Project Canterbury

Seeking a See

A Journal of The Right Reverend Henry Lascelles Jenner D.D.
of his visit to Dunedin, New Zealand in 1868-1869

Edited by the Rev. John Pearce M.B.E.

Dunedin: The Standing Committee of the Diocese of Dunedin, 1984.

Formatted by the Right Reverend Dr. Terry Brown, 2006



Nov. 16, 1868. Preston to Manchester. I left home this morning at 6 en route for Manchester, which city I reached, after various delays, at 8.30 p.m.

Nov. 17. Manchester to Liverpool. Left Manchester for Liverpool, where Mr. Cecil Wray showed me much kindness and hospitality. I preached in the evening at S. Martin's Church.

Nov. 18. Voyage to New York. At 8, by Mr. Wray's kindness I had a Celebration at S. Martin's, which was the greatest comfort to me. There were several communicants. At 12 Mr. Wray and Harry, who had come to see me off, accompanied me on board the City of Boston--which sailed half-an-hour after I got on board. I was very comfortably berthed--with a cabin all to myself. The weather was very calm, though there was a dense fog at starting. I managed to eat a good dinner at 4--soon after which it became quite dark. The ship "hugged" the coast of Anglesey, on which we noted a curious appearance like a mountain on fire. I could get no satisfactory explanation of it. About 10 o'clock we ran down a small coasting schooner, which carried no lights. No great damage was done.

Nov. 19. I slept well and awoke at about 8, just as we were entering Queenstown Harbour. Finding we should remain at anchor until the afternoon, I determined to land and go up to Cork. This was my first visit to Ireland. I just caught the 9.30 train, and spent about two hours in Cork. The election was going on, a good opportunity for displaying mores hominum. I met several processions chiefly of Fenian sympathisers and the streets were crowded by an excited multitude. The mounted police appeared to be in a state of great vigilance and the military also were in readiness, but I saw no signs of an approaching row (though one did occur I heard subsequently). I visited the Cathedral of S. Finn Barr--which is being built from Burges[']* [Footnote: * William Burges (1827-1881) was a friend of Jenner's and had recently designed his crozier. The glorious cathedral in French Early Pointed Style was consecrated in 1870. The octagonal spire on the central tower is 240 feet high, and the West Front is truly magnificent. The interior is loftly with a semicircular apse. The massive buttresses, the great rose windows are particularly noteworthy. Near the pulpit is the tomb of Elizabeth Aldworth (1695-1775) said to be the only woman initiated a Freemason!] design. [81/82] It will be very good, I think. I returned to Queenstown by way of passage, the route being traversed partly by rail and partly by steamer. Very pretty it was. At 3.45, the City of Boston weighed anchor and steamed out of the harbour, the sides of which looked very green and lovely. It was blowing fresh, and we found a good deal of swell outside the harbour. The dinner bell rang at 4.15. I had very little appetite; but then, as I said to myself, and tried to persuade myself, it was such a very short time since my lunch at Queenstown. After dinner I walked about the deck till 7. I saw much of the Irish coast. We passed the Old Head of Kinsale about 7.30. I could not take any tea; and, it is no use disguising the fatal truth, premonitory symptoms are certainly manifesting themselves. Before I left the deck, all sails had been set, and we were going rapidly along with a fair breeze. Turned in (nobody goes to bed at sea) at 8.

Nov. 20. I slept the greater part of the night. The steward told me that it had been blowing very hard and that there was a heavy swell running. I spent the day in bed, and had two bad fits of sickness. I feel pretty comfortable when lying down. I could eat nothing all day but a bit of biscuit with cheese(!). The waves rise constantly far higher than the scuttle of my cabin which is of course closed tight. We are well out in the Atlantic now, with no land in sight.

Nov. 21. I slept well, though the night was rough. The steward brought me tea and toast at 9--which I enjoyed. Turned out (nobody gets up at sea) at 12. After dressing, I had a most violent fit of sickness. The wind being dead ahead, the ship pitches a good deal, there being no sails set to steady her. I could eat no dinner and was obliged to lie down again very soon after dressing. At 7.30 I had some tea and toast which I ate with some relish. My little cabin is very comfortable. It is a great thing having it to myself. I see by the numbers on the door, that it is intended to accommodate four passengers. The worst of it is they don't allow a light to be brought down for fear of fire.

Nov. 22, Sunday. I had a good deal of sleep at intervals during the night. The steward tells me we have a fair wind again and are doing 13 knots. The ship heels over a good deal and my scuttle is constantly under water. The arrangements for service on Sunday, seem to be highly unsatisfactory. The Captain reads Matins or part thereof at 10.15, when the weather permits. Today, the steward reports, there will be no service on account of the swell. I resolved to ask leave to hold a service in the saloon, and another forward, among the emigrants. But all my plans came to nothing, for I was unable to remain for many minutes in an upright position, so I had my services all to myself. Wonderfully appropriate was the 107 Psalm at Matins--and so I have no doubt they thought at Preston. It was unspeakably comforting to think of the number and earnestness of the prayers which were being [82/83] offered for my unworthy self, there and elsewhere, but especially there. I said the Office of Spiritual Communion at the time of the Preston Celebration, allowing for difference of longitude (1_ hours). It seemed to bring us all together as nothing else could. I wonder when I shall be able to leave my cabin. I managed to eat a little bit of roast beef and of plum pudding at 4, today; with this exception I have eaten no animal food since Thursday, nor drunk anything stronger than tea. I turned in at 9--the weather is pretty calm--wind easterly. All sails set.

Nov. 23. The wind changed in the night--and, being now right ahead, causes the ship to pitch fearfully. I awoke at 6 and turned out at 8. Went into the saloon for breakfast, but having no appetite I returned to my cabin, and read in a recumbent attitude till 1. Then I sat up a little, and felt better; at 1, I went on deck for a few minutes. It is blowing hard from the westward and the scene is most grand and impressive. This great ship appears as nothing in the tremendous expanse of ocean. The waves are immense. One of them, from crest to crest, would hold a ship six times our length. Had for dinner giblet soup, boiled pork(!) and apple pudding. The table is by no means full, though people are returning. I like the Captain much. He told me today that they see gulls and other birds during the whole voyage across the Atlantic. During dinner, the ship gave several awful shakes. This is caused by the screw propeller rising out of the water, when, meeting with no resistance, it revolves with uncontrolled rapidity. It is extremely difficult to walk in the saloon, or indeed, in any part of the ship. I had some conversation today, with an intelligent (though very dirty) Scotchman who is a cabin passenger, and believes himself to be a gentleman. He is a Presbyterian, but is much dissatisfied with that form of "worship". I turned in at 9. The wind had risen to a strong gale. No chance of sleep I fear. The screw keeps on shaking fearfully, and really seems to be as much out of water as in.

Nov. 24. Hardly any sleep, as I expected. About 2 a.m. I hear sounds of making sail, and the steward informed me that the weather was clearing and that all the fore and aft sails were set. A very heavy swell was still running, which continued all day. Every now and then the ship gave a most violent lurch. I could not manage to get into the saloon for breakfast, so I had a cup of tea and some cold ham and toast in my cabin. I don't get up my appetite as I expected, but I have not been ill since Saturday. For dinner today I had soup, fish (turbot), roast duck, pudding and cheese. I had some more talk with my Scotch friend. I find he is fond of music, and has a niece who plays Beethoven's sonatas.

Nov. 25. Our eighth day out. A most lovely morning, hardly any wind and a nearly smooth sea: but I suspect there must always be some swell [83/84] on this mighty ocean. I breakfasted with good appetite in the saloon--only I could not quite stand fried tripe and onions, which was on the table. After breakfast I went on deck, and quite enjoyed myself for a couple of hours talking to the officers. The Captain has a snug little cabin just before the bridge. An immense number of gulls and divers (and diverse other birds), were swimming and flying about the ship; and, to my great satisfaction, the chief officer drew my attention to a whale spouting, about _ a mile off. He (the officer) had hardly spoken before the monster showed the whole of his enormous tail above water, and immediately disappeared. They said it was a very unusual sight, so much of him being exposed at once. We are now (11 a.m.) just over the eastern edge of the Banks of Newfoundland, a long way from the island, and not in sight of it. Lat.46.23 N. Long.47.17 W. I have made the acquaintance of a New York man, who tells me that his brother is a Lincolnshire clergyman, and he himself a ci-devant Chorister in Lichfield Cathedral. He knows the Bishop and most of the clergy of N. York. It became very cold and raw about 1, and a fog which is common on the "Banks" came over, or rather, I suppose, we entered it. Dinner at 4. A capital appetite. The passengers and officers are all very civil--but the former are not of the most refined class. There is a Swede among them. His wife (who suffers dreadfully from sea sickness) cannot speak a word of any language but her own. The Doctor (O'Connor) is a Dublin man--and believes that he speaks like an Englishman. One of the passengers is in the sugar trade apparently, and another has dealings with Nottingham. The latter is musical, and has been to a Southwell Festival. I have had some talk with a tall gentleman from Cincinnati, Ohio--who is a good Churchman, and knows why he is.

Nov. 26. I woke very early and could not get to sleep again. Turned out at 8. A beautiful morning--rather more wind than yesterday but from the right quarter E.N.E. We are going along famously, every sail drawing. If this lasts we shall be at N. York by noon on Sunday. At noon today the Captain found we had run 324 miles in the last 24 hours--one of the best runs ever made by the City of Boston. We are in Lat.44.32 N. Long.54.28 W. The glass continues steady, and people are predicting a fine run into N. York. Made a capital dinner. Towards evening the wind shifted to the S.E. and the glass began to fall, symptoms of an approaching gale. Turned in early.

Nov. 27. Many happy returns of the day to Aunt Charlotte--I hope she has got the workbox--I should like to have seen it in its completed state. A good night, but I can never sleep after 5 a.m. when deck washing begins. The wind was fair, up to 8.15 when a change took place. The wind suddenly chopped round to the Westward and began to blow hard. This is a great annoyance, we shall be delayed, and not [84/85] reach N. York before Sunday evening, at the earliest. A gale blowing all the forenoon--yet the sun is shining brilliantly. The ocean looks most lovely. The waves are of a deep transparent blue, with crests of the purest white. We are over the "Banks" and it is sensibly warmer. The run today was a good one--300 miles. We are about 600 miles from N. York. The gale increases as the day advances. At dinner it was a difficult matter to keep the glasses, etc., from falling. I have had no return of sickness, though I feel more comfortable when lying down. Many of the passengers have retired to their cabins since the gale began, and do not appear at table. I have had a sore lip which has given me much discomfort. It is yielding to Mere --. The Captain is very chatty. He promises me fine weather on my way to the Isthmus--after passing Cape Hatteras. It seems curious that I do not feel the ennui of the voyage as I expected. Turned in at 9.30, with small hopes of sleeping, on account of the incessant pitching and shaking. The screw is worse than ever.

Nov. 28. The gale continued nearly all night. Broke a little at 1 a.m. I slept scarcely at all. The rolling, pitching and shivering of the vessel were dreadful. The Captain calls this a "strong gale". Breakfasted in the saloon. The barometer which fell very rapidly before the gale, now rises as quickly. The sea is still very high, but the gale seems gradually subsiding. Run only 146 miles today. After dinner I sat writing out my journal in the saloon till past 9, when I turned in. The sea was nearly calm.

Nov. 29. Advent Sunday. It is strange indeed to be at sea today. I slept well, but woke early. It was light at 7, not sooner, which surprised me. I calculated that the Celebration at Preston would be going on from 7.30 to 8.20 a.m. during which time, I said the office for Spiritual Communion in the Manual of C.B.S. with infinite comfort. I had a walk on deck before breakfast. This morning the weather was most beautiful. The ocean quite calm, the sun shining. Fore top sail and top gallant sail set with main and fore topsail. I made a good breakfast and then arranged with the Captain to have a service in the saloon at 10.30 and another in the steerage in the evening. At 10 the men were mustered on deck and exercised in getting out the boats. Then we went to service. The saloon was crowded and very hot. It was a queer sort of service. I wore my cassock, surplice, stole and hood. Said Matins and Litany--read the Epistle and Gospel and preached for 17 minutes on the Two comings. During the service nobody thought of standing or kneeling. They seemed to consider that it was all done by deputy, i.e. me. The responses were said by a few. My yankee friend especially, who however sat through everything. They were all very attentive to the sermon, which I found I might have prolonged, as we did not take [85/86] quite an hour over the whole function, but I was afraid of wearying them. Moreover, the heat from the hot water pipes was almost insupportable. I had a good deal of talk with another Yankee, a N. Yorker, in the afternoon--a churchman. He knows Bp. Potter and Cleveland Coxe. It continued fine all day except that a little snow fell about 2. The wind has slightly freshened. The run today was 260 miles. The Pilot came on board at 2.30. A small fore and aft schooner brought him. We are to land tomorrow morning, all well. At 6, I had the service in the steerage. Before beginning evensong, I suggested to the congregation an improvement on the saloon function, viz. that they should stand at the Psalms and at the prayers, if they could not kneel. I impressed upon them that standing not sitting was the next best attitude to kneeling. They fell into my wishes very well and the result was satisfactory. After evensong I preached for 25 mins. as plainly and earnestly as I knew how. They were extremely attentive, and many of the women were visibly affected. My friend, the Lichfield choir boy, came and recited the responses very well. The sugar man I find is agent for Rimmel the perfumer--dealing in sweets of a different kind from what I had supposed. There is a Fenian agent on board--a great ruffian with a wooden leg. He is (happily) a steerage passenger. Last night he was unruly and had to be locked up. I had a Welsh rarebit for supper, and turned in about 11. Blowing fresh from the westward.

Nov. 30. S. Andrew. I turned out early. A most glorious morning. Full moon, Venus and a few stars visible. Fire Island Light on our starboard quarter. Long Island just appearing. The sun rose at 7.10 (thirty-five mins. sooner than at London) the most magnificent sight--not a cloud to be seen--the sun coming clear out of the ocean. Till breakfast time, I walked about the deck with the Captain, who was very pleasant. After breakfast, on deck again to see the American coast--Long Island--Staten Island and the entrance of the harbour, a most striking scene to me. Hundreds of Yankee Gulls were flying about the ship. They seemed to me, but it might be only fancy, to be of a more impudent and swaggering kind than ours. The Brooklyn Fire Brigade, in red shirts, and with band playing, was parading as we passed up the harbour. We anchored in quarantine for half an hour, during which time the government medical officer came on board and examined the emigrants. Then we proceeded up to our berth--anchored again, and after an hour's delay were landed in a tender. The luggage was examined at the Custom House and passed very leniently. My boxes of books were not opened. I got a letter from the Bishop of N. York inviting me most cordially to his house.* [Footnote: * Jenner had met the Bishop of New York at the 1st Lambeth Conference, in the previous year.] At the Custom House, I met [86/87] Mr. Withers who was extremely useful to me. What I should have done without him, I cannot imagine. He got my things carried to a cab and paid everybody for me. The New York cabmen are the greatest ruffians possible--there being no law of fares, each driver tries to get as much as possible out of his passenger. The drive to the Bishop's in 22nd Street is through Broadway and Fifth Avenue. The pavement is very bad, but there are splendid shops, and crowds of people. The Bishop was most kind and hospitable and so was Mrs. Potter. After lunch Mr. Withers took me out for a walk. He showed me a good deal of the City, and took me into St. Alban's Church--a mean building--with, however, a well arranged Choir and Altar--the only one I fancy in N. York. We dined at 5.30. There are two Miss Potters. The other guests were a couple of clerical cousins and a Mr. Charrington, cousin to my Chislehurst friend. The dinner was peculiar but very good. Soup, fish (cod), roast turkey, Venison steaks (Red deer). The second course and dessert were mixed up together and comprised excellent scolloped oysters, apple pie and an enormous ice cream, with which preserved ginger was handed round. I had a very pleasant evening. One of the Rev. Potters is a professor at some college in Massachussets. The other is Rector of Grace Church, N. York City, now (1889) Bp. of N. York. The Bishop takes me tomorrow to a diocesan Convention at Albany 150 miles up the Hudson. He telegraphed to the clergy that I was coming. I can hardly believe that I am in America. It seems so like a dream. I am perfectly well in health, and there is something very invigorating in the New York air. Looking back at the voyage from Liverpool, I see cause for the deepest thankfulness, for its general prosperity and comfort: and I was not a little pleased to get a few minutes of quiet recollection in S. Albans this afternoon. I heard today that the William Penn, steamer, which comes hither from London, via Havre, was very nearly wrecked in mid-ocean. She was 17 days coming from Havre, and got in on the 22nd, so we must just have escaped the storm which she encountered.

Dec. 1. I had an excellent night's rest--in a very comfortable room. Outside there was a hard frost, but the whole house is warmed, and I felt nothing of the cold. We, i.e., the Bishop of N.Y. and I, started at 12, on our journey north to Albany. We went by train. All the railway arrangements were (to me) new and curious. The "cars" all of one class--with a passage up the middle, the vendors of newspapers and periodicals, of fruit, cakes and sweets, perpetually passing through; the store at one end of the car, and the vessel of iced water at the other; the general "free and easiness", combined with perfect orderliness of everybody and everything--were some of the more striking details. The line runs along the east bank of the Hudson river, and takes us through some lovely scenery. The Indian summer is over, and the trees have [87/88] suffered as to their foliage by one or two sharp frosts. Yet, in sheltered places, the leaves still remain on many of the trees. A few miles after leaving N. York, we got a fine view of the "Palisades"--lofty granite cliffs on the west bank of the river--which spreads out into a noble reach as you approach them. In another half-hour we came in sight of the beautiful Catskill Mountains. They were just dusted over with snow; and the sun shining brilliantly on their southern slopes produced a most exquisite effect. We were very lucky in having such a fine day. The winter seems to have begun a week ago with a very sharp frost. The Hudson will soon be frozen, and the navigation stopped. As it is, there is a fringe of ice, twenty feet wide, along the banks. This must be a terrible cold catching country. The railway cars, and all the churches and houses are heated--the two latter overheated and the contrast when you go out into the frosty air is far too great. About 3 p.m. we passed West Point, the great Military College, where Grant, Lee, etc., were educated. It was dark before we reached Albany--so we missed some of the finest scenery. We went straight from the station to the house of a Mr. Meads, a lawyer here--He is most agreeable and intelligent, and takes a warm interest in Church matters.* [Footnote: * Orlando Meads was one of the most prominent of the upstate laymen who had played a part in the extended negotiations which led to the founding of the Diocese of Albany: was a member of the first standing committee, at the Convention attended by Jenner; and became an incorporator of the temporary cathedral on 27 May, 1873.] He gave us an excellent dinner, and I had a most comfortable room to sleep in.

Dec 2. At 10 this morning the Diocesan Convention was opened. We had Matins and Celebration at St. Peter's Church.+ [Footnote: + Completed in 1860 from the design of Richard Upjohn 'the Elder' (1802-1878), a leading architect of the Gothic Revival in the United States of America. It is French in feeling--136 feet long, 68 broad, 64 high with apsidal chancel.] The Bp. of N.Y. preached, and I celebrated. An enormous number of communicants. The American Liturgy is superior to ours in one respect--the oblation immediately following the consecration. In other respects it is inferior where it differs. And the variations in the ordinary offices struck me as needless, and in more cases absurd. Bishop Potter's sermon was excellent. After service quite a crowd of clergy came round me in the vestry, to thank me for giving them "so Catholic a service". I hinted that it would hardly be so described in England. At St. Peter's, the Basilican arrangement is used. I did not like it. One awkward feature of it is that the Celebrant, when standing at the Altar, has one or more clergy facing him. There was lunch at Mr. Meads after service, and at 2.30 the business of the Convention commenced. I was invited to take a seat by the President's side--During the proceedings I made a short speech in reply to an address of welcome. The great agendum of the Convention, is the election of a Bishop of Albany, which will be pro-[88/89]ceeded with tomorrow. We remained in the Church all the afternoon. The Bishop gave an address, and several speeches were made on matters preliminary to the election. We dined at Mr. Meads at 5.30, and at 8, went to a "reception", which the Bishop held at the house of a Mrs. Barnard, who entertained us magnificently. All the clerical and lay members of Convention were present. After everybody had been led up and presented to the Bishop, and to me, supper was served, the chief features of which were huge bowls of stewed oysters, boned and stuffed turkeys, and prodigious ice creams. All day long it was freezing hard, and the cold on coming out of Mrs. Barnard's house at 11 was very piercing. I was not impressed with the intellect or refinement of the members of Convention. The clergy are very inferior as a rule. The laity, rough honest fellows, with no particular manners.

Dec. 3. I went to Matins at S. Peter's at 10 after which the Convention sat. All day long the balloting went on. There were three Candidates for the Bishopric. The right man was eventually chosen--Dr. Doane, son of the late Bishop of New Jersey, and Rector of St. Peter's, Albany.* [Footnote: * See paragraph below.] He entertained us at luncheon at 1. Mrs. Doane is very nice and gave us an excellent meal. Stewed oysters, of course, in profusion. My health was drunk afterwards and the Bishop of N. York made a little speech on the "great pleasure my visit had afforded him"--"which" he said "he should remember, as long as memory remained to him". There was a long discussion in Convention on the question of the name of the new Diocese. The "Trojans" proposed Albany and Troy--but it was ultimately determined to omit the latter.+ [Footnote: [90n] + The first diocese in the American Church to be called after its See city, (op cit p.75.) The constitution of the Protestant Episcopal Church was in design closely parallel with the constitution of the United States--diocese and state were co-extensive. The first break in the tradition was in 1838 when Western New York was carved out of the old diocese of New York. New York State was one of the strongholds of the Oxford Movement and it was held that primitive usage could only be maintained by breaking up the huge dioceses characteristic of modern Anglicanism. Op cit. p. 68. Bishop Doane of New Jersey was the author of Thou are the way; by Thee alone.] I had no time to see much of the city of Albany, the Capital of the State of New York. It seems a flourishing place. The Church element is evidently strong--more so than I had expected. S. Peter's was the only Church I entered. The arrangements are what in England would have been called "advanced" 20 years ago. The apse is furnished with seats for the Bishop and Clergy. The organ, in a west gallery, is a fair one. There were a few boys in surplices outside the chancel. They behaved ill, but sang pretty well. The style of music is, however, very bad. In the south aisle are two stained windows. I surprised the clergy by attributing them to the firm (Clayton & Bell) by which they were actually executed. One of the Clergy was an old Augustinian. He knew me, he said, and recognised my voice. Another was Mr. J. H. Hopkins (son of the late Bishop of Vermont), of whom I saw a good deal.# [Footnote: [90n] # John Henry Hopkins was one of the leaders of the Catholic Party who gave Dr. Doane valuable support and advice. Dr. Doane, who became a great and successful Bishop, had a political talent which none could admire and threw Hopkins over when he had served his purpose.]

[Footnote (above): * The Revd. George E. De Mille in his excellent A History of the Diocese of Albany 1704-1923 quotes from the MS Diary of a layman, John V. L. Pruyn, in the State Library at Albany:

'Thursday, 3rd Dec (1868). There was a large attendance today and a very active outside (what in politics would be called lobby) interest in favor of the Revd. Dr. Doane of St. Peter's, who was elected on the ninth ballot--by a majority of one in the lay vote (31 to 30). There was some pretty sharp practice, and some which would have done credit! to very sagacious politicians. I did not [89n/90n] vote for Dr. Doane not objecting on personal grounds - for I esteem him highly in many respects, but for the reason that his views are extreme in Church matters (he being a very High Churchman). He is not thoroughly Protestant in his feelings He is one of those who would discard the name Protestant could he do so!'

The whole diocese had been flooded by a pamphlet setting out in detail what were considered to be Dr. Doane's many wrongdoings and his enemies at Albany now attempted to block his consecration--a procedure which would not have been unprecedented where party feelings ran high. Bishop A. C. Cox of Western New York--a High Churchman but a leader of anti-ritualism took up the movement which was seconded by Bishop Kemper of Wisconsin who addressed a questionnaire to the Bishop-elect on his ritualistic practices and doctrinal views. Doane refused to submit to an inquisition, rode out the violent storm and was consecrated at St. Peter's on February 2nd, 1869.

It was hoped at the 1st convention that since the Church of St. Peter's was an old foundation and its Rector had been appointed 1st Bishop of the Diocese, St. Peter's might become the Cathedral of the newly formed See. Dr. Doane had had a stormy career there as Rector and on May 18, 1869, he severed his connection with St. Peter's. In 1872 he made a temporary building his cathedral and introduced eucharistic lights and white vestments--In 1873 he visited England to study Cathedral administration and in 1883 a plan for a permanent cathedral was accepted. Doane, like Jenner, was anti-Roman, and both men lived long enough to see their parties advance in a manner of which they heartily disapproved and came to be regarded by them in later years as somewhat outdated and 'protestant'. Many years later Doane told his extreme clergy, 'I know you are not Papists, but you are apists!' End of footnote]

[90] Dec. 4. At 10 this morning the Bishop and I took leave of Mr. Meads, and started by train for N. York. The line was the same as that by which we travelled on Tuesday. I mention this because there is an alternative line the other side of Hudson. It was a nice bright day, freezing hard. In the neighbourhood of Albany, people were skating on the Hudson. Lower down, the river was still open. The largest place we passed was Poughkeepsie, half way between N. York and Albany. But the country is thickly sprinkled with habitations all along the line. At one point there are enormous ice depots--for the supply of New York and the neighbourhood. The snow began to fall just before we reached the city. When I got to 22nd Street (the Bishop's) I found, to my great delight, letters from home, which I took up to my room, and devoured at my leisure. We dined alone at 5.30--I went to bed very tired.

[91] Dec. 5. It snowed all night, but a thaw coming on, the snow changed to sleet, and the whole city is full of "slush" this morning. In spite of the state of the streets, I sallied forth after breakfast, and walked about four miles down Broadway. First I went into Trinity Church, the largest and oldest in the city. Here I found a Dr. Ogilvie, one of the clergy, who took me into the vestry and showed me over the Church--The altar is very poor--The pulpit has a prodigious shell-like "sounding board", with which indeed, most of the churches here are furnished. There is a most excellent organ in the W. gallery; and a man was playing extremely well. While I was in the Church, he performed the fourth of Mendelssohn's Organ Sonatas, and the first movement of the S. Anne's fugue. He tried the G. Minor at my request, but could not make much of it. From Trinity Church, I went to Mr. Wither's office. Mr. W. had a great many questions to ask about Church building and arrangement. He was amusingly grateful for the information I was able to give him, and, intend to adopt my advice in his future churches. American architects feel the want of ancient examples to study. I do not believe there is one decent building in N. York. Mr. Withers took me to a restaurant and gave me an excellent lunch at 1. Oysters and Gruyere cheese. Then I walked back to 22nd Street, along Broadway, which was crowded in spite of the weather. At 5.30 (the usual dinner hour) the Bp. and I went to dine at a Mr. Tucker's, to whom Mr. Synge had given me an introduction. We had a very pleasant evening. Just before we started for Mr. Tucker's, a telegram came from Arthur "Shall I come to you on Monday"--I answered that I was here till Wednesday and could not expect him in such weather. But he may turn up before I leave. He is at Chambly, near Montreal, a hundred miles or more from Quebec. It is well that I did not go to the latter place to seek him.

Dec. 6. 2nd Sunday in Advent. A sharp frost last night. A bright sky above--The streets all frozen snow--the air most clear and exhilarating. I was awakened at 3 this morning by cries of "fire". Presently the bells of the fire towers began to ring, the policemen to knock the pavement with their clubs, making a great noise. I got up and looked out into the street. The engines were just arriving at a house nearly opposite, from the basement windows of which flames were issuing in a rather alarming manner. I thought nothing could save the house--but in a very short time the fire was got under, the mischief being confined to the basement. The New York Fire Brigade is a most efficient body, and the arrangements for extinguishing fires are wonderfully complete. My night's rest was rather interfered with by this incident, and I was not very bright this morning. The Bishop had to go to a place some 15 miles off to hold a Confirmation. I went to Trinity Chapel for [91/92] Matins--a good sized building with an apse. The choir is fair, and surpliced, and the service reverent. There was no celebration--it had taken place at 8 a.m. I preached. After service I walked home with Miss Potter. The streets were looking very lively. Several sleighs were to be seen. At 3 I went to the Church of the Transfiguration where I preached. This is a good sized building--very irregular in plan, having been added to at various times. There is a solid white marble altar. The Bishop of Maine said the prayers--a young and rather pleasant man.

December 7. It began to snow heavily this morning at 9. Then rain from 12 till evening. The streets are in an awful state, hardly passable by pedestrians. It seems nobody's business to remove the snow and mud. Heard this morning of the accident to the City of Boston. She ran ashore in the gale on Saturday, as she was going out of harbour. I remained indoors most of the day.

December 8. A fine day, and frosty but not very cold. At one o'clock the Bp. and I went to a wedding to which we had been invited at the house of (ex) Governor Fish,* [Footnote: * The Hon. Hamilton Fish (1803-93) was the most eminent canon lawyer of the American Episcopal Church. His father was Col. Nicholas Fish, a friend of Washington and Revolutionary War Veteran. Entered Congress as a Whig in 1842, Senate 1851, joined Republican Party 1856. He tried to persuade the Republican leaders to offer concessions to the south but when war broke out he became Chairman of the Union Defense Committee, and he was later appointed one of two commissioners to investigate the state of prisoners in the South and render them assistance. In March 1869, President Grant called him to be Secretary of State. He accepted on the understanding that he would hold office for a few months but in fact stayed for eight years. He stood out as a strong and honest man in an administration which was floundering and corrupt. Whether in foreign or home affairs, in business or in the Church he had a conciliatory attitude and a wisdom that marked him out as towering above his fellows.] corner of 17th Street and 2nd Avenue: The bride was Miss Fish, the bridegroom a Capt. Benjamin. It was a very grand affair, and all the best society of New York were present. We were magnificently entertained. The breakfast surpassed anything I had ever seen--the principal element (aliment) as at all New York feasts, was the oysters. Of these there were bushels, dressed and undressed. Mountains of ice cream in every possible shape, stewed terrapins (a sort of small turtle) and wines of every known kind. There was a good band playing in the hall almost all the time. The religious ceremony took place in the drawing room. A clergyman in surplice and stole officiated. The American office is very short--Few of the company could see what was going on and as the talking never ceased for an instant, it was not easy to hear the words of the service. The rooms were as full as they could be packed. The costumes of ladies and gentlemen were rather "loud", the conversation and manners the [92/93] same. General Grant was there. I was introduced to him. He shook hands with much cordiality, but did not say much. The New York Times, in reporting the wedding, says "Most noticeable among the guests were General Grant and Bishop Dunkeddey! of New Zealand; the latter in full canonicals" by which I presume the reporter meant my "apron", and, perhaps, gaiters. We had a few guests to dinner at the Bishop's, and I spent a pleasant evening. One was Dr. Forbes, a clergyman who seemed to have dropped his profession. He was very intelligent and agreeable. I have not been able to visit the Theological college here--which I regret--I travelled from Albany with one of the Professors, whom I liked much. From what he said, I gathered that there is a rather strong "Ritualistic" party among the students which gives authorities some trouble. Arthur has not made his appearance yet.

December 9. At 7.30 I was roused by a voice at my door, announcing that "my brother had come". I was up in a moment--dressed hastily and imperfectly, and found Arthur in the drawing room. It was a delight indeed to see him again, after 12 years. He was looking well, though thin. His spirits seemed very good, and his manner and appearance very much as of old--except his long light red beard. The Bishop and his family were extremely kind to him. At 10.30 I took leave of my most hospitable entertainers. I never can forget their exceeding kindness and attention to every wish I expressed, and to many not expressed, or even formed. The Bishop is a true specimen of a Christian gentleman, if ever there was one. Arthur accompanied me to the ship, which was alongside the wharf--and I got my luggage into my stateroom with no difficulty. Mr. Withers joined us before the ship sailed and brought my pastoral staff which he had obtained from the Customs Office. Mr. W. was of the greatest possible use to me. I literally could not have done without him. I showed the P.S. to him and Arthur. It was grievous to have to part so soon from A. but there was no help for it. At 1 p.m. we cast off, and steamed down the harbour. It was very cold--a stiff breeze blowing, with snow. When we got outside the harbour there was no perceptible increase of motion, the wind being light off the land--so we are secure of having a smooth sea for the present. What a comfort! I am berthed on the quarter deck, port side, and have got a capital stateroom all to myself. The Alaska is a vessel of 5000 tons--paddlewheel--and very ugly--built on the same principle as the huge saloon ferry boats of the American rivers. At 4.30 dinner, or rather "high tea", was served. I had not much appetite, and everything was cold. I read in my cabin till 9.30 and then turned in. There are comparatively few passengers. These boats at most seasons are crowded with Californians. Before going to bed I had a look at the stars. Sirius had just risen, and with Orion looked beautiful. Jupiter [93/94] also was very bright. It was odd to see Ursa Major so near the horizon and right astern of us, our course being due South. I have been taking Petroleum (3) for sea sickness, but it was hardly required.

December 10. A most glorious morning. I could see the sun rise at 7, from my window, as I lay in bed, and a wonderful sight it was. The wind having dropped, the sea is quite smooth. I slept very well. Breakfast at 8.30. I had coffee (bad) and fish ("twice-laid") but my appetite was poor. After breakfast I walked on deck with a book for an hour--the Captain introduced himself. I had sent him a letter from Mr. Howard Potter, commending me to his care. He was extremely civil and kind, and made me free of his cabin, which is in the forward part of the ship, close to the wheelhouse (or pilot house) which in these vessels is placed nearly on the forecastle. The Captain says we are just (at 10 a.m.) off Cape Delaware, and shall pass Cape Hatteras about 2 a.m. tomorrow. When I woke this morning, I thought we must have got into the tropics, my cabin was so warm, that I opened my window. I soon found that the whole ship is heated by steam pipes. Till 12 I sat writing in the Captain's cabin. A lady was there, going to San Francisco. I found afterwards she was the wife of the manager of one of the Theatres there. We are due at Colon this day week and tomorrow we shall find the weather quite warm--so at least says the Captain. It is pleasant enough today, and by no means cold, whereas when we left N. York it was bitter. Our course lies past the Bahamas, through "Crooked Island Passage", and near the island of that name. We shall sight, also, several of the smaller of the Bahamas group. We pass between Cuba and S. Domingo and may possibly catch a glimpse of Jamaica. There is a probability of my having to spend five days on the Isthmus. It is, happily, the healthiest time-- the trades having begun, and the rains ceased. At 12 I went to lunch. Appetite improving. The sea still calm. No wind at all. At noon we were in Lat.37.1 N Long.74.24 W and 227 miles from N. York. At 4.30 dinner was served--a very different affair from yesterday's meal. Everything was well done and well served. The Captain had ordered the steward to keep me a place at his right hand--the post of honour, where I am sure of being well attended to. One thing struck me as curious, and different from what I had heard of the habits of Americans. No one drank anything but water at dinner. I felt quite ashamed of my modest bottle of Vin ordinaire. But I discovered afterwards that there is an institution on board called a "bar" where the passengers "liquor up" And the Yankees have a habit of soaking in the solitude of their own cabins! It is amusing to see the thorough organisation of the regiment of waiters--When the passengers are seated at the dinner table, a bell strikes--and immediately all the stewards form in a line near a side [94/95] table, on which the dishes have been previously placed, a second bell, and they seize each man his dish, and stand motionless as before: a third bell, and they march off to place the dishes on the dinner tables--bell again--and all the covers are simultaneously whisked off, and the serious business of eating begins. This is all repeated at the second course. After dinner I had a walk on deck. The air is sensibly milder--what wind there is comes from the South. I have been walking about without my greatcoat, nor have I felt the want of it. In about 36 hours we shall be in "warm water", i.e. the Gulf stream. The glass is falling, so we shall probably have a breeze tomorrow. I hear that it almost always blows hard off Cape Hatteras. The sailors have a rhyme, I am told by a passenger:

"If Bermuda lets you pass
Then look out for Hatteras".

that is, sailing northwards. Before turning in tonight, I looked over the stern of the ship and saw the most brilliant phosphorescence in the wake. It was like liquid fire pouring from the paddle wheels.

Dec. 11. I slept very well till 6, when I was awakened by sounds of the wind freshening. On turning out, I found that it was blowing rather hard from the N.E., a change having occurred in the night. It has been raining hard too. The Alaska cannot hoist much canvas--but what she has is set. The north-easter I suppose, prevents the air from getting warmer. I felt very comfortable all the morning, but about noon it began to blow heavily, and by 3 p.m., there was a strong gale with a tremendous sea. We got some severe shaking about, and shipped a good many seas. I sat all the afternoon in the Captain's Cabin, feeling anything but at my ease. The steward encouraged me by hinting that there was a possibility of the cabin and wheelhouse being swept into the Ocean! I could eat neither lunch or dinner. Retired to my cabin at 5.30. Told the steward to bring me a biscuit and some cheese--but he never appeared. Turned in at 9. The gale, which had broken a little at sunset, came on again with fresh violence--so that a night's rest was out of the question. We are well to the South of Hatteras, and it seems to be an unusual thing to have such weather. At noon we were about off Savannah in Georgia in Lat.32.8 N Long.74.40 W and had run 234 miles in the 24 hours.

