It had been arranged that on this day the Bishop should visit some of the London Regiments that have recently gone to the front. Naturally he always looked forward with special eagerness to an opportunity of meeting, in these fresh surroundings, London men, to so many of whom he has spoken and preached in his diocese. Fortunately he was able in the course of the week to visit nearly all these regiments, although some of the men who were in the trenches could not, of course, be present at his services. To us, coming out from London, it was a great source of satisfaction and pride to hear of the high esteem in which these Territorial regiments are held by the leaders of our Army. It was not a very long time, as the motors slipped along the quiet country roads, before we began to hear the distant sound of guns, and as long as we were within a short distance of the firing-line there was seldom an hour in which guns could not be distinctly heard. Here and there, too, could be seen a battery hidden beneath a belt of trees, or sheltered under the hedge by the side of the road. We were curious to see how the countryside would look after its long occupation by the British Army. We had expected, perhaps, to see more signs of war, although we had not known what to anticipate. Beyond the fact that there were many bodies of troops moving on the roads, and that many farms and other large houses had notices fixed up outside to show they were the Headquarters of some unit, there was nothing, as a rule, except in the areas which have been actually shelled, to give any indication of the terrible nature of the struggle which is being waged so close at hand. Indeed, if the road took us to the top of one of the few hills in that country, and we looked out over the landscape, just beginning to show the first touches of spring, it was almost impossible to realize that between us and the horizon stretched that long valley of trenches which divides the two great armies. When we drove along the roads at some distance from the actual front, it was often hard to believe that this was the real seat of war; but a passing transport wagon or a patrol of cavalry riding by soon reminded us of stern realities. The recent absence of rain, and the warm sun, had caused the roads to dry up considerably, and many officers seemed to be quite disappointed not to be able to show us many samples of the mud to which they had become so accustomed, and of which we had heard so much. We wondered, also, very much how the men would look after their hard and trying winter. Certainly I was surprised to notice how very clean and tidy they invariably appeared to be; although, of course, uniforms must show signs of wear and tear. In every case, except where the men were actually fresh from the trenches, the Battalions presented a smart appearance. II--SOLDIERS SINGING: "JESUS LOVER OF MY SOUL"