We give in our advertisement columns an appeal from the
Church in South Australia for the Church at Melrose, the only English Church, or place of Christian worship between Clare and Lake Hope,—an area of about 50,000 square miles. The building is completed, but wants windows, flooring, and seats, and is bur- dened with a debt of 2001. The drought of two years' duration has ruined the inhabitants for the time, and the clergyman of the district, the Ven. Archdeacon Twopeny, has received nothing during the last year. The Archdeacon, thus left without help from his parishioners, is doing a noble work in a noble way. He is a sort of Bush Xavier, out in all weathers, often risking his life in swimming a creek or looking up shepherds in nearly trackless wastes. He is so popular that the Dissenters at the mines 200 miles north of his station told him that if he would come to them, or even send them a curate, they would prefer it to having a minister of their own creed. Here, surely, is a man to whom the mother country owes much more than pecuniary assistance, —heart- felt gratitude. But the pecuniary assistance we ought at least to give.
Previous page
