’He was really never so happy as among his boys or his books.  He had no liking for general society, though his natural courteousness made him shrink from seeming ungracious.  He did thoroughly enjoy a real talk with one or two friends at a time, but even this he denied himself.’

Fanny Patteson had spent several days at Hursley in the course of the winter, and the Vicar and Mrs. Keble had greatly delighted in hearing her brother’s letters.  The following letter from Mr. Keble was written, as will be perceived, immediately after hearing the account of the baptism of the dying child at Mota:—­

’Hursley, February 19, 1862.

’My dear Bishop Patteson,—­I seat myself down on a low chair between the pictures of your uncle and your Metropolitan, and that by command of your sister, who is on a footstool in the corner opposite, I to send two words, she 200, or, for aught I know, 2,000, to greet you on the other side of the world.  We have the more right, as your kind sisters have kept us well up to your Missionary doings from time to time, and we seem to be very often with you on board or in your islands (I say we, for my dear wife is more than half of me, as you may well suppose, in such sympathies), and it seems to me that, perhaps, in the present state of your island or sea-work you may have more time than by-and-by for thinking of one and another; anyhow we trust that that may happen which we ask for every evening—­that we may be vouchsafed a part in the holy prayers which have been that day offered to the Throne of Grace, in Melanesia or elsewhere.  I don’t know whether I am right, but I fancy you at times something between a Hermit and a Missionary.  God grant you a double blessing! and as you are a Bishop besides, you will breathe us a blessing in return for this, such as it is.  Fanny’s visit has been, as you know it would be, most charming and genial to us old folks (not that my wife ought to be so spoken of), and I shall always think it so kind of her to have spared us the time when she had so much to do and so short a time to do it in; but she seems like one going about with a bag of what Bishop Selwyn calls “hope-seed,” and sowing it in everyplace; yet when one comes to look close at it, it all consists of memories, chiefly you know of whom.  I only wish I could rightly and truly treasure up all she has kindly told us of your dear Father; but it must be a special grace to remember and really understand such things.  It will be a most peculiar satisfaction, now that we have had her with us in this way, to think of you all three together, should God’s Providence allow the meeting of which we understand there is a hope.  The last thing she has told us of is the baptism on St. Barnabas’ Day—­“the first fruits of Mota unto Christ.”  What a thought—­what a subject for prayer and thanksgiving!  God grant it may prove to you more than we can ask or think.

’Ever yours, my dear Bishop,