By the Rev. A. R. Buckland, M.A., Morning Preacher at the Foundling Hospital.

The month of January brings around one anniversary which, of late, has been much in the minds of the British people. On January 26th, 1885, General Gordon was slain at Khartoum. Born at Woolwich in 1833, he had seen an extraordinary variety of service when he was sent to withdraw the garrisons shut up in the Soudan. It is needless to recall the circumstances of his gallant resistance in Khartoum, and of the noble valour shown in the unsuccessful endeavour to relieve him. The annals of the Empire can present to us men whose careers have been no less varied than that of Gordon, and soldiers whose piety has been as deep. Yet few of them have ever touched the public imagination as did the man who faced his death at Khartoum fourteen years ago.

The anniversaries of December brought together two rival statesmen of the first rank; so do the anniversaries of this present month. On January 24th, 1749, Charles James Fox was born. On January 23rd, 1806, his rival, William Pitt, died. They passed away within a few months of each other, and lie together in Westminster Abbey, hard by the scene of their many struggles.

To the month of January belongs Francis Bacon, who was born on the 22nd. Posterity finds it an unpleasant task to join in the same thoughts the man who deserted his friends in the hour of their need, and used the highest office for the base ends of personal and financial aggrandisement, and the man who wrote the "Advancement of Learning" and the "Novum Organum." But Francis Bacon is not the only person whose practice has not always squared with the principles he taught to others. He died at Highgate in 1626.

To the same month belongs another philosopher, George Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne. Born in 1685, he is remembered mainly for the system of philosophy associated with his name, which treats the exterior material world as existing only in the mind. Few now think of him as one of the first to feel deeply interested in the spiritual necessities of the heathen. He was the originator of a project for converting the savages of America through the agency of a college to be established at Bermuda.

"The Bible only is the religion of Protestants." The author of this oft-quoted and often misinterpreted saying was William Chillingworth, who died on January 30th, 1644. The sentence comes from his chief work, "The Religion of Protestants a Safe Way to Salvation." Chillingworth, who was born in 1602, and educated at Oxford, fell under the influence of Fisher, Laud's great opponent in the controversy with Rome, and was received into the Roman Church. But his mind was soon unsettled again, and Laud, his godfather, brought him back once more to the Church of England. He returned to Oxford, and gave himself to the defence of Protestantism. Chillingworth was a devoted Royalist, and saw service on the King's side in the Civil War. He died at Chichester, and was buried in the cathedral.

A contemporary of Chillingworth, born on January 25th, 1627, deserves also to be remembered in this place. Robert Boyle was the son of the great Earl of Cork, a conspicuous figure in the Stuart times. Educated at Eton, he settled down at Stalbridge in Dorsetshire to the study of natural philosophy. He found a place amongst the chief men of science of his day, and became one of the originators of the Royal Society. His foundation of the Boyle Lectures "for proving the Christian religion against Atheists, Deists, Pagans, Jews, and Mohammedans," was a witness, no doubt, to the mental struggles through which he himself had passed. He was, however, an active layman, full of good works, and one of the early friends of foreign missions. Boyle died in 1691, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

On the thirteenth of the month, in the year 1838, died Lord Chancellor Eldon. He was one of a family of sixteen, the son of a Newcastle coal-fitter. He also might have been a coal-fitter, but his elder brother was at Oxford, on the way to becoming Lord Stowell. To him John Scott was sent, and the younger son, like the elder, used his Oxford chances well. He made a runaway marriage, and at one time seemed likely to take holy orders; but, helped by their parents, the young couple came to London. John Scott, after some waiting, made his mark in the Court of Chancery, and then went steadily on to the Woolsack. In politics, an unbending Tory, he distrusted all reform. But he was a good lawyer, though harassed by a capacity for doubting and the love of an "if."

To the month of January belongs the establishment of the Hospital Sunday Fund. From the year 1869 to the year 1872 the late Dr. James Wakley, editor of the Lancet, urged the establishment of such a fund; but it was not until January 16th, 1873, that the meeting which gave birth to the movement was held in the Mansion House. Sir Sidney Waterlow was Lord Mayor that year, and he became the first treasurer and president of the fund.

There are several anniversaries in the month of January which have a peculiar interest for the supporters of foreign missions. On January 16th, 1736, the Rev. John Wesley was appointed by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel a missionary for Georgia. On January 9th, 1752, the Rev. T. Thompson, the first missionary sent to West Africa, landed at Fort Gambia. On January 1st, 1861, the heroic Bishop C. F. Mackenzie was consecrated in the cathedral at Capetown, the first bishop for Central Africa. There is no more pathetic story in the history of foreign missions than the account of his short episcopate. He was the first bishop consecrated in the Colonies for a region outside the limits of the British Empire.