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CHAINED BIBLE, HOUR-GLASS STAND, AND CASE FOR HOMILY BOOKS, IN UPTON MAYNER CHURCH, NEAR SHREWSBURY.

UNTIL very recently this part of England has been comparatively but little changed by the introduction of railways and large manufactures, the people in consequence retain much of that primitive manner and feeling which we associate with times less bustling than the present. Many old English customs are here retained, and objects of curious antiquity have been left in various places untouched, except by the slow, yet sure hand of time.

The church of Upton Mayner is close to the railway station of that name, on the line lately made from Stafford to Shrewsbury, and having lately a short time to wait at this place, we took the opportunity of visiting the pleasant village-the school and church close by-and in the latter had the great pleasure of finding the interesting relics shown in the engraving. During many and long antiquarian rambles in London and elsewhere, we have occasionally met with the hour-glass stands, and, in a few instances, the hour-glass still remaining on the pulpits. In the church of St. Alban's, Wood-street, City, the hour-glass, and stand of brass-work of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, is still preserved; a few of the chained Bibles are also to be met with, (at Oxford, Windsor, and elsewhere), but in no other instance than the present have we found the fittings of the pulpit of the olden time left in one place in their original position.

It is curious at the present day to look back to the "good old times," as they are called, of which these curious matters are indications. Even in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, clocks and watches were so scarce that the former were not even generally used in the churches, while the latter were so rare and expensive, that they only came into the hands of royalty, and persons of rank and great wealth.

In the reign of Queen Victoria almost every working man by industry and sobriety may become possessed of a clock for the use of his family, and a watch for himself.

Our space will not allow us at present to enquire into the antiquity of sun-dials, hour-glasses, and other means of measuring time in former days. The hour-glass, as it is called, was for several centuries in general use, not only in the church, but the household; the hour-glass is now, however, superseded by modern improvements to almost as great an extent as is the old-fashioned steel and flint tinder-box by the lucifer match.

The chained Bible is also an indication of great and beneficial change. Bibles and books of knowledge, before the introduction of printing, were in money value worth as much as a small estate; and even for long after the time of Caxton they did not become so cheap as to be generally distributed. In certain favoured spots, such as old St. Pauls, &c., the Bible, after the Reformation, was left as shown in the engraving for general use. In country churches, like the Upton Mayner-street, the liberality and benevolence of the patron of the place, and owner of the surrounding land, would occasionally place this valued means of instruction for the use of his parishioners; and many must have been the striking pictures in these days, formed by groups composed of old and young who had assembled to hear some

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gifted neighbour read from this sacred Book the words of truth.

We would treasure such a relic as this chained Bible as an object which by contrast ought to create thankfulness for the times in which we live, when the Bible is within the reach of every cottager, and books of instruction and amusement are every day becoming more and more accessible to the multitude..

THE CONTENTS OF THE HOLY BIBLE.

A Nation must be truly blessed if it were governed by no other laws than those of this blessed Book.

It is so complete a System, that nothing can be added to it or taken from it.

It contains every thing needful to be known and done.

It affords a copy for a king (Deut. xvii. 18,) and a rule for a subject.

It gives instruction and counsel to a senate, authority and direction for a magistrate.

It cautions a witness, and requires an impartial verdict of a jury.
It furnishes the judge with his sentence.

It sets the husband as lord of the household, the wife as mistress of the table.

It tells him how to rule, and her how to manage.

It entails honour to parents, and enjoins obedience to children.

It prescribes limits to the sway of the sovereign, the rule of the ruler. It checks the authority of the master, commands the subjects to honour, and the servants to obey.

It promises the blessing and protection of its Author to all who walk by

its rules.

It gives directions for weddings, and for burials.

It promises food and raiment, and limits the use of both.

It points out to the departing husband and father a faithful and everlasting Guardian.

It tells him with whom to leave his fatherless children, and in whom his widow is to trust. Jer. xlix. 11.

It promises a Father to the former, and a Husband to the latter.

It teaches a man how to set his house in order, and how to make his will. It appoints a dowry for the wife, entails the right of the first born, and

shows how the younger branches shall be left.

It defends the rights of all, and reveals vengeance to every defrauder, overreacher, or oppressor.

It is the first Book, the best Book, and the oldest Book in all the world.

It contains the choicest matters, and the best instruction.

