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22 soon reared round the tent, and in its place the usual complement of first-rate pews and other fittings, with a neat pulpit and precentor’s desk. Near the kirk stands the manse—a neat, substantial brick building, overlooking the town of Castlemaine.

But I must not forget what was the first and only place of worship in the old Canvas Town, and before the present town had any proclaimed existence—the place where Professor Jackson preached. What his faith and practice were, was not well defined. A few well-meaning women went from tent to tent and got the willing offerings of all; a large tent was soon erected below the present parsonage, and where I gave the first course of lectures on scientific subjects delivered in Castlemaine. This was the birthplace of the national school; the platform for meetings of innumerable kinds; where Mr. Hitchcock's voice was often heard; where the professor delineated the characters and described the bumps of bystanders on week days, and denounced the pleasures of sin on Sundays. What lungs the professor had! I was never in the chapel when he preached, but at half-a-mile distant I have sat on Clinker’s Hill and listened to his discourse. There were some large trees then in the market square. He pitched a tent there, where he remained for a few months, when he disappeared from the scene. In front of this nondescript place stood a large tent on a hillock, near the site of the steam flour mill. This was the residence of an Italian; a large signboard was fixed in front bearing the name of John Baptiste, truss-maker. John found few trusses were required, and turned his attention to digging. I was passing the place one day and was called in to see a poor black man, who in a fit of religious frenzy had cut his throat. The poor fellow was quite dead. The truss-maker took it very much to heart, and made up his mind to dedicate himself and his home to God. He sold off his little property; sometimes went to church, sometimes to chapel; then stayed away from both; was seen by several ministers, but was inclined to have his own way; shut himself in, and converted the whole of a large substantial tent into a pretty little chapel, which was lined with red blankets, and the roof with white calico, the pulpit and seats all covered with red baize; a deal table, covered with a clean white cloth, stood before the pulpit—a bible on the one and a prayer-book on the other; a neatly-made chandelier was suspended from the ceiling, and the floor covered with cleanly washed stones, the tailings of the digger’s cradle. He offered the use of the place to all on Sunday, but none seemed disposed to accept his offer; nothing would satisfy them but the exclusive right to the place. However, the Mormons got hold of him. I called on him once and found the place lit up inside with at least a dozen candles. He was in the pulpit in a kind of surplice, and reading something to a soldier. I never saw him again. He called on me and left a long written testimony with reference to