As the country filled up and our work enlarged, my geographical limits diminished. First, I had all of Kansas and Nebraska Territories; then Nebraska alone; now I found myself reduced to one-half of that Territory. The field began to look contracted; albeit to some, unused to long prairie distances, it might still have seemed to possess ample dimensions.

     Every year witnessed a steady though not rapid growth of population in Nebraska, and, with this, a corresponding improvement of the country. Fine farms began to be seen, especially in the region of the Platte and Nemahas. The cabin was, in some instances, giving way to a more commodious residence, and a general aspect of comfort began to appear. Roads were established, and in most of my ordinary travel I was enabled to dispense with my pocket compass. Nor were the sack of corn, the lunch, and the coffee-pot so indispensable as formerly. Remunerative crops had been raised, and the settlers were beginning to shake off their dependence upon the States over the river for supplies Good brick church edifices had been erected in Omaha and Nebraska City, and comfortable houses of worship were this year put up at several other points. Schoolhouses began to appear, with all the usual appliances of improved society.

     A very great drawback, however, was imposed upon the actual growth and improvement of the country by the wild and reckless spirit of speculation that spread like a contagion all over the West; a mania, knowing no legitimate
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bounds, disdaining all the restraints of prudence and discretion, overleaping all considerations of morals and integrity, and outraging every sentiment of honor and conscience. It spread into all ranks from the highest to the lowest. With, or without capital, men plunged into the vortex. Even day-laborers, after a short time of successful employment, caught the animus, disdained their vocation, doffed the character of "workies," and stuck out from some shanty a shingle as "Land Agent, etc." And the further we proceed from the heart toward the extremities of the country, the more did this disease seem to prevail. Nebraska, perhaps, was unexcelled in speculations of this kind. Men could be bought and sold for a consideration. Even Legislative influence and votes, it was boldly affirmed, had their price; and public and private integrity were madly sacrificed at the shrine of Mammon; and that a false, unpaying Mammon.

     Land-claims opened up a large field for the exercise of this talent. But the great game of the time was town-buildinq. A few men associated; laid a claim upon a plat of vacant prairie; had a load of stakes hauled from some grove near or remote; employed a surveyor, and run off streets and lots, with park, public square, college or seminary lots, grounds for railroad depot and other public uses; set the stakes, gave sounding titles to the streets, and still more so to the city itself; had the plat lithographed; and forthwith dispatched a competent agent in the direction of sunrise to gull the orientals with "corner lots." Speaking with a sharp operator, whose guest I was for the time, about a particular branch of domestic economy essential to comfort, which seemed generally neglected, he said, "We have not time to attend to it--too busy making money." "How do you make it?" said I. "Dealing in lots," he replied. "With whom do you deal?" I asked. "With one another," was his answer." But," I inquired, "upon whose hands do the lots finally settle down?" "Those of Eastern purchasers," was the ultimatum. Large amounts, too, were

actually invested in building hotels, store-houses, and private residences by those who were credulous enough to believe that veritable cities were to spring up all over the country. Capital and enterprise were diverted from their proper and useful channels, and the actual improvement of the country retarded.

     Quite a furor also prevailed on the subject of banking. An individual or a company, frequently non-resident, applied to the Territorial Legislature, and, by some means, fair or foul, obtained a charter; erected a shanty in some obscure place; put out the sign of "BANK;" flooded the country with their circulation; stopped payment; retired into dignified bankruptcy, and left the bill-holders to "pocket the loss." Such establishments were found all over the Territory. Of all the banking concerns in Nebraska, but a single one is now standing.

     The result of all was not merely public and private pecuniary wreck, but a deeply-detrimental influence upon the integrity and moral principle of the community. The obligation of a contract was lost sight of, the standard of moral honesty lowered, fraudulent bankruptcies became common, oaths were trifled with, and the principles of conscience and of right ignored. I will not say that this was universal. Honorable exceptions were found; examples of probity and integrity. But the prevailing influence was of a contrary character; and a shock was sustained from which it will take a generation fully to recover.

     Another unfavorable influence ruinously affecting the morals, the growth, and the general prosperity of the country, was found in the character of the men appointed to Federal offices in the Territory. Among them were men of ability and moral worth; men who would have done honor to their positions in any country. But too large a share, as is usual in Territorial appointments, were cast-off politicians, reckless in principles and in habits, sent out merely to be provided for; men whose example and personal influence were most destructive, but whose position gave them weight

in community. Of this the better class of citizens felt that they had cause to complain; but complaints were unheeded.

