One day I found a piece of twisted paper which I picked up thinking I had dropped it myself. I found in it a gold ring with a snake's head. It was so modest and curious that I wore it. Four years after, on a visit to Mr. W. H. Duignan, at Rushall Hall, on the border of Cannock Chase, I lost it. Four days later I arrived by train at Rugby Station with five heavy-footed countrymen. I went to the refreshment room. On my return only one man was in the carriage. The sun was shining brightly on the carriage floor, and there in the middle, lay, all glittering and conspicuous, my lost ring unseen and untrodden. I picked it up with incredulity and astonishment. How it came there or could come there, or being there, how it could escape the heavy feet of the passengers who went out, or the eyes of the one remaining, I cannot to this day conceive. After I had lost it, I had walked through Kidderminster, Dudley Castle, and Birmingham, and searched for it several times. I had dressed and undressed four times. I lost it finally during Lord Beaconsfield's last Government, at the great Drill Hall meeting at Blackheath,* in a Jingo crush made to prevent Mr. Gladstone entering to speak there on the Eastern policy of that day. In future times should the ground be excavated, the spot where I stood will be marked with gold--the only place so marked by me in this world. * November 30, 1878. ***** It is probably vanity--though I disguise it under the name of pride--that induces me to insert here certain incidents. Nevertheless pride is the major motive. When I have been near unto death, and have asked myself what has been the consolation of this life, I found it in cherished memories of illustrious persons of thought and action, whose friendship I had shared. There are other incidents--as Harriet Martineau's Letter to Lloyd Garrison, Tyndall's testimony, elsewhere quoted--which will never pass from my memory. ***** The first dedication to me was that of a poem by Allen Davenport, 1843--an ardent Whitechapel artisan. The tribute had value in my eyes, coming from one of the toiling class--and being a recognition on the part of working men of London, that I was one of their way of thinking and could be trusted to defend the interests of industry. ***** The next came from the theological world--a quite unexpected incident in those days. The Rev. Henry Crosskey dedicated his "Defence of Religion" to me. He was of the priestly profession, but had a secular heart, and on questions of freedom at home and abroad he could be counted upon, as though he was merely human. The dedication brought Mr. Crosskey into trouble with Dr. Martineau. Unitarians were personally courteous to heretics in private, but they made no secret that they were disinclined to recognise them in public. Dr. Martineau shared that reservation. Letter from Dr. James Martineau to Rev. W. H. Crosskey:--