Dec. 12. I slept very ill, but just managed to escape sickness. It was blowing a heavy gale great part of the night. During a violent squall, the wind suddenly shifted from S.E. to N.W. The consequence was that the sea got into the wildest confusion, and the ship pitched and rolled fearfully. The Captain told me this morning that if the gale had not moderated he must have brought the ship to. These ships are not [95/96] built for heavy weather. The sea continued high till 11, when I turned out. I had a biscuit first which the steward brought me in bed. I upbraided him for his perfidy last night--but he excused himself by saying that he had a bad fall on deck. I sat in my cabin reading till 1, then walked about the deck. The day was lovely--though the sea was still rough. I got up a fair appetite for dinner--a remarkably good one. After dinner, I sat reading in the Captain's Cabin. A "Colonel" Rogers came in, the editor of a Boston paper. He is a most offensive man; swears frightfully whenever he has an opportunity, and makes opportunities when none occur.

Dec. 13. 3rd Sunday in Advent. Slept very well. At 7, I said the Office of Spiritual Communion, the time answering to about 11.45 at Preston. At 10.30, I said Matins in the saloon, and preached. We sang "Luther's Hymn" after a fashion. I started, and led it, and people tried to join, but nobody seemed to know it. There was a very good attendance. I used of course the American Prayer Book. At 2.30 I had a service in the steerage under circumstances of difficulty. I said part of Evensong and preached. The people were attentive, but there was much noise from the howling of the wind and of some children. We are now well in the influence of the trade winds, a steady N.E. breeze. It is very hot--what will it be further south! There are many flying fish about.

Dec. 14. A. glorious day. We passed several islands. During the night we had to lie to, lest we should run ashore in the dark. The heat is much less oppressive than I expected.

Dec. 15. We passed Cuba in the night. At sunrise we were off the N.W. of San Domingo. The coast line is very grand, some mountain ranges appeared at intervals.

Dec. 16. The weather continues lovely. At 10.30 we passed Navassa Island (only inhabited by Guano diggers). There were two brigs at anchor--and innumerable "man of war" birds sailing about. The island where the guano is not, is covered with low palms and other trees. It looked pretty in the bright sun.

Dec. 17. At 8 p.m. today, we arrived at Colon (Aspinwall). The approach is very grand--the mountains on the South American coast particularly so. Unfortunately, it was rather hazy. The heat is great, but by no means insupportable. It was quite dark when we came alongside the wharf. A crowd of negroes on the shore made night horrible with their noise. Soon after we arrived a benevolent fellow passenger brought me a delicious banana. I did not intend to go ashore before morning but I was persuaded to alter my intention. I was only absent [96/97] from the ship for half an hour. The place seemed excessively dirty--one saw scarcely any living creatures but negroes. There was an absurd dance going on outside a grog shop. The "music" was a drum and two pieces of wood knocked together. I noticed two cocoa nut palms--splendid fellows--close to the landing place. The air was full of fireflies. I hope the mosquitoes will not find me out in the night.

Dec. 18. I was up in good time and after breakfast, went ashore. I found to my huge dismay, that someone or other had got into my cabin and stolen a pocket book containing about £40 in notes. I suspect the steward who waited upon me, the more, as he never came near me all the morning, even to receive his honorarium. The Captain, to whom I complained, also suspects this man. But there are many on board quite capable of any dishonesty or crime. Another passenger lost 200 dollars from his cabin. I got my luggage ashore with some difficulty. Mr. Martin, the vice consul here, to whom Mr. Synge had given me an introduction, came to meet me. He took me to his house, which is on the sea beach and showed me the new American Church--a very poor affair.* [Footnote: * The oldest Episcopal church in Central America, it was built by the Panama Railroad Company in 1864, and was the only building in Colon which survived the fire of 1885. The Rector was the Revd. Henry Tulledge then recently honoured by the degree of D.D. by Kenyon College of Ohio. Star & Herald, 9 October, 1869. Dr. Tulledge left Colon in November 1870 to take charge of the church at San Jose, Costa Rica. Ibid. 26 Nov. 1870.] The first thing I saw on entering was a lizard crawing up the chancel wall. The clergyman, who has been ill, tried hard to persuade me to stay at Colon over Sunday, and take his duty, while he went to Panama. But I could not see my way to remain in such a dismal hole. The chances are, too, that I should have caught the Aspinwall fever. The train left Colon at 1 o'clock. There was a great crowd to see us off, of niggers, male and female--the latter gorgeously attired. The pace was pretty good till we got within 15 miles of Panama where a stoppage occurred, through the breaking down of the return train from Panama--there being but one line of rails--We had to wait no less than three hours, the result being that we did not get in till 6.20. Thus we missed the scenery of the latter part of the route--which is said to be the finest. But it can hardly be superior to that which we did see which is beyond description beautiful. It far surpassed my utmost expectations. Such prodigality of vegetable beauty I never believed could exist. It was as if the Palm House in Kew Gardens were indefinitely repeated over the loveliest imaginable hills and valleys. But there were palms and other trees that would not stand in the Kew building, if it were raised to ten times its height. The flowering trees were specially magnificent. Such masses of blossom--gold, white, scarlet, crimson and blue--everywhere dispersed--and the wonderful butterflies of every [97/98] possible hue, and the humming birds (behaving precisely as our H.B. moth does) and to crown all, the noble Chagres river, with its steep and lofty, and profusely timbered, banks, appearing again and again, as we went on, it was almost too glorious. One longed to linger at each fresh bit of landscape, in spite of the malaria. The marshy places produced the finest and most showy displays of floral beauty. The rich orange of the Arnica Indica was here especially noticeable. I saw no monkeys, except one old fellow (who might however have been a bear), sitting in a fork of a tree. Neither did any alligators show themselves. There are plenty of wild beasts in the forests, jaguars, pumas and bears, besides snakes of various kinds. All along the line, we passed villages, of huts, at intervals--with the funniest little naked negroes running about! The grown up people were dressed, after a fashion. One village belle was got up very elaborately. She had on a loose white robe, and a wonderful kind of "berthe", low on the shoulders, of numberless flounces on layers of the purest white lace. It began to rain as we were waiting at a station; and it certainly can rain in these latitudes. I got out of the car before it began and hunted for plants--but it was not a very good place, moreover serpents are to be met with. It was curious to see the sensitive plant (mimosa pudica) growing between the sleepers of the permanent way. A woman brought a tame anteater which she tried to persuade some of the passengers to buy. Others had bananas and oranges--the latter quite green, but deliciously sweet and juicy. When I got to Panama nobody offering me hospitality, I went to the hotel in an omnibus. There was great confusion at the station. The San Francisco passengers were making a tremendous noise. I had supper, with Major Stafford and Mr. Lousada, two English gentlemen on their way to N. Zealand: I went to bed very tired. The unglazed windows and mosquito curtains were suggestive of possible inconvenience during the night but I slept well and was not disturbed--The heat however is overpowering.

Dec. 19. I awoke refreshed but too tired to get up at the discordant invitation of the cracked bells of the Cathedral opposite from which I learnt that there were two masses before 8 o'clock. The Cathedral has two western towers facing the street. It seems very much out of repair. The Bishop came out while I was dressing. He had on a white robe lined with violet, and a black cape. His hat was of white straw, with a prodigious brim turned up with green silk, and he carried in his hand a long silver mounted black cane.* [Footnote: * See paragraph below.] This hotel is comfortable enough, [98/99] quite in the French style, plus American iced drinks, which are delicious. The town itself is a great improvement on Colon, and is indeed quite equal to a third rate Spanish or Portugese city. It was too hot to do much walking about today. In the evening I dined with Mr. Henderson, the Consul, who has a house commanding the most glorious view of the bay and the Pacific. The prospect is bounded by the loveliest hills and steep green islands appear here and there. Mr. Henderson gave me a nice dinner, and then drove me in his carriage to the cemetery** [Footnote: ** See paragraph below.] which I am to consecrate on Tuesday. The ground is in bad order, but the situation is very pretty--in a lane overshadowed by trees of all kinds, which are covered with masses of creepers--a gorgeous Ipomoea was the most conspicuous of these--but most flowers get burnt up by the sun during the day the early morning is the only time to see them in perfection, I had a little adventure today--In the morning one of the waiters of the Hotel, a Jamaica mulatto, came and asked me if I was a clergyman--and being satisfied on that point, told me that a friend of his wanted her child baptized in the "Protestant faith". I told him I did not know what that might be--but promised to go and do what I supposed was required. There is no clergyman of our communion at Panama. In the evening, as Mr. Henderson and I were sitting at tea--in walked my friend the waiter, unannounced--and with a low bow informed me that "they were all ready". I said "Who are ready?" "The sponsors" replied he. "Why," I said, "I never undertook to go this evening". "Oh no" said he, "I am perfectly aware of that and I don't blame you in the least". "Don't you?" said I "I shouldn't much care if you did." However, I went with my cool friend, and he took me through a number of lanes and alleys, [99/100] and up several flights of stone stairs and along a balcony--through a window in which we entered a good sized room, well furnished, where I found a poor girl not more than 16 with a child 6 months old. After I had baptized the child, I turned the sponsors out and had a talk with the mother. I think I made some impression, for she promised to come to my Evensong next day, and kept her word. But alas! marriage is a rare thing here, comparatively. Just as I was leaving the house, the waiter made his appearance with a tray of large glasses of Champagne, each with a lump of ice floating in it and insisted on my taking one. It was one of the most delicious draughts I ever had, the night being extremely sultry, and I forgave him (the waiter) his impudence on the spot.

[Footnote from page 98: * 'Friar Eduardo Vasquez, Dominican Religious, native of Tunja, was consecrated Bishop of Panama in Bagota in the year 1853; but he could not reach his diocese until the fourth of May of 1856 due to the political disturbances which at that time were agitating the republic.' [98n/99n] (History of the Bishops of Panama), Guillermo Rojas y Aerieta (Abp. of Panama), tr. from the Spanish by T. J. McDonald C.M., Panama, 1929, p.207.)

In 1863 when the Bishop attempted to hold funeral services for an assassinated patriot who had opposed the anti-clerical dictator, Gen. Mosquera, he was arrested and banished to Peru.

"In 1865 the sentence of banishment was lifted from Bishop Snr. Vasquez; but he remained in the diocese a very short time, for he departed to Rome, called to attend the Vatican Council and died in the Holy City ... ." ibid p.211.]

[Footnote from page 99: [99n] ** This Cemetery has been known first as the Foreign Cemetery, then the British, the Protestant and now the West Indian. The two earliest burials are marked by tombs whose inscriptions read

'Beneath this stone are interred the mortal remains of Leonard Childers, one of the secretaries to the British Legation at the Congress of Panama, who died at this place of the yellow fever, July 14. 1826, aged 21 years' and

'Sacred to the memory of John James Le Mesurier whose remains lie underneath this stone. He was the third son of Thomas Le Mesurier, rector of Houghton, England. He came to this place as Secretary to Mr. Dawkins, commissioner from the King of England to the Congress at Panama. He had not been here a fortnight when he was seized with the fever of the country and died at the early age of eighteen on the 14th of June 1826'.

Little wonder that Jenner was fidgety about the fever!]

[100] Dec. 20. I went to the 9 o'clock mass when the Bishop celebrated and preached. The ritual was far from satisfactory. The music, awful. The altar has a front of solid silver carved in alto-relievo. The altar desks (2) candlesticks are also of silver. There are ambones, but they are not used. The Epistle and Gospel are said at the Altars the two desks being used for the purpose. The Bishop preached very energetically, sitting in a chair on the choir steps. There were not many present. The church here has been shamefully robbed from time to time--Whenever a revolution takes place, i.e. about every year--a fresh spoliation begins. They saved the silver altar front some years ago by painting it black!* [Footnote: * The Ven. Edwin C. Webster, Archdeacon of Colon, thinks that Bp. Jenner is confused here. The Church of San Jose, which is one block away from the Cathedral, has a famous golden altar (is pure gold leaf over carved mahogany) which was saved from Morgan's pirates in Old Panama in 1671 and transferred to its present site by the Augustinian Fathers in 1677. The same story is told, that it was saved by a coat of black paint. No silver altar now exists or is known to have existed, in the Cathedral.] I paid a visit to the Bishop at 7 this morning. I wanted to borrow his Pontifical, to help me in drawing up a service for the consecration of the cemetery. He was very courteous, and readily lent me the book. He could speak French fairly, so we got on pretty well. In the afternoon, as I was sitting (in my shirt sleeves) at work at the Consecration service, his Lordship walked in to return my visit. He was attended by a servant, who coolly sat down in the room. The Bishop and I had a long talk. I showed him my pastoral staff and gave him some information about the English Church, of which he knew next to nothing. He is, of course, a Spaniard, but has been to Paris. In the evening, at 7, I had a service in the Masonic Hall, which was well attended by people of both sexes, and all colours. I said Evensong and preached on the coming festival. I used the American P.B. hearing that the people were most used to it.

Dec. 21. St. Thomas. I finished my Consecration office, and sent it to the printer. High mass at the Cath. at 9.30. I walked about the town in the afternoon, having bought a white umbrella. It was necessary to [100/101] keep in the shade--the sun being very powerful. I heard today that the Ruahine, in which I hoped to go to Wellington, has been seized for debt, and would not be allowed to leave Panama. The general opinion, however, seems to be that the Royal Mail Co. will pay the demand, and that the Ruahine will get off as usual. The Atrato, from Southampton, has not arrived at Colon. I have determined to go on board the Ruahine tomorrow, after the Consecration. This hotel is very comfortable but the place is far from healthy--and there is always smallpox about. This morning I saw a man carried from the hotel to the Hospital. He was stricken with "Aspinwall fever" (I suppose the Aspinwall people call it "Panama fever") and died in a few hours, I heard. He was a Spanish gentleman. Mr. Henderson has been very civil and attentive. He is expecting his wife from England by the Atrato.

Dec. 22. At 4.30 p.m. Mr. Carvine the very obliging agent of the Pacific Mail Co. drove me to the cemetery. There were a good many people, black and white, large and small, assembled. The service went off very well, I thought. I wore my robes and carried my P. Staff. It was very hot work, and the mosquitoes were troublesome, and threatening, though they did not actually attack me. At 6, Mr. Carvine had provided a four oared gig to take me to the Ruahine, which was lying about 3 miles off. It was just sunset, and a lovely evening, as, indeed, all evenings seem to be here. Major Stafford and Mr. Lousada came on board with me, and returned in the boat. I steered with my usual discretion--but it was rather ticklish navigation to a stranger--and the boatmen and I not understanding each other's language, made it still more awkward. There were plenty of sharks to receive us, if the boat had upset on one of the numerous reefs. However we got safely on board, I had some supper, and was presented to Captain Beale. I cannot say I liked him. I sat talking with him on the quarter deck till 9 p.m. He amused himself and tried to amuse me by abusing everybody and everything mentioned, except Capt. Beale--He is a Sandwich man, and knows most of the residents in the neighbourhood, including the Slaters. Turned in at 10.

Dec. 23. A tedious day on board the Ruahine. Everybody looking out in vain for the signal of the Atrato's arrival at Colon. It was terribly hot, though a pleasant breeze sprung up at 3 p.m. I have a nice cabin to myself.

Dec. 24. Christmas Eve. This morning the signal was made that the Atrato had arrived. The Passengers from England will be at Panama this evening, but there is no chance of our getting off before tomorrow at noon. Whatever shall I do tomorrow! No possibility of a Celebration. The Captain scouted the idea, when I mentioned it yesterday. I never expected such a Christmas Day as this. It can't be helped--that is all that can be said. The Atrato ought to have been in on Monday. [101/102] The N. York steamer arrived last night, so that I might actually have waited another week in the States. 7 p.m. I have just been sitting on deck joining mentally in the Preston Xmas Eve services. I sat up till midnight looking at the stars--The Southern Cross being visible and thinking of the first Christmas Eve. I have been, and am, in excellent health, in spite of the heat. Everybody says the weather will become cooler very soon after we leave this. Even on the Equator there is generally a nice breeze. Certainly I should not like to stay in this bay, lovely as it is, many more days. Some of the officers are gone to a small island two miles off to gather cocoa nuts. They asked me to go with them, but the heat was too great. The live stock on board consists of a fine Newfoundland dog (Rover) who swims about the ship regardless of the sharks: a monkey who is very amusing: a cow, two Panama bullocks, and a number of fowls, ducks and turkies. The cocks begin crowing at a most unreasonable hour every morning. The Ruahine seems a comfortable ship, though she is much smaller than the City of Boston or the Alaska. I hope I shall retain possession of my cabin. There are only 25 passengers to embark and 16 of them are children. I have been very low spirited all day. It is this unnatural Christmas that causes it.

Christmas Day. 9 p.m. I woke early and have been following the Preston services all day. The Captain went ashore soon after breakfast. I had matins on the quarter deck, a very fair attendance of sailors. I preached after service for about 20 minutes. The Captain returned to dinner with the encouraging news that the mails have been seized as a security for the non-departure of the Ruahine, and the passengers are not allowed to embark. So we are here for another day at all events. What an intolerable nuisance. I was forced to do without evensong. According to the Captain, sailors don't seem to have any souls to speak of. Hence the minutest proportion of religious services is enough for them. The crew were shouting and singing uproariously, far into the night--the result, I presume of extra grog.

Dec. 26. S. Stephen's Day. Our last day at Panama, and a very hot one. It was thought that we should get off by noon--but it was midnight before the tender with the mails and passengers came alongside. I had finished my last letter, and given it to the Chief Officer to send ashore, and had gone to bed. Just as I was dropping off to sleep, the Baritone whistle of the tender roused me. This was the signal of its having left the quay, and a mighty commotion it caused on board the Ruahine. In less than a quarter of an hour the tender was alongside. They took an hour transhipping the cargo, mails and passengers and at 1.00 we weighed anchor, and steamed down the bay. It was a great relief, for, beautiful as it is, I was heartily sick of Panama.

[103] Dec. 27. Sunday, S. John. Evang. We had a large party at breakfast this morning. To my great delight I was allowed to retain undivided possession of my cabin. My immediate neighbour at breakfast, was Mrs. Morant, a widow with several girls, the youngest of whom, aged 5, is called Dora. Opposite, sat Dr. and Mrs. Turner, friends of Mrs. Morant, who have boys and girls on board. These are all bound for Nelson. For some time past they lived at Hayling Island and know the Hardy's (Mrs. Hardy was Charlotte Martin of Keston), Dr. Turner is a Glamorganshire man, and knows all about us, and everybody in the county. But the strangest thing is there being a cousin of mine on board--Arthur Lascelles--He is son of Frank L., my first cousin--Rowley's brother. We fraternized warmly after breakfast. I liked what I saw of him very much. He is going to Auckland. His wife (No. 2) and 8 children, are on their way out by sailing ship. He is a barrister, and has spent most of his life in India. Of the other passengers by the Atrato I can say little at present. One of them is a Mr. Kingscote, son of H. K. and by all accounts a brebis noire. At 10.30 I had matins and sermon on the quarter deck. Not a satisfactory service. Everybody was lounging about from beginning to end. I preached on S. John--as the Beloved, and the Teacher of Love, I could not get a second service, the ship being in confusion, and the rule (as I hinted before) being to have as little religion as possible. In the evening, Mrs. Morant and Mrs. Turner joined me at the piano, and we sang some hymns. I greatly wished I had brought the Xmas Carols. Turned in at 10--a very warm night. Ship going steadily.

Dec. 28. Holy Innocents. A most oppressive morning--a heavy swell but no wind. Everybody seemed overcome by the heat--especially the ladies. Mrs. Turner is extremely ill. I could not eat much breakfast, or any lunch, but at dinner I did better. At noon today we were in Lat.4.2 N Long.83 W. Tomorrow night we hope to cross the Equator. I suffered from extreme languor all day long; and in the evening, lying down on my cabin sofa, I fell asleep, and it was midnight before I woke! The officers are civil and obliging, but the Captain is very difficult to get on with. His manners are brusque and coarse, and one has to be very careful in speaking to him, lest he should take offence. The day before I came on board, one of the sailors having drunk too much, chose! to jump overboard. He swam about a mile from the ship, and was with difficulty picked up. The sharks missed a fine opportunity. The following day another man being seized with the "Aspinwall fever", became delirious and was only prevented from imitating his messmate's example by being put in irons. This man had run away from an American ship on the Atlantic side, and had walked across the Isthmus, sleeping in the villages, and catching the fever as a matter of course.

[104] Dec. 29. (noon) Lat.l°31' N Long.84°4' W. Distance run from noon yesterday--192 miles. A most lovely day, a nice breeze making the temperature quite bearable. It is curious to feel it cooler as we approach the equator--yet so it is. There is a considerable swell today, but it has no effect on me. I have not had a good appetite since we left Panama. I don't like the cooking. The meat is dreadfully tough, and no wonder, since in this climate they are obliged to cook it as soon as it is killed. The entrees, considering the cook gets £120 a year, and all found, are very inferior. We have had strong currents against us, which accounts for the shortness of the run.

Dec. 30. Lat.0°32' S Long.84.W. Run 199 miles. Another short run, owing again to the currents. We crossed the line early this morning. There was no ceremonial on the occasion. The day is beautifully cool--the thermometer is only at 75° in the shade, and a delightful breeze is blowing. This state of things just on the Equator was, by me at least, quite unlooked for. The ship has been carrying her trysails today and yesterday, which makes the heavy swell, which still continues, less unpleasant. In the afternoon, between lunch and dinner, the heavy time of the day, I got Mrs. Morant's children together, and told them the story of "Alice", as well as I could recollect it. I had a better appetite today. The sailor who was ill at Panama is getting worse. I begged the doctor to let me see him. He told me the man was delirious, but promised to call me if he regained his consciousness. I fear he is sinking, yet he eats well and his pulse is not weak.

Dec. 31. Lat.2.40 S Long.84.20 W. Run 220 miles. A better run; and now we are out of the adverse currents, we shall get on faster. The weather all day has been most delightful. A steady breeze on our port beam made the temperature cool and pleasant, besides sending the ship along bravely. I have had a bath nearly every morning since I came on board, but the sea is getting so salt that I shall have to leave off. I have no reason, however, to complain of this Pacific Ocean, which seems to me well to deserve its name. The passengers and officers are talking of getting up a concert next week, but they do not seem to know much about such matters. The sick sailor is no better today. He is in a state of lethargy, and takes no notice of anyone, even when spoken to. I found today that Major Stafford is an intimate friend of Herbert Nepean, and has been to the Cloisters. We saw a quantity of stormy petrels today. Not a sail of any kind has been seen since we have been out--though one day we nearly went over a large spar belonging to a wrecked or dismasted ship. Last night we passed the Gallipagos islands.

[105] 1869

Jan. 1. Circumcision. A happy New Year to all my precious ones. The year began well. The morning was magnificent. The wind being fair and fresh, every sail was set. A good run today--252 miles. Lat.5°9 ' S Long. 92 W. There is a huge swell--The bright sun makes the ocean lovely. I got one of my boxes up from the hold today, and extracted my desk together with the photos of Preston Vicarage, over which I gloated in my cabin. The sailor died today, never having regained consciousness. At 8 p.m. I buried him. It was a very impressive service: and the officers and crew were evidently touched by it. It took place at the lee gangway--The night was very dark and there was a stiff breeze blowing. The only light was a single lantern near me. The body was as usual covered with the Union Jack. The wind has been fair all day, and every stitch of canvas is set. Flying fish have been very abundant.

Jan. 2. Lat.7°19 ' S Long. 96.44 W. Run 257 miles. The day is beautifully fine though there is still a heavy swell. A good many birds about the ship. My appetite is very poor today, and I had some symptoms of a sore throat, a complaint that has been prevalent in the ship lately. I took Merc. and Bell. alternately which effected a cure. The temperature is now much lower than when we left Panama. But nothing can be more delightful than the weather. It is "summer" this side of the Equator, whereas at Panama it was "winter".

Jan. 3. 2nd Sunday after Xmas. My darling Mildred's birthday, God bless her. I began to think of it last night when I went to bed, there being nearly 7 hours difference of time between this and Preston. We had Matins and Sermon in the saloon at 10.30. I preached a New Year's sermon, and referred to the death of the sailor last Friday. There was a good attendance of passengers and sailors. We had a good run the last 24 hours, 272 miles. Lat. 9°34'S Long. 100.41 W. At 7.30, I had Evensong and Sermon in the fore saloon--a fair muster but not so many sailors as I had hoped. A better appetite today. We have had oranges and fine apples daily as dessert--a great treat. Several "Boatswain birds" have been seen today. They are white above and pinkish below--their tail feathers are very beautiful and valuable--each bird has but one white and scarlet. The natives of Opara use them as ornaments.

Jan. 4. Run 286 miles. Lat.ll°5' S. Long.104.34 W. A shorter run than we ought to have made, but the Chief officer tells me the engines have been "priming" i.e. water getting in where steam should be--a result of the swell. Another glorious day. The wind is just where it was--indeed, we have not altered a sail for five days. The colour of the water is most exquisite. We had a few fried flying fish for breakfast, [105/106] and very nice they were. They come on board in the dark, attracted by the ship's lights. When I went on deck this morning I found that a gull had just lighted on the skylight: being unable to rise, one of the men threw him into the air, when he flew away as if nothing had happened. The Captain thinks we shall get to Wellington by the 24th. A weary time, this, yet I think it passes more quickly than I expected. The Captain is rather more amiable than he was. He is never tired of talking about Sandwich and the neighbourhood, and he romances not a little in relating his youthful exploits. This afternoon he pointed out to me what he called a young waterspout, hanging like a jelly bag to the clouds. We are quite out of the track of other ships--Indeed no sailing vessel would take this route on account of the adverse currents.

Jan. 5. Lat. 13°34' S Long. 108°30" W. Run 258 miles. In the night the wind got more aft--and the main trysail was furled--which caused the ship to lose way. It became much warmer, also immense shoals of flying fish seen today. I had a sad disaster this morning. I was sitting reading in my cabin with the port open, when in came a sea and flooded the whole cabin. I was wetted to the skin and had to change everything--My desk was half filled with water--so was the Past. Staff box, and even the tin robecase did not wholly escape. The cabin floor was 6 inches deep in water. The "concert" came off this evening--a very poor affair. I listened on the quarter deck and heard quite enough through the saloon skylights.

Jan. 6. Epiphany. Lat.l5°28' S. Long.ll2°8' W. Run 240 miles. The recollection of this day as it used to be, compared with what it is, did not tend to raise my spirits. After breakfast, I sat at the piano, and sang, by myself, all the dear old Epiphany hymns. The vane of Preston Church, as we used to see it on our way to Matins on this day, shining in the sunlight, and reminding us of the Star--came constantly into my thoughts. There is very little wind today and the ship rolls heavily. Some of the passengers are playing at sea-quoits, the quoits being rings of 2 inch rope which they pitch, or try to pitch, into a bucket. In the evening, I had a little talk with A. Lascelles, (whom everybody call Mr. La sells). He seems an agreeable and well-informed man, and well up in Law. The Southern Cross was not to be seen at 10.30--the horizon being cloudy. The Magellanic Nebulae I saw for the first time, tonight. They are like splashes of the Milky Way.

Jan. 7. Lat.l7°14' S Long.ll5°51 ' W. Run-239 miles. A splendid day--no wind to speak of, so we roll a good deal and it is very hot. We are to arrive at Opara it is hoped, this day week and remain there 12 hours. I had a long talk with Mr. Elliot the mail agent today. He tells me that Captain Beal is anything but popular on board and that I am by no means the first passenger that has complained of his manners. It [106/107] seems that some of the officers overheard a conversation between him and me on the evening of Dec. 23, while we were at anchor at Panama. The Captain after his manner was abusing one public character after another, till at last I could stand it no longer, so I wished him good night, saying that it was "much too near Christmas for anymore evil-speaking". The officers enjoyed the incident extremely. I had a good view of the Southern Cross tonight. It is not to be compared with Orion.

Jan. 8. Lat.l9°7 ' S Long.ll9°45' W. Run 249 miles. The ship rolls more than ever. My night's rest was disturbed in consequence. The sun at noon is nearly if not quite vertical. It is curious to see people's shadows scarcely projecting beyond their feet. At 11, this morning there was a sharp squall of rain and wind. It did not last fifteen minutes--but the downfall was tremendous. Several waterspouts seemed to be forming. It was deliciously cool after the rain, and the wind freshened nicely. This afternoon A. Lascelles related to me certain encounters with tigers in India. One of his hands is badly disfigured by the teeth of one. Mr. Loftie, the chief officer, gave me today a pair of wings of a flying fish, which are very pretty.

Jan. 9. Lat.20°58' S Long.l23°54' W. Run 243 miles. A very heavy squall of rain this morning at 8. In the evening, I made the acquaintance of Dr. Guntz, a passenger on his way to Melbourne--I knew before that he was a medical man, but he surprised me by mentioning his friend Dr. Fischer of Dunedin, a homoeopathic physician--I asked him how he dared call such a one his friend, when he told me that he was himself a Homoeopathic physician--so we fraternised immensely. He is a Dutchman--very intelligent, and seems to have a large practice at Melbourne. The wind freshened a little at night--Fore and aft sails set.

Jan. 10. First Sunday after Epiphany. Lat.22°46' S Long.l27°25 ' W. Run 240 miles. More than half way from Panama to Wellington. A glorious day. The wind has dropped again, yet there is much less rolling. I had Matins and sermon in the saloon at 10.30. I preached on the visit of the Magi. Very warm all day. 6.30 p.m. A terrible incident has just occurred. I was walking on the quarter deck, when two sailors came running aft crying out "a man overboard". The engines were stopped, a life buoy thrown over the side, and a boat lowered, in an incredibly short span of time. A man was sent to the mast head to look out for the poor fellow, who would be a long way astern. Alas! nothing could be seen of him, and the boat, after an hour's absence returned. It was supposed that the screw struck him, for he never seems to have risen to the surface at all. It was a most sad case. There is little doubt [107/108] that the man was insane, (for he threw himself overboard). He was the oldest sailor in the ship, which he joined at Sydney on the last voyage. He had been behaving in an extraordinary manner several times--refusing to work and insisting on being put ashore at Panama. Yet he was a sober man. He had been at the service in the morning, though it was noticed that he left before the end. The affair quite overcame me--I had Evensong and Sermon at 7.45--but I was not fit for much. (I find that the life buoy is of use not only as a support in the water, but also to indicate the situation of the drowning man, the buoy being of course carried in the same direction).

Jan. 11. Lat.24°32' S Long.131.19 W. Run 239 miles. A better run than was anticipated, considering the time that was lost yesterday evening. We are now out of the tropics--yet the heat is still intense--We passed, without seeing it, a small coral island, or reef--Oneo-Pitcairn's Island--50 miles to the South--would have been visible, had the atmosphere been clearer.

Jan. 12. Lat.25°36' S Long.l35°41' W. Run 246 miles. A thick cloudy day. The air saturated with moisture--everything sticky and damp. Nothing happened worth recording It is a fortnight since I tasted beer or wine. I am not certain whether it is good for me to go without. In the evening I felt unwell and turned in early.

Jan. 13. Lat.26°39' S Long.l40°17' W. Run 256 miles. I was not at all well today. I could eat scarcely anything. Feverish symptoms set in, which increased towards evening with extreme debility. It was just like one of my old rheumatic attacks, without the pains. I took Nax V and Aconite. I turned in at 9--but was kept awake by the incessant and noisy, and occasionally profane talk of Mr. Kingscote, and some of the younger passengers who chose to take up a position in the saloon close to my cabin. There was a change of weather today. About 2 p.m. it began to blow heavily and by sunset there was a strong gale, with a tremendous sea. The ship was hove to for 17 hours, during which time we went astern considerably. The Captain, coming down in the saloon during the evening, I ventured very respectfully to ask him whether the ship was lying to. He replied in offensively rude terms. What a bear the man is!

Jan. 14. I was very ill and weak when I awoke this morning. Not a sign of sea sickness however. I had a cup of tea in bed, and a bit of toast. I could not get up--indeed it was all I could do to lift my head off the pillow so I stopped in bed until one, when I managed to turn out and dress by slow degrees. I had a cup of broth, and was better in the afternoon. Dr. Guntz gave me some Arsenicum. Dr. Turner advised quinine, which I respectfully declined. A very poor run today--38 [108/109] miles. Lat.26° S Long. [missing]. We began to go ahead at 6.30 this morning. Wind all day S.W. (a stiff breeze) and therefore nice and cool, but dead against us. We were, at noon, 207 miles from Opara, which we ought to have made today. All being well we shall get there by 2 p.m. tomorrow. It seems to be the general opinion that the Captain ought to have gone on, instead of lying to, and that he will get unmercifully "chaffed" about it at Wellington.

Jan. 15. Lat.27°39 ' S Long.l43°4' W. Run 143 miles. The wind continues very high, and a tremendous sea is running. We are only doing about 6 knots. At 11.30, the officers made out a tall rock, far away to the South, which proved to be one of a group called the Four Crowns (also called Bass Island). At 3.30 Opara was sighted and rapidly became very plain--right ahead of us. By 5, we could make out the coast outlines--which are very bold and irregular. An attempt was made to get into the harbour before nightfall, but it would not do. The channel is very narrow and intricate, with coral reefs on each side, on which account it can only be entered by daylight. We were abreast of the island by sunset and shall have to stand on and off till 5a.m. and then go in. We shall begin coaling directly and it is hoped that we shall get off again tomorrow evening. The quarter deck has been in a state of coal dust all day, the men having been at work getting up coals from the aftermost bunkers. Everybody is dirty and uncomfortable. It will be worse, I fancy, tomorrow. I had some conversation today with a Mr. Stuart, a Scotchman, who is going to Auckland, and has property in Otago. I believe we are to have a French Naval Officer on board to dinner tomorrow. He is governor of this wonderful island (which has also a king, and a population of 130). Opara (or Rapa) was not originally one of the regular coaling stations of this company: but a reserve of coal was kept, in case any of the ships should exceed their ordinary consumption, and be in danger of running short before reaching Wellington. Now, all the ships call here, much to the disgust of the Officers. I am not sorry to see the island, though it will delay us at least 48 hours. I have been much better today, though my appetite does not return. I mean to keep Capt. Beal at arm's length. I have had no communication with him since his intolerable rudeness the other night.

Jan. 16. We got alongside the coaling hulk at 7 a.m. The passage from the open sea is short, but extremely intricate and dangerous from the coral shoals. Most lovely is the landlocked harbour. Such magnificent green hills, with deep indentations, and ravines. Rocks project everywhere, and, at the head of the harbour, a conglomeration of round topped eminences, gives the impression that a general boiling up of the earth had taken place, followed by a rapid cooling, before any subsi-[109/110]dence could occur, indeed the whole island is volcanic, and the harbour itself has the appearance of having once been a crater. Large flocks of wild goats were feeding on the hillsides. We began coaling at 9, before which time many boats and "catamarans" came alongside. First, a soldier in full uniform, being the French army of occupation. Then, numbers of natives with bananas, cabbages, flowers, calabashes, and magnificent pieces of coral like enormous mushrooms, for sale. They all came on deck, and it was amusing to hear the officers and men talking to them. They, of course, understood not a word of what was said--but they grinned good humouredly, and showed their teeth. Many of them are tall and good looking--colour dark brown. Before these ships began to call here, i.e. about two years ago, the natives knew nothing of money, and attached no value to it. But now they are the keenest of traders, and will sell nothing under a shilling. About 8 a.m. the sharks began to gather round the ship. Some passengers got out a salmon line! on a reel, and baited some gimp hooks with beef. A shark laid hold of one, and snapped the line in a moment. Major Stafford shot at another without effect, but a young shark without experience, cruising round the gangway in an impudent manner, a cunning quartermaster watching his opportunity slipped down the ladder and laid hold of the fast young gentleman's tail. He was very soon flapping about on the deck in great disgust. At 10, a boat was sent ashore with a large party of passengers--myself among the number. The doctor (of the Ruahine) was good enough to accompany me in a ramble about the island. We climbed nearly to the top of one mountain, but my late indisposition had left me very weak, and I could not finish the ascent. There were some awkward places to get over, but we met with no accident. We followed a track along the hill-side, hoping it would take us to a fine piece of rocky ground overlooking the harbour, but a swampy place (planted with yams) intervening, we had to change our route. And now we found the descent to the shore--through an almost impenetrable mass of grass and reeds, as tall as a man, and an undergrowth of all kinds of creepers, etc.--a good deal more than we had bargained for. It was really tremendous work, and took us a long time. The grass cuts like a knife and my fingers were soon bleeding. We overcame all obstacles at last, and reaching the beach, I strolled along hunting for coral and stones, and so made my way to the landing place, whither my companion had preceded me. The chief plants that we met with were a verbena-like weed, which grows everywhere, a lovely Ipomoea, large, blue and sweet scented. A yellow Oxalis and ferns without end, all new to me. The most striking was a magnificent one like Hart's tongue, but an asplenum not a Scotopendrum: with fronds three feet long, and three inches wide, bright green, with a nearly black rachis. There were of course a good [110/111] many other plants, but very few in flower. The trees are low and insignificant. There is a plantain, and a nut bearing tree called candle nut; also a few oranges, whose fruit is not worth much; and a tree bearing splendid yellowish white flowers, resembling Stephanotis--and with as delicious a fragrance. These are used by the natives, men and women, as ornaments. They wear them round their necks, or stuck through their ears in which large holes are pierced. Before returning to the ship, I called at what we chose to designate the "Palace"--a low, one roomed house, thatched with plantain leaves. The King was in the garden, digging without his coat. He shook hands with us with much affability. The Queen had a baby a few days old. We were introduced to her, and to the young "princes" and "princesses". They are all dark, but by no means black. This "nation" is rapidly dwindling away. The total population--including the last royal baby is 129. The only religious teaching they have had appears to have been from the London Missionary Society. There is a building which they call the Church, where the King officiates. I felt uncommonly helpless among them. Their language resembles the Maori--at least Mr. Walton, one of the passengers, who spoke Maori, was able to make himself understood. The French commandant came and dined on board. He is a lieutenant in the Imperial Navy, and was sent here from Tahiti, as soon as the island began to be frequented by English ships. I suppose he will go back again when this Company collapses. He is a Breton, and has a wife and family in France. Poor man! There are letters for him in the mail which we brought, but he dare not open them--they must go to Tahiti, and be sent back again in a sailing vessel which runs at irregular intervals between the two islands. I sat writing in the saloon most part of the evening. Card playing was going on all round me. The language of the players was not always pleasant to hear. The coaling was finished by 9 p.m. but we cannot sail before daylight. An agreeable discovery was made today. The last ship from Panama had two cases of smallpox on board when she arrived here, and three others broke out before she left, in spite of which her passengers were allowed to go ashore. Now had the disease gained a footing among the natives, it must have extirpated the whole nation; for (1) contagious fevers always assume a most malignant type among such people (2) vaccination is unknown (3) they have no medical man. Measles, some years ago, destroyed two thirds of the population of Opara--Well: the Kaikoura: arriving at Wellington, with smallpox on board, would of course be put into quarantine, and equally of course, we shall be refused pratique, coming from Panama, where the smallpox was shipped by the Kaikoura--However, everybody says that with our clean bill of health, we cannot be detained more than 24 hours. One thing there seems no doubt about--that this business will give the coup de grace to [111/112] the P.N.Z. and A.R.M. Co. even if its hopeless embarrassments allowed it to survive. It is extremely satisfactory to learn that hither to not a single case of smallpox or cholera has appeared either in N. Zealand or Australia. I found an old Portugese from the Cape de Vera islands at Opara. He had been left, ill, years ago, by a whaler. I tried to converse with him in his native tongue, but he seemed to have forgotten it, or perhaps I had. I got terribly scorched today on my neck, etc.

