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WHEN Luke Scott lay dying, he said: 'Mine has been a poor life, not what I intended it should be; but I have carried the heavy cross of broken health since I was in India.' A sense of failure rested upon him; the dreams of his youth seemed to shame the facts of his manhood, and for a while sadness shadowed his heart. Thus, chastened in spirit, he went down to the veiled portal, and passing through, we believe, found that a higher verdict awaited him. Be it ours to put on record a few facts of this broken life, pondering, as we do so, the deep sentence: Heaven is a place made for those who have failed in this world.'

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LUKE SCOTT was born at South Shields on the 9th of April, 1837. He had all the advantages which arise from a godly parentage and training. He also attended the Sunday-school, and there impressions were made on his mind which were never erased. One teacher especially influenced him. He was a Waterloo veteran, who had lost an arm in the great fight. He was 'a stern man, every inch a soldier, a true follower of the Iron Duke in the school as he had been in the field; yet a worthy man-severe, but just.' The favourite theme of this doughty warrior was the doom of Belshazzar. Raising his eloquent left arm, and pointing with his finger, he would talk about the handwriting on the wall until it seemed to the terrified listeners that the mystic letters blazed forth, that the hour of judgment had come, that they, too, were weighed in the balances, and found wanting.' Some short and simple prayers which Luke learned at the same school also deeply affected him, and for a considerable period formed the substance of his private devotions.

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When he was eleven years of age, he heard the late Rev. Joseph Mortimer preach, and a hand of arrest was laid upon him, from which he did not free himself for a long time. It was not, however, until he reached the age of seventeen that the decisive change of heart took place. About that time a companion of his (now the Rev. T. W. S. Jones, of Naples) was converted. This companion, developing at once the instincts of a missionary, soon came in contact with young Scott, and persuaded him to begin to work as a teacher in the Sabbath-school. On the very first Sunday afternoon as he entered the room this question flashed through his mind: Why are you come to teach children the way to heaven when you yourself are going on the road to hell as fast as you can?' From that moment he became in

tensely miserable, and his misery increased as he commenced to meet in Class. At last his burden became so heavy that it could be no longer endured; so, one evening, in the quietness of his chamber, the power of Christ to save from sin was tested. Realizing a clear sense of pardon, he was made 'so unutterably happy that he could not sleep.' From that hour he was Christ's man. He began to cultivate his mind, and to work with energy amongst the children. After three years he became the superintendent of the school. By this training he acquired the remarkable aptitude he possessed for arresting the attention and informing the minds of the young.

In process of time he was convinced that it was his duty to preach, and although he struggled against the conviction, he was compelled to yield. His first sermon was delivered in a house at Harton Colliery, in the South Shields Circuit, his text being: 'Prepare to meet thy God.' The Lord sealed his commission by giving him a soul for his hire, and so his resolution became fixed. It was soon evident to the Church that he was intended for a wider sphere, and in the year 1860 he presented himself as a candidate for the ministry, was accepted for the foreign work, and sent for training to Richmond. The two years spent in the Institution served to form almost the pleasantest group of memories in his mind. He took an intense interest in all his fellow-students; an interest which increased, as in after years he followed their career, keeping faithful record of their more public actions, and loving to beguile a long journey over Yorkshire roads and lanes with recitals of their adventures and successes. Very touching are the jottings which he made against the names of some of the men, telling of life's changes and the busy hand of the relentless reaper. The term of his Institution life was only too quickly reached.

On Monday, January 5th, 1863, Mr. Scott stepped on board the Golden Fleece, bound from London to Madras. Very early the next morning the ship steamed out of the Thames. Mr. Scott was accompanied by the Revs. John Stephenson (B), John Greenwood, Thomas Peers and Henry Little. Frequent services were conducted by these young Missionaries, of which it is hoped that fruit will be gathered by the Lord of the harvest. One scene of the voyage especially impressed itself on Mr. Scott's mind. He thus describes it: January 27th.-This day has added another event to the store of never-to-be-forgotten things. Even on the wide Atlantic, Death has his reign; he has taken away one of our number. The deceased was a military surgeon, and one of a staff (consisting of nine) proceeding from Aldershot to India. He was slightly indisposed when we left England, his illness increased daily, and about a fortnight ago turned to typhoid fever. Every effort was made, both by the ship's surgeon and those of the staff to which he belonged, to save his life, but in vain. He expired this afternoon. To prevent the fever spreading, the captain ordered his burial to take place this evening, and we were called to witness a funeral at sea. O! it was a solemn season. The ocean was almost without a ripple, the sky cloudless, the air still and calm, not even a breath of wind; while the moon shed upon us a

deathly pale light. Precisely at the hour fixed, the body was borne to the ship's side on a portion of the main-hatchway covering, with the Union-jack thrown over it for a pall, and followed by most of the sailors. We (the passengers) gathered round the corpse as it was placed half over the side of the vessel. In this position it lay for about five minutes while one of the surgeons read the Roman Catholic Burial Service (the deceased died in that religion). At the conclusion of the reading, one end of the board was raised. We listened in deep silence, and a splash told us all that the deep had received the dead.

"One sudden plunge, and all was o'er,

The sea rolled on as it rolled before."'

On the 23rd of February the Golden Fleece cast anchor in Table Bay; and, in a short time, the Rev. Samuel Hardey came on board and gave the little missionary band a hearty greeting. Gladly they accompanied him on shore. The ship being delayed, a few days were spent in congenial society at Cape Town. Mr. Scott and his fellow-travellers also conducted several services. At last they proceeded on their voyage, catching sight of Adam's Peak, Ceylon, on the 1st of April, and reaching Madras Roads two days later. There they were most kindly received by one of the Missionaries in charge. On the following Sunday morning Mr. Scott preached in the Black Town Chapel.

Mr. Scott expected to go direct to Ceylon, to which island he had been appointed; but a report reached him that the steamer Pearl had become a wreck; so he had to proceed to Negapatam, and thence, by native vessel, to Ceylon. He embarked on board a dhoney on the 20th of April en route for Jaffna. What is a dhoney? It is a craft, 'sharp at both ends, like a lifeboat or a coal barge'; the deck is not flat, but slants like the roof of a house, and is made of leaves, so that the tout ensemble reminds the pensive spectator of the Noah's ark with which he sported in childhood's happy hour. However, the dhoney has a mast which carries a single sail, thereby differing from the vessel which once bore the fortunes of the world. Mr. Scott climbed valiantly up the sloping deck, and enquired where he should go. Down there,' said the sailor, pointing to a large hole like an unglazed sky-light. Down through this opening Mr. Scott went into the hold, and soon was encompassed by Stygian darkness. Under his feet was a heap of wet sand, the ship's ballast; by his side his doleful brother-voyager, and around him boxes, rice, fruit and fowls. He sat down on his box sickened with illodours, when suddenly he was roused to thoughtfulness by a smart rap on the face administered by one of the flying cockroaches of which the hold was full. Unable to bear this any longer he went up on deck, in order that he might breathe 'the spicy breezes' that 'blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle.' Just as the sun was setting, at the close of a beautiful day, the sailors pulled up the stone anchor, hoisted up the mainsail, and the dhoney got under weigh.

'But before long,' Mr. Scott says, 'the scene changed; the heavens grew dark with clouds as well as night, the wind fell, and we had the calm

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