"When the last lot went, I prepared for the Holy Communion on the theatre stage, and nearly a hundred came back to receive the Blessed Sacrament--officers, non-commissioned officers, and men kneeling on the muddy floor, remembering, worshipping, receiving into their hearts by faith, the vital power to fight, and, if need be, to suffer and die for the righteous cause. The Cross of Christ seemed to be so real, and its meaning so clear, to men who are really living away from the world's conventionalities, and up against death and the other life. "On the way back to my billet I found my unit on the road, having orders to move off, and I had to march along with them until dark, when we were all crowded into a farm with outbuildings large enough for our men. We had our goose and plum-pudding at nine P.M., and after a chat round a wood fire, lay down to rest at midnight." I have ventured to quote Bishop Gwynne's letter _in extenso_ from the _Guardian_, as it tells us so delightfully how one chaplain spent his Christmas Day, and how worthily he earned his Christmas dinner. What an insight it gives us also of the power of religion in our British Expeditionary Force! The Rev. E.R. Day, M.A. one of the senior Church of England chaplains, has a similar story to tell. He says that on Christmas Day there were no fewer than seven hundred communicants from one regiment and four hundred from another, and the service was held in a ploughed field with a packing-case for the Lord's Table. He adds that during the war he has conducted these Communion services in the back room of a public-house, in a stable, in a loft, in a lean-to shed, and in the open air--anywhere where room could be found. Another Church of England chaplain, writing to the _Church Times_, describes an attempt he had made to hold "Early Communion" at 6.30 on Christmas morning. He had done his best, with the assistance of the Army Service Corps, to provide all the accessories of a High Church celebration, candles, &c., but that was a failure--no one came. We are not surprised, for Thomas Atkins, as a rule, does not care for these accessories. He succeeded better, later in the morning, on the straw-littered floor of a soldier's billet. As he quaintly says, "It seemed fitting that as He first came among the straw, He should come to His soldiers to-day as they knelt on the straw." The Rev. J.D. Coutts, Wesleyan Chaplain with the First Division, describes another service. He says: