As we grew to love South Australia, we felt that we were in an expanding society, still feeling the bond to the motherland, but eager to develop a perfect society, in the land of our adoption.

I had learned what wealth was, and a great deal about production and exchange for myself in the early history of South Australia – of the value of machinery, of roads and bridges, and of ports for transport and export.

The first issue of The Register was printed in London, and gave a glowing account of the province that was to be – its climate, its resources, the sound principles on which it was founded.

Probably my mother’s life was prolonged beyond that of a long-lived family by her coming to Australia in middle life; and if I ever had any tendency to consumption, the climate must have helped me.

There is nothing so costly to the state as a ruined life.

Nothing is insignificant in the history of a young community, and – above all – nothing seems impossible.

In all my travels and visits I saw little of the theatre or concert room, and some of the candid confessions of Mrs. Oliphant might stand for my own.

Although my mother had the greatest love for Sir Walter Scott, and the highest appreciation of his poems and novels, she never liked Melrose.

But more important than all this was the fact that we took hold of the growth and development of South Australia, and identified ourselves with it.

I think my brother John profited less by the great advance of South Australia than he deserved for sticking to the Bank of South Australia.