s a deeply spiritual meeting, opened by the
pastor with an earnest prayer for guidance in the year to come, for
renewed consecration to the Master's service, for a better and higher
Christian life both as individuals and a church. Hymns follow and a
brief, fervid talk on the year coming and its opportunities, of the
record each will write on the clean white page in the book of life
to be turned so soon. As midnight approaches, every church member is
asked to signify his re-dedication to God and His service by standing.
Then the solemn question is put to others present if they do not want
to give themselves to God, not only for the coming year, but for all
years. As twelve o'clock strikes, all bow in silent prayer while the
organ, under the pastor's touch, softly breathes a sacred melody.

A few minutes later the meeting adjourns, "Happy New Years" are
exchanged, and the church orchestra on the iron balcony over the great
half rose window on Broad Street breaks into music.

Sometimes an audience of a thousand people gather on the street to
listen to this musical sermon, preached at the parting of the ways, a
eulogy and a prophecy. A writer in the "Philadelphia Press" relates
the following incident in connection with a watch meeting service:

"For the last half hour of the old and the first half hour of the new
year the band played sacred melodies to the delight of not less than
a thousand people assembled on the street. Diagonally across Broad
Street and a short distance below the church is the residence of the
late James E. Cooper, P.T. Barnum's former partner, the millionaire
circus proprietor. He had been ailing for months and on this night he
lay dying.

"Although not a member he had always taken a personal interest in
Grace Church, and one of his last acts was the gift of $1,000 to the
building fund. On this night, the first on which The Temple balcony
had been used for its specially designed purpose, among the last of
earthly sounds that were borne to the ears of the dying man was the
music of 'Coronation' and 'Old Hundred,'--hymns that he had learned in
childhood. The watch meeting closed and from a scene of thanksgiving
and congratulation Rev. Mr. Conwell hurried to the house of mourning,
where he remained at the bedside of the stricken husband and father
until the morning light of earth came to the living and the morning of
eternity to the dying."

Sacred music on the balcony at midnight also ushers in Chri