Leaves from the life of a colonial parson

Fitzgerald, Otho, Simpson & Williams, Christchurch, N.Z., 1943

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The original publication details are as follows:

Title: Leaves from the life of a colonial parson.

Author: Fitzgerald, Otho

Published: Simpson & Williams, Christchurch, N.Z., 1943

Leaves from the Life of a COLONIAL PARSON

Printed by Simpson & Williams Ltd.. Christchurch 1943

Foreword

It may perhaps be asked by some people why I have written this little book as I am a very ordinary individual and have nothing of great importance to record.

I have mentioned some of the incidents recorded here to my friends and they have suggested to me on different occasions that these occurences would be interesting to read if I would classify them and have them printed in book form.

As I am too old to do very much work and owing to impaired health I am often confined to the house, I not only have time to spare but a certain amount of pleasure in looking back into the past. If I have been rather plain spoken on occasions my excuse is that I am only recording the truth and speaking of things that really happened and that I have not made any attempt to spare myself.

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Leaves from the Life of a Colonial Parson

CHAPTER I.

I have been told that old age brings with it a vivid memory of the past rather than the present, and often in the night when I am unable to sleep I find myself dwelling more upon the days of my childhood rather than upon events of the immediate present.

The town in which I was brought up was not in those far off days a large one, and the people who lived there were rather like one big family. All were kind and friendly and only too willing to help each other in any way possible.

The place has now grown into a large city and as I no longer dwell there I have to a very large extent lost touch with the present residents. In the old days, passing down the street one knew practically everyone one met but it is very different today. Occasionally I have to visit this place but I pass down the street as a comparative stranger. There is something very wonderful about the progress of the Dominion but there is also something very sad. I think there is nothing truer than the statement that there is no greater loneliness than that which is associated with a crowd of strangers.

There is something grand and majestic connected with the solitude of nature but I will never forget my first visit to London as a complete stranger. To be jostled hither and thither surrounded by a vast multitude of hurrying and rushing people and yet not knowing a single soul is depressing beyond description.

Memory is a double-edged tool bringing sadness as well as sweetness to the heart and perhaps the saddest memory is associated with the friends and companions of long ago.

My home as a boy was built on a point overlooking a harbour, one of the most beautiful spots and one of the finest views I have ever seen. As we were a large family it was a fairly large house containing seven-

teen rooms. It stood quite isolated and at the time my father was thought to be quite mad to build a house in such a place. Today some sixty or seventy years later it is one of the most coveted positions in that city, no longer isolated but encompassed by dwellings on all sides. Unfortunately the property is no longer a family possession. The old family residence has been replaced by a majestic monastery and church.

On the sea shore at the foot of the cliffs for many years there were some public swimming baths kept by a very old man and his funny little wife. I believe it was in those baths that General Freyberg, then quite a youth learnt a great part of the swimming which served him so well later on. When I was very young’ this place used to be a place of terror and hatred to me. My older brothers were in the habit of going to these baths every morning early for a dip and they liked to take me with them. When they were ready to enter the water it was the usual thing to pick me up first and throw me in. Of course I was quite safe and was watched very carefully but being so young I did not realise this at the time and was terrified and whenever possible, as the time drew near for bathing, I used to run away and hide in the garden. There was an old Presbyterian Minister who was also passionately fondofhis morning dip and was a regular attendant at the baths. He took a fancy to me and said he would teach me to swim. The only memory I have of his kindness' is a mark on my leg where it was cut by the mussels growing on th e sides of the baths. However the time of misery did not last long as I soon learnt to’ swim and then it was just as hard to keep me awav from the baths as it had been to persuade me to go to them.

Another incident connected with the days of my youth occurred when I was ten years old. The Commander of what one might term the regular forces which went by the name of armed constabulary was a Colonel. It was my birthday and I thought how nice it would be to have a salute fired for the special occasion. So I wrote to the Colonel and informed him of the tact and asked if he could send a member of the force up to ray home with a gun to fire a salute in honour of the event. He quite entered into the solemnity of the occasion and the soldier arrived and

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honoured me with a salute. This just illustrates the difference between the past and present in this city. One of the principal events in the town in those days was a regatta that was held on the anniversary of the founding of the Province. There were no motor cars or other modern conveniences to take people away from the town so the interest was practically universal. There were various races, rowing, canoeing and sailing, but perhaps the most picturesque was a schooner race. Nowadays a visit to a seaport brings before one’s eyes many steamers but very few sailing vessels; but, sixty years ago it was the reverse. It was a beautiful sight to see a number of schooners dotted all over the harbour, with all their sails set, racing against one another.

One year the naval volunteer corps obtained the loan of a three-masted schooner, persuaded a retired sea captain to take charge and entered her for the race. All went well till they reached the point near our house where they sailed their boat too close to the shore and she went aground. I was very young at the time but I will never forget the excitement. The navals were sent ashore and everything was done to lighten the vessel and float her off but there she remained for some weeks. Luckily there were no gales and she grounded on the sand so that apart from loss of time not much harm was done. Every day with other boys I used to swim out to this boat and we were quite disappointed when at last she was refloated.

There was a bay at the foot of our cliffs where the fishermen came when it was blowing a southerly wind to let down their nets. I thought it a very great honour to be allowed to help haul the nets in. Sometimes when there was a good catch I would be given one of the fish. Today in that place there is a grand esplanade and instead of a few scattered houses it is densely populated and even a small section of land is worth a good many thousands of pounds. It is now a beautiful and popular resort but I loved the bay as it was in years long ago with its fishermen, bathing and beach.

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CHAPTER 11.

My education was rather haphazard. I started my school fife at a small “dame school” and my chief recollection is in connection with one of the oldest boys who was very unpopular. At a meeting held after school one day at which he was not present it was decided to punish him. The school set to work and dug a hole in the playground in which they placed a tin bath full of water and then covered it all over. The next day they arranged a race and the competitors were so placed that this boy would have to pass over the trap. I have no recollection of the result or the consequences—only the plot.

There is another incident in connection with my boyhood which always makes me smile when I think of it. My mother was very musical and had a beautiful voice and among other things belonged to a choral society. Although I was very young I was given the honour of escorting her to the practices and also the concerts. For some time the practices were held in the upstair room of a merchant’s warehouse. He was a widower and very much admired one of the ladies who was a member of the society, hence his apparent kindness. I am afraid I was a naughty little boy; while the practice was proceeding upstairs I spent my time downstairs sampling the sweets and biscuits. Sad to relate the lady concerned did not respond to the admiration of the merchant and so we had to leave the room for another where there were no biscuits or sweets. I used to enjoy the concerts very much, especially the supper for the performers. Those who were taking part in the concert used to sit in seats which were placed in tiers one above the other. I would usually sit in the top seat high up at the back and I am very much afraid I spent my time in consuming part of my supper while the singing was going on. It was my special job during the interval to collect all the music that was finished with and pile it up behind the scenes. On one occasion I got a great ovation and encore. I was proceeding with my important task—and it was very important to me—and had got as far as the high seat at the back when I suddenly slipped and started to roll over and over from the top to the bottom and fairly brought down the house.

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As I said before in those days we were like one large family and I was well known so the incident caused a lot of amusement.

For some years I was at a boarding school where there was a great deal of physical exercise and pleasure with a certain amount of mathematics and classics. The school was rather unique, bordering on a harbour but not near any town and surrounded by the most beautiful bush. On Saturdays the boys were sent out into the bush for the day while the school was being cleaned and most of them had their own huts in which they cooked many weird meals. There were no day boys and the boarders came from all over the Dominion. With riding and yachting the boys had a most wonderful time. There was rather a unique custom in the school as it was not uncommon when a boy was to be punished, for him to have to go into the bush and cut the cane or supplejack. It was better to choose a good one at first, as bad judgment only meant additional punishment.

There was a large dining room attached to the school of which the Headmaster was very proud. It was lined with very finely grained unvarnished timber. One of the boys had the temerity to draw a ship on this special pride, and when the boys were asked who had committed this dreadful deed no one would plead guilty. As a way of finding out the culprit the boys were all asked to draw the picture of a ship and the criminal was immediately found out. He seemed to have only one idea in his head as regards sailing boats and drew an exact replica of the boat on the wall. After dire punishment he was found behind the woodshed in a state of despair.

I think I said once before that there was much bush all round the school—some of it very fine, containing’ many different kinds of birds which are not seen so much now in the Dominion. Also some of the trees had holes in which the bees built hives and produced honey. Sometimes we would raid the hives and take all the honey. Although as a boy one did not realise it, it was rather cruel in one sense. Before the honey could be captured it was necessary to stupify the bees with sulphur which killed them. However, I remember on one occasion we procured enough honey in the comb to fill a very large tin bath. When the

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boys went up to the dormitory to bed they kept on thinking of this honey till at last they decided to make a raid on it. No sooner decided upon than put into execution and accomplished without being caught. But one very bright boy found he could not eat all that he had stolen and thought it would be very nice to finish it in the morning, so he put it under his pillow. You can imagine what that pillow was like when he woke up and the result was that we were all found out and severely punished.

Many years later when I visited the old school which had ceased to exist I showed the old Frenchman who had purchased the property, a fence on which many of the boys who had attended the school had carved their names. One was afterwards a General killed in France, another a noted Admiral, another a Peer, and one other a leading doctor in the old country. The school never had a large attendance but it trained a number of men who afterwards made a great contribution to the national life of the Empire.

There was a leading lawyer in this town, who admired my eldest sister very much, and as a means of propitiation was in the habit of giving me half a crown every time he met me. I was naturally very pleased and endeavoured to make these meetings as frequent as possible. Unfortunately she became engaged to a prominent merchant so my means of revenue came to an end.

This merchant spent most of his evenings at our home which was situated on a point overlooking the harbour. Among other things he was the owner of a few small steamers and one of these steamers often arrived back in port about nine in the evening. The captain of this boat knew quite well where his employer would be. He happened to be a bit of a wag so when the steamer got close to the point on which our house stood he always made a point of sounding a loud blast on the steamer’s whistle.

There were a large number of boys in our family, and in the town there was a famous pastrycook whose goods were very much sought after. One day our future brother-in-law suggested that we should pay a visit to this pastrycook and consume as much as we could possibly eat, at his expense. We were delighted to be given this opportunity of showing our gastro-

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nomic ability, and made up our minds to enter into the undertaking thoroughly. A meeting was called, a leader appointed and it was arranged what each one was allowed to eat. Buns and all such things as would have quickly satisfied our appetite was taboo and a careful plan was carried out. I was one of the younger children and have not much recollection of what it all cost, but I know we all did full justice to the undertaking.

My parents found that the feeding of a large family was not only expensive but often led to waste and extravagance. In order to remedy this to a certain extent, they decided to ration certain commodities such as butter, sugar, etc., to each member. Some of us found that we had more than we could use during the week and others found that they did not possess enough. One of my brothers sold his surplus which another was only too willing to purchase. This was a good indication of each character which followed them through life.

CHAPTER 111

I have already mentioned that my brother-in-law owned two small steamers; these boats spent their time in journeying between Napier and Lyttelton. They visited all the large sheep stations bordering on the coast bringing them provisions and taking their wool and produce to the shipping centre en route for England. All the work of landing the goods at the various stations had to be done by means of surf boats. There were no wharves and in those far off days road transit was not even thought of. This work of landing on the beach was often dangerous and the boats needed careful handling; also it was no uncommon thing to get a good drenching while engaged on this work. Even after the boat reached the shore safely men had to stand in the water and hold it steady. There was nearly always a heavy surf or swell running which would have soon battered the boat to pieces if it had been left to itself.

I spent most of one of my holidays on one or other of these boats. I used to get very sea-sick and vow that I would never venture again. By the time the next holidays came along I had forgotten all about the sea-sickness and was only too keen to make another venture. I got to know all the stations up and down the coast, had many exciting experiences, especially in the surf boats, and was sometimes even allowed to steer the steamer.

The most monotonous part of these journeys was when it was too rough for the boats to work the steamer and we were anchored off the shore rolling and pitching about sometimes for two days.

One of these boats is lying wrecked on the beach near Kaikoura and the other has disappeared altogether.

On one occasion when I was twelve years old I landed at Kaikoura with two other lads, and we walked through to Christchurch. We carried our food and tent with us and camped at various places by the way. It took us a little over five days to accomplish the journey. On the last day we walked from the bed of of the Waipara river into Christchurch which was quite a good undertaking for a lad of twelve. It is sixty years since I accomplished that journey and yet

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the memory is so vivid that it might be something that happened only a few days ago.

About this time I heard that a murder had been committed in the Chatham Islands and that the Government steamer was going over to the Islands to bring the guilty party, witnesses, etc., to New Zealand. As my Godfather happened to be Minister of Marine at that time I thought it a good opportunity to visit the Chathams. The steamer left on Chrismas Eve; I did not feel inclined to eat any Christmas dinner the next day. However, I spent a very pleasant week riding about all over the main Island, being treated very kindly by everyone.

I often tell people that when I was quite a small boy I went to get a murderer from the Chathams, and they generally look astonished.

On one occasion I was informed that on a certain Saturday afternoon the Government were sending a launch down the harbour to test dynamite for the first time. Off I rushed to my Godfather and obtained permission to go out with those who were experimenting. A stick of dynamite would be cast overboard, away the launch would rush, a little later an explosion and cascade of water followed. Later still when the launch returned to the spot, the surface of the sea was covered with fish.

Such was my boyhood; some people say that they would not care to live their life all over again, but I would love it all, it was so full of joy.

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CHAPTER IV.

When I left school it was not with any thought or idea of ever becoming a parson,—indeed for many years it was the one thing farthest from my thoughts. I had a brother in practically the same position, who passed all his examinations in order to practise as a barrister and solicitor, and yet eventually found himself in the ministry of the Church.

I had always been very much attracted by the braid and decoration of a uniform, and so I applied and obtained the position of assistant purser on a ship trading in the Dominion. However, the admiration I pictured myself as evoking (?) was shortlived, as before I could obtain the uniform with which I hoped to captivate the hearts of the fairer sex, I found that my eldest brother had in the meantime cancelled my application. After a family consultation it was decided that it would be a very good thing for me to gain a certain amount of experience—which by the way was not to be paid for—in the office of the said brother, who was a lawyer. Having no ambition to follow this profession, I am afraid I did not learn very much. The only impression which seems to have lingered in my mind is the remembrance of a letter that I was instructed to write to a man who owed a sum of money. It told him in very plain language that if he did not pay the debt forthwith he would be put in prison. It was not so much the letter as the fuss it caused, because it was not couched in legal phraseology, which seems to have survived the many happenings of the years that have passed since the incident. After a time I got very tired, not only of pretending to study law, but perhaps much more of working for nothing, so I decided to make a change.

I happened to have relations who were merchants, and I thought what a splendid idea it would be to eventually blossom out as a merchant and leading citizen of the town in which I lived. So off I went to interview one of these great men, and was at once promised a position in a branch of his business in a smaller town. But once again it was a case of “no pay, but only experience.” And thus as I had to live away from home, meant extra expense to my father for my board and lodging.

I thoroughly enjoyed the work and would have

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been quite willing to continue where I was, if I had seen any prospect of advancement. But as time went on and there was no mention of a salary, and I was growing up, I thought I must make some kind of a move to obtain a lucrative position.

Each day as I went to business I was in the habit of passing the Bank; so one day I made up my mind that I would go in and interview the manager. I was received very courteously, but was promptly told that there was no room for me there.

As I did not see any prospect of getting more than experience gratis in the merchant’s office, and it seemed very unfair to go on being a drain on my father’s income, I made up my mind that I would return home and try and get some work in the place in which I lived.

I happened to know the general manager of the Bank where I was told I was not wanted, and so one day I went in to see him and said, “Mr So and So, I want work in your Bank” and he replied, “Right, go up to ,” the very place where I was told there was no room for me. I often wonder what the manager of that branch must have thought when I turned up like a bad penny after being told that I was not wanted. However, we must have got on very well together, because some years later, when I was being transferred to another branch, the jeweller came over to the Bank and said, “I want to measure your finger, as there is a certain young lady who wants to present you with a ring.” You can well picture the amusement there was among the various clerks over this undertaking, also my embarrassment. Much was my astonishment later—on the day I was leaving—when the manager called me into his room and presented me with a beautiful gold ring as a token of his esteem and a personal gift from himself.

Among other duties connected with my work in the Bank was looking after the exchange. In those days before there was any thought of a Reserve Bank controlling the note issue for the Dominion, each Bank had its own notes which circulated everywhere. Naturally the customers of the various banks, when they paid in money to their personal account, often included a number of these notes. Each day the notes were sorted out by each bank and returned to the bank to which

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they belonged. This was called the Exchange. Well, one day when I started out on my daily visit to the other banks with their notes, I was rather careless. As I was walking along, suddenly the middle of the bundle dropped in the street and the notes began to blow away in every direction. The people who saw the disaster were very kind and rushed after the notes, helping me to gather them together again. Unfortunately there was one person present who evidently had sticky fingers and one note must have stuck to them because when I counted the notes I was exactly £5 short—which of course I had to pay. However, I was very lucky on the whole, as I might have lost a good deal more and it really showed how honest most people are. It was a lesson to me and 1 was never caught napping again.

Curiously enough at that time I had just managed to save £5 in the Post Office Savings Bank. I was just debating as to whether I should take it out and go to the races and try to add to my credit balance. However, this accident not only put an end to my savings of many years but also stopped any idea of attending the race meeting.

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CHAPTER V.

In this town there was a very fine river on which I rowed, raced and sailed boats. Among other things, I possessed a Rob Roy canoe about twelve feet long, and one day I did a very foolish thing (or fool-hardy according to the daily paper). I started off early in the morning, paddled down the river and eventually reached the bar where the waves were rolling in one after the other. Instead of turning back as any sensible person would have done, I continued out to sea, drank a glass of water off a steamer which was waiting for a full tide in order to cross the bar, and then paddled back again. It was only through Providence that I was not capsized and drowned, for my boat was so small that if I had been caught in an awkward position by one of the large waves nothing could have saved me.

The river had a very fine bridge which divided in order to allow vessels to move up and down the river. One day, when I was sailing down the river in a large boat with a fair wind, I did not realise that the tide was high and therefore there was not so much space between the water and the bridge.

As I was running before the wind the boat was moving rather quickly through the water. When I reached the bridge I was horrified to see the top of the mast catch in the bridge while at the same time the boat drifting with tide and wind down the river. As the mast was caught the boat naturally could not get away and began gradually to heel over. Luckily (in one sense, but rather unluckily in another as it meant a lot of expense) the mast suddenly snapped in half, part of it being left in the bridge and the other half remaining in the boat which then continued on its way down the river. This last part of the disaster accomplished one good thing, namely avoidance of the boat swamping and my own salvation from a good ducking.

A judge of the Native Land Court, while in this place, had invested in a Una or cat-boat in which to sail up and down the river. The distinguishing mark of a Una boat is that the mast is right up in the bow and has just one large sail extending from the bow to the stern; it also has a centre-board. After using and enjoying this boat for some time the judge got a notice

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of transfer and as he could not very well take the boat with him he decided to sell it by means of an art union, the tickets being one pound each. In partnership with another bank clerk I invested one pound in the art union and was lucky enough to win the boat.

