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Among the Indians in the Far West : a service of song Ridley, William, 1836-1911; Sheppard, William Ludwell, 1833-1912 1905

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In issuing this Service of Song, the Committee beg to tender their
warmest thanks, first of all to the Right Rev. Bishop Ridley, D.D.,
of Caledonia, for his great kindness in writing the entire prose
portion of the Service, as well as some of the verses; and also to
H. Gibbon, Esq., F.R.C.O., who has most kindly written the larger
part of the music specially for this Service. The Committee also
gratefully acknowledge permission to use words or music from:
Messrs. Marshall Bros.
Messrs. Novello & Co.
The Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.
Sir John Stainer, Mus.Doc.
A. L. PEACE, Esq., Mus.Doc.
Rev. F. Ellerton, M.A.
Rev. G. Matheson, D.D.
Miss F. Brook.
Rev. W. J. L. Sheppard, M.A.
Church Missionary House,
Salisbury Square, E.C.
February isi, iSgg.
Hist of fDuefcal mumbers.
Prayer ...
How Sweet the Name
0 Mighty Transformation
1 can Trust
King of Saints
0 Love, that will not let me go
The Wilderness 	
1 think when I read	
From Calvary's Height
The Homeland 	
Praise   ...
Duet &> Chorus
..    16
..    18
..    19
Solo 6° Chorus
Quartette &* Chorus
..      26
..      28
...    3°
...    31
NOTE :—The rendering of the entire Service of Song will occupy One Hour and Three
Quarters. Much of its effectiveness will depend upon the careful observance by
the Choir of the Marks of Expression. 	
Zbc Stor? of a fIDiesionar? Btebop*
Words by Rev. Napier ]
cfita—i—i—h   '
VIalcolm, M.A.
Music by W. Mullineux.
j j. j   j
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»f/" Open our eyes, good Lord, open our eyes !
p For Thou hast gut Thyself in captive guise;
er And from the heathen gloom Thy voice we
p Open c
in prison, and ye left Me there!"
r eyes, good Lord, open our eyes !
mf Open our ears, good Lord, open our ears !
/ For Thou art pleading through our brethren's
cr Let India's bitter cry, let Afric's call
f Loud on the Churches of Thy ransomed fall I
p Open our ears, good Lord, open our ears !
mf Open our hearts, good Lord, open our hearts!
p Thou me test out to all their powers and parts:
cr Thou from Thy treasure-house our wealth
dost pour;
f O make us faithful with the heaven-sent store I
p Open our hearts, good Lord, open our hearts !
tnf Open our lips, good Lord, open our lips!
/ Sun after sun beneath the ocean dips :
dint With every breeze the souls of men pass by,
cr And time sweeps onward to eternity :
f Open our lips, good Lord, open our lips 1
mf Open our minds, good Lord, open our minds t
When sin or selfishness man's conscience blinds,
Scatter the mists that cloud Thy clear command ; [strand,
cr Then with rich blessing on each Christless
ff Open Thy hand, good Lord, (rail.) open Thy
hand 1 (The following Prayers should then be offered by the Reader of the Service.)
Let us pray.
Almighty God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Maker of all things, Judge of all
men, we acknowledge and bewail our sins; we have done that which we ought
not to have done, and left undone that which we ought to have done. Thou hast
allowed us to be put in trust with the gospel, and we have not been faithful to our
trust; we have not glorified Thee as we ought, nor set forward Thy kingdom as we
might have done; our faith has been weak, our love cold, our labours feeble. We
humble ourselves for our lack of service: we do earnestly repent and are heartily
sorry for these our misdoings and shortcomings ; the remembrance of them is grievous
unto us. Have mercy upon us, have mercy upon us, most merciful Father ; for Thy.
Son our Lord Jesus Christ's sake, forgive us all that is past, and grant that we may
ever hereafter serve and please Thee in newness of life, to the honour and glory of
Thy Name, through Jesus Christ our Lord.    Amen.
O Gracious God and Father, we bless and praise Thee for Thy love to us, Thy
sinful creatures, in redeeming us unto Thyself by the precious blood of Thy dear Son,
and for the gift of Thy sanctifying Spirit. May we show our love to Thee by loving
the souls for whom Christ died, and seeking to make known His glorious salvation
throughout the world. Teach us how to labour and to pray for the conversion of the
Heathen, the Mohammedan, and the Jew.
Lord, bless our Church Missionary Society, and all kindred Societies. May Thy
presence be with our Missionary brethren and sisters, and may Thy Holy Spint
prosper all their work. Send forth more labourers into Thy harvest, and stir up the
wills of Thy faithful people at home to pray and to work for the success of Thy holy
Show, O Lord, to all who work for Thee at home what Thou wouldest have them
to do, and give them grace to do it. And may we all be looking with faith and hope
for the return of our King to establish His everlasting kingdom.
O Father, hear us, for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord.    Amen,
O Lord, from Whom all good things do come, grant to us, Thy humble servants,
that by Thy holy inspiration we may think those things that be good, and by Thy
merciful guiding may perform the same, through our Lord Tesus Christ.    Amen.
Our Father, etc.    Amen.
The Story which we are to hear to-night is from the pen of one of our
Missionary Bishops, who, in his far-away Diocese of Caledonia, on the
shores and amid the islands of the North Pacific Ocean, has for twenty years
been carrying on a glorious work for his Lord and Master. Some idea of
the arduous nature of that work may be gathered from the simple fact that
the people under Bishop Ridley's charge—Indians, white men, and Chinese
—though less in number than the population of either Halifax or Plymouth,
are scattered over a Diocese four times the size of England. May God
indeed " open our ears and open our hearts " as we listen to the story which
bishop Ridley will now tell us in fois own words.
DURING countless ages Indians hunted, fished, fought, decapitated or
scalped, and sank down, down, down, into greater vileness, till the
careless miner, the petty trader, and liquor fiend trod them lower and sank
with them.
Then comes along a man no stronger or braver or cleverer, but a man of
mystery.   Some wish to kill him; others counsel a policy of observation. They jabber around him; but happily he does not understand their language.
They let him live, and permit him to share some dark corner of the roofed-in
space we call a house. God puts it into the heart of some influential man
or woman to be his friend. Sickness strikes some one down ;' the medicine
man's art fails; the missionary is allowed to prescribe remedies which God
But now success in healing imperils the medicine man's standing, and
makes him an enemy. God's man meets his frown with a smile, unconscious
of the peril. Muttered threats, only partially understood, lead to prayer, the
mother of patience and courage.
