After seeing and conversing with these poor social outcasts, and at the same time having had convincing proofs afforded me every day, from outside sources, of the increase of leprosy among the lower and colored classes, I left the island with the conviction that nothing but complete segregation could ever stamp out this dreadful disease. The success which has since 1865 attended the complete isolation of affected persons in the Sandwich Islands, where leprosy was unknown before its introduction by the Chinese in 1848, as compared with the immense strides the disease was then making, should be an inducement to our legislators to adopt the most stringent measures here, the more especially seeing how widespread this terrible and loathsome disease is becoming. It may not be generally known, but it certainly bears out the generally received theory of the contagiousness of leprosy, that the apostle of the lepers of Molokai is beginning to pay the penalty of his heroism. Shut away from all civilized and healthy humanity, Father Damien has for years been a willing prisoner in the island in which are collected and confined the lepers of all the neighboring Sandwich group. For a long time, though cut off from the outward world, Father Damien continued in good health, though alone among the dead. But the stroke has fallen at last. In a letter written recently he says: “Impossible for me to go any more to Honolulu on account of the leprosy breaking out on me. The microbes have finally settled themselves in my left leg and my ear, and one eyebrow begins to fall. I expect soon to have my face disfigured. Having no doubt myself of the true character of my disease I feel calm, resigned and happier among my people. Almighty God knows what is best for my sanctification, and with that conviction I say daily a good ‘Fiat voluntas Tua.’” Where is the heroism which will vie with this? And does not Father Damien’s martyrdom tend to establish the contagious nature of the scourge?