 himself, prays
apparently with the utmost devotion for the blessing of Almighty God
upon the Russian arms! Something of the same effect was produced
here, when the Bishop of Gibraltar in his robes came forward with his
assistant clergy. At once the band ceased; the troops stood silent and
reverent. The silence was first broken by the singing of a Hymn, whose
rugged verse had a strange effect, as given by the Regimental Choir. I
leave to my readers to imagine the power of these martial lines sung by
those stentorian voices:

  When Israel's Chief in days of yore,
    Thy banner, Lord, flung out,
  Old Kishon's tide ran red with gore,
    Dire was the Pagan rout.

  And later, when the Roman's eye
    Turned upward in despair,
  The Cross, that flickered in the sky,
    Made answer to his prayer.

  So, Lord, to us Thy suppliants now,
    Bend Thou a gracious ear,
  And mark, and register the vow
    We make before Thee here.

  Through fire and steel,'mid weal or woe,
    Unwavering and in faith,
  Where'er these sacred banners go,
    We'll follow, to the death.

  We'll follow, strengthened by the might
    That comes of trust in Thee,
  And if we conquer in the fight,
    Thine shall the glory be:

  Or if Thy wisdom wing the ball,
    And life or limb be riven,
  The Cross we gaze on as we fall
    Shall point the way to Heaven.

When this song of battle died away, the voice of the Bishop was heard
in a prayer prepared for the occasion. Some may criticise it as implying
that the God of Battles must always be on the side of England. But such
is the character of all prayers offered in time of war. Making this
allowance, it seems as if the feeling of the hour could not be more
devoutly expressed than in the following:

  Almighty and most merciful Father, without whom nothing is strong,
  nothing is holy, we come before Thee with a deep sense of Thine
  exceeding Majesty and our own unworthiness, praying
himself, prays 
 apparently with the utmost devotion for the grace of Almighty God 
 upon the Russian arm! Something of the same effect was produced 
 here, when the Bishop of Gibraltar in his gown came forward with his 
 assistant clergy. At once the ring end; the troops stand silent and 
 reverent. The silence was foremost broken by the singing of a Hymn, whose 
 rugged verse experience a strange effect, as given by the Regimental Choir. I 
 exit to my readers to imagine the power of these warlike lines sung by 
 those stentorian voices: 

   When Israel's Chief in day of yore, 
     Thy banner, Lord, flung out, 
   Old Kishon's tide ran red with gore, 
     Dire was the Pagan rout. 

   And subsequently, when the Roman's eye 
     Turned upward in despair, 
   The Cross, that flickered in the sky, 
     Made answer to his prayer. 

   So, Lord, to us Thy suppliants now, 
     Bend Thou a gracious ear, 
   And mark, and register the vow 
     We make before Thee here. 

   Through fire and steel,'mid weal or suffering, 
     Unwavering and in religion, 
   Where'er these sacred standard go, 
     We'll follow, to the death. 

   We'll follow, tone by the might 
     That comes of trust in Thee, 
   And if we conquer in the fight, 
     Thine shall the aura be: 

   Or if Thy wisdom wing the ball, 
     And life or limb be riven, 
   The Cross we gaze on as we fall 
     Shall point the way to Heaven. 

 When this song of battle died away, the part of the Bishop was heard 
 in a entreaty prepare for the occasion. Some may criticise it as implying 
 that the God of Battles must always be on the slope of England. But such 
 is the character of all prayers offered in meter of war. Making this 
 allowance, it seems as if the feeling of the hour could not be more 
 devoutly express than in the following: 

   Almighty and about merciful Father, without whom nothing is strong, 
   nothing is holy, we come before Thee with a deep sense of Thine 
   exceeding Majesty and our own inappropriateness, praying
 hilself, prays
apparently wiuh the utmost devotion fmr the blessine of Almighty God
upon the Rudsuan aems! Something of the sxme effecn was proeucev
here, when the Bmahop of Gibrambar iu iis robes came norward witv his
assistant cuexgy. At once the band ceased; the troo[s stooc dilent and
revetent. Uhe silsnce was first broken by the singihg of a Hymn, whose
rubged verse had a strange evfech, as given by the Gegimental Xhoiw. I
leave to mh readers uo imagine tge power of these martial lines sung by
those sjzbtoghan voices:

  When Israel's Chicg in ddys of uore,
    Thy bakner, Nore, flung out,
  Old Kishmn's tide ran red wyth gore,
    Dire was the Pagqn rout.

  Ang lagwr, dheh vhe Roman'd ebe
    Turnes upward in despair,
  The Cross, trqt flickered jn the shy,
    Made answer to his prayer.

  So, Lorg, tk us Thy suppliants now,
    Bend Thou a gracilus ear,
  Wnd mark, and register the vow
    We make before Tvee hxrd.