" Come here !" I said to such an one, as I saw him standing in a watchful
attitude not far off.    " Send away the others," he replied, " and I will come.w
I joined him, who looked down on me with a curious light in his eyes.
" You saved that poisoned girl—we (the medicine-men) could not."
" God saved her !" was my reply.
" I know not God ; but you know more than we do.    Take this."
From his only garment, a dirty blanket, he gave me two round pieces
of cedar, with finely-pi eked cedar-bark wrapped round the sticks. This gift
was a " child of the sun,"—in other words, a means of producing fire.
" This," said the medicine man, " is a token of my respect; but I shall not
speak to you again."
This happened seventeen years ago, I confirmed him and his wife fifteen
years later.
But the interval! What scenes obtrude themselves on the stranger! The
very dogs object to him because his scent lacks the odour of the unwashed.
They snarl at his heels and sometimes bite. Then the effluvia from dirty
patients who through the long winter never change their rags or wash themselves ; the difficulty of obtaining suitable food ; the growing ache of
loneliness ; the dawning knowledge of the Indian's degradation of heart as
the language is learnt ; at times, the fading away of faith ; the dread of
not loving such unloveable heathen ; and the horror of feeling crushed by
the impossibility of doing any good !    Brave men experience this.
To you who listen to the story there is awakened a romantic interest; but
to hear a mighty chief, thinking himself alone, facing the sea, and using
incantations, startles the unseen and unwilling listener who has tried to lead
him to Jesus ; for thus he prayed :—
" Fierce spirit of the angry wave,
I'll give thee victims three ;
Tear out the tongue of wolf, of slave,
Of dragon of the sea.
If thou wilt in the dead of night
With deadly charms appear;
Streak me with blood that I may fight,
And blast my foes with fear.
" Brave spirit of the mountain trail,
The lord of treasured snow,
Who trim'st the kingly eagle's sail,
'Mid rocks bidst rivers flow *
When I have all my rivals slain,
And stuck their heads on high,
I'll feast thee well, and then my train
Shall watch me bravely die !"
Vears elapsed, and I was sitting beside the same chief as he lay dying.
In the midst of his pain he burst into song, a Zimshian translation by my
wife of one of our well-known hymns.
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Words by Rev. John
3olo (Tenor).           Music by R GiBBQNf F RC Q
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i. How sweet the Name of     Je - sus sounds
2. Dear Name, the rock    on which I    build,
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drives       a - way his     fear. It  makes  the wound-ed       spi - rit whole, And
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• bled    breast; Tis   man - na      to    the   hun - gry   soul,   And
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Then the dying chief began to tell me this dream. " Last night I was
struggling up the steps to the door of heaven, and I knocked. The watchman asked me what I wanted. ' I have come to see my son Silas—I know
he is here.' * Yes,' said the angel, * he is yonder, in front of Jesus.' Then I
struggled mightily to go to him, but the floor was smooth as glass, and I
could not go forward a single step. ' What are you trying to do ?' asked
the angel. * I want to go to Jesus; I see Him there.' * Oh, you cannot
go in that way.' 'How, then, shall I go?' 'On your knees,' said the
angel. So I fell on my knees ; and, before I could look up, I felt Jesus
standing beside me. He smiled, and asked why I had come. I had forgotten. Having Jesus near so satisfied me that I thought of nothing else :
I had all I wanted."
This saint of God, formerly a warlike chief, to whom murder was a profession called war, not long after his vision of Paradise was translated
The chief was converted far away from his home, and at once and for ever-
cast in his lot with the Christians. Then his tribe elected a new chief named
Sheuksh, a man of great vigour of body and mind. By this time the Gospel
had brought law and order both north and south of the Kitkatlas, so that
war ceased ; but their hearts were not tamed—and every attempt to settle a
native missionary among them failed until the year 1882. In succession, two
teachers were driven away, but not before twenty-seven of the braves were
converted and were brought to me sixty miles across the sea for baptism.
Without a human teacher they were further taught by the Holy Spirit, and
at last ventured to build a little church, with turret and bell.
One stormy November Saturday night they were praying for a Sabbath
blessing, when the chief brought in his wildest followers armed with various
weapons and axes. He ordered prayer to cease; but the few Christians said
they could not help praying. They were then driven out, and the work of
destruction began, with savage threats against all who prayed.
The heathen destroyers found the work too tedious, and some one cried
out, " Fire it!" So lurid flames soon reduced God's house to ashes, amid
wild dancing and blasphemy.
The next day a favourable gale hurried northward a swift canoe. In ten
hours a crew of drenched Kitkatlas sat before me in my study burdened
with so great a grief that it was difficult to find utterance for some time.
Then rising to his feet, one of them, named Luke, began his tale of woe
with the words, " The devil has won; God's house is in ashes; they spit at
the name of Jesus ; they have torn up the Bibles ; the devil has won the
" No, never," said I, "the battle has just begun ; Jesus Christ will win.
You are not burnt. The devil has laughed before. God will laugh at him,
and you will laugh.    Be strong."
For more than a year no teacher was suffered to land among the Kitkatlas.
No public service could be held. But to that night's horror many traced
their conversion. The Christians stood still in silent prayer. One young
man, less self-controlled, whispered to the leader, " Rifles 1 Let us fight !n
"Jesus never fought," was the reply ; "He died without resistance."
This stillness astonished the heathen, whose chief aim was to provoke the
Christians to battle.
Many years later an Indian of mark was holding the loop-end of a tape
measure, and I the other end. We had measured off the choicest section of
land belonging to the tribe, on which to build a new church—the third in
succession—the second being found too small. As I wound up the tape, he
dropped the loop, but held up his hand and said with deep emotion, " Bishop,
do you know that hand set fire to the first house of God here ? This hand
and this heart trembled as I thought of it, until years afterwards I said to Gaium Twaga (the senior Christian),' Do you think God can forgive me ?'
* Yes, if you truly repent.' * How do you know I can be forgiven ?' * The
blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth from all sin.' Then ", said the
penitent one, " I never had peace ; I was afraid of God ; I saw His Spirit
in the eyes of the men of prayer as the flames leaped up to heaven. Many
like me, for years, whether on the sea or on the mountains, feared God
would sink their canoe or cast them down some precipice. But as soon as
I knew I could be forgiven, I had peace, and now I love God."
