“Now, sir, I would like very much to see that man,” and I continued, “I am in a hurry, but if you let me see that man I will be very much pleased.” So he called up a happy-looking lame man, named Tom. “Now, Tom,” I said, “you speak in Chinook, for this ‘father’ won’t understand you if you speak in your own language; and speak the truth, Tom.” “Nawitka” (yes), Tom assented. “Spose nika halo delate wawaw, Saghalie Tyee solleks kopa nika” (“If I do not speak the truth, God will be angry with me”). “That is right, speak all the truth, Tom.” “Well, you came to my house this last week, and you say to me, ‘Tom, what you think about building this new church?’ I say to you, ‘I am a Catholic.’ You say, ‘Oh, very well, Tom, suppose you not give anything, all right.’ But you asked me where my brother is. I tell you my brother is very sick in the house. You go in and talk very kind to my brother about Jesus, in our own language, and sing, oh, so nicely, and then you say, ‘Let us pray,’ and you kneel down and pray in my own language, and you pray and pray; by and by my heart get very warm, when you pray; and when we get up, I tell you I give $2.50 to help build your church.” Turning to the priest I said, “Now, did I compel the man to give money to my church?” and jumping on my horse, I bade him good-bye, leaving all the white men and the Indians, who had crowded around to see what was going to be done by the two priests, to judge for themselves. I rode on to my evening appointment, where I had promised to preach to the white people. On the way, whether it was the excitement of my interview, or something else, I do not know, but I forgot both my sermon and text. I expected to preach to a number of settlers, some of whom had families by native women, to whom they were not married. By the time I reached the farm-house my mind was directed to the text, “No man cared for my soul.” And if ever the Almighty helped a poor mortal to preach He did it that night. Thoughts seemed to come right down from heaven, pouring through my soul to the people around me. I spoke of the judgment day, when the cry would come from these dishonored mothers and children, “You sinned with us and dragged us down, but you never cared for our souls.” God helped me fearlessly to preach the truth, and then applied it with convicting power to their hearts. At the close of the service I spoke of how the Indians had started a subscription to build a church, and said that if anyone there would like to help they were at liberty to do so. “Well, I think I can give you five dollars after that heat,” said an old man, whom some thought the worst in the crowd. Several followed his example and gave five dollars each. Thus the first church in Chilliwack was subscribed for by Indians and whites alike, and for a time served the purpose for both. Early next morning I left for the coast of Vancouver Island. THE BEGINNING OF THE REVIVAL.