Anonymous

(Photo: K. J. Harrison and Co., Kewaigue, Isle of Man.)

SUNDAY AT KIRK BRADDAN.

For instance, who has not heard of the famous open-air service at Kirk Braddan churchyard in the Isle of Man?—a service which on an August Bank Holiday Sunday has attracted a congregation of twelve thousand people. Indeed, so great has been the crush on occasions that it has been impossible for the collection plate to reach all those gathered within sound of the preacher's voice—a truly lamentable fact from the churchwardens' point of view.

If the weather is fine, these open-air services begin, as a rule, on Whit Sunday and continue to the end of September, or, virtually during the whole of the holiday season. They were instituted in a somewhat remarkable way by a former vicar, "Parson Drury," as he was familiarly called, when it was decided to build Kirk Braddan New Church in consequence of the old church falling out of repair and being altogether inadequate as far as size was concerned for the worshippers who attended. Accordingly, while the new church was in process of erection, Mr. Drury conceived the happy idea of using the spacious churchyard, and so popular was the innovation that it has been kept up in the summer ever since.

Now the services are conducted by the present vicar—the Rev. Canon Moore—and, fittingly enough, his pulpit is the immense limestone slab erected to the memory of the founder of the churchyard services, "Parson Drury." It was felt, when the good man died, that no better memorial could be raised than a stone which might be utilised as a pulpit in the "Nature's church" where he had delivered so many powerful sermons.

The hymn-papers are distributed as the people pour into the churchyard on Sunday morning. The hymns are most heartily sung by the congregation. They are well known, and the tunes are also such as all can join in, and the effect of eight or ten thousand voices singing the simple strains is wonderful.

During the summer the aggregate number of worshippers amounts to sixty or seventy thousand, from all parts of the United Kingdom, but principally Lancashire and Yorkshire. Many people join in the service which is going on at the same time in Braddan new church close at hand, but the great majority prefer the open air under the shadow of the old trees and the venerable church.

It is rather remarkable that the Isle of Man should also possess what is believed by many to be the largest open-air service in the world. There are some folk who think that the Sunday service in Hyde Park answers to this description, though it is certain, in point of size, there is not a great deal of difference between that and the one held on Douglas Head.

There is, in reality, apart from the size, nothing very special to say about this service on Douglas Head. It is an ordinary service of an exceedingly simple character. Every attempt, however, is made to get a first-rate preacher, and two or three bishops have taken the service. Archdeacon Sinclair, who is a frequent visitor to Manxland, has officiated on several occasions. As at Kirk Braddan, the congregational singing is the great feature of the service. The Bishop of Sodor and Man is naturally the most popular of all the prelates who figure prominently at these services.

After these monster services, it is a delightful change to come to the "Egg Service," which was instituted in 1894 by the Rev. S. Alfred Johnston of St. John's, Streatham. It was thought that one of the most beautiful ways of observing Hospital Sunday would be to send a consignment of eggs to some of the patients in the great London hospitals, and accordingly the congregation were requested to make their offerings of eggs on the day when the various churches unite in rendering financial aid to the institutions in question.

The "Egg Service," like most other things, had a small beginning, for only 220 eggs were contributed the first year. In 1895 the number of eggs rose to 446, while the year following no less than 1,618 eggs were given. It was felt, however, that in Jubilee year a special effort ought to be made in view of the general assistance then being afforded to the hospitals by the scheme of the Prince of Wales, and so a "Jubilee" offering was arranged.

The service succeeded beyond all anticipations. Over five thousand eggs were to be seen in St. John's Church on Hospital Sunday, and the arrival of the various members of the congregation, carrying baskets of new-laid eggs, excited a great deal of local interest. By some means Her Royal Highness the Duchess of York heard of the service that year, and sent a sovereign to be spent on eggs. For this sum two hundred were obtained, the difficulties of transit alone preventing the Duchess from personally sending the eggs. It is only right to add that the giving of the delicacies referred to in no way interferes with the financial offertory at the service, which is forwarded to the Hospital Sunday Fund.