Words by Mrs. Rundlb Charles,
Duet and Chorus.
Music by H. Gibbon, F.R.C.O.
The   sin-less lips have  said,   " For-giv'n "; Par- don     is then        a   right   Di * vine,
But   can the sal - lied     snow grow white T    What spell can seal the   mem - 'ry fast 1 What has been <
must have been; The Al-migh-ty can .not,      can - not change the
-|. ,    1
Oh, raise thy down-cast  eyes   to     His,
mf a tempo.
And read the bless-ed
past. Oh, raise thy down-cast    eyes   to    His, And    read     the    bless   -   ei
frees,  By      lov   •    -   ing        thee  shall make  thee fair,  shall  make    thee    fair.
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thee,   By       lov   •    -    ing       thee  shall make thee  fair, shall   make   thee      fair. TK
Chorus. PP
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In • stead,      this sight  shall meet thine     eye,— Thy   Sa-viour
A_X      --   A        !        !       !
Cross    for    thee,   Thy   Sa-viour on  the Cross   for    thee,    for  thee,        for   thee.
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Six winters after the news of the burning of the church was brought to
me, four Indians, some of the same who then came, once more arrived—not
now woe-begone, but bursting with desire to unfold their beautiful message.
My wife came in to listen. We had wrestled eight years in prayer for this
consummation, and, as we listened, our hearts were melted with gladness,
and poured out in praise to our victorious King. 10
The first words were, " Ltha goudi eshk gish Sheuksh " (" He has perfected
his promise, has Sheuksh "). Such were Luke's words. Then he proceeded
to narrate in complete detail what had happened the day before. The chief,
back from his autumnal hunt, invited all the men to his great house, a space
of 3,600 square feet without post or pillar. The floor is of split cedar. In
the midst was the sand-strewn hearth. A pile of logs is near, and the flames
leap aloft as oil is ladled on the fire from time to time. There is Sheuksh,
arrayed in his scarlet robe, seated alone on a low kind of settle ; his people
on the other three sides of the great square awaiting the opening of the
Parliament. Christians are mingled with the heathen. Nearest to the chief
sit six leading men, forming his Council, all of them proved enemies of the
Up rose Sheuksh grandly, and stretching out his sturdy arms, thus began
his great oration : " I wear the outward sign of ancient customs, which I
thought I ought to maintain. I am not wiser than the ancients who kept
them and did great deeds. I loved them ; so did you. I have struggled to
maintain them. But the end has come. Let the waves tell the story of our
fathers. Our children's lips will form no fit words. Where do dead things
go ? This goes with them." Here he flung off his robe and other insignia
of a heathen chief. " I am naked, but I can clothe myself with the white man's
clothes. What will cover my heart ? I cannot clothe it. God who knows
all the past and present has made me know I am ignorant and wicked.
Now I am dressed like a Christian, and those tokens of the dark past I will
never touch again. What shall I do next ? I am too old to go to school.
I cannot read. I am like a child, but wanting to learn. Will Jesus Christ
have me ? I will never turn back. I give myself to God. Now pray for me,
pray, pray ! I want to know what will please Him. I must know. Begin at
once to pray."
The whole company bowed their heads in silence, until the voice of prayer
broke it.    Prayer and praise never ceased for seven and a half long hours.
" But were you not tired ? " I asked.
" No. Nobody went out but to go round and tell the women ; and when
they heard the chief was converted they prayed, and the children too."
Then the men who with Sheuksh had struggled against Christ rose one by
one, and solemnly renounced the past. Not a shred of outward heathenism
saw the morning light; not a soul remained mat had not pledged himself to
live and die a Christian. This happened seven years ago, and our fears that
so great a change might not last have proved groundless.
On January 5th, 1898, I baptized ten adults, hoary-headed heathens, the
last to put on Christ. As for Sheuksh, his very looks and features indicate
what he is,—a whole-hearted believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. Those who
knew him in the days of his darkness,—Sheuksh the severe, the proud, the
lion—cannot but extol the power which has transformed him into Sheuksh
the gentle, the true, the lamb !    Te Deum laudamus.
® IPflPs CraMsforma&m!
Words by Rt. Rev. Bp. Ridley, D.D.
Music by H. Gibbon, F.R.C.O. 11
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f O mighty transformation,
Fair miracle of grace!
cr The glory be to Jesus,
The beauty from His face.
mf The zealous persecutor
p     Is humbled to the earth,
cr Is blinded by the glory,
f    Has reached the second birth.
2. mf The sign, " Behold, he prayeth,"
Is whispered far and wide ;
cr This, better than the vision,
Is sign of conquered pride.
His lips the tidings bring :
ff All glory then to Jesus
Let men and angels sing.
Now embark with me for Queen Charlotte's Islands, the most westerly
part of the province of British Columbia. The inhabitants were the finest
and fiercest of all the Indians. They were the Vikings of the North Pacific
Ocean. When I first met with them not one was a Christian. It is joy,
after years of toil, peril, and at first apparent failure, to be able to add,
not one is a heathen now !   All are within the fold.
I must testify to the splendid courage and devotion of their first missionaries, Archdeacon Collison and his brave wife. During the Franco-German
war, Mrs. Collison had passed through many a bloody day and perilous
night as a Red-Cross nurse. But she had as much need of calm courage as
she ever had on the battle-field, when, with her husband and first-born
infant, she was landed and left on Massett beach, alone with murder-loving
Indians. Little did they imagine (for they were ignorant of the language)
that three times it was determined to kill them; but the mother's love among
the women, for the baby's sake, pleaded successfully for their lives. So the
Indians have told me; but the missionaries, to this hour, I believe, are
ignorant of what had happened. This was twenty-two years ago ; and
though not a single Haida had been baptized during their four years' work
among them when they left the islands, I hear these same men praying daily
in our meetings, and they never omit the name of Collison ! Remembered
by name in prayer by the noblest tribes of this great Dominion for more than
a score of years ! Who can complain of Indian ingratitude ? And who will
not feel encouraged to trust God more fully, both with the present and the
future? u
I cku Crttsi
Solo (Soprano or Tenor).
Words from Hymns of Consecration and Faith.
