spontaneous gift of a purse containing £3000.” Besides others who were present on the occasion, as noticed in _The Times_, let me mention my excellent friend and neighbour the Rev. J. Philip Gell, formerly Vicar of St. John’s, Notting Hill. He referred to the well-knit efforts of pastor and people, which had constituted the strength of the Church at Kensington, and remarked that it was little known how the force of public opinion acts and reacts on the life of a large permanent congregation. “The love which was thrilling that night was the Church’s strength, and so long as that lived and flowed on the part of the people, and was sustained by the pastor’s wisdom, so long would the Church live and prosper.” Dr. Morley Punshon, President of the Wesleyan Connexion, travelled from Leeds, where he had preached that morning. He trusted that the Church would be Divinely guided in choosing a successor. It was encouraging to witness such a presentation as that just made, the like of which many present had never seen before. The years I spent at Kensington were very happy. I can say from experience that the life of a Congregational minister, in connection with a large and liberal Church—when full play is given to the social affections, elevated and purified by culture as well as religion—is an enviable lot, and calls for the devout gratitude of any one who has enjoyed it. The friendships formed with many of my flock, a very few of whom are still living, have been amongst the choicest privileges afforded me by Divine Providence. Loving memories of them linger in my heart, amidst sweeping obliterations of names and faces incident to an age of fourscore and more, and those who survive me will, I trust, accept an acknowledgment of obligations deeply felt as these lines are written. I took special interest in some, now goodly matrons, who were school girls at Kensington in my time, and whose happy fortunes I have sympathetically followed through life. If they read these lines, they will understand the fatherly feeling with which they are written. Their parents, now at rest in the eternal home, were no small joy to me, and as they passed away, one after another, they left blanks not to be filled up in this world.