It affords the greatest pleasure and satisfaction that ever was revealed. It contains the best of laws, and the profoundest mysterics that ever were penned.

It brings the best tidings, and affords the greatest comfort to the enquiring and disconsolate.

It exhibits life and immortality from eternity, and shows the way to glory.

It is a brief recital of all that is past, and a certain prediction of all that is to come.

It settles all matters in debate.

It resolves all doubts, and cases the mind and conscience of all scruples.

It reveals the only LIVING and TRUE GOD, and shows the way to HIM.

It sets aside all other gods, and describes the vanity of them and of all that trust in them.

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It is a Book of Laws to show the right and wrong.

It is a Book of Wisdom, that condemns all folly and makes the foolish wise.

It is a Book of Truth, that detects all

errors.

It is a Book of Life, that shows the way from everlasting death.

It is the most compendious book in all the world.

It is the most ancient and entertaining istory that ever was published.

It contains the most ancient antiquities. strange events, and wonderful oc.

currences.

It points out the most heroic deeds and unparalleled wars.

ribes the celestial, terrestial, and fernal worlds.

lains the origin of the Angelic riads of human tribes and devillegions.

instruct the most accomplished echanic, and the profoundest artist. teach the best rhetorician, and ercise every power of the most lful arithmetician. Rev. xiii. 18. puzzle the wisest anatomist, and ercise the nicest critic.

ects the vain philosopher, and hfutes the wisest astronomer. ses the subtle sophist, and drives iners mad.

complete code of laws, a perfect dy of Divinity, an unequalled rrative.

Book of Lives.
Book of Travels.

Book of Voyages.

e best Covenant that ever was eed on, the best deed that ever s sealed.

he best Evidence that ever was duced, the best Will that ever s made.

he best Testament that ever was ned.

visdom to understand it, to be orant of it is to be awfully titute!!!

king's best copy, and the magis. te's best rule.

e housewife's best guide, and the rant's best directory.

young man's best companion. school boy's spelling book.

> learned man's masterpiece. ains a choice grammar for a ice, and a profound mystery for ge.

ignorant man's dictionary, and wise man's directory.

Is knowledge of witty inventions the humourous, and dark sayings the grave, and is its own interter.

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rages the wise, the warrior, the swift, and the overcomer. ses an eternal reward to the excellent, the conqueror, the winner, the prevalent.

at which crowns all is, that the Author is without partiality, and out hypocrisy, "In whom is no variableness, neither shadow-of ing.'

MURDER DETECTED BY A FROLIC.

Rev. H. G. Keene, in his Persian Stories, gives the followrative on the authority of a credible eye-witnessessel, with many passengers on board, set sail from Bassorah ad. In the course of the voyage the sailors, as a frolic, an in irons whilst he lay asleep, and diverted themselves expense till they approached the capital. They then that they had carried the joke on far enough; but on proto loose the irons the key could not be found. After a d fruitless search, they sent for a blacksmith to undo the When the blacksmith came, he, doubting the prisoner's ce, refused to act without an order from the magistrate. gistrate having been applied to, sent one of his officials to e into the case, who said it was much too serious a matter to determine that his worship must decide. They thereset off in a body to the magistrate's house, accompanied man in irons. So strange a procession attracted great and a crowd soon assembled, every one curious to catch of the prisoner, and to know what was his offence. y one of the spectators sprung forward, seized the captive roat, and exclaimed, 'Here is the villain I have been lookthese two years, ever since he robbed and murdered my ther!' Nor would he quit his hold till they came before gistrate. Subsequently, the murder having been clearly the man who had been fettered in sport, at length in sad became a real prisoner of justice, was found guilty, con

demned to death, and actually executed for his crime, which, in a manner so extraordinary, was thus brought to light."

'Be sure your sin will find you out.'

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THE BOY THE FATHER OF THE MAN.

SOLOMON said, many centuries ago: "Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right."

Some people seem to think that children have no character at all: on the contrary, an observing eye sees in these young creatures the signs what they are likely to be for

When I see a boy in haste to spend every penny as soon as he gets it, I think it is a sign that he will be a spendthrift.

When I see a boy hoarding up his pennies, and unwilling to part with them for any good purpose. I think it a sign he will be a miser.

When I see boys and girls often quarrelling, I think it a sign that they will be violent and hateful men and women.

When I see a little boy willing to taste strong drink, I think it a sign that he will be a drunkard.