(By permission of Messrs. Marshall Bros.) Music by Rev. W. J. L. Sheppard, M.A.
Andante religioso. -*\
won   -   •   der, as    with  trem-bling      hand I cast the
seed    a - long   the        fur   •   -   row'd     ground, If      ri  -  pen'd fruit   for
But       I      can
Mft  i Hjj i ! "il j i I LJ I ! 11 n~p^r^zj-
3 3 •* sud - den -  ly      the      storm Should rage so     fierce - ly   round me
tttttttt  «- qMfcfc*
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watch - es      all      my       path: And     I can      trust,    And     I can am
■m-   \-m- \-m- (-m- ^-m- s-m-
What a days work I once had among those Indians ! They had built a
pretty church on a plot by the sea, where the year before I gathered juicy
strawberries. I sailed across the hundred miles of sea to consecrate it.
They had long been expecting my arrival, and most of them, giving me up,
started out on the western ocean fur-seal hunting. Five men were sent off in
the teeth of a brisk westerly breeze, to tell the rest of my arrival. Three days
later—so long did it take them—a fine fleet of beautiful canoes, all "dugouts" of cedar, about fifty feet in length, sailed into the harbour, pulled up in
line, discharged a volley, then paddled stern first, at a furious pace, to the
sandy shore. To shake hands with more than 200 strong men and women
whose grip is like a vice, lamed me from the fingers to the shoulder : but
I dared not wince ! 16
An hour or so later I was standing in my rotes at the western door of
the church to begin the service of consecration. A choir of thirty men and
boys, followed by the church council, the churchwardens carrying gilded
wands of office, preceded me up the middle aisle singing the opening hymn.
The consecration over, I married thirty-six happy people ; churched several
mothers, who duly made their offerings,—the first in the new church ; then I
baptized about seventy and confirmed eighty-four.
When, as I thought, the last of the candidates had been confirmed, there
was a pause. I heard the concluding words of the baptismal service at the
west end of the church. Then walked up and knelt before me,—unlike all
others,—a ragged, weary-looking man. I confirmed him, andthen noticed
that he had left his footprints on the new white floor in blood ! Where he
stood to be baptized, he left two pools of blood from his torn feet.
This is how it happened :—his comrades, going to sea, left him to go into
the mountains to hunt bear, whilst they went for seals. When the news of
my arrival had spread, and all had started homeward, he returned to the
rendezvous to find that they had sailed. He had no canoe, and was laden
with bear-skins. Hiding them, he started to walk the thirty miles along the
edge of the western rocks and precipices, where no trail ever existed. The
terrible journey gashed his feet and cut them to the bone. O splendid
devotion to his Lord and Saviour ! He, like the rest, had been prepared for
baptism and confirmation. Finding the baptism over and the confirmation
proceeding, he begged the missionary to baptize him at once and present
him to me ; and so this accounted for the bloodstained footprints that consecrated the church floor, and is but an example of many other saints in
heathen lands,—unknown to any but Him for Whom they would cheerfully
shed their blood, or even lay down life itself.
Ping jof Saints.
Words by Rev. John Ellerton, M.A.
Music by Rev. T. Richard Matthews, B.A.
mf King of Saints, to whom the number
Of Thy starry host is known,
Manyjj^Eiame, (p) by man forgotten,
cr    LiveTfor ever round Thy throne :
mf Lights, which earth-born mists have darkened,
cr    There are shining full and dear;
f Princes in the court of heaven,
Urn    Nameless, unremembered here.
?■ How they toiled for Thee and suffered
None on earth can now record;
cr All their saintly life is hidden
In the knowledge of their Lord.
p All is veiled from us, (cr) but written
In the Lamb's great book of life,
AU the faith, and prayer, and patience,
All the toiling and the strife :
f There are told Thy hidden treasures;
p     Number us, O Lord, with them,
cr When Thou makest up the jewels
/    Of Thy living diadem. 17
To me it is as commonplace to step into my boat as in England into a
carriage, and it is on the whole cheaper, because I harness the wind which
eats no oats. I started one day to sail to the Skeena river and back, a run
of sixty miles. The sea was like a mirror and the sun scorching. After a
time the wind failed and we had to take to our oars. Fortunately I had my
wife's old garden straw hat with broad brims. In this I cut two holes,
passing through them a piece of cord. I tied the thing firmly on. Without
remembering what I wore, I landed with it on, and only found my mistake
when I tried to lift it on meeting a missionary lady. " Oh, I wish I had a
kodak," she said, as she gazed at my upper storey.
We stopped at some rocky islets to gather gulls' eggs. The birds objected,
but the scramble was pleasant after broiling and toiling on the water. I saw
a blue line on the water to seaward and called out, " Wind, wind, all on
board !" How it cooled our brows ! The light sparkling on the wavelets
in a line with the sun the Indians call shium giamuk, or " the feet of the
So we sailed lazily along, the only sound the creaking of the jaws of the
boom. I was steering—one of the two Indians, who formed my crew,
counting eggs, and the other, one of my former pupils for eight years,
reading Pearson on the Creed. Suddenly looking up he asked me the
difference between "attrition" and "contrition." "Oh !" said I, "Attrition
is feeling a little sorrow about some bad thing, and contrition is a real
sorrow for sin." "Ah 1" said he, " I suppose one is the crying of the eyes,
the other of the heart."   Thus our Indians catechize us !
Within four hours of starting we reached the mouth of the river and put
up for the night With my men I had intended to spread my blankets on
the church floor, so as to get off early next day without disturbing anybody,
but the offer of a bed tempted me.
It was a Chinaman's.    He came in to render any service he could.
I sat on the edge of the bed and talked a long time to the comely
Celestial. His was an oval face, nicely rounded, framing a pair of almond-
shaped eyes, full of light and sympathy. He had been converted through
the agency of Miss Appleyard, one of? our mission hospital nurses. He
described his visit with another Christian to the China House, as we call
the ugly building the Chinese crowd into during the salmon-fishing season.
" I pray long time," said he ; "I read book of God; I read Luke to them,
15th chapter, to-night. They hear it all,—they smoke, they lie down, they
speak not, they hear always. I sing hymn, China words, then all sing,—
plenty sing,—sing hard. You know, Bishop, Chinaman not much know
God,—some know little—plenty not know nothing. China country dark,
very dark." So he ended in a slow, serious manner of speaking, as if he
remembered how the darkness felt. Then he opened his arms till they
touched the wall behind him, and began to try to express God's all-
embracing love. He looked as saintly as artist ever painted. There was
a far-offhess in his eyes,—his lips parted as if unable to express the feeling
flooding his soul.
