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declining painter during the two years of his life that remained. After his death she adopted his children as her own, and lived to see Lewis Smith an accomplished, and, what is better, a truly pious artist.
THE MISSIONARY'S GRAVE.
“She was interred in a retired spot, in the burying-ground in Port Louis, under the shade of an evergreen."
LIFE AND WRITINGS OF H. NEWELL.
SHE sleeps beneath the green tree's lonely shade! Far from the land, the home, the friends she
She left them all thro' distant climes to rove.
She sleeps beneath the green tree's lonely shade!
But few of all to her fond heart so dear, Have gazed upon the spot, where she is laid,
Or dropped upon her tomb, affection's tear. Yet angels watch around the lowly grave, Her sleeping dust, the Lord, himself, shall save.
She sleeps beneath the green tree's lonely shade! And from that sea-washed isle, a voice hath
come, That, stealing o'er the soul, has often made The young and lovely turn from friends and
home, To tread the path, in which she early trod, Bearing, to heathen lands, the word of God.
OR THE TRACT DISTRIBUTOR'S FIDELITY REWARDED.
In the place of my residence there is an Episcopalian, Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian and Dutch Reformed churches, and Sunday-schools, and other benevolent associations, were well sustained among us; but it is only for the last two years that we have engaged in the useful and delightful occupation of distributing tracts. The pastor of the church to which I belonged, became convinced that the system of Christian visitation and personal appeals to the thoughtless and wayward, was in very close accordance with the precepts and practices of our Saviour and his apostles, and took measures to introduce it. Each of the congregations furnished a share of labourers for this good work, and being myself of the number selected, I was most happy to have this opportunity for doing good.
The first family I visited was that of Mrs. White, a widow. I knocked at the door of her humble dwelling, which was opened by a tall, slender woman, about fifty years of age. She desired me to walk in, and, dusting a chair with her apron, silently offered me a seat.
After sitting a few moments and engaging in general conversation, I said to her, “I called on you this morning, Mrs. White, to inquire if would like to receive a little book, like this, once a month?” At the same time offering her a tract.
She took it, looked at it, and handing it back to me, said, “I am a poor widow, ma'am, and have to earn my own support, so that I do not feel able to pay much money for learning.”
I took it back, saying, “ I do not wish you to pay for it, my good woman, but to receive it as a gift.” I then explained to her something of the nature and object of the visit, adding, " These little books contain the important truths taught in the Scriptures, and the great object is to induce all who read them to become Christians. I suppose you have a Bible ?"
“ Oh yes, ma'am,” said the woman, “I have as beautiful a Bible as any one need wish to have.” At the same time rising and taking out of a chest a large folio Bible, carefully covered with green baize. “It is one,” said she, “ that my poor
husband bought two years before his death, and he