and petty officers of the ship, and the scene was most impressive:*

"It was a beautiful sunset, the tall plume-like cocoanut trees waved gently above our heads. Borne upward from the sea, mournfully but not discordantly, came the sound of the breakers, as they burst against the shore, while from orange, and from lime, and from a thousand fragrant herbs, delicious scents filled the air. All the islanders were present in their white tappa - cloth dresses, the officers also in white attire. The poor widow hung upon the arm of Captain Prevost, and, surrounded by her nine children, led the mournful procession to the grave, which was dug in a small garden, where were interred the remains of the father, mother, and brother of M'Koy. Amidst the tears and sobs of the community, the Rev. W. H. Holman, Chaplain of the Portland (who had remained. at Pitcairn during the absence of Mr. Nobbs), read the burial service most impressively, and at the conclusion the islanders sang one of their beautiful hymns. The impression made by this touching and unusual scene could not be easily effaced from the minds of the captain and officers of the Virago, whose stay at the island had been prolonged by this sad occurrence."

H.M.'s ship Dido having touched at Pitcairn in December, 1853, Reuben Nobbs returned to Valparaiso, accompanied by his brother Francis. The delicate state of Reuben's health had induced his friends to advise him to try the effect of his native air for a few months, but soon after his arrival at Valparaiso it became evident that his lungs

* Extract from a letter written by Mr. Toup Nicholas, who had accompanied Captain Prevost in the Virago to visit Pitcairn Island. He was Her Majesty's Consul-general at Raiatea, the largest of the Society group of islands in the South Pacific. It is situated a hundred and fifty miles from Pitcairn, and is about forty miles in circumference, mountainous with extensive and well-watered valleys.

were seriously affected, and that he thought his case hopeless was shown in an extract from his letter to Rear-admiral Moresby, dated Valparaiso:

"April 27th, 1854.

"There are several reasons for which I desire to lose neither time nor opportunity in returning home. Not merely that I think the voyage (if at all a pleasant one), with the balmy air of my native isle, will do much to restore me, nor the natural desire to have my bones laid beside those of my relatives and friends. But one reason is, I can not endure the thought of what Francis will suffer, if I am taken away before he will be able to reach home in safety. Another reason is, the effect which I know the report of my having died in a foreign land will have on the anxious, too tender heart of my dear mother. Still I most fervently say, 'Thy will, O Lord, be done! Thou knowest best what to ordain concerning me.' Should it please the Lord to restore me to my home, and even to a comparatively sound state of health, I shall endeavor by His help and blessing to improve the little talent intrusted to my care in assisting to further the intellectual and in some respects the moral improvement of my people.”

The following is an extract from a letter to Rear-admiral Fairfax Moresby, C.B., in which Mr. Nobbs announces with much feeling the death of his son Reuben:

"Pitcairn, July 16th, 1855. "I have received your most kind and acceptable letters of the respective dates of the 15th of June and 29th of July, 1854. I immediately convened the community, and read to them your letters.

"We are now on the eve of yam-harvest, and though the crop is quite a poor one, we have a good stock of sweet-potatoes to turn to, though few or none to spare for ships; however, humanly speaking, the pinch of this year is over, and by perhaps next March, when a sort of six upon four term commences, we may, if it pleases God, be en route for Norfolk Island. We are going on very com

fortably at present; both church and school are well attended, and a very great degree of unanimity exists.

"And now I have to record a dispensation it has pleased Almighty God to visit on myself and family. I do not call it an afflictive dispensation, for although in the bereavement many of my earthly anticipations were prostrated, still I am most graciously permitted to sing of mercy and judgment. Last December my two sons, Reuben and Francis, who had gone to Valparaiso in the Dido, returned hither, the eldest, Reuben, far gone in pulmonary consumption, and the other having betrayed incipient indications of the same disease. Their many friends in Valparaiso advised their return, as the only means (humanly speaking) of restoring Francis to health, and arresting for a short time the fatal malady which was rapidly bearing poor Reuben to the grave.