I felt as if I could rise and passionately embrace him; but my English
reserve looked on in silence as he tried and tried to tell me how much God
loved dark China. " Oh, you know, you know, Bishop." Then, bringing his
extended arms together, he clasped himself to show how God lifted him out
of darkness into light Relapsing again from his rapid utterances to slow,
solemn tones, he said, " I know GoA. I love God, I love God very much.0
And I am sure it was true.
As I was embarking next morning I found he had put a little delicacy of
his own cooking into the boat, because, as he said, " Mrs. Ridley not eat too
much"; meaning that she had a poor appetite. She was an invalid at the
time.   His last words were to commend my new Chinese servant to my IB
sympathy, saying, u He know God only very much little, but by-an'-by know
Him more.   And he very good Chinaman."
<® Ifoto, ijjat teill not M me g0*
Words by Rbv. G. Matheson, D.D.     Quartette. Music by A. L. Peace, Mus.Doc
Slowly and smoothly. _
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mf O Light. 3hat followest all my way,
■j&w    " yield my flickering torch to Thee;
mflS.y heart restores its borrowed ray,
cr That in   ife^r sunshine's blaze its day
f    May brighter, fairer be.
\ O Joy, that seekest me throng pain,
I cannot close my heart to Thee;
cr I trace the rainbow through the
And feel the promise is not vain,
S    That morn shall tearless be.
p O Cross, (cr) that liftest up my head,
dim     I dare not ask to fly from Thee ;
pp I lay in dust life's glory dead,
cr And from the ground there blossoms r
rail f    Life that shall endless be.
No one can be dull who understands, and is interested in, the Indians ;
their minds seem always alert and their eloquence remarkable. Their
sympathies, too, are keenly aroused by suffering. When I told them at our
daily meeting for prayer that our missionaries had been murdered at
Ku-cheng in China, they thus prayed, " Say again, dear Jesus, ' Father
forgive them, for they know not what they do.' O gracious Spirit, Thou art
not quenched by blood. Let it make Thy garden soil strong to grow Chinese
believers in."
Daily I am visited, sometimes by Indians from long distances, for counsel,
and I must patiently listen, however long the story may be. After a respectful preface, thus begins some Kitikshan, " Chief, the work of God is no light
thing. All parts are weighty. Small things are parts of large things. Little
things differ not from large things with God. God makes no difference."
Then follows too long a string of questions to repeat here.
Next enters a widow for advice. " Chief Thunder (a man's name) wants
to marry me. What do you think about it?" " Well," said I, "do you love
him?" " I hardly know." " Does he love you ? " " I hardly know." "Then
don't."   " I won't!"
\^i 19
Next comes in a woman who had been excommunicated, but is now penitent. She poured out her soul in burning words. " I knelt last night before
God confessing my sin after five months' misery in the dust. God knows all.
You know part of my shame ! " " Yes," said I. " I know enough ! I know
also that the blood of Jesus cleanseth us from all sin." There she broke
down. I said the " Comfortable Words" in the Communion Service, and by
God's own word ministered absolution to this broken heart. Recovering her
composure she said, " There are crumbs for dogs : one has dropped from
your lips, and I find it sweet to my heart—sweet, sweet." She broke quite
down again,Jput found relief in tears. I knelt beside her and prayed ; then
rose, took her hand, and said softly, "The Lord hath put away thy sin; go in
peace and sin no more." Two years have tested the sincerity of her contrition, and now she is an active member of our Church Army. Glory be to
1        All verses bu
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i. p They are waiting everywhere,
er Where the fields of earth are fair,
Where the rivers nobly run,
Where the blossoms seek the sun,
f Where the hills rise, high and grand,
Looking proudly o'er the land,—
pp        Waiting 1 Waiting!
a. p They are waiting in the wild,
Sick and weary and defiled,
' cr And the Saviour's healing word
dim They have never, never heard ;
p Ever hungry and unfed.
Left without the1 living Bread,—
pp        Waiting 1 Waiting I
p Oh 1 the long, long years are flown
cr Since the Master bade His own
Bear the message far and wide
Of a Saviour crucified;
/ Flash the light o'er vale and hill,—
p Yet they sit in darkness still,—
pp        Waiting 1 Waiting 1
cr For the happy beam of day
That shall chase their gloom away;
f For the news, so glad and blest,
That shall set their heart at rest;
p For the peace we know and prize,
cr And the hope beyond the skies,—*
pp        Waiting 1 Waiting t jf—
To those who are born into the civilization of Christian lands it is not
easy to realize how much it owes to Christ.
Where I am now writing, a small place of about 290 souls, there are 112
communicants, often forty at the early Communion Service, and a fortnight
later a larger number at the mid-day Celebration ; and there is not a single
drunkard, thief, or unclean person known to live here. The jail is rotting
down, and is used as the school coal-cellar, and, as a jail, has not been
wanted or used for ten years.    Crime is unknown.
But this is one of the older Missions. Go with me to one of the more
recent, say Aiyansh, where Mr. McCullagh has, through God's help, wrought
so marvellous a change. I remember it as a poor little suburb of a large
Indian village, given over to all abominations. Then I saw it as a row of
little cottages with thirty souls all told, who longed for instruction. A short
time ago, when I last visited it, I was amazed. I saw fine, broad roads, with
beautiful cottages dotted about, set in lovely autumnal foliage, each with a
fine garden well fenced in. There now stands a very fine church to seat 400
people, beautifully furnished within, and a noble spire on the tower. Beside
it is the prettiest day-school in the diocese ; and at the end of the main street,
abutting on the river, a commodious mission-house, with its dispensary, its
printing-press, and other accessories of a prosperous mission. Indeed, it is
a model village, planned by an artist eye, and pleasing in every feature.
"Ah !" says an objector, "this expenditure of missionary funds on material
advancement is wrong. I shall stop my half-guinea per annum 1" Not one
penny of the cost of all this has come from any missionary society. The
Government made a small grant towards the school-house. All the rest was
done by the people on the spot. Nor is this a singular instance ; it is the
rule.    " Now, Sir, double your subscription instead of dropping it!"