Jan 17. 2nd S. after Epiphany. When I woke this morning, my neck felt as if someone had been trying in the night to cut off my head with a blunt saw, and had partially succeeded. We got under weigh by 6.30 a.m. Directly we were running clear of the island we found a remarkably nasty sea running. The wind being fresh and fair, we went along at a good pace, (for the Ruahine) but there was a good deal more pitching and rolling than I liked. Indeed I was nearer being seasick than I had been since the City of Boston days. No service, alas! today. I could hardly lift my head off the pillow. I had a cup of broth for lunch, and a slice of mutton for dinner with some fresh cabbage, a great treat.

Jan. 18. Lat.29°39' S Long.l49°29' W. Run 246 miles. A very fine day--The wind much less fresh, and the sea smoother. I was not up for breakfast, feeling very weak. My breathing also was much oppressed. I rose at 11 and had some broth, then I went on deck. The debility and oppression continuing, I thought I would ask Dr. Guntz what I ought to take and he gave me some Phosphorous, and told me by all means to take wine or ale daily. I fear I must admit that the experiment I have been trying, to do without either, has proved a failure. I was better in the afternoon and made a good dinner.

Jan. 19. Lat.31°14' S Long.l53°48' W. Run 247 miles. A delightful day and much warmer (it had been quite cool the last day or two). The wind is right aft. It died away altogether in the afternoon. I am very much better today. The first Albatross was seen this morning. They are never found in the tropics, the doctor tells me that their great breeding ground is in the Auckland Islands. Last night there was very nearly being another case like that of the 10th. The sailor who had already given trouble by jumping overboard at Panama, got too much grog, and became quite insane. He ran up the rigging, and out to the end of the main trysail yard, and was hardly prevented from leaping off into the sea. He made a tremendous noise, but was finally ironed. While we were coaling on Saturday night, a man fell overboard and was rescued with the utmost difficulty.

Jan. 20. Lat.32°50' S Long.l57°59' W. Run 233 miles. A by no means good run considering the weather which has been magnificent during the last 48 hours. The wind however has been very light. I con-[112/113]sider myself off the sick list now--I intend to take good brisk walks every day. I am sure the want of exercise is injurious to me. Nothing to record. The night was glorious--the stars very brilliant.

Jan. 21. Lat.34°47' S Long.l72°16' W. Run 231 miles. We are now about the latitude of the northern part of N. Zealand. The weather continues most lovely, and the temperature is as near perfection as possible. The wind freshened up in the morning but subsided again in the afternoon.

Jan. 22. Lat.35°46'S Long. 166°20' W. Run 219 miles. Heavy showers of rain at noon. It was quite cold in the evening.

Jan. 23. Lat.37°10' S Long.l70°52' W. Run 232 miles. Nothing to record.

Jan. 24. Sunday (Septuagesima). Lat.38°43 ' S Long.l75°18 ' W. Run 228 miles. A nice day with a fresh breeze. Matins sermon at 10.30. No evensong, Captain Beal rudely responding to a message I sent him requesting the use of the saloon. More than one passenger intends to complain of the gross incivility of the Captain.

Jan. 25. Conversion of S. Paul. Today be it observed is Monday. Lat.40°12 ' S Long.l79°47 ' W. Tomorrow (which will be Wednesday the 27th, as we shall have got into East Longitude) We hope to see land.

Jan. 27. No Tuesday this week, and no 26th this month. I came on deck at 7.20 when the N. Zealand coast, just north of Cape Palliser, was plainly visible. Most interesting to me was the sight. The coast is very grand; full of wonderful "effects" of light and shade. We soon came near enough to make out the vegetation--great masses of fern and scrub, a few huts here and there, and several bush fires, but not a human or other being to be seen till we got into Wellington Harbour. We dropped anchor at about 4 p.m. and then went to dinner. The first news we heard was that there had been terrible doings at Poverty Bay and elsewhere, on the part of the Maories. Then the final collapse of the P.N.Z. and A.R.M.S. Co. was announced. There will be no more mails that way. At 5, Mr. Prendergast, Attorney general of N.Z. came on board, and brought me a packet of papers from Mr. Edwards, which I took down to my cabin and read. I am requested, it seems by the Gen. Synod, to resign my claim to the See of Dunedin, for the sake of the "peace of the Church".* [Footnote: * See paragraphs below.] Most unfair this, to lay such a responsibility on me! I certainly never anticipated such action as this, on the part of the Synod. Probably I should have acquiesced, if I had not left England before it reached me, but now--well I can only hope and trust that I shall be guided to a right course. Bp. Selwyn has written a letter [113/114] entreating the Dunedin Churchmen to receive me as their Bishop, and this justifies me in postponing my decision till I have visited the diocese.+ [Footnote: + See paragraphs below.] I went ashore with Archdn. Hadfield and the Rev. Mr. Ewald, who came off to see me. The latter is a friend of W. Clarkes, and was Mr. Churton's curate. I drank tea with the Archdn. and slept at Mr. Ewald's. I had much talk about my affairs. Wellington is a straggling place All the houses are of wood, on account of the prevalence of earthquakes. The harbour is very beautiful, the surrounding hills lofty and bold. The wind here is terrific. The Phoebe to Port Chalmers sails tomorrow, at 3 p.m., weather permitting. The Bp. of Christchurch asks me by telegraph to stop there on my way south. I replied, begging him to meet me at Lyttelton.

[Footnote above: [114n] * This was the Fourth General Synod--the last to be presided over by Bp. Selwyn as Metropolitan. His successor, The Bishop of Christchurch, was to be known as The Primate. The Editor of The Guardian (Feb 3, 1869, p.117) eulogises the Synod and hopes that Bp. Suter will have learnt from his colleagues how better to behave before the Fifth Synod. They have enjoyed 'the wholesome influence which has been influenced by the discipline of self-government . . . They show a readiness to appreciate facts, and an anxiety to deal with them in a sensible and practical fashion, which contrasts not unfavourably with the windy debates on obsolete phrases and unrelenting party watch-loads to which he may have sometimes listened in deliberations, whether of clergy or laity, at home.' It is clear from Selwyn's address that he was equally pleased with the Synod. 'If we do not think together, at least we have been able to act together. Our Synodical meetings, guided by the Spirit of Counsel, have saved us from the eccentricities of individual zeal.' After all this one is dumbfounded to read that, when the Synod came to consider the report on 'the Ecclesiastical arrangement proposed for that part of the Diocese of Christchurch which is included within the Rural Deanery of Otago and Southland,' it was moved by the Bishop of Christchurch seconded by Mr. Martin:--

"That the appointment of Bishop Jenner to the See of Dunedin be not confirmed by the Synod" (Proceedings pp.44-5)

The Hon. Col. Kenny seconded by Mr. Beckham moved an amendment--

"That inasmuch as the sum raised towards the Endowment Fund of the proposed Diocese of Dunedin is totally inadequate to the support of a Bishop--"
1. 'That the Synod does not see the way open, at present, to the completion of the Ecclesiastical arrangement in connection with the proposed Diocese of Dunedin.'
2. 'That the Rural Deanery of Otago and Southland be formed into a Diocese, to be administered provisionally by the Bishop of Christchurch.'

There followed a prolonged discussion, and then a second amendment to the Bishop of Christchurch's motion was proposed by the Rev. S. Blackburn and seconded by the Rev. S. Lush--

'That this Synod, having carefully taken into consideration all the circumstances in connexion with the See of Dunedin, is unable, in the present state of the question, to find any sufficient ground for with-holding its recognition of the appointment of Bishop Jenner, but while acknowledging the appointment, and declaring that it shall be competent for Dr. Jenner to enter upon the duties of his Office, the Synod would urge upon Bishop Jenner the expediency of his resigning the Bishopric, on the ground of the difficulties experienced in obtaining an adequate endowment.'

[115n] This motion was negatived after some discussion and the Synod resumed the discussion on Colonel Kenny's amendment. Mr. Lush asked that it should be divided and section 1 only was put--

   Ayes Noes
 Bishops  4  2
 Clergy  5  12
 Laity  8  12

Permission was given for Col. Kenny to withdraw Resolution 2 and the Synod adjourned for half an hour. One would give something to know of what went on in that fateful interval. The Primate-elect must surely have trembled for his cause! On resuming, his son, Archdeacon Harper, moved and the Dean of Christchurch seconded an amendment--

'That whereas the General Synod is of opinion that it is better for the peace of the Church that Bishop Jenner should not take charge of the Bishopric of Dunedin:--This Synod hereby requests him to withdraw his claim to that position.' Carried

So the Bishop of Christchurch triumphed and crowned his efforts by moving

'That the foregoing Resolution be communicated to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Christchurch and Bishop Jenner, and the Rural Deanery Board of Otago and Southland.'

As disgraceful a set of proceedings, it might be thought, as has ever darkened the deliberations of a Synod. According to Selwyn's biographer Rev. H. W. Tucker--Vol. II pp.225/6 'that Prelate thus liberated his own soul.'

"The facts alleged in the report of the Committee are founded very much on evidence that would not be admitted in a court of law. Three years ago Bishop Jenner signed a declaration, assenting to the provisions of our Church Constitution. He consented to be bound by the regulations passed from time to time, or to be issued by the General Synod. He has also undertaken to resign his appointment, together with all rights and emoluments appertaining thereto, when the General Synod may call upon him to do so, or any one duly appointed to do so. That declaration was received in New Zealand, and entered upon the minutes of the Standing Commission of the General Synod, in June, 1866. There was an interval from that date until the consecration of Dr. Jenner in August, 1866, which gave time to interpose objections if any one had chosen; and, if any valid objections had been made, the Standing Commission would have considered it to be its duty to recommend the Archbishop of Canterbury to stay his hand. The first proceedings began in April, 1867. nine months after the consecration. I look upon this action of the Committee as amounting to an attempt to depose Bishop Jenner. Dr. Jenner was consecrated with as much formality as I was myself consecrated. The Standing Commission is the proper tribunal to which this matter should be properly referred, as it has been specially appointed to deal with such questions, and consists for the most part of legal gentlemen; and if any of the friends of Dr. Jenner thought it necessary, they will have a perfect right to appeal to its decision. The sufficiency or otherwise of the endowment fund seems to be the question on which the present Committee has come to a decision; and if, therefore, at any time the endowment becomes adequate, it may be competent to enter as a plaintiff on behalf of Dr. Jenner." End of footnote.]

[Footnote above: [115n] + After a long statement of admitted facts, the letter went on to say:

'I feel, therefore, that nothing has been proved by any opponent of Bishop Jenner, which ought to debar him from entering upon the duties of his office, whenever a sufficient income, clear of all incumbrances, can be supplied. In consideration of being appointed Bishop of Dunedin, he has signed a general declaration of obedience to the laws of the General Synod. He has further stated his willingness to be bound by that promise, as applicable to the question of Ritual, on which objections have been raised against him. His statements to that effect have already been accepted by many, who, before the arrival of his letters, had opposed the appointment. The Constitution to which he thus submits himself was framed to protect as well as to restrain the office-bearers of the Church. The Constitution requires that all grave charges against any office-bearer shall be referred to a tribunal. In this case there have been no tribunal, no charges, no evidence, no respondent, and no opportunity of defence. All the objections alleged in the Report of the Committee relate to pecuniary difficulties, which may be removed at any time by the united action of Bishop Jenner's friends in England and in New Zealand.

[116n] In the absence of any definite charge or insuperable difficulty, such as ought to exclude Dr. Jenner from the Bishopric of Dunedin, we all concurred in the request that for the sake of the peace of the Church he would resign his claim. But this argument of peace has a double aspect. Bishop Jenner may claim of his opponents with greater justice that, for the sake of the peace of the Church, they should withdraw their opposition. If he has done anything unlawful according to the law of the Church in England, let it be proved. That he will do nothing against the laws of the Church in New Zealand, we have his own solemn promise, which we are bound to believe. Any breach of that promise (it is scarcely necessary to add) by his own written covenant, would make him liable to the forfeiture of his Bishopric. For his sake then, and for the sake of the Synod, and for the sake of the peace of the church. I do most earnestly entreat my dear friends and brethren in the Rural Deanery of Otago and Southland to withdraw their opposition, and to accept Dr. Jenner as their Bishop. This way of peace is more complete than the other, because it will bring to an end all controversial discussions, and will obviate the necessity of electing another Bishop; and above all, because it will shew that we have confidence in the power of our Synodical system to restrain those eccentricities of private zeal, which have disturbed the peace of the Church at Home.

I remain, my dear brethren, your affectionate friend and pastor,
G.A. LICHFIELD AND N. ZEALAND End of footnote]

[116] Jan. 28. I hardly slept at all on account of the worry. My brain was in a state of utter confusion all night. After breakfast I took a walk with Mr. Ewald--(As soon as I opened my window in the morning, I heard the sustained stridulous noise which I took to be from a ropewalk close at hand. I found afterwards that it was caused by a cicada of some sort.) I called on the Governor, Sir Geo. Bowen.* [Footnote: * Sir George Ferguson Bowen (1821-1899) was first Governor of Queensland 1859 and appointed Governor of New Zealand, 1867 (Sir George Grey having defied the Colonial Office once too often) and pursued a successful policy of conciliation with the Maoris and settlers. Governor of Victoria 1872, Mauritius, 1879, Hong Kong, 1882, Privy Councillor 1886.] Very pleasant he was. He seemed to know all about me and my family. He asked me to dinner this evening. And he walked with me to the Museum where he introduced me to Dr. Hector, the manager, (a Dunedinite). The Governor stayed with me at the Museum _ of an hour. Here I saw plenty of nice things, all admirably arranged. There were two huge pieces of greenstone brought from Otago--fossils--birds--insects, etc. Also a really magnificent collection of etchings by Rembrandt, L. da Vinci and others, just presented to the Museum by "Bishop" Monrad of Denmark. Arthur Lascelles came in while I was at the Museum. I introduced him to Dr. Hector. Then we (A.L. and I) went to call upon the Attorney Gen. and Mr. Barraud (brother of Lavers B) who were both out. It came on to blow heavily in the afternoon. The Phoebe will therefore not sail today. I went on board at 4, and Mr Barraud and the Attorney Gen. came to see me shortly afterwards. Visited the Parliamentary library (a capital one) with the latter, who was extremely anxious that I should sleep at his house: but I declined, preferring the independence of the Phoebe. The Governor's dinner was at 8. I had a most pleasant evening--Commodore Rowley Lambert, of the [116/117] Challenger, and two Adelaide gentlemen, with the military secretary, Capt. Smith, were the other guests. The Governor was most agreeable. He was a Fellow of Brasenose and knew many of my friends. Lady B. is at Auckland. She is a Corfiote. At 10.30 when the gentlemen retired to smoke, the Governor made me sit over the fire with him till nearly midnight and talk. (The only thing that struck me as odd, was that Sir George was always helped first to everything). He expects to come down to Dunedin with Prince Alfred, in March and hopes to find me there. Got on board the Phoebe and to my cabin without being observed.

Jan. 29. Breakfast at 8.30, very well served. I slept pretty well. The weather does not improve--No going to sea today. The Ruahine sailed for Sydney last night. There are two men of war in the harbour--the Challenger and Blanche. Commodore Lambert is a friend of Robert's and brother of Capt. L. of Canterbury (England). The wind, from the S.E. is quite cold. It would be right ahead if we sailed. Dinner on board at 1--very nice--plain joints and vegetables. A great improvement on the Ruahine. This is a small vessel, only 416 tons--but a good and comfortable sea boat, they say. It rained and blew hard all day. We shall not stir till the weather moderates. I did not leave the ship. I thought a good deal of my plans today. They are getting more into shape. If we sail today, I shall (I think) remain at Christchurch over Sunday. I shall not officiate in N. Zealand, until my position is more defined. But I shall hold meetings at which I can explain and defend myself.

Jan. 30. No change in the weather all night, and as it still blows a gale, we are not to sail today. I went ashore after breakfast, and walked about with A. Lascelles. We entered our names in the Visitors' Book at Government House. We spent the evening at Mr. Prendergast's. While I was there a telegram reached me from Edwards. "Come to Dunedin as soon as possible". We are to sail tomorrow (Sunday) morning--so my hopes of a Sunday ashore will come to nought. The wind has gone down. I have dropped the title of Bishop of Dunedin, and have become plain "Bishop Jenner".* [Footnote: * What can have induced Jenner to have reached such an inexplicable decision does not appear.]

Jan. 31. Sexagestma Sunday. Breakfasted (with A.L.) at Mr. Prendergast's. The latter has been most kind and hospitable to us. The Phoebe sailed at 9.30. There was a fresh breeze, and a heavy swell outside the harbour. I was by no means comfortable--and spent most of the day recumbent in my cabin. I was not sick, however. At 7, I went on deck for half an hour. We were just passing the Kaikoura range. They looked most majestic. The summits were covered with snow, and [117/118] stood up well above the clouds like the mountains on the Lake of Lucerne. An extremely impressive scene! They are far higher than I had imagined yet Mt. Cook in Canterbury is nearly twice as high as the Kaikouras, which are even surpassed by the Otago ranges. So at least says "the Hon. I. Hall", member of the Legislative Council, who is a passenger. He lives at ChCh. and seems to be a good Churchman. We are to arrive at Lyttelton at about 6 a.m. I wonder what the Dunedinites would say, if they knew how dreadfully I am tempted to take the Gen. Synod at its word and start off home at once. We had Evensong in the saloon at 8. A good attendance. I was not up to a Sermon.

Feb. 1. At 7, I came on deck, the ship was stopped twice during the night on account of the dense fog, which continued until 9--when it lifted and showed Bank's Peninsula close to us. We steamed into Lyttelton Harbour and anchored about 10. I went ashore in the Customs boat with Mr. Hall. The first person I saw was E. Girand, coming off in a boat to see me. He looked very much as of old. The Bp. of Ch.Ch. never came to Lyttelton.* [Footnote: See paragraph below] There was no time to go to Ch.Ch. and back before the Phoebe left: so I walked about with Girand and a Dr. Donald, one of the original settlers, who showed me the Church and the Town Hall, Lyttelton is very pretty. Beautiful green heights on each side of the harbour with bold projecting rocks everywhere, but very little timber. The Phoebe left her anchorage at 1--A heavy fog was driving up from the sea. We went very slowly, stopping to take up Capt. White of the Blue Jacket, a sailing ship, which is to start for England about the middle of the month. She furnishes her cabins and provides linen, etc, and charges only £50--not more than other ships which give no such advantages. I feel very much inclined to go back in her.+ [Footnote: + The Blue Jacket was totally destroyed by fire off the Falkland Islands in April--on her homeward voyage.] After dinner (at 3.30), the fog increasing, we dropped [118/119] anchor, as the Captain did not know where he was. Shall I ever get to Dunedin, I wonder? It takes 18 hours in clear weather to go from Lyttelton to Dunedin. We remained at anchor till 9, when, the fog clearing, we weighed and went ahead.

[Footnote: [118n] * When Mr. Young later addressed the 1st Diocesan Synod he made great play of this incident.

". . . At Wellington he received his Lordship the Bishop of Christchurch's letter, and in that letter his Lordship expressed a desire to see him. He did not even reply to his Lordship but went to Lyttelton. Why did he not telegraph from there? Did he expect his Lordship to meet him at Lyttelton. and was not his act of omission one of disrespect?

A MEMBER: He did telegraph. The telegram miscarried. It was given to Captain Kenson.

In reply to a question from a member.
His Lordship said: I received no letter or telegram direct from Bishop Jenner.

Mr Young continued to say that whether Bishop Jenner telegraphed from Lyttelton or not. the facts disclosed convinced him that Bishop Jenner was anxious altogether to avoid the Bishop of Christchurch (Oh, oh! No, and confusion). Gentlemen might object, but he would point out that Bishop Jenner had passed, so to speak, by the very door of the Primate's house, and, without seeing him, had come down here thus adding fresh fuel to the fire already kindled."

All this ignores the fact that Bishop Jenner had expected that the New Primate would be his earnest advocate. Who one might ask, gave Mr. Young his information? Who kindled the fire?]

[119] The land was close to us, so it is well we stopped. I had some conversation with the purser about the melancholy accident, which caused the death of the Campbell family in 1863. He was at Dunedin at the time. It was a collision, though, the two vessels mistaking each others lights. The whole family was below at the time and had no chance of escaping. The Captain of the Blue Jacket, a most pleasant man, told me a good deal about his ship, and the advantages she offered to passengers and volunteered to get the passage money considerably reduced, in the event of my family arriving out with him next July. Turned in at 10.30.

Feb. 2. Purif. B. V M. I had a good night's rest. The fog continued all night, more or less, but we have been going very fairly. Capt. Wheeler expects to arrive outside the "Otago Heads" by nightfall--but there will be no getting up to Port Chalmers before morning. The day was very calm, and not cold, though the wind is still S.W. We saw land near Waikouaiti, I believe at 1 p.m.: but there was not much to be distinguished, except some low flat topped hills. There have been many sharks round the ship today. The Captain shot at several without effect. At about 6 p.m. we passed through acres of "whale feed"--minute crustaceans like young lobsters, on which the whale lives. They give a reddish colour to the sea. At 8.30, we anchored outside the "Heads", and are to move up to Pt. Chalmers at 4.30 a.m. I do not expect any kind of "reception" at Dunedin; so, as they can scarcely mob me, I shall not be disappointed whatever happens. Mr. Edwards in his letter, promised to meet me at Port Chalmers--but, the Phoebe having been so long coming, I doubt whether he will. Probably I shall have to walk solus from the jetty to the town.

Feb. 3. The Phoebe weighed at 6--and anchored at Pt. Chalmers in half an hour. A most exquisitely beautiful place, this--surpassing anything I have seen, in N. Zealand or elsewhere. To my great relief four Dunedin gentlemen came on board to see me. viz. Rev. E. Granger, Messrs. Quick, Howorth and Panthin, all warm sympathizers. There seems to be huge excitement at Dunedin. I could summarise the features of the situation, after the fashion of American newspapers:

Great excitement at Bp. Jenner's Arrival.
Commonly supposed that he will insist on preaching.
Meeting last Friday convened by Young & Co.
[120] Measures adopted against Bp. J's Reception.
Bishop Harper "telegraphs to Young that he shall not allow him to officiate."
No harm done to Bishop J. but the contrary.
Vestries and congregations of S. Paul's and All Saints indignant at his exclusion from pulpits.
Telegram sent to Bp. Harper, who refuses to withdraw inhibition.

My friends took me ashore, and gave me a good breakfast at the Hotel. At 8.30, we left in a small steamer for Dunedin. The morning was fine; the scenery as we passed up the harbour unspeakably lovely. The shores, steep and bold are covered with bush, and, where cleared, with the greenest grass. Here and there appears a settler's homestead, with blue smoke curling up through the trees. Then there are several small but lofty islands, among which our course winds. These are clothed with verdure from the water to the highest elevation--except where the rich brown rock peeps out. In about _ an hour, the City of Dunedin came in sight. It is far more imposing and larger than I had expected. At 9.30, I landed--not without deep feelings of thankfulness to God, for His most merciful protection throughout my long voyage. There were crowds of people on the jetty to see me, much respect was exhibited. Edwards, Dasent and others took me to the Parsonage in somebody's carriage. Mr. Edwards, I liked much. He is most kind in every way. Mrs. Edwards also is very pleasant indeed and good looking. Also, a lady. Almost all day, I was receiving visitors. Heartiest welcome from everybody. The excitement at my inhibition is by no means abated. S. Paul's vestry met again and adjourned till tomorrow, after sending another telegram to Bp. of Ch.Ch. In the afternoon, I walked out with Edwards, and called on Mrs. Bell. Dunedin is a surprising place, S. Paul's Church is better than I had expected. Poor Edwards has just received the news of his mother's death, and is in great "affliction". A memorable day this, my reception has far surpassed my expectations.

Feb. 4. My dearest Herbert's birthday. God bless him! After breakfast, I walked with Edwards and Dasent to call on Granger, who lives near the "Water of Leith", in the N.E. part of Dunedin. It was a very pretty walk, by nice gardens full of Gladiolas, Carnations, Verbenas, Calendulas, etc. all looking so wonderfully healthy and thriving. Granger's house is small but very comfortable and has a charming little garden in front. All Saint's Church I did not see. Back again to the Parsonage by 12.30. I found a letter from the Primate--very hard and unsympathetic. He desires me "not to attempt to officiate either as a Bishop, or as a Minister of our Church in Otago or Southland". Assuming that this was my intention, he lectures me on my duty to the N.Z. Church. An uncalled for proceeding this. It would be well if the N. Zealand [120/121] Church would remember its duty towards me. In S. Paul's vestry there seems to be increased excitement. They appointed a committee with orders to keep on telegraphing to the Primate until evening, or until they got a direct answer to the question, whether he forbids me to accept the invitation of the Vestry to preach next Sunday at S. Paul's, but the Primate declines further correspondence except by letter. The Vestry were unanimous in wishing me to preach. I answered the Primate's letter in the afternoon, but I was perpetually being interrupted by sympathising visitors of whom there seems no end. The milder of the adversaries are beginning to come, e.g. Mr. Whittingham and Mr. Oliver. The former an opponent in S. Paul's vestry--the latter, a member of Mr W. C. Young's committee. Mr. W. was pleased to express himself to Mr. Edwards much gratified by his interview with me, though he was angry with himself for it and said "that's the worst of having to deal with a gentleman"! Mr. Young at his meeting, warned the audience against me on this ground!!

Mr. Quick dined at the Parsonage and Towsey the organist came in. He plays the piano very well. I attended a Choir practice afterwards. The organ is a fine 2 manual instrument, by Telford--It is sadly out of order. The choir, of men and women, indifferent, but improvable.

Feb. 5. A lovely clear day--rather warm, but there was a nice breeze blowing. Letters appeared in the Daily Times from Oldham and "W" (Watt), nothing new. Letters came from Tanner and C. R. Marten.

I walked with Edwards to Caversham where we called on the Cantrells and Mrs. Levine. The former knew A. A. Cornish and the Curtises--being an old Windsor man. A good many people called in the afternoon when I was out.

Dined at Granger's at 5.30. About 12 present--chiefly members of his congregation. Not a very lively party, but all were civil.

Feb. 6. A lovely morning--very hot--but it rained heavily in the afternoon. There were two letters about me in the Daily Times--one pro, the other con. I saw also the Sun of yesterday which had two abusive letters: and of today with a long account of the Ded. Fest. at All Saint's, Lambeth, at which I was not present. Not many visitors today. Mrs. and Miss Bell called, and Dr. and Mrs. Alexander came in the evening. I did not go out all day. Sent a letter to the Daily Times.

Feb. 7. Quinquagesima Sunday. A cold day. Fire in the Drawing Room! Being under inhibition, I went to Church as a worshipper only, sitting in Mr. Butterworth's seat. There was a large congregation, and a good many communicated. The singing was not bad--Anglican Chants to Canticles--Hymns A & M. No sermon, on account of Edward's trouble, which quite incapacitated him. It was strange my being compelled to be silent. I could not get over the depressing effect [121/122] all day. Great indignation is felt and expressed about it. Mr. Eccles (a surgeon) called in the afternoon. He told me that many people still believe that Mr. Simmon's letters were strictly private and blame me for publishing them. I gave him the Bp. of Brechin's letter, to show, as affording proof positive to the contrary. He was extremely indignant with S. and I fear will expose him. The congregation at Evensong was very large. It appears that an idea prevailed that I should preach after all.

Feb. 8. My own dear wife's birthday--God bless and keep her, and grant that we may be happily re-united before many months have passed. A most lovely day! Edwards and I walked out before and after lunch. We paid many calls, and saw some nice houses. The views from the hill above Dunedin were enchanting. There can hardly exist a much more beautiful place than this. Today the prospect over the blue Pacific, with the bay in the foreground, locked in by verdant hills, was loveliness itself. We were out from 2 till 6--everybody most civil. Dr. Webster called and sat with me some time. He was a friend of Augustus at Sydney. The Rev. M. Martin, of Tuapeka, called.

Feb. 9. Shrove Tuesday. Another fine day. In the afternoon, Edwards and I called at 19 houses: I was very sleepy in the evening.

Feb. 10. Ash Wednesday. Very cold and windy. At S. Paul's there was Litany Commination, and the "Communion Service" (no Celebration) at 11. About 25 persons were present. Mr. Jas. Smith called at 2, and sat for an hour, I was delighted with him. He spoke hopefully of my prospects. The post brought a letter from Gifford, and a Tuapeka paper containing a very earnest and able defence of my position signed Crux. Walked out with Edwards and called at several houses. Mr. Macassey, a barrister, has asked me to dinner tomorrow. I felt obliged to accept the invitation, but I don't half like the idea of a Lenten dinner party to begin with. I leave this for Waikouaiti on Saturday. This will enable me to escape other invitations. Capt. Hamilton called this morning. A very good man, but almost, if not quite, a "Plymouth Brother". In the prevailing torpor of the Church, it is no wonder that earnestminded, but ill instructed, men, should go off to other bodies of religionists. Such is the case, unhappily, here.

Feb. 11. In our walk yesterday we passed through the "town belt" i.e. a part of the bush still surrounding Dunedin. It gave me some idea of what bush scenery is like. The ferns were lovely. There were at least 20 different species, growing on the ground, on rocks, on trunks and even branches of trees. I saw several tree ferns, not very tall, however. There were but few plants in flower but the foliage of the trees and shrubs were exquisite. Every now and then we came to a little gully with a long [122/123] perspective of ferns of all kinds, and trees arching overhead. In one charming little spot, about 6 yards square, the ferns were arranged (so to speak) against a rocky bank just like--but infinitely more lovely than--a fernery in an English garden. Only one bird was singing--the Tui, or parson bird. The note is very sweet but melancholy and undecided. This morning I sat writing till lunch time. Then we walked into the town. The shops here are marvellously good, and not so very dear--as far as I can see. Mutton is down 2_d a pound. Lamb the same. We have been having most excellent young potatoes, green peas and French beans, also gooseberries, currants and raspberries. Everybody agrees that the climate is most healthy. I never saw such big and thriving children in my life. The great want in Dunedin is superior instruction for the young children of the wealthier parents and for girls up to the age of 16.* [Footnote: * Notwithstanding Jenner's remarks education was as advanced or more advanced in Dunedin than in most places in New Zealand. (Brian Findlay).] This evening I dined at Mr. Macassey's. A pleasant party. Mrs. Smith and others came in the evening. Everybody was kind and sympathizing.

Feb. 12. I spent most of the day indoors, preparing for the meeting this evening, which is convened for the purpose of hearing an address from me. It was held at S. Georges Hall at 8. With one exception all was most satisfactory. I was received with great applause. The Chairman was Dr. Buchanan, who said he came prejudiced against me, declared himself perfectly satisfied. The vote of thanks was unanimous and enthusiastic. Mr. W. C. Young's name was received with hisses, and a letter explaining his absence, with still more emphatic marks of disapproval. The one drawback to the success of the meeting, was the absence of the "opposition" leaders--who were specially invited to attend, but thought it prudent to stay away.

Feb. 13. Started at 8 in the coach for Waikouaiti. Mr. Graham, an up country station holder, was with me inside--with four others, two being diggers. The morning was wretched--heavy rain, which found its way into the coach to our great discomfort. In spite of the weather the scenery was charming. Every turn of the road--and, on account of engineering difficulties, the road winds a great deal--reveals fresh beauties--Huge masses of uncleared bush, with the richest foliage conceivable; clothe the lofty hillsides. I was much struck with the enormous fuchsia trees. Tree ferns abound--I saw some more than 8 ft. high--but these are stately objects. Here and there a cabbage tree (or Ti palm) rears a naked trunk crowned by a palm like head. Flax (Phormium tenax) abounds everywhere, and in the valleys, grows to a large size. The cleared land is carpeted with the small white clover, which introduced a few years ago from England, is becoming naturalized in the [123/124] most astonishing way. The same may be said of many other foreign plants. A composite Hypo-choeris radicata (I think) which goes by the name of "Cape-weed" is becoming a serious nuisance, and a thistle--Carduus Acanthoides--is spreading so rapidly, that occupiers of land are compelled by police regulations to destroy it. After an uncomfortable journey of 3_ hours, we arrived at Waikouaiti, where Mr. Dasent met me, and drove me to his house. This is a scattered township, occupying a considerable space of ground. The Church and Parsonage are close together, with a nice meadow (a paddock in Colonial language) between them. I had a meeting in the evening at the "Council Chamber". A good many people attended and I was well received. Mr. Charles Black was in the chair.

Feb. 14. 1 Sunday in Lent. Matins and Evensong in the little wooden church. A small congregation. Service dull. I was a worshipper only. After dinner, I walked out on the beach--a very fine piece of land, with Miss Dasent, aged 14. Picked up some shells, and saw the vertebra of several whales imbedded in the sand, also enormous masses of a sea weed, for all the world like confused heaps of saddles! Mr. Dasent and his sons rode to Palmerston, 10 miles off for a service at 3 and returned in time for Evensong at 6.30. Mr. Towsey, the postmaster here, is a brother of the Dunedin organist. He became a R.C. some time ago but attends Waikouaiti church and is a very nice young fellow.

Feb. 15. This morning I sent letters home with an account of my doings up to this date. At 8 a.m. Mr. Dasent and I left Waikouaiti in a four wheeled "buggy" for Palmerston, a small township on the north road. The scenery is very pretty in places--though of a different character from any I had as yet passed through. On the left hand, after leaving Waikouaiti, there was a considerable bush--with the prettiest little houses and gardens belonging to squatters, at intervals on the very edge. Far away to the westward, extend an interminable range of grassy hills, with rocky peaks interspersed--One of these, called the Kaira Peak, was very conspicuous, resembling the Matterhorn in outline. At 9, we came to Capt. Fallerton's station. Here we had a capital breakfast--served in admirable style. Such cream, butter and hot cakes! with most superlative coffee. After breakfast Capt. Fallerton drove us to Hampden 25 miles. The road was "metalled" for the first 6 miles--after which it was rather rough--except in sandy places where the travelling was very pleasant. After passing the Shag valley, * [Footnote: * Or Waihemo.] we had to cross the Horse Range, and very steep it was--800 feet above the sea level. From the summit, there is a magnificent view over the country we had passed--endless plains and hills to the West, and Port Chalmers and Otago Heads to the South. The descent on the Northern side of the range took us through "Trotter's Gorge"--a most glorious [124/125] piece of rock scenery. On the right, a lofty cliff, formed of enormous piles of conglomerate massed together in the wildest confusion: on the left--a lovely green gully bounded by precipitous heights, and strewed here and there with rocky fragments that had fallen down from time to time. The contrast of the grey rocks against the brilliant verdure of the grass and ferns was most striking. The road hence to Hampden is less interesting--the land is highly cultivated, and the crops of wheat and oats looked very well. Capt. Fallerton was extremely pleasant and took the utmost pains to show me every object of interest. At Hampden we found a party from Oamaru to meet us, viz. Messrs. Miller (an Eton and Trinity man, was at Eton with Robert and Alfred and knew several friends of mine), W. Black and Allen, besides Mr. Gifford. I liked the latter extremely. After dinner at the Hotel, I attended a meeting in the schoolroom (N.B. the schools of Otago are numerous and, as far as regards secular instruction, excellent--but they are under government management, and the clergy have nothing to do with them). About 30 were present, I addressed them for 20 minutes. Everybody was most friendly. A young man (who I afterwards found was H. Clarke, respecting whom I had received a letter from Mrs. Champhey of Effreston, Notts) proposed a vote of thanks. An amendment by a carpenter, who wanted to pass a vote of "perfect and entire confidence" was withdrawn on Mr. Gifford intimating that no "resolutions" were to be put. I acknowledged the thanks, which were carried by acclamation, and wound up by saying that having been doubtful as to what character I ought to be regarded as bearing in Otago--Whether Fenian--Hau Hau* [Footnote: * Towards the end of the Maori wars a new religion, compounded of elements of Old Testament morality, Christian doctrine, and primitive Maori beliefs, was born out of the despair of defeat. The Angel Gabriel appeared to Te Ua in 1862 and commanded him to kill his child as a sacrifice for the people. Te Ua invoked the Blessed Trinity but revived cannibalism. The congregation worshipped round a kind of maypole and believed that they were made bullet-proof by the service and the raising of the right hand with the shout 'Pai Marire, hau! Hau!' Hence the nick-name, Hau Hau.] or other lawless intruder. 1 had come to the conclusion that I was only "a new chum out prospecting". This piece of diggers slang tickled them amazingly. At 5, we got into Mr. Miller's "buggy" and started on our 26 miles drive to Oamaru. We crossed several rivers, the largest being the Otepopo. Mr. Miller showed me signs of severe floods, and told me that this time last year there was an awful one, which swept away houses and their occupants, as well as cattle and crops. He pointed out the remains of a house which was carried off by the rising of an innocent little brook, through which we passed, when 9 persons perished. We saw a great deal of land under tillage today. One field, or paddock, as they call it, belonging to a company lately started, contained 1500 acres of wheat. We arrived at Oamaru Parsonage, a stone house [125/126] of some pretensions, at 8.15. I stay here till Thursday--holding a meeting on Wednesday evening. To bed very tired at 10.30. We passed some tattooed Maorie-- the first I had seen today.

