comes
to the surface. The hand of the clock creeps to eleven, sometimes
past, before the last member reluctantly leaves.

Baptism is a very frequent part of the Sunday services at The Temple,
usually taking place in the morning. It is a beautiful, solemn
ordinance. The baptistry is a long, narrow pool, arranged to resemble
a running stream. Years ago, when Dr. Conwell was in Palestine, he was
much impressed with the beauty of the river Jordan at the place where
Jesus was baptized. Always a lover of the beautiful in nature, the
picture long remained in his memory, especially the leaves and
blossoms that drifted on the stream. When The Temple was planned he
thought of it and determined to give the baptismal pool as much of the
beauty of nature as possible.

It is fifteen feet wide, sixty feet long, and during the hour of the
solemn ordinance, the brook is running constantly. The sides of the
pool, the pulpit and platform, summer or winter, are banked with
flowers, palms, moss and vines. On the surface of the water float
blossoms, while at the back, banked with mosses and flowers, splashes
and sparkles a little waterfall. Over all falls the soft radiance of
an illuminated cross. It is a beautiful scene, one that never fades
from the memory of the man or woman who is "buried with Christ by
baptism into death," to be raised again in the likeness of His
resurrection. The candidates enter at the right and pass out at
the left, the pastor pressing into the hands of each, some of the
beautiful blossoms that float on the water. During the whole service
the organ plays softly, the choir occasionally singing some favorite
hymn.

When the number of candidates is large, being on occasion as high as
one hundred and seventy-seven adults, the associate pastor assists. It
is no unusual thing to see members of a family coming together to
make this public profession of their faith. Husband and wife, in many
cases; husband, wife and children in many others; a grandmother and
two grandchildren on one occasion, and on yet another, a venerable
gray-haired nurse came with four of the family in which she had served
for many years, and the five entered the baptistry together.

"Among the converts," says one who witnessed a baptismal service,
"there were aged persons with their silvered hair. There were stalwart
men, fitted to bear burdens in the church for many years to come.
There were young men and maidens to grow into strong men and wome