{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_4952/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_4952","id":"gutenberg_4952","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4952","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Missions -- Melanesia","Patteson, John Coleridge, 1827-1871"],"text":"Produced by Sandra Laythorpe and Others\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIFE OF JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON:\n\nMISSIONARY BISHOP OF THE MELANESIAN ISLANDS\n\n\nBy Charlotte Mary Yonge\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note: This Etext of the Life of John Coleridge Patteson:\nMissionary Bishop of the Melanesian Islands, by Charlotte Mary Yonge\nwas prepared by Sandra Laythorpe and others. More information about the\nhistory of the Anglican Church may be found at Project Canterbury A web\npage for Charlotte M Yonge may be found at www.menorot.com/cmyonge.htm.\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\n\nThere are of course peculiar advantages as well as disadvantages in\nendeavouring to write the life of one recently departed. On the\none hand, the remembrances connected with him are far fresher; his\ncontemporaries can he consulted, and much can be made matter of\ncertainty, for which a few years would have made it necessary to trust\nto hearsay or probable conjecture. On the other, there is necessarily\nmuch more reserve; nor are the results of the actions, nor even their\ncomparative importance, so clearly discernible as when there has been\ntime to ripen the fruit.\n\nThese latter drawbacks are doubled when the subject of the biography has\npassed away in comparatively early life: when the persons with whom his\nlife is chiefly interwoven are still in full activity; and when he has\nonly lived to sow his seed in many waters, and has barely gathered any\nportion of his harvest.\n\nThus what I have written of Bishop Patteson, far more what I have\ncopied of his letters, is necessarily only partial, although his nearest\nrelations and closest friends have most kindly permitted the full use\nof all that could build up a complete idea of the man as he was. Many\nletters relate to home and family matters, such as it would be useless\nand impertinent to divulge; and yet it is necessary to mention that\nthese exist, because without them we might not know how deep was the\nlonely man's interest and sympathy in all that concerned his kindred\nand friends. Other letters only repeat the narrative or the reflections\ngiven elsewhere; and of these, it has seemed best only to print that\nwhich appeared to have the fullest or the clearest expression. In\ngeneral, the story is best told in letters to the home party; while\nthoughts are generally best expressed in the correspondence with Sir\nJohn Taylor Coleridge, to whom the Nephew seems to have written with\na kind of unconscious carefulness of diction. There is as voluminous\na correspondence with the Brother, and letters to many Cousins; but as\nthese either repeat the same adventures or else are purely domestic,\nthey have been little brought forward, except where any gap occurred in\nthe correspondence which has formed the staple material.\n\nLetters upon the unhappy Maori war have been purposely omitted; and, as\nfar as possible, such criticisms on living personages as it seemed fair\ntowards the writer to omit. Criticisms upon their publications are of\ncourse a different thing. My desire has been to give enough expression\nof Bishop Patteson's opinions upon Church and State affairs, to\nrepresent his manner of thinking, without transcribing every detail of\nremarks, which were often made upon an imperfect report, and were,\nin fact, only written down, instead of spoken and forgotten, because\ncorrespondence served him instead of conversation.\n\nI think I have represented fairly, for I have done my best faithfully\nto select passages giving his mind even where it does not coincide\ncompletely with my own opinions; being quite convinced that not only\nshould a biographer never attempt either to twist or conceal the\nsentiments of the subject, but that either to apologise for, or as it\nwere to argue with them, is vain in both senses of the word.\n\nThe real disadvantage of the work is my own very slight personal\nacquaintance with the externals of the man, and my ignorance of the\nscenes in which the chief part of his life was passed. There are those\nwho would have been far more qualified in these respects than myself,\nand, above all, in that full and sympathetic masculine grasp of a man's\npowerful mind, which is necessarily denied to me. But these fittest of\nall being withheld by causes which are too well known to need mention,\nI could only endeavour to fulfil the work as best I might; trusting\nthat these unavoidable deficiencies may be supplied, partly by Coleridge\nPatteson's own habit of writing unreservedly, so that he speaks for\nhimself, and partly by the very full notes and records with which his\nfriends have kindly supplied me, portraying him from their point of\nview; so that I could really trust that little more was needed than\nordinary judgment in connecting and selecting. Nor until the work is\nless fresh from my hand will it be possible to judge whether I have\nin any way been allowed to succeed in my earnest hope and endeavour to\nbring the statue out of the block, and as it were to carve the figure of\nthe Saint for his niche among those who have given themselves soul and\nbody to God's Work.\n\nIt has been an almost solemn work of anxiety, as well as one of love.\nMay I only have succeeded in causing these letters and descriptions to\nleave a true and definite impression of the man and of his example!\n\nLet me here record my obligations for materials--I need hardly say to\nthe immediate family and relations--for, in truth, I act chiefly as\ntheir amanuensis; but likewise to the Bishop of Lichfield, Bishop\nAbraham.\n\nLady Martin, the Rev. B. T. Dudley, the Rev. E. Codrington, and Captain\nTilly, for their valuable aid--the two first mentioned by correction and\nrevision, the others by contributions such as could only be supplied by\neye-witnesses and fellow-workers. Many others I must thank for kindly\nsupplying me with letters.\n\n\nCHARLOTTE MARY YONGE. ELDERFIELD, September 19, 1873.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I. CHILDHOOD AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL, 1827-1838.\n\n\n\nSo much of a man's cast of character depends upon his home and\nparentage, that no biography can be complete which does not look back\nat least as far as the lives of the father and mother, from whom the\ndisposition is sure to be in part inherited, and by whom it must often\nbe formed. Indeed, the happiest natures are generally those which have\nenjoyed the full benefit of parental training without dictation, and\nhave been led, but not forced, into the way in which they should go.\n\nTherefore it will not be irrelevant to dwell on the career of the father\nwhose name, though still of great weight in his own profession, may not\nbe equally known to the younger generation who have grown up since the\nwords 'Mr. Justice Patteson' were of frequent occurrence in law reports.\n\nJohn Patteson, father of the subject of the present memoir, was son to a\nclergyman of a Norfolk family, and was born at Coney Weston, on February\n11, 1790. He was educated at Eton, and there formed more than one\nfriendship, which not only lasted throughout his life, but extended\nbeyond his own generation. Sport and study flourished alike among such\nlads as these; and while they were taught by Dr. Groodall to delight\nin the peculiarly elegant and accurate scholarship which was the\ncharacteristic of the highest education of their day, their boyhood\nand youth were full of the unstained mirth that gives such radiance to\nrecollections of the past, and often causes the loyalty of affectionate\nassociation to be handed on to succeeding generations. The thorough\nEtonian impress, with all that it involved, was of no small account in\nhis life, as well as in that of his son.\n\nThe elder John Patteson was a colleger, and passed on to King's College,\nCambridge, whence, in 1813, he came to London to study law. In 1816 he\nopened his chambers as a special pleader, and on February 23, 1818, was\nmarried to his cousin, Elizabeth Lee, after a long engagement. The\nnext year, 1819, he was called to the Bar, and began to go the Northern\ncircuit. On April 3, 1820, Mrs. Patteson died, leaving one daughter,\nJoanna Elizabeth. Four years later, on April 22, 1824, Mr.\nPatteson married Frances Duke Coleridge, sister of his friend and\nfellow-barrister, John Taylor Coleridge. This lady, whose name to all\nwho remember her calls up a fair and sweet memory of all that was good,\nbright, and beloved, was the daughter of James Coleridge, of Heath's\nCourt, Ottery St. Mary, Devon, Colonel of the South Devon Volunteers. He\nwas the eldest of the numerous family of the Rev. John Coleridge, Master\nof Ottery St. Mary School, and the poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was\nthe youngest.\n\nThe strong family affection that existed between all Colonel Coleridge's\nchildren, and concentrated itself upon the only sister among them,\nmade marriage with her an adoption into a group that could not fail to\nexercise a strong influence on all connected with it, and the ties of\nkindred will be found throughout this memoir to have had peculiar force.\n\nJohn Coleridge Patteson, his mother's second child and eldest son, was\nborn at No. 9, Grower Street, Bedford Square, on the 1st of April,\n1827, and baptized on the 8th. Besides the elder half-sister already\nmentioned, another sister, Frances Sophia Coleridge, a year older than,\nand one brother, James Henry, nearly two years younger than Coleridge,\nmade up the family.\n\nThree years later, in 1830, Mr. Patteson was raised to the Bench, at the\nunusually early age of forty.\n\nIt is probable that there never was a period when the Judicial Bench\ncould reckon a larger number of men distinguished not only for legal\nability but for the highest culture and for the substantial qualities\nthat command confidence and respect. The middle of the nineteenth\ncentury was a time when England might well be proud of her Judges.\n\nThere was much in the habits of the Bench and Bar to lead to close and\nfriendly intimacy, especially on the circuits. When legal etiquette\nforbade the use of any public conveyance, and junior barristers shared\npost-chaises, while the leaders travelled in their own carriages, all\nspent a good deal of time together, and it was not unusual for ladies to\ngo a great part of the circuit with their husbands, especially when it\nlay in the direction of their own neighbourhood. The Judges' families\noften accompanied them, especially at the summer assize, and thus there\ngrew up close associations between their children, which made their\nintimacy almost like that of relationship. Almost all, too, lived in\nnear neighbourhood in those parts of London that now are comparatively\ndeserted, but which were then the especial abodes of lawyers, namely,\nthose adjacent to Bedford Square, where the gardens were the daily\nresort of their children, all playing together and knowing one another\nwith that familiarity that childhood only gives.\n\n'Sir John Patteson's contemporaries have nearly all, one by one, passed\naway,' writes one of them, Sir John Taylor Coleridge. 'He has left few,\nif any, literary monuments to record what his intellectual powers were;\nand even in our common profession the ordinary course and practice are\nso changed, that I doubt whether many lawyers are now familiar with his\nmasterly judgments; but I feel that I speak the truth when I describe\nhim as a man of singularly strong common sense, of great acuteness,\ntruthfulness, and integrity of judgment. These were great judicial\nqualities, and to these he added much simplicity and geniality of temper\nand manners; and all these were crowned by a firm, unhesitating, devout\nbelief in the doctrines of our faith, which issued in strictness to\nhimself and the warmest, gentlest charity to his fellow-creatures. The\nresult was what you might expect. Altogether it would be hard to\nsay whether you would characterise him as a man unusually popular or\nunusually respected.'\n\nSuch was the character of Mr. Justice Patteson, a character built upon\nthe deep, solid groundwork of religion, such as would now be called that\nof a sound Churchman of the old school, thoroughly devout and scrupulous\nin observance, ruling his family and household on a principle felt\nthroughout, making a conscience of all his and their ways, though\npromoting to the utmost all innocent enjoyment of pleasure, mirth, or\ngaiety. Indeed, all who can look back on him or on his home remember\nan unusual amount of kindly genial cheerfulness, fun, merriment, and\nfreedom, i.e. that obedient freedom which is the most perfect kind of\nliberty.\n\nThough this was in great part the effect of having such a head of the\nfamily, the details of management could not but chiefly depend upon\nthe mother, and Lady Patteson was equally loved for her tenderness and\nrespected for her firmness. 'She was, indeed,' writes her brother, 'a\nsweet and pious person, of the most affectionate, loving disposition,\nwithout a grain of selfishness, and of the stoutest adherence to\nprinciple and duty. Her tendency was to deal with her children fondly,\nbut this never interfered with good training and discipline. What she\nfelt right, she insisted on, at whatever pain to herself.'\n\nShe had to deal with strong characters. Coleridge, or Coley, to give him\nthe abbreviation by which he was known not only through childhood but\nthrough life, was a fair little fellow, with bright deep-blue eyes,\ninheriting much of his nature from her and her family, but not by any\nmeans a model boy. He was, indeed, deeply and warmly affectionate,\nbut troublesome through outbreaks of will and temper, showing all the\nordinary instinct of trying how far the authorities for the time\nbeing will endure resistance; sufficiently indolent of mind to use his\nexcellent abilities to save exertion of intellect; passionate to kicking\nand screaming pitch, and at times showing the doggedness which is such\na trial of patience to the parent. To this Lady Patteson 'never yielded;\nthe thing was to be done, the point given up, the temper subdued, the\nmother to be obeyed, and all this upon a principle sooner understood\nthan parents suppose.'\n\nThere were countless instances of the little boy's sharp, stormy gusts\nof passion, and his mother's steady refusal to listen to his 'I will be\ngood' until she saw that he was really sorry for the scratch or pinch\nwhich he had given, or the angry word he had spoken; and she never\nwaited in vain, for the sorrow was very real, and generally ended in\n'Do you think God can forgive me?' When Fanny's love of teasing had\nexasperated Coley into stabbing her arm with a pencil, their mother\nhad resolution enough to decree that no provocation could excuse 'such\nunmanliness' in a boy, and inflicted a whipping which cost the girl more\ntears than her brother, who was full of the utmost grief a child\ncould feel for the offence. No fault was lightly passed over; not that\npunishment was inflicted for every misdemeanour, but it was always\nnoticed, and the children were shown with grave gentleness where they\nwere wrong; or when there was a squabble among them, the mother's\nquestion, 'Who will give up?' generally produced a chorus of 'I! I! I!'\nWithal 'mamma' was the very life of all the fun, and play, and jokes,\nenjoying all with spirits and merriment like the little ones' own,\nand delighting in the exchange of caresses and tender epithets. Thus\naffection and generosity grew up almost spontaneously towards one\nanother and all the world.\n\nOn this disposition was grafted that which was the one leading\ncharacteristic of Coley's life, namely, a reverent and religious spirit,\nwhich seems from the first to have been at work, slowly and surely\nsubduing inherent defects, and raising him, step by step, from grace to\ngrace.\n\nFive years old is in many cases an age of a good deal of thought. The\nintelligence is free from the misapprehensions and misty perceptions of\ninfancy; the first course of physical experiments is over, freedom of\nspeech and motion have been attained, and yet there has not set in that\nburst of animal growth and spirits that often seems to swamp the deeper\nnature throughout boyhood. By this age Coley was able to read, and on\nhis birthday he received from his father the Bible which was used at his\nconsecration as Bishop twenty-seven years later.\n\nHe had an earnest wish to be a clergyman, because he thought saying the\nAbsolution to people must make them so happy, 'a belief he must have\ngleaned from his Prayer-book for himself, since the doctrine was not in\nthose days made prominent.' The purpose was fostered by his mother. 'She\ndelighted in it, and encouraged it in him. No thought of a family being\nto be made, and of Coley being the eldest son, ever interfered for a\nmoment. That he should be a good servant at God's altar was to her above\nall price.'\n\nOf course, however, this was without pressing the thought on him. He\ngrew on, with the purpose accepted but not discussed, except from time\nto time a half-playful, half-grave reference to himself as a future\nclergyman.\n\nReverence was strongly implanted in him. His old nurse (still his\nsister's valued servant) remembers the little seven years old boy, after\nsaying his own prayers at her knee, standing opposite to his little\nbrother, admonishing him to attention with 'Think, Jemmy; think.' In\nfact, devoutness seems to have been natural to him. It appears to have\nbeen the first strongly traceable feature in him, and to have gradually\nsubdued his faults one by one.\n\nWho can tell how far this was fostered by those old-fashioned habits\nof strictness which it is the present habit to view as repellent? Every\nmorning, immediately after breakfast, Lady Patteson read the Psalms and\nLessons for the day with the four children, and after these a portion\nof some book of religious instruction, such as 'Horne on the Psalms' or\n'Daubeny on the Catechism.' The ensuing studies were in charge of Miss\nNeill, the governess, and the life-long friend of her pupils; but the\nmother made the religious instruction her individual care, and thus\nupheld its pre-eminence. Sunday was likewise kept distinct in reading,\nteaching, employment, and whole tone of conversation, and the effect was\nassuredly not that weariness which such observance is often supposed to\nproduce, but rather lasting benefit and happy associations. Coley really\nenjoyed Bible-reading, and entered into explanations, and even\nthen often picked up a passage in the sermons he heard at St.\nGiles's-in-the-Fields from the Rev. J. Endell Tyler, and would give\nhis home-oracles no peace till they had made it as clear to his\ncomprehension as was possible.\n\nThe love of his home may be gathered from the fact that his letters have\nbeen preserved in an unbroken series, beginning from a country visit in\n1834, after a slight attack of scarlet fever, written in the round-hand\nof a boy of seven years old, and finished off with the big Roman\ncapitals FINIS, AMEN, and ending with the uncompleted sheets, bearing as\ntheir last date September 19, 1871.\n\nThe boy's first school was at Ottery St. Mary, in Devonshire, of which\nhis great-grandfather and great-uncle had both been head-masters.\n\nThere was much to make Ottery homelike to Coley, for his grandparents\nlived at Heath's Court, close to the church, and in the manor-house near\nat hand their third son, Francis George Coleridge, a solicitor, whose\nthree boys were near contemporaries of Coley, and two of them already in\nthe school.\n\nFrom first to last his letters to his parents show no symptom of\ncarelessness; they are full of ease and confidence, outpourings of\nwhatever interested him, whether small or great, but always respectful\nas well as affectionate, and written with care and pains, being\nevidently his very best; nor does the good old formula, 'Your\naffectionate and dutiful son,' ever fail or ever produce stiffness.\n\nThe shrinking from rough companions, and the desire to be with the\nhomelike relatives around, proved a temptation, and the little boy was\nguilty of making false excuses to obtain leave of absence. We cannot\nrefrain from giving his letter of penitence, chiefly for the sake of the\ngood sense and kindness of his uncle's treatment:--\n\n\n'April 26, 1836.\n\n'My dear Papa,--I am very sorry for having told so many falsehoods,\nwhich Uncle Frank has told mamma of. I am very sorry for having done so\nmany bad things, I mean falsehoods, and I heartily beg your pardon;\nand Uncle Frank says that he thinks, if I stay, in a month's time Mr.\nCornish will begin to trust me again. Uncle Frank to-day had me into his\nhouse and told me to reflect upon what I had done. He also lectured me\nin the Bible, and asked me different questions about it. He told me that\nif I ever told another falsehood he should that instant march into the\nschool and ask Mr. Cornish to strip and birch me; and if I followed the\nsame course I did now and did not amend it, if the birching did not do,\nhe should not let me go home for the holidays; but I will not catch the\nbirching...\n\n'So believe me your dear Son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nOn the flap of the letter 'Uncle Frank' writes to the mother:--\n\n\n'My dear Fanny,--I had Coley in my room to-day, and talked to him\nseriously about his misdeeds, and I hope good has been done. But I\ncould scarcely keep my countenance grave when he began to reduce by\ncalculation the exact number of fibs he had told. He did not think it\nwas more than two or three at the utmost: and when I brought him to\nbook, I had much to do to prevent the feeling that the sin consisted\nin telling many lies. However the dear boy's confession was as free\nas could be expected, and I have impressed on his mind the meanness,\ncowardice, and wickedness of the habit, and what it will end in here and\nhereafter. He has promised that he will never offend in future in like\nmanner, and I really believe that his desire to be away from the school\nand at ease among his friends induced him to trump up the invitations,\n&c., to Mr. Cornish, in which consisted his first fibs. I shall watch\nhim closely, as I would my own child; and Cornish has done wisely,\nI think, by giving the proper punishment of confining him to the\nschool-court, &c., and not letting him go to his friends for some time.\nThe dear boy is so affectionate, and has so much to work on, that there\nis no fear of him; only these things must be looked after promptly, and\nhe must learn practically (before his reason and religion operate) that\nhe gains nothing by a lie... He is very well, and wins one's heart in a\nmoment...\n\n'Ever your affectionate Brother,\n\n'F. G. C.'\n\n\nThe management was effectual, and the penitence real, for this fault\nnever recurred, nor is the boy's conduct ever again censured, though the\nhalf-yearly reports often lament his want of zeal and exertion. Coley\nwas sufficiently forward to begin Greek on his first arrival at Ottery,\nand always held a fair place for his years, but throughout his school\ncareer his character was not that of an idle but of an uninterested\nboy, who preferred play to work, needed all his conscience to make\nhim industrious, and then was easily satisfied with his performances;\nnaturally comparing them with those of other boys, instead of doing his\nown utmost, and giving himself full credit for the diligence he thought\nhe had used. For it must be remembered that it was a real, not an ideal\nnature; not a perfect character, but one full of the elements of growth.\n\nA childish, childlike boy, he was now, and for many years longer,\nintensely fond of all kinds of games and sports, in which his light\nactive form, great agility, and high spirit made him excel. Cricket,\nriding, running-races, all the school amusements were his delight;\nfireworks for the 5th of November sparkle with ecstasy through his\nletters, and he was a capital dancer in the Christmas parties at his\nLondon home. He had likewise the courage and patience sure to be needed\nby an active lad. While at Ottery he silently bore the pain of a broken\ncollar-bone for three weeks, and when the accident was brought to light\nby his mother's embrace, he only said that 'he did not like to make a\nfuss.'\n\nConsideration for others, kindness, and sweetness of nature were\nalways his leading characteristics, making him much beloved by all his\ncompanions, and an excellent guardian and example to his little brother,\nwho soon joined him at Ottery. Indeed, the love between these two\nbrothers was so deep, quiet, and fervid, that it is hard to dwell on\nit while 'one is taken and the other left.' It was at this time a rough\nbuffeting, boyish affection, but it was also a love that made separation\npain and grief, and on the part of the elder, it showed itself in\ncareful protection from all harm or bullying, and there was a strong\nunderlying current of tenderness, most endearing to all concerned with\nthe boys, whether masters, relations, friends, or servants.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II. BOYHOOD AT ETON. 1838--1845.\n\n\n\nAfter the Christmas holidays of 1837-8, when Coley Patteson was nearly\neleven years old, he was sent to Eton, that most beautifully situated\nof public schools, whose delightful playing fields, noble trees, broad\nriver, and exquisite view of Windsor Castle give it a peculiar charm,\njoining the venerable grandeur of age to the freshness and life of\nyouth, so as to rivet the affections in no common degree.\n\nIt was during the head-mastership of Dr. Hawtrey that Patteson became,\nin schoolboy phrase, an Eton fellow, being boarded in the house of his\nuncle, the Rev. Edward Coleridge, one of the most popular and successful\nEton masters. Several of his cousins were also in this house, with other\nboys who became friends of his whole life, and he was thoroughly happy\nthere, although in these early days he still felt each departure from\nhome severely, and seldom failed to write a mournful letter after the\nholidays. There is one, quite pathetic in its simplicity, telling his\nmother how he could not say his prayers nor fall asleep on his first\nnight till he had resolutely put away the handkerchief that seemed\nfor some reason a special link with home. It illustrates what all who\nremember him say, how thoroughly a childlike being he still was, though\na well-grown, manly, high-spirited boy, quite able to take care of\nhimself, keep his place, and hold his own.\n\nHe was placed in the lower remove of the fourth form, which was then\n'up to' the Rev. Charles Old Goodford, i.e. that was he who taught the\ndivision so called in school.\n\nThe boy was evidently well prepared, for he was often captain of his\ndivision, and his letters frequently tell of successes of this kind,\nwhile they anticipate 'Montem.'\n\nThat of 1838 was a brilliant one, for Queen Victoria, then only\nnineteen, and her first year of sovereignty not yet accomplished, came\nfrom the Castle to be driven in an open carriage to Salt Hill and bestow\nher Royal contribution.\n\nIn the throng little Patteson was pressed up so close to the Royal\ncarriage that he became entangled in the wheel, and was on the point\nof being dragged under it, when the Queen, with ready presence of mind,\nheld out her hand: he grasped it, and was able to regain his feet in\nsafety, but did not recover his perceptions enough to make any sign\nof gratitude before the carriage passed on. He had all a boy's shyness\nabout the adventure; but perhaps it served to quicken the personal\nloyalty which is an unfailing characteristic of 'Eton fellows.'\n\nThe Royal custom of the Sunday afternoon parade on the terrace of\nWindsor Castle for the benefit of the gazing public afforded a fine\nopportunity for cultivating this sentiment, and Coley sends an amusingly\nminute description of her Majesty's dress, evidently studied for\nhis mother's benefit, even to the pink tips of her four long ostrich\nfeathers, and calling to mind Chalon's water-colours of the Queen in\nher early youth. He finishes the description with a quaint little bit of\nmoralising. 'It certainly is very beautiful with two bands playing on\na calm, blessed Sunday evening, with the Queen of England and all her\nretinue walking about. It gives you an idea of the Majesty of God, who\ncould in one short second turn it all into confusion. There is nothing\nto me more beautiful than the raising one's eyes to Heaven, and thinking\nwith adoration who made this scene, and who could unmake it again.'\n\nA few days later the record is of a very different scene, namely,\nWindsor Fair, when the Eton boys used to imagine they had a prescriptive\nright to make a riot and revel in the charms of misrule.\n\n'On the second day the Eton fellows always make an immense row. So at\nthe signal, when a thing was acting, the boys rushed in and pulled down\nthe curtain, and commenced the row. I am happy to say I was not there.\nThere were a great many soldiers there, and they all took our part. The\nalarm was given, and the police came. Then there was such a rush at the\npolice. Some of them tumbled over, and the rest were half-knocked down.\nAt last they took in custody three of our boys, upon which every boy\nthat was there (amounting to about 450) was summoned. They burst open\nthe door, knocked down the police, and rescued our boys. Meantime the\nboys kept on shying rotten eggs and crackers, and there was nothing but\nrighting and rushing.'\n\nA startling description! But this was nothing to the wild pranks that\nlived in the traditions of the elder generation; and in a few years more\nthe boys were debarred from the mischievous licence of the fair.\n\nColey had now been nearly a year at Eton, and had proceeded through the\nlower and middle removes of the fourth form, when, on November 23, he\nachieved the success of which he thus writes:--\n\n'Rejoice! I was sent up for good yesterday at eleven o'clock school. I\ndo not know what copy of verses for yet, but directly I do, I will send\nyou a copy.... Goodford, when I took my ticket to be signed (for I was\nobliged to get Goodford, Abraham, and my tutor to sign it), said, \"I\nwill sign it most willingly,\" and then kept on stroking my hand, and\nsaid, \"I congratulate you most heartily, and am very glad of it.\" I am\nthe only one who is sent up; which is a good thing for me, as it will\ngive me forty or fifty good marks in trials. I am so splitting with joy\nyou cannot think, because now I have given you some proof that I have\nbeen lately sapping and doing pretty well. Do not, think that I am\npraising myself, for I am pretty nearly beside myself, you may suppose.'\n\nOne of his cousins adds, on the same sheet: 'I must tell you it is very\ndifficult to be sent up in the upper fourth form, and still more so in\nthe middle remove.'\n\nThe subject of the Latin verses which obtained this distinction was\na wreath or garland, and there must have been something remarkable in\nthem, for Mr. Abraham preserved a copy of them for many years. There\nwas something in the sweetness and docility of the boy, and in the\nexpression of his calm, gentle face, that always greatly interested the\nmasters and made them rejoice in his success; and among his comrades\nhe was a universal favourite. His brother joined him at Eton during the\nensuing year, when the Queen's wedding afforded the boys another glimpse\nof Royal festivity. Their tumultuous loyalty and audacity appear in\nColey's letter:--\n\n'In college, stretching from Hexter's to Mother Spier's was a\nmagnificent representation of the Parthenon: there were three pillars,\nand a great thing like this (a not over-successful sketch of a\npediment), with the Eton and Royal arms in the middle, and \"Gratulatur\nEtona Victoria et Alberto\" It cost \u00a3150, and there were 5,000 lamps hung\non it. Throughout the whole day we all of us wore large white bridal\nfavours and white gloves. Towards evening the clods got on Long Walk\nWall; and as gentle means would not do, we were under the necessity of\nknocking some over, when the rest soon jumped off. However, F---- and\nmyself declared we would go right into the quadrangle of the Castle,\nso we went into the middle of the road and formed a line. Soon a rocket\n(the signal that the Queen was at Slough) was let off, and then some\nLife Guards came galloping along, and one of them ran almost over me,\nand actually trod on F---'s toe, which put him into dreadful pain for\nsome time. Then came the Queen's carriage, and I thought college would\nhave tumbled down with the row. The cheering was really tremendous. The\nwhole 550 fellows all at once roared away. The Queen and Consort nodding\nand bowing, smiling, &c. Then F---- and I made a rush to get up behind\nthe Queen's carriage, but a dragoon with his horse almost knocked us\nover. So we ran by the side as well as we could, but the crowd was so\nimmensely thick, we could not get on as quick as the Queen. We rushed\nalong, knocking clean over all the clods we could, and rushing against\nthe rest, and finally F---- and myself were the only Eton fellows that\ngot into the quadrangle. As we got there, the Queen's carriage was going\naway. You may fancy that we were rather hot, running the whole way up to\nthe Castle, besides the exertion of knocking over the clods and knocking\nat doors as we passed; but I was so happy.'\n\nSuch is bliss at twelve years old!\n\nThe first half-year of 1839 had brought Patteson into the Remove, that\nlarge division of the school intermediate between the fourth and fifth\nforms. The work was harder, and his diligence somewhat relaxed. In fact,\nthe Coley of this period and of a good while later had more heart for\nplay than work. Cricket, bathing, and boating were his delight; and\nthough his school-work was conscientiously accomplished, it did not\ninterest him; and when he imagined himself to have been working hard and\nwell, it was a thunderbolt to him to find, at the end of the half-year,\nthat a great deal more had been expected of him by his tutor. It shows\nhow candid and sweet his nature was, that, just as when he was a little\nfellow at Ottery, his penitent letter should contain the rebuke he had\nreceived, without resentment against anyone but himself:--\n\n'Aunt has just called me down into the drawing-room and shown me my\ncharacter. I am stupefied at it; it is so shocking just when I most\nwanted a good one on account of mamma's health. I am ashamed to say that\nI can offer not the slightest excuse; my conduct on this occasion has\nbeen very bad. I expect a severe reproof from you, and pray do not send\nme any money, nor grant me the slightest [favour?]. Whilst .....,\nwho has very little ability (uncle says), is, by plodding on, getting\ncredit, I, who (my tutor says) have abilities, am wickedly neglecting\nand offending both my heavenly and earthly Father by my bad use of them.\nAunt called me into the drawing-room, and very kindly showed me the\nexcessive foolishness of my conduct; but from this very moment I am\ndetermined that I will not lose a moment, and we will see what the next\nthree weeks will produce.'\n\nPoor little fellow! his language is so strong that it is almost a\nsurprise to find that he was reproaching himself for no more heinous\nfault than not having worked up to the full extent of his powers! He\nkept his promise of diligence, and never again incurred reproof, but was\nsent up for good again in November. His career through the school was\nabove the average, though not attaining to what was expected from his\ncapabilities; but the development of his nature was slow, and therefore\nperhaps ultimately the more complete, and as yet study for its own sake\ndid not interest him; indeed, his mind was singularly devoid of pleasure\nin classical subjects, though so alert in other directions.\n\nHe was growing into the regular tastes of the refined, fastidious Eton\nboy; wrote of the cut of his first tail-coat that 'this is really an\nimportant thing;' and had grown choice in the adorning of his room and\nthe binding of his books, though he never let these tastes bring him\ninto debt or extravagance. His turn for art and music began to show\nitself, and the anthems at St. George's Chapel on the Sunday afternoons\ngave him great delight; and in Eton Chapel, a contemporary says, 'I well\nremember how he used to sing the Psalms with the little turns at the end\nof the verses, which I envied his being able to do.' Nor was this mere\nlove of music, but devotion. Coley had daily regular readings of the\nBible in his room with his brother, cousins, and a friend or two; but\nthe boys were so shy about it that they kept an open Shakespeare on the\ntable, with an open drawer below, in which the Bible was placed, and\nwhich was shut at the sound of a hand on the door.\n\nHitherto No. 33 Bedford Square had been the only home of the Patteson\nfamily. The long vacations were spent sometimes with the Judge's\nrelations in the Eastern counties, sometimes with Lady Patteson's in the\nWest. Landwith Rectory, in Cornwall, was the home of her eldest brother,\nDr. James Coleridge, whose daughter Sophia was always like an elder\nsister to her children, and the Vicarage of St. Mary Church, then a\nwild, beautiful seaside village, though now almost a suburb of Torquay,\nwas held by her cousin, George May Coleridge; and here the brothers and\nsisters climbed the rocks, boated, fished, and ran exquisitely wild\nin the summer holidays. Christmas was spent with the Judge's mother at\nIpswich, amongst numerous cousins, with great merriment and enjoyment\nsuch as were never forgotten.\n\nColonel Coleridge had died in 1836, his widow in her daughter's house\nin 1838, and Heath's Court had become the property of Mr. Justice\nColeridge, who always came thither with his family as soon as the\ncircuit was over. In 1841, Feniton Court, about two miles and a half\nfrom thence, was purchased by Judge Patteson, much to the delight of his\nchildren. It was a roomy, cheerful, pleasantly-situated house, with a\npiece of water in the grounds, the right of shooting over a couple of\nfarms, and all that could render boy life happy.\n\nFeniton was a thorough home, and already Coley's vision was, 'When I am\nvicar of Feniton, which I look forward to, but with a very distant\nhope, I should of all things like Fanny to keep house for me till I am\nmarried;' and again, when relating some joke with his cousins about\nthe law-papers, of the Squire of Feniton, he adds: 'But the Squire of\nFeniton will be a clergyman.'\n\nWhether this were jest or earnest, this year, 1841, brought the dawn\nof his future life. It was in that year that the Rev. George Augustus\nSelwyn was appointed to the diocese of New Zealand. Mrs. Selwyn's\nparents had always been intimate with the Patteson family, and the\ncuracy which Mr. Selwyn had held up to this time was at Windsor, so\nthat the old Etonian tie of brotherhood was drawn closer by daily\nintercourse. Indeed, it was from the first understood that Eton, with\nthe wealth that her children enjoyed in such large measure, should\nfurnish 'nerves and sinews' to the war which her son was about to wage\nwith the darkness of heathenism, thus turning the minds of the boys to\nsomething beyond either their studies or their sports.\n\nOn October 31, the Rev. Samuel Wilberforce, then Archdeacon of Surrey,\nand since Bishop of Oxford and of Winchester, preached in the morning at\nNew Windsor parish church, and the newly-made Bishop of New Zealand in\nthe afternoon. Coley was far more affected than he then had power to\nexpress. He says: 'I heard Archdeacon Wilberforce in the morning, and\nthe Bishop in the evening, though I was forced to stand all the time.\nIt was beautiful when he talked of his going out to found a church, and\nthen to die neglected and forgotten. All the people burst out crying,\nhe was so very much beloved by his parishioners. He spoke of his perils,\nand putting his trust in God; and then, when, he had finished, I think\nI never heard anything like the sensation, a kind of feeling that if it\nhad not been on so sacred a spot, all would have exclaimed \"God bless\nhim!\"'\n\nThe text of this memorable sermon was, 'Thine heart shall be enlarged,\nbecause the abundance of the sea shall be converted unto thee, the\nforces also of the Gentiles shall come unto thee.' (Is. lx. 5.) Many\nyears later we shall find a reference to this, the watchword of the\nyoung hearer's life.\n\nThe Archdeacon's sermon was from John xvii. 20, 21: 'Neither pray I for\nthese alone, but for them also which shall believe on Me through their\nword; that they all may be One, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in\nThee, that they also may be One in Us: that the world may believe that\nThou hast sent Me.' And here again we find one of the watchwords of\nColey's life, for nothing so dwelt with him and so sustained him as the\nsense of unity, whether with these at home in England, or with those in\nthe inner home of the Saints. When the sermon concluded with the words,\n'As we are giving of our best, as our Church is giving of her best, in\nsending forth from her own bosom these cherished and chosen sons, so let\nthere go forth from every one of us a consenting offering; let us give\nthis day largely, in a spirit of self-sacrifice, as Christian men, to\nChrist our Lord, and He will graciously accept and bless the offerings\nthat we make'--the preacher could little guess that among the lads who\nstood in the aisle was one in whom was forming the purpose of offering\nhis very self also.\n\nFor at that time Coleridge Patteson was receiving impressions that\nbecame the seed of his future purpose, and the eyes of his spirit were\nseeing greater things than the Vicarage of Feniton. Indeed, the subject\nwas not entirely new to him, for Edward Coleridge was always deeply\ninterested in missions, and had done his best to spread the like\nfeeling, often employing the willing services of his pupils in copying\nletters from Australia, Newfoundland, &c.\n\nWhen the Bishop of New Zealand came to take leave, he said, half in\nearnest, half in playfulness, 'Lady Patteson, will you give me Coley?'\nShe started, but did not say no; and when, independently of this, her\nson told her that it was his greatest wish to go with the Bishop, she\nreplied that if he kept that wish when he grew up he should have her\nblessing and consent.\n\nBut there was no further mention of the subject. The sisters knew what\nhad passed, but it was not spoken of to his father till long after, when\nthe wish had become purpose. Meantime the boy's natural development put\nthese visions into the background. He was going on with ordinary work\nand play, enjoying the pageantry of the christening of the Prince of\nWales, and cheering himself hoarse and half-frantic when the King of\nPrussia came to see the school; then on his father's birthday writing\nwith a 'hand quite trembling with delight' to announce what he knew\nwould be the most welcome of birthday presents, namely, the news that\nhe had been 'sent up' for a very good copy of seventy-nine verses,\n'all longs, on Napoleon e Seylhia profugus, passage of Beresina, and\nso forth.' His Latin verses were his strong point, and from this time\nforward he was frequently sent up, in all twenty-five times, an almost\nunprecedented number.\n\nIn fact he was entering on a fresh stage of life, from the little boy to\nthe lad, and the period was marked by his Confirmation on May 26, 1842.\nHere is his account both of it and of his first Communion. The soberness\nand old-fashioned simplicity of expression are worth remarking as tokens\nof the quietly dutiful tone of mind, full of reverence and sincere\ndesire to do right, and resting in the consciousness of that desire,\nwhile steadily advancing towards higher things than he then understood.\nIt was a life and character where advancement with each fresh imparting\nof spiritual grace can be traced more easily than usual.\n\nIt is observable too that the boy's own earnestness and seriousness of\nmind seem to have to him supplied the apparent lack of external aids to\ndevotional feeling, though the Confirmation was conducted in the brief,\nformal, wholesale manner which some in after-life have confessed to\nhave been a disappointment and a drawback after their preparation and\nanticipation:--\n\n'You will know that I have been confirmed to-day, and I dare say you all\nthought of me. The ceremony was performed by the Bishop of Lincoln, and\nI hope that I have truly considered the great duty and responsibility\nI have taken upon myself, and have prayed for strength to support me\nin the execution of all those duties. I shall of course receive the\nSacrament the first time I have an opportunity, and I trust worthily. I\nthink there must have been 200 confirmed. The Bishop gave us a very\ngood charge afterwards, recommending us all to take pattern by the\nself-denial and true devotion of the Bishop of New Zealand, on whom\nhe spoke for a long-while. The whole ceremony was performed with the\ngreatest decorum, and in the retiring and coming up of the different\nsets there was very little noise, and not the slightest confusion. I\nwent up with the first set, and the Bishop came round and put his hands\non the heads of the whole set (about forty), and then going into the\nmiddle pronounced the prayer. The responses were all made very audibly,\nand everyone seemed to be impressed with a proper feeling of the\nholiness and seriousness of the ceremony. After all the boys had been\nconfirmed about seven other people were confirmed, of whom two were\nquite as much as thirty, I should think.'\n\n\n'June 5.\n\n'I have just returned from receiving the Holy Sacrament in Chapel. I\nreceived it from Hawtrey and Okes, but there were three other ministers\nbesides. There was a large attendance, seventy or eighty or more Eton\nboys alone. I used the little book that mamma sent me, and found the\nlittle directions and observations very useful. I do truly hope and\nbelieve that I received it worthily... It struck me more than ever\n(although I had often read it before) as being such a particularly\nimpressive and beautiful service. I never saw anything conducted with\ngreater decorum. Not a single fellow spoke except at the responses,\nwhich were well and audibly made, and really every fellow seemed to\nbe really impressed with the awfulness of the ceremony, and the great\nwickedness of not piously receiving it, I do not know whether there\nwill be another Sacrament here before the holidays, or whether I shall\nreceive it with you at Feniton next time.'\n\n\nNo doubt the whole family (except the yet unconfirmed younger brother)\ndid so receive it in the summer holidays, the last that were to be\nspent in the full joy of an unbroken household circle, and, as has been\nalready said, one of unusual warmth and kindliness, binding closely\ninto it all who were connected therewith. Each governess became a\ndear friend; the servants were deeply attached, and for the most\npart fixtures; and one, the nurse already mentioned, says she never\nrecollects a time when Master Coley had to leave Feniton for London\nwithout his offering the servants to take charge of their messages or\nparcels. All dependents and poor people, in fact whatever came under\nJudge Patteson's genial, broad-hearted influence, were treated with\nthe like kindness, and everything alive about the place seemed full of\nhappiness and affection.\n\nThe centre of this bright home had always been the mother, fervently\nloved by all who came in contact with her, fragile in health, and\nonly going through her duties and exertions so cheerily by the quiet\nfortitude of a brave woman. In the course of this year, 1842, some\nsevere spasmodic attacks made her family anxious; and as the railway\ncommunication was still incomplete, so that the journey to London was a\ngreat fatigue to an invalid, her desire to spend Christmas in Devonshire\nled to her remaining there with her daughters, when her husband returned\nto London on the commencement of term.\n\nHe had been gone little more than a fortnight when, on November 17, a\nmore severe attack came on; and though she was soon relieved from it,\nshe never entirely rallied, and was firmly convinced that this was 'the\nbeginning of the end.' Her husband was summoned home, Judge Coleridge\ntaking a double portion of his work to set him at liberty, and the truth\nbegan to dawn on the poor boys at Eton. 'Do you really mean that there\nis anything so very, very dreadful to fear?' is Coley's cry in his note\none day, and the next, 'Oh, Papa, you cannot mean that we may never,\nunless we come down to Feniton, see mamma again. I cannot bear the\nthought of it. I trust most earnestly that it is not the case. Do not\nhide anything from me, it would make me more wretched afterwards. If it\nshall (which I trust in His infinite mercy it will not) please Almighty\nGod to take our dearest mamma unto Himself, may He give us grace to bear\nwith fortitude and resolution the dreadful loss, and may we learn to\nlive with such holiness here that we may hereafter be united for ever\nin Heaven.' This letter is marked twice over 'Only for Papa,' but the\nprecaution was needless, for Lady Patteson was accustoming all\nthose about her to speak freely and naturally of what she felt to be\napproaching. Her eldest brother, Dr. Coleridge, was greatly comforting\nher by his ministrations, and her sons were sent for; but as she did not\nask for them, it was thought best that they should remain at their Uncle\nFrank's, at Ottery, until, on the evening of Sunday, the 27th, a great\nchange took place, making it evident that the end was drawing near.\n\nThe sufferer was told that the boys were come, and was asked if she\nwould see them. She was delighted, and they came in, restraining their\ngrief while she kissed and blessed them, and then, throwing her arms\nround their father, thanked him for having brought her darling boys for\nher to see once more. It was not long before she became unconscious; and\nthough all the family were watching and praying round her, she showed no\nfurther sign of recognition, as she gradually and tranquilly fell asleep\nin the course of the night.\n\nTo his cousin, Mrs. Martyn, Coley wrote the following letter just after\nthe funeral:--\n\n'We only came down from our rooms to go to church, and directly the\nbeautiful service was over we went upstairs again. I need not tell you\nwhat we then felt, and now do feel. It is a very dreadful loss to us\nall; but we have been taught by that dear mother, who has been now taken\nfrom us, that it is not fit to grieve for those who die in the Lord,\n\"for they rest from their labours.\" She is now, we may safely trust, a\nblessed saint in Heaven, far removed from all cares and anxieties; and,\ninstead of spending our time in useless tears and wicked repinings, we\nshould rather learn to imitate her example and virtues, that, when we\ndie, we may sleep in Him as our hope is this our sister doth, and may be\nfinally united with her in Heaven. Yesterday was a day of great trial to\nus all: I felt when I was standing by the grave as if I must have burst.\n\n'Dear Papa bears up beautifully, and is a pattern of submission to us\nall. We are much more happy than you could suppose, for, thank God, we\nare certain she is happy, far happier than she could be on earth. She\nsaid once, \"I wonder I wish to leave my dearest John and the children,\nand this sweet place, but yet I do wish it\" so lively was her faith and\ntrust in the merits of her Saviour.'\n\nA deep and permanent impression was left upon the boy's mind, as will be\nseen by his frequent references to what he had then witnessed; but for\nthe present he was thought to be less depressed than the others, and\nrecovered his natural tone of spirits sooner than his brother and\nsisters. The whole family spent their mournful Christmas at Thorverton\nRectory, with Dr. and Mrs. Coleridge and their daughter Fanny, their\nchief comforters and fellow-sufferers; and then returned to London. The\nJudge's eldest daughter, Joanna, who had always been entirely one with\nthe rest, had to take her place at the head of the household. In her own\nwords, 'It was trying for a lad of fifteen and a half, but he was very\ngood, and allowed me to take the command in a way that few boys would\nnave done.'\n\n'It has struck me as remarkable that friends and relations have again\nand again spoken of different incidents as 'turning-points' in Coley's\nlife. If he had literally turned at them all, his would have been a\nmost revolving career; but I believe the fact to have been that he never\nturned at all, for his face was always set the right way, but that each\nof these was a point of impulse setting him more vigorously on his way,\nand stirring up his faithful will. Such moments were those of admission\nto religious ordinances, to him no dead letters but true receptions of\ngrace; and he likewise found incitements in sorrows, in failures, in\nreproofs. Everything sank deeply, and his mind was already assuming the\nintrospective character that it had throughout the period of growth and\nformation. One of his Eton companions, four years younger, has since\nspoken of the remarkable impression of inwardness Patteson made on him\neven at this time, saying that whenever he was taken by surprise he\nseemed to be only ruminating till he spoke or was spoken to, and then\nthere was an instant return to the outer world and ready attention to\nwhatever was in hand.\n\nThe spring found him of course in the full tide of Eton interests. The\nsixth and upper fifth forms, to the latter of which he had by this\ntime attained, may contend in the public examination for the Newcastle\nscholarship, just before the Easter holidays, and it is a great\ntestimony to a boy's ability and industry if his name appears among\nthe nine select for their excellence. This time, 1843, Coley, who\nwas scarcely sixteen, had of course but little chance, but he had the\npleasure of announcing that his great friend, Edmund Bastard, a young\nDevonshire squire, was among the 'select,' and he says of himself: 'You\nwill, as I said before, feel satisfied that I did my best, but it was an\nunlucky examination for me. It has done me a great deal of good in one\nway. It has enabled me to see where I am particularly deficient, viz.\ngeneral knowledge of history, and a thorough acquaintance with Greek and\nRoman customs, law courts and expressions, and Greek and Roman writers.\nI do not find myself wanting in making out a stiff bit of Greek or Latin\nif I have time, but I must read History chiefly this year, and then I\nhope to be selected next time. My tutor is not at all disappointed in\nme.'\n\nThis spring, 1843, Patteson became one of the Eleven, a perilously\nengrossing position for one who, though never slurring nor neglecting\nhis studies, did not enjoy anything so much as the cricket-field.\nHowever, there the weight of his character, backed by his popularity and\nproficiency in all games and exercises, began to be a telling influence.\n\nOn November 2, 1843, when the anniversary of his mother's death was\ncoming round, he writes to his eldest sister:--\n\n\n'I had not indeed forgotten this time twelvemonth, and especially that\nawful Sunday night when we stood round dear mamma's bed in such misery.\nI never supposed at that time that we could ever be happy and merry\nagain, but yet it has been so with me; and though very often the\nrecollection of that night has come upon me, and the whole scene in its\nmisery has passed before me, I hope I have never forgotten, that though\na loss to us, it was a gain to her, and we ought rather to be thankful\nthan sorrowful.... By the bye, I do not really want a book-case much,\nand you gave me the \"Irish Stories,\" and I have not yet been sent up. I\nwould rather not have a present, unless the Doctor means to give me an\nexercise. Do not lay this down to pride; but you know I was not sent up\nlast half, and if this passes, a blank again, I do not deserve any fresh\npresents.'\n\n\nThis piece of self-discipline was crowned by joyous notices of being\n'sent up for good' and 'for play' in the next half; when also occurs\na letter showing a spirit of submission to a restriction not fully\nunderstood:--\n\n\n'Tuesday evening.\n\n'My dearest Father,--Hearing that \"Israel in Egypt\" was to be performed\nat Exeter Hall on Friday night, I went and asked my tutor whether he had\nany objection to my running up that night to hear it, and coming back\nthe next morning, quite early at six. My tutor said that, without any\nabsurd feelings on the matter, he should not think himself of going to\nsuch a thing in Lent. \"It was not,\" he said, \"certainly like going to\nthe play, or any of those sort of places,\" but he did not like the idea\nof going at all. Do you think that there was any harm in the wish?\n\n'I do not ask because I wish you to write and say I may go, but because\nI wish to learn whether my asking at all was wrong. Even if you have no\nobjection, I certainly shall not go, because for such a trifling thing\nto act in opposition to my tutor, even with your consent, would be very\nfoolish.\n\n'...Good-bye, my dearest Father. God bless you, says your affectionate\nand dutiful Son,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThis year, 1844, the name of Patteson appeared among the 'select.'\n'I shall expect a jolly holiday for my reward,' he merrily says, when\nannouncing it to his sisters. He had begun to join the Debating Society\nat Eton, and for a while was the president. One of the other members\nsays, 'His speeches were singularly free from the bombast and\nincongruous matter with which Eton orators from fifteen to eighteen are\napt to interlard their declamations. He spoke concisely, always to the\npoint, and with great fluency and readiness. A reputation for good sense\nand judgment made his authority of great weight in the school, and his\nindependent spirit led him to choose, amongst his most intimate friends\nand associates, two collegers, who ultimately became Newcastle scholars\nand medallists.\n\n'That the most popular oppidan of his day should have utterly ignored\nthe supposed inferiority of the less wealthy section of the school, and\nlooked on worth and high character as none the worse for being clothed\nin a coarse serge gown, is a fact seemingly trivial to ordinary readers,\nbut very noticeable to Eton men. As a rank and file collegian myself,\nand well remembering the Jew and Samaritan state that prevailed between\noppidans and collegers, I remember with pride that Patteson did so much\nto level the distinctions that worked so mischievously to the school.\nHis cheerfulness and goodness were the surest guarantee for good order\namongst his schoolfellows. There was no Puritanism in him, he was up to\nany fun, sung his song at a cricket or foot-ball dinner as joyfully\nas the youngest of the party; but if mirth sank into coarseness\nand ribaldry, that instant Patteson's conduct was fearless and\nuncompromising....'\n\nHere follows an account of an incident which occurred at the dinner\nannually given by the eleven of cricket and the eight of the boats at\nthe hotel at Slough.\n\nA custom had arisen among some of the boys of singing offensive songs on\nthese occasions, and Coley, who, as second of the eleven, stood in the\nposition of one of the entertainers, gave notice beforehand that he was\nnot going to tolerate anything of the sort. One of the boys, however,\nbegan to sing something objectionable. Coley called out, 'If that\ndoes not stop, I shall leave the room;' and as no notice was taken,\nhe actually went away with a few other brave lads. He afterwards found\nthat, as he said, 'fellows who could not understand such feelings\nthought him affected;' and he felt himself obliged to send word to the\ncaptain, that unless an apology was made, he should leave the\neleven--no small sacrifice, considering what cricket was to him; but the\ngentlemanlike and proper feeling of the better style of boys prevailed,\nand the eleven knew their own interests too well to part with him, so\nthe apology was made, and he retained his position. The affair came to\nthe knowledge of two of the masters, Mr. Dupuis and Mr. Abraham, and\nthey gratified their warm sense of approbation by giving Patteson a bat,\nthough he never knew the reason why, as we shall see in one of his last\nletters to one of the donors.\n\nHis prowess at cricket must be described in the words of his cousin,\nArthur Duke Coleridge, who was at this time in college: 'He was by\ncommon consent one of the best, if not the best, of the cricketers of\nthe school. The second year of his appearance at Lord's Cricket Ground\nwas the most memorable, as far as his actual services were concerned, of\nall the matches he played against Harrow and Winchester. He was sent\nin first in the Harrow match; the bowling was steady and straight, but\nPatteson's defence was admirable. He scored fifty runs, in which there\nwas but one four, and by steady play completely broke the neck of the\nbowling. Eton won the match easily, Patteson making a brilliant catch at\npoint, when the last Harrow man retired. Full of confidence, Eton began\nthe Winchester match. Victory for a long time seemed a certainty for\nEton; but Kidding, the Winchester captain, played an uphill game so\nfiercely that the bowling had to be repeatedly changed. Our eleven were\ndisorganised, and the captain had so plainly lost heart, that Patteson\nresolved on urging him to discontinue his change of bowling, and begin\nafresh with the regular bowlers. The captain allowed Patteson to have\nhis way, and the game, though closely contested, was saved. His powers\nof defence were indeed remarkable. I saw the famous professional\ncricketer Lillywhite play once at Eton in his time, and becoming almost\nirritated at the stubbornness and tenacity with which Coley held his\nwicket. After scoring twenty and odd times in the first, and forty in\nthe second innings, (not out), Lillywhite said, 'Mr. Patteson, I should\nlike to bowl to you on Lord's Ground, and it would be different.' 'Oh,\nof course,' modestly answered Coley; 'I know you would have me out\ndirectly there.'\n\nThe next cricket season this champion was disabled by a severe sprain\nof the wrist, needing leeches, splints, and London advice. It was when\nfixing a day for coming up to town on this account that he mentioned the\noccurrence of the previous year in a letter to his father:--\n\n'I have a great object in shirking the oppidan dinner. I not only hate\nthe idea of paying a sovereign for a dinner, but last year, at the\ncricket dinner, I had a great row, which I might possibly incur another\ntime, and I wish very much to avoid.'\n\nThen, after briefly stating what had passed, he adds: 'At this dinner,\nwhere the captain of the boats manages it, I should be his guest, and\ntherefore any similar act of mine would make matters worse. You can\ntherefore see why I wish Tuesday to be the day for my coming up.'\n\nThe sprain prevented his playing in the matches at Lord's that summer,\nthough he was well enough to be reckoned on as a substitute in case any\nof the actual players had been disabled. Possibly his accident was good\nfor his studies, for this was a year of much progress and success; and\nthough only seventeen, he had two offers of tutorship for the holidays,\nfrom Mr. Dugdale and the Marchioness of Bath. The question where his\nuniversity life was to be spent began to come forward. Studentships at\nChristchurch were then in the gift of the Canons, and a nomination would\nhave been given him by Dr. Pusey if he had not been too young to begin\nto reside, so that it was thought better that he should wait and go up\nfor the Balliol scholarship in the autumn.\n\nIn the October of 1844 he describes to his eldest sister the reception\nof King Louis Philippe at Eton, accompanied by the Queen, Prince Albert,\nand the Duke of Wellington:\n\n'The King wore a white great coat, and looked a regular jolly old\nfellow. He has white frizzle hair and large white whiskers. The former,\nI suspect, is a wig. The cheering was tremendous, but behind the royal\ncarriage the cheers were always redoubled where the old Duke, the\nespecial favourite hero, rode. When they got off their horses in the\nschoolyard, the Duke being by some mistake behindhand, was regularly\nhustled in the crowd, with no attendant near him.\n\n'I was the first to perceive him, and springing forward, pushed back the\nfellows on each side, who did not know whom they were tumbling against,\nand, taking off my hat, cheered with might and main. The crowd hearing\nthe cheer, turned round, and then there was the most glorious sight I\never saw. The whole school encircled the Duke, who stood entirely alone\nin the middle for a minute or two, and I rather think we did cheer him.\nAt last, giving about one touch to his hat, he began to move on, saying,\n\"Get on, boys, get on.\" I never saw such enthusiasm here; the masters\nrushed into the crowd round him, waving their caps, and shouting like\nany of us. As for myself, I was half-mad and roared myself hoarse in\nabout five minutes. The King and Prince kept their hats off the whole\ntime, incessantly bowing, and the King speaking. He walked arm-in-arm\nwith the Queen, who looked well and very much pleased. The Duke walked\nwith that Grand Duchess whose name you may see in the papers, for I\ncan't spell it.'\n\nVery characteristic this both of Eton's enthusiasm for the hero, and of\nthe hero's undemonstrative way of receiving it, which must have somewhat\nsurprised his foreign companions.\n\nA week or two later, in November 1844, came the competition for the\nBalliol scholarship, but Coley was not successful. On the Saturday he\nwrites:--\n\n'The scholarship was decided last night; Smith, a Rugby man, got\nthe first, and Grant, a Harrow man, the second.... I saw the Master\nafterwards; he said, \"I cannot congratulate you on success, Mr.\nPatteson, but you have done yourself great credit, and passed a very\nrespectable examination. I shall be happy to allow you to enter without\na future examination, as we are all quite satisfied of your competency.\"\nHe said that I had better come up to matriculate next term, but should\nnot have another examination. We were in about nine hours a day, three\nhours in the evening; I thought the papers very hard; we had no Latin\nelegiacs or lyrics, which was rather a bore for the Eton lot. I am very\nglad I have been up now, but I confess it was the longest week I ever\nrecollect. I feel quite seedy after a whole week without exercise....\nThe very first paper, the Latin Essay (for which we were in six hours),\nwas the worst of all my papers, and must have given the examiners an\nunfavourable impression to start with. The rest of my papers, with the\nexception of the Greek prose and the critical paper, I did very fairly,\nI think.'\n\nA greater disappointment than this was, however, in store for Coley. He\nfailed in attaining a place among the 'select,' at his last examination\nfor the Newcastle, in the spring of 1845. Before the list was given out\nhe had written to his father that the Divinity papers were far too easy,\nwith no opportunity for a pretty good scholar to show his knowledge,\n'the ridicule of every one of the masters,' but the other papers very\ndifficult.\n\n'Altogether,' he adds, 'the scholarship has been to me unsatisfactory. I\nhad worked hard at Greek prose, had translated and re-translated a good\ndeal of Xenophon, Plato, and some Demosthenes, yet to my disappointment\nwe had no paper of Greek prose, a thing that I believe never occurred\nbefore, and which is generally believed to test a boy's knowledge well.\nMy Iambics were good, I expect, though not without two bad faults. In\nfact, I cannot look back upon a single paper, except my Latin prose,\nwithout a multitude of oversights and faults presenting themselves to\nme... I almost dread the giving out of the select. Think if my name was\nnot there. It is some consolation that Hawtrey, yesterday, in giving me\nan exercise for good, asked how I liked the examination. Upon my saying,\n\"It was not such a one as I expected, and that I had done badly,\" he\nsaid \"That is not at all what I hear,\" but this cannot go for much...\nI want exercise very badly, and my head is very thick and stupid, as I\nfear this last paper must show the examiners.'\n\nThe omission of Patteson's name from among the select was a great\nmortification, not only to himself but his father, though the Judge\nkindly wrote:--\n\n'Do not distress yourself about this unfortunate failure as to the\nNewcastle. We cannot always command our best exertions when we want to\ndo so, and you were not able on this occasion to bring forward all you\nknew. It was not from idleness or want of attention to school business.\nWork on regularly, and you will do well at Oxford. I have a line from\nyour tutor, who seems to think that it was in Juvenal, Cicero and Livy,\nand in Iambics, that the faults principally were. I cannot say that I am\nnot disappointed; but I know so well the uncertainty of examinations\nand how much depends on the sort of papers put, and on the spirits and\nfeeling one is in, that I am never surprised at such results, and I do\nnot blame you at all.' Those who knew Coley best agree in thinking that\nthis reverse took great effect in rousing his energies. This failure\nevidently made him take himself to task, for in the summer he writes to\nhis father:--\n\nThere are things which have occurred during my stay at Eton which\ncannot but make me blame myself. I mean principally a want of continuous\nindustry. I have perhaps for one half or two (for instance, last Easter\nhalf) worked hard, but I have not been continuously improving, and\nadding knowledge to knowledge, half by half. I feel it now, because I am\nsure that I know very little more than I did at Easter. One thing I am\nimproved in, which is writing themes; and you will be pleased to know\nthat Hawtrey has again given me the School Theme prize, worth 5L., which\ncounts for another sent up exercise.'\n\nIn reply, the Judge, on July 22, wrote in the midst of the circuit, from\nStafford, a letter that might well do a son's heart good:--\n\n'I rejoice in your finale, and shall be glad to see the exercise. You\nhave gone through Eton with great credit and reputation as a scholar,\nand what is of more consequence, with perfect character as to truth and\nconduct in every way. This can only be accounted for by the assistance\nof the good Spirit of God first stirred up in you by the instructions of\nyour clear mother, than whom a more excellent human being never existed.\nI pray God that this assistance may continue through life, and keep you\nalways in the same good course.'\n\nA few days more and the boy's departure from the enthusiastically loved\nschool had taken place, together with his final exploits as captain in\nthe cricket-field, where too he formed an acquaintance with Mr. C.\nS. Roundell, the captain of the Harrow eleven, which ripened into a\nlifelong friendship.\n\n'You may suppose,' writes Coley, 'that I was really very miserable at\nleaving Eton. I did not, I assure you, without thanking God for the many\nadvantages I have there enjoyed and praying for His forgiveness for my\nsin in neglecting so many. We began our match with Harrow yesterday, by\ngoing in first; we got 261 runs by tremendous hitting, Harrow 32, and\nfollowed up and got 55: Eton thus winning in one innings by 176 runs,\nthe most decided beating ever known at cricket.'\n\nSo ended Coleridge Patteson's school life, not reaching to all he saw\nthat it might have been; but unstained, noble, happy, honourable, and\nfull of excellent training for the future man. No sting was left to\npoison the fail-memory of youth; but many a friendship had been formed\non foundations of esteem, sympathy, and kindness which endured through\nlife, standing all tests of separation and difference.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III. UNDERGRADUATE LIFE AT BALLIOL AND JOURNEYS ON THE CONTINENT.\n\n1845--1852.\n\n\n\nUniversity life is apt to exert a strong influence upon a man's career.\nIt comes at the age at which there is probably the most susceptibility\nto new impressions. The physical growth is over, and the almost\nexclusive craving for exercise and sport is lessening; there is more\nvoluntary inclination to intellectual application, and the mind begins\nto get fair play. There is also a certain liberty of choice as to the\ncourse to be taken and the persons who shall become guides, and this\nrenders the pupilage a more willing and congenial connection than that\nof the schoolboy: nor is there so wide a distance in age and habits\nbetween tutor and pupil as between master and scholar.\n\nThus it is that there are few more influential persons in the country\nthan leading University men, for the impress they leave is on the flower\nof English youth, at the very time of life when thought has come, but\naction is not yet required. At the same time the whole genius loti,\nthe venerable buildings with their traditions, the eminence secured\nby intellect and industry, the pride that is taken in the past and\nits great men, first as belonging to the University, and next to the\nindividual college, all give the members thereof a sense of a dignity to\nkeep up and of honour to maintain, and a certainty of appreciation and\nfellow-feeling from the society with which they are connected.\n\nThe Oxford of Patteson's day was yet untouched by the hand of\nreformation. The Colleges were following or eluding the statutes of\ntheir founders, according to the use that had sprung up, but there had\nbeen a great quickening into activity of intellect, and the religious\ninfluences were almost at their strongest. It was true that the master\nmind had been lost to the Church of England, but the men whom he and his\ncompanions had helped to form were the leaders among the tutors, and the\nyouths who were growing up under them were forming plans of life, which\nmany have nobly carried out, of unselfish duty and devotion in their\nseveral stations.\n\nBalliol had, under the mastership of Dr. Jenkyns, attained preeminence\nfor success in the schools, and for the high standard required of its\nmembers, who formed 'the most delightful society, the very focus of\nthe most stimulating life of the University,' within those unpretending\nwalls, not yet revivified and enlarged.\n\nHere Coleridge Patteson came to reside in the Michaelmas term of 1845;\nbeginning with another attempt for the scholarship, in which he was\nagain unsuccessful, being bracketed immediately after the fourth with\nanother Etonian, namely, Mr. Hornby, the future head-master, His friend,\nEdmund Bastard, several of his relations, and numerous friends had\npreceded him; and he wrote to his sister Fanny:--\n\n'You cannot think what a nice set of acquaintance I am gradually\nslipping into. Palmer and myself take regular familiar walks; and\nRiddell, another fellow who is the pet of the College, came up the other\nevening and sat with me, and I breakfast with them, and dine, &c. The\nonly inconvenience attaching itself to such a number of men is, that\nI have to give several parties, and as I meant to get them over before\nLent, I have been coming out rather strong in that line lately, as the\npastry-cook's bill for desserts will show in good time.\n\n'I have been asked to play cricket in the University eleven, and have\ndeclined, though not without a little struggle, but cricket here,\nespecially to play in such matches as against Cambridge, &c., entails\nalmost necessarily idleness and expense.'\n\nThe struggle was hardly a little one to a youth whose fame in the\ncricket field stood so high, and who was never happy or healthy\nwithout strong bodily exercise. Nor had he outgrown his taste for this\nparticular sport. Professor Edwin Palmer (alluded to above) describes\nhim as at this time 'a thorough public schoolboy, with a full capacity\nfor enjoying undergraduate society and undergraduate amusements, though\nwith so fond a recollection of Eton that to some of us he hardly seemed\nto appreciate Oxford sufficiently.'\n\nAgain, Mr. Roundell (his late adversary at Lord's) says: 'He was a\nreluctant and half-interested sojourner was ever looking back to the\nplaying-fields of Eton, or forward to the more congenial sphere of a\ncountry parish.' So it was his prime pleasure and glory that he\nthus denied himself, though not with total abstinence, for he played\noccasionally. I remember hearing of a match at Ottery, where he was one\nof an eleven of Coleridge kith and kin against the rest of Devon. His\nreputation in the field was such that, many years later, when he chanced\nto be at Melbourne at the same time with the champion English eleven,\none of the most noted professional cricketers, meeting him in the\nstreet, addressed him confidentially, 'I know, sir, the Bishop of\nMelbourne does not approve of cricket for clergymen in public, but if\nyou would meet me in private at five o'clock to-morrow morning, and let\nme give you a few balls, it would be a great satisfaction!'\n\nSome resolution thus was required to prevent cricket from becoming a\ntyrant, as so often befalls those whose skill renders them valuable.\nTennis became Coley's chief recreation, enabling him to work off his\nsuperfluous energy at the expense of far less time than cricket matches\nrequire, and in this, as in everything active, he soon excelled.\n\nAs to the desserts upon which the young men in turn were spending a good\ndeal out of mere custom, harmlessly enough, but unnecessarily; as soon\nas the distress of the potato famine in Ireland became known, Patteson\nsaid, 'I am not at all for giving up these pleasant meetings, but why\nnot give up the dessert?' So the agreement was made that the cost should\nfor the present be made over to the 'Irish fund.'\n\nAnother friend of this period, now well known as Principal Shairp of St.\nAndrews', was then in the last year of a five years' residence. He has\nbeen kind enough to favour me with the following effective sketch of\nColey as an undergraduate:--\n\n'Patteson as he was at Oxford, comes back to me, as the representative\nof the very best kind of Etonian, with much good that he had got from\nEton, with something better, not to be got at Eton or any other school.\nHe had those pleasant manners and that perfect ease in dealing with men\nand with the world which are the inheritance of Eton, without the least\ntincture of worldliness. I remember well the look he then had, his\ncountenance massive for one so young, with good sense and good feeling,\nin fact, full of character. For it was character more than special\nability which marked him out from others, and made him, wherever he was,\nwhether in cricket in which he excelled, or in graver things, a centre\nround which others gathered. The impression he left on me was of quiet,\ngentle strength and entire purity, a heart that loved all things true\nand honest and pure, and that would always be found on the side of\nthese. We did not know, probably he did not know himself, the fire of\ndevotion that lay within him, but that was soon to kindle and make him\nwhat he afterwards became.'\n\nIn truth he was taking deep interest in the religious movement, though\nin the quiet unexcited way of those to whom such doctrines were only the\nfilling out of the teachings of their childhood. He was present at that\nsermon on the 'Entire Absolution of the Penitent,' with which, on the\nFourth Sunday after Epiphany, 1846, Dr. Pusey broke his enforced silence\nof three years.\n\nThe same evening Coley wrote to his sister Fanny:--\n\n'I have just returned from University sermon, where I have been\nlistening with great delight to Pusey's sermon on the Keys for nearly\ntwo hours. His immense benevolence beams through the extreme power\nof his arguments, and the great research of his inquiry into all the\nprimitive writings is a most extraordinary matter, and as for the\nhumility and prayerful spirit in which it was composed, you fancied he\nmust have been on his knees the whole time he was writing it. I went\nearly to Christ Church, where it was preached, and, after pushing\nthrough such a crowd as usually blocks up the entrance into Exeter Hall,\nI found on getting into the Cathedral that every seat was occupied.\nHowever, standing to hear such a man was no great exertion, and I never\nwas so interested before. It will probably be printed, so that you\nwill have no occasion for any remarks of mine. It is sufficient that he\npreached the doctrine to my mind in an invincible manner.' The letter\nhas a postscript--'Easter vacation will be from three weeks to a month.\nHurrah! say I; now a precious deal more glad am I to leave Oxford for\nthe holidays than Eton, though Feniton is better than either.'\n\nEven in the last undergraduate year, the preference for Eton remained as\nstrong as ever. Coley intended to remain at Oxford to read for honours\nthrough great part of the Long vacation; and after refreshing himself\nwith a run to Eton, he wrote:--\n\n'Now for a very disagreeable contrast, but still I shall find great\ninterest in my work as I go on, and reading books for the second or\nthird time is light work compared to the first stodge at them. I am,\nhowever, behindhand with my work, in spite of not having wasted much\ntime here.... I really don't see my way through the mass of work before\nme, and half repent having to go up for class.\n\n'...I went to the opera on Tuesday, but was too much taken up by Eton to\nrave about it, though Grisi's singing and acting were out and out; but,\nin sober earnest, I think if one was to look out simply for one's\nown selfish pleasure in this world, staying at Eton in the summer is\nparadise. I certainly have not been more happy, if so happy, for years,\nand they need no convincing there of my doting attachment to the place.\nI go down to Eton on Election Saturday and Sunday for my last enjoyment\nof it this year; but if I am well and nourishing in the summer of 1849,\nand all goes right with me, it is one of the jolliest prospects of my\nemancipation from the schools to think of a month at Eton. Oh! it's hard\nwork reading for it, I can tell you.'\n\nThus Coley Patteson's work throughout his undergraduate three years\nwas, so to speak, against the grain, though it was more diligent\nand determined than it had been at Eton. He viewed this as the least\nsatisfactory period of his life, and probably it was that in which he\nwas doing the most violence to his likings. It struck those who had\nknown him at Eton that he had 'shaken off the easy-going, comfortable,\nhalf-sluggish habit of mind' attributed to him there, and to be\nearnestly preparing for the future work of life. His continued interest\nin Missions was shown by his assisting to collect subscriptions for the\nSociety for the Propagation of the Gospel. In fact, his charm of manner,\nand his way of taking for granted that people meant to do what they\nought, made him a good collector, and he had had a good deal of practice\nat Eton in keeping up the boys to the subscription for the stained glass\nof the east window of the Chapel which they had undertaken to give.\n\nThat Long vacation of study was a great effort, and he felt it tedious\nand irksome, all the more from a weakness that affected his eyelids,\nand, though it did not injure his sight, often rendered reading and\nwriting painful. Slight ailments concurred with other troubles and\nvexations to depress his spirits; and besides these outward matters, he\nseems to have had a sense of not coming up to his ideal. His standard\nwas pitched higher than that of most men: his nature was prone to\nintrospection, and his constitutional inertness rendered it so\ndifficult for him to live up to his own views, that he was continually\ndissatisfied with himself; and this, in spite of his sweet unselfish\ntemper, gave his manner at home an irritability, and among strangers\na reserve--the very reverse of the joyous merry nature which used to\ndelight in balls, parties, and gaieties.\n\nThough an ardent friend, he became disinclined to enter into general\nsociety; nor was the distaste ever entirely overcome, though he never\nfailed to please by the charm alike of natural manner and of Christian\ncourtesy; the same spirit of gentleness and kindness very soon prevailed\nin subduing, even in family life, any manifestation of the tender points\nof a growing character.\n\nIn the autumn of 1849, he obtained a second class in the school of\nLiterae humaniores, a place that fairly represented his abilities as\ncompared with those of others. When the compulsory period of study\nwas at an end, his affection for Oxford and enjoyment of all that it\nafforded increased considerably, though he never seems to have loved the\nUniversity quite as well as Eton.\n\nAs he intended to take Holy Orders, he did not give up his residence\nthere; but his first use of his leisure was to take a journey on the\nContinent with his brother and Mr. Hornby. It was then that, as he\nafterwards wrote, his real education began, partly from the opening\nof his mind by the wonders of nature and art, and partly from the\ndevelopment of his genius for philology. Aptitude for language had\nalready shown itself when his sister Fanny had given him some German\nlessons; and even on his first halt at Cologne, he received the\ncompliment, 'Sie sprechen Deutsch wohl' and he found himself talking to\na German on one side and a Frenchman on the other.\n\nHis letters throughout his foreign travels are more copious than ever,\nbut are chiefly minute descriptions of what he saw, such as would weary\nthe reader who does not want a guide-book even full of individuality.\nYet they cannot be passed by without noticing how he fulfilled the duty\nof study and endeavour at appreciation which everyone owes to great\nworks of art, instead of turning aside with shallow conceit if he do not\nenter into them at first sight.\n\nAfter the wonders of Vienna and the mines of Salzburg, the mountain\nscenery of the Tyrol was an unspeakable pleasure, which tries to express\nitself in many closely written pages. Crossing into Italy by the Stelvio\nPass, a sharp but passing fit of illness detained Coley at Como for a\nday, and caused him to call in an Italian doctor, who treated him on the\nstarvation system, administered no medicines, and would take no fee.\nThe next day Coley was in condition to go on to Milan, where his\nfirst impression of the Cathedral was, as so often happens, almost of\nbewilderment. He did not at first like the Lombardo-Gothic style, but\nhe studied it carefully, and filled his letter with measurements and\nnumbers, though confessing that no part pleased him so much as the\npinnacles terminating in statues, 'each one a very beautiful martyr's\nmemorial.' Two more visits of several hours, however, brought the\nuntutored eye to a sense of the harmony of proportion, and the\nsurpassing beauty of the carvings and sculpture.\n\nIt did not need so much study to enjoy Lionardo da Vinci's great fresco,\nof which he wrote long and elaborately, and, altogether, Milan afforded\nhim very great delight and was a new world to him. It was the farthest\nlimit of his travels on this occasion. The party returned by way of\nGeneva; and Coley, alone with four guides, attempted the Col du Geant.\nThen following is his account of the danger in which he found himself:--\n\n'On Monday at 4.15 A.M. we started from the Montanvert, with our\nalpenstocks, plenty of ropes, and a hatchet to cut steps in the ice. We\nwalked quickly over the Mer de Glace, and in about three hours came to\nthe difficult part. I had no conception of what it would be. We had to\nascend perpendicular walls of ice, 30, 40, 50 feet high, by little\nholes which we cut with the hatchet, and to climb over places not a foot\nbroad, with enormous crevasses on each side. I was determined not to\ngive in, and said not a word, but I thought that no one had a right to\nexpose himself to such danger if known beforehand. After about three\nhours spent in this way, (during which I made but one slip, when I slid\nabout twelve feet down a crevasse, but providentially did not lose my\nhead, and saved myself by catching at a broken ridge of ice, rising\nup in the crevasse, round which I threw my leg and worked my way up it\nastride), got to the region of snow, and here the danger was of falling\ninto hidden crevasses. We all five fastened ourselves to one another\nwith ropes. I went in the middle, Couttet in front, then Payot. Most\nunluckily the weather began to cloud over, and soon a sharp hailstorm\nbegan, with every indication of a fog. We went very cautiously over\nthe snow for about three hours, sinking every now and then up to our\nmiddles, but only once in a crevasse, when Couttet suddenly fell,\nsinging out \"Tirez! tirez!\" but he was pulled out instantly. We had now\nreached the top, but the fog was so dense that I could scarcely see 30\nfeet before me, and the crevasses and mountains of snow looming close\nround us looked awful. At this moment the guides asked me if I must make\nthe passage. I said instantly that I wanted to do so, but that I would\nsooner return at once than endanger the lives of any of them. They told\nme there was certainly great danger, they had lost their way, but were\nunwilling to give up. For an hour and a half we beat about in the fog,\namong the crevasses, trying every way to find the pass, which is very\nnarrow, wet to the skin, and in constant peril; but we knew that the\ndescent on the Chamouni side is far more difficult than that on the\nCourmayeur side. At last all the guides agreed that it was impossible\nto find the way, said the storm was increasing, and that our only chance\nwas to return at once. So we did, but the fearful difficulties of the\ndescent I shall never forget. Even in the finest weather they reckon it\nvery difficult, but yesterday we could not see the way, we were numbed\nwith intense cold, and dispirited from being forced to return.\n\nIn many places the hail and sleet had washed out the traces we trusted\nas guides. After about four hours, we had passed the most dangerous\npart, and in another hour we were safely upon the Mer de Glace, which\nwe hailed with delight: Couttet, who reached the point of safety first,\njumping on the firm ice and shouting to me \"Il n'y a plus de danger,\nMonsieur.\" Here we took off the ropes, and drank some more brandy, and\nthen went as hard as we could, jumping across crevasses, which two days\nbefore I should have thought awkward, as if they were cart ruts. We\nreached Chamouni at 8.30 P.M., having been sixteen and a quarter hours\nwithout resting. I was not at all tired; the guides thanked me for\nhaving given so little trouble, and declared I had gone as well as\nthemselves. Indeed I was providentially unusually clear-headed and cool,\nand it was not till the danger was over that I felt my nerves give way.\nThere was a good deal of anxiety about us at Chamouni, as it was one\nof the worst days ever seen here. Hornby had taken all my clothes to\nGeneva, so I put on a suit of the landlord's, and had some tea, and at\n11 P.M. went to bed, not forgetting, you may be sure, to thank God most\nfervently for this merciful protection, as on the ice I did many times\nwith all my heart.\n\n'On reviewing coolly, to-day, the places over which we passed, and which\nI shall never forget, I remember seven such as I trust never again to\nsee a man attempt to climb. The state of the ice and crevasses is\nalways shifting, so that the next person who makes the ascent may find\na comparatively easy path. We had other dangers too, such as this: twice\nthe guides said to me, \"Ne parlez pas ici, Monsieur, et allez vite,\" the\nfear being of an ice avalanche falling on us, and we heard the rocks and\nice which are detached by the wet falling all about. The view from the\ntop, if the day is fine, is about the most magnificent in the Alps; and\nas in that case I should have descended easily on the other side, the\nexcursion would not have been so difficult. I hope you will not think I\nhave been very foolish; I did not at all think it would be so dangerous,\nnor was it possible to foresee the bad weather. My curiosity to see some\nof the difficulties of an excursion in the Alps is fully satisfied.'\n\nAfter this adventure, the party broke up, James Patteson returning\nhome with Mr. Hornby, while Coley, who hoped to obtain a Fellowship at\nMerton, and wished in the meantime to learn German thoroughly in order\nto study Hebrew by the light of German scholarship, repaired to Dresden\nfor the purpose; revelling, by the way, on the pictures and glass at\nMunich, descriptions of which fill three or four letters. He remained\na month at Dresden, reading for an hour a day with a German master, and\nspending many hours besides in study, recreating himself with German\nnewspapers at the cafe where he dined, and going to the play in the\nevening to hear colloquialisms. The picture galleries were his daily\nenjoyment, and he declared the Madonna di San Sisto fully equal to\nhis anticipations. There is that about the head of the Virgin which\nI believe one sees in no other picture, a dignity and beauty with a\nmixture of timidity quite indescribable.'\n\nReturning home for Christmas, Coley started again in January 1851, in\ncharge of a pupil, the son of Lord John Thynne, with whom he was to go\nthrough Italy. The journey was made by sea from Marseilles to Naples,\nwhere the old regime was still in force. Shakespeare and Humboldt\nwere seized; and after several hours' detention on the score of the\nsuspicious nature of his literature, Mr. Patteson was asked for a bribe.\n\nThe climate was in itself a great charm to one always painfully\nsusceptible to cold; and, after duly dwelling on the marvels of Vesuvius\nand Pompeii, the travellers went on to Rome. There the sculptures were\nColey's first delight, and he had the advantage of hints from Gibson on\nthe theory of his admiration, such as suited his love of analysis.\nHe poured forth descriptions of statues and pictures in his letters:\nsometimes apologising.--'You must put up with a very stupid and\nunintelligible sermon on art. The genius loci would move the very stones\nto preach on such a theme. Again: The worst is, that I ought to have\nmonths instead of days to see Rome in. I economise my time pretty well;\nbut yet I find every night that I can only do a little of what I propose\nin the morning; and as for my Italian, an hour and a half a day is on\nan average more than I give to it. I suffer a good deal from weakness in\nthe eyes; it prevents my working at night with comfort. I have a master\nevery other day. I tried to draw, but it hurt me so much after looking\nabout all day that I despair of doing anything, though I don't abandon\nthe idea altogether.'\n\nThere are many letters on the religious state of Rome. The apparently\ndirect supplications to the Saints, the stories told in sermons of\ndesperate sinners--saved through some lingering observance paid to\nthe Blessed Virgin, and the alleged abuse of the Confessional, shocked\nPatteson greatly, and therewith he connected the flagrant evils of the\npolitical condition of Rome at that time, and arrived at conclusions\nstrongly adverse to Roman Catholicism as such, though he retained\nuninjured the Catholic tone of his mind.