’So it goes on, and still I am calm and happy and very well; and I think I am in my place and hope to be made of some use some day.  I like the natives in this school very much.  The regular wild untamed fellow is not so pleasant at first—­dirty, unclothed, always smoking, a mass of blankets, his wigwam sort of place filthy; his food ditto; but then he is probably intelligent, hospitable, and not insensible to the advantage of hearing about religion.  It only wants a little practice to overcome one’s English feelings about dress, civilisation, etc., and that will soon come.

’But here the men are nice fellows, and the women and girls make capital servants; and so whereas many of the clergy and gentry do not keep a servant (wages being enormous), and ladies like your sisters and mine do the whole work of the housemaid, nursery-maid, and cook (which I have seen and chatted about with them), I, on the contrary, by Miss Maria (a wondrous curly-headed, black-eyed Maori damsel, arrayed in a “smock,” weiter nichts), have my room swept, bed made, tub—­yes, even in New Zealand—­daily filled and emptied, and indeed all the establishment will do anything for me.  I did not care about it, as I did all for myself aboard ship; but still I take it with a very good grace.

’In about six weeks I expect we shall sail all round the English settlement of New Zealand, and go to Chatham Island.  This will occupy about three months, and the voyage will be about 4,000 miles.  Then we start at once, upon our return, for four months in the Bush, among the native villages, on foot.  Then, once again taking ship, away for Melanesia.  So that, once off, I shall be roving about for nearly a year, and shall, if all goes well, begin the really missionary life.

’It is late, and the post goes to morrow.  Good-bye, my dear Arthur; write when you can.

’Ever your affectionate

‘J.  C. Patteson.’

’August 27.—­I have just been interrupted by Mrs. Kissling, who came to ask me to baptize privately the young son of poor Eota, the native deacon, and his wife Terena.  Poor fellow!  This child was born two or three days after he left this place for Taranaki with the Bishop, so he has not seen his son as yet.  He has one boy about four, and has lost three or four others; and now this little one, about three weeks old, seems to be dying.  I was almost glad that the first time I baptized a native child, using the native language, should be on Fan’s birthday.  It was striking to see the unaffected sympathy of the natives here.  The poor mother came with the child in her arms to the large room.  A table with a white cloth in the centre, and nearly the whole establishment assembled.  I doubt if you would have seen in England grown-up men and women more thoroughly in earnest.  It was the most comforting private baptism I ever witnessed.