the men listening for twenty minutes or more with evident interest.  I interspersed my address with illustrations from my travels and experience in this country, which seemed to hold them in attention to the finish.  The General Confession was then recited and a few other prayers from the Liturgy, and one of the most hearty and successful voluntary services was concluded by the singing of the hymn “Glory to Thee, my God, this night.”  I went to my tent thankful for the good work being done by the various Christian organizations, and convinced that many went home with new aspirations after a better and nobler life.’[14]

[Footnote 14:  Methodist Times, Feb. 8, 1900.]

=The Chaplains of the Church of England.=

Here, perhaps, we may refer for a moment to the services of the Church of England chaplains in general.  The Church is singularly fortunate in the men it has sent to the front.  The senior chaplain with the Guards, Colonel Faulkner, has set an example to all the others by his intense devotion.  He has advanced all the way with Lord Roberts to Pretoria and beyond.  He has returned invalided, but not until he has nobly done the work he was commissioned to do.

The chaplains sent out from Aldershot were men whom every one esteems and loves.  The praise of the Rev. R. Deane Oliver is on every one’s lips.  Of the Rev. A.F.C.  Hordern we shall have occasion to speak when we come to the siege of Ladysmith.  The Rev. T. P. Moreton is an eloquent preacher and a Christian gentleman, interested in all good work.  And what shall we say of the Rev. A.W.B.  Watson?  He is a hero, though, like all other heroes, he would be the last to believe it.

=Mr. Watson in the Soudan and in South Africa.=

Sitting at the tea table of a corporal of the Medical Staff Corps a short time ago, we began to talk of Mr. Watson.  ‘Ah!’ said he, ’Mr. Watson is my hero.  You know he went through the Soudan campaign.  I had charge of the cholera tent.  At one time I was left alone to manage it.  Not another chaplain but Mr. Watson came near.  Twice a day he came without fail.  One day he came in, and found me lying on the floor in a state of complete prostration.  He lifted me up and carried me to his tent.  He then came back to the tent of which I had charge, and all day he attended to my poor cholera patients, washed them, and performed all my most loathsome duties.  Love him! of course I love him.  I would lay down my life for him.’

Mr. Watson has gone to South Africa at the risk of his life, but he would go.  He had been through a severe operation, and was in a most critical condition.  He begged permission to go, but of course the doctors could not pass him.  He could not, however, bear to think of his men being there without him.  And after trying one expedient after another, he, who had been refused permission on the ground of ill-health, at last got out under the plea that the climate of South Africa might be beneficial!  May God spare him for many years!