told the story. One of the former great Governors, Lord Charles Somerset,—the greatest Governor the Colony ever had as far as a bold idea of autocratic authority can make a Governor great,—had wanted a shooting lodge under the mountains, and had consequently caused the Drotsdy house at Worcester to be built,—of course at the expense of the Crown. I can never reflect that such glorious days have gone for ever without a soft regret. There was something magnificent in those old, brave, unhidden official peculations by the side of which the strict and straight-laced honesty of our present Governors looks ugly and almost mean.
Worcester is a broad town with well arranged streets, not fully filled up but still clean,—without that look of unkempt inchoation which is so customary in Australian towns and in many of the young municipalities of the United States. The churches among its buildings are conspicuous,—those attracting the most notice being the Dutch Reformed Church, that of the Church of England,—and a church for the use of the natives in which the services are also in accordance with the Dutch Reformed religion. The latter is by far the most remarkable, and belongs to an Institution which, beyond even the large Drotsdy house, makes Worcester peculiarly worth visiting.
Of the Institution the Revd. Mr. Esselin is the Head, but was not the founder. There were I think two gentlemen in charge of a native mission before he came to Worcester;—but the church and schools have obtained their great success under his care. He is a German clergyman who came to
