With the Governor, Sir George Bowen, an old Oxford friend, Bishop Patteson spent several days, and submitted to him a memorial to Government, on the subject, both at home and in Queensland, stating the regulations, as above expressed.

The ‘Rosario,’ Captain Palmer, had actually captured the ‘Daphne,’ a vessel engaged in capturing natives, and brought her into Sydney, where the master was tried; but though there was no doubt of the outrage, it was not possible to obtain a conviction; and a Fiji planter whom the Bishop met in Auckland told him that the seizure of the ‘Daphne’ would merely lead to the exclusion of the better class of men from the trade, and that it would not stop the demand for native labourers.  It would always pay to ‘run’ cargoes of natives into the many islets of Fiji; and they would be smuggled into the plantations.  And there the government was almost necessarily by the whip.  ‘I can’t talk to them,’ said the planter; ’I can only point to what they are to do; and if they are lazy, I whip them.’

It was no wonder that Mr. Dudley thought the Bishop depressed; and, moreover, he over-exerted himself, walking a mile and a half one day, and preaching in the little Church of St. Sepulchre’s.  He longed to return to St. Barnabas, but was in no state to rough it in a common little sailing vessel, so he waited on.  ‘I am very lazy,’ he says:  ’I can’t do much work.  Sir William and I read Hebrew, and discuss many questions in which his opinion is most valuable.  I have business letters to write, e.g., about the deportation of islanders and about a clergyman whom the Melbourne people are helping to go to Fiji....  This is perhaps a good trial for me, to be sitting lazily here and thinking of others at work!’

This was written about the middle of July, when the convalescent had regained much more strength, and could walk into town, or stand to read and write according to his favourite custom, as well as thoroughly enjoy conversations with his hosts at Taurarua.

’I never saw (observes Lady Martin) a larger charity united to a more living faith.  He knew in Whom he believed; and this unclouded confidence seemed to enable him to be gentle and discriminating in his judgments on those whose minds are clouded with doubt.

’It was pleasant to see how at this time his mind went back to the interests which he had laid aside for years.  He liked to hear bits of Handel, and other old masters, and would go back to recollections of foreign travels and of his enthusiasm for music and art as freshly and brightly as he had done in the first days of our acquaintance.  But this was only in the “gloaming” or late in the evening when he was resting in his easy chair.