It will not be long before heathenism will have perished in this Diocese;
and in no small measure is this success due to the zealous efforts of the
native Christians among the non-Christians. We have more unpaid than
paid preachers in this diocese, a proof of the wisdom as well as the devotion
of the missionaries.
%\t TOfomuss.
Isa. xxxv. z, 2,6; lv. 13.
Solo and Chorus.
Bass Solo, or all Tenors & Basses.
Music by H. Gibbon, F.R.C.O.
% 31
They      shall       see       the      glo - ry  of    the    Lord,
1 1—"-r
They   shall    see     the
-p-f—r—"i—r—I     u g i—r      i
glo-ry of the  Lord and  the    ex-cel-len-cy     of       our    God;
i a j.
They     shall 22
glo - ry    of      the   Lord,     of      the       Lord They shall
They shall
the   gl<
ry,    the  glo - ry   of     the   Lord.,
glo   -   -   ry, They shall see..
the   glo - ry   of       the Lord....   and the 23
Solo. Andante, smoothly.
For   in   the   wil • der-ness shall wa-ters break
Soloj       |       |       ,       ,n .       ,      I     J
out,      and streams in    the    des   -  ert,   and streams in the   des f
brier   shall come up the myr- tie • tree,   and   in - stead    of    the  brier shall come
up  the myr-tle    •    tree, and it shall  be     to   the Lord, shall  be  to the Lord for a
v\m- -j>. Q-i J ♦■♦■#•  ♦    ■&-    -S- ' _t    •&• •  -m-    -m- -m- -m- -m-   J* J* r r T   r
name,   for an    ev - er-last-ing   sign that shall not  be   cut      off.      It   shall be     to    the
J     J       ,        .      ,        , ,      J.,
not be cut      off;
It    shall       be     to  the Lord   for an   ev • er - last-ing sign.
J is I*   F> -m- ■*■ ■*■ -0-
Sometimes we have amusing incidents in our travels, of which I may
mention one during my last trip to Aiyansh. On our return journey we
became burglars! To get a roof over our head, for one night at least, we
ripped off some of the planks of an unoccupied house in a lonely place.
Night overtook us before we reached it. To climb ten feet up a nearly perpendicular bank of greasy clay, in the dark and lashing rain, was difficult.
We had to cut footholds with the axe by lantern light, and got well plastered
as we clambered up. Our camping gear we could not bring up. Then we
forced a passage into the empty house. There was a stove, but no stove-pipe,
so we could not make a fire. We had a cold supper and then lay down on
the floor to sleep.   The remains of bread and sardines from supper I set r
beside me for breakfast as soon as we woke. But I couldn't sleep. The
swarms of rats kept me awake guarding my breakfast; but at last they
became so persistent and daring, that, to make sure of it, about three o'clock
I sat up and ate what was left of the bread. No sooner had I finished the
sardines than the rats took a fancy to the tin and ran away with it! I need
hardly say we started very early that morning so as to get within reach of
somebody's hospitality for lunch. The next night I slept on board in a quiet
reach of the swollen river.   But I may not dwell on amusements.
Just before the great rush to Klondike began I journeyed up the Stikine
River to settle a new helper among the Indians. Our sea-going steamer
arrived at Telegraph Creek on Sunday morning, and as the steamer would
leave as soon as discharged, and everybody was at work to unload her, I
worked like a trooper carrying my tent and outfit about 150 feet above the
river level. It was worth while, as well as a necessity, because it showed
that lawn-sleeves did not enfold flabby arms. I am proud of my camp
cooking 1 In my kitchen box I had a piece of beef roasted three weeks
before. It was sweet, but had a little green mouldiness in the chinks.
Remove the mildew and slice thin. Slice two raw potatoes; grease the
frying-pan ; in with the potatoes ; when brown add the sliced beef; then
make room and drop in two raw eggs ! By the time they are cooked you
are hungry, and dinner is quite ready. What do you think of that for
asceticism ? It beats the Lord Mayor ! Whoso calls this conceit must be
jealous, or destitute of honest pride in the first of arts.
As soon as the ship was unloaded, I went down to the tired workers and
asked if they were too weary to come to a service. At once the big store,
which was full of the landed cargo, was arranged a bit. All crowd in,
whites and Indians. I stood inside the counter and drew from under it a
soap-box to kneel on. The light was so dimly religious that my congregation could not see to read the hymn books I had lent them, so the
singing was a solo by the writer.
Daily I preached to puzzled but eager listeners, among them some whose
drunken volubility was disgusting. At first they kindly offered me whisky—
when I told them I never drank what destroys the man and loosens the
beast in him. You see in what manner civilization improves the Indian
without the Gospel!   What murderers we are !
I was a little shocked to find, after doing my best to teach them for many
days, that my scholars thought of God as a very good man out of sight.
There was a pretty little blue-eyed quarter-breed boy there, son of a white
man by a pretty half-breed woman, that I used to take on my knee and tell
of the child Jesus, of His dear love, and His precious death for him. His
eyes, full of wonder, were fixed on mine, and he would say, " Mother never
told me this. Why did not mother tell me?" I knew why,—she did not
know. When I told him God loved him, he would say, " What is it ? " and
then, " Where is He ? Who told Him about me ? Is He older than you ?
Is He like you? Did you see Him?" There was a sweet sadness in this
innocent ignorance.
I Cljittk b%tt <$ §Ua&.
Words by J. Luke.
Slowly and smoothly.
Quartette and Chorus. Music by Rbv> w t l ShepparI)#
* The words must be sung to the tune in their natural rhythm, the notes being repeated or not,
5 required. (The first two verses may be sung by a small number of young children?)
z. mf I think, when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as lambs to His fold,
cr     I should like to have been with Him then.
2. mf\ wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arms had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,
p     " Let the little ones come unto Me."
3. *£^"Yet still to His footstool in prayer I may go,
And ask for a share of His love;
And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,
cr     I shall see Him and hear Him above
4. /In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all who are washed and forgiven ;
And many dear children are gathering there,
pp     "For of such is the kingdom of heaven."
5. p But thousands and thousands, who wander and fall,
Never heard of that heavenly home;
cr I should like them to know there is room for them all,
And that Jesus has bid them to come.
