They received many letters of condolence from their friends, among which was the following, brought to them by Mr. Hall, who was travelling with his invalid wife:

MY DEAR SISTER:

Honolulu, Sandwich Islands, Feb. 22, 1838.

I cannot allow the present opportunity to pass, without "writing you a few lines at least. When you left us for your field of labor, I thought it more than probable, that I should in your wild home ere this. But you will be glad

see you that the causes which seemed to render such a circumstance possible, are, for the present, at least, removed. I now rank among the well ones of our mission, through the blessing of our gracious and merciful Father in Heaven. When our last general letter was forwarded to our patrons, my name was erased from the list of invalids, where it had stood for more than four years. Bless the Lord, oh, my soul, and forget not all his benefits. I feel happy in commending to your kindness and sisterly attention, our dear, delicate sister Hall. I rejoice, that they are going on her account, and earnestly hope that it will result in permanent benefit to her health. She has had a severe trial in leaving her little girl behind, and it will need, on this account, a larger share of your sympathy and kind attentions. But I need not enlarge on this point; you have not forgotten the heart of a stran ger. You have been afflicted in your family, and in your mission. Oh, how your maternal bosom must have been rent with anguish in losing your little babe, under such affecting circumstances. And yet your husband will feel, that his loss is small, compared with that of Mr. Lee. We were much shocked at the account of her death. She seemed to me capable of enduring hardship as a good soldier; such appeared to be the strength of her constitution. And yet.

she has been the first of your number to fall. The Lord does all things well. This is our consolation, even when he moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform.” There has not been a death in our great mission for more than two years. But there are the more to go. I feel an inexpressible solemnity in looking forward to our next annual meeting. It seems so possible that our ranks may be invaded by the grim messenger. May we all have our lamps trimmed and burning. What a privilege to be permitted to labor in the vineyard of the Lord. Let us be diligent and keep our eyes bent upward, and not become ensnared with the temptations of the world. The Lord guide and bless you with his continued favor.

Your affectionate sister,

ABBA W. SMITH.

CHAPTER XIII.

Illness of Mr. Shepherd-Surgical operation-Singular impressions of Mrs. White-His death-Benevolent society-Visit to Xavier'sA Mother's anguish-Burying alive-The drowned boy-Outline of Dr. Bailey's history-John Turner-A hermitage-Turner's bravery-His seclusion.

Soon after this unhappy disaster, occurred the death of Mr. Shepherd, who has before been mentioned, as one of the most useful and devoted members of the mission. He went to Oregon, from Lynn, Massachusetts, in delicate health, being predisposed to the scrofula, having previously lost a sister by the complaint. This, after two years' severe exposure in that new country, exhibited itself in a scrofulous knee joint. After a protracted and painful illness, endured with unparalelled patience, from the acuteness of his suffering, caused by the high state of inflammation in the affected joint, he besought Dr. White to remove the limb. This was done with all possible despatch, and notwithstanding it was "hope against hope," most of his friends looked forward to his recovery. For fifteen or sixteen days, the operation afforded the anticipated relief, and all watched the symptoms in the beloved patient with a solicitude only second to that with which he had watched over the interests of the mission. But, alas! it was in vain; for although he was better in many respects, it was discovered that a large abscess was forming, the discharge of which convinced them that he could not long survive. In a week from that time he expi

red, and his was a glorious death. "It seemed," as one said who was present, "as though the house was full of waiting angels, and that an almost perceptible halo was shed around the death-bed. He continually exhorted the bystanders to patience and perseverance, and desired them not to forget to publish in the United States what delight he felt in this hour; that he had embarked in the cause of Christ and missions. Some of the time it was supposed he was wandering; for he was talking continually as though in the presence of the Almighty, conversing familiarly as with an old friend. Once, while watching with him, he desired Mrs. White to get pen and paper, and write, while he dictated a letter to God. She did so, and wrote from his lips a long piece of very chaste and beautiful poetry, as though emanating from a soul filled with the most pure imaginings, and overflowing with love and reverence for a holy being. When she had finished, "now," said he, "fold and send it up." The scene originated in her mind very singular emotions; she felt almost impressed, that by the departing spirit she might send to heaven some message to her seraph babe and dear Mrs. Lee, and even several times found herself on the point of doing so, and obliged to exercise some restraints to avoid it. When the moment of dissolution approached, the dying man extended both his emaciated hands, exclaiming" All, all is peace! peace! Oh, what glory! glory! glory! We have victory through the lamb!" A person entering the room remarked, "why, surely, he is dying!" "Yes," said he, "I am dying, but dying to live again! I shall soon be over Jordan!" And so Cyrus Shepherd died, universally lamented in Oregon, though his friends were conscious he had entered into a "glorious rest.”

Allow me here to introduce an extract from the most

truthful work of Messrs. Lee & Frost, detailing an account of this estimable man's sickness and death:

But the time has come when we must part with a beloved brother and distinguished fellow-laborer, Mr. Cyrus Shepherd. He had "fought the good fight, finished his course, kept the faith." Since his first engagement in the mission, he had employed himself in labors beyond his strength, and that, too, under a load of bodily infirmities which knew no permanent relief, but increased more and more till they ended in death. Our brother loved society, but he was happier in doing good. In labors he was abundant, endeavoring to do good in every way in his power to all around him, whether whites or Indians. Often did he visit the Indian lodge with food for the hungry and medicine for the sick For the children in the mission under his care he felt a deep and abiding interest. To teach, to clothe, to feed, and to save them, soul and body, was his utmost desire; and this, with the blessed hope of his own salvation, made him constantly "trample on pleasure and pain." By many of the early inhabitants he will long be held in grateful remembrance; but those only who knew him from the first can place a just estimate upon his character. His disease was the scrofula, and in the spring of 1838 it attacked his knee. By recourse to medical treatment, however, the danger was averted, and for eighteen months some hopes were indulged that he would recover. But on the commencement of the rainy season, in the fall of 1839, the disease forced him to take his bed, where, after suffering greatly for about twenty days, it became necessary, as the only hope of saving his life, to resort to the painful process of amputation. This was done December 11, by Dr. White, assisted by Dr. Bailey and Mr. Wilson. He endured all with remarkable pa