In the month of December, 1872, an extraordinary service took place. It was occasioned by the death of Sir Donald F. Macleod, C.B., K.C., S.A., who had for some time attended divine worship in Allen Street and communed with the Church at the Lord’s Table. He died from a mysterious accident at the Kensington High Street railway station, and this circumstance, together with his distinguished character and rank, attracted a crowded congregation when his funeral sermon was preached. A large number of officers and civilians connected with India, including Lord Lawrence, were present, and the greatest respect was shown to his memory. The discourse was published by request, and as this sketch of Kensington Church history is intended to include notices of eminent members of the congregation, the following extracts are not inappropriate:— “Having honourably and successfully occupied different posts of important service in India, he, in the year 1865, attained to the high position of Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjaub. . . . Sir Donald had a rare gift for putting himself into kindly fellowship with those he ruled, whether rich or poor, entering into their feelings and cultivating their regards, and by degrees he acquired a widespread influence in what might be called the country of his adoption, and all loved him as a friend and father; and it has been said, if the natives in the Punjaub had had to choose a prince, it would have been Sir Donald; a still more striking remark, given in the notice of his life by a leading journal, was recently made by a native gentleman, to the effect that ‘If all Christians were like Sir Donald Macleod, there would be no Mahomedans or Hindoos.’ . . . His calmness and self-possession during the fearful crisis of 1857 made him a safe counsellor when others were unnerved; besides which, on another occasion, during a terrible outbreak of cholera, he exerted himself in the care of sufferers, and in the burial of the dead, whilst others, panic-stricken, rushed away. “He had an extraordinary power of making friends, and few have had so large a circle of friendship. ‘Wherever he went,’ remarks a relative, ‘his presence was like sunshine, and the sunshine was the reflection of another presence, even of Him of whom it is said, “In Thy presence is fulness of joy.’” . . . His bright, cheerful appearance, commanding figure, and pleasant utterances won all hearts, especially those of the young, who were attracted by the magic of sympathy, a rare gift, which he did not fail rightly to employ.” “Into Thine hand I commit my spirit; Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth,” were amongst the last words he uttered, and they were selected as the text for his funeral sermon.