CHAPTER XVI.
CONDITION OF THE COLONY.—NO. 2.
On arriving at Pieter Maritzburg I put up for a day or two
at the Royal Hotel which I found to be comfortable enough.
I had been told that the Club was a good club but that
it had not accommodation for sleeping. I arrived late on
Saturday evening, and on the Sunday morning I went, of
course, to hear Bishop Colonso preach. Whatever might be
the Bishop's doctrine, so much at any rate was due to his
fame. The most innocent and the most trusting young
believer in every letter of the Old Testament would have
heard nothing on that occasion to disturb a cherished conviction
or to shock a devotional feeling. The church itself
was all that a church ought to be, pretty, sufficiently large
and comfortable. It was, perhaps, not crowded, but was by
no means deserted. I had expected that either nobody
would have been there, or else that it would have been filled
to inconvenience,—because of the Bishop's alleged heresies.
A stranger who had never heard of Bishop Colenso would
have imagined that he had entered a simple church in which
the service was pleasantly performed,—all completed including
the sermon within an hour and a half,—and would
have had his special attention only called to the two facts
