In Penninghame Church on Sunday, at the close of a sermon on Ezekiel xxxvi. 26, Rev. Mr Inglis said—"In conclusion, the dark picture of a Court in sorrow and mourning this day, suggests, as a bright hope, an illustration of the truth of the text in the case of one who was, we have good reason to believe, 'a new creature in Christ Jesus.' A nation deplores the sudden and untimely demise of the late Duke of Albany—our own Prince Leopold—who met his fate in a foreign land, away from home and friends. On such an occasion—the close and epitome of a young and promising life—we love to think not so much of his rank, not of his title, not of his high position (for Death is the great leveller, and mocks at society's conventional distinctions); but of the beautiful character which the grace of God gave him, and the influence for good which it, enabled him to exercise. The Spirit of God made him, a nobleman in every sense of the word—one of Heaven's aristocracy. His was one of those rare cases in which the body proved unequal to the requirements of the soul, in which the spiritual transcended the material, so as to thin and make transparent the walls of clay. His cultured mind and refined tastes, inherited from his accomplished father, whom, in many respects he closely resembled, combined with his feeble constitution in making him a man of letters rather than a man of arms; and led him devote himself to the special study of art and science in which he excelled, and which, by his influence, he greatly stimulated. His high sense of the responsibilities of his exalted position; the encouragement he gave to the cultivation of all that was true, beautiful, and good; the noble and burning words which he uttered on many recent public occasions, will long be embalmed in a nation's memory. His gentleness and modesty, his honour, truth, purity, and love—his high sense of public duty as well as private virtue—his efforts after social reform, his sympathy with good in its every phase, were all, we believe, evidences of a new heart, fruits of It life conducted under the influence of Divine principle and with a Divine purpose. 'By their fruits ye shall know them.' Let us mingle our sympathies with those of the loyal, British heart, wherever it heats, for the young and widowed Princess, with the fatherless babe, who survives the dissolution of this marriage bond, whose orange blossoms have, so soon and suddenly been turned into cypress. But let us remember Naomi as well as Ruth—the royal and widowed parent, thrice-bereaved as a wife and a mother, who, while her former heart-wounds were still bleeding, has, by an unexpected stroke, been bereft of her Benjamin. 'Call me not Naomi; call me Mara; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me.' We commend all the royal mourners, whose position gives them no exemption from bereavement, and no immunity from sorrow, to the sympathy and succour of the Prince of Peace, who comes to bind up the broken-hearted, and to comfort all that mourn. 'A. short life!' may be their and our sad soliloquy; but in this respect, not unlike the ideal life—the finished Life of 33 years. It has been spent in the fierce light that beats around a throne; and is, therefore, likely, in so far as it was good and true, to exercise a wide influence, especially over young men. 'We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; in feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.' 'He asked life of thee, end thou gavest it him, even length of days for ever and ever'." The other Presbyterian ministers in Newton-Stewart also made allusion to the melancholy event.