In a street leading up from the post-office is a monolith, which is sure to be pointed out to the visitor. It is commemorative of a gallant act of British daring and generous self-sacrifice, and is worthy to be recorded. On the tablets, which face three sides of the pillar, you read—
This Monument
is raised to commemorate the generous
and noble self-sacrifice of those who
gladly encountered the peril of death in the
heroic endeavour to save their
fellow-men on Sunday, the 14th May, 1882,
when the City of Perth and the Benvenue
were wrecked at Timaru.
That a man lay down his life for his friends."
From the other tablets one learns that nine of the noble, self-sacrificing band perished, including Mills, the harbour-master, and Blacklock and Gardener, first and second mates of the City of Perth.
Timaru altogether was an intense surprise to me. I could scarcely realize the changes. The village had become a city. Nothing more forcibly brought home to me the marvellous progression of the age in which we live, and the resistless vitality and boundless resources of our race.
And what a contrast—to turn from the thronging streets, the crowded pier, the hum of commerce, and din of busy industries, and lift one's eyes to the calm white crests of the Eternal Hills. There they stood, ever the same, solemn and majestic in their changelessness. They blazed
