vain to comprehend it, he lost patience, and threw it on the ground. Dr. Guthrie drew himself up to the full height of his commanding figure, and, shaking his long forefinger at the man, he exclaimed, “If you treat me with indignity, Queen Victoria with a hundred thousand men will put me right.” The man did not understand a word that was said, but he could appreciate the attitude and gesture of the great orator, and he stooped very meekly and picked up the passport; the Guthrie party was set in a row, and the individuals pointed out in connection with their names on the paper, and the matter was soon straightened out. “Now, Mr. Carter, it’s your turn. You'll have to stand fire,” cried the Doctor. But Mr. Carter had no one but himself on the passport, so that there was no complication. The official glanced at it, attached his visé, and handed it back with a polite bow. “What’s the meaning of this?” exclaimed Dr. Guthrie. “Oh,” said Mr. Carter, “my honest face always carries me through.”
To return to Mr. Carter's own narrative:—
“After our return to Edinburgh I invited Dr. Guthrie and his family to tea. When the door bell rang, I went to the head of the stairs to receive the company. After entering the door, Dr. Guthrie looked up to where I stood, and said, ‘I have brought you an old friend whom you will be glad to see, Principal Cunningham.’ The latter had just returned to the city that day, and had gone to see Dr. Guthrie, who told him, ‘We are going to Mr. Carter’s to-night; will you go with us?’ That was the most delightful evening I spent in Edinburgh. The feast of reason and the flow of soul enraptured us all. We remember it the more vividly, as it was the last time we saw Dr. Cunningham in good health. He called on me afterwards, but he was un-
