In the autumn of 1885 the Evangelical Alliance met at Edinburgh and Glasgow, and in the latter city I was entertained by the Lord Provost, Sir William and Lady Collins, and met there, Admiral Sir W. King Hall and his lady, with whom a pleasant friendship sprang up, and I accepted an invitation to visit them at their home, but his death soon afterwards deprived me of the anticipated pleasure. They appeared to me spiritually minded people; their society with that of our excellent host and hostess filled me with great pleasure. At the meeting I lamented, as I am accustomed to do, our numerous ecclesiastical divisions. “Here we are as Christians connected with denominational churches, and we may be compared to persons living in an island city, where we have our own municipal regulations, where some are in what may be called Episcopalian Square, some occupying Methodist Terrace, some residing in Congregational Road, and some liking to live by the waterside. Whilst these differences exist amongst us in this world, surely it sometimes crosses our minds that they are distinctions of a very temporary nature. The things which are seen are temporal, but the things not seen are eternal. We are looking away from what is familiar to what is now rare indeed—perfect unity.” I have long found it to be one of the sorrows incident to old age to lament the loss of attached friends. In this respect I was much tried in the year 1886, for I had then to deplore the death of Lord Chichester, who became acquainted with me through the medium of the Evangelical Alliance about twenty years before. Of late he was unable to attend meetings, but our intercourse in private continued and increased as years rolled on. Descendant of Sir John Pelham, who figured in the French wars, described by Froissart, and an immediate relative of a well-known political family of the same name in the last century,—the Earl became an earnest Christian and an active philanthropist for more than half a century. Possessed of wide and varied information respecting men and things, and being eminently genial and altogether free from ostentation, his society could not but be agreeable and instructive. It was a treat to hear him recount incidents and conversations of former days. At different times he brought within view George IV., William IV., the Duke of Wellington, leaders of the Whig party, and other magnates. He told me that when approaching his majority his father proposed that he should enter the House of Commons, and the Duke of Newcastle promised him a seat for Newark. Before an election arrived the father of young Lord Pelham died, and the son became a peer. It is remarkable that the seat intended for him in the Lower House was next occupied by the now famous William Ewart Gladstone. “The Grand Old Man,” in conversation with my friend not long before his death, speculated, in his characteristic way, upon possible consequences to each, had the seat been accepted by young Lord