\n\nIt was art which was the special attraction to Coley of all the many\nspells of old Rome. He spent much time in the galleries, and studied\n'modern painters' with an earnestness that makes Ruskinism pervade his\nletters.\n\nAt Florence, Coley wrote as usual at much length of the galleries, where\nthe Madonna del Cardellino seems to have been what delighted him most.\nHe did not greatly enter into Michel Angelo's works, and perhaps hardly\ndid their religious spirit full justice under the somewhat\nexclusive influence of Fra Angelico and Francia, with the Euskinese\ninterpretation. The delight was indescribable. He says:-- 'But I have\nwritten again and again on this favourite theme, and I forget that it is\ndifficult for you to understand what I write, or the great change that\nhas taken place in me, without seeing the original works. No one can\nsee them and be unchanged. I never had such enjoyment.' His birthday\npresents were spent on a copy of the beloved Madonna del Cardellino, of\nwhich he says:--'though it does not reach anything like the intensity\nof feeling of the original, is still a very excellent painting, and will\nalways help to excite in my imagination, and I hope to convey to you,\nsome faint image of the exceeding beauty of this most beautiful of all\npaintings.'\n\nReaders chiefly interested in the subsequent career of the missionary\nwould feel interrupted by the overflowing notes on painting, sculpture\nand architecture which fill the correspondence, yet without them, it is\nscarcely possible to realise the young man's intense enthusiasm for the\nBeautiful, especially for spiritual beauty, and thus how great was the\nsacrifice of going to regions where all these delights were unknown and\nunattainable. He went on to Venice, where he met a letter which gave a\nnew course to his thoughts, for it informed him that the deafness, which\nhad long been growing on his father had now become an obstacle to the\nperformance of his duties as a Judge, and announcing his intention of\nretiring.\n\nIn the fulness of his heart he wrote:--\n\n\n'Venice, Hotel de la Villa: May 2, 1851.\n\n'My dearest Father,--I have not been in Venice an hour yet, but little\ndid I expect to find such news waiting for me as is contained in Jem's\nletter, and I can lose no time in answering it. It is indeed a heavy\ntrial for you, that, in addition to many years of constant annoyance\nfrom your deafness, you should be obliged now, in the full vigour of\nyour mind, and with the advantage of your experience, to give up a\nprofession you so thoroughly delight in. I don't deny that I have\noften contemplated the possibility of such a thing; and I had some\nconversation with Uncle John last winter in consequence of my fancying\nyour deafness was on the increase, though the girls did not perceive it;\nI hope with all my heart I was wrong. I told him what I know you feel,\nthat, painful as it will be to you to retire from the Bench, if any\ndissatisfaction was expressed at your not hearing sufficiently what\npassed, you would choose rather to give up your seat than to go on\nunder such circumstances. His answer, I remember, was that it was most\ndifficult to know what to do, because it was no use concealing the fact\nthat your infirmity did interfere with the working of the Court more\nor less, on Circuit especially, and at other times when witnesses were\nexamined, but that your knowledge of law was so invaluable that it was\ndifficult to see how this latter advantage could fail to outweigh the\nformer defect; and everybody knew that they can't find a lawyer to fill\nyour place, though another man might do the ordinary circuit work with\ngreater comfort to the Bar; though therefore nobody is so painstaking\nand so little liable to make mistakes, yet to people in general and in\nthe whole, another man would seem to do the work nearly as well, and\nwould do his work, as far as his knowledge and conscientiousness went,\nwith more ease;--this was something like the substance of what passed\nthen, and you may suppose that since that time I have thought more about\nthe possibility of your retirement; but as I know how very much you will\nfeel giving up an occupation in which you take a regular pride, I do\nfeel very sorry, and wish I was at home to do anything that could be\ndone now. I know well enough that you are the last man in the world to\nmake a display of your feelings, and that you look upon this as a\ntrial, and bear it as one, just as you have with such great patience and\nsubmission (and dear Joan too,) always quietly borne your deafness; but\nI am sure you must, and do feel this very much, and, added to Granny's\nillness, you must be a sad party at home. I feel as if it were very\nselfish to be in this beautiful city, and to have been spending so much\nmoney at Florence. Neither did Joan, in her last letter, nor has Jem\nnow, mentioned whether you received two letters from Florence, the first\nof which gave some description of my vetturino journey from Rome to\nFlorence. I little thought when I was enjoying myself so very much\nthere, that all this was passing at home.... Your influence in the Privy\nCouncil (where I conclude they will offer you a seat) might be so good\non very important questions, and it would be an occupation for you;\nand I have always hoped that, if it should please God you should retire\nwhile still in the prime of life for work, you would publish some great\nlegal book, which should for ever be a record of your knowledge on these\nsubjects. However it may be, the retrospect of upwards of twenty years\nspent on the Bench with the complete respect and admiration of all your\nfriends, is no slight thing to fall back upon: and I trust that this\nfresh trial will turn to your good, and even happiness here, as we may\ntrust with safety it will hereafter.\n\n'Ever your very affectionate and dutiful Son,\n\n'JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON.'\n\n\nIn this winter of 1852, Mr. Justice Patteson's final decision to retire\nwas made and acted upon. The Judge delighted in no occupation so much as\nthe pursuit of law, and therefore distrusted his own opinion as to the\nmoment when his infirmity should absolutely unfit him for sitting in\nCourt. He had begged a friend to tell him the moment that the impediment\nbecame serious; and this, with some hesitation, was done. The intimation\nwas thankfully received, and, after due consideration, carried out.\n\nOn January 29, 1852, after twenty-two years on the Bench, and at the age\nof sixty-two, Mr. Justice Patteson wrote his letter of resignation to\nLord Truro, then Lord Chancellor, petitioning for the usual pension. It\nwas replied to in terms of warm and sincere regret; and on the 2nd of\nFebruary, Sir John Patteson was nominated to the Privy Council, as\na member of the Judicial Committee; where the business was chiefly\nconducted in writing, and he could act with comparatively little\nobstacle from his deafness.\n\nOn February 10, 1852, he took his leave of the Bar. The Court of Queen's\nBench was crowded with barristers, who rose while the Attorney-General,\nSir Alexander Cockburn, made an address expressive of the universal\nheartfelt feeling of respect and admiration with which the retiring\nJudge was regarded.\n\nJohn Patteson's reply, read with a voice broken by emotion, is so\ntouching in its manly simplicity and humility that a paragraph or two\nmay well be quoted:--\n\n'Mine,' he said, 'is one of the many instances which I know that a\npublic man without pre-eminent abilities, if he will but exert such\nas it has pleased God to bestow on him honestly and industriously,\nand without ostentation, is sure to receive public approbation fully\ncommensurate with, and generally much beyond, his real merits; and I\nthank God if I shall be found not to have fallen entirely short in the\nuse of those talents which He has entrusted to me.' Then, after some\nwords on the misfortune that necessitated his withdrawal, he continued,\n'I am aware that on some, and I fear too many, occasions I have given\nway to complaints and impatient expressions towards the Bar and the\nwitnesses in Court, as if they were to blame when, in truth, it was my\nown deficiency; and heartily sorry have I been and am for such want of\ncontrol over myself. I have striven against its recurrence earnestly,\nthough not always successfully. My brethren on the Bench, and you, and\nthe public, have been very kind and indulgent to me; the recollection of\nwhich will remain with, and be a great solace to me for the rest of my\nlife.\n\n'And now, gentlemen, I bid you farewell most affectionately. I wish\nyou many years of health and happiness, of success and honour in your\nliberal profession; the duties of which have been and are and I trust\never will be performed, not only with the greatest zeal, learning, and\nability, but with the highest honour and integrity, and a deep sense of\nresponsibility to God and to man, and which being so performed, are, in\nmy humble judgment, eminently conducive, under the blessing of God,\nto maintain the just prerogative of the Crown, and the true right,\nliberties, and happiness of the people.'\n\nHe then rose from the Judges' seat, and bowed his farewell to the\nassembly, who stood respectful and silent, except for some suppressed\ntokens of emotion, for in truth to many the parting was from an old\nfamiliar and much trusted friend.\n\nPrivate letters poured in, expressive of deep regret, esteem, and\naffection, and not only were gratefully read at the time, but became to\nthe family valuable memorials of the heartfelt appreciation gained by a\nhigh-minded and upright course of life, and evidences that their father\nhad done that which is perhaps the best thing that it is permitted to\nman to do here below, namely, 'served God in his generation.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. FELLOWSHIP OF MERTON. 1852--1854.\n\n\n\nIn the summer of 1852 Coleridge Patteson stood for a fellowship of\nMerton, obtained it, and moved into rooms there. Every college has a\ndistinctive character; and Merton, if not actually the eldest, is at\nleast one of the oldest foundations at Oxford, and is one of the most\nunchanged in outward aspect. There is a peculiar charm in the beauty and\nseclusion of the quadrangle, in the library, still mediaeval even to the\nfittings; and the church is above all impressive in the extraordinary\nloveliness of the early decorated architecture, and the space and\nloftiness of the choir. The whole, pre-eminently among the colleges,\ngives the sense of having been unaltered for five hundred years, yet\nstill full of life and vigour.\n\nColey attached himself to Merton, though he never looked to permanent\nresidence there. The Curacy in the immediate neighbourhood of his home\nwas awaiting him, as soon as he should be ordained; but though his\npurpose was unchanged and he was of full age for Holy Orders, he wished\nfor another year of preparation, so as to be able to study both Hebrew\nand theology more thoroughly than would be possible when pastoral labour\nshould have begun. What he had already seen of Dresden convinced him\nthat he could there learn Hebrew more thoroughly and more cheaply than\nat home, and to this he intended to devote the Long Vacation of 1852,\nwithout returning to Feniton. There the family were settling themselves,\nhaving given up the house in Bedford Square, since James Patteson had\nchambers in King's Bench Walk, where the ex-Judge could be with him when\nneeded in London. There had some notion of the whole family profiting\nby Sir John's emancipation to take a journey on the Continent, and the\nfailure of the scheme elicited the following letter:--\n\n\n'Merton: June 18.\n\n'My dearest Fan,--I can, to a certain extent, sympathise with you\nthoroughly upon this occasion; the mere disappointment at not seeing so\nmany interesting places and things is a sharp one, but in your instance\nthis is much increased by the real benefit you hoped to derive from\na warmer climate; and no wonder that the disappearance of your hopes\ncoupled with bodily illness makes you low and uncomfortable. The weather\ntoo is trying to mind and body, and though you try as usual to shake off\nthe sense of depression which affects you, your letter is certainly sad,\nand written like the letter of one in weak health. Well, we shall see\neach other, please GOD, at Christmas now. That is better than passing\nnearly or quite a year away from each other; and some other time I hope\nyou will be able to go to Italy, and enjoy all the wonders there, though\na tour for health's sake cannot be too soon. It is never too soon to get\nrid of an ailment....\n\n'I find that I am getting to know the undergraduates here, which is what\nI wanted to do; it is my only chance of being of any use. True, that I\nhave to do it at the expense of two half-days' cricketing, which I have\nquite ceased to care about, but I know that when I went up to Balliol,\nI was glad when a Fellow played with us. It was a guarantee for orderly\nconduct, and as I say, it gives me an opportunity of knowing men. I hope\nto leave London for Dresden on Monday week; Arthur is gone thither, as I\nfind out from Jem, and I hope the scheme will answer. If I find I can't\nwork, from my eyes, or anything else, preventing me, I shall come home,\nbut I have no reason to expect any such thing. My best love to Joan and\nall friends.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe 'Arthur' here mentioned was the youngest son of Mr. Frank Coleridge,\nand became Coley's companion at Dresden, where he was studying German.\nHe writes:--\n\n'Patteson spoke German fluently, and wrote German correctly. He had\nstudied the language assiduously for about two years previously, and so\nsuccessfully that whilst we were at Dresden, he was enabled to dispense\nwith a teacher and make his assistance little more than nominal.\nOccasionally he wrote a German exercise, but rather as an amusement\nthan a discipline, and merely with the view of enlarging his German\nvocabulary. I remember his writing an elaborate description of Feniton\nCourt, and imagining the place to be surrounded with trees belonging\nto all sorts of climates. The result was very amusing to ourselves, and\nadded to the writer's stock of words on particular subjects. When our\nmaster Schier appeared, the conversation was led by a palpable ambuscade\nto the topic which had been made the subject of Patteson's exercise, and\nconversation helped to strengthen memory. After looking over a few of\nPatteson's German exercises, Mr. Schier found so little to correct,\nin the way of grammatical errors, that these studies were almost\nrelinquished, and gave way to Arabic and Hebrew. Before we left Dresden,\nPatteson had read large portions of the Koran; and, with the aid\nof Hurwitz's Grammar and Bernhard's Guide to Hebrew Students, books\nfamiliar to Cambridge men, he was soon able to read the Psalms in the\noriginal. I remember the admiration and despair I felt in witnessing\nPatteson's progress, and the wonder expressed by his teacher in his\npupil's gift of rapid acquirement. We had some excellent introductions;\namongst others, to Dr. ----, a famous theologian, with whom Patteson was\nfond of discussing the system and organisation of the Church in\nSaxony. Up to the time of his leaving England he was constantly using\nOlshausen's Commentary on the New Testament, a book he was as thoroughly\nversed in as Archbishop Trench himself. I think that he consulted no\nother books in his study of the Gospels, but Olshausen and Bengel's\nGnomon.\n\n'In our pleasures at Dresden there was a mixture of the utile with the\ndulce. Our constant visits to the theatre were strong incentives to a\npreparatory study of the plays of Goethe, Schiller, and Lessing. What\nnoble acting we saw in that Dresden theatre!\n\n'With regard to the opera, I have never seen Weber or Meyerbeer's works\ngiven so perfectly and conscientiously as at Dresden. Patteson's chief\ndelight was the Midsummer Night's Dream, with Mendelssohn's music. He\nhad a tuneful baritone voice and a correct ear for music. We hired\na piano for our sitting-room; and, though I failed to induce him to\ncultivate his voice, and join me in taking lessons, he sang some of\nMendelssohn's Lieder very pleasingly, and knew most of the bass music\nfrom the Messiah by heart. He began to play a few scales on the piano,\nand hoped to surprise his sisters on his return to England by playing\nchants, but the Arabic and Hebrew studies proved too absorbing;\nhe grudged the time, and thought the result disproportioned to the\nsacrifice.\n\n'In our daily walks we talked constantly of Church matters. Some sharp\nand sad experiences in the loss of more than one of his Eton and Oxford\nfriends, who had abandoned the Church of England, failed to shake his\nconfidence in the Church he was to serve so faithfully and to die for\nso gloriously. His faith and daily practice seem to me a protest\nand warning against the folly, if not the falsehood, of extremes.\nModeration, quiet consistency of life, and unswerving loyalty to a faith\nwhich had been the joy and comfort of his dear mother, whose loveable\nnature he inherited and reflected, a blameless life and unfailing\ncharity enabled him when the time came to live a life of incessant toil,\nand face a martyr's death. I remember the present Bishop of Carlisle\ninciting Cambridge undergraduates to become, by virtue of earnestness,\ngentleness, and toleration, \"guides not judges, lights not firebrands.\"\nHe drew a perfect description of Patteson, who came more completely up\nto that ideal than anyone I ever knew. Here was a man capable of the\npurest and most tender friendship, with an exquisite appreciation of all\nthat is noblest in life, and he was ready to give up all, and content to\nlead the forlorn hope of Christianity, and perish in the front ranks\nof the noble army. \"And having been a little tried he shall be greatly\nrewarded, for God proved him, and found him worthy for Himself.\"'\n\nI have given this letter almost entire, because it shows the impression\nColey made on one, little his junior, in the intimate associations of\ncousin, neighbour, and schoolfellow, as well as travelling companion.\n\nThis year seems to have been a marked stage of development. He was now\ntwenty-five, and the boyish distaste for mental exertion which had so\nlong rendered study an effort of duty had passed into full scholarly\nenjoyment. The individuality and originality of his mind had begun to\nawaken, and influenced probably by the German atmosphere of thought\nin which he was working, were giving him that strong metaphysical bent\nwhich characterised his tone through life, and became apparent in his\nsermons when he addressed an educated audience.\n\nHere is a letter to his eldest sister: 'The weather has been better\nsuited for work, and I feel pretty well satisfied with my Hebrew. What\nmakes it so difficult is principally this, that as it is an Oriental\nlanguage, it is entirely different in structure, and in its inflections,\n&c., from any language I ever came across. I can't fall back upon\nanything already learnt to help me; but I see my way pretty clear now,\nand shall soon have little more than a knowledge of the meaning of the\nwords to learn, which is only a matter of patience, and can be learnt\nwith a good dictionary and practice. A real complete knowledge of the\ngrammar is of course the great thing.\n\n'The great Dresden fair, called the Vogelschiesser, is going on; it\nbegan last Sunday and ends next Sunday. About half a mile from the town\nthere is a very large meadow by the river, where a small town of booths,\ntents, &c., is erected, and where shooting at targets with wooden darts,\nsham railway-trains and riding-horses, confectionery of every kind,\nbeer of every name, strength, and colour, pipes, cigars, toys, gambling,\norgan-grinding, fiddling, dancing, &c., goes on incessantly. The great\nattraction, however, is the shooting at the bird, which occupies the\nattention of every Saxon, and is looked upon as the consummation of\nhuman invention and physical science. A great pole, nearly 80 feet high,\nis erected with a wooden bird, about the size of a turkey, at the top;\nto hit this with a crossbow from a regular stand, about 50 feet from\nthe foot of the pole, is the highest ambition of this great people. The\naccompaniments are rich in the extreme: cannon firing, drums rolling,\nfor a successful shot, the shooting society, who exist only for the sole\nhonour and glory of hacking this bird to pieces, the presence of the\nKing, I think to-day, and the intense interest taken in the amusement by\nthe whole population; certainly the Germans are satisfied with less than\nany people I ever saw (barring two things, smoke and beer, in which they\nare insatiable). I went out to see it all, but it rather bored me after\nan hour or so. Tom F---- and I threw some dice for a pair of braces for\nArthur, which we presented in due form; and we had some shots at the\ntargets--mine were eminently unsuccessful.\n\n'Last night we had a great treat. Emil Devrient, who has been acting in\nLondon, you know, came back, and acted Marquis Posa in \"Don Carlos.\" The\nplay acts very much better than it reads. Schiller certainly has great\ndramatic genius; only I agree with Goethe that there is always a longing\nfor exhibiting cruelty in its most monstrous form, and refinement of\ncruelty and depravity overstepping almost the natural conditions of\nhumanity. I always thought Iago about the most awful character in\nShakspeare; but Schiller's Philip II. is something beyond even this,\nwithout perhaps so much necessity for the exhibition of this absolute\ndelight in evil. It is long since I have been so excited in a theatre. I\nwas three rows from the stage, heard and understood everything, and\nwas so completely carried away by the grandeur and intense feeling of\nDevrient (who was well supported by the Don Carlos), that I had some\ndifficulty to keep quiet, and feel to-day rather odd, shaken, as it\nwere, from such a strain upon the feelings.'\n\nHere is a letter, enclosed within one to his sister Fanny on September\n9, written on a scrap of paper. The apologetic tone of confession is\namusing:--\n\n'My dearest Father,--I have not before told you that I have been at work\nfor just three weeks upon a new subject; reading, however, Hebrew every\nday almost for three hours as well. Schier is not a great Hebraist; and\nI found the language in one sense easier than I expected, so that with\ngood grammar and dictionary I can quite get on by myself, reading an\neasy part of the Bible (historical books, e.g.) at the rate of about\ntwenty-five verses an hour. Well, I began to think that I ought to use\nthe opportunities that Dresden affords. I know that Hebrew is not a\nrich language; that many words occur only once, and consequently have an\narbitrary meaning attached to them, unless they can be illustrated from\ncognate languages. Now I have a taste for these things, and have in\nthree weeks progressed so far in my new study as to feel sure I shall\nmake it useful; and so I tell you without fear I am working at Arabic. I\nhope you won't think it silly. It is very hard, and for ten days was as\nhard work as I ever had in my life. I think I have learnt enough to\nsee my way now, and this morning read the first chapter of Genesis\nin three-quarters of an hour. It is rich, beyond all comparison, in\ninflexions; and the difficulty arises from the extreme multiplicity\nof all its forms: e.g. each verb having not only active, middle,\nand passive voices, but the primitive active having not less than\nthirty-five derivative forms and the passive thirteen. The \"noun of\naction,\"--infinitive with article (to akonein) of the Greek--is again\ndifferent for each voice or form; and the primitive can take any of\ntwenty-two forms, which are not compounded according to any rule.\nAgain, there are twenty-eight sets of irregular plurals, which are quite\narbitrary. No grammarian has ever given any explanation about them.\nAll mere matters of memory. The very alphabet shows the richness of the\nlanguage. There are twenty-nine letters, besides vowel points; and each\nletter is written in four different ways, so that it is different when\nisolated, when in the beginning, middle, or end of a word. It took me\nsome hours to learn them. In very many respects, it is closely allied\nto the Hebrew, so that everybody who writes Hebrew grammars and lexicons\nnecessarily has much to do with Arabic; and a knowledge of it may be of\ngreat use in clearing up difficulties in the Bible. My year in Oxford\nwill enable me to go on with it, for in three weeks more I hope to be\nable to go on alone. To-morrow I begin the Koran. My lessons will not\nin all exceed 31; and I really should have gone on, perhaps, not much\nfaster with Hebrew if I had worked it exclusively; and it is hard to\nread so many hours at one thing: and I may say, now without doubt, that\nI have laid the foundation for a study of Oriental languages, if I have\ntime and opportunity that may be fairly given to them. Think what one\nhour a day is, and the pleasure to me is very great, and I feel that I\nhave a knack rather (if I may say so) of laying hold of these things.\nDon't mention it to anyone.'\n\nThere the fragment breaks off; and in a letter of August 29 there occurs\nthis reply to a message from his eldest sister:--\n\n'Thank dear Joan for her caution: I know I need it sadly, especially now\nwhen I am at work upon somewhat out-of-the-way subjects, and feel the\ndanger of forgetting that if I mistake the means for the end, and feel\ngratified with the mere intellectual amusement, I am doing very wrong,\neven when I am working very hard at very difficult matters. I like these\nthings, I must confess, and the time is so well adapted to work here,\nand now that the weather is cool I can secure every day a good long\ntime to myself.' In the enclosed letter he announces that he shall leave\nDresden in another three weeks. He says:--\n\n'We have had a steady working time of it here; and as I know some\nmembers of the family rather discourage these Continental flights, I\njust sum up the advantages thereof. Being naturally endowed with a love\nof music, the probability is, that when you, Clara, and Miss Horsley are\ntogether in the house, as soon as a Lied or Sonata began, away would\ngo my books, or at all events my thoughts. You know well that the piano\ngoes at all hours, and always in the morning at home. Then riding,\nwalking with Father, long sitting after dinner, &c. do not improve the\nchances for reading. In fact, you know that what with visitors from\nwithout, friends within, parties, &c., I should have had very little\nreading in the vacation, and that not through my own fault--not a\nStilbehen in the house could protect me from music. Here I make my own\ntime, and last week my eyes were troublesome. I walked twice every day,\nexactly at the hour when I most wanted it; and without nonsense, I may\nsay that I have in two months done really a great deal more than I could\nhave done at home even with masters. This all applies to Arthur just as\nmuch. He has read German exclusively most of the time, and knows as well\nas I do that it is not possible to work at home. If I could go on just\nas well as with Mendelssohn ringing in my ears, it would be different,\nbut I can't. You remember how pleasant, but how very idle, last vacation\nwas, and especially the last six weeks of it!'\n\nThen, after much about family matters, commissions, and little gifts\nwhich he was collecting for all at home--\n\nI should like to get something for everybody, but that is not possible.\nLuckily, my lessons are less expensive than I expected, and, considering\nthe work, wonderfully cheap. I make good progress, I can say; but the\ndifficulty is great enough to discourage any but a real \"grinder\" at\nsuch work. I have written a scrap for Father, and you will see that I\nam working away pretty well. I have finished my introductory book,\nconsisting of forty-one fables; and though difficulties present\nthemselves always to really good scholars from time to time, the Bible\nis not one of the hardest books, not so hard, e.g. as the Koran. Now\nI can at any future time, if the opportunity comes, go on with these\nthings, and I hope find them really useful. I know you like to hear what\nI am doing; but be sure to keep it all quiet, let no one know but Father\nand Joan. You might carelessly tell it to anyone in fun, and I don't\nwish it to be known. Especially don't let any of the family know. Time\nenough if I live out my Oxford year, and have really mastered the matter\npretty well. Remember this is taken up with a view to elucidate and\nexplain what is so very hard in Hebrew. Hebrew is to be the Hauptsache,\nthis the Hulfsmittel, or some day I hope one of several such helps. It\nis very important to accustom one's mind to the Denk and Anschauungswerk\nof the Orientals, which is so different from that of Europeans or their\nlanguage. How hard are the metaphors of the Bible for this reason!'\n\nThere is something in all these long apologies and strenuous desire for\nsecrecy about these Arabic studies that reminds one that the character\nwas a self-conscious introspective one, always striving for humility,\nand dreading to be thought presumptuous. A simpler nature, if devoid of\ncraving for home sympathy, would never have mentioned the new study at\nall; or if equally open-hearted, would have let the mention of it among\nhome friends take its chance, without troubling himself as to their\npossible comments. Indeed, it is curious to observe how elaborate he\nwas at this period about all his concerns, meditating over the cause of\nwhatever affected him. It was a form of growth; and dropped off when the\ntime of action arrived, and his character had shaped itself. It must be\nremembered, too, that his habit of pouring out all his reflections and\nfeelings to his sisters, and their preservation of his letters, have\nleft much more on record of these personal speculations than is common.\n\nHis father made a much simpler matter of the Arabic matter, in the\nfollowing characteristic letter:--\n\n\n'Feniton Court: September 14, 1852,\n\n'My dearest Coley,--So far from thinking you wrong in learning Arabic, I\nfeel sure that you are quite right. However, we shall keep your secret,\nand not say anything about it. I am heartily glad that you should\nacquire languages, modern as well as ancient. You know I have often\npressed the former on your and Jem's notice, from myself feeling my\ndeficiency and regret at it. I can well understand that Arabic, and I\nshould suppose Syriac also, must be of the greatest use towards a true\nunderstanding of much of the Old Testament: a great deal of which is\ndoubtless not understood by those who understand only our translation,\nor even the Septuagint, which I suspect to have many passages far from a\nfaithful vehicle of the meaning of the original. I was greatly delighted\nwith your theological letter, so to speak, as well as with the first,\nand look to have some jolly conversations with you on such subjects.\n\n'We have many more partridges than our neighbours, and Jem shoots\nuncommonly well. Three double shots yesterday. I shoot worse than usual;\nand cannot walk without much fatigue and frequent pain, so that I shall\nnot be able to work enough to get much sport. I got through the Mary\nChurch affair very well--that is, not making a fool of myself--and if\nI did not do much good, I think I did no harm. The Bishop of Exeter\n[Phillpotts] is mightily pleased, and wrote me a letter to that effect.\nOf course I cannot tell you what I said, it would be too long, nor are\nyou likely to see it. It was fully inserted in \"Woolmer,\" and from him\ncopied into the \"Guardian.\"\n\n'I live in hopes to see you well and hearty at Oxford on the 14th of\nOctober, till when, adieu, God bless you.\n\n'Your affectionate Father,\n\n'J. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe interview with the Bishop of Sydney never took place, for the\nexcellent Bishop Broughton arrived with health shattered by his\nattendance on the sufferers from fever in the ship which brought him\nfrom St. Thomas, and he did not long survive his landing.\n\nThe 'Mary Church affair' here referred to was the laying the\nfoundation-stone of the Church, built or restored, it is hard to say\nwhich, on the lines of the former one, and preserving the old tower,\nat St. Mary Church, near Torquay. Though the death of the Rev. Gr. M.\nColeridge had broken one tie with the place, it continued to be much\nbeloved by the Patteson family, and Sir John had taken so much share\nin the church-building work as to be asked to be the layer of the\ncorner-stone. The speech he made at the ensuing luncheon excited much\nattention and the sisters took care that their brother should not\nmiss reading it. The stay at Dresden was drawing to an end; and he was\npreparing to return through Berlin, intending to go direct to Oxford and\nreside there till the summer, when he meant to seek ordination and enter\non the Curacy at Alfington. He says to his sister Joanna:--\n\n'It is a long time to pass without seeing you, but I hope, if it please\nGod that we all live on together, that it will be long before such\nanother interval occurs. I have not grown out of an occasional fit of\nhome sickness yet; and on these occasions Arthur and I talk incessantly\nabout domestic matters, and indulge our fancies in conjecturing what you\nare all doing, and so forth. I followed Joan and Clara's trip, step\nby step, from the Den at Teignmouth to St. Mary Church, Oddiscombe,\nRabbicombe, Anstey's Cave, Meadfoot, &c. How I remember every inch of\nthe dear old places! Better than the mud banks at Felixstowe, are they\nnot, Clara? I shall keep always the scrap from the \"Guardian\" with\nFather's speech. I don't think I remember any speech on a similar\noccasion so thoroughly good, and so likely to do good. Plain, sensible,\nand manly, no question of words and unimportant differences of opinion;\nno cant, high or low, just like himself. I pray I may have but a tenth\npart of his honesty and freedom from prejudice and party spirit. It\nmay come, under God's blessing, if a man's mind is earnestly set on the\ntruth; but the danger is of setting up your own exclusive standard of\ntruth, moral and intellectual. Father certainly is more free from it\nthan any man we ever knew. He tells me in his letter that the Bishop\nof Sydney is coming home to consult people in England about Synodical\nAction, &c., and that he is going to meet him and explain to him certain\ndifficulties and mistakes into which he has fallen with regard to\nadministering the Oath of Abjuration and the like matters. How few\npeople, comparatively, know the influence Father exercises in this way\nbehind the scenes, as it were. His intimacy with so many of the Bishops,\ntoo, makes his position really of very great importance. I don't want to\nmagnify, but the more I think of him, and know how very few men they are\nthat command such general respect, and bear such a character with all\nmen for uprightness and singleness of purpose, it is very difficult to\nknow how his place could be supplied when we throw his legal knowledge\nover and above into the scale. I hope he will write: I am quite certain\nthat his opinion will exercise a great influence on very many people.\nSuch a speech as this at Mary Church embodies exactly the sense of\na considerable number of the most prudent and most able men of the\ncountry, and his position and character give it extra weight, and that\nwould be so equally with his book as with his speech. How delightful it\nwill be to have him at Oxford. He means to come in time for dinner\non the 14th, and go away on the 16th; but if he likes it, he will, I\ndaresay, stop now and then on his way to town and back. Jem will not be\nback in town when he goes up for the Judicial Committee work, so he will\nbe rather solitary there, won't he. I am not, however, sure about the\nnumber of weeks Jem must reside to keep his term....'\n\nThe enjoyment of the last few days at Dresden 'was much marred by\na heavy cold, caught by going to see an admirable representation of\n'Egmont,' the last of these theatrical treats so highly appreciated. The\njourney to Berlin, before the cold was shaken off, resulted in an attack\nof illness; and he was so heavy and uncomfortable as to be unable to\navail himself of his opportunities of interesting introductions.\n\nHe returned to his rooms at Merton direct from Germany. Like many men\nwho have come back to Oxford at a riper age than that of undergraduate\nlife, he now entered into the higher privileges and enjoyments of the\nUniversity, the studies, friendships, and influences, as early youth\nsometimes fails to do. He was felt by his Oxford friends to have greatly\ndeveloped since his Balliol terms had been over and the Eton boy left\nbehind. Study was no longer a toil and conscientious effort. It\nhad become a prime pleasure; and men wondered to find the plodding,\naccurate, but unenthusiastic student of three years back, a linguist and\nphilologist of no common power and attainment. Mr. Roundell says, 'He\nhad become quite another person. Self-cultivation had done much for him.\nLiterature and art had opened his mind and enlarged his interests and\nsympathies. The moral and spiritual forces of the man were now vivified,\nrefined, and strengthened by the awakening of his intellectual and\nesthetic nature.'\n\nEver reaching forward, however, he was on his guard against, as he said,\nmaking the means the end. Languages were his pleasure, but a pleasure\nheld in check as only subservient to his preparation for the ministry.\nHe did not mean to use them to the acquirement of academical honour\nnor promotion, nor did he even rest in the intellectual delight of\ninvestigation; he intended them only as keys to the better appreciation\nof the Scriptures and of the doctrines of the Church, unaware as yet\nthat the gift he was cultivating would be of inestimable value in far\ndistant regions.\n\nIn February, while Sir John Patteson was in London, his son James was\nthe cause of much alarm, owing to a mistake by which he swallowed an\nembrocation containing a large amount of laudanum. Prompt measures,\nhowever, prevented any ill effects; and all danger was over before the\nletter was sent off which informed Coley of what had happened; but the\nbare idea of the peril was a great shock to one of such warm affections,\nand so deeply attached to his only brother. He wrote the two following\nletters to his father and sisters on the first impulse on the receipt of\nthe intelligence:--\n\n\n'Shrove Tuesday.\n\n'My dearest Father,--I believe I speak truly when I say that I never in\nmy life felt so thoroughly thankful and grateful to God for His great\nmercy as I did this morning, on reading of dear Jem's danger and safety.\nHe is less accustomed to talk about his feelings than I am, in which\nI see his superiority, but partly because our tastes are in several\nrespects different, chiefly because of his exceeding amiability and\nunselfishness. I am sure we love each other very dearly. Ever since\nhis illness at Geneva, I have from time to time contemplated the utter\nblank, the real feeling of loss, which anything happening to him would\nbring with it, and the having it brought home close to me in this way\nquite upset me, as it well might. I pray God that no ill effects may\nfollow, and from what you say I apprehend none. I have often thought\nthat it is much better when two brothers propose to themselves different\nobjects in life, and pursue them with tastes dissimilar on unimportant\nmatters. They act better upon one another; just as I look to Jem, as I\nhave more than once told him, to give me a hint when he sees a want of\ncommon sense in anything I take up, because I know I act a good deal\nfrom impulse, and take an interest in many things which are perhaps not\nworth the time I spend on them. It is a mercy that I hope I shall never\nforget, never cease to be thankful for. Many and many a time, if it\nplease God, I shall look to him in difficulties, and remember how nearly\nonce he was lost to me. I can get away with the greatest ease for a few\ndays on Thursday if desirable, and perhaps old Jem will feel low after\nthis, when you have left him. I think this very likely, from what I know\nof him, and if you think it too, without asking him if he would like it,\nI will come up for some other reason. You will not go, I know, unless\nhe is perfectly well; but he might, and I think would, like to have some\none with him just at first. Let me know what you think.\n\n'Good-bye, my dearest father.\n\n'Ever your affectionate and dutiful son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\n'Merton, Shrove Tuesday.\n\n'My dearest Joan and Fan,--How we must all have united this morning in\npouring out our thanks to God for His great mercy! You will not suspect\nme of being wanting in love to you, if I say that the contemplation of\nwhat might have happened presented such a scene of desolation, such a\nvoid, that it would have required all the strength I possess to turn to\nGod in resignation and submission to His will. I have often, very often,\nthought of that illness at Geneva, but this brought it home to me,\nperhaps closer still; and I hope I shall never cease to be mindful of,\nand thankful for, this special providence. Father seems pretty confident\nthat all mischief is prevented; and Jem wrote six hours after he took\nthe laudanum, and had then felt no drowsiness to speak of, and Dr.\nWatson said there was no fear of anything happening after two hours had\nelapsed.\n\n'I should like to join with you in showing our gratitude by some deed\nof charity, or whatever you think right. Something that without any show\nmight be a thank-offering to God for His signal act of mercy.\n\n'Ever your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.\n\n'5.30. I wrote this quite early this morning. I can hardly think\nyet what it all means. Now, I feel only a sense of some very heavy\naffliction removed. Poor dear Father, and all of us! what should we have\nbeen without him!'\n\n\nA letter to the brother himself was written under the same impulse,\neven more tenderly affectionate, but so deep and intimate, that it would\nalmost be treason to give it to the world. The next letter was written\nsoon after the alarm had passed, but is undated:--\n\n'My dear Fan,--Yesterday I was unluckily too seedy with headache to go\non the ice, and this morning I have been skating for half an hour, but\nthe ice is spoilt. Very jolly it is to be twisting and turning about\nonce more. I thought of writing to old Jem to come down for it, as\nI should think the frost is not severe enough to freeze any but the\nshallow water of the floods, but it was not good enough to reward him\nfor the trouble of coming so far.\n\n'The constant sense of his preservation from that great danger really\nprevents my feeling so acutely perhaps as I ought to do the distress of\nothers. I really think I ought to be less cheerful and happy than I feel\nmyself to be. I had a pleasant little talk with Dr. Pusey on Monday:\nhe was recommending me two or three books for Hebrew reading, but they\nwould be of no use to me yet; the language is difficult to advance far\ninto, and you know my shallow way of catching a thing at first rather\nquickly perhaps, but only superficially. I find my interest increasing\ngreatly in philological studies. One language helps another very much;\nand the beautiful way in which the words, ideas, and the whole structure\nindeed, of language pervades whole families, and even the different\nfamilies, (e.g., the Indo-Germanic and Semitic races,) is not only\ninteresting, but very useful. I wish I had made myself a better Greek\nand Latin scholar, but unfortunately I used to hate classics. What\ndesperate uphill work it was to read them, a regular exercise of\nself-denial every morning! Now I like it beyond any study, except\nDivinity proper, and I try to make up for lost time. There are admirable\nbooks in my possession which facilitate the acquisition of critical\nscholarship very much, and I work at these, principally applying it to\nNew Test. Greek, LXX, &c. But my real education began, I think, with my\nfirst foreign trip. It seems as if there was not time for all this,\nfor I have Hebrew, Arabic, &c., to go on with (though this is a slow\nprocess), Pearson, Hooker, Blunt on the Reformation (a mere sketch which\nI read in a day or two at odd times), Commentaries, Trench's Books on\nParables and Miracles, which are in my room at home, and would in parts\ninterest you; he is a writer of good common sense, and a well-read man.\nBut I of course want to be reading history as well, and that involves\na good deal; physical geography, geology, &c., yet one things helps\nanother very much. I don't work quite as methodically as I ought; and\nI much want some one to discuss matters with relating to what I read. I\ndon't say all this, I am sure you know, as if I wanted to make out that\nI am working at grand subjects. I know exceeding little of any one\nof them, so little history, e.g., that a school girl could expose\nmy ignorance directly, but I like to know what we are doing among\nourselves, and we all get to know each other better thereby. I felt\nso much of late with regard to Jem, that a natural reserve prevents so\noften members even of the same family from communicating freely to each\nother their opinions, business, habits of life, experiences of sympathy,\napproval, disapproval, and the like; and when one member is gone, then\nit is felt how much more closely such a habit of dealing with each other\nwould have taught us to know him.... Nothing tests one's knowledge\nso well as questions and answers upon what we have read, stating\ndifficulties, arguments which we can't understand, &c., to each other.\nLadies who have no profession to prepare for, in spite of a very large\ncorrespondence and numerous household duties, may (in addition to their\nparochial work as curates!) take up a real course of reading and go into\nit thoroughly; and this gives girls not only employment for the time,\nbut gives the mind power to seize every other subject presented to it.\nIf you are quite alone, your reading is apt to become desultory. I find\nit useful to take once or twice a week a walk with Riddell of Balliol,\nand go through a certain period of Old Testament history; it makes me\nget it up, and then between us we hammer out so many more explanations\nof difficult passages than, at all events, I should do by myself. He is,\nmoreover, about the best Greek scholar here, which is a great help to\nme. You have no idea of the light that such accurate scholarship as\nhis throws upon many disputed passages in the Bible, e.g., \"Wisdom is\njustified of her children,\" where the Greek preposition probably gives\nthe key to the whole meaning, and many such. So you see, dear old Fan,\nthat the want of some one to pour out this to, for it sounds fearfully\npedantic, I confess, has drawn upon you this grievous infliction.\n\n'My kindest love to Father and dear Joan,\n\n'Ever your loving\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nFanny Patteson answered with arguments on the other duties which\nhindered her from entering on the course of deep study which he had been\nrecommending. He replies:--\n\n\n'Feb. 25, 1853.\n\n'My dearest Fan,--I must answer your very sensible well-written letter\nat once, because on our system of mutual explanation, there are two or\nthree things I wish to notice in it. First, I never meant that anything\nshould supersede duties which I am well aware you practise with real use\nto yourself and those about you, e.g., the kindness and sympathy shown\nto friends, and generally due observance of all social relations.\nSecond, I quite believe that the practical application of what is\nalready known, teaching, going about among the poor, is of far more\nconsequence than the acquisition of knowledge, which, of course, for its\nown sake is worth nothing. Third, I think you perfectly right in keeping\nup music, singing, all the common amusements of a country life; of\ncourse I do, for indeed what I said did not apply to Joan or you, except\nso far as this, that we all know probably a great deal of which each\none is separately ignorant, and the free communication of this to one\nanother is desirable, I think.\n\n'My own temptation consists perhaps chiefly in the love of reading for\nits own sake. I do honestly think that for a considerable time past I\nhave read, I believe, nothing which I do not expect to be of real\nuse, for I have no taste naturally for novels, &c. (without, however,\nwishing to deny that there may be novels which teach a real insight into\ncharacter). Barring \"I Promessi Sposi\" which I take up very seldom when\ntired, I have not read one for ages: I must except \"Old Mortality,\"\nread last Vacation at Feniton; but I can't deny that I like the study\nof languages for its own sake, though I apply my little experience in\nit wholly to the interpretation of the Bible. I like improving my\nscholarship, it is true, but I can say honestly that it is used to read\nthe Greek Testament with greater accuracy: so of the Hebrew, Syriac,\nArabic. I feel, I confess, sometimes that it is nice, &c., to know\nseveral languages, but I try to drive away any such thoughts, and it is\nquite astonishing how, after a few weeks, a study which would suggest\nideas of an unusual course of reading becomes so familiar that I never\nthink of myself when pursuing it, e.g., I don't think that after\ntwo hours' grind at Arabic the stupid wrong feeling of its being an\nout-of-the-way study comes upon me now, it is getting quite natural. It\ncomes out though when I talk or write perhaps with another, but I must\ntry and get over it.\n\n'I believe it to be a good thing to break off any work once or twice a\nday in the middle of any reading, for meditating a little while and for\nprayer. This is more easily done at College than elsewhere; and is, I\nhope, a preventive against such thoughts. Then, as I jog on I see how\nvery little I know, what an immense deal I have to learn to become\nordinarily well acquainted with these things. I am in that state of\nmind, perhaps, when Ecclesiastes (which I am now reading) puts my own\ncase exactly before me. I think, What's the good of it all? And the\nanswer comes, it may be very good properly used, or very mischievous\nif abused. I do indeed look forward to active parochial work: I think I\nshall be very happy so employed, and I often try to anticipate the time\nin thought, and feel with perfect sincerity that nothing is so useful\nor so full of comfort as the consciousness of trying to fulfil the daily\nduties of my situation. Here of course I need do nothing; I mean there\nis nothing to prevent my sitting all day in an arm-chair and reading\n\"Pickwick.\".... One word about the way languages help me, that you may\nnot think what I am doing harder than it really is. These three bear the\nsame kind of relation to each other (or rather say these five, Arabic,\nSyriac, Hebrew, Chaldee, Ethiopia; but of the last I know nothing\nwhatever, and of Chaldee only so much as that it is a dialect of Hebrew\nin the same character, and consequently anyone who knows Hebrew knows\nsomething about it), as German to English, e.g., Bahlom (Arab.), Beel\n(Syr.), Baal (Heb.), are the same word, as you can see, only written\nin different characters, and all mean \"a lord,\" so Baal, Beelzebub, or\nBaalzebeb. Baal Peor, which means, literally, \"the Lord of the ravine,\"\nviz., the idol worshipped at the Pass in the wilderness. Consequently,\nin reading any one of these languages, the same word keeps on occurring\nin all; and the chief use is of course that often a word which occurs\nonly once or twice in Hebrew perhaps is in common use in the others, and\nso its meaning is fixed. Add to all this, that the Syriac version of the\nNew Testament was made (as all agree) early in the second century, if\nnot at the end of the first, and thus is the very best exponent of the\nNew Testament where the Greek is doubtful; and the additional fact, that\nthough a mixture of Chaldee and Syriac was the language of Palestine in\nour Lord's time, yet He certainly sometimes spoke what is now our Syriac\n(e.g., Talitha cumi, &c.), and the importance of it is apparent. Surely\nto read the language that our Blessed Lord himself used is no small\nprofit as well as delight.\n\n'So I think we may each go on in our several pursuits, each helping\neach, and each trying to do so without a foolish affectation of\nlearning.\n\n'My best love to dear Father and Joan,\n\n'Ever your affectionate Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nFenelon has said that in a certain stage of piety there is much of self,\nand Coley was evidently in that stage. His own figure was the primary\nobject before his eyes, neither indulged, nor admired, but criticised,\nrepressed, and by his very best efforts thrust aside, whenever he was\nconscious that his self-contemplation was self-complacency. Still it\nwas in his nature to behold it, and discuss it, and thus to conquer\nand outgrow the study in time, while leaving many observations upon\nself-culture and self-training, that will no doubt become deeply valued\nas the result of the practical experience of one who so truly mastered\nthat obtrusive self.\n\nPatteson was one of the most decided workers for the admission of\nimprovements and reduction of abuses within his own college, with\nwhich each Oxford foundation was endeavouring to forestall compulsory\nreformation by a University Commission. Mr. Roundell says:--\n\n'His early years as Fellow of Merton coincided with the period of active\nreform at Oxford which followed upon the Report of the Commission in\n1852. What part did the future Missionary Bishop take in that great\nmovement? One who worked with him at that time--a time when University\nreform was as unfashionable as it is now fashionable--well remembers. He\nthrew himself into the work with hearty zeal; he supported every liberal\nproposal. To his loyal fidelity and solid common sense is largely due\nthe success with which the reform of Merton was carried out. And yet in\nthose first days of college reform the only sure and constant nucleus\nof the floating-Liberal majority consisted of Patteson and one other.\nWhatever others did, those two were always on the same side. And so,\nsomehow, owing no doubt to the general enlightenment which distinguished\nthe senior Fellows of Merton under the old regime--an enlightenment\nunquestionably due to the predominance in that College of the lay\nnon-resident element--the new reforming spirit found itself in the\nascendency. It is to the honour of Patteson, and equally to the honour\nof the older Fellows of the College at that time, that so great an\ninroad upon old traditions should have been made with such an entire\nabsence of provocation on the one side, or of irritation on the\nother. But Patteson, with all his reforming zeal, was also a high-bred\ngentleman. He remembered what was due to others as well as to himself.\nHis bearing was one of respect for authority, of deference towards those\nwho were his superiors in age. He knew how to differ. He showed towards\nothers the considerate courtesy which others in return so abundantly\nshowed towards him. And this generous forbearance of the seniors had its\nreward. It entailed upon the juniors a reciprocity of respect. It was\nfelt by them at the time to be an additional incentive to moderation, to\nsobriety, to desistance from extreme views. The result was that the work\ngot done, and what was done left no heartburnings behind.\n\n'Yet it would be delusive to pretend to claim Bishop Patteson as a\nLiberal in the political sense of the word. He was no such thing. If\nanything, his instincts, especially in Church matters, drew him the\nother way. But those who knew the man, like those who have seen the\nAmmergau Play, would as soon think of fastening upon that a sectarian\ncharacter, as of fixing him with party names. His was a catholic mind.\nWhat distinguished him was his open-mindedness, his essential goodness,\nhis singleness and simplicity of aim. He was a just man, and singularly\nfree from perturbations of self, of temper, or of nerves. You did not\ncare to ask what he would call himself. You felt what he was, that\nyou were in the presence of a man too pure for party, of one in whose\npresence ordinary party distinctions almost ceased to have a meaning.\nSuch a man could scarcely be on the wrong side. Both the purity of his\nnature and the rectitude of his judgment would have kept him straight.'\n\nColey remained at Merton until the Long Vacation of 1853; when his\nOxford life terminated, though not his connection with the University,\nfor he retained his Fellowship until his death, and the friendships he\nhad formed both at Balliol and Merton remained unbroken.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. THE CURACY AT ALFINGTON. 1853-1855.\n\n\n\nPreparation for ordination had become Patteson's immediate object. As\nhas been already said, his work was marked out. There was a hamlet\nof the parish of Ottery St. Mary, at a considerable distance from the\nchurch and town, and named Alfington.\n\nSome time previously, the family of Sir John Kennaway had provided\nthe place with a school, which afterwards passed into the hands of Mr.\nJustice Coleridge, who, in 1849, there built the small church of St.\nJames, with parsonage, school, and house, on a rising ground overlooking\nthe valley of Honiton, almost immediately opposite to Feniton; and, at\nthe same time, took on himself the expenses of the curacy and school,\nfor the vicar of the parish, the Rev. Dr. Cornish, formerly master of\nOttery School.\n\nThe first curate of Alfington was Judge Coleridge's son Henry, the\nwell-known author of the beautiful Life of St. Francis Xavier. On his\nleaving our communion, it was his father's wish that Coleridge Patteson\nshould take the cure; and, until his ordination, it was committed\ntemporarily to other hands, in especial to the Rev. Henry Gardiner,\nwho was much beloved there. In the spring of 1853, he had a long and\ndangerous illness, when Coley came to nurse him, and became so much\nattached to him, that his influence and unconscious training became\nof great importance. The church was served by such clerical friends as\ncould give their assistance on Sunday, and the pastoral care, attention\nto the school, cottage visiting, &c., became the employment of the\ncandidate for Holy Orders, who thus began his work under the direction\nof his disabled friend.\n\nA letter to his sister shows how he plunged into the drudgery of the\nparish, doing that which always cost him most, namely, administering\nrebukes; so that it was no wonder that he wrote with a sort of elation\nat having lashed himself up to the point of giving a thorough warning:--\n\n\n'Feniton: July 19, 1853.\n\n'My dearest Fan,--I am going to Thorverton to-day to stay till Thursday.\nGardiner came downstairs on Sunday, and again yesterday, and is making\nvery rapid strides towards perfect recovery. He even went out yesterday\nfor a few minutes. So I don't mind leaving him in the least; and indeed\nhe is going to Sidmouth himself, probably at the end of the week. I have\nseen him every day without one exception, and have learnt a very great\ndeal from him. He has studied very closely school work, condition of the\nlabourer, boys' homes, best method of dispensing charity, &c., and on\nall these points his advice has been really invaluable. I feel now that\nI am quite to all intents working the district. People ask me about\ntheir children coming to school. I know almost all the people in the\nvillage, and a good many out of it, and begin to understand, in a very\nsmall way, what a clergyman's life is. A mixture of sorrow and pleasure\nindeed! There are many very sad cases of hypocrisy, filthiness, and\nwickedness (as I suppose there are in every district); and yesterday I\nhad a very hard-working and in one case most painful day.\n\n'Some people had asked me to take their boy, three years and a half old,\nto school--a wretched pair, with a little savage for a son. I said I\nwould speak to Miss Wilkins, and put plainly before her the character of\nparents and child. However, she wished to have him, and I knew it was so\nfar well to get the boy away from home. But such a scene ensued! The\nboy was really like a little savage; kicked, dashed his head against the\nwall, and at length, with his nose bleeding violently, exhausted with\nhis violence, fell asleep. Next day, he is so bad, he is sent home; when\nthe mother drives him back to school, cursing and swearing, telling Miss\nWilkins she may kill him if she pleases! Unluckily, I was not in school.\n\n'Yesterday he was in school and more quiet, but did not kneel down at\nprayers, and seemed like a little beast beginning to be tamed. So, after\nschool, I called him to me, and putting him before my knees asked him\nsome questions very kindly: \"Did he know who God was? Had he never been\ntaught to kneel down and say his prayers? Of course he had not, but it\ngave me the proper opportunity of speaking to his parents. So having\nnow considered the matter for two or three days previously, having\nascertained all the facts about the people, after an hour among some\nothers in the village, I went right into their cottage, and luckily\nfound father and mother and grandmother at home, besides one or two more\n(who are lodgers) in a room adjoining, with the door open. 'I am come\nto talk to you about William,' I began, whereupon I saw the woman\nturn quite red. However, I spoke for about ten minutes slowly and very\nquietly, without any appearance (as I believe) of anger or passion at\nall, but yet speaking my mind quite plainly. \"I had no idea any child\ncould be so neglected. Did they suppose the school was a place where\nany parent might send a child merely to get it out of the way (of course\nthey do, you know, most of them)? Was it possible that a child could be\nmade good as if by magic there, when it learns nothing but wicked words\nat home? Do you think you can or ought to get rid of the duties you owe\nyour child? Do you suppose that God will not require from you an account\nof the way you have behaved towards him, you who have never taught him\nto know who God is, what God is, what is prayer, what is the church,\nwho have taught that little mouth, which God created for praise and\nblessings, to curse and blaspheme? I know that many children do and say\nwicked things, but it is in most cases owing to the neglect of their\nparents, who do not speak kindly to their children, and do what they can\nto keep them out of temptation, but this is a different case. Your boy\nis not fit to come into the company of little Christians! Awful as it\nis to think of, he is already, at his early age, the very dread of the\nparents who live near you.\"\n\n'They had not a word to say, not a syllable beyond the objection which I\nhad already met, that other children were bad too. I did not say what I\nmight have said with truth, because it is only from Gardiner's report,\nnot from my own knowledge--viz., that neither father nor mother ever\ncome to church, and that their house is the centre of evil to the young\npeople of the village.\n\n'\"Now,\" I said, in conclusion, \"I fully meant to send back your boy, and\ntell you I would examine him six months hence, to see if he was fit to\nbe brought into the school, but as I do trust he may behave better,\nand that this may be the means of recovering him from this sad state, I\nshall take him still, unless he behaves again very badly. But remember\nthis--this is the turning point in the boy's life, and all, humanly\nspeaking, depends on the example you set him. What an awful thing it\nwould be, if it pleased God to take him away from you now, and a fit of\nmeasles, scarlatina, or any such illness, may do it any day! Remember\nthat you are responsible to a very great extent for your child; that\nunless it sees you watchful over your thoughts, words, and actions;\nunless it sees you regular and devout in prayer at home (I don't believe\nthey ever think of such a thing--God forgive me, if I am wrong); unless\nit sees you habitually in your place in God's house, you are not doing\nyour duty to yourselves or your child, you are not laying up any hope or\ncomfort whatever for the day of your sickness and death. Now I hope you\nclearly understand me. I have spoken plainly--exactly what I think, and\nwhat I mean to act upon. You know now the sort of person you have to\ndeal with. Good morning,\"--and thereupon I marched out, amazed at my own\npluck, and heartily glad that I had said what I wished, and felt I ought\nto say.\n\n'But I need hardly tell you that this left me in a state of no slight\nexcitement, and that I should be much comforted by hearing what you and\nFather and Joan think of my behaviour.\n\n'Meanwhile, there are some very nice people; I dearly love some of the\nboys and girls; and I do pray that this plan of a boys' home may save\nsome from contamination. I, seated with Sanders last night, found him\nand his wife very hearty about it. I have only mentioned it to three\npeople, but I rather wish it to be talked about a little now, that\nthey may be curious, &c., to know exactly what I mean to do. The two\ncottages, with plenty of room for the Fley's family and eight boys, with\nhalf an acre of garden at \u00a311. 5s. the year. I shall of course begin\nwith only one or two boys--the thing may not answer at all; but\neveryone, Gardiner, several farmers, and two or three others, quite\npoor, in different places, all say it must work well, with God's\nblessing. I do not really wish to be scheming away, working a favourite\nhobby, &c., but I do believe this to be absolutely essential. The\nprofligacy and impurity of the poor is beyond all belief. Every mother\nof a family answers (I mean every honest respectable mother of a\nfamily): \"Oh sir, God will bless such a work, and it is for want of this\nthat so much misery and wretchedness abound.\" I believe that for a year\nor so it will exhaust most of my money, but then it is one of the best\nuses to which I can apply it; for my theory is, that help and assistance\nis wanted in this way, and I would wish to make most of these things\nself-supporting. Half an acre more of garden, thoroughly well worked,\nwill yield an astonishing return, and I look to Mary as a person of\nreally economical habits. It is a great relief to have poured all this\nout. It is no easy task that I am preparing for myself. I know that I\nfully expect to be very much disappointed, but I am determined to try\nit. I am determined to try and make the people see that I am not going\nto give way to everybody that asks; but that I am going to set on foot\nand help on all useful industrial schemes of every kind, for people\nof every age. I am hard at work, studying spade husbandry, inspectors'\nreports of industrial schools, &c. I am glad you are all so happy. I am\nso busy. Best love to all.\n\n'Your loving\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nColey was thus already serving a vigorous apprenticeship in pastoral\nwork, while preparing himself for receiving deacon's orders. It was a\ntrying time both to his family and himself, for, as before said, his\nstandard was very high, and his own strong habit of self-contemplation\nmade his dissatisfaction with himself manifest in his manner to those\nnearest to him. He was always gentle and unselfish; not showing temper,\nbut unhappiness.\n\nHere are letters showing a good deal of his state of mind: the first\nonly dated 'Saturday evening,' but evidently written about this time,\nin reply to the cautions with which his sister had replied to the above\nletter of eager plans of improvement.\n\n\n'My dearest Fan,--Your letter has just reached me from Honiton, and I\nhave read it with very great interest. I liked it better on a second\nperusal of it, which showed in itself that I wanted it, for it is quite\ntrue that I require to be reminded of the only true principle upon which\none ought to work; and I allow quite willingly that I trace interested\nmotives--e.g., love of self-approval or applause in actions where such\nfeelings ought least of all to enter. I certainly did feel pleased with\nmyself for speaking plainly to those people, and I often find myself\nindulging the notion that I am going to be a very hard-working\nclergyman, with a remedy for all the evils of the age, &c. If I was to\nhunt about for an excuse, I might perhaps find one, by saying that I am\nin that state of mind which attends always, I suppose, the anticipation\nof any great crisis in a person's life; sometimes hard work and hard\nthought, sometimes (though alas! very seldom) a real sense of the very\nawful responsibility of ministering in the Church, sometimes a\nless natural urging of the mind to contemplate and realise this\nresponsibility. I was for some time reading Wilberforce's new book,\nand this involved an examination of the question in other writers; but\nlately I have laid all controversial works aside almost entirely, and\nhave been reading Pearson, Bull, and the Apostolical Fathers, Clement\nand Ignatius. I shall probably read Justin Martyr's Apologies, and some\ntreatises of Tertullian before next month is over. I have read some part\nalready. There is such a very strong practical element in these very\nearly writings that they ought to soothe and calm the mind; but I cannot\nhonestly conceal the fact that the theological interest for the most\npart outweighs the practical teaching.\n\n'My light reading is of a new and very amusing and interesting\ncharacter--viz., books on school economy, management of school farms,\nallotments, the modern dairy, spade husbandry, agricultural chemistry.\nK, W, F, C, and G, and I have great talks; and as they all agree with\nme, I think them capital judges.\n\n'I don't think at all that my present state of mind is quite natural.\nYou quite repeat my own words when you say it is transitory. A calm\nundisturbed spirit of prayer and peace and contentment is a great gift\nof God, and to be waited for with patience. The motto of \"The Christian\nYear\" is very beautiful. I sent the roses on Tuesday. My best love to\ndear Father and Joan.\n\n'Ever your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThese words 'love of self-approval' perfectly analysed that snare\nof Coley's early life, against which he so endeavoured to guard--not\nself-conceit, but love of self-approval.\n\nSo the Easter week drew on, and during it he writes to his cousin:--\n\n\n'Friday, Wallis Lodgings, Exeter: September, 1853.\n\n'My dear Sophy,--We have had a good examination, I think; perhaps rather\nharder than I expected. Woolecombe and Chancellor Harrington spoke to\nme this morning, thanking me for my papers, and telling me to read the\nGospel at the Ordination.\n\n'I did feel very nervous last Sunday and Monday, and the Ember Prayer\nin the morning (when I was at Ottery) fairly upset me, but I don't think\nanybody saw it; now, I am thankful to say, I am very well, and\nfeel thoroughly happy. I shall be nervous, no doubt, on Sunday, and\nespecially at reading the Gospel, but not I think so nervous as to break\ndown or do anything foolish; so when you know I am reading--for you\nwon't hear me, if you are in the stalls, don't distress yourself about\nme.\n\n'I can't tell what it was that upset me so on Sunday and\nMonday--thinking of dear Mamma and how she had wished for this, the\noverwhelming kindness of everybody about me, dear Father's simple words\nof very affectionate comfort and advice.\n\n'But I walked into Exeter, and on the way got quite calm, and so I have\nbeen ever since. It is not strange that the realising the near approach\nof what I have for years wished for, and looked forward to, should\nat times come upon me with such force that I seem scarcely master of\nmyself; but it is only excitement of feeling, and ought, I know, to\nbe repressed, not for a moment to be entertained as a test of one's\nreligious state, being by no means a desirable thing. I am very glad the\nexamination is over. I did not worry myself about it, but it was rather\nhard work, and now I have my time to myself for quiet thought and\nmeditation.\n\n'Ever, dear Sophy, your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe next evening he writes:--\n\n\n'Saturday, 5.45 P.M.\n\n'My dearest Father,--I must write my last letter as a layman to you. I\ncan't tell you the hundredth part of the thoughts that have been passing\nthrough my mind this week. There has been no return of the excitement\nthat I experienced last Sunday and Monday, and I have been very happy\nand well.\n\n'To-day my eyes are not comfortable, from I know not what cause, but as\nall the work for them is over, it does not matter so much. I am glad to\nhave had a quiet time for reflection. Indeed, I do not enough realise my\ngreat unworthiness and sinfulness, and the awful nature of the work I am\nundertaking. I pray God very earnestly for the great grace of humility,\nwhich I so sadly need: and for a spirit of earnest prayer, that I may be\npreserved from putting trust in myself, and may know and forget myself\nin my office and work. I never could be fit for such work, I know that,\nand yet I am very thankful that the time for it has come. I do not feel\nexcited, yet I am somewhat nervous because it requires an effort to\nmeditate steadily. I have thought so much of my early life, of dearest\nMamma. What a snare it seems, so full of transitory earthly plans and\npursuits; such a want of earnestness of purpose and steady performance\nof duty! God grant my life as a clergyman may be more innocent to\nmyself, and more useful to others! Tell dear Joan the gown came this\nmorning. My kind love to her, Fan, and Jem.\n\n'Ever, my dearest Father,\n\n'Your affectionate and dutiful Son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nOn the ensuing day, Sunday, September 14, 1853, John Coleridge Patteson\nreceived the Diaconate at the hands of the venerable Bishop Phillpotts,\nin Exeter Cathedral. His being selected to read the Gospel was the proof\nof his superiority in the examination--no wonder, considering the two\nadditional years that he had spent in preparation, and the deep study\nand searchings of heart of the last few months.\n\nHe was established in a small house at Alfington--the usual habitation\nof the Curate. And of his first sermon there, his uncle, Sir John\nColeridge, gives the following touching description from his diary:--\n\n'October 23, 1853.--Yesterday morning Arthur and I went to Alfington\nChurch, to be present at Coley's first sermon. I don't know when I have\nbeen so much delighted and affected. His manner of saying the prayers\nwas exceedingly good: his voice very sweet and musical; without seeming\nloud, it was fully audible, and gave assurance of more power if needed:\nhis manner quite unaffected, but sweet and devout. His sermon was a very\nsound and good one, beautifully delivered; perhaps in the early parts,\nfrom the very sweetness of his voice, and the very rapid delivery of\nhis words, a little more variety of intonation would have helped in\nconveying his meaning more distinctly to those who formed the bulk\nof his congregation. But when he came to personal parts this was not\nneeded. He made a kind allusion to me, very affecting to me; and when\nI was in this mood, and he came to the personal parts, touching himself\nand his new congregation, what he knew he ought to be to them and to\ndo for them, what they should do for themselves, and earnestly besought\ntheir prayers, I was completely overcome, and weeping profusely.\n\nFanny Patteson and Arthur Coleridge were sitting with the Judge, and\nwere equally overcome. When the service was over, and the congregation\ndispersed, Coley joined these three in the porch, holding out his hands,\ntaking theirs and shedding tears, and they with him--tears of warm\nemotion too deep for words. He was evidently surprised at the effect\nproduced. In fact, on looking at the sermon, it does not seem to have\nbeen in itself remarkable, but as his cousin Arthur says: 'I suppose\nthe deep spirituality of the man, and the love we bore him for years,\ntouched the emotional part of us.' The text was significant: 'We preach\nnot ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants\nfor Jesus' sake' (2 Cor. iv. 5).\n\nThe services that the newly-ordained Deacon undertook were the ordinary\nSunday ones, and Wednesday and Friday Matins and Litany, Saints'-day\nprayers and lecture, and an Advent and Lent Evensong and lecture on\nWednesdays and Fridays. These last had that great popularity which\nattends late services. Dr. Cornish used to come on one Sunday in the\nmonth to celebrate the Holy Communion (which is given weekly in the\nmother Church); and when Mr. Grardiner was able to be at Sidmouth,\nrecovering from his illness, he used to come over on the second Sunday\nin the month for the same purpose; and the next Lent, the Matins were\ndaily, and followed by a lecture.\n\nAt this time Patteson's constitutional shrinking from general society\nwas in full force, and he also had that dislike to 'speaking to' people\nin the way of censure, which so often goes with tender and refined\nnatures, however strong; so that if his housekeeper needed a reproof, he\nwould make his sister administer it, and creep out of reach himself; but\nthis was one of the deficiencies with which he was struggling all his\nlife, and fortunately it is a fact that the most effective lectures\nusually come from those to whom they cost the most.\n\nThis was the hardest part of his ministry. Where kindness and attention\nwere needed, nothing could be more spontaneous, sweet, or winning than\nhis ways. One of his parishioners, a farmer's daughter, writes:--\n\n'Our personal knowledge of him began some months before his Ordination,\nowing, I suppose, to Mr. Gardiner's severe illness; and as he was\nvery much respected, Mr. Patteson's attentions won from the first our\nadmiration and gratitude, which went on and on until it deepened\ninto that love which I do not think could have been surpassed by the\nGalatians for their beloved St. Paul, which he records in his Epistle to\nthem (chap. iv. 15). All were waiting for him at his Ordination, and a\nhappy delusion seemed to have come over the minds of most, if not all,\nthat he was as completely ours as if he had been ordained expressly for\nus.'\n\nIt was not his own feeling, for he knew that when his apprenticeship\nshould be past, the place was too small, and the work too easy, for a\nman in full force and vigour, though for the sake of his father he was\nglad to accept it for the present, to train himself in the work, and\nto have full time for study; but he at that time looked to remaining in\nEngland during his father's lifetime, and perhaps transferring himself\nto Manchester, Liverpool, London, or some large city, where there was\nneed of mission work among the neglected.\n\nHis father was on the City of London Charter Commission, and was in\nLondon from November to February, the daughters joining him there, but\nthere was no lack of friends around Alfington. Indeed it was in the\nmidst of an absolute clan of Coleridges, and in Buckerell parish, at\nDeerpark, that great old soldier, Lord Seaton, was spending the few\nyears that passed between his Commissioner-ship in the Ionian Isles and\nhis Commandership in Ireland.\n\nHe was connected with the Coleridges through the Yonge family, and the\nyoung people were all on familiar cousinly terms. Coley was much liked\nby him; and often joined in the rides through the lanes and to the hills\nwith him and his daughters, when there were many conversations of much\ninterest, as there could not fail to be with a man who had never held a\ngovernment without doing his utmost to promote God's work in the Church\nand for education; who had, moreover, strong opinions derived from\nexperience of the Red Indians in Upper Canada--namely, that to reclaim\nthe young, and educate them was the only hope of making Christianity\ntake root in any fresh nation.\n\nIt was at Deerpark, at a dinner in the late autumn of this year 1853,\nthat I saw Coley Patteson for the second and last time. I had seen him\nbefore in a visit of three days that I made at Feniton with my parents\nin the September of 1844, when he was an Eton boy, full of high spirits\nand merriment. I remember then, on the Sunday, that he and I accompanied\nour two fathers on a walk to the afternoon service at Ottery, and that\non the way he began to show something of his inner self, and talked\nof his mother and her pleasure in Feniton; but it began to rain, and I\nstayed for the night at Heaths Court, so that our acquaintance ceased\nfor that time. It was not a formal party at Deerpark, and the evening\nwas chiefly spent in playing at games, thread paper verses and the like,\nin which Coley took his part with spirit. If I had guessed what he was\nto be, I should have observed him more; but though, in after years, our\nintercourse in letters makes us feel intimate with one another, these\ntwo brief meetings comprise the whole of my personal acquaintance with\none in whom I then only saw a young clergyman with his heart in his\nwork.\n\nPerhaps this is the best place to mention his personal appearance, as\nthe portrait at the beginning of this volume was taken not more than a\nyear later.\n\nHe was tall and of a large powerful frame, broad in the chest and\nshoulders, and with small neat hands and feet, with more of sheer\nmuscular strength and power of endurance than of healthiness, so that\nthough seldom breaking down and capable of undergoing a great deal\nof fatigue and exertion, he was often slightly ailing, and was very\nsensitive to cold. His complexion was very dark, and there was a\nstrongly marked line between the cheeks and mouth, the corners of which\ndrooped when at rest, so that it was a countenance peculiarly difficult\nto photograph successfully. The most striking feature was his eyes,\nwhich were of a very dark clear blue, full of an unusually deep\nearnest, and so to speak, inward, yet far away expression. His smile was\nremarkably bright, sweet and affectionate, like a gleam of sunshine, and\nwas one element of his great attractiveness. So was his voice, which had\nthe rich full sweetness inherited from his mother's family, and which\nalways excited a winning influence over the hearers. Thus, though not a\nhandsome man, he was more than commonly engaging, exciting the warmest\naffection in all who were concerned with him, and giving in return an\nimmense amount of interest and sympathy, which only became intensified\nto old friends while it expanded towards new ones. Here is a letter to\nhis father, undated, but written not long after his settling down at\nAlfington. After expressing his regret that his voice had been inaudible\nto his sister Joanna at a Friday evening service, he proceeds:--\n\n\n'I did not speak very loud, because I don't think I could do so and\nat the same time keep my mind at work and thoughts collected. Anything\nwhich is so unnatural and unusual as to make me conscious of myself in a\npeculiar manner would prevent, I fear, my getting on with my oration at\nall.\n\n'I am glad you think I could not have acted otherwise with E---. I\nquite expect ere long to find something going on which may call for\nmy interference, and I specially guarded myself on this point. It is\ndistinctly understood that I shall speak to him quite plainly whenever\nand wherever I think it necessary to do so. I do not suppose it very\nlikely that he can go on long without my being forced to take some step;\nbut I really feel so very unequal to expressing a decided opinion upon\nthe great question of Bible readers, that I am certainly glad I have not\ntaken up a hostile position hastily. As a matter of fact, he reads\nin very few cottages in my district; tracts he distributes almost\neverywhere.\n\n'Now I see of course the distinction between a man making it his\nbusiness to read the Bible and neighbours dropping in occasionally\nto read a chapter to one who is unable to read, but where you are\ndistinctly told that the wish is most decidedly to support the\nclergyman, and answers not unsatisfactory are given upon main points,\nwhat difference remains between the two cases I have put that can\nfurnish matter for fair argument, with a man from education, &c.,\ndisposed to take a different view of the whole question? Add to this,\nthat I cannot appeal to the universal practice of the clergy. \"Why,\"\nmight it be said, \"do you, as a clergyman find a difficulty where Mr.\nH. finds none? You are, after all, acting on your own private opinion,\nthough you lay claim to authority for it.\" I cannot successfully appeal\nto the distinctive teaching of our Church, clear and manifest as it is,\nfor the very words I think conclusive contain no such evidence for him,\nand so on ad infinitum. Besides, to speak quite what I feel at present,\nthough only so perhaps because my view is necessarily unformed, the\nnatural order of things in such a district as this seems to be: gain\nthe affections of the people by gentleness and showing real interest\nin their welfare, spiritual and temporal; show them in the Bible such\nteaching as the Church considers necessary (but not as yet upon the\nauthority of the Church, or at least not so expressed to them); lead\nthem gradually to the acknowledgment of such truths as these: that\nChrist did found a society called the Church, and appoint to certain\npersons whom he sent the Ministry of reconciliation; that if we have no\nguide but mere opinion, there will be thousands of conflicting opinions\nin the world even among good men, whereas Truth can be but one, and that\npractically this is found to be so; that it is no argument to say, that\nthe Spirit so operated as to enlighten the reason of each individual to\nthis extent, viz., that it may compose a Creed for him or herself; that\nthe Spirit acts now in the ordinary, though not less real and heavenly\nmanner; and that the infinite divisions among sectaries proves the fact\nto be as I state it.\n\n'Thus I imagine the want of that external and visible Church will be\nfelt as necessary to fix the Creeds pasa katadike.\n\n'But to reverse this process, to cram positive teaching down their\nthroats upon the authority of the Church before they know what the\nChurch is, or feel the need of any power outside (so to speak) their\nown minds to guide them, does seem to me in a place like this (humanly\nspeaking) suicidal. I cannot, of course, tell how much preparatory\nteaching they have received, but I must judge from what I see and hear,\nand deal accordingly in each cottage. Some few there are to whom I can\nspeak, as to Church people in the real sense of the word, but these are\nas two or three in a hundred.\n\n'One line to say whether you think me right or wrong, would be a great\ncomfort to me. I feel no tendency to latitudinarianism, but only to see\nmuch good in systems unrecognised by your very highflyers. I believe\nthat the Church teaching is represented in an unfavourable, often\noffensive, light to many of our poor, because they hear words and see\nthings which find no response in their hearts; because they are told,\nordered almost, to believe things the propriety of believing which they\ndo not recognise; because the existence of wants is implied when they\nhave never been felt, and a system for supplying them introduced which\nfinds no room in the understanding or affections of the patient.\n\n'But you know, dear Father, what I mean, without more dusky attempts at\nexplaining myself.\n\n'Do not many High Churchmen want a little more \"experimental religion\"\nin Bishop Jebb's sense of the terms: not a religion of the feelings, but\na religion brought home to the heart, and truly felt so as to prohibit\nany systematic criticism of the feelings?\n\n'I am late this week with my sermons, I have not begun either of them,\nand may have one to-morrow evening if my voice will do its part. I write\nvery long washy concerns, and find it difficult to do otherwise, for\nit is a good pull upon me week after week, and latterly I have not been\nable to read very much. I shall look out two or three that I think fair\nspecimens, and ask you by-and-by to run your eye over them, that you may\npoint out the defects.\n\n'My ignorance of the Bible astonishes me, though not so much as it ought\nto do. I purpose, D.V., to commence a thorough study of the original\ntexts. I must try to become something of a scholar, at all events, to\nmake any progress in the work. I sometimes hope that, in spite of my\nmany backslidings and broken resolutions, some move is taking place\nwithin, where most it is wanted; but I live here so quietly, that I have\nlittle (comparatively) food for some special faults. Good-bye, my dear\nFather,\n\n'Your affectionate and dutiful Son,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\n'Some move taking place within!' It is impossible not to pause\nand observe how as Confirmation and Communion had almost palpably\nstrengthened the boy's struggles with his inherent faults, so the grace\nconferred with the Deacon's orders is now felt to be lifting him higher,\nand enabling him to see further than he has yet seen.\n\nSermons were, however, never Patteson's forte. Though his pen flowed so\nfreely in letters, and he could pour out his heart extemporaneously\nwith great depth, fervour and simplicity, his sermons were laboured and\nmetaphysical, as if he had taken too much pains with them as it were,\nand he could not speak to the abstract, as he could to the individual,\nor when he saw the effect of his words. It was perhaps owing to the\ndefective system which threw two sermons a week upon a young deacon at\na time when his mind was working through such an experimental course of\nstudy and thought. Yet his people, who had learnt to believe in little\nbut preaching, would not have come to prayers alone; and the extemporary\naddresses, in which he would probably have been much more successful,\nwould have seemed to him at his age and at that period--twenty years\nback--too presumptuous to be attempted, at any rate till he had better\nlearnt his ground. How his system would have succeeded, we cannot tell.\nThe nature of the peasantry of the county he had to deal with is, to\nbe quick-witted, argumentative, and ready of retort; open to religious\nimpressions, but with much of self-opinion and conceit, and not much\nreverence, and often less conscientious in matters of honesty and\nmorality than denser rustics of less apparent piety. The Church had for\na long-period been at a peculiarly low ebb in the county, and there is\nnot a neighbourhood which has not traditions of incredibly ignorant,\ncareless and underbred--if not dissipated--clergy; and though there were\ngrand exceptions, they were only respected as men; faith in the whole\nsystem, as a system, was destroyed. Bishop Phillpotts, coming down on\nsuch elements as these, was, in spite of his soundness of faith and\ngrand trenchant force of character, better as a warrior than as a\nshepherd, and the controversial and political sides of his character,\nthough invaluable to the Church, did not recommend him to the affections\nof the people of his diocese, who could not understand the points of the\ndebate, and wanted the direct evidence of spirituality which they could\nappreciate.\n\nThe cholera of 1832 had been especially terrible in the unwholesome\nprecincts of the Devonshire seaports, and the effect was a great craving\nfor religion. The Church was in no condition to avail herself of it; in\nfact, she would have viewed it with distrust as excitement. Primitive\nMethodism and Plymouth Brethrenism supplied the void, gave opportunities\nof prayer, and gratified the quickened longing for devotion; and\ntherewith arose that association of the Church with deadness and\nof Dissent with life, which infected even the most carefully tended\nvillages, and with which Patteson was doing his best to contend at\nAlfington. The stage of gaining the people's affection and confidence,\nand of quickening their religious life, he had attained; and the further\nwork of teaching them that the Church alone gives security of saving\nunion with Christ, was yet to come when his inward call led him\nelsewhere.\n\nOn the 12th of December he says:--\n\n'Yesterday was a very happy day; Gardiner came to help me and he\nadministered the Holy Communion to twenty-seven or twenty-eight of my\nown people. This is nearly double the average before I came, and two\nregular attendants are prevented by sickness from being at Church. I\ntrust I have not urged the necessity of communicating unwisely upon\nthem. I preach on it once a month, as you know, and in almost every\nsermon allude to it, and where occasion offers, speak about it to\nindividuals at home; but I try to put before them the great awfulness\nof it as well as the danger of neglecting it, and I warn them against\ncoming without feeling really satisfied from what I read to them, and\nthey read in the Bible concerning it. Six came yesterday for the first\ntime.... Old William (seventy-five years of age), who has never been a\ncommunicant, volunteered on Thursday to come, if I thought it right. He\nis, and always has been (I am told), a thoroughly respectable, sober,\nindustrious man, regular at Church once a day; and I went to his cottage\nwith a ticket in my pocket to urge him to consider the danger of going\non as if content with what he did and without striving to press onwards,\n&c. But, after a long conversation on other matters, he said; \"I should\nlike, Sir, to come to the Sacrament, if you have no objection;\" and very\nhappy and thankful I felt, for I had prayed very earnestly that this old\nman might be led thither by God's grace, and now it was done without any\nurging on my part, beyond what he heard in Church and what I had said to\nhis daughter about him.'\n\nThe next of his letters is occupied with the pecuniary affairs of his\nlodging house for farm boys, and the obtaining of ground where they\nmight grow vegetables for their own use.\n\nIn February his family returned home, and his sister Fanny thus speaks\nof him to a friend:--\n\n'He does not look well; and at first we were quite uneasy, for his eyes\nwere heavy and puffed, but he is much better, and confesses that dinners\nand evenings here do him good, though he quite denies the starving,\nand Mrs. Knowles also. She says he gets over anxious in mind, and was\ncompletely chilled the week he sat in the hall. No doubt his house is\nstill both cold and damp, and the Church the same, and therefore\nthe labour of reading and preaching is very great. We are by degrees\ninteresting him in our winter life, having heard all his performances\nand plans; and he is very glad to have us back, though much too busy to\nhave missed us when we were away. Now he has daily morning service,\nwith a lecture; and if it lasts, the impression he has made is really\nextraordinary. We may well pray that he should not be vain of his works.