     In the midst, however, of all these opposing influences, there was still a leavening principle at work. There was among the hardy settlers enough of intelligence, enough of virtue and moral integrity, enough of genuine piety, to prevent a decline in the general prosperity and welfare, improvement was staid and hindered, but not abandoned. Morals and religion had a struggle with vice; but still they advanced. Each succeeding year made its addition to the members of our own religious communion; other denominations entered the field and labored with success; and in the midst of opposing influences, the work went steadily on.

     Two good camp meetings were held this year in the bounds of Nebraska City district. The first was in the rear of the Half-Breed Reservation, on the Great Nemaha, near to where Falls City is now located. The rain fell copiously and continuously. The tents had no sufficient covers. I was thoroughly drenched in my bed, having no alternative. I bore it patiently. But there were showers of grace too. On Sabbath the sun shone forth; the Word was preached; the power of the Lord attended, and, before the close of the meeting, a large number, old and young, were brought into the fold of Christ. The second was held, as the year previous, near to Rock Bluffs. This is one of the most populous and best-improved sections of the Territory. The attendance was large, and the meeting profitable.

     November of this year found me again in the city of New York, at the session of the General Mission Committee. Returning again by the Northern route, I made what I trust may be my last stage trip through the State of Iowa, in the Winter season, suffering greatly again from cold and exposure in traveling by night and by day.

     The Winter of 1857-8 was mild and pleasant, in beautiful contrast with the two preceding. Traveling was comfortable, with few exceptions, all the season; and outdoor

labor could be performed without inconvenience. The preachers were able to pursue the work with greater regularity. Again I was enabled to meet punctually my quarterly appointments, besides doing a large amount of extra service.

     Early in April we were on our way to the session of our Annual Conference at Topeka, Kansas. The distance from my residence was about one hundred and sixty miles. Our company from Nebraska, numbering about fifteen, concentrated on Saturday, the 10th, at Falls City, near the Kansas line, where I was holding a quarterly meeting. The two days of religious service passed with much interest. The weather was stormy; and the Great Nemaha was swollen beyond crossing. We had intended to take the "Lane route" directly through, but were forced into another course. Fearing a confusion of counsels, it was proposed, at our Sabbath afternoon meeting, to appoint competent conductors, who should make all arrangements, select a route, give directions, and pilot the company through. Two seniors, acquainted with the country, were selected. Orders were immediately given to all to appear early on Monday morning at a designated point, furnished, each, with one day's provisions.

     The morning came, cold, snowy, and forbidding; but all were on hand. My buggy was left behind, and my faithful steed again converted into a saddle-horse, in common with my brethren. Passing down the Nemaha to near its mouth, we crossed at Roy's Ferry. Thence angling across the country, we, on the second day, entered the Lane road.

     The appearance of such a company of "mounted rangers," in this land of excitements, often led to the question,

     "What's up?" To all we were able to return "an answer of peace." Rain, high waters, and rough fare, did not depress the spirits nor lessen the appetite. At nightfall, we distributed ourselves over sufficient space to find shelter and edibles, and in the morning reassembled. The afternoon of the 14th found us on the bank of Kansas River,

opposite Topeka. But the river was from bank to bank, the ferry-boat gone, and the bridge was not finished. Putting our horses temporarily into the care of some Indians, by the help of a skiff, and the part-way bridge, we reached the other shore, and delivered our company safely into the hands of the committee of reception.

     On arriving, we found that instead of Bishop Simpson, who was confined by illness, Bishop Janes was in attendance, with whom I was to have a home at the house of Rev. Mr. ----, the Episcopal minister. In this place, it may be remembered I had preached for the first time, three years before, and lodged in a lone shanty.

     The session was opened by Bishop Janes, on Thursday the 15th. With increasing numbers, there was found to be an increased amount of business. The session occupied four days, and was characterized by real earnestness and close application to business. Omaha, Nebraska, was fixed as the place of the next annual session.

     A large number of transfers was received and a class of sixteen was admitted on trial. A fourth district was formed in Kansas, making six in the Conference. Fifty-seven fields of labor appear upon the Minutes with forty-seven preachers appointed from the Conference. Number in society, including probationers, two thousand, six hundred and sixty nine, being more than double the number reported the year previous. Kansas had enjoyed a year of peace and both Territories were advancing in population. A change was made in the district appointments by which I was removed to Omaha district, the country below the Platte having been embraced in my charge for four years.

