All these long letters and more, which were either in the same tone, or too domestic to be published, prove the leisure caused by having an unusually small collection of pupils, and happily all in fair health; but with Christmas came a new idea, or rather an old one renewed.  Instead of only going to Norfolk Island, on sufferance from the Pitcairn Committee, and by commission from the Bishop of Tasmania, a regular request was made, by Sir John Young, the Governor of Australia, that the Pitcairners might be taken under his supervision, so that, as far as Government was concerned, the opposition was withdrawn which had hindered his original establishment there, though still Curtis Island remained in the ascendency in the schemes of this summer.  The ensuing is a reply to Sir John Coleridge’s letter, written after hearing of the attack at Santa Cruz:—­

’Kohimarama:  March 3, 1865.

’My dearest Uncle,—­Many many thanks for your letter, so full of comfort and advice.  I need not tell you that the last budget of letters revived again most vividly not only the actual scene at Santa Cruz, but all the searchings of heart that followed it.  I believe that we are all agreed on the main point.  Enough ground has been opened for the present.  Codrington was right in saying that the object of late has been to fill up gaps.  But some of the most hazardous places to visit lie nearest to the south, e.g. some of the New Hebrides, &c., south of the Banks Islands.  My notion is, that I ought to be content even to pass by (alas!) some places where I had some hold when I had reason to feel great distrust of the generally kind intentions of the people (that is a dark sentence, but you know my meaning).  In short, there are very few places where I can feel, humanly speaking, secure against this kind of thing.  It is always in the power of even one mischievous fellow to do mischief.  And if the feeling of the majority might be in my favour, yet there being no way of expressing public opinion, no one cares to take an active part in preventing mischief.  It is not worth his while to get into a squabble and risk his own life.

’But I shall be (D.V.) very cautious.  I dare say I was becoming presumptuous:  one among the many faults that are so discernible.  It is, dear Uncle, hard to see a wild heathen party on the beach, and not try to get at them.  It seems so sad to leave them.  But I know that I ought to be prudent, even for my own sake (for I quite suppose that, humanly speaking, my life is of consequence for a few years more), and I can hardly bear the thought of bringing the boat’s crew, dear good volunteers, into danger.  Young Atkin, the only son of my neighbour, behaved admirably at Santa Cruz, and is very staunch.  But his parents have but him and one daughter, and I am bound to be careful indeed.  But don’t think me careless, if we get into another scrape.  There is scarcely one island where I can fully depend upon immunity from all risk.  There was no need to talk so much about it all before.