brilliant trumpet-flower,
the passion-flower, and innumerable others.

The Sunday after our arrival we attended service at the Baptist Church.
The people came in slowly; for they have no way of knowing the hour,
except by the sun. By eleven they had all assembled, and the church was
well filled. They were neatly dressed in their Sunday-attire, the women,
mostly wearing clean, dark frocks, with white aprons and bright-colored
head-handkerchiefs. Some had attained to the dignity of straw hats with
gay feathers, but these were not nearly as becoming nor as picturesque
as the handkerchiefs. The day was warm, and the windows were thrown open
as if it were summer, although it was the second day of November. It was
very pleasant to listen to the beautiful hymns, and look from the crowd
of dark, earnest faces within, upon the grove of noble oaks without. The
people sang, "Roll, Jordan, roll," the grandest of all their hymns.
There is a great, rolling wave of sound through it all.

"Mr. Fuller settin' on de Tree ob Life,
Fur to hear de ven Jordan roll.
Oh, roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan roll!

CHORUS.

"Oh, roll, Jordan, roll! oh, roll, Jordan, roll!
My soul arise in heab'n, Lord,
Fur to hear de ven Jordan roll!

"Little chil'en, learn to fear de Lord,
And let your days be long.
Oh, roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan,
roll!

CHORUS.

"Oh, march, de angel, march! oh, march, de
angel, march!
My soul arise in heab'n, Lord,
Fur to hear de ven Jordan roll!"

The "Mr. Fuller" referred to was their former minister, to whom they
seem to have been much attached. He is a Southerner, but loyal, and is
now, I believe, living in Baltimore. After the sermon the minister
called upon one of the elders, a gray-headed old man, to pray. His
manner was very fervent and impressive, but his language was so broken
that to our unaccustomed ears it was quite unintelligible. After the
services the people gathered in groups outside, talking among
themselves, and exchanging kindly greetings with the superintendents and
teachers. In their bright handkerchiefs and white aprons they made a
striking picture under the gray-mossed trees. We drove afterward a mile
farther, to the Episcopal Church, in which the aristocracy of the island
used to worship. It is a small white building, situated in a fine grove
of live-oaks, at the junction of several roads. On one of the to