There were a good many sailing races held on the river and we decided to enter our boat in the competition. The day of the race turned out rather boisterous with a fairly strong wind blowing straight down the river, and as the tide was coming in there was a somewhat heavy sea. Beating up the river against the wind everything was very satisfactory and the boat behaved very well. Running back before the wind, however, we were not satisfied with the amount of sail she ordinarily carried so we hoisted a large spinnaker on the other side, so she had, as it were, two large wings extending out, one on each side. Owing to the mast being right up the bows and the fact that the boat was running against a fairly heavy sea, the weight was too much. We saw a large wave gradually overwhelm the boat which took a sudden dive and went to the bottom. But seeing what was about to happen we dived overboard, one on each side and swam ashore.

Talking of boats. For a number of years I possessed various Eob Eoy canoes and belonged to a canoe club which existed in those days. This club used to hold a regatta every year and among other races, both paddling and sailing, there was one special race which is well worthy of mention. You had to paddle your canoe for a certain distance, then capsize it and swim for a certain distance, towing your canoe, then get in again and paddle to the winning post. It was very easy to capsize but, unless one knew the trick, it was almost impossible to get in again. If one attempted to get in in the middle of the boat it would probably roll over. The quickest and only certain way was to get in over the stem and wriggle along the deck till you came to your seat. Even then you had to balance very carefully. This race always caused a great deal of amusement. As I had had a good many capsizes while sailing my canoe and as one’s life sometimes depended upon righting and getting into the canoe after a capsize, I became somewhat of an expert in this particular undertaking-.

There is one other thing I always remember about

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this place—it possessed a volunteer fire brigade. There were two small stations each containing a reel which was propelled by men pulling it along with ropes. As I lived with a lot of other young men exactly opposite the station, I made up my mind that I must join, and I am afraid as I was really too young that I misrepresented my age in order to satisfy my ambition. There was tremendous rivalry between the two stations, as to which team would reach the fire first, and many a time I have started that reel alone to be gradually joined by one man after another till at last we would be rushing along through the darkness at a tremendous pace.

The first speech I ever made was at a fire brigade dinner, and the anticipation was worse than a severe illness. I never dared to ask anyone what I really did say.

One of the great events in that town was the visit of the first English Rugby team to come to the Dominion, and I will never forget the feeling of pride that took possession of me when I found that I was a member of the team chosen to play against these great men, and also when the match ended in a draw.

Let me just mention one other event associated with my few years’ residence in this town. On one occasion I was a member of a rowing crew which was chosen to uphold the honour of our town in a regatta to be held at a place about 150 miles away. On the day of the regatta, just when we were starting to paddle up slowly to the starting post, the Dominion’s champion sculler capsized, and we had to rush to the rescue. In the process of rescuing him, our own boat was nearly swamped, and after putting him ashore we had to carry it out and turn it over to get the water out. In the meantime the other boat crews were impatiently waiting for our arrival in order to start the race, so that instead of paddling to the starting point, we had to row hard. What with the exertion of the rescue and the rush to the start, we were so tired that we ended the race a good last. So much for the long journey, the expectation of those who sent us and our own great hopes of winning the race.

Many years have passed since I left that town—and it has grown beyond description—in fact, it is now a city, but there is always a pleasant memory in my mind when I think of the enjoyment and kindness associated with my growth into manhood.

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CHAPTER VI

My transfer in the Bank was back again to my home town, and soon after my return my people decided to take a trip to the Old Country, and they left me and my cousin, who was a few years older, in charge of a very large house with a housekeeper to look after us.

They had no sooner started on their journey than I caught a severe cold, which later developed into double pneumonia. If it had not been for the fact that the woman in charge of us did not know how to put on a mustard poultice, the doctor said I would have probably died. None of us realised how very ill I really was, and so we did not call in medical aid. The woman, however, knew that in such cases it was a good thing to apply a mustard poultice to the part affected, but she hadn’t any idea of the amount of mustard that she ought to use, and in her anxiety to relieve my suffering she applied about three times the proper quantity, with the natural result that my chest was like raw beef, and in future I had to have the poultices put on my sides. The treatment was very drastic, but it probably saved my life. Although I was very ill for some time, yet, being young and healthy, I eventually recovered and became as strong as ever.

This illness, however, marked a turning- point in my life. Up to that time my chief aim had been enjoyment—-athletics and sports of every kind. The long convalescence gave me lots of time to think, and I pictured what a poor figure I would have presented to God with such a small credit. A life although blameless, yet spent in self-gratification. I began to think whether it would not be better to make a change, and instead of living entirely for myself, try and live for others.

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CHAPTER VII.

When I came back to work, after a change of air and scene in order to recuperate, spent in another part of the Dominion, I still had the same idea in my mind, and so I went to a clergyman who had known me since I was a small boy, and talked the matter over with him. He advised me not to be in a hurry, but to remain in the bank for another year and study quietly. Then if at the end of that time I found it was not a sudden impulse “the devil was sick, the devil a saint would be”—then I could resign and set earnestly to work. His advice seemed to be so sensible and practical that I decided to follow it, so I went on quietly with my work and did not say anything about my change of mind and new outlook on life. Of course, people must have noticed a difference, because, although I did not make any parade of my religion, I started attendance at worship, especially the Blessed Sacrament, and asked my vicar to give me some work to do. I studied quietly at home without any guidance or help, so when at the end of the year I went up for my first examination, which I considered very easy, I failed miserably. I then informed my vicar about my new plan of life, and he told me that I had been very foolish not to tell him before, as he could have helped me considerably and made me pass the examination easily.

Just about this time, when I was considering the future, I received a long letter from my brother, who had been ordained in another Dominion, suggesting that I should join him, and be ordained in Australia.

When Bishop Moorhouse became Bishop of Melbourne, he found that the country had developed so rapidly that there were not half enough ordained men to minister to the needs of the community; and so he decided to institute an order of stipendiary Lay readers and preachers as a temporary expedient. They were to be appointed to the charge of districts, and at the same time go through a course of study, and if satisfactory and able to pass certain examinations, they would eventually be ordained. By this means he hoped to overcome the great shortage and give every district proper ministrations. There is no doubt that this scheme was successful to a great extent, for by this means he enlisted the services of a

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number of men who later became men of mark in the ministry of the church.

But everything has its defects, and partly owing to lack of proper supervision and discernment in the choice of those suitable for this work, some men got positions, who by their character and actions did a lot of injury to the church.

When my brother suggested that I should come to Australia, it was with the idea of becoming a stipendiary reader. I thought it a good idea, and so I resigned from the Bank and started off for Australia.

On my arrival I was treated very kindly by the authorities, and after certain tests and examinations, was duly appointed to the charge of a beautiful little health and tourist resort in the mountains. But strange to relate, I never even set eyes on it, because I have rather a humiliating confession to make.

When I reached Melbourne, I found the Church and everything so completely different to what I had been accustomed to in the place from which I had set out, that I became homesick and decided to return back again. So off I went once more, but between Melbourne and Hobart, sitting on the deck of the steamer in beautiful weather, I had plenty of time for thought, and realised how very foolish I would look coming back without having accomplished anything at all. Therefore, when the steamer reached Hobart, I quietly went ashore and started by rail across Tasmania, but when I reached Launceston, I found I only had enough money left to wire to my brother for help. After waiting for three -or four days, the necessary funds arrived. Once again I made my way towards Melbourne. When I reached the journey’s end and reported myself to the Bishop, he was so annoyed at the way in which I had behaved that instead of giving me the beautiful little township for which I was originally chosen, he sent me, as a punishment, to the worst place in the diocese. Since that time I have ministered to many different classes of people all over the world, but I still think of these people as the hardest nuts I have ever had to crack.

When I reached ... I found a middle-aged man still in charge of the district, and we remained together for two or three weeks till he left the district. The vicarage (?) was a very small two-roomed

hut—a bedroom and living room, and as there was only one bed, we had to sleep together.

This man possessed two beautiful black horses, of which he was very proud—and a goat. It was really very amusing to see him each morning milking the goat; because when he had finished he poured half the result into a jug and gave the goat the other half to drink.

When he had service at the other end of the district, he used to drive his beautiful pair of horses along’ at a spanking pace, and they arrived at the other end thoroughly warmed up. He would then begin the service and when it was time for the first hymn, would consider the horses sufficiently cooled down to be fed. So when he had given out the number of the hymn, he would go out in his surplice and give the horses their food. If the hymn happened to come to an end before he had finished feeding them he would call out for the last two verses to be sung again.

In addition to the horses and goat, he also had a very bad temper, and ruled his district with a rod of iron.

There is a story told of a sale of work which was once held in the district. The place chosen for the sale was a wool shed made of slabs of wood with cracks in between the pieces of timber. Mr . . . thought that it would be a good idea to get a lot of silverware and jewellery from a town sixty miles away to sell on commission. When it was time to close the sale for the night, he went to the churchwarden, who was a dear old farmer, and said: “Mr ... I am going home, but as there is all this valuable silverware, you must stay and watch.” I asked the old man what he did, and he replied. “As soon as he was safely away I went home also.”

Mr . . . decided to dispose of his goods, including the black horses, by means of an art union, and to emphasise Ascension Day he arranged to draw the art union on that day. He was still in charge of the district and refused to hold any services, so I went off to the town sixty miles away till it was all over. When he at last left he told me to send any letters to . . . mentioning a place in England. Later there were many letters, mostly bills, but I never heard if his creditors were ever satisfied.

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After a time I got very tired of living in this tworoomed bach, and decided to board at a farm which was at the other end of the district. The only water which most of these farms possessed came from dams which were generally dug in a paddock near the house, and as the animals often used the same water, it was not very satisfactory. Bishop Moorhouse was once asked to pray for rain, and the people were very astonished when he refused. He told them that when they had cleaned their dams and made them in a fit condition to receive the water, he would consider the matter, but not before.

After a time the district had a very bad visitation of influenza, and I drove about all over the country carrying quinine, lemons and whisky. When I got to a place which had been attacked by influenza, I asked what I could do. At one place the people told me that there was a Jersey bull in the stable which wanted a drink. The bull had a ring in his nose to which a rope about a yard long was attached. I had to take the end of this short rope and lead the bull to a dam about one hundred yards away, let it drink and then return to the stable, I will be quite honest and admit that I was in a blue funk. I knew that Jersey bulls were noted for their uncertain temper, and all the time I calculated how quickly I could do a hundred yards if the animal began to play up. However, he behaved like a little gentleman and seemed to realise that I was only trying to help him, and so all ended well. I spent so much time and energy over this epidemic that I became run down and an easy victim to influenza myself, which later developed into pneumonia. The doctor, who was completely overwhelmed with work, had to drive in a gig—it was before the time of motors—over forty miles to see me, and nursing appliances were very primitive, so I gradually got worse. The people got rather desperate and at last telegraphed to my brother in Melbourne that it was very uncertain whether I would recover.

At the time he got the wire he had rather an upset with one of his vestrymen who had resigned. On the Sunday he was so worried about my condition that he broke down during the service, but the vestryman imagined the breakdown was caused by his resignation, and spread such a rumour all over the parish.

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On the Monday my brother left his parish and came up to nurse me with the help of a qualified nurse whom he brought with him. On his arrival he found my condition so bad that he got a clergyman to come from some distance to administer my last communion. However, things turned out better than was expected, and I managed to turn the comer and gradually get quite well. Being quite unfit to resume work for some time, I was sent home to recuperate.

There are two small incidents connected with this illness which I only heard about later which are well worth recording.

In the first stages of my illness, before my brother arrived with a qualified nurse, the vestrymen took turns in watching and nursing. The churchwarden was a dear old saint, and one evening while he was sitting by my bed he noticed that I had thrown all my bed clothes off. The old man started immediately to remedy this state of affairs, but as I was quite delirious I did not realise what he was doing and I brought back my leg and caught him in the chest and sent him flying across the room. lam sure that this was rather an unusual way to treat one’s churchwarden.

Two of the vestrymen had a disagreement as to the best way to deal with my illness on another occasion, and they settled the question in a most unusual way as regards nursing. They went out into the backyard and fought it out, and it ended in one of them giving the other a very bad black eye.

The illness altogether cost me over £lOO, and the diocese said they would pay half the amount if I would remain in charge of the district. My father, however, thought that it would be safer to keep me nearer home, so paid the full amount on the understanding that I would return to the Dominion for good. So I only went back to Australia to wind up my affairs and say goodbye to the people, many of whom I admired and loved very much, and settle down once more at home.

In the next district to that in which I had been working, there was a very keen and earnest young man who had very advanced ideas—did not believe in the marriage of the clergy, etc., etc.—he also stated that he had determined to become a bishop some day.

Some years later, on my way to England, I thought I would revisit my old district. I was very

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much astonished to find, among other things, that my friend in the next district had been moved to the town sixty miles away—had turned a complete somersault and was then a very “Low” churchman and also a very much married man.

Later he came over to the Dominion in which I lived as bishop of a certain diocese. So he got his wish or ambition realised. At that later date I should say he had once again changed into a moderate churchman, in fact, he was then all things to all men.

Let me relate just one more incident before we say a final good-bye to Australia.

In those days I had not obtained much experience in preaching and used to write down most carefully everything I wanted to say.

One Sunday morning I was driving through a gum forest in order to take Matins at a certain place, when my horse seemed to go suddenly lame. So I tied it up to a tree, and ran and walked the rest of the distance. When I reached the school (there was no church there) in which I was to hold the service, it was past the time arranged for starting, so I commenced at once.

All went very well till it was time for the sermon, but when I put my hand into my cassock pocket, I found I had left my manuscript in the gig. If I had realised at the beginning of the service that I had left it behind, there would have been no sermon. But I had no time to think, and although I was so nervous that I did not know if I was standing on my head or my tail, I managed to say something, but I never had the pluck to ask the people what I said. However, it was a lesson to me, and since that day I have always been careful about my sermon notes.

In that little place there was a wonderful woman. Evidently when she was young she had lived in a parish which possessed a parish priest who believed in training his people properly. She married and came up to this place where the church was not represented. But instead of following other people and going to the nearest place of worship, she started holding the service herself in her own home. Her example inspired other people who would otherwise have lapsed, and I believe her efforts were eventually rewarded, and a little church was built in the district.

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CHAPTER VIII.

On my return home, I settled down to study and very soon passed my first examination. A little later, while I was away on a holiday, I got a wire asking me to return home at once. The Bishop, who was a very old man, had decided to retire, and as he had known me since I was a very small child, he was anxious to ordain me before that event. It was necessary for me to pass three more examinations at the very least before I could obtain the office of a priest. So it meant remaining a deacon for several years, and also being hampered in my studies by having parish work to do as well.

However, as it was the wish of a very old family friend, I immediately returned and set to work to prepare for the special examination before ordination, and in due course was ordained into the ministry of the Church.

After spending a few months under the special supervision of the Archdeacon, I was appointed assistant to a clergyman in charge of a large city parish. Since that time it has been my privilege to assist many vicars in different parts of the world, but I honestly think that this man was the best parish priest I have ever come across. He was not only a very fine and eloquent preacher, but also a regular and consistent visitor. He did not confine his visits only to those people who appealed to him, without bothering about the rest, but went right through his parish so many times in each year. This was rather wonderful because it was a very large one, but he made a point, unless there was some good urgent reason for staying longer, of never staying more than ten minutes at each house. He had one other qualification which appealed to his parishioners, namely, a very sympathetic nature, so that in any case of trouble, sorrow or sickness, he was always welcome and helpful. He was very plainspoken, never afraid, in Synod or anywhere else, of saying exactly what he meant.

For this reason sometimes he did not attract, on a first acquaintance, but once people got to know him they could not help loving him.

There is a great story told about him, when he first became Vicar of that parish. At first he did not appeal, and the vestry thought he was going to be a

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failure, so in the thoroughly Christian way they have in some parts of the world, they began to starve him out. One Sunday when he got up into the pulpit, before he Started his sermon, he said: “My dear people, it is no good wasting your time in trying to starve me out, because lam not going to move.” He stayed for over thirty years, loved by all, and died while still Vicar of the parish. When his will was read, it was found that all his money, after the death of his wife and sister, was to be used to build a new church, and when this money eventually came to the parish it amounted to over £30,000. This was the man under whom I was privileged to serve and get my training, which helped me more than I am able to express.

When I came to the parish the Vicar had been there for a good many years, and was well established in the lives and hearts of his parishioners.

The parish had extended very rapidly, and it had been found necessary to build a mission room at one end of the parish, and it was here that my own work principally lay.

There were a number of very keen church people associated with this mission, and they were very anxious that it should be progressive. The Vicar and vestry of the parish church on the other hand were not anxious for it to develop too rapidly for fear of injury to the mother church.

This state of affairs caused a certain amount of friction, so I had rather a difficult job to be loyal to my Vicar and yet not dishearten the mission people too much.

When I had been there two years, I decided that the time was ripe for a church to be built. After a good deal of difficulty with the vestry of the parish church, I at last persuaded them to give their consent to this step forward. They made, however, one stipulation, that they would not be responsible for, or guarantee any debt. So that we had to be personally liable for the whole undertaking. But the people were thoroughly in earnest, the effort was wonderfully blessed, and at last the Vicar was able to ask the Governor to lay the foundation stone and the church was built.

About this time my brother left Australia and took charge of a large parish in another part of the

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Dominion. This parish had a very old church, and although a large sum of money, somewhere about £50,000 had been left to build a new church, no Vicar had ever managed to get it built. The trustees always put some impediment in the way. Some people say that they made a living out of looking after the trust, but whatever the real reason, the building of the church was always postponed. At last my brother got desperate and brought an action against these men in the Supreme Court, and although it cost about £5OO, he won the case, the men were made to disgorge, and a beautiful church was eventually built. But sad to relate, he was not able to remain to see the church built, the constant effort of going up and down the hills in the parish strained his heart, so he had to resign, and a few years later died in England.

After he had been there for some time, he was compelled to leave for a month, and found it quite impossible to get a locum. He wrote and asked if I would help him out of his difficulty, and although only a deacon, I came and took charge of this large parish. It was rather a large undertaking, as it meant procuring a priest to come for each celebration, but after consulting my Vicar, and with his permission, I decided to go to the rescue.

Luckily a very dear old saint, who had a small parish close by, and had worked with Father Lowder at St. Peter’s, London Docks, heard of my difficulty and helped me on most occasions.

While I was in this parish one of the most dreadful things occurred that I can ever remember in all my ministry. I was communicating the people with the chalice, and had handed the cup to a woman, when she deliberately turned away from the communion rail and consumed all the wine in the cup. It gave me a very great shock, and the next morning I reported the matter to the Bishop, who informed me that he knew who it was. I never heard what he did, or whether he moved any further in the matter.

In this parish there was a very large Youths’ Club of boys from 15 to 18. There was also a very large element of poor people in the parish, and a lot of these lads came along without any boots or socks—there were about 60 of them. All the games were placed on trestle tables, and the first evening I took

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charge of the Club, I was astonished to see some of the tables suddenly go up in the air. It was quite impossible to deal with the situation, as you could not notice all the tables at once, and if you were at one end of the room, there was bedlam at the other end. When the Club was finished for the evening, I wondered what I could do to stop a similar scene the next week. After thinking the matter over, I asked about half a dozen young men to come along with good sticks. As soon as a table began to perform, one of the sticks also came into action. By this means we brought these young men to order, and after that the club went on in a satisfactory manner.

