Paris is a city which might well be compared to the Adulamites Cave, where all in distress and difficulty congregate. Among the unfortunates was the late Oscar Wilde. I had known him a little in Dublin as a student, and had also met him at Lady Wilde’s receptions. He came to Paris to die. When I heard of his serious illness I went down at once to enquire, but found he had passed away. The “concierge” told me that he had been visited by a Priest, and baptized into the Roman Church. As is often the case, the Baptism was administered when the patient was “in extremis,” and knew nothing about it. The Roman Church, however, claimed to take the funeral, and I could not object. Curious mistakes were sometimes made by the French Postal authorities, owing to the difficulty of language. Each Easter it was my custom to send out a card to the members of the congregation giving notice of the services, and at the foot a suitable quotation from the Scriptures. In 1895, I sent out the card as usual, and the passage was “The Lord is Risen.” One came back to me through the dead-letter office addressed to “The Lord is Risen, 5 Rue d’Aguesseau.” All sorts of ideas and rumours were circulated when the French Church was separated from the State. One morning a French gentleman called at the Vestry and asked me if it was true that Sir Francis Bertie, our present Ambassador in Paris, had purchased the Madeleine Church, our own being too small! This is somewhat parallel to the story of an Irish clergyman, who told me that the day after the bill passed to disestablish the Church in Ireland he heard in the early morning a scythe going in his field. A stranger was cutting his hay. Upon enquiry, the man said: “Sure, sir, the Church is disestablished now, and I thought I would come early for my share!”