was impossible to dig a grave, so the coffin was placed on the surface of the ground and a brick wall built around it. This could not be done in the public burying-ground, and we laid our dear old Loong Nan in our own garden under the mango trees. Every one said, 'How different from a heathen burial!'
"Do I believe that Jesus is? Yes, as I believe that I live now. Nan Intah, a poor ignorant Laos, in this remotest corner of the globe, believed the precious story of our Lord and received the promise, 'I will not fail thee nor forsake thee.' 'I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.' That bright look of surprised joy,—I thank our Lord for permitting me to see it, and it has strengthened my faith in him."
With this story of the peaceful death and Christian burial of a man but a little time ago a believer in witchcraft, a worshiper of spirits and of Buddha, knowing nothing of God or Christ or his own soul, we leave the general subject to look more particularly at the Laos country and people.