     It might earlier have been stated, that the Conference had, at a previous session, adopted Baker University, at Baldwin, Kansas, and Bluemont College, at Manhattan, in the same Territory, as institutions of learning, under the patronage of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Both institutions have opened their doors with flattering prospects of success.

     THE closing year of my district labors in Nebraska was now entered upon. My field, for this year, embraced a greater extent of territory, and was more laborious than that of the preceding. The settlements were newer and more sparse; the settlers more ill provided for, and the roads in worse condition. In addition to this, the difference in latitude added not a little to the frequency and severity of the Winter storms.

     Omaha district embraced all the settlements north of the Great Platte River, extending in a line up the Missouri River, near two hundred miles, to the mouth of Running Water; and up the Platte and its tributaries, Elkhorn and Loup Fork, a distance of one hundred miles. Within the district were eight mission-fields, to five of which preachers were appointed from the Conference, leaving three "to be supplied." One supply only was obtained; two missions were consolidated under the charge of one man; and one field, upon the extreme north, remained unfilled during the year.

     The Spring and early Summer of 1858 were characterized by extraordinary rains in this locality, not materially affecting Missouri River, but swelling the smaller tributaries, time after time, to an unprecedented hight, sweeping away bridges, and rendering traveling almost impracticable. A Government thoroughfare, under the name of a military road, had been constructed up the Missouri for some hundreds of miles. Near a score of bridges had been erected over the small but deep-channeled streams. Nearly every one, in the course of the season, was carried away, leaving

streams almost, or quite, impassable--a way embarrassing state of affairs.

     My first trip to this upper region occupied a portion of May and June. Most of the bridges had already gone; the direct road had to be abandoned, and a way sought over the bluffs. About one hundred miles up, among the Black-Bird Hills, is the Omaha Reserve, fronting some thirty miles upon the river, through which we must pass to the upper settlements. In the forks of Black-Bird Creek is the Omaha village, heretofore described. The two bridges were gone, and both streams were swollen, steep-banked, miry, and dangerous to pass. Arrived at the first, I found a group of lazy, lounging Indians, sunning themselves on the opposite shore, and awaiting the approach of some luckless traveler. By signs and words I inquired where I should cross. The wily savages pointed me to a place into which they tried to induce me to drive; expecting, probably, to see some sport, and to realize a fee for helping me out of my difficulty. Being a little suspicious, I waited for a time. At length an honest-looking fellow came along, and pointed me the way to a place of less difficulty, thereby depriving them of the sport and profits, and saving me from difficulty and danger.

     It being late in the afternoon when I got over these streams, I sought a lodging at the Government Farm and Agency, but was denied. In vain did I present my vocation and object; I could not obtain the privilege even of sleeping upon the floor, and finding my own provisions, but was directed to an Indian tavern some miles off. Not relishing this, I drove on, planning for a night in the woods by my own camp-fire. Soon I found that my trail entered a vast tract covered with water of unknown depth, perhaps for miles. I endeavored to pass around, but was hemmed in and had to "take water." In I drove, committing myself to the floods. It proved of fordable depth, though of long and tedious continuance. Emerging from the floods, I espied through the forest the stately stone mis-

sion house of the Presbyterian Station. Approaching and giving my name and position, I was kindly met by the Superintendent, Rev. Dr. Sturgess, and his excellent lady, recognized as a missionary and a brother, formed an interesting acquaintance, and ever after had a welcome and pleasant home among them. Thanks to the churl that had turned me off an hour before.

     The trip embraced more or less stay in Florence, Fort Calhoun, De Soto, Cuming City, Tekama, and Decatur below the Reserve, and Omadi and Dakotah above. I also crossed the Missouri into Northern Iowa, visited Sioux City, and looked in upon Dakotah Territory. It had been my purpose to travel up the Missouri as far as I could, but I found further progress for the present impracticable, and turned my face homeward. At Omaha Creek the bridge had fallen in during my stay. Returning, I was compelled to procure aid, take my buggy apart, and carry it piece by piece over the wreck of the bridge, then uniting the length of two picket-ropes--nearly one hundred feet--fastening one end around the neck of my faithful horse, and throwing the other over the stream, with two men on one side to put him in, and three on the other to pull at the rope, the noble animal was drawn through the mire and current by main force. At other points I had great difficulty. Our quarterly meetings were seasons of interest and profit.

