the vestments and altar-stone. We always carried the Blessed Sacrament in a pyx in the breast pocket, not knowing where or when we might come upon the sick and dying. The Holy See has since prohibited this practice; and recollecting that we often had to stay the night in taverns, and in more miserable places, I think there was wisdom in the prohibition. My oil stocks, through wearing a hole in the pocket, were lost in the desolate Blue Mountains. But, strange to say, a Frenchwoman passed that way, found them, and concluded that they must belong to a priest, and so they were finally recovered. A silver snuff-box lost in the same region was never recovered, although my name was upon it and I offered a reward for it. I valued it as a gift from my mother.

We generally used the police courts for chapels, but at Bathurst I used the ball room of the Royal Hotel, built over the stables, and at Appin I said Mass in a room of the tavern, where I preached against drunkenness. The innkeeper, a worthy Catholic, was rallied about this sermon; but he said: "We will take anything from his Reverence." I was breakfasting after my work in this inn, when I was told that a man wanted to see me. "Bring him in," said I. "Good morning, your Reverence," he said at the door. "Good morning to you; when were you at your duties last?" "Ah, it's not them, your Reverence." "Well, what is it?" "To tell your Reverence the truth, the other day I got drunk, and I promised my wife on my knees that I would not take a drop of drink for twelve months, unless through the hands of a priest. And if your Reverence could just let me take a bottle of rum through your hands to keep Christmas with" "Well, I will make a bargain with you. Father Therry will be here about Christmas, and if you promise me to go to your duties with him, and only to drink it moderately, two glasses at a time with your family, you shall have a bottle of rum." It was brought in and paid for, when the man held it up to the light, and said: "It looks very nice, wouldn't your Reverence have a little drop?" "Come," I said, "you want the bottle opened. It won't do; go and keep your promise, and mind this, I shall inquire if you do keep it." "But," he said, "your Reverence must touch the bottle; that was in my oath."

Wherever we went the Catholic innkeepers entertained us and

our horses, and would never accept payment. When we reached a township, the first day was spent in riding round the country, visiting all the settlers, Protestant as well as Catholic, to ask leave for the convict servants to come to Mass and the Sacraments next day. The whole of the next day was occupied with people coming and going, and perhaps a second day was required for Communions. The heat was often intense, and after riding round, both man and horse were exhausted. To approach a farm required a little management. The moment you appear, a whole chorus of barking dogs rush out to meet you; and there you must stand surrounded with them until someone comes to take you under protection, after which your claims to hospitality are admitted and you are greeted with a wagging of tails. But woe to you if, after a hard day's ride, one of your first salutations is: "What a pity, we are just going to kill"; for this means that there is no meat in the house, and that your diet will be damper and tea, with an egg or two-damper being a heavy unleavened cake baked in the ashes, and so called, no doubt, from the damp it puts on your digestion. Hospitality, however, a hearty welcome, and the best that can be had, never fail in the Australian bush.

But, at times, one gets into queer places, and meets with odd incidents. Archbishop Polding was sleeping one night in a log. hut, with open rafters above. Awaking, he saw two small lights in the upper roof, and was puzzled to make out what they were. They looked like two greenish stars peering through the shingles. But, the mystery was solved by a cat pouncing down from the beams and seizing him by the nose. Having a sick call from Sydney to Illawara, a ride of eighty miles, a very heavy rain came on, and I stopped at a wooden hut for shelter. As the downpour continued the good people offered to lend me a beautiful blue cloth cloak, which hung up in the room and which someone had left there for a time. When it was taken off at the house where I stopped the whole inside of it was covered with bugs, as if it had been sown with pearls, and it had to be hung upon a tree and swept with a broom. The sick woman whom I went to visit, and whom the messenger, who had ridden all the way to Sydney, reported to be near death, came and opened the door. She was quite well, and had only a fit of ague. I stopped the night at a log hut in the neighborhood, and was awakened the next morn

ing by a very loud and extraordinary noise. Shrieks and wailings were predominant, whilst a certain harmonious discord in two parts ran through the shrill notes. I got up and inquired, and was told that it was the settler's clock; a species of kingfisher that lives on snakes, against which it is protected by a ruff of feathers round its neck. Owing to its destroying so many poisonous snakes the bird is held sacred. From the extraordinary dialogue of sounds with which the male and female salute the rising sun, Governor King gave it the name of the laughing jackass, by which it is commonly called. Returning from that most beautiful district at the ascent of Mount Keera, the forest was on fire on both sides: a not unusual occurrence after a high wind on a very hot day. I stopped to examine if it was safe to proceed, and, looking to the horse's feet, found a kangaroo in miniature, cowering under the horse's hind legs for protection from the fire. On the same ascent is the celebrated hollow tree, to which I once conducted Bishop Polding for shelter from heavy rain: it kept us and our horses perfectly dry, and there was still room enough for two more horses.