There was one rather amusing- incident that occurred while my brother was Vicar of this large parish in the northern end of the Dominion. Among other things he was in charge of the Seamen’s Mission, but the Church of England was only responsible for the morning services, the various nonconformist bodies being responsible for the evening. In this town there was a college for divinity students and one of the students refused to attend service on Sunday evening, preferring to read Momerie’s Sermons. This attitude annoyed the other students intensely, and so they decided to punish him. One Saturday morning he got a letter signed by my brother asking him to take the service at the Seamen’s Mission on the following Sunday evening. When he arrived there he found a Wesleyan getting ready to officiate, and he politely told him to clear out. The Wesleyan suggested that they should share the honour or at any rate he would read the lesson. But this young man was adamant and refused to allow him to take any part in the service. You can well imagine the row the next morning about the Church trying to jump the position of the nonconformist. The students all had to come and apologise for forging my brother’s signature. This student is now a dignatory of the church.

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CHAPTER IX.

When I returned to the parish in which I was working, I found that opinions were very divided as to who should be nominated as the next Bishop, and at last authority of choice was delegated to the Archbishop of Canterbury. This indecision and later the delegation caused a long delay, so the diocese was without a Bishop for some considerable time. Also, according to the canons of the Church of the Dominion, the Bishop could not be consecrated in the Old Country. At last, however, the choice was made, and the new Bishop arrived and was consecrated.

My parents suggested to me that it would be only courteous for me to write to the Bishop and see if I could do anything to help him settle in his new surroundings, and in reply he stated that he would be very glad if I would come and unpack and arrange his books.

The Bishop and his wife were staying at Government House, and the Bishop asked me to come to lunch there. I will never forget that lunch, it was free and easy, very much like a buffet lunch. All the food was put on a side table and each person got up and made a choice of whatever he or she preferred. I felt very nervous and shy and would have fared very badly if the Bishop had not come to my rescue. The next day when I was once again asked to come to lunch, I made some excuse and went elsewhere.

Before I was ordained, a number of young men had associated themselves with me in the formation of a society which we termed the N.Z. Church Union. We considered ourselves rather advanced churchmen, but judged by the standard of churchmanship of the Anglo-Catholics of to-day, we would have been termed rather “Low Church,” simply because the development of churchmanship has been so rapid. However, we instituted a series of lectures in the different parishes in turn on church history and church teaching, the lecturer usually being the vicar of the parish. We also adopted a rule making regular and frequent communion an obligation upon each member. Lastly and most important of all we started a church paper to be circulated throughout the Dominion. Most of the diocesan papers were either sixpence or threepence each, and we decided to issue our paper at the rate ot one nennv ner copy.

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To meet the cost of this venture, which at any rate would not pay its way at first, each member of the Union was supposed to contribute one shilling per month. We induced certain clergymen in various parts of the Dominion to act as agents for the distribution of the paper, and also to contribute articles and other matter for each issue.

The Magazine was a great success and had a large and increasing circulation all over the Dominion. I was acting as manager of the venture, but unfortunately when I was ordained, owing to parish work and study, I was compelled to resign.

Our president was a Bishop living at one extreme end of the Dominion, and when I resigned he decided to have the paper transferred to his diocese, and to take over the management personally. He then began to make it try to run before it had learnt to walk, which eventually led to its ruin. Or, to put it in other words, he had it more elaborately printed on octavo paper, which added greatly to the cost of production. The fact of losing its central position made the rapid circulation of the paper all over the Dominion rather difficult, and also the agents and contributors in some parts withdrew their support, as they did not approve of the change of venue.

It was all very unfortunate, as it was a great opportunity, and if it had not attempted to develop too rapidly at first, it might have eventually grown into a strong church paper for the whole Dominion.

After I had passed two more examinations, the new Bishop thought it would be better for me if I went home to England for the rest of my studies and was ordained to the priesthood there in order to obtain a certain amount of experience in a large English parish.

I was delighted with the idea, as I was only too eager to extend my knowledge of the world, and also obtain additional experience. But the great difficulty was the question of finance. I had already been such an expense to my people that I did not care to go on asking them for help.

I am afraid I had not saved very much, as the idea of leaving the Dominion again had never entered my mind. The Bishop kindly came to my rescue and promised part of the money needed, and some of my relations also gave me presents, so at last all the dif-

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Acuities were overcome, and I started on my travels once more.

As I had to go to Australia to catch a P. and 0. boat for England, I took the opportunity of visiting my old parish in Australia to which I referred in a former chapter.

It is often very sad returning to a place after an absence of some years, and so I found it on that occasion. Not only had the place changed, but some of the people had died, and others had moved away. Altogether I felt very sad and half regretted that I had come at all.

The only thing I remember about this voyage was a dreadful quarrel between two sets of people as to who should arrange the sports. It not only made the voyage very unpleasant to the non-participants, but in the end led to all the money subscribed being given to a sailors’ institute, and the abandonment of the sports.

At Colombo I did a very foolish thing, put the black man in the rickshaw and ran between the shafts myself. I was anxious to see how a white man would stand the strain. I became puffed after about 300 yards, and also was told that I had lost caste with the black people.

England at last, and so different to all that I had ever imagined, so large that when I landed at the docks and could only see a very small distance, I thought what a small place it was.

While I was waiting for a licence from the Archbishop of Canterbury, which in those days—and it may be so still for all I know—was absolutely essential before one could take up any position, I decided to visit the clergyman to whom I had first gone for advice when I made up my mind to change my mode of life.

On his return to the Homeland he had taken a small living in Norfolk. It consisted of two villages, but as there was only one long street with a village at each end, it was quite impossible for a stranger to distinguish where one village began and the other ended. At each end of the street there was a very fine church, probably in past days each church belonging to a rival monastery. The Vicar informed me that he was compelled to be very careful regarding services and other things, not to favour one more than the

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other, as it would soon lead to trouble. So one Sunday he would be in the morning at one church and afternoon at the other, and next Sunday reverse the order. It was impossible to close one and restore the other, so they were both gradually falling into decay. I am writing of fifty years ago, and I often wonder what has happened since that time, or whether it is going on just the same as ever, as things often do in the country of England.

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CHAPTER X.

The parish I went to work in was in the Potteries, and the Church was called Hope Church, but in many ways it was rather a hopeless parish. The Vicarage was situated in another parish and was next door to another Vicarage, although I do not think there was much in common between the two places.

I will never forget the picture the place presented to me when I first approached it—so drab and dirty—and in every way the greatest contrast to the Dominion, and it made me feel rather depressed. However, later I learned to love this place very much and found that the people, in spite of their adverse environment had very warm hearts. This parish possessed two curates—one was attached to a mission district and lived at the Vicarage, and the other one, myself, lived in rooms immediately opposite, so as to be under the eye of the Vicar and his wife. The Vicar was a short podgy little man with only one eye, but possessing a wife who was much younger, tall and full of energy. The church had one pecularity, the only entry to the pulpit through the vestry, and from the vestry you had to climb up a flight of steps to reach the pulpit. On each side of it by way of light, there was a large gas jet. The Vicar’s glass eye was so wonderfully made—l believe in France-—that it was very difficult to distinguish which was the glass eye. However, when I first heard him preach, I guessed at once as he turned out one gas jet as much as to say, “that is no good to me.” He was a dear old man but very important, and I will never forget one text of his. It was out of Nehemiah: “I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down.” There he was stuck high up in the pulpit, and as he emphasised the text you could imagine that he was not only thinking of the prophet, but also of himself.

We had a daily service about 7.30 each morning', and we had to travel some distance to the church. I remember one morning standing at my bedroom window upstairs brushing by hair, when I saw the Vicar coming out of his gate. I had often heard that expression, “Giddy, giddy goat, your shirt’s hanging out," but I had never seen it actually realised. Yet, as the Vicar came up the road his shirt was reallv hanging out. I naturally rushed out as quick as I could to

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intercept him, and I could see him going up the hill and all the people laughing. He was turning round glaring, poor beggar, not knowing what was wrong. I put on a spurt, but before I could catch up to him, some one had pulled him into a shop or house. I never mentioned the matter—neither did he. I would have thought such a thing impossible if I had not actually witnessed it.

While I was in this parish the other curate became engaged, and when he went to interview the father of his intended wife, her younger sister managed to hide under the sofa, so the parish as well as the father and future son-in-law had a full account of the interview.

After a time a Mission Church was built at one end of the parish, and the Bishop of Shrewsbury came to dedicate it. For his address he took the subject of building other barns after filling those which you already possessed, but the unfortunate part of the matter was that the parish church was always more than half empty—of course he did not know that.

When I first reached this parish I was so full of enthusiasm that I started visiting door to door, and wherever I went and asked the people to come to church, most of them said, yes, they most certainly would. I thought how lazy the parsons must be, the people only waiting to be asked. But on the Sunday none of them turned up, and few of them ever did, but they were too kind to upset me by refusing.

These people were very disappointed when I arrived. They had been told that the next curate was coming all the way from the Dominion, and they knew the original inhabitants were black, and so they were disgusted when they found that I was white.

There were three tea meetings held in the parish. The Vicar organised the first connected with the Church, and certain people subscribed 5/- each for part of a table which paid for the food.

The second one was connected with the Mission Church, which was managed by the other curate and different members of that congregation gave 5/- each to pay for the tea.

The third one was called the Temperance Tea Meeting and the Vicar told me to organise this one, but he said that I could not ask people for 5/- to pay for the tea, because of the other two tea meetings,

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and he told me that I must manage to pay for it out of the proceeds.

The Temperance Society at that time was a very feeble affair consisting of about 20 old women who had never imbibed anything stronger than water or tea. However, a lot of the people joined with me and we decided we would make this thing “go.” We issued a large number of tickets at sixpence each and sold them on deferred payment—one penny per week—-and guaranteed them all a ham tea. When I came down to the school on the afternoon of the tea meeting, the street was packed with people and we had to open the church and keep the organ playing while we fed some of the people, and then have a second and third sitting. They were certainly a rough lot, and at the after meeting they howled the Vicar down when he tried to speak. Some of the people took food away in their baskets and yet in spite of everything we cleared £5.

The next day the Vicar had me on the carpet, but I told him it was the first time his parishioners had come to the church and school.

The few people who attended the church came from outside, the real parishioners being a very hard lot, —and yet I loved them. When I was leaving the parish these people gave me a gold watch subscribed for mostly in pennies, and the Temperance Society, which had become much larger, gave me a gold cross. The Vicar said a silver one was quite good enough, as he had never forgotten the temperance tea.

The parish was part of a large town in the “Black Country,” but if you were to visit it to-day and meet any one who had lived there at that time they would remember that tea, as it was the joke of the town.

It was while I was working in the Black Country that my father died. When I told him I was going Home to England he said, “then you will never sea me again.” However, I was an optimist and thought the time would soon pass and I would be home again.

One day when the Vicar and other curate were away the news came that my father had passed over the border. The feeling 1 was dreadful, so far from home and among comparative strangers. And what made it worse was the fact that there was a service that evening and a sermon to be preached and no one to help. When at last I did return home again it was never quite the same.

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I happened to be in this parish at the time of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee and was given a holiday, but instead of following the crowds to London I decided to go to Ireland. So off I started and after staying in Dublin I arrived at Cork on the day of the races—it was an eye-opener, so many people seemed to prefer something stronger than water. Then on to Killarney and I seemed to be the only tourist. I was very interested to see all the men in charge of an evicted estate protected by some one else carrying a gun. When I remarked about it I was told that if I had come some years earlier I would have seen two instead of one. Before reaching the Lake it is necessary to go through the Gap of Dunloe. It is usual to take a guide, but I thought myself very clever and go alone and save money. There are supposed to be wonderful echoes at different points as you gradually climb the hill, and at one place a man fires a cannon and at another a violin is played. You are asked to give donations to these various beggars, but you are practically forced to do so. I remember seeing a onelegged man on a donkey and he had to reach a certain point to play a violin. I had been compelled to spend so much on these men that I made up my mind that I would get there first, so off I started to run and we had a great race—much to his indignation and anger I won—a question to his mind of doing a man out of his just rights. When I at last reached the Lake I was a much wiser but sadder man. However, taking it all in all that trip is on© of the things I treasure in my mind, and I am always thankful that I did visit Killarney.

Whilst on a visit to this town in the potteries when war was declared in 1914, and although the standard of manhood was supposed to be very low, the men all volunteered as one man, and when some one spoke to me about getting rid of the riff raff I said, “you ought to be very proud of those you call riff raff.”

When winter came on, the church people were rather worried about my chest, and it was thought advisable to move me to the South of England, and so I took a curacy at Brighton.

I lived in the Vicarage there, and we had late dinner and not much work in the evening. The Vicar and his wife were charming people and were wonder-

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fully kind to me, but I missed the rush and dirt of the Black Country, and so begged to go back and risk my chest.

On my return I passed my exams., was eventually ordained to the priesthood at Lichfield, and at last started back for the Dominion.

I felt very sad at saying good-bye, because although the Black Country is supposed to be one of the worst parts of England, I learned to love the people in spite of their rough ways, and found beneath the surface very warm hearts. The parish in many ways was disheartening, as many of the people seemed out of touch with the church, still there were many things to encourage as well as discourage, and whenever I think of those days there is always a pleasant feeling in my heart.

Many years later someone sent me a cutting from an English paper with this heading: “Closure of a Hanley Church, Trinity Church closed yesterday and will remain so, pending the decision of a commission, etc.” Trinity Hope is an old and once fashionable Hanley Parish. The reason for its proposed ending as a separate entity is its present redundancy, owing to large numbers of the population it once represented being removed under clearance and rehousing schemes to other parts of the City.”

This was the Church where I held my first curacy in England and referred to in the foregoing pages. The old Vicar has long since been called home, and 1 myself am now a very old man.

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CHAPTER XL

When I once again reached the Dominion I found that the Bishop had been compelled to divide my old parish in half about six months before my return and put another man in temporary charge. However, as soon as I got back I was inducted as first Vicar of this place.

The parish that I was now given charge of was scattered over a rather wide area for a town parish. From the centre it went out to the sea coast in two opposite directions, and each of these localities was residential. They were each about four miles from the parish church, so it was very important to provide places of worship as soon as possible. This was not very easy, as there were no diocesan funds available for the purpose, and the parish being only recently constituted had as much as it could do to meet current expenses. However, after a great struggle two little Mission Churches were erected and the attendance soon proved what a necessity they were. I remember very well in the case of one of these rooms, what a difficulty I had in buying a piece of land considered especially suitable for the purpose. Its owner lived in the back country of the Dominion and had no wish to sell. At last as a special favour he agreed to sell us the land. Those who are associated with this church in future years will appreciate our choice, as it occupies the best possible position in the district.

I shall always remember the four-mile walk (as it was before the age of trams or motor-cars) each way in order to officiate at these centres, and I often wonder if the residents really appreciated the effort made on their behalf, especially on the part of the lay readers, who received no remuneration and only performed this great work for the love of the cause.

There were two rather amusing incidents that occurred at this time, which were rather disturbing when they happened.

There was a large home in the parish for destitute and orphan girls in which I took a great deal of interest. When I visited the children I generally brought them fruit and sweets. I did not see very much of the matron, who was old enough to be my mother. What was my astonishment and consternation one day to get a letter from the matron stating

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that she had considered my offer of marriage, and had decided to accept me! All sorts of visions of action for breach of promise and other things floated through my mind, and you can well imagine my state of consternation. After thinking the matter over, I decided that the best thing that I could do was to forward the letter to the Bishop. When the matter had been investigated, it was found that the woman was a little queer in the head, and that was the end of the matter, but till it ended it was a great source of worry.

The other matter was not quite so serious and was rather amusing. Among my parishioners there was a deaf woman. She, unfortunately, in more ways than one—got ill, and I eventually called upon her. When I bent down to speak to her, she caught hold of me and kissed me. Being young and rather shy, it gave me a shock, and I immediately went and bought her a speaking trumpet.

During part of my residence in this place I had a Frenchman for my churchwarden. On one occasion we held a large fair in the town and late one afternoon someone told me that the woman who had charge of the Tea Rooms was accusing her helpers of putting the takings in their pockets, instead of handing the money in at the cash desk. This woman had rather a bad temper, and as I am not very diplomatic, I decided to use my warden. So I sent a message to him to say that he was wanted at the refreshment room and that I was going out for my tea. When I returned I found everything running smoothly and peace restored. Such is the advantage of that special gift which many Frenchmen possess.

During my stay here I persuaded a builder who was a friend of mine to erect a large gymnasium for me. When it was partly built there was a very bad gale, which quickly demolished the building because it had not been properly stayed, and so the builder had to start over again. This venture did not pay its way, although it supplied a great need in the parish, so when I resigned the parish did not see its way clear to take over the liability, and so I was compelled to sell the building. It was bought by one of the city hotels for a laundry, and no sooner was the cheque cashed than the proprietor went bankrupt. Another venture was the formation of a rowing club for the young men. One of the rowing clubs of the town to

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which I formerly belonged presented me with a whaleboat, and I also purchased two boats from a shipping company belonging to the Dominion. We had many adventurous journeys in these boats and went out camping together. We took so many risks that I think we were very lucky not to meet with any accidents. I am afraid that when I left the parish the club gradually fizzled out. We also had a very good football club which made its mark for some years, producing some representative players.

I remember on one occasion persuading the Governor to let me have Government House for one Easter Monday afternoon, when he was in another part of the Dominion. It was situated in another parish at the other end of the town. So I went to the vicar of the other parish which was much better off and stated that with his permission I purposed having a garden party at Government House, and would be willing to give his parish half the proceeds if his parishioners would supply the refreshments. He agreed to this, so I engaged a band and charged one shilling admission and both parishes netted a good sum.

On another occasion I persuaded the Shipping Company to lend me one of their steamers for a moonlight excursion round the harbour. We again had a band and as it turned out a beautiful evening, the undertaking was well patronised and also brought in a good sum of money.

There was so much to do and so many expenses in the development of a new parish which had spread very rapidly, that it was sometimes difficult to find out how to get the necessary funds to meet the large expenditure.

Among other things it was deemed necessary to supply the church with a pipe organ, and the only way this could be accomplished was by guaranteeing to pay the builder certain definite amounts at certain fixed periods for which I was personally responsible. When one of these amounts was due, I called the people together and asked what they suggested doing to meet this payment. They stated that they thought they were doing enough. So I had to let the meeting lapse without any plan, and I was personally faced with this liability. Fortunately I had many friends in the city and some of them came to my rescue and raised the necessary amount for me.

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The parish at this time was much too large for one priest, and could not afford to pay any more. My salary was only £250 p.a. but I persuaded another man to join me, on condition that I shared my salary with him. Although he is no longer alive, I would like to pay tribute to his loyalty, kindness and comradeship all the time we were colleagues together.

There was one other undertaking, the building of a third mission church, for which I was personally liable, and which the parish, although they used it all the time refused to take over when I left. On one occasion they wrote suggesting that I should give it to them, but as at that time I did not possess sufficient money to defray the liability, I told them how impossible their request was.

When eventually I left the parish, I am sorry to say that there were certain liabilities, but when one realises how much was accomplished, in three or four years in a poor struggling parish with only just enough income to pay its way, it is really marvellous that there were no greater debts.