     A second trip was made over the same ground in August, with scenes almost similar, and the addition of flies by day and musketoes by night. My buggy gave way under the hard service, and, for a time, with these surroundings, I was forced to "lay up for repairs."

     Repeated trips, also, were made to the portion of the district up the Platte, and upon the Elkhorn, or, as familiarly termed, "The Horn." In the first of these, having the misfortune to tear off a wheel from my vehicle upon a ferryboat, I was compelled to make a long horseback ride in mi[d]-summer. The traveling in this section was less difficult, but the musketoes were next to unendurable. The
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luxury of a musketo-bar was rarely known, and the practice was to resort to a "smudge." As evening approached, a fire was kindled near the dwelling, upon which green grass was thrown, producing a dense smoke, and partially driving them away, so as to afford some relief at the expense of a suffocating process. I have known a family to sit up with their horses, and " smudge" them all night.

     The annual trip to the Atlantic seaboard was made in the Fall, as usual, the session of the General Mission Committee attended, and a little season spent with friends in New York, Baltimore, Washington, and other places. Having had so bitter an experience of Winter--staging in Iowa, I determined, this time, to risk a passage, late as it was, up the Missouri. The ice met us about one hundred miles below St. Joseph, and, after some days' hard battling, we succeeded in making that point, whence I took land conveyance home. The quarterly meetings for the third quarter had been mainly held during my absence.

     The labors of the fourth quarter were entered upon and prosecuted as usual. The Winter was generally mild. The crossing of streams upon the ice was, much of the time, precarious and insecure. Hazards were encountered, perhaps beyond the bounds of strict propriety. At one time my horse broke through the ice in attempting to cross Missouri River. When I saw my long-tried and faithful servant contending with the ice and the current, and in momentary danger of being swept under, my feelings of self-reproach for his exposure became very strong. I could not bear the thought of his perishing thus by my rashness. By a desperate effort, with some assistance, he extricated himself. I sent him back home, inwardly promising never thus to expose him again. Crossing myself, I started off upon the district on foot, bearing my baggage till relieved, which was not till well-nigh wearied down with my unwonted mode of travel.

      We now approach a scene of deep and painful interest; one which in its results was greatly to affect my future

life and labors. Hitherto, in all my wanderings and toils, I had always had a devoted and willing participant. Home had been cheered and made a resting-place, with a society and companionship all that I desired. Absence had been relieved by the reflection that the family altar was kept up, the morning and evening sacrifice offered, the interests and comfort of dependent ones provided for, and all the details of secular business and domestic care guided by a competent and faithful hand. A counselor, too, and friend, had been near me in every hour of impetuosity or of discouragement; diffident, unobtrusive, but judicious, constant, gentle, faithful.

     The opinion had seemed to be mutually, though rather silently, entertained that I, though possessing more firmness of physical constitution, should first be called away; and all the arrangements of later years had contemplated this event. For this I had endeavored to have my "house in order." But how vain are all our plans founded upon mere presentiment. "God's ways are not our ways, nor his thoughts our thoughts." A cup was prepared for me of which I had never expected to drink.

     Upon the morning of the 3d of February, 1859, I started upon the northern portion of my fourth round of quarterly meetings. The trip would take me to the extreme of the district and occupy several weeks. All at home were well and cheerful. My meeting at De Soto was attended. The ensuing Sabbath was the time fixed for the quarterly meeting at Dakotah, above the Omaha Reserve, and the intervening week was to be spent in visiting the towns upon the way. On Monday I rode to Cuming City and preached. On Wednesday I was in Tekama and preached again, intending to proceed the next day. A deep fall of snow arrested my progress; traveling was suspended; the way up through the Indian lands being unbroken and without white inhabitants, it was deemed unsafe to attempt the journey. For the first time in my itinerant life I turned my back upon a storm. Starting homeward on Friday

morning, I reached Fort Calhoun on Saturday. Finding my excellent friend, Rev. H. Burch, engaged in a series of meetings in that place, and knowing that my family were not yet expecting me, I remained and preached three times, both of the evening sermons being founded upon Hosea x, 12, "It is time to seek the Lord." Little did I imagine the scenes then transpiring at my own dwelling. Early on Monday, the 14th, I again set my face homeward.

     On the morning of Thursday, the 9th, my last day in Tekama, the family scene at home had been as usual. My wife, according to her uniform custom in my absence, had assembled the household at an early hour, read the Holy Scriptures, the portion for that morning being Psalm cxlvi, bowed with her children, and commended them to God in prayer. A few hours passed in household avocations, when, while seated at her needle, she was suddenly attacked with violent illness. Medical aid was immediately called, but in vain. The disease baffled medicine, and almost from the first precluded hope. Three days of most excruciating suffering followed. On the morning of the 14th, God released her sanctified spirit and took her to himself.

