Then while the ‘Southern Cross,’ with Mr. Tilly and Mr. Atkin, went on to land the Solomon Island scholars, the work at Mota was resumed in full force.  It seems well worth while to dwell on the successive steps in the conversion of this place, and the following letter shows the state of things in the season of 1865:—­

’Mota:  July 4, 1865.

’My dearest Sisters and Brother,—­I must write a joint letter for all, with little notes if I have anything more special for anyone of you.  I wish you could see this place.  The old hut is queer enough certainly, quite open on one side, and nearly so on another, but it is weather-tight in the middle, with forms to sit on and a table or two like a kitchen table, on which I read and write by day, and sleep by night.  Last night we killed five lizards; they get on the roof and drop down and bite pretty severely, so seeing these running all about, we made a raid upon them, poor things.  The great banyan tree is as grand as ever, a magnificent tree, a forest in itself, and the view of the sea under its great branches, and of the islands of Matlavo and Valua, is beautiful.

’At daylight I turn off my table and dress, not elaborately—­a flannel shirt, old trousers and shoes; then a yam or two is roasted on the embers, and the coffee made, and (fancy the luxury here in Mota!) delicious goat’s milk with it.  Then the morning passes in reading, writing, and somewhat desultory talking with people, but you can’t expect punctuality and great attention.  Then at one, a bit of biscuit and cheese (as long as the latter lasts).  Mr. Palmer made some bread yesterday.  Then generally a walk to meet people at different villages, and talk to them, trying to get them to ask me questions, and I try to question them.  Then at 6 P.M., a tea-ation, viz., yam and coffee, and perhaps a crab or two, or a bit of bacon, or some good thing or other.  But I forgot! this morning we ate a bit of our first full-grown and fully ripe Mota pine-apple (I brought some two years ago) as large and fine as any specimens I remember in hot-houses.  If you mention all these luxuries, we shall have no more subscriptions, but you may add that there is as yet no other pine-apple, though our oranges, lemons, citrons, guavas, &c., are coming on.  Anyone living here permanently might make a beautiful place indeed, but it becomes sadly overgrown in our absence, and many things we plant are destroyed by pigs, &c.

’Then after tea—­a large party always witnessing that ceremony—­there is an hour or so spent in speaking again to the people, and then I read a little with Wadrokala and Carry.  Then Mr. Palmer and I read a chapter of Vaughan on the Revelation, then prayers, and so to bed.  It seems as if little was done—­certain talks with people, sometimes many, sometimes few; yet, on the whole, I hope an increased acquaintance with our teaching.  You can well understand that the consciousness of sin and the need of a Redeemer may be talked about,