The custom of British peers signing only their surnames, or by peerage designations, though no older than the times of the Stuart kings, has been imitated by the prelates even on hotel registers. This fashion of using geographical affiliations with their surnames only had an amusing illustration while we were in Scotland. A certain American bishop from our neighborhood, travelling through Europe, subscribed himself, let us say, as “Theophilus of Peoria.” By accident, this worthy man of God was followed around by a clergyman of Scottish descent, who was not loath, for the sake of a good joke, to imitate the example of so noble a son of the Church. He made his sign manual, let us say, as “Bartholomew of Pony Hollow.” Happily in these our days the Scots and English, though so different in old and fundamental ideas, have come to work hand in hand together in civil government. Even within the fold of salvation, they dwell in Christian charity, ever agreeing to differ--the Episcopalian in Scotland being a “Dissenter” and the Scotch Presbyterian in England the same, each being in his own country a “Churchman,” while the average American is amused at the whole proceeding. With what a hearty roar of merriment a party of us Bostonians, when we saw it, bought, for the fun of the thing, a photograph, of cabinet size, found in the London shop windows, of our neighbor, friend, and fellow Christian, the “Lord” Bishop Phillips Brooks, of Yankee land and Hub fame and beloved by all men. Think of an American shepherd of God’s heritage “lording” it over the flock! Yet we forgave the English printer, who probably never noticed his own joke, or knew how funny he had made himself to Yankees. A survey of Scottish religious history, such as Melrose, Iona, and St. Andrews suggest, shows that in the first working-out of the human spirit, as it reacted upon form and symbol and developed in submission to discipline and the law of unity, the Scottish churches, of necessity, followed the rule of Rome. The flowering of the human spirit, in the hewn stone of church and abbey, took on forms of beauty akin to those in the south, yet with Gothic luxuriance. The marble blossomed in air as from the native rock, and the artist’s chisel made gardens of beauty. Wonderful and alluring was the reality of the mediæval landscape, gemmed with richest architecture and wealthy in sacred edifices made beautiful with color, carving, gems, and the gifts of the devout, the travelled, and the wealthy. The graceful edifices, the abbeys and monasteries, the parish churches, the tithe-barns, the castles and bishops’ seats, made even this far northland a region of charm and romance. Within these sacred walls, what impressive chants and processions, incense and lights, and all that resplendent paraphernalia of robed and costumed ministers of religion, which, whether in pagan or Christian lands, do so appeal to the senses in spectacular worship!