I am here." Then the poor soul turned to the light--its weakness and pain were gone forever.
Have they not known, have they not heard, who it is rules?
"For a little moment have I hidden my face from thee; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy upon thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer." We mutter on to ourselves, till some one pulls us violently by the arm to remind us we are in church.

We see nothing but our own ideas.
Presently every one turns to pray.

There are six hundred souls lifting themselves to the Everlasting light.
Behind us sit two pretty ladies; one hands her scent-bottle softly to the other, and a mother pulls down her little girl's frock.

One lady drops her handkerchief; a gentleman picks it up; she blushes.

The women in the choir turn softly the leaves of their tune-books, to be ready when the praying is done.