V.

I wrote in a previous letter of the enthusiastic and almost affectionate greeting which I received from the congregation at Adelaide. There was only one thing page 100 wanting, which long experience had taught me not to expect, it was the presence of representatives of the city and of other religious bodies domiciled in it. At Melbourne it was a gratifying surprise to me to find three of the most eminent ministers uniting with Mr. Lambley and his congregation to give me a welcome—Dr. Rentoul, of whom I have already written; Dr. Bevan, the leading Congregationalist divine; and Dr. Strong, whose name is well known to most of your readers. The latter I was especially interested to meet, for his fate has been curiously bound up with mine. Some thirty years ago, after Mr. Carpenter's resignation, the offer was made to him of the Mill Hill pulpit: had he accepted instead of quitting Scotland for Australia it had been a very different life for both of us. Dr. Strong will not accept the Unitarian name, for reasons which are familar to your readers and of weight in the minds of many English ministers, but I believe I am not wrong in saying that he is in entire sympathy with what is sometimes called "the advanced school" among us both in religion and in politics. He has, however, held aloof from public association with us up to the time of the present minister; and his presence on this occasion, and still more so that of Dr. Rentoul and Dr. Bevan, was really a mark of the high esteem in which Mr. Lambley is held by thoughtful and large-minded religious men of all the churches.

It is a twenty hours' passage from Melbourne to Launceston, about twelve hours in the Straits, where rough seas are as common as between Liverpool and page 101 the Isle of Man—this latter, by the way, the only voyage on which I have been completely miserable with sea-sickness, some forty-five years ago—but we had an exceptionally smooth time. We were met on our landing by Mr. and Mrs. Rolph, to whose assiduous exertions all the success of my mission in their city must be attributed. The same afternoon we had a public reception, the Mayor presiding, and four leading clergymen—there is no Established Church in Australasia, and so no invidious distinction is made, as with us, between clergy and ministers—taking part. Indeed, the most gratifying feature of my short stay at Launceston was the cordial welcome given to mo by men and women of all religious sorts and all conditions. The names have been given to me of nine, two of them Anglican, two Presbyterian, two Congregational, all engaged in the ministry who one or another gave public evidence of their approval—not of the opinions I expressed, of course none of them could have done that, or would have come forward if their action could have been so interpreted—of my mission as expressed in my letter from England and in all my speeches. I had come, I said, not to make division and win converts, but to preach tolerance and respect for those who differed from us the most widely, and gather the scattered individuals who were unable to accept the popular faith into a worshipping congregation. Possibly if I had come to stay my reception would have been less cordial, but I don't think it. It seemed to me as if Launceston were a place where the ideal might be realised of a page 102 Unitarian Church taking its rightful place as one of many churches, equally with others recognised and respected as representing a form of religion different, but not hostile or reprehensible.

I conducted service on Sunday, both morning and evening. They were not able to make arrangements for music or singing, so that there was only reading, prayer, and sermon. I feared it would be cold and dull, but did not find it so myself, and the quiet attention paid throughout was sufficient assurance of the interest felt by others. The little room, capable of seating about 130, was full in the evening, and there were, perhaps, sixty in the morning. It was the last of my five short winter days at Launceston, and I left the next morning, regretting that I could not stay on a month. The city is beautifully situated on the Tamar; it is lit by electricity, which is provided at small cost by a neighbouring torrent, whose picturesque course would be in itself sufficient attraction to make the fortune of an English watering place. The population, including the suburban districts, is under 25,000, but there are evidences of enterprise and obvious advantages of situation which seem to promise great things. It is the natural port of this island, which abounds in minerals of all kinds, and is celebrated as the breeding place of the finest merinos of the world. The celebrated ram President sold for 1,200 guineas, and I am told that £600 is not an un-common price. There is, too, a yearly increasing cultivation of a grateful soil, and many millions of apples are sent to England and jams to India and page 103 China, as well as an immense quantity of potatoes to Victoria. It is true that the island is mountainous and the greater part can never be brought under the plough or even used as pasture land, but the mountains ensure that which Australia so sorely lacks, an abundant and constant supply of water, so that drought is here unknown. Moreover, as a holiday and tourist resort it has all kinds of attractions which have only just begun to be opened up. I have, of course, no pecuniary interest of any kind in Tasmania—her mines, pastures, orchards, forests, loans. Were it otherwise, I might be tempted to exaggerate the value and variety of her resources. But as an impartial observer I am impressed by the contrast it offers to the vast continent of which she is politically a part, a continent of which so large a portion is hopelessly desert, and of which even the more fertile border lands will always suffer from the irregularity and insufficiency of rain and the incon-stancy of what they do not even presume to call "rivers," for with one or two exceptions they always speak of their water courses as "creeks."

