The sun has set, and the hills among which our way lies, and the broad plain below on which Adelaide stands and the sea beyond it are lost to view. So I take up my pen to tell you, dear friends at Leeds, of what I have done and how it has been done to me this fortnight past. And first let me say, that if I return to you with only such modest self-esteem as I possessed when I left you, it will be in spite of the Unitarians of Adelaide, who have sent me away loaded with honor and compliments and votes of thanks and appreciation and kindnesses manifold and varied. Indeed, as I bade good bye this afternoon to the little crowd of young men and maidens, page 13 old men and matrons, including the senior of the congregation now in his 82nd year and hale and hearty still, I could not realise that fifteen days ago I was a complete stranger to every one of them. And the impression upon my mind—an impression which I know many of them share, though they and we know it to be a delusion—is, that we are old friends and are parting soon to meet again.

The Minister, the Rev. John Reid, is, like myself, one who has come out of the ranks of orthodoxy. He is a man in years considerably older than myself, in knowledge and experience at least as old, in spirit a veritable youth. He has been my everyday companion, and taken me about to see his people, and the interesting views of the neighbourhood. His society has infected me with an unwonted mirthfulness, and his ever-repeated "It's all right" has come to me as a cheery assurance that my "Allelulia" sermon was right, and sent me forward in better heart.

While at Adelaide I preached five times, gave two lectures, and spoke at two meetings, an amount of work much less than has often fallen to me in Leeds. So that neither you or I have any cause as yet to fear my being overtasked. My time has been largely occupied in visiting, and I trust to good effect. I am not aware that I have made any converts to Unitarianism, nor have I sought to do so. My desire has been to inspirit the congregation here, and confirm them in faith and hope. If their assurances are not wholly vain, I have not failed, and I go onward with somewhat less diffidence of my ability to fulfil my mission. But more difficult work is before me.

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Letters from Leeds just received tell me of the great success of the May Service of the Sunday Schools, and of the floral decorations which seem to have surpassed all that previous years have done. I heartily thank all who have given and worked for the occasion. Of course, it is not of me they have thought, but I am responsible for whatever is done or left undone by us, and I cannot but feel grateful to those who do the work whether I am present or absent.

It has also been reported to me that my friend Mr. Jacks' services have been acceptable to you all, and that some have been enthusiastic in their appreciation of his sermons. It is welcome news to me, and I trust to hear the same report of those who follow him. I do not pretend that it would be agreeable to me to be told that my people were wishing they could replace me and get some other pastor more to their liking. But I am not afraid of that, and short of that I am delighted to know that in my absence they have had as good as any better than I could give them. It is always grievous to me to hear of dissatisfaction with the supplies provided when I am away, and it spoils a holiday when I have reason to fear that those to whom I have undertaken to minister fare ill for lack of my services. Thank God there are many of my dear brethren in the English ministry who are as good or better than myself, and for some months you will have the opportunity of hearing the ablest among our younger men. Give them as favourable a hearing as your own minister has been given by you; it will he good for them and good for yourselves, and it will do me good to hear it.

C. H.