There is some prospect of these "Egg Services" becoming an institution in other parts. This year the Essex town of Maldon has followed the good example set at Streatham. Carey Church, Reading, also made an initial effort of the same kind this year.

These "Egg Services," inasmuch as they help the needy, call to mind the "Doll Service" that is held at St. Mary-at-Hill, Eastcheap, the church of the Rev. W. Carlile, the founder of the Church Army. On the Sunday before Christmas the congregation are requested to bring dolls, which are laid on a table near the altar. The gentlemen as well as the ladies are expected to provide a doll in some way or other, and consequently a goodly number of these ever-popular playthings are dispensed on Christmas Eve to the poorest of children in the East End of London. Mr. Carlile's service is now a fixed institution.

The followers of John Wesley are numerically very strong in Cornwall, and it is not surprising therefore that the strangest service held by that denomination takes place in that part of the country. A service in an old quarry is a decided novelty, and the fame of the "Gwennap Pit" service is justly popular with its lusty-voiced congregation of Cornishmen. Every Whit Monday the gathering takes place, so the Methodists within a radius of twenty miles are able to make it a day of pleasure as well as profit. The pit is situated not far from the quaint little town of Redruth.

The quarry forms a natural amphitheatre. Circular in form, and possessing row after row of steps, it is able to seat a good congregation, most of the members of which arrive by brakes. In the centre a sort of rostrum is erected for the various speakers, for addresses (and not a sermon) are the order of the day.

In days gone by John Wesley preached in this disused quarry to crowded congregations. Cornish folk always welcomed heartily the founder of Methodism, and they hold this monster service in memory of the time when Wesley frequently used the pit, first of all because it was the only place big enough, and secondly on account of the fact that it was the only one he was allowed to use. As a rule, great preachers are not invited, as the congregation prefer to hear the leading "local preachers." It is the boast of many a man that he first attended with his grandfather, who had already spent a good many Whit Mondays at Gwennap Pit.

The Oxford "May Morning" service is well known throughout the country, chiefly because it is the oldest of such gatherings, and—what is more—by far the best attended. It is held, as everybody knows, upon St. Mary Magdalen's tower at five o'clock in the morning, and is attended by the President and Fellows of the college as well as the members of the choir. A few strangers, however, are admitted, and, all told, the number of people on the tower amounts to about two hundred. The crowd in the street below, however, runs into thousands, instead of hundreds, as the illustration of the people on the bridge which crosses the River Cherwell fully bears out.

No matter what event takes place, the service is held on May Day. The crowd begins to assemble soon after four o'clock in the morning, when the bells begin to ring, warning the citizens that the time of service is approaching. At half-past four the choir begins to assemble, and one by one the members begin to make their way to the top of the tower, which very soon presents an animated appearance on account of the limited space to be obtained. When at last the hour of five arrives, and the clocks of the city begin to denote the time of day, the choir bursts forth into song ere the clocks have ceased striking.

The holding of the service confers upon the college the right of presentation to the living of Slimbridge in Gloucestershire, upon the income of which there is said to be an annual charge of ten pounds for the music on the top of the college tower. Similar services were at one time held at St. Paul's Cathedral, and at Abingdon, but after a time the custom died out. There is, however, no likelihood of that happening at Oxford, the service now having too great a hold upon the favour of the public.

Every July a most remarkable service is held at Folkestone. Like the majority of seaside resorts, Folkestone owns a big fishing industry, and it was felt that a service of thanksgiving for the harvest of the sea was just as desirable as the ordinary harvest festival. So every year the clergy and choir of the parish church march through the streets, singing hymns, and when the harbour is reached the fisher-folk join in the service of praise to God for the blessings vouchsafed in the past, and pray to be kept safe from harm in following their dangerous avocation, and also for "heavy catches" in the year to come.

Kirk Braddan churchyard service is not the only one of its kind in the country, though it is the biggest. For years a similar service has been held in the spacious churchyard of St. Tudno, situated on the Great Orme's Head at Llandudno.

