KING AND PARLIAMENT

The little church of St. Margaret – little only because it is completely dwarfed and overshadowed by the great mass of the Abbey beside it – is still faithful to the purpose of its first founder. During the building of the Abbey, Edward the Confessor set up a church here in order that those who were engaged upon the great work hard by might have a place in which to pray while their enterprise was still unfinished and unredeemed. Yesterday, while still the hammer-blows of our successful but incomplete work were ringing in France, the King and Queen, with the two Houses of Parliament, attended a solemn service of remembrance and rededication there. Nor is this the only coincidence. The famous east window of the church, now taken down for safety, was a gift to Henry VII from the town of Dort, and Dort (as the badge of the town records) was the first place in the Netherlands that ever dared save her existence by cutting her dykes and drowning out the attacking hordes; a drastic measure which was the great precedent for the flooding of Duke Albrecht of Wurtemburg’s army between Nieuport and Dixmude on Oct. 31, 1914, and the consequent saving of Calais and the Channel coast. The fourth anniversary of the war called for no great ceremonial. Simplicity, as the Archbishops said, best sets out significance. There was needed only a thankful, reverent, and careful remembrance of our steadfastness in the work that we have set before ourselves: of our own island’s security from the fear of starvation and defeat; of the fidelity of our Allies; of the progress we have made towards the goal of our endeavour and the order of the service yesterday was instinct with all these things. It was called one of prayer and thanksgiving, but the Court mourning, the cold, whitewashed grisaille of the temporary east window, the unintoned prayers and Litany – and perhaps, too, the unexpectedly severe tone in which the Archbishop’s sermon was chiefly set – combined to lay greater stress upon the gravity of this day of recollection. Soon after eleven the doors were closed, the west gate alone being left open for the reception, a few minutes later, of the Speaker and some 200 members of the House of Commons, headed by Mr. Lloyd George and Mr. Balfour. After a moment’s pause the Lord Chancellor led a similar procession from the Upper House. Then punctually at 11.30 the cheering outside announced the arrival of the King and Queen. The King wore the uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet. The Queen was dressed in unrelieved black, as were, of course, the other ladies of the Royal family who were present: Queen Alexandra, Princess Mary, and Princess Victoria. The Duke of Connaught, who accompanied his Majesty, was in field uniform.

THE SERVICE

There were few changes made in the usual order of Morning Prayer. The special Psalm xci. – with its alternate promises of beauty and a vengeance: He shall defend thee under his wings, and thou shall be safe under his feathers: this faithfulness and truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Yes, with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the ungodly, – was well chosen; as were also the lessons from Isaiah and the Book of the Revelation, read respectively by the Speaker and the Lord Chancellor. Wesley’s anthem, “O Lord my God, hear Thou the prayer Thy servant prayeth,” preceded the special Litany, which was read and responded to without music. It was brief, and there can have been none beneath the roof yesterday to whom its simple petitions did not come home with an everincreasing force in this latter day when the months have added themselves and made the years of war. But there was one petition that seemed beyond all others to make the present happier course of the strife a living thing within the walls of St. Margaret’s. “For the powerful and timely aid of the United States of America, We thank Thee, O God.” And as surely as Walter Raleigh’s headless body is lying there buried seven feet deep beneath the chancel pavement, so surely did his immortal part speak out aloud in both the petition and the solemn, almost whispered, response throughout the church. The Litany was followed by Mr. J. S. Arkwright’s beautiful and too little-known hymn, “The Supreme Sacrifice. This was, we believe, first heard at Colonel Clive’s memorial service. Before the sermon the Archbishop delivered the Bidding Prayer from the pulpit.

With the hymn, “O worship the King,” and the Archbishop’s benediction the service ended, and the Royal procession, followed by those of the Lords and Commons, re-formed and left the church by the west door. But they left it with yet one more beautiful and vital memory to add to the long list of its association with the story of this great nation, and of this race most favoured of God.

THE CROWD IN THE SQUARE

No more striking tribute to the solemn significance of the occasion and to the unremitting efforts of their Majesties in their people’s interests was forthcoming than that paid by the patient multitude that waited in the great square at Westminster. A glimpse of the Royal personages as they alighted from their carriages, the sight of a well-known peer or member of the Government, the distant strains of hymns familiar from childhood – these sufficed to make this greater congregation feel that it, too, bore a worthy part in the service. The people who waited thus patiently were of all sorts and conditions, the large number of soldiers, fit and wounded, being a notable feature. Attention was naturally first directed to the awning from the St. Stephen’s porch, beneath which it was known that the members of both Houses were to proceed to the church. A cheer could not be restrained when the Premier, Mr. Bonar Law, and Mr. Balfour were seen walking side by side. The public are not quick to recognise the lesser lights of Parliamentary life in the flesh, but the presence of such notable figures as Lord Robert Cecil and Mr. Stephen Walsh, representing the union for war purposes of parties that formerly differed so widely, was not unnoticed. Shortly before half-past eleven Queen Alexandra and Princess Victoria, attended by| Earl Howe, drove up to the west door of the church in a closed carriage, and were followed soon after by the Duke of Connaught. There was a burst of hearty cheering as the King and Queen arrived. Large crowds waited in the neighbourhood of the church till the conclusion of the service, and the Royal party again received a loyal ovation on leaving.