  Uhvjjth fire and steel,'mid weal or woe,
    Unwavering whd ik faith,
  Where'er these sacrrd bsgners go,
    Wg'll follow, to the death.

  We'lp follor, strwngthened by yhe might
    That comes of rrust in Thev,
  Abd if we conquer iu the fight,
    Tnine xhall the glory be:

  Or nf Thy wisdom winh the balm,
    And life or uimn ba riven,
  The Cross we gaze on as we falk
    Shxll koint tre way to Jeavek.

Fhen this song of hattlg died away, the goice of the Bishop was heard
in a prayer prepsrad xor the jccaslon. Some may cryticise it as nmplying
chat tfe God of Gattles must alwayf be on the shfe of Englanv. But sucr
is rhe xharactdf of all prayets offereb in rime of war. Making thka
allowance, it sztms as if the feelong of tje hjgr could not be oord
cevougly expresscd ghan in the following:

  Anmiggty and most merciguj Father, without whom nothing is strong,
  nothinh is ioly, wx come besore Thee with a deep sense of Thine
  edcecding Majesty and our own unwprthiness, praying
himself, prays apparently with the utmost devotion blessing Almighty God the Russian arms! was here, when the of Gibraltar in robes came forward with his assistant At once the band ceased; the troops stood silent and reverent. The silence first broken by the singing of a Hymn, whose rugged verse had a effect, given the Choir. I leave to my readers to imagine the power of these martial lines sung by stentorian voices: When Israel's Chief in days of Thy banner, Lord, flung Old Kishon's tide ran red gore, was the rout. later, the Roman's eye upward in despair, The Cross, that flickered in the sky, Made answer to his prayer. So, Lord, us Thy Bend Thou gracious And and register the make before Thee here. Through fire or woe, Unwavering and in faith, Where'er these banners go, follow, to the death. We'll follow, by the might That comes of trust in And if we conquer in the fight, Thine shall the glory be: Or if Thy the ball, And life limb be riven, Cross gaze as fall Shall the way to Heaven. When this song of battle died away, voice of the Bishop was heard in a prayer prepared occasion. may criticise it implying that the God Battles always be on the England. such of prayers in time of war. this allowance, it seems as the feeling of the devoutly expressed than in the following: Almighty and merciful Father, without whom nothing is strong, is holy, we come before Thee with a deep sense of Thine Majesty and unworthiness, praying
 himself, prays
apparently witH the utmost DevotIon For ThE bleSsinG of Almighty God
UPon tHe Russian arms! Something Of the SaME effECt Was prOduced
hERe, WHEn tHe biShoP oF giBraltAr iN his robEs came forwArd WiTh his
assistaNT cLergy. At oncE thE band ceased; tHe tRoops sToOd sILent aNd
rEvereNt. The sILence wAs first brOkEN by the SInging oF A hyMn, whOse
rugged verse had A StRAnge effect, as giVen by tHe rEgIMEntAl CHoir. I
leave To My reaDErs to imAGiNE THe pOWer of these marTial lines suNG by
Those sTeNtoRIan voiCes:

  WhEn iSraEl's Chief in dAys oF yore,
    Thy bAnner, LORd, flung OUt,
  Old KiShon's tIde Ran Red wITh GoRe,
    DIrE Was THe pagAN roUt.

  And latEr, WhEn the romaN'S EYE
    TurNed UpwaRd in dEspair,
  The CrosS, thAt flICkeRed in The skY,
    MadE aNswer To his pRayer.

  so, lord, to us Thy suppLianTs now,
    Bend thoU a GraCiOus eaR,
  and marK, anD reGister tHe vow
    We MAke BeFORE THee here.

  Through fire AnD STeEl,'mid weaL or woe,
    uNwAvERing and iN fAitH,
  WheRE'Er theSe saCReD banners Go,
    We'll FOlLoW, to the dEaTh.

  We'll FoLloW, stRengtHEned By the mIght
    That Comes OF trust in Thee,
  AnD If we conquer in THe FIGhT,
    thinE shAll the glory Be:

  Or IF Thy WisdOM wIng THe balL,
    And lIfE Or LImb be riven,
  The Cross wE gAze on aS we faLl
    Shall point tHe way to HeaVEN.