When I arrived in this parish I found that the original mission room in which services were first held at that time belonged to a well-known doctor. He had let it to the Plymouth Brethren but they were beginning to find it too small and had approached him with the idea of persuading him to replace it with a larger and more up-to-date building. When I heard of what was likely to happen I wrote to him and asked him if he would give me a present of the old building. In reply he stated that he was quite willing to do so if I paid for the removal of it.

There were two things in connection with this removal that have always impressed it upon my memory. The first thing was that I had to sell all my rowing prizes to obtain the money to meet this expenditure. Also during the removal the old building stuck on the tram line and caused a certain amount of excitement and inconvenience.

During the removal the building burst asunder and I received a letter from a dear Lutheran who used to attend my services very regularly, stating that it was only natural that such a thing should happen when one realised that it was a collision between the teaching of the Plymouth Brethren and the Church of England.

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However, it was nice once again getting possession of the building in which the services were first held in this parish.

My mother’s death occurred while I was Vicar of this new parish, and her death was also a factor in my decision to offer myself for service in Central Africa. All the home ties were severed and there was nothing to anchor me any longer.

On a particular Sunday after a long illness of very much suffering one could see that the end was near. I was staying at home and in the early morning I went off to my church which was some distance away to take the early communion. When I started off again for the mid-day service there was the thought in my mind. “Will she be alive when I return?” I do not think many could realise what a strain I was under while preaching that morning when all the time I was thinking, “Will I see her again?” But she just lived long enough for me to return to say “Good-bye” before God called her Home.

After my mother died I decided to erect a rood screen in her memory, but did not put any plate on it. Years later when I revisited the church, I found that it was missing. Upon enquiry I was told that it had to be pulled down on account of dry rot. But the extraordinary thing was that I was never notified in any way. As an excuse it was stated that the church authorities did not know who had placed it there. But many of the old parishioners knew all about it if enquiries had been made, and I would have been quite willing to renew it. As a matter of fact there was no more dry rot in the screen than in the organ and other parts of the church. I have been told, but cannot say if it is true or not, that the Vicar was very keen on broadcasting, and had an idea that the screen interfered with the sound, hence its removal. Whatever the cause I am certain of two things: first, that it would have been quite easy to find out who placed the screen in the church, and secondly, that it seems dreadful to remove a gift without endeavouring to find out why and by whom it was given.

While I write these words it was found necessary to move a similar gift from another church, but before taking any action, the Vicar first took the trouble to find out who gave the memorial, and then approached the giver and put the whole position before him.

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Some years later, I happened to be in this town and thought I would, once again, visit my old church, and while I was sitting in the church meditating, the Vicar came in and said, “Have you seen this church before?” I didn’t say, “Yes, I built it,” but only, “Yes, I think I have.” I often wondered what he would have said, after destroying a gift given in memory of my mother. The portion I built was only part of a much larger church, but from what I hear, there will not be any need to enlarge it at present.

Now let me tell you why I left this parish. When I was returning to the Dominion to take charge of it, I became very friendly with another priest who was making the trip for health reasons. In the diocese in which he worked they had a Junior Clergy Society. Each member of this organisation was bound to study a certain Mission and see that the various members of the Society were kept up-to-date with the movements in that particular mission. This man who was so responsible for all information about the Universities Mission to Central Africa was so enthusiastic that not only did he tell me a great deal about it but also made me fairly keen. Later, I came across the life of a young man who had died while working in that mission field, and this touched me very much. After thinking about the matter a good deal, I decided that it was up to me to volunteer. I got into communication with the Management Committee in England and was accepted conditionally. Not only did I have to pass a local doctor, but also the doctor connected with the Mission in the Homeland. I was passed by the doctor in the Dominion, gave up my parish, and once again started on my travels.

I have always had a strong objection to farewell sermons, and whenever it can be avoided, to presentations. Although there is a continual cry about underpaid clergy it will, to my mind, be a bad day for the Church when there is a well-paid ministry. It will make men more than ever inclined to enter the ministry of the Church for what they can get, rather than what they can give and will do away to a certain extent with the idea of self-sacrifice—giving up worldly interests for the sake of the Master.

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CHAPTER XII.

When I left my parish en route for Central Africa via England I did not mention the matter in church or have any farewell gathering. I must be honest and state that my Vestry insisted on giving me an extra month’s salary but that was all, and when I left on a certain evening by a steamer for the north of the Dominion to catch the Frisco boat, at my special request I did not have anyone to bid me good-bye.

The only thing of note on this voyage was the presence of a large “Liliputian” opera company which occupied so much space in the second class that till they left the boat at Honolulu I was given a first class cabin to myself although I still had my meals in the second class. The children were very well looked after, having their own school mistress and lessons every day. I had only one objection to them and that was the large amount of raw onions they consumed each day. When we arrived in Frisco we found the place in the throes of a very large strike and it was rather dangerous to walk about the streets, especially on the water-front as there was indiscriminate gun fire and I knew of one man at least who had no connection with the strike but was shot accidentally. Under the circumstances we thought it inadvisable to stay very long so we did not see as much as we otherwise would have seen. I say “we” because when I started on my journey I chummed up with another man who was also bound for England and we kept together throughout the whole voyage.

After leaving Frisco we paid a visit to Salt Lake city, which, to my mind, was one of the cleanest towns I have even visited. The Church Synod happened to be in session while we were at Salt Lake City. Before I left the Dominion I got my Bishop to give me a letter recommending me to the Bishop and clergy of any diocese in America or any other country I should happen to visit. So that when I found that the Synod was in session I presented my letter of recommendation. It was a small affair and I was very embarrassed when I was asked to address them and I have not the slightest recollection as to whether I did so or not.

Chicago has the name of being the centre of the gang life of America but to the visitor who was just

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passing through, it seemed very much the same as any other city. My chief remembrance was a visit to the cattle market —one of the greatest in the world—at 4 a.m. Also the visit I paid to the clergy house where I was courteously received and kindly treated.

If I were asked to name the chief characteristic of the American people, I should say, the kindness and hospitality almost universally extended to strangers.

Of course we could not leave America without visiting and being deeply impressed with the Niagara Falls. In one of the shop windows I noticed a photograph of two men throwing another man over the Falls. I was horrified and wondered how such a thing was allowed. However, upon enquiry in the shop I found that the picture was faked, but it was wonderfully produced and very realistic.

There was a wonderful exhibition at Buffalo which is close at hand and which we also visited. It is an incident in my life that I will never forget because it was while we were in Buffalo that President McKinley was assassinated. When he was buried, trains, trams, and every kind of vehicle was stationery; all business everywhere was suspended and every gathering of people throughout the land sang his favourite hymn, “Nearer My God to Thee.” Ido not think I have ever witnessed anything more impressive.

New York was reached just in time to see the America Cup Yacht Race and England once again defeated. The race is for the America Cup. Sir Thos. Lipton owned the British yacht. But it was not so much the race but the thousands of boats of every type and description which came out to see the race and never before or since have I seen such a wonderful array.

I will always look back upon my trip through America with the greatest of pleasure—everyone seemed to go out of his way to help to make my visit a success.

I had heard a great deal about life in the underworld of New York and thought it would be a pity to leave without trying to verify the reports, so one evening I started out and when I got to a certain part of the city I approached a policeman and asked him whether he would show me life in the underworld for a consideration. His reply was, “Young man, it is time

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you were in bed.” So I took his advice and went off to bed.

Early one Saturday morning in the early autumn we landed in Liverpool, coming from New York in the Campania, which was considered to be one of the finest passenger steamers belonging to England before the age of the Queen Mary.

I decided to stay in Liverpool all day and journey down to the Potteries in the evening. I did not warn anyone that I was coming and the next morning I attended the early celebration at the church in which I had ministered for some years. If I had only considered the matter I would have warned my old Vicar that I had once more arrived in England. The poor old man imagined that I was still in the Dominion and then suddenly he saw me sitting in the church. It was too much for him and he missed out one of the commandments and said “Thou shalt covet,” omitting the “not.”

I was compelled to come Home for my second medical examination (as it was necessary not only to undergo a medical test in the Dominion but also before the Mission’s Medical Officer in the Old Country). When I arrived in England I found that I should be compelled to spend so many months there as it was not the proper time to go to Central Africa. It was important, therefore, to obtain some temporary work and I was lucky enough to get a very good curacy in Leek. After being there for some months the Mission gave me some deputation work.

Soon after I had started on a lecturing tour on behalf of the Mission someone sent me a parcel kept together with needles instead of pins. I thought it a pity to waste them and so I put them in my coat. One day when I was jumping out of a gig I hit the coat with a bag and one of the needles went into my leg near the hip joint. I went immediately to a doctor and he opened the leg but could not find the needle. In Essex I went on lecturing every night just as usual and a week or two later I was down in Cornwall and one morning when I got out of the train at a certain town I felt a pain near my knee and when I put down my hand I could feel the needle well and it had travelled all that way down my leg in a few weeks. When I was walking up the street I asked a man if he could tell me where I could find a doctor. He replied, “I am

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a doctor,” and he took me into a dirty little room and stuck a knife into me as if he was sticking a pig—but he had the needle out in a few minutes. When he gave it to me it was quite black. I had a nephew at Oxford at that time and he was so interested in the incident that he persuaded me to give him the needle and told me that he would always keep it in a pocket book as a mascot. Later, however, at the time of the Great War he went to Gallipoli as a Major and was killed during the evacuation. Whether he still possessed the needle or not I do not know but if so it did not bring the poor chap luck.

Deputation work is very interesting and a great study of human nature going all over the country and staying at the Vicarages, one meets all sorts and conditions. Cornwall was very interesting but I found some of the parsons very depressed. It is not surprising, because in some parts work must have been very trying.

At one place I arrived late on a Saturday evening I found a dear old couple just going into church to say Evensong, so of course, I went in with them. The church was lit with oil lamps and as we knelt down the Vicar’s wife noticed that one of the lamps was smoking and so she naturally got up off her knees to turn it down. Then up jumped the old Vicar and roared, “What do you mean by interfering?” and turned it up again. I thought well lam going to have lively time here. However, I was quite wrong. They were the dearest old couple, quaint and original but kindness itself.

On another Saturday I was supposed to go to a place some way from the station. Wien I arrived at the station there was no one to meet me. After sitting in the station for about two hours a groom in a gig came dashing up and said, “The Squire (who was also Vicar) has gone out hunting and forgot all about you.” However, once again when I eventually arrived I found nothing but kindness. On another occasion I met a Vicar who was passionately fond of chess and we started playing on the Monday morning and got so wrapped up in it that I nearly missed my train. I came across one Vicar who was a moderate churchman, but had a curate who not only had very advanced views but was very strong minded. He completely

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bossed his poor little Vicar who had not enough personality and courage to assert himself and was utterly miserable. I often wondered what was the end of the chapter.

If those people who do deputation work study their hosts I have no doubt the hosts also study them and often think what a queer lot of fish are sent round lecturing for the different missionary societies. But there is one thing I should like to say, it is wonderful how many men of universal courtesy and kindness one meets with every where (not only in England, but in the Dominions) when engaged in this work.

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CHAPTER XIII.

At last the time arrived when it was safe to start for the Mission. The part to which I was going had a new Bishop, consecrated to preside over it, and I was appointed as his chaplain for the journey. After a very impressive service of dismissal we started across the Continent to join our boat at Naples. Unfortunately vaccination—an absolute necessary when working in certain parts of the world—had made me feel very ill and instead of my waiting upon the Bishop he had to attend to me. Also it spoilt to a great extent what otherwise would have been a most interesting and enjoyable journey. In those days anyone wanting to travel down the East Coast of Africa was compelled to travel on a German boat, as the Germans had captured all the trade and ousted all the British passenger boats from that route altogether. It has always seemed to me that if the German Empire had not been so impatient it might have gradually conquered the world commercially without any war at all.

When we reached Naples I asked the Bishop if we were to share the same cabin and he said, “NO, certainly not.” Now it was rather an extraordinary thing, and I have never been able to explain it, but I had a very fine cabin, which I shared with a German, and the Bishop had to share another cabin, not half so nice, with another German. Now this was not very satisfactory to either party, and so it ended in the Bishop sharing my cabin and the two Germans joining hands in the other cabin. The Bishop was a very big man, weighing about 18 stone, and he preferred the upper berth. Each night when he went to bed the berth used to go down, down and down and I often wondered if he would come down on top of me and squash me.

It was the time of the Boer War, and feeling was running very high between the English and Germans. We had a German Colonel on board and an English Captain who had been wounded in the war and was just recovering. One day the Captain happened to occupy the Colonel’s chair and there was a very nasty scene. During the voyage it was the Kaiser’s birthday and only the Germans were notified of the fact. At dinner in the evening, there was a sudden pause and

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someone got up to propose the health of the Kaiser. As no one outside was in the secret and had nothing with which to toast him, it was very uncomfortable. I stood up with a glass of water and the Bishop sat down and refused to take any notice at all. A French priest said, “Very inferior manners.” When the toast had been honoured, the band, which was stationed on the deck above the saloon, played the Gennan National Anthem. That was only one of many incidents which did not add to the pleasure of the voyage.

As I was accompanying the Bishop I had the privilege—which I believe was not usual with the missionaries—of travelling first class. But in the second class there was another Bishop going out to another part of Africa. Both Bishops were what is often termed advanced churchmen, but that is the only thing they seemed to have in common. The Bishop in the second class was a Saint and I would have been quite willing to make myself a door mat for him to walk over. Whereas my Bishop, although doubtless a very fine man in many ways, did not seem to make the Same appeal, and one always felt that sort of stand off feeling, I am the Bishop.” I remember soon after we had started he asked me to come down to the cabin at mid-day to say the Office. Now I am going to admit that I was very ignorant and at that time did not know anything about the services for the Hours, and so when he began the Office I did not respond or take any part in the service simply because I could not find the places. Of course I admit that I was very sill v and ought to have explained the matter, but I thought I would do better the next day. However, there was no next day, as I was never asked to be present again.

When we reached Zanzibar, where I was a complete stranger, of course, the Bishop was met by those in charge of the Mission. Off he went and left me alone, either to stay on the boat or shift for myself. When the other Bishop, who had nothing to do with me, saw my predicament, he said: “Come along with me, I know this place well.” It was intensely hot and I did not feel well, and when some one gave him a beautiful orange, he refused to eat it, but insisted that I should do so. It is these small things that go to make up character and leave impressions on the mind that will never be forgotten. I have never met that

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man since, but always think of him as one of God’s Saints —full of self-sacrifice and self-forgetfulness.

Just as we reached Zanzibar one of the leading clergy stationed there died of smallpox simply because he refused to be vaccinated. It seemed such a pity that a valuable life should be wasted when it might have been so easily avoided. It was during our short stay at Zanzibar that there was one of the worst thunder storms that I have ever experienced. In the Dominion we talk about violent thunder storms, but they are child’s play in comparison.

The most wonderful thing in Zanzibar is the Cathedral. It stands on the site of what used to be the great slave market of the world, with the altar placed in the position of the old whipping post. And that is not the only thing. The building was a great problem, owing to the white ant plague. Bishop Steere made a suggestion to overcome this difficulty, and those who were supposed to be authorities said it was impracticable. But in spite of those contrary opinions he carried out his ideas, and that Cathedral, among other things, is a witness to his ingenuity.

Once again we started, bound for Chinde at the mouth of the Zambesi River. When we arrived there the passengers bound for Central Africa were transferred to a small tender and the ocean finer resumed her journey down the coast. As the tender could not cross the bar until it was high tide we had some hours to wait. So we were left tossing about in this stuffy little boat seeming to melt away in the intense heat. But as everything comes- to an end, and at last we crossed the bar and slowly wended our way up the river to Chinde. There was nothing very inspiring in this little settlement, and I could quite well imagine that those people who dwelt there only did so because they were compelled to do so through force of circumstances.

The Zambesi at that time happened to be in flood and was a great stretch of water. It was almost impossible to look across and see the other bank. Various transport companies had their representatives at Chinde and also their shallow flat bottomed steam boats to convey passengers up the river. The Bishop thought it would be better to sleep on the river boat rather than on shore to escape the mosquitoes and the

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terrible heat. Each of these boats had a white captain and engineer, but the rest of the staff were black boys. This evening the engineer decided to stay ashore and took the only boat the steamer possessed. During the night we had an experience that I shall never forget. Some tons of grass fouled the anchor chain and the steamer started slowly drifting down the river. There was no means of communication with the shore and it was only a question as to whether the boat could get up steam before we reached the bar. Luckily the captain understood all about the engines—which was very necessary, as often the engineer might be down with fever—and the boat had been used in the afternoon and so the water in the boilers was not cold. The drift was very slow and we were some distance from the bar, but I am willing to admit that I was very frightened and felt very relieved when the steamer got under weigh again. The native boys were simply marvellous—they kept on going down into the rushing water attempting to clear the anchor chain. Altogether it was an experience not easily forgotten.

There was naturally a certain amount of rivalry between the various transport companies. You would be slowly going up the river and suddenly the boat would stick on a sand bank. While you were stationary a rival boat would pass, jeering at your predicament. Then perhaps the next day you would have the opportunity of returning the compliment and pass your rival hard and fast. The boats were stoked with wood, and every now and then you would have to tie up to the bank to replenish your stock. Also it was quite impossible to travel at night as the pilot could not see the channel. Sometimes when tied up for the night one could hear the animals with their various cries in the forest close by.

At one place I went ashore and had the honour of being able to see Mrs Livingstone’s grave. At another place I went into the forest to find Bishop McKenzie’s grave. Although it has a very large cross formed with railway irons, it was very difficult to find because it was obliterated by the foliage. I climbed up to the top of the cross and completely cleared it, but I am afraid it would be only clear for a very short while, as the growth was so rapid.

It was very interesting when we had to leave the

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river on account of the Murchison Falls and climb into the Shire highlands. There the atmosphere was quite different, more like England, and at that wonderful Scottish Mission Station at Blantyre, where we were hospitably entertained, roses and honeysuckle were growing in profusion, also it was interesting to see the coffee and tobacco plantations. After leaving the Mission we travelled down to the Upper Shire River and started for Lake Nyasa. Before I leave the rivers, let me say how marvellous it was to note the intelligence shown by the birds in building the nests on very thin branches of the trees overhanging the river, so weak that a snake would not risk gliding along them to steal the eggs. So interesting, too, to see crocodiles floating down the river with their young ones on their backs and wondering after the eggs were hatched in the sand by the heat of the sun, how each mother could know its baby when there were so many eggs there. One day we saw a huge boa-constrictor swimming across the river and the captain of the steamer managed to shoot it.

At the foot of Lake Nyasa there is a Naval Station, Fort Johnston. Years ago it was practically wiped out by malaria. Then people found out that mosquitoes bred in the grass in the still water and pools by the banks of the rivers. All the grass was cleared away and the pools filled up, and when I arrived there Fort Johnston was a comparatively healthy place.

We started from Fort Johnston in a very small steamer belonging to the Mission on Lake Nyasa. The Lake is really an inland sea some hundreds of miles long and about forty miles wide. In the bays the water is so transparent that you can see the many coloured fish swimming about at the bottom. At that time one side of the Lake belonged to Britain, half the other side to Germany, and the other half to Portugal.