The services are held both in the morning and evening, and although the Llandudno churches have special preachers during the season, none of them is so well attended as St. Tudno's. The service is simple and hearty, the singing is good—for Welsh people can sing—and the voices of the visitors blend harmoniously with the rich native element. All the tunes are well known, and the same can also be said of the hymns, which are printed on hymn-sheets to avoid the necessity of bringing books.

The congregation is a varied one. Men are there dressed in cycling costume, while caps and straw hats, with other holiday attire, are adopted by the great majority. The ladies are allowed to put up their sunshades, if they wish, and everybody is permitted to do as he or she desires. The graves form the seats. Some of the more adventurous perch themselves on the headstones, while others lay full length on the grass mounds, many of which are unadorned with names of any kind. The rector, the Rev. J. Morgan, has a loyal band of workers, who distribute the hymn-sheets, and also hand out cushions to the many ladies present. The congregation, which often numbers a couple of thousand, forms the choir.

One of the most pleasing parts of the service is the taking up of the offertory. This is chiefly done by boys, many of them being the children of visitors, and the youngsters are only too delighted to take part in this novel duty.

When the congregation disperses comes the prettiest scene of all, as the people wend their way down the hill—a long, unbroken line, which seems to reach as far as the eye can distinguish.

How many people are there, aware of the fact that the railway town of Derby has a series of services at the breakfast hour for the men engaged in the engineering works? These are attended by two thousand men every morning, and owe their origin entirely to the idea of one man of very humble circumstances in life. Yet this quiet, unassuming man initiated one of the grandest services in the country, held not occasionally but upon every working day in the year.

Thirty years ago very few men were employed at the works of the Midland Railway, compared with the number who work there to-day. Many of the men, whose homes were too far distant to admit of their returning for breakfast, were obliged to bring this meal with them. George Wilkins, the founder of these mess-room services, was in charge of an engine-room, and in the winter, as it was a nice warm spot, some of the men asked Wilkins if they might have their meal by his fire. The engineer gladly consented, and, being a Christian man, he took the opportunity of reading the Bible to them.

This fact got noised abroad, and other men joined in. The reading was first of all supplemented by prayer and then by singing. The fame of the little service continued to grow, until at last Wilkins's engine-room was not nearly big enough, and the place of service had to be moved to an open shed outside. For some time this shed answered the purpose; but as the railway works grew, and more men were employed, the attendance at the service increased, until at last it was absolutely necessary to erect rooms especially for the service.

First of all, grace is sung, and then the men set to work to eat their breakfast. Plates rattle and knives and forks jingle as the speaker for the day reads the Bible and gives a forcible address. But every word is heard, for the men are very attentive while eating their food. This is not surprising, for the services are taken by well-known laymen and clerics, and if a notable preacher is in the neighbourhood or about to pass through Derby, he is requested to break his journey and say a few words to the railway men at their breakfast. Many gladly do this if their engagements permit.

George Wilkins, the founder of these services, is dead, but a visit to Derby cemetery reveals the fact that his work has not been forgotten by those who now enjoy the fruits of his labour. Over his grave a fitting memorial has been placed, and upon it is inscribed the following: "In loving memory of George Wilkins, who died November 19th, 1872, aged fifty-three years. He was a faithful servant of the Midland Railway Company, and under God's guidance the beginner of a work for Christ which lives on still, though he is gone. Out of love for his character and gratitude for his work, his friends and fellow-workmen have erected this stone. His constant song was 'God is Love.'"

One does not hear very much nowadays of the open-air baptismal services which fifty years ago were so popular with the Baptist churches in the country districts. In Cambridgeshire, however, they still take place in many of the villages, and our illustration shows the service at Bottisham Sluice, which is situated near Waterbeach, the scene of the late Mr. Spurgeon's earliest labours. The minister stands in the river, and the candidate for church membership wades in to him and is immersed in the waters. A house near by is utilised for dressing purposes.

George Winsor.