\nThere are men whose whole lives seem changed, if I am to believe what I\nhear.'\n\nSuch was the young Deacon's early success. With an affectionate brother\nclose at hand, and friends within easy reach, his Fellowship preserving\nhis connection with Oxford, his father's and brother's profession with\nLondon, in fact, all England could offer; and he would easily have it\nin his power to take fresh holidays on the Continent and enjoy those\ndelights of scenery, architecture, art and music, which he loved with an\nappreciation and enthusiasm that could easily have become an absorbing\npassion. Who could have a smoother, easier, pleasanter career open to\nhim than the Rev. John Coleridge Patteson at six and twenty?\n\nYet even then, the wish breathed to his mother, at fourteen, that he\nmight devote himself to the cause of the heathen, lay deep in his heart;\nalthough for the present, he was, as it were, waiting to see what God\nwould have him do, whether his duty to his father required him to remain\nat hand, or whether he might be called to minister in some great English\nmanufacturing town.\n\nEarly in 1854, it became known that the Bishop of New Zealand and Mrs.\nSelwyn were about to spend a year in England. Coley's aspirations to\nmission work were renewed. The thoughts excited by the sermons he had\nheard at Eton twelve years previously grew in force. He remembered his\nmother's promise of her blessing, and seriously considered of offering\nhimself to assist in the work in the Southern Hemisphere. He discussed\nthe matter seriously with his friend, Mr. Gardiner, who was strongly of\nopinion that the scheme ought not to be entertained during his father's\nlifetime. He acquiesced; but if his heart and mind were convinced, his\nsoul and spirit were not, and the yearnings for the forefront of the\nbattle were not quenched, though there was no slackening of zeal over\nthe present little flock, to make them suspect that he had a thought\nbeyond.\n\nOld ties of friendship already mentioned made the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn\npromise to spend a few days at Feniton; and on the 19th of August the\nNew Zealand guests arrived at Feniton. After joining in the family\nwelcome, Coley went apart, and gave way to a great burst of tears, due,\nperhaps, not so mueh to disappointed ardour, as to the fervent emotion\nexcited by the actual presence of a hero of the Church Militant, who\nhad so long been the object of deep silent enthusiasm. The next morning,\nColey walked from Alfington to breakfast at home, and afterwards went\ninto the garden with the Bishop, who led him to talk freely of his\npresent work in all its details. By-and-by the question arose, Did it\nsatisfy him?\n\nYes, the being near his father satisfied him that it was right for the\npresent, but at some future time, he hoped to do more, go perhaps to\nsome great manufacturing town, or, as he could not help going on to say,\nwhat he should like would be to go out as a missionary, only the thought\nof his father withheld him.\n\n'But,' replied the Bishop, 'if you think about doing a thing of that\nsort, it should not be put off till you are getting on in life. It\nshould be done with your full strength and vigour.'\n\nThen followed an endeavour on both sides to ascertain whether the\ninclination was a real earnest desire, or only fancy for the romance of\nmission work. The test might be whether he were willing to go wherever\nhe might be sent, or only where he was most interested. Coley replied,\nthat he was willing to work anywhere, adding that his sister Fanny could\ntestify whether his desire were a real one of long standing or the mere\noutcome of a fit of enthusiasm.\n\nTherewith they separated, and Coley, going straight to Fanny, told her\nwhat had passed: 'I could not help it,' he said:--'I told the Bishop of\nmy wish.'\n\n'You ought to put it to my father, that he may decide it,' she answered;\n'he is so great a man that he ought not to be deprived of the crown of\nthe sacrifice if he be willing to make it.'\n\nSo Coley repaired to his father, and confessed his long cherished\nwish, and how it had come forth to the Bishop. Sir John was manifestly\nstartled; but at once said: 'You have done quite right to speak to me,\nand not to wait. It is my first impulse to say No, but that would be\nvery selfish.'\n\nColey explained that he was 'driven to speak;' he declared himself not\ndissatisfied with his present position, nor he hoped, impatient. If his\nstaying at home were decided upon, he would cheerfully work on there\nwithout disappointment or imagining his wishes thwarted. He would leave\nthe decision entirely in the hands of his father and the Bishop.\n\nLuncheon brought the whole family together; and Sir John, making room\nfor his younger daughter beside him, said, 'Fan, did you know this about\nColey?'\n\nShe answered that she had some idea, but no more could pass till the\nmeal was ended; when her father went into another room, and she followed\nhim. The great grief broke out in the exclamation: 'I can't let him go;'\nbut even as the words were uttered, they were caught back, as it were,\nwith--'God forbid I should stop him.'\n\nThe subject could not be pursued, for the Bishop was public property\namong the friends and neighbours, and the rest of the day was bestowed\nupon them. He preached on the Sunday at Alfington, where the people\nthronged to hear him, little thinking of the consequences of his visit.\n\nNot till afterwards were the Bishop and the father alone together, when\nSir John brought the subject forward. The Bishop has since said that\nwhat struck him most was the calm balancing of arguments, like a true\nChristian Judge. Sir John spoke of the great comfort he had in this son,\ncut off as he was by his infirmity from so much of society, and enjoying\nthe young man's coming in to talk about his work. He dwelt on all with\nentire absence of excitement, and added: 'But there, what right have I\nto stand in his way? How do I know that I may live another year?'\n\nAnd as the conversation ended, 'Mind!' he said; 'I give him wholly, not\nwith any thought of seeing him again. I will not have him thinking he\nmust come home again to see me.'\n\nThat resolution was the cause of much peace of mind to both father and\nson. After family prayers that Sunday night, when all the rest had gone\nupstairs, the Bishop detained the young man, and told him the result of\nthe conversation, then added: 'Now, my dear Coley, having ascertained\nyour own state of mind and having spoken at length to your father and\nyour family, I can no longer hesitate, as far as you recognise any power\nto call on my part, to invite you most distinctly to the work.'\n\nThe reply was full acceptance.\n\nThen taking his hand, the Bishop said, 'God bless you, my dear Coley! It\nis a great comfort to me to have you for a friend and companion.'\n\nSuch was the outward and such the inward vocation to the Deacon now\nwithin a month of the Priesthood. Was it not an evident call from Him by\nwhom the whole Church is governed and sanctified? And surely the noble\nold man, who forced himself not to withhold 'his son, his firstborn\nson,' received his crown from Him who said: 'With blessing I will bless\nthee.'\n\nAnd he wrote to his brother:--\n\n\n'August 21.\n\n'My dear old Jem,--I have news for you of an unexpected and startling\nkind; about myself: and I am afraid that it will cause you some pain to\nhear what I am to tell you. You must know that for years I have felt\na strong leaning toward missionary work, and though my proceedings at\nAlfington and even the fact of going thither might seem to militate\nagainst such a notion, yet the feeling has been continually present to\nme, and constantly exercising an increasing influence over me. I trust\nI have not taken an enthusiastic or romantic view of things; my own firm\nhope and trust is that I have decided upon calm deliberate conviction,\nand it is some proof of this, that Fanny and Joan have already guessed\nmy state of mind, and months ago anticipated what has now taken\nplace.... And so, dear Jem, you must help them all to bear what will of\ncourse be a great trial. This is my trial also; for it is hard to bear\nthe thought that I may be giving unnecessary pain and causing distress\nwithout really having considered sufficiently the whole matter. But then\nI think God does not call now by an open vision; this thought has been\nfor years working in my mind: it was His providence that brought me into\ncontact with the Bishop in times past, and has led me to speak now. I\ncannot doubt this. I feel sure that if I was alone in the world I should\ngo; the only question that remains is, \"am I bound to stay for my dear\nFather's sake, or for the sake of you all?\" and this has been answered\nfor me by Father and the Bishop. And now, my dear Jem, think well over\nmy character, sift it thoroughly, and try to see what there is which may\nhave induced me to act wrongly in a matter of so much consequence. This\nis the kindest thing you can do; for we ought to take every precaution\nnot to make a mistake before it is too late. Speak out quite plainly; do\ntell me distinctly as far as you can see them my prevailing faults,\nwhat they were in boyhood at Eton, and at College. It may help me to\ncontemplate more clearly and truly the prospect before me. We shall have\nmany opportunities, I trust, of discussing all this by-and-by. I shall\ntell Uncle John, because some arrangements must be made about Alfington\nas soon as may be. My tutor knows something about it already; it will\nsoon be known to more. But do not suppose that I imagine myself better\nqualified for this work than hundreds of others more earnest, and\ninfinitely more unselfish, and practically good; but I have received an\ninvitation to a peculiar work, which is not offered to many others. We\nmust all look onwards: we must try to think of this world as but a short\nmoment in our existence; our real life and home is beyond the grave. On\nSeptember 24th I hope to be ordained Priest; think of me and pray\nfor me, my dear old fellow, that God will give me more of your own\nunselfishness and care and interest for others, and teach me to act not\naccording to my own will and pleasure, but solely with a view to His\nhonour and glory. God bless you, my dear old Jem, my dear, dear brother.\n\n'Your most loving brother,\n\n'J. C. P.\n\n\nFrom that moment the matter was treated as fixed; and only three days\nlater, the intention was announced to the relations at Thorverton.\n\nThis is the letter to the little fatherless cousin, Paulina Martyn,\nwho had always been devoted to Coley, and whom he loved with a triple\nportion of the affection children always gained from him. She was\nonly eight years old, but had the precocity of solitary children much\nattended to by their elders:--\n\n\n'Feniton: August 24, 1854.\n\n'My darling Pena,--I am going to tell you a secret, and I am afraid it\nis one which will make you feel very sorry for a little while. Do you\nremember my talking to you one day after breakfast rather gravely, and\ntelling you afterwards it was my first sermon to you? Well, my darling,\nI was trying to hint to you that you must not expect to go on very long\nin this world without troubles and trials, and that the use of them is\nto make us think more about God and about Heaven, and to remember that\nour real and unchangeable happiness is not to be found in this world,\nbut in the next. It was rather strange for me to say all this to a\nbright happy good child like you, and I told you that you ought to be\nbright and happy, and to thank God for making you so. It is never right\nfor us to try to make ourselves sad and grieve. Good people and good\nchildren are cheerful and happy, although they may have plenty of trials\nand troubles. You see how quietly and patiently Mamma and Grandpapa\nand Grandmamma take all their trouble about dear Aunty; that is a good\nlesson for us all. And now, my darling, I will tell you my secret. I am\ngoing to sail at Christmas, if I live so long, a great way from England,\nright to the other end of the world, with the good Bishop of New\nZealand. I dare say you know where to find it on the globe. Clergymen\nare wanted out there to make known the Word of God to the poor ignorant\npeople, and for many reasons it is thought right that I should go. So\nafter Christmas you will not see me again for a very long time, perhaps\nnever in this world; but I shall write to you very often, and send you\nferns and seeds, and tell you about the Norfolk Island pines, and you\nmust write to me, and tell me all about yourself, and always think of\nme, and pray for me, as one who loves you dearly with all his heart,\nand will never cease to pray God that the purity and innocence of\nyour childhood may accompany you all through your life and make you a\nblessing (as you are now, my darling) to your dear mother and all who\nknow you.\n\n'Ever your most affectionate,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nTo the child's mother the words are:--\n\n'I pray God that I may have chosen aright, and that if I have acted from\nsudden impulse too much, from love of display, or from desire to raise\nsome interest about myself, or from any other selfish and unholy motive,\nit may be mercifully forgiven.\n\n'Now, at all events, I must pray that with a single honest desire for\nGod's glory, I may look straight onwards towards the mark. I must forget\nwhat is behind, I must not lose time in analysing my state of mind to\nsee how, during years past, this wish has worked itself out. I trust the\nwish is from God, and now I must forget myself, and think only of the\nwork whereunto I am called. But it is hard to flesh and blood to think\nof the pain I am causing my dear dear Father, and the pain I am causing\nto others outside my own circle here. But they are all satisfied that\nI am doing what is right, and it would surprise you, although you know\nthem so well, to hear the calmness with which we talk about outfits.'\n\nA heavy grief was even now on the family. The beloved, 'Uncle Frank,' so\noften affectionately mentioned, had been failing for some time. He\nhad taken a journey abroad, with one of his daughters, in hopes of\nrefreshment and invigoration, but the fatigue and excitement were more\nthan he could bear; he returned home, and took to his bed. He suffered\nno pain, and was in a heavenly state of mind indeed, a most blessed\ndeath-bed, most suggestive of comfort and peace to all who survive as a\nmost evident proof of what the close of life may be, if only 'that life\nis spent faithfully in doing our duty to God'--as Patteson wrote to his\nold friend, Miss Neill.\n\n'And now one word about myself, which at such a time I should not\nobtrude upon you, but that the visit of the Bishop of New Zealand made\nit necessary for me to speak.\n\n'I am going with him to work, if all is well, at the Antipodes,\nbelieving that the growing desire for missionary work, which for\nyears has been striving within me, ought no longer to be resisted, and\ntrusting that I am not mistaken in supposing that this is the line of\nduty that God has marked out for me.\n\n'You may be sure that all this is done with the full consent and\napprobation of my dear Father. He and the Bishop had a great deal of\nconversation about it, and I left it entirely for them to determine.\nThat it will be a great trial to us all at Christmas when we sail, I\ncannot conceal from myself; it is so great a separation that I cannot\nexpect ever to see my dear Father, perhaps not any of those I love best,\nagain in this world. But if you all know that I am doing, or trying to\ndo, what is right, you will all be happy about me; and what has just\nbeen taking place at the Manor House teaches us to look, on a little to\na blessed meeting in a better place soon. It is from no dissatisfaction\nat my present position, that I am induced to take this step. I have been\nvery happy at Alfington; and I hope to be ordained Priest, on the 24th\nof September, with a calm mind. I trust I am not following any sudden\nhasty impulse, but obeying a real call to a real work, and (in the\nmidst of much self-seeking and other alloy) not wholly without a sincere\ndesire to labour for the honour and glory of God.'\n\nWith this purpose full in view, Coleridge Patteson received Ordination\nas a Priest in the ensuing Ember Week, again at the hands of Bishop\nPhillpotts, in Exeter Cathedral; where a beautiful marble pulpit is to\ncommemorate the fact.\n\nThe wrench from home and friends could not but be terrible. The sisters,\nindeed, were so far prepared that they had been aware from the first\nof his wish and his mother's reception of it, and when they told their\nFather, he was pleased and comforted; for truly he was upheld by the\nstrength of willing sacrifice. Those were likewise sustained who felt\nthe spirit of missionary enterprise and sympathy, which was at that time\nso strongly infused into the Church; but the shock was severe to many,\nand especially to the brother who had been devoted to Coley from their\nearliest infancy, and among his relations the grief was great.\n\nAs to the district of Alfington, the distress was extreme. The people\nhad viewed Mr. Patteson as their exclusive property, and could not\nforgive the Bishop of New Zealand for, as they imagined, tempting him\naway. 'Ah! Sir,' was the schoolmistress's answer to some warm words from\nMr. Justice Coleridge in praise of Bishop Selwyn, 'he may be--no\ndoubt he is--a very good man. I only wish he had kept his hands off\nAlfington.' 'It would not be easy,' says the parishioner from whom\nI have already quoted, 'to describe the intense sorrow in view of\nseparation. Mr. Patteson did all he could to assure us that it was his\nown will and act, consequent upon the conviction that it was God's will\nthat he should go, and to exonerate the Bishop, but for some time he was\nregarded as the immediate cause of our loss; and he never knew half the\nhard things said of him by the same people who, when they heard he\nwas coming, and would preach on the Sunday, did their utmost to make\nthemselves and their children look their very best.'\n\nIndeed, the affectionate writer seems to have shared the poor people's\nfeeling that they had thus festally received a sort of traitor with\ndesigns upon their pastor. She goes on to tell of his ministrations to\nher mother, whose death-bed was the first he attended as a Priest.\n\nIt would be impossible for me to say all he was to her. Not long before\nher death, when he had just left the room, she said, 'I have not felt\nany pain or weakness whilst Mr. Patteson has been here.' I was not\nalways present during his visits to her, and I think their closer\ncommunings were only known to Him above, but their effects were\ndiscernible in that deep confidence in him on her part, and that lasting\nimpression on him, for you will remember, in his letter last April, he\ngoes back in memory to that time, and calls it--'a solemn scene in my\nearly ministry.' Solemn, indeed, it was to us all that last night of\nher life upon earth. He was with her from about the middle of the day\non Monday until about four o'clock on Tuesday morning; when, after\ncommending her soul to God, he closed her eyes with his own hands, and\ntaking out his watch, told us the hour and moment of her departure. He\nthen went home and apprised Miss Wilkins of her death in these words:\n'My soul fleeth unto the LORD before the morning watch, I say before the\nmorning watch,' and at the earliest dawn of day, the villagers were made\naware that she had passed away by the tolling bell, and tolled by him.\nThis was not the only death during his ministry among us; but it was\nthe first occasion where he gave the Communion of the Sick, also when he\nread the Burial Service. Cases of rejoicing with those that rejoiced as\nwell as of weeping with those that wept, the child and the aged seemed\nalike to appreciate his goodness. In him were combined those qualities\nwhich could inspire with deep reverence and entire confidence. Many,\nmany are or will be the stars in the crown of his rejoicing, and some\nowe to him under God, their deeper work of grace in the heart and their\nquickening in the divine life.'\n\nA remarkable testimony is this to the impression remaining after the\nlapse of sixteen years from a ministry extending over no more than\nseventeen months. 'Our Mr. Patteson' the people called him to the last.\n\nYet, in the face of all this grief, the parting till death, the work\nbroken off, the life cut short midway, the profusion of needs at home\nfor able ministers, is it to be regretted that Coleridge Patteson\ndevoted himself to the more remote fields abroad? I think we shall find\nthat his judgment was right. Alfington might love him dearly, but the\nnumbers were too small to afford full scope for his powers, and he would\nhave experienced the trials of cramped and unemployed energies had he\nremained there beyond his apprenticeship. Nor were his gifts, so far as\ncan be judged, exactly those most requisite for work in large towns.\nHe could deal with individuals better than with masses, and his\nmetaphysical mind, coupled with the curious difficulty he had in writing\nto an unrealised public, either in sermons or reports, might have\nrendered him less effective than men of less ability. He avoided,\nmoreover, the temptations, pain, and sting of the intellectual warfare\nwithin the bosom of the Church, and served her cause more effectually on\nher borders than he could in her home turmoils. His great and peculiar\ngifts of languages, seconded by his capacity for navigation, enabled him\nto be the builder up of the Melanesian Church in so remarkable a manner\nthat one can hardly suppose but that he was marked out for it, and these\nendowments would have found no scope in an ordinary career. Above all,\nno man can safely refuse the call to obey the higher leadings of grace.\nIf he deny them, he will probably fall below that which he was before,\nand lose 'even that which he seemeth to have.'\n\nA few days later, he wrote to his cousin Arthur Coleridge an expression\nof his feelings regarding the step he had taken in the midst of the pain\nit was costing to others:--\n\n\n'Feniton: November 11, 9 A.M.\n\n'My dear Arthur,--Your letter was very acceptable because I am, I\nconfess, in that state of mind occasionally when the assurance of my\nbeing right, coming from another, tends to strengthen my own conviction.\n\n'I do not really doubt as I believe; and yet, knowing my want of\nconsideration for others, and many other thoughts which naturally\nprevent my exercising a clear sound judgment on a matter affecting\nmyself, I sometimes (when I have had a conversation, it throws me\nback upon analysing my own conduct) feel inclined to go over the whole\nprocess again, and that is somewhat trying.\n\n'On the other hand, I am almost strangely free from excitement. I live\non exactly as I did before: and even when alone with Father, talk just\nas I used to talk, have nothing more to tell him, not knowing how to\nmake a better use of these last quiet evenings.\n\n'By-and-by I shall wish I had done otherwise, perhaps, but I do not know\nnow, that I have anything specially requiring our consideration: we talk\nabout family matters, the movements in the theological and political\nworld, &c., very little about ourselves.\n\n'One of all others I delight to think of for the music's sake, and\nfar more for the glorious thought that it conveys. \"Then shall the\nrighteous,\" not indeed that I dare apply it to myself (as you know), but\nit helps one on, teaches what we may be, what our two dear parents are,\nand somehow the intervening, space becomes smaller as the eye is fixed\nsteadily on the glory beyond.\n\n'God bless you, my dear fellow.\n\n'Ever your affectionate\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThe Mission party intended to sail immediately after Christmas in the\n'Southern Cross,' the schooner which was being built at Blackwall for\nvoyages among the Melanesian isles. In expectation of this, Patteson\nwent up to London in the beginning of December, when the admirable\ncrayon likeness was taken by Mr. Richmond, an engraving from which is\nhere given. He then took his last leave of his uncle, and of the cousins\nwho had been so dear to him ever since the old days of daily meeting\nin childhood; and Miss Neill, then a permanent invalid, notes down: 'On\nDecember 13, I had the happiness of receiving the Holy Communion from\ndear Coley Patteson, and the following morning I parted from him, as\nI fear, for ever. God bless and prosper him, and guard him in all the\ndangers he will encounter!' He wrote thus soon after his return:--\n\n\n'Feniton: December 22, 1854.\n\n'My dear Miss Neill,--I began a note to you a day or two ago, but I\ncould not go on with it, for I have had so very much to do in church\nand out of it, parochializing, writing sermons, &c. It makes some little\ndifference in point of time whether I am living here or at Alfington,\nand so the walking about from one house to another is not so convenient\nfor writing letters as for thinking over sermons.\n\n'I need not tell you what a real happiness and comfort it is to me to\nhave been with you again and to have talked so long with you, and most\nof all to have received the Communion with you. It is a blessed thought\nthat no interval of space or time can interrupt that Communion of the\nSpirit, and that we are one in Him, though working in different corners\nof the Lord's field.\n\n'I want to look you out a little book or two; and Fanny has told you\nthat if ever my picture is photographed, I have particularly desired\nthem to send you a copy with my love. Your cross I have now round my\nneck, and I shall always wear it; it will hang there with a locket\ncontaining locks of hair of my dear Father and Mother, the girls, and\nJem.\n\n'You will be glad to hear that they all seem cheerful and hearty. Fan\nis not well, but I do not see that she is depressed or unhappy. In fact,\nthe terrible events of the war prove a lesson to all, and they feel, I\nsuppose, that it might be far worse, and that so long as I am doing my\nduty, there is no cause for sorrow.\n\n'Still there will be seasons of loneliness and sadness, and it seems to\nme as if it always was so in the case of all the people of whom we read\nin the Bible. Our Lord distinctly taught His disciples to expect it to\nbe so, and even experienced this sorrow of heart Himself, filling up\nthe full measure of His cup of bitterness. So I don't learn that I ought\nexactly to wish it to be otherwise, so much is said in the Bible about\nbeing made partaker of His, sufferings, only I pray that it may please\nGod to bear me up in the midst of it. I must repeat that your example\nis constantly before me, as a witness to the power that God gives of\nenduring pain and sickness. It is indeed, and great comfort it gives\nme. He is not indeed keeping you still in the world without giving you\na work to do, and enabling you from your bed of sickness to influence\nstrongly a circle of friends.\n\n'God bless you for all your kindness to me, and watchfulness over me\nas a child, for your daily thought of me and prayers for me, and may He\ngrant that I may wear your precious gift not only on but in my heart.\n\n'Always your very affectionate\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.\n\n'P.S.--I do not expect to sail for three weeks; this morning I had\na line about the ship, and they say that she cannot be ready for a\nfortnight.'\n\n\nOn Christmas-day, he was presented with a Bible subscribed for by\nthe whole Alfington population. Here is a sentence from his letter of\nacknowledgment:--\n\n'If these poor needy souls can, from love to a fellow creature whom they\nhave known but a few months, deny themselves their very crumb of bread\nto show their affection, what should be our conduct to Him from whom we\nhave received all things, and to whom we owe our life, strength, and all\nthat we possess?'\n\nThe farewell service was said by one of these poor old people to be like\na great funeral. Sexagesima Sunday was Sir John's sixty-sixth birthday,\nand it was spent in expectation that it would be the last of the whole\nparty at home, for on the Monday Sir John was obliged to go to London\nfor a meeting of the Judicial Committee. The two notes his son wrote\nduring his absence are, perhaps to prove good spirits, full of the\ndelights of skating, which were afforded by the exceptionally severe\nfrost of February 1855, which came opportunely to regale with this\nfavourite pastime one who would never tread on solid ice again. He wrote\nwith zest of the large merry party of cousins skating together, of the\ndismay of the old housekeeper when he skimmed her in a chair over the\nice, sighing out, in her terror, 'My dear man, don't ye go so fast,'\nwith all manner of endearing expressions--of the little boys to whom\nhe threw nuts to be scrambled for, and of his own plunge through the\nthinner ice, when, regardless of drenched garments, he went on with\nthe sport to the last, and came home with clothes frozen as stiff as a\nboard.\n\nHe was not gone when his father and brother came home on the\ntwenty-sixth, prepared to go with him to Southampton.\n\nThe note to his cousin Arthur written at this time thus ends: 'We\nworked together once at Dresden. Whatever we have acquired in the way of\naccomplishments, languages, love of art and music, everything brings us\ninto contact with somebody, and gives us the power of influencing them\nfor good, and all to the glory of God.'\n\nMany were touched when, on the first Sunday in Lent, as Sir John\nPatteson was wont to assist in Church by reading the Lessons, it fell to\nhim to pronounce the blessing of God upon the patriarch for his willing\nsurrender of his son.\n\nAfter all, the 'Southern Cross' was detected in leaking again, and\nas she was so small that the Mission party would have been most\ninconveniently crowded for so long a voyage, the Bishop was at length\npersuaded to relinquish his intention of sailing in her, and passages\nwere taken for himself, Mrs. Selwyn, Mr. Patteson, and another\nclergyman, in the 'Duke of Portland,' which did not sail till the end of\nMarch, when Patteson was to meet her at Gravesend.\n\nThus he did not depart till the 25th. 'I leave home this morning I may\nsay, for it has struck midnight,' he wrote to Miss Neill. 'I bear with\nme to the world's end your cross, and the memory of one who is bearing\nwith great and long-tried patience the cross that God has laid upon\nher.'\n\nHe chose to walk to the coach that would take him to join the railway at\nCullompton. The last kisses were exchanged at the door, and the sisters\nwatched him out of sight, then saw that their father was not standing\nwith them. They consulted for a moment, and then one of them silently\nlooked into his sitting room, and saw him with his little Bible, and\ntheir hearts were comforted concerning him. After that family prayers\nwere never read without a clause for Missionaries, 'especially the\nabsent member of this family.'\n\nHe went up to his brother's chambers in London, whence a note was sent\nhome the next day to his father:--\n\n'I write one line to-night to tell you that I am, thank God, calm and\neven cheerful. I stayed a few minutes in the churchyard after I left\nyou, picked a few primrose buds from dear mamma's grave, and then walked\non.\n\n'At intervals I felt a return of strong violent emotion, but I soon\nbecame calm; I read most of the way up, and felt surprised that I could\nmaster my own feelings so much.\n\n'How much I owe to the cheerful calm composure which you all showed this\nmorning! I know it must have cost you all a great effort. It spared me a\ngreat one.'\n\nOn the 27th the brothers went on board the 'Duke of Portland,' and\nsurveyed the cabins, looking in at the wild scene of confusion sure\nto be presented by an emigrant ship on the last day in harbour. A long\nletter, with a minute description of the ship and the arrangements ends\nwith: 'I have every blessing and comfort. Not one is wanting. I am not\nin any excitement, I think, certainly I do not believe myself to be\nin such a state as to involve a reaction of feeling. Of course if I am\nseedy at sea for a few days I shall feel low-spirited also most likely,\nand miss you all more in consequence. But that does not go below the\nsurface. Beneath is calm tranquil peace of mind.'\n\nOn the 28th the two brothers joined the large number of friends who went\ndown with the Mission party, among them Mr. Edward Coleridge.\n\nParting notes were written from on board to all the most beloved; to\nlittle Paulina, of bright hopes, to Miss Neill of her cross; to Arthur\nthe German greeting, 'Lebe wohl, doch nicht auf Ewigkeit,'--to Mr.\nJustice Coleridge:--\n\n\n'March 28, 1855.\n\n'My dear Uncle,--One line more to thank you for all your love and to\npray for the blessing of God upon you and yours now and for ever.\n\n'We sail to-day. Such letters from home, full of calm, patient, cheerful\nresignation to his will. Wonderfully has God supported us through this\ntrial. My kind love to Arthur. Always, my dear Uncle, Your affectionate,\ngrateful Nephew,\n\n'JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON.'\n\n\nPerhaps the frame of mind in which Coley left England can best be\ngathered from the following extract from a letter to his father from his\nuncle Edward:--\n\n'While on board I had a good deal of quiet talk with him, and was fully\nconfirmed by his manner and words, of that which I did not doubt before,\nthat the surrender of self, which he has made, has been put into his\nheart by God's Holy Spirit, and that all his impulses for good are based\non the firm foundation of trust in God, and a due appreciation of his\nmortal, as well as professional condition. I never saw a hand set on the\nplough stead with more firmness, yet entire modesty, or with an eye and\nheart less turned backwards on the world behind. I know you do not in\nany way repine at what you have allowed him to do; and I feel sure that\nere long you will see cause to bless God not only for having given\nyou such a son, but also for having put it into his heart so to devote\nhimself to that particular work in the Great Vineyard.'\n\nAbout 5 P.M. the 'Duke of Portland' swung round with the tide, strangers\nwere ordered on shore, Coleridge and James Patteson said their last\nfarewells, and while the younger brother went home by the night-train\nto carry the final greetings to his father and sisters, the ship weighed\nanchor and the voyage was begun.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI. THE VOYAGE AND FIRST YEAR. 1855-1856.\n\n\n\nWhen the See of New Zealand was first formed, Archbishop Howley\ncommitted to the care of the first Bishop the multitudinous islands\nscattered in the South Pacific. The technical bounds of the diocese were\nnot defined; but matters were to a certain degree simplified by Bishop\nSelwyn's resolution only to deal with totally heathen isles, and\nwhatever superiority the authorised chief pastor might rightfully claim,\nnot to confuse the minds of the heathen by the sight of variations among\nChristians, and thus never to preach in any place already occupied by\nMissions, a resolution from which he only once departed, in the case of\na group apparently relinquished by its first teachers. This cut off all\nthe properly called Polynesian isles, whose inhabitants are of the Malay\ntype, and had been the objects of care to the London Mission, ever since\nthe time of John Williams; also the Fiji Islands; and a few which had\nbeen taken in hand by a Scottish Presbyterian Mission; but the groups\nwhich seem to form the third fringe round the north-eastern curve of\nAustralia, the New Hebrides, Banks Islands, and Solomon Isles, were\nalmost entirely open ground, with their population called Melanesian\nor Black Islanders, from their having much of the Negro in their\ncomposition and complexion. These were regarded as less quick but more\nsteady than the Polynesian race, with somewhat the same difference of\ncharacter as there is between the Teuton and the Kelt. The reputation\nof cannibalism hung about many of the islands, and there was no doubt\nof boats' crews having been lost among them, but in most cases there had\nbeen outrage to provoke reprisals.\n\nThese islands had as yet been little visited, except by Captain Cook,\ntheir first discoverer, and isolated Spanish exploring expeditions; but\nof late whalers and sandal wood traders, both English and American, had\nbeen finding their way among them, and too often acting as irresponsible\nadventurous men of a low class are apt to do towards those whom they\nregard as an inferior race.\n\nMission work had hardly reached this region. It was in attempting\nit that John Williams had met his death at Erromango, one of the New\nHebrides; but one of his best institutions had been a school in one of\nthe Samoan or Navigators' Islands, in which were educated young men of\nthe native races to be sent to the isles to prepare the way for white\nmen. Very nobly had these Samoan pupils carried out his intentions,\nbraving dislike, disease and death in the islands to which they were\nappointed, and having the more to endure because they came without the\nprestige of a white man. Moreover, the language was no easier to them\nthan to him, as their native speech is entirely different from the\nMelanesian; which is besides broken into such an extraordinary number of\ndifferent dialects, varying from one village to another in an island not\ntwenty miles long, that a missionary declared that the people must have\ncome straight from the Tower of Babel, and gone on dividing their speech\never since. Just at the time of the formation of the See of New Zealand,\nthe excitement caused at home by Williams's death had subsided, and the\nLondon Mission's funds were at so low an ebb that, so far from extending\ntheir work, they had been obliged to let some of it fall into abeyance.\n\nAll this came to the knowledge of the Bishop of New Zealand while he was\noccupied with the cares of his first seven years in his more immediate\ndiocese, and in 1848, he made a voyage of inspection in H.M.S. 'Dido.'\nHe then perceived that to attempt the conversion of this host of isles\nof tropical climate through a resident English clergyman in each, would\nbe impossible, besides which he knew that no Church takes root without\nnative clergy, and he therefore intended bringing boys to New Zealand,\nand there educating them to become teachers to their countrymen. He had\nlately established, near Auckland, for the sons of the colonists, St.\nJohn's College, which in 1850 was placed under the Reverend Charles John\nAbraham, the former Eton master, who had joined the Bishop to act\nas Archdeacon and assist in the scheme of education; and here it was\nplanned that the young Melanesians should be trained.\n\nThe Bishop possessed a little schooner of twenty-two tons, the 'Undine,'\nin which he was accustomed to make his expeditions along the coast;\nand in August 1849, he set forth in her, with a crew of four, without a\nweapon of any sort, to 'launch out into the deep, and let down his nets\nfor a draught.' Captain Erskine of H.M.S. 'Havannah' readily undertook\nto afford him any assistance practicable, and they were to cruise in\ncompany, the 'Undine' serving as a pilot boat or tender on coasts where\nthe only guide was 'a few rough sketches collected from small trading\nvessels.'\n\nThey met near Tanna, but not before the Bishop had been in Dillon's\nBay, on the island of Erromango, the scene of Williams's murder, and had\nallowed some of the natives to come on board his vessel as a first step\ntowards friendly intercourse. The plan agreed on by the Bishop and the\nCaptain was to go as far north as Vate, and return by way of the Loyalty\nIsles, which fringe the east coast of New Caledonia, to touch at that\nlarge island, and then visit the Island of Pines, at its extreme south\npoint, and there enquire into a massacre said to have taken place. This\nwas effected, and in each place the natives showed themselves friendly.\nFrom New Caledonia the Bishop brought away a pupil named Dallup, and\nat two of the Loyalty Islands, Nengone or Mare, and Lifu, where Samoan\nteachers had excited a great desire for farther instruction, boys\neagerly begged to go with him, and two were taken from each, in especial\nSiapo, a young Nengone chief eighteen or nineteen years old, of very\npleasing aspect, and with those dignified princely manners which rank is\nalmost sure to give. The first thing done with such lads when they came\non board was to make clothes for them, and when they saw the needle\nemployed in their service, they were almost sure to beg to be taught the\nart, and most of them soon became wonderfully dexterous in it.\n\nOn the Island of Pines, so called from the tower-like masses of the\nNorfolk pine on the shores, was at that time the French Bishop of New\nCaledonia, the Oul, as the natives called him and his countrymen, for\nwhom they had little love. After an interview between the two bishops,\nthe 'Undine' returned to New Zealand, where the native boys were\nbrought to St. John's College. The system of education there combined\nagricultural labour and printing with study, and the authorities and the\nboys shared according to their strength in both, for there was nothing\nmore prominent in the Bishop's plan than that the coloured man was not\nto be treated as a mere hewer of wood and drawer of water, but, as a\nMaori once expressed the idea: 'Gentleman--gentleman thought nothing\nthat ought to be done at all too mean for him; pig-gentleman never\nworked.' The whole community, including the ladies and their guests,\ndined together in hall.\n\nThe five boys behaved well, Siapo being a leader in all that was good,\nand made advances in Christian knowledge; but it was one of the Bishop's\nprinciples that none of them should be baptized till he had proved\nwhether his faith were strong enough to resist the trial of a return to\nhis native home and heathen friends. The climate of New Zealand is\nfar too chilly for these inhabitants of tropical regions, and it was\nabsolutely necessary to return them to their homes during the winter\nquarter from June to August. The scheme therefore was to touch at their\nislands, drop them there, proceed then further on the voyage, and then,\nreturning the same way, resume them, if they were willing to come under\ninstruction for baptism and return to the college. In the lack of a\ncommon language, Bishop Selwyn hoped to make them all learn English, and\nonly communicate with one another in that.\n\nThe 'Undine,' not being large enough for the purpose, was exchanged for\nthe 'Border Maid;' and in the course of the next three years an annual\nvoyage was made, and boys to the number of from twelve to fourteen\nbrought home. Siapo of Nengone was by far the most promising scholar. He\nwas a strong influence, when at home, on behalf of the Samoan teachers,\nand assisted in the building of a round chapel, smoothly floored, and\nplastered with coral lime. In 1852 he was baptized, together with three\nof his friends, in this chapel, in his own island, by the Bishop, in the\npresence of a thousand persons, and received the name of George. When\nthe 'Border Maid' returned, though he was convalescent from a severe\nillness, he not only begged that he might come back, but that the\nyoung girl to whom he was betrothed might be taken to New Zealand to\nbe trained in Christian ways. Ready consent was given, and the little\nWabisane, and her companion Wasitutru (Little Chattering Bird), were\nbrought on board, and arrayed in petticoats fashioned by the Bishop's\nown hands, from his own counterpane, with white skirts above,\nembellished with a bow of scarlet ribbon, the only piece of finery to be\nfound in the 'Border Maid.' The Rev. William Nihill had spent the period\nof this trip at Nengone, and had become deeply interested in the people.\nThe island was then thought likely to become a centre whence to work\non adjacent places; but to the grief and disappointment of all, George\nSiapo did not live through the summer at St. John's. He had never\nrecovered his illness at home, and rapidly declined; but his faith\nburnt brighter as his frame became weaker, and his heart was set on the\nconversion of his native country. He warmly begged Mr. Nihill to return\nthither, and recommended him to the protection of his friends, and\nhe wished his own brother to become scholar at St. John's. His whole\ndemeanour was that of a devoted Christian, and when he died, in the\nJanuary of the year 1853, he might be regarded as the firstfruits of the\nMelanesian Church. Since Mr. Nihill was about to return to Nengone, and\nthere was a certain leaven of Christianity in the place, the girls were\nnot subjected to the probation of a return before baptism, but were\nchristened Caroline and Sarah, after Mrs. Abraham and Mrs. Selwyn.\n\nAnother very satisfactory pupil was little Umao. An English sailor in a\ndreadful state of disease had been left behind by a whaler at Erromango,\nwhere the little Umao, a mere boy, had attached himself to him, and\nwaited on him with the utmost care and patience, though meeting with no\nreturn but blows and rough words. The man moved to Tanna, where there\nare mineral springs highly esteemed by the natives, and when the 'Border\nMaid' touched there, in 1851, he was found in a terrible condition,\nbut with the little fellow faithfully attending him. The Englishman was\ncarried to Sydney, and left in the hospital there; but Umao begged not\nto be sent home, for he said his parents cruelly ill-used him and his\nbrothers, and set them to watch the fire all night to keep off evil\nspirits; so, when New Zealand became too cold for him, he was sent to\nwinter at the London Society's station in Anaiteum. His sweet friendly\nnature expanded under Christian training, but his health failed, and in\nthe course of the voyage of 1853 he became so ill that his baptism was\nhastened, and he shortly after died in the Bishop's arms.\n\nTwo more boys, cousins, from Lifu, also died. There never was any\nsuspicion or displeasure shown among the relatives of these youths.\nTheir own habits were frightfully unhealthy; they were not a long-lived\npeople, and there was often great mortality among them, and though they\nwere grieved at the loss of their sons, they never seemed distrustful\nor ungrateful. But it was evident that, even in the summer months, the\nclimate of New Zealand was trying to these tropical constitutions, and\nas it was just then determined that Norfolk Island should no longer be\nthe penal abode of the doubly convicted felons of Botany Bay, but should\ninstead become the home of the descendants of the mutineers of the\n'Bounty' who had outgrown Pitcairn's Island, the Bishop cast his\neyes upon it as the place most likely to agree alike with English and\nMelanesian constitutions, and therefore eminently fitted for the place\nof instruction.\n\nThe expenses of the voyages in the 'Border Maid' had been met partly by\nthe Eton Association, and partly by another association at Sydney, where\na warm interest in these attempts had been excited and maintained by the\nyearly visits of Bishop Selwyn, who usually visited Australia while\nthe lads were wintering at their homes. But the 'Border Maid' was\nsuperannuated, nor had she ever been perfectly fitted for the purpose;\nand when, in 1853, the Bishop was obliged to come to England to take\nmeasures for dividing his diocese, he also hoped to obtain permission to\nestablish a Melanesian school on Norfolk Island, and to obtain the\nmeans of building a schooner yacht, small enough to be navigated in\nthe narrow, shallow creeks separating the clustered islets, and yet\ncapacious enough for the numerous passengers. In the meantime Mr. Nihill\nwent to Nengone with his wife and child. His lungs were much affected,\nbut he hoped that the climate would prolong his power of working among\nthe Christian community, who heartily loved and trusted him.\n\nOther fellow-labourers the Bishop hoped to obtain at home, though it was\nhis principle never to solicit men to come with him, only to take those\nwho offered themselves; but all the particulars of the above narration\nhad been known to Coley Patteson through the Bishop's correspondence\nwith Mr. Edward Coleridge, as well as by the yearly report put forth by\nthe Eton Association, and this no doubt served to keep up in his heart\nthe flame that had burnt unseen for so many years, and to determine its\ndirection, though he put himself unreservedly at the Bishop's disposal,\nto work wherever he might be sent.\n\nThe means for the mission ship 'Southern Cross' were raised. She was\nbuilt at Blackwall by Messrs. Wigram, and, after all the delays, sailed\non the very same day as the 'Duke of Portland.'\n\nMeantime here are a few extracts from Patteson's journal-letter during\nthe voyage. Sea-sickness was very slightly disabling with him; he was up\nand about in a short time, and on the 8th of April was writing:--\n\n'What a day this has been to me, the twenty-eighth anniversary of my\nbaptism to begin with, and then Easter Day spent at sea!\n\n'April 20th, lat, 4\u00b0 N., long. 25\u00b0 W.--Rather hot. It is very fine\nto see all the stars of the heavens almost rise and pass overhead and\nset--Great Bear and Southern Cross shining as in rivalry of each other,\nand both hemispheres showing forth all their glory. Only the Polar Star,\nthat shines straight above you, is gone below our horizon; and One alone\nknows how much toil, and perhaps sorrow, there may be in store for\nme before I see it again. But there is and will be much happiness\nand comfort also, for indeed I have great peace of mind, and a firm\nconviction that I am doing what is right; a feeling that God is\ndirecting and ordering the course of my life, and whenever I take the\nonly true view of the business of life, I am happy and cheerful.\n\n'May 10.--It is, I find, quite settled, and was indeed always, that I am\nto go always with the Bishop, roving about the Melanesian department, so\nthat for some years, if I live, I shall be generally six months at sea.\nAnd not little to my delight, I find that the six winter months (i.e.\nyour summer months) are the ones that we shall spend in sailing about\nthe islands within or near the tropics, so that I shall have little more\nshivering limbs or blue hands, though I may feel in the long run\nthe effect of a migratory swallow-like life. But the sea itself is a\nperpetual tonic, and when I am thoroughly accustomed to a sea life, I\nthink I shall be better almost on board ship.'\n\nThis seems the place for Bishop Selwyn's impression, as written to a\nfriend at this very time. 'Coley Patteson is a treasure which I humbly\nset down as a Divine recompense for our own boys*. He is a good fellow,\nand the tone of his mind is one which I can thoroughly enjoy, content\nwith the 'to aei' present, yet always aiming at a brighter and better\nfuture.'\n\n*(Footnote: Left at home for education.)\n\n'June 18.--You must think of us at 8 P.M. on Sundays--just at 8.20 A.M.\nbefore you come down to prayers. The Bishop has a service in the College\nchapel; then, after all the \"runners\" (clergy who have district chapels)\nhave returned, chanting Psalms, and reading collects, which bear\nespecially on the subject of unity, introducing the special Communion\nthanksgiving for Whitsunday, and the Sanctus, and the Prayer for Unity\nin the Accession Service. I feel that it must be an impressive and very\nhappy way of ending the Sunday, and you will be at Sunday prayers at the\nother end of the world praying with us.\n\n'July 3.--Still at sea. As soon as we rounded the North Cape on Friday,\nJune 29, a contrary wind sprang up, and we have been beating about,\ntacking between North Cape and Cape Brett ever since. Fine sunny weather\nand light winds, but always from the south. To me it is a matter of\nentire indifference; I am quite ready to go ashore, but do not mind a\nfew more days at sea. The climate is delightful, thermometer on deck 55\u00b0\nto 60\u00b0, and such glorious sunsets! There is really something peculiar in\nthe delicacy of the colours here--faint pink and blue, and such an idea\nof distance is given by the great transparency of the air. It is full\nmoon too now, and I walk the deck from eleven to twelve every night with\nno great-coat, thinking about you all and my future work. Last night the\nBishop was with me, and told me definitely about my occupation for the\ntime to come. All day we have been slowly, very slowly, passing along\nfrom the north headland of the Bay of Islands to Cape Brett, and along\nthe land south of it. A fine coast it is, full of fine harbours and\ncreeks, the bay itself like a large Torbay, only bolder. Due south of\nus is the Bream headland, then the Barrier Islands. We are only about a\nmile from the shore, and refreshing it is to look at it; but as yet we\nhave seen no beach; the rock runs right into the sea. Such bustle and\nexcitement on board! emigrants getting their things ready, carpenters\nmaking the old \"Duke\" look smart, sailors scrubbing, but no painting\ngoing on, to our extreme delight. It is so calm, quite as smooth as a\nsmall lake; indeed there is less perceptible motion than I have felt\non the Lake of Como. No backs, no bones aching, though here I speak for\nothers more than for myself, for the Bishop began his talk last night by\nsaying, \"One great point is decided, that you are a good sailor. So far\nyou are qualified for Melanesia.\"'\n\nTo this may be added that Patteson had been farther preparing for\nthis work by a diligent study of the Maori language, and likewise of\nnavigation; and what an instructor he had in the knowledge of the\ncoasts may be gathered from the fact that an old sea captain living at\nKohimarama sent a note to St. John's College stating that he was sure\nthat the Bishop had come, for he knew every vessel that had ever come\ninto Auckland harbour, and was sure this barque had never been there\nbefore; yet she had come in the night through all the intricate\npassages, and was rounding the heads without a pilot on board. He\ntherefore concluded that the Bishop must be on board, as there was\nno other man that could have taken command of her at such a time, and\nbrought her into that harbour.\n\nThe Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn went on shore as soon as possible; Patteson\nwaited till the next day. Indeed he wrote on July 5 that he was in\nno hurry to land, since he knew no one in the whole neighbourhood but\nArchdeacon Abraham. Then he describes the aspect of Auckland from the\nsea:--\n\n'It looks much like a small sea-side town, but not so substantially\nbuilt, nor does it convey the same idea of comfort and wealth; rude\nwarehouses, &c., being mixed up with private houses on the beach. The\ntown already extends to a distance of perhaps half a mile on each side\nof this cove, on which the principal part of it is built. Just in the\ncentre of the cove stands the Wesleyan chapel. On the rising ground on\nthe east of the cove is the Roman Catholic chapel, and on the west side\nis St. Paul's Church, an Early English stone building, looking really\necclesiastical and homelike. The College, at a distance of about five\nmiles from the town, on some higher ground, northwest of it, is reached\nfrom the harbour by a boat ascending a creek to within a mile of the\nbuildings, so that we shall not go into the town at all when we land. By\nwater too will be our shortest, at all events our quickest way from the\ncollege to the town.\n\n'July 9, St. John's College.--Though we reached harbour on July 5, and\nlanded the next day, I have scarcely found a minute to write a line.\nImagine my feelings as I touched land and jumped ashore at a creek under\nJudge Martin's house, in the presence of Rota Waitoa, the only native\nclergyman in the diocese; Levi, who is perhaps to be ordained, and four\nor five other natives. Tena ra fa koe e ho a? \"How are you, my friends?\"\n(the common New Zealand greeting), said I as I shook hands with them one\nby one. We walked up from the beach to the house. Roses in full flower,\nand mimosa with a delicate golden flower, and various other shrubs and\nflowers in full bloom. Midwinter, recollect. The fragrance of the air,\nthe singing of the birds, the fresh smell (it was raining a little and\nthe grass was steaming) were delicious, as you may suppose. Here I\nwas, all at once, carrying up baggage, Maoris before and behind, and\neverything new and strange, and yet I felt as if it were all right and\nnatural. The Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn had landed the day before, and\nwe were heartily welcomed. Mr. Martin took me into his study. \"I am\nthankful to see you as a fresh labourer among us here; a man of your\nname needs no introduction to a lawyer.\" Nothing could exceed his\nkindness. He began talking of at once.\n\n'We dined at about 12.30. Clean mutton chops, potatoes and pumpkin (very\ngood indeed), jam pudding, bread, and plenty of water (beer I refused).\nIt did taste so good, I am quite ashamed of thinking about it. About two\no'clock I started with the Bishop for the College, nearly six miles from\nAuckland.\n\n'The Bishop is at a kind of collegiate establishment on the outskirts of\nAuckland, where Mr. Kissling, a clergyman, is the resident, and thither\nI go on Wednesday, to live till October 1, when we start, please God,\nin the \"Southern Cross\" for the cruise around New Zealand. Here, at Mr.\nKissling's, I shall have work with Maoris, learning each day, I trust,\nto speak more correctly and fluently. Young men for teachers, and it may\nbe for clergymen, will form at once my companions and my pupils, a\ngood proportion of them being nearly or quite of my own age. I am to\nbe constantly at the Judge's, running in and out, working on Sundays\nanywhere as I may be sent. So much for myself.\n\n'The College is really all that is necessary for a thoroughly good and\ncomplete place of education; the hall all lined with kauri pine wood, a\nlarge handsome room, collegiate, capable of holding two hundred persons;\nthe school-room, eighty feet long, with admirable arrangements for\nholding classes separately. There are two very cosy rooms, which belong\nto the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn respectively, in one of which I am now\nsitting.... On the walls are hanging about certain tokens of Melanesia\nin the shape of gourds, calabashes, &c., such as I shall send you one\nday; a spade on one side, just as a common horse halter hanging from\nAbraham's bookshelf, betokens colonial life. Our rooms are quite large\nenough, bigger than my room at Feniton, but no furniture, of course,\nbeyond a bedstead, a table for writing, and an old bookcase; but it is\nnever cold enough to care about furniture... I clean, of course, my room\nin part, make my bed, help to clear away things after meals, &c., and am\nquite accustomed to do without servants for anything but cooking. There\nis a weaving room, which used to be well worked, a printing press\n(from C. M. S.) which has done some good work, and is now at work\nagain--English, Maori, Greek and Hebrew types. Separate groups of\nbuildings, which once were filled with lads from different Melanesian\nisles--farm buildings, barns, &c. Last of all, the little chapel\nof kauri wood, stained desk, like the inside of a really good\necclesiastical building in England, porch S.W. angle, a semicircular\napse at the west, containing a large handsome stone font, open seats of\ncourse. The east end very simple, semicircular apse, small windows all\nfull of stained glass, raised one step, no rails, the Bishop's chair\non the north side, bench on the south. Here my eye and my mind rested\ncontentedly and peacefully. The little chapel, holding about seventy\npersons, is already dear to me. I preached in it last night at the seven\no'clock service. We chanted the Unity Psalms CXXII, CXXIII, CXXIV, and\nCL, heartily, all joining to a dear old double chant in parts. I felt\nmy heart very full as I spoke to them of the blessedness of prayer\nand spiritual communion. I was at Tamaki in the morning, where I read\nprayers, the Archdeacon preaching. A little stone church, very rude\nand simple, but singing again good, and congregation of fifty-one,\nattentive. At Panmure, about three miles off, in the afternoon, a tiny\nwooden church--where Abraham took all the duty. In the evening, in the\nchapel, he read prayers, and I preached to about thirty-five or forty\npeople. We left the chapel just as you were getting ready for breakfast,\nand so passed my first Sunday in New Zealand. To-day I have had hard\nwork; I walked with Abraham to Auckland--six miles of rough work, I\npromise you, except the two last.\n\nI believe it was in the course of this walk that Patteson experimented\non his Maori, a native whom they visited, and who presently turned upon\nthe Archdeacon, and demanded, 'Why do you not speak like Te Pattihana?'\nSuch a compliment has seldom been paid on so early an attempt at\ncolloquialism in a new language. Journal continues:--\n\n'Lugged down boxes, big empty ones, from the Judge's house to the beach.\nWent with the Bishop to the old ship, packed up books, brought away\nall our things almost, helped to pack them in a cart and drag, and then\nwalked back to the College, which I reached in the dark at 7.30. It is\ndelightful to see the delight of the natives when they see the Bishop.\n\"E--h te Pikopa!\" and then they all come round him like children,\nlaughing and talking. Two common men we met on Friday from Rotoma, 150\nmiles off, who said that their tribe had heard that the Queen of England\nhad taken away his salary, and they had been having subscriptions for\nhim every Sunday. They are of various shades of colour, some light\nbrown, some nearly black, and some so tattooed all over that you can't\ntell what colour they are. I was talking to-day to the best of my power\nwith a native teacher upon whose face I could not see one spot as big as\na shilling that was not tattooed, beautifully done in a regular pattern,\none side corresponding to the other. Each tribe, as it is said (I\nknow not how truly), has a pattern of its own; so they wear their\ncoats-of-arms on their faces, that is all. The young Christian natives\nare not tattooed at all, and I have been to-day with Sydney, whose\nfather was the great fighting man of Honghi (miscalled Shanghi) who was\npresented to George IV. This young man's father helped to exterminate a\nwhole tribe who lived on a part of the College property (as it is now),\nand he is said to be perhaps the first New Zealander who was baptized\nas an infant. I find it hard to understand them; they speak very\nindistinctly--not fast, but their voices are thick in general. I hope to\nlearn a good deal before October. My first letter from the ends of the\nworld tells of my peace of mind, of one sound and hearty in body, and, I\nthank God, happy, calm, and cheerful in spirit.'\n\n\n'July 11, 1855; St. John's College, Auckland.\n\n'My dear Fan,--I do not doubt that I am where I ought to be; I do think\nand trust that God has given me this work to do; but I need earnest\nprayers for strength that I may do it. It is no light work to be\nsuddenly transplanted from a quiet little country district, where every\none knew me, and the prestige of dear Father's life and your active\nusefulness among the people made everything smooth for me, to a work\nexceeding in magnitude anything that falls to the lot of an ordinary\nparish priest in England--in a strange land, among a strange race\nof men, in a newly forming and worldly society, with no old familiar\nnotions and customs to keep the machine moving; and then to be made\nacquainted with such a mass of information respecting Church government\nand discipline, educational schemes, conduct of clergy and teachers,\netc., etc. It is well that I am hearty and sound in health, or I should\nbe regularly overwhelmed with it. Two texts I think of constantly:\n\"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.\" \"Sufficient\nfor the day,\" etc. I hardly dare look forward to what my work may be on\nearth; I cannot see my way; but I feel sure that He is ordering it all,\nand I try to look on beyond the earth, when at length, by God's mercy,\nwe may all find rest.\n\n'That I have been so well in body and so cheerful in mind ever since I\nleft home--I mean cheerful on the whole, not without seasons of sadness,\nbut so mercifully strengthened at all times--must, I think, without\nany foolish enthusiasm, be remembered by me as a special act of God's\ngoodness and mercy. I was not the least weary of the sea. Another month\nor two would have made very little difference to me, I think. I am very\nfond of it, and I think of my voyages to come without any degree\nof dread from that cause, and I have no reason to expect any great\ndiscomfort from any other. I have my whole stock of lemon syrup and\nlime juice, so that the salt meat on the \"Southern Cross\" will be\ncounteracted in that way; and going round those islands we shall be\nashore every few days. But what most surprises me is this: that when\nI am alone, as here at night in a great (for it is large) cheerless,\nlonely room, as I should have thought it once; though I can't help\nthinking of my own comforts at home, and all dear faces around me,\nthough I feel my whole heart swelling with love to you all, still I am\nnot at all sad or gloomy, or cast down. This does surprise me: I did not\nthink it would or could be so. I have indeed prayed for it, but I had\nnot faith to believe that my prayer would be so granted. The fact\nitself is most certain. I have at Alfington, when alone of an evening,\nexperienced a greater sense of loneliness than I have once done out\nhere. Of this hitherto I feel no doubt: it may be otherwise any day of\ncourse; and to what else can I attribute this fact, in all soberness of\nmind, but to the mercy of God in strengthening me for my work? Much of\nit may be the effect of a splendid climate upon my physique, that is\ntrue; for indeed to find flowers in full blossom, green meadows, hot\nsuns, birds singing, etc., in midwinter, with a cool, steady breeze from\nthe sea invigorating me all the while, is no doubt just what I require;\nbut to-day we have a north-easter, which answers to your south-west\nwind, with pouring rain, and yet my spirits are not going down with the\nbarometer. All the same, the said barometer will probably soon recover\nhimself; for I believe these heavy storms seldom last long. There is\nno fire in the room where I sit, which is the Bishop's room when he is\nhere; no fire-place indeed, as it opens into Mrs. Selwyn's room. The\nthermometer is 58\u00b0, and it is midwinter.'\n\n\nTo Miss Neill, on the same day, after repeating his conviction that he\nwas in the right place, he says:--\n\n\n'I have written to them at home what I ought not perhaps to have said of\nmyself, but that it will give them comfort--that from all sides my\nbeing here as the Bishop's companion is hailed as likely to produce very\nbeneficial results. But I must assure you that I fully know how your\nlove for me and much too high opinion of me makes you fancy that I could\nbe of use at home. But we must not, even taking this view, send our\nrefuse men to the colonies. Newly forming societies must be moulded by\nmen of energy, and power, and high character; in fact, churches must be\norganised, the Gospel must be preached by men of earnest zeal for God's\nglory in the salvation of souls. To lower the standard of Christian life\nby exhibiting a feeble faint glimmering instead of a burning shining\nlight is to stamp upon the native mind a false impression, it may be for\never.\n\n'Remember, we have no ancient customs nor time-hallowed usages to make\nup for personal indifference and apathy; we have no momentum to carry on\nthe machine. We have to start it, and give it the first impulse, under\nthe guidance of the Spirit of God; and oh! if it takes a wrong direction\nat first, who can calculate the evil that must follow? It is easy to\nsteer a vessel in smooth water, with a fair breeze; but how are you to\nkeep her head straight in a rolling sea with no way on her?'\n\n\nThis letter, with two or three more, went by the first mail after\nhis arrival. From that time he generally kept a journal-letter, and\naddressed it to one or other of his innermost home circle; while the\narrival of each post from home produced a whole sheaf of answers, and\ncomments on what was told, by each correspondent, of family, political\nor Church matters. Sometimes the letter is so full of the subject of\nimmediate interest as absolutely to leave no room for personal details\nof his own actual life, and this became more the case as the residence\nin New Zealand or Norfolk Island lost its novelty, while it never\nabsorbed him so as to narrow his interests. He never missed a mail\nin writing to his father and sisters, and a letter to his brother was\nequally regular, but these latter were generally too much concerned with\nJames's own individual life to be as fully given as the other letters,\nwhich were in fact a diary of facts, thoughts, and impressions.\n\n\n'July 12, St. Stephen's, Mr. Kissling's School-house.--You know I am to\nlive here when not on the \"Southern Cross,\" or journeying in the Bush;\nso I must describe, first, the place itself, then my room in it. The\nhouse is a large one-storied building of wood, no staircase in it, but\nonly a succession of rooms.... There are at present fourteen or sixteen\ngirls in the school, boarding here, besides Rota, who is a native\ndeacon, spending a month here; Levi, who is preparing for ordination,\nand three other men. The house stands on table-land about four hundred\nyards from the sea, commanding glorious views of the harbour, sea, and\nislands, which form groups close round the coast. It is Church property\nall round, and the site of a future cathedral is within a stone's throw\nof it.... Now for my room. Plenty large enough to begin with, not less\nthan sixteen feet long by twelve wide, and at least eleven high, all\nwood, not papered or painted, which I like much, as the kauri is a\ndarkish grained wood; no carpet of course, but I am writing now at 10\nP.M., with no fire, and quite warm. The east side of the room is one\ngreat window, latticed, in a wooden frame; outside it a verandah, and\nsuch a beautiful view of the harbour and bay beyond. I will tell you\nexactly what I have done to-day since two o'clock, as a sample of my\nlife.\n\n'2 P.M., dinner, roast mutton; my seat between the Bishop and Eota.\nFancy the long table with its double row of Maoris. After dinner, away\nwith the Bishop to the hospital, a plain wooden building a mile off,\ncapable of taking in about forty patients in all. I am to visit it\nregularly when here, taking that work off the parish clergyman's\nshoulders, and a great comfort it will be. I went through it to-day,\nand had a long talk with the physician and surgeon, and saw the male\npatients, two of them natives. One of them is dying, and so I am to be\nnow talking as well as I can, but at all events reading and praying,\nwith this poor fellow, and a great happiness it is to have such a\nprivilege and so on. Came back to tea, very pleasant. After tea made\nEota, and Sydney, a young-man who knows English pretty well, sit in my\nroom (N.B., there is but one chair, in which I placed Eota), and then\nI made them read Maori to me, and read a good deal myself, and then we\ntalked as well as we could. At 6.15, prayers, the whole party of Maoris\nassembled. Mr. Kissling read the first verse of the chapter (Joshua\nvi.), and we each read one verse in turn, and then he questioned them\nfor perhaps fifteen minutes. They were very intelligent and answered\nwell, and it was striking to see grown-up men and young women sitting so\npatiently to be taught. Then the evening service prayers; and so I knelt\nwith these good simple people and prayed with them for the first time.\nVery much I enjoyed all this. Soon after came supper, a little talking,\nand now here am I writing to you.\n\n'I wish you could see the tree-ferns; some are quite twenty feet high in\nthe trunk, for trunk it is, and the great broad frond waves over it in\na way that would make that child Pena clap her hands with delight. Then\nthe geraniums and roses in blossom, the yellow mimosa flower, the wild\nmoncha, with a white flower, growing everywhere, and the great variety\nof evergreen trees (none that I have seen being deciduous) make the\ncountry very pretty. The great bare volcanic hills, each with its\nwell-defined crater, stand up from among the woodlands, and now from\namong pastures grazing hundreds of oxen; and this, with the grand sea\nviews, and shipping in the harbour, make a very fine sight.\n\n'July 14.--I write to-night because you will like a line from me on the\nday when first I have in any way ministered to a native of the country.\nI was in the hospital to-day, talked a little, and read St. Luke xv. to\none, and prayed with another Maori. The latter is dying. He was baptized\nby the Wesleyans, but is not visited by them, so I do not scruple to go\nto him. Rota, the native deacon, was with me, and he talked a long\nwhile with the poor fellow. It is a great comfort to me to have made a\nbeginning. I did little more than read a few prayers from the Visitation\nService, but the man understood me well, so I may be of use, I hope. He\nhas never received the Lord's Supper; but if there is time to prepare\nhim, the Bishop wishes me to administer it to him.\n\n'July 20.--Yesterday in sailed the \"Southern Cross\" with not a spar\ncarried away or sail lost, perfectly sound, and in a fit state to be off\nagain at once. She left England on the same day that we did, and arrived\njust a fortnight after us, and this is attributable to her having kept\nin low latitudes, not going higher than 39\u00b0; whereas we were in 51\u00b0\n30', which diminished the distance and brought us in the way of more\nfavourable winds. I saw from my windows about 9 A.M. a schooner in the\ndistance, and told the Bishop I thought it might be the \"Southern Cross\"\n(she has no figure-head and a very straight bow). Through the day, which\nwas very rainy, we kept looking from time to time through our glasses.\nAt 3 P.M. the Bishop came in: \"Come along, Coley; I do believe it is the\n'Southern Cross.'\" So I hurried on waterproofs, knowing that we were\nin for some mudlarking. Off we went, lugged down a borrowed boat to the\nwater, tide being out. I took one oar, a Maori another, and off we went,\nBishop steering. After twenty minutes' pull, or thereabouts, we met her,\njumped on board, and then such a broadside of questions and answers.\nThey had a capital passage. Two men who were invalided when they started\ndied on the voyage--one of dysentery, I think--all the rest flourishing,\nthe three women respectable and tidy-looking individuals, and two\nchildren very well. After a while the Bishop and I went off to shore, in\none of his boats, pulled by two of the crew, Lowestoft fishermen, fine\nyoung fellows as you ever saw. Then we bought fresh meat, onions, bread,\netc., for them, and so home by 7 P.M. \"Mudlarking\" very slight on this\noccasion, only walking over the flat swamp of low-water marsh for a\nquarter of a mile; but on Tuesday we had a rich scene. Bishop and I went\nto the \"Duke of Portland\" and brought off the rest of our things; but\nit was low-water, so the boats could not come within a long way of the\nbeach, and the custom is for carts to go over the muddy sand, which is\ntolerably hard, as far into the water as they can, perhaps two and a\nhalf or three feet deep when it is quite calm, as it was on Tuesday.\nWell, in went our cart, which had come from the College, with three\nvaluable horses, while the Bishop and I stood on the edge of the water.\nPresently one of the horses lost his footing, and then all at once all\nthree slipped up, and the danger was of their struggling violently and\nhurting themselves. One of those in the shafts had his head under water,\ntoo, for a time. Instanter Bishop and I had our coats off, my trousers\nwere rolled over my knees, and in we rushed to the horses. Such a\nplunging and splashing! but they were all got up safe. This was about 4\nP.M., and I was busy about the packages and getting them into the carts,\nunloading at Mr. Kissling's till past 8; but I did not catch cold.\nImagine an English Bishop with attending parson cutting into the water\nup to their knees to disentangle their cart-horses from the harness in\nfull view of every person on the beach. \"This is your first lesson in\nmudlarking, Coley,\" was the remark of the Bishop as we laughed over our\nrespective appearance.\n\n'July 21.--I was finishing my sermon for the soldiers to-morrow at\n11.30, when Mr. Kissling came in to say that the schooner just come into\nthe harbour was the vessel which had been sent to bring Mr. and Mrs.\nNihill from Nengone or Mare Island. He was in very bad health when he\nwent there, and great doubts were entertained as to his coming back. I\nwas deputed to go and see. I ran a good part of the way to the town\non to the pier, and there heard that Mr. Nihill was dead. An old\nacquaintance of Mrs. Nihill was on the pier, so I thought I should be in\nthe way, and came back, told Mrs. Kissling, and went on to the Judge's,\nand told Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Selwyn. Whilst there we saw a boat land a\nyoung lady and child on the beach just below the house, and they sent\nme down. Pouring with rain here on the beach, taking shelter in a\nboat-house with her brother, I found this poor young widow; and so,\nleaning on my arm, she walked up to the house. I just waited to see\nMrs. Selwyn throw her arms round her neck, and then walked straight off,\nfeeling that the furious rain and wind chimed in with a violent struggle\nwhich was just going on in my own mind. I go through such scenes firmly\nenough at the time, but when my part is over I feel just like a child,\nand I found the tears in my eyes; for the universal sympathy which has\nbeen expressed by everyone here for the lonely situation of the Nihills\nat Nengone made me feel almost a personal interest in them. He was a\ngood linguist, and his loss will be severely felt by the Bishop.\n\n'August 14.--I marked out to-day some pretty places for the two wooden\nhouses for the \"Southern Cross\" sailors at Kohimarama (Focus of Light),\na quiet retired spot, with a beautiful sparkling beach, the schooner\nlying just outside the little bay a third of a mile off. Forty or fifty\nacres of flat pasturage, but only sixteen properly cleared, and then an\namphitheatre of low hills, covered with New Zealand vegetation. I\npassed fine ferns to-day quite thirty feet in the stem, with great\nspreading-fronds, like branches of the Norfolk Island pine almost.\n\n'On the 17th of August came the welcome mail from home. \"Oh what a\ndelight it is to see your dear handwriting again!\" is the cry in the\nreply. Father's I opened first, and read his letter, stopping often\nwith tears of thankfulness in my eyes to thank God for enabling him not\nto be over-anxious about me, and for the blessing of knowing that he was\nas well as usual, and also because his work, so distasteful to him, was\ndrawing to a close. Then I read Fan's, for I had a secret feeling that I\nshould hear most from her about Alfington.'\n\nOn the evening of that day he wrote to Fanny. In answer to the\nexpression of the pain, of separation, he says:--\n\n\n'There is One above who knows what a trial it is to you. For myself,\nhard as it is, and almost too hard sometimes, yet I have relief in the\nvariety and unceasing-multiplicity of my occupations. Not a moment of\nany day can I be said to be idle. Literally, I have not yet had a minute\nto untie my \"Guardians;\" but for you, with more time for meditating,\nwith no change of scene, with every object that meets you at home and in\nyour daily walks reminding you of me, it must indeed be such a trial as\nangels love to look upon when it is borne patiently, and with a perfect\nassurance that God is ordering all things for our good; and so let us\nstruggle on to the end. All good powers are on our side, and we shall\nmeet by the infinite mercy one day when there shall be no separation for\never.\n\n'I read on in your letter till I came to \"Dear Coley, it is very hard to\nlive without you,\"--and I broke down and cried like a child. I was quite\nalone out in the fields on a glorious bright day, and it was the relief\nI had longed for. The few simple words told me the whole story, and I\nprayed with my whole heart that you might find strength in the hour of\nsadness. Do (as you say you do) let your natural feelings work; do not\nforce yourself to appear calm, do not get excited if you can help it;\nbut if your mind is oppressed with the thought of my absence, do not try\nto drive it away by talking about something else, or taking up a book,\netc.; follow it out, see what it ends in, trace out the spiritual help\nand comfort which have already, it may be, resulted from it, the growth\nof dependence upon God above; meditate upon the real idea of separation,\nand think of Mamma and Uncle Frank.'\n\n\n'August 26, 1855, 10.40 P.M.: S. Stephen's, Auckland. 'My dear\nArthur,--I am tired with my Sunday work, which is heavy in a colony,\nbut I just begin my note on the anniversary of your dear, dear father's\ndeath. How vividly I remember all the circumstances of the last ten\ndays--the peaceful, holy, happy close of a pure and well-spent life! I\ndo so think of him, not a day passing without my mind dwelling on him; I\nlove to find myself calling up the image of his dear face, and my heart\nis very full when I recollect all his love for me, and the many, many\ntokens of affection which he used to pour out from his warm, generous,\nloving heart. I can hardly tell you what an indescribable comfort it is\nto me now I think of these things, cut off from the society and sympathy\nof friends and the associations of home; the memory is very active in\nrecalling such scenes, and I almost live in them again. I have very\nlittle time for indulging in fancies of any kind now; I begin to get\nan idea of what work is; but in my walks or at night (if I am awake),\nI think of dear Mamma and your dear father, and others who are gone\nbefore, with unmixed joy and comfort. You may be quite sure that I am\nnot likely to forget anybody or anything connected with home. How I do\nwatch and follow them through the hours of the day or night when we are\nboth awake and at our work! I turn out at 6.45, and think of them at\ndinner or tea; at 10, I think of them at evening prayers; and by my\nown bed-time they are in morning church or busied about their different\noccupations, and I fancy I can almost see them.\n\n'So it goes on, and still I am calm and happy and very well; and I think\nI am in my place and hope to be made of some use some day. I like the\nnatives in this school very much. The regular wild untamed fellow is\nnot so pleasant at first--dirty, unclothed, always smoking, a mass of\nblankets, his wigwam sort of place filthy; his food ditto; but then he\nis probably intelligent, hospitable, and not insensible to the advantage\nof hearing about religion. It only wants a little practice to overcome\none's English feelings about dress, civilisation, etc., and that will\nsoon come.\n\n'But here the men are nice fellows, and the women and girls make capital\nservants; and so whereas many of the clergy and gentry do not keep a\nservant (wages being enormous), and ladies like your sisters and mine\ndo the whole work of the housemaid, nursery-maid, and cook (which I have\nseen and chatted about with them), I, on the contrary, by Miss Maria (a\nwondrous curly-headed, black-eyed Maori damsel, arrayed in a \"smock,\"\nweiter nichts), have my room swept, bed made, tub--yes, even in New\nZealand--daily filled and emptied, and indeed all the establishment will\ndo anything for me. I did not care about it, as I did all for myself\naboard ship; but still I take it with a very good grace.\n\n'In about six weeks I expect we shall sail all round the English\nsettlement of New Zealand, and go to Chatham Island. This will occupy\nabout three months, and the voyage will be about 4,000 miles. Then we\nstart at once, upon our return, for four months in the Bush, among\nthe native villages, on foot. Then, once again taking ship, away for\nMelanesia. So that, once off, I shall be roving about for nearly a year,\nand shall, if all goes well, begin the really missionary life.\n\n'It is late, and the post goes to morrow. Good-bye, my dear Arthur;\nwrite when you can.\n\n'Ever your affectionate\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\n'August 27.--I have just been interrupted by Mrs. Kissling, who came\nto ask me to baptize privately the young son of poor Eota, the native\ndeacon, and his wife Terena. Poor fellow! This child was born two or\nthree days after he left this place for Taranaki with the Bishop, so\nhe has not seen his son as yet. He has one boy about four, and has lost\nthree or four others; and now this little one, about three weeks old,\nseems to be dying. I was almost glad that the first time I baptized a\nnative child, using the native language, should be on Fan's birthday.\nIt was striking to see the unaffected sympathy of the natives here. The\npoor mother came with the child in her arms to the large room. A table\nwith a white cloth in the centre, and nearly the whole establishment\nassembled. I doubt if you would have seen in England grown-up men and\nwomen more thoroughly in earnest. It was the most comforting private\nbaptism I ever witnessed.\n\n'Henri has been for an hour or more this morning asking me questions\nwhich you would seldom hear from farmers or tradesmen at home, showing a\nreal acquaintance with the Bible, and such a desire, hunger and thirst,\nfor knowledge. What was the manna in the wilderness? he began. He\nthought it was food that angels actually lived upon, and quoted the\nverse in the Psalm readily, \"So man did eat angel's food.\" So I took\nhim into the whole question of the spiritual body; the various passages,\n\"meats for the belly,\" etc., our Lord's answer to the Sadducees, and so\non to 1 Cor. xv. Very interesting to watch the earnestness of the man\nand his real pleasure in assenting to the general conclusion expressed\nin 1 John iii. 2 concerning our ignorance of what we shall be, not\nimplying want of power on God's part to explain, but His divine will in\nnot withdrawing the veil wholly from so great a mystery. \"E marama ana,\"\n(I see it clearly now): \"He mea ngaro!\" (a mystery). His mind had wholly\npassed from the carnal material view of life in heaven, and the idea\nof food for the support of the spiritual body, and the capacity for\nreceiving the higher truths (as it were) of Christianity showed itself\nmore clearly in the young New Zealander than you would find perhaps\nin the whole extent of a country parish. I think that when I know\nthe language well enough to catechize freely, it will be far more\ninteresting, and I shall have a far more intelligent set of catechumens,\nthan in England. They seem especially fond of it, ask questions\nconstantly, and will get to the bottom of the thing, and when the\ncatechist is up to the mark and quick and wily in both question and\nillustration, they get so eager and animated, all answering together,\nquoting texts, etc. I think that their knowledge of the Bible is in some\nsense attributable to its being almost the only book printed that they\ncare much about.'\n\nThe 11th of September produced another long letter full of home feeling,\ndrawn forth in response to his sister. Here are some extracts:--\n\n\n'Sometimes I cannot help wishing that I could say all this, but not\noften. There is One who understands, and in really great trials even, it\nis well to lean only on Him. But I must write freely. You will not think\nme moody and downhearted, because I show you that I do miss you,\nand often feel lonely and shut up in myself. This is exactly what I\nexperience, and I think if I was ill, as you often are, I should break\ndown under it; but God is very merciful to me in keeping me in very good\nhealth, so that I am always actively engaged every day, and when night\ncomes I am weary in body, and sleep sound almost always, so that the\ntime passes very rapidly indeed, and I am living in a kind of dream,\nhardly realizing the fact of my being at half the world's distance from\nyou, but borne on from day to day, I scarcely know how. Indeed, when\nI do look back upon the past six months, I have abundant cause to be\nthankful. I never perhaps shall know fully how it is, but somehow, as a\nmatter of fact, I am on the whole cheerful, and always busy and calm in\nmind. I don't have tumultuous bursts of feeling and overwhelming floods\nof recollection that sweep right away all composure. Your first letters\nupset me more than once as I re-read them, but I think of you all\nhabitually with real joy and peace of mind. And I am really happy, not\nin the sense that happiness presents itself always, or exactly in the\nway that I used to feel it when with you all, or as I should feel it if\nI were walking up to the lodge with my whole heart swelling within me.\nIt is much more quiet and subdued, and does not perhaps come and go\nquite as much; but yet in the midst of all, I half doubt sometimes\nwhether everything about and within me is real. I just move on like a\nman in a dream, but this again does not make me idle. I don't suppose I\never worked harder, on the whole, than I do now, and I have much anxious\nwork at the Hospital. Such cases, Fan! Only two hours ago, I left a\npoor sailor, by whose side I had been kneeling near three-quarters of an\nhour, holding his sinking head and moistening his mouth with wine, the\ndews of death on his forehead, and his poor emaciated frame heaving like\none great pulse at each breath. For four days that he has been there\n(brought in a dying state from the Merchantman) I have been with him,\nand yesterday I administered to him the Holy Communion. He had spoken\nearnestly of his real desire to testify the sincerity of his repentance\nand faith and love. I have been there daily for nine days, but I cannot\nalways manage it, as it is nearly two miles off. The responsibility is\ngreat of dealing with such cases, but I trust that God will pardon\nall my sad mistakes. I cannot withhold the Bread of Life when I see\nindications of real sorrow for sin, and the simple readiness to obey the\ncommand of Christ, even though there is great ignorance and but little\ntime to train a soul for heaven. I cannot, as you may suppose, prepare\nfor my Sunday work as I ought to do, from want of time. Last Sunday\nI had three whole services, besides reading the Communion Service\nand preaching at 11 A.M., and reading Prayers at 5 P.M. I should have\npreached five times but that I left my sermon at Mr. T.'s, thinking to\ngo back for it.... Mrs. K. gave me an old \"Woolmer\" the other day, which\ngladdened my eyes. Little bits of comfort come in, you see, in these\nways. Nothing can be kinder than the people here, I mean in Auckland and\nits neighbourhood--real, simple, hearty kindness. Perhaps the work at\nKohimarama is most irksome to me. It is no joke to keep sailors in good\nhumour ashore, and I fear that our presence on board was much needed\nduring the passage out.'\n\nWith reference to his sister's reading, he continues:--'Take care of\nMaurice, Fan; I do not think it too much to say that he is simply and\nplainly \"unsound\" on the doctrine of the Atonement; I don't charge him\nwith heresy from his stand-point, but remember that you have not been\nbrought into contact with Quakers, Socinians, &c., and that he may\nconceive of a way of reconciling metaphysically difficulties which a\nfar inferior but less inquisitive and vorsehender geist pronounces\nfor itself simply contrary to the word of God. There are two Greek\nprepositions which contain the gist of the whole matter, huper, in\nbehalf of, and anti, instead of, in the place of. Maurice's doctrine\ngoes far to do away with the truth of the last, as applied to the\nSacrifice of Christ. I have an exceedingly high regard for him, and\nrespect for his goodness no less than his ability. His position\nhas exposed him to very great difficulties, and therefore, if he is\ndecidedly wrong, it is not for us to judge him. Read his \"Kingdom of\nChrist,\" and his early books; but he is on very slippery and dangerous\nground now. It is indeed a great and noble task to propose to oneself,\nviz.--to teach that God is our Father, and to expose the false and most\nunhappy idea that has at times prevailed of representing God as actuated\nby strong indignation, resentment, &c., against the human race, so that\nmen turned from Him as from some fearful avenging power. This is the\nworst form of Anthropomorphism, but this is not the Scriptural idea of a\njust God. We cannot, perhaps, conceive of absolute justice; certainly we\nare no judges of God's own revealed scheme of reconciling Justice with\nLaw, and so I call Maurice's, to a certain extent, human teaching, more\nphilosophy than religion, more metaphysics than revelation.'\n\nOn the 22nd the Ordination took place, and the second Maori deacon was\nordained, Levi (or according to Maori pronunciation, Eivata) Ahea, a man\nof about thirty-eight, whose character had long been tested. Immediately\nafter, the Bishop, Mrs. Selwyn, Mr. Patteson, and the new deacon, set\nforth on a coasting expedition in the new vessel.\n\nThe language of the journal becomes nautical, and strong in praise of\nthe conduct of the little ship, which took the party first to Nelson,\nwhere Sunday, the 7th of October, was spent, the Bishop going ashore\nwhile Patteson held a service for the sailors on board, first going\nround to the vessels anchored in the harbour to invite the men's\nattendance, but without much success. On the 10th he wrote:--\n\n'Already I feel to a certain extent naturalized. I do not think I should\ndespair of qualifying myself in three months for the charge of a native\nparish. I don't mean that I know the niceties of the language so as to\nspeak it always correctly, but I should be able to communicate with\nthem on ordinary subjects, and to preach and catechize. But, after all,\nMelanesia is becoming more and more a substantial reality.'\n\nThe history of Bishop Selwyn's visitation hardly belongs to Patteson's\nlife; but after one Sunday morning's ministration at Queen Charlotte's\nSound, Patteson was thus entreated: 'At 2.30 I was on shore again, and\nsoon surrounded by some thirty or forty natives, with whom I talked a\nlong while about the prospect of a clergyman being settled among them.\n\"We want you! You speak so plainly, we can understand you!\"\n\n'\"No, I am going to the islands, to the blacks there.\" (N.B. The Maoris\nspeak of the Blacks with a little touch of contempt.)\n\n'\"You are wanted here! Never mind the blacks!\"\n\n'\"Ought not the Gospel to be preached to them, too? They have no\nteacher. Is it not right they should be taught as you have been?\"\n\n'\"Ke rae tika ana. Yes, yes, that is right!