     My supposed great distance, and the want of knowledge of my route, prevented my being sent for, though in reality I had passed most of the time of her illness within one day's ride of home. Reaching Omaha in the afternoon, where I had expected to pass the night, I heard of her illness, and in ten minutes after of her death. A solitary but hasty night-ride of twenty-five miles brought me to my home at a late hour. Unknowingly, I passed into a room where my eyes rested upon the precious remains, before I had seen a living being about the house.

     Reason remained unimpaired to the last. Under the most racking torture, perfect patience and resignation were exercised. Not a murmur escaped. Eight children were at her bedside. During the illness she had all objects removed out of sight which reminded her of unfinished plans and contemplated domestic arrangements, saying, "I shall work

no more," calmly gave directions about her household affairs, even the most minute, inquired kindly after the health of some that were indisposed, thanked attending friends for their good offices, and expressed a fear that she should be troublesome or grow impatient, gave instructions for preparations for her funeral, addressed personally each of her children present, sent her last words to the absent one, and charged all to meet her in heaven, enjoined them to be "kind to their father," left a most tender and consoling message for myself, referring to my expectation that she would survive me, "Tell him not to grieve--we shall meet soon," exclaiming near the last, "O that I could see Mr. G. once more!" From the first, her confidence was firm and repeatedly expressed. Almost the last words uttered were two lines of a hymn often sung in our family worship:

     A spot was selected upon my own farm, in the border of a grove, at the distance of a few hundred yards, and in view of our residence, the deep snow was cleared away, the compass was set by my own hand, the lines marked, and the last earthly resting-place prepared. Sympathizing neighbors and friends crowded the rooms of our dwelling, while a funeral sermon, from 2 Kings xx, 1, 2, 3, was preached by my friend, Rev. John Guylee, of Council Bluffs district. The gentle and practiced hands of his excellent wife prepared the remains for interment. The last kiss was imprinted upon the "beautiful clay," and the lid was closed. A procession was formed of rude sleds, on one of which the mortal remains were borne away to the spot, the funeral service was read, and all that was mortal was deposited in the tomb to await "the voice of the archangel and the trump of God."

     So passed away the thirty years' companion of my life. "I was dumb with silence; I opened not my mouth, because thou didst it."

     A plain slab of Italian marble marks the last resting-place with the simple inscription:

     Evergreens and roses, planted by affectionate hands, surround the spot. Adieu! sainted one, till the resurrection morn. "Rest, weary dust, rest!--Rest, weary spirit, with the Father of Spirits," till his own voice shall call thee forth!

     THE scenes of the preceding chapter were followed by two months of loneliness and feeble personal health, with my motherless ones at home, and attending the bedside of one nearly related and sinking under the wastings of consumption. Only a single visit was made to my Territorial work, holding quarterly meetings at the principal points, and arranging for the approaching Conference at Omaha.

     On the morning of April 14, 1859, the Conference assembled. Bishop Scott not having arrived, a president pro tem. was elected, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered, and the Conference proceeded to business. On the morning of the second day, the Bishop appeared and took the chair. The session lasted four days. Attendance was full; reports were favorable, and all seemed full of life and vigor. On Monday afternoon the appointments were read, and Conference adjourned.

     The aggregate membership this year, including probationers, was found to be three thousand, six hundred and twenty-six, an increase of more than one thousand over the previous year. The number of districts was continued as the year preceding. Sixty-nine fields of labor, inclusive of districts, appear upon the Minutes; and sixty-one preachers received appointments from the Conference.

     In addition to these, the Missionary Board at New York, had, in view of the large emigration to the mining region at the base of the Rocky Mountains, appropriated from the contingent fund a sum sufficient to send laborers into that section. A separate field was constituted, under the name of Pike's Peak and Cherry Creek mission. Owing, how-

ever, to the demand for home laborers, and the domestic circumstances of the preachers, no men were found for this work, and it was left "to be supplied."

     At this session resolutions were introduced requesting the General Conference to divide the Kansas and Nebraska Conference, by the Territorial line, making one Conference in Kansas and another in Nebraska. To this measure I stood in opposition alone; and, of course, yielded to the overwhelming odds against me. Time will test its wisdom. Another session of the Annual Conference was to intervene before the General Conference; but it remained unaltered, and was considered as silently reaffirmed. All my experience is against very small Conferences, except where there is reason to expect a speedy and rapid growth.