Feb. 16. At Oamaru all day. In the forenoon Mr. Ashcroft, a very pleasant man called. We had a long conversation and he lent me his horse, on which I rode for a couple of hours with Gifford. The day was magnificent. The town and bay looked extremely pretty from a headland which forms the southern extremity of the bay. "First Rocky Point" it is called in the maps. There is a tremendous surf here sometimes. We went into the Church, which I suppose must be called good for N. Zealand, this of the white Oamaru stone, an excellent material. In the afternoon some people called.

Feb. 17. Mr. W. Black, whom I liked exceedingly, drove me out in a buggy before dinner. We had much talk on various subjects. Some of his relations seem to be infected with "Plymouthism" which distresses him not a little. How can people help falling away from the church? which must be, in the eyes of the earnest but untaught, an effete sect, quite incapable of supplying their spiritual needs, or of satisfying their spiritual longings. In the afternoon I tried to write some letters and prepare address for this evening--but I was much interrupted by callers. The meeting was at 7--in the "Drill Shed". Mr. Miller the Chairman was not very brilliant. I spoke for _ of an hour. There was much silly talk, especially from one Clendinner, who seemed to me to have been having a strongish "nobbler". The feeling of the meeting was highly Protestant. Gifford spoke well but said one or two things, ad captandum vulgus that I thought unworthy of him. The meeting on the whole was depressing. I found afterwards that there were many Prebyterians present and that certain rude Protestant demonstrations came from them. The attendance was large--upwards of 300. I got a kind letter from Mr. Vincent Pyke,* [Footnote: * In May-June 1862, the Government organised a Goldfields Department to bring some order into the claims of the diggers. Vincent Pyke, a miner-politician from Victoria was placed at its head and drafted a set of regulations which suited a mature goldfield and were generally acceptable to men whose claims had conflicted.] the Gold Warden of Clyde, this evening, pressing hospitality upon me.

Feb. 18. A dull misty day. Mr. Graham, a descendant of the Claver-house Grahams, drove me to Casa Nova Mr. Fenwick's--where we were engaged to lunch. A very pleasant little party. The F's are extremely nice. At 2.30, I started with Mr. Graham, for his station--Ben Lomond. The road was very rough--and the scenery not particularly interesting. Mr. G. is a reckless driver and very nearly upset us several times. The heights on either side of the plain along which our route [126/127] lay, are striking at first but soon become monotonous--they are covered with tussocks of grass which was quite brown, and never seems to be green at any time of the year. No bush or tree to be seen except now and then a solitary Ti palm (or cabbage tree). The plain is under cultivation and the fields of wheat, barley, oats and potatoes, were looking very promising. About 5, we came to the Waitaki and skirted its banks for some miles. The opposite heights are in Canterbury province. Ben Lomond is not so high as its Scotch namesake, but the fog prevented its summit from being seen. We arrived at Mr. Graham's station at 6. There is a Mrs. G. and several children. After dinner, I baptized the baby. Mr. Rees, of Otekaike, was in the house.

Feb. 19. I wrote to tell the Primate that I had baptized Graham's child, in spite of the inhibition. Started at 10 with G. for Otekaike. The horses were slow, and the road exceedingly rough, often taking us through rivers and over shingle beds. After lunching at Mr. Rees's, I went to see the process of sheep shearing in the woolshed. This interested me very much. Mr. and Mrs. Rees are both charming people. They have several children. One of them as nearly as possible choked himself with a piece of apple during Lunch. Mrs. Boult, a sister of Mrs. Rees, sang a little, before we went away. She has a very good mezzo soprano voice and has been really well taught. Mr. Rees was a member of the Teign Bridge Club. We started in the afternoon for "Rugged Ridges Station"--Messrs. Julius--their father--G. Julius M.D., and his two brothers, I knew very well at Richmond and at Cambridge. Mr. Thompson a Presbn. Minister was at the station--I was extremely civil to him. Off again in half an hour for Ptimatala, where we were received by Mr. and Mrs. Gardner, a nice old couple from the lowlands of Scotland--Presbyterian, I fancy. Mr. Sutherland of Omarama, a Highlander, was in the house. Our drive today was 34 miles long. We kept close along the Waitaki--No distant mountains were to be seen for the mist--but the Canterbury hills and Ben More, 6,000 feet high, showed out very beautifully as the sun went down. We passed some fine bits of rock--On the smooth face of one sandstone cliff some quaint Maori devices were executed in a red pigment.* [Footnote: * Perhaps "Praetea rubrica pictor".] My companion was at a loss to understand how and where they got the paint. Everybody we met talks of nothing but sheep and wool and washing and shearing.

Feb. 20. I slept well and woke refreshed. After breakfast Mr. Gardner showed me over his homestead. Everything seems to thrive marvellously in these Otago gardens. All here looked most healthy, especially the standard apple and peach trees. This was formerly the well known station of a clergyman, "Parson Andrews" an eccentric character of whom many odd stories are told. At 9.30 I took leave of my kind [127/128] friend, Mr. Graham, and the Gardners, and set off on a tall horse (16.2 high) for Omarama. After riding 5 miles through a hilly country without a single tree but interesting for its bold and rugged character, I came suddenly in sight of a noble snowy range, which greatly delighted me. The sun was shining brilliantly on the summit which seemed enormously high. There was snow in patches on other mountains nearer at hand. Inconceivably barren was the country through which I passed. Between the huge tussocks of grass, the ground was absolutely bare--except that here and there appear a small yellow flowered and red leaved Oxalis, and a Cineraria or Senecio with yellow flowers and woolly leaves. I also passed a patch of a strong scented labiate--probably marrubium. At 12, I arrived at Omarama. My horse belonged to Mr. Ostler of Ben More, who is to be my host tonight. He (the horse) carried me well, but wanted spurs. At Omarama, I found two young men--Mr. Borradaile, a cousin of the Rev. A. B. of S. Mary's Vincent Square, Westminster and of Mrs. Lawson (of Richmond) also of Madame Rachel's Mrs. B: and a Mr. Carey, a Guernsey man; who seems to have lost an eye. Mr. Borradaile is afflicted with some disorder, which causes him to break out now and then into idiotic laughter. His companion warned me of this--During the last Maori war he held a command--and one day inadvertently jumped, with another officer, into a Pah, occupied by a dozen warriors, who would have made short work of them--but Mr. B. was seized with one of his fits of laughter, which so frightened the Maories, that, taking him for a madman, they fled in confusion. I got some lunch at the station (which belongs to Sir H. Young) and at 2, Mr. Ostler appeared. He gave me his horse to ride, and mounted my 16 hands steed himself. Then we started on our ten miles ride to Ben More, in the "McKenzie" country. This district derives its name from a man, who, in the pro-Canterbury days, stole a "mob" of sheep, and for more than a year kept them on these plains. At that time unknown to the rest of the world. He was caught at last and made to disgorge his booty. Our ride was very hot and dusty (the more, as Mr. Ostler had to reclaim some horses on the way and drive them home, and the dust they raised between them was prodigious) along a vast plain, bounded by low rugged hills on our right and left and by the snowy ranges far away in front. Mr. O. showed me an iron fence, which, he said, enclosed a "paddock" of 90,000 acres, and enabled him to keep a flock of 40,000 sheep without a shepherd. I imagine the Waitaki river forms one boundary of this nice little meadow. The plain is 1200 feet above the sea, and is very cold in winter, when the snow lies deep and the rivers freeze. We rode through a great many streams--most of which are admirably fitted for trout and even salmon--but, except eels, none of them at present contain fish bigger than white bait. We got to Ben [128/129] More station at 5. My horse was a pleasant one, and I was much less fatigued by my first ride of 25 miles than I expected. Mr. Ostler has been married only six months. His wife is a rather good looking Victorian. The house is beautifully situated, with a glorious view up the plain, terminated by the snowy mountains. What we see, by the way, are glaciers, which are perpetually melting and feeding the rivers below. This is part of the Mount Cook range--Mt. Cook proper is further to the north, and is twice as lofty as the heights we see. There is a lake to the Westward of this house, whose high and precipitous banks appear quite close. I was proposing a walk thither tomorrow afternoon--when Mr. Ostler told me it was at least ten miles off--One is constantly being deceived, in judging distances, by the extreme clearness of the atmosphere. Mr. O. called me in after dinner, to see a sick man--one of his hands--suffering from a bilious attack. Mrs. O has a case and Dr. Herring. I gave him nuxv. My patient is a "lag", colonial for a man who has worn the irons on his ankles. There is a nice Broadwood in the living room here. Mr. O. is only manager--the station belongs to Messrs. Campbell & Low (Dies obdormitionis patris dilectissimi eujus anime propitietur deus).

Feb. 21. 2nd S. in Lent. I slept well, and was only a little stiff, and not at all galled by my ride. My patient is much better this morning. The day was extremely hot--no wind at all--A little haze on the distant hills did not prevent them from being plainly visible. At 10.30 interdict notwithstanding--I had a service in the woolshed. I said part of Matins and expounded the first lesson. There were about 27 present--all were very attentive. It was an odd scene--the men sat in tiers on the wool, high above my head. In the afternoon, we had a similar service viz. a selection from Evensong, and an exposition of S. John X. Mr. & Mrs. O. expressed unbounded delight at certain "local allusions" in my addresses--about sheep and shepherds.

Feb. 22. Still fearfully hot. The sun has prodigious power in this country. Mr. Ostler drove me after breakfast to Omarama, and thence to Mr. Hill's station "Longslip"--where we lunched. Then Mr. Hill lent me a horse (piebald) on which I rode to Mr. McLeans, Morven Hill's station; 20 miles along a rough country, but more fertile than that which I had just left. There was some very fine rock scenery--the Lindis Pass. I fell in with several plants I had not seen before--a tall and rather handsome Primulaceoe with white flowers and a long tap root. Verbascum Blattaria fine and abundant, but introduced: and a pretty little Campanulaceoe (or Campanula or Wanlerbergia gracilis) with light blue sometimes white flowers. There were no animals except lizards, a hawk or two, and the ever recurring "pipit"--not even flies to tease the horse. Mr. McLean is a delightful old person--a Presby-[129/130]terian, but a warm and indignant supporter of my cause. He is "the Honourable", i.e. a member of the upper house of the N. Zealand Legislative. It was quite refreshing to hear him talk of the tactics of W. C. Young & Co. Most of the men of the station--there are 60 of them--are away "mustering" sheep. Mr. McLean has the largest run in Otago--400,000 acres. A Mr. Haines is his manager--son of a former prime minister of Victoria, and nephew of "Haines of Caius" whom I knew well at Cambridge. I was very tired at night. This house is a mere log hut, by no means weather tight.

Feb. 23. At 9.48 Mr. McLean and I started in a nice "buggy" drawn by two greys (Donald and Hector) for the Wanaka Lake--or, rather, a station near it, belonging to Mr. H. Campbell. The road for the most part was a mere track, over a very undulating country, indeed a succession of "terraces". We crossed the River Lindis several times, and for some miles kept along its banks, through a very lovely rock gorge. Here we saw several families of the Blue Mountain Duck--a remarkably pretty bird--colour slate--with some white about the head. They seem very tame. It was pretty to see them rise out of the water, fly some yards and then light on a rock in the middle of the stream. The approach to the Molyneux, which runs close by Mr. Campbell's station is very fine. Magnificent mountains seem to rise out the Lake, covered with immense glaciers. The Otago glaciers are said to be more extensive than all the Swiss ones put together. The Molyneux is a notable river though unnavigable on account of its extreme rapidity. We left the buggy and horses on the other side of the river and crossed in a very frail boat and leaky (fragilis phasela) which I thought must be swept down the stream. There are a number of houses here, and an "hotel". Mr. Campbell's house is a very rough affair. We had tea and the inevitable mutton at 6. A Mr. Drake, Presbn. Minister dropped in just in time--a vulgar man--but I made myself as agreeable as possible. Mr. H. Campbell being away up the lake, his brother, a man whose health had been ruined by a sojourn in Northern Australia, did the honours. I retired early. Heavy rain at night.

Feb. 24. St. Matthias. After a very good night's rest, I was up by 7.30. A glorious morning after the rain. The river and the mountains looked very lovely in the bright sunshine. I longed for a bathe, but the river is not safe. I was sorry not to see the Lake--which is two miles off. Left at 9, in a buggy driven by a "cadet" on the station, called Monro, a very unskilful charioteer. I took the reins after a couple of hours. Monro is a nephew of Sir David M. and knows Frank Nepean and the 66th. 16 miles from the Wanaka we fed the horse--I walked on about 4 miles over an uninteresting country--a vast undulating plain--without seeing a living creature except "pipits" and an occasional "mob" of [150/151] merinos. A little further on we met several wool drays, drawn by bullocks--sometimes by horses, on their way to the coast--Oamaru being their port of shipment. We stopped to lunch at a station belonging to Messrs. Longhnan, three nice young fellows (Rm. Catholics). There was a capital Broadwood in the sitting room, and the "Moonlight" lying upon it. The grounds are nicely laid out, the garden quite gay with geraniums, etc. From hence to Cromwell, the road is monotonous. The Molyneux appears at intervals on the left of the road. At Cromwell, a small digging township, with a single street of corrugated iron houses--the Kaiwarra joins the Molyneux. For some distance the muddy waters of the former run side by side with the clear stream of the Molyneux; but before long the whole becomes turbid and the combined streams rush southwards between their steep and rocky banks. Just above the junction with the Kaiwarra, a wooden bridge crosses the Molyneux at a great elevation. The scenery here is very fine. Great quantities of gold have been, and are being, found in the neighbourhood. The banks of the river are "sluiced" by the diggers for many miles. At Clyde, Mr. Vincent Pyke received me most courteously. I dined at his house, and slept in lodgings provided by the "Church Committee". The house was an iron one--but very comfortable. It was arranged that I should go to Queenstown tomorrow returning on Saturday. Clyde is another diggings township--larger than Cromwell. The houses are of wood and iron. There is no clergyman here--none in fact, nearer than Queenstown--which is 50 miles off. Mr. Pyke, who is "Gold Warden" officiates as lay reader in a "church" which belongs to us, but is lent for one service every Sunday to the Presbyterians!* [Footnote: * It seems unlikely that the Metropolitan could have known of this. As Bishop of Lichfield he objected strongly to six or seven clergymen attending the opening of the new Wesleyan Chapel at Walsall (Guardian 30 May 1877, p.748).] A grievous state of things, this, but being without a head the whole diocese is naturally in a state of confusion and decay. The Clyde people are anxious to have a clergyman, and would support him and build him a house. He would itinerate between Clyde and Cromwell, and his duty would be to work among the diggers through the district. I saw some numbers of the Dunedin newspapers today. There are many letters about me--all contra. I got a note and a telegram from Edwards--also a polite invitation from Stanford, which I determined to accept. At Mr. Pyke's I met Mr. Roberts, late manager of the Bank of Otago at Queenstown, and his wife. Several members of the "Church of England Committee" waited on me in the evening. There seems to be an excellent feeling here. I am to hold a meeting on Saturday evening, after my return from Queenstown and on Sunday I shall have to worship in the "Church" here--under Mr. V. Pyke's auspices. I saw several Chinese today. They are industrious and successful gold diggers, making a livelihood, very often, out of "claims" deserted by the [131/132] English. Halfway between Clyde and Cromwell, there is a very thriving and well cultivated market garden. The owner saluted me most respectfully--I should have liked to make his acquaintance. I was told that he was gradually extending his cultivation--and was making a good thing of it.

Feb. 25. A good deal of rain fell in the night, but the morning was lovely. Rose at 7 after a good night's rest--breakfasted at 8. A sumptuous repast was prepared for me. After sending a telegram to Dunedin, I started in a buggy and pair for my 56 mile drive to Queenstown on Lake Wakatipu. My charioteer was a Dane--Mr. Beck--a pleasant and civil man. The first ten miles of road was that which I came along last evening. After passing through Cromwell, the country was new to me. The road skirts the banks of Kaiwarra, the grandeur of which is beyond description. Such rocks I never beheld. Twice we crossed the river, in wonderful self-acting ferry boats. These swing across by the force of the current, which is tremendous. There is not a tree or shrub to be seen for many miles. The banks of the river are extremely lofty and precipitous. The stream is of course unnavigable, on account of the rapid current. There is quite a large digging population scattered along the banks--dwelling in huts of all kinds of materials--iron--wood--turf--canvas or even calico. "Hotels" appear frequently--mere shanties--bearing appropriate signs, e.g. "The Diggers Rest", "The Sluicer's Arms" and close to a waterfall--"The Gentle Annie"--is an "accommodation house" of superior pretension bearing the same name. Another mountain torrent--of noisy and obtrusive character, but very beautiful, is called "Roaring Meg". The rocks are a micaceous schist, and glitter brilliantly in the sun. The miners must often have reason to remember the proverb "all is not gold that glitters" Indeed the mica is commonly spoken of as "New Chum's Gold". About halfway to Queenstown, we stopped to bait the horse, at an "accommodation house", connected with a ferry over the Nevis, (a tributary of the Kaiwarra) and kept by a man named Edwards and his wife. He is a Truro man, and she from Swansea. Both were greatly interested at my knowledge of the two localities. Mrs. E. got into an excited state when she heard that my wife was born at Swansea, and that I had been there so recently. Her children had all been baptized by either Bishop Selwyn or Harper--except the baby, 2 months old, which I promised to baptize on my return from Queenstown. There are diggings close to the house. Mr. Edwards told me the river is full of gold--if it could only be got at and even in the road near his house, little grains could be seen after a shower. He showed me a small heap of gold dust, weighing 1_ oz. and worth about £5.0.0, in scales just like bran. And he gave me a little nugget (worth 10/-) which I thought very kind. [132/133] The latter part of the road was not quite so rich in scenery--until we approached the lakes, when some glorious mountain ranges, the "Remarkables" (an idiotic name) showed themselves. One snow covered peak was 10,000 feet high and there were many of rather less elevation. Six miles from Queenstown, we crossed the Shotover--not without some risk, the ford being swollen by rains and the track uncertain. We stopped at a public house just before we reached the river, and asked the woman who kept it, how we were to find the way. She said "O, you had better drive down to the ford and coo-ey; the boy is sure to hear you, and he'll shew you over". We followed this advice, and a boy on a white horse, responding to our "coo-eying", came and piloted us across. The water came into the buggy, in spite of the height of the wheels--but we got across without serious difficulty. And now we entered upon a tract of land, which, highly, and to all appearance, successfully, cultivated, was more like home than any I had lately seen. Such prodigious fields of wheat and oats, just cut, and standing in stooks, or else being reaped by machine. The crops seemed very good, but the difficulty of getting them in must be immense, on account of the scarcity of labour. Lake Hayes is a charming little sheet of waters, about 2 miles from L. Wakatipu. The land is cultivated to its very banks; and there are little white dwellings dotted about, some close to the water, others higher up the green slopes; scene of exceeding loveliness. We reached Lake Wakatipu just as the sun was setting, and the nearly full moon rising. Very sweet and peaceful it looked. There was hardly a ripple on the water. One does not get a view of the whole lake from this part of its banks--(there is a "town" here consisting of half a dozen houses, called Frankton) but as far as can be judged, it appears quite equal to the Swiss lakes. In shape it is not unlike the Lake of the Four Cantons. Queenstown lies in a hollow, on the edge of a little cove. You come upon it quite unexpectedly. It is a fair sized place; the houses are all of wood. This is a "diggings" town--but superior to Clyde or Cromwell. Mr. Beetham, President of the "Church Committee", came to meet me, and took me to his house where I was to sleep. He entertained me hospitably, and was pleasant but Puritanical to a degree: not that he knows much, or indeed, anything, of theology. In the evening Mr. Scott, the Secretary of the Ch. Committee and the Rev. R. Coffey, called to see me; the latter a third rate Irish priest.* [Footnote: * Despite the impression he made upon Jenner, Mr. Coffey was by no means third-rate. His argumentative nature and quick temper (which earned him the name of Hot Coffey) did not prevent him from being a successful parish priest. His pastoral zeal led him to a profound distrust of Lay Readers. (Brian Findlay).] There had been a meeting about me a day or two back, when some silly resolutions were passed (under Mr. Coffey's influence, I believe), which will make my work tomorrow night very simple. But we shall see.

[134] Feb. 26. Unfortunately a windy day, which prevented my going out on the Lake, where squalls are dangerous. After breakfast Mr Beetham, who is Gold Warden and Magistrate of the district, went to his office or court, and I sat down to write letters and diary, hoping to have a quiet morning. Vain expectation! I had hardly begun before two young ladies walked in with infinite composure, and proceeded to make themselves at home, with the room, and with me. They pulled everything about within reach, and catechised me on my occupation and antecedents. They steadily refused to take hints to go away; but at last one of them proposed that we should take a walk--which gave me an opportunity, of which I was not slow to avail myself. I agreed at once, and off we set, hand in hand. Where should we go? "Oh", said one, "to the Peninsula". So to the Peninsula we bent our steps. This is a very lovely spot, with a grand view of the Lake. There is a cemetery on one part of it. My young friends--one of whom was 5, and the other 3 years old--terrified me by picking up some berries and eating them. They turned out to be "snowberries", and are quite harmless and rather nice. We all sat down in a shady place, and I told the young people all about my darlings at home and showed them the cartes. Then I related "Alice" to them, after which I proposed that we should return home, i.e. Mr. Beetham's--to which they graciously consented--and after some difficulty, I succeeded in getting rid of them. I found they were the daughters of a Mr. Worthington, who lives close by. In the afternoon Mr. Beetham and I called on their parents, who were pleasant enough. He comes from Lowestoft, where his father was an M.D. He proposed one of the offensive resolutions the other night. My two little girls, alas, had been whipped and sent to bed, for having fraternized with a very dirty gold digger--after they left me. They were found sitting on his knee. Rather hard, I thought, considering in what company they had spent the morning, with impunity. I suppose the parents considered that they must draw the line somewhere. I walked with Mr. Beetham for two hours, along the shore of the lake. I got some glorious views and saw several nice plants--among them a Lycopodium resembling Selago; in fruit, and very pretty. The meeting at 8 o'clock was a full one. There was a scene, as I expected. I had said not a word of my intentions to anyone but when I was called upon to address the audience, I rose and observed that it would depend entirely on themselves whether I should address them or not. Then I proceeded to refer to the "resolutions" which had been passed and handed to me.* [Footnote: *See following paragraphs] I said it was preposterous to prejudge the whole matter, as they had done, when they knew I was on my way to see them and defend myself. It was like hanging a man first and trying him afterwards. Then I continued, "You call upon me to do certain things--to make statements which you dictate to me, and you tell me, that if I refuse to do your bidding, any [134/135] further explanation will be useless. Now, I positively and distinctly refuse to do anything of the sort; and that for five reasons (which I read). It is, therefore, for you to say, whether I am to proceed with my address or not. If this meeting holds itself bound by the ridiculous resolutions of last Tuesday--not a word more can I say--since you tell me beforehand that it will be useless. If, on the other hand, you like to declare that you do not accept those resolutions, and, as far as you are concerned, are prepared to rescind them, I will gladly proceed with the address that I came to Queenstown to deliver". Then there was a good deal of wild talking--Mr. Coffey and Mr. Worthington fell out--W. said that the resolutions would have been differently worded, had they known I was coming when they were passed--C. said, "No, they would not". The latter appealed to me to say a few words to the assembly, but I steadily refused; except on the conditions already mentioned, which they would not accept and so the meeting ended. Mr. Beetham, who was in the Chair, candidly admitted that I could not have acted otherwise under the circumstances. After we got home, I had a long talk with him and Mr. Wright the Mayor.

[Footnote: [135n] * The three resolutions were:

(1) "That Bishop Jenner, in his address at Dunedin, having failed to deny the charge of being a Ritualist, and taking refuge in the ambiguity of the epithet, this congregation hereby pronounce his Lordship's explanation to be altogether inadequate and unsatisfactory."

(2) "That Bishop Jenner be requested to condemn the Party known as Ritualists, and to repudiate all sympathy with their practices; and should he refuse or omit to do so, this congregation consider all explanation useless."

(3) "That a copy of these resolutions be given to Dr. Jenner on his arrival at Queenstown."

Jenner's refutation of five points read as follows:

(1) "Because the expression "the Party known as Ritualists" is vague and indefinite - nearly every one having his own standard, and that often a fluctuating one in questions affecting the details of public worship."

(2) "Because it is obviously impossible that those framing that resolution could be furnished with sufficient information to guide them in giving a trustworthy opinion of the truths of the whole case."

(3) "Because a Bishop's office being a judicial one, and the question of so-called Ritualism being sub judice, it would be highly unbecoming in him to pass even an extra-judicial sentence of condemnation on persons who claim the sanction of the law, and who have not as yet been proved to be acting in disobedience to it."

(4) "Because amongst those who are commonly pointed at as Ritualists are to be found some of the holiest and most devoted men of the Church of England--men who had given up all advantages--not that they may gratify their fancies or their tastes by indulging in high and gorgeous ceremonials, but in order to benefit the souls and bodies of the poor and the criminal in crowded town and cities of England and whose labours have been so signally blessed by God Almighty."

(5) "Because among the "practices" with which his Lordship was called upon to "repudiate all sympathy" were comprised usages sanctioned by a large number of English and Colonial Bishops, and in vogue in many English cathedrals and in churches without number."]

[136] Feb. 27. Up at 7. Mr. Coffey came to say goodbye, and was cordial enough: but I do not trust him. I had written him a conciliatory letter. We started at 7.15 for Clyde. It was a cold raw day, which made the drive less enjoyable than it otherwise would have been. We baited at the Nevis Ferry again. I baptized Mrs. Edward's baby after which I had breakfast--excellent tea and bread and butter, for which the Edwards would not hear of my paying. Then I walked out to look at some gold seekers hard by on the bank of the river. I found two men "prospecting". They were extremely civil--one was English, the other Scotch. The former had been gardener at the Rev. Hunt's, Sunninghill, father of the late Chancellor of the Exchequer. He lamented the paucity of religious privileges--and, indeed, nothing can well be more distressing. Mr. Coffey is supposed to have charge of the district, but it is not much that he or anyone can do for these outlying posts. What seems to be required is a priest (two even would not be too many) whose duty it should be to itinerate perpetually among the digging population--it being a first principle of his work and no one place should have any special claim to his services. My two diggers very kindly showed me how the gold was washed out of the dirt in which it is found. There is a great deal of iron sand here--This, from its weight, sinks lower than the earthy matter, but the gold, of course, lower still. So in the "prospecting dish" (which is something like a tin milk pan), when the water is poured off, and the dirt allowed to settle, one sees nothing at first but a mass of this black iron sand. But on inclining the dish, a little piece of sparkling gold dust appears on the edge of the sand; this is carefully removed and in this way my two friends told me they could earn about £8 a week per man. I was afterwards told that this was probably an understatement. We got to Clyde at 5.30. I dined at Mr. Pyke's and went to the "meeting" at 8. There was a good attendance and everybody was amiable. The vote of thanks was most hearty and unanimous--a great contrast, this, to what took place at Queenstown. All my hotel charges and the "buggy" to the lakes and back are paid by these excellent Clyde Churchmen. There is no clergyman here, alas! They are anxious as I before observed to have one, and would guarantee him £350 a year and a house. I said when Mr. Pyke told me this--"I think I shall offer myself. "O", said he "if you will come, we will make it £500." There is little doubt that a thoroughly competent man would get even more--for the diggers are extremely generous, when their hearts are won.

Feb. 28. 3rd Sunday in Lent. One of my uncomfortable Sundays. At 11 I went to "Church" when Mr. Pyke read prayers and a sermon (by Dr. Guthrie), giving the Benediction (!!) at the end. The "Church" is a wretched affair--used once a day (i.e. Sunday) by the Presbyterians. I [136/137] lunched with Mr. Pyke and in the afternoon was driven, by Mr. Beck, to Galloway Station in Mr. Low's. Before I started, Mr. Pyke took me to the Hospital, a well ordered establishment on the banks of the Molyneux. The house surgeon is intelligent, and believes in homoeopathy though he is not allowed to practice it in the Hospital. His conversion, was, as usual, the result of experiment. Various cases of serious disease, incapable of being controlled by the old system yielded to the Homoeopathic mode of treatment. The road to Galloway Station took us past Alexandra, a diggings town of some importance. We did not go through the town but left it on the right--following a somewhat intricate path across an open country, and through a wide and rapid river, the Manukerikia, which falls into the Molyneux close to Alexandra. "Blacks," another gold miners' settlement, we saw on our left hand. All these places and many more in the neighbourhood have a scattered population of some thousands, at present altogether destitute of the Church's ministrations. Mr. & Mrs. Low at Galloway are very charming people. She is a daughter of Dr. Buchanan. I baptized their baby--"Ethel Stanley" and said Evensong in the dining room. We went through part of the "Messiah" in the evening. Mrs. Low sings rather well. My spirits rose under the influence of the cordial sympathy displayed by my host and hostess, and I enjoyed my visit to the Galloway station not a little.

March 1. I meant to have taken the coach to Hamilton's. It passes on its way from Clyde, close to Mr. Low's house. But my kind host offered to lend me a horse, on which to ride as far as Dunedin, if I liked it--a plan which I greatly preferred. So at 10 I set off. A very rough trotter was my steed, and as he refused to canter, I had rather a hard time of it. When I had ridden five miles, my eyeglass fell off. I spent half an hour looking for it--but without success--it had got among the "tussocks" and, perhaps, had been carried off by a woodhen, a bird which is naturally a kleptomaniac. The sun was extremely hot, especially towards noon; soon after which I arrived at Mr. Bell's station. Here I found quite a little village, peopled by the station employees. This was my first unannounced visit to a strange station and I was a little nervous at first. It seemed such a very cool proceeding, to ride up to a man's house, and claim food and shelter, for it comes to that, however meekly you may deport yourself. But the genial and sympathetic manager--Mr. Stronock, soon put me at my ease. He came out to greet me--sent my horse to the stable, and led me into the house, where he entertained me at his family dinner table. Nothing to eat, of course, but mutton, in various forms. After dinner Mr. Stronock most kindly accompanied me quite ten miles on my way, and, more than that, he insisted on my riding his chestnut mare, a most [137/138] delightful goer, after my bone dislocating animal. On our way Mr. S. spoke a good deal about my prospects. He was energetically on my side. I think I won his heart by being able to talk intelligently about cricket, a game in which he takes a deep interest. The road was more or less uphill for nearly the whole ten miles, viz. to the top of "Rough Ridge", a mountain 3,000 feet above the sea. About three miles from the highest point, the ordinary "tussocks" began to disappear, their place being occupied by huge clumps of "snow grass", a most elegant, and useful plant, affording nourishment to the sheep when there is nothing else to be got or seen, for the snow. The leaves are very long, and the plant resembles the Pampas grass--but is much less rigid and serrated. Mr. Stronock left me just after we had passed over the ridge of the mountains. And now commenced my day's difficulties. About 3 miles off, at the foot of the mountain, the descent of which is extremely rapid on this (the S.E.) side, is the station of Mr. Jas. Murison, where I was to stop for an hour. The track down the mountain side was very hard to find, and when found was quite precipitous. I had to get off and lead my horse, using my stick as an "Alpen stock". The last mile of road is through a fine gorge, carpeted with "English grass" which grows luxuriantly here--But before I got so far as this, I stopped to rest on the hill side, under the shadow of a great rock, whence I could enjoy the prospect before me, without being scorched by the intensely hot sun. It was a scene never to be forgotten. The view of the valley, or rather plain, of the Taieri, was quite uninterrupted. From the foot of the Rough Ridge to the other side of the valley the distance is about 10 miles. It looks much less: for except the river winding through the middle, the eye finds nothing to dwell upon, until it reaches the foot of the opposite range of hills. The plain is perfectly level and the hills on either side rise with great abruptness to a considerable height. From where I sat I could just distinguish the settlement--partly mining, partly pastoral called "Hamiltons", nestling under the mountains over against me--Mount Ida, a rather important "digging" settlement, lies more to the northward. I could not make it out, there being a haze in that direction. And now, having thoroughly examined the prospect, I had leisure to remark the (to me) extraordinary stillness that prevailed. The day was perfectly calm. Not a breath of air stirring; and the consequence was that a silence, overpowering in its intensity, reigned on the mountain; and broken only by the champing of my horse's bit, as he made the most of his time in cropping the scanty herbage of the rugged hillside. The absence of all sign of animal life is almost awful. One would give anything for the caw of a rook, or the chirp of a sparrow, or even a sheep bell. There are no flies, or other insects, to be seen or heard. A little brown lizard or two came out of the clefts of the rocks, and played about in the sun. What can they find to live upon? Well, I [138/139] must get on, or I shall be benighted, so down the hill again till I reach the gorge near the foot. Here I meet with evident signs of a habitation close at hand; and in a few minutes I arrive at Mr. Murison's station--called Rough Ridge, after the mountain I had just descended. Nothing can be more snug than its situation. Mr. M. I find is sub manager, and is shortly leaving. He has made a very nice place here. The house is well arranged and furnished and the garden charming. The gum trees have grown wonderfully, so have the apples and other fruit trees. Vegetables and flowers alike look healthy, as is almost invariably the case in this colony. Mr. Murison was extremely kind--He wanted me to stay all night--a tempting proposal--but it is necessary that I should push on. Indoors, I found Mrs. Murison and her mother--the latter only lately arrived from England. I had tea with the family; and then started on my ten miles ride, across the plain. Mr. Murison gave me the choice of two routes: No. 1, easy to find, but longer than No. 2, which though nearly straight, involves a hunt for the ford across the river, which it is possible I may fail to find. As the sun is fast approaching the horizon, I elect the shorter road, Mr. M. exhorting me not to leave the dray track--as long as I can see it. For the first four miles all seems easy enough--but then alas! I come to a spot where there are two dray tracks divergent. Which to take is the question. Probably I made a wrong selection. At any rate, I shortly got into a part of the plain where no track could be discerned. A mob of sheep crossed my path--on their way to the river, no doubt. I determined to follow them in the hope of hitting on a fordable place--Stay--what noise is that? A faint bleat, it sounds like and close at hand--I look about me, and soon discover two unhappy sheep, standing up to their necks in a hole, full of water, with a muddy bottom. Well, they must be got out, no doubt about that. So I dismount, and with my arm through the bridle, proceed to haul the creatures on to dry land. First one, which proves to be an old ewe who ought to have known better than to get into such mischief--then the other--clearly her lamb. What to do with them is the next question. They cannot stand--having probably been in the water some days. The only thing I can think of that is at all likely to benefit them, is blood-letting. So I took out my pen knife and made an incision in the ear of each. Whether it was this operation or what, a decided improvement speedily took place. They both stood up and got with a stumbling kind of walk--so turning their faces away from the water--into which they both seemed inclined to stumble again, I left them. (I was blamed afterwards for taking so much trouble about two sheep, "as if their lives were of any appreciable value to their owners, who probably possessed many thousands".) No doubt--yet to the sheep themselves their lives might have been of some value. At all events it was worth while to try and rescue these poor creatures from such a [139/140] miserable death as they would have met had I not appeared on the scene. I much fear that a good deal of cruelty towards individuals, is the result of looking at sheep in a wholesale way, and considering, as the great flock owners do, any number under 1,000 as hardly worthy of notice. I was also jocularly informed, that so far from having done any good, I had created confusion, by my surgical operation; which of course altered the ear marks, by which the ownership is determined. The episode of the sheep delayed me more than half an hour. Meanwhile the sun had reached the summits of the western heights, and it was growing dusk. The only thing to be done was to make for the river with all speed. In a few minutes I reached the bank, not without difficulty, on account of the density of the tussocks, over which my horse who was getting weary, stumbled constantly. Here is a fordable place, I think. I try, but find the opposite bank too steep, and the bottom to soft to be practicable. So I ride along the bank for a mile, slowly and cautiously, for the darkness deepens, rapidly. Quack-Quack! I hear, a few yards off and, turning my head sharply round, I see a large family of "Paradise ducks", amusing themselves on a bank of mud in the middle of the stream. They are beautiful birds (though geese, not ducks at all) and so tame. Soon I came to a shallower part of the river, which seems to invite me to attempt the passage. And this time I am successful, though the water at one place reaches to my saddle flaps and I only just succeed in keeping my feet dry. The river crossed--my difficulties are at an end:--so, at least, I flatter myself--but I am not more than halfway across the plain yet. How would it be to camp out? The night is warm and calm and these tussocks would yield abundance of materials for bed and blankets. But no, it will be better to push on, as long as my horse has any go in him. The luxuriance of the grass near the river proves a great impediment; but this passed the travelling is better. It is quite dark now, except for a few stars. As soon as the Southern Cross was visible I took the bearings of the hills which I was endeavouring to reach; and to this precaution I attribute the comparative accuracy of the course I steered: for there is nothing to hinder a man, without a guide of this kind, from wandering about the plain all night. My compass was no use, in the dark. Half an hour's ride brought me to another stream, or rather creek, which did not present any difficulties. More than once I rode through a large mob of merinos, to their no small terror. The further side of the valley was reached about 9 o'clock. Here I found a good road; but it was hard to decide except by guesswork whether to turn to the right or left. It is so dark that I cannot see a yard in front of my horse's head. Mr. Murison had told me that Hamilton's station--whither I was bound--was considerably to the left of the digging settlement of the same name--The latter I fancy must be where I see some lights, which I determine to leave behind me, judging that the [140/141] station cannot be very far off. After riding about a mile along the road, I fancied I must be getting too much to the left so I (rather imprudently) struck off in the opposite direction along a promising looking track; which alas; soon brought me into a valley full of huge detached rocks, through which it was hard work to thread my way. There was a large round hill, the circuit of which I found I had been making. I had lost all track now, and was beginning to despair of ever reaching the station. I stopped for a few minutes and practised cooeying. Such a stillness everywhere! More oppressive even than in the daytime. No one responding to my cooeying. I resolved as a dernier resource--to let the horse try to find the way. It soon appeared that he had very decided views of his own on the subject, but I was not at all sure that the water of a neighbouring creek might not be attracting him. No--I see lights ahead, but the track I am pursuing appears to be taking me past them. Yet the horse seems to have no doubt I make a reconnaissance in the direction of the lights, and soon find there is a considerable creek between me and them, so back again to my track, which leads me down a very steep bank, over some dangerous ground that has been sluiced by gold seekers, and is full of holes; through another small creek--after crossing which I am startled to find myself, close to a house, apparently garrisoned by an army of dogs, who bark furiously on my approach My cooeying is not responded [to], possibly not heard, amid the din of canine indignation, so I go on for _ a mile, and, coming to another dwelling, stop and cooey again. A man comes out and, to my great joy and relief, tells me that I am at Hamilton's station, and within a stone's throw of Mr. & Mrs. Rowley and Hamilton's house. In ten minutes more my horse is in the stable, and myself sitting in an easy chair in Mrs. Rowley's drawing room, while my supper is preparing in an adjoining apartment. It is nearly 11 o'clock. I have ridden between 50 and 60 miles since 10 a.m. and am thoroughly and completely knocked up. Mr. Rowley was not at home. He arrived during the night. I was most kindly entertained and Capt. Hamilton being absent, I slept in his room. Mrs. Rowley is a daughter of A'deacon Mathias of Akaroa, Canterbury. She has two children. Her brother was staying in the house.