\"'\n\nThe settlements, then new, of Canterbury and Dunedin were visited, and\nthen, the Bishop remaining on shore on other work, the 'Southern Cross'\nstarted for the Chatham Isles, gaining high commendation for all the\ngood qualities of which a schooner could be supposed capable.\n\n'It was pretty to see the little, vessel running away from the great\nbroad-backed rollers which rolled over the shore far above. Every now\nand then she shipped a sea, and once her deck was quite full of water,\nup to the gunwale nearly.' And as for her future skipper, he says, 'I\nhad plenty of work at navigation. It really is very puzzling at first;\nso much to remember--currents, compass, variation, sun's declination,\nequation of time, lee way, &c. But I think I have done my work pretty\nwell up to now, and of course it is a great pleasure as well as a\nconsiderable advantage to be able to give out the true and magnetic\ncourse of the ship, and to be able from day to day to give out her\nposition.'\n\nThe Chatham Islands are dependencies of New Zealand, inhabited by\nMaoris, and as it has fallen to the lot of few to visit them, here is\nthis extract concerning them:--\n\n'I buried a man there, a retired sea captain who had spent some twenty\nyears of his life in China, and his widow was a Chinese woman, a little\ndot of a thing, rather nice-looking. She spoke a little English and\nmore Maori. We walked through the Pa to the burial-ground, some twenty\nnatives all dressed in black, i.e. something black about them, and many\nin a good suit, attending the funeral. Levi had spent the day before\n(Sunday) with them and had told them about me. As I approached the\nPa before the funeral they all raised the native cry of welcome, the\n\"Tangi.\" I advanced, speaking to them collectively, and then went\nthrough the ceremony of shaking hands with each one in order as they\nstood in a row, saying something, if I could think of it, to each. After\nthe funeral they all (according to native custom) sat down in the open\nair, round a large cloth on the ground, on which were spread tins of\npotatoes, fish, pork, &c. The leader came to me and said, \"This is the\nMaori fashion. Come, my friend, and sit with us,\" and deposited three\nbottles of beer at my feet, while provisions enough for Dan Lambert were\nstored around--a sort of Homeric way of honouring me, and perhaps they\nmade a Benjamin of me. However, I had already eaten a mouldy biscuit and\nhad a glass of beer at the house of the Chinawoman, so I only said grace\nfor them, and after talking a little while, I shook hands all round and\nwent off. Their hands, being used as knives and forks, were not a little\ngreasy; but of course one does not think of that.\n\nAs I passed the end of the Pa I heard a cry, and saw a very old man with\na perfectly white beard, too old to come to the feast, who had crawled\nout of his hut to see me. He had nothing on but a blanket, and I was\nsorry I had not known of his being there, that I might have gone to the\nold gentleman, so we talked and shook hands, and I set off for my eight\nmiles walk back. The whole island is one vast peat field, in many places\nbelow in a state of ignition; then the earth crumbles away below and\npits are formed, rank with vegetation, splendid soil for potatoes.'\n\nChristmas-day was spent at Wellington, in services on shore, the\nChristmas dinner eaten on board, but the evening spent at the Governor's\nin blind man's buff and other games with the children, then evening\nprayers on board for the crew. The stay at Wellington was altogether\nenjoyable, and it ended by Mr. Patteson taking the command of the\nvessel, and returning with Mrs. Selwyn to Auckland, while the Bishop\npursued his journey by land, no small proof of the confidence inspired\nby so recent a mariner. He was sorry to lose the sight of the further\nvisitation, and in his New Year's letter of 1856, written soon after\nreceiving a budget from home, there is one little touch of home\nsickness:--\n\n'Really it is a fine land, with wonderful facilities for large\nmanufacturing, commercial, and agricultural interests; worth visiting,\ntoo, merely for the scenery, but somehow enjoying scenery depends a\ngood deal upon having one's own friends to enjoy it with. One thing I\ndo enjoy thoroughly, and that is the splendid sunsets. I don't remember\nanywhere to have seen such fine soft golden sunsets; and they are\nnot wanting in variety, for occasionally he goes to bed among red and\ncrimson and purple clouds, with wild scuds flying above, which suggest\nto me the propriety of turning up my bed and looking out for a good roll\nin the night. But there is certainly a peculiar transparency in the air\nwhich makes the distances look distant indeed.'\n\nThis trip, so cheerfully described, was rather a pull on the frame which\nhad yet to become seasoned to the heat of the southern midsummer, and\nthere was a languor about the outward man, the last remnant of the\noriginal sluggishness, which, if ever a doubt arose of the fitness\nof the instrument for the work, awoke it during the voyage. There was\ndepression likewise, in part, no doubt, from the spending the first\nChristmas away from home and friends, and partly from a secret\ndisappointment at the arrangement which made him for a time\nacting-master, not to say steward, of the ship, so that he had to live\non board of her, and make himself useful on Sundays, according to need,\nin the churches on shore, a desultory life very trying to him, but\nwhich he bore with his usual quiet determination to do obediently and\nfaithfully the duty laid on him, without picking or choosing.\n\nThe journal-letters continue on the 17th of January: 'Wrote a Maori\nsermon this morning, not feeling able yet to preach extempore in the\nnative language, though it is much better to do so as soon as I can. Now\nI must stick to the vessel again. I have been quite frisky, really, for\ntwo days past, and have actually slept on shore, the fourth time since\nSeptember 24. The sensation is exceedingly pleasant of firm ground\nunderneath and clean water, a basin, &c., to wash in. And yet I almost\nlike coming back to my ship home: it is really very comfortable, and you\nknow I always liked being a good deal alone. I am reading, for lightish\nreading, the first part of the third volume of Neander's Church History,\nwhich is all about Missions. It is the fifth volume in the way his works\nare usually bound up, and came out in this box the other day. It is very\ninteresting, especially to me now, and it is curious to observe how\nmuch the great men insisted upon the necessity of attending to the more\nsecular part of missionary work,--agriculture, fishing, and other means\nof humanizing the social condition of the heathen among whom they lived.\nColumbanus and Boniface, and his pupil Gregory, and others (all the\nGerman Missionaries, almost) just went on the plan the Bishop wants to\nwork out here.\n\n'2. P.M. I am off to Otaki to see my native parishioners. What different\nwork from calling in at S. W.'s and other good Alfingtonians! The walk\nwill be pleasant, especially as I have been grinding away at navigation\nall the morning. My stupid head gets puzzled at that kind of work; and\nyet it is very good for me, just because it requires accuracy.\n\n'29th. Just as I am beginning to get some hold of the Maori, so as to\nmake real use of it, the Island languages are beginning to come into\nwork. I have a curious collection here now--some given by the Judge, who\nis a great philologist, others belonging to the Bishop--a MS. grammar\nhere, one chapter of St. Mark in another language, four Gospels in\na third, a few chapters of Kings with the Lord's Prayer in a fourth,\nbesides Marsden's Malay grammar and lexicon. Mrs. Nihill has given me\nsome few sheets of the Nengone language, and also lent me her husband's\nMS. grammar. One letter, written (--);, but pronounced a sort of rg in the\nthroat, yet not like an ordinary guttural, she declares took two\nyears to learn. You may fancy I have enough to do, and then all my\nhousekeeping affairs take up a deal of time, for I not only have to\norder things, but to weigh them out, help to cut out and weigh the meat,\n&c., and am quite learned in the mysteries of the store-room, which to\nbe sure is a curious place on board ship. I hope you are well suited\nwith a housekeeper: if I were at home I could fearlessly advertise\nfor such a situation. I have passed through the preliminary steps of\nhousemaid and scullerymaid, and now, having taken to serving out stores,\nam quite qualified for the post, especially after my last performance of\nmaking bread, and even a cake.'\n\nThis seems to be the right place for the description which the wife of\nChief Justice Martin gives of Mr. Patteson at this period. The first\nmeeting, she says, 'was the beginning of an intimate friendship, which\nhas been one of the great blessings of our lives. After a short stay\nat St. John's College, he came into residence at St. Stephen's native\ninstitution, of which Archdeacon Kissling was then the Principal. He\nlearned rapidly to read and speak Maori, and won all hearts there by his\ngentle unassuming manners. My husband was at that time a great invalid,\nand as our dear friend was living within five minutes' walk of our house\nhe came in whenever he had a spare half-hour. He used to bring Archer\nButler's sermons to read with us, and I well remember the pleasant\ntalks that ensued. The two minds were drawn together by common tasks and\nhabits of thought. Both had great facility in acquiring languages, and\ninterest in all questions of philology. Both were also readers of German\nwriters on Church history and of critical interpretation of the New\nTestament, and I think it was a help to the younger man to be able to\ndiscuss these and kindred subjects with an older and more trained mind.\nI had heard much of our dear friend before he arrived, and I remember\nfeeling a little disappointed at first, though much drawn to him by his\ngentle affectionate thoughtfulness and goodness. He said little about\nhis future work. He had come obedient to the call and was quietly\nwaiting to do whatever should be set him to do. As my husband a few\nmonths later told Sir John Patteson, there was no sudden flame of\nenthusiasm which would die down, but a steady fire which would go on\nburning. To me he talked much of his home. He used to walk beside my\npony, and tell me about \"his dear father\"--how lovingly his voice used\nto linger over those words!--of the struggle it had been to leave him,\nof the dreariness of the day of embarkation. Years after he could hardly\nbear to recall it to mind. I remember his bright look the first day it\nbecame certain that we must visit England. \"Why, then you will see my\ndear father, and tell him all about me!\" I knew all his people quite\nwell before, and when I went to visit his little parish of Alfington I\nseemed to recognise each cottage and its humble inmates, so faithfully\nhad he described his old people and haunts.\n\n'One thing that specially impressed me was his reverent appreciation of\nthe good he had gained from older friends. He certainly had not imbibed\nany of the indifference to the opinion of elders ascribed to the youth\nof this generation. \"Dear old tutor,\" his uncles, Sir John Coleridge and\nDr. Coleridge, to whom he looked up with almost filial reverence, the\nbeloved Uncle Frank, whose holy life and death he dwelt on with a sort\nof awe, how gratefully and humbly he spoke of the help he had got\nfrom them! He was full of enthusiasm about music, painting, and art in\ngeneral. He would flow on to willing listeners of Mendelssohn and other\ngreat composers, and when he found that we hoped to visit Italy he was\njust as eager about pictures. He owned that both at Dresden and at Rome\nhe had weakened his eyes by constant study of his favourite masters.\n\n'Altogether he gave me the impression of having had a very happy youth\nand having enjoyed it thoroughly. His Eton and Oxford life, the society\nof men of thought at his father's house, home interests, foreign travel,\nart, happy days with his brother Jem in the Tyrol, were all entertained\nas pleasant memories, and yet he was able without conscious effort or\nstruggle to put them all aside for his work's sake.\n\n'The Bishop kindly gave us a passage to Wellington in the \"Southern\nCross,\" and Mr. Patteson went with us in charge of the vessel. We were\nfive days at sea. I used to lie on the deck, and watch with amused\ninterest the struggle going on between his student habits and his\npractical duties, which were peculiarly distasteful to him. He was\nnever quite well at sea, but was headachy and uncomfortable. He was\nscrupulously neat and clean, and the dirt and stiffness displeased\nhim--how much we never knew, till he spoke out one day when very ill\nat our house in 1870. He was not apt at teaching, but he used\nconscientiously to hear a young lad spell and read daily. He would come\nup with some book of thought in his hand, and seemed buried in it, till\nhe suddenly would remember he ought to be directing or overlooking in\nsome way. This would happen half a dozen times in an afternoon.\n\n'He shrank at this time from finding fault. It was a positive distress\nto him. At Wellington we parted. He seemed a little depressed, I\nremember, as to what use he would be. I said: \"Why, you will be the son\nTimothy! This was after some years of partially failing health, when\nthese feelings had become habitual. I do not think they existed in\nhis earlier voyages so long waited for.\" His face brightened up at the\nthought. \"Yes, if I can release the Bishop of some of his anxieties,\nthat will be enough.\"'\n\nNo doubt he was depressed at parting with the Chief Justice and Mrs.\nMartin, who were thoroughly home-like friends, and whose return was then\nuncertain. His success as a sea-captain however encouraged him, and he\nwrote as follows on his return:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama: March 6, 1856.\n\n\"Southern Cross.\"\n\n'My dear Miss Neill,--How kind of you to write to me, and such a nice\nlong letter. It cost you a great effort, I am sure, and much pain, I\nfear; but I know it was a comfort to you that it was written, and\nindeed it was a great happiness to me to read it. Oh, these letters! The\nintense enjoyment of hearing about you all at home, I know no pleasure\nlike it now. Fond as I always was of reading letters and papers, the\nreal happiness of a mail from England now is quite beyond the conception\nof any but a wanderer in foreign parts. Our mail went out yesterday at 2\nP.M., rather unluckily for me, as I only returned from a very rapid and\nprosperous voyage to Wellington yesterday morning.\n\n'I took the Chief Justice and Mrs. Martin (such dear, excellent people)\nto Wellington to meet the \"Seringa-patam,\" homeward bound from that\nport; and I brought back from Wellington the Governor's sick wife and\nsuite. Only absent a fortnight for a voyage of 1,100 miles, including\nthree days' stay at Wellington. The coast of New Zealand is so\nuncertain, and the corners so many in coasting from Auckland to\nWellington, that the usual passage occupies seven or eight days; and\nwhen the \"Southern Cross\" appeared yesterday morning in harbour, I was\ntold by several of the officers and other residents that they feared we\nhad put back from foul weather, or because the Judge could not bear the\nmotion of the vessel. They scarcely thought we could actually have been\nto Wellington and returned.\n\n'Most thankful am I for such a fine passage, for I had two sets of\ninvalids, the Judge being only now (as we trust) recovering from\na severe illness, and Mrs. Martin very weakly; and I felt the\nresponsibility of having the charge of them very much. This was my\nsecond trip as \"Commodore,\" the Bishop still being on his land journey;\nbut we expect him in Auckland at the end of the month. As you may\nsuppose, I am getting on with my navigation, take sights, of course,\nand work out errors of watches, place of ship, &c.; it is pretty and\ninteresting work, and though you know well enough that I have no turn\nfor mathematics, yet this kind of thing is rendered so easy nowadays\nby the tables that are constructed for nautical purposes, that I do not\nthink I should feel afraid of navigating a ship at all. The \"seamanship\"\nis another thing, and that the master of the ship is responsible for....\nYou ask me, dear Miss Neill, where I am settled. Why, settled, I suppose\nI am never to be: I am a missionary, you know, not a \"stationary.\" But,\nhowever, my home is the \"Southern Cross,\" where I live always in harbour\nas well as at sea, highly compassionated by all my good friends here,\nfrom the Governor downwards, and highly contented myself with the sole\npossession of a cosy little cabin nicely furnished with table, lots of\nbooks, and my dear father's photograph, which is an invaluable treasure\nand comfort to me. In harbour I live in the cabin. It is hung round with\nbarometers (aneroids), sympie-someters, fixed chest for chronometers,\ncharts, &c. Of course, wherever the \"Southern Cross\" goes I go too, and\nI am a most complete skipper. I feel as natural with my quadrant in my\nhand as of old with a cricket bat. Then I do rather have good salt-water\nbaths, and see glorious sunsets and sunrises, and star-light nights, and\nthe great many-voiced ocean, the winds and waves chiming all night with\na solemn sound, lapping against my ear as I lie in my canvas bed, six\nfeet by two and a half, and fall sound asleep and dream of home. Oh!\nthere is much that is really enjoyable in this kind of life; and if the\ncares of the vessel, management of men, &c., do harass me sometimes, it\nis very good for me; security from such troubles having been anxiously\nand selfishly pursued by me at home.\n\n'If it please God to give success to our mission work, I may some day be\n\"settled\" (if I live) on some one of the countless islands of the South\nPacific, looking after a kind of Protestant Propaganda College for the\neducation of teachers and missionaries from among the islanders, but\nthis is all uncertain.\n\n'Now good-bye, my dear Miss Neill. I never doubt that in all your\nsufferings God does administer abundant sources of consolation to you.\nEven my life, so painless and easy, is teaching me that we judge of\nthese things by a relative standard only, and I can conceive of one duly\ntrained and prepared for heaven that many most blessed anticipations of\nfuture rest may be vouchsafed in the midst of extreme bodily pain. It is\nin fact a kind of martyrdom, and truly so when borne patiently for the\nlove of Christ.\n\n'Always, my dear Miss Neill,\n\n'Your very affectionate,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe Sundays were days of little rest. Clergy were too scarce for one\nwith no fixed cure not to be made available to the utmost, and the\nundeveloped state of the buildings and of all appliances of devotion\nfell heavily and coldly on one trained to beauty, both of architecture\nand music, though perhaps the variety of employment was the chief trial.\nHis Good Friday and Easter Sunday's journal show the sort of work that\ncame on him:--\n\n'Taurarua, Good Friday.--I am tired, for walking about in a hot sun,\nwith a Melanesian kit, as we call them, slung round the neck, with\nclothes and books, is really fatiguing. Yesterday and to-day are just\nsamples of colonial work. Thursday, 7.30, prayers in chapel; 10.30,\nCommunion service in chapel. Walked two miles to see a parishioner of\nthe Archdeacon's. 1.30, dinner; 2.30, walked to Taurarua, five and a\nhalf miles, in a burning sun; walked on to Mr. T.'s and back again,\nthree miles and a half more. 7, tea, wrote a sermon and went to bed.\nTo-day, service and sermon, for 600 soldiers at 9; Communion service\nand preached at 11. Back to Taurarua after three miles' walk, on to\nthe College, and read prayers at 7. Not much work, it is true, but\ndisjointed, and therefore more fatiguing. I do sometimes long almost for\nthe rest of English life, the quiet evening after the busy day; but I\nmust look on to a peaceful rest by and by; meanwhile work away, and to\nbe sure I have a grand example in the Bishop.\n\n'Easter Day.--I was at Tamaki chapel, a cold, bare, barn-like building\nof scoria, all this country being of volcanic origin. Fifty persons\npresent perhaps: two or three faint female voices, two or three rough\nmost discordant male voices, all the attempt at singing. No instrument\nof any kind. The burthen of trying to raise the tone of the whole\nservice to a really rejoicing thankful character wholly, I suppose,\nupon myself, and I so unequal to it. But the happy blessed services\nthemselves, they gradually absorbed the mind, and withdrew it from all\nrelative and comparative ideas of externals of worship. What a training\nit is here for the appreciation of the wondrous beauty of our Church\nservices, calming all feeling of excitement and irreverent passionate\nzeal, and enabling one to give full scope to the joy and glory of\none's heart, without, I hope, forgetting to rejoice with reverence and\nmoderation. Here, at Tamaki, you have nothing but the help the services\nthemselves give, and I suppose that is very good for one in reality,\nthough at the time it makes one feel as if something was wanting in the\nhearty sympathy and support of earnest fellow-worshippers. The College\nchapel nicely decorated.\n\n'1st Sunday after Easter: Taurarua.--I walked in from the College\nyesterday afternoon, took the soldiers' service at 9.15 A.M., Communion\nservice and sermon at St. Matthew's at 11, Hospital at 2.30. Preached at\nSt. Paul's at 6 P.M., reminding me of my Sunday's work when I was\nliving at St. Stephen's. It is a comfort to have a Sunday in Auckland\noccasionally--more like a Sunday, with a real church, and people\nresponding and singing.'\n\nSo passed that first year, which many an intending missionary before\nPatteson has found a crucial test which he has not taken into his\ncalculations. The soreness of the wrench from home is still fresh,\nand there is no settled or regular work to occupy the mind, while the\nhardships are exactly of the kind that have not been anticipated, and\nare most harassing, though unsatisfying to the imagination, and all this\nwhen the health is adapting itself to a new climate, and the spirits\nare least in time, so that the temper is in the most likely condition\nto feel and resent any apparent slight or unexpected employment. No one\nknows how many high hopes have sunk, how many intended workers have been\nturned aside, by this ordeal of the first year.\n\nPatteson, however, was accepting whatever was distasteful as wholesome\ntraining in the endurance of hardships, and soon felt the benefit he\nreaped from it. The fastidiousness of his nature was being conquered,\nhis reluctance to rebuke forced out of being a hindrance, and no doubt\nthe long-sought grace of humility was rendered far more attainable by\nthe obedient fulfilment of these lowly tasks.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII. THE MELANESIAN ISLES. 1856-1857.\n\n\n\nAnd now, in his twenty-ninth year, after all the unconscious preparation\nof his education, and the conscious preparation of two years, Coleridge\nPatteson began the definite work of his life. Bishop Selwyn was to\nsail with him in the \"Southern Cross,\" making the voyage that had been\nintermitted during the expedition to England, introducing him to the\nIslands, and testing his adaptation to the work there. The first point\nwas, however, to be Sydney, with the hope of obtaining leave to use\nNorfolk Island as the headquarters of the Mission. They meant to touch\nthere, weather permitting, on their way northward.\n\nAscension Day was always Bishop Selwyn's favourite time for starting,\nso that the charge might be ringing freshly in his ears and those of his\ncompanions, 'Go ye and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of\nthe Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.'\n\nThere was morning service and Holy Communion at the little College\nchapel on the 1st of May, Ascension Day of 1856; then the party went on\nboard, but their first start was only to Coromandel Bay, in order\nthat the Bishop might arrange a dispute with the Maoris, and they then\nreturned to Auckland to take up Mrs. Selwyn. The crew were five in\nnumber, and Mr. Leonard Harper, son of the future Bishop of Lyttelton,\nlikewise accompanied them, and relieved Patteson of his onerous duties\nas steward.\n\nThe first adventure was such a storm as the little vessel had never yet\nencountered. The journal-letter thus describes it:--'On Saturday\nmorning it began to blow from the north-east, and for the first time\nI experienced a circular gale or hurricane. Mrs. Somerville, I think,\nsomewhere describes the nature of them in her \"Physical Geography.\"\nThe wind veered and hauled about a point or two, but blew from the\nnorth-east with great force, till about seven P.M. we could do no more\nwith it and had to lie to. Ask old D. what that means, if you can't\nunderstand my description of it. The principle of it is to set two small\nsails, one fore and one aft, lash the rudder (wheel) amidships, make all\nsnug, put on hatches, batten everything down, and trust to ride out the\nstorm. As the vessel falls away from the wind by the action of one sail,\nit is brought up to it again by the other-sail. Thus her head is always\nkept to the wind, and she meets the seas, which if they caught her on\nthe beam or the quarter would very likely send her down at once. About\nmidnight on Saturday the wind suddenly chopped round to W.S.W., so that\nwe were near the focus of the gale; it blew harder and harder till we\ntook down the one sail forward, as the ropes and spars were enough for\nthe wind to act upon. From 1 P.M. to 7 P.M. on Sunday it blew furiously.\nThe whole sea was one drift of foam, and the surface of the water beaten\ndown almost flat by the excessive violence of the wind, which cut off\nthe head of every wave as it strove to raise itself, and carried it\nin clouds of spray and great masses of water, driving and hurling it\nagainst any obstacle, such as our little vessel, with inconceivable\nfury. As I stood on deck, gasping for breath, my eyes literally unable\nto keep themselves open, and only by glimpses getting a view of this\nmost grand and terrible sight, it seemed as if a furious snow-storm\nwas raging over a swelling, heaving, dark mass of waters. When anything\ncould be seen beyond the first or second line of waves, the sky and sea\nappeared to meet in one cataract of rain and spray. A few birds were\ndriving about like spirits of the storm. It was, as Shakspeare calls it,\na regular hurly. Add to this the straining of the masts, the creaking of\nthe planks, the shrill whistle of the wind in the ropes and cordage, the\noccasional crash of a heavy sea as it struck us with a sharp sound, and\nthe rush of water over the decks, down the companion and hatches, that\nfollowed, and you have a notion of a gale of wind. And yet this was far\nfrom all the wind and sea can do, and we were never in any danger, I\nbelieve. That is, an unlucky sea at such a time may be fatal, and if\nanything about the schooner had been unsound it might have been awkward.\nAt prayers, the Bishop read the prayer to be used in a storm, but I\nnever myself entertained the idea of our being really in peril, nor did\nI suffer anything like the anxiety that I did when we were rounding Cape\nPalliser on our way to Wellington with the Judge. Here we had sea room\nand no fear of driving upon rocks. It is blowing a good deal now, as\nyou see by my writing. I have a small ink-bottle of glass, made like\nan eel-pot (such as tax-gatherers use), tied to my buttonhole, and with\nthis I can scribble away in almost any sea. Dear me! you could not sit\nstill a minute, even now. I was qualmish on Saturday, and for a minute\nsick, but pretty comfortable on Sunday, though wearied by the constant\npitching and rolling.'\n\nThe day after this, namely May 15, the Bishop and Mr. Patteson rowed\ninto Cascade Bay, Norfolk Island, amid a heavy surf, but they saw no\ncascade, as there had been no rain for a long time; and there were only\nrocks surmounted by pine trees, no living creature, no landing-place, as\nthey coasted along. At last they saw a smooth-looking rock with an iron\nstaple, and concluding that it was the way of approach, they watched\ntheir time, and through the surf which broke over it they leapt on it,\nand dashed ashore before the returning swell caught them. They walked\ninland, and met a man, one of twelve convicts who had been left behind\nto receive the Pitcairners, who had not yet arrived, but were on their\nway from their original island in H.M.S. 'Juno.' The vegetation and\nclimate struck them as beautiful; there were oranges, lemons, sweet\npotatoes, and common potatoes, and English vegetables, and the Norfolk\nIsland pine growing to a great height: 'but,' writes Coley, 'it is\ncoarser in the leaf and less symmetrical in shape than I had expected.\nI thought to have seen the tree of Veitch's nursery garden on a scale\nthree or four times as large, and so I might have done in any of the\ngardens; but as they grow wild in the forest, they are not so very\ndifferent from the more common fir tribe.'\n\nThey saw one house, but had little time, and getting down to the smooth\nrock, stood there, barefooted, till the boat could back in between the\nrollers; the Bishop leapt in at the first, and the boat made off at\nonce, and till it could return, Patteson had to cling to the clamps to\nhinder himself from being washed off, as six or seven waves broke over\nhim before the boat could come near enough for another spring. These\ndifficulties in landing were one of the recommendations of the island,\nby isolating the future inhabitants from the demoralising visits of\nchance vessels.\n\nThen followed some days of great enjoyment of the calm warmth of the\nsemi-tropical winter, chiefly varied by catching a young shark, and\ncontrasting him with his attendant pilot, as the ugliest and\nprettiest of fish. Patteson used the calm to write (May 30) one of his\nintrospective letters, owning that he felt physical discomfort, and\nfound it hard to banish 'recollections of clean water, dry clothes,\nand drink not tasting like medicine; but that he most of all missed the\nperfect unconstrained ease of home conversation.'\n\nThen he continues:--\n\n'But now, don't you see, Fan, how good this is for me? If you think\nimpartially of me, as you recollect me, you will see how soft and\nindolent I was, how easily I fell into self-indulgent habits, how little\nI cared to exert myself and try and exercise the influence, etc., a\nclergyman may be supposed to possess; there was nothing about me to\nindicate energy, to fit me for working out a scheme and stamping my own\nmind upon others who came in contact with me. Perhaps there is no one\nperson who can trace any sensible influence to anything I ever did or\nsaid.\n\n'Now I don't of course venture to say that this is otherwise now; but I\nthink that this is the best training to make it so. I think that I ought\nto be gaining strength of purpose, resolution, energy of character,\nunder these circumstances. And observe, what should I be without some\nsuch change pressing on me? Just imagine me, such a one as I was at\nAlfington, alone on an island with twenty-five Melanesian boys, from\nhalf as many different islands, to be trained, clothed, brought into\norderly habits, &c., the report of our proceedings made in some sort\nthe test of the working of the Mission; and all this to be arranged,\nordered, and worked out by me, who found H. B---- and W. P---- a care\ntoo great for me.\n\n'Don't you see that I must become very different from what I was--more of\na man; to say nothing of the higher and religious side of this question?\nWhile then there is much that my carnal self-indulgent nature does not\nat all like, and while it is always trying to rebel, my better sense and\nthe true voice within tells me that, independently of this particular\nwork requiring such a discipline, the discipline itself is good for the\nformation of my own character.... Oh! the month of June at Feniton! the\nrhododendrons, azaleas, and kalmias, the burst of flowers and trees, the\nsong of thrush and blackbird (both unknown to New Zealand). The green\nmeadows and cawing rooks, and church towers and Sunday bells, and the\nbright sparkling river and leaping trout: and the hedges with primrose\nand violet (I should like to see a hedge again); and I am afraid I must\nadd the green peas and beans, and various other garden productions,\nwhich would make salt pork more palatable! Yes, I should like to see\nit all again; but it is of the earth after all, and I have the\n\"many-twinkling smile of Ocean,\" though there is no soft woodland dell\nto make it more beautiful by its contrast. Well, I have had a happy hour\nscribbling away, and now to work.'\n\n'I am less distressed now,' he adds, a few days later, in the same\nstrain, 'at the absence of all that is customary in England on these\noccasions (great festivals), though I dare not say how far the loss of\nall these privileges produces a bad effect upon my heart and character.\nOne often loses the spirit when the form is withdrawn, and I still\nsorely long for the worship of God in the beauty of holiness, and my\nmind reverts to Ottery Church, and college chapels and vast glorious\ncathedrals.'\n\nOn the 10th of June the 'Southern Cross' was in Sydney harbour, and\nremained there a fortnight, Bishop Barker gladly welcoming the new\narrivals, though in general Bishop Selwyn and his Chaplain announced\nthemselves as like the man and woman in the weather-glass, only\ncoming-out by turns, since one or other had to be in charge of the ship;\nbut later an arrangement was made which set them more at liberty.\nAnd the churches at Sydney were a great delight to Patteson; the\narchitecture, music, and all the arrangements being like those among\nwhich he had been trained.\n\n'A Sunday worth a dozen gales of wind!' he exclaims, 'but you can hardly\njudge of the effect produced by all the good substantial concomitants\nof Divine worship upon one who for fourteen months has scarcely seen\nanything but a small wooden church, with almost all the warmth of\ndevotion resting on himself. I feel roused to the core. ...I felt the\nblessing of worshipping the Lord with a full heart in the beauty of\nholiness. A very good organ well played, and my joy was great when we\nsang the long 78th Psalm to an old chant of itself almost enough to\nupset me, the congregation singing in parts with heart and voice.'\n\nHis exhilaration showed itself in a letter to his little cousin, Paulina\nMartin:--\n\n\n\"Southern Cross,\" Sydney Harbour: June 18, 1856.\n\n'My darling Pena,--Are you so anxious to have a letter from me, and do\nyou think I am going to forget all about you? However, you have had long\nbefore this two or three letters from me, I hope, and when I write to\ngrandpapa or grandmamma or mamma, you must always take it as if a good\ndeal was meant for you, for I have not quite so much time for writing\nas you have, I dare say, in spite of music and French and history and\ngeography and all the rest of it. But I do dearly love to write to you\nwhen I can, and you must be quite certain that I shall always do so as I\nhave opportunity.\n\n'Don't you ever talk to me about any of your English watering-places and\nsea-port towns! No one knows anything about what an harbour can be\nfor perfect beauty of earth, air, and sea, for wooded banks and rocky\nheights, and fine shipping and handsome buildings, and all the bustle\nand stir of a town of 80,000 inhabitants somehow lost and hidden among\ngum trees and Norfolk Island pines and parks and gravel walks; and\neverywhere the magnificent sea view breaking in upon the eye. Don't be\nangry, darling, for I love Dawlish very much, and would sooner go and\nsail the \"Mary Jane\" with you in some dear little basin among the rocks\nat low tide, and watch all the little crabs and other creatures with\nlong Latin names, than walk about Sydney arm-in-arm with the Bishops of\nNew Zealand and Newcastle, to call on the Governor. But I must say what\nI think about the natural scenery of places that I visit, and nowhere,\neven in New Zealand--no, not even in Queen Charlotte's Sound, nor in\nBanks's Peninsula, have I seen anything so completely beautiful as this\nharbour--'\"heoi ano\" \"that's enough.\" The Governor told us yesterday\nthat when he was at Hobart Town, he made the convicts cut a path through\none of the deep gullies running down from a mountain 4,500 feet high to\nthe sea. The path was two miles long, and all the way the tree-ferns,\nbetween twenty and thirty feet high, formed a natural roof arched and\nvaulted like the fretted roofs of our Tudor churches and chapels.\nThere is a botanical garden here with a very good collection of all\nthe Australian trees and shrubs, and with many New Zealand and many\nsemi-tropical plants besides. All the English flowers and fruits grow\nhere as well, so that in the warmer months it must look beautiful. It\nis close to the sea, which runs here in little creeks and bays close up\namong the public walks and buildings; and as the shore is all rocky and\nsteep at low water, there is no mud or swamp or seaweed, but only clear\ngreen water quite deep and always calm and tranquil, because the harbour\nis so broken up and diversified by innumerable islets, gulfs, &c., that\nno wind can raise any sea of consequence in it.\n\n'Just now it is winter time--slight frost at night, but no appearance\nof it after the sun is up; bright hot days, and bracing cold nights, the\nvery perfection of a climate in winter, but in summer very hot. It is\nso funny to me to see regular stone and brick houses, and shops, and\ncarriages, and cabs, &c., all quite new to me.\n\n'To-night there is a great missionary meeting. Bishops of Sydney, New\nZealand, and Newcastle present. Bishop of Newcastle and a Mr. King\nadvocate the cause of the Australian blacks, and the Bishop of New\nZealand and unfortunate I have to speechify about Melanesia. What on\nearth to say I don't know, for of course the Bishop will exhaust the\nsubject before me.\n\n'However, I must try and not be in a great fright; but I would sooner by\nhalf be going to have a talk with a parcel of Maoris. Now, you must get\nFanny Patteson to tell you all about our voyage from New Zealand, our\nadventure at Norfolk Island, &c.\n\n'We sail on Monday, 23rd, for Norfolk Island again, as it is in our way\nto the Solomon group, because we shall get the S.E. trades just about\nthere, and so run away in style to the Solomon Islands, and perhaps\nfarther north still, but that is not probable this time.\n\n'Always, my darling,\n\n'Your affectionate cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThis meeting was called by the Australian Board of Missions to receive\ninformation or propositions concerning the missions to the Australians\nand Melanesians. Bishop Barker of Sydney was in the chair, and the\nBishop of Newcastle, who had made one Melanesian cruise in the 'Border\nMaid,' was likewise present. The room was crowded to excess, and from\n900 to 1,000 were certainly present, many more failing to get in.\nAfterwards Patteson writes to his father:--\n\n'The Bishop of New Zealand, in introducing me to the meeting, spoke\nbefore all these people of you and me in a way that almost unnerved\nme, and I had to speak next. What he said is not reported, or very\nbadly--calling me his dear friend, with his voice quivering--I never saw\nhim more, or so much affected--\"I ought to be most thankful to God for\ngiving me so dear a companion, &c.\" But he spoke so of you, and people\nhere seemed to know of you, coming up to me, and asking about you,\nafter the meeting. The Bishop of Newcastle spoke of you most kindly, and\nreally with very great feeling. An evening I had dreaded ended happily.\nBefore I dined with the three Bishops; last night with Chief Justice Sir\nAlfred Stephen, and met the trio again, Bishop everywhere speaking of me\nas one of his family. \"No, my boys are not with me; but we have my dear\nfriend Mr. Patteson.\" Of course all this exhibition of feeling never\ncomes out when we are alone, we know each other too well. And now the\nromance of Mission work is over, and the real labour is to begin. There\nhas been bad work among the islands lately, but you know in whose hands\nwe are.'\n\nThe collections both at the door and on the following Sunday were very\nlarge, and a strong warm feeling was excited in Sydney which has never\nsince died away. Mr. Patteson was much beloved there, and always met\nwith kind welcome and ready assistance from all classes. But there was\none great disappointment. The Bishop of New Zealand, on formally setting\nbefore Sir William Denison, Governor-General of Australia, his plan\nfor making Norfolk Island the site of a school for training Melanesian\nteachers, and eventually the seat of a bishopric, received a refusal,\nand was not permitted even to place a chaplain there. Sir William, as\nhe tells us in his published diary, had heard from some quarter or other\nrumours respecting the Melanesian scholars which made him suppose\nthat their presence might have a bad effect upon the Pitcairners; and\nrepeated that his instructions were that the islanders should be left as\nmuch as possible to themselves. The request to be permitted to place Mr.\nPatteson there was refused on the ground that Norfolk Island belonged to\nthe see of Tasmania, and not to that of New Zealand. But the Bishop of\nTasmania could hardly visit it without great inconvenience, and he had\ntherefore placed it under the care of his brother of New Zealand,\nfull in whose track it lay. The matter was referred to the Colonial\nSecretary, and in the meantime Bishop Selwyn adhered to his purpose\nof visiting it on leaving Sydney, and though he could not place his\nchaplain there, leaving Mrs. Selwyn to assist in the work of training\nthe new comers to the novelties of a more temperate climate and a more\ngenial soil than they had known on the torrid rock of Pitcairn's Island.\n\nAccordingly, on the 4th of July, the 'Southern Cross' again approached\nthe island, and finding that the Pitcairners had come, and that\ntheir magistrate and Mr. Nobbs, their clergyman, would gladly welcome\nassistance, the Bishop brought Mrs. Selwyn on shore, and left her there\nto assist Mr. Nobbs in preparing the entire population to be confirmed\non his return. But the Pitcairners have been amply written about, and as\nColeridge Patteson's connection with them was only incidental, I shall\nnot dwell on them or their history.\n\nThe 'Southern Cross' reached Anaiteum on the 14th of July. This island\nwas occupied by Mr. Inglis and Mr. Greddie, of the Scottish Presbyterian\nMission, who had done much towards improving the natives. Small canoes\nsoon began to come off to the vessel, little craft consisting of no more\nthan the trunk of a tree hollowed out, seldom more than a foot broad,\nand perhaps eighteen inches deep, all with outriggers--namely, a slight\nwooden frame or raft to balance them, and for the most part containing\ntwo men, or sometimes three or four. Before long, not less than fifteen\nor twenty had come on board, with woolly hair and mahogany skins,\ngenerally wearing a small strip of calico, but some without even this.\nThey were small men, but lithe and supple, and walked about the deck\nquite at ease, chattering in a language no one understood except the\nwords 'Missy Inglis,' as they pointed to a house. Presently another\ncanoe arrived with a Samoan teacher with whom the Bishop could converse,\nand who said that Mr. Geddie was at Mare. They were soon followed by a\nwhale boat with a Tahitian native teacher, a Futuma man, and a crew of\nAnaiteans.\n\n'The Futuma man had expended his energies upon his hair, which was\nelaborately dressed after a fashion that precluded the possibility of\nany attention being bestowed upon the rest of his person, which was\naccordingly wholly unencumbered with any clothing. The perfection of\nthis art apparently consisted in gathering up about a dozen hairs\nand binding them firmly with grass or fine twine of cocoa-nut fibre\nplastered with coral lime. As the hair grows, the binding is lengthened\nalso, and only about four or five inches are suffered to escape from\nthis confinement, and are then frizzed and curled, like a mop or a\npoodle's coat. Leonard Harper and I returned in this boat, Tahitian\nsteering, Samoan, Futuman, and Anaiteans making one motley crew. The\nbrisk trade soon carried us to the beach in front of Mr. Inglis's house,\nand arrived at the reef I rode out pick-a-back on the Samoan, Leonard\nfollowing on a half-naked Anaitean. We soon found ourselves in the midst\nof a number of men, women and children, standing round Mr. Inglis at the\nentrance of his garden. I explained to him the reason of the Bishop's\nbeing unable to land, that he alone knew the harbour on the other side\nof island, and so could not leave the vessel.\n\n'Then, having delivered the boxes and letters we had brought for him\nfrom Auckland, we went into his house, gazing with delight at cocoanut\ntrees, bananas, breadfruit trees, citrons, lemons, taro, &c., with\nbright tropical colouring thrown over all, lighting up the broad leaves\nand thick foliage of the trees around us.\n\n'The house itself is built, after the fashion of these islands, of\nwattle plastered with coral lime, the roof thatched with the leaves of\nthe cocoa-nut and pandana; the fences of the garden were made of cane,\nprettily worked together in a cross pattern; the path neatly kept,\nand everything looking clean and tidy. We sat down in a small,\nwell-furnished room, and looked out upon the garden, verandah, and\ngroups of men and women standing outside. Presently Mrs. Inglis came\ninto the room, and after some discussion I was persuaded to stay all\nnight, since the schooner could not reach her anchorage before dark, and\nthe next day the water-casks were to be filled.\n\n'An excellent dinner was provided: roast fowl with taro, a nutritious\nroot somewhat like potato, rice and jam, bananas and delicious fruit,\nbread and Scotch cheese, with glasses of cocoa-nut milk.\n\n'Afterwards he showed us the arrangements for boarding young men and\nwomen--twelve of the former, and fourteen of the latter. Nothing could\nwell exceed the cleanliness and order of their houses, sleeping rooms,\nand cooking rooms. The houses, wattled and plastered, had floors covered\nwith native mats, beds laid upon a raised platform running round the\ninner room, mats and blankets for covering, and bamboo cane for a\npillow. The boys were, some writing, some making twine, some summing,\nwhen we went in; the girls just putting on their bonnets, of their own\nmanufacture, for school.\n\n'They learn all household work--cooking, hemming, sewing, &c.; the boys\ntend the poultry, cows, cultivate taro, make arrowroot, &c. All of them\ncould read fluently, and all looked happy, clean, and healthy. The girls\nwear their native petticoats of cocoa-nut leaves, with a calico body.\nBoys wear trousers, and some had shirts, some waistcoats, and a few\njackets.\n\n'We walked about a small wood adjoining the house, through which a small\nfresh-water stream runs. In the wood we saw specimens of the various\ntrees and shrubs, and flowers of the island, including those already\nnoticed in Mr. Inglis's garden, and the breadfruit tree and sugar-cane,\nand a beautiful bright flower of scarlet colour, a convolvulus, larger\nthan any I had ever seen elsewhere; also a tree bearing a very beautiful\nyellow flower.\n\n'We then returned to the house, and shortly afterwards went to the\nchurch, which is at present used also as the school-house, though the\nuprights of a larger school-house are already fixed in the ground.\n\n'Men, women, and children to the number of ninety-four had assembled in\na large oblong building, wattled and plastered, with open windows on\nall sides; mats arranged on the floor, and a raised platform or bench\nrunning round the building for persons who prefer to sit after the\nEnglish, instead of the native fashion,\n\n'All that were called upon to read did so fluently; the singing was\nharsh and nasal enough, but in very good time; their counting very good,\nand their writing on slates quite equal to the average performance, I\nam satisfied, of a good English parish school. They listened attentively\nwhen Mr. Inglis spoke to them, and when at his request I said a few\nwords, which he translated. The most perfect order and quiet prevailed\nall the time we were in the school. At the end of the lessons they\ncame forward, and each one shook hands with Leonard Harper and myself,\nsmiling and laughing with their quick intelligent eyes, and apparently\npleased to see strangers among them.\n\n'By this time it was dusk, and we went back to the Mission House, and\nspent a pleasant evening, asking and answering questions about Anaiteum\nand the world beyond it, until 8 P.M., when the boarders came to\nprayers, with two or three persons who live about the place. They read\nthe third chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel in turns, verse by verse, and\nthen a prayer from Mr. Inglis followed. At 8.30 we had private family\nprayers, and at 9 went to bed.\n\n'July 16.--We got up at four, and were soon ready for our walk to the\nsouth side of the Island; Mr. Inglis came with us, and ten or twelve\nnatives. For the first half-mile we walked along the beach among\ncocoa-nut trees, bananas and sugar-canes, the sun, not yet above the\nhorizon, tingeing the light clouds with faint pink and purple lines,\nthe freshness of the early dawn, and the soft breeze playing about us,\ngladdening at once our eyes and our hearts. Soon we struck off to the\nsouth, and passing through taro plantations, began to ascend the slopes\nof the island. As we walked along we heard the sound of the logs beaten\ntogether, summoning the people to attend the various schools planted in\nevery locality, under the management of native teachers, and we had a\ngood opportunity of observing the careful system of irrigation adopted\nby the natives for the cultivation of the taro plant. Following the\ncourse of a small mountain stream, we observed the labour with which\nthe water was brought down from it upon causeways of earth, carried in\nbaskets from very considerable distances; occasionally the water-course\nis led round the head of various small ravines; at other times the trunk\nof a tree is hollowed out and converted into an aqueduct; but no pains\nhave been wanting to make provision for the growth of the staple food of\nthe island.'\n\nFrom this scene of hope and encouragement the 'Southern Cross' sailed on\nthe sixteenth, and passing Erromango, came in sight of Fate, also called\nSandwich, a wooded island beautiful beyond description, but with a\nbad character for cannibalism, and where the Samoan teachers had been\nmurdered. So the approach was cautious, and the vessel kept a mile from\nthe shore, and was soon surrounded with canoes, one of them containing a\nnative who had been instructed in Samoa, and was now acting as teacher.\n\n'The first canoe that came had five men on board. Girdles of beautifully\nplaited cocoa-nut fibre round their waists were their only clothing, but\nsome had wreaths of flowers and green leaves round their heads, and most\nof them wore mother-of-pearl shells, beads, &c., round their necks and\nin their ears. They do not tattoo, but brand their skins. All five came,\nand presently three more, and then another; but seeing a large double\ncanoe with perhaps twenty men in her coming close, we stood away. Two of\nour visitors chose to stay, and we have them on board now: Alsoff, a man\nof perhaps forty-five, and Mospa, a very intelligent young man from whom\nI am picking up words as fast as I can. F. would have laughed to have\nseen me rigging them out in calico shirts, buttoning them up. Mospa gave\nme his wooden comb, which they push through their hair, as you ladies do\ncoral or gold pins at parties. Another fellow whose head was elaborately\nfrizzled and plastered with coral lime, departed with one of my common\ncalico pocket-handkerchiefs with my name in Joan's marking. This is to\nadorn his head, and for aught I know, is the first, and certainly the\nbest specimen of handwriting in the island. We hope to call at all these\nislands on our way back from the north, but at present we only dodge a\nfew canoes, &c.\n\n'July 20.--I suppose you like to know all little things, so I tell you\nthat our Fate friends, being presented each with a blanket, just wound\nthemselves up on the cabin floor, one close to Leonard and me, and slept\naway in style; that I soon taught them to eat with a knife and fork, and\nto-day have almost succeeded in making them believe that plum pudding\n(our Sunday dish) is a fine thing.\n\n'July 21.--All day we have been very slowly drifting along the west\nside of Espiritu Santo. A grand mountainous chain runs along the whole\nisland, the peaks we estimate at 4,000 feet high. This alone is a fine\nsight--luxuriant vegetation to nearly the top of the peaks, clouds\nresting upon the summit of the range, from the evaporation caused by the\nvast amount of vegetable matter.\n\n'As we were lying to, about half-way along the coast, we espied a brig\nat anchor close on shore. Manned the boat and rowed about two miles to\nthe brig, found it was under the command of a notorious man among the\nsandal-wood traders for many a dark deed of revenge and unscrupulous\nretaliation upon the natives. At Nengone he shot three in cold blood who\nswam off to his ship, because the people of the place were said to be\nabout to attempt to take his vessel. At Mallicolo but lately I fear he\nkilled not less than eight, though here there was some scuffling and\nprovocation. For the Nengone affair he was tried for his life at Sydney,\nCaptain Erskine and the Bishop having much to do with his prosecution.\nHe is now dealing fairly (apparently) with these people, and is\ncertainly on very friendly terms with them. The Bishop has known him\nmany years, and baptized some years ago his only child, a son. We are\nglad to let these men see that we are about in these seas, watching\nwhat they do; and the Bishop said, \"Mr. Patteson is come from England on\npurpose to look after these islands,\" as much as to say, Now there will\nbe a regular visitation of them, and outrages committed on the natives\nwill probably be discovered.\n\n'Well, on we rowed, half a mile to shore--such a lovely scene. A bend\nin the coral reef made a beautiful boat harbour, and into it we rowed.\nClear as crystal was the water, bright as tropical sun at 2.30 P.M.\ncould make it was the foliage on the shore. Numbers of children and boys\nwere playing in the water or running about on the rocks and sands, and\nthere were several men about, all of course naked, and as they lead\nan amphibious life they find it very convenient. They work little;\nbreadfruit trees, cocoa-nut trees, and bananas grow naturally, and the\nyam and taro cultivations are weeded and tended by the women. They have\nnothing to do but eat, drink, and sleep, and lie on the warm coral rock,\nand bathe in the surf.\n\n'There was no shyness on the part of the children, dear little fellows\nfrom six to ten clustering round me, unable to understand my coat with\npockets, and what my socks could be--I seemed to have two or three\nskins. The men came up and soon shook hands, but did not seem to know\nthe custom. A Nengone man was ashore, and with him I could talk a\nlittle. Soon I was walking on shore arm-in-arm with him, stark naked,\nand he was asking me about Mrs. Nihill and her child. A little boy of\nthe island held the other hand, and so, leaving the boat, we walked\ninland into the bush to see a native village. Ten minutes' walk brought\nus to it--cottages all of bamboos tied together with cocoa-nut fibre,\nthatched with leaves, a ridge-pole and sloping roof on either side\nreaching to the ground. No upright poles or side-walls; they were quite\nopen at the two ends, perhaps 20, 30, or even 40 feet long; the general\nappearance clean and healthy. Their food was kept on raised stages as in\nNew Zealand, and they had plenty of earthenware pots and basins, some of\ngood shape, and all apparently strong and serviceable. Large wooden or\nearthenware platters are used for stirring up and pounding the yams with\na heavy wooden pestle, and they have a peculiar way of scraping the yam,\non a wooden board roughened like a grater, into a pulp, and then boiling\nit into a fine dough.\n\n'They have plenty of pigs and dogs, which they eat, and some fowls.\nSpears I saw none, but bows and arrows. I took a bow out of a man's\nhand, and then an arrow, and fitted it to the string; he made signs that\nhe shot birds with it. Clubs they have, but as far as I saw only used\nfor killing pigs. There is a good deal of fighting on the island,\nhowever. Recollect with reference to all these places, that an island\nfifty or sixty miles long, one mass of forest with no path, is not like\nan English county. It may take months to get an accurate knowledge of\none of them; we can only at present judge of the particular spots and\nbays we touch at. But there is every indication here of friendliness,\nof a gentle, soft disposition, and I hope we shall take away some of the\nboys when we return. I never saw children more thoroughly attractive in\nappearance and manner,--dear little fellows, I longed to bring off\nsome of them. You would have liked to have seen them playing with me,\nlaughing and jumping about. These people don't look half so well when\nthey have any clothes on, they look shabby and gentish; but seeing them\non shore, or just coming out of a canoe, all glistening with water,\nand looking so lithe and free, they look very pleasant to the eye. The\ncolour supplies the place of clothing. The chief and most of the men\nwere unfortunately absent at a great feast held a few miles off, but\nthere were several women and many children.\n\n'We went to their watering place, about a quarter or half a mile from\nthe beach, a picturesque spot in a part of the wood to which the water\nfrom the hills is carried in canes of bamboo, supported on cross sticks.\nThe water was very clear and sweet, and one of our little guides soon\nhad a good shower-bath, standing under the shoot and then walking in the\nsun till in a few minutes his glistening skin was dry again. Coming back\nwe met a man carrying water in cocoa-nut shells, six or eight hanging by\nstrings two feet long at each end of a bamboo cane slung across over\nhis shoulder, nicely balanced and very pretty. One of our party carried\nperhaps two and a half gallons of water in a bamboo stuffed at the end\nwith grass. About five P.M. we went back to the schooner and made sail\nfor Bauro (San Cristoval).'\n\nAt this place there was a great disappointment at first in the\nnon-appearance of William Diddimang, an old baptized scholar at St.\nJohn's; and though he came at last, and dined on board, he had evidently\nso far fallen away as to be unwilling to meet the Bishop. The canoes\nhere were remarkably beautiful, built of several pieces, fastened with\na kind of gum. The shape was light and elegant, the thwarts elaborately\ncarved with figures of birds or fish, and the high prow inlaid with\nmother-of-pearl let into black wood.\n\nAs a Sunday at sea was preferable to one among curious visitors who must\nbe entertained, the schooner put out to sea to visit one to two other\nneighbouring islets, and then to return again to Bauro.\n\nKennell Island, where she touched on the 27th, proved to be inhabited by\nMaoris. One man, who swam alone to the vessel, offered the salutation of\nrubbing noses, New Zealand fashion, and converse could be held in that\nlanguage. Two more joined him, and spent the night on board in singing\na kaka or song of love for their visitors. Next day the island was\nvisited. 'Oh the beauty of the deep clefts in the coral reef, lined with\ncoral, purple, blue, scarlet, green, and white! the little blue fishes,\nthe bright blue starfish, the little land-crabs walking away with other\npeople's shells. But nothing of this can be seen by you; the coral loses\nits colour, and who can show you the bright line of surf breaking the\nclear blue of this truly Pacific Ocean, and the tropical sun piercing\nthrough masses of foliage which nothing less dazzling could penetrate.\nOur three friends, with two more men, their wives and children, form the\nwhole population of the south end of the island at all events, perhaps\ntwenty in all. I trod upon and broke flowering-branches of coral that\nyou would have wondered at.'\n\nBellona likewise had a Maori-speaking population. There was no passage\nthrough the reef, so the Bishop and Patteson took off their coats, one\ntook two hatchets and the other two adzes, and with a good header, swam\nashore. Walking up the beach, they found a place in the bush with nine\nbeautiful canoes, with nets, and large wooden hooks in them, but at\nfirst no people; and they were leaving their presents in the canoes when\nPatteson spied two men, and advanced to them while the Bishop went back\nto fetch the goods. After a rubbing of noses and a Maori greeting, the\nmen were reassured, and eleven more came up, one a chief with a spear\nin his hand. 'I had my straw hat fastened by a ribbon, which my friend\ncoveted, so I let him take it, which he did by putting his adze (my\ngift) against it, close to my ear, and cutting it, off--not the least\noccasion to be afraid of them.' A characteristic comment, certainly!\nBut there was no foolhardiness. The Bishop was on the alert, and when\npresently he saw his companion linger for a moment, a quick 'Come\nalong,' was a reminder that 'this was not the beach at Sidmouth.' The\npeculiar quickness of eye--verily circumspect, though without the least\nbetrayal of alarm or want of confidence, which was learnt from the\nneed of being always as it were on guard, was soon learnt likewise by\nPatteson, while the air of suspicion or fear was most carefully avoided.\nThe swim back to the boat was in water 'too warm, but refreshing,' and\nended with a dive under the boat for the pure pleasure of the thing.\n\nThen, as before arranged, Bauro was revisited on another part of the\ncoast, where Iri was ready with a welcome, but Diddimang appeared no\nmore. He had returned to native habits, and had made no attempt at\nteaching, but the visits he had made to New Zealand were not lost, for\nthe Bishop had acquired a knowledge of the language, and it was moreover\nestablished in the Bauro mind that a voyage in his ship was safe and\ndesirable. 'This part of Bauro was exceedingly beautiful:--\n\n'Here were coral crags, the masses of forest trees, the creepers\nliterally hundreds of feet long, crawling along and hanging from the\ncliffs, the cocoa-nut trees and bananas, palms, &c., the dark figures\non the edge of the rocks looking down upon us from among the trees, the\npeople assembling on the bright beach--coral dust as it may be called,\nfor it was worn as fine as white sand--cottages among the trees, and a\npond of fresh water close by, winding away among the cliffs.'\n\nHere a visit was paid to Iri's boathouse, which contained three\nexquisite canoes, beautifully inlaid; then to his house, long, low, and\nopen at the ends, like those formerly described, but with low wattled\nside walls. Along the ridge-pole were ranged twenty-seven skulls, not\nyet blackened with smoke, and bones were scattered outside, for a fight\nhad recently taken place near at hand. 'In this Golgotha,' the Bishop,\nusing his little book of Bauro words, talked to the people, and plainly\ntold them that the Great God hated wars and cruelty, and such ornaments\nwere horrible in his sight. Iri took it all in good part, and five boys\nwillingly accepted the invitation to New Zealand. One little fellow\nabout eight years old had attached himself to Coley, clinging about his\nwaist with his arms, but he was too young to be taken away. Iri came\ndown to the beach, and waded up to his waist in the water as the boat\nput off.\n\nIn the night Gera, or Guadalcanar, was reached, a fine mountainous\nisland, with a detached reef. Numerous canoes surrounded the vessel,\nbringing yarns for barter. Fish-hooks were of no account; it was small\nhatchets that were in request, and the Bauro boys could hold some sort\nof converse with the people, though theirs was quite another dialect.\nThey were gaily decked out with armlets, frontlets, bracelets, and\ngirdles of shell, and almost all of them wore, not only nose-rings,\nbut plugs of wood or mother-of-pearl in the tip of the nose. One man\nin particular had a shell eyelet-hole let into his nose, into which he\ninserted his unicorn decoration. The Bishop amused himself and Coley by\nsaying, as he hung a fishhook on this man's nose-hook, 'Naso suspendis\nadunco.' Others had six or eight pieces of wood sticking out from either\nside of the nose, like a cat's whiskers. Two young men were taken from\nhence, and more would have gone, but it was not thought well to take\nmarried men.\n\nThe isle of Mara or Malanta had a very shy population, who seemed to\nlive inland, having probably been molested by the warlike Gera men. It\nhad been supposed that there was a second islet here, but the 'Southern\nCross' boat's crew found that what had been taken for a strait was only\nthe mouth of a large river, where the casks were filled.\n\nThe wondrous beauty of the scene, sea and river alike fringed with the\nrichest foliage, birds flying about (I saw a large blue bird, a parrot,\nI suppose), fish jumping, the perfectly still water, the mysterious\nsmoke of a fire or two, the call of a man heard in the bush, just enough\nof novelty to quicken me to the full enjoyment of such a lovely bay as\nno English eyes save ours have ever seen.'\n\nNo communication with the native inhabitants was here accomplished, but\nat four little flat, cocoanut-covered islets, named after Torres, were\nthe head-quarters of an English dealer in cocoa-nut oil. The native race\nwere Maori-speaking, but their intercourse with sailors had given them a\nknowledge of the worst part of the English language, and as usual it was\nmournfully plain how much harm our countrymen instil.\n\nThe next group, sighted on the 17th of August, had already a remarkable\nhistory, to which Patteson refers in his journal, with no foreboding of\nthe association those reefs and bays were to acquire for him, and far\nmore through him.\n\nAlvaro de Mendana had, in 1567, gone forth from Peru on a voyage of\ndiscovery in the Pacific, and had then found, and named, most of the\nSolomon Isles. Grera and Bauro owed their names of Guadalcanar and San\nCristoval to him. In 1594, he obtained permission to found a colony on\nSan Cristoval, and set forth with his wife and four ships. But the Bauro\npeople were spared that grievous misfortune of a Spanish settlement;\nMendana missed his way, blundered into the Marquesas first, and then\ncame upon a cluster of islands, one large and beautiful, two small, and\none a volcano in full action.\n\nHe called the large island Santa Cruz, and fancied the natives of the\nsame race he had seen in Bauro, but they knew nothing of the language\nhe had learnt there, and though courteous at first, presently discharged\ntheir arrows. However, he found a beautiful harbour on the other side of\nthe island, and a friendly and dignified old chief called Malope, who in\nSouth Sea fashion exchanged names and presents with him. Mendana and\nhis wife Dona Ysabel seem to have wished to be on good terms with the\nnatives, and taught them to sign the cross, and say amigos, and they\nproceeded to found their intended city, but neither Mendana nor Malope\ncould restrain their followers; there were musket-shots on one side and\narrow-shots on the other, and at last, the chief Malope himself fell\ninto the hands of some Spanish soldiers, who murdered him. Mendana\npunished them with death; but his own health was fast failing, he died\nin a few weeks, and his widow deserted the intended city, and returned\nhome with the colonists, having probably bequeathed to the island a\ndistrust of white men.\n\nAll this was in Patteson's mind, as he shows by his journal, as the\nlovely scenery of Santa Cruz rose on him. The people came out in canoes\nwith quantities of yams and taro, of which they knew the full value; but\nthe numbers were so large that no 'quiet work' could be done, and there\nwas little to be done but to admire their costume, armlets, necklaces,\nplates of mother-of-pearl, but no nose ornaments. They had strips of a\nkind of cloth, woven of reed, and elaborate varieties of head-gear, some\nplastering their hair white with coral lime, others yellow, others red;\nothers had shaved half the head with no better implement than a sharp\nshell, and others had produced two lines of bristles, like hogs' manes,\non a shaven crown. Their decorations made a great sensation among the\nSolomon Islanders, who made offers of exchange of necklaces, &c.\n\nIn the evening the schooner made for the volcano, about three miles off.\nIt was a magnificent sight--a perfect cone, the base of the mountain and\nall except the actual cone being under water. The cone was apparently\nabout 2,000 feet high, clouds hanging about it near the top, lurid and\nfiery, increasing the grandeur of the glow at the summit. Every minute\nstreams of fire, falling from the top or sides, rushed down the mount,\nso that for a space of perhaps half a mile in breadth the whole cone was\nalways streaked, and sometimes covered with burning-masses of stones,\ncinders, &c. Bumbling noises were heard only a few times.\n\n'About 7 to 9 A.M. we sailed quite round the island, and saw there that\nthe fiery appearance at night is not actually fire or flame, but caused\nby hot burning stones and masses of scoria, &c., constantly falling down\nthe sides of the cone, which on the lee side are almost perpendicular.\nOn the weather side are cocoa-nut trees, and one small house, but we\ncould see no people. It was grand to see the great stones leaping and\nbounding down the sides of the cone, clearing 300 or 400 feet at a jump,\nand springing up many yards into the air, finally plunging into the sea\nwith a roar, and the splash of the foam and steam combined.\n\nThis was on the 12th of August, and here is the ensuing note, how\nfull now of significance, which it would be faithless to term\nmelancholy:--'We then went on to Nukapu, an island completely encircled\nby a coral reef. The natives soon came off in canoes, and brought\nbreadfruit and cocoa-nuts. They spoke a few words of Maori, but wore\ntheir hair like the people of Santa Cruz, and resembled them in the\ncharacter of their ornaments and in their general appearance. They had\nbows and clubs of the same kind, tapa stained with turmeric, armlets,\near-rings and nose-rings of bone and tortoiseshell.'\n\nReturning to Santa Cruz, a large supply of the produce was obtained\nby barter, but the people were still in such noisy crowds that nothing\ncould be effected beyond these commercial transactions.\n\nTubua was the next ensuing island, a lovely spot within its encircling\nring, over which the Bishop and Patteson waded, and found thirteen men\non the beach. Patteson went up to the first, tied a bit of red tape\nround his head, and made signs that he wanted a cocoa-nut in exchange\nfor a fish-hook. Plenty were forthcoming; but the Bishop, to his\ncompanion's surprise, made a sudden sign to come away, and when the boat\nwas regained he said: 'I saw some young men running through the bush\nwith bows and arrows, and these young gentry have not the sense to\nbehave well like their parents.'\n\nVanikoro was the next stage. This too had its history, encircled as\nit is with a complete reef of coral, in some parts double. In the year\n1785, two French vessels, which were commanded by Count La Perouse, and\nnamed 'La Boussole' and 'L'Astrolabe,' had set forth from Brest on a\nvoyage of discovery in the Pacific. They made a most discursive survey\nof that ocean, from Kamtschatka southwards, and at the end of 1787 were\nat the Samoan Isles, then unconverted, and where their two boats' crews\nwere massacred, and the boats lost. The ships came to Port Jackson,\nin Australia, to build fresh boats, left it in February 1788, and were\nnever heard of more. One or two attempts were made to ascertain their\nfate, but none succeeded till, in 1826, a sandal-wood trader named\nDillon found in the possession of a European, who had lived since 1813\nin Ticopia, the silver guard of a sword, and ascertained from him that\nthe natives had several articles, such as china, glass, and the handle\nof a silver fork, which evidently came from a ship. He had been told\nthat these articles had been procured from another isle called Vanikoro,\nwhere two large ships had been wrecked.\n\nHis intelligence led to the fitting out of a vessel, in which he was\nsent to ascertain the fate of the Frenchmen, and by the help of the\nman who had been so long in Ticopia, he was able to examine a Vanikoran\nchief. It appeared that the two ships had run aground on the parallel\nreefs. One had sunk at once, and the crew while swimming out had been\nsome of them eaten by the sharks, and others killed by the natives;\nindeed, there were sixty European skulls in a temple. The other vessel\nhad drifted over the reef, and the crew entrenched themselves on shore,\nwhile building another vessel. They went out and foraged for themselves\nin the taro fields, but they made no friends; they were ship-spirits,\nwith noses two hands long before their faces (their cocked hats).\nArticles were recovered that placed the fact beyond a doubt, and which\nwere recognised by one of the expedition who had left it in Kamtschatka,\nthe sole survivor. Of the fate of the two-masted vessel built by the\nshipwrecked crew, nothing was ever discovered.\n\nThe Mission party landed here, but saw nobody. They sent a black boy up\na tree for cocoa-nuts, and left a tomahawk beneath it as payment.\nThat there were inhabitants somewhere there was horrible proof, for a\nfrightful odour led to search being made, and the New Zealander Hoari\nturning up the ground, found human bones with flesh hanging to them. A\nlittle farther off was a native oven, namely, a pit lined with stones.\n\nThis was Patteson's nearest contact with cannibalism, and it left a deep\nimpression of horror.\n\nThe Banks group of islands came next--Great Banks Isle, or in the native\nlanguage Vanua Lava, Valua or Saddle Isle, a long narrow ridge of hills,\nMota or Sugarloaf Island, an equally descriptive name; Star Island,\nand Santa Maria. These places were to become of great importance to the\nMission, but little was seen of them at this time--the walls of coral\nround them were remarkably steep and difficult of access.\n\nValua had no beach and no canoes, and such swarms of natives clustering\nupon the cliffs that the Bishop did not think it prudent to land. In\nMota, though the coast for the most part rises up in sheer crags, forty\nor fifty feet above the sea, with a great volcanic cone in the centre,\na little cove was found with a good beach, where a number of inhabitants\nhad assembled. They were entirely without clothing or ornament, neither\ntattooed nor disfigured by betel-nut, and their bright honest faces\ngreatly attracted Patteson, though not a word of their language could\nbe then understood. He wanted to swim ashore among them, but the Bishop\nwould not allow it, lest it should be difficult to escape from the\nembraces of so many without giving offence. Great numbers swam out to\nthe boat, and canoes brought fruits of all kinds, and bamboos decked\nwith leaves and flowers. 'I crammed native combs in my hair,' says\nPatteson, 'picked up what words I could, and made up the rest by a grand\ndisplay of gesticulation.'\n\nAt Santa Maria, the next day, there was the like scene around the boat,\nonly the sight of a bit of striped calico caused immense excitement. At\nother islands it had been unheeded, but here the people were mad to\nget it, and offered their largest yams for strips of it, and a pair of\nscarlet braces were purchased for two beautiful bows.\n\nAt Vanua Lava, or Great Banks Island, on the 20th, a large canoe with\nseven men came alongside, three-quarters of a mile from shore. They\nwould not, however, venture on board till Patteson had gone into the\nwater, and placed himself in their canoe, after which they were induced\nto come on deck, were 'decorated with the order of the tape,' and\nreceived axes. No weapon was seen among them, and there was reason to\nthink them the tractable and hopeful race they have since proved.\n\nBligh Island, the next visited, plainly revealed itself as the cone\nof an enormous submerged volcano, the water forming a beautiful and\nextensive bay where numbers of people could be seen. There was a landing\nand a little trading for yams, and then, after the like intercourse\nwith some of the inhabitants of the cluster of small islets named after\nTorres, the vessel steered for Espiritu Santo, but wind and time forbade\na return to the part previously visited, nor was there time to do more\nthan touch at Aurora, and exchange some fish-hooks for some bows.\n\nAt Malicolo, in 1851, the Bishop and his party, while fetching water,\nhad been assailed with stones and arrows, and had only escaped by\nshowing the utmost coolness. There was, therefore, much caution shown in\napproaching this bay, called Port Sandwich, and the boat stopped outside\nits breakwater coral reef, where numerous canoes flocked round, the\npeople with their bows and arrows, not attempting to barter. Their\nfaces were painted some red, some black, or yellow. An old chief named\nMelanbico was recognised by the Bishop, and called by name into the\nboat. Another old acquaintance named Nipati joined him, and it was\nconsidered safe to row into the harbour. The Bishop had learnt a little\nof the language, and talked to these two, while Patteson examined\nNipati's accoutrements--a club, a bow, arrows neatly made, handsomely\nfeathered, and tipped with a deadly poison, tortoiseshell ear-rings, and\na very handsome shell armlet covering the arm from the elbow eight or\nnine inches upward, his face painted red and black. The Bishop read out\nthe list of names he had made on the former visit, and to several the\nanswer was 'dead, or 'shot,' and it appeared that a great mortality had\ntaken place. Large numbers, however, were on the beach, and the Bishop\nand Patteson landed among them, and conversed with them; but they\nshowed no disposition to trade, and though some of the lads seemed\nhalf-disposed to come away with the party, they all changed their minds,\nand went back again. However, all had behaved well, and one little\nboy, when offered a fish-hook, at once showed that he had received one\nalready. It was plain that a beginning had been made, which might lead\nto further results.\n\nTwo whales were seen while rowing back to the ship. One--about a third\nof a mile off--leapt several times fairly out of the water, and fell\nback on the sea 'with a regular crack,' dashing up the spray in clouds.\nThere was now very little time to spare, as the time of an ordination at\nAuckland was fixed, and two important visits had yet to be paid, so the\ntwo Fate guests were sent ashore in the canoes of some of their friends,\nand the 'Southern Cross' reached Nengone on the 1st of September. The\nBishop had left a boat there some years before, and the Samoan teacher,\nMark, who had been Mrs. Nihill's best friend and comforter, came out\nin it with a joyful party full of welcome. The Bishop and Patteson went\nashore, taking with them their two Bauro scholars, to whom the most\nwonderful sight was a cow, they never having seen any quadruped bigger\nthan a pig. All the native teachers and their wives were assembled, and\nmany of the people, in front of the house where Mr. Nihill had died.\nThey talked of him with touching affection, as they told how diligently\nhe had striven to bring young and old to a knowledge of his God; and\nthey eagerly assisted in planting at his grave a cross, which the Bishop\nhad brought from Auckland for the purpose, and which bore the words: 'I\nam the Resurrection and the Life.'\n\nThe coral lime church and the houses of the teachers among the cocoa-nut\ntrees gave the place a civilised look, and most of the people had some\nattempt at clothing. Here several passengers were taken in. The\ntwo girls, Caroline Wabisane and Sarah Wasitutru, were both\nmarried--Caroline to a Maori named Simeona, and Sarah to a man from her\nown isle called Nawiki. All these and two more men wished to go to St.\nJohn's for further instruction, and were taken on board, making up a\nparty of fourteen Melanesians, besides Sarah's baby. 'Mrs. Nihill will\nbe glad to have the women,' writes Coley, 'and I am glad to have the\nothers--not the baby, of course.'\n\nClose quarters indeed, but not for very long, for on the 3rd of\nSeptember the schooner again put into Norfolk Island, and on the next\nSunday Coley was present at the confirmation of the whole population,\nexcepting the younger children, and at the subsequent Communion. Strong\nhopes were then entertained that the Pitcairners, standing as it were\nbetween the English and the islanders, would greatly assist in the\nwork of the Gospel, but this plan was found only capable of being very\npartially carried out.\n\nOff Norfolk Island, he wrote to his brother an account of the way of\nlife on the voyage, and of the people:--\n\n'They are generally gentle, and seem to cling to one, not with the\nvery independent goodwill of New Zealanders, but with the soft yielding\ncharacter of the child of the tropics. They are fond, that is the word\nfor them. I have had boys and men in a few minutes after landing, follow\nme like a dog, holding their hands in mine as a little child does with\nits nurse.\n\n'My manner of life on board is as I described it before. I eschewed\nshoes and socks, rather liking to be paddling about all day, when not\ngoing on shore, or otherwise employed, which of course made up eight or\nten out of the thirteen hours of daylight. When I went ashore (which I\ndid whenever the boat went), then I put on my shoes, and always swam\nin them, for the coral would cut my feet to pieces. Usual swimming and\nwading attire--flannel shirt, dark grey trousers, cap or straw hat,\nshoes, basket round my neck with fish-hooks, or perhaps an adze or two\nin my hand. I enjoyed the tropical climate very much--really warm always\nin the water or out of it. On the reefs, when I waded in shallow water,\nthe heat of it was literally unpleasant, more than a tepid bath.'\n\nOn the 13th of September, the little missionary vessel came safe into\nharbour at Auckland, and Coley and his boys--they were considered\nespecially as his--took up their quarters at St. John's College. All\nthrough the voyage he had written the journals here followed for the\ngeneral benefit of his kindred, and at other leisure moments he had\nwritten more personal letters. On his sister Fanny's birthday, when\nthe visit to Malicolo was just over, after his birthday wishes, he goes\non:--\n\n'And now, how will you be when this reaches Feniton? I think of all your\ndaily occupations,--school, garden, driving, &c.--your Sunday reading,\nvisiting the cottages, &c., and the very thought of it makes me feel\nlike old times. When occasionally I dream, or fall into a kind of trance\nwhen awake, and fancy myself walking up from the lodge to the house, and\nold forms and faces rise up before me, I can scarcely contain the burst\nof joy and happiness, and then I give a shake and say, \"Well, it would\nbe very nice, but look about the horizon, and see how many islands\nyou can count!\" and then, instead of thoughts of home for myself, I am\ntempted to induce others to leave their homes, though I don't really\nthink many men have such a home to leave, or remain so long as I did,\none of the home fire-side.\n\n'I have been reading one or two of the German books you sent out.\n\"Friedrich der Grosse\" is interesting, but henceforth I don't think I\nshall have time for aught but a good German novel or two for wet days\nand jumping seas; or such a theological book as I may send for.'\n\nThe effect of the voyage seems to have shown itself in an inflamed leg,\nwhich was painful, but not disabled for some time. There was a welcome\nbudget of letters awaiting him,--one from his uncle Dr. Coleridge, to\nwhich this is the reply:--\n\n\n'September 15, 1856: St. John's College.\n\n'Your letter of March 26 was awaiting my arrival here. How thankful I\nam that (as Fan says) in little as in great things God is so good to us.\nLetters from me arriving on the anniversary of my departure! and all at\nThorverton!\n\n'You are clearly right in what you say about my post in the S. X. I did\nnot like it at first, just as a schoolboy does not like going back to\nschool; but that it was good for me I have no doubt; and now see! here I\nam on shore for seven or eight months, if I live so long--my occupations\nmost interesting, working away with twelve Melanesians at languages,\netc., with the highest of all incentives to perseverance, trying to form\nin them habits of cleanliness, order, decency, etc.\n\n'Last night (Sunday--their first Sunday in New Zealand), after\nexplaining to the Solomon Islands boys, seven in number, the nature of\nthe Lord's Prayer as far as my knowledge of their language would carry\nme, I thought myself justified in making them kneel down round me, and\nthey uttered with their lips after me (i.e. the five most intelligent)\nthe first words of prayer to their Father in Heaven. I don't venture to\nsay that they understood much--neither does the young child taught at\nhis or her mother's knees--neither do many grown persons perhaps know\nmuch about the fulness of the Prayer of Prayers--(these scenes teach\nme my ignorance, which is one great gain)--yet they knew, I think, that\nthey were praying to some great and mighty one--not an abstraction--a\nconscious loving Being, a Father, and they know at least the name of His\nSon, Jesus Christ.\n\n'Their first formula was: \"God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy\nGhost, only One God.\" I can't yet explain that our Blessed Lord came\nfrom heaven and died for our sins; neither (as far as human thought\nmay reach) does the power of God's Spirit as yet work in their hearts\nconsciousness of sin, and with that the sense of the need of a Redeemer\nand Saviour. I asked in my sermon yesterday the prayers of the people\nfor the grace of God's Holy Spirit to touch the hearts and enlighten the\nunderstandings of these heathen children of a common Father, and I added\nthat greatly did their teachers need their prayers that God would make\nthem apt to teach, and wise and simple in endeavouring to bring before\ntheir minds the things that belong unto their peace. You too, dear\nUncle, will think I know of these things, for my trust is great. In this\ncold climate, 26\u00b0 or 27\u00b0 of latitude south of their own island, I have\nmuch anxiety about their bodily health, and more about their souls.\n\n'The four youngest, sixteen to eighteen, sleep in my room. One is now on\nmy bed, wrapped up in a great opossum rug, with cold and slight fever;\nlast night his pulse was high, to-day he is better. I have to watch over\nthem like a cat. Think of living till now in a constant temperature\nof 84\u00b0, and being suddenly brought to 56\u00b0. New Zealand is too cold for\nthem, and the College is a cold place, wind howling round it now.\n\n'Norfolk Island is the place, and the Pitcairners themselves are most\nco-operative and hearty; I trust that in another year I may be there.\n\n'Thank you for all your kind wishes on my birthday. I ought to wish to\nlive many years, perhaps, to try and be of use; especially as I am so\nunfit to go now, or rather I ought not to wish at all. Sometimes I feel\nalmost fainthearted, which is cowardly and forgetful of our calling \"to\nfight manfully under Christ's banner.\" Ah! my Bishop is indeed a warrior\nof the Cross. I can't bear the things Sophy said in one of her letters\nabout my having given up.\n\nIt seems mock humility to write it; but, dear Uncle, if I am conscious\nof a life so utterly unlike what all you dear ones fancy it to be, what\nmust it be in the sight of God and His holy angels? What advantages I\nhave always had, and have now! and not a day goes by and I can say I\nhave done my duty. Good-bye, dear dear Uncle.\n\n'Always your affectionate and grateful nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.\n\n'Love to dear Aunt.'\n\n\nAlmost the first experience after settling in at St. John's College was\na sharp attack of fever that fell on Kerearua, one of the Bauro lads.\nSuch illnesses, it seemed, were frequent at home and generally fatal.\nHis companion Hirika remarked, 'Kerearua like this in Bauro ah! in a few\ndays he would die; by-and-by we go back to Bauro.' The sick boys were\nalways lodged in Coley's own room to be more quiet and thoroughly\nnursed. Fastidiousness had been so entirely crushed that he really\nseemed to take pleasure in the arrangement, speaking with enthusiasm of\nthe patient's obedience and gratitude, and adding, 'He looks quite nice\nin one of my night-shirts with my plaid counterpane, and the plaid Joan\ngave me over it, a blanket next to him.'\n\nThe Melanesians readily fell into the regular habits of short school,\nwork out of doors, meals in hall and bed-time, and they were allowed a\ngood deal of the free use of their limbs, needful to keep them happy\nand healthy. Now and then they would be taken into Auckland, as a great\ntreat, to see the soldiers on parade, and of course the mere living\nwith civilization was an immense education to them, besides the direct\ninstruction they received.\n\nThe languages of Nengone and Bauro were becoming sufficiently familiar\nto Mr. Patteson to enable him to understand much of what they said to\nhim. He writes to Miss Neill (October 17):--\n\n\n'I talk with them about common things, and learn a great deal of their\nwild savage customs and habits, but I can do but little as yet in the\nway of real instruction. Some ideas, I trust, they are beginning to\nacquire concerning our Blessed Lord. Is it not a significant fact that\nthe god worshiped in Gfera, and in one village of Bauro, is the Serpent,\nthe very type of evil? I need not say that these dear boys have won\ntheir way to my heart, they are most docile and affectionate. I think\nsome will really, if they live, leave their own island and live with me\nat Norfolk Island, or here, or wherever my dwelling may be whenever I am\nnot in the \"Southern Cross.\"\n\n'But of course I must not dwell on such notions. If it come to pass that\nfor some years I can retain a hold upon them, they may be instructed\nsufficiently to make them teachers in their turn to their own people.\nBut all this is in the hands of God. My home journal will tell you\nparticulars of our voyage. Don't believe in the ferocity, &c., of the\nislanders. When their passions are excited, they do commit fearful\ndeeds, and they are almost universally cannibals, i.e. after a battle\nthere will be always a cannibal feast, not otherwise. But treat them\nwell and prudently, and I apprehend that there is little danger in\nvisiting them, meaning by visiting merely landing on the beach the first\ntime, going perhaps to a native village the next time, sleeping on shore\nthe third, spending ten days the fourth, &c., &c. The language once\nlearnt from the pupils we bring away, all is clear. And now good-bye, my\ndear Miss Neill. That I think of you and pray for you, you know, and I\nneed not add that I value most highly your prayers for me. When I think\nof my happiness and good spirits, I must attribute much, very much, to\nGod's goodness in accepting the prayers of my friends.'\n\nAfter the old custom of telling the home party all his doings, the\njournal-letter of the 27th of November goes through the teaching to the\nBauro boys:--\n\n'I really think they comprehend thus much, that God, who made all\nthings, made man, Adam and Eve, very good and holy; that Adam and Eve\nsinned, that they did not listen to the word of God, but to the Bad\nSpirit; that God found them out, though they were afraid and tried to\nhide (for He sees and knows all things); that He drove them out of the\nbeautiful garden, and said that they must die; that they had two sons,\nCain and Abel; that Cain killed his brother, and that all fighting\nand killing people, and all other sins (I mention all for which I have\nnames) came into the world because of sin; that God and man were far\napart, not living near, no peace between them because men were so\nevil. That God was so good that He loved men all the time, and that He\npromised to save all men who would believe in His Son Jesus Christ, who\nwas to die for them (for I can't yet express, \"was to die that men might\nnot go down to the fire, but live for ever with God \"); that by and by\nHe sent a flood and drowned all men except Noah and seven other people,\nbecause men would not be good; that afterwards there was a very good\nman, named Abraham, who believed all about Jesus Christ, and God chose\nhim, and his son Isaac, and his son Jacob, and his twelve sons, to be\nthe fathers of a people called Jews; that those people alone knew about\nGod, and had teachers and praying men: and that they killed lambs and\noffered them (gave them to God as a sign of Jesus Christ being one day\nslain and offered to God on a cross) but these very men became wicked\ntoo, and at last, when no man knew how to be happy and good, Jesus\nChrist came down from heaven. His mother was Mary, but He had no father\non earth, only God the Father in heaven was His Father: the Holy Ghost\nmade Mary to be mother of Jesus Christ.\n\n'Then I take two books, or anything else, and say, This one is God, and\nthis is man. They are far apart, because man is so bad and God is so\ngood. But Jesus Christ came in the middle between them, and joins them\ntogether. He is God and He is Man too; so in(side) Him, God and Man\nmeet, like the meeting of two men in one path; and He says Himself He is\nthe true Way, the only true Path to God and heaven. God was angry with\nus because we sinned; but Jesus Christ died on the cross, and then God\nthe Father forgave us because Jesus Christ gave His life that we might\nalways live, and not die. By and by He will come to judge us; and He\nknows what we do, whether we steal and lie, or whether we pray and teach\nwhat is good. Men of Bauro and Gera and Santa Cruz don't know that yet,\nbut you do, and you must remember, if you go on doing as they do after\nyou know God's will, you will be sent down to the fire, and not see\nJesus Christ, who died that you might live.\n\n'I think that they know all this, and much in the exactly equivalent\nwords. Of course I find difficulty in rendering religious ideas in a\nlanguage which contains scarcely any words adequate to express them, but\nI am hopeful enough to believe that they do know so much at all events.