remained. Even to the last, in his most solitary hours, this
personal neatness never relaxed, but the victory over disgust was a
real triumph over self, which no doubt was an element of happiness.

While the Bishop continued to go on the voyages with him, he had
companionship, guidance, and comparatively no responsibility, while
his success, that supreme joy, was wonderfully unalloyed, and he felt
his own especial gifts coming constantly into play. His love for his
scholars was one continual well of delight, and really seemed to be
an absolute gift, enabling him to win them over, and compensating for
what he had left, even while he did not cease to love his home with
deep tenderness.

Another pair of New Zealand friends had to be absent for a time.
Archdeacon Abraham's arm was so severely injured by an accident with
a horse, that the effects were far more serious than those of a
common fracture. The disaster took place in Patteson's presence.
'I shall never forget,' writes his friend, 'his gentleness and
consideration as he first laid me down in a room and then went to
tell my wife.'

It was found necessary to have recourse to English advice; the
Archdeacon and Mrs. Abraham went home, and were never again residents
at Auckland.

A letter to Mr. Justice Coleridge was written in the interval
between the voyages:--


'Auckland: June 12, 1857.