ches of the three deputies.
The excitement began to subside. But the poison had been lodged in many
hearts, and the ejectment of it was a slow and difficult process.

Feeling absolutely conscious that I had only done my Christian duty, I
left all results in the hands of my Lord Jesus, and pressed forward in
His blessed work. But more than one dear personal friend had to be
sacrificed over this painful affair. A presbyterian Minister, and a
godly elder and his wife, all most excellent and well-beloved, at whose
houses I had been received as a brother, intimated to me that owing to
this case of the _Curacoa_ their friendship and mine must entirely cease
in this world. And it did cease; but my esteem never changed. I had
learned not to think unkindly of friends, even when they manifestly
misunderstood my actions. Nor would these things merit being recorded
here, were it not that they may be at once a beacon and a guide. God's
people are still belied. And the mob is still as ready as ever to cry,
"Crucify! Crucify!"

CHAPTER LVII.
A PLEA FOR TANNA.

EVERYTHING having been at length arranged for in the Colonies, in
connection with the Mission and _Dayspring_, as far as could possibly
be,--and I having been adopted by the Victorian Assembly of 1866, as the
first Missionary from the Presbyterian Church of Australia to the New
Hebrides,--we sailed for the Islands on the 8th August of that year.
Besides my wife and child, the following accompanied us to the field:
Revs. Copeland, Cosh, and M'Nair, along with their respective wives. On
20th August we reached Aneityum; and, having landed some of our friends,
we sailed Northwards, as far as Efate, to let the new Missionaries see
all the Islands open for occupation, and to bring all our Missionaries
back to the annual meeting, where the permanent settlements would be
finally agreed upon.

While staying at Aneityum, I learned with as deep emotion as man ever
felt for man, that noble old Abraham, the sharer of my Tannese trials,
had during the interval peacefully fallen asleep in Jesus. He left for
me his silver watch--one which I had myself sent to the dear soul from
Sydney, and which he greatly prized. In his dying hour he said, "Give it
to Missi, my own Missi Paton; and tell him that I go to Jesus, where
Time is dead."

I learned also, and truly human-hearted readers will need no apology for
introducing this news in so grave a story--that my faithful dog
_Clutha_, entrus