in order to separate and silence the disputants.  His report of these occurrences went in due time to the Chairman of the Company, who excused himself for an arrangement which had turned out so ill by telling a story of a servant who, having to carry a number of gamecocks from one place to another, tied them up in the same bag, and found on arriving at his journey’s end that they had spent their time in tearing each other to pieces.  When his master called him to account for his stupidity he replied:  “Sir, as they were all your cocks, I thought they would be all on one side.”

Things did not go much more smoothly on shore.  Mr. Macaulay’s official correspondence gives a curious picture of his difficulties in the character of Minister of Public Worship in a black community.  “The Baptists under David George are decent and orderly, but there is observable in them a great neglect of family worship, and sometimes an unfairness in their dealings.  To Lady Huntingdon’s Methodists, as a body, may with great justice be addressed the first verse of the third chapter of the Revelation.  The lives of many of them are very disorderly, and rank antinomianism prevails among them.”  But his sense of religion and decency was most sorely tried by Moses Wilkinson, a so-called Wesleyan Methodist, whose congregation, not a very respectable one to begin with, had recently been swollen by a Revival which had been accompanied by circumstances the reverse of edifying. [Lord Macaulay had in his youth heard too much about negro preachers, and negro administrators, to permit him to entertain any very enthusiastic anticipations with regard to the future of the African race.  He writes in his journal for July 8 1858:  “Motley called.  I like him much.  We agree wonderfully well about slavery, and it is not often that I meet any person with whom I agree on that subject.  For I hate slavery from the bottom of my soul; and yet I am made sick by the cant and the silly mock reasons of the Abolitionists.  The nigger driver and the negrophile are two odious things to me.  I must make Lady Macbeth’s reservation:  ’Had he not resembled—­,’”] The Governor must have looked back with regret to that period in the history of the colony when he was underhanded in the clerical department.

But his interest in the negro could bear ruder shocks than an occasional outburst of eccentric fanaticism.  He liked his work, because he liked those for whom he was working.  “Poor people,” he writes, “one cannot help loving them.  With all their trying humours, they have a warmth of affection which is really irresistible.”  For their sake he endured all the risk and worry inseparable from a long engagement kept by the lady among disapproving friends, and by the gentleman at Sierra Leone.  He stayed till the settlement had begun to thrive, and the Company had almost begun to pay; and until the Home Government had given marked tokens of favour and protection, which some years later developed into