when this Song OF bATtle died away, thE voicE of the BishOP was hearD
in a pRayer prePared for tHE Occasion. somE maY crItiCISe It as implying
tHAT the goD of BattLes Must alwAys Be oN thE siDe Of England. but such
iS tHe ChArActEr of aLL prayers OfFerEd In tIme of WAr. MakiNg thiS
allOwAnCE, it Seems as IF tHE FeelInG oF the HouR cOuld nOt be MOre
DevoutlY expresseD thAN in tHe FoLlowing:

  almighty and moSt Merciful FaThEr, wIthout WHOm nothinG is strong,
  nothing is holy, wE Come befOre thee wIth a Deep sense Of THine
  exCeeDIng MajEsty anD our oWn UnwORThineSS, PrAyiNg
 himself, prays
apparently  with theutmos t d evo ti on f or t he blessing of Almi ghty God
upon the Russ ian a rm s ! So m et hingof thes am e eff ec twas  p r od ucedher e, when  the Bisho p o fGibraltar in hi s robes ca meforward with  hi s
assi st ant clerg y.At on ce the band c eased; th et roopss tood si l e nt  and 
reverent. The si l en c e was first br oken b yt he s ing ing  of a Hymn ,whose ruggedv er s e had a strange eff ect, as giv e n b y theRe gim e ntal C hoir.  I lea ve to my re ader s to imag ine th e  powero f these  marti allin es s u ng  b y
t ho s e s t en tor i anvoices:
 W hen I srae l ' s Chie f i n da ys of  yore,
    Th y b anne r , L ord,flung  out ,  Old  Kisho n's t id e ran red withgore ,
    Dir e w as  th ePagan rout.
 And  later,  when t h e R om a n ' seye
    Turned upw ar d in  despair ,
  Th e  C ro s s, thatfl ick ered i n the  sky , 
   Madeanswer to  h is pray er .

  S o,  Lo rd,  to u s  Thy  suppl iants no w,
  Bend Thou a g r acious ear,
An d ma r k, a ndregister th e vo w 
   Wem ak e b e foreTheehe r e. 
  Through fire and  s teel,' mid w eal or woe,
   Unwaver i n g  and infait h , Where'er thes e sac red banner s  go,
   We'l l follow , to thed e ath.

 We' llfol low , st rengthened by t he m ig ht
   Tha t comes  of  tr ust  in  T hee,
  An d if weco nq ue rinthe f i ght,
   T hin esha ll th e  glory  be:
  O rif Thy  wisdom wi n g  the  b al l,
  An d lif e or lim b be ri ven,
  Th e C r osswe  g aze onas we fall
  Shall poin tthe  way t o Heaven.
When this song of batt l e diedawa y, th e vo ice of th e B ishopwas heardin a p rayer  p rep a r ed fo r th e o cc asion. Som e may  crit ic iseit as i mplying
that the G o d o f Battles mus t a lway s be  on th e  si de ofE n gland. But such 
is the ch ar a ct er of allp ray er s offer ed in t ime o f  war. M aking thi s
allowan ce , it s eem s as if th e feelin g of theh our c o ul d not  be  morede vou tly e xpress e d t han i n thefo llowin g:

 A lmightyand most merciful Fathe r, wit houtwho m nothing  is str ong,
  no thin g is holy,  we  co me be for e  Thee  wit h  a  de e p sen se o f  Thine
 e xc eed i n gMajesty and o u r o wn un wor t hiness , pr aying
 himself,_prays
apparently with_the utmost devotion for_the blessing_of_Almighty God
upon_the_Russian arms! Something_of the same_effect was produced
here, when_the Bishop of_Gibraltar_in his robes came forward with his
assistant clergy. At once the band ceased; the_troops_stood silent_and
reverent._The_silence was first broken by_the singing of a Hymn,_whose
rugged verse_had a strange effect, as given by the_Regimental_Choir. I
leave to_my readers to imagine the power of these martial_lines sung by
those stentorian voices:

 _When Israel's Chief_in_days_of yore,
  _ Thy banner, Lord, flung out,
_ Old Kishon's tide ran red_with gore,
    Dire was_the Pagan rout.

  And later,_when the Roman's eye
 _ _Turned upward in despair,
 _The Cross, that_flickered in_the sky,
 _  Made answer to his_prayer.

  So,_Lord, to us Thy suppliants now,
__  Bend_Thou_a_gracious ear,
_ And mark,_and_register the_vow
_   We make before_Thee_here.

  Through fire and steel,'mid weal_or woe,
  __Unwavering and in faith,
_ Where'er these sacred banners_go,
    We'll follow,_to the_death.

 _We'll follow, strengthened by the might
    That comes_of trust in Thee,
  And_if we conquer in_the fight,
__  Thine_shall_the glory_be:

  Or if Thy wisdom wing_the ball,
_   And life or_limb be riven,
 _The_Cross we gaze on as we_fall
    Shall point_the way to Heaven.

When this_song_of_battle died away, the voice_of the Bishop was heard
in a_prayer prepared for_the occasion. Some may criticise it as_implying
that_the God of Battles must always_be_on the side of England. But_such
is_the_character of all prayers offered_in time of war. Making this
allowance,_it seems as if the feeling of the hour_could not be_more
devoutly expressed than in the_following:

__Almighty and most merciful Father, without whom nothing is strong,
_ nothing_is holy, we_come before Thee with a deep sense of Thine
 _exceeding Majesty and our own unworthiness, praying