Breakfasting at Bathurst in a hotel after saying Mass, a young lady came to me in great distress of mind. She had but recently arrived alone in the Colony, and had brought me a letter of introduction. "Whatever are you doing," I asked, in some surprise, "in this remote place?" Through her tears she told me that she had come with the view of buying land; but that she was lodging with a Catholic farmer in the neighborhood, who would not let her have her horse, and was trying to force her to marry his son. “Do you really mean to say that you have ridden all the way from Sydney, and have crossed those lonely Blue Mountains without any guide or protector?" So it was, however. "Go back at once to your lodgings," I said, "and tell the people that I shall be there in two hours' times." On my reaching the door the whole family came out. They were so sorry, but the lady's horse was loose in the bush, and could not be caught. I said to my man: "Put the lady's saddle on your horse; then go back to the hotel, get another horse, and follow us as soon as you can over the Connoll Plains. As to you (turning to the settler), see you send that lady's horse and things to the Bathurst Hotel by to-morrow morning, or you will hear through the magistrate." No sooner was

she mounted than I gave her a canter of some eight or ten miles, when I deposited her with a worthy surgeon and his wife, who kindly undertook to see her off to Sydney by the next public conveyance, and to send a trusty man with her horse. I thus lost a day in rescuing a distressed damsel from toils woven by her own folly.

Wherever we got the loan of a court house up the country as a chapel I invariably found a Bible on the bench for administering oaths, on the back of which a paper was pasted the full length in the form of a cross; most commonly consisting of two crossed pieces of coarse brown paper. When anyone had to be sworn, the clerk asked: "Are you Protestant or Catholic?" If Protestant, the book was opened and its pages kissed; if Catholic, the brown paper cross was presented to be kissed. I wrote a letter to the Governor, pointing out both the indecency and the illegality of this practice, as well as the prejudice which it caused. By a circular to the magistrates the abuse was put an end to.

At Sydney we did our outdoor work in gigs, as well to save time as on account of the heat. Besides the usual flock, forming a fourth of the population, we had to look after the prisoners' barracks, a huge jail to which the convict men were sent on their first landing, and to which they were returned from every part of the Colony for punishment. We had also to attend the felons' jail, where some forty executions took place yearly. We had to look after a large chain-gang upon an island in Sydney Cove. We had to visit a large convict hospital at Sydney; another at Parramatta, fifteen miles off; and another at Liverpool, at a distance of twenty miles. Again there was the Benevolent Asylum, a refuge for decayed people; for there was no Poor Law, nor was it needed in those days. The funerals, also, which were outside the city, required to be attended to at least every other day. Parramatta had to be served regularly from Sydney, and Liverpool from time to time. Father McEncroe and I had to bear the brunt of this work.

Another field of occupation was examining and signing the papers of the large convict population. No one could obtain his ticket of leave, or his free pardon, or leave to marry, or the privilege of having wife and children sent out at Government expense, unless the document he presented was signed by a clergyman of

his communion. Then there were duties for the Vicar-General as head of the department; duties and correspondence with the Colonial Office, with the Surveyor's Office, with the Architect's Office, with the Audit Office, with the Treasury, and with the military, as well as with the Convict Department.

There were grants of land to be obtained for churches, schools, or presbyteries; payments to be arranged or certified for priests or school teachers; aid to be sought for new buildings; arrangements made for duties to the military, as well as for the convicts; favors to be solicited in exceptional cases that seemed to call for mercy; special journeys in Government services by land and sea, such as attending executions. I always found the heads of departments friendly and obliging. The official dinners at Government House tended to strengthen this good understanding; and on those occasions his Excellency was always considerate in inviting the Protestant Archdeacon and Catholic Vicar-General on different days, so that each in his turn had the place of honor, and said grace.

HENRY EDWARD

1808-1892

MANNING

Henry Edward Manning, convert and cardinal, was born in Hertfordshire in 1808. Beginning his education under tutors, he proceeded to Harrow, and finally entered Balliol College, Oxford, from which he was graduated in 1830.

After serving in the Colonial Office for a time after graduation, he gave over his political ambitions to enter the Anglican Church. Accordingly, he returned to Oxford for further study, taking orders in 1832.

In 1841, having held a small living in Sussex for eight years, he was appointed Archdeacon of Chichester. His opportunities for the exercise of his particular talents-political and social-were, as a consequence, considerably increased. In the meantime, however, the forces which were to result in the Oxford Movement were developing strength and as they gradually accumulated momentum, Manning, like Newman, Faber, and a host of other Anglican clergymen of spiritual integrity, could not remain untouched. His study of the early Fathers had slowly convinced him that the Church of England