The following letter from Mr. W. F. Oldham, of Singapore, in the Straits Settlements, Malay Peninsula, India, appeared in a Meadville paper December 27, 1888. In introducing the letter the editor of the paper makes the following remarks: "Our friend Francis C. Waid having received the following letter from W. F. Oldham, now a teacher and missionary in India, has kindly handed it to us for publication, knowing that it will prove interesting to a large number of acquaintances and friends. Mr. Oldham was formerly a student at Allegheny College, and while pursuing his studies here gave many lectures in the vicinity. He is a native of India." SINGAPORE, NOV. 3, 1888. Dear Brother and Sister Waid: We were pleased to receive your letter of April last, which I unhappily mislaid soon after receipt. Sow that I have found it again, I write at once. I am, as you will see by consulting a map, at the southernmost extremity of Asia, within eighty miles of the equator. This is a lovely place, where every prospect pleases, and only man is vile. As I am presiding elder of a district, pastor of an English church, and principal of a large and growing school, you can imagine my hands are full. God has prospered us beyond our expectations, as the little school I commenced among a few heathen boys is now a flourishing institution, educating 309 boys, paying its own current expenses, and, paying half the expense of its $14,000 building, into which we have just moved. We have now a membership of sixty, and a promising congregation. We have great joy in upbuilding a Methodist Church from nothing. We have also services in Malay and Tamil, and one of our number is learning Chinese, which is very difficult.. We visit hundreds of heathen homes, and witness for Christ to scores of heathen souls. We pay some attention to the American captains and sailors who come to this port. As a result of these multiform activities, I must confess to being utterly worn out. For four years I have had no single holiday, except when sick once for ten days and another time for six. I have taught on an average forty hours a week, and preached four or five times a week. I mention this to explain why you may probably see me in 1890 back to the U. S. (D. V.) to once more see the beautiful snow, and be invigorated by the tonics of cool weather and renewed Christian friendships. With much interest shall I then revisit State Street Church, and shall be very glad, if you will have me, to preach once more the Gospel of Jesus Christ to my old friends. Please remember me to Brother and Sister Reynolds, the Sacketts, Auntie Brown, the old brother class leader (I forget his name) and all others whom I learned to love in the Lord. Mrs. Oldham is not well, but improves. Yours sincerely, W. F. OLDHAM. In Memoriam MRS. ELIZA C. WAID, Who died at Blooming Valley, Penn., July 4, 1888. "Farewell, Francis dear, farewell, Adieu, farewell to thee; And you my children all, Farewell, farewell to you." Our mother is gone, and we are left The loss of her to mourn. But then we hope to meet with her With Christ before God's throne. Call not back the dear departed Anchored safe where storms are over; On the border land we left her, Soon to meet and part no more, Far beyond this world of changes, Far beyond this world of care; We shall find our missing loved one In our Father's mansion fair. 'Tis hard to break the tender cord When love has bound the heart; 'Tis hard, so hard, to speak the words, "We must on earth forever part." Dearest loved one we must lay thee In the peaceful grave's embrace; But thy memory will be cherished Till we see thy heavenly face. Through all pains at times she'd smile, · A smile of heavenly birth; And when the angels called her home, She smiled farewell to earth. Heaven retaineth now our treasure, Earth the lonely casket keeps; And the sunbeams love to linger Where our sainted mother sleeps. Yes Eliza, sleep, but turn I Back to a busy world of strife; For a place awaits my coming On the battlefield of life. But ere I go, a promise sweet Is to my spirit given, That we shall meet beyond the grave; Yes, meet again, in heaven. *Written on the death of Mrs. F. C. Waid, by a devoted friend, Mrs. M. N. These lines appeared in print--first on July 6, 1888, and again, in a slightly amended form, on November 29, 1888, in the Pennsylvania Farmer. The following beautiful tribute to the memory of Mrs. Eliza C. Waid, a woman who held so enviable a position in the affection of husband, children and friends, appeared in a local paper. It was sent to the bereaved husband by his esteemed friend, J. Y. Gilmore, editor of the New Orleans Sugar Bowl and Farm Journal, accompanied by a warm letter of condolence and sympathy. "She is dead," Simple words are these, lightly spoken by many, and scarcely heeded by the masses, ordinarily; but when it has reference to one who is near and dear to us, either from lifelong friendship or of kindred tie, how differently sounds that sentence! School ourselves as we may in the belief that death is a natural event, which should be expected, and by which we should not be grieved when it comes, there is another natural consequence--that of strong attachment, which grieves at parting--that completely overcomes all cold philosophy when the trial comes. These reflections are caused by the receipt of the unexpected news of the death of Mrs. Francis C. Waid, nee Eliza C. Masiker, a lifelong friend and early schoolmate of this writer. Meeting, as we did, but a few months before, she apparently in perfect health, with that pleasant face and roseate hue for which she was always noticeable, none, unless told, would have suspected that a fatal malady was daily doing its deadly work. She knew the end was approaching, but, with that Christian fortitude so characteristic of her, she murmured not; but that noble life, which had been one long sacrifice to a deep sense of duty, was laid upon this last altar, and, while painful, she peacefully passed away. Although gone before, her memory lingers to bless her friends who are made better by remembering her example, if they but seek to emulate it. She has passed to a more blessed state, and may we all so live that our lives may be as pure and our reconciliation to death as complete as was hers. ADDENDA TO LETTERS RECEIVED FROM RECIPIENTS OF MY FIRST SOUVENIR. MEADVILE, PENN., January 4th, 1887. FRANCIS C. WAID, ESQ., Dear Sir.--I desire to thank you for the interesting volume, containing the biographical sketch of yourself and some of your family and friends, which you so kindly furnished me recently. It is doubly interesting to me from the fact that my relations with you, and many members of the family to which you belong, have given me some personal acquaintance which I would cherish. Old memories are awakened by looking over the pages of your volume. Here are the names of old friends: Ira C. Waid, George W. Cutshall, C. R. Slocum and others. There are the engravings of persons, places and objects which recall other and pleasant days. Your treatise on money lending, and the address to youth, are full of valuable suggestions. Your book seems valuable as illustrating the fact that men may cherish high aims and good habits, and obtain "the life that now is, and that which is to come." It has been written [see 1st Psalm] of certain persons: "He shall be like a tree, planted by rivers of water; his leaf shall not fade, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper." Your volume will be interesting to your family and friends as a genealogical record, and will be profitable in illustrating the path of success in life, and stimulating others to hope and labor efficiently. You have been a laborer; you did not use up all the products of your labor in useless, or worse than useless, expenditure. The surplus products of your labor became capital, or accumulated labor. Those who denounce capital, but praise labor, forget that capital is only accumulated labor. This is a rule; there may be some exceptions, but they are few. Excuse delay in acknowledging the receipt of your volume; it was mislaid a few days. Wishing you continued success and much happiness, I remain Your friend. G. B. DELAMATER. LAWRENCE, KAS., March 19th, 1890. F. C. WAID, ESQ., My Dear Brother :--I was at Conference when your letter came, with that very welcome $10. It has been added to the S. S. window fund, and is on interest until needed for the special purpose. The book which you sent me should have received earlier notice. Your collection of Historical Sketches of relatives, friends and neighbors must afford reflective people of that region of country very great pleasure. Like myself, many are now far away from scenes once familiar. This book calls back many of the brighter places and the sweeter experiences of the earlier days. These pictures of rural life under Christian surroundings are eminently calculated to "Do Good." Fraternally, Jas. MARVIN. Thanks, David