130 MEMOIR OF DR. HARVEY. 



I am very busy gardening. This morning planted a large 

 patch with tomato-plants, from which we hope to have many a 

 meal — " chops and tomato-sauce." We have not yet been able 

 to procure a gardener — even a common labouring man — to dig 

 our ground, though we have been sending after them ever since 

 my arrival. 



I have not yet begun to botanise — having no horse, and fifteen 

 shillings is too much to pay every time I want to pick up some 

 weeds. I rise with the sun, and the time till breakfast is con- 

 sumed either watering or planting in the garden. So are my 

 evenings spent, and ten o'clock finds me ready for bed. I am 

 in perfect health and equal spirits — that is level — neither up 

 nor down — a plain — but not a fiat. I hope to get letters by 

 the Wellington next week. 



The following letters evince Mr. Harvey's freedom from sec- 

 tarian bias, and may serve to show how, with that same innate 

 love of truth which, from boyhood, he had held of such import- 

 ance in an investigation of the mysteries and wonders of the 

 natural kingdom, he now sought to discriminate between truth 

 and falsehood, as regarded the laws of Christ's kingdom upon 

 earth, and examined into the doctrines of the Chun-h of which 

 he eventually became so faithful a member and so able an 

 advocate. 



To a Cousin. 



Cape Town, March 25, 1841. 

 In reading " Wilberforce's Correspondence " to-day — a book 

 that contains many good-for-nothing letters, but several of an 

 opposite character — I was so much pleased with a passage that 

 occurs in one from Alexander Knox, the friend of Bishop Jebb, 

 that, as I cannot have the pleasure of reading it to you, 1 will 

 e'en transcribe, as I think it will find an answering chord in 

 your mind as it does in mine. The whole letter is interesting 

 but here is what I allude to : — 



"We cannot but persuade ourselves that the growing dis- 

 sonances in religion (which, in point of fact, are undeniable), 

 and the increasing cries of 'Lo ! Christ is here,' and, ' Lo ! Christ 

 is there,' will at length dispose the truly upright of heart to 

 pant after some more settled order of things than recent times 

 have exemplified. The jar of words, and the conflict of parties, 



