The hymn was one composed ten years before, and all England was familiar with it.
Old Mrs.Bland lifted the printed paper mechanically to her eyes, and saw the words that she knew so well: "_The Lord that dwells in earth and sea._" ...
She glanced down the verses, that from the Humanitarian point of view had been composed with both skill and ardour.

They had a religious ring; the unintelligent Christian could sing them without a qualm; yet their sense was plain enough--the old human creed that man was all.

Even Christ's, words themselves were quoted.

The kingdom of God, it was said, lay within the human heart, and the greatest of all graces was Charity.
She glanced at Mabel, and saw that the girl was singing with all her might, with her eyes fixed on her husband's dark figure a hundred yards away, and her soul pouring through them.

So the mother, too, began to move her lips in chorus with that vast volume of sound.
As the hymn died away, and before the cheering could begin again, old Lord Pemberton was standing forward on the edge of the platform, and his thin, metallic voice piped a sentence or two across the tinkling splash of the fountains behind him.