rich, warm
red. The rows of seats in the body of the church are semicircular, and
those in the gallery rise as in an amphitheater, from the front to the
wall. At the far end of the church is a raised platform containing
merely a chair and a table. The table is a pretty ornament, and is the
"Plymouth Pulpit." It is made of wood brought from the Garden of
Gethsemane. In the gallery behind the pulpit is the great organ--one of
the largest and finest in the Union. The church will seat over
twenty-five hundred people, but in order to do this, chairs are placed
in the aisles. These chairs are sold as well as the pews.

Every Sunday morning the streets are filled with persons on their way to
attend the services at Plymouth Church. They come not only from
Brooklyn, but from New York, and even from Jersey City and Hoboken. The
yard and street in front of the church are quickly filled with the
throng, but the doors are guarded by policemen, and none but pew-holders
are permitted to enter the church until ten minutes before the hour for
service. Without this precaution the regular congregation would be
crowded out of their seats every Sunday by strangers.

At ten minutes before the hour for service the doors are thrown open,
and very soon there is not even standing room in the vast interior, and
generally the vestibules are full.

Near the pulpit is placed a basket of exquisite flowers, and sometimes
the entire platform is decorated in the same way. Most commonly some
little child perches itself up among the flowers, and this pretty sight
never fails to bring a smile of pleasure to the pastor's face as he
enters the church. He comes in through a little door under the gallery,
behind the pulpit. He is dressed in a plain suit of black, with a Byron
collar and a black stock. His movements are quiet and graceful, although
quick and energetic. His manner in opening the services is quiet and
earnest, and at once impresses his hearers with the solemnity of the
occasion. He reads the Bible in an easy, unconstrained manner, as if he
enjoyed the task, and in his prayers, which are extempore, he carries
the hearts of all his hearers with him to the Throne of Grace. He joins
heartily in the singing, which is congregational. It was feared that the
organ would prove a great temptation to do away with this style of
singing, but this has not been the case. The magnificent instrument is
used only to accompany the congregation, and there swells