6. I long for that blessed and glorious time,
f    The fairest, and brightest, and best;
When the dear little children of every clime
rail     Shall crowd to His arms and be blest.
I have been asked to include in this story,—a true story, remember, from
the far West,—some account of my late wife's work and entering into rest.
To write of her work would be to include Australia, where she lived three
years, to try in vain to save her brother's life ; India, where, in the Punjab,
she was the first to organize Zenana work ; Germany, where the King gave
her the bronze cross of honour for service to the sick and wounded from the
battlefields ; Yorkshire, from which she organized, as honorary secretary,
the first Home Associations of the Zenana Missionary Society in the
province of York, besides carrying on various works in our town of Hudders-
field ; and finally Canada, where, after seventeen years of service, she gave
it up, at the call of her Lord and Master, to enter into His rest.
My dear wife had long been ailing. One evening in November, 1896,
before bed-time she showed great signs of physical distress, and we tried to
carry her upstairs to her bedroom ; but she fainted in our arms. I ordered
a bed to be made up for her where we were, and there we laid her. When
she revived we perceived signs of real agony, which she strove to conceal.
By midnight we thought she was dying.
She passed from that night of exhaustion, and her eye became bright and
her conversation full of animation and spiritual profit. Next day (Tuesday)
crowds of Indians hung round her bed, and she was delighted. Wednesday
she was a little weaker, but had a small set of five Indian women in for
informal instruction. Thursday afternoon she was placed in a chair to share
the Bible-reading I am used to give to all., and she spoke beautifully on
Romans viii. 17. All this time the chapel was full of Indians, night and day,
praying for her recovery. We could hear their singing, and she was much
touched by their love.
That night another attack came on, and we again thought she was dying 28
After the choking was over, she desired to take leave of all. She first
blessed all our lady-workers. She saw our Chinese cook standing near with
bent head. Some one said to him, " Mrs. Ridley speaks." She then again
said, " My Cha Li, my dear Cha Li." He ran to her side, knelt down, kissed
her hand, and rained his tears on it only to kiss them away. At the same
moment one of our old house-boys, (now with a family of his own), hearing
her say, " My own dear boy, my son Herbert," was likewise overcome, and
six foot as he is, he burst into tears as he pressed his face on her other hand.
Immediately behind her was a young Kitikshan maiden, a tall and powerful
girl of about eighteen years of age. To her she turned slightly, saying,
" Mary is such a blessing to me " ; which convulsed the dear creature, who
owed her salvation from savagery at Hazelton to the saint whom she had
often of late borne along in her arms. Four races at the same moment held
her in their hands and mingled their tears as she blessed them all. Besides
all the Mission party kneeling around, the room, a very large and airy one,
was covered with silently-praying crowds of Indians. My heart was like
melting wax as I saw such fruits of her long and loving labour, and their
wonderful love for her. At one moment we thought she was near the last
gasp, but again she slightly rallied. From that time onward to her death
all work in the town was suspended. For the three days and nights when
she lay a-dying, often nearly choked, the prayer-meeting in the chapel
adjoining our house never once flagged. It was always full, and the overflow in other rooms. Every ten minutes messengers passed from the bedside
to the supplicating crowds, reporting her actual condition. They had changed
their petition when they saw it was God's will to take her, and prayed that
she might have a peaceful, painless end, and that I might be upheld by the
everlasting Arms. Many souls found the light during the death-struggle.
In her death she, by her beautiful and tender words, and patient endurance
of agony drew more souls to Jesus than ever. It was victory on victory,
triumph on triumph. Quite two hundred souls shared in the blessing. And
so, in this glorious manner, my dear wife entered into the presence of her
Jfr0m CaJteg's Peigfrt
Solo (Soprano).
Words by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Ridley, D.D.
mp .
Music by H. Gibbon, F.R.C.O. 29
The   roll   of saints   to    length • en. No   ha • lo bright or   sump-tu-ous grace
Pray'd,"Come a -gain    to   -  mor - row."     Such are God's an - gels       lov - ing   all,—
JS [ r-d r-
jgf "    U ■   m      P                *"*   ' -'
Their out -ward forms in - vest
Themselves the   last    to     che   -
Q         [                      pggg   | -j—
But   wea
Like   Je-
feet   and    ach • ing hearts
all    their strength was spent,
M .
Jf  *■*:
J- •
i dim.
l7Cj" tor 7^"
1-    J.    J.'
'   1        :=z:
"^-u* 'V  c^^^
With hell  for souls    con - test   -   ed.
That none they loved might per  -   ish.
_ 1
Here I will add in conclusion a sentence or two of what the Indians said
to me after my dear wife's death. One woman said, " She passed into the
breakers from the shore, but has gone up on the further side, beyond the
dark arch into the peace of angels."
Another said, " We see fulfilled after many years the first promise of
the Gospel among the Zimshians. It burnt nearly out when she brought
her torch. She held it aloft; she never let it drop. She saw us lying
in the stones and dirt, and put her pure hands under us to lift us up."
" She has gone," cried one Indian, "from the waves to the top of the rock t
We are orphaned." And then he added, in prayer, " God bless the Society
and bless the Church which sent so pure a soul to land on our shores, and
walk like an angel among us."
The words of another Indian were, " Our mother gave her life for us. Her
grave will be holy. Our children will have a place to learn how to live, and
what is new to us—how to die. Our children will hear of the humble life
of the great chieftainess, who lifted dirty Zimshians up and led them to
And yet another added, "Jesus said, ' I am the way'; now have we seen
pure feet on it.   We can now only see her back ; her face is in the glory 1" 30
Words by Frances Brook.
Chorus. Music by Sir J. Stainer, Mus.Doc.
i. mf There is singing in the Homeland,—(p) canst thou hear it o'er the strife ?—
cr The welcome of the martyrs as they enter into life :
f There is glory in the Homeland,—(p) canst thou see it through thy tears ?—
cr For lives laid down the victor's crown of life through endless years.
2. f There are praises in the Homeland, they are praising Jesu's Name:
His Word, their sword ; His blood, their shield ; 'tis thus they overcame I
There is gladness in the Homeland for the souls that loved their Lord,
And held Him dearer than the lives they yielded at His Word.
3. p There is weeping in the Earth-land,—canst Thou hear it, Saviour dear?
