"Let the members be filled with thy love, Sing glory, hallelujah! etc. "And the work of the Lord shall revive, Sing glory, hallelujah! Amen!" The tide of religious feeling rose higher and higher. The standing invitation of Methodism to weary souls seeking the forgiveness of their sins, was given. Several persons presented themselves at the "penitent bench," most of whom were enabled to rejoice in a sense of conscious pardon. Sunday was indeed a "high day" at the old Ancaster log meeting- house. From near and far, in sleighs, on horseback, and on foot, came methodist worshippers, and found hospitable welcome with the families of the neighbourhood. First there was love-feast at nine o'clock. The cruel war had not left unscathed that rustic congregation. There were rusty weeds of woe,--a black ribbon, a bit of crape, or a widow's cap,--that bore witness to the loss of husband or son in the sad conflict. The empty sleeve, pinned across the breast of one stout young fellow, showed that the strong right arm with which he had hoped to fight his battle of life, and hew out a home in the wilderness, had been buried in a gory trench with the bodies of his slain friends and neighbours. But their temporal sufferings seemed to have driven these simple- minded people nearer to the source of all comfort and consolation. Many of the experiences and hymns had quite a martial ring. One of the latter was as follows: "Ye soldiers of Jesus, pray stand to your arms. Prepare for the battle, the Gospel alarms. The signal of victory, hark! hark! from the sky; Shout, shout, ye brave armies, the watchmen all cry, Come with us, come with us, Come with us in love, Let us all march together to Heaven above. "To battle, to battle, the trumpets do sound, The watchmen are crying fair Zion around; Some shouting, some singing, salvation they cry, In the strength of King Jesus, all hell we defy. Come with us," etc. As this was taken up by one after another and welled into a grand chorus, it was impossible not to share the enthusiasm that it created. Another prime favourite was the following: "Jesus, my king, proclaims the war; I want to die in the army; Awake, the powers of hell are near, I want to die in the army. "'To arms! to arms!' I hear the cry, 'Tis yours to conquer or to die,' O the army, the army, the army of the Lord! I want to die in the army." The god-fearing Canadian yeomanry, as they sang these strains, nourished at once their religious feelings and their patriotic enthusiasm. They felt in their hearts that love of King and country, and their valiant defence and self-sacrifice on their behalf, were also an acceptable service to God.