"They accordingly left Valparaiso in a French ship bound to Tahiti, and remained there two months without being able to obtain a passage home, but they were efficiently cared for by some good Samaritans residing there. Still Reuben kept declining, and fears were entertained that he would never see Pitcairn again. At length, when all hopes began to give way, an opportunity unexpectedly offered. An American ship from California, ostensibly bound on a pleasure-trip, arrived at Tahiti, when the owner of the vessel, in conjunction with the gentleman who professed to have chartered her, on hearing of the situation and desires of my children, promptly offered to convey them hither. They were accordingly received on board, and after a lengthened passage of twenty-two days arrived here. During the passage they were treated with the greatest kindness and sympathy by these gentlemen and several other passengers, among whom was a lady, the wife of the principal personage on board, and she too was most indefatigable in her motherly attentions to my poor boy. Before they left us (after a sojourn of two days) they sent on shore from their cabin-stores a very large quantity of such things as would be serviceable to

Reuben, and, moreover, they refused payment in any shape for the passage but thanks of gratitude, and these were most heartily accorded them by the whole community. "My poor boy sank rapidly after his return. I saw from the first there was no probability of his recovery; but this stroke of domestic affliction was mercifully divested of much of its severity on finding that he was perfectly aware of his situation, and not only resigned to it, but anxiously desirous to depart and enter into the joy of his Lord. Sometimes his dear mother, flattered by the specious appearance of his insidious disease, would hint at the probability of his being yet spared to us. But, with a gentle shake of the head, he would reply, 'No, dear mother, I feel I am rapidly approaching the grave; humanly speaking, my recovery is impossible, and that my dear father knows as well as I do; and, if it is not improper to entertain such a wish, I would rather not return to health again. My earnest desire and prayer is to depart and be with Christ, which is far better.' Such was

the tenor of his discourse during the short time he was spared us; and he died strong in faith, giving glory to God. An hour before his death he was seized with a violent spasm, which we thought would have carried him off; but he rallied again. Seeing his mother weeping, he said, 'Do not weep, mother; one more such stroke, and I shall be in the arms of my Saviour.' Shortly after he had another attack, and nothing remained but his attenuated form. The happy spirit had returned to join the glorified throng. He died on Friday afternoon, March 2d, at six o'clock.

"The Sunday before his death, I administered to him the Holy Eucharist. There were eight of us present, and it was a time of refreshing; so awfully sublime did it appear to us all, that we felt as if we were indeed where Jacob felt himself to be on his awakening at Luz. Most grateful did I feel that I was invested with full authority to dispense this most precious rite-that I could stand by the bed of my dying child, and offer him the symbols of a

dying Saviour's love, and declare the remission of sins through faith in His all-sufficient atonement. I repeat, I felt most grateful to those who, under God, were instrumental in conferring upon me clerical ordination; and I am sure a full share of that gratitude was reflected towards yourself, my well-beloved and respected friend.

"The remains of my beloved child were deposited with their kindred dust, the first fruits of a family of eleven children. And should it please my Heavenly Father to call the survivors from time to eternity, and they were graciously permitted to witness as good a confession as their departed brother did, I humbly believe I could bow with submission to the righteous mandate, and say 'It is well.'

"To that phase of the consistent professor's life, the chamber where the good man meets his fate, I can revert with unmingled satisfaction. It has been my privilege to attend the bed of sickness among this community for twenty-seven years, and I have frequently had the unspeakable happiness to listen to the testimony of the dying believer; to see death so robbed of its sting, that the soul before quitting its frail tenement seemed invested with an antepast of heaven. Such manifestations can by no means be construed into mental hallucinations or transient feelings of excited gratitude. For-not to recur to the happy state of mind in which many of our immortals have entered the 'dark valley'-here (I refer to my deceased child) was a young man prostrated in the prime of his days, and for many weeks standing on the brink of eternity, with a full and solemn view of his state deeply impressed on his mind, both from his own feelings, and the conversation of his sorrowing but happy friends. Yet he could, amidst the ravages and exhaustion of pulmonary consumption, so entirely resign himself to the providential dispensation of his Heavenly Father, as to make the exemplary words of his suffering and acquiescent Saviour the frequent and earnest theme of his aspiration—' Not my will, but thine be done.' I have repeated the solemn