The first village we touched at was called Kota Kota. We found the Priest in charge in bed with malaria. The Bishop was very anxious to get to the Island of Likoma, the centre of the Mission, as soon as possible, so he left me in charge of the station. Now they had a daily celebration and the celebrant wore vestments. The service was rendered in the language of the country (Chinyanza) and some of the

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words had over a dozen letters. Now just imagine what it would feel like if you were suddenly asked to take a service in English when you only just knew the letters of the alphabet, and in garments which you did not know how to put on. I did not know a word of Chinyanza and I had never worn vestments. Luckily there was a woman teacher who kindly robed me and I managed to spell my way through the service, although most of the words were probably wrongly pronounced and emphasised. I never asked anyone about that service.

Some of the missionaries who knew one language thoroughly would officiate in that language only. I said that as I did not know any language I was willing to officiate in them all.

While I was in England the Bishop of London preached a sermon before the King and Queen called “The Touch of Faith.” In that sermon he mentioned a young man who came to him to be blessed just before starting for the mission field where he had made up his mind to give his life. He had no idea he would give it so soon. Very shortly after reaching Kota Kota he got a bad attack of fever and passed away. One of the first things that I had to do when I reached Kota Kota was to go through all his belonging and pack them up to be sent home to his parents. It seemed a very sad beginning. While at Kota Kota I visited the grave of W. Sims, another young priest who had only a short service in the mission before God called him away, and whose life had influenced me to a great extent.

There were a lot of hot water springs at this place, and the only thing the house boy had to do for the bath water—you were always compelled to bathe in hot water—was to go outside to one of the hot springs. After staying at Kota Kota till the priest in charge was better I went on to the Island of Likoma, an island in the middle of the Lake. At that time there was a war going on between the natives and the Portuagese. Right throughout their territory the Portuagese had bomas or forts scattered at different centres, ana each of these forts contained one Portuagese and Askari or native soldiers. Now it was the duty of these Portuagese to collect the hut tax from the natives scattered over the area adjacent

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to the particular fort. One day the Bishop sent me over to the mainland in a boat to interview the Portuagese in reference to something connected with the quarrel. It was really very funny, I had to speak in English to a native teacher I had brought with me, and he passed the message on to another native belonging to the fort in another language, and that native handed it on to the Portuagese in a third language. So you really had no idea as to whether the right words ever reached the Portuagese. I must say I was very pleased when the interview was over, especially when 1 heard that later this man shot one of the priests belonging to the mission.

There was a college situated in Portuagese territory, and I was sent over there to help the priest who had charge of it. One morning about 400 natives passed the mission station armed with obselete guns, bows and arrows and all sorts of weird weapons—they were on their way to fight the Portuagese. In the evening we saw them all returning because they heard that the Portuagese were coming. Some time later one Sunday morning the Portuagese came down the Lake and fired on the mission station because they had an idea that we were supplying the natives with ammunition, which was of course not true. They did not kill anyone, but set some of the thatch roofs of the houses afire. We sent down to Fort Johnston and a gunboat—the size of a big steam launch—came up the Lake to settle the question.

The great idea in the mind of the native is to get the best of the white man. They come to sell eggs or a special kind of grass used for thatching the roofs of the houses. One man will bring about 50 eggs, but before purchasing you have to be very careful to test every egg in a basin of water. Another man brings a lot of grass and puts it in heaps on the ground, but you must not pay him till you have turned each heap over, otherwise you might find only proper grass on the top and common grass, no good for thatching, underneath. The new chum in his simplicity and his trust in the native buys eggs and grass without any test and is “had”—to the great joy of the native.

Lake Nyasa has a great many different tribes living round its shores. At first I was working among the Chinyangas and had a servant or boy (what ever

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his age might be) to whom I paid one shilling per week calico (which the natives prefer) for his services. I became very attached to my boy, and when I was moved to a larger village called Mpondas I found the natives there would not allow my “boy” in their village. I was very indignant and when I enquired the reason I found that the Chinyangas had originally been slaves and the Yaos had always been warriors and they would not allow what they considered one of an inferior race to live in their village. So you see there is class distinction every where. My Yao boy was a very smart young man and was robed like most natives only in a loin cloth. One day I presented him with a waistcoat and he was as proud as punch and went about everywhere parading his wonderful acquisition.

I had a rather sad experience at Mpondas. I think the natives are fatalists. If when they are bathing in the river a crocodile seizes one of them they go bathing in the same place just the same as ever. One day when a lot of them were bathing together a crocodile seized a woman by her leg. Another woman came to the rescue and the crocodile let go of the first woman and seized the rescuer by her loin cloth. The crocodiles when they capture anyone generally swim up stream and drown their captive and then bury the victim in the sand to be consumed at a later date. And that is what this crocodile started to do—to swim up stream with the woman. Some of the natives launched a canoe and chased the crocodile and fired at it. There was not much chance of injuring it, but it evidently got frightened and let go the woman, and they picked her up, but sad to relate she was dead—drowned. The other woman had a bad wound in her leg and I went to the Mission Station to get stuff to dress it, but when I came back she had disappeared. The natives are so afraid that you are going to operate, cut their legs off, or something like that, and so they do not let you help them. The village had over 1000 huts, and it was no good trying to find the woman. I never saw her again, and probably the wound mortified and she died.

I have no doubt many people have wondered why my stay in the Mission was such a short one.

It is true I was very poorly when I left the Mission and suffered a good deal for some time after

and may have been compelled to leave in any case, but that was not the real reason. While in England no one could have been kinder than those who were associated with the Mission. As far as those in the Mission Field were concerned I have feelings only of admiration for the wonderful work they were doing and their kindness and courtesy, not only to me, but to each other and this is all the more wonderful when you realise what the climate is and how it has a tendency to affect the nerves and disposition.

When I decided to volunteer for the Mission I had no thoughts that only those of a certain type of churchmanship being acceptable to the Mission and even when I was in England there was nothing to make me imagine that only one type of Anglican was welcome. After I had been a short time in Africa the Bishop spoke to me about my confession and I told him that I had never been to confession and did not see the need of it. He then informed me that the natives had to make their confessions, and if I did not go to confession myself I could not hear their confessions and therefore could not be given the charge of a district.

A little later I wrote to him and asked him to define the teaching of the Church of England regarding confession. In reply he wrote to the man I was working with instead of me and did not answer my question. The man I was working with told me that he did not believe in confession and only went so as to fall into line. I was very amused when he also told me that he made it a condition that his confessions should only refer to things that happened since he landed in Africa.

It is a very good thing that the Church of England is broad enough to contain within its borders men of different schools of thought, but surely there is a limit. Now, on the question of confession, I think our Prayer Book is quite plain that confession is only for those who need it and are willing to use it, whereas in the Roman Communion it is not a question of choice but a compulsory obligation. While in the Mission this was the first occasion on which I had heard of compulsory confession. I never bothered to find out whether it was the rule of the Mission or just the rule of one of the Bishops belonging to the Mission.

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I daresay some people would say, “You ought to have found out all that before linking up with the Mission,” but I had never heard or thought of such a thing in those days.

I do not know if I should have ever made a good missionary as I did not seem to have the gift of languages, but I would have attempted to do the job. It is rather unfortunate that I should have given up a good parish, gone to a lot of expense, cost the Mission a lot of money, and suffered a good deal of illness for such a short service. I can only say how sorry I was, as everything connected with the Mission was an object of admiration. Since those days I have come across many men who have Orders in the Church of England, and on the question of confession and other things are to my mind not only disloyal but also dishonest. It seems a regular farce getting the candidates for ordination and others to sign a declaration saying that they believe the 39 Articles when you know all the time that many of them do not. Some of the Bishops seem to wink at the disloyalty of some of their clergy and others seem afraid to enforce obedience because of the difficulty of keeping their parishes properly staffed.

When I was a young man I started a church union in the Dominion and considered myself an advanced churchman, but I only taught what I honestly believed to be the teaching of the Church of England. To-day the development has been so great that I would be classed as a low churchman, but much of the teaching is Roman rather than Anglican.

When I left Chinde at the mouth of the Zambesi I was very pleased to find that I should be a passenger to Durban in the same German steamer in which I had originally come out upon my arrival. On the steamer—l think called the “Kanzler”—l was informed that the only vacant cabin on the boat was one reserved for Dr. Jameson, who had been up to visit Cedi Rhodes’ tomb and was supposed to join the boat at Beira. There seemed to be a certain amount of uncertainty about the matter as to whether he would go overland or by sea, and so the chief steward said 1 could occupy the cabin for the time being, but of course if Dr. Jameson did join the boat I would have to turn out. I was very glad to get to bed, as I had

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been ill all the time I was waiting at Chinde for the mail boat and still felt very bad. When we arrived at Beira not only was Dr. Jameson there, but Beit, the African millionaire, Lady Sarah Wilson, and the Countess of Howe were also waiting for the Kanzler. Although I was very ill, of course, I had to turn out and I was very much surprised that there was no expression of regret on the part of the noted Dr. Jameson that he was compelled to turn out a sick man. However, I had luckily got on very well with the ship’s staff on the former voyage and when the chief steward realised how ill I was, he insisted on vacating his cabin in my favour. When we reached Durban I had to rest there before I could go on to Capetown and catch a boat for the Dominion. At last I was able to resume my journey for Capetown in one of the Castle liners. There was a very fine doctor on board this boat who helped me a great deal, also he advised me to get into touch with a certain doctor in Capetown who was a specialist in tropical diseases.

On our arrival in Capetown I went to a certain hotel where I had a very small room at 15/- per day. I was in bed practically all the time, and was not well enough to partake of the hotel fare, so it was rather expensive. I shall never forget the kindness of this doctor. He not only attended me regularly, but also sent some of his nurses to look after me, as well as supplying me with medicines. I was wondering how I was ever going to pay him, as my funds were getting rather low, and I was very astonished when I asked him how much I owed him, to be told one guinea—just a nominal charge. Up to that time I had found that quinine, which was supposed to be the cure for fever, never seemed to help me very much. But when I reached Capetown and that doctor studied my case, he put me on arsenic, which eventually cured me.

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CHAPTER XIV.

At last once again I reached the Dominion, and was astonished to find a letter waiting me from my former Bishop who was then on his way to the Old Country, stating that he could not give me any work in the Diocese. He was so annoyed that I had left the Mission, that he did not bother to find out my reasons, or take into consideration all the work 1 had done in the Diocese before I went to Africa. The Archdeacon, who was left in charge of the Diocese during the absence of the Bishop, had known me ever since I was born. In the far past, when he was young and had rather a hard struggle, my people had helped him in many ways. So I naturally thought he would send for me, and at any rate, give me advice. But although I was in bad health, he left me entirely alone. There was another man, who was Vicar of the leading parish, and afterwards became Bishop, who acted quite differently. He not only gave me work, but when I was leaving, and I said I was only worth the part of the stipend on account of inability to fulfil all my obligations owing to bad health he insisted on paying me full fees. To this man, and also my first Vicar, who also had a parish in the city, I owe my most grateful thanks. Some years later the Bishop offered me a parish but I never went back again. When I saw that I was not to get work in my old Diocese, I wrote to another Bishop, who afterwards became Archbishop and put the whole matter before him. He wrote a very nice letter, stating that he quite understood my position, and would be very pleased to give me work in his Diocese. He further stated that the Vicar of the leading parish in the city—who by the way also became Archbishop of the Dominion—was in great need of a curate and hoped I would commence work with him. I immediately did so and a little later settled in his parish. But my sojourn there was very brief, as the continual illness had so affected my voice, that I could not be heard in the church. On consultation with a doctor I was advised to go to the north where the climate was milder, and also to undertake as much open air work as possible. Fortunately, just at that time one of the Bishops was in need of a man to start work in a new district, possessing few church build-

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ings (apart from those belonging to the Maoris) and where it would be necessary to hold services in schools, woolsheds, or any other building convenient for the special needs.

At that time I married the daughter of an English Rector who had come out to the Dominion for a holiday with her clerical brother who had undertaken work in the Colony. Her first experience of the Dominion was rather rough, as the centre of my district was a two-day coach journey, over bad roads, from the nearest town. In winter the roads were so bad that the mails had to be carried on pack-horses, it being quite impossible to use a coach. The district was enormous, which meant being constantly away from home. In the winter it was no unusual thing to ride up to the girths in mud. There was one place where the service was held in a court house. It was an evening service, and after the service was over the policemen would go down to the hotel and serve out drink. Sometimes I went home after the service, which meant a very dangerous ride ending about two or three in the morning. The chief danger was riding over large rocks with a space between rock to rock. It was quite impossible to see anything in the pitch darkness, and the only thing was to leave all to the horse, and I am thankful to say my horse never slipped. On this journey there was also a lot of travelling along the beach and one had to be careful to see that the tides were suitable as the consequences of being caught by a rising tide would have been disastrous. Another danger in that district was a large river which had drowned a good many people. In one part, where there was a crossing, there was a very large white stone, and it was always understood that as long as the top of this stone was visible the river was safe for crossing. One day I came down when the river seemed fairly high but saw that part of the stone was still visible, so decided it was quite safe to cross. As a matter of fact the river was so much in flood that although it was a very large stone the water had moved it, and when I entered the water I found there was no bottom. If your horse has to swim it is usual to slip off the saddle into the water and either hold on to the tail or the stirrup iron, so as to give the horse a better opportunity for swimming. But I had never

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been in a flood before, and was so frightened that I thought that if I once got off the horse I might lose it altogether, and so I stuck to the saddle. Luckily I happened to be riding a horse that was used to the water, and so we came through quite safely. That was my only experience of being in a flooded river, and Ido not want to repeat it. About that time at another part of the same river there was a commercial traveller who was anxious to cross in order to pay a visit to a hotelkeeper on the other side. However, when he saw the condition of the river he decided that it would be wiser not to attempt the crossing. Just at that time some Maoris came along and managed to cross, so he stupidly argued—quite forgetting that the Maoris are experts at the job—that if a Maori could cross so could a white man. The horse he was riding was not used to the river work, and instead of starting to swim when it got into deep water it still tried to touch bottom, so both man and horse were drowned.

In those days a small steamer used to go up and down the coast calling at the various bays and landed cargo per medium of surf boats and would take away wool, etc., for shipment upon the home boats. As the roads were often bad I thought what a splendid idea it would be if I could obtain a free pass from the company to travel in this boat from one part of my large district to another whenever it was possible. So I wrote to the Manager about the matter and was very pleased when I got a reply stating that the company would be very pleased to comply with my request. On special occasions the large boats would call at any of the bays if there were sufficient passengers to make it a paying proposition. When one of the English football teams was visiting the Dominion some of the people in the place in which I resided thought it would be a great idea if they could get the large boat to call so that they could see the Englishmen play. So they went round the place trying to get the sufficient number of promises to attain their ambition. When they came to me I said I was too busy; unfortunately others were also unable to spare the time or money, so the proposition fell through. About that time the small boat came into the bay and I decided to go up the coast in the steamer instead of riding. However,

no sooner had we put to sea than a very bad gale sprung up and the boat had to run before it and eventually arrived in the place where the great football match was being held, so I was the only one who did see the football match. The people always said that I had squared the captain, whereas, as a matter of fact, I was so very sea-sick that I decided not to return in the small boat, but pay my passage in the large boat to the nearest large centre and ride up the coast. We got to the town about mid-day and I hired a horse and started up the coast at once with a number of commercial travellers. We arrived about 10 p.m. at a place which is about half-way from where I resided. There was a large river at this place which had to be crossed by means of a ferry. We all stayed on our horses while on the ferry and when we reached the other side jumped off one after the other. It is usual to tie the ferry to a post on to the bank as soon as it gets across, but on this occasion the ferryman omitted to do so. I was the last to leave the ferry and just as my horse started to jump the ferry rushed out into the river and so did we, and we both had to swim out at different places. When we called to the ferryman to bring the ferry for us to cross he called out: “This is red-hot bringing me out at this time of night.” When I got out I said: “This is red-hot putting me in the river at this time of night.” The hotelkeeper kindly lent me dry clothes, but as he was a very big man I looked quite funny in his trousers. That was the only time I tried to use my free pass, and it was rather an expensive experience.

I stayed on the Coast for over three years and although I was twice offered positions in other parts of the Dominion I refused them. Partly because my travelling expenses had been paid when I first came to the district and did not think it fair to resign without giving fair service in return and also because I thought it wiser to get the fever quite out of my system before attempting any heavier responsibility.

Anyone reading this picture of the Coast as it was in those days and comparing it with conditions existing today would be inclined to accuse me of exaggerating.

The difficulty in those days was that there was no metal in the district to form roads. Later an influential resident got into parliament and used his.

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influence to get outside help. Material was imported and proper roads formed and as a result, what often used to take days of difficult travelling can now be accomplished in a motor in about three hours. After I had been over three years in charge of this district I got two appeals—one, to take charge of a seaport parish for a year while the Vicar took a trip to the Old Country, and two, to take charge of another parish for six months for another Vicar who was getting married and also going Home for a trip. I then decided to leave the coast and relieve the man who was getting married for three months and then take the other for a year. It was rather interesting because the parish that I was taking charge of for three months was the place in which I was bom, and this fact brought back many recollections. I specially remember something which happened when I was very young. There were some people who lived near my home who had a very fat red-faced cook. One day when I was calling at this house this cook said that if I would allow her to kiss me she would give me some nice cake. Just in the middle of the performance my brothers rushed out laughing from different corners where they had been hiding and I retired weeping, realising it was a put up job. It is funny, this occurred 65 years ago and I can picture it all in my mind as if it had only happened yesterday.

In our Ancient and Modem Hymn Books there is always a text at the head of each hymn. Hymn 28S, “A few more years shall roll,’” had a text “The time is short.” At one time there was a dear old parson in charge of this place who always made a point of giving out the number of the hymn and then the text at the top. One Sunday when he had this hymn 288, he evidently thought it was rather long, so he said, “Hymn 288, only verses 1, 2, and 3, and then without realising how funny it would sound, he gave out the text, “The time is short.” When I lived at this place as a small boy it had a lot of bush, and the cows, all had bells hanging round their necks to let their owners know where they were in the bush, and walking through the bush one would hear the bells ringing all over the place. When I returned many years later, houses had replaced the bush and it was a large centre of population and an influential suburb of the capital of the Dominion.

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CHAPTER XV.

After a very happy and enjoyable three months I went on to the seaport parish further south. Although quite a small township it had two parishes. A clergyman who had resided there many years before and who was very interested in the welfare of the men on the la’ge number of sailing ships which came to this port for the wool and grain, thought that they ought to have a special parson to look after their welfare, so he left an endowment for this object and another parish was established. Time brought changes and steamers replaced the sailing ships and they were much larger and brought fewer sailors and their stay in port was not so long and the need for a parson to look after the special interests of the sailors was not so great. However, the two parishes remained and they each found it very difficult to make both ends meet. The church I had charge of was the old parish church, with a wonderful history attached to it dating from the arrival of the first four ships containing the Pilgrims who formed the Canterbury Association. The church itself was beautiful and the books attached to it contained names that are now historical. One of the duties of the Vicar was to visit the prison—which has since been pulled down—call Saturday afternoon to give each prisoner the chance of an interview, and each Sunday morning at 10 a.m. to take a service. I remember one nice little man—a bricklayer by trade—who used to interview me. He was a thief and he told me that it was a fixed habit now and he could not help it. When he was a lad in London he used to help in a shop and his employer was in the habit of taking a nap after lunch and used to leave this lad in charge. He thought how easy it would be to steal, and so he began to take pennies out of the till, but one day he was caught and got turned out. Instead of it being a warning it only made him resolve to be more carefui in his stealing and so he went on from one thing to another till at last he created a habit which he could not overcome. Such a nice little man who had ruined his life. The prisoners loved the service on the Sunday, especially the singing, not so much, I honestly believe, because of the religious help, but because it broke the routine and monotony of their life. They

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chose their own hymns and it was quite amusing to see the kind of hymns they chose. I remember one especially, 273, that they were very fond of having, which contains these words, “The world without may rage, but we will cling more close to Thee.” There was a man in prison at that time, I got to know him very well later when he came out, who was a wonderful illuminator. When I took the service on Christmas Day the prisoners presented me with a Christmas Card prepared by this man which I still possess and greatly value.

