and God has smiled upon their undertaking. But they need help. Let them have it.

Mrs. Loveless' heart was long set on this object, but there were many hindrances. Popular feeling was against it; the natives said, "It is not the Malabar custom to teach women to read:" and this was echoed from many voices respecting the country-born children, whom Mrs. Loveless wished first to elevate, for they were almost as degraded as the heathen sisters. At last the school began.

Mr. Loveless had laboured alone for nearly thirteen years, except now and then he was visited for a short time by a brother Missionary, who was passing through Madras to some other station; but, in 1815, the directors of the London Missionary Society appointed me to be Mr. Loveless' coadjutor in the work of the mission. In August, 1816, I arrived in company with five other Missionaries and their wives, appointed to other stations, and two young ladies, who were afterwards the wives of Missionaries. This was a great day with the friends at Madras, and none enjoyed it more than the affectionate and generoushearted friend about whom I am now writing.

The arrival of a fellow-labourer enabled Mr. and Mrs. Loveless to devote some part of their time to objects which they could not attempt when alone. The first was, this long-cherished wish of her heart, the Missionary free school for girls. She had the complete arrangement of it in all its branches, and a beautiful picture it was. Pious and benevolent ladies of the presidency often visited it, and took great delight in promoting its success. The schoolmistress was well suited to her station, and great good was done. The school was built, and supported by friends on the spot.

There were two things in connexion with the erection of this school which greatly delighted us, and I think there are few persons who can hear them without being delighted also. The first was respecting an officer high in rank in the army. When it was known in England that I had been appointed to Madras, a lady wrote to this officer announcing the fact, and requesting him to show me some tokens of his favour. This was placing the gallant officer in an awkward position. Religion and Missionaries were little thought of, at that time, by officers in general, and perhaps by none less than by him; but what could be done! A lady had requested it, and he was too gallant to refuse a lady any thing. But what could be done! "A Missionary," said he, "what shall I do with a Missionary? What! I will make him tipsy." He meant this no doubt all in good part, but he had forgotten that no drunkard can enter the king

dom of heaven. Oh! it would have been fatal to the Missionary if his intention had been realized. At last "a Europe ship" arrived in the Madras Roads, and the names of the passengers were quickly gazetted and sent through the country, and among them was the captain's missionary friend.

Kindness on the part of the officer soon followed, and I was invited to his house to meet a party of his brethren. I went; but, before I set off, Mr. Loveless warned me of the snare prepared for me. Most of the English residents in India fare sumptuously every day. Their hospitality is proverbial. A profusion of every thing that can gratify the appetite is found on their tables. The wine went round merrily, and I perceived my danger, and exclaimed, "Gentlemen, I am a stranger to the mode of living in India, and especially to the habits of military life, and you must not press me." "Oh yes," they replied, "you must drink." I said "Captain, I am your guest, and you must not press me; I claim your protection." "Very well," said he, “do as you please," and they pressed me no more.

In the course of conversation, I placed an intended female school before them, and said, "Gentlemen, we want help; now, as this is the first visit I have paid in India, I should like to make it memorable. I wish the military would give me something to purchase a foundation stone.' "To this appeal they answered by giving £15,* and then they sent me home,—not tipsy, but thankful to God for the opportunity I had enjoyed for placing the claims of India before so influential a party.

But it did not stop here. From this time the captain seemed to feel a new spirit within him. He purchased great numbers of pious books, elegantly bound, which he sent to all parts of the presidency. He also became a regular attendant at the Mission Chapel, and always brought brother officers with him. I recollect one Sunday evening we had no less than twenty-four officers present at the service. Some of these officers became truly religious, and all of them helped us in our missionary plans. How wonderfully does God overrule events for his own glory, and the good of his creatures; and how much more might we behold of his wondrous works, if we were diligent in improving our opportunities!

The other pleasing circumstance connected with Mrs. Loveless' girls' school, was through an opulent merchant, named John De Monte. He was a Portuguese by birth, and of the Roman Catholic faith, and one of Mr. and Mrs. Loveless'

Nearly 70 dollars.

warmest friends. As soon as the school case was made out, it was shown to Mr. De Monte, who said, " Mr. Loveless, get what you can from your own countrymen, and I will make up the deficiency;' and he gave us no less than eighty pounds sterling.* It is well to mark these interpositions of Divine Providence in the early stages of a Mission. It may strengthen the faith, and animate the hopes, of those who shall enter into our labours. This school being now completed, we shall consider Mrs. Loveless as

THE FRIEND OF MISSIONARIES.

Madras is the seat of government, and the chief sea-port; therefore it often happens that Missionaries from various societies touch there, and remain for a short season. Many of these beloved brethren have shared in the sisterly kindness of Mrs. Loveless. Her house was their home, and her well-spread table supplied them during their stay with plain, wholesome food. Newly arrived Missionaries, if not more in number than three or four, never needed to seek any accommodations while Mr. and Mrs. Loveless were at Madras. In this way they contributed largely to the missionary cause. By this means also many experienced their kindness; but none so greatly as myself. 1 lived two years in their family, and, through their generous treatment, I was able to support several native schools with my salary. A few of the last months that I was with them, my health failed; most of my friends thought I should die, and I attribute the preservation of my life, in a great degree, to her unremitting care. Yes; if any among the millions of Russia have been benefited by my labours, or if any good has been done by my tongue or my pen in Britain or America, I must ever connect it with the tender care of my good sister Loveless.