When I see a boy who never attends to the services of religion, I think it a sign that he will be a profane and profligate man.

When I see a child obedient to his parents, I think it a sign of great future blessing from his Heavenly Parent.

And though great changes sometimes take place in the character, yet as a general rule, these signs do not fai..

A LITTLE BOY AND HIS TRACT.

A LITTLE boy, belonging to a Sabbath-school in London, having occasion every Sunday to go through a certain court, observed a shop always open for the sale of goods. Having been taught the duty of sanctifying the Lord's day, he was grieved at its profanation, and for some time seriously considered whether it was possible for him to do anything to prevent it. At length he determined on leaving a tract, "On the Lord's Day," as he passed by. On the next Sabbath, coming the same way, he observed that the shop was shut up. He stopped, and pondered whether this could be the effect of the tract he had left. He ventured to knock gently at the door; when a woman within, thinking it was a customer, answered aloud, "You cannot have anything; we don't sell on the Sunday." The little boy still begged for admittance, encouraged by what he had heard, when the woman, recollecting the voice, opened the door, and said, "Come in, my dear little fellow: it was you who left the tract here last Sabbath against Sabbath-breaking, and it frightened me so, that I durst not keep my shop open any longer; and I am determined never to keep it open again on a Sabbath while I live."

WE ought to cherish and to exercise benevolence; and there is a pleasure in the consciousness of doing what we ought, but beside this moral sentiment, and beside the peculiar pleasure appended to benevolence as moral, there is a sensation in the merely physical affection of benevolence, and that sensation of itself is in the highest degree pleasurable.-DR. CHALMERS.

GOD. [The following sublime Ode to the Supreme Being is translated from the Russian. It was written by one of their distinguished poets, Derzhazin. This ode is said to have been translated into the Chinese and Tartar languages, written on silk, and suspended in the imperial palace at Pekin. The Emperor of Japan had it translated into Japanese, embroidered in gold, and hung up in the Temple of Jeddo. It is gratifying to learn that these nations have done themselves the honour to bestow those honours on this noble composition.]

O, thou Eternal One! whose presence bright
All space doth occupy-all motion guide;
Unchanged through Time's all-everlasting fight,
Thou only God: there is no God beside.
Being above all beings! Mighty One!

Whom none can comprehend, and none explore; Embracing all-supporting-ruling o'erBeing whom we call God-and know no more! In its sublime research, philosophy

May measure out the ocean deep-may count The sands, or the sun's rays-but God! for Thee There is no weight or measure; none can mount Up to thy mysteries; reason's brightest spark, Though kindled by thy light, in vain would try To trace thy counsels, infinite and dark;

And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high, Even like past moments in eternity. Thou, from primeval nothingness did call,

First chaos, then existence-Lord, on Thee Eternity had its foundation; all

Spring forth from Thee; all light, joy, harmony, Sole Origin-all life, all beauty, thine;

Thy word created all, and doth create; Thy splendour fills all space with rays divine; Thou art, and wert, and shall be! glorious! great! Life-giving, life-sustaining, potentate! Thy chains th' immeasured universe surround; Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath! Thou the beginning with the end hast bound, And beautifully mingled life and death! As sparks mount upwards from the fiery blaze, So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from Thee,

And as the spangles on the sunny rays, Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry Of Heaven's bright army glitters in thy praise. A million torches, lighted by thy hand,

Wander unwearied through the blue abyss; They own thy power, accomplish thy command, All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss. What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light? A glorious company of golden streams? Lamps of celestial ether burning bright?

Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams? But Thou to these art as the moon to night. Yes! as a drop of water in the sea,

All this magnificence in Thee is lost:What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee? What am I then? Heaven's unnumbered host, Though multiplied by myriads and array'd In all the glory of sublimest thought, Is but an atom in the balance weigh'd Against thy greatness-is a cypher brought Against infinity! What am I then?-nought. Nought-but the effluence of thy light divine, Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too! Yes, in my spirit doth Thy Spirit shine,

As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew. Nought-but I live, and on Hope's pinions fly Eager towards thy presence: for in Thee I live, and breathe, and dwell; I lift my eye Even to the throne of thy divinity; I am, O God, and surely Thou must be! Thou art directing, guiding all. Thou art! Direct my nnderstanding then to Thee; Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart; Though but an atom 'midst immensity, Still I am something fashioned by thy hand:

I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth, On the last verge of mortal being stand, Close to the realms where angels have their birth, Just on the bound'ries of the spirit land. The chain of being is complete in me; In me is matter's last gradation lost, And the next step is Spirit-Deity!