To my mind the distinction between those who have been in prison, and those who have not, is too great. There are certain sins that are punishable by law and others that are not. Often the latter kind of sins are worse and do more damage than the former. I know it is wrong to steal, but it is much worse to ruin people’s characters by slander and gossip.

There was a certain amount of rivalry between the two parishes in the seaport and the Vicar of the other parish, although really he was not such a very fine man, certainly made a greater appeal to the general public. When I arrived he came to call upon me and informed me that he was the Pooh Bah of the place, and that I must mind my P’s and Q’s. But I had made up my mind that I was going to do all that I possibly could to help the absent Vicar whom I represented. I remember when I arrived I found a good choir of women but only one man. When I spoke to him about it he informed me that he had always been there alone and seemed to quite resent the idea of getting anyone else to help him. However, after a certain amount of work, not only a number of men volunteered to join the choir, but some one kindly came each week out from the city nearby to train them. There was a cemetery attached to the parish which was supposed to have a credit balance of £5O. But as a.matter of fact although it appeared in the balance-sheet each year it was really non-existent—-having been used for ordinary parish expenditure and never replaced. In order that the parish might be able to refund this amount and also pay other pressing liabilities I organised a Flower Show, which was very successful, and also accomplished all that it set out to do. Although it is many years ago since this Show

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was first instituted it has been held yearly in this parish ever since. My inability to realise that the other Vicar was really a Pooh Bah caused a certain amount of friction, but he was a man with a large heart, and so when I eventually left the parish we parted very good friends.

My next work was the charge of a large country district containing ten different centres in which services were held. The only way to work this large parish was to take services on one side one Sunday and leave the other side to lay readers, and then the next Sunday to reverse the order. Of course even in this way some places could only have an occasional service. When I was appointed to this parish I received a letter from the Bishop stating that there was £2OO available for an assistant if I would try to obtain one. There was a great shortage of clergy in the Dominion at that time and so it meant sending home to the Old Country to try and obtain the required assistance. After a certain time spent in negotiations, a young man at last arrived to start the work, but unfortunately he was quite unsuitable for the sort of work one had to do in the large country districts of the Dominion. It was before the age of motor-cars and this young man had had no experience with horses. One Sunday afternoon he was driving a quiet little pony to a place where he was supposed to take a service. By the roadside there was a very nice grassy place which the pony thought it would like eat, and so it stopped in order to do so. For some reason this young man could not get the pony to move and he did not like to use force, so there they stayed and the people waited in vain for their service. When he arrived in the Dominion he brought his mother with him to look after him. On one occasion we were holding sports in one centre of the district and I asked him to judge the races. He decided that one race had ended in a dead-heat, but the onlookers thought otherwise and said, “We could have easily picked the winner.” He was so offended that he ran off to his mother and refused to assist any more.

Unfortunately he had something wrong with the roof of his mouth which was a great impediment when speaking or preaching. Altogether I could see that he was quite unsuitable for the work and at the end of

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the three months I advised him that it would be much better if he returned to the Old Country. In those days the clergy only received their stipend every three months and just before the end of the three months I went to the Church Office to get a quarter of that £2OO which I was told was available for a curate. I was very much astonished to be informed that there was no money at the office for that purpose. The Bishop at that time had a breakdown in health and so could not be approached, and as I was compelled to go home to England myself I could not wait, so I had to pay this young man out of my own pocket. Some time later I found out how the mistake had occurred. The Bishop had sent a former Vicar all over the district to see if the people could afford to pay an additional clergyman. Instead of going round and finding out how much extra they could afford to give, he assessed them only in his own mind, and then came back and said, “Yes, the district could afford £2OO extra.” I got the letter stating that the £2OO was available and naturally imagined it was there in actuality and acted on that assumption and I never got that £5O repaid . . . While I was in charge of the district I had to keep a gig and two good horses, and it took me all my time to do the work. Just before I left, the district was cut in half, and a man much younger than myself was appointed to half of it and because the diocese thought it was too much for him to do they presented him with a motor-car.

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CHAPTER XVI.

The last time I went to England it was by way of America and so this time we made up our minds to go via Canada. But before starting I decided to write to the Vicars of the various places in Canada which I hoped to visit, telling them that I was coming. I asked each one of them if he would be kind enough to write to me at Vancouver letting me know the best place to stay at, what to see, etc. It was wonderful the response I got to these letters and the help that they gave me—a stranger in a strange land. The one thing which impressed me more than anything else was the visit to Paterson Smyth at Montreal. I possessed all his books and it was such a splendid thing to see and talk to that great author. The Vicar of the principal church in Toronto who had only lately arrived from England and also his curate both went out of their way to make our visit a success. But it was rather funny to find when we got to Toronto that the place which we were advised to stay at had since been pulled down. While at Toronto we once again visited Niagara. The trip across the Lake was lovely but the tram which ran along the cliff above the river was full of workers belonging to a large factory in Toronto, and they were so lively that it was very uncomfortable. Also it shortened our stay at the falls as the tram did not run very frequently and we thought that if we left the return journey too late the returning excursionists exhilarated by liquid refreshment might be too lively altogether.

I am afraid that my expectations as to what Quebec would be like had been too high and I was a little disappointed. The hotel which we were recommended to patronise turned out to be conducted in the French style. Everything seemed to be floating in oil and after one meal we decided to change our quarters. We paid a visit to a Roman Catholic Shrine where miracles of healing were performed—St. Anne de Beauprex—and the church was full of crutches, spectacles, etc., left by those who had been cured. There was a representation of the stairs Our Lord ascended going to the Judgment Hall and there was a notice at the foot stating that you were requested to ascend on your knees. We decided to go up some back

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stairs. When we were standing at the top a regular John Bull came along and stamped up the stairs in total disregard of the notice. When he reached the top he said to me in pigeon English “Can you speak English.” The weather was so hot in Quebec that it made me quite ill and I had to retire to my bed. We were quite pleased when the time arrived to move on.

There is one incident during this voyage which I must not forget to mention.

When we reached Honolulu, one of the first things we decided to do, was to pay a visit to the Cathedral. When we entered the building we saw a cleric clothed in “white ducks.”

I imagined that it was probably the curate, so I thought I would have a chat with him about the work on the island, but after a few minutes’ conversation I found that I was talking to the Bishop.

During my ministry I have come in contact with a great many bishops—good, bad and indifferent—but without exception this was the kindest and most courteous prelate with whom I have ever come in contact.

When he found that we were strangers—just passing through—he insisted on taking us to his home, feeding and looking after us in every way.

When our boat eventually left, he escorted us down to the wharf and saw us safely on board.

As I write these words I am a very old man and I have been in retirement for a number of years, and whenever I think of this man it always leaves a. sweet taste in my mouth.

Some short time ago a new bishop was consecrated to a diocese in another part of this Dominion. Someone wrote to me and stated that his first action as bishop was to visit all the old, infirm, and retired clergy in his diocese.

I could not help remarking, “Well, that man has a heart.”

We left Quebec in a boat called the “Virginia” belonging to the Allan Line. When we were travelling down the St. Lawrence we struck one of the most terrible thunder storms I have ever experienced—in fact it was so bad that the steamer had to stop till it was all over.

The most striking thing in connection with this

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voyage was the fog. We started with a fog and it accompanied us all the voyage till we reached Liverpool. There is something very uncanny travelling at high speed in a dense fog, with the fog-horn sounding every few minutes—night and day. As our cabin was right down in the depth of the ship, if anything had happened we could not possibly have reached the deck in time to be saved. I was told later that the strain of the voyage was so great for the captain that he died a little later and one can well imagine the possibility of such a thing. These boats have to make quick passages and the responsibility associated with the safety of many hundreds of passengers must have been very great—it was not surprising that he found it too much to bear. I knew we were all glad when the journey came to an end.

My father-in-law had been a Rector in Norfolk for a great many years and we made his home the centre of our movements. One could not have a greater contrast than a colonial town and an old English village. He kept a carriage and a fine pair of horses and suggested that I should drive him out and so relieve his coachman for other duties. But I was only allowed to act as coachman once as he was so horrified to see me dashing along with slack reins every moment expecting one of the horses to slip and injure itself that he said “Never again.” He told me that I did not realise the difference in value of our colonial horses and those belonging to the homeland. I am afraid there was something else that shocked him a great deal—the habit we have in the Dominion of having morning as well as afternoon tea which he thought an unnecessary extravagance. However, it was lovely staying there and helping in the various churches in the different villages round about. Norfolk is the country of churches and there were many very fine churches which seemed to be dotted about everywhere, evidently built in an age very different to the present when people seem to prefer to spend their money on other things very different from religious objects.

It was with much regret that I felt compelled to take a position once again, but fortunately under an old friend in the Black Country. Here again there was quite a contrast—thick population in the midst of poor and dirty surroundings but in the midst of people with

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very warm hearts. It is rather an extraordinary thing that this part of England was the home of the Men’s Bible Class Movement. Close to the parish in which I was working there was a weekly Bible Class for men with a regular attendance of 350. I was so captivated with the movement that I decided to start a class in the parish in which I was working and within a few months I had got an attendance of well over 100 each Sunday afternoon, but of course these people did not possess motor cars and other things to entice them away.

When I had been working in this place for some months I received a letter from my Bishop in the Dominion asking if I would return and offering me one of three places. As I had finished the work I had come Home to do and I found the English winter very trying I decided to return and I accepted the parish offering the smallest stipend—-£lBO p.a. because it was close to the centre of the diocese. Our return journey via Australia was quite uneventful and there was only one thing out of the ordinary. As I was acting, as Chaplain during the voyage I was responsible for the services. Although we were travelling by the Orient Company the special boat we had taken our journey on was chartered from a South American Company. In the charter of that company there was a rule that the Chaplain was to be paid a guinea for each Sunday morning service. It was very hot weather during the voyage and the captain decided to dispense with the sermon so I got a great surprise at the end of the voyage when the purser handed me six guineas and told me why he had to do so; that has never happened to me since.

Everyone remembers the mysterious disappearance of the “Waratah” and rumour states that she was top-heavy and rolled over. Well, I would not have been surprised if the boat in which we were travelling in had rolled over. She was very narrow and rolled in such a way that it made one shudder and wonder if she would recover herself or decide to finish the roll by going right over. We were very lucky, however, and had a very calm passage, and so probably escaped a disaster. I think so much depends upon circumstances—we talk of a boat being a good sea boat and not rolling very much and another boat being exactly the reverse but probably under similar conditions both boats would act in pretty well the same way.

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CHAPTER XVII.

The parish of which I was now appointed Vicar had its centre on the outer part of a harbour. It was fairly large in area but with a small and scattered population. I found that by regular and systematic visiting it only needed three days’ work to look after the parish affairs and as there was a certain amount of land attached to the Vicarage and my stipend was not very large I decided to use the other three days of the week in growing vegetables to sell in the sea-port which was about five miles away. In the course of a few months I had a fairly large vegetable garden and what with that and the fruit which already belonged to the place I had managed to work up a good connection with the firms that supplied the shipping that came to the port. Soon after I was given charge of this district I had a visit from the fruit inspecter who informed me that my trees needed attention and that if they were not attended to I should be fined. Later early one morning I was informed that some one wanted to see me, and having a guilty conscience I thought it was the fruit inspector coming to pay me a second visit and as I had not complied with his request I came forward expecting to receive a notice of a fine. However I was rather astonished and very much relieved to find that it was the churchwarden from one of the town parishes. He informed me that their Vicar had decided to pay a visit to the Homeland and had obtained the services of an old retired clergyman to relieve him during his absence. The vestry thought that he was too old and that he could not be heard in the church and so their vicar told them if they were not satisfied with his choice to find some one themselves. They had heard of my work in other places and so decided to see if I would act as locum tenens during their Vicar’s absence—hence the visit. I said I should have to consult the Bishop before making any decision, but promised to let them have an answer as soon as possible. When I interviewed the Bishop he informed me that if I accepted the temporary parish I should have to resign from the charge of my parish. I informed him that I did not care to resign my charge for mere temporary work, although it was much more important, unless I had a promise of some posi-

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tion at the end of my locum tenancy. After a certain amount of discussion he told me that he was forming a new parish in the town and that I could be the first Vicar of that new centre. So with this promise in my mind I decided to accept the temporary charge of this large town parish containing a very beautiful church. I took up my residence in the Vicarage at a difficult point in the history of the parish. All the dioceses in the Dominion had combined together to hold what they termed a General Mission, conducted by leading clergymen from different parts of the Homeland. But some months before the Mission started each large centre of population had a visit from two priests who were termed forerunners. Shortly after my arrival in this parish these forerunners also arrived. And from that date till the arrival of the Missioner specially appointed to this parish it meant long and heavy work in order to organise and prepare in order that the Mission might be successful.

There were a number of different Missioners with various degrees of churchmanship, some of them what might be termed advanced churchmen. A number of laymen who were afraid of the teaching these men gave combined together and issued a magazine in which among other things they gave a table of high church societies to which each of these men belonged. The man who was set apart to be our Missioner according to this table seemed to be one of the most advanced of all the Missioners and in some parts of the Dominion the parishes to which he was set apart to visit refused to have him and asked for some one else not so high. Some weeks before his arrival in the parish I had a deputation from the parishioners begging me to get the Bishop to send some one else instead of the appointed Missioner. I informed the deputation that this Missioner had been specially chosen to minister to us and that I thought it would be very discourteous, quite apart from everything else to ask for another Missioner, and I therefore refused to take any action. The Missioner arrived and in a very short while had all his objectors metaphorically eating out of his hands. He was a most wonderful success, at any rate, as far as this parish was concerned.

Although the Vicar was away he left a very fine curate behind and his assistance in the preparation for the Mission helped me very much.

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When I had been in charge of this parish for a few months one day I met some one who said, “Do you know that the Bishop is forming a new parish and has offered it to . . . ?” I said, “Why he promised it to me.” I wrote to the Bishop and told him that I had been told that . . . had been appointed to the new parish and said I was very upset as he had already promised it to me. I got a reply stating that he had no recollection of ever mentioning the subject to me. I really did not know what to do so I just did nothing. It is really wonderful how things right themselves. Just when I was wondering what I should do about my future a cable came to the Vestry from the Vicar in England stating that he was feeling very poorly and could they persuade me to stay on and assist him. The curate was going to take charge of a neighbouring parish, and after that, going to work in England in order to obtain further experience. So the Vicar would be without any assistance if I also left. However, as the Vestry made me a very good offer and I thought it an honour to work under Canon ... I accepted the offer. I think the year I spent as assistant to this man was one of the happiest in my life. He was a truly Christian gentleman, always considerate to those who were helping him. During the year he gradually got worse and decided to resign from the charge of the parish which he had been Vicar of for over thirty years, loved and respected by everyone.

There is a very amusing story told about him during his residence at . . . ; the Bishop suggested to him that it might be advisable for him to have a change of cures. When asked the reason he was told in order that he might have fresh people to minister to. He replied, “Well, if that is the only reason I think I will stay as the people are changing here every two or three years so I am always seeing fresh faces.”

When a parish is vacant three nominators appointed by the parish meet three nominators appointed by the diocese and they vote as to who should be appointed Vicar out of the nominations received. Should there be two people each receiving three votes then the Bishop has the casting or deciding vote. The Vicar of one of the leading town parishes had one of the diocesan nominators on his vestry and one day when I met him—without any mention of the subject

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by me—he said mentioning this vestrymen, “I am going to get so and so to vote to you.” When the meeting was held to elect the new Vicar I was fortunate enough to receive the appointment. Later this vestryman was having afternoon tea at a house with some other people and although it was altogether irregular to speak about the election of a Vicar he told those present how each one of the nominators voted. The three parochial nominators and one diocesan nominator had voted for me—another had refused to vote because he considered that a man who had been acting as locum tenens never ought to be Vicar of the same parish. Then he went on to say that at the special request of his Vicar he had nominated . . . Needness to say I never had much to do with that clergyman again after such doublefaced action.

When I was working in Staffordshire I happened to be stationed close to one of the best organised parishes in England. The Vicar, Sir Lovelace Stamer, afterwards Bishop of Shrewsbury, had built a number of Mission Churches round the Parish Church which acted as feeders to it. I decided to copy this idea in in a modified form in my new Parish.

One Mission Church had already been built and this one was enlarged and in the course of time two other Mission centres were gradually started. The last Mission Church to be built had the honour of receiving subscriptions from Lord Salisbury and the Duke of Leinster, but the first job actually accomplished was the erection of a Club Room for young men and it was rather wonderful where the first ten pounds came from. I became very interested in a man who had cancer in the face and who was living in a bach and trying to cure himself with quack remedies. I tried to persuade him to go to a doctor and see if anything could 1 be done to give him real help.

One day he walked into my study and put down £lO on the table and said, “That is for the Church,” and then gave me a deed box with all his papers and told me that he had made arrangements to be nursed and treated by doctors and he wanted me to look after his affairs. I immediately took the box to the Bank for safe custody. The poor old man had left matters too late and he did not last very long. As soon as he passed away I handed over his affairs to the Public

Trustee. Later I found that he had left quite a lot of property which went to relations in Scotland. I have no idea how they found out that I had been interested in this poor old man but I got a very nice letter from them.

Now it was this £lO which formed the nucleus of my fund for a Club Room. I got other people to follow this lead and very soon got a nice Club Room built. The school-room was very old and out-of-date. Among other things there was no accommodation or means for boiling water for meetings and socials, so that on each occasion a copper had to be hired. A certain young man who generally used to arrange these matters was also in charge of the youths of the Parish for a Bible Class, etc., and often these youths were inclined to be unruly. On one occasion when we were having a social I asked him to arrange about a copper. When the evening came I said to him, “Did you get the copper?” He said, Yes,” and presented me to a policeman. His thoughts were centred on unruly youths and not tea.

However, in the course of time we raised a sum of money and built part of a new school-room containing a kitchen, etc.

When I arrived in the Parish there was a dear old Verger who had been associated with the Parish for a good many years. There was a certain church hanging called an antependium which was attached to the pulpit for special occasions. Just before one of the Festivals the Verger came to me and said, “Shall I put the antedeluvian on the Pulpit ?” I replied, “Yes,” but had the greatest difficulty in keeping a straight face and not upsetting the old fellow. And that reminds me of another story about Vergers. Some years ago a doctor friend of mine sent me a framed picture which I think he must have got out of Punch. It is the picture of two Vergers who were having their morning glass of beer together in a pub. One said, “We have matins in our Church. What do you have ?” The other replied, “We only have linoleum.”

When the old verger retired he was succeeded by a man with a very kind heart, always willing to help whenever and wherever possible, but sometimes lacking in commonsense. I remember one day he had been cleaning away weeds and rubbish in the church-yard

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and started a fire in which to burn them. Before leaving he tidied up the place putting the remains from the fire in the wheelbarrow. When he came the next morning he was quite astonished to find that the only part of the barrow remaining was the iron wheels.