\nHow far their hearts are affected, One alone knows. It is indeed but\nlittle after they have been with us four months; but till I had them on\nshore, I could get very little work done. The constant boat work took me\naway, and anywhere in sight of islands, of course they were on deck in\neagerness to see the strange country. Then I could not work with energy\nwhile my leg would not let me take exercise. But it is now beginning\nto be a real pleasure as well as duty to teach both Nengone and Bauro\npeople. Enough of the language to avoid most of the drudgery has been\ngot over, I hope, though not near enough for purposes of 'exact and\naccurate translation.'\n\nI have given at length this account of Patteson's fundamental teaching,\nthough to some it may seem to savour of the infant school, because in\nspite of being hampered by imperfect knowledge of the language, he has\nthrown into it the great principle both of his action and teaching;\nnamely, the restoration of the union of mankind with God through Christ.\nIt never embraced that view of the heathen world which regards it as\nnecessarily under God's displeasure, apart from actual evil, committed\nin wilful knowledge that it is evil. He held fast to the fact of man\nhaving been created in the image of God, and held that whatever good\nimpulses and higher qualities still remained in the heathen, were the\nremnants of that Image, and to be hailed accordingly. Above all, he\nrealised in his whole life the words to St. Peter: 'What God hath\ncleansed that call not thou common,' and not undervaluing for a moment\nSacramental Grace, viewed human nature, while yet without the offer\nthereof, as still the object of fatherly and redeeming love, and full of\nfitful tokens of good coming from the only Giver of life and holiness,\nand needing to be brought nearer and strengthened by full union and\nlight, instead of being left to be quenched in the surrounding flood\nof evil. 'And were by nature the children of wrath,' he did not hold\nto mean that men were objects of God's anger, lying under His deadly\ndispleasure; but rather, children of wild impulse, creatures of passion,\nswayed resistlessly by their own desires, until made 'children of\ngrace,' and thus obtaining the spiritual power needful to enable them to\nwithstand these passions. An extract from the sermon he had preached at\nSydney may perhaps best serve to illustrate his principle:--\n\n'And this love once generated in the heart of man, must needs pass on to\nhis brethren; that principle of life must needs grow and expand with\nits own inherent energy; the seed must be developed into the tree, and\nstrike its roots deep and wide, and stretch out its branches unto\nthe sea and its boughs unto the rivers. No artificial nor accidental\ncircumstances can confine it, it recognises no human ideas of\nnationality, or place, or time, but embraces like the dome of heaven all\nthe works of God. And love is the animating principle of all. In every\nstar of the sky, in the sparkling, glittering waves of the sea, in every\nflower of the field, in every creature of God, most of all in every\nliving soul of man, it adores and blesses the beauty and the love of the\ngreat Creator and Preserver of all.\n\n'Viewed indeed from that position which was occupied by ancient\nphilosophers, the existing contrarieties between nations might well\nappear inexplicable, and intellectual powers might seem to be the\nexclusive heritage of particular nations. But Christianity leads us to\ndistinguish between the nature of man as he came fresh from the hands of\nhis Creator, and that natural propensity to sin which he has inherited\nin consequence of his fall from original innocence. It teaches that as\nGod has \"made of one blood all nations to dwell together on the face\nof the whole earth,\" and has given in virtue of this common origin one\ncommon nature destined to be pure and holy and divine, so, by virtue of\nRedemption and Regeneration, the image of God may be restored in all,\nand whatever is the result of his depravity therefore may be overcome.\nAnd this seems to be the answer to all statements relating to the want\nof capacity in certain nations of the earth for the reception of Divine\nTruth, that every man, because he is a man, because he is a partaker of\nthat very nature which has been taken into the Person of the Son of God,\nmay by the grace of God be awakened to the sense of his true life, of\nhis real dignity as a redeemed brother of Christ.\n\n'The spark of heavenly fire may indeed have been all but quenched by\nthe unbridled indulgence of his passions; the natural wickedness of the\nheart of man may have exhibited itself with greater fearfulness where no\nlaws and customs have introduced restraints against at least the outward\nexpression of vice; but the capacity for the Christian life is there;\nthough overlaid, it may be, with monstrous forms of superstition or\ncruelty or ignorance, the conscience can still respond to the voice of\nthe Gospel of Truth.'\n\nAnd one who so entirely believed and acted upon these words found them\ntrue. The man who verily treated the lads he had gathered round him with\na perfectly genuine sympathy, a love and a self-denial--nay more, an\nidentification of self with them--awoke all that was best in their\ncharacters, and met with full response. Enthusiastic partiality of\ncourse there was in his estimate of them; but is it not one of the\nabsolute requisites of a good educator to feel that enthusiasm, like\nthe parent for the child? And is it always the blind admiration at which\noutsiders smile; is it not rather indifference which is blind, and love\nwhich sees the truth?\n\n'I would not exchange my position with these lads and young men for\nanything (he wrote, on December 8, to his uncle, the Eton master). I\nwish you could see them and know them; I don't think you ever had pupils\nthat could win their way into your heart more effectually than these\nfellows have attached themselves to me. It is no effort to love them\nheartily. Gariri, a dear boy from San Cristoval, is standing by me now,\nat my desk, in amazement at the pace that my pen is going, not knowing\nthat I could write to you, my dear old tutor, for hours together if I\nhad nothing else to do. He is, I suppose, about sixteen, a most\nloveable boy, gentle, affectionate, with all the tropical softness and\nkindliness.\n\n'We have seven Solomon Islanders--five from Mata, a village at the\nnorth-west of San Cristoval, and two from the south-east point of\nGuadalcanar, or Gera, a magnificent island about twenty-five or twenty\nmiles to the north-west of San Cristoval. From frequent intercourse they\nare almost bilingual, a great \"lounge\" for me, as one language does for\nboth; the structure of the two island tongues is the same, but scarcely\nany words much alike. However, that is not much odds.\n\n'Then from Nengone, where you remember Mr. Nihill died after eighteen\nmonths' residence on the island, we have four men and two women, both\nmarried. Of these, two men and both the women have been baptized, some\ntime ago, by the Bishop, in 1852, and one by the London Mission, who now\noccupy the island. These four I have, with full trust, admitted to the\nHoly Communion. Mr. Nihill had taught them well, and I am sure they\ncould pass an examination in Scriptural history, simple doctrinal\nstatements, &c., as well as most young English people of the middle\nclass of life. The other two are well taught, and one of them knows a\ngreat deal, but, poor fellow, he misconducted himself at Nengone, and\nhence I cannot recommend him to the Bishop for baptism without much talk\nabout him.\n\n'But I think my love is more poured out upon my Bauro and Gera lads.\nThey are such dear fellows, and I trust that already they begin to\nknow something about religion. Certain it is that they answer readily\nquestions and say with their mouths what amounts almost to a statement\nof the most important Christian truths. Of course I cannot tell what\neffect this may have on their hearts. They join in prayer morning and\nevening, they behave admirably, and really there is nothing in their\nconduct to find fault with. If it please God that any of them were at\nsome future time to stay again with us, I have great hopes that they may\nlearn enough to become teachers in their own country.\n\n'The Nengone lads are quite in a different position. Their language has\nbeen reduced to writing, the Gospel of St. Mark translated, and they can\nall read a little English, so that at evening prayers we read a verse\nall round, and then I catechise and expound to them in Nengone.\n\n'I really trust that by God's blessing some real opening into the great\nSolomon group has been effected. There is every hope that many boys will\njoin us this next voyage. No one can say what may be the result. As yet\nit is possible to get on without more help, but I do not for a moment\ndoubt that should God really grant not only a wide field of labour, but\nsome such hope of cultivating it, He will send forth plenty of men to\nshare in this work. Men who have some means of their own--\u00a3100 a year is\nenough, or even less--or some aptitude for languages, surely will feel\ndrawn in this direction. It is the happiest life a man can lead, full of\nenjoyment, physical and mental, exquisite scenery, famous warm\nclimate, lots of bathing, yams and taro and cocoa-nut enough to make an\nalderman's mouth water, and such loving, gentle people. But of course\nsomething depends on the way in which a man looks at these things, and\na fine gentleman who can't get on without his servant, and can't put his\nluggage for four months into a compass of six feet by one-and-a-half,\nwon't like it....\n\n'You know the kind of incidents that occur, so I need not repeat them\nto you. I have quite learnt to believe that there are no \"savages\"\nanywhere, at least among black or coloured people. I'd like to see\nanyone call my Bauro boys savages! Why, the fellows on the reef that\nhave never seen a white man will wade back to the boat and catch one's\narms to prevent one falling into pits among the coral, just like an old\nnurse looking after her child. This they did at Santa Maria, where we\ntwo swam ashore to a party of forty or fifty men, and where our visit\nwas evidently a very agreeable one on both sides, though we did not know\none syllable of the language, and then.... But I almost tremble to think\nof the immense amount of work opening upon one. Whither will it lead?\nBut I seldom find any time for speculations; and oh, my dear tutor, I\nam as happy as the day is long, though it never seems long to me!....\nMy dear father writes in great anxiety about the Denison case. Oh dear!\nwhat a cause of thankfulness it is to be out of the din of controversy,\nand to find hundreds of thousands longing for crumbs which are shaken\nabout so roughly in these angry disputes! It isn't High or Low or Broad\nChurch, or any other special name, but the longing desire to forget all\ndistinctions, and to return to a simpler state of things, that seems\nnaturally to result from the very sight of heathen people. Who thinks of\nanything but this: \"They have not heard the Name of the Saviour Who died\nfor them,\" when he is standing with crowds of naked fellows round him? I\ncan't describe the intense happiness of this life. I suppose trials will\ncome some day, and I almost dread the thought, for I surely shall not be\nprepared to bear them. I have no trials at all, even of a small kind, to\nteach me how to bear up under great ones.'\n\nIn truth Coleridge Patteson had entered on the happiest period of his\nlife. He had found his vocation, and his affections were fastening\nthemselves upon his black flock, so that, without losing a particle\nof his home love, the yearnings homewards were appeased, and the fully\nemployed time, and sense of success and capability, left no space for\nthe self-contemplation and self-criticism of his earlier life. He gives\namusing sketches of the scenes:--\n\n'The donkey here, a fatally stubborn brute, is an unceasing amusement to\nmy boys. No one of them can retain his seat more than ten minutes, but\nthey all fall like cats on their legs amid cries of laughter. The\ndonkey steers straight for some small scrubby trees, and then kicks and\nplunges, or else rubs their legs against the sides of the house, and\nall this time the boys are leaping about the unfortunate fellow who is\nmounted, and the fun is great.\n\n'Wadrokala, one of the Nengone lads, who had recently made his first\ncommunion, became the prominent scholar at this time. He had thought\na good deal. One night he said: \"I have heard all kinds of words\nused--faith, repentance, praise, prayer--and I don't clearly understand\nwhat is the real great thing, the chief thing of all. They used these\nwords confusedly, and I feel puzzled. Then I read that the Pharisees\nknew a great deal of the law, and so did the Scribes, and yet they were\nnot good. I am not doing anything good. Now I know something of the\nBible, and I can write; and I fear very much, I often feel very much\nafraid, that I am not good, I am not doing anything good.\"'\n\nHe was talked to, and comforted with hopes of future work; but a day\nor two later his feelings were unconsciously hurt by being told in joke\nthat he was wearing a shabby pair of trousers to save the good ones to\ntake home to Nengone. His remonstrance was poured out upon a slate:--\n\n'Mr. Patteson, this is my word:--I am unhappy because of the word you\nsaid to me that I wished for clothes. I have left my country. I do not\nseek clothes for the body. What is the use of clothes? Can my spirit be\nclothed with clothes for the body? Therefore my heart is greatly afraid;\nbut you said I greatly wished for clothes, which I do not care for.\nOne thing only I care for, that I may receive the life for my spirit.\nTherefore I fear, I confess, and say to you, it is not the thing for the\nbody I want, but the one thing I want is the clothing for the soul, for\nJesus Christ's sake, our Lord.'\n\nSoon after a very happy Christmas, Wadrokala and Kainwhat expressed a\ndesire, after a final visit to their native island, to return with Mr.\nPatteson, and be prepared to be sent as native teachers to any dark\nland, as the Samoans had come to them.\n\nWadrokala narrated something of the history of his island, a place with\n6,000 inhabitants, with one tribe forming a priestly caste, the head of\nwhich was firmly believed by even these Christian Nengonese to possess\nthe power of striking men dead by his curse. Caroline, Kainwhat and\nKowine were the children of a terrible old chief named Bula, who\nhad fifty-five wives, and whose power was almost absolute. If anyone\noffended him, he would send either a priest or one of his sons to kill\nthe man, and bring the corpse, of which the thighs were always reserved\nfor his special eating, the trunk being given to his slaves. If one\nof his wives offended him, he sent for the high priest, who cursed\nher--simply said, 'She has died,' and die she did. A young girl who\nrefused to marry him was killed and eaten, or if any person omitted to\ncome into his presence crouching, the penalty was to be devoured; in\nfact, he seems to have made excuses for executions in order to gratify\nhis appetite for human flesh, which was considered as particularly\ndainty fare. Everyone dreaded him, and when at last he died a natural\ndeath, his chief wife was strangled by her own brother, as a matter\nof course. Such horrors as these had pretty well ceased by that time,\nthough still many Nengonese were heathen, and the priests were firmly\nbelieved to have the power of producing death and disease at will by\na curse. Wadrokala, with entire conviction, declared that one of his\nfather's wives had thus been made a cripple for life.\n\nNengonese had become almost as familiar to Coley as Maori, and his\nSundays at this time were decidedly polyglot; since, besides a regular\nEnglish service at Taranaki, he often took a Maori service, and preached\nextempore in that tongue, feeling that the people's understanding went\nalong with him; and there were also, in early morning and late evening,\nprayers, partly in Nengonese, partly in Bauro, at the College chapel,\nand a sermon, first in one language, and then repeated in the other. The\nNengone lads, who had the question of adherence to the London Mission\nat home, or the Church in New Zealand, put to them, came deliberately\nto entreat to remain always with Mr. Patteson, saying that they saw that\nthis teaching of the Church was right, and they wished to work in it. It\nwas a difficult point, as the London Mission was reasserting a claim\nto the Loyalty Isles, and the hopes of making them a point d'appui were\nvanishing; but these men and their wives could not but be accepted, and\nSimeona was preparing for baptism. A long letter to Professor Max\nMuller on the languages will be found in the Appendix. The Bishop of New\nZealand thus wrote to Sir John Patteson respecting Coley and his work:--\n\n\n'Taurarua, Auckland: March 2, 1857.\n\n'My dear Judge,--Your letter of December 5 made me very happy, by\nassuring me of the satisfaction which you feel in your son's duties and\nposition. I do indeed most thankfully acknowledge the goodness of God\nin thus giving me timely aid, when I was pledged to a great work, but\nwithout any steady force to carry it on. Coley is, as you say, the right\nman in the right place, mentally and physically: the multiplicity of\nlanguages, which would try most men, is met by his peculiar gift; the\nheat of the climate suits his constitution; his mild and parental temper\nmakes his black boys cling about him as their natural protector; and his\nfreedom from fastidiousness makes all parts of the work easy to him; for\nwhen you have to teach boys how to wash themselves, and to wear clothes\nfor the first time, the romance of missionary work disappears as\ncompletely as a great man's heroism before his valet de chambre.\n\n'On Sunday, February 22, we had a native baptism, an adult from Nengone\nand his infant child. Coley used the Baptismal Service, which he had\ntranslated, and preached fluently in the Nengone tongue, as he had done\nin the morning in New Zealand. The careful study which we had together\nof the latter on our voyage out will be of great use in many other\ndialects, and Mrs. Nihill has given him her husband's Nengone\nmanuscripts.\n\n'You know in what direction my wishes tend, viz., that Coley, when he\nhas come to suitable age, and has developed, as I have no doubt he will,\na fitness for the work, should be the first island Bishop, upon the\nfoundation, of which you and your brother Judge, and Sir W. Farquhar,\nare trustees; that Norfolk Island should be the see of the Bishop,\nbecause the character of its population, the salubrity of its climate,\nand its insular position, make it the fittest place for the purpose.\n\n'Your affectionate and grateful friend,\n\n'G. A. NEW ZEALAND.'\n\n\nBy the same mail Patteson himself wrote to Miss Neill:--\n\n'If it please God to give us some few native teachers from Bauro and\nGrera, not to be sent before, but to go with or follow us (i.e. Bishop\nand me), in a short time the word of God might be heard in many a grand\nwild island, resplendent with everything that a tropical climate and\nprimeval forests, etc., can bestow, and thickly populated with an\nintelligent and, as I imagine, tolerably docile race, of whom some are\nalready \"stretching out their hands unto God.\"\n\n'All these Solomon Islanders here would answer questions about\nChristianity as well, perhaps, as children of nine or ten years old\nin England. Some seem to feel that there is a real connection between\nthemselves and what they are taught, and speak of the love of God in\ngiving Jesus Christ to die for them, and say that God's Holy Spirit\nalone can enlighten their dark hearts.\n\n'That beautiful image of light and darkness seems common to all nations.\nThe regular word used by the Nengone people, who are far more advanced\nin Christian knowledge and practice, for all heathen places is \"the dark\nlands.\"\n\n'On Sunday week, February 22, we had a deeply interesting service in the\nCollege chapel at 7.15 P.M., just as the English world was beginning its\nSunday. Simeona and his infant boy of four weeks and three days old were\nbaptized. The College chapel was nicely lighted, font decorated simply.\nI read the service in Nengone, having had all hands at work setting the\ntypes and printing on Friday and Saturday. The Bishop took the part of\nthe service which immediately precedes the actual baptism, and baptized\nthem both--first the father, by the name of George Selwyn, then the\nbaby, by the name of John Patteson. This was the special request of the\nparents, and as it is my dear Father's name, how could I object? He is,\nof course, my godson, and a dear little fellow he is. At the end of my\nsermon, I added a few words to \"George,\" and besought the prayers of\nthe Nengone people for him and his child. We have now four regular\ncommunicants among them--Wadrokala, Mark (Kainwhat), Carry and Sarah.\nGeorge is baptized, and baby; and Sarah's child, Lizzy, I baptized long\nago. In about two months (D. V.), we are off for a good spell of four\nor five months among the islands, taking back this party, though some of\nthem will, by and by, rejoin us again, I hope.'\n\nThe plan of starting in April for a four or five months' cruise was\ndisconcerted, as regarded Bishop Selwyn, by the delay of Bishop Harper\nand the Archdeacons in arriving for the intended Synod, which was thus\nput off till May, too wintry a month for the Melanesians to spend in New\nZealand. After some doubt, it was decided that Mr. Patteson should make\na short voyage, for the mere purpose of returning his scholars to their\nhomes, come back to Auckland, and make a fresh start when the Bishop was\nready.\n\nIn prospect of the parting, Patteson writes to his beloved old governess\n(March 19, 1857):--\n\n'You will like a report of my pupils, especially as I can give most\nof them a good ticket, little mark and all, as we used to say of yours\n(though not as often as we ought to have done) to our dear mother.\nYou never had such willing pupils, though you turned out some, I hope,\neventually as good. In your hands these lads would be something indeed.\nReally they have no faults that I can detect, and when their previous\nstate is considered, it is wonderful; for all this time they have been\nwith us, the greatest fault has been a fit of sulkiness, lasting\nabout half a day, with three of them. Their affection, gentleness,\nunselfishness, cheerfulness, willingness to oblige, in some of them a\nnatural gentlemanly way of doing things, and sometimes indications of\nwhat we should call high principle--all these things give one great\nhopes, not for them only, but for all these nations, that, refined by\nChristianity, they may be bright examples of manly virtues and Christian\ngraces.'\n\nTo some, no doubt, these expressions will seem exaggerated, but not to\nthose who have had any experience of the peculiar suavity and grace\nthat often is found in the highbred men of native races, before they are\ndebased by the corruptions brought in by white men. Moreover, in every\ncase, the personal influence of the teacher when in immediate contact\nwith a sufficiently small number, is quite enough to infuse good habits\nand obviate evil ones to an extent quite inconceivable to those who have\nnot watched the unconscious exertion of this power. Patteson knew that\ntoo much reliance must not be placed on present appearance.\n\n'It is dangerous (he says), to have persons clinging to you too much. I\nfeel that; but then these fellows, I take it, are very impulsive, and no\ndoubt the cocoanuts in their own land will exercise a counter-influence\nto mine, and so I shall soon be undeceived if I learn to think too much\nof their personal affection; but I never knew such dear lads, I don't\nknow how I shall get on without them.\n\n'You must be looking forward to your spring and summer. How delicious\nsome of those days are in England! We miss the freshness of a deciduous\nfoliage, our evergreens look dull, and we have no deciduous trees as\nyet. A good scamper with Joan on the East Hill, or a drive with Fan in\nthe pony carriage along a lane full of primroses and violets would be\npleasant indeed, and so would a stroll with old Jem up the river be\nhappy indeed, and I could almost quit the \"Southern Cross\" for dear\nFather's quarter-deck in the \"Hermitage,\" but that I am, I believe,\nsailing in the right vessel, and, as I trust, on the right course to the\nhaven where we may all meet and rest for ever.'\n\nOn Good Friday the three Nengone young men who had been baptized were\nconfirmed, and on the Wednesday in Easter Week the 'Southern Cross'\nsailed, this time with a responsible sailing master. At Nengone Mr.\nPatteson had a friendly interview with Mr. Craig, the London Society's\nmissionary, and explained to him the state of things with regard to\nthese individual pupils; then, after being overwhelmed with presents by\nthe Christian population, shaped his course for Bauro.\n\nOn the way he had the experience of a tropical thunderstorm, after\nhaving been well warned by the sinking of the barometer through the\nwhole of the day, the 27th of April. 'At 7.30 the breeze came up, and\nthe big drops began, when suddenly a bright forked flash so sustained\nthat it held its place before our eyes like an immense white-hot crooked\nwire, seemed to fall on the deck, and be splintered there. But one\nmoment and the tremendous crack of the thunder was alive and around\nus, making the masts tremble. For more than an hour the flashes were so\ncontinuous that I think every three seconds we had a perfect view of\nthe whole horizon. I especially remember the firmament between the lurid\nthunder clouds looking quite blue, so intense was the light. The thunder\nrolled on without cessation, but the tremendous claps occurred only at\nintervals. We have no lightning conductor, and I felt somewhat anxious;\nwent below and prayed God to preserve us from lightning and fire, read\nthe magnificent chapter at the end of Job. As the storm went on, I\nthought that at that very hour you were praying \"From lightning and\ntempest, good Lord, deliver us.\" We had no wind: furious rain, repeated\nagain from midnight to three this morning. About eleven the thunder\nhad ceased, but the broad flashes of lightning were still frequent. The\nlightning was forked and jagged, and one remarkable thing was the length\nof time that the line of intense light was kept up, like a gigantic\nfirework, so that the shape of the flash could be drawn with entire\naccuracy by any one that could handle a pencil. It was a grand and\nsolemn sight and sound, and I am very thankful we were preserved from\ndanger, for the storm was right upon us, and the danger must have been\ngreat.'\n\nA ready welcome awaited the 'Southern Cross' at Bauro, in a lovely bay\nhitherto unvisited, where a perfect flotilla of canoes came off to greet\nher, and the two chiefs, Iri and Eimaniaka, came on board, and no less\nthan fifty-five men with them. The chiefs and about a dozen men were\ninvited to spend the night on board. The former lay on the floor of the\ninner cabin, talking and listening while their host set before them some\nof the plain truths of Christianity. He landed next day, and returned\nthe visit by going to Iri's hut, where he pointed to the skulls,\ndiscoursed on the hatefulness of such decorations, and recommended their\nburial. He also had an opportunity of showing a Christian's horror of\nunfilial conduct, when Rimaniaka struck his mother for being slow in\nhanding yams; and when a man begged for a passage to Gera in direct\nopposition to his father's commands, he was dismissed with the words, 'I\nwill have nothing to do with a man who does not obey his own father.'\n\nAt Gera there was also a great assembly of canoes, and as all hands were\nwanted on board, Patteson went ashore in a canoe with the brother of\none of the scholars. He was told that he was the first white man who had\never landed there, and the people showed a good deal of surprise, but\nwere quite peaceable, and the presence of women and children was a sign\nthat there was no danger. When he tried to return to the ship, a heavy\nsea came on, and the canoes were forced to put back, and he thus found\nhimself obliged to spend the night on the island. He was taken into a\nhouse with two rooms, in each of which numbers of men were lying on the\nground, a small wood fire burning in the midst of each group of three or\nfour.\n\nA grass mat was brought him, and a bit of wood for a pillow, and as\nhe was wet through, cold, and very tired, he lay down; but sleep was\nimpossible, from tormenting vermin, as well as because it seemed to be\nthe custom of the people to be going backwards and forwards all night,\nsitting over the fire talking, then dropping asleep and waking to talk\nagain. A yam was brought him after about an hour, and long before dawn\nhe escaped into the open air, and sat over a tire there till at high\ntide, at six o'clock in the morning, he was able to put off again and\nreach the ship, where forty-five natives had slept, and behaved well.\n\n'The sense of cold and dirt and weariness was not pleasing,' he\nconfesses, and certainly the contrast to the Eton and Oxford habits was\ngreat. There was a grand exchange of presents; hatchets, adzes,\nhooks and empty bottles on one side, and a pig and yams on the other.\nImmediately after follows a perilous adventure, which, as we shall find,\nmade a deep impression. It is thus related in a letter for the benefit\nof Thorverton Rectory:--\n\n\n'At Sea: Lat. 19\u00b0 50' S.; long. 167\u00b0 41' E.\n\n'My dearest Uncle,--May is a month specially connected henceforward\nin my mind with a merciful deliverance from great peril, which God\nvouchsafed to us on May 2nd. We touched on a reef at the Isle of\nGuadalcanar, one of the Solomon Islands, in lat. 9\u00b0 50', and but for\nGod's mercy in blessing our exertions, we might have incurred fearful\ndanger of losing the Mission vessel. As it was, in a couple of minutes\nwe were off the reef and in deep safe water--to Him be the praise and\nthe glory! I have written all particulars as usual to my father, and now\nthat the danger has been averted, you will rejoice to hear how great a\ndoor is opened to us in that part of the world. Personal safety ensured,\nand, so far as can be judged of, no apparent obstacle in the way of the\nMission in that quarter. Had this great peril not occurred--and it was\nto human eyes and in human language the mere \"chance\" of a minute--I\nmight have dwelt with too much satisfaction on the bright side of the\npicture. As it is, it is a lesson to me \"to think soberly.\" I can hardly\ntrust myself to write yet with my usual freedom of the scenery, natives,\n&c. One great thought is before me--\"Is it all real that we touched on\nthat reef in the sight of hundreds of natives?\" It was not a sense of\npersonal danger--that could not occur at such a time; but the idea that\nthe vessel might be lost, the missionary operations suspended, &c.; this\nshot through me in those two minutes! But I had no time for more than\nmental prayer, for I was pulling at ropes with all my strength; not\ntill it was all over could I go below and fall on my knees in a burst\nof thanksgiving and praise. We suppose that there must be a very strong\nunder-current near the reef at the mouth of the bay, for the vessel,\ninstead of coming round as usual (and there was abundance of room),\nwould not obey the helm, and we touched an outlying rock before we could\nalter the sails, when she rounded instantly on the other tack. Humanly\nspeaking, she would have come off very soon, as the tide was flowing,\nand she received no damage, as we came very gently against the rock,\nwhich was only about the size of an ordinary table. But it is an event\nto be remembered by me with thankfulness all my life. I think the number\nof natives who had been on deck and about us in canoes that morning\ncould not have been less than 450. They behaved very well. Of the\nfive principal chiefs three could talk some Bauro language, so I could\ncommunicate with them, and this was one reason why I felt satisfied of\ntheir good-will. They gave me two pigs, about 500 or 600 cocoa-nuts,\nand upwards of a ton of yams, though I told them I had only two small\nhatchets, five or six adzes, a few gimlets, and empty bottles to give in\nexchange. If I had not been satisfied of their being quite friendly, I\nwould not have put ourselves so entirely into their power; but it is of\nthe greatest consequence to let the natives of a place see that you\nare not suspicious, and where there is no evident hazard in so doing, I\nthink I ought to act upon it. Perhaps the Bishop, being an older hand at\nit, will think I was rash; but as far as the natives are concerned, the\nresult shows I was quite right; the letting go a kedge in deepish water\nis another matter, that was a mistake I know now. But we could not work\nthe vessel by reason of the crowds of natives, and what was I to do?\nEither not stand close in, as they all expected, or let go a kedge. If I\ndid not go into the mouth of the bay, they would have said, \"He does not\ntrust us,\" and mutual suspicion would have been (possibly) the result,\nand I could not make them understand rightly the reason why I did not\nwant to drop the kedge or small anchor.\n\n'I had slept on shore about three miles up the bay among a number of\nnatives, twenty-five or twenty-six in the same room with me, on the\nprevious evening: at least, I lay down in my things, which, by the bye,\nwere drenched through with salt and rain water. They said I was the\nfirst white person that had been ashore there. They treated me very\nwell. How in the face of all this could I run the risk of letting them\nthink I was unwilling to trust them? So I think still that I was right\nin all but one thing. I ought to have ascertained better the nature\nof the current and the bottom of the harbour, to see if there was good\nholding ground. But it is easier to do those things in an English port\nthan in the sight of a number of natives, and especially when there is\nbut one person able to communicate with the said natives. If I went off\nin the boat sounding, who was to look after the schooner? If I stayed\non board, who was to explain to the natives what was being done in the\nboat? Besides, we have but five men on board, including the master\nand mate, and one of them was disabled by a bad hand, so that if I\nhad manned the boat, I should have left only three able-bodied men on\nboard--it was a puzzle, you see, dear Uncle. Now I have entered into\nthis long defence lest any of you dear ones should think me rash.\nIndeed, I don't want to run any risks at all. But there was no risk\nhere, as I supposed, and had we chosen to go round on the other tack we\nshould have known nothing of a risk now. As it was, we did run a great\nhazard of grounding on the reef, and therefore, Laus Deo.\n\n'Oh! dear little Pena, if you had only seen the village which, as yet,\nI alone of white people have been allowed to see--the great tall\ncocoa-nuts, so tall and slender at the top, that I was almost afraid\nwhen a boy was sent up to gather some nuts for me--the cottages of\nbamboo and cocoa-nut leaves--the great forest trees, the parrots flying\nabout among the branches--the crowd of men and children and a few women\nall looking at, and some talking to the strange chief, \"who had spoken\nthe truth and brought their kinsman as he promised,\"--the sea in the\nharbour shut off by small islets and looking like a beautiful lake with\nhigh wooded and steep banks--the pretty canoes on the beach, and the\ngreat state canoe lying at its stone anchor about fifty yards off, about\nfifty feet long, and inlaid throughout with mother-of-pearl, the spears\nleaning against the houses--men stalking about with a kind of club (the\ngreat chief Puruhanua gave me his);--I think your little head would have\nbeen almost turned crazy....\n\n'June 4th, Auckland.--We reached harbour a week ago in a violent\nsquall of wind and rain at 8.45 P.M. Anxious night after the anchor\nwas dropped, lest the vessel should drag. Nine days coming from Norfolk\nIsland, very heavy weather--no accident, but jib-boom pitched away while\nlying to in a south-easter....\n\n'Your loving nephew,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThe Rev. Benjamin Thornton Dudley, for several years a most valuable\nhelper in the work, both at home and abroad, gives the following account\nof his own share in it, and his recollections of that first year:--\n\n'The first time I ever saw Mr. Patteson was in the beginning of 1856,\nwhen you (this is a letter to Mrs. Selwyn) all visited Lyttelton in\nthe newly arrived \"Southern Cross.\" That indescribable charm of manner,\ncalculated at once to take all hearts by storm, was not perhaps as\nfully developed in him then as afterwards, and my experience was then\ncomparatively limited, yet his words in the sermon he preached on behalf\nof the Melanesian Mission (a kind of historical review of the growth and\nspread of the Gospel), although coming after the wonderful sermon of the\nBishop in the morning, made a deep impression on several of us, myself\namong the number.\n\n'You came to Lyttelton at the end of 1856 again, this time without him,\nand the Bishop brought me up to St. John's College, and placed me under\nhim there. I remember at first how puzzled I felt as to what my position\nwas, and what I was expected to do. Not a single direction was given\nme by Mr. Patteson, nor did he invite me to take a class in the\ncomparatively small Melanesian school. Gradually it dawned upon me that\nI was purposely left there, and that I was expected to offer myself for\nanything I could do. When I offered myself I was allowed to assist in\nthis and that, until at length I fell into my regular place. Although\nthe treatment I received in this respect puzzled me, I felt his great\nkindness from the first. How bright he was in those days, and how\noverflowing with spirits when among the Melanesians. What fun there used\nto be of a morning, when he would come and hunt the lazy ones out of\nbed, drive them down to the bath house, and there assist their ablutions\nwith a few basins of water thrown at them; and what an amount of quiet\n\"chaff\" used to go on at breakfast time about it as we sat with them\nin the great hall, without any of those restraints of the \"high table\"\nwhich were introduced at dinner.\n\n'During the first voyage made that year to return our Melanesian party,\nI think Mr. Patteson was feeling very much out of sorts. I do not\nremember any time during the years in which I was permitted to see so\nmuch of him when he took things so easily. He spoke of himself as lazy,\nand I confess I used to wonder somewhat how it was that he retired so\ncompletely into the cabin, and did apparently so little in the way of\nstudy. He read the \"Heir of Redclyffe,\" and other books of light reading\nin that voyage. I understood better afterwards what, raw youth as I\nwas at the time, puzzled me in one for whom I was already beginning\nto entertain a feeling different from any previously experienced. That\nseems to me now to have been quite a necessary pause in his life after\nhe had with wholeheartedness and full intention given himself to his\nwork, but before he had fully faced all its requirements and had learnt\nto map out his whole time with separate toil.'\n\nSo concluded what may be called the first term of Coley Patteson's\ntutorship of his island boys. His work is perhaps best summed up in this\nsentence in a letter to me from Mrs. Abraham: 'Mr. Patteson's love for\nthem, and his facility in communicating with them in their own tongue,\nmake his dealing with the present set much more intimate and effective\nthan it has ever been before, and their affections towards him are drawn\nout in a lively manner.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII. ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE AND LIFU. 1857-1859.\n\n\n\nIt seems to me that the years between 1856 and 1861 were the very\nbrightest of Coleridge Patteson's life. He had left all for Christ's\nsake and the Gospel's, and was reaping the blessing in its freshness.\nHis struggles with his defects had been successful, the more so\nbecause he was so full of occupation that the old besetting trouble,\nself-contemplation, had been expelled for lack of opportunity; and he\nhad become far more simple, since humility was ceasing to be a conscious\neffort.\n\nThere is a light-heartedness about his letters like that of the old Eton\ntimes. Something might have been owing to the impulse of health, which\nwas due to the tropical heat. Most probably this heat was what exhausted\nhis constitution so early, but at first it was a delightful stimulus,\nand gave him exemption from all those discomforts with which cold had\naffected him at home. This exhilaration bore him over the many trials\nof close contact with uncivilised human nature so completely that his\nfriends never even guessed at his natural fastidiousness. That which\nmight have been selfish in this fastidiousness was conquered, though the\nrefinement remained. Even to the last, in his most solitary hours, this\npersonal neatness never relaxed, but the victory over disgust was a real\ntriumph over self, which no doubt was an element of happiness.\n\nWhile the Bishop continued to go on the voyages with him, he had\ncompanionship, guidance, and comparatively no responsibility, while his\nsuccess, that supreme joy, was wonderfully unalloyed, and he felt\nhis own especial gifts coming constantly into play. His love for his\nscholars was one continual well of delight, and really seemed to be an\nabsolute gift, enabling him to win them over, and compensating for what\nhe had left, even while he did not cease to love his home with deep\ntenderness.\n\nAnother pair of New Zealand friends had to be absent for a time.\nArchdeacon Abraham's arm was so severely injured by an accident with\na horse, that the effects were far more serious than those of a common\nfracture. The disaster took place in Patteson's presence. 'I shall never\nforget,' writes his friend, 'his gentleness and consideration as he\nfirst laid me down in a room and then went to tell my wife.'\n\nIt was found necessary to have recourse to English advice; the\nArchdeacon and Mrs. Abraham went home, and were never again residents at\nAuckland.\n\nA letter to Mr. Justice Coleridge was written in the interval between\nthe voyages:--\n\n\n'Auckland: June 12, 1857.\n\n'My dear Uncle,--You will not give me credit for being a good\ncorrespondent, I fear; but the truth is that I seldom find time to\ndo more than write long chatty letters to my dear father and sisters,\noccasionally to Thorverton, and to Miss Neill and one or two others to\ncheer them in their sickness and weariness. Any news from afar may be a\nreal relaxation.\n\n'For myself I need only say that I find these dear people most\nattractive and winning, that it is no effort to love them, that they\ndisplay all natural gifts in a remarkable way--good temper, affection,\ngentleness, obedience, gratitude, &c., occasionally real self-restraint.\nDear Hirika's last words to me at San Cristoval were, \"Oh, I do love you\nso,\" and his conduct showed it. He is a bright handsome lad, clever\nbut inaccurate, of most sweet disposition. In matters of personal\ncleanliness, healthy appearance, &c., the change in seven months\nwas that of a lad wholly savage becoming neat, tidy in dress, and of\ngentlemanly appearance. In some ways he was my pet of the whole party,\nthough I have equally bright hopes of Grariri, a sturdy, honest fellow\nwith the best temper I almost ever found among lads of sixteen anywhere,\nand Kerearua is the most painstaking fellow of the lot; and a boy whose\ndistinguishing features it would be hard to describe; but he may be\nsummed up as a very good boy, and certainly a most loveable one. Sumaro\nand Kimarua older and less interesting.\n\n'I printed short catechisms, a translation of the Lord's Prayer, Creed,\nGeneral Confession, two or three other of the Common Prayer prayers, and\none or two short missionary prayers in the dialect of both islands; but\nI can only speak at all fluently the language of San Cristoval.\n\n'Of the Nengone people I could say much more. The two young women\n(married) and the two young unmarried men had been under Mr. Nihill's\ninstruction two or three years, baptized, and were regular communicants\nwhile at the College. Simeona was baptized on the same day as his infant\nson, after he had been with us five months. He and the other four were\nconfirmed at the College chapel, and he afterwards received the Holy\nCommunion with the rest.\n\n'Kowine, a lad of seventeen, is not baptized, though well instructed. We\nwere not wholly satisfied about him. Of the knowledge of them all I can\nspeak with the utmost confidence. They know more a great deal than most\ncandidates for confirmation in a well-regulated English parish. It was\ndelightful to work with them. We wrote Bible history, which has reached\nabout fifty sheets in MS. in small handwriting, bringing the history\nto the time of Joshua; very many questions and answers, and translated\nninety pages of the Prayer Book, including Services for Infant and Adult\nBaptism, Catechism, Burial Service, &c.\n\n'It is most interesting work, though not easy, and much of it will no\ndoubt be altered when we come to know the language thoroughly well. This\nisland of Nengone (called also Maro and Britannia Island) contains\nabout 6,500 inhabitants, of whom some profess Christianity, while the\nremainder are still fighting and eating one another, though accessible\nto white people.\n\n'We hope to have time to see something of the heathen population, though\nthe London Mission Society having re-occupied the island, we do not\nregularly visit it with the intention of establishing ourselves.... The\nlanguage is confined to that island. I call it language, not dialect,\nfor it is, I believe, really distinct from any others we have or have\nheard of, very soft, like Italian, and capable of expressing accurately\nminute shades of meaning. Causative forms, &c., remind us of the\noriental structure, one peculiarity (that of the chief's dialect, or\nalmost language, running parallel to that of common life) I think I have\nbefore mentioned.\n\n'In about a month I suppose we shall be off again for three or four\nmonths, and we long to get hold of pupils from the Banks Archipelago,\nSanta Cruz, Espiritu Santo, in which no ground is broken at present. We\nvisited them last year, but did not get any pupils; lovely islands, very\npopulous, and the natives very bright, intelligent-looking. But how I\nlong to see again some of my own dear boys, I do so think of them! It\nmay be that two or three of them may come again to us, and then we may\nperhaps hope that they may learn enough to be really useful to their own\npeople.... Dear uncle, I should indeed rejoice much to see my dear, dear\nfather and sisters and Jem and all of you if it came in the way of one's\nbusiness, but I think, so long as I am well, that the peculiar nature of\nthis work must require the constant presence of one personally known to,\nand not only officially connected with, the natives. While I feel very\nstrongly that in many ways intercourse occasionally resumed with the\nhome clergy must be very useful to us, yet if you can understand that\nthere is no one to take one's place, you see how very unlikely it must\nbe that I can move from this hemisphere. I say \"if you can understand,\"\nfor it does seem sad that one should really be in such a position that\none's presence should be of any consequence; but, till it please God\nthat the Bishop shall receive other men for this Mission, there is no\nother teacher for these lads, and so we must rub on and do the best\nwe can. Of course I should be most thankful, most happy if, during his\nlifetime, I once more found myself at home, but I don't think much nor\nspeculate about it, and I am very happy, as I am well and hearty. You\nwon't suspect me of any lessening of strong affection for all that\nsavours of home. I think that I know every face in Alfington and in\nFeniton, and very many in Ottery as of old; I believe I think of all\nwith increasing affection, but while I wonder at it, I must also confess\nthat I can and do live happy day after day without enjoying the sight of\nthose dear faces.\n\n'Always your affectionate and grateful nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nAs soon as the 'Southern Cross' had carried Bishop Harper back to\nLyttelton, the Melanesian voyage was recommenced, this time with a\nvaluable assistant in Mr. Benjamin Dudley. Mrs. Selwyn was again dropped\nat Norfolk Island, and five young Pitcairners were taken on board to\nserve as a boat's crew, and also to receive instruction.\n\nThis was a more extensive voyage than the first, as more time could be\nspent on it, but there is less full description, as there was less time\nfor writing; and besides, these coral islands are much alike. Futuma was\nthe first new island visited:--\n\n'The canoes did not venture to come off to us, so we went ashore in\nthe boat, Bishop and I wading ankle-deep to the beach. Forty or fifty\nnatives under a deep overhanging rock, crouching around a fire, plenty\nof lads and boys, no women. Some Tanna men in the group, with their\nfaces painted red and black, hair (as you know) elaborately frizzled and\ndressed with coral lime. The Futuma people speak a different language\nfrom those of Anaiteum, and the Tanna people speak a third (having,\nmoreover, four dialects of their own). These three islands are all in\nsight of each other. Tanna has an active volcano, now smoking away, and\nis like a hot-bed, wonderfully fertile. People estimate its population\nat 10,000, though it is not very large,--about thirty miles long. At\nFutuma, the process by which these coral islands have been upheaved is\nwell seen. The volcanic rocks are lying under the coral, which has been\ngradually thrust upwards by them. As the coral emerged, the animal went\non building under water, continually working lower and lower down upon\nand over the volcanic formation, as this heaved in its upward course the\ncoral formation out of the sea.'\n\nErromango was occupied by the Scottish Mission, and Mr. Gordon was then\nliving there in peace and apparent security, when a visit was paid to\nhim, and Patteson gathered some leaves in Dillon's Bay, the spot where\nJohn Williams met his death sixteen years before, not, as now was\nunderstood, because he was personally disliked, but because he was\nunconsciously interfering with a solemnity that was going on upon the\nbeach.\n\nAt Fate Isle, the people were said to be among the wildest in those\nseas. When the 'Royal Sovereign' was wrecked, they had killed the whole\ncrew, nineteen in number, eaten ten at once, and sent the other nine\nas presents to their friends. Very few appeared, but there was a good\n'opening' exchange of presents.\n\nA great number of small islets lie around Fate, forming part of the\ncluster of the New Hebrides, The Bishop had been at most of them before,\nand with a boat's crew of three Pitcairners and one English sailor,\nstarting early and spending all day in the boat, he and Patteson\ntouched at eleven in three days, and established the first steps to\ncommunication by obtaining 127 names of persons present, and making\ngifts. These little volcanic coral isles were all much alike, and\nnothing remarkable occurred but the obtaining two lads from Mai, named\nPetere and Laure, for a ten months' visit. Poor fellows, they were very\nsea-sick at first, and begged to go home again, but soon became very\nhappy, and this connection with Petere had important consequences in\nthe end. These lads spoke a language approaching Maori, whereas the Fate\ntongue prevailed in the other isles.\n\nAt Mallicolo, on August 20, a horrible sight presented itself to the\neyes of the two explorers when they walked inland with about eighteen\nmost obliging and courteous natives--an open space with four hollowed\ntrunks of trees surrounding two stones, the trees carved into the shape\nof grotesque human heads, and among them, a sort of temple, made of\nsloping bamboos and pandanus leaves meeting at the top, from whence\nhung a dead man, with his face painted in stripes of red and yellow,\nprocured, it was thought, from the pollen of flowers. There was not\nenough comprehension of the language to make out the meaning of all\nthis.\n\nAmbrym, the next island, was more than usually lovely, and was destined\nto receive many more visits. The women made their approach crawling,\nsome with babies on their backs. Whitsuntide, where the casks had to be\nfilled with water, showed a great number of large, resolute-looking men,\nwhose air demanded caution; 'but,' says the journal, 'practice makes\nperfect, and we get the habit of landing among strangers, the knack\nof managing with signs and gesticulations, and the feeling of ease\nand confidence which engenders confidence and good-will in the others.\nQuarrels usually arise from both parties being afraid and suspicious of\neach other.'\n\nLeper's Isle owes its unpleasant name to its medicinal springs. It is a\nparticularly beautiful place, containing a population of good promise.\nThree landings were made there, and at the fourth place Patteson jumped\nashore on a rock and spent some time in calming the fears of a party of\nnatives who had been frightened in their canoe by the boat under\nsail overtaking them. 'They fingered bows and arrows, but only from\nnervousness,' he says. However, they seem to have suspected the visitors\nof designs on their load of fine taro, and it was some time before the\nowner would come out and resume it. On all these isles the plan could\nas yet only be to learn names and write them down, so as to enquire\nfor acquaintance next time, either make presents, or barter them for\nprovisions, discover the class of language, and invite scholars for\nanother time.\n\nSo at Star Island three or four natives said, 'In ten moons you two come\nback; very good, then we go with you.' 'I think,' Patteson tells his\nsisters, 'you would have liked to have seen me, standing on a rock, with\nmy two supporters, two fine young men, who will I trust go with us next\ntime, my arms round their necks, and a fine background of some thirty\nor forty dark figures with bows and arrows, &c., and two or three little\nrogues, perched on a point of rock above me, just within reach,\nasking for fish-hooks.' He says it in all simplicity, but the picture\npresupposes some strength of mind in the sisters who were to appreciate\nit.\n\nFew natives appeared at Espiritu Santo, and the vessel passed on to\nOanuta or Cherry Island, where the Bishop had never been, and where\na race of dull, good-natured giants was found. The chief was a\nnoble-looking man with an aquiline nose, and seemed to have them well\nunder command, and some of the younger men, who had limbs which might\nhave been a model for a sculptor, could have lifted an ordinary-sized\nEnglishman as easily as a child. They were unluckily already acquainted\nwith whalers, whom they thought the right sort of fellows, since they\nbrought tobacco and spirits, did not interfere with native habits,\nnor talk of learning, for which the giants saw no need. The national\ncomplexion here was of a lighter yellow, the costume a tattooed chest,\nthe language akin to Maori; and it was the same at Tikopia, where four\nchiefs, one principal one immensely fat, received their visitors seated\non a mat in the centre of a wide circle formed by natives, the innermost\nseated, the others looking over them. These, too, were accustomed to\nwhalers, and when they found that pigs and yams in exchange for spirits\nand tobacco were not the object, they were indifferent. They seemed to\ndespise fish-hooks, and it was plain that they had even obtained muskets\nfrom the whalers, for there were six in the chiefs house, and one was\nfired, not maliciously but out of display. The Bishop told them his\nobject, and they understood his language, but were uninterested. The fat\nchief regaled the two guests with a cocoa-nut apiece, and then seemed\nanxious to be rid of them.\n\nThe Banks Islands, as usual, were much more hopeful, Santa Maria coming\nfirst. Canoes came round the vessel, and the honesty of the race showed\nitself, for one little boy, who had had a fish-hook given him, wished to\nexchange it for calico, and having forgotten to restore the hook at\nthe moment, swam back with it as soon as he remembered it. There was a\nlanding, and the usual friendly intercourse, but just as the boat had\nput off, a single arrow was suddenly shot out of the bush, and fell\nabout ten yards short. It was curious that the Spanish discoverers\nhad precisely the same experience. It was supposed to be an act of\nindividual mischief or fun, and the place obtained the appropriate name\nof Cock Sparrow Point.\n\nIt was not possible to get into the one landing-place in the wall round\nMota's sugar-loaf, but there was an exchange of civilities with the\nSaddleites, and in Vanua Lava, the largest member of the group, a\nbeautiful harbour was discovered, which the Bishop named Port Patteson,\nafter the Judge.\n\nThe Santa Cruz group was visited again on the 23rd of September. Nothing\nremarkable occurred; indeed, Patteson's journal does not mention these\nplaces, but that of the Bishop speaks of a first landing at Nukapu, and\nan exchange of names with the old chief Acenana; and the next day of\ngoing to the main island, where swarms of natives swam out, with cries\nof Toki, toki, and planks before them to float through the surf.\nAbout 250 assembled at the landing place, as before, chiefly eager for\ntraffic. The Volcano Isle was also touched at, but the language of the\nfew inhabitants was incomprehensible. The mountain was smoking, and\nred-hot cinders falling as before on the steep side. It was tempting to\nclimb it and investigate what probably no white man had yet seen, but it\nwas decided to be more prudent to abstain.\n\nSome events of the visit to Bauro are related in the following letter to\nthe young cousin whose Confirmation day had been notified to him in time\nto be thought of in his prayers:--\n\n\n'Off San Cristoval: October 5, 1857.\n\n'My dearest Pena,--It was in a heathen land, among a heathen people,\nthat I passed the Sunday--a day most memorable in your life--on which\nI trust you received for the first time the blessed Sacrament of our\nSaviour's Body and Blood.\n\n'My darling--, as I knelt in the chiefs house, upon the mat which was\nalso my bed--the only Christian in that large and beautiful island--my\nprayers were, I hope, offered earnestly that the full blessedness of\nthat heavenly Union with the Lord Jesus Christ, and in Him with the\nFather and the Holy Ghost, might rest upon you for ever. I had\nreckoned upon being on board that Sunday, when the Holy Eucharist\nwas administered on board our vessel; but as we reached Mwaata, our\nwell-known village at San Cristoval, on Saturday, we both agreed that\nI had better go ashore while the vessel went away, to return for me on\nMonday. My day was now passed strangely enough, my first Sunday in a\nland where no Sunday is known.\n\n'It was about 3 P.M. on Saturday when I landed, and it was an effort to\nhave to talk incessantly till dark. Then the chief Iri went with me\nto his house. It is only one oblong room, with a bamboo screen running\nhalfway across it about half-way down the room. It is only made of\nbamboo at the sides, and leaves for the roof. Yams and other vegetables\nwere placed along the sides. There is no floor, but one or two grass\nmats are placed on the ground to sleep on. Iri and his wife, and an\norphan girl about fourteen or fifteen, I suppose, slept on the other\nside of the screen; and two lads, called Grariri and Parenga, slept on\nmy side of it. I can't say I slept at all, for the rats were so very\nmany, coming in through the bamboo on every side, and making such a\nnoise I could not sleep, though tired. They were running all about me.\n\n'Well, at daylight I sent Gariri to fetch some water, and shaved and\nwashed, to the great admiration of Iri and the ladies, and of others\nalso, who crowded together at the hole which serves for door and\nwindows. I lay down in my clothes, all but my coat, but I took a razor\nand some soap ashore.\n\n'Sunday was spent in going about to different neighbouring settlements,\nand climbing the coral rocks was hard work, the thermometer at sea being\n85\u00b0 in the cool cabin, as the Bishop told me to-day.\n\n'Of course many people were at work in the yam grounds, several of which\nI saw; but I found considerable parties at the different villages, and\nhad, on the whole, satisfactory conversations with them. They listened\nand asked questions, and I told them as well as I could the simplest\ntruths of Christianity.\n\n'I had a part of a yam and drank four cocoa-nuts during the day, besides\neating some mixture of yam, taro, and cocoa-nut all pounded together.\n\n'People offered me food and nuts everywhere. Walked back with a boy\ncalled Tahi for my guide, and stopped at several plantations, and talked\nwith the people.\n\n'Sat out in the cool evening on the beach at Mwaata, after much talk\nin a chiefs house called Tarua; people came round me on the beach, and\nagain I talked with them (a sort of half-preaching, half-conversing\nthese talks were), till Iri said we must go to bed. Slept a little that\nnight.\n\n'I can truly say that you were in my head all day. After my evening\nprayers, when I thought of you--for it was about 9 P.M. = 10.10 A.M.\nwith you, and you were on your way to church--I thought of you, kneeling\nbetween your dear mamma and grandmamma, and dear grandpapa administering\nto his three beloved ones the Bread of Life, and I was very happy as I\nthought of it, for I trust, through the mercy of God, and the merits of\nour Lord, that we shall be by Him raised at the Last Day to dwell with\nHim for ever. But indeed I must not write to you how very unworthy I\nfelt to belong to that little company.\n\n'This morning about eleven the vessel's boat came off for me, with the\nBishop. I had arranged about some lads coming on with us, and it ended\nin seven joining our party. Only one of our old scholars has come again:\nhe is that dear boy Grariri, whose name you will remember.\n\n'Now I have had a good change of shirts, etc., and feel clean and\ncomfortable, though I think a good night's rest will do me no harm. I\nhave written to you the first minute that I had time. What a blessed,\nhappy day it must have been for you, and I am sure they thought of you\nat Feniton.\n\n'Your loving cousin,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThis strange Sunday was spent in conversation with different sets of\nnatives, and that some distinct ideas were conveyed was plain from what\nold Iri was overheard saying to a man who was asking him whether he had\nnot a guest who spoke Bauro: 'Yes,' said Iri, adding that 'he said men\nwere not like dogs, or pigs, or birds, or fishes, because these cannot\nspeak or think. They all die, and no one knows anything more about them,\nbut he says we shall not die like that, but rise up again.'\n\nOn Monday, the 7th of October, Grera was revisited, and Toto, a last\nyear's scholar, came forth with his welcome in a canoe; but it was\nrather a mixed success, for the danger of the vessel on her previous\nvisit was a warning against bringing her into the harbour, where there\nwas no safe anchorage, and this disappointed the people. Thirteen,\nindeed, slept on board, and the next morning sixty canoes surrounded\nthe vessel, and some hundred and sixty came on deck at once; but they\nbrought only one pig and a few yams, and refused to fetch more, saying\nit was too far--a considerable inconvenience, considering the necessity\nof providing the Melanesian passengers with vegetable food. The whole\nnine slept in the inner cabin, Orariri on Patteson's sofa, 'feet to\nfeet, the others on the floor like herrings in a barrel.'\n\nThe great island of New Caledonia was next visited. The Bishop had been\nthere before, and Basset, one of the chiefs, lamented that he had been\nso long absent, and pleaded hard to have an English missionary placed in\nhis part of the country. It was very sad to have no means of complying\nwith the entreaty, and the Bishop offered him a passage to Auckland,\nthere to speak for himself. He would have come, but that it was the\nseason for planting his yams; but he hoped to follow, and in the\nmeantime sent a little orphan named Kanambat to be brought up at\nAuckland. The little fellow was pleased enough with the ship at first,\nbut when his countrymen who had been visiting there left her, he jumped\noverboard and was swimming like a duck after them, when, at a sign from\nthe Bishop, one of the Pitcairners leapt after him, and speedily brought\nhim back. He soon grew very happy and full of play and fun, and was well\noff in being away from home, for the French were occupying the island,\nand poor Basset shortly after was sent a prisoner to Tahiti for refusing\nto receive a Roman Catholic priest.\n\nNengone were reached on October 23, and most of the old scholars were\nready with a warm welcome; but Mr. Creagh, the London missionary, had\ntaken Wadrokala away with him on an expedition, and of the others, only\nKowine was ready to return, though the two married couples were going\non well, and one previous scholar of the Bishop's and four new\nones presented themselves as willing to go. Urgent letters from the\nneighbouring isle of Lifu entreated the Bishop to come thither, and,\nwith a splendid supply of yams, the 'Southern Cross' again set sail,\nand arrived on the 26th. This island had entirely abandoned heathenism,\nunder the guidance of the Samoans. The people felt that they had come to\nthe end of the stock of teaching of these good men, and entreated for an\nEnglishman from the Bishop, and thus, here was the third island in this\none voyage begging for a shepherd, and only one English priest had been\nfound to offer himself to that multitude of heathen!\n\nThe only thing that could be done was to take John Cho, a former St.\nJohn's scholar, to receive instruction to fit him for a teacher, and\nwith him came his young wife Naranadune, and their babe, whom the Bishop\nhad just baptized in the coral-lime chapel, with three other children.\n\nThe next few days were spent in great anxiety for Wailumai, a youth\nfrom Grera, who was taken ill immediately after dinner with a most\ndistressing difficulty of breathing. He proved to have a piece of sugar\ncane in his throat, which made every breath agony, and worked a small\nulcer in the throat. All through the worst Patteson held him in his\narms, with his hand on his chest: several times he seemed gone, and\nammonia and sal volatile barely revived him. His first words after he\nwas partially relieved were, 'I am Bishop! I am Patihana!' meaning that\nhe exchanged names with them, the strongest possible proof of affection\nin Melanesian eyes. He still seemed at the point of death, and they made\nhim say, 'God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost! Jesus\nChrist, Son of God.' At last a favourable change took place, but he\ncontinued so ill for several days that his two attendants never did more\nthan lie down in their clothes; nor was it till the third day that he\nat length coughed up the piece of cane that had caused the mischief. He\nstill required so much care that Patteson did not go on shore at Norfolk\nIsland when the five Pitcairners were exchanged for Mrs. Selwyn.\n\nOn November 15 Auckland harbour was again reached after this signally\nprosperous voyage. It is thus summed up in a letter written two days\nlater:--\n\n\n'November 17, 1857: St. John's College.\n\n'My dear Miss Neill,--Thanks for your \u00a321. 2s., and more thanks still\nfor your prayers and constant interest in this part of the world. After\nnearly seventeen weeks at sea, we returned safely on Sunday morning\nthe 15th, with thirty-three Melanesians, gathered from nine islands and\nspeaking eight languages. Plenty of work for me: I can teach tolerably\nin three, and have a smattering of one or two more.\n\n'One is the wife of a young man, John Cho, an old scholar baptized. His\nhalf-brother is chief of Lifu Isle, a man of great influence. The London\nMission (Independents) are leaving all their islands unprovided with\nmissionaries, and these people having been much more frequently visited\nby the Bishop than by the \"John Williams,\" turn to him for help. By and\nby I will explain all this: at present no time.\n\n'We visited sixty-six islands and landed eighty-one times, wading,\nswimming, &c.; all most friendly and delightful; only two arrows shot\nat us, and only one went near--so much for savages. I wonder what people\nought to call sandal-wood traders and slave-masters if they call my\nMelanesians savages.\n\n'You will hear accounts of the voyage from Fanny. I have a long journal\ngoing to my father, but I can't make time to write at length any more.\nI am up before five and not in bed before eleven, and you know I must be\nlazy sometimes. It does me good. Oh! how great a trial sickness would be\nto me! In my health now all seems easy. Were I circumstanced like you,\nhow much I should no doubt repine and murmur. God has given me hitherto\na most merciful share of blessings, and my dear father's cordial\napprobation of and consent to my proceedings is among the greatest....\n\n'The anniversary of my dear mother's death comes round in ten days. That\nis my polar star (humanly speaking), and whensoever it pleases God to\ntake my dear dear father to his rest, how blessed to think of their\nwaiting for us, if it be His merciful will to bring me too to dwell\nbefore Him with them for ever.\n\n'I must end, for I am very busy. The weather is cold, and my room full\nof lads and young men. If I was not watching like a cat they would be\nstanding about in all sorts of places and catching cold.\n\n'I send you in a box, a box made by Pitcairners of Pitcairn woods.\n\n'Ever your loving old pupil,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe little New Caledonian remained at Taurarua with the Bishop, and as\nthere was no woman at St. John's to take the charge of Cho's wife, she\nwas necessarily sent to Mrs. Kissling's school for Maori girls, while\nher husband pursued his studies at St. John's.\n\nPatteson often gave his services at the Maori village of Orakei, where\nthere was to be a central native school managed by Pirimona (Philemon),\na well-trained man, a candidate for Holy Orders.\n\n'However, this did not satisfy his countrymen. As if I had not enough to\ndo, old Wi comes with a request from the folks at Orakei that I would be\ntheir \"minita,\" and take the management of the concern. Rather rich, is\nit not? I said, of course, that I was minita for the islanders. \"Oh, let\nthe Bishop take another man for that, you are the minister for us.\" He\nis, you know, wonderfully tatooed, and a great object of curiosity to\nthe boys!\n\nBefore many days had passed, there had occurred the first case of that\nfatal tetanus, which became only too well known to those concerned in\nthe Mission. Of course, all weapons were taken from the scholars; but\none of the San Cristoval boys, named Tohehammai, fetched one of his own\narrows out of Mr. Dudley's room to exchange with an English lad for a\nshirt, and as he was at play, carrying the arrow in his left hand behind\nhis back and throwing a stick like a spear with the other, he sharply\npricked his right arm, within the elbow, against the point of the arrow;\nbut thinking nothing of the hurt, and knowing that the weapons were\nforbidden playthings, he said nothing for twelve days, but then\ncomplained of stiffness in the arm. Two doctors happened to be at the\ncollege that day; one thought it rheumatism, the other mentioned the\nword tetanus, but for three days more the arm was merely stiff, it\nwas hung in a sling, and the boy went about as usual, until, on the\nfifteenth day, spasmodic twitchings in the arm came on.\n\nLiniment of chloroform was rubbed in, and the boy was kept under\nchloroform, but in vain; the next day his whole body was perfectly\nrigid, with occasional convulsions. About 4 p.m. his throat had become\ncontracted, and the endeavour to give him nourishment brought on\nconvulsive attacks. The Bishop came at 8. p.m., and after another\nattempt at giving him food, which produced a further spasm, he was lying\nquietly when Patteson felt his pulse stop.\n\n'\"He is dying!\" the Bishop said. '\"Father, into Thy hands we commend his\nspirit.\"'\n\nPatteson's 'Amen' came from his heart. The poor fellow made no sound\nas he lay with his frame rigid, his back arched so that an arm could\nbe thrust under it. He was gone in that moment, unbaptized. Patteson\nwrites:--\n\n'I had much conflict with myself about it. He had talked once with me in\na very hopeful way, but during his illness I could not obtain from him\nany distinct profession of faith, anything to make me feel pretty sure\nthat some conviction of the truth of what he he had been taught, and not\nmere learning by rote, was the occasion of his saying what he did say. I\ndid wish much that I might talk again with the Bishop about it, but his\ndeath took us by surprise. I pray God that all my omission and neglect\nof duty may be repaired, and that his very imperfect and unconscious\nyearnings after the truth may be accepted for Christ's sake.'\n\nThe arrow was reported to have been poisoned, but by the time the cause\nof the injury had been discovered it had been thrown away and could not\nbe recovered for examination. Indeed, lockjaw seems to be so prevalent\nin the equatorial climates, and the natives so peculiarly liable to it,\nthat poison did not seem needful to account for the catastrophe.\n\nAltogether, these lads were exotics in New Zealand, and exceedingly\nfragile. In the very height of summer they had to wear corduroy\ntrousers, blue serge shirts, red woollen comforters, and blue Scotch\ncaps, and the more delicate a thick woollen jersey in addition; and with\nall these precautions they were continually catching cold, or getting\ndisordered, and then the Bauro and Grera set could only support such\ntreatment as young children generally need. The Loyalty Islanders were\nmuch tougher and stronger and easier to treat, but they too showed that\nthe climate of Auckland was a hard trial to their constitutions.\n\nOn the last day of March came tidings of the sudden death of the\nmuch-beloved and honoured Dr. James Coleridge of Thorverton.\n\n'It is a great shock,' says the letter written the same day; 'not that\nI feel unhappy exactly, nor low, but that many many memories are revived\nand keep freshening on my mind.... And since I left England his warm,\nloving, almost too fond letters have bound me very closely to him,\nand sorely I shall miss the sight of his handwriting; though he may be\nnearer to me now than before, and his love for me is doubtless even more\npure and fervent.\n\n'I confess I had thought sometimes that if it pleased God to take you\nfirst, the consciousness that he would be with you was a great comfort\nto me--not that any man is worth much then. God must be all in all. But\nyet he of all men was the one who would have been a real comfort to you,\nand even more so to others.' To his cousin he writes:--\n\n\n'Wednesday in Passion Week, 1858: St. John's College.\n\n'My dearest Sophy,--Your letter with the deep black border was the first\nthat I opened, with trembling hand, thinking: \"Is it dear dear Uncle\ngone to his eternal rest; or dear Aunty? not that dear child, may God\ngrant; for that would somehow seem to all most bitter of all--less, so\nto speak, reasonable and natural.\" And he is really gone; that dear,\nloving, courageous, warm-hearted servant of Christ; the desire of our\neyes taken away with a stroke. I read your letter wondering that I was\nnot upset, knelt down and said the two prayers in the Burial Service,\nand then came the tears; for the memory of him rose up very vividly\nbefore me, and his deep love for me and the notes of comfort and\nencouragement he used to write were very fresh in my mind. I looked\nat the print of him, the one he sent out to me, with \"your loving old\nUncle\" in pencil on it. I have all his letters: when making a regular\nclearance some months ago, I could not tear up his, although dangerous\nones for me to read unless used as a stimulant to become what he thought\nme. His \"Jacob\" sermon in his own handwriting, I have by me. But more\nthan all, the memory of his holy life, and his example as a minister of\nChrist, have been left behind for us as a sweet, undying fragrance;\nhis manner in the sick-room--I see him now, and hear that soft, steady,\nclear voice repeating verses over my dear mother's death-bed; his\nkindly, loving ways to his poor people; his voice and look in the\npulpit, never to be forgotten. I knew I should never see him again in\nthis world. May God of His mercy take me to be with him hereafter.\n\n'Thank you, dear Sophy, for writing to me; every word about him is\nprecious, from his last letter to me:--\n\n'\"You will believe how sweet it is to me every month now to give the\nHoly Eucharist to my three dear ones.\"\n\n'\"All complaints of old men must be serious.\"\n\n'I wish I had more time to write, but I am too busy in the midst of\nschool, and printing Scripture histories and private prayers, and\ntranslations in Nengone, Bauro, Lifu; and as all my time out of school\nis spent in working in the printing office, I really have not a minute\nunoccupied. With one exception, I have scarcely ever taken an hour's\nwalk for some six weeks. A large proportion of the printing is actually\nset up by my own fingers; but now one Nengone lad, the flower of my\nflock, can help me much--a young man about seventeen or eighteen,\nof whom I hope very much--Malo, baptized by the name of Harper, an\nexcellent young man, and a great comfort to me. He was setting up in\ntype a part of the little book of private prayers I am now printing for\nthem. I had just pointed out to him the translation of what would be in\nEnglish--\"It is good that a man as he lies down to sleep should remember\nthat that night he may hear the summons of the Angel of God; so then let\nhim think of his death, and remember the words of St. Paul: 'Awake, thou\nthat sleepest,'\" etc.; when in came the man whom the Archdeacon left\nin charge here with my letters. \"I hope, sir, there is no bad news for\nyou;\" and my eye lighted on the deep black border of your envelope.\n\n'To-morrow, if I live, I enter upon my thirty-second year--a solemn\nwarning I have received to-day, as another year is passing from me. May\nsome portion of his spirit rest on me to bless my poor attempt to\ndo what he did so devotedly for more than forty years: his duty as a\nsoldier and servant of his Lord and Master, into whose joy he has no\ndoubt now entered.\n\n'Easter Day.--What an Easter for him! and doubtless we all who will by\nand by, as the world rolls round, receive the Holy Eucharist shall be in\nsome way united to him as well as to all departed saints--members of His\nMystical Body.\n\n'April 12.--Bishop came out yesterday afternoon from Auckland. After\nbaptisms at 5, and evening service at 7, sat till past 11 settling\nplans: thus, God willing, start this day fortnight to return the\nboys--this will occupy about two months; as we come back from the far\nnorth, he will drop one at Lifu, one of the Loyalty Islands, with large\npopulation; he will go on to New Zealand, stay perhaps six weeks in New\nZealand, or it may be two months; so that with the time occupied by his\nvoyage from Lifu to New Zealand, 1,000 miles and back, he will be away\nfrom Lifu about two and a half or three months. Then, picking me up\n(say about September 12), we go on at once to the whole number of our\nislands, spending three months or so among them, getting back to New\nZealand about the end of November. So that I shall be in Melanesia,\nD.V., from the beginning of May to the end of November. I shall be able\nto write once more before we start--letters which you will get by the\nJune mail from Sydney--and of course I shall send letters by the Bishop\nwhen he leaves me at Lifu. But I shall not be able to hear again from\nEngland till the Bishop comes to pick me up in September. Never mind. I\nshall have plenty to do; and I can think of those dear ones at home, and\nof you all, in God's keeping, with perfect comfort. The Lifu people are\nin a more critical state than any others just now, otherwise I\nshould probably stop at San Cristoval. A few years ago they were very\nwild--cannibals of course; but they are now building chapels, and\nthirsting for the living waters. What a privilege and responsibility\nto go to them as Christ's minister, to a people longing for the glad\ntidings of the Gospel of Peace. Samoan teachers have been for a good\nmany years among them.\n\n'I cannot write now to dearest Aunty or Pena.\n\n'May God bless you and abundantly comfort you.... I think I see his dear\nface. I see him always.\n\n'Your loving cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nCho's wife had arrived in a cart at the College when her baby was a day\nold, so rapid is recovery with mothers in those climates. 'I saw the\nbaby,' observes the journal, quite strong, not dark,--but I don't care\nfor them till they can talk; on the contrary, I think them a great bore,\nespecially in wooden houses, where a child with good lungs may easily\nsucceed in keeping all the inhabitants awake.'\n\n'April 12.--Settled that I stop at Lifu in the interval between the two\nvoyages. I think Lifu wants me more than any other island just now. Some\n15,000 or 20,000 stretching out their hands to God. The London Mission\n(Independent) sent Samoan teachers long ago, but no missionary, even\nafter frequent applications. At last they applied personally to the\nBishop, he being well known to them of old. I can't go for good, because\nI have of course to visit all these islands; but I shall try to spend\nall the time that I am not at sea or with boys in New Zealand, perhaps\nthree months yearly, with them, till they can be provided with a regular\nclergyman.\n\n'So I shall have no letters from you till the return of the vessel to\npick me up in September. But be sure you think of me as very happy and\nwell cared for, though, I am glad to say, not a white man on the\nisland; lots of work, but I shall take much exercise and see most of\nthe inhabitants. The island is large, not so large as Bauro, but still\nlarge.\n\n'You will say all that is kind to all relations, Buckerell, etc. Thank\nthe dear old vicar for the spurs, and tell him that I had a battle royal\nthe other day with a colonial steed, which backed into the bush, and\nkicked, and played the fool amazingly, till I considerably astonished\nhim into a gallop, in the direction I wanted to go, by a vigorous\napplication of the said spurs.\n\n'God bless and keep you all.\n\n'Your loving\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nA few days later he writes:--\n\n\n'The \"Southern Cross,\" returning to Lifu, will bring my letters; but\nunless a stray whaler comes to Lifu while I am there, on its way to\nSydney, that will be the only exchange of letters. I am afraid this will\nbe an increase of the trial of separation to you all, but it is not\nsent until you have learnt to do pretty well without me, and you will be\ncomforted by knowing that this island of Lifu, with many inhabitants, is\nin a very critical state; that what it most wants is a missionary, and\nthat as far as I am concerned, all the people will be very anxious to do\nall they can for me. I take a filter and some tea. We shall have yams,\ntaro, cocoa-nuts, occasionally a bit of turtle, a fowl, or a bit of\npork. So, you see, I shall live like an alderman; I mean, if I am to\ngo to every part of the island, heathen and all. Perhaps 20,000 people,\nscattered over many miles. I say heathen and all, because only a very\nsmall number of the people now refuse to admit the new teaching. Samoans\nhave been for some time on the island, and though, I dare say, their\nteaching has been very imperfect and only perhaps ten or fifteen people\nare baptized, they have chapels, and are far advanced beyond any of the\nislands except Nengone and Toke, always excepting Anaiteum. Hence it is\nthought the leaven may work quietly in the Solomon Islands without me,\nbut that at Lifu they really require guidance. So now I have a parochial\ncharge for three months of an island about twenty-five miles long and\nsome sixteen or eighteen broad.\n\n'I feel that my letters, after so long an absence, may contain much to\nmake me anxious, so that I shall not look with unmixed pleasure to my\nreturn to my great packet; yet I feel much less anxiety than you might\nimagine; I know well that you are in God's keeping, and that is enough.'\n\nAfter just touching at Nengone early in May the 'Southern Cross' went on\nto Lifu, and on landing, the Bishop and Mr. Patteson found a number of\npeople ready to receive them, and to conduct them to the village, where\nthe chief and a great number of people were drawn up in a half-circle\nto receive them. The young chief, Angadhohua, bowed and touched his hat,\nand taking Coley's hand, held it, and whispered, 'We will always live\ntogether.'\n\n'By and by we will talk about it,' was the answer; and they were taken\nto a new house, belonging to one of the Samoans, built of lath plastered\nand thatch, with one large room and a lesser one at each of its angles.\nThere the Bishop and Mr. Patteson sat on a chest, and seventy or eighty\nmen squatted on mats, John Cho and the native teacher foremost. There\nwas a five minutes' pause. Lifu was not yet familiar to Coley, who spoke\nit less well than he had spoken German, and John Cho said to him: 'Shall\nI tell them what you have said to me formerly?'\n\nHe then explained that Mr. Patteson could only offer them a visit of\nthree or four months, and would then have the charge of lads from 'dark\nisles.'\n\nSilence again; then Angadhohua asked: 'Cannot you stop always?'\n\n'There are many difficulties which you cannot understand, which prevent\nme. Would you like me to shut the door which God has opened to so many\ndark lands?'\n\n'No, no; but why not have the summer school here as well as the winter?'\n\n'Because it does the lads good to see New Zealand, and because the\nBishop, who knows better than I do, thinks it right.'\n\n'And cannot we have a missionary?'\n\nHowever, they were forced to content themselves with all that could be\ngranted to them, and it was further explained that Mr. Patteson would\nnot supersede the native teachers, nor assume the direction of the\nSunday services, only keep a school which any one might join who liked.\nThis was felt to be only right in good faith to the London Mission, in\norder not to make dire confusion if they should be able to fill up the\ngap before the Church could.\n\nAfter sleeping in the house, Patteson produced the books that had been\nprinted for them at St. John's.\n\n'Would that you could have seen their delight! About two pages,\nindifferently printed, was all they had hitherto. Now they saw\nthirty-two clearly printed 8vo. pages of Bible History, sixteen of\nprayers, rubrics, &c., eight of questions and answers. \"You see,\" said\nI cunningly; \"that we don't forget you during these months that I can't\nlive among you.\"'\n\nThey began reading at once, and crying, 'Excellent, exactly right, the\nvery thing.'\n\nIt was thought good that some one from Lifu should join the Mission\nparty and testify to their work, and on the invitation, the chief,\nAngadhohua, a bright youth of seventeen, volunteered to go. It was an\nunexampled thing that a chief should be permitted by his people to\nleave them, there was a public meeting about it, and a good deal of\nexcitement, but it ended in Cho, as spokesman, coming forward with tears\nin his eyes, saying, 'Yes, it is right he should go, but bring him back\nsoon. What shall we do?'\n\nPatteson laid his hand on the young chief's shoulder, answering, 'God\ncan guard him by sea as on land, and with His blessing we will bring him\nback safe to you. Let some of the chiefs go with him to protect him. I\nwill watch over him, but you may choose whom you will to accompany him.'\n\nSo five chiefs were selected as a body-guard for the young Angadhohua,\nwho was prince of all the isle, but on an insecure tenure, for the\nFrench, in New Caledonia, were showing a manifest inclination to annex\nthe Loyalty group.\n\nThe heavily loaded boat had a perilous strife with the surf before the\nship was reached, and it was a very rough passage to Anaiteum, where\nsome goods had to be left for Mr. Inglis, and he asked that four Fate\nvisitors might be taken home. This was done, and Mr. Grordon was visited\nat Erromango on the way, and found well and prosperous.\n\nAt Mai, the reception of Petere and Laure was ecstatic. There was a\ncrowd on shore to meet them, and on the two miles' walk to the village\nparties met, hugged, and wept over them. At the village Mr. Patteson\naddressed the people for ten minutes, and Petere made an animated\nexposition of what he had learnt, and his speeches evidently had great\neffect. His younger brother and two little boys all came in his stead,\nand would form part of the winter school at Lifu.\n\nThe Espiritu Santo boy, the dunce of the party, was set down at\nhome, and the Banks Islanders were again found pleasant, honest, and\ncourteous, thinking, as it appeared afterwards, that the white men were\nthe departed spirits of deceased friends. A walk inland at Vanua Lava\ndisclosed pretty villages nestling under banyan trees, one of them\nprovided with a guest-chamber for visitors from other islands. Two boys,\nSarawia and another, came away to be scholars at Lifu, as well as his\nmasters in the language, of which he as yet scarcely knew anything,\nbut which he afterwards found the most serviceable of all these various\ndialects.\n\nThe 26th of May brought the vessel to Bauro, where poor old Iri was\ntold of the death of his son, and had a long talk with Mr. Patteson,\nbeginning with, 'Do you think I shall see him again?' It was a talk\nworth having, though it was purchased by spending a night in the house\nwith the rats.\n\nIt seemed as though the time were come for calling on the Baurese to\ncease to be passive, and sixty or seventy men and women having come\ntogether, Mr. Patteson told them that he did not mean to go on merely\ntaking their boys to return them with heaps of fish-hooks and knives,\nbut that, unless they cared for good teaching, to make them good and\nhappy here and hereafter, he should not come like a trader or a whaler.\nThat their sons should go backwards and forwards and learn, but to teach\nat home; and that they ought to build a holy house, where they might\nmeet to pray to God and learn His will.\n\nMuch of this was evidently distasteful, though they agreed to build a\nroom.\n\n'I think,' he writes, 'that the trial stage of the work has arrived.\nThis has less to attract outwardly than the first beginning of all, and\nas here they must take a definite part, they (the great majority who\nare not yet disposed to decide for good) are made manifest, and the\ndifficulty of displacing evil customs is more apparent.'\n\nIn fact, these amiable, docile Baurese seemed to have little manliness\nor resolution of character, and Sumaro, a scholar of 1857, was\nespecially disappointing, for he pretended to wish to come and learn at\nLifu, but only in order to get a passage to Gera, where he deserted, and\nwas well lectured for his deceit.\n\nThe Gera people were much more warlike and turbulent, and seemed to have\nmore substance in them, though less apt at learning. Patteson spent the\nnight on shore at Perua, a subsidiary islet in the bay, sleeping in a\nkind of shed, upon two boards, more comfortably than was usual on these\noccasions. Showing confidence was one great point, and the want of safe\nanchorage in the bay was much regretted, because the people could not\nunderstand why the vessel would not come in, and thought it betokened\nmistrust. Many lads wished to join the scholars, but of those who were\nchosen, two were forced violently overboard by their friends, and only\ntwo eventually remained, making a total of twelve pupils for the\nwinter school at Lifu, with five languages between them--seven with the\naddition of the Nengone and Lifu scholars.\n\n'You see,' writes Patteson on June 10, on the voyage, 'that our\ndifficulty is in training and organising nations, raising them from\nheathenism to the life, morally and socially, of a Christian. This is\nwhat I find so hard. The communication of religious truth by word of\nmouth is but a small part of the work. The real difficulty is to do for\nthem what parents do for their children, assist them to--nay, almost\nforce upon them--the practical application of Christian doctrine. This\ndescends to the smallest matters, washing, scrubbing, sweeping, all\nactions of personal cleanliness, introducing method and order, habits\nof industry, regularity, giving just notions of exchange, barter, trade,\nmanagement of criminals, division of labour. To do all this and yet not\ninterfere with the offices of the chief, and to be the model and pattern\nof it, who is sufficient for it?'\n\nOn June 16, Mr. Patteson was landed at Lifu, for his residence there,\nwith the five chiefs, his twelve boys, and was hospitably welcomed to\nthe large new house by the Samoan. He and four boys slept in one of the\ncorner rooms, the other eight lads in another, the Rarotongan teacher,\nTutoo, and his wife in a third. The central room was parlour, school,\nand hall, and as it had four unglazed windows, and two doors opposite\nto each other, and the trade-wind always blowing, the state of affairs\nafter daylight was much like that which prevailed in England when King\nAlfred invented lanterns, while in the latter end of June the days were,\nof course, as short as they could be on the tropic of Capricorn, so that\nPatteson got up in the dark at 5-30 in the morning.\n\nAt 7 the people around dropped in for prayers, which he thought it\nbetter not to conduct till his position was more defined. Then came\nbreakfast upon yams cooked by being placed in a pit lined with heated\nstones, with earth heaped over the top. Mr. and Mrs. Tutoo, with their\nwhite guest, sat at the scrap of a table, 'which, with a small stool,\nwas the only thing on four legs in the place, except an occasional\nvisitor in the shape of a pig.' Then followed school. Two hundred Lifu\npeople came, and it was necessary to hold it in the chapel. One o'clock,\ndinner on yams, and very rarely on pig or a fowl, baked or rather done\nby the same process; and in the afternoon some reading and slate work\nwith the twelve Melanesians, and likewise some special instruction to a\nfew of the more promising Lifuites. At 6.30, another meal of yams, but\nthis time Patteson had recourse to his private store of biscuit; and the\nevening was spent in talk, till bedtime at 9 or 9.30. It was a thorough\nsharing the native life; but after a few more experiments, it was found\nthat English strength could not be kept up on an exclusive diet of\nyams, and the Loyalty Isles are not fertile. They are nothing but rugged\ncoral, in an early stage of development; great ridges, upheaved, bare\nand broken, and here and there with pits that have become filled with\nsoil enough to grow yams and cocoa-nuts.