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at else； have been content to live on at this dreary spotan animal； eating and drinking； for tomorrow I die？ Yet it has been so。 My world； that world of which I once dreamt so much； has beenhere。 My famewhich was to reach the ends of the earth has penetrated to the neighbouring stations。 I am considered a 〃good preacher〃 by my sheep…feeding friends。 It is kind of them。
Yet； on the eve of leaving it； I confess that this solitary life has not been without its charms。 I have had my books and my thoughts though at times the latter were but grim companions。 I have striven with my familiar sin； and have not always been worsted。 Melancholy reflection。 〃Not always！〃 〃But yet〃 is as a gaoler to bring forth some monstrous malefactor。 I vowed； however； that I would not cheat myself in this diary of mine； and I will not。 No evasions； no glossings over of my own sins。 This journal is my confessor； and I bare my heart to it。
It is curious the pleasure I feel in setting down here in black and white these agonies and secret cravings of which I dare not speak。 It is for the same reason； I suppose； that murderers make confession to dogs and cats； that people with something 〃on their mind〃 are given to thinking aloud； that the queen of Midas must needs whisper to the sedges the secret of her husband's infirmity。 Outwardly I am a man of God； pious and grave and softly spoken。 Inwardlywhat？ The mean； cowardly； weak sinner that this book knows me。。。Imp！ I could tear you in pieces！。。。One of these days I will。 In the meantime； I will keep you under lock and key； and you shall hug my secrets close。 No； old friend； with whom I have communed so long； forgive me； forgive me。 You are to me instead of wife or priest。 I tell to your cold blue pages how much was it I bought you for in Parramatta； rascal？these stories； longings； remorses； which I would fain tell to human ear could I find a human being as discreet as thou。 It has been said that a man dare not write all his thoughts and deeds； the words would blister the paper。 Yet your sheets are smooth enough； you fat rogue！ Our neighbours of Rome know human nature。 A man must confess。 One reads of wretches who have carried secrets in their bosoms for years； and blurted them forth at last。 I； shut up here without companionship； without sympathy； without letters； cannot lock up my soul； and feed on my own thoughts。 They will out； and so I whisper them to thee。
What art thou； thou tremendous power Who dost inhabit us without our leave； And art； within ourselves； another self； A master self that loves to domineer？
What？ Conscience？ That is a word to frighten children。 The conscience of each man is of his own making。 My friend the shark…toothed cannibal whom Staples brought in his whaler to Sydney would have found his conscience reproach him sorely did he refuse to partake of the feasts made sacred by the customs of his ancestors A spark of divinity？ The divinity that； according to received doctrine； sits apart； enthroned amid sweet music； and leaves poor humanity to earn its condemnation as it may？ I'll have none of thatthough I preach it。 One must soothe the vulgar senses of the people Priesthood has its 〃pious frauds〃。 The Master spoke in parables。 Wit？ The wit that sees how ill…balanced are our actions and our aspirations？ The devilish wit born of our own brain； that sneers at us for our own failings？ Perhaps madness？ More likely； for there are few men who are not mad one hour of the waking twelve。 If differing from the judgment of the majority of mankind in regard to familiar things be madness； I suppose I am mador too wise。 The speculation draws near to hair…splitting。 James North； recall your early recklessness； your ruin； and your redemption； bring your mind back to earth。 Circumstances have made you what you are； and will shape your destiny for you without your interference。 That's comfortably settled！
Now supposingto take another canter on my night…marethat man is the slave of circumstances （a doctrine which I am inclined to believe； though unwilling to confess）； what circumstance can have brought about the sudden awakening of the powers that be to James North's fitness for duty？
HOBART TOWN； Jan。 12th。
〃DEAR NORTH；I have much pleasure in informing you that you can be appointed Protestant chaplain at Norfolk Island； if you like。 It seems that they did not get on well with the last man； and when my advic was asked； I at once recommended you for the office。 The pay is small； but you have a house and so on。 It is certainly better than Bathurst； and indeed is considered rather a prize in the clerical lottery。