My boy, who was a member of the Young Men’s Bible Class managed to purchase a motor car for £8 10s. in which to take some members of the Class to the country for a few days. The Verger rather fancied this car and persuaded my boy to sell it to him for £8 10s. He then decided to do it up and took a lot of trouble in redecorating and painting it. When it was all finished the next thing to do was to fill it up with petrol which he started to do, but also decided to light his pipe at the same time. The result must have astonished him very much as car and owner suddenly went up in the air to the extinction of the car and injury to the owner. The following appeared in the paper:

JOURNEYS END”

Ecclesiastical Car that Fell from Grace

An old ramshackle motor-car that came into the possession of a Clergyman’s son a few weeks ago had a short and chequered career.

Though dilapidated, it was a bargain as bargains go; except that this bargain wouldn’t go, and refused to move until certain internal operations had been performed.

The new owner, knowing little about the ways of cars, allowed it to run into several posts during the few weeks that he had it. His ecclesiastical father, who was persuaded to risk life and limb in one short journey, went no further than the post which was narrowly missed at the first corner.

And it came to pass after the third week that the chariot was sold to the Verger of the Church to which the young man’s father belonged. Now this Verger was, like the car, past the prime of life, but he still enjoyed the smoke from the leaf called tobacco. His pipe was unto his mouth while he examined the tank for the juice called petrol, and 10, tongues of a consum-

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ing fire leapt out at him and caused his moustache to be burned off even unto his lip.

And that was why two fire engines were rushed to Bordesley Street, Linwood, late on Saturday afternoon.

And that was also why the verger did not put in an appearance at the Church next day.

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CHAPTER XVIII.

The organ in the Church was hand-blown for many years till the Parish had the means to pay for the introduction of an electric blower. One day the young man who was paid to do this special work of organ-blower absented himself and we had to call upon the verger to fill the gap. At the end of the sermon I gave out the hymn 186, “I could not do without Thee.” Instead of the organ starting there was a dead silence. On enquiry I found that my eloquence was so great that the verger had gone off to sleep.

On another occasion one of the senior Choir boys was commandeered for this job. His mother, who had a beautiful voice, had been asked to sing a solo but he did not know this. When it came to the time for the solo to start the organ seemed to be quite out of action. Later when the service was over the organist went to see what was wrong and he found that this youth, out of devilment had taken all the weights off the bellows. But the lad was very upset, as well as being well punished, when he found that he had spoiled his mother’s solo.

We had a Junior and Senior boys’ and also girls’ Bible Classes in the Parish, that is four altogether, and each of these classes had a club night during the week. I remember one one occasion I had charge of the Junior boys, about 18 youths between 14 and 16 years of age. At that time the Club was lit by gas, before the day') of electric light. When it was time to close I told the boys to all go out and I turned out the light. However when I came to the door I found that it was shut and these demons were packed together against it so that it was impossible for me to open it and get out.

I did not say a word but quietly slipped across the room, jumped out of one of the windows and the next thing they heard and felt was a stick descending on their hind quarters. I never had any more trouble after that.

At one time one of my curates took these youths on a Sunday afternoon for their class and one Sunday he found them rather unruly and hard to manage. So at the end of the lesson he said, “Now, boys, I am going to punish you for your bad behaviour, and on this occasion I am not going to take any of your

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pennies.” It was rather a peculiar, but probably popular form of punishment, but the poor missionary box was the chief sufferer.

After I had been in charge of this large parish for some time I found that it was not only getting too large for me to manage but I found it almost impossible to get colleagues to assist me in the work. So I approached the Bishop and asked that the parish might be divided and the portion cut off formed into a new Parochial District. When I put the position clearly before him he coincided and so after the necessary steps had been taken this was accomplished. The new district contained two Mission churches, both having very good Sunday Schools and both at different centres.

After this new parish had been in existence for some time it was decided to move both these Mission rooms to a common centre and a good deal of money was spent in order to accomplish this and later,a large sum of money was borrowed (and I believe none of it has ever been repaid) in order to build a Vicarage. I am quite certain that if the missions had never been moved and a permanent Church had been built in the centre of the district, instead of the Vicarage, the result would have been better.

In two or three instances large sums of money have been advanced to different parishes far beyond the capacity of the parishes to ever repay, and this fact has disheartened the parishioners and to a certain extent brought discredit upon the Church.

Very close to the Church there was a very large bowling club and the members approached me with the suggestion that there should be a Church parade of the club each year, and naturally I was only tco pleased to agree with the suggestion. One year, very unfortunately, there was a serious disagreement between the president and one of the committee of the bowling club which ended in a fight on the green, and it was so bad that the doctor had to be called in to minister to the combatants. The Church parade happened to be arranged for the next Sunday, and I had not heard anything about the disagreement and fight. We usually started the service with a hymn, and on this occasion I said, “We shall begin the service by singing that well-known hymn, ‘Fight the good fight with all thy might.’ ” The bowlers thought that I had

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done this out of devilment, not knowing that I had no idea of what had been happening on the green during the week and there was a great roar of laughter, quite out of keeping with the Church. The next morning there was a very good skit in the paper couched in bowling terms.

At one period of my residence in this parish I developed a great mania for keeping goats and I tried to persuade my parishioners to do likewise. Also at this time I made up my mind to join a Masonic Lodge, and in the course of time I was duly initiated. At the supper, held after the meeting, when my health was being proposed, I thought that I would make use of my mania in my reply. But unfortunately for me the man who was proposing my health also knew of this and he took the wind out of my sails and told the members that they were to be congratulated upon obtaining such a zealous member. He possessed some goats and had been practising for some time. The funny part about it was that the man sitting next to me accepted the statement literally and believed .’t. He said, “Have you really been doing so.” I soon got very sick of the sight of goats but for many a long day the Vicar’s goats were a standing joke in the Parish.

Talking of goats, I remember hearing the story about a small Masonic Lodge that met in a small country village. There were not enough members to afford to build a Lodge room, so they usually met in the local school, and where they were allowed a certain amount of room for their cupboards in which they kept their regalia, etc. - The wives were naturally interested in their husbands’ doings and thought that it would be nice to clean up the room before the meeting. The men were delighted with the idea, but told the ladies that they must not investigate the cupboards on any account. But, remembering that natural curiosity which often exists in the female mind, they thought it would be wise to provide against any such contingency, and so they got a large billy-goat and put it in one of the cupboards. The ladies arrived at the school and all went well for a time, but at last the temptation became too great and someone opened the cupboard. Wasn’t there a commotion, the women rushing out of the school, one after the other, and the

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poor old billy-goat so scared that his main thought was to escape as soon as possible.

I suppose there never has been a parson who has managed to please all his parishioners. In fact I do not think it would be a very good sign if he did so. If one really does one’s duty you cannot help sometimes treading on someone’s corns. Also many parishes have what is usually called a snag.

Well, in my parish I had a snag, someone who never seemed to be satisfied with anything that I did. At last when I had been in the parish for a good many years someone told me that this snag had stated that it was time that they made the Vicar move on and he was going to see about it.

Every parish has its ups and downs more or less, and I do not think that my parish was any exception to the general rule. However, at that time everything seemed to be going exceptionally well, and there did not seem any special reason why I should be asked to move on except that I had displeased this man more than usual. This man also happened to have a certain amount of influence with those in authority. It is rather a peculiar thing, although it may have only been a coincidence, but I had a visit from some one who was at that time closely associated with the Bishop and he brought me a message from the Bishop stating that, as I had had a strenuous time for many years in the charge of this large parish he thought it would be nice if I took the charge of so and so (a small parish in the country). Now, no one had come to see how everything was going on in the parish and how I felt. I had only had this indirect message. I asked some of the nominators if they had been consulted and they told me that they had heard nothing about it. I was also told that one of the reasons they wanted me to go to this particular place was because its parishioners wanted a gentleman.

Of course I refused because I did not see any reason or need for the change.

But the funny part came later when I was asked by the Church authorities to add to my already large parish the management of another fairly large one which had fallen on bad days. And later still, when I had patched this up to a certain extent I was asked to change from my present parish to another which

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was perhaps double the size. I was quite willing to undertake the new work and accepted, but my parishioners thought otherwise and within a few days got up a petition of over 1000 names begging me to stay with them.

Now I think one reason for this large and spontaneous petition was because out of kindness of their hearts they thought I was too old to undertake this new work. But I could not very well refuse the request of my parishioners, and so I cancelled my acceptance of the new parish and stayed on at . . . till it was time for me to give up work altogether. But I have often laughed over the attempt that was made to move me to a small country place when everything was going well, for the rather poor reason that I needed a rest and then later give me additional work.

During the worst part of the depression, which seemed to affect the whole world, I was very distressed at the number of men who could not get work and had not even enough money for food and lodging.

I thought it was the duty of the Church to do something for these men and urged upon the Bishop and those closely connected with social activities of the Church that we ought to provide a shelter for these men where they could obtain food and lodging.

I remember very well at a meeting which was called to discuss the matter, I was asked by the Bishop as to what we should do if we purchased a property to deal with this matter and found that we could not get enough to pay for it, and I promptly replied: “Shut up the Church.”

However, I found a property that would just suit the need and collected enough money to make it secure and the clergyman who was in charge of the social work of the Church has been able to do many wonderful deeds there since that day.

Some time later the Bishop came to me and asked if I could do something to help a parish that financially was in a very critical condition. At the time this request was made the depression had become accentuated and I did not think that the usual appeal for help would meet with much success. But I did think that a request for a small uniform sum might meet with success. I therefore drew up a circular in which I stated that the Bishop had asked me to raise some

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funds to help a certain parish that was in financial difficulties, and I decided to send this circular to each person on the telephone list and ask for one shilling. Unfortunately I did not state that the parish belonged to the Church of England. There was an immediate response and among those who sent donations there were some belonging to the Roman Communion. On the Sunday succeeding the issue of the circular a notice was given out in all the Roman Catholic Churches warning the members of the congregations that the circular referred to the Church of England.

The owner of a shop in the centre of the city had been kind enough to allow me to mention his shop as a place where donations could be left.

On the Monday following the Sunday on which the Roman Catholics referred to the circular a very indignant woman came to this shop and demanded 2/which she inferred had been obtained from her under false pretences. She was ! a member of the Roman Communion and had given 2/- imagining that the circular referred to her Communion. She was told that the money had been handed over to me and so in the evening she paid me a visit. I apologised to her for the misunderstanding and said it was quite unintentional and handed her the 2/-. She said she did not believe that it was unintentional and that we were out just to make money for ourselves and not for the Church at all. She further stated that she did not want the money and would throw it in the gutter so that I should not have it.

The owner of the shop was very worried as he was frightened that this incident might injure his business if some action was not taken. I immediately wrote to the Roman Catholic Bishop and explained how the mistake had arisen and also apologised. In return I received a most courteous kind letter stating that he quite understood and that I was not to worry any longer. I have twice received letters from this Bishop and they have been the kindest letters I have ever received.

The man who owned the business and was helping me was quite satisfied and so the matter ended. But I just quote the incident to show how careful one must be in matters like this to make the position quite clear.

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The amount raised was only about £9O, but no one can realise the amount of labour expended on this somewhat small realisation. However, when one considers the times and the amount asked and received from most of the contributors it really meant that a large number of people responded to the appeal. Whether the result would have been better if a specified sum had not been named is questionable when one remembers the dreadful depression.

One one occasion the high church dignitary had a great brain-wave to get a certain number of the clergy to each preach a course of four sermons in . . . . and he was kind enough to include me in the list. He suggested to one of the men chosen that he should take the four Sunday evenings in Advent for his course, and that he himself would occupy his pulpit in return. The Vicar told him that before agreeing to do this he must consult his vestry. Later this man ’phoned him and said that the vestry thought that the sacrifice would be too great. He was told in reply not to bother about his vestry, but to come. However, he met with the further reply that the man also thought the sacrifice too great. The originator of this scheme rang me up and told me all about it and ended in saying; “Now you will not desert me.”

About that time something special had happened which seemed to lend itself to the occasion, and I spent a good many hours in reading up and preparing my subject. But, wonderful to relate, I never heard another word in reference to the matter and no explanation or apology for the change of plans, so all my labour went for nothing.

It is extraordinary how many people, especially in the Old Country, object to using that word “Goodbye.” Often when I have been parting with someone and have ended the conversation with the expression: “Well, goodbye,” there has come the response NOT goodbye, only “farewell.”

Both are beautiful words and mean a great deal if spoken sincerely.

In modem conversation there are so many expressions that are used in rather a thoughtless or superficial manner. For instance, someone greets us with the words: “It is a fine day” and we answer, “Yes.” A little later we meet someone else who says:

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“Isn’t it a nasty day?” and, without any thought, out comes the same answer, “Yes.”

One of the most artificial customs we have is that of singing when the health of the bridal couple is proposed at a wedding breakfast, “For he is a jolly good fellow.” It is a beautiful idea for the friends of the newly-married couple to unite in wishes of goodwill and happiness for these young people in their new venture. But very often many of those present do not know anything about the bridegroom, good or bad or indifferent, and yet with what gusto we sing “For he is a jolly good fellow.” Again and again, when I have been presiding at a breakfast and have not met the man before and have started the singing, I have thought, “Well, you are an old humbug, as you really know nothing about him.”

There is a lot of routine in a wedding breakfast, speeches and everything else, and when you have been at a good many it gets rather monotonous, and this is the same with many expressions which are used most frequently—they do not carry much weight.

But that word, “goodbye”—whatever we mean when we utter it—whether we use it only superficially or otherwise—“ May God be with you”—there is always something beautiful about it. What better expression could we use whether we are parting with someone whom we expect to see again very soon or whether it is a longer parting—still it has the same wish that God may be with them. But when people say that they do not like hearing that expression it is not so much the words that they object to but the thought associated with the words —the thought of separation.

Of course the weight that word carries with it depends a great deal upon the circumstances connected with the special using of it, but when I felt it my duty to say.it to the people with whom I had been closely associated for so many years I not only meant it from the bottom of my heart, but the fact of having to say it carried with it that thought of separation and I felt naturally very sad.

During- the long years of residence in this parish with people who, on the whole, had treated me with kindness, consideration and long suffering—people whom I had been with in their joys and their sorrows

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—seen many of them grow from children to manhood and womanhood —seen others gradually grow old and pass into the other life.

When I remembered how much there had been to bind us together—when I thought of the dear old Church and its many services of joy and sorrow, then it was that I realised, not only the beauty of that word, “goodbye,” but also with all its force the thought associated with it, “separation.”

STRAY THOUGHTS AND INCIDENTS

I have always considered that one of the most wonderful things in connection with the Church of England is what is called its parochial system, i.e., the division of each diocese into a number of parishes, and the responsibility of the Vicar of each parish for the spiritual care of all people within the area of his parish who claim to be members of the Church.

To be really true to the vows taken at ordination it is not a question of visiting and looking after only those people who attend worship and take an interest in parochial affairs, but everyone who claims membership with the Church, even if that membership should only be nominal. Also I have always been a great believer in indirect results, it may be, often coming a long while after any effort made. The habit of looking for some result to come from every effort we make in dealing with people often ends in disappointment, discouragement, and a slacking off. The very fact of being responsible for the spiritual welfare of a certain number of people within a certain area makes it highly important to keep in close contact with them whether they respond to our message or not.

It is the habit of many clergy to-day to sneer at the parochial system as out-of-date, and the pastoral visiting of all those living in the parish as a. waste of time. However, by long experience, I have proved again and again that systematic and regular visiting on the part of the parish priest brings about the most wonderful results even from the most unexpected quarters even if one has to wait sometimes for years to get those results.

Then there is another consideration. Ido not see how a clergyman can deliver a true and helpful mes-

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sage to his people unless he knows their personal difficulties and troubles.

As I said before, I was trained under a man who visited all his parishioners and knew all their needs, and I have never come across a better worked parish in any part of the world, although I have travelled far and wide.

There is yet another consideration. How many of the clergy realise that they must not only give an account to God for the way they have spent their time, but what is just as important, they owe an obligation to the people who pay them? Most people who work for a wage are under a certain amount of super-vision, but the parson can loaf as much as he likes, but as long as he is a fairly likeable kind of man there will not be any trouble. It is so easy to stress the thing that is congenial and treat the disagreeable part as unnecessary. We are paid a certain amount to do a certain work and we have our pipe to smoke, our paper to read, our garden to attend to and many other things that seem to be very necessary, but they are not the work we are paid to do. On the other hand in our parochial visiting it is so much easier and more pleasant to confine our visits to those people who are congenial or to spend a good portion of the afternoon in what is termed “having afternoon tea.’’

With systematic arrangement it ought to be possible to visit all the parishioners three times a year even in a large parish. For many years, quite apart from the regular visiting, I used to deliver the parish magazine, personally, to a thousand houses each month, and I used to reckon that although the job would usually take me three or four days yet the result obtained was worth the effort. I was often told that it was lowering to the dignity of the cloth, but I always think that nothing is too low or too humble! to do if it is work for God and not for self.

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CHAPTER XIX.

I suppose every parson could narrate many peculiar and amusing experiences in connection and associated with his work.

I remember very well an incident connected with the first baptismal service that I performed which knocked a certain amount of the juvenile conceit out of me. I finished the service and was very proud of the way I took it—the baby did not cry and I held it quite firmly. I turned to the mother looking for a word of commendation and said, “This is my first baptism,” and I was rather flabbergasted and certainly crushed when she said, “Yes, I thought so.”

My first wedding was also rather out of the ordinary. It was celebrated in a small country Church. I had driven out in a gig—it was before the age of motor-cars—and had with me for company a theological student who was a friend of mine. When we reached the church I found that the vestry was close to the chancel and that its door had an entrance into this tiny chancel. As there was not much room in the church and the young student was rather shy we arranged that he should remain in the vestry while I officiated at the wedding. It is a most unusual thing to find a congregation at a wedding who will give the responses and generally the parson has to not only take his own share of the service but also repeat the responses for the congregation. Although I had not actually officiated at a wedding up to that time I had often been present at one and had noticed this deficiency. So the one thing that I impressed upon this young man was that he was to respond at the proper place. As the service proceeded the voice kept coming out of the vestry, and I saw the people looking rather astonished. As they did not know I had anyone wffh me and we were not able to stay for the wedding breakfast I have always had an idea in my mind that they must have thought that I was a ventriloquist.

Talking of weddings, I once got a great shock. The bride had a long veil reaching down to her waist which seemed to cover her hands as well as everything else, and only when it was time to use them was the veil cast aside. I was very much astonished, as well as horrified, to find that she had practically

no hands at all, just two lumps where her hands should have been. When the time came for the best man to produce the ring- for the bridegroom to place upon the bride’s finger, he produced an expanding bracelet. What had happened, whether she was bom like that or crippled by rheumatism, Ido not know. She was a good deal older than the groom and very soon after the marriage he went off to the war and was killed in action.

