My departure from Paris came about in rather a curious way. In April and May, 1906, we had a visit from the late Dean Barlow (of Peterboro’). For the first of May (“Labour Day”) we had arranged a Drawing-room Meeting for the Dean on behalf of the Colonial and Continental Church Society, whose work in Canada was, and is, attracting so much attention in religious circles. It turned out, however, to be one of those “scares” with which Paris is sometimes afflicted, and the idea having got abroad that something dreadful was about to happen, only three people turned up! The Dean was very kind about it, and notwithstanding the small number present, gave us a most interesting account of his recent visit to Canada. The next morning when he was leaving, he turned to me and said, “Noyes, how long have you been here?” I told him nearly sixteen years, and added, “You must not leave me here too long.” The Dean had very considerable influence in Church patronage, and when he wrote to me in the spring of 1907, he said, “Do you remember what you said to me when I was leaving your house last year? Well, I have ventured to put your name forward for an important Church in London.” So slight often are the incidents which bring about changes in our lives. I had never heard of St. Mary’s, Kilburn, or been in this part of London before I came over to see the Church.

The saying “good-bye” is always trying, and especially after a long ministry among such a devoted congregation as I had in Paris. I preached a farewell sermon to a large congregation on Friday, June 9th, 1907, and although I struggled hard against it, completely broke down.

The next day I had to face a large gathering in the Washington Palace, to receive a most gratifying testimonial. The spacious room was crowded, and the kind expressions of regret almost overwhelming. It was here I was able to make the announcement that I had received a few days previously from a generous donor, who wished to remain anonymous, the magnificent gift of £4,000 towards the Paris Church House.

The following account appeared in the papers of the succeeding day:—

“At the Washington Palace this afternoon took place the presentation by Mr. Percy Inglis, British Consul-General, to the Rev. H. E. Noyes, D.D., of the testimonial from the congregation of the church in the Rue d’Aguesseau, consisting of an illuminated address, a cheque, and a flagon, in the presence of a large gathering, among whom were Sir Henry Austin Lee, Doctor Sewell, Mr. H. Millington Drake, the Very Rev. Father McMullan, Mr. Lammin, Mr. Le Cocq, and Mr. Coleman. Mr. Inglis read, amid great applause, the address, which is a tribute to the excellent work performed by Doctor Noyes during his sixteen years’ residence in Paris. In his reply Doctor Noyes related all that had been done for the charitable and other institutions of the colony during that period, and spoke very feelingly of the hearty support which he had received throughout from the Embassy and all its members. He noted this as especially interesting, that during that time he had seen four Ambassadors at the mansion in the Faubourg Saint HonorÉ, and no fewer than five Presidents of the Republic. Great enthusiasm was displayed when the reverend gentleman announced that he had received last week from a donor whose name could not be revealed the magnificent sum of 100,000 frs. for the contemplated clergy house. Afterwards Doctor and Mrs. Noyes took a hearty farewell of all their friends, with the expression of the hope that they would meet again in Paris and at their new home in London.”

My successor, as is well known, is the Right Rev. Bishop Ormsby (late of Honduras), and it is a curious circumstance that when I was curate of St. Matthias’s Church in Dublin, one of the congregation was Judge Ormsby, the father of the Bishop.

I left Paris with many regrets, and often have wondered since whether I had not been there too long to leave it. But the die is cast, and I can only now in quiet moments wander in thought over the familiar scenes, and think of the many kind friends, the memory of whom will never fade.