’The four youngest, sixteen to eighteen, sleep in my room.  One is now on my bed, wrapped up in a great opossum rug, with cold and slight fever; last night his pulse was high, to-day he is better.  I have to watch over them like a cat.  Think of living till now in a constant temperature of 84°, and being suddenly brought to 56°.  New Zealand is too cold for them, and the College is a cold place, wind howling round it now.

’Norfolk Island is the place, and the Pitcairners themselves are most co-operative and hearty; I trust that in another year I may be there.

’Thank you for all your kind wishes on my birthday.  I ought to wish to live many years, perhaps, to try and be of use; especially as I am so unfit to go now, or rather I ought not to wish at all.  Sometimes I feel almost fainthearted, which is cowardly and forgetful of our calling “to fight manfully under Christ’s banner.”  Ah! my Bishop is indeed a warrior of the Cross.  I can’t bear the things Sophy said in one of her letters about my having given up.

It seems mock humility to write it; but, dear Uncle, if I am conscious of a life so utterly unlike what all you dear ones fancy it to be, what must it be in the sight of God and His holy angels?  What advantages I have always had, and have now! and not a day goes by and I can say I have done my duty.  Good-bye, dear dear Uncle.

’Always your affectionate and grateful nephew,

’J.  C. Patteson.

‘Love to dear Aunt.’

Almost the first experience after settling in at St. John’s College was a sharp attack of fever that fell on Kerearua, one of the Bauro lads.  Such illnesses, it seemed, were frequent at home and generally fatal.  His companion Hirika remarked, ’Kerearua like this in Bauro ah! in a few days he would die; by-and-by we go back to Bauro.’  The sick boys were always lodged in Coley’s own room to be more quiet and thoroughly nursed.  Fastidiousness had been so entirely crushed that he really seemed to take pleasure in the arrangement, speaking with enthusiasm of the patient’s obedience and gratitude, and adding, ’He looks quite nice in one of my night-shirts with my plaid counterpane, and the plaid Joan gave me over it, a blanket next to him.’

The Melanesians readily fell into the regular habits of short school, work out of doors, meals in hall and bed-time, and they were allowed a good deal of the free use of their limbs, needful to keep them happy and healthy.  Now and then they would be taken into Auckland, as a great treat, to see the soldiers on parade, and of course the mere living with civilization was an immense education to them, besides the direct instruction they received.

The languages of Nengone and Bauro were becoming sufficiently familiar to Mr. Patteson to enable him to understand much of what they said to him.  He writes to Miss Neill (October 17):—­