On another occasion something happened which I always remember with shame. The happy man came to see me some time before the wedding, and among other things he informed me that he had an artificial leg and therefore could not kneel. I am afraid I must have been thinking of other things at the time and did not notice what he was saying. When it came to the wedding I noticed that he did not kneel. I said, “Kneel, please.” When I saw that he did not take any notice I repeated the request. Suddenly and in an angry and energetic voice he said, “Didn’t I tell you I could not kneel.” I would have willingly disappeared through the floor if it had been possible. At one time I had a very good organist, but he had one fault—he was very forgetful. He would borrow the keys of the church or school and take them away in his pocket. Or if there were a special service in which he was taking part he would not take a note of it and therefore sometimes failed to be present.

There was once a rather important wedding and the bride was very anxious to have the organ played. When it was time for the service to commence everyone was ready but there was no organist. I suggested that, under the circumstances, it would, perhaps, be better to proceed with the ceremony without the organ, but the bride absolutely refused to agree to this—she had arranged to have the organ and she was not going to be married without it. She went out to the taxi she had come in and said she would remain there till the organist arrived. We sent round to his lodgings only to find that he was not at home, and his landlord thought he was somewhere in the town. I shall never forget the hunt for that man and the long wait of the guests. We were really very lucky finding him as soon as we did and the wedding was only about three-quarters of an hour late.

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You may think that I was a very funny casual kind of personality when you read the record of these mishaps, but I have married a good many hundred people and if you were to divide the unusual experiences up among the whole lot the proportion of these would be very small.

A man came to me one day and said he wanted to be married on a certain date, and as it was very close to the date mentioned I thought he meant in the following month, especially as I had mentioned about calling the Banns. However, two or three days later I was passing the church and I saw the prospective bride and bridegroom marching up arm in arm together followed by their friends. I went up to them and said, “Have you people come up for a dress rehearsal?” He replied, “No, we have come to be married.” I said, “Good gracious, I thought it was not for another month.” It was really a wonderful escape because if I had not passed at that particular moment I might have been visiting in the parish and hard to find.

The other day I heard of a queer experience that happened to a friend of mine while he was conducting a wedding not long ago. In the middle of the service the bridegroom dropped down suddenly in a dead faint. The service had to be stopped and the man carried into the vestry and laid flat on the floor. It was some time before the ceremony could be resumed.

Let me tell another experience—the bride arrived at the church at the appointed time but there was no groom. We waited and waited and the bride began to get hysterical till when we were wondering what we could do the bridegroom turned up in a great state of distress and excitement. It was a race day and he lived in the other end of the City. The taxi man whom he had engaged had gone off to the races and forgotten all about the wedding. Being race day this poor unfortunate man found it impossible to get another taxi anywhere. Finally, after being dreadfully worked up and desperate and imagining all sorts of things happening at the church, someone came along and helped him out of all his worry and difficulty and at last everything ended happily.

One last word about marriages. I once had the privilege of marrying a girl who was a great musician and some time before the marriage she came to call

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upon me and gave me a list of pieces to be played by the organist before and after the ceremony, and also what was to be played while the contracting parties were signing the register in the vestry. Unfortunately, owing to a press of work, I only remembered these instructions when I came across the piece of paper in my pocket about a week after the wedding was over. The extraordinary thing was that the bride never referred to the matter afterwards. Whether it was out of kindness of heart or everything was forgotten in the excitement of the moment I do not know But I do know one thing—just to be on the safe side— I kept out of her sight for some time afterwards.

I remember a very amusing incident which happened in one of my parishes.

There was a woman living in the parish who seemed very much attached to her husband. When he suddenly became ill and died we were all very sorry for her and she herself seemed to be heartbroken.

Some months later she happened to visit a man who among other things was an ardent spiritualist. He also felt sorry for her and by way of comfort he said:

“Mrs , do not worry, your husband is very close to you.”

He was much astonished when he heard the reply, so completely different from anything that he expected;

“Why do you remind me of my husband? I don’t want to hear about him. I want to get married again.” And sure enough not very long after she was married again.

I think that there is a good deal of unreality about the words of many of our hymns. Take, for instance, that one which begins with those words, “Weary of earth and laden with my sins,” as I am afraid many of us take the question of our sins altogether too lightly and we are, as a rule not at all tired of living here. I was talking about this one day to a man and he said, “This is not at all a bad little world to live in.”

I was preaching once about the question, “Is life worth living,” and after service a parson who happened to be in church came up to me and said speaking of the sermon, “Do you remember Punch’s answer

to that question? ‘lt depends on the liver’,” and I think that there is a good deal of truth in that statement—our outlook on life depends a good deal upon circumstances.

There was a dear old non-Conformist friend of mine living in the parish. Some time after I retired his wife rang up and said that he would very much like to see me. Of course I responded to the call at once and while I was sitting chatting to him his own minister arrived. Among other things this man spoke of my retirement and hoped I was well and happy. A little later he turned to the sick man and said, “Now we must have a prayer.” I was greatly astonished and the sick man must have been more than astonished when we kneeled down that all the prayer was about my retirement and hopes for my future happiness, and not a single mention of the poor sick man and his need for spiritual help in a great time of need. I did not dare to say anything as I had only come as a friend but I often wondered what the sick man thought about the matter.

Our attitude towards religion is a most peculiar thing. Years ago I was travelling in a train with a Salvation Army lassie. It was in the age when popular novels had yellow covers and were called yellowbacks. This girl had a book of devotions with her, but unfortunately it had a yellow cover somewhat similar to a yellow-back. She was so afraid that people might think that she was reading a yellow-back, which to her mind would be a deadly sin, that she would not open her book at all but hid it away out of sight.

There was a parson friend of mine who was very fond of borrowing my detective stories and thrillers. One day he was ordered into the hospital for an operation and so I said, “Well, old man, I will bring you up a good supply of literature.” But he replied, “You will do nothing of the sort. I have got lots of books which I want to read.”

When I went up to see him all the books that he had with him, apart from books of devotion, were theological. He did not want the world to imagine that he was so depraved as to read a thriller. Such is life.

I have always had a habit of whistling everywhere and at all times, and, as my whistle, like my cough, was rather original, I gave myself away and people gener-

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ally knew when I was about. I would often begin to whistle without realising whether the time or place was appropriate or not. Some time after I had retired I had evidently been whistling in one of the trams because one day a near relative of mine said to me, “I met Mrs So-and-so and she said ‘Mr . . .’s losing his mind, is he not?’ ‘Why?’ ‘I heard him whistling in the tram.’ ”

One of my parishioners died and on the morning of the funeral his brothers came to me and stated that they could not find any trace of his will. But someone had come to them and told them that the deceased had informed him that he had buried all his money in his garden and that I was the only person who knew exactly where it had been hidden. As I knew this man very well it would have been quite a natural thing for him to give me any information about his affairs. Unfortunately he had not done so and I did not know anything about the matter and I told his brothers this. Well, they dug all the garden over very carefully but never found any trace of any money.

I have often wondered what they thought and whenever I have remembered the man I have felt uncomfortable. Ido not know where the man who made the statement obtained his information, but it would be so easy to imagine that I had seized the money and pretended ignorance. As a matter of fact I honestly believe that he died without having any money to leave. He was always liberal, kind-hearted and very popular and I think spent all that he ever possessed.

I have always been firmly convinced that there is a great deal to be said in favour of what I might term “inward telepathy.” In other words I honestly believe that there is such a thing as mind communication between two people, although they may be far apart from each other. Again and again, during my long experience as a parish Priest, something has seemed to tell me to leave the work I was doing in one part of my parish and go away to a completely different part. On every occasion when I have responded to such an intuition or call I found a very good reason for it and generally when I have refused to respond I have had reason to regret it later. I remember especially two instances when it would have been disastrous if I had not responded.

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One afternoon I was visiting door to door in a certain part of my parish and I was very anxious to finish the street I was in that afternoon. Suddenly something seemed to call me to a house at the other end of the parish which was rather isolated. I tried to take no notice of the call because I was so anxious to complete the job that I was doing but something within me seemed to keep on telling me that I must go. So at last I went. When I reached the house I found that the man had broken his leg badly and his wife had no one to send for a doctor.

On the outskirts of the parish there was an old hut where a man used to “bach” by himself. I had always meant to visit this place, but had neglected to do so. One afternoon when I was out parish visiting something seemed to tell me that I ought to go and visit that old man. So I went. I found him very ill, in a very neglected condition and needing urgent help and attention which, of course, was quickly forthcoming. On both occasions these people were calling for help, but not directly to me; in fact, I did not know the old man. I cannot account for it but it is a fact which I have experienced again and again.

It is really wonderful how, again and again, when one does not know where to turn and what to do to meet some difficult situation, something has happened to alter the whole aspect of the case.

Unfortunately for many years my wife was an invalid which not only made it very hard for her but also meant additional expenditure in the way of help, etc. I have never on any occasion made my difficulties public property, but it is rather marvellous that on two occasions when I did not know which way to turn in order to make income and expenditure balance something happened to relieve the situation.

One of my best and kindest parishioners came to call on me one day to tell me that he was sorry to say that he was severing his connection with the parish. It was a great blow, of course, but he put two cheques on my table for £5O each and said that one was for the parish and one for me. The help came just when it was urgently needed.

On another occasion at the annual parish meeting I saw four or five of the leading people in the parish who did not usually attend the meeting sitting to-

gether. As I had not asked them to attend I wondered why they had come. The cost of living had gone up and everything was very difficult at the time especially at the Vicarage, but I had not mentioned that fact to anyone and never had any thought of asking for a larger stipend.

When the balance-sheet had been adopted with a fair credit balance I was very astonished to see one of these men get up and state that my stipend was not enough and proposed an addition of £5O per annum and also that the credit balance be handed to me for present expenditure. This motion was carried.

To my mind it is rather wonderful that just when I most needed it without any appeal or even mention of my need, this help should come.

The Vicarage in this place was very old, unhealthy, and out-of-date, and I honestly believe now, although I did not realise it then, that this was partly responsible for my wife’s bad health. I would never have asked the people for a new house although I thought it necessary. Many of the rooms were damp and the house was infested with river rats. One day a deputation of men went to the Vestry and said that they would not allow their wives to live in such a place and it was quite time a new Vicarage was built. At a meeting held to consider the matter it was decided to hold a bazaar to try and raise the money required to accomplish this.

Although some people think it a deadly sin to obtain money for church purposes from a fair or a bazaar, I am going to be quite honest and say I do not see any harm in it. In fact, I think it is sometimes better than what people term “direct giving” when the money is obtained from people who never attend church and obtain their money by questionable means. At a bazaar, if it is conducted properly, you are under no obligation to anyone. It is a question of selling and buying, like any business. ,

At any rate, this bazaar was a great success and realised £l5OO net, enough to pay for the new Vicarage in cash.

This is the third instance of help coming when needed, without any asking or suggestions.

I suppose all parsons l get a great many appeals for help from all sorts and conditions of men and

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women, some of them genuine but a great many of them, I am afraid, quite unworthy of help.

People often think that the clergy are very easily taken in by frauds and, while I am not willing to plead guilty, still I am quite willing to admit that the help I have often given was quite undeserved, although I did not know it at the time. One is so often afraid of refusing to help those who make the appeal in case some one who really and truly needs assistance may be sent away empty handed, that if there is any doubt at all the risk is taken of helping even those who may not be genuine.

One of the books that made the greatest impression upon my life was that book of Charles Reade’s, “Put yourself in his place,” and in dealing with other people I have always tried to act in the way I should have liked them to act towards me in similar circumstances and have especially thought of this in dealing with those in need.

My first Vicar was so afraid that some of the tramps who came begging, if refused, might, out of revenge, set his church on fire, that he made a rule of giving all beggars a shilling each.

Some people say, “Why not take the address of each person that calls asking for help and make enquiries as to the bona-fides of the applicants before responding?” But in a busy city parish that is generally an impossibility where it is rush and hurry, morning, noon, and night, although in some special cases it is advisable to do so even in spite of the rush.

In giving some instances of the way giving help worked out no one must run away with the impression that I had money to burn or I would not have responded in the way I did on many occasions. If I had saved instead of giving so much to those who came to me appealing for sympathy and help, I would have been better off in my old age and been able to afford more comforts. lam afraid often my giving meant sacrifice and curtailment in the home as a consequence.

There was a woman in my parish who was separated from her husband and had a large family to bring up and educate. These people were a great help to me in the parish in many ways. When I had volunteered for the Mission Field and was just on the point of starting on the first stage of my long journey this

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woman came to me weeping in a great state of distress. She was at her wit’s end to know how to pay her way and had immediate need for £lO, would I come to her assistance? I had little spare cash and would need a good deal before I eventually came to my journey’s end, but I did not see how I could refuse her request. So she got her £lO, which she promised to repay eventually.

I went to the Mission and later returned to the Dominion and settled down once again and forgot all about the £lO. Some years later someone sent me a paper recording, among other things, the death of this woman. As I read the news I said, “Well, there goes £10.” Much to my astonishment some weeks later I received a letter from, a member of the family enclosing £lO. This letter stated that Mrs on her deathbed practically with her last words, made the members of her family promise to refund that £lO.

In the choir of one of my parishes I had a very clever singer who was gifted in many other ways. But, as is so often the case, his misuse of the very gifts which might have been such a help and inspiration to others eventually led to his ruin. I will not mention his many lost opportunities, but at the time I made his acquaintance he was then on the downward track, although I did not know it at the time. He had a very fascinating wife and some dear little children. Among other things he was secretary to the local school committee and embezzled some of their funds. His wife came to me in a great state of distress and stated that, unless he refunded the money at once, he would be prosecuted, could I help them? She further stated that his brothers would lend the money if he gave them a promissory note containing my endorsement, and so I agreed to do this. The man was at that time in a Government position although he had held much better positions in former years.

After his lapse was cleaned up he immediately went bankrupt and, although Government clerks were supposed to lose their positions after such actions, for some reason, probably influence, this man retained his. When the P/n became due he repudiated it and his brothers called upon me for repayment. It was somewhat over £3O and I had not sufficient ready money to meet the demand, so I had to repay it by

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degrees. When I had repaid about £25 they remitted the balance, which was a kindly action when I had saved their brother from prison. The family were fairly well known, but I moved about and forgot all about the incident.

A good many years passed by when one day I received a letter from one of the brothers stating that their mother had died and in her will had left a sum of money to me equivalent to the amount of the P/n. He stated that, as Trustee, he was willing to hand me the money if I was willing to sign a paper promising to refund the rest of the P/n. which they remitted. Although I thought the whole affair a very sordid undertaking I did so, only too glad to get my money back again.

These were two occasions when my money came back to me in an unexpected fashion, but this was the exception rather than the rule. Again and again whatever promises and protestations were made and however rosy the situation looked when the money was advanced that was usually the last seen of it.

I specially remember on on occasion lending a man £3O fully expecting that I would get it back sooner or later. He was a man I had known for thirty years. At one time he was in the choir of a church of which I was locum for about a year, and when I left the place I lost sight of him. Then years later he turned up in my parish. He came to see me, showed me a lot of newspaper cuttings giving accounts of work he had been doing in different parishes where he had been living. Among other things he told me that he was a widower with two or three children. Some time later I received a ’phone message from him stating that he was in great difficulty and could I meet him in town. When we met he took me to what turned out to be a money-lender. He was negotiating for a loan of £3O and wanted me to back the bill. This I refused to do but told the money-lender I was sure he would repay. The only reply I got was that if I really thought so I had better lend the money myself. The man seemed in such a state of distress that I managed to get £3O together and let him have it on the clear understanding that he would gradually redeem the loan.

Time passed and I no longer saw or heard anything of him. He was in a Government billet so at

last I wrote to the head of his Department, put the whole matter before him and asked if it would be possible to deduct a small amount each month from this man’s salary in order to repay the loan. He replied stating that such a course was quite impossible, but that if I could report the matter to the Department the man would be dismissed. When I thought of the young children I refused to take this course of action, so I was told that the man would be spoken to and sent to see me. Down he came full of sorrow, regrets, repentance and promises—then little later he was moved to another place and I have never heard any more of him or my £3O.

Later a sister of his came to see me and wanted to pay me £l5 out of her earnings towards liquidating part of the debt, but as she had to work hard for her money I would not take it. Some years later when I buried her I found that she had left some hundreds of pounds, so I partly regretted that I did not accept her offer.

Probably if one had taken the trouble to keep an account of all the money lent never to be returned it would amount to a fairly large sum. However, there is that old and very true saying that it is no good crying over spilt milk and one can only hope that on the whole this form of kindness has done more good than harm.

Twice during my ministry I have been chaplain to the Battery. While in one parish it was arranged that members of the Battery should attend a church parade on a certain Sunday morning at my parish church. They had some distance to march and so naturally wanted a band to lead them. Unfortunately they had quarrelled with the garrison band and refused to make use of it on this occasion. The military authorities, however, informed their commanding officer, Major M , that if they did not use the garrison band they could not have a band at all.

It was really very clever the way they got over the difficulty. The commander went to one of the City bands and stated that the Battery was parading at Church on a certain Sunday. He further stated that they were not permitted to invite the band to join them, but he reminded the bandmaster that the streets were public property and free to all, there-

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fore if their band happened to be marching in front of the Battery on that occasion, well; it would be very nice for all concerned. And so that is exactly what happened. The band marched ahead playing martial music, and a space of some yards divided the band from the regiment.

They were quite separate and yet the band was able to do what the Battery wanted.

After I resigned from the charge of parish I did a certain amount of relieving work. Among other places I once had the charge of a small suburban church for a few months. On the borders of this district there was a racecourse. I wrote to the president of the racing club and informed him that as the club was in my parish it was up to the members to attend the church. These men happened to be a lot of sports in more senses than one and they fully entered into the idea and said that they would all come to the church on a certain Sunday evening.

In the meantime, however, I fell a victim to pleurisy and was bundled off to the hospital. I told the nurses that I had got this service and must therefore be out of the hospital in nine days, and they all laughed at the idea of such a thing being possible. However, I was out in time to take the service and the club was very well represented. Before the sermon I got them to sing that hymn, “Fight the good fight with all your might,” and began my sermon by telling them what happened when the bowling club came to church —which I have already mentioned in another part of this book. Then I went on to say that I had not used that hymn only because of that incident, but principally because the second verse began with the words, “Run the straight race” and that I wanted to speak to them about running a straight race.

Among other things that I referred to in that sermon was something that happened to me when I was stationed on the East Coast somewhere above Gisborne. There were a lot of Maoris in the district and they generally held their race meetings on the beach when the tide was out. One Sunday I had been taking a number of services at the north end of my parish and on the Monday morning I was returning home with my swag attached to the saddle in front of me.

As I rode along the beach I passed a lot of men

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and horses, but as I was in a hurry to get home I did not pay any special attention to them. A little later I was astonished to find myself involved in a horse race —in fact, right in the middle of it—and my horse seemed to quite enter into the spirit of it.

That was the one and only horse race I ever took part in, and of course handicapped as I was by a heavy swag, and being on the last lap of a long journey, I ended some way behind all the other horses. The Maoris are somewhat haphazard and instead of being annoyed with me for being involved in their race, they quite enjoyed the joke.

I would like to end this story with a word of thanks to my many kind friends who in various ways have made it possible for me to have it printed.

Life today is so abnormal, so full of deeds of heroism and self-sacrifice, that what I have portrayed may seem rather tame by way of comparison.

Some of my readers may be disappointed that I have not referred to the early days of Canterbury and the part that my father played in those far off days. But all that happened long before my time and would be far too large a subject to deal with in the compass of this small book. My association with Canterbury only started with middle age when those early days belonged to the past.

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