’But I think, though I have not thought enough yet, that in the diocese of Norfolk Island, and in the islands, the running stream of living water and the Catechumens “going down” into it is the right mode of administering the holy sacrament.  The Lectern and the small Prayer-desk are of sandal-wood from Erromango.

’It will be far more like a Church than anything the Pitcairners have ever seen.  Perhaps next Christmas—­but much may take place before then—­I may ordain Palmer Priest, Atkin and Brooke Deacons, and there may be a goodly attendance of Melanesian communicants and candidates for baptism.  If so, what a day of hope to look forward to!  And then I think I see the day of dear George Sarawia’s Ordination drawing nigh, if God grant him health and perseverance.  He is, indeed, and so are others, younger than he, all that I could desire.

’So, my dear Cousin, see what blessings I have, how small our trials are.  They may yet come, but it is now just twelve years, exactly twelve years on Monday, since I saw my Father’s and Sisters’ faces, and how little have those years been marked with sorrows.  My lot is cast in a good land indeed.  I read and hear of others, such as that noble Central African band, and I wonder how men can go through it all.  It comes to me as from a distance, not as to one who has experienced such things.  We know nothing of war, or famine, or deadly fever; and we seem now to have a settled plan of work, one of the greatest comforts of all; but while I write thus brightly I don’t forget that a little thing (humanly speaking) may cause great reverses, delays, and failures.

’I am very glad you understand my unwillingness to write, and still more to print over much about our proceedings.  I do speak pretty freely in New Zealand and Australia, from whence I profess and mean to draw our supplies.

’Accurate information is all very well, but to convey an idea of our life and work is quite beyond my powers.  Still, everything that helps the ordinary men and women of England to look out into the world a bit, and see that the Gospel is a power of God, is good.

’And now, good-bye, my dear Cousin.  May God bless and keep you.

’Your affectionate Cousin,

‘J.  C. Patteson.’

On Lady Day the Bishop wrote to his sisters:—­

’This day, twelve years ago, I saw your faces for the last time; and so I told Mary Atkin, my good young friend’s only sister, as we stood on the beach just now, watching the ‘Southern Cross’ carrying away her only brother and some forty other people to Norfolk Island.

The first detachment is therefore gone; I hope that we, the rest, will follow in about sixteen or eighteen days.  I think back over these twelve years.  On the whole, how smoothly and easily they have passed with me!  Less of sorrow and anxiety than was crowded into one short year of Bishop Mackenzie’s life.  I have been reading Mr. Rowley’s book on the University Mission to Central Africa, and am glad to have read it.  They were indeed fine gallant fellows, full of faith and courage and endurance.