\n\nThe yams--except those for five of the lads, whose maintenance some of\nthe inhabitants had undertaken--were matter of purchase, and formed the\nmeans of instruction in the rules of lawful exchange. A fixed weight of\nyams were to constitute prepayment for a pair of trousers, a piece of\ncalico, a blanket, tomahawk, or the like, and all this was agreed to,\nCho being a great assistance in explaining and dealing with his people.\nBut it proved very difficult to keep them up to bringing a sufficient\nsupply, and as they had a full share of the universal spirit of\nhaggling, the commissariat was a very harassing and troublesome\nbusiness, and as to the boys, it was evident that the experiment was\nnot successful. Going to New Zealand was seeing the world. Horses,\ncows, sheep, a town, soldiers, &c., were to be seen there, whereas Lifu\noffered little that they could not see at home, and schooling without\nnovelty was tedious. Indeed, the sight of civilised life, the being\ntaken to church, the kindness of the friends around the College, were no\nslight engines in their education; but the Lifu people were not advanced\nenough to serve as an example--except that they had renounced the more\nhorrible of their heathen habits. They were in that unsettled state\nwhich is peculiarly trying in the conversion of nations, when the old\nauthoritative customs have been overthrown, and the Christian rules not\nestablished.\n\nIt was a good sign that the respect for the chief was not diminished.\nOne evening an English sailor (for there turned out to be three whites\non the island) who was employed in the sandal-wood trade was in the\nhouse conversing with Tutoo, when Angadhohua interrupted him, and he--in\nignorance of the youth's rank--pushed him aside out of the way. The\nexcitement was great. A few years previously the offender would have\nbeen killed on the spot, and as it was, it was only after apology and\nexplanation of his ignorance that he was allowed to go free; but an\nescort was sent with him to a place twenty miles off lest any one should\nendeavour to avenge the insult, not knowing it had been forgiven.\n\nMany of the customs of these Loyalty Isles are very unhealthy, and\nthe almost exclusive vegetable diet produced a low habit of body, that\nshowed itself in all manner of scrofulous diseases, especially tumours,\nunder which the sufferer wasted and died. Much of Patteson's time was\ntaken up by applications from these poor creatures, who fancied him\nsure to heal them, and had hardly the power, certainly not the will, to\nfollow his advice.\n\nNor had he any authority. He only felt himself there on sufferance\ntill the promised deputation should come from Rarotonga from the London\nMission, to decide whether the island should be reserved by them, or\nyielded to the Church. Meantime he says on Sunday:--\n\n'Tutoo has had a pretty hard day's work of it, poor fellow, and he is\nanything but strong. At 9.30 we all went to the chapel, which began by\na hymn sung as roughly as possible, but having rather a fine effect from\nthe fact of some 400 or 500 voices all singing in unison. Then a long\nextemporary prayer, then another hymn, then a sermon nearly an hour\nlong. It ought not to have taken more than a quarter of an hour, but it\nwas delivered very slowly, with endless repetitions, otherwise there was\nsome order and arrangement about it. Another hymn brought the service to\nan end about 11. But his work was not done; school instantly succeeded\nin the same building, and though seven native teachers were working\ntheir classes, the burthen of it fell on him. School was concluded\nwith a short extemporary prayer. At three, service again--hymn, prayer,\nanother long sermon, hymn, and at last we were out of chapel, there\nbeing no more school.'\n\n'To be sure,' is the entry on another Sunday, 'little thought I of old\nthat Sunday after Sunday I should frequent an Independent chapel. As for\nextemporary prayer not being a form, that is absurd. These poor fellows\njust repeat their small stock of words over and over again, and but\nthat they are evidently in earnest, it would seem shockingly irreverent\nsometimes. Most extravagant expressions! Tutoo is a very simple,\nhumble-minded man, and I like him much. He would feel the help and\nblessing of a Prayer-book, poor fellow, to be a guide to him; but even\nthe Lord's Prayer is never heard among them.'\n\nSo careful was Mr. Patteson not to offend the men who had first worked\non these islands, that on one Sunday when Tutoo was ill, he merely\ngave a skeleton of a sermon to John Cho to preach. On the 27th of July,\nhowever, the deputation arrived in the 'John Williams'--two ministers,\nand Mr. Creagh on his way back to Nengone, and the upshot of the\nconference on board, after a dinner in the house of Apollo, the native\nteacher, was that as they had no missionary for Lifu, they made no\nobjection to Mr. Patteson working there at present, and that if in\nanother year they received no reinforcement from home, they would take\ninto consideration the making over their teachers to him. 'My position\nis thus far less anomalous, my responsibility much increased. God will,\nI pray and trust, strengthen me to help the people and build them up in\nthe faith of Christ.'\n\n'August 2.--Yesterday I preached my two first Lifu sermons; rather\nnervous, but I knew I had command of the language enough to explain my\nmeaning, and I thought over the plan of my sermons and selected texts.\nFancy your worthy son stuck up in a pulpit, without any mark of the\nclergyman save white tie and black coat, commencing service with a hymn,\nthen reading the second chapter of St. Matthew, quite new to them, then\na prayer, extemporary, but practically working in, I hope, the principle\nand much of the actual language of the Prayer-book--i.e. Confession,\nprayer for pardon, expression of belief and praise--then another hymn,\nthe sermon about forty minutes. Text: \"I am the Way,\" &c. Afternoon:\n\"Thy Word is a lantern unto my feet.\"\n\n'You can easily understand how it was simple work to point out that a\nman lost his way by his sin, and was sent out from dwelling with God;\nthe recovery of the way by which we may again return to Paradise is\npractically the one great event which the whole Bible is concerned in\nteaching. The subject admitted of any amount of illustration and\nany amount of reference to the great facts of Scripture history, and\neverything converges to the Person of Christ. I wish them to see clearly\nthe great points--first, God's infinite love, and the great facts by\nwhich He has manifested His Love from the very first, till the coming\nof Christ exhibited most clearly the infinite wisdom and love by which\nman's return to Paradise has been effected.\n\n'Significant is that one word to the thief on the Cross \"Paradise.\" The\nway open again; the guardian angel no longer standing with flaming sword\nin the entrance; admission to the Tree of Life.'\n\n'The services were much shorter than usual, chiefly because I don't\nstammer and bungle, and take half an hour to read twenty verses of the\nBible, and also because I discarded all the endless repetitions and\nunmeaning phrases, which took up half the time of their unmeaning\nharangues. About an hour sufficed for the morning-service; the evening\none might have been a little longer. I feel quite at my ease while\npreaching, and John told me it was all very clear; but the prayers--oh!\nI did long for one of our Common Prayer-books.'\n\nOne effect of the Independent system began to reveal itself strongly.\nHow could definite doctrines be instilled into the converts by teachers\nwith hardly any books, and no formula to commit to memory? What was the\nfaith these good Samoans knew and taught?\n\n'No doctrinal belief exists among them,' writes Patteson, in the third\nmonth of his stay. 'A man for years has been associated with those who\nare called \"the people that seek Baptism.\" He comes to me:--\n\n'J. G. P. 'Who instituted baptism?\n\n'A. Jesus.\n\n'J. G. P. And He sent His Apostles to baptize in the Name of Whom?\n\n'Dead silence.\n\n'\"Why do you wish to be baptized?\"\n\n'\"To live.\"\n\n'\"All that Jesus has done for us, and given to us, and taught us, is for\nthat object. What is the particular benefit we receive in baptism?\" 'No\nconception.' Such is their state.\n\n'I would not hesitate if I thought there were any implicit recognition\nof the doctrine of the Trinity; but I can't baptize people morally good\nwho don't know the Name into which they are to be baptized, who can't\ntell me that Jesus is God and man. There is a lad who soon must die of\nconsumption, whom I now daily examine. He has not a notion of any truth\nrevealed from above, and to be embraced and believed as truth upon the\nauthority of God's Word. A kind of vague morality is the substitute for\nthe Creed of the Apostles. What am I to do? I did speak out for three\ndays consecutively pretty well, but I am alone, and only here for four\nmonths, and yet, I fear, I am expecting too much from them, and that\nI ought to be content with something much less as the (so to speak)\nqualifications; but surely they ought to repent and believe. To say the\nword, \"I believe,\" without a notion of what they believe, surely that\nwon't do. They must be taught, and then baptized, according to our\nLord's command, suited for adults.'\n\nConstant private teaching to individuals was going on, and the 250\ncopies of the Lifu primer were dispersed where some thousands were\nwanted, and Mr. Patteson wrote a little book of sixteen pages,\ncontaining the statement of the outlines of the faith, and of Scripture\nhistory; but this could not be dispersed till it had been printed in New\nZealand.\n\nAnd in the meantime a fresh element of perplexity was arising. The\nFrench had been for some time past occupying New Caledonia, and a bishop\nhad been sent thither about the same time as Bishop Selwyn had gone to\nNew Zealand; but though an earnest and hardworking man, he had never\nmade much progress. He had the misfortune of being connected in the\npeople's minds with French war ships and aggression, and, moreover, the\nSouth Sea race seem to have a peculiar distaste for the Roman Catholic\nbranch of the Church, for which it is not easy to account.\n\nThe Loyalty Isles, as lying so near to New Caledonia, were tempting to\nthe French Empire, and the Bishop at the same time felt it his duty to\nattempt their conversion.\n\nSome priests had been placed at the north end of the island for about\nsix months past, but the first communication was a letter on July\n6, complaining, partly in French, partly in English, that since Mr.\nPatteson's arrival, the people had been making threatening reports.\nNow Mr. Patteson had from the first warned them against showing any\nunkindness to the French priests, and he wrote a letter of explanation,\nand arranged to go and hold a conference. On the way, while supping with\nthe English sailor, at the village where he was to sleep, he heard a\nnoise, and found the Frenchman, Pere Montrouzier, had arrived. He was\napparently about forty; intelligent, very experienced in mission work,\nand conversant with the habits and customs of French and English in\nthe colonies; moreover, with plenty of firmness in putting forward his\ncause. He seems to have been supported by the State in a manner unusual\nwith French missions.\n\n'I had one point only that I was determined to press (Patteson says),\nnamely, liberty to the people to follow any form of religion they might\nchoose to adopt. I knew that they and I were completely in his power,\nyet that my line was to assume that we were now about to arrange our\nplans for the future independently of any interference from the civil\npower.\n\n'He let me see that he knew he could force upon the Lifu people whatever\nhe pleased, the French Government having promised him any number of\nsoldiers he may send for to take possession, if necessary, of the\nisland. They have 1,000 men in New Caledonia, steamers and frigates of\nwar; and he told me plainly that this island and Nengone are considered\nas natural appendages of New Caledonia, and practically French\npossessions already, so that, of course, to attempt doing more than\nsecure for the people a religious liberty is out of the question. He\npromised me that if the people behaved properly to him and his people,\nhe would not send for the soldiers, nor would he do anything to\ninterfere with the existing state of the island.\n\n'He will not himself remain here long, being commissioned, in\nconsequence of his fourteen years' experience, to prepare the way for\nthe French mission here. He told me that twenty missionaries are coming\nout for this group, about seven or eight of whom will be placed on Lifu,\nothers on Nengone, &c.; that the French Government is determined to\nsupport them; that the Commandant of Nimia in New Caledonia had sent\nword to him that any number of men should be sent to him at an instant's\nnotice, in a war steamer, to do what he might wish in Lifu, but that\nhonestly he would do nothing to compel the people here to embrace\nRomanism; but that if necessary he would use force to establish the\nmissionaries in houses in different parts of the island, if the chiefs\nrefused to sell them parcels of land, for instance, one acre. The\ncaptain of the \"Iris,\" an English frigate, called on him on Monday, and\nsent me a letter by him, making it quite clear that the French will meet\nwith no opposition from the English Government. He too knew this, and\nof course knew his power; but he behaved, I must say, well, and if he\nis really sincere about the liberty of religion question, I must be\nsatisfied with the result of our talk. I was much tired. We slept\ntogether on a kind of bed in an unfurnished house, where I was so cold\nthat I could not sleep; besides, my head ached much; so my night was\nnot a very pleasant one. In the morning we resumed our talk, but the\nbusiness was over really. The question that we had discussed the evening\nbefore was brought to an issue, however, by his requiring from John\nCho, who was with us, permission to buy about an acre of land in his\nterritory. John was much staggered at this. It looked to him like a\nsurrender of his rights. I told him, at great length, why I thought he\nmust consent; but finally it was settled, that as John is not the real\nchief, I should act as interpreter for the Frenchmen; and send him from\nMu an answer to a letter which he addresses to me, but which is, in\nfact, intended for the chief.\n\n'It is, I suppose, true, that civilised nations do not acknowledge the\nright of a chief to prevent any one of his subjects from selling a\nplot of his land to a foreigner unless they may be at war with that\nparticular nation.\n\n'He said that France would not allow a savage chief to say \"My custom in\nthis respect is different from yours;\" and again, \"This is not a taking\npossession. It is merely requiring the right to put up a cottage for\nwhich I pay the just price.\" He told me plainly, if the chiefs did not\nallow him to do so, he would send for soldiers and put it up by force;\nbut not use the soldiers for any other purpose. Of course I shall relate\nall this to Angadhohua at Mu, and make them consent.\n\n'He told me that at New Caledonia they had reserved inalienably\none-tenth of the land for the natives, that the rest would be sold to\nFrench colonists of the poor class, no one possessing more than ten\nacres; that 5,000 convicts would be sent there, and the ticket-of-leave\nsystem adopted, and that he thought the worst and most incorrigible\ncharacters would be sent to Lifu. Poor John! But I can't help him; he\nmust make such terms as he can, for he and his people are wholly in\ntheir power.\n\n'Our talk being ended, I found a great circle of men assembled on the\noutside with a pile of yams as usual in the centre for me. I was glad\nto see a small pile also for the Frenchman. I made my speech in his\npresence, but he knows not Lifu. \"Be kind to the French, give them food\nand lodging. This is a duty which you are bound to pay to all men;\nbut if they try to persuade you to change the teaching which you have\nreceived, don't listen to them. Who taught you to leave off war and evil\nhabits, to build chapels, to pray? Remember that. Trust the teachers who\nhave taught you the Word of God.\"\n\n'This was the kind of thing I said. Then off we set--two miles of loose\nsand at a rattling pace, as I wanted to shake off some 200 people who\nwere crowding about me. Then turning to the west, climbed some coral\nrocks very quickly, and found myself with only half my own attendants,\nand no strangers. Sat down, drank a cocoa-nut, and waited a long time\nfor John, who can't walk well, and then quietly went on the remaining\neight or nine miles to Zebedee's place, a Samoan teacher. They were\nvery attentive, and gave me some supper. They had a bed, which was, of\ncourse, given up to me in spite of opposition. They regard a missionary\nas something superhuman almost. Sometimes I can't make them eat and\ndrink with me; they think it would be presumptuous. Large meeting of\npeople in the afternoon, and again the following morning, to whom I said\nmuch what I had already said at We. Then fifteen miles over to Apollo's\nplace on the west coast, a grand bay, with perfectly calm water,\ndelicious in the winter months. Comfortable quarters; Apollo a\ncleverish, free-spoken fellow.\n\n'I went, on the same afternoon, two miles of very bad road to visit\nthe French priest, who is living here. More talk and of a very friendly\nnature. He has been eighteen months at San Cristoval, but knows not the\nlanguage; at Woodlark Island, New Caledonia, &c. We talked in French\nand English. He knows English fairly, but preferred to talk French. This\nday's work was nineteen miles.\n\nSlept at Apollo's. Next morning went a little way in canoes and walked\nsix miles to Toma's place; meeting held, speech as usual, present of\nyams, pig, &c. Walked back the six miles, started in double canoe for\nGaicha, the other side of the bay: wind cold, some difficulty in getting\nashore. Walked by the bad path to Apollo's and slept there again;\nFrenchman came in during the evening. Next day, Friday, meeting in the\nchapel. Walked twenty miles back to We, where I am now writing. Went the\ntwenty miles with no socks; feet sore and shoes worn to pieces, cutting\noff leather as I came along. Nothing but broken bottles equals jagged\ncoral. Paths went so that you never take three steps in the same\ndirection, and every minute trip against logs, coral hidden by long\nleaves, arid weeds trailing over the path. Often for half a mile you\njump from one bit of coral to another. No shoes can stand it, and I was\ntired, I assure you. Indeed, for the last two days, if I stopped for a\nminute to drink a nut, my legs were so stiff that they did not get into\nplay for five minutes or so.\n\n'July 16th.--The captain of the \"Iris\" frigate passing Lifu dropped me\na line which satisfied me that the French will meet with no impediment\nfrom the English Government in the prosecution of their plans out here.\nWell, this makes one's own path just as easy, because all these things,\ngreat and small, are ordered for us; but yet I grieve to think that we\nmight be occupying these groups with missionaries. Even ten good men\nwould do for a few years; and is it unreasonable to think that ten\nmen might be found willing to engage in such a happy work in such a\nbeautiful part of the world--no yellow fever, no snakes, &c. I think\nof the Banks Islands, Vanua Lava, with its harbour and streams, and\nabundance of food, and with eight or nine small islands round it,\nspeaking the same language, few dialectic differences of consequence, as\nI believe.\n\n'Even one good man might introduce religion here as we have received it,\npure and undefiled. Oh! that there were men who could believe this,\nand come out unconditionally, placing themselves in the Bishop's hands\nunreservedly. He must know the wants and circumstances of the islands\nfar better than they can, and therefore no man ought to stipulate as to\nhis location, &c. Did the early teachers do so? Did Titus ever think of\nsaying to St. Paul, \"Mind I must be an elder, or bishop, or whatever he\nwas, of Crete?\" Just as if that frame of mind was compatible with a real\ndesire to do what little one can by God's help to bring the heathen to a\nknowledge of Christ.\n\n'At this moment, one man for the Banks group and another for Mai and the\nneighbouring islands would be invaluable. If anything occurs to make me\nleave these Loyalty Islands as my residence during a part of the year,\nI am off to Banks, or Mai, or Solomon Isles. But what am I? In many\nrespects not so well qualified for the work as many men who yet,\nperhaps, have had a less complete education. I know nothing of\nmechanics, and can't teach common things; I am not apt to teach\nanything, I fear, having so long deferred to learn the art of teaching,\nbut of course exposing one's own shortcomings is easy enough. How to get\nthe right sort of men? First qualification is common-sense, guided, of\ncourse, by religious principle. Some aptitude for languages, but that is\nof so little consequence that I would almost say no one was sufficient\nby itself as a qualification. Of course the mission work tends immensely\nto improve all earnest men; the eccentricities and superfluities\ndisappear by degrees as the necessary work approves itself to the\naffection and intellect.'\n\nThe French question resulted in a reply in Angadhohua's name, that the\npeople should be permitted to sell ground where the mission required it;\nand that in the one place specified about which there was contention,\nthe land should be ceded as a gift from the chiefs. 'This,' observes\nMr. Patteson, 'is the first negotiation which has been thrust upon me. I\nmore than suspect I have made considerable blunders.'\n\nBy the 13th of August, he had to walk over the coral jags for another\nconsultation with Pere Montrouzier, whose negotiation with Cho had\nresulted in thorough misunderstanding, each thinking the other was\ndeceiving him, and not dealing according to promise to Mr. Patteson. The\nPere had, in his fourteen years' experience, imbibed a great distrust\nof the natives, and thought Mr. Patteson placed too much confidence\nin them, while the latter thought him inclined to err the other way;\nhowever, matters were accommodated, at heavy cost to poor Coley's feet.\nA second pair of shoes were entirely cut to pieces, and he could not put\nany on the next day, his feet were so blistered.\n\nThe troubles were not ended, for when the ground was granted, there\nfollowed a stipulation that the chiefs should not hinder the men from\nworking at the building; and when the men would not work, the chiefs\nwere suspected of preventing it, and a note from Pere Montrouzier\ngreatly wounded Patteson's feelings by calling John Cho faux et\nartificieux.\n\nHowever, after another note, he retracted this, and a day or two after\ncame the twenty miles over the coral to make a visit to the English\nclergyman. 'There is much to like in him: a gentleman, thoroughly\nwell informed, anxious of course to discuss controversial points, and\nuncommonly well suited for that kind of work, he puts his case well and\nclearly, and, of course, it is easy to make their system appear most\nadmirably adapted for carrying out all the different duties of a Church,\nas it is consistent in all, or nearly all, particulars, given the one\nor two leading points on which all depend. The Church of England here\nis very much in the position of any one of those other bodies, Wesleyan,\nIndependent, or Presbyterian; and though we have a Bishop at the\nhead--of what, however? Of one individual clergyman! Oh, that we had now\na good working force--twenty or thirty men with some stuff in them; and\nthere are plenty if they would only come. Meanwhile, France sends plenty\nof men; steamers bring them houses, cows for themselves and as presents\nfor natives--supports the missionary in every way. New Caledonia is\nhandy for the central school, everything almost that can be requisite.\nNever mind; work on, one small life is a mighty trifling thing\nconsidered with reference to those great schemes overruled by God to\nbring out of them great ultimate good, no doubt.'\n\nThere was an interchange of books between the French and English priest.\nPere Montrouzier lent, and finally gave, Martinet's 'Solution de Grands\nProblemes,' which Patteson calls 'a very interesting book, with a\ngreat deal of dry humour about it, not unlike Newman's more recent\npublications. \"It is,\" he (Montrouzier) says, \"thought very highly of in\nFrance.\" He is a well-read man, I should imagine, in his line; and that\nis pretty extensive, for he is a really scientific naturalist, something\nof a geologist, a good botanist, besides having a good acquaintance with\necclesiastical literature.'\n\nThere was the more time for recreation with the Pere's French books,\nand the serious work of translating St. Mark's Grospel and part of the\nLitany into Lifu, as the inhabitants were all called off from school\nin the middle of August 'by a whale being washed ashore over a barrier\nreef--not far from me. All the adjacent population turned out in grass\nkilts, with knives and tomahawks to hack off chunks of flesh to be\neaten, and of blubber to be boiled into oil; and in the meantime the\nneighbourhood was by no means agreeable to anyone possessing a nose.'\n\nMeanwhile Sarawia, the best of the Banks pupils, had a swelling on the\nknee, and required care and treatment, but soon got better. Medical\nknowledge, as usual, Patteson felt one of the great needs of missionary\nlife. Cases of consumption and scrofula were often brought to him,\nand terrible abscesses, under which the whole body wasted away. 'Poor\npeople!' he writes, 'a consumptive hospital looms in the far perspective\nof my mind; a necessary accompaniment, I feel now, of the church and the\nschool in early times. I wish I could contrive some remedy for the dry\nfood, everything being placed between leaves and being baked on the\nground, losing all the gravy; and when you get a chicken it is a\ncollection of dry strings. If I could manage boiling; but there is\nnothing like a bit of iron for fire-place on the island, and to keep\nup the wood fire in the bush under the saucepan is hard work. I must\ncommence a more practical study than hitherto of \"Robinson Crusoe,\"\nand the \"Swiss Family.\" Why does no missionary put down hints on the\nsubject? My three months here will teach me more than anything that has\nhappened to me, and I dare say I shall get together the things I want\nmost when next I set forth from New Zealand.... I find it a good plan to\nlook on from short periods to short periods, and always ask, what next?\nAnd at last it brings one to the real answer:--Work as hard as you can,\nand that rest which lacks no ingredient of perfect enjoyment and peace\nwill come at last.'\n\nAmong the needs he discovered was this:--'By the bye, good cheap Bible\nprints would be very useful; large, so as to be seen by a large class,\nillustrating just the leading ideas. Schnorr's Bible prints by Rose and\nBingen are something of the kind that I mean, something quite rude will\ndo. Twenty-four subjects, comprising nothing either conventional or\nsymbolical, would be an endless treasure for teachers; the intervening\nhistory would be filled up and illustrated by smaller pictures, but\nthese would be pegs on which to hang the great events these lads ought\nto know. Each should be at least twenty-four inches by ten.\n\n'Try to remember, in the choice of any other picture books for them,\nthat anything that introduces European customs is no use yet. Pictures\nof animals are the best things. One or two of a railway, a great bridge,\na view of the Thames with steamers rushing up and down, would all\ndo; but all our habits of social life are so strange that they don't\ninterest them yet.\n\n'When I next reach Auckland, I suppose my eyes will rejoice at\nseeing your dear old likenesses. When we build our permanent central\nschool-house at Kohimarama, I shall try to get a little snuggery, and\nthen furnish it with a few things comfortably; I shall then invest in a\nchest of drawers, as I dare say my clothes are getting tired of living\nin boxes since March 1855.\n\n'I can hardly tell you how much I regret not knowing something about the\ntreatment of simple surgical cases. If when with W---- I had studied the\npractical--bled, drawn teeth, mixed medicines, rolled legs perpetually,\nit would have been worth something. Surely I might have foreseen all\nthis! I really don't know how to find the time or the opportunity\nfor learning. How true it is that men require to be trained for their\nparticular work! I am now just in a position to know what to learn were\nI once more in England. Spend one day with old Fry (mason), another with\nJohn Venn (carpenter), and two every week at the Exeter hospital, and\nnot look on and see others work--there's the mischief, do it oneself.\nMake a chair, a table, a box; fit everything; help in every part of\nmaking and furnishing a house, that is, a cottage. Do enough of every\npart to be able to do the whole. Begin by felling a tree; saw it into\nplanks, mix the lime, see the right proportion of sand, &c., know how to\nchoose a good lot of timber, fit handles for tools, &c.\n\n'Many trades need not be attempted; but every missionary ought to be a\ncarpenter, a mason, something of a butcher, and a good deal of a cook.\nSuppose yourself without a servant, and nothing for dinner to-morrow but\nsome potatoes in the barn, and a fowl running about in the yard. That's\nthe kind of thing for a young fellow going into a new country to imagine\nto himself. If a little knowledge of glazing could be added, it would be\na grand thing, just enough to fit in panes to window-frames, which last,\nof course, he ought to make himself. Much of this cannot be done for\nyou. I can buy window-frames in Auckland, and glass; but I can't carry\na man a thousand miles in my pocket to put that glass into these frames;\nand if it is done in New Zealand, ten to one it gets broken on the\nvoyage; whereas, glass by itself will pack well. Besides, a pane gets\nbroken, and then I am in a nice fix. To know how to tinker a bit is a\ngood thing; else your only saucepan or tea-kettle may be lying by you\nuseless for months. In fact, if I had known all this before, I should\nbe just ten times as useful as I am now. If anyone you know thinks of\nemigrating or becoming a missionary, just let him remember this.'\n\nTo these humble requisites, it appears that a missionary ought on\noccasion to be able to add those of a prime minister and lawgiver.\nAngadhohua, a bright, clever lad, only too easily led, was to be\ninstructed in the duties of a chief; Mr. Patteson scrupulously trying\nin vain to make him understand that he was a person of far more\nconsideration and responsibility than his white visitor would be in his\nown country. The point was to bring the Christian faith into connection\nwith life and government. 'Much talk have I had with John in order that\nwe may try to put before them the true grounds on which they ought\nto embrace Christianity,' writes Mr. Patteson, when about to visit a\nheathen district which had shown an inclination to abandon their old\ncustoms, 'and also the consequences to which they pledge themselves by\nthe profession of a religion requiring purity, regularity, industry,\n&c., but I have little doubt that our visit now will result in the\nnominal profession of Christianity by many heathen. Angadhohua, John,\nand I go together, and Isaka, a Samoan teacher who has been a good deal\namong them. I shall make an arrangement for taking one of their leading\nmen to New Zealand with me, that he may get some notion of what is meant\nby undertaking to become a Christian. It is in many respects a great\nbenefit to be driven back upon the very first origin of a Christian\nsociety; one sees more than ever the necessity of what our Lord has\nprovided, a living organised community into which the baptized convert\nbeing introduced falls into his place, as it were, naturally; sees\naround him everything at all times to remind him that he is a regenerate\nman, that all things are become new. A man in apostolic times had the\nlessons of the Apostles and disciples practically illustrated in the\nlife of those with whom he associated. The church was an expression of\nthe verbal teaching committed to its ministers. How clearly the\nbeauty of this comes out when one is forced to feel the horrible blank\noccasioned by the absence of the living teacher, influencing, moulding,\nbuilding up each individual professor of Christianity by a process\nalways going on, though oftentimes unconsciously to him on whom it\noperates.\n\n'But how is the social life to be fashioned here in Lifu according to\nthe rule of Christ? There is no organised body exemplifying in daily\nactions the teaching of the Bible. A man goes to chapel and hears\nsomething most vague and unmeaning. He has never been taught to grasp\nanything distinctly--to represent any truth to his mind as a settled\nresting-place for his faith. Who is to teach him? What does he see\naround him to make him imperceptibly acquire new habits in conformity\nwith the Bible? Is the Christian community distinguished by any habits\nof social order and intercourse different from non-Christians?\n\n'True, they don't fight and eat one another now, but beyond that are\nthey elevated as men? The same dirt, the same houses, the same idle\nvicious habits; in most cases no sense of decency, or but very little.\nWhere is the expression of the Scriptural life? Is it not a most\nlamentable state of things? And whence has it arisen? From not\nconnecting Christian teaching in church with the improvement in social\nlife in the hut and village, which is the necessary corollary and\ncomplement of such teaching.\n\n'By God's grace, I trust that some little simple books in Lifu will\nsoon be in their houses, which may be useful. It is even a cause for\nthankfulness that in a few days (for the \"Southern Cross\" ought to be\nhere in a week with 500 more copies) some 600 or more copies, in large\ntype, of the Lord's Prayer, Creed, and Ten Commandments will be in\ncirculation; but they won't use them yet. They won't be taught to learn\nthem by heart, and be questioned upon them; yet they may follow by and\nby. Hope on is the rule. Give them the Bible, is the cry; but you must\ngive them the forms of faith and prayer which Christendom has accepted,\nto guide them; and oh! that we were so united that we could baptize them\ninto a real living exemplification, and expression--an embodiment of\nChristian truth, walking, sleeping, eating and drinking before their\neyes. Christ Himself was that on earth, and His Church ought to be now.\nThese men saw to accept His teaching was to bind themselves to a\ncertain course of life which was exhibited before their own eyes. Hence,\nmultitudes approved His teaching, but would not accept it--would not\nprofess it, because they saw what was involved in that profession. But\nnow men don't count the cost; they forget that \"If any man come to Me\"\nis followed by \"Which of you intending to build a tower,\" &c. Hence the\ngreat and exceeding difficulty in these latter days when Christianity is\npopular!'\n\nIn this state of things it was impossible to baptize adults till they\nhad come to a much clearer understanding of what a Christian ought to do\nand to believe; and therefore Coley's only christenings in Lifu were of\na few dying children, whom he named after his brother and sisters, as\nhe baptized them with water, brought in cocoa-nut shells, having taught\nhimself to say by heart his own translation of the baptismal form.\n\nHe wrote the following letter towards the end of his stay:--\n\n\n'September 6, 1858: Lifu, Loyalty Islands.\n\n'My dear Miss Neill,--The delay of four or five days in the arrival of\nthe \"Southern Cross\" gives me a chance of writing you a line. The Bishop\ndropped me here this day three months, and told me to look out for him\non September 1. As New Zealand is 1,000 miles off, and he can't command\nwinds and waves, of course I allow him a wide margin; and I begged him\nnot to hurry over my important business in New Zealand in order to keep\nhis appointment exactly. But his wont is to be very punctual. I have\nhere twelve lads from the north-west islands: from seven islands,\nspeaking six languages. The plan of bringing them to a winter school in\nsome tropical isle is now being tried. The only difficulty here is that\nLifu is so large and populous; and just now (what with French priests on\nit, and the most misty vague kind of teaching from Independents the only\nthing to oppose to the complete machinery of the Romish system) demands\nso much time, that it is difficult to do justice to one's lads from\nthe distant lands that are living with one here. The Bishop had an\nexaggerated notion of the population here. I imagine it to be somewhere\nabout 8,000. The language is not very hard, but has quite enough\ndifficulty to make it more than a plaything: the people in that state\nwhen they venerate a missionary--a very dangerous state; I do my best to\nturn the reverence into the right channel and towards its proper object.\n\n'You will see by the last Melanesian report of which I desired a copy to\nbe sent to you, that our work is very rapidly increasing; that openings\nare being made in all directions; and that had we men of trust, we could\noccupy them at once. As it is, we keep up a communication with some\nseventy-four islands, waiting, if it may be, that men may be sent,\ntrying to educate picked men to be teachers; but I am not very sanguine\nabout that. At all events, the first flush of savage customs, &c., is\nbeing, I trust, removed, so that for some other body of Christians, if\nnot the Church of England, the door may be laid open.\n\n'Of course, the interest of the work is becoming more and more\nabsorbing; so that, much as there is indeed going on in your world to\ndistract and grieve one, it comes to me so weakened by time and distance\nthat I don't sympathise as I ought with those who are suffering so\ndreadfully from the Indian Mutiny, or the commercial failure, or the\ngreat excitement and agitation of the country. You can understand how\nthis can be, perhaps; for my actual present work leaves me small leisure\nfor reflecting, and for placing myself in the position of others at\na distance; and when I have a moment's time surely it is right that I\nshould be in heart at Feniton, with those dear ones, and especially my\ndear dear father, of whom I have not heard for five months, so that I am\nvery anxious as to what account of him the \"Southern Cross\" may bring,\nand try to prepare myself for news of increased illness, &c.\n\n'You, I imagine, my dear Miss Neill, are not much changed to those who\nsee you day by day; but I should find you much weaker in body than when\nI saw you last, and yet it did not seem then as if you had much strength\nto lose: I don't hear of any sudden changes, or any forms of illness;\nthe gradual exhausting process is going on, but accompanied, I fear,\nwith even greater active pain than of old; your sufferings are indeed\nvery severe and very protracted, a great lesson to us all. Yet you have\nmuch, even speaking only of worldly comfort, which makes your position a\nmuch happier one than that of the poor suffering souls whom I see here.\nTheir house is one round room, a log burning in the centre, no chimney,\nthe room full of smoke, common receptacle of men, women, boys, girls,\npigs, and fowls. In the corner a dying woman or child. No water in the\nisland that is fresh, a few holes in the coral where water accumulates,\nmore or less brackish; no cleanliness, no quiet, no cool fresh air, hot\nsmoky atmosphere, no proper food, a dry bit of yam, and no knowledge of\na life to come: such is the picture of the invalided or dying South Sea\nIslander. All dying children under years of discretion I baptize, and\nall the infants brought to the chapel by parents who themselves are\nseeking baptism; but I have not baptized any adults yet, they must\nbe examined and taught for some time, for the Samoan and Rarotongan\nteachers sent by the Independent missionaries are very imperfectly\ninstructed and quite incapable of conveying definite teaching to them.\n\n'I don't see, humanly speaking, how this island is to be kept from\nbecoming purely Roman Catholic. They have a large staff of men, and are\nbacked up by the presence of a complete government establishment in\nNew Caledonia, only two or three days distant, while what have we? Four\nmonths a year of the time, partially otherwise occupied by Melanesian\nschools, of one missionary, and while here these four months, I have my\nlads from many islands to teach, so that I can't lay myself out to learn\nthis one language, &c. I am writing this on September 16. \"Southern\nCross\" not yet come, and my lads very anxious; I confess I should like\nto see it, not only (as you will believe) because all my stores are\ngone. I have not a morsel of biscuit or grain of sugar left, and am\nreduced to native fare, which does not suit my English constitution for\nvery long. Yams and taro, and a fowl now and then, will be my food until\nthe ship comes. Hitherto I have had coffee and biscuits in addition.\n\n'My very kind love to Mrs. S ----, and many thanks for the letters,\nwhich I much enjoy.\n\n'Your very affectionate old pupil,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThe whole of September passed without the arrival of the 'Southern\nCross.' The fact was that after Mr. Patteson had been left at Lifu,\nthe vessel when entering Port-au-France, New Caledonia, had come upon\na coral reef, and the damage done to her sheathing was so serious that\nthough she returned to Auckland from that trip, she could not sail again\nwithout fresh coppering; and as copper had to be brought from Sydney\nfor the purpose, there was considerable delay before she could set\nforth again, so that it was not till the last day of September that she\ngladdened Patteson's eyes, and brought the long-desired tidings from\nhome.\n\nThis voyage was necessarily short, as there were appointments to be kept\nby the Bishop in New Zealand in November, and all that could be aimed at\nwas the touching at the more familiar islands for fresh instalments\nof scholars. The grand comet of 1858 was one feature of this\nexpedition--which resulted in bringing home forty-seven Melanesians,\nso that with the crew, there were sixty-three souls on board during the\nhomeward voyage!\n\n'As you may suppose, the little \"Southern Cross\" is cram full, but the\nBishop's excellent arrangements in the construction of the vessel for\nsecuring ventilation, preserve us from harm by God's blessing. Every day\na thorough cleaning and sweeping goes on, and frequent washing, and as\nall beds turn up like the flap of a table, and some thirty lads sleep\non the floor on mats and blankets, by 7 A.M. all traces of the night\narrangements have vanished. The cabin looks and feels airy; meals go on\nregularly; the boys living chiefly on yams, puddings, and cocoa-nuts,\nand plenty of excellent biscuit. We laid in so many cocoa-nuts that they\nhave daily one apiece, a great treat to them. A vessel of this size,\nunless arranged with special reference to such objects, could not\ncarry safely so large a party, but we have nothing on board to create,\nconceal, or accumulate dirt; no hold, no storeroom, no place where\na mixed mess of spilt flour, and sugar, and treacle, and old rotten\npotatoes, and cocoa-nut parings and bits of candle, can all be washed\ntogether into a dark foul hold; hence the whole ship, fore and aft, is\nsweet and clean. Stores are kept in zinc lockers puttied down, and in\ncedar boxes lined with zinc. We of course distribute them ourselves; a\nhired steward would be fatal, because you can't get a servant to see the\nimportance of care in such details.'\n\nMr. Patteson always, in the most careful manner, paid respect both to\nthe chief's person and his dicta. He declined more than once to give\ndirections which he said ought to issue from the chief, although on one\nof these occasions he was asked by the chief himself. He foresaw clearly\nthe evils that might follow if the people's respect for recognised\nauthority were weakened, instead of being, as it might be, turned to\nuseful account. And so he always accorded to John Cho, and to other\npersons of rank when they were with us in the Mission school, just such\nrespect as they were accustomed to receive at the hands of their own\npeople. For instance, he would always use to a moderate extent the\nchief's language in addressing John Cho or any other of the Loyalty\nchiefs; and it being a rule of theirs that no one in the presence of the\nchiefs should ever presume to sit down higher than the chiefs, he would\nalways make a point of attending to it as regarded himself; and once or\ntwice when, on shore in the islands, the chief had chosen to squat down\non the ground among the people, he would jocularly leave the seat that\nhad been provided for him, and place himself by the chief's side on the\nground. All this was keenly appreciated as significant, but alas! the\nLoyalty Islanders were not long to remain under his charge.\n\nThe ensuing letter was written to Sir John Taylor Coleridge, after\nlearning the tidings of his retirement from the Bench in the packet of\nintelligence brought by the vessel:--\n\n\n'November 10, 1858: Lat. 31\u00b0 29' S.; Long. 171\u00b0 12' E.\n\n'My dear Uncle John,--I see by the papers that you have actually\nresigned, and keep your connection with the judges only as a Privy\nCouncillor. I am of course on my own account heartily glad that you will\nbe near my dear father for so many months of the year, and you are\nvery little likely to miss your old occupation much, with your study at\nHeath's Court, so I shall often think of you in summer sitting out on\nthe lawn, by John's Pinus excelsis, and in winter in your armchair by\nthe fire, and no doubt you will often find your way over to Feniton.\nAnd then you have a glorious church!.... Oh! I do long for a venerable\nbuilding and for the sound of ancient chants and psalms. At times,\nthe Sunday is specially a day on which my mind will go back to the old\ncountry, but never with any wish to return. I have never experienced\nthat desire, and think nothing but absolute inability to help on a\nMelanesian or a Maori will ever make a change in that respect. I feel\nas certain as I can be of anything that I should not be half as happy\nin England as I am in New Zealand, or in Lifu, in the Banks or Solomon\nIslands, &c. I like the life and the people, everything about it and\nthem....\n\n'Coppering the schooner caused delay, so that he (the Bishop) could give\nbut two months instead of three to the Island voyage, for he starts on\nNovember 25 for a three months' Confirmation tour (1,000 miles) among\nthe New Zealanders, which will bring him to Wellington by March 1, for\nthe commencement of the first synod. Consequently we have only\nrevisited some of our seventy and odd islands, but we have no less than\nforty-seven Melanesians from twelve islands on board, of whom three are\nyoung married women, while two are babies.\n\n'This makes our whole number on board sixty, viz., four Pitcairners,\nforty-seven Melanesians, ourselves + crew = sixty-three, a number too\ngreat for so small a vessel, but for the excellent plan adopted by the\nBishop in the internal arrangement of the vessel when she was built, and\nthe scrupulous attention to cleanliness in every place fore and aft. As\nit is, we are not only healthy but comfortable, able to have all meals\nregularly, school, prayers, just as if we had but twenty on board.\nNevertheless, I think, if you could drop suddenly on our lower deck at\n9 P.M. and visit unbeknown to us the two cabins, you would be rather\nsurprised at the number of the sleepers--twelve in our after-cabin, and\nforty-five in the larger one, which occupies two-thirds of the vessel.\n\n'Of course we make no invasion upon the quarters forward of the four men\nbefore the mast--common seamen, and take good care that master and mate\nshall have proper accommodation.\n\n'One gets so used to this sort of thing that I sleep just as well as I\nused to do in my own room at home, and by 6.30 or 7 A.M. all vestiges\nof anything connected with sleeping arrangements have vanished, and the\ncabins look like what they are,--large and roomy. We have, you know, no\nseparate cabins filled with bunks, &c., abominations specially contrived\nto conceal dirt and prevent ventilation. Light calico curtains answer\nall purposes of dividing off a cabin into compartments, but we agree to\nlive together, and no one has found it unpleasant as yet. We turn a\npart of our cabin into a gunaikhon at night for the three women and two\nbabies by means of a canvas screen. Bishop looks after them, washes the\nbabies, tends the women when sick, &c., while I, by virtue of being a\nbachelor, shirk all the trouble. One of these women is now coming for\nthe second time to the college; her name is Carry. Margaret Cho is on\nher second visit, and Hrarore is the young bride of Kapua, now coming\nfor his third time, and baptized last year.\n\n'We wish to make both husbands and wives capable of imparting better\nnotions to their people.\n\n'We have, I think, a very nice set on board....\n\n'I think everything points to Vanua Lava, the principal island of the\nBanks group, becoming our centre of operations, i.e., that it would be\nthe place where winter school would be carried on with natives from many\nislands, from Solomon Islands group to the north-west, and Santa Cruz\ngroup to north, New Hebrides to south and Loyalty Islands south-west,\nand also the depot among the islands, a splendid harbour, safe both from\ntrade and hurricane winds, plenty of water, abundantly supplied\nwith provisions, being indeed like a hot-house, with its hot springs\nconstantly sending up clouds of vapour on the high hills, a population\nwholly uninjured by intercourse with traders and whalers, it being\ncertain that our vessel was the first at all events that has ever been\nseen by the eyes of any member of this generation on the islands; I\ncould prove this to you easily if I had time.\n\n'They are most simple, gentle and docile, unwarlike, not cannibals, I\nverily believe as good a specimen of the natural fallen man as can\nbe met with, wholly naked, yet with no sense of shame in consequence;\ntimid, yet soon learning to confide in one; intelligent, and gleaming\nwith plenty of spirit and fun. As the island, though 440 miles north\nof the Loyalty Isles, is not to leeward of them, it would only take us\nabout eight days more to run down, and a week more to return to it from\nNew Zealand, than would be the case if we had our winter school on one\nof the Loyalty Islands. So I hope now we may get a missionary for Lifu,\nand so I may be free to spend all my time, when not in New Zealand,\nat Vanua Lava. Temperature in winter something under 80\u00b0 in the shade,\nbeing in lat. 13\u00b0 45' 5\". The only thing against Vanua Lava is the fact\nthat elephantiasis abounds among the natives, and they say that the\nmortality is very considerable there, so it might not be desirable to\nbring many lads to it from other islands; but the neighbouring islands\nof Mota and Valua, and Uvaparapara are in sight and are certainly\nhealthy, and our buildings are not so substantial as to cause much\ndifficulty in shifting our quarters if necessary. The language is very\nhard, but when it is one's business to learn a thing, it is done after a\nwhile as a matter of course.\n\n'We have quite made up our mind that New Zealand itself is the right\nplace for the head-quarters of the Mission. True, the voyage is long,\nand lads can only be kept there five or six months of the year, but the\nadvantages of a tolerably settled state of society are so great, and\nthe opportunities of showing the Melanesians the working of an English\nsystem are so many, that I think now with the Bishop that New Zealand\nshould be the place for the summer school in preference to any other. I\ndid not think so at one time, and was inclined to advocate the plan of\nnever bringing the lads out of the tropics, but I think now that there\nare so many good reasons for bringing the lads to New Zealand that we\nmust hope to keep them by good food and clothing safe from colds and\ncoughs. Norfolk Island would have been in some ways a very good place,\nbut there is no hope now of our being settled there....\n\n'I can hardly have quite the same control over lads brought to an island\nitself wholly uncivilised as I can have over them in New Zealand, but as\na rule, Melanesians are very tractable. Certainly I would sooner have\nmy present school to manage, forty-five of all ages from nine to perhaps\ntwenty-seven or eight, from twelve or thirteen islands, speaking at\nleast eight languages, than half the number of English boys, up to all\nsorts of mischief....\n\n'Thank you, dear uncle, for the Xavier; a little portable book is very\nnice for taking on board ship, and I dare say I may read some of his\nletters in sight of many a heathen island....\n\n'Good-bye, my dear Uncle.\n\n'Your affectionate and grateful nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\n'Savages are all Fridays, if you know how to treat them' is a saying of\nPatteson's in one of his letters, and a true one. In truth, there was no\nword that he so entirely repudiated as this of savage, and the courtesy\nand untutored dignity of many of his native friends fully justified his\nview, since it was sure to be called forth by his own conduct towards\nthem.\n\nThe chiefs, having a great idea of their own importance, and being used\nto be treated like something sacred, and never opposed, were the most\ndifficult people to deal with, and in the present voyage there was a\ntime of great anxiety respecting a young chief named Aroana, from the\ngreat isle of Malanta. He fell into an agony of nervous excitement lest\nhe should never see his island again, an attack of temporary insanity\ncame on, and he was so strong that Mr. Patteson could not hold him down\nwithout the help of the Bishop and another, and it was necessary to tie\nhim down, as he attempted to injure himself. He soon recovered, and the\ncooler latitudes had a beneficial effect on him, but there was reason\nto fear that in Malanta the restraint might be regarded as an outrage on\nthe person of a chief.\n\nThe voyage safely ended on the night of the 16th of November. Here is\npart of a letter to Mr. Edward Coleridge, written immediately after\nreading the letters that had been waiting in Auckland:--\n\n\n'My father writes:--\"My tutor says that there must be a Melanesian\nBishop soon, and that you will be the man,\" a sentence which amused me\nnot a little.\n\n'The plan is that the Bishop should gradually take more and more\ntime for the islands, as he transfers to the General Synod all deeds,\ndocuments, everything for which he was corporation sole, and as he\npasses over to various other Bishops portions of New Zealand. Finally,\nretaining only the north part of the northern island, to take the\nMelanesian Bishopric.\n\n'I urged this plan upon him very strongly one day, when somewhere about\nlat. 12\u00b0 S. (I fancy) he pressed me to talk freely about the matter. I\nsaid: \"One condition only I think should be present to your mind, viz.,\nthat you must not give up the native population in New Zealand,\" and to\nthis he assented.\n\n'If, dear tutor, you really were not in joke, just try to find some\ngood man who would come and place himself under the Bishop's direction\nunreservedly, and in fact be to him much what I am + the ability and\nearnestness, &c. Seriously, I am not at all fitted to do anything but\nwork under a good man. Of course, should I survive the Bishop, and no\nother man come out, why it is better that the ensign should assume the\ncommand than to give up the struggle altogether. But this of course is\npure speculation. The Bishop is hearty, and, I pray God, may be Bishop\nof Melanesia for twenty years to come, and by that time there will be\nmany more competent men than I ever shall be to succeed him, to say\nnothing of possible casualties, climate, &c.\n\n'Good-bye, my dear Uncle; kind love to all.\n\n'Your loving nephew and pupil,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe three women and the two babies were disposed of in separate houses,\nbut their husbands, with thirty-nine other Melanesians, four Norfolk\nIslanders, two printers, Mr. Dudley and Mr. Patteson, made up the\ndinner-party every day in the hall of St. John's College. 'Not a\nlittle happy I feel at the head of my board, with two rows of merry,\nhappy-looking Melanesians on either side of me!'\n\nThe coughs, colds, and feverish attacks of these scholars were the only\ndrawback; the slightest chill made them droop; and it was a subject of\njoy to have any day the full number in hall, instead of one or two lying\nill in their tutor's own bed-chamber.\n\nOn the 29th of December came the exceeding joy of the arrival of the\nJudge and Mrs. Martin, almost straight from Feniton, ready to talk\nuntiringly of everyone there. On the New Year's day of 1859 there was a\njoyful thanksgiving service at Taurarua for their safe return, at which\nall the best Church people near were present, and when John Cho made his\nfirst Communion.\n\nOn the 20th these much-loved friends came to make a long stay at the\nCollege, and the recollections they preserved of that time have thus\nbeen recorded by Lady Martin. It will be remembered that she had parted\nfrom him during the year of waiting and irregular employment:\n\n'We were away from New Zealand nearly three years. We had heard at\nFeniton dear Coley's first happy letters telling of his voyages to the\nislands in 1856-7, letters all aglow with enthusiasm about these places\nand people. One phrase I well remember, his kindly regret expressed for\nthose whose lot is not cast among the Melanesian islands. On our\nreturn we went to live for some months at St. John's College, where Mr.\nPatteson was then settled with a large party of scholars.\n\n'We soon found that a great change had passed over our dear friend. His\nwhole mind was absorbed in his work. He was always ready, indeed, to\nlisten to anything there was to tell about his dear father; but about\nour foreign travels, his favourite pictures, the scenes of which we had\nheard so much from him, he would listen for a few minutes, but was sure\nin a little while to have worked round to Melanesia in general, or to\nhis boys in particular, or to some discussion with my husband on the\nstructure of their many languages and dialects. It was then that\nBishop Abraham said that when the two came to their ninth meaning of a\nparticle, he used to go to sleep.\n\n'There were a very fine intelligent set of young men from the Loyalty\nIslands, some sleepy, lazy ones from Mai, some fierce, wild-looking lads\nfrom the Solomon Islands who had long slits in their ears and bone horns\nstuck in their frizzly hair. Mr. Patteson could communicate with all\nmore or less easily, and his readily delicate hearing enabled him to\ndistinguish accurately sounds which others could not catch--wonderful\nmp and piv and mbw which he was trying to get hold of for practical\npurposes.\n\n'He was in comfortable quarters, in one long low room, with a sunny\naspect. It looked fit for a student, with books all about, and pictures,\nand photos of loved friends and places on the walls, but he had no mind\nto enjoy it alone. There was sure to be some sick lad there, wrapped up\nin his best rugs, in the warmest nook by the fire. He had morning and\nafternoon school daily in the large schoolroom, Mr. Dudley and Mr. Lask\nassisting him. School-keeping, in its ordinary sense, was a drudgery\nto him, and very distasteful. He had none of that bright lively way and\nreadiness in catechising which made some so successful in managing a\nlarge class of pupils at once, but every person in the place loved\nto come to the evening classes in his own room, where, in their own\nlanguage, he opened to them the Scriptures and spoke to them of the\nthings pertaining to the kingdom of God. It was in those private classes\nthat he exercised such wonderful influence; his musical voice, his holy\nface, his gentle manner, all helping doubtless to impress and draw even\nthe dullest. Long after this he told me once how after these evening\nclasses, one by one, some young fellow or small boy would come back with\na gentle tap at the door, \"I want to talk to you,\" and then and there\nthe heart would be laid open, and counsel asked of the beloved teacher.\n\n'It was very pleasant to see him among his boys. They all used to go off\nfor a walk on Saturday with him, sometimes to town, and he as full of\nfun with them as if they had been a party of Eton boys. He had none of\nthe conventional talk, so fatal to all true influence, about degraded\nheathen. They were brethren, ignorant indeed, but capable of acquiring\nthe highest wisdom. It was a joke among some of us, that when asked the\nmeaning of a Nengone term of endearment he answered naively, \"Oh, it\nmeans old fellow.\" He brought his fresh, happy, kindly feelings towards\nEnglish lads and young men into constant play among Melanesians, and so\nthey loved and trusted him.'\n\nI think that exclusiveness of interest which Lady Martin describes, and\nwhich his own family felt, and which is apt to grow upon missionaries,\nas indeed on every one who is very earnestly engaged in any work,\ndiminished as he became more familiar with his work, and had a mind more\nat liberty for thought.\n\nMr. Dudley thus describes the same period:--'It was during the summers\nof 1857-8 and 1858-9 that the Loyalty Islanders mustered in such numbers\nat St. John's College, as it was supposed that they, at least Lifu would\nbe left in the hands of the Church of England. Mr. Patteson worked very\nhard these years at translations, and there was an immense enthusiasm\nabout printing, the Lifuites and Nengonese striving each to get the most\nin their own language.\n\n'Never shall I forget the evening service during those years held in\nthe College chapel, consisting of one or two prayers in Bauro, Gera,\nand other languages, and the rest in Nengonese, occasionally changing\nto Lifu, when Mr. Patteson used to expound the passage of Scripture\nthat had been translated in school during the day. Usually the Loyalty\nIslanders would take notes of the sermon while it went on, but now and\nthen it was simply impossible, for although his knowledge of Nengonese\nat that time, as compared with what it was afterwards, was very limited,\nand his vocabulary a small one from which to choose his expressions, he\nwould sometimes speak with such intense earnestness and show himself\nso thoroughly en rapport with the most intelligent of his hearers, that\nthey were compelled to drop their papers and pencils, and simply to to\nlisten. I remember one evening in particular. For some little time past\nthe conduct of the men, especially the married men, had not been at all\nsatisfactory. The married couples had the upper house, and John Cho,\nSimeona, and Kapua had obtained a draught-board, and had regularly given\nthemselves up to draught-playing, night and day, neglecting all the\nhousehold duties they were expected to perform, to the great annoyance\nof their wives, who had to carry the water, and do their husbands' work\nin other ways as well their own. This became soon known to Mr. Patteson,\nand without saying anything directly to the men, he took one evening as\nhis subject in chapel those words of our Lord, \"If thy hand or thy foot\noffend thee,\" &c., and spoke as you know he did sometimes speak, and\nevidently was entirely carried out of himself, using the Nengonese with\na freedom which showed him to be thinking in it as he went on, and\nwith a face only to be described as \"the face of an angel.\" We all\nsat spellbound. John Cho, Simeona, and the other walked quietly away,\nwithout saying a word, and in a day or two afterwards I learnt from John\nthat he had lain awake that night thinking over the matter, that fear\nhad come upon him, lest he might be tempted again, and jumping up\ninstantly, he had taken the draught-board from the place where he had\nleft it and had cast it into the embers of their fire.\n\n'Many and many a time was I the recipient of his thoughts, walking\nwith him up and down the lawn in front of the cottage buildings of an\nevening, when he would try to talk himself clear. You may imagine what\na willing listener I was, whatever he chose to talk upon, and he often\nspoke very freely to me, I being for a long time his only resident white\ncompanion. It was not long before I felt I knew his father well, and\nreverenced him deeply. He never was tired of talking of his home, and\nof former days at Eton and Oxford, and then while travelling on the\nContinent. Often and often during those early voyages have I stood or\nsat by his side on the deck of the \"Southern Cross,\" as in the evening,\nafter prayers, he stood there for hours, dressed in his clerical attire,\nall but the grey tweed cap, one hand holding the shrouds, and looking\nout to windward like a man who sees afar off all the scenes he was\ndescribing.'\n\nThinking over those times since, one understands better far than one did\nat the time the reality of the sacrifice he had made in devoting himself\nfor life to a work so far away from those he loved best on earth.\n\nThe Bishop of Wellington, for to that see Archdeacon Abraham had been\nconsecrated while in England, arrived early in March, and made a short\nstay at the College, during which he confirmed eleven and baptized one\nof Patteson's flock. Mrs. Abraham and her little boy remained at the\nCollege, while her husband went on to prepare for her at Wellington,\nand thus there was much to make the summer a very pleasant one, only\nchequered by frequent anxieties about the health of the pupils, as\nrepeated experiments made it apparent that the climate of St. John's was\ntoo cold for them. Another anxiety was respecting Lifu for the\nLondon Missionary Society, had, after all, undertaken to supply two\nmissionaries from England, and it was a most doubtful and delicate\nquestion whether the wishes of the natives or the established principle\nof noninterference with pre-occupied ground, ought to have most weight.\nThe Primate was so occupied by New Zealand affairs that he wrote to\nMr. Patteson to decide it himself and he could but wait to be guided by\ncircumstances on the spot.\n\nTo Mr. Edward Coleridge he writes on the 18th of March:--\n\n\n'I have many and delightful talks with Mr. Martin on our languages. We\nsee already how strong an infusion of Polynesian elements exists in\nthe Melanesian islands. With the language of four groups we are fairly\nacquainted now, besides some of the distinguishing dialects, which\ndiffer very much from one another; nevertheless, I think that by-and-by\nwe shall connect them all if we live; but as some dialects may have\ndropped out altogether, we may want a few links in the chain to\ndemonstrate the connection fully to people at a distance. It is a great\nrefreshment to me to work out these matters, and the Judge kindly looked\nup the best books that exist in all the Polynesian languages, so that we\ncan found our induction upon a comparison of all the dialects now from\nthe Solomon Islands to the Marquesas, with the exception of the Santa\nCruz archipelago. We have been there two or three times, but the people\nare so very numerous and noisy, that we never have had a chance as yet\nof getting into a quiet talk (by signs, &c.) with any of the people.\n\n'Still, as we know some Polynesian inhabitants of a neighbouring isle\nwho have large sea canoes, and go to Santa Cruz, we may soon get one of\nthem to go with us, and so have an interpreter, get a lad or two, and\nlearn the language.\n\n'We are sadly in want of men; yet we cannot write to ask persons to\ncome out for this work who may be indisposed, when they arrive in\nNew Zealand, to carry out the particular system on which the Bishop\nproceeds. Any man who would come out and consent to spend a summer at\nthe Melanesian school in New Zealand in order to learn his work, and\nwould give up any preconceived notions of his own about the way to\nconduct missionary work that might militate against the Bishop's\nplan--such a man would be, of course, the very person we want; but we\nmust try to make people understand that half-educated men will not do\nfor this work. Men sent out as clergymen to the mission-field who would\nnot have been thought fit to receive Holy Orders at home, are not at all\nthe men we want. It is not at all probable that such men would really\nunderstand the natives, love them, and live with them; but they would be\ngreat dons, keeping the natives at a distance, assuming that they could\nhave little in common, &c.--ideas wholly destructive of success in\nmissionary, or in any work. That pride of race which prompts a white man\nto regard coloured people as inferior to himself, is strongly ingrained\nin most men's minds, and must be wholly eradicated before they will ever\nwin the hearts, and thus the souls of the heathen.\n\n'What a preachment, as usual, about Melanesia!...\n\n'Your loving old Pupil and Nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nNext follows a retrospective letter:--\n\n\n'April 1, 1859: St. John's College.\n\n'My dearest Father,--Thirty-two years old to-day! Well, it is a solemn\nthing to think that one has so many days and months and years to account\nfor. Looking back, I see how fearfully I wasted opportunities which\nI enjoyed, of which, I fancy, I should now avail myself gladly; but I\ndon't know that I fancy what is true, for my work now, though there\nis plenty of it, is desultory, and I dare say hard application,\ncontinuously kept up, would be as irksome to me as ever.\n\n'It seems very strange to me that I never found any pleasure in\nclassical studies formerly. Now, the study of the languages for its own\nsake even is so attractive to rue that I should enjoy working out the\nexact and delicate powers of Greek particles, &c.; but I never cared for\nit till it was too late, and the whole thing was drudgery to me. I\nhad no appreciation, again, of Historians, or historians; only thought\nThucydides difficult and Herodotus prosy(!!), and Tacitus dull, and Livy\napparently easy and really very hard. So, again, with the poets; and\nmost of all I found no interest (fancy!) in Plato and Aristotle. They\nwere presented to me as merely school books; not as the great effort of\nthe cultivated heathen mind to solve the riddle of man's being; and\nI, in those days, never thought of comparing the heathen and Christian\nethics, and the great writers had no charm for me.\n\n'Then my French. If I had really taken any pains with old Tarver in old\ndays--and it was your special wish that I should do so--how useful it\nwould be to me now; whereas, though I get on after a sort, I don't speak\nat all as I ought to do, and might have learnt to do. It is sad to look\nback upon all the neglected opportunities; and it is not only that I\nhave not got nearly (so to speak) a quantity of useful materials for\none's work in the present time, but that I find it very hard to shake\noff desultory habits. I suppose all persons have to make reflections of\nthis kind, more or less sad; but, somehow, I feel it very keenly now:\nfor certainly I did waste time sadly; and it so happens that I have\njust had \"Tom Brown's Schooldays\" lent me, and that I spent some time in\nreading it on this particular day, and, of course, my Eton life rose up\nbefore me. What a useful book that is! A real gain for a young person to\nhave such a book. That is very much the kind of thing that would really\nhelp a boy--manly, true, and plain.\n\n'I hear from Sydney by last mail that the Bishop is really desirous to\nrevive the long dormant Board of Missions. He means to propose to send\na priest and a deacon to every island ready for them, and to provide for\nthem--if they are forthcoming, and funds. Of this latter I have not much\ndoubt....\n\n'April 24--I have to get ready for three English full services\nto-morrow, besides Melanesian ditto.--So goodbye, my dearest Father,\n\n'Your loving and dutiful Son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nSir John Patteson might well say, in a letter of this summer, to Bishop\nSelwyn:--\n\n'As to my dear boy Coley, I am more and more thankful every day that I\nagreed to his wishes; and in whatever situation he may be placed, feel\nconfident that his heart will be in his work, and that he will do God\nservice. He will be contented to work under any one who may be appointed\nBishop of Melanesia (or any other title), or to be the Bishop himself.\nIf I judge truly, he has no ambitious views, and only desires that he\nmay be made as useful as his powers enable him to be, whether in a high\nor subordinate situation.'\n\nNothing could be more true than this. There was a general sense of the\nprobability that Mr. Patteson must be the first Missionary Bishop; but\nhe continued to work on at the immediate business, always keeping the\nschemes and designs which necessarily rose in his mind ready to be\nsubjected to the control of whomsoever might be set over him. The cold\nhad set in severely enough to make it needful to carry off his 'party of\ncoughing, shivering Melanesians' before Easter, and the 'Southern Cross'\nsailed on the 18th. Patteson took with him a good store of coffee,\nsugar, and biscuits, being uncertain whether he should or should not\nagain remain at Lifu.\n\nIn the outward voyage he only landed his pupils there, and then went\non to the Banks Islands, where Sarawia was returned at Vanua Lava, and\nafter Mr. Patteson had spent a pleasant day among the natives, Mota was\nvisited next after.\n\n'May 24.--On Monday, at 3 P.M., we sailed from Port Patteson across\nto Mota. Here I landed among 750 people and the boat returned to the\nvessel. She was to keep up to windward during the night and call for me\nthe next morning. I walked with my large following, from the teach, up\na short steep path, to the village, near to which, indeed only 200 yards\noff, is another considerable village. The soil is excellent; the houses\ngood--built round the open space which answers to the green in\nour villages, and mighty banyan trees spreading their lofty and\nwide-branching arms above and around them. The side walls of these\nhouses are not more than two feet high, made only of bamboos lashed by\ncocoa-nut fibre, or wattled together, and the long sloping roofs nearly\ntouch ground but within they are tolerably clean and quite dry. The moon\nwas in the first quarter, and the scene was striking as I sat out in\nthe open space with some 200 people crowding round me--men, women and\nchildren; fires in front where yams were roasting; the dark brown forms\nglancing to and fro in the flickering light; the moon's rays quivering\ndown through the vast trees, and the native hollow drum beating at\nintervals to summon the people to the monthly feast on the morrow. I\nslept comfortably on a mat in a cottage with many other persons in\nit. Much talk I had with a large concourse outside, and again in this\ncottage, on Christianity; and all were quiet when I knelt down as usual\nand said my evening prayers. Up at 5.30 A.M., and walked up a part of\nthe Sugar Loaf peak, from which the island derives its English name, and\nfound a small clear stream, flowing, through a rocky bed, back to the\nvillage, where were some 300 people assembled; sat some time with them,\nthen went to the beach, where the boat soon came for me.\n\n'After this there was a good deal of bad weather; but all the lads were\nrestored to their islands, including Aroana, the young Malanta chief,\nwho had begun by a fit of frenzy, but had since behaved well; and who\nleft his English friends with a promise to do all in his power to tame\nhis people and cure them of cannibalism.'\n\nThen came some foul winds and hot exhausting weather.\n\n'I have done little more than read Stanley's \"Sinai and Palestine,\" and\nHelps's \"Spanish America,\" two excellent books and most delightful\nto me. The characters in the Spanish conquest of Mexico and America\ngenerally; the whole question of the treatment of natives; and that\nnobleman, Las Casas--are more intelligible to me than to most persons\nprobably. The circumstances of my present life enable me to realise it\nto a greater extent.\n\n'Then I have been dipping into a little ethnology; yesterday a little\nPlato; but it is almost too hot for anything that requires a working\nhead-piece. You know I take holiday time this voyage when we are in open\nwater and no land near, and it is great relaxation to me.'\n\nA pretty severe gale of wind followed, a sharp test of Patteson's\nseamanship.\n\n'Then came one day of calm, when we all got our clothes dry, and the\ndeck and rigging looked like an old clothes' shop. Then we got a fairish\nbreeze; but we can get nothing in moderation. Very soon it blew up\ninto a strong breeze, and here we are lying to with a very heavy sea.\nLandsmen would call it mountainous, I suppose. I am tired, for I have\nhad an anxious time; and we have had but one quiet night for an age, and\nthen I slept from 9.30 P.M. to 7.30 A.M. continuously. 'It may be that\nthis is very good training for me. Indeed it must give me more coolness\nand confidence. I felt pleased as well as thankful when we made the\nexact point of Nengone that I had calculated upon, and at the exact\ntime.'\n\nOn the 20th of June, Auckland harbour was safely attained; but the\ncoming back without scholars did not make much of holiday time for their\nmaster, who was ready to give help to other clergymen whenever it might\nbe needed, though, in fact, this desultory occupation always tried him\nmost.\n\nOn the 25th of July he says:--\n\n'I have had a sixty miles' walk since I wrote last; some part of it over\nwild country. I lost my way once or twice and got into some swamps, but\nI had my little pocket-compass.\n\n'My first day was eighteen miles in pouring rain; no road, in your sense\nof the word; but a good warm room and tea at the end. Next day on the\nmove all day, by land and water, seeing settlers scattered about. Third\nday, Sunday, services at two different places. Fourth day, walk of\nsome twenty-seven miles through unknown regions baptizing children\nat different places; and reaching, after divers adventures, a very\nhospitable resting-place at 8 p.m. in the dark. Next day an easy walk\ninto Auckland and Taurarua. Yesterday, Sunday, very wet day. Man-of-war\ngig came down for me at 9.15 A.M., took the service on board; 11 A.M.\nSt. Paul's service; afternoon, hospital, a mile or so off; 6 P.M., St.\nPaul's evening service; 8.30, arrived at Taurarua dripping.'\n\nThe same letter replies to one from home:--\n\n'I thank you, my dear father, for writing so fully about yourself, and\nespecially, for seeing and stating so plainly your full conviction that\nI ought not to think of returning to England. It would, as you say,\nhumanly speaking, interfere most seriously with the prospects of the\nMission. Some dear friends write to me differently, but they don't quite\nunderstand, as you have taken pains to do, what our position is out\nhere; and they don't see that my absence would involve great probable\ninjury to the whole work.\n\n'It is curious how few there are who know anything of New Zealand and\nMelanesia!\n\n'Of course it is useless to speculate on the future, but I see nothing\nat all to make it likely that I shall ever revisit England. I can't\nvery well conceive any such state of things as would make it a duty to\ngratify my constant inclination. And, my dear father, I don't scruple to\nsay (for you will understand me) that I am happier here than I should be\nin England, where, even though I were absent only a few months, I should\nbear about with me the constant weight of knowing that Melanesia was not\nprovided for. And, strange as it may seem, this has quite ceased to be a\ntrial to me. The effort of subduing the longing desire to see you is\nno longer a great one: I feel that I am cheerful and bright, and\nlight-hearted, and that I have really everything to make a man thankful\nand contented.\n\n'And if you could see the thankful look of the Bishop, when he is again\nassured that there is no item of regret or desire to call me home on\nyour part, you would feel, I know, that colonial work does require,\nespecially, an unconditional unreserved surrender of a man to whatever\nhe may find to do.'\n\nBut while admiring the noble spirit in which the son held fast his post,\nand the father forebore to unsettle him there, let not their example\nhe used in the unkind and ignorant popular cry against the occasional\nreturn of colonial Bishops. For, be it remembered, that dire necessity\nwas not drawing Coleridge Patteson to demand pecuniary assistance round\nall the platforms of English towns. The Eton, and the Australian and New\nZealand Associations, supplemented by the Society for the Propagation of\nthe Gospel and his own family, relieved him from the need of having to\nmaintain his Mission by such means. All these letters are occupied with\nthe arrangements for raising means for removing the Melanesian College\nto a less bleak situation, and it is impossible to read them without\nfeeling what a difference it made to have a father who did not view\ngiving to God's work as robbing his family.\n\nOn the 13th of August, Patteson was on board, preparing for the voyage;\nvery cold, and eager for the tropics. The parting voice in his farewell\nletter is: 'I think I see more fully that work, by the power of God's\nSpirit, is the condition of us all in this world; tiny and insignificant\nas the greatest work of the greatest men is, in itself, yet the one\ntalent is to be used.'\n\nIt was meant to be a farewell letter, but another followed in the\nleisure, while waiting for the Bishop to embark, with some strong (not\nto say fiery) opinions on the stern side of duty:--\n\n'I feel anxious to try to make some of the motives intelligible, upon\nwhich we colonial folk act sometimes. First. I think that we get\na stronger sense of the necessity for dispensing with that kind of\ncourtesy and good nature which sometimes interferes with duty than\npeople do in England.\n\n'So a man placed as I am (for example) really cannot oftentimes avoid\nletting it be seen that work must come first; and, by degrees, one\nsympathises less than one possibly should do with drones and idlers in\nthe hive, and feels it wrong to assent to a scheme which lets a real\nwork suffer for the sake of acquiescing in a conventional recognition of\ncomfort, claims of society, &c.\n\n'Would the general of an army say to his officers, \"Pray, gentlemen,\ndon't dirty your boots or fatigue your horses to succour the inhabitants\nof a distant village\"? Or a captain to his mates and middies: \"Don't\nturn out, don't go aloft. It is a thing hard, and you might get wet\"?\n\n'And the difference between us and people at home sometimes is, that we\ndon't see why a clergyman is not as much bound as an officer in the army\nor navy to do what he is pledged of his own act to do; and that at home\nthe 'parsonage and pony-carriage' delusion practically makes men forget\nthis. I forget it as much as any man, and should very likely never have\nseen the mistake but for my coming to New Zealand; and it is one of the\ngreat blessings we enjoy.\n\n'There is a mighty work to be done. God employs human agents, and the\nBible tells us what are the rules and conditions of their efficiency.\n\n'\"Oh! but, poor man, he has a sickly wife!\" Yes, but, \"it remaineth that\nthose who have wives be as they that have none.\"\n\n'True, but the case of a large family? \"Whosoever loveth child more than\nme,\" &c.\n\n'Second. The fact that we live almost without servants makes us more\nindependent, and also makes us acquainted with the secrets of each\nother's housekeeping, &c. All that artificial intercourse which depends\na good deal upon a well-fitted servants' hall does not find place here.\nMore simple and more plain and homely in speech and act is our life in\nthe colonies--e.g., you meet me carrying six or seven loaves from town\nto the college. \"Oh, I knew that the Bishop had to meet some persons\nthere to-day, and I felt nearly sure there would be no breakfast then.\"\nOf course an English person thinks, \"Why didn't he send the bread?\" To\nwhich I answer, \"Who was there to send?\"\n\n'I don't mean that I particularly like turning myself into a miller one\nday and a butcher the next; but that doing it as a matter of course,\nwhere there is no one else to do it, one does sometimes think it\nunreasonable to say, as has been said to the Bishop:--\"Two thousand\npounds a year you want for your Mission work!\" \"Yes,\" said the\nBishop, \"and not too much for sailing over ten thousand miles, and for\neducating, clothing, and feeding some forty young men!\"\n\n'I mean that conventional notions in England are preventing people from\nreally doing half what they might do for the good of the needy.\n\n'I don't know how this might be said to be a theory tending to\nrevolutionise society; but I think I do know that there is a kind of\nreligious common sense which comes in to guide people in such matters.\nOnly, I do not think it right to admit that plea for not doing more in\nthe way of almsgiving which is founded upon the assumption that first\nof all a certain position in society must be kept up, which involves\ncertain expenditure.\n\n'A barrister is living comfortably on \u00a3800 a year, or a clergyman in\nhis living of \u00a3400. The professional income of the one increases, and a\nfatter living is given to the other, or some money is left them. What\ndo they do? Instantly start a carriage, another servant, put the\njack-of-all-trades into a livery, turn the buttons into a flunkey, and\nthe village girl into a ladies' maid! Is this really right? They were\nwell enough before. Why not use the surplus for some better purpose?\n\n'I imagine that we, the clergy, are chiefly to blame, for not only not\nprotesting against, but most contentedly acquiescing in such a state of\nthings. You ask now for something really demanding a sacrifice. \"I can't\nafford it.\" \"What, not to rescue that village from starvation? not to\nenable that good man to preach the Gospel to people only accessible by\nmeans of such an outlay on his vessel, &c.? Give up your carriage,\nyour opera box; don't have so many grand balls, &c. \"Oh no! it is all a\ncorban to the genius of society.\n\n'Now, is this Scriptural or not, my dear father? I don't mean that any\nindividual is justified in dictating to his neighbour, still less in\ncondemning him. But are not these the general principles of religion and\nmorality in the Bible? There are duties to society: but a good man\nwill take serious counsel as to what they are, and how far they may be\nmilitating against higher and holier claims.\n\n'August 24.--Why I wrote all this, my dearest father, I hardly know,\nonly I feel sure that unless men at home can, by taking real pains to\nthink about it, realise the peculiar circumstances of colonial life,\nthey will never understand any one of us.\n\n'I have written Fan a note in which I said something about my few\neffects if I should die.\n\n'One thing I should like to say to you, not as venturing to do more than\nlet you be in full possession of my own mind on the matter. Should I die\nbefore you die, would it be wrong for me to say, \"Make the Melanesian\nMission my heir\"?\n\n'It may be according to the view which generally obtains that the other\nthree should then divide my share. But now I would take what may seem\nthe hard view of which I have been writing, and say, \"They have enough\nto maintain them happily and comfortably.\" The Mission work without such\na bequest will be much endangered. I feel sure that they would wish\nit to be so, for, of course, you know that this large sum of which you\nwrite will be, if I survive you, regarded simply as a bequest to the\nMission in which I have a life interest, and the interest of which, in\nthe main, would be spent on the Mission.\n\n'But I only say plainly, without any reserve, what I have thought about\nit; not for one moment putting up my opinion against yours, of course,\nin case you take a contrary view.\n\n'We sail, I hope, to-morrow, but the Bishop is more busy than ever.\n\n'Again, my dearest Father,\n\n'Your loving and dutiful Son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe history of this voyage was, as usual, given in a long letter for the\nFeniton fireside; but there was a parallel journal also, kept for the\nBishop of Wellington, which is more condensed, and, therefore, better\nfor quotation.\n\nThe manner in which the interest in, and connection with all English\nfriends and relations was kept up is difficult to convey, though it was\na very loveable part of the character. Little comments of condolence or\ncongratulation, and messages of loving remembrance to persons mentioned\nby playful names, would only be troublesome to the reader; but it must\nbe taken for granted that every reply to a home packet was full of these\nevidences that the black children on a thousand isles had by no means\ndriven the cousins and friends of youth from a heart that was enlarged\nto have tenderness for all.\n\n\n'Lat. 9\u00b0 29' S.; Long. 163\u00b0 S.E. \"Southern Cross:\" October 9, 1859.\n\n'My dear Bishop,--We are on our way from Uleawa to the Santa Cruz group,\nhaving visited the Loyalty Islands, Southern New Hebrides, Banks Island\n(2), and Solomon Islands.\n\n'The Bishop so planned the voyage as to run down the wind quickly to\nthe Solomon Islands, and do the real work coming home; not, as usual,\nbeating up in the open water between the Santa Cruz archipelago, Banks\nIslands and New Hebrides to the east, and New Caledonia to the west. We\nare thus able to visit Vanua Lava on the way out and home also; and as\nwe meant to make the Banks Islands the great point this voyage, that\nwas, of course, great gain.\n\n'We touched at Norfolk Island.... Going on to Nengone we found everybody\naway at the distant yam grounds, and could not wait to see them.\n\n'At Lifu, the first thing that shocked us was John's appearance: one of\nthose fatal glandular swellings has already produced a great change in\nhim. He looked sallow and weak, and I fear ut sit vitalis. He spoke to\nme very calmly about his illness, which he thinks is unto death, and I\ndid not contradict him.\n\n'We had much private talk together. He is a fine fellow and, I believe,\na sincere Christian man. Then came the applications to us not to desert\nthem, and letters enumerating all the villages of Lifu almost without\nexception, and entreating us to suffer them to be connected with us, and\nwe had to answer that already two missionaries from the L. M. S. are\non their way from Sydney to Lifu, and that it would do harm to have two\nrival systems on the island. They acquiesced but not heartily, and it\nwas a sad affair altogether, all parties unhappy and dissatisfied, and\nyet unable to solve the difficulty. Then came a talk with Angadhohua,\nJohn's half-brother, the real chief. The poor lad feels now what a\nterrible thing it will be for him and his people if they should lose\nJohn. Nothing can be nicer than his way of talking: \"I know you don't\nthink me firm enough, and that I am easily led by others. What am I to\ndo if John dies? We all respect him. He has been taught so much, and\npeople all listen to him.\" I gave him the best advice that I could\nand longed to be able to do something for him and his people. It was,\nhowever, a comfort to leave with them St. Mark, Scripture books, &c.\n\n'We called at Tanna, to see poor Mr. Paton, who lost his wife last\nApril. He is living on there quite alone, and has already lived down the\nfirst angry opposition of some of the people, and the unkind treatment\nthat he received from men and women alike who mocked him because of his\nwife's death, &c. He has had much fever and looked very ill, but his\nheart was in his work; and the Bishop said he seemed to be one of the\nweak things which God hath chosen. I know he made me feel pretty well\nashamed of myself.\n\n'Next day we spent a few hours with Mr. and Mrs. Gordon at Erromango. He\nhas a small house on the high table-land overlooking Dillon's Bay, and\ncertainly is exposed to winds which may, for aught I know, rival those\nof Wellington notoriety. The situation is, however, far preferable in\nthe summer to that on the beach, which is seldom free from malaria and\nague.\n\n'Then we sailed to the great bay of Pango, landed at Fate a fellow\nwho had come to the Bishop in New Zealand for a passage, and in the\nafternoon sailed away through \"the Pool\" (the landlocked space between\nMallicolo and Espiritu Santo to the west; Aspee, Ambrym, Whitsuntide,\nAurora to the east), where for eighty miles the water is always smooth,\nthe wind always steady, the scenery always lovely, and where, on this\noccasion, the volcano was bright.\n\n'Being nearly becalmed to the south-east of Leper's Isle, the Bishop\ngave me the choice of a visit to Whitsuntide or Leper's Island. I voted\nfor the latter, and delighted we were to renew an acquaintance made two\nyears ago, and not since kept up, with these specially nice people. We\nwere recognised at once, but we have a very small vocabulary.\n\n'The sea was running heavily into the bay, but it is sand there and not\nmuch rock on the beach, and we had a jolly swim ashore. Then we bought a\nfew yams, which the surf did not permit us to get to the boat, and had\na very pleasant visit; for, as we sat among them, words came into one's\nhead, or were caught from their mouth, and at the end of twenty minutes\nwe were getting on a little. The old chief took me by the hand and led\nme aside to the spot where the ladies were assembled, and divining no\ndoubt that I was a bachelor, politely offered me his daughter, and his\nprotection, &c., if I would live among them.\n\n'I missed seeing the Bishop knocked clean over by the breakers as he\nwas swimming off to the boat; I was still talking to the people, with my\nback to the sea, and only saw him staggering to his feet again. Thinking\nto myself that if he was knocked over, I had better look out, I awaited\na \"smooth\" and swam out comfortably.\n\n'The next morning (Sunday) at ten, we dropped anchor in Port Patteson,\nthe harbour which you know the Bishop would call after my father. The\nfirst person who came off to us was Sarawia, my old Lifu pupil, from\nthis island! Then came a good many men. I told them there would be no\ngoing ashore and no trading till the next day. Palemana, your friend\nMatawathki, &c., were at church, all dressed and well-behaved. What nice\norderly people they are, to be sure!