e years life in that lovely
and beloved Middle Island, no pleasures stand out more vividly than my
evening rides up winding gullies or across low hill-ranges in search of
a shepherd's hut, or a _cockatoo's_ nest. A peculiar brightness seems to
rest on those sun-lit peaks of memory's landscape; and it is but fitting
that it should be so, for other excursions or expeditions used to
be undertaken merely for business or pleasure, but these delicious
wanderings were in search of scattered dwellings whose lonely
inhabitants--far removed from Church privileges for many a long
year past--might be bidden, nay, entreated, to come to us on Sunday
afternoons, and attend the Service we held at home weekly.

And here I feel constrained to say a word to those whose eyes may haply
rest on my pages, and who may find themselves in the coming years in
perhaps the same position as I did a short time ago. A new comer to a
new country is sure to be discouraged if he or she (particularly _she_,
I fancy) should attempt to revive or introduce any custom which has
been neglected or overlooked. This is especially the case with religious
observances. At every turn one is met by disheartening warnings. "Oh,
the people here are very different to those in the old country; they
would look upon it as impertinence if you suggested they should come to
church." "You will find a few may come just at first, and then when
the novelty wears off and they have seen all the pretty things in your
drawing room, not a soul will ever come near the place."

"If even the men don't say something very free and easy to you when you
invite them to your house on Sunday afternoons, you may depend upon
it that after two or three weeks you will not know how to keep them in
order."

Such, and many more, were the discouraging remarks made when I consulted
my neighbours about my plan for collecting the shepherds from the
surrounding runs, and holding a Church of England Service every Sunday
afternoon at our own little homestead. To my mind, the distances seemed
the greatest obstacle, as many of the men I wanted to reach lived
twenty-five or even thirty miles away, with very rough country between.
I had no fear of impertinence, for it is unknown to me, and seldom
comes, I fancy, unprovoked; whilst with regard to the novelty wearing
off and the men ceasing to attend, that must be left in God's hands. We
could only endeavour to plant the good seed, and trust to Him to give
the i