22 LIFE-WORK

everything good, would have adorned any rank or condition of life. What joyful times we had together over the \Vord, and were not the Christian friends who often visited them in their last sickness, de- lighted to tell me of the proofs they gave of their firm, unshaken trust in the Lord Jesus. And then I think of little HarrietChristmas (daughter of poor Ben, and his excellent, amiable Christian wife,) whose remarkable death and angelic faith Rev. Mr. Dimock of. Truro, her minister, described so beautifully in the C/rr/‘rtz'mz [Herr- mger at the time. And Newel also, her eldest brother, who lingered in peace and hope for months, and died in Yarmouth some years ago, of whom from his mother and others I heard a most satisfac- tory account. And I must not pass over another Joe Glode who closed his career in Kentville a year or two ago. Yes, and there had been another Joe, Joe Michael, who will be remembered pos- sibly, as having been sick all one winter near Upper Dyke Village, who, with very little help had learned to read those wonderful books, so dreaded by the agents of Romanism, and the contents of which had cheered him as he walked through the dark valley, some twenty years ago. Nor may I forget to mention John Paul, whose happy death inspired me at the time not only to continue in my work, but to write the verses on the ” Dying Indian’s Dream,” for which I have received so many thanks.

These, and they are not all, of those who have gone, and who in life and death have cheered the heart of the writer, amidst all the " discouraging history of the Micmac Mission.” And perhaps I could name as many or more among the living were it proper to do so, of whom I have good hope. The Lord be praised!

And, names and numbers aside, can we doubt that the Word of God may have been blessed to many souls of whom we know nothing. It was only by an apparent accident that I learned Joe Michael could read the Scriptures. “ How did you learn?” I inquired of him. “ Ben Brooks taught me the sounds of the letters, and I drilled out the rest by myself,” he replied. I saw him but a few times. One day I passed the encampment, and all the rest were away, and he was alone. As I went up to his Wigwam I stood and listened with great interest for a while before I went in. He was reading