the latter end of the last century and beginning of this, unmistakably showed that she had associated on familiar terms with many of the celebrated persons who lived and moved and produced a sensation nearly a hundred years ago. She used to sing some very good songs; they were chiefly Scotch, and when singing them she would work herself up into a great state of excitement. She was very fond of talking to me, and I suppose this arose from the circumstance of my taking interest in her conversation. She was a very well-behaved old woman, and therefore a great favourite with the inmates and nurses, who were highly amused whenever they could get her to sing one of her Scotch songs. At the latter end of the last century and the beginning of the present, she had accompanied her male friend through Portugal and Spain prior to the war; at the same time she knew Lord Nelson and Wellington before their names had become famous. When she had reached 104, she rather suddenly lost her vivacity, became childish, and insensibly passed from time into eternity. We had, during the portion of the time I was at the Westminster Union, quite a little community of aged and, so far as I could ascertain, religious women, at any rate they struck me as being such, and I kept them together until the harmony of their daily life was rudely interfered with by the master and matron, Mr. John Bliss and Miss Heatley, neither of whom had any sympathy with, or kindly feeling for, decently conducted pauper women. Indeed they rendered the lives of these people so wretched by harsh interference, as to compel me to distribute them among other wards; some of them I even sent away to the sick asylum hospitals, so as to get them out of their way. It was a wonder to me that Miss Heatley, after all that was proved against her on the official inquiry, should ever have been allowed to continue matron of the Workhouse; but though spared by man's power, she was destined to perish by one of the most fearful diseases that can afflict any woman, being destined to die of cancer of a certain internal organ, and I have been told her sufferings were of the acutest possible character. It is very remarkable that, having had very large opportunities of witnessing the deaths of my fellow-creatures, I have constantly observed that some untimely fate has overtaken those who, exercising power in a workhouse, have exhibited a cruel use of that power; and of one thing I am absolutely certain from personal observation, repeated over and over again, that, "Blessed is he who considereth the poor and needy, the Lord shall deliver him in the time of trouble." It has often been asserted that the inmates of a workhouse are generally worthless people, but I demur to that conclusion entirely. Of this I am certain, that many a person who has died in the infirmary of the sick ward of a workhouse has gone as straight to Abraham's bosom as has ever passed from a bishop's