\n\n'The next day we bought lots of yams, and gave away seeds and\nfruit-trees, or rather planted them; and looked for a place for a\nstation, and fixed at last on the rising-ground which forms the east\nside of the harbour, and the Bishop, arming himself with an axe, led\na party to clear the bush, which was very thick. They made a fair path\nthrough in one afternoon to the top, and a healthy place might be found\nnow with little trouble to return to at night from the schools, &c. in\nthe village below, and so shirk the malaria.\n\n'But the next day, as I had anticipated, rather changed his intentions\nas to the principal station being formed at Vanua Lava. We landed at\nSugar Loaf Island, and with something of pride I showed off to him the\nbeauties of the villages where I slept in May last--the dry soil,\nthe spring of water, the wondrous fertility, the large and remarkably\nintelligent, well-looking population, the great banyan tree,\ntwenty-seven paces round--and at once he said, \"This is such a place as\nI have seen nowhere else for our purpose.\"\n\n'The Bishop had seen this island before I was with him, during one of\nthe \"Border Maid's\" voyages, and knew the people, of course, but had not\nhappened to have walked in shore at all, and so the exceeding beauty and\nfitness of the island for a Mission station had not become so apparent\nto him. We know of no place where there seems to be such an unusual\ncombination of everything that can be desired, humanly speaking, for\nsuch an institution. So that is settled (D.V.) that next winter I\nshould be here, if alive and well; and that the Banks Islands should be\nregarded as the central point of the Mission.\n\n'Such boys! Bright-eyed, merry fellows, many really handsome; of that\nreddish yellow tinge of colour which betokens affinity with Polynesian\nraces, as their language also testifies. The majority of the people\nwere pleasing in their appearance and manner. Well, all this was very\nhopeful, and we went off very happy, taking Eumau, the boy who first met\nus at Port Patteson when we found it out, and old Wompas (who was with\nme at Lifu), and another from Mota, to see the Northern Islands.\n\n'I think our work is more likely now to revolve upon a fixed\ncentre--Sugar Loaf Island in the Banks group--that we shall make the\noccupation of the group the first ohject, and do all with reference to\nthat as the necessary part of the work to be attended to first. In the\nchoice of scholars, e.g., we have considered whether we should not limit\nour selection to such as might pass the next winter with me at Sugar\nLoaf Island, and so that the vessel need not run down to leeward of it.\nSolomon Islands are the extreme verge. In the East Island, where there\nwould be merely a question of nothing or something, we may take very\nyoung men who would perhaps not be easy to keep out of harm at Sugar\nLoaf, because there will be no difficulty about returning them to their\nhomes....\n\n'November 11th.--We found in the Santa Cruz group that the news of\nCaptain Front's and his two men's death in Vanikoro, and (as we suppose)\nthe news of the \"Cordelia\" having been at that island to inquire into\nthe matter, had made the people anxious, uneasy, noisy, and rather\nrude. That poor man went to make a station at Vanikoro in the usual way,\ntaking three poor New Caledonian women with him. The Vanikoro people\nkilled the three English and took away the women.\n\n'We did not land at Sta. Cruz, but we had a more pleasant intercourse\nthan heretofore with thirty or forty canoes' crews.\n\n'Timelin Island we ascertained to be identical with Nukapu, an old\nfamiliar place whose latitude we had not ascertained correctly before.\nThe small reef (Polynesian) islands did not give us so good a reception\nas last year, though there was no unfriendliness. The news about\nVanikoro had made them suspicious of visits from white men. But they\nwill be all right by next time....\n\n'We saw a pleasant party at Bligh Island, brought away one young man\nfrom that island, and two lads belonging to a neighbouring small island\ncalled Eowa. The next day we watered on the north side of Vanua Lava,\nand in the evening went across to Santa Maria. Here we landed on the\nnext day among two hundred or more people, shy and noisy. We bought a\nfew yams, and I detected some young fellows stealing from our little\nheap I would not overlook this, but the noticing it made them more\nsuspicious that we meant to hurt them. As the Bishop and I, after some\ntwenty minutes, turned to rejoin the boat, the whole crowd bolted like\na shot right and left into the bush. Evidently they must have had some\ntrading crew tire a parting shot in mere wantonness at them from their\nboat. I expected some arrows to be shot at us; but they did not shoot\nany.\n\n'The same evening (Saturday) we stood across the passage with a brisk\nbreeze, and took up our party, consisting of five and including Sarawia\nand four others anciently noted as promising in appearance....\n\n'We reached Mota (Sugar Loaf Island) in time to leave me for a night's\nvisit to the people. I had time before the boat called next day at noon\nto see five or six of their villages. People quite accustomed to expect\nme--all most friendly, apparently pleased to be told that I would stop\nwith them in the winter. Seven scholars joined us here....\n\n'At Mai, I slept in the house of Petere and Laure. Things are promising.\nIt is quite ready for a missionary. We brought away Moto, Pepeu, and the\ntwo young boys who were with me at Lifu, and very many wished to come.\n\n'Thence we had a very long passage to Lifu. John Cho is, I am thankful\nto say, very much better. The two men from the London Missionary Society\nare on the island.... The Lifu people tell me that in the north of\nthe island many are accepting the teaching of the two French priests.\nWilliam Martin Tahia and Chakham, a principal chief and old scholar, are\nwith us.\n\n'At Nengone, Wadrokala, George Simeona, and Harper Malo have come away\nfor good.... We number thirty-nine Melanesians.... This is a long letter\nwhich will try your patience.\n\n'Always, my dear Bishop,\n\n'Affectionately yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nAnother long letter was written during this voyage to Mr. Edward\nColeridge, a great portion of it on the expediency of the islands being\ntaken under British protection, also much respecting the Church of New\nZealand, which is scarcely relevant to the immediate subject, and only\nat the end is there anything more personal:--\n\n'The last accounts of my father were unusually good, but I well know\nwhat news may be awaiting our return from a voyage whether long or\nshort, and I try to be ready for any news; yet I suppose that I cannot\nat all realize what it would be. It makes some difference when the idea\nof meeting again in this world has been relinquished for now four and a\nhalf years, yet it is all very well to wait or think about it! I was not\nso upset by dear Uncle James's death as I should no doubt have been had\nI enjoyed the prospect of frequently seeing him. Somehow, when all ideas\nof time and space are annihilated by death, one must think about such\nseparations in a religious way: for separations in any other sense to us\nhere, from people in England, have already taken place. I must except,\nhowever, the loving wise letters, and the power of realising more\nclearly perhaps the occupations of those still in the body--their\naccustomed places and duties; though I suppose we can tell quite enough\nabout all this in the case of those who have died in the true faith of\nChrist to know, at all events, that we are brought and united to them\nwhenever we think or do anything religiously. I often think that this\nis well brought out in the \"Heir of Redclyffe\"--the loss of \"the bright\noutside,\" the life and energy and vigour, and all the companionable and\nsociable qualities, contrasted with the power of thinking oneself into\nthe inner spiritual relations that exist between the worlds visible and\ninvisible.\n\n'All this effort is much diminished in our case. There is no very great\npresent loss; at least, it is not so sensibly felt by a great deal as it\nwould be if we missed some one with whom we lived up to the time of his\ndeath. It is much easier to think of them as they are than it could be\nin the case of persons who remember so vividly what they so lately were;\nand this is why, I suppose, the news of Uncle James's death seemed to\naffect me so much less than I should have expected, and it may be\nso again: certain it is that I loved him dearly, and that I miss his\nletters very much indeed; but I think that the point I felt most about\nhim was the sad affliction to his family, and the great loss to my dear\nfather, who had of late seen more than ever of him.'\n\nFrom the home letter I only quote from the reflections so regularly\ninspired by the anniversary of the 28th of November.\n\nAfter lamenting that it was difficult to realise those scenes in his\nmother's illness which he and his brother only knew from narration,\nPatteson adds:--\n\n'The memory of those days would perhaps have been more precious to me\nif I had witnessed more with my own eyes. And yet of course it really\nmattered nothing at all, because the lesson of her life does not depend\non an acquaintance with a few days of it; and what I saw when I was\nthere I never have forgotten, and hope that I never may forget.\n\n'And indeed I feel now with regard to you, my dear Father, that I have\nnot learned to know you better while I was with you than I do now. I\nthink that in some ways I enter more almost into your mind and thought,\nor that I fancy I do so: just as the present possession of anything so\noften prevents our really taking pains to learn all about it. We rest\ncontent with the superficial knowledge of that which is most easily\nperceived and recognised in it....\n\n'I think I know from your letters, and from the fact of my absence from\nyou making me think more about you, as much about you as those present.\nI very much enjoy a letter from Joan, which gives me a kind of tableau\nvivant of you all. That helps me to realize the home life; so do the\nphotographs, they help in the same way. But your letters, and the fact\nthat I think so much about them, and about you, are my real helps.'\n\nThe voyage ended on the 7th of December. It was the last made under the\nguidance of the Bishop of New Zealand, and, alas! the last return of the\nfirst 'Southern Cross.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX. MOTA AND ST. ANDREW'S COLLEGE, KOHIMARAMA. 1859-1862.\n\n\n\nWith the year 1860 a new period, and one far more responsible and\neventful, began. After working for four years under Bishop Selwyn's\nsuperintendence, Coleridge Patteson was gradually passing into a sphere\nof more independent action; and, though his loyal allegiance to his\nPrimate was even more of the heart than of the letter, his time of\ntraining was over; he was left to act more on his own judgment; and\nthings were ripening for his becoming himself a Bishop. He had nearly\ncompleted his thirty-third year, and was in his fullest strength, mental\nand bodily; and, as has been seen, the idea had already through Bishop\nSelwyn's letters become familiar to his family, though he himself had\nshrunk from entertaining it.\n\nThe first great change regarded the locality of the Melanesian school in\nNew Zealand. Repeated experience had shown that St. John's College was\ntoo bleak for creatures used to basking under a vertical sun, and it\nhad been decided to remove to the sheltered landing-place at Kohimarama,\nwhere buildings for the purpose had been commenced so as to be habitable\nin time for the freight of 1859.\n\nIt should be explained, that the current expenses of the Mission had\nbeen defrayed by the Eton and Sydney associations, with chance help\nfrom persons privately interested, together with a grant of \u00a3200, and\nafterwards \u00a3300 per annum from the Society for the Propagation of the\nGospel. The extra expense of this foundation was opportunely met by a\ndiscovery on the part of Sir John Patteson, that his eldest son, living\nupon the Merton Fellowship, had cost him \u00a3200 a year less than his\nyounger son, and therefore that, in his opinion, \u00a3800 was due to\nColeridge. Moreover, the earlier voyages, and, in especial the\ncharacters of Siapo and Umao, had been so suggestive of incidents\nfabricated in the 'Daisy Chain,' that the proceeds of the book were felt\nto be the due of the Mission and at this time these had grown to such an\namount as to make up the sum needful for erecting such buildings as were\nimmediately requisite for the intended College.\n\nThese are described in the ensuing letter, which I give entire, because\nthe form of acknowledgment is the only style suitable to what, however\nlightly acquired, was meant as an offering, even though it cost the\ngiver all too little:\n\n\n'Kohimarama: Dec. 21, 1859.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--I have received at length from my father a distinct\nstatement of what you have given to the Melanesian Mission. I had heard\nrumours before, and the Bishop of Wellington had spoken to me of your\nintentions, but the fact had not been regularly notified to us.\n\n'I think I know you too well to say more than this. May God bless you\nfor what you have lent to Him, and give us, who are specially connected\nwith the Mission, grace to use your gift as you intend it to be used, to\nHis glory in the salvation of souls.\n\n'But you will like to hear how your gift will be appropriated. For three\nsummers the Melanesian scholars lived at St. John's College, which is\nsituated on a low hill, from which the ground falls away on every side,\nleaving it exposed to every wind that blows across and around the narrow\nisthmus.\n\n'Thank God, we had no death traceable to the effect of the climate,\nbut we had constant anxiety and a considerable amount of illness.\nWhen arrangements were completed for the arrival of a new principal to\nsucceed the Bishop of Wellington, the college was no longer likely to be\navailable for the Mission school. Consequently, we determined to build\non the site long ago agreed upon; to put up some substantial buildings,\nand to remove some of the wooden buildings at the College which would\nnot be required there, and set them up again at Kohimarama.\n\n'Just opposite the entrance into the Auckland harbour, between the\nisland of Eangitoto with its double peak and the easternmost point of\nthe northern shore of the harbour, lies a very sheltered bay, with its\nsea-frontage of rather more than a quarter of a mile, bounded to the\neast, south, and west by low hills, which where they meet the sea become\nsandy cliffs, fringed with the red-flower-bearing pohutakawa. The whole\nof this bay, the seventy acres of flat rich soil included within the\nrising ground mentioned, and some seventy acres more as yet lying\nuncleared, adjoining the same block of seventy acres, and likely to be\nvery valuable, as the land is capital--the whole of this was bought by\nthe Bishop many years ago as the property of the Mission, and is the\nonly piece of Church land over which he retains the control, every other\nbequest or gift to the amount of 14,000 acres, having been handed over\nby him to the General Synod. This he retains till the state of the\nMelanesian Mission is more definitely settled.\n\n'On the west corner of this bay we determined to build. A small tide\ncreek runs for a short way about S.S.E. from the extreme end of the\nwestern part of the beach, then turns early eastward, and meets a small\nstream coming down from the southern hill at its western extremity. This\ncreek encloses a space extending along the whole width of the bay of\nabout eighteen or twenty acres.\n\n'At the east end stand three wooden cottages, occupied by the master,\nmate, and a married seaman of the \"Southern Cross.\" At the west end\nstands the Melanesian school. Fences divide the whole space into three\nportions, whereof the western one forms our garden and orchard; and the\nothers pasture for cows and working bullocks; small gardens being also\nfenced off for the three cottages. The fifty acres of flat land south of\nthe creek we are now clearing and ploughing.\n\n'The situation here is admirably adapted for our school. Now that we\nhave a solid wall of the scoria from the volcanic island opposite, we\nhave a complete shelter from the cold south wind. The cliff and hill to\nthe west entirely shut off the wind from that quarter, and the north and\neast winds are always warm. The soil is very dry, and the beach composed\nexclusively of small \"pipi\" shells--small bivalves. So that by putting\nmany cart-loads of these under our wooden floors, and around our\nbuildings, we have so perfect a drainage that after heavy rain the soil\nis quite dry again in a few hours. It causes me no anxiety now, when I\nam for an hour away from my flock, to be thinking whether they are lying\non the ground, forgetting that the hot sun overhead does not destroy the\nbad effect of a damp clay soil such as that at St. John's College.\n\n'The buildings at present form three sides of a quadrangle, but the\nsouth side is only partly filled up. The large schoolroom, eighty feet\nlong, with three sets of transepts, has been removed from the College,\nand put up again so as to form the east side of the quadrangle. This\nis of wood; so is the small wooden quadrangle which serves now for\ndormitories, and a part of which I occupy; my house consisting of\nthree little rooms, together measuring seventeen feet by seven. These\ndormitories are the southern side of the quadrangle, but do not reach\nmore than half-way from the east to the west side, room being left for\nanother set of dormitories of equal size, when we want them and\ncan afford them. The west side consists of a very nice set of stone\nbuildings, including a large kitchen, store room, and room for putting\nthings in daily and immediate use; and the hall, which is the northern\npart of the side of the quadrangle, is a really handsome room, with\nsimple open roof and windows of a familiar collegiate appearance. These\nbuildings are of the dark grey scoria, almost imperishable I suppose,\nand look very well. The hall is just long enough to take seven of us\nat the high table (so to speak), and thirty-four at the long table,\nstretching from the high table to the end of the room.\n\n'At present this is used for school also, as the carpenters who\nare making all our fittings, shelves, &c., are still in the large\nschoolroom. We take off the north end of the schoolroom, including one\nset of transepts for our temporary chapel. This part will be lined, i.e.\nboarded, neatly inside. The rest of the building is very rough, but it\nanswers its purpose.\n\n'In all the stone buildings, the rough stone is left inside just as\nit is outside. It does not look bad at all to my eye, and I doubt if I\nwould have it lined if we had funds to pay for it.\n\n'I hope eventually that stone buildings will take the place of the\npresent wooden schoolroom and dormitories; but this ought to last many\nyears. Here we live most happily and comfortably. The climate almost\ntropical in summer. The beautiful scenery of the harbour before our\neyes, the smooth sea and clean dry beach within a stone's throw of my\nwindow. The lads and young men have their fishing, bathing, boating,\nand basking in the sun, which all day from sunrise to sunset beats right\nupon us; for the west cliff does not project more than a few yards to\nthe north of us, and the eastern boundary is low and some way off. I see\nthe little schooner at her moorings whenever I look off my book or my\npaper, and with an opera-glass can see the captain caulking the\ndecks. All is under my eye; and the lads daily say, \"College too cold;\nKohimarama very good; all the same Bauro, Mota,\" as the speaker belongs\nto one or other of our fourteen islands represented.... The moment we\nheard of your gift, we said simultaneously, \"Let it be given to this or\nto some specific and definite object.\" I think you will like to feel\nnot only that the money came most opportunely, but that within the walls\nbuilt with that money, many many hundreds, I trust, of these Melanesian\nislanders will be fed and taught, and trained up in the knowledge and\nfear of God....\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nBefore the old year was out came the tidings of the death of good Miss\nNeill, the governess whom Patteson had so faithfully loved from early\nchildhood, and whose years of suffering he had done his best to cheer.\n'At rest at last.' In the same letter, in answer to some complaint from\nhis sister of want of detail in the reports, he says: 'Am I trying to\nmake my life commonplace? Well, really so it is more or less to me.\nThings go on in a kind of routine. Two voyages a year, five months in\nNew Zealand, though certainly two-thirds of my flock fresh every year. I\nsuppose it still sounds strange to you sometimes, and to others always,\nbut they should try to think for themselves about our circumstances.\n\n'And you know, Fan, I can't write for the world at large anecdotes of\nmissionary life, and swell the number of the \"Gems\" and other trashy\nbooks. If people who care to know, would think of what their own\nintuition tells them of human nature, and history tells them of\nheathenism, they can make out some notion of real missionary work.\n\n'The school is the real work. Teaching adults to read a strange tongue\nis hard work; I have little doubt but that the Bishop is right in saying\nthey must be taught English; but it is so very difficult a language, not\nspelt a bit as pronounced; and their language is all vocalic and so easy\nto put into writing.\n\n'But if you like I will scatter anecdotes about--of how the Bishop and\nhis chaplain took headers hand in hand off the schooner and roundhouse;\nand how the Bishop got knocked over at Leper's Island by a big wave;\nand how I borrowed a canoe at Tariko and paddled out yams as fast as the\nBishop brought them to our boat, &c.--but this is rubbish.'\n\nThis letter is an instance of the reserve and reticence which Mr.\nPatteson felt so strongly with regard to his adventures and pupils.\nHe could not endure stories of them to become, as it were, stock for\nexciting interest at home. There was something in his nature that shrank\nfrom publishing accounts of individual pupils as a breach of confidence,\nas much, or perhaps even more, than if they had been English people,\nlikely to know what had been done. Moreover, instances had come to his\nknowledge in which harm had been done to both teachers and taught by\ntheir becoming aware that they were shown off to the public in print.\nSuch things had happened even where they would have seemed not only\nunlikely, but impossible; and this rendered him particularly cautious\nin writing of his work, so that his reports were often dry, while he\ninsisted strongly on his letters to his family being kept private.\n\nThe actual undertakings of the Mission did not exceed its resources, so\nthat there was no need for those urgent appeals which call for sensation\nand incident to back them; and thus there sometimes seemed to the\nexterior world to be a lack of information about the Mission.\n\nThe letters of January 1860 show how the lads were fortified\nagainst weather: 'They wear a long flannel waistcoat, then a kind of\njersey-shaped thing, with short trousers, reaching a little below the\nknee, for they dabble about like ducks here, the sea being not a hundred\nyards from the building. All the washing, of course, and most of the\nclothes-making they can do themselves; I can cut out after a fashion,\nand they take quickly to needle and thread; but now the Auckland ladies\nhave provided divers very nice garments, their Sunday dresses are very\nnice indeed.'\n\nThe question of the Bishopric began to come forward. On the 18th of\nJanuary a letter to Sir John Patteson, after speaking of a playful\nallusion which introduced the subject, details how Mrs. Selwyn had\ndisclosed that a letter had actually been despatched to the Duke of\nNewcastle, then Colonial Secretary, asking permission to appoint and\nconsecrate John Coleridge Patteson as Missionary Bishop of the Western\nPacific Isles.\n\nJ.C.P.--'Well, then, I must say what I feel about it. I have known for\nsome time that this was not unlikely to come some day; but I never spoke\nseriously to you or to the Martins when you insinuated these things,\nbecause I thought if I took it up gravely it would come to be considered\na settled thing.'\n\nMrs. S.--'Well, so it has been, and is----'\n\nJ.C.P.--'But has the Bishop seriously thought of this, that he has had\nno trial of any other man; that I could give any other man who may\ncome, perhaps, the full benefit of my knowledge of languages, and of my\nacquaintance with the islands and the people, while we may reasonably\nexpect some one to come out before long far better fitted to organise\nand lead men than I am? Has he fairly looked at all the per contra?\n\nMrs. S.--'I feel sure he has.'\n\nJ.C. P.--'I don't deny that my father tells me I must not shrink from\nit; that some things seem to point to it as natural; that I must not\nventure to think that I can be as complete a judge as the Bishop of what\nis good for Melanesia--but what necessity for acting now?'\n\nHere came an interruption, but the conversation was renewed later in\nthe day with the Bishop himself, when Patteson pleaded for delay on\nthe score that the isles were as yet in a state in which a missionary\nchaplain could do all that was requisite, and that the real management\nought not to be withdrawn from the Bishop; to which the reply was\nthat at the present time the Bishop could do much to secure such\nan appointment as he wished; but, in case of his death, even wishes\nexpressed in writing might be disregarded. After this, the outpouring to\nthe father continues:--\n\n'I don't mean to shrink from this. You tell me that I ought not to do\nso, and I quite believe it. I know that no one can judge better than you\ncan as to the general question, and the Bishop is as competent to decide\non the special requirements of the case.\n\n'But, my dear father, you can hardly tell how difficult I find it to\nbe, amidst all the multiplicity of works, a man of devotional prayerful\nhabits; how I find from time to time that I wake up to the fact that\nwhile I am doing more than I did in old times, yet that I pray less. How\noften I think that \"God gives\" habitually to the Bishop \"all that sail\nwith him;\" that the work is prospering in his hands; but will it prosper\nin mine? I know He can use any instrument to His glory: I know that,\nand that He will not let my sins and shortcomings hinder His projects of\nlove and blessing to these Melanesian islanders; but as far as purity\nof motive, and a spirit of prayer and self-denial do go for anything in\nmaking up the qualification on the human side for such an office--in so\nfar, do they exist in me? You will say I am over sensitive and expect\ntoo much. That, I think, very likely may be true. It is useless to wait\ntill one becomes really fit, for that of course I never shall be.\nBut while I believe most entirely that grace does now supply all our\ndeficiencies when we seek it fully, I do feel frightened when I see that\nI do not become more prayerful, more real in communion with God. This\nis what I must pray for earnestly: to become more prayerful, more\nconstantly impressed with the necessity of seeking for everything from\nHim.\n\n'You all think that absence from relations, living upon yams, want of\nthe same kind of meat and drink that I had at home, that these things\nare proofs of sincerity, &c. I believe that they all mean just nothing\nwhen the practical result does not come to this--that a man is walking\nmore closely with his God. I dare not say that I can feel humbly and\nreverently that my inner life is progressing. I don't think that I am\nas earnest in prayer as I was. Whether it be the effect of the amount\nof work distracting me; or, sometimes, of physical weariness, or of the\nself-indulgence (laugh as you may) which results from my never being\ncontradicted or interfered with, or much worried, still I do feel this;\nand may He strengthen me to pray more for a spirit of prayer.\n\n'I don't know that the actual time for my being consecrated, if I live,\nis nearer by reason of this letter: I think it most probable that it may\ntake place when the General Synod meets, and, consequently, five bishops\nwill be present, in 1862, at Nelson. But I suppose it is more fixed than\nit has been hitherto, and if the Bishop writes to you, as he may do,\neven more plainly than he speaks to me, you will know what especially to\nask for me from God, and all you dear ones will recollect daily how I do\ninwardly tremble at the thoughts of what is to come. Do you remember how\nstrangely I was upset before leaving home for my ordination as a deacon;\nand now it is coming to this--a church to be planted, organised, edified\namong the wild heathen inhabitants of Melanesia; and what hope can there\nbe for me if there is to be no growth of a fervent, thankful, humble\nspirit of prayer and love and adoration? Not that, as I feel to my great\ncomfort, God's work is dependent upon the individual growth in grace\neven of those who are entrusted with any given work; but it is in some\nway connected with it.\n\n'And yet, the upshot of it all is that I shall do (D.V.) what the Bishop\ntells me is right. I hope he won't press on the matter, but I am content\nnow to leave it with him, knowing what you have said, and being so\nthankful to leave it with you and him.'\n\nThere is a letter to his sister Fanny of the same date, beginning\nmerrily about the family expostulation on receiving a box of reports\nwhere curiosities had been expected:--\n\n'Fancy not thinking your worthy brother's important publications the\nmost satisfactory treasures that any box could contain! The author's\nfeelings are seriously injured! What are Melanesian shells to Melanesian\nstatistics, and Lifu spears to a dissertation on the treatment of Lifu\ndiseases? Great is the ingratitude of the houses of Feniton and Dawlish!\n\n'Well, it must have been rather a \"sell,\" as at Eton it is called, to\nhave seen the long-desired and highly-paid-for box disgorge nought but\nMelanesian reports! all thanks to Mrs. Martin, who packed it after I was\noff to the Islands.\n\n'I cannot send you anything yet, but I will bear in mind the fact that\nreports by themselves are not considered satisfactory. Does anybody read\nthem, after all? for they really cost me some days' trouble, which I\ncan't find time for again. This year's report (for I suppose there must\nbe one) is not begun, and I don't know what to put in it. I have but\nlittle news beyond what I have written once for all to Father.\n\n'The decisive letter from the Bishop of New Zealand to the Duke of\nNewcastle is in the Governor's hands, and all discussion of the question\nis at an end. May God bring out of it all that may conduce to His glory;\nbut how I dread what is to come, you, who remember my leaving home first\nfor my deacon's ordination, can well imagine.\n\n'It is true I have seen this coming for a year or two, and have seen\nno way of preventing its coming upon me--no one else has come out; the\nBishop feels he cannot work his present diocese and Melanesia: he is\nsatisfied that he ought to take New Zealand rather than the islands;\nthat the time is come for settling the matter while he is able to settle\nit; and I had nothing to say, for all personal objections he overruled.\nSo then, if I live, it is settled; and that, at all events, is a\ncomfort.... Many of my Melanesians have heavy coughs--some twelve, but I\ndon't think any of them seriously ill, only needing to be watched. I\nam very well, only I want some more exercise (which, by the bye, it is\nalways in my power to take), and am quite as much disposed as ever to\nwish for a good game at tennis or fives to take it out of me.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe birthday letter of February 11 is a happy one, though chiefly taken\nup with the business matters respecting the money required for the\nMission, of which Sir John was one trustee. Life was pleasant then, for\nPatteson says:--\n\n'I do feel sometimes that the living alone has its temptations, and\nthose great ones; I mean that I can arrange everything--my work, my\nhours, my whole life--after my own pleasure a great deal more than\nprobably is good for me; and it is very easy to become, in a manner,\nvery self-indulgent. I think that most likely, as our work (D.V.)\nprogresses, one or two men may be living with me, and that will supply a\ncheck upon me of some kind. At present I am too much without it. Here\nI am in my cosy little room, after my delicious breakfast of perfect\ncoffee, made in Jem's contrivance, hot milk and plenty of it, dry\ntoast and potato. Missionary hardships! On the grass between me and the\nbeach--a distance of some seventy yards--lie the boys' canvas beds and\nblankets and rugs, having a good airing. The schooner lies at anchor\nbeyond; and, three or four miles beyond the schooner, lies Eangitoto,\nthe great natural breakwater to the harbour. With my Dollond's\nopera-glass that you gave me, I can see the master and mate at their\nwork refitting. Everything is under my eye. Our long boat and whale boat\n(so-called from their shapes) lie on the beach, covered with old sails\nto protect them from the sun. The lads are washing clothes, or\nscrubbing their rooms, and all the rooms--kitchen, hall, store-room,\nand school-room. There is a good south-western breeze stirring--our cold\nwind; but it is shut off here, and scarcely reaches us, and the sun has\ngreat power.\n\n'I have the jolliest little fellows this time--about seven of\nthem--fellows scarcely too big to take on my knee, and talk to about\nGod, and Heaven, and Jesus Christ; and I feel almost as if I had a kind\nof instinct of love towards them, as they look up wonderingly with their\ndeep deep eyes, and smooth and glossy skins, and warm soft cheeks, and\nask their simple questions. I wish you could have seen the twenty Banks\nIslanders as I told them that most excellent of all tales--the story\nof Joseph. How their eyes glistened! and they pushed out their heads to\nhear the sequel of his making himself known to his brethren, and asking\nonce more about \"the old man of whom ye spake, is he yet alive?\"\n\n'I can never read it with a steady voice, nor tell it either.'\n\nSir John had thus replied to the tirade against English conventional\nluxury:--\n\n'The conventional notions in this old country are not always suited to\nyour country, and I quite agree that even here they are carried too far.\nYet there are other people than the needy whose souls are entrusted to\nthe clergy here, and in order to fulfil that trust they must mix on some\ndegree of equality with the gentry, and with the middle classes who are\nwell-to-do. Then again, consider both as to clergy and laity here. If\nthey were all to lower themselves a peg or two, and give up many not\nonly luxuries, but comforts, numbers of tradesmen, and others working\nunder them, aye, even merchants, manufacturers, and commercial men of\nall sorts, would be to some extent thrown out of employ. The artificial\nand even luxurious state of society here does really prevent many\npersons from falling into the class of the needy. All this should\nbe regulated in its due proportion. Every man ought so to limit his\nexpenses as to have a good margin for charitable purposes of all sorts,\nbut I cannot think that he is doing good by living himself like a pauper\nin order to assist paupers. If all men did so, labour of all kinds would\nbe overstocked with hands, and more paupers created. True it is, that\nwe all are too apt as means increase, some to set our hearts upon them,\nwhich is wickedness; some to indulge in over much luxury, which is\nwicked also; there should be moderation in all things. I believe that\nmore money is given in private charities of various kinds in helping\nthose who are struggling with small means, and yet not apparently in\nthe class of the needy, than the world is aware of; and those who do the\nmost are precisely those who are never heard of. But do not mistake me.\nI am no advocate for luxury and idle expenditure. Yet I think you carry\nyour argument a little farther than is just. The impositions that are\npractised, or attempted to be practised, upon charitable people are\nbeyond all conception.' The following is the answer:--\n\n\n'April 23, 1860.\n\n'My dearest Father,--Thank you for writing your views about luxuries,\nextravagant expenditure, and the like. I see at once the truth of what\nyou say.\n\n'What I really mean is something of this kind. A high degree of\ncivilisation seems to generate (perhaps necessarily) a state of society\nwherein the natural desires of people to gratify their inclinations\nin all directions, conjoined with the power of paying highly for the\ngratification of such inclinations, tends to call forth the ingenuity of\nthe working class in meeting such inclinations in all agreeable ways. So\nsprings up a complicated mechanism, by which a habit of life altogether\nunnecessary for health and security of life and property is introduced\nand becomes naturalised among a people.\n\nIf this is the necessary consequence of the distinction between rich and\npoor, and the course of civilisation must result in luxury and poverty\namong the two classes respectively (and this seems to be so), it is,\nof course, still more evident that the state of society being once\nestablished gradually, through a long course of years, no change can\nsubsequently be introduced excepting in one way. It is still in the\npower of individuals to act upon the community by their example--e.g.,\nthe early Christians, though only for a short time, showed the result\nof the practical acceptance of the Lord's teaching in its effect upon\nsociety. Rich and poor, comparatively speaking, met each other half way.\nThe rich man sold his possessions, and equal distribution was made to\nthe poor.\n\n'All that I contend for is that, seeing the fearful deterioration, and\nno less fearful extravagance, of a civilised country, the evil is one\nwhich calls loudly for careful investigation. Thousands of artisans\nand labourers who contribute nothing to the substantial wealth of the\ncountry, and nothing towards the production of its means of subsistence,\nwould be thrown out of employment, and therefore that plan would be\nwrong. Jewellers, &c., &c., all kinds of fellows who simply manufacture\nvanities, are just as honest and good men as others, and it is not their\nfault, but the fault (if it be one at all) of civilisation that\nthey exist. But I don't see why, the evil being recognised, some\ncomprehensive scheme of colonisation might not be adopted by the rulers\nof a Christian land, to empty our poor-houses, and draft off the surplus\npopulation, giving to the utterly destitute the prospect of health,\nand renewed hopes of success in another thinly-inhabited country, and\nsecuring for those who remain behind a more liberal remuneration for\ntheir work by the comparative absence of competition.\n\n'I hardly know what to write to you, my dear Father, about this new\nsymptom of illness. I suppose, from what you say, that at your time\nof life the disease being so mild in its form now, will hardly prove\ndangerous to you, especially as you submit at once to a strictness of\ndiet which must be pretty hard to follow out--just the habit of a whole\nlife to be given up; and I know that to forego anything that I like, in\nmatters of eating and drinking, wants an effort that I feel ashamed of\nbeing obliged to make. I don't, therefore, make myself unnecessarily\nanxious, though I can't help feeling that such a discipline must be\nhard. You say that in other respects you are much the same; but that\nmeans that you are in almost constant pain, and that you cannot obtain\nentire relief from it, except in bed.\n\n'Still, my dear Father, as you do bear it all, how can we wish that God\nshould spare you one trial or infirmity, which, we know, are, in His\nprovidence, making you daily riper and riper for Heaven? I ought not\nto write to you like this, but somehow the idea of our ever meeting\nanywhere else has so entirely passed from my mind, that I try to view\nthings with reference to His ultimate purpose and work.\n\n'Your loving and dutiful Son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe most present trouble of this summer was the sickness of Simeona. The\naccount of him on Ash Wednesday is: 'He is dying of consumption slowly,\nand may go back with us two months hence, but I doubt it. Poor fellow,\nhe makes the worst of his case, and is often discontented and thinks\nhimself aggrieved because we cannot derange the whole plan of the school\neconomy for him. I have everything which is good for him, every little\ndainty, and everyone is most kind; but when it comes to a complaint\nbecause one pupil-teacher is not set apart to sit with him all day, and\nanother to catch him fish, of course I tell him that it would be wrong\nto grant what is so unreasonable. Some one or other of the most stupid\nof the boys catches his fish just as well as a pupil-teacher, and he is\nquite able to sit up and read for two or three hours a day, and would\nonly be injured by having another lad in the room on purpose to be the\nreceptacle of all his moans and complaints, yet I know, poor fellow! it\nis much owing to the disease upon him.'\n\nIn spite of his fretfulness and exactions, the young man, meeting not\nwith spoiling, but with true kindness, responded to the touch. Lady\nMartin tells us: 'I shall never forget dear Mr. Patteson's thankfulness\nwhen, after a long season of reserve, he opened his heart to him, and\ntold him how, step by step, this sinfulness of sin had been brought home\nto him. He knew he had done wrong in his heathen boyhood, but had put\naway such deeds when he was baptized, and had almost forgotten the past,\nor looked on it as part of heathenism. But in his illness, tended daily\nand hourly by our dear friend, his conscience had become very tender. He\ndied in great peace.'\n\nHis death is mentioned in the following letter to Sir John Coleridge:--\n\n\n'March 26, 1860. '(This day 5 years I left home. It was a Black Monday\nindeed.)\n\n'My dear Uncle,--At three this morning died one of my old scholars,\nby name George Selwyn Simeona, from Nengone. He was here for his third\ntime; for two years a regular communicant, having received a good deal\nof teaching before I knew him. He was baptized three years ago. I did\nnot wish to bring him this time, for it was evident that he could not\nlive long when we met last at Nengone, and I told him that he had better\nnot come with us; but he said, \"Heaven was no farther from New Zealand\nthan from Nengone;\" and when we had pulled some little way from shore,\nhe ran down the beach, and made us return to take him in. Gradual\ndecline and chronic bronchitis wore him to a skeleton. On Thursday the\nBishop and I administered the Holy Eucharist to him; and he died at 3\nA.M. to-day, with his hand in mine, as I was in the act of commending\nhis soul to God. His wife, a sweet good girl, one of Mrs. Selwyn's\npupils from Nengone in old times, died last year. They leave one boy of\nthree years, whom I hope to get hold of entirely, and as it were adopt\nhim.\n\n'The clear bright moon was right over my head as after a while, and\nafter prayer with his friends, I left his room; the quiet splash of\nthe tiny waves on our sheltered shore, and the little schooner at\nher anchorage: and I thanked God that one more spirit from among the\nMelanesian islanders was gone to dwell, we trust, with JESUS CHRIST in\nParadise.\n\n'He will not be much missed in the Melanesian school work, for, for\nmonths, he could not make one of us....\n\n'I find Trench's Notes on the Authorised Version of the New Testament\nvery useful, chiefly as helping one to acquire a habit of accurate\ncriticism for oneself, and when we come (D.V.) to translate any portion\nof the Scriptures, of course such books are very valuable.'\n\n'Last mail brought me but a very few letters. The account of my dear\nFather's being obliged to submit to discipline did not alarm me, though\nI know the nature of the disease, and that his father died of it. It\nseems in his case likely to be kept under, but (as I have said before) I\ncannot feel uneasy and anxious about him, be the accounts what they may.\nIt is partly selfish, for I am spared the sight of his suffering, but\nthen I do long for a look at his dear face and for the sound of his\nvoice. Five years of absence has of course made so much change in my\nmind in this respect, that I do not now find myself dreaming of home,\nconstantly thinking of it; the first freshness of my loss is not felt\nnow. But I think I love them all and you all better than ever; and I\ntrust that I am looking inward on the whole to the blessedness of our\nmeeting hereafter.\n\n'But this work has its peculiar dangers. A man may become so\nfamiliarised with the habits of the heathen that insensibly his\nconscience becomes less sensitive.\n\n'There is a danger in living in the midst of utter lawlessness and\nviolence; and though the blessings and privileges far excel the\ndisadvantages, yet it is not in every way calculated to help one\nforward, as I think I have in some ways found by experience.\n\n'Well, this is all dull and dry. But our life is somewhat monotonous on\nshore, varied only by the details of incidents occurring in school,\nand witnessing to the growth of the minds of my flock. They are a very\nintelligent set this year, and there are many hopeful ones among them.\nWe have worked them hard at English, and all can read a little; and some\neight or ten really read nicely, but then they do not understand nearly\nall they read without an explanation, just like an English boy\nbeginning his knowledge of letters with Latin (or French, a still spoken\nlanguage).\n\n'In about a month we shall (D.V.) start to take them back; but the\nvessel will be absent but a short time, as I shall keep the Solomon\nIslanders with me in the Banks Archipelago for the winter, and so avoid\nthe necessity of the schooner running 200 or 300 miles to leeward and\nhaving to make it up again. I have slept ashore twice in the Banks\nIslands, but no other white man has done so, and that makes our course\nvery clear, as they have none of the injuries usually committed by\ntraders, &c., to revenge.\n\n'Good-bye once more, my dearest Uncle,\n\n'Your affectionate and grateful Nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe calmness of mind respecting his father which is here spoken of was\nnot perpetual, and his grief broke out at times in talks with his young\nfriend and companion, Mr. Dudley, as appears by this extract:--\n\n'I remember his talking to me more than once on the subject of his\nfather, and especially his remarking on one occasion that his friends\nwere pressing him to come out there oftener, and suggesting, when\nhe seemed out of health and spirits, that he was not taking care of\nhimself; but that it was the anguish he endured, as night after night he\nlay awake thinking of his father gradually sinking and craving for him,\nand cheerfully resigning him, that really told upon him. I know that I\nobtained then a glimpse of an affection and a depth of sorrow such as\nperfectly awed me, and I do not think I have witnessed anything like it\nat all, either before or since. It was then that he seemed to enter into\nthe full meaning of those words of our Lord, in St. Mark x. 29-30, i.e.,\ninto all that the \"leaving\" there spoken of involved.'\n\nYet in spite of this anxiety there was no flinching from the three\nmonths' residence at Mota, entirely out of reach of letters. A frame\nhouse, with planks for the floor, was prepared at Auckland to be taken\nout, and a stock of wine, provisions, and medicines laid in. The Rev.\nB. Y. Ashwell, a New Zealand clergyman, joined the Mission party as a\nguest, with two Maori youths, one the son of a deacon; and, besides Mr.\nDudley, another pupil, Mr. Thomas Kerr, was beginning his training for\nservice in the Mission. Sailing on one of the last days of April, there\nwas a long passage to Nengone, where the party went ashore, and found\neverything in trouble, the French constantly expected, and the chiefs\nentreating for a missionary from the Bishop, and no possibility of\nsupplying them. Lifu was rendered inaccessible by foul winds.\n\n'Much to my sorrow,' writes Mr. Patteson, 'I could not land my two\npupil-teachers, who, of course, wished to see their friends, and who\nmade me more desirous to give them a run on shore, by saying at once:\n\"Don't think of us, it is not safe to go.\" But I thought of what my\nfeelings would be if it were the Devonshire coast, somewhere about\nSidmouth, and no landing!' However, they, as well as the three\nNengonese, Wadrokala, Harper Malo, and Martin Tahia, went on\ncontentedly.\n\n'Off Mai, May 19th.--Mr. Kerr has been busy taking bearings, &c., for\nthe purpose of improving our MS. chart, and constructing a new one.\nCommodore Loring wanted me to tell him all about Port Patteson, and\nasked me if I wished a man-of-war to be sent down this winter to see me,\nsupposing the New Zealand troubles to be all over. I gave him all the\ninformation he wanted, told him that I did not want a vessel to come\nwith the idea of any protection being required, but that a man-of-war\ncoming with the intention of supporting the Mission, and giving help,\nand not coming to treat the natives in an off-hand manner, might do\ngood. I did not speak coldly; but really I fear what mischief even a\nfew wildish fellows might do on shore among such people as those of the\nBanks Islands!\n\n'A fore-and-aft schooner in sight! Probably some trader. May be a\nschooner which I heard the French had brought for missionary purposes.\nWhat if we find a priest or two at Port Patteson! However, my course is\nclear any way: work straight on.\n\n'May 21st.--Schooner a false alarm. We had a very interesting visit on\nSaturday afternoon at Mai. We could not land till 4 P.M.; walked at once\nto the village, a mile and a half inland. After some excitement caused\nby our appearance, the people rushing to welcome us, we got them to be\nquiet, and to sit down. I stood up, and gave them a sermonette, then\nmade Dudley, who speaks good Mai, say something. Then we knelt down, and\nI said the second Good Friday Collect, inserted a few petitions which\nyou can imagine anyone would do at such a time, then a simple prayer in\ntheir language, the Lord's Prayer in English, and the Grace.'\n\nOn Friday Mota was reached, and the people showed great delight when\nthe frame of the house was landed at the site purchased for a number\nof hatchets and other goods, so that it is the absolute property of\nthe Mission. Saturday was spent in a visit to Port Patteson, where the\npeople thronged, while the water-casks were being filled, and bamboos\ncut down, with entreaties that the station might be there; and the\nmosquitoes thronged too--Mr. Patteson had fifty-eight bites on one foot.\n\nOn Whit Sunday, after Holy Communion on board, the party went on shore,\nand prayed for, 'I cannot say with the people of Vanua Lava.'\n\nAnd on Whit Monday the house was set up 'in a most lovely spot,' says\nMr. Dudley, 'beneath the shade of a gigantic banyan tree, the trunk and\none long horizontal branch of which formed two sides of as beautiful\na picture as you would wish to look upon; the sloping bank, with\nits cocoa-nut, bread-fruit, and other trees, forming the base of the\npicture; and the coral beach, the deep, clear, blue tropical ocean, with\nothers of the Banks Islands, Valua, Matlavo, and Uvaparapara, in the\ndistance, forming the picture itself.'\n\nAt least a hundred natives came to help, pulling down materials from\ntheir own houses to make the roof, and delighted to obtain a bit of\niron, or still better of broken glass, to shave with. In the afternoon,\nthe master of the said house, using a box for a desk, wrote: 'Our little\nhouse will, I think, be finished to-night; anyhow we can sleep in it,\nif the walls are but half ready; they are merely bamboo canes tied\ntogether. We sleep on the floor boarded and well raised on poles, two\nfeet and more from the ground--beds are superfluous here.'\n\nHere then was the first stake of the Church's tabernacle planted in all\nMelanesia!\n\nThe boards of the floor had been brought from New Zealand, the heavy\nposts on which the plates were laid were cut in Vanua Lava, and the\nthatch was of cocoa-nut leaves, the leaflets ingeniously bound together,\nnative fashion, and quite waterproof; but a mat or piece of canvas had\nto be nailed within the bamboo walls to keep out the rain.\n\nOn Wednesday a short service was held, the first ever known in Mota;\nand then Mr. Ashwell and Mr. Kerr embarked, leaving Mr. Patteson and Mr.\nDudley with their twelve pupils in possession. Mr. Dudley had skill to\nturn their resources to advantage. Space was gained below by making a\nframe, to which knapsacks, bags, &c., could be hung up, and the floor\nwas only occupied by the four boxes, which did the further part of\ntables, desks, and chairs in turn. As to beds, was not the whole floor\nbefore them? and, observes the Journal: 'Now I see the advantage of\nhaving brought planks from New Zealand to make a floor. We all had\nsomething level to lie on at night, and when you are tired enough, a\ngood smooth plank or a box does just as well as a mattress.'\n\nFresh water was half a mile off, and had to be fetched in bamboos; but\nthis was a great improvement upon Lifu, where there was none at all; and\na store of it was always kept in four twenty-gallon casks, three on the\nbeach, and one close to the house.\n\nThe place was regularly purchased:--\n\n'June 8th.--I have just bought for the Mission this small clearing of\nhalf an acre, and the two acres (say) leading to the sea, with twenty or\nmore bread-fruits on it. There was a long talk with the people, and some\ndifficulty in finding out the real proprietors, but I think we arranged\nmatters really well at last. You would have been amused at the solemnity\nwith which I conducted the proceeding: making a great show of writing\ndown their names, and bringing each one of the owners up in their turn\nto see his name put down, and making him touch my pen as I put a cross\nagainst his name. Having spent about an hour in enquiring whether any\nother person had any claim on the land or trees, I then said, \"Now this\nall belongs to me,\" and they assented. I entered it in my books--\"On\nbehalf of the Melanesian Mission,\" but they could only understand that\nthe land belonged to the Bishop and me, because we wanted a place where\nsome people might live, who should be placed by the Bishop to teach\nthem. Of course the proceeding has no real validity, but I think they\nwill observe the contract: not quite the same thing as the transfer of\nland in the old country! Here about 120 men, quite naked, represented\nthe interests of the late owners, and Dudley and I represented the\nMission.'\n\nThe days were thus laid out--Morning school in the village, first with\nthe regular scholars, then with any one who liked to come in; and then,\nwhen the weather permitted, a visit to some village, sometimes walking\nall round, a circuit of ten miles, but generally each of the two taking\na separate village, talking to the people, teaching them from cards, and\nencouraging interrogatories. Mr. Patteson always had such an attraction\nfor them that they would throng round him eagerly wherever he went.\n\nThe Mota people had a certain faith of their own; they believed in\na supreme god called Ikpat, who had many brothers, one of whom was\nsomething like Loki, in the Northern mythology, always tricking him.\nIkpat had disappeared in a ship, taking the best of everything with him.\nIt was also believed that the spirits of the dead survived and ranged\nabout at night, maddening all who chanced to meet them; and, like many\nother darkly coloured people, the Motans had begun by supposing their\nwhite visitors to be the ghosts of their deceased friends come to\nrevisit them.\n\nThere were a good many other superstitions besides; and a ceremony\nconnected with one of them was going on the second week of the residence\nat Mota--apparently a sort of freemasonry, into which all boys of a\ncertain age were to be initiated.\n\nThe Journal says:--\n\n'There is some strange superstitious ceremony going on at this village.\nA space had been enclosed by a high hedge, and some eighteen or nineteen\nyouths are spending a month or more inside the fence, in a house where\nthey lie wrapped up in mats, abundantly supplied with food by the\npeople, who, from time to time, assemble to sing or perform divers\nrites. I had a good deal of trouble with the father of our second year's\npupil Tagalana, who insisted upon sending his son thither. I warned\nhim against the consequences of hindering his son, who wished to follow\nChrist. He yielded, because he was evidently afraid of me, but not\nconvinced, as I have no right to expect he should be.\n\n'The next morning comes an old fellow, and plants a red-flowering branch\nin our small clearing, whereupon our Mota boys go away, not wishing to\ngo, but not daring to stay. No people came near us, but by-and-by comes\nthe man who had planted it, with whom I had much talk, which ended in\nhis pulling up and throwing away the branch, and in the return of our\nboys.\n\n'In the evening many people came, to whom I spoke very plainly about the\nnecessity of abandoning these customs if they were in earnest in saying\nthey wished to embrace the Word of God. On Sunday they gave up their\nsinging at the enclosure, or only attempted it in a very small way.\n\n'June 6th.--I am just returned from a village a mile and a half off,\ncalled Tasmate, where one of their religious ceremonies took place this\nmorning. The village contains upwards of twenty houses, built at\nthe edge of the bush, which consists here almost exclusively of\nfruit-bearing trees--cocoa-nut trees, bananas, bread-fruit, and large\nalmond trefts are everywhere the most conspicuous. The sea view looking\nsouth is very beautiful.\n\n'I walked thither alone, having heard that a feast was to be held there.\nAs I came close to the spot, I heard the hum of many voices, and the\ndull, booming sound of the native drum, which is nothing but a large\nhollow tree, of circular shape, struck by wooden mallets. Some few\npeople ran off as I appeared, but many of them had seen me before. The\nwomen, about thirty in number, were sitting on the ground together, in\nfront of one of the houses, which enclosed an open air circular space;\nin front of another house were many children and young people. In the\nlong narrow house which forms the general cooking and lounging room of\nthe men of each village, and the sleeping room of the bachelors, were\nmany people preparing large messes of grated yam and cocoa-nut in flat\nwooden dishes. At the long oblong-shaped drum sat the performers, two\nyoung men, each with two short sticks to perform the kettledrum part\nof the business, and an older man in the centre, whose art consisted in\nbringing out deep, hollow tones from his wooden instrument. Around them\nstood some thirty men, two of whom I noticed especially, decked out with\nred leaves, and feathers in their hair. Near this party, and close to\nthe long, narrow house in the end of which I stood, was a newly raised\nplatform of earth, supported on stones. On the corner stone were laid\nsix or eight pigs' jaws, with the large curling tusks left in them. This\nwas a sacred stone. In front of the platform were three poles, covered\nwith flowers, red leaves, &c.\n\n'For about an hour and a half the men at or around the drum kept up an\nalmost incessant shouting, screaming and whistling, moving their legs\nand arms in time, not with any wild gesticulations, but occasionally\nwith some little violence, the drum all the time being struck\nincessantly. About the middle of the ceremony, an old, tall, thin man,\nwith a red handkerchief, our gift at some time, round his waist, began\nambling round the space in the middle of the houses, carrying a boar's\nskull in his hand. This performance he repeated three times. Then a\nman jumped up upon the platform, and, moving quickly about on it and\ngesticulating wildly, delivered a short speech, after which the drum was\nbeat louder than ever; then came another speech from the same man; and\nthen the rain evidently hastening matters to a conclusion to the\nwhole thing, without any ceremony of consecrating the stone, as I had\nexpected.\n\n'In the long room afterwards I had the opportunity of saying quietly\nwhat I had said to those about me during the ceremony: the same story of\nthe love of God, especially manifested in JESUS CHRIST, to turn men from\ndarkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. With what\npower that verse speaks to one while witnessing such an exhibition of\nignorance, or fear, or superstition as I have seen to-day! And through\nit all I was constantly thinking upon the earnestness with which these\npoor souls follow out a mistaken notion of religion. Such rain as fell\nthis morning would have kept a whole English congregation from going to\nchurch, but they never sought shelter nor desisted from their work\nin hand; and the physical effect was really great, the perspiration\nstreamed down their bodies, and the learning by heart all the songs\nand the complicated parts of the ceremony implied a good deal of pains.\nChristians do not always take so much pains to fulfil scrupulously their\nduties as sometimes these heathens do. And, indeed, their bondage is\na hard one, constant suspicion and fear whenever they think at all.\nEverything that is not connected with the animal part of our nature\nseems to be the prey of dark and gloomy superstitions; the spiritual\npart is altogether inactive as an instrument of comfort, joy, peace\nand hope. You can imagine that I prayed earnestly for these poor souls,\nactually performing before me their strange mysteries, and that I spoke\nearnestly and strongly afterwards.\n\n'The argument with those who would listen was: What good comes of all\nthis? What has the spirit you call Ikpat ever done for you? Has he\ntaught you to clothe yourselves, build houses, &c.? Does he offer to\nmake you happy? Can you tell me what single good thing has come from\nthese customs? But if you ask me what good thing has come to us from the\nWord of God, first you had better let me tell you what has happened in\nEngland of old, in New Zealand, Nengone, or Lifu, then I will tell you\nwhat the Word of God teaches;--and these with the great outline of the\nFaith.'\n\nEvery village in the island had the platforms, poles, and flowers; and\nthe next day, at a turn in the path near a village, the Mission party\nsuddenly came upon four sticks planted in a row, two of them bearing\nthings like one-eyed masks; two others, like mitres, painted red, black,\nand white. As far as could be made out, they were placed there as a\nsort of defiance to the inhabitants; but Mr. Patteson took down one,\nand declared his intention of buying them for fish-hooks, to take to New\nZealand, that the people might see their dark and foolish customs!\n\nSome effect had already been produced, the people declared that there\nhad been much less of fighting since the missionaries had spoken to them\neighteen months back, and they had given up some of the charms by which\nthey used to destroy each other; but there was still much carrying of\nbows; and on the way home from this expedition, Mr. Patteson suddenly\ncame on six men with bows bent and arrows pointed in his direction. He\nat once recognised a man from Veverao, the next village to the station,\nand called out 'All right!' It proved that a report had come of his\nbeing attacked or killed on the other side of the island, and that they\nhad set out to defend or avenge him.\n\nHe received his champions with reproof:--'This is the very thing I told\nyou not to do. It is all your foolish jealousy and suspicion of them.\nThere is not a man on the island who is not friendly to me! And if they\nwere not friendly, what business have you with your bows and arrows? I\ntell you once more, if I see you take your bows again, though you may\ndo it as you think with a good intention towards me, I will not stay at\nyour village. If you want to help me, receive the Word of God, abandon\nyour senseless ceremonies. That will be helping me indeed!'\n\n'Cannot you live at peace in this little bit of an island?' was the\nconstant theme of these lectures; and when Wompas, his old scholar,\nappeared with bow and arrows, saying, I am sent to defend you,' the\nanswer was, 'Don't talk such nonsense! Give me the bow!' This was done,\nand Patteson was putting it across his knee to break it, when the youth\ndeclared it was not his. 'If I see these things again, you know what\nwill become of them!'\n\nThe mitres and masks were gone; but the Veverao people were desperately\njealous of the next village, Auta, alleging that the inhabitants were\nunfriendly, and by every means trying to keep the guest entirely to\nthemselves; while he resolutely forced on their reluctant ears, 'If\nyou are sincere in saying that you wish to know God, you must love your\nbrother. God will not dwell in a divided heart, nor teach you His truth\nwhile you wilfully continue to hate your brother!'\n\nThe St. Barnabas Day on which most of this was written was a notable\none, for it was marked by the first administration of both the\nSacraments in Mota. In the morning one English and four Nengonese\ncommunicants knelt round their pastor; and, in the evening, after a\nwalk to Auta, and much of this preaching of peace and goodwill, then a\ndinner, which was made festive with preserved meat and wine, there came\na message from one Ivepapeu, a leading man, whose child was sick. It was\nevidently dying, and Mr. Patteson, in the midst of the people, told them\nthat--\n\n'The Son of God had commanded us to teach and baptize all nations; that\nthey did not understand the meaning of what he was about to do, but that\nthe word of JESUS the Son of God was plain, and that he must obey it;\nthat this was not a mere form, but a real gift from heaven, not for the\nbody but the soul; that the child would be as likely to die as before,\nbut that its spirit would be taken to God, and if it should recover, it\nmust be set apart for God, not taken to any heathen rites, but given\nto himself to be trained up as a child of God.' The parents consented:\n'Then,' he continues, 'we knelt, and in the middle of the village, the\nnaked group around me, the dying child in its mother's lap, I prayed to\nGod and Christ in their language to bless the child according to His\nown promise, to receive it for His own child, and to convey to it the\nfulness of the blessing of His holy Sacrament. Then while all were\nsilent, I poured the water on its head, pronouncing the form of words\nin English, and calling the child John, the first Christian child in the\nBanks Islands. Then I knelt down again and praised God for His goodness,\nand prayed that the child might live, if it were His good pleasure, and\nbe educated to His glory; and then I prayed for those around me and for\nthe people of the island, that God would reveal to them His Holy Name\nand Word and Will; and so, with a few words to the parents and people,\nleft them, as darkness settled down on the village and the bright stars\ncame out overhead.'\n\nThe innocent first-fruits of Mota died three days later, and Mr.\nPatteson found a great howling and wailing going on over its little\ngrave under a long low house. This was hushed when he came up, and spoke\nof the Resurrection, and described the babe's soul dwelling in peace in\nthe Kingdom of the Father, where those would join it who would believe\nand repent, cast away their evil practices, and be baptized to live\nas children of God. Kneeling down, he prayed over it, thanking God\nfor having taken it to Himself, and interceding for all around. They\nlistened and seemed touched; no opposition was ever offered to him,\nbut he found that there was much fighting and quarrelling, many of the\nvillages at war with each other, and a great deal too much use of the\nbow and arrow, though the whole race was free from cannibalism. They\nseemed to want to halt between two opinions: to keep up their orgies on\nthe one hand, and to make much of the white teacher on the other; and\nwhen we recollect that two unarmed Englishmen, and twelve blacks\nfrom other islands, were perfectly isolated in the midst of a heathen\npopulation, having refused protection from a British man-of-war, it\ngives a grandeur to the following narrative:--\n\n'June 7th.--One of their chief men has just been with two bread-fruit as\na present. I detected him as a leader of one of their chief ceremonies\nyesterday, and I have just told him plainly that I cannot accept\nanything from him, neither can I suffer him to be coming to my place\nwhile it is notorious that he is teaching the children the very things\nthey ought not to learn, and that he is strongly supporting the old\nfalse system, while he professes to be listening attentively to the Word\nof God. I made him take up his two bread-fruit and carry them away; and\nI suppose it will be the story all over the village that I have driven\nhim away.\n\n'\"By-and-by we will listen to the Word of God, when we have finished\nthese ceremonies.\"\n\n'\"Yes, you hearken first to the voice of the evil spirit; you choose him\nfirsthand then you will care to hear about God.'\"\n\nThe ceremony was to last twenty days, and only affected the lads, who\nwere blackened all over with soot, and apparently presented pigs to the\nold priest, and were afterwards admitted to the privileges of eating and\nsleeping in the separate building, which formed a kind of club-house for\nthe men of each village, and on which Mr. Patteson could always reckon\nas both a lecture room and sleeping place.\n\nThe people kept on saying that 'by-and-by' they would make an end of\ntheir wild ritual, and throw down their enclosures, and at the same time\nthey thronged to talk to him at the Mission station, and built a shed to\nserve for a school at Auta.\n\nMeantime the little estate was brought into order. A pleasant day of\nlandscape-gardening was devoted to clearing gaps to let in the lovely\nviews from the station; and a piece of ground was dug and planted with\npine-apples, vines, oranges, and cotton, also a choicer species of\nbanana than the indigenous one. Bread-fruit was so plentiful that\nbreakfast was provided by sending a boy up a tree to bring down four or\nfive fruits, which were laid in the ashes, and cooked at once; and as to\nbanana leaves 'we think nothing of cutting one down, four feet long and\ntwenty inches wide, of a bright pale green, just to wrap up a cooked yam\nor two.'\n\nThe first week in July, with Wadrokala, Mark, and two Malanta men,\nMr. Patteson set forth in the boat that had been left with him, for an\nexpedition among the other islands, beginning with Saddle Island, or\nValua, which was the proper name.\n\nThe day after leaving Eowa, the weather changed; and as on these\nperilous coasts there was no possibility of landing, two days and the\nintervening night had to be spent in the open four-oared boat, riding to\na grapnel!\n\nVery glad they were to get into Port Patteson, and to land in the wet,\n'as it can rain in the tropics.' The nearest village, however, was\nempty, everybody being gone to the burial wake of the wife of a chief,\nand there was no fire to cook the yams, everything dreary and deserted,\nbut a short walk brought the wet and tired party to the next village,\nwhere they were made welcome to the common house; and after, supping\non yams and chocolate, spent a good night, and found the sea smooth the\nnext day for a return to head-quarters.\n\nThese first weeks at Mota were very happy, but after that the strain\nbegan to tell. Mr. Patteson had been worn with anxiety for his father,\nand no doubt with awe in the contemplation of his coming Episcopate,\nand was not in a strong state of health when he left Kohimarama, and the\nlack of animal food, the too sparing supply of wine, and the bare board\nbed told upon him. On the 24th of July he wrote in a letter to his Uncle\nEdward:--\n\n\n'I have lost six days: a small tumour formed inside the ear about two\ninches from the outer ear, and the pain has been very considerable,\nand the annoyance great. Last night I slept for the first time for five\nnights, and I have been so weary with sleeplessness that I have been\nquite idle. The mischief is passing away now. That ear is quite deaf;\nit made me think so of dear Father and Joan with their constant trial. I\ndon't see any results from our residence here; and why should I look for\nthem? It is enough that the people are hearing, some of them talking,\nand a few thinking about what they hear. All in God's own time!'\n\nMr. Dudley adds: 'His chief trouble at this time was with one of his\nears. The swelling far in not only made him deaf while it lasted, but\ngave him intense and protracted agony. More than once he had to spend\nthe whole night in walking up and down the room. But only on one\noccasion during the whole time do I remember his losing his patience,\nand that was when we had been subjected to an unusually protracted\nvisitation from the \"loafers\" of the village, who would stretch\nthemselves at full length on the floor and table, if we would let\nthem, and altogether conduct themselves in such a manner as to call for\nsummary treatment, very different from the more promising section. The\nhalf jocular but very decided manner in which he cleared the house on\nthis occasion, and made them understand that they were to respect our\nprivacy sometimes, and not make the Mission station an idling place, was\nvery satisfactory. It was no small aggravation of the pain to feel that\nthis might be the beginning of permanent deafness, such as would\nbe fatal to his usefulness in a work in which accuracy of ear was\nessential.'\n\nHowever, this gradually improved; and another boat voyage was made,\nbut again was frustrated by the torrents of rain. In fact, it was an\nunusually wet and unwholesome season, which told upon everyone. Mark\nChakham, the Nengonese, was brought very near the grave by a severe\nattack of dysentery. All the stores of coffee, chocolate, wine and\nbiscuit were used up. The 'Southern Cross' had been due full a month,\nand nothing was heard of her through the whole of September.\n\nTeaching and conversation went on all this time, trying as it was;\nand the people still came to hear, though no one actually undertook to\nforsake his idols.\n\n'I am still hopeful about these people,' is the entry on September 18,\n'though all their old customs and superstitions go on just as before.\nBut (1) they know that a better teaching has been presented to them. (2)\nThey do not pursue their old habits with the same unthinking-security.\n(3) There are signs of a certain uneasiness of mind, as if a struggle\nwas beginning in them. (4) They have a vague consciousness, some of\nthem, that the power is passing away from their witchcrafts, sorceries,\n&c., by which unquestionably they did and still do work strange effects\non the credulous people, like 'Pharaoh's magicians of old.'\n\nThis was ground gained; and one or two voyages to Vanua Lava and\nthe other isles were preparatory steps, and much experience had been\nacquired, and resulted in this:--\n\n'The feasibility of the Bishop's old scheme is more and more apparent\nto me. Only I think that in taking away natives to the summer school, it\nmust be understood that some (and they few) are taken from new islands\nmerely to teach us some of their languages and to frank us, so that we\nmay have access in safety to their islands. Should any of them turn out\nwell, so much the better; but it will not be well to take them with the\nexpectation of their becoming teachers to their people. But the other\nsection of the school will consist of young men whose behaviour we have\nwatched during the winter in their own homes, whose professions we have\nhad an opportunity of testing--they may be treated as young men on the\nway to become teachers eventually to their countrymen. One learns much\nfrom living among a heathen people, and only by living in our pupils'\nhomes shall we ever know their real characters. Poor fellows! they\nare adepts in all kinds of deceitfulness at a very early age, and so\ncompletely in our power on board the schooner and at Kohimarama, that we\nknow nothing of them as they are.'\n\nThe very paper this is copied from shows how the stores were failing,\nfor the full quarto sheets have all failed, and the journal is continued\non note paper.\n\nNot till October 1 was Mr. Patteson's watch by a poor dying woman\ninterrupted by tidings that a ship was in sight. And soon it was too\nplain that she was not the 'Southern Cross,' though, happily, neither\ntrader nor French Mission ship. In a short time there came ashore\nsatisfactory letters from home, but with them the tidings that the\nlittle 'Southern Cross' lay in many fathoms water on the New Zealand\ncoast!\n\nOn her return, on the night of the 17th of June, just as New Zealand\nitself was reached, there was a heavy gale from the north-east. A\ndangerous shoal of rocks, called the Hen and Chickens, stands out from\nthe head of Ngunguru Bay; and, in the darkness and mist, it was supposed\nthat these were safely passed, when the ship struck on the eastern\nChicken, happily on a spot somewhat sheltered from the violence of the\nbreakers. The two passengers and the crew took refuge in the rigging all\nnight; and in the morning contrived to get a line to land, on which\nall were safely drawn through the surf, and were kindly received by the\nnearest English settlers.\n\nSo, after five years' good service, ended the career of the good\n'Southern Cross' the first. She had gone down upon sand, and much of\nthe wreck might have been recovered and made useful again had labour not\nbeen scarce at that time in New Zealand that the Bishop could find no\none to undertake the work, and all he could do was to charter another\nvessel to be despatched to bring home the party from Mota. Nor\nwere vessels fit for the purpose easy to find, and the schooner\n'Zillah'--welcome as was the sight of her--proved a miserable substitute\neven in mere nautical capabilities, and her internal arrangements were\nof course entirely inappropriate to the peculiar wants of the Mission.\n\nThis was the more unfortunate because the very day after her arrival Mr.\nDudley was prostrated by something of a sunstroke. Martin Tehele was\nill already, and rapidly became worse; and Wadrokala and Harper Malo\nsickened immediately, nor was the former patient recovered. Mr. Dudley,\nWadrokala and Harper were for many days in imminent danger, and\nwere scarcely dragged through by the help of six bottles of wine,\nprovidentially sent by the Bishop. Mr. Dudley says:--\n\n'During the voyage Mr. Patteson's powers of nursing were severely tried.\nPoor Martin passed away before we arrived at Nengone, and was committed\nto the deep. Before he died he was completely softened by Mr. Patteson's\nloving care, and asked pardon for all the trouble he had given and the\nfretfulness he had shown. Poor fellow! I well remember how he gasped out\nthe Lord's Prayer after Mr. Patteson a few minutes before he died. We\nall who had crawled up round his bed joining in with them.\n\n'Oh, what a long dreary time that was! Light baffling winds continually,\nand we in a vessel as different from the \"Southern Cross\" as possible,\nabsolutely guiltless, I should think, of having ever made two miles an\nhour to windward \"in a wind.\" The one thing that stands out as having\nrelieved its dreariness is the presence of Mr. Patteson, the visits he\nused to pay to us, and the exquisite pathos of his voice as, from the\ncorner of the hold where we lay, we could hear him reading the Morning\nand Evening Prayers of the Church and leading the hymn. These prevented\nthese long weary wakeful days and nights from being absolutely\ninsupportable.'\n\nAt last Nengone was reached, and Wadrokala and Harper were there set\nashore, better, but very weak. Here the tidings were known that in Lifu\nJohn Cho had lost his wife Margaret, and had married the widow of\na Karotongan teacher, a very suitable match, but too speedy to be\naccording to European ideas; and on November 26 the 'Zillah' was off the\nThree Kings, New Zealand.\n\n\n'Monday: Nov. 26, 1860. '\"Zillah\" Schooner, off the Three Kings, N. of\nNew Zealand.\n\n'You know pretty well that Kohimarama is a small bay, about one-third\nof a mile along the sea frontage, two-and-a-half miles due east of\nAuckland, and just opposite the entrance into the harbour, between the\nNorth Head and Eangitoto. The beach is composed entirely of the shells\nof \"pipi\" (small cockles); always, therefore, dry and pleasant to walk\nupon. A fence runs along the whole length of it. At the eastern end\nof it, a short distance inside this N. (= sea) fence, are the three\ncottages of the master and mate and Fletcher. Sam Fletcher is a\nman-of-war's man, age about thirty-eight, who has been with us some four\nyears and a half. He has all the habits of order and cleanliness that\nhis life as coxswain of the captain's gig taught him; he is a very\nvaluable fellow. He is our extra man at sea.\n\n'Each of these cottages has its garden, and all three men are married,\nbut only the master (Grange) has any family, one married daughter.\n\n'Then going westward comes a nine-acre paddock, and then a dividing\nfence, inside (i.e. to W.) of which stand our buildings.\n\n'Now our life here is hard to represent. It is not like the life of an\nordinary schoolmaster, still less like that of an ordinary clergyman.\nMuch of the domestic and cooking department I may manage, of course,\nto superintend. I would much rather do this than have the nuisance of a\npaid servant.\n\n'So at 5 A.M., say, I turn out; I at once go to the kitchen, and set the\ntwo cooks of the week to work, light fire, put on yams or potatoes, then\nback to dress, read, &c.; in and out all the time, of the kitchen till\nbreakfast time: say 8 or 8.30. You would be surprised to see how very\nsoon the lads will do it all by themselves, and leave me or Mr. Kerr to\ngive all our attention to school and other matters.\n\n'So you can fancy, Joan, now, the manner of life. My little room with my\nbooks is my snuggery during the middle of the day, and at night I have\nalso a large working table at one end of the big school-room, covered\nwith books, papers, &c., and here I sit a good deal, my room being\ntoo small to hold the number of books that I require to have open for\ncomparison of languages, and for working out grammatical puzzles. Then\nI am in and out of the kitchen and store-room, and boys' rooms, seeing\nthat all things, clothes, blankets, floors, &c., are washed and kept\nclean, and doing much what is done in every house.'\n\nSnuggery no doubt it looked compared with the 'Zillah;' but what would\nthe 'Eton fellow' of fifteen years back have thought of the bare,\nscantily furnished room, with nothing but the books, prints, and\nphotographs around to recall the tastes of old, and generally a sick\nMelanesian on the floor? However, he was glad enough to return thither,\nthough with only sixteen scholars from ten places. Among them was\nTaroniara from Bauro, who was to be his follower, faithful to death. The\nfollowing addition was made to the letter to Mr. Edward Coleridge, begun\nin Banks Islands:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama: Dec. 1, 1860.\n\n'One line, my dear tutor, before I finish off my pile of hastily written\nletters for this mail.\n\n'Alas! alas! for the little schooner, that dear little vessel, our home\nfor so many months of each year, so admirably qualified for her work.\nWhether she may be got off her sandy bed, no one can say. Great expense\nwould certainly be incurred, and the risk of success great also.\n\n'I have not yet had time to talk to the Bishop, I only reached New\nZealand on November 28. We cannot, however, well do our work in\nchartered vessels [then follows a full detail of the imperfections of\nthe 'Zillah' and all other Australian merchant craft; then--But, dear\nold tutor, even the \"Southern Cross\" (though what would I give to\nsee her now at her usual anchorage from the window at which I am now\nsitting!) for a time retires into the distance, as I think of what is to\ntake place (D.V.) in January next.\n\n'I hoped that I had persuaded the Bishop that the meeting of the General\nSynod in February 1862 would be a fit time. I do not see that the Duke's\ndespatch makes any difference in the choice of the time. But all was\nsettled in my absence; and now at the Feast of the Epiphany or of\nthe Conversion of St. Paul (as suits the convenience of the Southern\nBishops) the Consecration is to take place. I am heartily glad that the\nprinciple of consecrating Missionary Bishops will be thus affirmed and\nacted upon; but oh! if some one else was to be the Bishop!\n\n'And yet I must not distrust God's grace, and the gift of the Holy\nSpirit to enable me for this work. I try and pray to be calm and\nresigned, and I am happy and cheerful.\n\n'And it is a blessed thing that now three of your old dear friends, once\ncalled Selwyn, Abraham, Hobhouse should be consecrating your own nephew\nand pupil, gathered by God's providence into the same part of God's\nfield at the ends of the earth.'\n\n\nStill with his heart full of the never-forgotten influence of his\nmother, he thus begins his home letter of the same date:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama: Dec. 1.\n\n'My dearest Father,--I could not write on November 28, but the memory of\nthat day in 1842 was with me from morning to night. We anchored on that\nday at 1 A.M., and I was very busy till late at night. I had no idea\ntill I came back from the Islands that there was any change in the\narrangements for the consecration in February 1862. But now the Bishops\nof Wellington and Nelson have been summoned for the Feast of the\nEpiphany, or of the conversion of St. Paul, and all was done in\nmy absence. I see, too, that you in England have assumed that the\nconsecration will take place soon after the reception of the Duke's\ndespatch.\n\n'I must not now shrink from it, I know. I have full confidence in\nyour judgment, and in that of the Bishop; and I suppose that if I was\nspeaking of another, I should say that I saw reasons for it. But depend\nupon it, my dear Father, that a man cannot communicate to another the\nwhole of the grounds upon which he feels reluctant to accept an office.\nI believe that I ought to accept this in deference to you all, and I do\nso cheerfully, but I don't, say that my judgment agrees wholly with you\nall.\n\n'And yet there is no one else; and if the separation of New Zealand and\nMelanesia is necessary, I see that this must be the consequence. So I\nregard it now as a certainty. I pray God to strengthen and enable me: I\nlook forward, thanks to Him, hopefully and cheerfully. I have the love\nand the prayers of many, many friends, and soon the whole Church of\nEngland will recognise me as one who stands in special need of grace and\nstrength from above.\n\n'Oh! the awful power of heathenism! the antagonism, not of evil only,\nbut of the Evil One, rather, I mean the reality felt of all evil\nemanating from a person, as St. Paul writes, and as our Lord spoke of\nhim. I do indeed at times feel overwhelmed, as if I was in a dream. Then\ncomes some blessed word or thought of comfort, and promised strength and\ngrace.\n\n'But enough of this.\n\n'The \"Southern Cross\" cannot, I think, be got off without great certain\nexpense and probable risk. I think we shall have to buy another vessel,\nand I dare say she may be built at home, but I don't know what is the\nBishop's mind about it....\n\n'I shall write to Merton, I don't know why I should needs vacate my\nfellowship. I have no change of outward circumstances brought upon me\nby my change presently from the name of Presbyter to Bishop, and we want\nall the money.\n\n'What you say about a Missionary Bishop being for five months of the\nyear within the diocese of another Bishop, I will talk over with the\nBishop of New Zealand. I think our Synodical system will make that\nall right; and as for my work, it will be precisely the same in all\nrespects, my external life altered only to the extent of my wearing a\nbroader brimmed and lower crowned hat. Dear Joan is investing moneys in\ncutaway coats, buckles without end, and no doubt knee-breeches and what\nshe calls \"gambroons\" (whereof I have no cognizance), none of which will\nbe worn more than (say) four or five times in the year. Gambroons and\naprons and lawn sleeves won't go a-voyaging, depend upon it. Just when\nI preach in some Auckland church I shall appear in full costume; but the\nbuckles will grow very rusty indeed!\n\n'How kind and good of her to take all the trouble, I don't laugh\nat that, and at her dear love for me and anxiety that I should have\neverything; but I could not help having a joke about gambroons, whatever\nthey are....\n\n'Good-bye once more, my dearest Father. You will, I trust, receive\nthis budget about the time of your birthday. How I think of you day and\nnight, and how I thank you for all your love, and perhaps most of all,\nnot only letting me come to Melanesia, but for your great love in never\ncalling me away from my work even to see your face once more on earth.\n\n'Your loving and dutiful son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nRemark upon a high-minded letter is generally an impertinence both to\nthe writer and the reader, but I cannot help pausing upon the foregoing,\nto note the force of the expression that thanks the father for the love\nthat did not recall the son. What a different notion these two men had\nof love from that which merely seeks self-gratification! Observe,\ntoo, how the old self-contemplative, self-tormenting spirit, that was\nunhappiness in those days of growth and heart-searching at the first\nentrance into the ministry, had passed into humble obedience and trust.\nLooking back to the correspondence of ten years ago, volumes of progress\nare implied in the quiet 'Enough of this.'\n\nThere were, however, some delays in bringing the three together, and on\nthe New Year's Day of 1861, the designate writes to Bishop Abraham:\n'I dare say the want of any positive certainty as to the time of the\nConsecration is a good discipline for me. I think I feel calm now; but\nI know I must not trust feelings, and when I think of those islands and\nthe practical difficulty of getting at them, and the need of so many of\nthose qualities which are so wonderfully united in our dear Primate,\nI need strength from above indeed to keep my heart from sinking. But I\nthink that I do long and desire to work on by God's grace, and not to\nlook to results at all.'\n\nA 'supplementary mail' made possible a birthday letter (the last)\nwritten at 6 A.M. on the 11th of February: 'I wanted of course to write\nto you to-day. Many happy returns of it I wish you indeed, for it may\nyet please God to prolong your life; but in any case you know well how\nI am thinking and praying for you that every blessing and comfort may\nbe given you. Oh I how I do think of you night and day. When Mrs. Selwyn\nsaid \"Good-bye,\" and spoke of you, I could not stand it. I feel that\nanything else (as I fancy) I can speak of with composure; but the verses\nin the Bible, such as the passage which I read yesterday in St. Mark x.,\nalmost unnerve me, and I can't wish it to be otherwise. But I feel that\nmy place is here, and that I must look to the blessed hope of meeting\nagain hereafter....\n\n'Of course no treat is so great to me as the occasional talks with the\nBishop. Oh! the memory of those days and evenings on board the \"Southern\nCross.\" Well, it was so happy a life that it was not good for me,\nI suppose, that it should last. But I feel it now that the sense of\nresponsibility is deepening on me, and I must go out to work without\nhim; and very, very anxious I am sometimes, and almost oppressed by it.\n\n'But strength will come; and it is not one's own work, which is the\ncomfort, and if I fail (which is very likely) God will place some other\nman in my position, and the work will go on, whether in my hands or not,\nand that is the real point.\n\n'Some talk I find there has been about my going home. I did not hear\nof it until after Mrs. Selwyn had sailed. It was thought of, but it was\nfelt, as I certainly feel, that it ought not to be.... My work lies\nout here clearly; and it is true that any intermission of voyages or\nresidences in the islands is to be avoided.'\n\nMrs. Selwyn had gone home for a year, and had so arranged as to see the\nPatteson family almost immediately on her return. Meantime the day drew\non. The Consecration was not by Royal mandate, as in the case of Bishops\nof sees under British jurisdiction; but the Duke of Newcastle, then\nColonial Secretary, wrote:--'That the Bishops of New Zealand are at\nliberty, without invasion of the Royal prerogative or infringement of\nthe law of England, to exercise what Bishop Selwyn describes as their\ninherent power of consecrating Mr. Patteson or any other person to take\ncharge of the Melanesian Islands, provided that the consecration should\ntake place beyond British territory.'\n\nIn consequence it was proposed that the three consecrating Bishops\nshould take ship and perform the holy rite in one of the isles beneath\nthe open sky; but as Bishop Mackenzie had been legally consecrated in\nCape Town Cathedral, the Attorney-General of New Zealand gave it as his\nopinion that there was no reason that the consecration should not take\nplace in Auckland.\n\n\n'Kohimarama: Feb. 15, 1861.\n\n'My dearest Father,--Mr. Kerr, who has just returned from Auckland,\nwhere he spent yesterday, brings me the news that the question of the\nConsecration has been settled, and that it will take place (D.V.) on\nSunday week, St. Matthias Day, February 24.\n\n'I ought not to shrink back now. The thought has become familiar to me,\nand I have the greatest confidence in the judgment of the Bishop of New\nZealand; and I need not say how your words and letters and prayers too\nare helping me now.\n\n'Indeed, though at any great crisis of our lives no doubt we are\nintended to use more than ordinary strictness in examining our motives\nand in seeking for greater grace, deeper repentance, more earnest and\nentire devotion to God, and amendment of life, yet I know that any\nstrong-emotion, if it existed now, would pass away soon, and that I must\nbe the same man as Bishop as I am now, in this sense, viz., that I shall\nhave just the same faults, unless I pray for strength to destroy them,\nwhich I can do equally well now, and that all my characteristic and\npeculiar habits of mind will remain unchanged by what will only change\nmy office and not myself. So that where I am indolent now I shall be\nindolent henceforth, unless I seek to get rid of indolence; and I shall\nnot be at all better, wiser, or more consistent as Bishop than I am now\nby reason simply of being a Bishop.