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I can command the lightning, and am dust! A monarch, and a slave; a worm, a god!

Whence came I here, and how? so marvellous! Constructed and conceived? unknown this clod— Lives surely through some higher energy: For from itself alone it could not be. Creator! Yes-thy wisdom and thy word Created me! Thou source of life and good! Thou Spirit of my spirit and my Lord; Thy light, thy love, in their bright plenitude Fill'd me with an immortal soul, to spring

O'er the abyss of death, and bade it wear The garments of eternal day, and wing

Its heavenly flight beyond this little sphere, Even to its source-to Thee-its author there. O thought ineffable! O visions blest! Though worthless are conceptions all of TheeYet shall thy shadow'd image fill our breast, And waft its homage to thy Deity. God! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar, Thus seek thy presence-being wise and good'Midst thy vast works, admire, obey, adore! And when the tongue is eloquent no more, The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.

WHERE SHALL I GO AT LAST? A HINDU of a thoughtful reflecting mind, but devoted to idolatry, lay on his death-bed. As he felt himself dying, and saw himself about to plunge into futurity, he cried out, "What will become of me?" "O," said a Brahmin who stood by, " you will inhabit another body." "And where," said he, "shall I go then?" "Into another." "And where then?" "Into another, and so on through thousands of millions." Darting across this whole period, as though it were but an instant, he cried, "Where shall I go then?" Paganism could not answer, and the man died agonizing under the inquiry, "Where shall I go then?" Christianity would have answered the momentous question.

"GOD MADE ME."

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What wonderful questions children often ask, and what equally wonderful answers do they sometimes give! What can be more touching than the following anecdote:-A mother, while dressing a very young child, said, in rather an impatient tone, "You are such a lump of a shape, it is impossible to make anything to fit you. The lips of the child quivered, and looking up it said, in a sorrowful tone, GOD MADE ME." The mother was rebuked, and the "little lump" was kissed a dozen times. "God made me. Had the wise men of the world pondered on a fitting answer to such a careless remark, for a century, they could not have found a better than this, which flowed naturally and spontaneously from the heart of this little child. "God made me, mother-it is not my fault that I am what you seem not to like-such a little lump. God made me." Blessings on thy innocent heart, sweet child-of such is the kingdom of Heaven.

THE LITTLE GIRL AND THE RAIN.

"Mother, it rains," said a little girl, who was looking out of the window. "I am sorry not to make a visit to Emma. She invited me twice before, but it rained; and now it is raining hard again."

"I hope you will not be unhappy, my dear," said her mother. "I think I noticed the tears upon your cheeks. I will not say it is a little thing, for the troubles of children seem great to them; but I trust you will be patient, and wait patiently for good weather."

"Mother, you have told me that God knows everything, and that he is always good. Then he must certainly know that there is but one Saturday afternoon in the week, and that this is all the time I have to play with my little friends. He must know that it has rained now these three holidays, when I wished so much to go abroad. And can he not make sunshine whenever he pleases?"

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"We cannot understand all the ways of God, my child; but the Bible tells us he is wise and good. Look out into your little garden, and see how happy the rosebuds are to catch the soft rain in their bosoms, and how the violets lift their sweet faces to meet it; and as the drop falls into the quiet stream, how it dimples with gladness and gratitude. The cattle will drink at the stream, and be refreshed. Should it be dried up they would be troubled; and were the green grass to grow brown and die, they would be troubled still more, and some of them might perish for want of food."

Then the good mother told her daughter of the sandy deserts in the East, and of the camel, that patiently bears thirst for many days; and how the fainting traveller watched for the raincloud, and blessed God when he found water; and she showed her the picture of the camel and of the caravan, and told her how they were sometimes buried under the sands of the desert. And she told her the story of the mother who wandered in the wilderness with her son, and when the water was spent in the bottle, she laid him under the shade to die, and went and prayed in her anguish to God. Then how an angel brought her water from heaven, and her son lived. She told her another story from the Bible, how there fell no rain in Israel for morc than three years, and the grass dried up, and the brooks wasted away; and how the cattle died, and how the great prophet prayed earnestly to God, and the skies sent their blessed rain, and the earth gave forth her fruit. Many other things the good mother said to her child to teach and entertain her. Then they sang together a sweet hymn or two, and the little girl was surprised to find the afternoon so swiftly spent, for the time passed pleasantly. So she thanked her kind mother for the stories she had told her, and the pictures she had shown her; and she smiled, and said, "What God pleases is best." The mother kissed her child, and said, "Carry this sweet spirit with you, my daughter, as long as you live; and you will have gathered more wisdom from the storm than from the sunshine."

