’"He that hateth his brother is a murderer:  “not the outward act, but the inward motive justifies or condemns the man.  Every day convinces me more and more of the need of a different mode of teaching than that usually adopted for imperfectly taught people.  How many of your (ordinary) parishioners even understand the simple meaning of the Prayer-book, nay, of their well-known (as they think) Gospel miracles and parables?  Who teaches in ordinary parishes the Christian use of the Psalms?  Who puts simply before peasant and stone-cutter the Jew and his religion, and what he and it were intended to be, and the real error and sin and failure?—­the true nature of prophecy, the progressive teaching of the Bible, never in any age compromising truth, but never ignoring the state, so often the unreceptive state, of those to whom the truth must therefore be presented partially, and in a manner adapted to rude and unspiritual natures?  What an amount of preparatory teaching is needed!  What labour must be spent in struggling to bring forth things new and old, and present things simply before the indolent, unthinking, vacant mind!  How much need there is of a more special training of the Clergy even now!  Many men are striving nobly to do all this.  But think of the rubbish that most of us chuck lazily out of our minds twice a week without method or order.  It is such downright hard work to teach well.  Oh! how weary it makes me to try.  I feel as if I were at once aware of what should be attempted, and yet quite unable to do it!

’St. Michael’s Day.—­[After an affectionate review of most of his relations at home.]—­When the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn pressed me a good deal to go with them to England, it obliged me a little to analyse my feelings.  You won’t suspect me of any want of longing to see you, when I say that it never was a doubtful matter to me for five minutes.  I saw nothing to make me wish to go to England in comparison with the crowd of reasons for not doing so.  They, good people, thought it would be rest and refreshment to me.  Little they know how a man so unlike them takes his rest!  I am getting it here, hundreds of miles out of reach of any white man or woman, free from what is to me the bother of society.  I am not defending myself; but it is true that to me it is a bore, the very opposite of rest, to be in society.  I like a good talk with Sir William Martin above anything, but I declare that even that is dearly purchased by the other accompaniments of society.

’And I could not spend a quiet month with you at Weston.  I should have people calling, the greatest of all nuisances, except that of having to go out to dinner.  I should have to preach, and perhaps to go to meetings, all in the way of my business, but not tending to promote rest.

’Seriously, I am very well now; looking, I am sure, and feeling stronger and stouter than I was in New Zealand in the winter.  So don’t fret yourself about me, and don’t think that I shouldn’t dearly love to chat awhile with you.  What an idle, lazy letter.  You see I am taking my rest with you, writing without effort.’