March 2. I rose, quite refreshed by a good night's rest, at 8. After breakfast, I started for another long ride--about 45 miles--to Mr. Wayne's, Shag Valley. Mr. Rowley and his brother-in-law accompanied me the first 6 miles. For the next ten, I had a companion in the shape of a well bred bay filly, of whom I could not get rid. No one I met seemed to know to whom she belonged. Eventually I stopped at an accommodation house, and got the landlord to put her into a stable. The road by which I am travelling is the regular coach road from the [141/142] Lakes and Clyde, over the "Rock & Pillar" mountain by Palmerston and Waikouaiti to Dunedin. Some parts of it would make an English stage coachman, if there is such a being, stare. I ascended today some of the steepest and worst hills that ever horse, to say nothing of wheels, attempted. On the highest I encountered, a long train of drays, laden with stores for the up country districts each drawn by I forget how many horses, and progressing at the rate of about 2_ miles an hour. From this point there was a very extensive, but not particularly fine, view. This I fancy is part of the Kakanui range. At 1 o'clock, finding myself in a pleasant valley, through which a creek of the clearest water was flowing, I determined to halt and eat my luncheon, viz. a huge sandwich, provided by Mrs. Rowley, and carefully packed in my "swag". My horse meanwhile regaled himself with some delicious "English grass"--We had an hour's rest--I amused myself with a little "prospecting", that is to say, I tried to wash some of the sand taken from the bed of the creek, in an old sardine tin which I picked up on the road side. It is curious, by the way, to notice the number of articles of this kind, that one meets with everywhere along the road. My gold washing was far from successful--not a grain was to be found. The afternoon turned out very fine--it had been cloudy all morning, and I quite enjoyed the latter part of my ride. Mr. D. Bell's station, "Coal Creek" deceived me: I took it for Mr. Wayne's, whither I was bound--and was not a little disappointed on being told that I had five more miles to ride. A little further on I met a gentleman, who spoke to me, mistaking me for Mr. Dasent! This was just as the sun was setting behind a fine grassy height on my left hand, rising abruptly from a noisy creek--Coal Creek, I presume--which skirts the road. Mr. Wayne's house is very superior to any of my former resting places. It is close to the Shag river--or Waihemo, a wide, but shallow, stream, here. Gum trees, which have thriven amazingly, are planted on each side of the house, and give it quite a long established look. Just before I reached it, I crossed a regular village green, where some men and boys were just leaving off playing at cricket--very home-like was this. I found only Mrs. Wayne at home, with Mr. & Mrs. Dasent staying in the house. I was not expected, yet some letters were waiting for me. I was dreadfully tired. A good supper was prepared for me, and my bed being in every respect satisfactory, I was soon in the land of dreams. The letters I received were not encouraging. The "opposition" had gained strength in my absence. I determined to go straight to Dunedin tomorrow.

March 3. I left my horse at Mr. Wayne's, to enjoy the rest he had so well earned, and to find his way back to his owner, when an opportunity presented itself (according to the free and easy custom of the station) and rode on a very nice mare of Mr. Wayne's, to Palmerston; Mr. [142/143] & Mrs. Dasent accompanying me. The day was very hot. At Palmerston I found some newspapers, with English news: among other items, the judgement of Jud. Com. in Mackonochie's case.* [Footnote: * See following paragraphs.] It will be hard to bear at home. I hope people will be temperate, but I fear great discontent, and not a few rows. The coach left Palmerston about 1 and it was 6 before we got to Dunedin. The road, especially from Blueskin Bay was most lovely--The Bush scenery looked wonderfully rich--I found Edwards waiting for me at the Octagon--and letters from home at the Parsonage. All well, thank God! Edwards was in poor spirits about my prospects.

[Footnote above: * At a largely attended meeting of the English Church Union in the Freemason's Tavern on 16 February 1869, a learned and lengthy paper was read by Dr. Pusey. At the conclusion of the lecture which had been frequently cheered throughout and loudly applauded at its termination, the following resolution was passed:

'That this meeting having regard to the position of the Church of England in relation to the Court of Final Appeal, and to the principle which seems to run through its judgment in the case of Martin v. Machonochie as the foundation of its sentence, calls upon all Churchmen to unite in defending and maintaining the great principle on which the Reformation of the English Church was based viz., the appeal to primitive and Catholic antiquity; and further recommends that a memorial from the Union be addressed to the Convocation of both provinces, praying them to take measures for promoting the reform of the Court of Final Appeal.'

Mr. Orby Shipley proposed that the words relating to the Reformation should be struck out as likely to hinder the cause of re-union but Dr. Pusey said 'He thought it would be very inexpedient to omit the words in question, because it would be like throwing a slur upon the Reformation, and it should be borne in mind that whatever was done at that time it was strictly true that apart from individual errors and mistakes the great principle of the Reformation was based upon an appeal to primitive and Catholic antiquity.' Mr. Shipley insisted on putting his amendment which was lost by a very heavy majority an interesting side-light on the mind of the Revival movement with which, we may be certain Bishop Jenner would have agreed. (The Guardian, 17 Feb. 1869, pp.169/70.)

Reactions in England to the Judgment were mixed. Low churchmen thought that too much was conceded to Mackonichie of St. Albans while those who taught Catholic doctrine (whether or not they employed ceremonial) were horrified by the principle that what was not expressly enjoined was forbidden; that a ceremony pious, laudable, and Catholic, and nowhere forbidden was nevertheless illegal because it lacked parliamentary law or rubrical sanction. On the other hand there were many who were nauseated by Mackonichie's subsequent evasions. The editorial of The Guardian for 8 December 1869 has:

'The evidence on the hearing, and Mr. Mackonichie's own argument cannot be read without an unpleasant feeling--the unpleasant feeling in fact which we experience when we meet (to speak very plainly) with evasion and chicane. Mr. Mackonichie does not keep candles lighted during the celebration--he puts them out just before it begins; he does not raise the paten above his head--only as high as his head; he does not go down upon his knees--but bends a knee so that it very nearly, and sometimes quite, touches the ground. End of footnote]

March 4. Edwards went with me to call on Granger after breakfast. I spent all the afternoon indoors. Granger and Dasent dined at the Parsonage, and Miss Jessie Bell, and her brother Harry, came in the evening. Fine day.

March 5. A cold windy day. I wrote a letter to Mr. Oldham in answer to one from him which reached me yesterday. He wants me to state my [143/144] views on certain points--I decline to submit to any new test--but (I told him) if any charge of heterdoxy can be founded on anything that I have said, or am reported to have said, myself, I will defend or evacuate my position. I sent a letter I wrote yesterday to Mr. Smith to the newspaper--it is to appear tomorrow. In the afternoon, Mr. Butterworth kindly drove Mrs. Edwards, Mr. Howorth, and me, out on the Southern road. From Saddle Hill there was a very fine and extensive view over the Taieri Plains--a highly cultivated district. Everywhere the crops of corn are excellent. In the evening Col. & Mrs. Kitchener came. Mrs. K. is a pupil of Chas. Halle's and knows a good deal about Beethoven. Unfortunately she had no music with her. They are going home in the "Ruahine" at the end of the month.

March 6. A splendid day--very warm in the sun. I went with all the Edwardses' by the two o'clock steamer to Port Chalmers. Unspeakably beautiful was the sail down the bay. The islands and wooded banks looked heavenly, revealing fresh beauty at every turn of the circuitous channel. We landed at Port Chalmers, and walked about the place. I had no sooner set foot on the jetty, when an oldish waterman (apparently) placed himself in the way, holding out a basket of peaches. "Take a peach", said he, in a tipsy voice. "No thank you," said I, and tried to escape. It was useless. "Ah, but you must", said my friend, "you are our Bishop, you know"--the word "Bishop" being pronounced with explosive emphasis. Once more I resisted, but I was defeated, and to get rid of the man, I took a peach which I put in my coat pocket, and on which I presently sat, to the detriment of the coat--I fear people who are addicted to "nobblers", are very commonly my supporters; for I had no sooner gained the deck of the Rangitoto which was to take me to the Bluff, than a fishy eyed man, of vast stature, accosted me with much fervid sympathy, and I had no small difficulty in getting him to leave me alone. I found Capt. Wheeler of the Phoebe, on board the Rangitoto. He was very cordial--and we had a long talk before the vessel sailed, he told me that the Blue Jacket had sailed from Lyttelton. At 6 p.m., the Rangitoto got under weigh, and steamed out through the Heads. There was a large number of passengers on board (too large, in fact, for, as I heard afterwards, the captain was heavily fined at Melbourne, for carrying more than his lawful number)--I had tea at 7, after which, feeling a little uncomfortable, for it was rather rough outside, I turned in "all standing". To my annoyance there were two others in my cabin, a very small one too.

March 7. Mid-lent Sunday. I slept well and escaped seasickness. One of my cabin fellows awoke me at daylight by using profane language--Protesting mildly and sleepily, I received a volley of oaths myself. But while I was dressing an hour afterwards, my companion came in with an abject apology. He did not know who I was, he declared, which was [144/145] probably true. I discovered that he was a mauvais sujet called Dr. Shaw--scarcely ever sober, and (of course) a great supporter of mine. Indeed he announced this latter fact himself, with considerable unction. Breakfast at 8.30. At 9 we arrived at the Bluff. We passed several islands, e.g. Ruapuke and the Dog Island, and we got an excellent view of Stewart's Island, which appears to be very beautiful. The Bluff itself looks like an island from most points of view--it is high and bold. The Harbour is excellent, when the entrance, which is rather intricate, is once passed. It is the port of the province of Southland--and ought to be a more important place than it is. The settlement, consisting of a few small houses, is called Campbell Town. There is a railway hence to Invercargill, a distance of 17 miles. I landed, and walked about the place. A Mr. Longuet, whom I met on the road, kindly invited me into his house. At 10.30 the train came in from Invercargill, bringing Mr. Butts, the postmaster to meet me. We returned together at 11--reaching Invercargill at 12. A most forlorn place, this, the most Southern town in the world. It is built on a vast plain. The area of the "town" is immense, the streets being as wide as Regent Sweet: but the early promise of the place has never been fulfilled, and the dwellings are far between, and moreover, are rapidly decaying. All are of wood--the trottoirs of the streets are also of wood--a sort of grating formed by laying pieces 4 inches square, across, about 2 inches apart. An unspeakably dreary appearance is caused by the dead trees of a half cleared bush remaining close to the town, and sometimes even amongst the houses, on the outskirts. Mr. & Mrs. Tanner received me most kindly. I went to Evensong at 6.30. The Church, a wooden building, must I suppose be called passable for N. Zealand. The congregation was good, and the choir, of men and women, sang very well. Mr. C. R. Marten was one of them. He came and spent the evening at the Parsonage. It was a great pleasure to me to make his acquaintance, after our three year's correspondence.

March 8. A very wet morning. I stayed indoors till 3. C. R. Marten called and remained a long time. In the afternoon I went into the town. Tanner took me to the "Club", and introduced me to several of the Southland "Squattocracy": and to Mr. Kingsland, the Choir master, who is an Ashford man, and knows all Kent. In the evening some ladies came to tea--In the absence of Mr. Tanner, who had to go to a vestry, I did my best to entertain them.

March 9. A fine day. Mr. Tanner went to Riverton. I sat indoors, writing, all the morning. Two or three people called. In the afternoon, I walked out with Mr. McCullock, a Deal man, who took me to his house, and to a "Flower Show" which was going on. The only things worth looking at were the "roots"--which were very fine. The McCullock's came to tea and were very pleasant. She is a R.C. from Co. Cork, not a very strict one, I fear.

[146] March 10. Finished transcribing my diary up to this date and wrote some letters home. It rained all the morning, but cleared up at noon. I got a queer letter from a Mr. Irvine, whom I found on enquiry to be slightly cracked. We all went to tea at the McCullock's. Rather a pleasant party. Some very indifferent music, till C. R. Marten arrived. He sings well--and knows a good deal about music and compositions.

March 11. Indoors most of the day. Mr. Oldham called. I was with him for half an hour conversing most amicably. In the evening there was a grand "tea fight" at the Club, which went off very successfully. Mr. Tanner introduced me to everybody. I made two speeches, which were very well received, and (I was told) converted many opponents. Mr. McCullock (who is the resident magistrate) proposed a vote of thanks and welcome to me, which was carried by acclamation. A great number of people were present. Mr. Oldham did not appear. There was some singing, in part of which I joined. It was rather poor.

March 12. At 2.30 I left for Riverton, on a chestnut horse. Mr. Tanner riding with me part of the way. The road passes through a very pretty bush--the "town belt", I think, of Invercargill. It was full of Bell birds and Tuis, which sing delightfully. Many of the trees were on fire, a further clearing being in progress. A sad pity it seemed. A little further on, a well built wooden bridge spans the estuary of the Orete, or New River. There is a turnpike gate at one end. I suggested that clergymen ought to pass through without paying, but the toll-taker civilly enough, informed me that it was private property on which no exemptions were ever allowed. Two miles more brought me to an extensive sandy plain peopled by innumerable rabbits, which are becoming a serious nuisance, I heard. All this time I was approaching the ocean, and after a five mile ride from Invercargill, I emerged upon a beach stretching for 14 miles--until Riverton is reached. It was nearly low water, and the riding was very good, or would have been if my steed had been better behaved. He was a terrible slug, and shied violently at all the common and uncommon objects on the sea shore. Very bleak and bare was the country indeed. Seawards, through the haze, beyond the mighty rollers that eternally break on the flat sandy beach, rise the grand heights of Stewart's Island--Behind the Bluff appears, looking like an island, as Bishop Selwyn notices in his journal. Now and then you catch a glimpse of snow-capped mountains, to the north. These are part of the Moonlight Range As you advance along the sands, the bay curves suddenly round, and a beautiful wooded headland seems to bar all progress in that direction. This is some distance beyond River-ton. There was no lack of objects of interest on the beach. Immense quantities of seafowl accompanied me, of several kinds and sizes. I was struck with a black and white bird, with a red bill, about the size of a curlew. It was singularly tame and inquisitive, and would run almost under the horses feet as I rode along. There were sea weeds and shells [146/147] and sponges without end. Innumerable vertebra and other bones of whales lay about everywhere, some of a monstrous size. And in a space of 7 miles, I passed three vessels that had been wrecked at various times--more or less imbedded in the sand. One must have been lost many many years ago--for the timbers alone, remain, and of these only the tops are visible. A terrible and hopeless lee shore, this, I should imagine. These ships must have been caught in a "southerly burster", and gone ashore in running for the Bluff. About 5 miles from Riverton, a river, the Waimatook(?) has to be crossed. I had some little difficulty in finding a practicable ford. It was about 6 when I got to Riverton. The way into the town from the beach took me through a Maori cemetery (there being a village close at hand, though very few of the huts are left) and past their little wooden chapel, the gates of which were decorated with crosses. Then came a quarter of a mile of half clear bush--where "English grass", growing in profusion, makes a pleasant surface for the horses's feet. I asked my way to Mr. Oldham's, which is at the further end of the town. He had expected me earlier. I received great kindness and attention from Mr. & Mrs. O. In the evening the churchwardens and others came in. I was very bad company, I fear, being terribly fatigued and sleepy. I had a very comfortable room, and was not sorry to get to bed.

March 13. An excellent night's rest. I was up by 8, and after breakfast set to work finishing up letters for the horse mail. At 12, Mr. Nurse arrived, with another gentleman, and at 2 we all set out, Mr. Oldham accompanying us part of the way, for Mr. Nurse's residence Blackwater Station, about 8 miles from Riverton. For the first three miles there was a fair road, then we struck off across a rough moorland country--through tracts of fern and flax. The fern is the common "brake" of N. Zealand. Pteris aquiliua var esculenta--It has quite the same effect as our brake. The flax, i.e. Phormium-tenax is very fine here, often above my head as I rode through it. My horse goes better in company with others--but we were very nearly coming to grief in crossing a boggy place in a steep gully where the horse sunk nearly to his shoulders in a very tenacious clay. Mr. Nurse's house is charmingly placed on the northern (the sunnyside here) edge of a most lovely birch bush. The birch, which by the way is a beech--Fagus is a splendid tree with a white bark, the branches and trunks of the older specimens clothed with the most luxuriant growth of mosses, lichens and ferns. A prostrate trunk is a perfect cryptogamic garden. In a birch bush, there is hardly any undergrowth or "scrub"; in which it differs from all other N.Z. forests. I found several ladies here among others Mrs. Hector, wife of Dr. H. and Miss Taylor, the daughter of the Superintendent of Southland, besides Mrs. Nurse and her mother, Mrs. Price. There is a [147/148] little girl here, called Amy (Nurse), two years old. I showed her the photo of my Amy, at the same age.

March 14. Passion Sunday. A lovely morning--but the wind having got to the N.W. the heat all day was intense. I got up in good time, and took a walk in the bush before breakfast. Very enjoyable it was. One can penetrate to any distance on account of the absence of scrub. I was much struck with a species of Asplenium, of light and pendulous habit--which hung like so much long hair from the highest branches of the "birch". A long grey lichen, also, was conspicuous on the decaying limbs of the older trees, like the silvery locks of venerable age. At 11 I had matins in the living room, after which I read a chapter of the "Imitation". Only the family attended. I had hoped that some of the farm servants would have come. This station, by the way, is quite a farm house--the land belonging to it being cultivated. The wheat is not all cut yet. At 2 p.m. Mr. Nurse and I set off for Ryal Bush--(Martendale). It is 20 miles off, and we had a hot and fatiguing ride over an uninteresting country--the greater part being moorland with bits of forest here and there. We passed two or three habitations, and met a few travellers--but the population is miserably scanty. Mr. Nurse was a very agreeable companion. He is much dissatisfied with the state of church affairs here, as well he may be. I think he means to be a candidate for the D. Synod. We got to Ryal Bush just in time for service, which consisted of Evensong and Celebration--a curious and highly unsatisfactory combination--though I do not see how it is to be helped, where the population is so scattered, and distant from the Church. There was a good congregation, 20 of whom communicated. The church is a very small wooden building, with a decently arranged & vested Altar. Mr. C. R. Marten was at the Harmonium. The singing was not very brilliant. The situation of Martendale is delightful. Here there is a dense bush, quite impenetrable, which shelters the house from the South winds. The garden is almost old fashioned looking, having been planted 12 years ago a long time in a young colony. There are flourishing apple, plum and cherry trees--as well as currant and raspberry bushes. Of apples, especially, there is great abundance. The family consists of Mr. & Mrs. M., three sons and three daughters. It is very curious to find myself here at last, after the 3 years correspondence with the place, and many wonderings, what it was like. The Celebration today, unsatisfactory as it was in some respects, was an unspeakable comfort to me. They are grievously few and far between, now, compared with what they were. I forgot to say that Mr. Tanner was the officiant at today's services.

March 15. The hardest bed I ever slept on, did not hinder me from enjoying a good night's rest. I was awakened at 6.30 by the combined [148/149] songs of Bell birds, Tuis and woodhens the latter makes a great and not melodious noise, but the other two birds are charming. I sent my letters and journal up to this date, to the post at Wallacetown--3 miles off. In the afternoon I walked out with old Mr. Marten and looked at one of the boys felling a dead tree--a large "black pine"--in a part of the bush about _ a mile to the N.W. of the house. I greatly admired the exceeding beauty and snugness of their little homestead. There is a large paddock of .excellent grass in front--with the stockyard (for Mr. Marten feeds bullocks not sheep) in the middle. Their garden is fenced on the N. by the finest sweetbriar hedge I ever saw, to which Cabbage trees standing at regular intervals, give a singularly picturesque character. The bush, after running in a straight line on each side of the house for about half a mile, makes a turn at right angles on the Western side, and then begins a sort of fringe of Manuka trees, which, seen from a little distance: are marvellously beautiful. The habit of the foliage is light and feathery; these specimens are 40 feet high and are set off by a background of lofty black and white pine, and other forest trees, of which there seems an endless variety. In the evening Mr. C. R. M. and I sang some duets, and he accompanied himself and me in various songs. He has a remarkably good tenor voice (with a chest B flat) and sings extremely well. The heat has been great all day. No wind at all.

March 16. The morning was chilly till about 9 a.m. when the sun began to have great power. Mr. Marten took me into the bush after breakfast. It was difficult to find the path, which indeed hardly deserved the name, being swampy and much overgrown. But the trouble of penetrating into the bush was well repaid by the sight of several exquisite ferns. Hymeniphyllum Tunbridgeuze is quite common here--and another and larger species of the same genus--H. Colensoi, is found in good sized clumps. As we were returning, I became aware of a most overpowering stench--which I could not at all account for. It was nearly an hour before my nostrils got rid of it. I discovered that it arose from my having accidentally come in contact with the most offensive tree, I should think in the world--the odour of which is exactly described and by no means exaggerated, by its generic and specific names, viz. Coprosma foetidiss. In the afternoon the heat of the day being intense, I sat reading indoors till 5, when I went out for a walk by myself. I entered the bush in another direction, where the walking was pretty good, as many of the trees had been felled. I saw an amazing number of ferns, again. The commonest is a Polystichum, which grows everywhere There are no fern trees about--but a tree fern in its earlier stage, occurs here and there--this is Cyathea dealbata. I sat down with a book for half an hour, on the trunk of a prostrate tree, [149/150] and watched the birds, which, it seems, are always busy and excited just before sundown. I noticed some good sized pigeons, a great number of Tuis, N.Z. "Tom tits" and robins and ought to have seen some ka-kas, a large grey parrot, which abound here, and is very destructive in the gardens, but none appeared. The native robin is exactly like ours in habits and manner--but he is dressed in a dark grey--almost black coat with a dirty white waistcoat. More music in the evening, C. R. M's musical library is very extensive and excellent.

March 17. A hot N.W. wind set in this morning, and the effect was curiously depressing. All the morning, I sat reading under a noble black pine in the garden, just outside the bush. C. R. M. went to Invercargill on my horse. The wind was strong all day. In the evening there was lightning.

March 18. C. R. M. returned at 8 a.m. He brought news of an "earthquake wave" having been experienced on the west coast. It was very much colder today. No wind--but showers at intervals. A bell bird was singing all day in the garden. The tune seemed to vary in different individuals. I wrote letters to Edwards, Stanford and Mrs. F. Jones.

March 19. A fine morning, but showery during the day. Mr. C. R. M. is the Southland meteorologist, and seems to be held personally responsible for bad weather. I meant to have left for the North this morning, but the Martens persuaded me to remain till Monday. And indeed I shall not be sorry to have my Palm Sunday in a civilized place. Today there was a ceremony in the stock yard, which I was glad to have seen once--but should not care to see again--the branding of some of the stock. This, it seems, is required by law. The animals had been mustered and driven into the paddock, the day before, by the younger Martens, armed with tremendous stock whips. This morning they were driven into the stock yard, which only just held them, and where they did nothing but hustle and tumble over each other, and get their horns and legs entangled. When a bullock was wanted, a rope was thrown over his horns, and another round one of this hindlegs: both ropes were then hauled in, and made fast to the stockyard fence. The struggles of some of the creatures were prodigious--One young bull gave very great trouble--He bellowed and fought most energetically--and was only subdued by the united efforts of the whole establishment--ladies excepted--including myself. The brand, a red hot iron, is applied to the hip, and it is not pleasant to hear it hissing into the flesh. Mr. Marten's brand is OX--every stock owner has a distinctive one, which must be registered. The ropes used today were new ones, made of Phormium, and marvellously well they stood the severe strain to which they were [150/151] subjected. In the evening, the young ladies having borrowed "Alice" from a neighbour, I read it aloud, to the gratification of the company. Southland surely cannot be in so hopeless a state as people make out--if it possesses a copy of "Alice". Old Mr. Marten is suffering from Chronic rheumatism. People do not seem to have what we call "colds" here. As for me, I have not had an ailment of any kind since I landed at Wellington. Mr. Marten was in wretched health, when he left England 12 years ago but the voyage and the climate of N.Z. quite restored him.

March 20. The greater part of the day was fine, but there was rain in the evening. I spent all the forenoon in my retreat in the garden, reading. After dinner Mr. Tanner came and stayed an hour: I had a conversation with him on the state of affairs. I observe a desire springing up, that I should get the members of the Church out of the mess they are in, by resigning before the Diocesan Synod comes to vote on the question of my claims. But I have positively made up my mind not to resign. The Synod will have to decide (although it is a case not for the Diocesan but the General Synod, and ought to have been decided last October) whether the engagement made with me by the N. Zealand Church, in virtue of which I received the episcopal character is to be fulfilled or not. The non-fulfilment by the Church here of its side of the contract would inflict on me an injury such as few have ever suffered, and for which there must be a remedy. The bitter hostility of my opponents and traducers: the hard, unsympathizing bearing of Bishop Harper: the degradation to which that unheard of step, the inhibiting, has exposed me:--and the unscrupulous electioneering tactics resorted to by, or in behalf of the "opposition" candidates for seats in the Synod; justify me, I do think, in reminding churchmen, that, although I have kept my claims in the background hitherto, preferring to be chosen by the voluntary action of the church, the main question to be decided is whether anything has been done to vitiate the engagement under which I was consecrated. I must put all into the form of a letter, and publish it before the 7 April.

March 21. Palm Sunday. A most violent storm of hail and rain at 9 a.m. I said Matins and read the Epistle and Gospel, with a short piece on the Passion, which I had translated from L de G. on board the Ruahine. C. R. M. played Venite, Benedicite and Benedictus on the piano, and we sang them to (a) Farrant in F (2) 8th Tune 1st Ending (3) 1st Tune 1st Ending. It was a treat to join in the dear old tunes again. Mr. H. Armstrong came in during the service (which was held in the sitting room) and Dr. Hector afterwards. They stayed for dinner. It rained and blew hard the whole day. A "Southerly Burster" this, and very cold and raw it was. At 6.30 I said Evensong, and we chanted [151/152] again. Magn. to 1st and Nunc D. to 3rd tune. We sang "Gloria laus et honor" after service. My thoughts were much at Preston today, and dwelling on the services there this week. The scantiness of Church privileges here is quite awful. At Invercargill there are no services in Holy Week, except on Good Friday.

March 22. Monday in H. W. A most tremendous gale, still from S.W. with torrents of rain nearly all day. At 1 I left my kind friends, and rode to Invercargill. They all expressed, and, I know, felt, regret at parting with me. When shall I see Martendale again, I wonder? C. R. M. accompanied me most part of the way. The rain came on so furiously that we had to take shelter for _ an hour in the stable of an accommodation house. The landlord came out, and was most obliging. He insisted on lending me a white mackintosh, in which I must have looked a pretty figure, but which kept me quite dry. The wind today was more violent than I ever remember to have felt it. I got to Invercargill at 3. Mr. McCullock and Mr. Hankinson came in the evening. And Dr. Hector looked in, and we had a talk about the botany of Southland. He was good enough to pay me a compliment for my botanical proficiency! He named more ferns I had brought from Ryal Bush. Mrs. Carrick, Mrs. Tanner's mother, is extremely--I fear hopelessly--ill.

March 23. Tuesday in H. W. The gale still continues (and seems even to increase in violence) with heavy rain. It makes it extremely awkward for me--since it is impossible to leave in such weather; the roads, not to mention the rivers, being utterly impassable, and the sea frightful. I had arranged to spend Good Friday at Tokomairiro, and Easter at Green Island (Dunedin) but this is out of the question now. I remained indoors all day. Mr. Butts called in the afternoon. We were invited to spend the evening at the Superintendent's (Mr. Taylor) but I was glad to have the weather as an excuse for declining.

March 24, Wedn. in H. W. A most awful night--the weather seems getting worse. This house is by no means weather tight, and the dining room was flooded in the night. No going out today. The good people of Tuapeka have been passing some idiotic resolutions about me, nearly identical with those adopted at Queenstown, only sillier and ruder. So I read today in a Southland paper. Dr. Deek called to see Mrs. Carrick (who is getting weaker) I had some talk with him about Homoeopathy, to which he is a convert.

March 25. Maundy Thursday & Annunciation. An improvement in the weather. The wind having changed and subsided, it was pleasant and mild till the afternoon, when it began to rain and blow again. I walked out with Tanner, and posted letters to Stanford and Mrs. F. [152/153] Jones, explaining the cause of my detention here. I intend, if possible, to leave (overland) on Monday.

March 26. Good Friday. Incessant rain all day. On the whole a better Good Friday than I had hoped for. The services were tolerable, and there were opportunities of retirement. Matins at 11. About 35 present. The singing was not bad, but Te Deum sounded very odd today. Hymn 100 (A & M) quite did for me. I could hardly sing a line of it. I got on better in 101--which is not a Preston Hymn. Mr. T. preached for 12 minutes. I walked from Church with Mr. Macrosie, brother of the Bishop.* [Footnote: * The Right Revd. William Kenneth Macrorie, Bishop of Pieter--Maritzburgh.] He was very indignant with the "Opposition". We had Evensong at 7. Only 12 people present. The singing was very poor--there was no sermon. I wonder whether they had all the usual Good Friday services at Preston. The dear old parish was much in my thoughts today.

March 27. Easter Eve. A tolerably fine day. I took a walk with Mr. and Mrs. Tanner, in the forenoon. There is a hitch it seems about Easter Day. The Paschal full moon happens here on Sunday (tomorrow) so, according to the letter of the rule, Easter Day ought to be tomorrow week, and in the government almanacks it is actually so marked. I believe there is likely to be some difficulty and confusion in the matter. In the evening I drilled the S. John's Choir. We had a very satisfactory practice.

March 28. Easter Day. A very fine day--not much like former Easters, however. The services were fairly attended, and the singing was much improved--most of the faults that I had pointed out being corrected. Not more than 20 communicants. A young man, whom I afterwards discovered to be Mr. H. Gibbs, a member of the congregation of Christchurch, Clapham, was at Church, and behaved with exceptional (alas!) reverence. He left England last year, and has been staying at Dunedin, where, indeed, I met him. I sat in the choir, and sang alto. I was following the Preston services all day in my mind.

March 29. Easter Monday. Mr. C. R. Marten, who came into town on Saturday for the Easter services, went out with Mr. Tanner to get people to vote for the right candidates for seats in the D. Synod. They were very successful and will probably turn the scale. Not that it matters much. Miss Tanner arrived in the afternoon. Mr. Webster and Mr. Gibbs came in the evening. So did Mr. & Mrs. Moore (Mr. M. is an opposition candidate) they were very agreeable. A lovely day!

March 30. Easter Tuesday. Mr. Butts and Mr Macrosie came at 9 a.m. with a number of votes. McCullock and Baker seem safe to be elected. At 2 I took leave of the Tanners with much regret. They have been most kind and attentive. I went by rail to the Bluff, hoping to set off [153/154] this evening, by the Gothenburg, to Dunedin. She ought to have arrived from Melbourne--but did not. I slept at Mr. Longuet's. Mr. O'Toole his son-in-law was at the house all the evening. He takes a very right view of the present controversy. He and Mr. Longuet seem firm believers in the future prosperity of Southland. Ainsi soit il. There is no doubt that gold exists everywhere in the province, as well as in Stewart's Island. Mr. Longuet told me also that Platinum is found in considerable quantities in the sand of the beach to the westward of the Bluff. And he showed me a small tin box full of rubies, some of a respectable size, which he had picked out of the same sand. 'He says there is "any amount" of them. Mr. Longuet has a charming garden, but the late gales have well nigh wrecked all the flowers. He has a pond in which are a number of Tasmanian perch and carp. It rained nearly all day--but there was no wind.

March 31. The Gothenburg arrived at 10 last night--but anchored outside, and did not get alongside the jetty till 9.30 this morning. After breakfast Mr. Longuet took me out on the beach. It was low water, and he had a large landing net with which he proposed to catch some shrimps. It was wonderful what success he had. The shrimps abounded in the pools left by the receding tide, whence Mr. Longuet scooped them out with his net by hundreds. They were remarkably fine and large. There are prawns, it seems, to be caught on the rocks further out; and oysters are found all along the coast. The finest, however, come from Stewart's Island. These, I am told, are very excellent. Fish of various kinds may be caught, but few people trouble themselves to catch them. That is one evil of the scanty population. There is not enough men for all the branches of industry that offer themselves, so the resources of the Colony remain undeveloped. The best sort of fish, according to Mr. Longuet, is the "Trumpeter". At 12 Capt. Underwood of the Gothenburg came up to call on my host; and with him some of the passengers from Melbourne--two gentlemen and four young ladies. Mr. Tanner and his sister with Miss Bree came by the 3 o'clock train to the Bluff. They--the two ladies--were going northward, and had taken their passage by the Lord Ashley. This made me regret that I was committed to the Gothenburg; but I was very comfortable in her. Both vessels left together, and kept together the greater part of the trip to Otago Heads. The sea was perfectly smooth. This is a charming way of travelling. I sat, and walked about, on deck till it grew dusk, talking, the greater part of the time, to a Miss Richardson, one of the young lady passengers above mentioned, a Tasmanian. She had lived at Petworth, and knew Edmund Jenner quite well. At 7.30 we had tea, a very good meal--I produced the shrimps, which Mrs. Longuet had boiled and put up for me. They were highly appreciated--but they did not come up to the Regwell Bay Crustaceans. They [154/155] were pink, not brown, when boiled. At 10.30 I turned in--I had a comfortable berth, though my cabin was shared with another man.

April 1. I had an excellent night's rest, and when I awoke we were stopping just outside the Otago Heads. This was about 5 a.m. I had another nap, and turned out at 6.30. Breakfast was served at 8, after we had anchored off Port Chalmers. The morning was most glorious. After breakfast the Golden Age came alongside, and took me and others up to Dunedin. It was very warm. The view, or rather views, of the Port and Bay were indescribably lovely. It is singular, that N.Z. scenery always looks best in the morning. This autumn scene will always remain one of the choicest of my gallery of mental pictures. Mr. Edwards met me at the jetty and took me home. Mr. F. Jones is unwell, so I am to stay at Dunedin till Saturday. The election business is still going on--favourably for the "opposition". The Bp. of Christchurch comes on Tuesday--when I am to go to Mr. Pitt's, Blueskin Bay. In the afternoon, I walked out with Edwards. Called on Mrs. Smith--Mr. Smith and Mrs. and Miss Bell came in the evening. It is feared that Mr. Smith will not be in the Synod at all.

April 2. Another lovely day, though it rained in the evening. I was writing most of the day. There was a children's party, given by Mrs. F. Jones, at St. George's Hall--went at 6, and stayed till past 10. I was introduced to several people. Among them were two Mrs. Cargills. One, a most vivacious old lady of 76, widow of the original founder of this settlement.* [Footnote: * Capt. William Cargill was a veteran of the Peninsular War. 'Co-founder' might be more accurate since he shared the honour with the Revd. Thomas Burns, nephew of the poet. They landed in Otago Harbour with two parties of settlers in 1848.] The other her niece-in-law. Both are Presbyterians, and had a great horror of me, but we got on very comfortably, and I heard afterwards that I turned out to be "quite a different kind of man from what they had expected". The party was a very good one--a profusion of eatables and drinkables. The children struck me as very pretty for the most part--but, with some exception, ungainly. The Bells (boys) would pass muster among any Harrow or Eton boys at home. It was difficult to get my darlings out of my head all the evening. At about 9, the party developed itself into a grown up one, which gave me a good opportunity of observing Dunedin "society". Altogether it was by no means below par. I had some pleasant conversation with Mr. Gellibrand, Mrs. Jas. Smith's brother, during the evening. Mr. Low was present and his wife. He asked me what I had done with his horse! I was to have left it either at Mr. Wayne's, or at his father-in-law, Dr. Buchanan's--and he had not heard which I had elected.