     Proposals, also, were received from two different places for the establishment of an institution of learning of high grade in Nebraska Territory, and asking the fostering care of the Conference. After due consideration, the proposal from Oreapolis was accepted by the vote of a large majority.

     Domestic cares, in the providential circumstances of my family, imperatively (sic) demanding for a season my personal attention, I was forced to decline further district-work; or, indeed, any appointment that should take me from home. I was, accordingly, favored with an appointment to the pastoral charge at Oreapolis, the site of our contemplated literary institution, a town then newly laid off at the mouth of the Great Platte, and contiguous to my family residence. Leavenworth, Kansas, was selected as the place of the next Conference session.

      Five years had now elapsed since my first appointment to time work in the Territories of Kansas and Nebraska. They had been, for the most part, especially in the first-named Territory, years of struggle and sanguinary conflict, unprecedented in the history of the settlement of any previous portion of the United States. In the history of these times is manifested the wisdom of the steps taken by our Episcopal Board, sustained by the liberal policy of the

Missionary Society, and guided by the hand of Providence for the early and effective occupancy of this field. Our ministry were first on the ground in labors among the white settlers. In their feelings and sympathies they were hand in hand with the great majority of the people in all their struggles. This gave them access to the people, and an influence which was always wielded for the preservation of order, peace, and subjection to law. Decided as they were in their sentiments on the great pending issue, and fearless as they were in their avowal, still their influence was strictly conservative. A powerful religious element was thus thrown into the struggle, which had no small weight in shaping the final destiny of the country, and, meantime, holding in check the feelings of exasperation which were almost beyond control. But for this influence, the violence of the scene had doubtless been greatly increased. It was a season of imminent peril, and to some of the preachers one of personal loss and suffering; but it was borne by them with an integrity and firmness worthy of the primitive days of Methodism.

     The increase of population and improvement in Nebraska, though at no time rapid, had been steady and gradual. Kansas had received a rapid influx at an early time; but it was checked by the violence of the time. No sooner, however, was there a little respite, than signs of recuperation began to appear. The wooden buildings, consumed by fire, were replaced by stone; dilapidations were repaired; a tide of population again poured in, and a general appearance of energy and activity prevailed. At the period of which I write, I suppose that the aggregate white population of the two Territories exceeded one hundred thousand souls, where five years before I had reported less than five hundred families. Thrifty and populous towns had grown up where, a few years previous, I had traveled over the smooth, unbroken surface of the prairies; and a busy population was found where all had been solitude and silence.

     A Territorial Conference had been formed, and held its

first session within the limits, in little over two years from the time the first missionary was appointed to the field. The published Minutes exhibit annually a large ratio of increase in membership, save one year of trial and excitement. From a single preacher appointed to this vast field, the number had now increased to threescore effective men, scattered up and down, and laboring faithfully to plant the Church in the wilderness.

     Nor had the literary culture of this growing community been left out of sight. Acting under the conviction, so clearly, wrought out in the experience of the older States, that healthful education, in our country, can only succeed by the fostering aids of religion, attention was early directed to laying the foundation of future institutions of learning; while the first efforts should be wisely and vigorously put forth to secure an efficient system of common school education as the basis of all sound instruction. Sabbath schools were in successful operation all over the land; tract publications were distributed; Bible societies were established, and pursuing their beneficent and glorious work; and all the machinery of moral, social, and intellectual improvement peculiar to the day was in full, complete, and successful operation.

     Thus had God placed the seal of his approbation upon the labors of his servants, crowning their efforts with present success, and placing before them the prospect of future and still increasing good, through their instrumentality, to coming generations.

     Conference over, I retired to my home to await the issue of affliction then pending with threatening aspect in a department of my family near at hand, intending, meanwhile, as best I could, to serve the little flock committed to my charge. But God had other designs. A few brief weeks closed the eyes of the suffering one in the peaceful slumbers of the grave. A young and widowed one returned to the paternal home to supply, as best she might, the newly-created vacancy in the domestic household, and the family

organization was reconstructed in accordance with Providential circumstances.

     Thus, in the providence of God, painful as were its steps, the way opened for a change of my field of labor, and for far more active scenes than had been contemplated. Truly, "as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are his ways higher than our ways, and his thoughts than our thoughts." But this is reserved for a following department of this volume.

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