On the night of June 24th, 1878, Brother I. N. White, then away from his home preaching, dreamed a dream respecting one of his children, a girl about four years of age, the main portion of which we transcribe from a letter written to his wife dated June 26, two days after the dream was given:

" I dreamed that Hella was dead; and that a year had elapsed. I had returned from a distant field depressed in spirit, and sadly thinking that I should never hear little Hella's voice again. Night came on, and when all the children had retired, and you and I were in the front room, I said, ' Emma, it is more than I can stand.' And the great emotions of my heart gave vent to a flood of tears. I wondered why the Lord had taken our little girl from us! You sat between the outside door and the window; I came fro the stair door, when all of a sudden I saw a tall woman dressed in white with a little girl in her arms, in the bedroom door. They both looked delicate and sweet. I started towards her, when she drew back out of my sight; and then I perceived it was an angel; and the little girl in her arms was Hella. I had time only to gather my thoughts, when she appeared again and I asked her in. She came in, and I extended my hand, but she said, 'Do not touch me.' She took a chair and stood Hella down on her feet in front of her, and said, 'This is your little girl Hella.' I looked with astonishment, and at first could not recognize any of her features. I saw that she was a trifle larger, about what one year would make. At first she seemed afraid of me and rather clung to the woman in white. I said, 'Hella, don't you know this is Pa?' and then angel told her the same, and then she recognized me, and I could see all of her sweet features come back to my view very naturally. I embraced her in my arms (God only knows with what feelings) and kissed her several times; when you arose and came and embraced her, and kissed her so tenderly. We both knew that she could not stay with us, but would have to return with the angel.

"The angel informed us that she had brought her to us, because of our continued pleading to appease our tears, and to let us know how well off Hella was. She said that she was little Hella's instructor in the spirit land, until she grew to womanhood. This seemed a mystery to me. I asked her, 'How does the spirit land compare in happiness with this world?' She said, 'It could not be compared; for there all is joy and no labor, tears nor sweat of the face, to earn a living. The glory that is received can only be determined by those who taste of it.' That we could not appreciate it in this world, for it is a much greater change than we could think of. 'But,' said she, 'my time is up and I must be going.' She arose to her feet and took Hella in her arms, and was just in the act of starting when I asked her name, and she wrote it on some dusty or ashy board that I had by; and it was the most beautiful writing that I ever behold; but towards the last part of the name it was very dim, because the dust on the board was not sufficient to show the letters. I said,'Let me give you a slate or pencil and paper' as I wanted to retain her name. But she said, 'My allotted time is up.' And as she passed away, I wanted to inquire if Hella was called by her name Hella, in the spirit land, but she was gone. I stood meditating how punctual even an angel has to be to the time God sets—knowing that she was sent of God, and only for such a time.

"At this time I awoke, and it was only a dream; but with all the power I could muster I could hardly make myself believe but that it was genuine reality."

Here is a dream had by a brother respecting his own household of which his letter to his wife two days after it occurred makes the record.

On October 26th, of the same year, the little one was taken with croup, and of this the father wrote:

"We had always looked upon our little girl (since the dream) as one that would be snatched from our embrace soon. We had no hopes of her recovery from the beginning of her illness. We are satisfied that God's will is done in the matter."

It would be difficult to make this brother think that he was not forewarned of the loss of his child in order that he might be prepared for it when it should come."

—Saints' Herald, December 1, 1878.