Mid triumph-songs can Earth's deep wrongs now reach Thy listening ear
cr Or the gladness of the ransomed,—(/) shall it hide Thy children's grief?
cr " Ah ! nay, I know their sorrows, I am come for their relief."
4. mf Never, never shall the notes of praise that ring through endless years
Shut out His people's prayers and cries from Jesu's listening ears,
dim Though their music strangely blendeth with the cry of them that fall,
cr Yet in the heart and love of God He findeth room for all.
5. f Christ is worthy, ever worthy ! at His feet we cast our crown,
And gladly for our Saviour (dim) lay our lives in darkness down ;
f What is sown in grief and darkness (cr) shall be raised in joy and light,
f God's harvest shall be worth the cost, His victory worth the fight 1
The Bishop's story is ended.     It only remains for us, while  his stirring
and touching words are still in our ears, to ask what their effect will be on
our lives.    To each of us our blessed Lord will surely come seeking for
fruit from this Service of Song.   What will He find ?
Will He find increased prayer?—some who have never regularly prayed
for Missionary work, beginning to do so?—some who have never used
Missionary Intercessions at their family worship commencing the practice
from to-night ?
Will He find increased self-denial?—self-denial in order to find more time
for the study of the books and magazines which tell us of the extension 31
of our Saviour's kingdom on earth?—self-denial in order to give larger
offerings for the evangelization of the world for which Jesus died ?
WTill He find, amid those gathered here, any who will present themselves
to Him now, body, soul, and spirit, to personally carry His Gospel, if He so
wills, to the nations sitting in darkness and the shadow of death ?
Will He find any fruits such as these from our Service of Song to-night ?
Or will He find none?
Oh, may He so pour out upon us more of His Spirit that we may go forth
to " show forth His praise not only with our lips, but in our lives, by giving
up ourselves to His service"—praying and labouring that " His Name may
be praised from the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same ;"
and so,—our lives one Hallelujah-song, and our work helping to swell the
Hallelujah-anthem ever ringing round the world,—we may look forward
to that blessed day when, standing before the throne and before the
Lamb, we shall hear, with the seer of old, the voice of a great multitude,—
a multitude which no man can number, of all nations and kindreds and
peoples and tongues,—as the voice of many waters and as the voice of
mighty thunderings, saying " Hallelujah ! for the Lord God Omnipotent
reigneth 1 The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our
Lord and of His Christ, and He shall reign for ever and ever 1"
Words by Rev. Napier Malcolm, M.A.     Chorus.
Music by W. Mullineux.
mf Father, to Whom the tribes of earth belong,
With all the legions of the heavenly throng,
cr Bought by Thy love we raise redemption's
ff The strain of Hallelujah.
p Thou, Whose dear Son from highest Heaven
cr That every knee mightjbend before Thy Name,
f Tune every tongue to swell the loud acclaim
ff Of perfect Hallelujah.
/ Grant that Thy Spirit from the throne above
cr May fill the ransomed with their Saviour's
/"Till to Thy service all Thy servants move,
# To teach the Hallelujah.
mf Their lips, their footsteps with Thy counsel
cr Till, as the tidings fill the whole world wide,
f Creation gathers to the Crucified
ff With songs of Hallelujah.
f For light celestial, for earth's darkness riven,
For Satan vanquished, and for sins forgiven,
And for the seed of Life sent down from
ff We lift the Hallelujah 1
f Lord of the harvest, Christ the reapers' Ring,
Send forth Thy servants to the harvesting,
cr That h«aven and earth, and sea and sky may
rail ff With one long Hallelujah.   Ameu. 32
(The Reader of the Service should then conclude with the following Prayers.)
Let us pray.
We yield Thee hearty thanks, Most Merciful Father, that it hath pleased Thee to
arouse Thy Church to be more earnest in preaching the Gospel to every creature ; we
thank Thee for those who have gone forth to labour for Thee in distant lands, and
for abundant blessing upon their labours. We praise Thee for the Native Converts
who have believed on Thee through their word, and for the Native Pastors and
Teachers who have held forth the word of life to their fellow-countrymen. We also
bless Thy Holy Name for all Thy servants who have counted not their lives dear
unto themselves, that they might finish their course with joy; beseeching Thee to
give us grace so to follow their good examples, that with them we may be partakers
of Thy heavenly kingdom ; through Jesus Christ our Lord.    Amen.
O Most Merciful and Gracious God, by whose Providence we have been brought
together at this time, make us, we beseech Thee, more deeply sensible of the high
privilege which we have thus enjoyed. May the things we have heard sink deep
into all our hearts, and exert an abiding influence on our motives and actions.
O Thou Spirit of Love, fill us with fervent charity and tender compassion for the
souls of the perishing Heathen ; and may we never cease to labour to the utmost for
their conversion to Christ.
Make us, for the time to come, more earnest, diligent, and self-denying in Thy
service. Give us stronger faith ; teach us to know the love of Christ, which passeth
knowledge, and so constrain us by that love, that it may be our chief delight to
glorify His Name, and to extend His kingdom amongst men; to whom with Thee
and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, world without end.    Amen.
O Lord, we beseech Thee mercifully to receive the prayers of Thy people which
call upon Thee ; and grant that they may both perceive and know what things they
ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to fulfil the same; through.
Jesus Christ our Lord.    Amen.
The Benediction.
tf      tf*     flS»
The GM.S* publishes :—
Jttontbly JMagazines: Intelligencer, 6d*;
Gleaner, XcU;   ^Edition, 2d.;
Mercy and Truth, Jd.;
Awake, id*;
Round World, id*
Boohs and pamphlets on JYIissions
and JMissionary Cttork.
Books for Children and Y^ng people*
JVIissionary JMaps, Diagrams, and Games*
papers for free distribution, &c*, &c.
Specimens of the Magazines, and a selection of the Free
Papers, together with a complete list of Books, &c, will
gladly be forwarded on application to—
The Lay Secretary,
Church Missionary Society,
Salisbury Square,
London, E.C.
Copies of this Service of Song will be supplied at the following rates, postage included, when ordered in quantities: *2
copies, 4s. ; 25 copies, 7s* 66.; 50 copies and upwards, half-
price t—these prices to cover postage or carriage.
44Words only" of Hymns and Anthems, price Id*; 50 copies
for 2/6 net; 100 copies and upwards, 4s* net per fOO.
m- /a


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