〃There is to be an investigation into affairs down there。 Poor old Prattwho went down； as you know； at the earnest solicitation of the Governmentseems to have become absurdly lenient with the prisoners； and it is reported that the island is in a frightful state。 Sir Eardley is looking out for some disciplinarian to take the place in hand。
〃In the meantime； the chaplaincy is vacant； and I thought of you。〃
I must consider this seeming good fortune further。
February 19th。I accept。 There is work to be done among those unhappy men that may be my purgation。 The authorities shall hear me yetthough inquiry was stifled at Port Arthur。 By the way； a Pharaoh had arisen who knows not Joseph。 It is evident that the meddlesome parson； who complained of men being flogged to death； is forgotten； as the men are！ How many ghosts must haunt the dismal loneliness of that prison shore！ Poor Burgess is gone the way of all flesh。 I wonder if his spirit revisits the scenes of its violences？ I have written 〃poor〃 Burgess。
It is strange how we pity a man gone out of this life。 Enmity is extinguished when one can but remember injuries。 If a man had injured me； the fact of his living at all would be sufficient grounds for me to hate him； if I had injured him； I should hate him still more。 Is that the reason I hate myself at timesmy greatest enemy； and one whom I have injured beyond forgiveness？ There are offences against one's own nature that are not to be forgiven。 Isn't it Tacitus who says 〃the hatred of those most nearly related is most inveterate〃？ ButI am taking flight again。
February 27th； 11。30 p。m。Nine Creeks Station。 I do like to be accurate in names； dates； etc。 Accuracy is a virtue。 To exercise it； then。 Station ninety miles from Bathurst。 I should say about 4；000 head of cattle。 Luxury without refinement。 Plenty to eat； drink； and read。 Hostess's nameCarr。 She is a well…preserved creature； about thirty…four years of age； and a clever womannot in a poetical sense； but in the widest worldly acceptation of the term。 At the same time； I should be sorry to be her husband。 Women have no business with a brain like hersthat is； if they wish to be women and not sexual monsters。 Mrs。 Carr is not a lady； though she might have been one。 I don't think she is a good woman either。 It is possible； indeed； that she has known the factory before now。 There is a mystery about her； for I was informed that she was a Mrs。 Purfoy； the widow of a whaling captain； and had married one of her assigned servants； who had deserted her five years ago； as soon as he obtained his freedom。 A word or two at dinner set me thinking。 She had received some English papers； and； accounting for her pre…occupied manner； grimly said； 〃I think I have news of my husband。〃 I should not like to be in Carr's shoes if she has news of him！ I don't think she would suffer indignity calmly。 After all； what business is it of mine？ I was beguiled into taking more wine at dinner than I needed。 Confessor； do you hear me？ But I will not allow myself to be carried away。 You grin； you fat Familiar！ So may I； but I shall be eaten with remorse tomorrow。
March 3rd。A place called Jerrilang； where I have a head and heartache。 〃One that hath let go himself from the hold and stay of reason； and lies open to the mercy of all temptations。〃
March 20th。Sydney。 At Captain Frere's。Seventeen days since I have opened you； beloved and detested companion of mine。 I have more than half a mind to never open you again！ To read you is to recall to myself all I would most willingly forget； yet not to read you would be to forget all that which I should for my sins remember。
The last week has made a new man of me。 I am no longer morose； despairing； and bitter； but genial； and on good terms with fortune。 It is strange that accident should have induced me to stay a week under the same roof with that vision of brightness which has haunted me so long。 A meeting in the street； an introduction； an invitation the thing is done。
The circumstances which form our fortunes are certainly curious things。 I had thought never again to meet the bright young face to which I felt so strange an attractionand lo！ here it is smiling on me daily。 Captain Frere should be a happy man。 Yet there is a skeleton in this house also。 That young wife； by nature so lovable and so mirthful； ought not to have the sadness on her face that twice to…day has clouded it。 He seems a passionate and boorish creature； this wonderful convict disciplinarian。 His convictspoor devilsare doubtless disciplined enough。 Charming little Sy