April 3. Cold and showery. We heard this morning that McCullock and Baker were returned for Invercargill. I did some good then by [155/156] visiting Southland. At 5 I went with Mr. & Mrs. F. Jones to Green Island, five miles from Dunedin. The house is extremely comfortable and well furnished, though horribly ugly. There is a most splendid view of the ocean, and coasts. One exquisite feature in the prospect, is a small island two miles from land, against which the sea perpetually breaks. Mr. & Mrs. Jones have one child, a daughter, a huge girl of 10--looks 17.

April 4. Low Sunday. A heavy S.W. gale with rain: I drove Mr. Jones buggy and pair into Dunedin, for service at S. Paul's. The horses were rather fiery, and wanted to gallop down all the hills, and as the hills were very steep and had awkward turns, a good deal of driving was required. Mrs. Edwards would not believe at first that Mr. Jones had trusted me with his equipage. The roads were in a dreadful state, showers of mud were perpetually flying about, and (unlike the mud thrown by Messrs. Young, Watt & Co) sticking wherever it fell. So we were pretty figures when we arrived at the Parsonage. There was a small congregation, and 21 communicants. Edwards preached a remarkably good sermon--Job XIX.25. Wonderfully apropos of the Synod next Wednesday, was the 2nd Lesson, Acts 1. The mail brought no letters from Preston, a heavy disappointment. The alteration of the mail day, consequent upon the discontinuance of the Panama line, must have put them out at home. I got letters from Charlotte, Arthur (who wants to come to N.Z.), and Rosie Saunders. Mr. Jas. Smith will be in the Synod after all, having been returned for the Maniototo. Back again to Green Island after service. The rain continues, and the mud is worse than ever. No more church today--I said a short service with the family in the evening.

April 5. Another rainy day. After breakfast, I wrote in Mr. Jones's den until luncheon. At 3.30 I drove the "Express" and pair to Dunedin. The horses went much more soberly today. I remained at the Parsonage--Messrs. Smith and Granger came in the evening, and we talked over the state of affairs. Mr. S. has a resolution to propose at the Synod which will raise the whole question of my appointment. I sent a letter to the Bishop of Christchurch, protesting against the treatment I had received from him, and calling on him, as Primate of the N.Z. Church, to see that justice is done to me.* [Footnote: See paragraphs below.] At supper we had a dish of what the newspapers here call "luscious bivalves" i.e. oysters, from Stewart's Island--most excellent they were. Edwards and Granger wanted me to stay at Dunedin to meet Bishop Harper--but I did not think it advisable, for his sake, or my own. So I leave tomorrow for Blueskin Bay.

[Footnote above: * Dunedin, April 5th 1869

My Lord I beg leave to address your Lordship in your two-fold capacity, as Metropolitan of the New Zealand Church, and Bishop, for the present, of the Diocese of [156n/157n] Dunedin. I trust that your Lordship will communicate the few words that follow to the Standing Commission of the General Synod, and to the Diocesan Synod of Dunedin.

1. Referring first to the resolution passed by the General Synod last October, in which I am requested, for the sake of the peace of the Church, to resign my claim to the position of Bishop of Dunedin, I beg to state that, having, by careful enquiry, and by experience gained during a tour through the Diocese, satisfied myself that the peace of the Church will in no wise be secured by such resignation, I respectfully decline to comply with the request.

2. In the second place, to approach a most painful subject, I am reluctantly constrained to advert to the disgraceful and humiliating position which, by an arbitrary exercise--not to call it stretch--of your Lordship's authority, I have been forced to occupy during the last two months. My Lord, I beg to record, in the face of the Church, my most solemn protest against the insult offered to me, and to the office which we bear in common, and renewed, be it observed, again and again, on every occasion on which I have participated in the public worship of the Church. And to avoid misunderstanding as to the extent of the indignity and my own acquiescence in the sentence passed by your Lordship, I beg to say that it is not only to the private letter wherein your Lordship urged me to "abstain from all attempts to officiate, or in any way to exercise my office as a Bishop or as a Minister of our Church in Otago and Southland," that I allude. For, having myself resolved before I heard from your Lordship not to officiate in New Zealand until my status should be more clearly defined, I should have had no reason to complain had you contented yourself with a private intimation of your wishes. But I refer also to the telegram--("Bishop Jenner has come out without authority from me; nor do I propose giving him authority to officiate in Otago or Southland. H.J.C., Christchurch")--sent by your Lordship to a gentleman at Dunedin applying to you in the avowed character of spokesman of my opponents, and requesting an answer for the satisfaction of those with whom he was acting; and to your letter to your commissary, the Rev. E. G. Edwards, requiring him to communicate to the clergy of the diocese your refusal to allow me to officiate. And I say that these three utterances taken together, can bear but one interpretation, namely, that it was your Lordship's intention, deliberately and publicly, to inhibit me from ministering even as an ordinary clergyman in that diocese, for the oversight of which I received consecration. The natural effect of this degrading inhibition (whatever its intention) has been not only to place me under a very serious disadvantage in my character of aspirant to the See of Dunedin; but also to give great encouragement to those who are banded together in opposition to my aims. For it is to be borne in mind, that the measures adopted by your Lordship were those suggested, not to say dictated, by the opponents themselves. Once more, my Lord, I protest against the attitude thus assumed by you.

3. In conclusion, I beg leave to remind your Lordship, and through you the Church in New Zealand, of a circumstance which I cannot but think has been unjustifiably kept out of sight--the existence, namely, of an engagement of the strongest moral, if not legal, obligation between this branch of the Church and myself, in virtue of which alone I am in possession of the Episcopal character. Thus, my Lord, I present myself, not for the first time, before the New Zealand Church, as a party to this solemn contract, the fulfilment of which I claim as due to me on the commonest principles of justice, honour, and morality. And unless it can be shown that the contract has been nullified by any act of mine, I respectfully call upon your Lordship, as head of the New Zealand Church, to take such measures as the law of the Church, prescribes for its fulfilment, that is to say, for placing me in actual and formal possession of the See, for the occupation of which, and for no other purpose, I was consecrated a Bishop.

I have the honour to be, &c.,
"A Bishop of the United Church of England and Ireland, in the Colony of New Zealand."]

[158] April 6. At 8 a.m. I started by coach for Dr. Buchanan's station on the Port Chalmers' road. The morning was fine and bright. The coachman by mistake took me some distance past the house, and I had to carry my bag a mile back. The Buchanans have a very nice place. They gave me some breakfast, and then took me in their "express" to the Waitati. The last time I travelled this road, the weather was wretched, and prevented me from enjoying the scenery. Today it was very different. The beauty of the prospects defies all description. For the first four miles after leaving Dr. Buchanan's house (which is three miles from Dunedin) the road gets more exquisitely lovely every step. The greater part is through the bush, which is being rapidly cleared, especially where Manuka timber is growing. This is the firewood of New Zealand. It burns to perfection, and I imagine Dunedin is supplied from the forests we passed. It is cut up and sent down the steep hillside on which it grows, by means of wooden trough like "ways". But the timber is not all Manuka. On the level ground on the top of the hill overlooking Port Chalmers there is a profuse conglomeration of all kinds of trees--black and white pines, cabbage trees, wild fig (as it is called, though only on account of the resemblance in leaf and branch to our fig) supplejack--and numberless other creepers, twisted and matted among the branches--and the brilliant leaved tutu, spreading luxuriantly over the road side banks. Tree ferns of course here and there, and of their humbler but not less lovely congeners a countless variety. The view, from this point of the bay near Pt. Chalmers, with its islands and promontories the bush just mentioned in the foreground, and the deep blue of the limitless Pacific in the distance, I do not believe can be surpassed, if equalled, anywhere on this earth. The road is said to be clumsily engineered. Certainly it appears to wind about, to a needless extent--but this is an advantage as far as the scenery is concerned. At one turn, at least four miles from our starting place, we stopped, and, looking back, the city of Dunedin appeared quite close to us--on account of the zigzag course we had steered. The approach to the Waitati, a very long incline, very steep in some places, is almost as fine as the ascent from Dunedin. At the Waitati Hotel, Mr. Pitt was waiting for me. Dr. Webster and Mr. Graham were there also. The former on his way to the Synod. Mr. Pitt drove me across the sands of Blueskin Bay, to his house, which bears the name of Warrington. The situation is magnificent, almost on the edge of the low cliff, which here forms a rampart against the Pacific. There is a noble view over the ocean. The Otago Heads on the South extremity of the bay are close enough to allow all vessels going in or out to be very plainly observed. In the afternoon Mrs. Pitt took me for a walk in the Bush which clothes the heights above the house. Very pretty it was. Mr. Pitt feeds a few hundred sheep, and keeps turkeys (magnificent black ones), poultry, [158/159] pigs, and several horses. There is a good extent of cleared land, with English grass appearing everywhere, a cabbage tree here and there, serves for a land mark. I gave Mrs. Pitt a set of Altar linen for a new church which she is going to build here. It is to be of wood, and I am to get her a design. In the evening a Mr. Maclean arrived and stayed to dinner. He is a Candidate for a seat in the Provincial Council. I liked him, though he was very Scotch. He amused us with anecdotes of his electioneering adventures. At one meeting in this neighbourhood, an intelligent elector asked him, among other questions, whether he would vote for abolishing the Harmonium! meaning honorarium--i.e. the fee of a pound a day that every member gets during the session.

April 7. The weather which last night was threatening, has cleared up. The morning is calm and bright, and the bay and ocean beyond are looking magnificent. Turn in what direction you will, the view, especially in the early morning, is exquisite. Autumn is rapidly advancing, yet the Bush is as green, and the foliage as massive as ever. We went to the Waitati at 9.30. There was a cattle show. The exhibition was not very wonderful, except that here again the roots were marvellously fine. A mangelwurzel weighing 38 lbs, grown without manure, is, I am told, nothing uncommon. There was a magnificent display of butter--the best I ever saw. Most of the roughs of Otago were congregated at the show--at least it is to be hoped that the province does not contain many more. We had a very pleasant picnic lunch, just inside the bush which skirts the road here. Mrs. Jas. Smith was there, and two of her young friends, Misses Graham and Wentworth. There was an absurd paragraph in the Otago Times, today, copied from a Scotch paper--to the effect that a Ritualistic Free Church is to be formed, of which I am the Patriarch! What idiots people are. No doubt I shall be held responsible for this scheme. The Synod meets today. I had a long talk with Mrs. James Smith about the agenda. She takes a keen interest in Church matters.

April 8. Dear old K's birthday. I sat down on the beach after breakfast, and wrote her a letter. The morning was glorious; but the sandflies on the beach prevented me from enjoying it--indeed they drove me indoors before I had been out an hour. They are most vicious creatures, and draw blood at every bite. At 11.30 I rode across the sands to the Waitati, on a grey pony. Here I found a Daily Times with a report of the first day's session of the Synod. There seems plenty of work for ten days at least. I met Mr. Dasent on his way to Dunedin, and Mr. Rowley of Hamilton's. The latter was in great affliction, having lost his daughter, (Mary Beatrice), aged 9 months. I walked back to Mr. Pitt's by way of the Bush--such a lovely route, through gullies full of tree [159/160] and other ferns--quite compensating me for the extreme badness of the walking. I began letters this evening to the darlings at home, working upwards from Dora.

April 9. The temperature was much lower today. I had a slight suspicion of a sore throat--my first ailment since I landed. Mrs. Pitt having a medicine case, I took belladonna and was better at night. Mr. Pitt went to Waikouaiti for the election and was away all day. I went on with my letters all morning, and in the afternoon walked down to the Ocean beach with Mrs. Pitt. A quantity of greenstone implements and weapons had been found there, and I was not without hope of picking up a few specimens, but all I could find were a few chips, showing that there had been a workshop in the neighbourhood. There were a great many shells of various kinds on the beach. The commonest is the "mutton fish", a large Haliotis, I imagine--I found scarcely any quite whole. Mr. Pitt returned at 8--Mr. McLean was elected a member of the Provincial Council. I saw a newspaper today, and Mr. Pitt brought the astounding intelligence that the Synod went on sitting until 6 this morning, and had not adjourned when the information left. What this means, I have not an idea. I was sorry to hear that an amendment was proposed to Mr. R. B. Martin's motion of congratulation to Bp. Harper, on his election to the Primacy. He has brought it upon himself by his vacillating and tyrannical conduct; but the scene was too painful and humiliating, and I heartily wish Mr. Smith and Dr. Webster had left the matter alone. The Bishop's attempts to make out that there had been no inhibition, though he admitted that he had publicly refused to give me permission to officiate, were pitiful enough. In his opening address he distinctly implies that justice to me is quite a secondary consideration! Mr. Smith's speeches yesterday were very strong. I only hope he will not overdo the thing.

April 10. My throat is almost well. A most magnificent morning, I was up early. The luxury of a soft water bath is attained by a bucket full brought every morning to my door, which opens into the garden. I walked out on the rocks before breakfast. The clear bright pools of water left by the tide, and lined with seaweed of all colours are of surpassing loveliness. The Ocean was quite calm; a steamer was just entering the Heads, and a brig becalmed, was trying to get clear of the land, not far off. The sun, even at 8.30, had great power. After breakfast (the principal feature of the breakfasts here is the most exquisite honey I ever saw) I continue my letters home. At 2 the papers came. The proceedings of the Synod caused me much pain and perplexity. Mr. Smith spoke for more than six hours on my side. He rose to reply at 5.15 a.m. after in vain urging an adjournment--which it was surely disgraceful to refuse--at 6, the division was taken, and the lay opposition, elected [160/161] by the votes of not even nominal churchmen, carried my rejection. Bishop Harper displayed a strong bias against me throughout. Of course, I utterly refuse to accept this as any real expression of the mind of the Church.

April 11. Second Sunday after Easter. A rainy day. We had Matins and Evensong in the house. Mr. Jas. Smith rode over from Dunedin, and stayed three hours. He gave us a full account of the proceedings of the Synod, which are very badly reported. Everybody, including the reporters, was utterly exhausted by the length of the session. Many were asleep. It was outrageously unfair to our side, and as advantageous to the opposition, to go on sitting till 6 a.m. When Mr. Smith began his reply at 5.15 he was in a state of mental and physical prostration. The members walked home at 6.30 in broad daylight. Two things seem to have broken down hopelessly at this Synod--the "English love of fair dealing", and the much vaunted Synodical system of the New Zealand Church.* [Footnote: *Bishop Selwyn held his first Synod in September 1844 the first Synod to be held in the Anglican Communion since the Convocations were prorogued in 1717. It consisted of the Bishop, three Archdeacons, four Priests and two Deacons. At the second Synod held in 1847, Selwyn pressed for the admission of the Laity. Mr. Gladstone (as Colonial Secretary) in 1849 advised the Colonial Churches to 'organise themselves on the basis of voluntary consensual compact which was the basis on which the Church of Christ rested from the first,' and this further stimulated Selwyn's efforts, despite complaints from some quarters in England that the word Synod infringed the Queen's supremacy.] It has been left to the mob--to non-communicants, and even non-churchgoers, to decide one of the most important questions that could be submitted to a Synod. So much for the "lay element"!

April 12. A dull day with occasional showers. I wrote all the morning, and in the afternoon walked out along the cliff. Everywhere there were huge quantities of mushrooms, (Agaricus campestris) growing. I went down to the "spit"--the place where I found the greenstone last Friday. I picked two or three more chips, and two leg bones of a Moa. Mr. & Mrs. Pitt joined me, and we walked together for some distance. At 8, Mr. & Mrs. Pitt took me out on the rocks where we tried to catch some fish. Rock-cod abound but we caught none. I got rather a bad fall, as I was clambering over the rocks, and was a good deal bruised. Happily Mrs. Pitt had some arnica, which soon cured the contusions. The night was very dark--and not a breath of air stirring. It was curious to find oneself out on the rocks, half a mile from land, with nothing visible save the phosphorescent flashes of the surf, and the dim outlines of the cliffs.

April 13. A dismal day--heavy and incessant rain--I did not go out all day. Mr. Pitt went to Dunedin.

[162] April 14. Weather still very moist and unpleasant. Mr. Pitt returned at 11, and brought news of the Synod. A strong feeling of indignation against the opposition seems to be setting in. The rejection of the proposed appeal to the Archbis. of Canby. is viewed with extreme disgust. I sent a letter to Major Richardson* [Footnote: * See paragraphs below], asking for his authority for a certain statement of doctrine which he attributed to "Tractarians and Ritualists" and to Edwards, referring to Bp. Harper's conditional assent to my officiating, and declining to officiate except unconditionally--and also authorising Edwards to propose (1) a trial of my imputed delinquencies before a Tribunal selected by my opponents and (2) a reference of the whole case to any three English Bishops they might choose--With regard to the 1st, I undertook to offer no defence even if the charges brought against me, were those of Mr. Young, or of the newspaper paragraphs so often repeated, and I pledged myself to resign all pretensions to the Bishopric, if it could be shown, that I had done or said anything which entailed penal consequences by any law of the Church--either here or in England. I hope my letter will be read at the Synod and printed on Friday morning.

[Footnote: * "Dear Sir--I trust you will pardon the liberty I am taking in writing to you.

I am extremely anxious for information on a subject touched by you in your speech at the Diocesan Synod on Thursday morning. While by no means holding you responsible for all the incredible nonsense attributed to by the newspaper--on whose accuracy, however, it is impossible, considering the length of the sitting, to bear very hard--I cannot be wrong, I suppose, in assuming the correctness of one sentence, since it is obviously impossible that it could have been invented by the reporters.

You are represented to have said: "The advanced Ritualist and the Tractarian alike assert that they have the power to create the Deity."

If these are really your words, may I beg you kindly to inform me, what author or authors have made this piece of profanity the expression of their views on the solemn subject of the Holy Eucharist. We know of course that sacerdos creat Deum was a saying commonly and irreverently made use of in the 14th and 15th centuries--possibly earlier; but I never myself heard of its having been adopted by any modem writer of our Church. Your more extensive reading may be able to supply the reference which I desiderate. Certainly, the Tractarian or Ritualist, who has committed himself to so objectionable a statement, ought not to be allowed to escape without castigation.

I remain, &c.,
April 13, 1869

Major Richardson later withdrew the expression, but the inflamatory speech of which this was a part did Bp. Jenner the greatest disservice.]

April 15. My precious Dolly's birthday. God bless her! A very rough morning, rain and hail. The letters do not go till tomorrow, so I left one open to add later intelligence if there should be any. News came today that the Synod broke up last night. I was sorry to hear it, because it seems to preclude all hope of a cancelling of the disgraceful proceedings of last week. My letter to Edwards could not have been read. [162/163] Bp. Harper appear to have behaved rather better the last day or two--especially in backing up the proposed reference to the Archbp. of Canterbury. I got letters in the course of the morning from Dunedin. A short one from the Primate wishing to see me before he left for the South: one from Edwards, and one from Gifford, full of kindness and sympathy. I resolved to go to Dunedin on Monday. In the afternoon I walked with Mr. Pitt to the Blueskin Hotel and back, to see the day's papers. At the very end of the proceedings in Synod, Bp. Harper had the amazing assurance to declare that that body, in his opinion, fairly represented the mind of the Church! This statement will go home unnoticed, I fear. So then a majority elected by not even churchgoers, still less communicants, and including at least two non-communicants--is a fair representation of the Church in Otago and Southland!!

April 17. A very fine day. Mr. Pitt sent in to Dunedin for my surplice and the Communion plate for the Celebration tomorrow. I was in low spirits all day, by reason of not being able to make up my mind what I ought to do next. If I return home which is the course I am most inclined to adopt, and which seems to be that which I am expected to adopt--the character in which I shall appear before the English Church, is that of a repudiated and degraded Bishop--a sort of Colenso--in fact--by no means an agreeable prospect. On one thing I am determined--that I will not resign my claim to the Bishopric. This afternoon I took a solitary walk along the beach in a northerly direction--for the purpose of thinking over my sermon for tomorrow. It will seem strange to preach again after so long a silence. The walking was very rough, over rocks and shingle I came upon an old "dug-out" canoe which must have been lying on the beach for years.

April 18. 3 Sunday after Easter. A showery morning, but the day improved afterwards. Mrs. Pitt had got ready the kitchen for our service--Matins and Celebration--which was well attended by people from the neighbourhood. Only seven persons communicated. The arrangements were as reverent as circumstances permitted--and with decent altar plate and linen, the celebration was to me and all, I think, very solemn and edifying. Judging from what I have seen, I question whether there have been many more reverent functions in N.Z. I preached for 20 minutes on the Gospel--and got on better than I had expected. I found that people were much pleased with the whole service. We sang (after a fashion) Hymn 147, to Dundee. I started it, and three or four joined in. I wondered what harm would have been done, or what disrespect shown to the Gen. Synod, or any other body, if I had been allowed to do, in other places that I visited, before the inhibition was removed, what I did today. Also what reason for inhibiting me there was before the meeting of the D. Synod which does not exist now: [163/164] for my claim remains the same, unaffected by the Synodical vote. The conclusion is forced upon me, that I was prevented from officiating in order to destroy my chance of acceptance by the people of the Diocese. In the afternoon Mr. & Mrs. Pitt took me for a delightful walk in a part of the bush that I had not yet visited. The provincial government is making a road through this bush, which will very considerably shorten the distance to Waikouaiti and the north. But it is lamentable to see what a destruction of magnificent trees the undertaking necessitates. They are being demolished wholesale, fire being the principal agent employed. It is a wonderful and almost terrible spectacle The undergrowth or scrub is first lighted, and the flames speedily climb the resinous trunks of the trees, and leap from branch to branch, till the whole is a mass of fire. There will be a good deal still to be done, when the vegetation is got rid of, for the line of road is anything but level. It is difficult at first to realise that there are no wild animals in these forests. Their appearance is so entirely that of a jungle, associated in ones mind with tigers and bears, but especially with snakes. At 9 p.m. we had evensong in the sitting room, which the servants attended.

April 19. A wet and miserable day. At 10.30 I left my kind friends, after what would have been under different circumstances a most delightful fortnight, and to which I shall ever look back with pleasure. I was driven across the bay to the Waitati by a young man now filling the office of ostler at the Waitati Hotel. He, with his father, and other members of his family, had an estate at Wanganui, and had been doing well. But the Maori troubles compelled them to leave their farm and run for their lives, the result being utter ruin. From the Waitati to Dunedin, I travelled in a small express waggon, with a man who had lately come from Tasmania. He told me much about that penal colony. I could not help wondering whether my friend had ever worn the irons. It was raining hard all the way to Dunedin. The Primate was waiting for me at the Parsonage. We had a conversation which lasted half an hour, and was quite long enough. I got no sort of sympathy from him. He was hard and imperial in tone, evidently wanting to get rid of me as soon as possible. I told him I utterly refused to resign my claim, which he urged me to do. I asked him if he would license me to a charge in the Diocese--He declined! He found great fault with Bp. Selwyn for writing to Edwards upholding my claims--"A most ill judged letter" he said, "and likely to do much harm". "On the contrary", I replied, "it can hardly fail to have a salutary effect, as showing what is demanded by the most ordinary rules of honour and justice". "In England", I continued, "there will hardly be two opinions among churchmen, as to the utter collapse of the Synodical System of the New Zealand Church, which was to be the model for universal imitation". I [164/165] spent three hours with the Edwardses and then rode to Green Island on a dreadful horse of Mr. Jones. Dreadful--I call him, because it was almost impossible to keep him on his legs. He did not actually fall--but his nose approached too near the ground very many times. The road was in a fearful state, especially after leaving the "Metal". We had a very pleasant evening. Mrs. Rees and Mrs. Boult were at Green Island. The latter sang, after dinner, in really admirable style.

April 20. A fine day. We all went to lunch at Capt. Boyd's--an old 11th man, who has a remarkably nice place on the high ground to the right of the Port Chalmers road. I drove the "express" and pair, Mrs. Rees and Mrs. Boult being inside. We called at the Edwards' and took Mrs. E. with us. I am tired of enlarging on the beauties of the Dunedin scenery, but really the ascent from the valley to Capt. Boyd's can not be passed over entirely. The road lies through a sort of common, not unlike an English one in effect--only instead of furze, there is a dense growth of Manuka scrub, about 6 to 7 feet high, clothing the hillside. The opposite heights are splendid, very bold and steep, and covered with the thick and many tinted foliage of an uncleared bush. And the effect is heightened by the great breadth and flatness of the valley. A magnificent view (over the city) of the bay and ocean, is attained as you ascend the hill. The road is very rough and not quite safe--The utmost circumspection is required in driving up, and still more, even, in descending--especially with two such fiery animals as "Lancer" and Polka"--Mr. Jones's buggy horses--Capt. Boyd's house, is an excellent one--and nicely furnished. He showed me an armchair, which my brother, Augustus, gave him 27 years ago. It seemed as if I had seen it before--as indeed was probable--and sat upon it. At Capt. Boyd's, there is a fish hatching and rearing apparatus. It is a little way from the house, in the bush--close to a lovely Fern tree gully. There were a good many young trout swimming about--looking very healthy. They are soon to be transferred to the Otago rivers, by Mr. Clifford, the curator. We spent an extremely pleasant afternoon. I went in the evening to Mr. Butterworth's to stay.

April 21. I called at the Parsonage at 9.15, and took Mrs. Edwards to All Saints Church, which was to be consecrated. The service was very long, and very dull. The Bishop preached fairly--a written sermon--and celebrated. The less said about this function the better. After service I went to the Jas. Smiths for breakfast--luncheon. At 2.30 to the Parsonage. Mrs. Rees and Mrs. Boult came in, and we had some music. Dinner at the Butterworth's at 6. Nobody but ourselves.

April 22. I called on the Primate this morning, by appointment, and sat with him an hour. He made strenuous appeals to me to resign my claim to the Bishopric: but I resisted them. He agreed with me that [165/166] Dean Jacobs' (of interference was uncalled for. (The Dean had written against me, in the Otago paper) I told him that everybody believed that he (the Primate) acted in most things under the Dean's inspiration; which he said was "a very unjust supposition". I quoted a correspondent of mine (K.F.) to show what people at home thought of the performances at the General Synod--viz, that "Bishop Selwyn and his son seemed to have done their best for me--Bishop Harper and His son their worst!" The Primate became very indignant at the antithesis maintaining that "Henry" was blamed unjustly and that he himself only did what he was compelled to do. He unpacked his "swag" to get at a copy of the Proceedings of Gen. Synod in order to prove these points; but it was no use. There, in black and and white, was the motion of the Bp. of Ch.Ch. "that the appointment of Bishop Jenner be not confirmed", and that of his son "That Bishop Jenner be requested to resign his claim". The Bishop made one highly important admission, viz. that my nomination was the act of the Rural Deanery Board, possessing by his concession, the powers of a Diocesan Synod. Therefore, in accordance with the provisions of the Constitution Deed, my nomination was perfectly regular, and ought not to have been submitted to the D. Synod at all. The Primate went to Invercargill by steamer at 2. Mr. & Mrs. Butterworth, Mrs. Edwards and I, went out for a drive, which I enjoyed exceedingly, the day being very fine. It was in a new direction (to me)--past Andersons' Bay, leaving the ocean beach to the right, and ascending the hill on the south side of the harbour. The prospects over the bay, ocean, and bush, were exquisite; but the roads were in a dreadful state. This is called the Portobello road. We saw several pretty little green parrots in the trees by the road side. Mr. & Mrs. Edwards came to dinner at the Butterworths.

April 23. Another fine day, but colder than yesterday. I overhauled my books, at the Parsonage. They were very damp. I stayed with the Edwards' most of the day. There is a capital letter in the Oamaru Times from Ashcroft. At 4.30 a deputation from the S. Paul's vestry came to ask me to take part in the services next Sunday--a request to which I graciously acceded. I ought to have said before, that Bishop Harper earnestly besought me not to avail myself of his permission to officiate. He was certain, he said, that some dreadful scene would take place, people walking out of church, in a body, or something equally distressing!! I have consented to give a lecture, on Church music for the benefit of S. Paul's Church, on May 5. This evening I had a practice with the Choir, which is to give illustrations.

April 24. At the Athenaeum today, Edwards introduced me to Mr. R. B. Martin, one of my principal opponents. We had a few minutes amicable conversation. At 7.30, 1 had another choir practice.

[167] April 25. S. Mark's Day & 4th S. after Easter. A memorable day. I preached twice at S. Paul's. In the morning, the congregation was overflowing--about 500 persons--the church being built to hold 400. I preached for 25 minutes on the Sunday gospel. Somebody had told me that S. Paul's was a difficult Church for a preacher to make himself heard in--I found that this was a mistake, as soon as I opened my mouth. At Evensong, every available square foot of space was occupied. There must have been at least 600 present. 100 of whom stood all the service. I preached on "Ye are the salt of the earth" with reference to S. Mark. I was 30 minutes. * [Footnote: * In the land of the blind, the one-eyed are kings.] Dans les pays des aveugles les borgnes sont rois, which must be the reason why everybody seems to have been so hugely delighted. Not a symptom of any irreverent demonstration, such as the Primate dreaded. It is rather amusing to find that people are asking each other, now, whether nothing can be done to retain me at Dunedin. The day, in consequence of a "hot, north-easter", was most oppressive. The Church, of course, crowded as it was, was intolerably hot. Messrs. Young, Watt and Martin, did not attend the services. The offerings during the day amounted to £24--the usual average being £8.

April 26. The town today was in a state of wild excitement--on account of the expected arrival of the Duke of Edinburgh. Triumphal Arches had been erected in Princes Street, and elsewhere and decorated with a profusion of magnificent ferns, and branches of trees--The Prince landed at Port Chalmers at 2--and came in a coach drawn by eight greys, and driven by Cabbage Tree Ned, to Dunedin. I saw the procession from the windows of the Council Chamber, and wonderfully imposing it was--especially considering the age of the settlement. The crowds of people in the streets were quite surprising. Very conspicuous were the mounted constabulary, an extremely fine body of men on grey horses. The red shirted volunteers, also, showed to great advantage. They marched well and evenly. The cortege went to Fern Hill--which has been placed at the Prince's disposal by Miss Jones. (This is a house built in a nice situation on the Caversham road, as a residence for old "Johnny Jones", a great man and early settler at Dunedin, also has died since I have been here.) In the evening we went out to look at the illuminations, which were, as might have been expected, only moderate. Squibs and crackers were flying about in the streets. I got letters from my darlings today--all well--thank God. Unsatisfactory accounts of Rev. A. C. gave me no little anxiety.

April 27. To the Parsonage at 10. At 11.30 I went in my robes with Edwards as my Chaplain, to H.R.H's levee. We had the privilege of the entrée and got a private view of the Prince before he appeared in the [167/168] Council Chamber. This is a fine large room, and it was full of ladies, on this occasion. I tried hard to keep in the background, but they made me take precedence of everybody. During the presentations, I stood at the Prince's left hand, the ceremoney was not imposing. The awkward bows of some of the colonial dignitaries, especially the Presbyterian Ministers, who attended in great force, seemed to amuse the ladies immensely. I understood that the said P.Ms, were not a little disgusted at the table of precedence adopted by the Aide de Camp, who called up those who were to be presented. First he shouted, "Ministers of the Church of England", to which none responded. Edwards and I having been already presented. Then "Ministers of the Church of Rome"--After whom (proh pudor!) were summoned, "Ministers of the Church of Scotland". These latter wore black gowns. Some of them walked right past the Prince--not seeing where he was--and then stood still and appeared to be looking for him till they were hustled off by the next comer. At this many of the ladies "tittered audibly". There are more indications today of the feeling, the rise of which I noticed yesterday--in favour of making another effort to keep me here. Mr. Butterworth told us during dinner that he had been conversing with Mr. Power, an influential member of S. Paul's congregation; who said to him--"you know, Butterworth, that I am not a rich man, but I would give £20 to see that man, righted". To whom responded Mr. B. "Ah, many of us would give more than that, if money would do it."

April 28. A damp unpleasant day. I spent nearly the whole of it at the Parsonage, and at the Athenaeum. There were races going on at the Taieri plain. The Duke of Edinburgh was there, of course.

April 29. A wretched day--rain incessant. I hardly stirred out, except to go to the. Parsonage, whither I had arranged to transfer myself today. Mr. & Mrs. Butterworth have been most kind in every way, during my sojourn at their house. At 7 I went with Edwards to dine with the Superintendent "to meet the Duke of E". Before dinner I was shown into a small room where the Duke and a dozen others were assembled--a large party sat down to a miserable meal. "The Rev. Mr. Stuart" was called upon by the Superintendent to say grace before dinner. This seemed to excite H.R.H's astonishment--for Mr. Stuart is a Presbyterian Minister. He (the Prince) kept looking at me in an unmistakeable manner for two or three minutes after the ceremony. Edwards drew my attention to the circumstance, and inferred the reason. When dinner, was nearly over, a messenger (Capt. Fraser) came to me, conveying H.R.H's wish that I should "return thanks". I resisted, saying that Mr. Stuart had much better finish, as he had begun:--but Capt. Fraser told me it was the Prince's particular request that I should of-[168/169]ficiate, so I could only obey. My next neighbour was Capt. Montgomerie of the Blanche--opposite was Capt. Pitt, the governor's Aide de Camp, who knew Augustus well, and was greatly excited when he found I was his brother. The governor's great cordiality to me, was very gratifying. The Prince was waited upon by his Piper, who after dinner walked up and down the room playing on his bagpipe. There were sundry toasts proposed. H.R.H. spoke fairly. A rather alarming incident occurred just before we left the table. The Prince being thirsty, sent his Piper for some water. The piper came and fetched a decanter from just in front of me, supposing it (as I did) to contain water. He filled the Prince's glass, who after swallowing half at least at a gulp, gasped out "Why it's Whisky!!' as indeed it proved to be. He took more than he could carry with any degree of steadiness--and was "unwell" afterwards--so I heard--during the performances at the theatre.

April 30. An agreeable change in the weather--which has been damp and wretched for the last few days. Today it is bright and lovely. I went with Mrs. Edwards to a Horticultural Show. The Prince was there, and Sir G. Bowen. Thence to the Athenaeum. In the evening we had a long and severe Choir practice. Mr. Cooke called today, and sat a long time--And Mr. Haggitt, Churchwarden of All Saints, came to ask me to give a lecture at the Masonic Hall, for the benefit of his Church. I consented and fixed May 7, (subsequently altered to May 12) subject, "The Management of Children".

May 1. SS Phil. and Jas. No service anywhere, alas! The day was fine and calm--I took a charming walk in the afternoon with Edwards in a new direction. We went along a most lovely valley through which runs the "Water of Leith" and ascending a steep gorge on the sides of which ferns of all kinds were growing in luxuriant profusion, we arrived at the Dunedin Waterworks--whence there is a glorious view over the town. The reservoir is very large and the supply of water, ample. En route, we stopped at a flax dressing establishment, and saw the process in its earlier stages.

Dined at the Bells--a very nice party. Mrs. Bell played very well. She accompanied me in "Adelaida" admirably--but the piano was half a tone above concert pitch!

May 2. Rogation Sunday. A beautiful day. I preached twice at All Saints, each time on the Gospel. The church was quite full in the morning; crammed to overflowing at Evensong. In the afternoon I went to S. Paul's, and baptized two grandchildren of Mr. Attwood who was present, and with whom I had some conversation. He knows all East Kent, and a great many residents there. I walked home from All Saints with Mr. Ashcroft, the lay representative in D. Synod for Oamaru. I liked him very much--He seems a thoroughly earnest man.

[170] May 3. (Inv. of Holy) Mr Ashcroft called after breakfast. He and some others appear to be conspiring to keep me here, at all events until next January! What shall I do! It will be terrible to give up my plans of getting to England in August. A meeting was held this morning at 10.30 and adjourned till tomorrow. Mr. Mason, who is one of those who are most anxious that I should remain, called, and reported that there will be no sort of difficulty in getting funds for my maintenance, until the meeting of the Synod, to be elected in January, which will probably vote the confirmation of my appointment. In the afternoon I went to the Athenaeum; and in the evening practised the Choir. I was sitting in the drawing room at the Parsonage this morning, when a message came, begging Mr. Edwards to go and baptize a sick baby of Mrs. Paul's in George Street. Edwards being out, I went.

May 4. A rough day--wind and rain. At the request of the adjourned meeting, I consented to defer my departure for another week. I could not well help this--but I sincerely trust it may not lead to my remaining altogether. No good purpose would be served by such a course, which would fatally embroil me with the Bp. of Christchurch, who would unquestionably re-impose the "inhibition", if he found that I had no present intention of leaving the Colony. I dined with the Smiths--a very nice party. Mrs. Pitt was there--she brought me a fine piece of greenstone.

May 5. The bad weather continues with fine intervals. This evening my lecture on Church Music was given at S. George's Hall. The attendance was not so good as it would have been had the weather been favourable. Mr. Howarth was in the chair. My reception was extremely enthusiastic. The Choir sang well and the lecture "went" without a hitch, and was, apparently, a complete success.