The last day that I saw her in India, she was superintending a missionary breakfast: :- a repast quite common now, but a rare sight under a tropical sun in the year 1819. On this occasion there were Church Missionaries, Baptists, Wesleyans, and those of the London Society. We had assembled to commence the erection of a missionary chapel at Persewankum, exactly of the same dimensions as that in the Black Town; and as it was the day on which I was to sail for England, and thus take leave of my beloved fellow-labourers, they requested me to lay the foundation-stone. A parchment-roll, containing the names of the Missionaries present, was sealed up in a bottle, and deposited in the stone, that future ages might read what we attempted to do for the evangelization of India.

* About 350 dollars.

The last four years that Mrs. Loveless remained at Madras were years of suffering; and her doctor urged a speedy return to England or America. To this she at last consented; and as soon as it was known in Madras that Mr. and Mrs. Loveless had determined to go, a handsome purse was presented to them by the congregation, containing about two thousand rupees!* This was a delightful token of the people's love; and the way in which it was done was of more value than the money. Some of their oldest friends accompanied them to the ship, and, on the 14th of January, 1824, they left the scene of their numerous and useful labours; and, in the month of June following, they arrived in the house of kind friends in London. Now we must look to her as

A PATTERN TO US ALL.

After Mrs. Loveless and her husband returned to England, they lived for some years at Herne Bay, and then removed to Canterbury. In both these places she pursued the same diligent course of active benevolence. At Canterbury, she attended the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Creswell, and became much attached to him and his people. There are four things connected with her residence in this city, which are well worthy the imitation of Christians in every city and in every country.

1. Her love to the rising generation led her, in advancing years, and amidst many infirmities, to become one of the superintendents of the Sunday School.

2. She never grieved her minister's heart by deserting her pew on the Lord's day. She loved her minister,and his Master,and the sanctuary; therefore she was never absent unless forced by necessity.

3. No cooking or unnecessary work was suffered to be done in her house on the sabbath. As her son was a surgeon, it was needful for some person to remain at home, but it was always a day of rest.

4. Though she had not the pecuniary means for doing what she had been accustomed to do at Madras, yet she frequently visited the sick, the aged and infirm, and administered to their temporal comfort, nor did she overlook their spiritual state.

As she drew nearer eternity, she found the advantage of the good old orthodox truths which she had learned from Dr. Mason. She gloried in the docrines of grace, and their genuine effects in a holy life. She said but little to strangers, but she used to speak with delighted feeling to her husband on the consolation. she enjoyed as a sinner, from the completeness of the work of Christ. She viewed the efficacy of the atonement, as arising out of the glory of his character, as God equal with the Father.

*One thousand dollars.

In this she trusted for eternal life. Hence she delighted to read those parts of the sacred Scriptures which speak so fully of the Divinity of Christ, and of the work of the Spirit in applying these truths to the heart. All her hopes of salvation centered here.

She was of a most retiring disposition, and could speak but little, from natural diffidence; yet, when she felt herself in the presence of friends in whom she possessed confidence, she would enter into such a strain of edifying experimental conversation, as evinced the deep feeling of piety she possessed, and the soundness of the principles on which they were founded. This was especially the case when among the poor of her own sex, and among children; then her embarrassment was removed, and she would reprove their sin, and direct them to Christ as the only Saviour, with peculiar tenderness and becoming faithfulness.

"One of the last books we ever read together," says her bereaved, but divinely supported husband, "was 'The Great Teacher.' She was peculiarly charmed with that book, because it exhibits, in almost every page, the glory of Christ shining forth in all its meridian splendour; not only on the mount of transfiguration, and at the grave of Lazarus, but in the most minute circumstances of his life; proving him to be indeed, • God manifest in the flesh.""

This accounts for the holy calm she enjoyed when heart and flesh were failing. Her soul was fixed on Christ. She overcame by the blood of the Lamb. To live was Christ, and to die was gain. She had been declining in health for some time previous to her last illness, but, about ten days before her decease, she had an attack which greatly weakened her; and which, though removed for a short period, returned again with increasing violence, and ended in death. She appeared to be quite sensible that she was laid upon her dying bed; but all was tranquil as a summer's evening. She enjoyed heaven before she was in it: all that she said was cheering. To the inquiry, "Do you want any thing?" she would answer "No." And again, "Are you happy?" "Yes. Peace, peace." How true is the saying of the poet,

"Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are!"

At one time she spoke with great energy of the goodness of God to herself and her family, and then repeated part of a Psalm, from the Scotch version, on the Divine goodness.

At another time, after referring to 1 Pet. ii. 7, "Unto you which believe he is precious;" she added, "Precious Jesus!" and departed on the 20th day of September, 1837, having just