INDIAN BOY AND THE BIBLE.

I found him dying, says a good missionary, of consumption, and in a state of the most awfu poverty and destitution, in a small birch-rina covered hut, and an old blanket over him. After recovering from my surprise, I said, "My poor boy, I am very sorry to see you in this state; had you let me know, you should not have been lying here." He replied, "It is very little I want now, and these poor people get it for me; but I should like something softer to lie upon, as my bones are very sore." I then asked him concerning the state of his mind, when he replied, that he was very happy; that Jesus Christ, the Lord of Glory, had died to save him; and that he had the most perfect confidence in Him. Observing a small Bible under the corner of his blanket, I said, "Jack, you have a friend there; I am glad to see that; I hope you find something good there." Weak as he was, he raised himself on his elbow, held it in his attenuated hand, while a smile played on his countenance, and slowly spoke in precisely the following words:-"This, sir, is my dear friend. You gave it me. For a long time I read it much, and often thought of what it told. Last year I went to see my sister at Lake Winnipeg, about two hundred miles off, where I remained about two months. When I was half-way back through the lake, I remembered that I had left my Bible behind me. I directly turned round, and was nine days by myself, tossing to and fro, before I could reach the house; but I found my friend, and determined not to part with it again, and ever since it has been near my breast, and I thought I should have buried it with me; but have thought since, I had better give it to you when I am gone, and it may do some one else good." He was often interrupted by a sepulchral cough, and sank down exhausted. I read and prayed, the hut hardly affording me room to be upright, even when kneeling.

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LOST, LOST, LOST. remember, a few years ago, says the Rev. G. Burder, in his sermon on e Value of the Soul," that a boy was sent upon some errand on a cold er's evening, was overtaken with a dful storm; when the snow fell so , and drifted in such a manner that missed his way, and continuing to der up and down for several hours, ready to perish. About midnight, a leman in the neighbourhood thought heard a sound, but he could not ine what it was; when, opening his low, he distinguished a human voice, great distance, pronouncing in a pis tone, "Lost! lost! lost!" Huity induced the gentleman to send in ch of the person from whom the e proceeded, when boy, at length, found and preserved. Happy for him. he perceived his danger, that he for help, and that his cry was d! So will it be for us, if, sensibles e value of our souls, and their danof perishing in hell, we now cry for y and help to that dear and gracious nd of sinners, that great and geneDeliverer, "who came to seek and, ve that which was lost." But if this eglected, the soul will be lost indeed; without remedy, lost for ever.

E IS RIGHT, AND I AM WRONG."

WELL," said a mother one day to little daughter, "I will resist no er. How can I bear to see my dear love and read the Scriptures, while er look into the Bible; to see her e and seek God, while I never pray; ee her going to the Lord's table e his death is nothing to me!"

h," said she to the minister, who

to inform her of her daughter's in

want with tracts? You cannot read a word of them." "True, but I have a use for them, nevertheless. Whenever one of your countrymen, or an Englishman, calls on me to trade, I put a tract in his way, and watch him. If he reads - soberly, and with interest, I infer that he will not cheat me; if he throws it aside with contempt, or with a profane oath, I have no more to do with him, as I cannot trust him."

on, wiping her eyes, "I know she is right, and I am wrong. I have her firm under reproach, patient under provocation, and cheerful her sufferings. When in her late illness, she was expecting to peace shone in her face.

at I was fit to die like I ought to have taught but really she is my er; I will however try e like her."

m that hour she prayed nest, that the God of hild would be her God, as soon seen walking her in the way everg.

I MALAY TEST
OF HONOUR.

