Truly, we are but as the sand upon the sea-shore. The tiny atoms shine, perhaps brilliantly, while the sun looks down upon them; but when clouds darken the sky, their brightness fades and soon is gone. Then a little later comes the rising tide--that overwhelming tide of Time, that sweeps them rapidly away. They are gone, and the place where they dwelt, and perchance glittered, knows them no more. No one asks for them; no one misses them. The sand is again as smooth as when they were there. The atoms around still quiver and shimmer in the sunshine as those now departed did of yore. Not only from association with the past is the quiet little chapel attractive, but there is something soothing in its very aspect. The fact that so little change has been made in the building or its arrangements for some hundred years is interesting, and it is touching to see the number of gray-headed men who usually attend the services. The memorials around also speak of those who are gone--the painted glass windows, the decorations, the richly-carved book of the Communion Service, are all gifts from those who dearly loved the old place. In these days of greatly increased form, it is rare also to find a preacher who appears in the pulpit arrayed in the old black Geneva gown. This quaintly-fashioned gown is precisely that to which our Puritan forefathers attached so much importance, deeming that it savoured less of Popery than any other raiment, inasmuch as its severe simplicity was as far removed as possible from the more imposing and, in their opinion, gaudy vestments of Rome. From the pulpit in Gray's Inn Chapel may be heard sermons that stir men's hearts, that enlighten men's minds. No man can hope to obtain the post of preacher to Gray's Inn, unless he possesses talents that entitle him to be listened to with respect and interest. Therefore, though quiet, though old-fashioned, though unemotional in ceremonies, many who think deeply, and who wish to listen to the words of those who also think deeply, may be found amongst the congregation gathered together in Gray's Inn Chapel. The present little building stands upon the site of the ancient chapel that received its Royal license from Edward II. in 1314, when John, the son of Reginald de Grey, was authorised to convey thirty acres of land, two acres of meadow, and ten shillings rent, with the appurtenances, in Kentish Town, and in the parish of St. Andrew's, Holborn, to the Prior and Convent of St. Bartholomew's, in Smithfield, and to their successors, to provide a chaplain to perform divine service daily for the repose of the soul of the said John, and for the repose of the souls of his ancestors for ever. The Prior of St. Bartholomew's, however, instead of providing a chaplain for the service of the chapel, appears, according to the accounts of the rents and payments of that monastery, to have paid the Society of Gray's Inn an annual sum of £7 13s. 4d.