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in honour of the idol. In the day-time stones are not so often thrown at us as they used to be; but in the evenings, when opening the chapel on the main street, we have been much annoyed by a rabble of boys and drunken men; the latter are very common here; one assistant was roughly handled, and another was twice severely hurt by stones (at night). Vile names and reproaches are of course abundantly cast at us, often recalling those lines so much quoted by Henry Martin :
If on my head for Thy dear name
Shame and reproaches be,
If Thou remember me.' And with all thankfulness we would say, He does seem to remeinber us; the number of inquirers still increases. O for showers like those falling in Ireland and the west of Scotland! Let the young converts remember Amoy and its surrounding stations."
The Reporter will only add, let the readers of the Juvenile Messenger remember them too. And especially let them remember that their own missiouaries, Mr. and Mrs. Swanson, will be arriving at Amoy about this time, for whom they are specially bound to pray.
Question. May 12 Ananias and 102.-Psa. 139. 1-4. | Acts 5, 1-11.
Sapphira. 19 Apostles impri- 103.-Psa. 2. 2–4. Acts 5. 17-29.
soned. 26 Stephen Stoned. 104.-Rev.7. 14. Acts 7. 54-60. June 2 Ethiopian Eu. 105.—John 5. 39. Acts 8. 26–40.
SCARCELY six months have elapsed since a great man passed from amongst us. As his corpse was borne on to its resting place in the noble abbey at Westminster, noblemen and gentlemen, statesmen, literary men, and the eager crowd that had assembled at his funeral, each vied with the other to do honour to the poor remains of the once great man. His death came upon us suddenly, and JUNE, 1860.
cast a shadow over our Christmas rejoicings. His memory still lingers with us. This mau was Thomas Babington Macaulay, poet, statesman, orator, and historian; and of him we now purpose to give a brief sketch.
Lord Macaulay entered this world almost with the new century. His birth took place on the 25th of October, 1800. He was destined to run, in life, but little more than half the century with which he was born, but to leave behind him a name that shall live when the “ dust of ages" has made the nineteenth century itself but a thing of the past. Macaulay, as a boy, showed signs of vivacity and genius. He was in constant request with his schoolmates as a teller of stories. Upon leaving school he was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge ; and here he first distinguished himself as a poet. In his first year at college he took the Chancellor's medal for a poem on Pompeii ; and the next year but one, the same Chancel. lor's medal for a second poem, entitled “Evening.” These poems were shortly afterwards published, and formed his first contribution to literature.
But, although he reaped his first public honours from his poetical effusions, it was not as a poet that Macaulay was to gain his greatest fame. His next distinction was gained in a field much wider, and in which he has excelled more. In 1825, after a few minor contributions to a small publication, he sent an essay on Milton to the Edinburgh Review, which astonished everybody by its grand and magnificent colouring, and stamped its author -a young man of twenty-five-one of the first writers of the day.
From this time Macaulay's rise was rapid and unchecked. He obtained a seat in Parliament, distinguished himself as a statesman and orator, and soon became one
of the most popular men in England, He was despatched to India as legal adviser to the Supreme Court of Calcutta ; and although in his legal capacity he was not so successful as his friends could have wished, his visit to that land of the sun was not entirely thrown away. He produced while there two of his finest essays; and his appointment gained him an independence that enabled him, on his return, to proceed with his History unfettered. His History of England Macaulay sought to make his crowning work. His death has left it a fragment, but that fragment is a grand one. Like some noble picture left by its artist unfinished, it grieves one, when thinking what it might have been if completed, to see it thus rudely broken off. The volumes of the History that are published have met with a success such as has never before been placed upon record. On the publication of the last two volumes, Messrs. Longman, the publishers, passed over the counter, in one day, 25,000 copies, weighing 56 tons; and, it is said that they have handed Macaulay, at one time, a cheque for no less a sum than £20,000.
Such is a short sketch of the life of a man who has earned for himself a world-wide reputation. What are the lessons we, in our position of admirers and emulators, may learn from it? The first, undoubtedly, is perseverance; the second, benevolence and charity. Lord Macaulay was endowed with superior talents-talents far above those which fall to the lot of most men—but without perseverance these talents might have lain dormant, and the name of Macaulay been known only amongst his friends and acquaintances as a pleasant and intelligent companion. With it his name has been carried to every quarter of the globe, and he has earned a never-dying
fame. With respect to the second lesson of his life, we will only mention one fact. Macaulay had not the elevating influence of true heartfelt Christianity; but he had, nevertheless, a large and open heart. His literary labours were reaping him a rich harvest, and his personal expenses were few. It is said that he gave away, every year, nearly the half of his entire income.
We have heard—and we hope it is true—that, during the latter days of his life, he was led in humility to the Saviour, and died in the faith of the gospel.
Macaulay has left us many noble lessons ; let us try to learn them ; and if we do not possess the natural abilities that he had, nor shine as he shone, yet, if we are devoted servants of the Lord Jesus, we shall have a glory that will outlive all the glories and honours of earth ; for “they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and ever."
Lives of great men all remind us
We may make our lives sublime,
Footprints on the sands of time :
Footprints that, perchance, apother
Sailing o'er life's dreary main-
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be
and doing, With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.