May 6--Ascension Day. The weather is still very disagreeable, and the streets are in a terrible state--though not quite as bad as in the early days of the settlement when it was sometimes dangerous for grown up people, and, even fatal to children, to cross the streets. There was a Celebration at S. Paul's, at 8 a.m. for which I was very thankful. Edwards wished me to celebrate, but I declined. There were 14 communicants--a very fair number, considering the weather. I went to 11 o'clock Matins at All Saints with Edwards. In the afternoon, I read the paper at the Athenaeum. The Riverton vestry have been presenting an address to the Primate--thanking him for his conduct at the D. Synod, and identifying him with the "opposition"! The Bishop accepted it all as a matter of course. At 7.30 there was Evensong at S. Paul's. I preached for 20 minutes on S. Luke XXIV 50.51. In spite of the frightful weather, there were nearly 300 present. After service I went to supper at the Smiths. Preston was of course constantly in my [170/171] thoughts today--the services at church, and the school children in the orchard, etc.

May 7. First snow today. The hills were quite white in the morning. In the town there was enough snow to make the streets miserable and sloppy, for it thawed almost as soon as it fell. I went to the Athenaeum to read the papers. In the evening I dined at the Smith's, and had an extremely pleasant little party. These good people are kindness itself.

May 8. A fine day, but rather cold. I was up and dressed by 6.30; and at 7 started on the coach for Waikouaiti. A most enjoyable drive--the atmosphere being superlatively clear and bright, and the hills looking most lovely, their summits being covered with snow. In the Dunedin valley there was no snow, but it lay pretty thick on the road as we ascended the high ground above Port Chalmers. The Waitati river was very high and there was some difficulty in getting through it, the coach being quite full of passengers. A bridge is being built here, which will be a great advantage. Arrived at Waikouaiti about noon. In the afternoon I rode out with Mr. and Mrs. Dasent. We called on Mr. C. Black. He lives in a large house built by the late "Johnnie Jones"* [Footnote: * Johnny Jones had been a whaler and retired from the sea in the early 1840's. As well as the large house Jenner mentions he gave the land and materials for the stone church at Waikouaiti of which he became unofficial patron. (Brian Findlay)] on the heights above this place. He and his wife were both out; but we met them returning as we left the house. We saw Mr. Fraser--son of the late Vicar of Cheriton, and brother in law to Emily White--who has a small property here. He was at the King's School, Canterbury, he told me, when I was a Minor Canon. A long letter on the "situation" came from Gifford today.

May 9--Sunday after Ascension. Fine but cold and windy. A moderate congregation at Matins--when I preached on Ps. 68 V 18. At Evensong, the church was more than crammed, and I was aware of a considerable audience during my sermon (on S. Mark VII.37) outside the windows. The church will seat comfortably 75--but there must have been at least 120 inside--besides those without. The night was calm, and still, but the sullen roar of the surf on the adjacent beach was audible during the whole service, and had a peculiarly impressive effect. I was able to bring in an allusion to this in my sermon. Dear A. N's birthday. One thinks more of these anniversaries (no pun intended) at a distance of 16,000 miles, than when at home.

May 10. One of the unaccountable days that so frequently occur during a New Zealand winter. The sun was quite hot all day, and the atmosphere clear and calm. After breakfast we had a most delightful ride along the beach to the Maori Kaiki (village) about four miles to [171/172] the South of Waikouaiti. The canter over the hard sand was most exhilarating. A tremendous surf was breaking on the beach. Near the native village the Waikouaiti river enters the sea. We had to cross this before we could get to the house: and as the tide was rising rapidly, it was nearly a swimming matter. On this account we were unable to stay more than a few minutes at the Kaiki. We saw no Maories, and only the outside of the house. This was disappointing, as I had reckoned on being able to buy some specimens of native manufactures. On our return home, we met Mr. Wayne of Shag Valley--whose acquaintance I was glad to make. We called on Mr. Franks, the brewer, an agreeable and intelligent man. He made us taste some of his beer--and gave me much information for A.R.J. At 2, I took leave of the Dasents, and started by coach for Dunedin. Arrived, after a good journey at 6.15. Mr. Rees was at the Parsonage. At dinner we had part of a "Frost fish"--and most excellent it was, the best of all fish, I thought. It is caught at Oamaru chiefly--or rather it catches itself--for, on frosty nights, something impels it to jump out of the water on to the beach, where it is found, if not eaten by gulls, above highwater mark. It is a long narrow fish. I found at the Parsonage a letter from Major Richardson (the second) in which he tries hard to justify the ridiculous statements he made at the Synod.

May 11. A changeable day--sunshine and showers alternating. Another letter from the gallant Major "withdrawing" the calumnious words he had used and justified! I sent him a lecture--and transcribed the correspondence for publication. I telegraphed to Tanner this afternoon, announcing my intended departure for Melbourne on Saturday, and my wish to have a service either at Invercargill or the Bluff on Whitsun-Day. I went to a Photographers and was "taken" in various attitudes this morning. Mr. and Mrs. Butterworth had a dinner party to which I went. I had a cold in my head in the evening which soon yielded to Camphor. I met Capt. Boyd today. He asked me to baptize his baby, which he proposes to call "Herbert Lascelles", having got an unaccountable idea into his head that the first was Augustus' name the second was intended to be in honour of me. Capt. B. is an instance out of many an opponent, converted into a most ardent supporter So warm was he, that, the Dunedin Club having omitted to invite me to a dinner given to the Duke of Edinburgh, Capt. B. declared that he would remove his name from the list of members, unless a satisfactory explanation of the neglect was given. The Committee thereupon professed themselves very sorry, and said that the omission was entirely accidental.

May 12. A magnificent day. The photos came, and gave much satisfaction. I stayed indoors most of the day preparing my lecture "On the [172/173] Management of Children", which I delivered at the Masonic Hall in the evening, to a large and attentive audience. More than 400 persons were present. Mr Dillon Bell was in the chair, and spoke well. I was received with the utmost enthusiasm. In acknowledging the vote of thanks, I remarked, that, although I was on the eve of my departure from the colony, it might be, and I hoped sincerely it would be, God's will that they should see me again. The words had scarcely passed my lips before the most tremendous burst of applause struck the room, and lasted quite a minute. This was altogether unexpected by me. I walked away from the Hall with Mrs. Bell and was joined subsequently by Mr. Beale (brother of that objectionable Captain of the Ruahine) who was very agreeable, and spoke of his connection with Sandwich and the neighbourhood. He was an "opponent"--but has thought better of it, he told me.

May 13. A most lovely day again. I lunched with the Smith's. A nice letter came this morning from Mr. W. Black of Oamaru, and another from Tanner, who considers that the only obstacle to my being "elected" by next year's D. Synod, will be the Primate's continuing to work for the opposition. Mrs. and Miss Bell came in the evening, which passed very pleasantly.

May 14. Fine until 6 p.m., when it began to rain. I was packing up all the morning. A present arrived from Mr. and Mrs. Ward--a lovely water colour drawing of that glorious view on the Blueskin road. Then Mr. Rees gave me an opossum rug of great size and value. And Mr. Wilson, a lawyer, called, with a set of beautiful and large photographs of Dunedin and the neighbourhood. I went into the town and bought a few things for the voyage, returning by 11, when Capt. Boyd's baby came to be baptized. It was named "Harry Lascelles". We all lunched at Capt. B's. Dr. and Mrs. Buchanan were there. At 7.30 we had Evensong at S. Paul's, after which I preached a "farewell sermon" from Acts 1.14. I had observed certain symptoms of impatience among some who were most anxious that I should have remained. The present state of the church is unquestionably very bad--and one does not see how it is to be mended, except by the efforts of a resident head, which, for the present, there cannot be. But I thought it right to speak very strongly tonight on the imperative duty of patience, urging that we ought to make the most of the privileges already enjoyed, however unpromising things might seem. The text and the subject suited the season, "Expectation Week", perfectly. The congregation numbered at least 300. There was a great proportion of men--but for it being mail night, there would have been many more. After service there was a grand Choir supper at the Parsonage and the S. Paul's Choir presented me with a "testimonial", in the shape of a pencil case of N. Zealand gold. I [173/174] was not a little astonished and gratified. There were several speeches--in all of which most warm and sympathetic mention was made of me. Really the kindness of everybody is overpowering. It quite neutralizes all the harshness which has been exhibited by some.

May 15. A very nasty day drizzling rain "Dunedin weeping at my departure" as some one poetically observed. Several friends called to say goodbye--and at 1, I quitted the Parsonage, and its most hospitable and warmhearted mistress, with infinite regret. Edwards accompanied me to the jetty, where in spite of the wretched weather, a large number of my friends were collected--all of whom were most cordial in their good wishes. Mrs. Jas. Smith was there. She introduced me to Capt. McLean of the Alhambra (which was to take me to Melbourne), charging him to take care of me, and get me a cabin to myself. Edwards, Howarth, Paultin and Quick went with me to Port Chalmers, and stayed on board the Alhambra till the last moment. Much as I longed to get home again, it was a real grief to me to leave Dunedin, and all my kind friends there. The Alhambra sailed at 5--much too late, for it was getting very dark, and the tide was ebbing. The consequence was that halfway between the port and the Heads, she ran aground, the Captain having mistaken the channel, which is not easy to find, even by daylight. There was no getting her off--on account of the ebb tide. A most annoying event this--The Geelong, tug, came alongside about 7 and stove in her starboard paddle box in so doing. She tried in vain to tow us off. So here we are for the night at all events. I turned in early--the Captain has put me into a cabin of his own on the main deck and a delightful one it is. It was not without some gratification that I noticed the demonstrations of regret at my departure today. Poor Edwards completely broke down at the last.

May 16. Whttsun-Day. This morning at daybreak we ought to have been nearly entering the Bluff Harbour; whereas the dawn found us still aground in Otago Bay. The day is bright and calm, and the barometer rises; if we could only get off this unhappy shoal, there is every prospect of a fine run to Melbourne. An attempt was made to move the ship at 5 a.m., but it was unsuccessful. So the Captain went to Port Chalmers for lighters. The cargo must be taken out. After breakfast I walked up and down the deck, admiring the beautiful scenery of the harbour and wishing I had remained at Dunedin for the services today. At 11 I had Matins and preached a short sermon on the Epistle. A very unsatisfactory way, this, of spending this great festival. If I could have got off and gone ashore, I would have had a service at Port Chalmers--but the ebb tide was running so strong that it would have taken a boat hours to get there. The Maori village at the Heads was plainly visible, and a few settlers' houses scattered about on each [174/175] side of the bay. I wondered whether I should ever behold this scene again. One lamentable circumstance in connection with our detention here is, that our chance of catching the English Mail at Melbourne are rapidly diminishing. We shall do it, Capt. McLean says, if we have a fair wind and this preliminary difficulty can be overcome. All the Dunedin Merchants and bankers have written by the Alhambra, and I put off writing till the last on the strength of their example--and reckoning on the leisure of the voyage to Melbourne. If we miss the P & O mail steamer, they will get no letter at all at home and will be utterly at a loss to know what my movements are. Besides I have not quite determined not to go home by the mail route. At 3.30 a very good dinner was served. While we were at table, a large lighter came alongside, and the crew at once began to move the cargo. This was a very long business and it did not seem to do much good. The tug was again attached and the engines of both vessels went ahead at once, but the Alhambra refused to stir from the comfortable bed she had made for herself in the sand. High water approached, and with it our last chance of getting off tonight. At last, just at the turn of the tide, all the passengers got into the lighter alongside, and the men heaving lustily at the warp forward, the ship, to our great joy, began to veer slowly round, and in a minute we were in 30 feet of waters. The shouts and cheers that arose were justifiable enough. It was now 7.30 p.m. We anchored just inside the Heads, and at once proceeded to reship the cargo. This operation was not completed till past midnight and it was 3 a.m. before we put to sea. The confusion on board put an end to all hopes of Evensong. Altogether it was the queerest Whitsun Day I ever passed--corresponding to the Xmas Day in the Bay of Panama. I turned in at 10.30. The only people on board that I know are Mrs. Tibbits and Mrs. Goodson, two Invercargill wives returning home each with a child. I made the acquaintance of a Mr. and Mrs. Barton, who are on their way to England, from Canterbury (N.Z.) where they have been for two years. Mrs. B. seems to be a good churchwoman, judging from her reverent behaviour at service this morning. I found afterwards that she had been a member of All Saint's Margt Str. congregation when in London.

May 17. Whitsun Monday. It blew hard during the night, and I felt decidedly uncomfortable all day, as there was an unpleasant sea running. Kept in a horizontal attitude until we got under the lee of the Bluff. I could eat nothing but a biscuit and a ham sandwich. It was 6 p.m. before we got alongside the wharf in Bluff Harbour. Tanner and several Invercargill people had been down hoping to see me, both today and yesterday--but as the trains may not run after dark, they had been obliged to return. Only C. R. Marten and Irvine were waiting. I went ashore for a couple of hours and walked about with [175/176] C.R.M. The Alhambra put to sea again at 9, when I look leave of my friends (Mr. Longuet and Mr. O'Toole came on board to see me) and of New Zealand, wondering whether it will prove to be for a time only, or for ever. (For ever--H.L.J. May 1 1888.)

May 18th. A blank day. This is to say, I did not move out of my cabin--hardly off my bed--finding that every time I sat up, the feeling of sickness came on. By dint of retaining the recumbent position, I just, and only just managed to escape. I had a cup of tea and a morsel of toast for breakfast; and a little roast lamb for dinner. There was a good deal of sea on.

May 19. I got up for breakfast which I enjoyed. Then went on deck and had some talk with the Captain, feeling almost well. According to the authorities on board we shall easily catch the mail. That is a great comfort--but now comes the serious question--shall I go home that way or not? On one side there are the advantages of a rapid passage--50 days only--of seeing Ceylon, the Red Sea, Egypt, Alexandria, Malta, etc. and of escaping the dreadfull passage round Cape Horn, where the cold at this season will be overpowering. On the other side are to be taken into account the extra expense £30 at least--the S.W. monsoon, the heat of the Red Sea and desert. I think it will end in my electing the mail route. I took a walk on deck before dinner for which I had a good appetite. There were thousands of sea birds about the ship--Albatrosses, gulls and cape pigeons. These last are most lovely birds--black, with elegantly mottled backs and wings. I sat reading in the saloon till 10, and then turned in, feeling perfectly comfortable.

May 20. The wind has got nearly aft, and there is a heavy sea running. The ship rolls very much, which makes me thankful that I have got over my inclination to sea sickness. My cabin is the greatest comfort. I fear I must not reckon on having one to myself on board the P & O steamers (but I had, all the way home). The dinner today was very uncomfortable on account of the motion of the vessel. I have determined to go to England via Suez.

May 21. AlasI The wind has shifted. It is now right ahead--This very much lessens our chance of catching the mail steamer. If we do miss it, I shall have to go home in a sailing vessel arriving a month later than I hoped--a heavy disappointment. The worst of it is I shall not be able to write home. All day long the ship pitched heavily. In the evening, I played three games at chess with Mrs. Barton, and won two of them.

May 22. Wind still ahead, making our progress very slow. I have quite given up all hope of catching the mail and even trying to reconcile myself to the long sea voyage. This afternoon we sighted the [176/177] Tasmanian coast, and passed the lighthouse on Kent's group about 8. The light is a very bright revolving one--about ten miles distant from us, when we were abreast of it. I played at chess again in the evening and lost two games out of three.

May 23. Trinity Sunday. I went on deck before breakfast--when to my infinite delight, the Captain informed me that I should be able to go home by the P & O steamer, which he expected to meet at Port Phillip Heads. It will be a very close thing--but I shall not mind that, if I manage it. We had Matins in the saloon at 10.30. The saloon passengers attended in considerable numbers, but I was sorry to see no sailors or 2nd class folk. I preached on the subject of the day. At noon we were abreast of Wilson's Promontory, whence the telegraphic cable has just been laid to Tasmania. We coasted along, getting excellent views of the land as we advanced--until we reached Port Phillip Heads. Just before entering there is a piece of broken water, said to be rather dangerous, called (I think) the "Grip". The Western Head is called Port Lonsdale--the Eastern Point Nepean. The latter, in which I naturally took some interest, is a low sandy spit--overhung by the extremity of a range of hills rising to the height of 1,000 feet. The highest point is called Arthur's Seat. Once inside the Heads you see nothing but a quiet inland lake opening out on all sides. It is 50 miles long and about 25 broad--This is Port Phillip. As we entered, a noble merchant ship--one of Green's--the Roxburgh Castle it was thought, was waiting outside for a pilot--She had all her canvas set and was backing and filling in beautiful style. Another--the Yorkshire, belonging to Money Wigram--was at anchor just inside. It was arranged that I should go ashore with the mails, and await at Queenscliff the arrival of the Geelong P & O steamer, which it appeared, had already started from Melbourne, and was on her way down. So I went below at 3.30 and ate my dinner with my mind at ease. I had just done, when Capt. McLean came into the saloon rubbing his hands, and exhibiting a countenance beaming with satisfaction. "That's all right," said he: "I have got rid of the mails. They've just gone ashore to Queenscliff." "And what am I to do?" said I, "Bless me," said the Captain, "I quite forgot you." And off he rushed, to see what could be done to get me ashore. He soon returned with the information that the dinghy belonging to the pilots' boat, would take me to Queenscliff directly. I got my baggage together and with it went on board a very little boat, pulled by two men, and only just big enough to hold me and my effects. "Can you steer, Sir?" asked one of the men, as soon as we were clear of the Alhambra. "Yes," said I "if you will show me where you want to go. "So they pointed out the jetty, which we reached in half an hour. A drizzling rain was falling, which made the voyage very uncomfortable. I left [177/178] all the heavy baggage on the jetty in charge of the Customs officer, who was very civil--and promised to take me off in his boat to the Geelong, which he told me, would not be down before six in the morning. The boatman carried my portmanteau to the town, where I intended to find an hotel, and sleep there. But, chemin faisant, I asked the man whether there was a Church and clergyman in the place--"Oh yes!" said my friend, and proceeded to give a choice of three--Presbyterian, Wesleyan and Church of England--So I requested him to take me and my portmanteau to the Anglican Parsonage. Here I found to my great satisfaction, an old Augustinian and his wife--Mr. & Mrs. Wilkinson* [Footnote: * See following paragraph]--who gave me the most cordial reception, and with whom I spent a delightful evening. The church is close by, and there was Evensong at 7. Mr. Wilkinson insisted on my preaching. The congregation was small, on account of the weather. Mr. Lawes, a leading Melbourne Barrister, was staying at the Parsonage--a most agreeable and intelligent man, who entered warmly into the Dunedin Bishopric question, knowing nothing about it before. He was completely astounded by the account I gave him. Mrs. Wilkinson kindly gave me two Emu's eggs--which, I must try to carry home without breaking. It was thought advisable that I should sleep at the Hotel, which is much nearer the place of embarkation than the Parsonage. Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. Lawes accordingly escorted me thither at 10.30, and we parted with mutual expressions of regret.

[Footnote above: * The Revd. H. J. Wilkinson wrote to the papers to describe the visit.

'Bishop Jenner is a tall, strong-built vigorous man, with a constitution in every way suited for thorough work of a colonial diocese, and frank and genial in his manner. As a preacher he is powerful and impressive. His text was St. John iii, 12 and his sermon was on the New Birth, preached extempore and with great effect on the forty people present. At the Vicarage later he delighted his hosts by playing from Hymns Ancient and Modern. The Appendix had come out in 1868 bringing the number of hymns in the 1st edition (1861) from 273 to 386. The hymns were mostly from contemporary writers but the novelty of the tunes was more marked, one half of them appearing for the first time and including two by Bp. Jenner, 'Quam Dilecta' and 'Preston'; had it not been for the storm the islanders of Melita would not have had the comfort of St. Paul; and so in like manner, had it not been for the bad weather at Queenscliffe, we should not have had the enjoyment of Bishop Jenner. H.J.W.']

A curious little episode in my voyage round the world will be this extremely hurried visit to the important province of Victoria. It is much to be regretted that time would not allow of my visiting the mighty city of Melbourne.

May 24. The weather in the early morning was an improvement on yesterday. I rose at 5, and walked out. Nobody in the house was stirring and only one or two outside. I went down to the jetty where I met one of the Customs people, who told me that the Geelong would not be down before 7.30, on account of the fog. I had nothing to do therfore but to wander about for an hour and a half. I walked along the beach, first in a Southerly direction, and then northward for a mile or two. [178/179] This is a pretty place but somewhat tame. The fog cleared away by 7.39 when I left the pier in the Customs boat--the Geelong having just hove in sight. She is a fine vessel, and looked enormous as we approached her. I got on board with my baggage without difficulty--and, finding that breakfast was just over, ordered a mutton chop and a cup of coffee, my morning walk having made me very hungry. Meanwhile, I was shown to my cabin--a delightful one on the maindeck. It is extremely roomy and has two scuttles--an unusual luxury. Moreover, I am to have it all to myself. After breakfast I went to see the chief steward and paid my passage money to Southampton. Then I went on deck where I found the Captain (Dundas) to whom I introduced myself. He is a tall goodlooking man, and a gentleman. He enquired whether I was comfortably berthed, and said it was by his order that I had a cabin to myself. Altogether he seems to be the antithesis of Capt. Beale, of the Ruahine. And the vessel is decidedly the best I have ever sailed in. Everything is well-appointed and in good taste. Indeed, the P & O ships are as everyone knows, famous in this respect. Capt. Dundas gave me some bits of information which I thought very satisfactory. 1. We are due at Galle in 17 days only. 2. The monsoon, having only just set in, is not likely to be severe. 3. The Red Sea, although hot enough even at this season, is by no means so bad as later in the year. (September is the worst month) and going up we are sure to have a fresh breeze ahead, which makes the heat quite endurable. On the other hand I find to my sorrow, that we shall not go near the Pyramids--or Cairo--a new and shorter line of railway having been opened, leaving both far to the left. Our next stopping place is King Georges Sound, in Western Australia. We do not call at Adelaide. We are due at the former place five clear days after leaving Melbourne--but as there is a head wind and rather heavy sea, we shall probably be late. It is delightful to think that I am fairly homeward bound. The ship pitches a good deal, but as yet I am quite comfortable. The hours for meals are much the same as in other steamers. Breakfast is at 8.30. Lunch at 12--Dinner at 4--Tea at 7. Then at 8.30, wine and spirits and water are placed on the table, and you may have a sandwich if you wish it. The cuisine is most excellent, and the ship find drinkables of all sorts, without extra payment. I was placed at the Captain's right hand at table. The Naval Mail agent, Capt. Stalkhouse, (who did not wear his uniform) sat opposite. There are not a great many passengers. Two ladies are down with seasickness, poor things. The husband of one of them, Mr. Mellish, a Canterbury colonist, sits next to me. Below him is Mr. W. Teschemaker, brother to Miss Fenwick's young man.

May 25. Today I fancy is the Choral Festival at Canterbury. I wonder how Wood is getting on. The head wind still continuing, the ship pitches [179/180] and takes a good deal of water on board. So the decks are not pleasant walking. At noon today we had run 182 miles in the 24 hours and were in Lat.38.53 S and Long. 140.38 E. There seems to be a chance of our being at K. George's Sound on Sunday. I hope we may. I have been reading in the Home News the death of poor S. E. Walker of Lord Wynford, and of old Meynell-Ingram.

May 26. Lat.38.12 S Long.137.20 E. Distance run 160 miles. A bad day's run--accounted for by the tremendous weather we have had. All last night it blew a heavy gale, and the sea was very high. I could not sleep at all for the rolling of the ship. The wind moderated a little after daybreak--but the sea is still extremely high. At breakfast this morning I actually felt uncomfortable and had to retire with some precipitation. It was the sleepless night I fancy, in a great measure. I was all right as soon as I got on my back in my cabin. We are now crossing the Great Australian Bight. I forgot to mention before the loss by fire, off the Falkland Islands, of the poor Blue Jacket, on her homeward voyage from Port Lyttelton. I heard of it at Port Phillip. I remembered how I wished to sail in her, and my friendly conversation with Captain White, on board the Phoebe. Heard the passengers were saved, but one boat seem to be missing, with officers and men on board.

May 27. C.C.D. Lat.37.30 S Long.132.43 E. Distance run 225 miles. A much better day's work. The sea is almost smooth, and the weather fine and mild. We are 753 miles from Breaksea Island, at the entrance of K. George's Sound. The two lady passengers, Mrs. Mellish and her sister, Miss Smith, made their appearance today. They have been very ill but seem all right now. I took a good long walk today on the quarter deck.

May 28. Lat.36.42 S Long. 127.22 E. Distance 259 miles. The wind having got to N.E. we are making excellent progress. The square canvas was set this morning. Capt. Dundas will not allow the men to sing or shout when they make or shorten sail. Hence the Geelong is an unusually quiet ship. If this wind lasts, we shall get into the Sound easily on Sunday morning.

May 29. Lat.35°59'30" S Long.122.30 E. Dist. run 246 miles. The wind drew ahead in the night, and continued in the same quarter all day. Our chance of getting in tomorrow is diminishing. We are 218 miles from Breaksea Island.

May 30. 1st Sunday after Trinity. Lat. 35°8 _ S Long. 118.50 E. Dist. run 176 miles. Wind still ahead blowing a gale all night which increased through the day. At 2 p.m. it was intensely severe. I had service in the [180/181] saloon at 10.30. Preached on the Gospel. It was rather hard work, holding forth and holding on, at the same time. Later in the afternoon the gale was terrific. We arrived off the entrance of the Sound about sunset--but as there was no possibility of getting in, we lay to till morning--the ship rolling fearfully all night. On this account I could not have Evensong, for there was no sitting at the saloon table. I turned in early, but could get no sleep till nearly morning.

May 31. We anchored in the Sound about 4.30 a.m. It was very pleasant to be at rest, after yesterday's shaking. We are 2_ days after our time, and the common idea here was that we were wrecked. After breakfast the captain placed his gig and crew at my disposal, and I went ashore, with Mr. and Mrs. Mellish and Miss Smith. I steered the boat. It was a glorious day, very, yet not too, warm. The climate of W. Australia seems to be perfection. This is a convict settlement: the consequence is the roads are first rate. The population of Albany, by which name the township is distinguished, is but small, 500. The houses are very scattered, some of them have an old look, which takes one by surprise. They might easily be mistaken for 200 years old. I fancy people know less about Western Australia, than about most other settled parts of this great continent. Yet, under the name of the Swan River settlement, it was a good deal talked about years ago. The country about King George's Sound is not remarkably striking, as far as scenery is concerned; but the air is clear, and the climate, as already mentioned, delightful. The heights above Albany are covered with huge granite rocks, which have a singular effect--not unlike that of the Cornish Logans.

The soil of the low ground is principally comprised of the debris of the granite. Perth, the capital, is 200 miles away to the N.E. There is a good road, as wide as Regent Street, all the way. On landing, we walked through the town, such as it is, a mile or two into the country. One of our objects was to see some of the natives, and in this we were not disappointed. Indeed, we saw only too much of them. They followed us about, begging, and proposing for a consideration to display their skill in throwing the boomerang and spear, and in performing a "corobbery"--which I had always imagined to be something to eat. The former exhibition was really remarkable--One of the performers was "King". A most repulsive looking savage--as indeed, were all we saw, male and female. Their "King" was tattooed and painted--He affected a majestic air in his gait, and in the way he carried his kangaroo skin robe--but it was a very poor pretence, and it disappeared entirely when the boomerang throwing began. The "corobbery" was an extremely tame and uninteresting dance, by a number of natives collected for this purpose, by a resident, who was good enough to act as [181/182] our cicerone. There is a church here--not much of a building. The clergyman, whose acquaintance I made, is Mr. McSorley, a gentleman who once wrote to ask me to give him work in Dunedin. He was very attentive to me and took me to call on the resident magistrate--who has a nice house with a pretty and well kept garden. We visited an excellent school for native children, who seem, as far as I could make out, to be purchased from their parents. They all looked nice and clean. I heard them read, which they did very creditably; and also sing, which was a less admirable performance. But a most astonishing circumstance, was that several of the boys, little fellows of 10, and even younger, sang their tunes an octave below the others--i.e. quite with men's voices. I learnt that this is here a common phenomenon. The effect was very odd, nor can I at all account for it. Mr. McSorley spoke well of the convicts. They give, he says, very little trouble; and their presence is a great advantage to the colony. It is next to impossible for them to escape--the ports being closely watched, and no land communication existing with other parts of the Australian continent. South Australia is the nearest colony, but the intervening country is a howling wilderness or else an impenetrable bush. Mr. Eyre (later Governor of Jamaica) once tried to make his way to Adelaide, but failed and was obliged to return, after losing his attendants by the treachery of the "black fellows", and nearly perishing with thirst. The flora of this neighbourhood is most abundant and beautiful. Even in this "winter" season, the waste ground is covered with flowering shrubs--Most conspicuous were the scarlet blossoms of Beaufortia sparva a nuptaceous plant. (Pastoris Brit. Flower.) I noticed also a handsome Proteaceous shrub, not in flower, Banksia coccinea. We visited a man who seems to get a living by collecting seed, for sale. He was good enough to give me a small collection of dried plants, found in the immediate vicinity of K. George's Sound. At 6 precisely just as we were sitting down to dinner, the Geelong got underway. Our party in the saloon is increased by three. Madame Anna Bishop,* [Footnote: * Ann Bishop (1814-1884) nee Riviere. Married 1831 Sir Henry Rowley Bishop, (1786-1855, the manager of some of Mozart's and Rossini's operas and the first English musician to be knighted, 1842) eloped with Bochsa, the harp player in 1839 and travelled widely in Europe, America and Australia as a singer. Died New York.] and her husband (Mr. Schultz) and a female friend. They are going to England. Madame seemed to know me and asked after Mrs. James Smith. She had been performing at Adelaide last, whence a steamer runs to K. George's Sound, in correspondence with the P & O boats.

June 1. At noon today, we were in Lat.35.12 S Long.115.29 E.55 miles to the S. W. of Cape Leeuwin, the S. W. extremity of Australia. We ran 150 miles in the 18 hours. There is a good deal of sea today, though very little wind. This is caused, says Capt. Dundas, by a gale a thou-[182/183]sand miles away, perhaps to the Southward. We had oysters for lunch, and oyster patties for dinner--a large and coarse kind found (the oyster not the patties) in the Sound. At 6 p.m. our course was altered, and we are now steering straight for Ceylon. The next land we shall see is Point de Galle, and in three days we shall be in the tropics. I am going to write home from Alexandria. The letter will go via Marseilles, and will contain an announcement, which will cause not a little commotion at Preston--viz. that I shall arrive in five days!

June 2. The long S.W. swell continued all night, and was very unpleasant. The incessant rolling destroyed my night's rest. As the morning advanced, however, the sea became smoother, and the day turned out very fine. There was no wind, and the weather is very perceptibly warmer. Everybody on board is putting on lighter clothing. A magnificent sunset this evening. (Lat.32.52 S Long. 112.28 E Run 215 miles).

June 3. (Lat.29.54 S Long.109.40 E Day's run 229 miles.) What little wind there is, continues ahead, but the weather is delightful. We are 1298 miles from Keeling's Island at noon; this is the nearest land we shall pass on our way to Galle.

June 4. (Lat.26.39 S Long.106.38 E. Day's run 253 miles.) I thought of dear Mrs. Slater the first thing on awakening--i.e. at 5 a.m., when they begin washing the decks a hateful, but no doubt necessary, operation: but surely the evil is needlessly aggravated by the tremendous thumps indulged in by the sweepers, in using their brooms. The saloon table this evening was entirely occupied with whist players. This will be a nuisance if it continues. The day was lovely again. The wind being rather more abeam, the fore and aft sails are set. We passed two vessels one at noon, the other about 3 p.m. both were large barques bound from England to China, through the Straits of Sunda. It is usual, it seems, for such vessels on the outward voyage to go within sight of the Australian coast, for the sake of getting a "departure" before they bear up for their destination. Capt. Dundas gave me today a "Penang Lawyer" which will make a very handsome walking stick when it is polished, etc.

June 5. Lat.23.31 S Long. 103.42 E Day's run 246 miles. Considering the weather, the day's run was a poor one. It has been calm and cloudy since yesterday afternoon. We have just entered the tropics, and Capt. Dundas expects to get into the Trade tonight. Then we shall make more rapid progress. The engines were stopped in the evening--a screw being loose somewhere. I had a good long walk on deck today.

June 6. 2nd Sunday after Trinity. I wonder whether they are remembering this day at Preston. That is to say, I don't wonder. But they little imagine that I am within six weeks of England. We got into [183/184] the S.E. Trades during the night. The sea is high. All square canvas set. The day is dark and rainy--and rather cold--fancy that in the tropics! We had the punkah at breakfast this morning for the first time. It was not much needed--but we shall find it a great comfort further on. It is not at all the kind of thing I expected to see. Madame Bishop presented me with a tortoise shell paper knife this morning. I had Matins at 10.30. A large attendance. I preached for 23 minutes on the Gospel. A much more comfortable service than last Sunday's. The Captain told me today that he intended to speak to the agent at Galle, about getting me a cabin to myself on board the Suez steamer. This will be a huge comfort. Capt. D. is as kind and attentive as it is possible for a man in his position to be. I had Evensong at 6.30--good attendance again. A very warm night. Run today the best we have made, 262 miles. Lat. 20.16 S Long. 100.36 E.

June 7. I had a bath this morning at 7--which I greatly enjoyed. The Indian Ocean does not seem nearly so salty as the Pacific. We made an excellent run today 293 miles--Lat. 16.20 S Long.97.26 E. The Captain expects to be at Galle on Monday the 14th. The weather today is delightful. The trade wind is taking us along bravely, and is besides most refreshing. There is a bright sun and the ocean is of a colour surpassingly lovely--like liquid ultramarine. I have been reading today Mr. Washington Morn's book--"The Dean's English". I was not previously aware that the poor Dean got so terribly demolished, by his formidable adversary. The punkah was very pleasant at breakfast and dinner. I spent the first part of the night, up to 12, on the skylight on deck. I spread my 'possum rug, and slept comfortably. I had the gratification of seeing some old friends this evening. After a gorgeous sunset, out rushed, to use Coleridge's expression, Ursa major, Arcturus, Corona Borealis and Leo Major. I had not seen them for six months and they looked quite homelike. The Southern Constellations were very bright tonight. Crux Australis was nearly upright. Canopus equalled Sirius in brilliancy.

June 8. Day's run 280 miles. Lat. 13.1 S Long.94.14 E. Distance from Point de Galle, 1415 miles. A good run though not quite equal to yesterday's. An average 250 miles would get us into Galle on Sunday afternoon. The weather continues charming--though the heat is great today. I got my bath at 7 a.m. and enjoyed it greatly. The Captain has a special bath of extra size (being a fine tall man) and it is often possible to get it after he has done. There were a few flying fish about the ship today. And a whale was seen within 300 yards of us. I was asleep, and missed the sight. Some "boobies" also appeared. They belong to the Keeling or Coco Islands, which we left 150 miles to Eastward of our course.

[185] June 9. Run 274 miles. Lat.9.38 S Long.91.13 E. 1142 miles from Pt. de Galle. The water in the bath is getting very warm. The "Trade" is dropping light; hence the shorter runs but the weather continues most magnificent. There is a double awning over the quarter deck. This quite keeps the sun's rays from being oppressive: and there is, besides, a nice current of air. The wind freshened a little after sunset, and my two scuttles being open all night, it was fairly cool. This day 25 years, I was ordained Priest.

June 10. Run 271 miles. Lat.5.57 S Long.88.28 E. 870 miles to Galle. Soon after sunrise there was a heavy shower, and others during the day, a sign of changing weather. The wind dropped to a calm in the afternoon, and it became fearfully hot. The captain expects to cross the Equator on Saturday (the 12th) and to arrive off Galle the next evening, but we shall not enter the harbour before daybreak on Monday. A most oppressive night.

June 11. S. Barnabas. Run 264 miles. Lat.2.16 S Long.85.3 E 608 miles to Galle. A better day's run than was expected--the "Trade" which had apparently failed us, having sprung up again. The weather is very dull--drizzling rain perpetually; hot and stuffy atmosphere. This day 26 years I was ordained Deacon. One or two passengers had their beds made up on deck this evening, but the rain interfered with their comfort. We are to cross the line before daylight. The day was more oppressive than any we have had yet. The water, wine and soda water are all tepid--there being no ice on board.

June 12. At 3 a.m. we crossed the Equator. The wind freshened considerably this morning. It seems we have got into the influence of the Monsoon. A heavyish sea was running by noon. Run 246 miles. Lat.1.15 N Long.83.57 E. To Galle 363 miles. We shall not get into the harbour before Monday morning; quite soon enough as the Suez steamer does not leave till Tuesday evening. The heat was most oppressive all day--the consequence was I felt by no means well. Loss of appetite, the chief symptom.

June 13. 3rd Sunday after Trinity. Lat.4.34_ N Long.81.17 E Run 255 miles. To Galle 105 miles. We shall, or might, be off Galle by 10 this evening--but we shall keep away from the land till daylight. The monsoon has been blowing hard all night, and there is a heavy sea this morning. We had Matins in the saloon at 10.30. I preached on the Gospel. I sat all through the Lessons and Sermon, and found I could get on much more comfortably. Evensong at 6.30. The weather moderated before sunset.