NEW ENGLAND sea-
n, who visited "India
d the Ganges,' was
ced by a Malay mer-
- a man of considerable
rty, and asked if he
ny tracts to part with.
American, at a loss to
nt for such a singular
st from such a man,
ed,
"What do you

ER knew my mother's love,
prized her kiss so fond and warın;
uld recall one trace to prove
lovely was her angel form.
rheeded when she spoke,
kept her golden words in store;
It the precious chain that broke,
left me lonely on life's shore.
r knew her voice was sweet,
evening music, soft and mild;
hen I sat beside her feet,
fondly loved her youngest child.

LINES ON A ROBIN,

(Which built its nest, and reared five young ones, in the reading desk, immediately under the Bible and Prayer-book, in North Molton Church, May, 1840.)

BY THE REV. W. BURDETTS. SWEET Social bird! confiding in our care, Who here so oft frequent God's house of prayer;

Here, shelter'd from the hands of reckless

youth,

Thy nest was built beneath the Word of Truth.

Thy choice how wise! May all who wor

ship here

Now learn a lesson from thy fost'ring

care;

Now follow in the path which thou hast

trod,

And rear their young ones in the house of God:

Here train them in the way which they

should go,

That with increasing years their peace

may flow,

Till Heaven at last be their eternal rest, With Jesus and his saints for ever blest.

A WIFE AFTER BATTLE. THE battle-field makes terrible havoc of domestic sympathies and hopes. I once read of a devoted wife, who left her babes, and walked some forty miles to see her husband in the army. She arrived the night before a battle, and contrived, by a dex

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terous appeal to the sentinel's heart, to gain admission to her husband's tent. The hours sped swiftly away, and the dawn heard the signal for battle. She hurried from his fond embrace with many a tender kiss for his babes, but lingered near the scene, and watched from a neighbouring hill, every movement of the two armies, until the combat ceased, and all was quiet once more. The shades of night now hang in gloon! over that battle-ground, and forbid all search for the wounded, the dying, or the dead. Morn approaches: and with its earliest dawn, this faithful wife, with a throbbing heart, wanders over that field of slaughter, to see if the father of her babes has fallen. Alas! it is too true! There he is, all covered with gore. She sinks on his bosom in a swoon, and rises no more.

I only feel, I only know,

That deep within thy pitying breast, A stream of kindness used to flow, Unfailing for the sore distress'd. And while thine image mocks my sight, Thy voice eludes my listening ear, Thy pure example clear and bright, Stands forth to point my duties here. To bid me seek where'er I go, The low to raise, the lone to bless, Nor pass, regardless of their woe, The widow and the fatherless. MRS. ELLIS.

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LORD MACAULAY.

THOMAS Babington Macaulay, afterwards Lord Macaulay, was the son of a very worthy man, engaged in trade. He did not inherit greatnesshe achieved it. He was not born a lord; his elevation to the peerage was a recognition of his services to his country -the embellishment and improvement of its literature. He first saw the light at Rothley Temple, Leicestershire, in the year 1800. His mother, Sarah Mills, had been the favorite pupil of Mrs. Hannah More. Doubtless this was the reason why the great moralist manifested unusual interest in all that concerned little Tom, who was educated, for his first thirteen years at home; and, judging from results, his early train-. ing was most admirable and judicious. Before his thirteenth year, the little fellow was celebrated as a very apt student. One writer says: "From his birth he exhibited signs of superiority and genius and more especially of that power of memory which startled every one by its quickness, flexibility, and range." At that early date he would repeat and declaim the longest "Arabian Night," as fluently as Scheherazade herself. little later he would recite one of Scott's novels-story, characters, scenery-almost as

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well as though the book were in his hand. But these pleasures were not encouraged. The household books were the Bible, the "Pilgrim's Progress," and a few Cameronian divines. An eager and dramatic appetite found food for fancy in the allegories of Scripture, and even in the dry sectarian literature of Scottish controversy. He himself used to tell an amusing story of a nursery scene. For every one who came to his father's house he had a Biblical nickname, Moses, Holofernes, Melchisedeck, and the like. One visitor he called The Beast. His parents frowned at their precocious child, but Tom stuck to his point. Next time The Beast made a morning call, the boy ran to the window, which hung over the street, to turn back laughing, crowing with excitement and delight. "Look here, mother," cried he, "you see I am right. Look, look at the number of the Beast." Mrs. Macaulay glanced at the hackney-coach; and, behold its number was 666!

When the future historian hadattained his thirteenth year he was sent to the private academy conducted by the Rev. Mathew M. Preston, at Shelford, near Cambridge, prior to which he had commenced the practice of composition. He was also, at

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