“He was buried with all the solemnity the colony was able to show.” Out of the shadows he came, back to the shadows he returned. The death of the Apostle of Soul Liberty was nothing more than the slightest ripple on the surface of the life of the community. The people with whom Roger Williams lived had no conception of his real greatness. It remained for a later age to appreciate him and his work. Yet there is an interesting tradition which would seem to show that nature at least did her best to save him from oblivion. He was buried in the family plot at the rear of his dwelling on the slope of the hill which led up from the bubbling spring where he first landed. When, in the rapid growth of the city, it became necessary to remove the graves of the early settlers, there was found in Roger Williams’ last resting-place only the spreading root of an apple tree which, in the passing years, had taken on a curious resemblance to the human form. The personal belongings of Roger Williams at the close of his life must have been few and, for the most part, of no great value. Still at least two priceless relics may be seen to-day which have survived the wear and tear of time. One of these--a pocket-compass--he used to “steer his course” on that momentous journey from unfriendly Massachusetts Bay to the shores of Narragansett. At the base of the instrument are the usual pivoted needle and points of the compass. There is a sun-dial above, the shadows being thrown upon hours cut in the brass rim around the edge of the case. The compass was mentioned in an inventory made by Providence Williams in 1686. It became a treasured family heirloom in the years that followed until it found a permanent home in the rooms of the Rhode Island Historical Society. What thrilling stories the little compass might tell if it could only speak--of New England woods bowed down with their mantle of snow through which the weary traveler plodded his way, of days and days when the wintry sun made no record upon the sun-dial face, of lurking savages whose suspicion was changed to glad greeting once they recognized the fugitive, of welcome wigwams where the fare was crude but hospitably offered. [Illustration: Roger Williams’ pocket-compass and sun-dial with cover. This photograph was taken at the rooms of the Rhode Island Historical Society.] [Illustration: Roger Williams’ watch. It is now kept at Fraunces Tavern, New York City, but is the personal property of Mr. Henry Russell Drowne, whose family received it from a lineal descendant of Roger Williams.]