transferring himself to Manchester, Liverpool, London, or some large
city, where there was need of mission work among the neglected.

His father was on the City of London Charter Commission, and was in
London from November to February, the daughters joining him there,
but there was no lack of friends around Alfington. Indeed it was in
the midst of an absolute clan of Coleridges, and in Buckerell parish,
at Deerpark, that great old soldier, Lord Seaton, was spending the
few years that passed between his Commissioner-ship in the Ionian
Isles and his Commandership in Ireland.

He was connected with the Coleridges through the Yonge family, and
the young people were all on familiar cousinly terms. Coley was much
liked by him; and often joined in the rides through the lanes and to
the hills with him and his daughters, when there were many
conversations of much interest, as there could not fail to be with a
man who had never held a government without doing his utmost to
promote God's work in the Church and for education; who had,
moreover, strong opinions derived from experience of the Red Indians
in Upper Canada--namely, that to reclaim the young, and educate them
was the only hope of making Christianity take root in any fresh
nation.

It was at Deerpark, at a dinner in the late autumn of this year 1853,
that I saw Coley Patteson for the second and last time. I had seen
him before in a visit of three days that I made at Feniton with my
parents in the September of 1844, when he was an Eton boy, full of
high spirits and merriment. I remember then, on the Sunday, that he
and I accompanied our two fathers on a walk to the afternoon service
at Ottery, and that on the way he began to show something of his