know how we could have got on without him.  He loved to talk of the Bishop.  In his humility he seemed to feel as if any power of usefulness in himself had been gained from him.  It was like him to think of our Auckland poor at this time.  They would so miss the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn.  He prayed me to draw £50 a year for the next year or two, to be spent in any way I should think best.  And he put it as a gift from his dear Father, who would have wished that money of his invested here should be used in part for the good of the townspeople.  This did not include his subscriptions to the Orphan Home and other charities.’

To make his very liberal gifts in time of need in the name of his Father, was his favourite custom; as his former fellow-labourer, the Rev. B. T. Dudley, found when a case of distress in his own parish in the Canterbury Settlement called forth this ready assistance.

Perhaps the young Church of New Zealand has never known so memorable or so sorrowful a day as that which took from her her first Bishop:  a day truly to be likened to that when the Ephesians parted with their Apostle at Miletus.  The history of this parting Bishop Patteson had himself to read on Saturday, October 17, the twenty-seventh anniversary of Bishop Selwyn’s Consecration.  It was at the Celebration preceding the last meeting of the Synod, when Collect, Epistle, and Gospel were taken from the Order for the Consecration of Bishops; and as the latter says,—­’He has always told me to officiate with him, and I had, by his desire, to read Acts xx. for the Epistle.  I did read it without a break-down, but it was hard work.’  Then followed the Sunday, before described by Lady Martin; and on Tuesday the 20th, that service in St. Mary’s—­the parting feast:—­

‘Then,’ writes the younger Bishop, ’the crowded streets and wharf, for all business was suspended, public offices and shops shut, no power of moving about the wharf, horses taken from the carriage provided for the occasion, as a mixed crowd of English and Maoris drew them to the wharf.  Then choking words and stifled efforts to say, “God bless you,” and so we parted!

’It is the end of a long chapter.  I feel as if “my master was taken from my head.”

’Ah! well, they are gone, and we will try to do what we can.

‘I feel rather no-how, and can’t yet settle down to anything!’

But to the other sister on the same day comes an exhortation not to be alarmed if friends report him as ‘not up to the mark.’  How could it be otherwise at such a time?  For truly it was the last great shock his affections sustained.  In itself, it might not be all that the quitting home and family had been; but not only was there the difference between going and being left behind, but youth, with its spirit of enterprise and compensation, was past, and he was in a state to feel the pain of the separation almost more intensely than when he had walked from the door at Feniton, and gathered his last primrose at his mother’s grave.  Before leaving Auckland, the Bishop married the Rev. John Palmer to Miss Ashwell; and while they remained for a short time in New Zealand, he returned for the Ember Week.