We left Launceston by rail on Monday, in company with Mr. Lovell, Inspector of Education, who had come all the way from Hobart to meet us. It is 130 miles by rail to Hobart, a long ascent to a height of 1,300 feet at the centre of the island, eastward of the great table-land, which rises 3,000 feet above the plain. Thence the descent is rapid to Hobart, where we were met by our kind host, Mr. Justice Clark, who took us to his house and introduced us to his large family. page 104 Here we have been entertained with the utmost kindness and consideration, and I have the advantage of the judge's library, which makes me continually forget how far away I am from the world of printers and publishers.

This city is beautifully situated under the shadow of Mount Wellington, which rears its now snow-sprinkled brow over 4,000 ft. above, supporting its summit on basaltic columns visible from afar, and popularly known as "the Organ Pipes." The river Derwent broadens to a lake below, and forms an inland harbour which would accomodate all the fleets of the Southern seas. It has a population of less than 40,000, but the worth and dignity of a city cannot be fixed by a merely numerical test. Hobart and Launceston are to me more suggestive of Edinburgh and Glasgow in embryo than of any British provincial towns of the same insignificant population. Here we have a Governor and a Legislative Assembly, and House of Representatives, and High Court of Justice, and Treasury and University, Roman Archbishop and Anglican Bishop, and all which makes the dignity of a capital city. Yet it is a very quiet place. "Sleepy Hollow" they call it at busy little Launceston. The mountain seems to impress it with a sense of unimportance, as if for ever preaching, "Be quiet, little men; don't worry; live while you may and be thankful. At longest yours is but a little while. I was here long before you came, and shall be here when you have passed away."

The Premier of the Colony kindly took the chair at page 105 an "At Home" held to meet us, and he was supported by the Chief Secretary and the Treasurer. There was a large attendance of ladies and gentlemen. I was told that the clergy of all denominations would have been represented, had it been on any other than Saturday night. I hope this is so, but none of them have as yet shown themselves at any lecture I have given, and I do not expect to see them. Perhaps the chief reason of the difference in this respect between here and Launceston is that at Launceston we have never had a congregation, and there was no sense of opposition. Here, thanks to the exertions of Mr. Taylor, the Public Librarian, aided by Mr. Lovell, services have been conducted regularly for seven years past. The clergy know what Unitarianism is, and, naturally, do not like it. On Sunday I gave a lecture, in the afternoon, on "What Unitarians Believe," to a good audience, who listened with marked attention for over an hour. In the evening I conducted service, and preached. The room was full, and I am told that there were 200 present. Tomorrow I give my fifth lecture, and so conclude my work here.

We shall leave Tasmania, with great regret that our visit has been so short, on the 13th, and reach Sydney, I hope, in two days, to begin immediately a new course of meetings, lectures, and services. It is a busy life, but the work is pleasant, and I have up to the present encountered no opposition worth speaking of. Friends are only too kind, they treat me with a deference and anxiety to please which I put down to the account of the Association, for I cannot hold myself in any wise entitled to so much favour.

C. H.