June 14. The coast of Ceylon was visible from the scuttle of my cabin when I turned out this morning. We anchored in Galle harbour at [185/186] 8 a.m. I went on deck as soon as I was dressed, and enjoyed my first Oriental prospect. One hardly knew what to admire most, or first, I think my eyes rested with the greatest pleasure on the glorious Cocoa nut groves along the Eastern shore of the harbour. The town, viewed from the anchorage, is not particularly attractive--An ugly church tower which I afterwards found belonged to a Dutch Presbyterian building--and the old and crazy looking "fortifications" are the most conspicuous objects. About a cable's length from us was moored the Deccan the largest steamer in the P & O service--and a monster she looked. A little further, lay the Surat which is to take us to Suez; also a very fine vessel. There were numbers of others anchored in the harbour, all rising and falling with the strong swell which a S.W. wind always causes here. We had hardly reached our moorings, before the ship was surrounded by a multitude of canoes and boats manned by more than half-naked natives, of various shades of brown, several of the Asiatic races being represented. They brought men with all kinds of things for sale, who were very pertinaceous traders.

The Captain most kindly lent me his gig, in which I went ashore immediately after breakfast. Both embarking and disembarking are operations attended to with no little danger. You have to wait at the bottom on the gangway ladder, for the boat to rise to a level with your feet, and then warily step in. It you lose the opportunity, the boat sinks down several feet below you. It is even worse getting from the boat up the gangway. At the landing place we found a crowd of noisy natives, whose attentions were overpowering. Everybody wanted to sell you something. I walked with the Mellishes up from the pier to the Pavilion Hotel. As I passed the Barracks, the guard turned out and presented arms. I was greatly struck with the trees with which the streets are planted. Close to the old Dutch gateway leading into the town there is a noble bread fruit tree. And in more than one street there is a row of gorgeous Poinsettia Regina in full flower. At the hotel we found more natives, carrying on a brisk trade in ebony workboxes, tortoishell ornaments, elephants' teeth and real or sham sapphires. Others had dresses, and embroidered muslin and calico things. They invariably asked at least six times the price that they ended up taking. I was invited by Madame Bishop to "tiffin"--a capital meal. The fruit on the table was exquisite--mangoes, pineapples and oranges. The mango is certainly the finest fruit I ever tasted. In the afternoon I walked out on the ramparts, but the sun was too powerful for comfort, or indeed, safety. A most prodigious surf was running from the Indian Ocean and breaking against some lofty detached rocks. The spray ascended to an amazing height. I stood for some time watching the natives fishing among the rocks. They seemed to have good sport. At 6 p.m. I went on board the Surat for the night. The boat that took me off was manned [186/187] by six Cingalese, who sang the whole way in chorus--the most frightful noise. The Surat is a splendid vessel, nearly twice as large as the Geelong. Capt. Dundas kept his word, and got me a cabin all to myself on the main deck--a very small one, but there is a fine large port which can be kept open in almost any weather. The Surat seems to be built with a view to the heat of these latitudes. Her bulwarks are open--i.e. with network instead of wooden panels, so that the air can enter freely. There are a good many passengers; most, of the used up Indian class, several are seriously ill. Capt. Greaves is a musical man and there is always singing during service on Sundays. A clerical looking gentleman with a long beard I find is the "Rev. Stewart Wright" Presbyterian Minister of Madras. I had a cup of tea at 7, and at 9.30, a sandwich, and some wine and water. Then turned in.

June 15. After breakfast one of the Geelong officers came on board the Surat in Capt. Dundas' gig--and at my request took me back with him to the G. There I saw Capt. D. who was going ashore and gave me a seat. By the way, the gig was as nearly as possible sunk, as we were leaving the Surat by the stern getting jammed by the tremendous swell under the lowest step of the gangway ladders. I went to the Pavilion Hotel again, and bought one or two little things off the native pedlars. It rained heavily almost all the afternoon. I went finally on board the Surat in a native boat, at 2.30. An excellent dinner, with abundance of fruit, was served at 4. Capt. Greaves, whose acquaintance I made just before we sat down, placed me at his righthand, the post of honour. I told him I hoped he would not give offence to other passengers of dignity--General Hodgson, for instance, the ex-Governor of Ceylon, who came on board in great style and was saluted with 17 guns. During and after dinner, I became acquainted with several of the passengers from Calcutta and Madras. Some very pleasant people sat near me at dinner. Dr. and Mrs. MacNamara and Mr. Palmer, who know all the Gouldsburgs--and some of the Lock's. Mr. & Mrs. Dunlop are relations of the Wollastons and knows Chislehurst well. Colonel and Miss Haines know Herbert Nepean and all the Wynyards and Lascelles. Mrs. Dunlop, a young wife, is an invalid. To all appearance, in a consumption.* [Footnote: * Poor Mrs. Dunlop died a few weeks after her arrival in England--of a rapid decline.] We were to have sailed at 5 p.m. but it was 8 before we got off. The Surat is manned by a large crew of Lascars; who weighed the anchor this evening to a lively air played on a fiddle by one of the ship's company.

June 16. Lat.6.20 N Long.78. E. Run 126 miles. With the exception of one or two heavy squalls of rain, the day was lovely. I got my bath at 7, after waiting a long time for my turn. It is curious to see the passengers lounging about the quarter deck all day--in every variety of [187/188] chair, and attitude. There are several children on board with Ayahs attending on them. One pretty little boy has a male (native) nurse, all to himself. The ship's doctor has a harmonium in his cabin, which he plays during service on Sundays. This evening he and the Captain and I tried some trios for A & T & B in the Captain's cabin. The doctor sings rather out of tune, and is a bad timeist--but Capt. Greaves has a capital bass voice and sings fairly. There are no less than six tigers on board--besides other animals and birds. I played three games at chess with Mr. Brown, of Adelaide, between luncheon and dinner, and won them all!

June 17. Run 240 miles. Lat.7.14 N Long.74.5 E. The weather continues magnificent. The Captain, who expected bad weather all this time, does not know what to make of it. Some of the experienced passengers declare that this kind of thing, during the S. W. Monsoon, is almost unprecedented. It is a great comfort, and I only hope that we shall not have to pay for it further on. The heat is very great, but a nice breeze ahead makes it endurable. I had some pleasant conversation with Capt. Greaves this evening. He expects to get into the worst part of the monsoon about Monday the 22nd, but tomorrow we shall be in a part of the sea, where fine and calm weather almost always prevails.

June 18. Run 221 miles Lat.7.22 N Long.71.24 E. A bad run, on account of the head wind, which takes effect on this huge ship--2,700 tons--Another splendid day--rather more wind and swell than hitherto, but no rain. It is a good deal warmer. What will it be in the Red Sea! Capt. Greaves says it, (the R.S.) is not so bad as people make out. We saw a great many flying fish today. After luncheon Mrs. Macnamara and I went and tried the saloon piano, a vile instrument. She had a good touch, and played one or two things by Mendelssohn and Heller, very fairly.

June 19. Robert's birthday (my brother--Capt. R.N.)--one is bound to think of him at sea. Run 219 miles. Lat.7.22 N Long.66.45 E. We have been sailing along the same parallel of latitude since noon yesterday. The weather still glorious. The wind being a little more abeam, the fore and aft sails are set. Not much difference between today and yesterday. Mr. Brown and I played chess from 1 till 3.30. I beat 5 out of 7. This day month, please God, I shall be at Preston. We had a "tea party" in the Doctor's cabin this evening--the Captain, Mr. Palmer, Dr. & Mrs. Macnamara, Mr. & Mrs. Dunlop and myself. The cabin just held us, and the atmosphere would have been unbearable, had not the punkah been kept going unceasingly.

June 20. 4 S. after Trinity. Run 222 miles. Lat.7.27 N Long.63.1 E. Much more wind today, and squalls of heavy rain at day break and [188/189] afterwards, but by 10 the weather cleared up and became lovely again. At 10.30 we had a really nice service on the quarter deck, the doctor played the harmonium--there was a choir of stewards, etc. and we chanted the canticles and sang two hymns. The attendance was very good, and the congregation joined well in the singing. I preached on the Gospel for 22 minutes. My plan on these occasions is to read the Epistle and Gospel, before beginning my sermon. We had Evensong, in the saloon, at 7.30, with the same amount of singing as at Matins. The last Hymn was "Abide with me", to the 1st tune.

June 21. Run 177 miles. Lat.7.32 N Long.60.4 E. A considerable sea and a head wind today. We are making very little progress. In the afternoon a sea was shipped which flooded the port maindeck cabin (someone having left his or her port open) and the water came across the saloon into my cabin. No great damage done. This is the first day we have had the fiddles* [Footnote: * A framework of bars and strings to keep things from sliding off the table in heavy weather.] on the table at breakfast and dinner. I had a slight attack of indigestion today; which is not to be wondered at.

June 22. 216 miles. Lat.8.32 N Long.56.42 E. Wind more abeam. The foresail was set about 9. The sea still high--but the day is lovely. Hitherto the weather has been marvellously favourable, considering the season. It is perceptibly cooler today but everything is moist and sticky from the spray. More square canvas set in the afternoon. In the evening, Capt. Naper--General Hodgson's aide-de-camp--introduced himself to me. He asked whether I was any relation to his Colonel--It turned out that he belongs to the 11th. About 8 a.m. the wind freshened and there was a nasty confused sea. We are now entering the worst part of the monsoon.

June 23. Run 218 miles--Lat.9.36 N Long.53.12 E. 190 miles from Cape Guardafui. The Monsoon is upon us now, without a doubt. It is blowing tremendously, with a sea beyond anything I ever saw. It can't last much longer, which is a comfort. When we get round the Cape, we shall be in smooth water. I had a very bad night. Till 12.30 I kept my port open--but then, fearing that the water might come in, I shut it. At 3.30 I awoke half suffocated, in the middle of a dream, wherein I thought I was holding a Confirmation in Calcutta Cathedral--the association with the "Black Hole" being obvious. I jumped out of bed, and rushed into the saloon, where the fresh air revived me. I returned; opened my port, and slept till 5. I could not have believed that such inconvenience would have resulted from the closing of the port the cabin door being wide open, and the ventilation otherwise good. Happily I am on the lee side of the ship. The weather ports cannot possibly [189/190] be opened without a certainty of shipping water. All the forenoon, I sat on the quarterdeck reading and writing my journal. Several seas came on board, to our great discomfort. The ship being very "lively", people are continually spinning about the deck in their chairs Scarcely had these last words been written, when a catastrophe befell me, which might have been more serious than it was. I was seated on a chair belonging to Mrs. Mellish, which, by the way, she had herself occupied most of the morning. It was lashed to one of the heavy deck seats, which, in turn, was made fast to the skylight. A heavier lurch than ordinary caused the lashings to part, and the deck seat, chair, and I, bore down together to leeward, wrecking several chairs and wounding several passengers, before we brought up against the lee bulwarks. Here, my leg got jammed between my own chair and that on which another passenger, (a heavy man) was sitting. The result was a severe abrasion and contusion, just below the knee, which I expect will cause lameness for a day or two. What would have happened if Mrs. Mellish had been sitting in her chair! The gale got stronger and stronger till 4 p.m. when it abated a little. It freshened again however, towards sunset. We carried away the foresail last night, and several other sails were damaged. To bed early.

June 24. S. John Baptist. At 5 a.m. I awoke in a profuse perspiration--The sea was perfectly calm, and the heat tremendous. Not a breath of air was stirring--a striking contrast to the weather of yesterday. I at once came to the conclusion that we had got round Cape Guardafui, which turned out to be the case. As soon as I was dressed, I went on deck, and there was the African coast just looming through the haze on our port beam. It looked very rugged and bare, and seemed to glow in the heat, like a furnace. The haze cleared a little during the morning, but not much more was to be seen, and we soon got altogether out of sight of the land again. Capt. Greaves told me that the country in the neighbourhood of Cape Guardafui is uninhabited--except by a wandering tribe or two--who are very savage, and suspected even of being cannibals. The run today was 287 miles. Lat.12.6 N Long.49.49 S. To Aden 279 miles. The intense heat lasted all day. It was beyond all my former experience. The therm, on the quarterdeck under a double awning stood at 91. We are to have it hotter still, it seems in the Red Sea. The Monsoon has dealt very gently with us. There has been only 36 hours of really violent weather. This evening, the piano was brought on deck, and there was some music. But in the middle of it, the death of Mr. Allardice, a passenger who came on board in a moribund state, was announced. He was in Mr. Wright's charge, being a Presbyterian. The poor man was light headed to the last.

[191] June 25. I got a note from the Captain this morning, apologising for having asked Mr. Wright to bury the deceased gentleman. I had no objection of course, under the circumstances. He was committed to the deep, at 10 this morning. A nice breeze sprang up while we were at breakfast, which moderated the heat. The run today was 249 miles Lat.12.46 N Long.45.38 E. This brings us at noon to within 30 miles of Aden; and at 2 we sighted the Arabian coast, my first view of the continent of Asia. Very bold and broken is the coastline. We anchored in the bay just before we went to dinner. We had no sooner entered the bay than a number of natives--about 30--swam off to meet us. Directly they came alongside--shouts of Backsheech arose from the water. Some of the passengers amused themselves by throwing coins to them. It was wonderful to see the whole party disappear under the water, as soon as the money was seen. It was always caught long before it reached the bottom. They would not dive for copper, as I found, on throwing a penny in. After dinner, I went ashore with the Mellishes to see the place. We determined to hire a carriage and visit the Tanks--huge excavations in the rock, probably 2000 years old, but only recently discovered and repaired. They are near the Cantonments, a town about 4 miles from Aden. No words can express the utter desolation of the country. It is a wilderness, indeed! The soil is entirely volcanic, and not a plant is to be seen--The road is skirted on the right by a lofty range of rocky heights--very bold and precipitous. At one or two points we noticed the ruins of ancient fortifications, high up on the rocks. We met a great many natives. Most of the women wore the yashmak over their faces but some were quite unveiled. The men wore nothing in particular--i.e. the lower classes. We passed a respectable looking Parsee riding on a donkey. He had very short stirrups, and the animal being obviously not up to his weight, the pair had a comical look. At the Cantonments we bought some handsome ostrich feathers, which are brought from the African side. The tanks we found well worth seeing. They were not nearly full--no rain having fallen for 18 months. We witnessed a scene here that could not have differed much, if at all, from one that might have been observed any number of years, say 2000, ago. At sunset, crowds of men and boys collected round the taps of the tanks, and with shouts and screams and confusion, like a second Babel, drew skinfuls of water which they carried off on camels and donkeys. To a stranger there is something very striking in the number of camels. It was dark when we returned to Aden--We got on board again at 9--and left our anchorage at 12. The night was fearfully hot. I was very glad to see Aden and the neighbourhood, but the place offered no temptation to remain longer than could be helped. There are great numbers of Jews here.

[192] June 26. Run, from midnight to noon, 117 miles. Lat.13.2 N Long.43.18 E. At breakfast we were close to the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, through which we entered the Red Sea about 9.30. Unspeakably interesting it is to find one's self in these historical waters. The heat is intense today. Therm. 95° Fahr. in the shade. Not a breath of air. The sea is perfectly calm and smooth, save where a shoal of "skip-jacks" are dancing about, and gulls trying to catch them. There is a haze, which shrouds everything from view a mile from the ship. Strange to say, though this is the hottest day we have had, the high temperature affects me less than it did--and less than most of the other passengers. We passed Moka in the afternoon--a good sized town apparently, on the Arabian coast--close to the sea. Several islands appeared on both sides, all arid, treeless and uninhabited. The whole day, the calm continued, I played chess with Mr. Brown who suffers terribly from the heat. In the evening we had some music on deck. I found among the passengers a man with a fair bass voice--Mr. Tinne, and we sang Integer vitae and other quartettes with some effect.

June 27. 5 S. after Trinity. The therm, stands still higher today--99° at 9 a.m. Matins on the quarterdeck at 10.30. In spite of the heat (during service the glass rose to 105°!) I preached on the Gospel with more comfort than I could have hoped for The exceeding interest of preaching in the Red Sea carried me away--and made me forgetful of the temperature. A variety of "local allusions" forced themselves upon me as I went on. The re-action when I had finished was terrible. I was completely exhausted and only restored by a small bottle of champagne, for which I claimed the doctor's order. (No one may have champagne except as a "medicine".) In the afternoon, a nice breeze sprang up. We had Evensong in the saloon at 7.30. I preached about Saul, apropos of the day's 1st lessons. I was all over "prickly heat" today, as indeed are most of the passengers--especially the children. At present it gives me very little annoyance. The day's run was 234 miles--Lat. 16.20 N Long.41.17 E.

June 28. The heat is much less oppressive today, on account of the head wind. The rash of the "prickly heat" has greatly increased, but, I scarcely feel it at all. The necks of the ladies and children are covered with it, and everybody is suffering more or less. I began a letter home. It is to be posted by one of the passengers who is going via Marseilles. Mr. Brown and I played chess in the afternoon. After tea we had some part singing, which went very well. Run 225 m. Lat.19.36 N Long.39.14 E.

June 29. S. Peter's Day. The weather is decidedly cooler. We are just out of the Tropics, and there is a delightful breeze. We passed the [192/193] Nubia from Suez to Bombay, at 8 a.m. and overtook the steamer (Salsette) from Bombay during the forenoon. I am covered with the "prickly heat" rash, and it feels just a little uncomfortable. A cup of hot tea makes the whole skin tingle! It is said to be a healthy thing to have. In the afternoon we passed S. John's Island, a very sharp and lofty peak. In the evening we had some music again.

June 30. The water in the bath was almost cold this morning. It is a very pleasant day. It was announced that we shall arrive at Suez tomorrow by 1 p.m. and get off to Alexandria that night. There was a mock trial today of a certain Calcutta Baboo, a first class passenger who had been getting tipsy perpetually and had committed various excesses in his cups. He was fined 10 rupees, I thought it a great mistake to make a joke of such serious charges.

July 1. The night was quite cool, and so was the water in the bath. Last evening, just before sunset, we entered the Gulf of Suez. In rounding a point on the W. side we passed close along the shore, and got a good view of the country. A scene of utter desolation, the like of which I never before beheld. Not a sign of life, animal or vegetable. When we got abreast of the point, a hot wind blew from the desert, the most fearful blast, like the breath of a furnace. All the passengers were assembled on the forecastle, the better to observe the coast and all were more or less prostrated by the hot wind: which was made the more intolerable by the particles of sand with which it was charged. The thermometer went up to 102 under its influence. As soon as we got round the point, the wind, which now blew over the sea, became cool again. This morning at breakfast time, we were abreast of the Atika mountains, a range which extends from Egypt to Abyssinia. Here was another desolate scene. We anchored at Suez about noon, and had dinner at 1, but it was nearly 5 before the steamer tender came for the passengers. Suez is a most wretched place. The Canal works seem to be the only objects of interest and of these not much could be seen. * [Footnote: * The Prince and the Princess of Wales had visited the works on 23 March, and the Canal was opened in the presence of the Emperor of Austria, the Empress of the French and the Viceroy of Egypt on the 17th November 1869.] At 6, we had a very poor and dear tea at the Hotel. We had to wait till 10 p.m. before the train started for Alexandria, the Bombay steamer being after its time. I was standing on the beach, after tea, when a man accosted me by name, and informed me he had known me from my youth. He turned out to be a son of George James of Chislehurst. (He was indignant at my supposing it possible that he could be the son of Henry J. not that there was much to choose between them as far as I recollect). He is a passenger from India, where he has been at work in his trade that of a mason. The train started at last I was in a carriage with the Mellishes and Mr. Teschmaker. A most fatiguing night. [193/194] There were boys selling porous bottles of Nile water on the platform. This was very refreshing. We stopped several times on the way. At one station there was supper to be had--very poor and dear. Here we waited a long time. It was in the heart of the desert. I walked a little way from the station, but of course could see nothing. Once or twice I thought I heard a jackal. The night was perfectly still, except when the engine snorted--an incongruous sound.

July 2. I managed after midnight to sleep a little. When I awoke it was just daylight, and the desert was passed. The train stopped at a station close to a village--a wonderful, and, to me, unprecedented scene. The natives were just getting up. A few yards from the train, a dignified gentleman, who had passed the night on the flat roof of his house, brought himself with much deliberation, and in many stages, to an erect posture. Then, after gazing about him for a minute or two, he commenced his "ablutions" and other devotions, with his face towards Mecca, i.e. in a S.E. direction. I fancy he used sand--not water. This is permitted by the Mahometan rule. The flat roofs are very curious--a house looks as if it had no roof. There were numbers of sleepers, just awaking, whose bed had been the bare ground. Camels and donkeys were very numerous everywhere. The country is densely populated: and highly cultivated, as we approached the Delta. We crossed two of the branches of the Nile and passed over a large portion of the district which is annually fertilized by the overflow of the river. Here crops of cotton, maize and rice were growing. Wheat and barley had been harvested, and were being winnowed by hand. Near every homestead large heaps of corn were to be seen: for as no rain ever falls here, there is no necessity for housing the grain. We saw no crocodiles, but in the cotton fields we noticed several pairs of the "Sacred Ibis". Were they after snakes, as of old? If they really kept down the number of reptiles, one can excuse the veneration with which they were regarded by the ancient Egyptians, and which they shared with crocodiles and a variety of other creatures:

"Quis nescit, Volusi Bithynia, qualia demens AEgyptus portenta colat? Crocodilon adorat Pars haec; ilia pavet saturam serpentibus Ibin.
Juv. XV.1-3.

At a station close to the Nile we stopped for breakfast. I was unable to eat, so, while the other passengers were at table, I walked down to the river bank, and washed my face and hands in its renowned waters. At every station, the carriage windows were beset by crowds of natives, offering for sale fruit and hard-boiled eggs. The people are not bad looking, or would not be but for the frightful disfigurement of ophthalmia, from which so many are suffering. Their colour is very dark. It was [194/195] difficult to reconcile the idea of a railway and its surroundings with the historic association of this ancient country. The natives, however, seem to take it all as a matter of course. And, indeed, they must have been pretty well accustomed to European peculiarities before the railway was opened, by the constant stream of passengers through Egypt on their way to or from India. All I saw was full of interest to me, I only wish I had been a little more lively but a restless night, and the intolerable dust, which increases as you approach Alexandria diminished my powers of observation and enjoyment. Just before we got to Alexandria, we passed over the bed of a lake, quite dry now, which I suppose is L. Mareotis. There was a deposit of salt in the place of water. The train entered the station at Alexandria, at 8.45. A regular pandemonium, this. The shouting, and wrangling, and general confusion, inside the station, and also in the street outside was intolerable. Here was a colluvies gentium, indeed,--representatives of all nations, trying, apparently, which could make the most noise. I went in an omnibus to "Abbat's Hotel", where I was glad to get a cold bath which made me feel much more comfortable. The Southampton steamer is not in yet. If she arrives tonight, we shall leave tomorrow. At 12, "tiffin" was served in the salle a manger--in the French style. A very good meal. In the afternoon, I walked out by myself. My first object was to find the principal Greek Church. Passing near a bookseller shop with a Greek superscription, I entered, and after trying the proprietor with French, which he understood not, I essayed to make myself intelligible in Greek. He brightened up when I mentioned Ekklhdia 'Elllciha [sic] and shewed me the way directly. When I got there, a service had just begun. It was unintelligible to me--An Ecclesiastic, standing with his face turned to the East, at a desk, placed at the East end of a row of stalls in the South aisle, was reciting some long prayers. When he had done, another took his place, while the first went into the South Chapel, and put on a stole* [Footnote: * The Greek stole is worn round the neck, one end only hanging down in front--like an archbishop's pall.] over the black robe which he had hitherto worn. Then, while the other went on with his recitations, the first walked round the church censing "persons and things" with a silver thurible, to which small bells were attached. Then an old man in an ordinary, and rather shabby, dress, took his place at a desk on the opposite side of the aisle, and began chanting something. The effect, musically, was very much that of a jig, the measure being 6/8, allegro molto--sometimes the ecclesiastics present joined in. I was sorry I did not go inside the agiaL pulaid. The Elkogo' sVaoiV [sic] is covered with pictures and surmounted by a large Crucifixion, painted, on canvas, in a cross shaped frame. There were nine hanging lamps of silver, burning before the screen, and, a little further Westward, seven three-[195/196] branched candlesticks of huge size, also of silver. The nave is large and lofty, and has constructional galleries on each side. It is divided from the aisles by very tall grey marble pillars, supporting narrow arches. There is a chorus cantorum at the Eastend, with two rows of wooden stalls: each row terminating in a large canopied "throne". The pulpit is very high. The Church stands in a square, round which there are cloisters of modern date, in which appear to be the dwellings of the clergy. When the service was over, I accosted one of the Priests, who not understanding my French, beckoned me into a room where was a man, apparently an official of some kind, who knew a little French. I told him that I was a Bishop of the English Church--upon which they both became extremely deferential. The interpreter called me "Monseigneur" and the Ecclesiastic bowed with great humility. I enquired where the Patriarch lived. I found he has little direct intercourse with this church, and dwells in a monastery at some distance. I tried in vain to find it: and after traversing a great part of the town, and threading some of the worst streets, I gave up the search. The sun was extremely powerful, and my prickly heat gave me much annoyance. In returning to the hotel, I got on the outside of the city, where there are some nice surburban residences. I looked into the garden of one, in which the flowers and shrubs were lovely. I also took a walk through the "square", a fine, open oblong space in the middle of the town. It was full of people riding, walking, and in carriages. We had an excellent dinner at 6, at the Hotel. Most of the Surat passengers are staying there.

July 3. I slept well and under the protection of mosquito curtains, escaped being bitten. At 7 a.m. I went in a carriage with the Mellishes to the port, which we left in the tender at 8. I got a very good cabin, all to myself, on board the Delhi, which is to take us to Southampton. We breakfasted on board, and at 12.30 we weighed anchor and were soon in the Mediterranean. It is very hot, though a nice breeze is blowing. Scarcely any swell. The baggage came alongside two hours before we sailed. I sent my letters home by a Marseilles passenger, to be posted at Dover. At dinner today, I was very nearly getting no seat. Hitherto, i.e. in the two former ships, my place had been assigned to me, and trusting to this being done on board the Delhi also, I took no measures to secure one. When I appeared at the table every place was taken. My steward found me a corner at which I sat, on a very ricketty stool, inwardly resolving to help myself to a better seat at any risk, tomorrow. Mr. Mellish complained to the purser about it--but it appears to be the rule of this ship that every passenger must take care of himself at meals. In the evening, Capt. Bevin introduced himself, and asked me about service tomorrow. I agreed to take everything. I was obliged to [196/197] reject his suggestion that the Revd. Mr. Wright should be asked to assist. We have had excellent ripe figs, at every meal. My prickly heat continues very bad.

July 4. 6th S. after Trinity. In spite of the attacks of gnats or mosquitoes which bit me all over, I slept soundly. At breakfast I managed to secure a good place, next to Mr. Teschemaker. We had Matins at 11. There was a very large attendance of all classes of passengers, besides seamen. I preached on the Gospel, as usual, for 23 minutes. The congregation were very attentive, with the one exception of the pursy purser, (weight 20 stone) who went to sleep. The Captain would have singing, for which there had been no preparation, and which proved rather a failure. Miss Smith played the harmonium and we attempted the Canticles and Glorias to awful double chants. The effect of these, and of Psalm 24 (Tate & Brady!) to S. Peter's, was almost ludicrous. Scarcely anybody joined. I shall not tolerate this kind of thing again. We had Evensong at 7.30 in the saloon. I had made arrangements about the singing, and a little practice with Miss Smith, the Captain, and others, made the evening service a decided improvement. Tate & Brady, alas! is the only available hymnal. I chose some single chants for the Canticles. Preached for 25 minutes about David. Prickly heat better.

July 5. A lovely morning, but there is an uncomfortable sea running, and the ship pitches a good deal. I was extremely drowsy all the morning and just before "tiffin" I fell asleep in the saloon. I have not been disturbed in the occupation of my seat at table. The purser and I had a long talk in the evening, that is to say, he did the talking, and I listened. It seems we are to get into Southampton water on Thursday evening, the 15th, but shall not enter the docks till next morning. The purser promises to get my baggage through the Customs House without delay, so I may indulge the hope of getting away in time to reach Preston on the Friday night--next week, I beg to observe. I hope this is not all a dream after all. It is difficult to believe it can be true.

July 6. The weather still magnificent. The Mediterranean is perfectly smooth. We could, indeed, bear a little more wind, for it is rather hot: nothing like the Red Sea, however. At noon today, we were 86 miles from Malta and at 5 we came in sight of the island. It was 7.30 before we anchored, and there was barely light enough to get a general idea of the place. Most of the passengers landed. I was with the Mellishes, part of the time. Then, while they were making purchases, I wandered about the streets of Valetta, wondering at their extreme narrowness, and at the height of the stone built houses. These appeared to me to be of 16th century date. There is a long and tedious series of stone steps, [197/198] from the harbour to the town. 5,000 British troops are quartered here, and several men of war are anchored in the harbour. I was in the square in front of the barracks, at tattoo and the pipes and drums were very effective. There were an amazing number of ecclesiastics in the streets, wearing long soutanes and broad brimmed hats. I was much disappointed to find that the Church of San Giovanni, with the monuments of the Knights of S. John, was closed, and could not be seen. I went on board at 10--and turned in just as the Delhi got under way i.e. at midnight precisely. The coral ornaments in the Maltese shops are exquisitely beautiful, and the lace, also.

July 7. Another glorious day. The Mediterranean is certainly very lovely and well behaved. Twenty four fresh passengers came on board last night, an influx that made me tremble for my cabin; but although some passengers had to admit one or more of the new arrivals to their cabins, I was undisturbed. At about 11 a.m. the island of Pantelleria came in sight very bold and lofty, being 3,000 feet high. It is the Sicilian penal settlement. We were 856 miles from Gibraltar at noon. At 5 p.m. we passed Cape Bon, a rugged promontory on the African coast. At this time there were no less than 20 vessels in sight. It became almost chilly in the afternoon. All my prickly heat has disappeared, I am glad to say. At 6.30, we were off the Bay of Tunis. Carthage could be imagined, but not seen, being round the corner.

July 8. I was awakened in the middle of the night by the stoppage of the engines. It was very hazy, and it was necessary to keep on sounding with the deep sea lead, lest the ship should go ashore among the islands. The delay was only for half an hour. At noon, we were 604 miles from Gibraltar. There is only 35 minutes difference between our time and Greenwich the meridian of which we shall cross tomorrow evening.

July 9. At 5 a.m. a squadron of six French iron clads passed quite close to us on their way to Algiers I was asleep and so missed seeing them. They were all under canvas. It is cooler today -but very fine. There is a haze over the African coast, which prevents our seeing the Atlas range. The snowy summits of which would otherwise be in sight. At noon we were 324 miles from Gibraltar. This week will I think be the most tedious of any hitherto: but, to be at Home next Friday!

July 10. The first object that my eyes rested on this morning on awaking was the rugged outline of the Spanish coast. It was rather misty; but in an hour's time the snowy peaks of the Sierra Nevada came out clearly and very noble they looked. We passed Malaga, nestling among the hills near the shore, and anchored in the Bay of Gibraltar about 5 p.m. The Rock is a most striking object a huge mass, like a [198/199] lion couchant--the town lies at the base--i.e. under the head of the lion. As soon as we anchored, a party of us went ashore. I walked about the streets, till dark. The place is not in itself interesting but it is curious to find a town geographically on Spanish territory, and peopled for the most part by Spaniards, in the possession, and under the influence of, England. The streets all bear English names, but comparatively few shops are kept by our countrymen. Jews abound; and I noticed many Moors from the African side walking in the streets. These were men of gigantic stature, of a white complexion, which surprised me. They wore turbans and yellow slippers. The town is full of soldiers--most of whom, officers as well as men, very respectfully saluted me as I passed. There is a belt of neutral ground outside Gibraltar--on which Spanish sentries are stationed. I was told that in each sentry box a notice is posted, enjoining special vigilance "during the temporary occupation by the British"! We were rather too early for grapes, though on the quay men were offering them for sale in a scarcely ripe state. A huge basket full (basket and all) cost a shilling. I and some other passengers had a rather narrow escape of being left behind at Gibraltar. The gates are closed at 7.55--an arrangement of which I knew nothing. We passed out only about five minutes previously--The consequence of being shut in would have been a detention here for another week. At nine precisely we weighed, and started on the last stage of our long voyage. The Captain expects to get in on Thursday: the thought is almost overwhelming. We shipped several new passengers at Gibraltar, and the saloon tables are somewhat crowded. I find that I am the innocent cause of a good deal of discontent among the passengers for I am still left in sole possession of my cabin, while many are obliged to share theirs with two others. I heard not a little strong language on the subject this evening.

July 11. 7th S. after Trin. We had a fine night, with the wind dead aft. So we are going very well. The morning is lovely. Matins on deck at 10.45. I preached on the Gospel for _ of an hour, the captain having given me a hint to be short. The whole service took one hour. The chanting, which was from the C.D.C.h. books, went very well. Not many joined, but Miss Smith played capitally. We sang two Tate & Brady psalms, which sounded very queer to me. At 2, we rounded Cape S. Vincent, a bold and striking headland. At the extreme point, there is an ancient and partially ruined religious house, plainly visible through a glass. A lighthouse close by, is apparently built out of the materials of the monastery. It was interesting to me to see Portugal again. We had Evensong in the saloon at 7.45 when I preached for 16 minutes. I carefully followed in my mind, what I conceived would be the course of events today at Preston. I calculated that my letter would [199/200] arrive at 7.0 (7.30 at Preston). I fancied that there would be a shout through the house, and much running to and fro, as the tidings were published. Then I thought of the walk to Church and the communication of the news to the Slaters, Goodsons, Robinsons and to the Choir in vestry. (I only wish A.C. would not loom across the field of view--he spoils the prospect.) Then I went with Mary and Herbert to school--and imagined the announcement to Eliza Hunt--and thought that not much work would be done with the children that afternoon. Then Mr. Clarke would come to service in the evening, and he would have to be told.* [Footnote: * None of these events happened, as my letters did not arrive till Thursday morning.] In fact I got into a somewhat fatuous state of mind. A thick fog coming on this evening, the engines were slowed, and the whistle kept going for fear of a collision. There are a great many vessels near us. I hope this slackening of speed will not interfere with our arrival at Southampton on Thursday. The purser says it will be Thursday morning, and talks of clearing the ship of passengers by noon. In that case I should get home that night. But this seems too much to hope for. Madame Bishop, this evening, sang one or two things, e.g. "With verdure clad" and "Angels ever bright and fair" in admirable style.

July 12. Monday. At 5 this morning we were 205 miles S.W. of Cape Finisterre and about off Oporto; so I am going over the same ground as in 1853. We shall be in the Bay of Biscay by midnight, where we may expect a shaking. At present the weather is calm but foggy. In the night it was very thick, and the engines were slackened for some hours. At breakfast people were talking of the narrow escape of some fishing boats during the night. One escaped being run down by us, by about three feet. Another was even closer but the crew had jumped overboard and swam to their consort, when they perceived that a collision was imminent. General Hodgson lent me today the last vol. of Thier's Histoire du consulat et de l'Empire, which I read with great interest. The afternoon was fine and clear till about 6, when the fog came on again. When I turned in it was quite cold.

July 13. Tuesday. There was a heavy sea running when I awoke this morning: a sign that we have entered the Bay of Biscay. There is a head wind, and our chance of getting in on Thursday looks rather bad. But it is impossible to grumble. The weather throughout my four voyages--i.e. from Dunedin to Port Phillip, from P. Phillip to Galle--from Galle to Suez and from Alexandria thus far--has been most favourable. I have nothing to complain of, and much indeed to be thankful for. In the evening there was a concert in the saloon. Madame Bishop sang several things extremely well--I thought it very obliging of her to consent to accompany herself on the Captain's harmonium--a very poor instrument. She, and the Captain, and I, sang "Ti prego" [200/201] (Churchmann) together, I had to take the Alto (faute de mieux) and very hard work it was. Towards night the sea went down a little. It was quite cold all day.

July 14. A lovely morning and not nearly so much sea. We are going nine knots yesterday we hardly exceeded seven. I can think of nothing but the prospect of Home. There is just a chance of our getting in tomorrow night. I wrote some letters to New Zealand today, which I shall post at Southampton. It became quite calm before night. The cold is still noticeable.

July 15. A glorious day. The sea is quite smooth and it is warmer. At 3.30 we got our first view of dear old England--viz. Portland Bill. We got through the Needles by daylight about 8 p.m. Very pretty was the scene on both sides, the Village of Yarmouth, Alum Bay, etc looked lovely--And the smell of newly mown hay was quite strong at one point. As we passed up the Southampton water it became quite dark. There was a fete of some kind going on at Netley. The Abbey was lighted up, and rockets were ascending in rapid succession. We got nearly up to the Dock Gates by 11, and then anchored. The ship took the ground more than once in the Southampton Water--the tide being low. It was singular that this should occur at both the beginning and ending of my homeward voyage. Soon after we anchored a packet of letters came on board. Among them two for me from home--with two pieces of good news. 1. that all was well at home--2 that A.C. had been gone five months!! I turned in as soon as I had read my letters, but the transition from the state of anxiety I was in before the tidings came, to the entire peace and satisfaction that they brought me, was too great and sudden, and I could not sleep a wink, I don't think I closed my eyes for five minutes together, all night. It was very warm, and the mud of the harbour exhaled an extremely unpleasant odour.

July 16. After breakfast I went ashore, and telegraphed my arrival to Grove Ferry. Posted my letters to N. Zealand--They were just in time. Then I went to see about getting my baggage cleared. This took a long time, and cost far too much money. I got off from Southampton by the 12 (noon) train--and caught the 4.38 easily, at Charing Cross. At Grove Ferry, the whole family were assembled to meet me. A happy meeting, indeed, it was! As we passed through Preston Street, the "population" were all out to greet me; and the school children, drawn up outside the school, had nosegays of flowers to present--And so I got safe Home again after my eight months (to a day) wandering.

Laus Deo! pro onmibus beneficiis
Ejus, in me, tam indignum,

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