\n\n'You know my meaning. Now I apply what I write to prove that any strong\nexcitement now would be no evidence of a healthy state of mind. I feel\nnow like myself, and that is not at all like what I wish to be. And so\nI thank God that as before any solemn season special inducements to\nearnest repentance are put into our minds, so I now feel a special call\nupon me to seek by His grace to make a more faithful use of the means of\nusefulness which He gives me, that I may be wholly and entirely turned\nto Him, and so be enabled to do His will in Melanesia. You know, my\ndearest Father, that I do not indeed undervalue the grace of Ordination;\nonly I mean that the right use of any great event in one's life, as I\ntake it, is not to concentrate feeling so much on it as earnestness of\npurpose, prayer for grace, and for increase of simplicity and honesty\nand purity of heart. Perhaps other matters affect me more than my\nsupposed state of feeling, so that my present calmness may be attributed\nto circumstances of which I am partially ignorant; and, indeed, I do\nwonder that I am calm when one moment's look at the map, or thought of\nthe countless islands, almost overwhelms me. How to get at them? Where\nto begin? How to find men and means? How to decide upon the best method\nof teaching, &c.? But I must try to be patient, and to be content with\nvery small beginnings--and endings, too, perhaps.\n\n\n'Sunday, Feb. 24, St. Matthias, 10 A.M.--The day is come, my dearest\nFather, and finds me, I thank God, very calm. Yesterday, at 6 P.M., in\nthe little chapel at Taurama, the three Bishops, the dear Judge, Lady\nMartin, Mrs. Abraham, Mr. Lloyd and I met together for special prayer.\nHow we missed Mrs. Selwyn, dear dear Mrs. Selwyn, from among us, and how\nmy thoughts passed on to you! Evening hymn, Exhortation in Consecration\nService, Litany from the St. Augustine's Missionary Manual, with the\nquestions in Consecration Service turned into petitions, Psalm cxxxii.,\ncxxxi., li.; Lesson i Tim. iii.; special prayer for the Elect Bishop\namong the heathen, for the conversion of the heathen; and the Gloria in\nExcelsis.\n\n'Then the dear Bishop walked across to me, and taking my hand in both\nof his, looking at me with that smile of love and deep deep thought, so\nseldom seen, and so deeply prized. \"I can't tell you what I feel,\" he\nsaid, with a low and broken voice. \"You know it--my heart is too full! \"\n\n'Ah! the memory of six years with that great and noble servant of God\nwas in my heart too, and so we stood, tears in our eyes, and I unable to\nspeak.\n\n'At night again, when, after arranging finally the service, I was left\nwith him alone, he spoke calmly and hopefully. Much he said of you, and\nwe are all thinking much of you. Then he said: \"I feel no misgiving in\nmy heart; I think all has been done as it should be. Many days we three\nhave discussed the matter. By prayer and Holy Communion we have sought\nlight from above, and it is, I believe, God's will.\" Then once more\ntaking both hands, he kissed my forehead: \"God bless you, my dear Coley.\nI can't say more words, and you don't desiderate them.\"\n\n'\"No,\" said I; \"my heart, as yours, is too full for words. I have lived\nsix years with you to little purpose, if I do not know you full well\nnow!\"\n\n'And then I walked, in the perfect peace of a still cloudless night--the\nmoon within two days of full--the quarter of a mile to St. Stephen's\nschools, where I slept last night. On the way I met the Bishop of\nWellington and Mrs. Abraham, coming up from St. Stephen's to the\nBishop's house.\n\nJ. C. P.--What a night of peace! the harbour like a silver mirror!\n\n'B. of W.--Dominus tecum.\n\n'Mrs. A.--I trust you will sleep.\n\n'J. C. P.--I thank you; I think so. I feel calm.\n\n\n'Sunday Night, 10 P.M. (Feniton, Sunday, 10.40 A.M.)--It is over--a most\nsolemn blessed service. Glorious day. Church crowded--many not able to\nfind admittance; but orderly. More than two hundred communicants. More\nto-morrow (D.V.). All day you have been in our minds. The Bishop spoke\nof you in his sermon with faltering voice, and I broke down; yet at the\nmoment of the Veni Creator being sung over me, and the Imposition of\nHands, I was very calm. The Bible presented is the same that you gave\nme on my fifth birthday with your love and blessing. Oh! my dear dear\nFather, God will bless you for all your love to me, and your love to Him\nin giving me to His service. May His heavenly blessing be with you--all\nyour dear ones for ever!\n\n'Your most loving and dutiful Son,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.\n\n\n'February 25th.--I am spending to-day and to-morrow here--i.e., sleeping\nat the Judge's, dining and living half at his house, and half at the\nBishop's--quiet and calm it is, and I prize it. The music yesterday was\nvery good; organ well played. The choirs of the three town churches,\nand many of the choral society people, filled the gallery--some eighty\nvoices perhaps. The Veni Creator the only part that was not good, well\nsung, but too much like an anthem.\n\n'Tagalana, half-sitting, half-kneeling behind me, held the book for the\nPrimate to read from at the Imposition of Hands--a striking group, I am\ntold.'\n\n\nHere ends the letter, to which a little must be added from other\npens; and, first, from Mrs. Abraham's letter for the benefit of Eton\nfriends:--\n\n\n'The Consecration was at St. Paul's Church, in default of a Cathedral.\nBuilt before the Bishop arrived, St. Paul's has no chancel: and the\nClergy, including a Maori Deacon, were rather crowded within the rail.\nMr. Patteson was seated in a chair in front, ten of his island boys\nclose to him, and several working men of the rougher sort were brought\ninto the benches near. We were rather glad of the teaching that none\nwere excluded. The service was all in harmony with the occasion; and the\nsermon gave expression to all the individual and concentrated feeling of\nthe moment, as well as pointing the Lesson and its teaching.\n\n'The sermon was on the thought of the Festival: \"And they prayed, and\nsaid, Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men, show whether of\nthese two Thou hast chosen.\" (Acts i. 24.) After speaking of the special\nimport and need of the prayers of those gathered to offer up their\nprayers at the Holy Communion, for those who were to exercise the office\nof apostles in their choice, he spoke in words that visibly almost\noverpowered their subject:--\n\n'\"In this work of God, belonging to all eternity, and to the Holy\nCatholic Church, are we influenced by any private feelings, any personal\nregard? The charge which St. Paul gives to Timothy, in words of awful\nsolemnity, 'to lay hands suddenly on no man,' may well cause much\nsearching of heart. 'I charge thee before God, and the Lord Jesus\nChrist, and the elect angels, that thou observe these things, without\npreferring one before another, doing nothing by partiality.' Does our\nown partial love deceive us in this choice? We were all trained in\nthe same place of education, united in the same circle of friends; in\nboyhood, youth, manhood, we have shared the same services, and joys,\nand hopes, and fears. I received this, my son in the ministry of Christ\nJesus, from the hands of a father, of whose old age he was the\ncomfort. He sent him forth without a murmur, nay, rather with joy and\nthankfulness, to these distant parts of the earth. He never asked even\nto see him again, but gave him up without reserve to the Lord's work.\nPray, dear brethren, for your Bishops, that our partial love may not\ndeceive us in this choice, for we cannot so strive against natural\naffection as to be quite impartial.\"\n\n'And again, as the Primate, addressing more especially his beloved son\nin the ministry, exclaimed, \"May Christ be with you when you go forth in\nHis name, and for His sake, to those poor and needy people,\" and his eye\nwent along the dusky countenances of his ten boys, Coleridge Patteson\ncould hardly restrain his intensity of feeling.'\n\nAnother letter from the same lady to the sisters adds further details to\nthe scene, after describing the figures in the church:--\n\n'Lady Martin, who had never seen the dress (the cassock and rochet)\nbefore, said that Coley reminded her of the figures of some young knight\nwatching his armour, as he stood in his calm stedfastness, and answered\nthe questions put to him by the Primate.\n\n'The whole service was very nicely ordered, and the special Psalm well\nchanted. With one exception (which was, alas! the Veni Creator), the\nmusic was good, and Coley says was a special help to him; the pleasure\nof it, and the external hold that it gave, helping him out of himself,\nas it were, and sustaining him.'\n\nLady Martin adds her touch to the picture; and it may perhaps be\nrecorded for those who may in after times read the history of the first\nBishop of the Melanesian Church, that whatever might be wanting in\nthe beauty of St. Paul's, Auckland, never were there three Bishops who\noutwardly as well as inwardly more answered to the dignity of their\noffice than the three who stood over the kneeling Coleridge Patteson.\n\n'I shall never forget the expression of his face as he knelt in the\nquaint rochet. It was meek and holy and calm, as though all conflict\nwas over and he was resting in the Divine strength. It was altogether a\nwonderful scene: the three consecrating Bishops, all such noble-looking\nmen, the goodly company of clergy and Hohua's fine intelligent brown\nface among them, and then the long line of island boys, and of St.\nStephen's native teachers and their wives, were living testimonies of\nMission work. Coley had told us in the morning of a consecration he had\nseen at Rome, where a young Greek deacon had held a large illuminated\nbook for the Pope to read the words of Consecration. We had no such\ngorgeous dresses as they, but nothing could have been more simply\nbeautiful and touching than the sight of Tagalana's young face as he did\nthe same good office. There was nothing artistic about it; the boy came\nforward with a wondering yet bright look on his pleasant face, just\ndressed in his simple grey blouse.\n\n'You will read the sermon, so there is no need to talk about it. Your\nbrother was overcome for a minute at the reference to his father, but\nthe comfort and favour of His Heavenly Master kept him singularly calm,\nthough the week before he had undoubtedly had much struggle, and his\nbodily health was affected.'\n\nAll the friends who were thus brought together were like one family,\nand still called the new Bishop by the never disused abbreviation that\nrecalled his home. He was the guest of the now retired Chief Justice and\nLady Martin, who were occupying themselves in a manner probably unique\nin the history of law and lawyers, by taking charge of the native school\nat St. Stephen's.\n\nThe next two were great days of letter writing. Another long full letter\nwas written to the father, telling of the additional record which\neach of the three consecrating Bishops had written in the Bible of his\nchildhood, and then going into business matters, especially hoping that\nthe Warden and Fellows of Merton would not suppose that as a Bishop he\nnecessarily had \u00a35,000 a year and a palace, whereas in fact the see\nhad no more than the capital of \u00a35,000 required by Government! He had\nalready agreed with his father that his own share of the inheritance\nshould go to the Mission; and, as he says, on hearing the amount:--\n\n'Hard enough you worked, my dear Father, to leave your children so well\noff. Dear old Jem will have enough; and my children now dwell in 200\nislands, and will need all that I can give them. God grant that the day\nmay come when many of them may understand these things, and rise up and\ncall your memory blessed!\n\n'Your words of comfort and blessing come to me with fresh strength just\nnow, two days only after the time when you too, had you been here, would\nin private have laid your hand on my head and called down God's blessing\nupon me. I shall never know in this world what I owe to your prayers.'\n\nThere is much, too, of his brother's marriage; and in a separate letter\nto the sisters there are individual acknowledgments of each article of\nthe equipment, gratifying the donor by informing her that the 'cutaway'\ncoat was actually to be worn that very evening at a dinner party at the\nChief Justice's, and admiring the 'gambroon,' which turned out to be the\nmaterial of the cassock, so much as to wish for a coat made of it for\nthe islands. Apropos of the hat:-- 'You know my forehead is square, so\nthat an oval hat does not fit; it would hang on by the temples, which\nform a kind of right angle with the forehead.'\n\nAnother letter of that 26th was from the Bishop of Wellington to Dr.\nGoodford respecting this much-loved old pupil:--\n\n'Anything more conscientious and painstaking cannot be conceived than\nthe way he has steadily directed every talent, every hour or minute\nof his life, to the one work he had set before him. However small\nor uncongenial or drumdrudgery-like his occupation, however hard, or\ndangerous, or difficult, it seemed to be always met in the same calm,\ngentle, self-possessed spirit of love and duty, which I should fancy\nthat those who well knew his good and large-minded, large-hearted\nfather, and his mother, whom I have always heard spoken of as saintly,\ncould best understand. Perhaps the most marked feature in his character\nis his genuine simplicity and humility. I never saw it equalled in one\nso gifted and so honoured and beloved.\n\n'It is really creditable to the community to see how universal is the\nadmiration for his character, for he is so very good, so exceedingly\nunworldly, and therefore such a living rebuke to the selfishness of the\nworld; and though so gentle, yet so firm and uncompromising that you\nwould have supposed he would hardly be popular outside the circle\nof friends who know him and understand him. Certainly he is the most\nperfect character I ever met.'\n\nThe last day of February was that of the Installation.\n\nAgain Mrs. Abraham must speak:--\n\n'On Thursday last we had another happy day at Kohimarama, where Bishop\nPatteson was duly installed in the temporary chapel of St. Andrew's\nCollege, as we hope to call it, after the church at Cocksmoor, in \"The\nDaisy Chain.\" The morning was grey, and we feared rain would keep our\nladies away, but we made the venture with our willing squire, Mr. M----,\nin the \"Iris\" boat to help us. The pity was, that after all Lady Martin\ncould not go, as she had an invalid among her Maori flock, whom she\ncould not trust all day by herself. The day lightened, and our sail was\npleasant.\n\n'The Primate and Missionary Bishop planted a Norfolk pine in the centre\nof the quadrangle--\"the tree planted by the water side,\" &c. The Bishop\nthen robed and proceeded to chapel, and the Primate led the little\nservice in which he spoke the words of installation, and the mew Bishop\ntook the oath of allegiance to him. The Veni Creator was sung, and the\nPrimate's blessing-given. The island boys looked on from one transept,\nthe \"Iris\" sailors from another, and Charlie stood beside me. I am\nafraid his chief remembrance of the day is fixed upon Kanambat's tiny\nboat and outrigger, which he sat in on the beach, and went on voyages,\nin which the owner waded by his side, and saw him (Kanambat) skim along\nthe waves like a white butterfly. We all dined in hall, after the boys,\non roast beef and plum pudding, melons and water melons, and strolled\nabout the place and beach at leisure, till it was time to sail back\nagain.'\n\nOn the Sunday the new Bishop preached at St. Mary's one of the sermons\nthat broke from him when he was too much excited (if the word may be\nused) for his usual metaphysical style. The subject was the promise\nof the Comforter, His eternal presence and anointing, and the need of\nintercessory prayer, for which the preacher besought earnestly, as one\ntoo young for his office, and needing to increase in the Holy Spirit\nmore and more. Very far were these from being unrealised words. God's\ngrace had gone along with him, and had led him through every step and\nstage of his life, and so mastered his natural defects, that friends who\nonly knew him in these years hear with incredulous indignation of those\nflaws he had conquered in his younger days. 'Fearless as a man, tender\nas a woman, showing both the best sides of human nature,' says one of\nthe New Zealand friends who knew him best; 'always drawing out the good\nin all about him by force of sympathy, and not only taking care that\nnothing should be done by others that he would not do himself, but doing\nhimself what he did not like to ask of them, and thinking that they\nexcelled him.' Humility, the effort of his life, was achieved at last\nthe more truly because not consciously.\n\nThe letter to his father was again almost wholly on money matters; but\nat the end come two notable sentences:--\n\n'How can I thank you for giving me up to this work, and for all the wise\nand loving words with which you constantly cheer me and encourage me?\nYour blessing comes now to strengthen me, as work and responsibilities\nare fast accumulating upon me. I thank God that He enables us at the\ntwo ends of the world to see this matter in the same way, so that no\nconflict of duties arises in my mind.\n\n'This book, \"Essays and Reviews,\" I have, but pray send your copy also;\nalso any good books that may be produced bearing on that great question\nof the Atonement, and on Inspiration, Authority of Scripture, &c. How\nsad it is to see that spirit of intellectualism thinking to deal with\nreligion in forgetfulness of the necessary conditions of humility and\nfaith! How different from the true gnosis!'\n\n\n'Kohimarama: April 29, 1861.\n\n'My dearest Father,--As I read your letters of Feb. 21-25, you are, I\ntrust, reading mine which tell you of what took place on Feb. 24. That\npoint is settled. I almost fear to write that I am a Bishop in the\nChurch of Christ. May God strengthen me for the duties of the office to\nwhich I trust He has indeed called me!\n\n'As I read of what you say so wisely and truly, and dear Joan and Fan\nand Aunt James and all, of my having expected results too rapidly at\nMota, I had sitting with me that dear boy Tagalana, who for two months\nlast winter was in the great sacred enclosure, though, dear lad, not by\nhis own will, yet his faith was weak, and no wonder.\n\n'Now, God's holy name be praised for it, he is, I verily believe, in his\nvery soul, taught by the Spirit to see and desire to do his duty. I feel\nmore confidence about him than I have done about anyone who has come\ninto my hands originally in a state of complete heathenism. It is\nnot that his knowledge only is accurate and clearly grasped, but the\nhumility, the loving spirit, the (apparent) personal appropriation of\nthe blessing of having been brought to know the love of God and the\nredemption wrought for him by the death of Christ; this is what, as I\nlook upon his clear truthful eyes, makes me feel so full of thankfulness\nand praise.\n\n'\"But Tagalana, if I should die, you used to say that without my help\nyou should perhaps fall back again: is that true?\"\n\n'\"No, no; I did not feel it then as I do now in my heart. I can't tell\nhow it came there, only I know He can never die, and will always be with\nme. You know you said you were only like a sign-post, to point out the\nway that leads to Him, and I see that we ought to follow you, but to go\naltogether to Him.\"\n\n'I can't tell you, my dearest Father, what makes up the sum of my\nreasons for thinking that God is in His mercy bringing this dear boy to\nbe the first-fruits of Mota unto the Christ, but I think that there is\nan inward teaching going on now in his heart, which gives me sure hope,\nfor I know it is not my doing.\n\n'All you all say about Mota is most true: I never thought otherwise\nreally, but I wrote down my emotions and impulses rather than my\ndeliberate thoughts, that my letter written under such strange\ncircumstances might become as a record of the effect produced day by day\nupon us by outward circumstances.\n\n'What some of you say about self-possession on one's going about among\nthe people being marvellous, is just what of course appears to me\ncommonplace. Of course it is wrong to risk one's life, but to carry\none's life in one's hand is what other soldiers besides those of the\nCross do habitually; and no one, as I think, would willingly hurt a hair\nof my head in Melanesia, or that part of it where I am at all known.\n\n'How I think of those islands! How I see those bright coral and sandy\nbeaches, strips of burning sunshine fringing the masses of forest rising\ninto ridges of hills, covered with a dense mat of vegetation. Hundreds\nof people are crowding upon them, naked, armed, with wild uncouth\ncries and gestures; I cannot talk to them but by signs. But they are my\nchildren now! May God enable me to do my duty to them!\n\n'I have now as I write a deepening sense of what the change must be that\nhas passed upon me. Again I go by God's blessing for seven months to\nMelanesia. All that our experience has taught us we try to remember:\nfood, medicine, articles of trade and barter.\n\n'But what may be the result? Who can tell? You know it is not of myself\nthat I am thinking. If God of His great mercy lead me in His way, to me\nthere is little worth living for but the going onward with His blessed\nwork, though I like my talks with the dear Bishop and the Judge. But\nothers are committed to me--Mr. Pritt and Mr. Kerr go with me. Shall I\nfind dear old Wadrokala and Harper alive, and if alive, well?\n\n'And yet, thank God, we go on day by day, so happy, so hopeful!\n\n'I see two sermons by the Bishop of Oxford, \"God's Revelation Man's\nTrial,\" please send them. They bear, I conclude, on the controversy\nof the day. I need not tell you that I find a very great interest in\nreading these books, or rather at present in talking now and then, when\nwe meet, with the Judge on the subject of which those books treat. The\nbooks I have not read. But I know no refreshment so great as the reading\nany books which deal with these questions thoughtfully. I hope you don't\nthink it wrong and dangerous for me to do so; pray tell me. I don't\nbelieve that I am wrong in doing it, yet it may be that I read them\nas an intellectual treat, and prefer them to thoughtful books on other\nsubjects, because they deal with a study which I am a little more\nconversant with than with history, science, &c.\n\n'Besides, I do see that we have, many of us, very vague notions of the\nmeaning of terms which we use, and I see that I must be prepared (I\nspeak for myself) to expect that a clergyman may not with impunity use a\nlanguage wanting in definiteness and precision. It is possible that\nmen do too passively receive hereditary and conventional opinions\nwhich never have a living reality to them. But this, you know, I do not\nconfound with the humble submission to authoritative teaching, given\nupon authority, to supersede the necessity of every person investigating\nfor himself the primary grounds of his religious convictions.'\n\nIt is worth noting how the Bishop submits his reading to his father's\napproval, as when he was a young boy. Alas! no more such letters of\ncomfort and counsel would be exchanged. This one could hardly have been\nreceived by that much-loved father.\n\nPreparations for the voyage were going on; but the 'Dunedin,' the only\nvessel to be procured, at best a carthorse to a racer compared with the\n'Southern Cross,' was far from being in a satisfactory state, as appears\nin a note of 3rd of May to the Bishop of Wellington:--\n\n'Here we are still. The only vessel that I could make any arrangement\nabout not yet returned, and known to be in such a state that the pumps\nwere going every two hours. I have not chartered her, but only agreed\nwith the owner a month ago nearly that I would take her at a certain sum\nper day, subject to divers conditions about being caulked (which is all\nshe wants, I have ascertained), being provided with spare sails, spars,\nchronometer, boat, &c., and all agreement to be off unless by a certain\nday (already past) she was in a state satisfactory to Mr. Kerr. But\nthere is, I fear, none other, and I am in a difficulty.'\n\n\nOf the same day is a letter to the Rev. Stephen Hawtrey:--\n\n\n'Taurarua, Auckland: May 6, 1861.\n\n'My dear Mr. Hawtrey,--I was highly pleased to receive a note from you.\nThough I never doubt of the hearty sympathy and co-operation of all Eton\nfriends (how could you do so with such an annual subscription list?),\nyet it is very pleasant and more than pleasant to be reminded by word or\nby letter that prayers and wishes are being offered up for Melanesia by\nmany good men throughout the world.\n\n'I should like to send a special appeal for a Mission Vessel by the next\nmail. We cannot get on without one. Vessels built for freight are to the\n\"Southern Cross\" as a cart-horse to a thoroughbred steed, and we must\nhave some vessel which can do the work quickly among the multitude of\nthe isles, and many other reasons there are which we seamen only perhaps\ncan judge fully, which make it quite essential to the carrying on this\npeculiar Mission that we should have a vessel of a peculiar kind.\n\n'Tagalana, from Mota (Sugar Loaf Island), in the Banks Archipelago, is,\nI think, likely by God's great mercy to become the first-fruits of that\ncluster of islands unto Christ. He is here for the third time; and I\nhave infinite comfort in seeing the earnestness of his character, and\nthe deep sense of what he was, and what he is going to be, so truly\nrealised.\n\n'He is now so unlike what still his people are, so bright and open in\nmanner, and all who see him say, \"What is come to the lad, his manner\nand very appearance so changed!\" \"Clothed,\" thank God, he is, \"and in\nhis right mind,\" soon to sit, if not already seated, at the feet\nof Christ. You may, if you think fit, let your thoughts centre more\nespecially in him. He, of all who have come into my hands absolutely\nstark naked and savage, gives now the greatest ground for hope and\nthanksgiving. I shall (D.V.) think of all your dear friends assembled in\nyour church and house on St. Barnabas Day. May God bless and reward you\nall for your work of charity to Melanesia!\n\n'Very sincerely yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.\n\n'P.S.--I hope to baptize that dear boy Tagalana on his own island in the\ncourse of the winter. I should wish to make the service as impressive\nas possible, in the presence of as many islanders as I can bring to the\nspot, under the shadow of a mighty banyan tree, and above the sparkling\nwaves of the great Pacific.'\n\n\nThe 'Dunedin' was patched up into sailing with the new Bishop for his\ncathedral--the banyan tree of Mota.\n\nIt carried him away to his work, away from all knowledge of the blow\nthat was preparing for him at home, and thinking of the delight that was\nin store for his family in a visit from Mrs. Selwyn, who, immediately\nafter his Consecration, had returned home to spend a year in England on\nbusiness.\n\nSir John Patteson's happiness in his son's work and worth were far\ngreater than those of the actual worker, having none of the drawbacks\nthat consciousness of weakness must necessarily excite. The joy this\ngave his heart may, without exaggeration, he deliberately said to have\nbeen full compensation for the loss of the presence so nobly sacrificed.\nOn January 22 he had written to the Bishop of New Zealand:--\n\n\n'You write most kindly touching him, dear fellow, and truly I am to be\nenvied, qui natum haberem tali ingenio praeditum. Not for a moment have\nI repented of giving my sanction to his going out to New Zealand; and I\nfully believe that God will prosper his work. I did not contemplate his\nbecoming a Bishop, nor is that the circumstance which gives me the great\nsatisfaction I feel. It is his devotion to so good a work, and that he\nshould have been found adequate to its performance; whether as a Bishop\nor as a Priest is not of itself of so much importance.\n\n'Perhaps he may have been consecrated before I am writing this, though I\nam puzzled as to the time....\n\n'May God bless with the fullest success the labours of both of you in\nyour high and Christian works!'\n\n\nThere had for more than a year been cause of anxiety for Sir John's\nhealth, but it was not the disease that had then threatened which\noccasioned the following calm-hearted letter to be written to his son:--\n\n\n'Feniton Court: March 22, 1861.\n\n'My own dearest Coley,--I promised always to tell you the truth\nrespecting myself, and will do so. About a month ago, on my rising from\nreading prayers, the girls and the Dawlish party who were here exclaimed\nthat my voice was broken, at which I laughed. Whitby was in London, but\nhis partner happened to call, and looking at my throat found it relaxed,\nand recommended a mustard poultice on the front. When we came to put it\non, we discovered that the glands of the throat were much swelled and\nin hard knots. Whitby returned in two days, and was much alarmed. He\ndeclared that it was serious, and nothing but iodine could check it.\nI had been unable to take iodine under Watson some years ago, as it\naffected my head tremendously, so he applied it outwardly by painting;\nthis painting did not reduce them, and he strongly pressed my having\nLondon advice, for he said that if not reduced and the swellings\nincreased internally, they would press on the windpipe and choke me: it\nwas somewhat a surgical matter. So on Tuesday the 12th inst. we went\nto London, and I consulted Paget. He entirely agreed with Whitby, and\nthought it very serious, and ordered iodine internally at all hazards. I\ntook it, and by God's mercy it agreed with me. Paget wished to talk over\nthe case with Watson, and they met on the 16th, Saturday. They quite\nagreed, and did not conceal from me that if iodine did not reduce the\nswellings, and they should increase internally, the result must be\nfatal. How soon, or in what particular manner, they could not tell; it\nmight even become cancerous. They did not wish me to stay in town,\nbut thought I was better here, and Paget, knowing Whitby, has perfect\nconfidence in his watching, and will correspond with him, if necessary.\nAt present there is no reduction of the swellings. The iodine has\ncertainly lessened the pains in my limbs, but does not seem, so to\nspeak, to determine to the throat, but it may be there has been hardly\ntime to say that it will not. My own impression is, that it will not,\nand that it is highly improbable that I shall last very long. I mean\nthat I shall not see 1862, nor perhaps the summer or autumn of this\nyear. I cannot tell why, but this near prospect of death has not given\nme any severe shock, as perhaps it ought to have done. It brings more\nthan ever to my mind serious recollection of the sins of my youth, and\nthe shortcomings of my after life in thousands of instances. I have\nnever been a hardened sinner, but years ago, if I did what was sin, it\nsmote me, and I tried to repent; yet there has always been in me a want\nof fervid love to God, and to my blessed Redeemer for His unspeakable\nlove in suffering for my sins; but it has been cold--that may have been\nthe natural constitution of the man, I cannot tell--but I never have\nplaced my hopes of forgiveness and of blessedness hereafter in\nanything but in His merits, and most undeserved goodness in offering me\nsalvation, if I have not thrown it away. But what shall I say? As the\ntime approaches, it may please Him in His mercy to give me a warmer\nheart, and a more vivid perception of all that He has done for me. If I\nwere to say that I am not a sinner, the truth would not be in me; and\nif I am washed in His blood and cleansed, it is not by any efforts or\nmerits of my own, but by His unlimited mercy and goodness. Pray for me,\nthat when the time comes I may not for any fears of death fall from Him.\nYou know that as far as regards this world and its enjoyments, save the\nlove of my dear good children, they have sate but lightly upon me for\nsome time; but it is not because we have nothing that we are unwilling\nto leave, therefore we are prepared for that which is to come. Perhaps\nit may please God to give me still a short time that I may try more\nstrenuously to prepare myself. We shall never meet again in this world.\nOh! may Almighty God in His infinite mercy grant us to meet again in His\nkingdom, through the merits of our blessed Redeemer....\n\n'Oh! my dearest Coley, what comfort I have had in you--what delightful\nconversations we have had together, and how thankful we ought to be to\nour gracious God for allowing it to be so: and still not less thankful\nfor the blessings of being watched and comforted and soothed by the dear\ngirls, and by that dear and good Jem. All so good in their various ways,\nand I so little worthy of them...of Francis. That will indeed, humanly\nspeaking, be a terrible loss to his family, for they want his fatherly\ncare, and will do so for years. Not so with me; and as I am in my\nseventy-second year, it cannot be said that I am cut off prematurely:\nbut on the contrary, fall like a fruit or a sheaf at its proper\nripeness. Oh! that it may be so spiritually indeed.'\n\n\nAnother letter followed the next month:--\n\n\n'Feniton Court: April 24, 1861.\n\n'My own dearest Coley,--How many more letters you may receive from me,\nGod only knows, but, as I think, not many. The iodine fails altogether,\nand has produced no effect on the swellings in my throat; on the\ncontrary, they steadily increase, though not rapidly. Doubtless they\nwill have their own course, and in some way or other deliver my soul\nfrom the burden of the flesh. Oh! may it by God's mercy be the soul of a\nfaithful man! Faith and love I think I have, and have long had: but I\nam not so sure that I have really repented for my past sins, or only\nabandoned them when circumstances had removed almost the temptation\nto commit them. Yet I do trust that my repentance has generally been\nsincere, and though I may have fallen again, that I may by God's grace\nhave risen again. I have no assurance that I have fought the good fight\nlike St. Paul, and that henceforth there is laid up a crown of gold;\nyet I have a full and firm hope that I am not beyond the pale of God's\nmercy, and that I may have hold of the righteousness of Christ, and may\nbe partaker of that happiness which he has purchased for His own, by His\natoning blood. No other hope have I; and in all humility I from my heart\nfeel that any apparent good that I may have done has been His work in me\nand not my own. May it please Him that you and I, my dear son, may\nmeet hereafter, together with all those blessed ones, who have already\ndeparted this life in His faith and fear, in His kingdom above.\n\n'My head aches occasionally, and is not so clear as it used to be....\nThe next mail will bring us more definite news, if indeed I am not\nmyself removed before then.... I am afraid that you discern by what I\nhave written that I am become stupid, and though I could never write\ndecently, yet you will see that continued dull pain in the head, and\nother pains in various parts, have made me altogether heavy and stupid.\nI have had the kindest letters and messages from various quarters when\nit became known, as it is always very soon, that my health was in a\nprecarious state: one particularly from the Bishop of Lichfield (all\ncompanions in Old Court, King's, you know) which is very consoling. He\nsays, If not for such as you, for whom did Christ die? I will not go\non in such strains, for it is of no use. Only do not despair of me, my\nbeloved Son, and believe me always,\n\n'Your loving Father,\n\n'J. PATTESON.'\n\n\n'Feniton Court: May 25, 1861.\n\n'O my own dearest Coley,--Almighty God be thanked that He has preserved\nmy life to hear from you and others of your actual consecration as a\nMissionary Bishop of the Holy Catholic Church: and may He enable you\nby His grace and the powerful assistance of His Spirit to bring to\nHis faith and fear very many who have not known Him, and to keep and\npreserve in it many others who already profess and call themselves\nChristians.\n\n'I was too ill to be present at the whole service on Sunday, but I\nattended the Holy Sacrament, and hope to do so to-morrow. We have with\nus our dear Sarah Selwyn, who came on Thursday: she came in the most\nkind and affectionate spirit, the first visit that she could make, that\nshe might if possible see me: \"I will go and see him before he dies.\"\nWhat delight this has been to me you may easily imagine, and what talk,\nand what anecdotes we have had about you and all your circle; for though\nyour letters have all along let us in wonderfully into your daily life,\nyet there were many things to be filled up, which we have now seen more\nclearly and more perfectly recollect as long as our lives are spared.\n\n'What at present intensely fills our hearts and minds is all that took\nplace on St. Matthias Day, and the day or two before and after. Passages\nand circumstances there were, which it is almost wonderful that you all\ncould respectively bear, some affecting one the more and some the other;\nbut the absorbing feeling that a great work was then done, and the\nardent trust and prayer that it might turn out to the glory of God, and\nthe good of mankind, supported every one, I have no doubt. It was\nabout one of those days that I was first informed of the nature of\nthe complaint which had just been discovered, and which is bringing me\ngradually to the grave.\n\n'Trinity Sunday.--I am just returned from receiving the Holy Sacrament.\nYou will do so the same in a few hours, and they may well be joined\ntogether, and probably the last that you and I shall receive together\nin this world. My time is probably very short. Dear Sarah will hereafter\ntell you more particulars of these few days. Dear Joan and Fanny are\nwatching me continually; it is hard work for them continually and most\nuncertain, but in my mind it cannot be very long. Jem is here helping\nthem continually, but his wife's mother is grievously ill at a\nrelation's in Gloucestershire, and I will not have him withdrawn from\nher. I hope that next week she may be removed to Jem's new cottage, next\nHyde Park, and then they, Joan and Fanny will watch me, and Jem on a\ntelegraph notice may come to me. If I dare express a hope, it is that\nthis state of things may not last long. But I have no desire to express\nany hope at all; the matter is in the hands of a good God, who will\norder all things as is best.... I would write more, but I am under the\nserious impression that I shall be dead before this letter reaches you.\n\n'May our Almighty God, three Persons, blessed for evermore, grant that\nwe may meet hereafter in a blessed eternity!'\n\n\nOne more letter was written:--\n\n\n'Feniton Court, Honiton: June 12, 1861.\n\n'Oh! my dearest Right Reverend well-beloved Son, how I thank God that it\nhas pleased Him to save my life until I heard of the actual fact of your\nbeing ordained and consecrated, as I have said more than once since I\nheard of it. May it please Him to prolong your life very many years, and\nto enable you to fulfil all those purposes for which you have been\nnow consecrated, and that you may see the fruit of your labour of love\nbefore He calls you to His rest in Heaven. But if not, may you have laid\nsuch foundations for the spread of God's Word throughout the countries\ncommitted to your charge, that when it pleases God to summon you hence,\nyou may have a perfect consciousness of having devoted all your time and\nlabour, and so far as you are concerned have advanced all the works as\nfastly and as securely as it seemed fit to your great Assister, the Holy\nSpirit, that they should be advanced. Only conceive that an old Judge of\nseventy-two, cast out of his own work by infirmity, should yet live to\nhave a son in the Holy Office of Bishop, all men rejoicing around\nhim; and so indeed they do rejoice around me, mingling their loving\nexpressions at my illness and approaching death....\n\n'I shall endeavour to write at intervals between this and July mail. It\ntries me to write much at a time.\n\n'Your loving Father,\n\n'J. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe calm of these letters was the pervading spirit of Feniton. With\nperfect cheerfulness did the aged Judge await the summons, aware that he\ncarried the 'sentence of death within himself,' and that the manner\nof his summons would probably be in itself sudden--namely, one of the\nchoking fits that increased in frequency. He lived on with his children\nand relations round him, spending his time in his usual manner, so\nfar as his strength permitted--bright, kind, sunny as ever, and not\nwithdrawing his interest from the cares and pleasures of others, but\nglad to talk more deeply, though still peacefully, of his condition and\nhis hopes. One thing only troubled him. Once he said, and with tears in\nhis eyes, to his beloved brother-in-law, Sir John Coleridge: 'Woe unto\nyou when all men shall speak well of you,' adding to this effect, 'Alas!\nThat this has been my lot without my deserts. It pains me now!'\n\nBut as this popularity had come of no self-seeking nor attempt to win\napplause, it was a grief that was soon dispelled. Perhaps if there\nwas one strong wish, it was to hear of his son's actually having been\nreceived into the order of Bishops, and that gratification was granted\nto him. The letters with the record of consecration arrived in time\nto be his Whitsuntide joy--joy that he still participated in the\ncongregation, for though not able to be at church for the whole service,\nhe still was always present at the celebration of the Holy Communion.\n\nOn the day the letters came there was great peace, and a kind of\nawful joy on all the household. For many weeks past, Sir John had not\nattempted to read family prayers, but on this evening he desired his\ndaughters to let him do so. Where in the prayer for missionaries he\nhad always mentioned, 'the absent member of this family,' he added in a\nclear tone, 'especially for John Coleridge Patteson, Missionary Bishop.'\nThat was the father's one note of triumph, the last time he ever led the\nhousehold prayers. In a day or two Mrs. Selwyn came to him, and he wrote\nthe following to the Bishop of New Zealand:--\n\n\n'Feniton Court: May 24, 1861.\n\n'My very dear Friend,--Here I am, and I have with me your dear and good\nwife, who arrived yesterday. She looks well, and I trust is so. She has\narranged her visits so as to come to me as soon as possible. \"I will go\nand see him before he die,\" and I feel sensibly the kindness of it. What\na mercy is it that my life should have been preserved to receive from\nmy dear son Coley and from you by letter the account of his having been\nconsecrated by you as Bishop of the true Catholic Church. There were\n[accounts?] of that most impressive service, which, had I been present,\nwould have, I fear, sent me to the floor; and you and Coley must have\nhad difficulty in holding up at those feeling statements of your having\nreceived him at my old hands. When you so received him, it was known\nI was satisfied that his heart was really fixed on this missionary\nwork--that he felt a call to it. I believe, you know, and I am sure God\nknows, that I had not the most distant notion in my mind that it would\nlead to his becoming a Bishop, nor do I now rejoice in the result,\nsimply on account of the honour of the office; but because my confidence\nin the honesty and sincerity of his then feelings has been justified,\nand that it has pleased God to endow him with such abundant graces.\nMay it please God that you should continue together in your respective\ngovernments in His Church many years, and that we may all meet together\nin his kingdom above!\n\n'When I parted with him I did not expect to see his face on earth, yet\nperhaps I hardly expected that our separation would be so soon, though\nI am in my seventy-second year. But in February I discovered these\nswellings in my throat; which, humanly speaking, could only be cured by\niodine. Iodine has failed, and other attempts at a cure fail also; and\nit is only a question of time when the soul will be delivered from the\nburthen of the flesh. So indeed it is with all human beings; but it is\none thing to know this as a general proposition, and another to know\nthat the particular minister of death has hold of you, and that you are\nreally only living from day to day.\n\n'For all your many kindnesses to all of us and to my son, I thank you\nfrom the very bottom of my soul, and pray that we may meet hereafter,\nthrough the merits, and for the sake of our blessed Mediator and\nRedeemer Jesus Christ our Lord, that as we have striven on earth to be\nfollowers of Him and His glory, so we may be partakers of it in Heaven.\n\n'Your loving Friend,\n\n'J. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe July mail was without a letter from the father. The end had come\nin the early morning of June 28, 1861, with a briefer, less painful\nstruggle than had been thought probable, and the great, sound, wise,\ntender heart had ceased to beat.\n\nThere is no need to dwell on the spontaneous honours that all of those\nwho had ever been connected with him paid to the good old Judge, when he\nwas laid beside his much-loved wife in Feniton churchyard. Bishop Sumner\nof Winchester, the friend of his boyhood, read the funeral service.\n\n'His works do follow him:' and we turn to that work of his son's in\nwhich assuredly he had his part, since one word of his would have turned\naside the course that had brought such blessing on both, had he not\naccepted the summons, even as Zebedee, when he was left by the lake\nside, while his sons became fishers of men.\n\nUnknowing of the tidings in reserve for him, the Bishop was on his\nvoyage, following the usual course; hearing at Anaiteum that a frightful\nmortality had prevailed in many of these southern islands. Measles had\nbeen imported by a trader, and had, in many cases, brought on dysentery,\nand had swept away a third of Mr. Geddie's Anaiteum flock. Mr. Gordon's\nletters had spoken of it as equally fatal in Erromango, and there were\nreports of the same, as well as of famine and war, in Nengone.\n\n'God will give me men in His time; for could I be cut up into five\npieces already I would be living at Nengone, Lifu, Mai, Mota, and\nBauro!' was the comment on this visit; and this need of men inspired a\nletter to his uncle Edward, on a day dear to the Etonian heart:--\n\n\n'Schooner \"Dunedin,\" 60 tons.\n\n'In sight of Erromango, New Hebrides: June 4, 1861.\n\n'My dear Tutor,--Naturally I think of Eton and of you especially to-day.\nI hope you have as fine a day coming on for the cricket-match and for\nSurley as I have here. Thermometer 81\u00b0; Tanna and Erromango, with\ntheir rugged hilly outlines, breaking the line of the bright sparkling\nhorizon.\n\n'I managed to charter the vessel for the voyage just in time to escape\ncold weather in New Zealand. She is slow, but sound; the captain a\nteetotaller, and crew respectable in all ways. So the voyage, though\nlengthy, is pleasant.\n\n'I have some six or seven classes to take, for they speak as many more\nlanguages; and I get a little time for reading and writing, but not\nmuch.\n\n'I need not tell you how heavily this new responsibility presses on me,\nas I see the islands opening, and at present feel how very difficult it\nmust be to obtain men to occupy this opening--\n\n'True, we have not to contend with subtle and highly-elaborated systems\nof false religion. It is the ignorantia purae negationis, comparatively\nspeaking, in some of the islands; yet, generally, there is a settled\nsystem of some kind observed among them, and in the Banks Islands, an\nextraordinarily developed religion, which enters into every detail of\nsocial and domestic life, and is mixed up with the daily life of every\nperson in the archipelago.\n\n'I think, therefore, that men are needed who have what I may call strong\nreligious common sense to adapt Christianity to the wants of the various\nnations that live in Melanesia, without compromising any truth of\ndoctrine or principle of conduct--men who can see, in the midst of the\nerrors and superstitions of a people, whatever fragment of truth or\nsymptom of a yearning after something better may exist among them, and\nmake that the point d'appui, upon which they may build up the structure\nof Christian teaching. Men, moreover, of industry they must be, for it\nis useless to talk of \"picking up languages.\" Of course, in a few days a\nman may learn to talk superficially and inaccurately on a few subjects;\nbut to teach Christianity, a man must know the language well, and this\nis learnt only by hard work.\n\n'Then, again, unless a man can dispense with what we ordinarily call\ncomfort or luxuries to a great extent, and knock about anywhere in\nMelanesian huts, he can hardly do much work in this Mission. The climate\nis so warm that, to my mind, it quite supplies the place of the houses,\nclothing, and food of old days, yet a man cannot accommodate himself to\nit all at once. I don't say that it came naturally to me five years ago,\nas it does now, when I feel at home anywhere, and cease to think it\nodd to do things which, I suppose, you would think very extraordinary\nindeed.\n\n'But most of all--for this makes all easy--men are wanted who really do\ndesire in their hearts to live for God and the world to come, and who\nhave really sought to sit very loosely to this world. The enjoyment, and\nthe happiness, and the peace all come, and that abundantly; but there is\na condition, and the first rub is a hard one, and lasts a good while.\n\n'Naturally buoyant spirits, the gift of a merry heart, are a great help;\nfor oftentimes a man may have to spend months without any white man\nwithin hundreds of miles, and it is very depressing to live alone in the\nmidst of heathenism. But there must be many many fellows pulling up to\nSurley to-night who may be well able to pull together with one on the\nPacific--young fellows whose enthusiasm is not mere excitement of\nanimal spirits, and whose pluck and courage are given them to stand the\nroughnesses (such as they are) of a missionary life. For, dear Uncle,\nif you ever talk to any old pupil of yours about the work, don't let him\nsuppose that it is consistent with ease and absence of anxiety and work.\nWhen on shore at Kohimarama, we live very cosily, as I think. Some might\nsay we have no society, very simple fare, &c.; I don't think any man\nwould really find it so. But in the islands, I don't wish to conceal\nfrom anyone that, measured by the rule of the English gentleman's\nhousehold, there is a great difference. Why should it, however, be\nmeasured by this standard? I can truly say that we have hitherto always\nhad what is necessary for health, and what does one need more? though I\nlike more as much as anyone.\n\n'How you will wonder at the news of my consecration, and, indeed, well\nyou may! I would, indeed, that there were a dozen men out here under\nwhom I was working, if only they were such men as the Primate would have\nchosen to the work.\n\n'But it is done now, and I know I must not shrink from it. Never did I\nneed the love and prayers of my dear relations and friends as I do now.\nAlready difficulties are rising up around me, and I am so little fit to\nbe a leader of work like this. Don't forget, dear Tutor, your old pupil,\nwho used to copy the dear Bishop's letters in your study from Anaiteum,\nErromango, &c.; and little thought that he would write from these\nislands to you, himself the Missionary Bishop.\n\n'With kind love to all,\n\n'Your loving old Pupil and Nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nThis thoughtful and beautiful letter was written in sight of Erromango,\na sandal-wood station, whence a trader might be found to take charge of\nit. The ink was scarcely dry before the full cost of carrying the Gospel\namong the heathen was brought before the writer. Not only houses and\nbrethren must be given up, but the 'yea and his own life also' was now\nto be exemplified almost before his eyes.\n\nThe Erromaugo Mission, like that of Anaiteum, came from the Scottish\nKirk. Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, as has been seen, had been visited on every\nvoyage of the 'Southern Cross' during their three years' residence\nthere, and there was a warm regard between them and the Bishop. It was\nthen a great shock to hear a Nengone man call out from a sandal-wood\nvessel, lying in Dillon's Bay, that they had both been killed!\n\nIt was but too true. The Erromango people had been little inclined to\nlisten to Mr. Gordon's warnings, and he, a young and eager man, had told\nthem that to persevere in their murders and idolatries would bring a\njudgment upon them. When therefore the scourge of sickness came, as at\nAnaiteum, they connected him with it; and it was plain from his diary\nthat he had for some months known his life to be in danger, but he had\ngone about them fearlessly, like a brave man, doing his best for the\nsick.\n\nOn May 20 he was in a little wood, putting up a house instead of\none that had been blown down by a hurricane, and he had sent his few\nfaithful pupils to get grass for the thatch. Nine natives from a village\nabout three hours' walk distant came to the house where his wife\nwas, and asked for him. She said he was in the little wood. They went\nthither, and while eight hid themselves in the bush, one went forward\nand asked for some calico. Mr. Gordon took a bit of charcoal and wrote\non a bit of wood directions to his wife to give the bearer some cotton,\nbut the man insisted that he must come himself to give out some medicine\nfor a sick man. Mr. Gordon complied, walking in front as far as the\nplace where lay the ambush, when the man struck him with a tomahawk on\nthe spine, and he fell, with a loud scream, while the others leaping out\nfell upon him with blows that must have destroyed life at once, yelling\nand screaming over him. Another went up to the house. Mrs. Gordon had\ncome out, asking what the shouts meant. 'Look there!' he said, and as\nshe turned her head, he struck her between the shoulders, and killed her\nas soon as she had fallen.\n\nAnother native had in the meantime rushed down the hill to the\nsandal-wood station half a mile off on the beach, and the trader, arming\nhis natives, came up too late to do more than prevent the murderers from\ncarrying off the bodies or destroying the house. The husband and wife\nwere buried in the same grave; the natives fenced it round; and now,\non June 7, eighteen days after, Bishop Patteson read the Burial\nService over it, with many solemn and anxious thoughts respecting the\npopulation, now reduced to 2,500, and in a very wild condition.\n\nAt Mai the Bishop spent two hours the next day, and brought away one old\nscholar and one new one.\n\nAt Tariko, where he had been three years before with the Primate, the\nEpiscopal hat brought the greeting 'Bishop,' as the people no doubt\nthought the wearer identical. Of Ambrym there is a characteristic\nsentence: 'As we left the little rock pool where I had jumped ashore,\nleaving, for prudence sake, the rest behind me in the boat, one man\nraised his bow and drew it, then unbent it, then bent it again, but\napparently others were dissuading him from letting fly the arrow. The\nboat was not ten yards off, I don't know why he did so; but we must try\nto effect more frequent landings.'\n\nOn June 12 Mota was reached, and the next morning the Mission party\nlanded, warmly welcomed by the inhabitants. The house was found safely\nstanding and nearly weather-proof.\n\n'June 13th.--This morning I put up the framework for another small\nhouse, where I shall put Wadrokala, his child-wife, and many of our\nboxes. We had to carry up the timber first from the beach, and it was\nrather hot work, as also the carpentering, as I chose a place for the\nhouse where no falling bread-fruit or branches of trees would hurt it,\nand the sun was so hot that it almost burnt my hand when I took up a\nhandful of nails that had been lying for ten minutes in the sun. So our\npicnic life begins again, and that favourably. I feel the enjoyment of\nthe glorious view and climate, and my dear lads, Tagalana and Parenga,\nfrom Bauro, are with me, the rest in Port Patteson, &c., coming over\nin the vessel to-morrow, which I shall then discharge. I see that the\npeople are very friendly; they all speak of your bread-fruit tree, your\nproperty. The house had not been entered, a keg of nails inside it not\ntouched.\n\n'Tagalana's father is dead. His first words to me were, \"Oh that the\nWord of God had come in old times to Mota, I should not then cry so much\nabout him. Yes, it is true, I know, I must be thankful it is come now,\nand I must remember that, and try to help others who may die too before\nthey believe it.\"\n\n'\"Yes, I am quite your child now! Yes, one Father for us all in Heaven.\nYou my father here! Yes, I stop always with you, unless you send me\naway. They ask me with whom I shall live now; I say with the Bishop.\"\n\n'How I was praising and rejoicing in my heart as the dear boy was\nspeaking: \"Yes, I am feeling calm again now. When people die at Mota,\nyou know they make a great shouting, but soon forget the dead person.\nBut I am able to be quiet and calm now, as you talk to me about God and\nJesus Christ. Yes, He rose again. Death is not the end. I know you said\nit is for those who repent and believe in Christ the Door to enter into\nlife eternal. How different it all seems then!\"\n\n'When you read this you will say, \"Thank God that I sent him out to\nMelanesia with my blessing on his head. I too may see Tagalana one day\nwith Him who is the Father of us all.\"\n\n'One soul won to Christ, as I hope and believe, by His love and power,\nand if in any degree by my ministry, to God be the praise!'\n\nThe comfort sent home to the sisters with the letter respecting this\nvoyage is:--\n\n\n'Mota: June 14, 1861.\n\n'Now, dear Joan, don't any of you think too much about the murder of Mr.\nand Mrs. Gordon, as if my life was exposed to the same kind of risk.\n\n'Certainly it is not endangered here. It may be true that at places\nwhere I am not known some sudden outbreak may occur; but humanly\nspeaking, there are not many places that as yet I am able to visit where\nI realise the fact of any danger being run.\n\n'Yet it may happen that some poor fellow, who has a good cause to think\nill of white men, or some mischievous badly disposed man, may let fly a\nrandom arrow or spear some day.\n\n'If so, you will not so very much wonder, nor be so very greatly\ngrieved. Every clergyman runs at least as great a risk among the\nsmall-pox and fevers of town parishes. Think of Uncle James in the\ncholera at Thorverton.'\n\nSo with the 'Dunedin' dismissed, Bishop Patteson, Mr. Pritt, Mr.\nKerr, and their pupils recommenced their residence at Mota. The Banks\nIslanders returned to their homes; and when the Bishop came to Aroa,\nTagalana's native place, three weeks lately the little fellow received\nhim affectionately, cooked yams, fetched mats, and was not ashamed\nbefore his own people to kneel down, and join audibly in hymn and\nprayer. The people begged for Wadrokala or some other teacher to be\nplaced among them. The Journal continues:--\n\n'On Friday, at 8.30, I started, not quite knowing whither I should go,\nbut soon saw that I could fetch round the south end of Vanua Lava, which\nwas well. The sea, when it comes through the passage between Mota and\nValua, is heavy, but the boat had great way on her, sailing very fast,\nso that I could steer her well, and we did not take very long crossing\nto the small reef islands. I passed between Pakea and Vanua Lava (Dudley\nPassage), and then we had unexpectedly a very heavy sea, a strong tide\nup. I did not like it, but, thank God, all went well. One very heavy sea\nin particular I noticed, which broke some twenty yards ahead, and about\nthe same distance astern of us, while the exact part of it which came\ndown upon us was only a black wall of water, over which we rode lightly\nand dry. I think that it might have swamped us had it broken upon the\nboat. My boat is an open four-oared one, 26 feet long, and about five\nwide, strong but light. She sails admirably with a common lug sail.\nI had one made last summer, very large, with two reefs, so that I can\nreduce it to as small a sail as I please. By 4 or 5 P.M. I neared Aruas,\nin the bay on the west side of Vanua Lava; the same crowd as usual on\nthe beach, but I did not haul the boat up. I had a grapnel, and dropped\nit some fifty yards from the beach.\n\n'Somehow I did not much like the manner of some of the people; they did\nnot at night come into the Ogamal, or men's common eating and sleeping\nhouse, as before, and I overheard some few remarks which I did not quite\nlike--something about the unusual sickness being connected with this\nnew teaching--I could not be quite sure, as I do not know the dialect\nof Aruas. There were, however, several who were very friendly, and the\ngreat majority were at least quiet, and left us to ourselves. The\nnext morning I started at about eight, buying two small pigs for two\nhatchets, and yams and taro and dried bread-fruit for fish-hooks. I\ngave one young man a piece of iron for his attention to us. As we pulled\naway, one elderly man drew his bow, and the women and children ran off\ninto the bush, here, as everywhere almost in these islands, growing\nquite thickly some twenty yards above high-water mark. The man did\nnot let fly his arrow: I cannot tell why this small demonstration took\nplace.'\n\nWhen an arrow was pointed at him, it was Bishop Patteson's custom to\nlook the archer full in the face with his bright smile, and in many\nmore cases than are here hinted at, that look of cheery confidence and\ngood-will made the weapon drop.\n\nAfter a few more visits to the coasts of this archipelago the boat\nreturned to Mota, where Mr. Pritt and Mr. Kerr had kept school every\nday, besides getting the station into excellent order and beauty. Their\npresence at the head-quarters left the Bishop free to circulate in the\nvillages, sleeping in the Ogamals, where he could collect the men. They\nalways seemed pleased and interested, and their pugnacious habits\nwere decidedly diminishing, though their superstitious practices and\nobservances were by no means dropped.\n\nThe Diary, on July 24, thus speaks of the way of life; which, however,\nwas again telling on the health of the party:--\n\n'I am so accustomed to sleeping about anywhere that I take little or no\naccount of thirty, forty, fifty naked fellows, lying, sitting, sleeping\nround me. Someone brings me a native mat, someone else a bit of yam; a\nthird brings a cocoa-nut; so I get my supper, put down the mat (like a\nvery thin door-mat) on the earth, roll up my coat for a pillow, and make\na very good night of it. I have had deafness in my right ear again for\nsome days; no pain with it, but it is inconvenient.\n\n'Several of our lads have had attacks of fever and ague; Wadrokala and\nhis child of a wife, Bum, a Bauro boy, &c. The island is not at all\nunhealthy, but natives cannot be taught caution. I, thank God, am in\nrobust health, very weather-beaten. I think my Bishop's dress would look\nquite out of keeping with such a face and pair of hands!\n\n'There is much as usual in such cases to encourage and to humble us.\nSome few people seem to be in earnest. The great majority do their best\nto make me think they are listening. Meanwhile, much goes on in the\nisland as of old.\n\n'Sunday, July 28th, 11.45 A.M.--I have much anxiety just now. At this\nmoment Wadrokala is in an ague fit, five or six others of my party kept\ngoing by quinine and port wine, and one or other sickening almost daily.\nHenry Hrahuena, of Lifu, I think dying, from what I know not--I think\ninflammation of the brain, induced possibly by exposure to the sun,\nthough I have not seen him so exposed, and it is a thing I am very\ncareful about with them. I do what I can in following the directions of\nmedical books, but it is so hard to get a word from a native to explain\nsymptoms, &c.; besides, my ear is now, like last year, really painful;\nand for two nights I have had little sleep, and feel stupid, and getting\na worn-out feeling. With all this, I am conscious that it is but a\ntemporary depression, a day or two may bring out the bright colours\nagain. Henry may recover by God's mercy, the boys become hearty again;\nmy ear get right. At present I feel that I must rub on as I can, from\nhour to hour.\n\n'If I find from experience that natives of Melanesia, taken to a\ndifferent island, however fertile, dry, and apparently healthy, do seem\nto be affected by it, I must modify my plans, try as soon as possible\nto have more winter schools, and, what is of more consequence, I must\nreconsider the whole question of native teachers. If a great amount\nof sickness is to be the result of gathering scholars around me at an\nisland, I could do, perhaps, more single-handed, in health, and with\nno one to look after, than with twenty fellows of whom half are causing\ncontinual anxiety on the score of health. Now were I alone, I should\nbe as brisk as a bee, but I feel weighed down somewhat with the anxiety\nabout all these fellows about me.\n\n'I must balance considerations, and think it out. It requires great\nattention. It is at times like these that I experience some trials.\nUsually my life is, as you know, singularly free from them.\n\n'July 31st.--Henry died on Sunday about 4 A.M. Wadrokala is better.\nThe boys are all better. I have had much real pain and weariness from\nsleepless nights, owing to the small tumour in my ear. What a sheet of\npaper for you to read! And yet it is not so sad either. The boys were\npatient and good; Wadrokala takes his ague attacks like a man; and about\nHenry I had great comfort.\n\n'He was about eighteen or nineteen, as I suppose, the son of the great\nenchanter in Lifu in old times--the hereditary high priest of Lifu\nindeed. He was a simple-minded, gentle, good fellow, not one probably\nwho would have been able to take a distinct line as a teacher, yet\nhe might have done good service with a good teacher. We found that\nafternoon a slate on which he had written down some thoughts when first\ntaken ill, showing that he felt that he was sick unto death. Very full\nof comfort were his written as well as his spoken words.'\n\nOn August 1, while the Bauro scholars were writing answers to questions\non the Lord's Prayer, a party of men and women arrived, headed by a\nman with a native scarf over his shoulders. They had come to be taught,\nbringing provisions with them, and eating them, men and women together,\na memorable infringement of one of the most unvarying customs of the\nBanks inhabitants; and from the conversation with them and with others,\nBishop Patteson found that the work of breaking down had been attained,\nthat of building up had to be begun. They must learn that leaving off\nheathen practices was not the same thing as adopting the religion of\nChrist, and the kind of work which external influences had cut short in\nLifu had to be begun with them.\n\n'Soon, I think, the great difficulty must be met in Mota of teaching the\nChristian's social and domestic life to people disposed to give up\nmuch of their old practices. This is the point at which I suppose most\nMissions have broken down. It is a great blessing indeed to reach it,\nbut the building up of converts is the harder work. Here, for example,\na population of 1,500 people; at present they know all that is necessary\nfor the cultivation of yams, &c., they build houses sufficient for the\npurpose of their present life, they are giving up fighting, losing-faith\nin their old charms and contrivances for compassing the death of their\nenemies; they will very likely soon be at peace throughout the whole\nisland. Well, then, they will be very idle, talk infinite scandal,\nindulge in any amount of gluttony; professing to believe our religion,\ntheir whole life will contradict that profession, unless their whole\nsocial and domestic life be changed, and a new character infused into\nthem. It would be a great mistake to suppose that the English aspect\nof the Christian's social life is necessarily adapted to such races\nas these. The Oriental tendencies of their minds, the wholly different\ncircumstances of their lives, climate, absence of all poverty or\ndependence upon others, &c., will prevent them from ever becoming a\nlittle English community; but not, I trust, their becoming a Christian\ncommunity. But how shall I try to teach them to become industrious,\npersevering, honest, tidy, clean, careful with children, and all the\nrest of it? What a different thing from just going about and teaching\nthem the first principles of Christianity! The second stage of a Mission\nis the really difficult one.'\n\nA few days after the foregoing observations were written, H.M.S.\n'Cordelia,' a war steamer, entered Port Patteson, and Captain Hume\nhimself came across by boat to Mota, to communicate to Bishop Patteson\nhis instructions to offer him a cruise in the vessel, render him any\nassistance in his power in the Solomon Islands, and return him to\nany island he might desire. Letters from the Primate assumed that the\nproposal should be accepted; it was an opportunity of taking home the\nBauro and Grera boys; moreover there was a quarrel between English and\nnatives to be enquired into at Ysabel Island, where the Bishop could be\nuseful as interpreter; and, as he could leave his two friends to carry\non the school at Mota, he went on board, and very good it was for him,\nin the depressed state of health brought on by rude bed and board, to be\nthe guest on board a Queen's ship and under good medical care.\n\nFor the 'Cordelia' had brought out the letters which gave the first\nintimation of his father's state; and without the privacy, and freedom\nfrom toil and responsibility, he could hardly have borne up under the\nblow. The first day was bad enough: 'a long busy day on shore with just\none letter read, and the dull heavy sensation of an agony that was to\ncome, as soon as I could be alone to think.' Arrangements had to be\nmade; and there was not one solitary moment till 9 P.M. in the cabin\nwhen this loving and beloved son could shut himself in, kneel down, and\nrecover composure to open the two letters in his father's hand.\n\nHe wrote it all--his whole heart--as of old to the father who had ever\nshared his inmost thoughts:--\n\n'It may be that as I write, your blessed spirit, at rest in Paradise,\nmay know me more truly than ever you did on earth; and yet the sorrow\nof knowing how bitter it is within may never be permitted to ruffle your\neverlasting peace.\n\n'I may never see you on earth. All thought of such a joy is gone. I\ndid really cling to it (I see it now) when most I thought I was quite\ncontent to wait for the hope of the great meeting. I will try to\nremember and to do what you say about all business matters.\n\n'I will pray God to make me more desirous and more able to follow the\nholy example you leave behind. Oh that the peace of God may be given to\nme also when I come to die; though how may I dare to hope for such an\nend, so full of faith and love and the patient waiting for Christ!\n\n'I must go on with my work. This very morning I was anxious, passing\nshoal water with the captain and master beside me, and appealing to me\nas pilot. I must try to be of some use in the ship. I must try to turn\nto good account among the islands this great opportunity. Probably\nelasticity of mind will come again now for very pain of body. Oh! how\nmuch more sorrow and heavy weight on my heart! I am quite worn out and\nweary. It seems as if the light were taken from me, as if it was no\nlonger possible to work away so cheerily when I no longer have you to\nwrite to about it all, no longer your approval to seek, your notice to\nobtain.\n\n'I must go on writing to you, my own dearest Father, even as I go on\npraying for you. It is a great comfort to me, though I feel that in all\nhuman probability you are to be thought of now as one of the blessed\ndrawn wholly within the veil. Oh! that we may all dwell together\nhereafter for His blessed sake who died for us. Now more than ever your\nloving and dutiful Son,' &c.\n\nSuch another letter was written to his sister Fanny; but it is dated\nfour days later, when he was better in health, and was somewhat\nrecovered from the first shock; besides which, he felt his office of\ncomforter when writing to her. So the letter is more cheerful, and is\na good deal taken up with the endeavour to assure the sisters of\nhis acquiescence in whatever scheme of life they might adopt, and\nwillingness that, if it were thought advisable, Feniton Court should\nbe sold. 'This is all cold and heartless,' he says, 'but I must try and\nmake my view pretty clear.' Towards the end occurs the following:--\n\n'Last night, my slight feverish attack over, my ears comfortable, with\nthe feeling of health and ease returning, I lay awake, thought of dear\nUncle Frank, and then for a long time of dear Mamma. How plainly I saw\nher face, and dear dear Uncle James, and I wondered whether dear dear\nFather was already among them in Paradise. It is not often that I can\nfasten down my mind to think continuously upon those blessed ones; I am\ntoo tired, or too busy; and this climate, you know, is enervating.\nBut last night I was very happy, and seemed to be very near them. The\nEvening Lesson set me off, 1 John iii. How wonderful it is! But all the\nevening I had been reading my book of Prayers and Meditations. Do\nyou know, Fan, at times the thought comes upon me with a force almost\noverpowering, that I am a Bishop; and that I must not shrink from\nbelieving that I am called to a special work. I don't think that I dwell\nmorbidly on this, but it is an awful thought. And then I feel just\nthe same as of old, and don't reach out more, or aim more earnestly at\namendment of life and strive after fresh degrees of enlightenment and\nholiness. But probably I have to learn the lesson, which it may be only\nsickness will teach me, of patient waiting, that God will accomplish His\nown work in His own time.'\n\nSome of this is almost too sacred for publication, and yet it is well\nthat it should be seen how realising the Communion of Saints blessed\nthe solitary man who had given up home. The next letter is to Sir J. T.\nColeridge:--\n\n\n'H.M.S. \"Cordelia,\" September 11, 1861.\n\n'My dearest Uncle,--It is now nearly five weeks since I learnt from\nmy letters of March and April, brought to me by this ship, the very\nprecarious state of my dear Father.\n\n'He has never missed a mail since we have been parted, never once; and\nhe wrote as he always did both in March and April. I had read a letter\nfrom the good Primate first; because I had to make up my mind whether I\ncould, as I was desired, take a cruise in this vessel; and in his letter\nI heard of my dear Father's state. With what reverence I opened his\nletters! With what short earnest prayers to God that I might have\nstrength supplied and resignation I had kept them till the last. All day\nat Mota I had been too busy to read any but the Primate's letters. I\nhad many matters to arrange...and it was not until night that I could\nquietly read my letters in the captain's cabin. My dear Father's words\nseem to come to me like a voice from another world. I think from what\nhe says, and what they all say, that already he has departed to be with\nChrist.\n\n'I think of him and my dear mother, and those dear uncles James and\nFrank, so specially dear to me, and others gone before. I think of all\nthat he has been to me, and yet how can I be unhappy? The great shock to\nme was long overpast: it is easy for me to dwell on his gain rather\nthan my loss; yet how I shall miss his wise loving letters and all the\nunrestrained delights of our correspondence.\n\n'It is not with me as with those dear sisters, or with old Jem. Theirs\nis the privilege of witnessing the beauty and holiness of his life to\nthe end; and theirs the sorrow of learning to live without him. Yet\nI feel that the greatest perhaps of all the pleasures of this life is\ngone. How I did delight in writing to him and seeking his approval\nof what I was about! How I read and re-read his letters, entering so\nentirely into my feelings, understanding me so well in my life, so\nstrangely different from what it used to be.\n\n'Well, it should make me feel more than ever that I have but one thing\nto live for--the good, if so it may please God, of these Melanesian\nislands.\n\n'I cannot say, for you will like to know my feelings, that I felt\nso overwhelmed with this news as not to be able to go about my usual\nbusiness. Yet the rest on board the vessel has been very grateful to me.\nThe quiet cheerfulness and briskness will all come again, as I think;\nand yet I think too that I shall be an older and more thoughtful man by\nreason of this.\n\n'There has been reported a row at Ysabel Island, one of the Solomon\ngroup, eighteen months ago. This vessel, a screw steamer, ten guns and a\nlarge pivot gun, came to enquire, with orders from the Commodore of the\nstation to call at Mota and see me, and request me to go with the vessel\nif I could find time to do so; adding that the vessel was to take me to\nany island which I might wish to be returned to. Now I have long wished\nto indoctrinate captains of men-of-war with our notions of the right\nway to settle disputes between natives and traders. Secondly, I had a\npassage free with my Solomon Islanders, and consequently all October and\nhalf November I may devote to working up carefully (D.V.) the Banks and\nNew Hebrides group without being under the necessity of going down to\nthe Solomon Islands. Thirdly, I had an opportunity of going further\nto the westward than I had ever been before, and of seeing new ground.\nFourthly, the Primate, I found, assumed that I should go. So here I\nam, in great clover, of course: the change from Mota to man-of-war life\nbeing amusing enough. Barring some illness, slight attacks of fever, I\nhave enjoyed myself very much. The seeing Ysabel Island is a real gain.\nI had time to acquire some 200 words and phrases of the language, which\nsignify to me a great deal more. The language is a very remarkable one,\nvery Polynesian; yet in some respects distinguished from the Polynesian,\nand most closely related to Melanesian dialects.\n\n'I need not enter into all this. It is my business, you know, to work\nat such things, and a word or two often tells me now a good deal of the\nsecrets of a language--the prominent forms, affixes, &c., &c.; the way\nin which it is linked on to other dialects by peculiar terminations, the\nlaw by which the transposition of vowels and consonants is governed in\ngeneral. All these things soon come out, so I am very sanguine\nabout soon, if I live, seeing my way in preparing the way for future\nmissionaries in the far West.\n\n'But I must not forget that I have some islands to visit in the next\nmonth or two where the people are very wild, so that I of all people\nhave least reason to speculate about what I may hope to do a year hence.\n\n'The real anxiety is in the making up my own mind whether or not I ought\nto lower the boat in such a sea way; whether or not I ought to swim\nashore among these fellows crowded there on the narrow beach, &c.\n\n'When my mind is made up, it is not so difficult then. But, humanly\nspeaking, there are but few islands now where I realise the fact of\nthere being any risk; at very many I land with confidence. Yet I could\nenumerate, I dare say, five-and-twenty which we have not visited at\nall, or not regularly; and where I must be careful, as also in visiting\ndifferent parts of islands already known to us in part. Poor poor\npeople, who can see them and not desire to make known to them the words\nof life? I may never forget the Bishop's words in the Consecration\nService:--\"Your office is in the highest sense to preach the Gospel to\nthe poor;\" and then his eye glanced over the row of Melanesians sitting\nnear me.\n\n'How strange that I can write all this, when one heavy sense of trouble\nis hanging vaguely over me. And yet you will be thankful that I can\nthink, as I trust, heartily of my work, and that my interest is in no\nway lessened. It ought to be increased. Yet I scarce realise the fact of\nbeing a Bishop, though again it does not seem unnatural. I can't explain\nwhat I mean. I suppose the fact that I knew for so long before that it\nmust come some day if I lived, makes the difference now.\n\n'I don't think, however, that your words will come true of my appearing\nin shovel hat, &c., at Heath's Court some fine day. It is very\nimprobable that I shall ever see the northern hemisphere, unless I see\nit in the longitude of New Guinea.\n\n'I must try to send a few island shells to M----, B----, and Co.; those\nlittle ones must not grow up, and I am sure that you all do not suffer\nthem to grow up, without knowing something about \"old cousin Coley\"\ntumbling about in a little ship (albeit at present in a war steamer) at\nthe other end of the world. Seriously, dear Uncle, as they grow older,\nit may be some help for them to hear of these poor Melanesians, and of\nour personal intercourse with them, so to speak.\n\n'I have but little hope of hearing, if I return safe to New Zealand at\nthe end of November, that this disastrous war is over. I fear that\nthe original error has been overlaid by more recent events, forgotten\namongst them. The Maori must suffer, the country must suffer. Confession\nof a fault in an individual is wrong in a State; indeed, the rights of\nthe case are, and perhaps must be, unknown to people at a distance. We\nhave no difficulty here in exposing the fallacies and duplicities of the\nauthors of the war, but we can't expect (and I see that it must be so)\npeople in England to understand the many details. To begin with, a man\nmust know, and that well, Maori customs, their national feeling, &c. It\nis all known to One above, and that is our only hope now. May He grant\nus peace and wisdom for the time to come!\n\n'I have been reading Helps again this voyage, a worthy book, and\nspecially interesting to me. How much there is I shall be glad to read\nabout. What an age it is! America, how is that to end? India, China,\nJapan, Africa! I have Jowett's books and \"Essays and Reviews.\" How much\nI should like to talk with you and John, in an evening at Heath's Court,\nabout all that such books reveal of Intellectualism at home. One does\nfeel that there is conventionalism and unreality in the hereditary\npassive acceptance of much that people think they believe. But how on\nJowett's system can we have positive teaching at all? Can the thing\ndenoted by \"entering into the mind of Christ or St. Paul\" be substituted\nfor teaching the Catechism?\n\n'Not so, writes my dear Father in the depth of his humility and\nsimplicity, writing to me what a father could scarcely say to a son!\nBut our peculiar circumstances have brought this blessing to me, that I\nthink he has often so \"reamed out\" his heart to me in the warmth of his\nlove to a son he was never again to see in the body, that I know him\nbetter even than I should have done had I remained at home.\n\n'So wonderful was my dearest Father's calmness when he wrote on the 24th\nof April, that if he was alive to write again in May, I think it not\nimpossible that he may allude to these matters. If so, what golden words\nto be treasured up by me! I have all his letters. You will see, or have\nseen him laid by my dear Mother's side. They dwell together now with Him\nin Paradise.\n\n'Good-bye, my dearest Uncle. Should God spare your life, my letters will\nbe more frequent to you now.\n\n'My kindest love to Aunt.\n\n'Your affectionate and grateful Nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nThere is little more record of this voyage. There was less heart and\nspirit than usual for the regular journalizing letter; but the five\nweeks' voyage had been most beneficial in restoring health and energy,\nand it had one very important effect upon the Mission, for it was here\nthat Lieutenant Capel Tilly, R.N., became so interested in the Mission\nand its head, as to undertake the charge of the future 'Southern Cross.'\nThe 'Cordelia' was about to return to England, where, after she was\npaid off, Mr. Tilly would watch over the building of the new vessel on a\nslightly larger scale than the first, would bring her out to Kohimarama,\nand act as her captain.\n\nSo great a boon as his assistance did much to cheer and encourage the\nBishop, who was quite well again when he landed at Mota on September 17,\nand found Mr. Pritt convalescent after a touch of ague, and Mr. Kerr so\nill as to be glad to avail himself of Captain Hume's kind offer to take\nhim back to Auckland in the 'Cordelia.'\n\nProbably all were acclimatised by this time, for we hear of no more\nillness before the 'Sea Breeze,' with Mr. Dudley, came, on the 10th of\nOctober, to take the party off.\n\nHe says:--'The Bishop and Mr. Pritt both looked pale and worn. There\nwere, however, signs in the island of a great advance in the state of\nthings of the previous year. An admirable schoolroom had been built;\nand in the open space cleared in front of it, every evening some hundred\npeople would gather, the older ones chatting, the younger ones being\ninitiated in the mysteries of leap-frog, wrestling, and other English\ngames, until prayer time, when all stood in a circle, singing a Mota\nhymn, and the Bishop prayed with and for them.\n\n'That voyage was not a long one. We did not go to the Solomon Islands\nand the groups to the north, but we worked back through the New\nHebrides, carefully visiting them.'\n\nMr. Dudley had brought letters that filled the Bishop's heart to\noverflowing, and still it was to his father that he wrote: 'It seems\nas if you had lived to see us all, as it were, fixed in our several\npositions, and could now \"depart in peace, according to His word.\"'\n\nThe agony and bitterness seem to have been met and struggled through,\nas it were, in those first days on board the 'Cordelia.' In this second\nletter there is infinite peace and thankfulness; and so there still was,\nwhen, at Norfolk Island, the tidings of the good old man's death met\nhim, as described in the ensuing letter:--\n\n\n'\"Sea Breeze,\" one hundred miles south-east of Norfolk Island: 8 A.M.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--Joy and grief were strangely mingled together\nwhile I was on shore in Norfolk Island, from 6 P.M. Saturday to 8 P.M.\nSunday (yesterday).\n\n'I was sitting with Mr. Nobbs (Benjamin Dudley the only other person\npresent) when he said, \"We have seen in our papers from Sydney the news\nof the death of your revered Father.\" He concluded that I must have\nknown of it.\n\n'How wonderful it seems to me that it did not come as a great shock. I\nshowed by my face (naturally) that I had not known before that God had\ntaken him unto Himself, but I could answer quite calmly, \"I thank God.\nDo not be distressed at telling me suddenly, as you see you have done\ninadvertently. I knew he could not live long. We all knew that he was\nonly waiting for Christ.\"\n\n'And, dear dear John and Fan, how merciful God has been! The last part\nof his letter to me, of date June 25, only three days before his\ncall came, so that I know (and praise God for it) that he was spared\nprotracted suffering. Shall I desire or wish to be more sorry than I am?\nShall I try to make myself grieve, and feel unhappy? Oh, no; it is of\nGod's great mercy that I still feel happy and thankful, for I cannot\ndoubt the depth of my love to him who has indeed been, and that more\nthan ever of late, the one to whom I clung in the world.\n\n'I could be quiet at night, sleeping in Mr. Nobbs's house, and yet I\ncould not at once compose myself to think it all over, as I desired to\ndo. And then I had much to do, and here was the joy mingling with the\nsorrow.\n\n'For the Norfolk Island people have come to see how wise was the\nPrimate's original plan, and now they much desire to connect themselves\nmore closely with the Mission.\n\n'Mr. and Mrs. Nobbs desire their son Edwin, who was two years at the\nGovernor's at Sydney, and is now eighteen and a half years old, to be\ngiven wholly to us.... So said Simon Young of his boy Fisher, and so did\nthree others. All spoke simply, and without excitement, but with deep\nfeeling. I thought it right to say that they should remain at Norfolk\nIsland at present, that we all might prove them whether they were indeed\nbent upon this work, that we might be able to trust that God had indeed\ncalled them. To the lads I said, \"This is a disappointment, I know, but\nit is good for you to have to bear trials. You must take time to count\nthe cost. It is no light thing to be called to the work of a teacher\namong the heathen. In giving up your present wish to go immediately,\nyou are obeying your parents and others older than yourselves, and your\ncheerful obedience to them is the best evidence that you wish to act\nupon a sense of duty, and not only from impulse; but don't think I wish\nto discourage you. I thank Him who has put the good desire into your\nhearts. Prove yourselves now by special prayer and meditation.\"\n\n'Then came the happy, blessed service, the whole population present,\nevery confirmed person communicating, my voice trembling at the Fifth\nCommandment and the end of the Prayer for the Church Militant, my heart\nvery full and thankful. I preached to them extempore, as one can preach\nto no other congregation, from the lesson, \"JESUS gone to be the guest\nof a man that is a sinner,\" the consequences that would result in us\nfrom His vouchsafing to tabernacle among us, and, as displayed in the\nParable of the Pounds, the use of God's gifts of health, influence,\nmeans; then, specifying the use of God's highest gifts of children to be\ntrained to His glory, quoting 1 Samuel i. 27, 28, \"lent to the Lord,\" I\nspoke with an earnestness that felt strange to me at the time.\n\n'Simon Young said afterwards: \"My wife could not consent months ago\nto Fisher's going away, but she has told me now that she consents. She\ncan't withhold him with the thought of holy Hannah in her mind.\" And I\nfelt as if I might apply (though not in the first sense) the prophecy\n\"Instead of thy fathers, thou shalt have children.\"\n\n'To add to all, Mr. Nobbs said: \"I have quite altered my mind about the\nMelanesian school, I quite see that I was mistaken;\" and the people are\nconsidering how to connect themselves closely with us.\n\n'You may imagine, dear Joan, that joy and grief made a strange, yet not\nunhappy tumult in my mind. I came away at 3 P.M. (the wind being very\nfair) hoping to revisit them, and, by the Bishop of Tasmania's desire,\nhold a confirmation in six months' time. How I am longing to hear the\nlast record of the three days intervening between June 25 and 28, you\nmay well imagine.... Already, thank God, four months have passed, and\nyou are recovering from the great shock. Yours is a far harder trial\nthan mine. May God comfort and bless us all, and bring us to dwell with\nour dear parents in heaven, for our blessed Lord's sake.\n\n'Your very loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nAnd this most touching account from within is supplemented by the\nfollowing, by Mr. Dudley, from without:--\n\n\n'He took it [the tidings of his father's death] quite calmly. Evidently\nit had been long expected and prepared for. He was even cheerful in his\nquiet grave way. In the evening there was singing got up for him by some\nof the Norfolk Islanders, in one of the large rooms of the old barracks.\nHe enjoyed it; and after it had gone on some time, he thanked them in a\nfew touching words that went home, I am sure, to the hearts of many of\nthem, and then we all knelt down, and he prayed extempore. I wish I had\nkept the words of that prayer! Everyone was affected, knowing what was\nthen occupying his mind, but we were still more so next morning, at\nthe service in church. His voice had that peculiarly low and sweet tone\nwhich always came into it when he was in great anxiety or sorrow, but\nhis appeal to the congregation was inspiring to the last degree. It was\nthe Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity, and the subject he took was from\nthe second lesson, the Parable of the Pounds, in St. Luke xix., and so\npointed out the difficulties between the reception of a talent and the\nuse of it. He showed that the fact of people's children growing up\nas wild and careless as heathen was no proof that no grace had been\nbestowed upon them; on the contrary, in the baptized it was there, but\nit had never been developed; and then came the emphatic assertion,\n\"The best way of employing our gifts of whatever kind--children, means,\nposition--is by lending them to the Lord for His service, and then a\ndouble blessing will be returned for that we give. Hannah giving her\nchild to the Lord, did she repent of it afterwards, think you, when she\nsaw him serving the Lord, the one upright man of the house of Israel?\"'\n\nNo doubt these words were founded on those heartfelt assurances which\nstirred his very soul within him that his own father had never for\na moment regretted or mourned over the gift unto the Lord, which had\nindeed been costly, but had been returned, 'good measure, pressed\ntogether, and flowing over,' in blessing! can I grieve and sorrow about\nmy dear dear Father's blessed end?' are the words in a letter to myself\nwritten on the 19th. It further contained thanks for a photograph of\nHursley Church spire and Vicarage, which had been taken one summer\nafternoon, at the desire of Dr. Moberly (the present Bishop of\nSalisbury), and of which I had begged a copy for him. 'I shall like the\nphotograph of Hursley Vicarage and Church, the lawn and group upon\nit. But most shall I like to think that Mr. Keble, and I dare say Dr.\nMoberly too, pray for me and this Mission. I need the prayers of\nall good people indeed.' I quote this sentence because it led to a\ncorrespondence with both Mr. Keble and Dr. Moberly, which was equally\nprized by the holy and humble men of heart who wrote and received the\nletters:--\n\n\n'St. Andrew's, Kohimarama: November 20, 1861.\n\n'Thank you, my dearest Sophy, for your loving letters, and all your love\nand devotion to him.\n\n'I fear I do not write to those two dear sisters of mine as they and you\nall expect and wish. I long to pour it all out; I get great relief in\ntalking, as at Taurarua I can talk to the dear Judge and Lady Martin.\nShe met me with a warm loving kiss that was intended to be as home-like\nas possible, and for a minute I could not speak, and then said\nfalteringly, \"It has been all one great mercy to the end. I have heard\nat Norfolk Island.\" But I feel it still pent up to a great extent, and\nyet I have a great sense of relief. I fancy I almost hear sometimes\nthe laboured breathing, the sudden stop--the \"thanks be to God, he has\nentered into his rest.\"\n\n'What his letters are, I cannot even fully say to another, perhaps never\nfully realise myself.\n\n'As I write, the tears come, for it needs but a little to bring them\nnow, though I suppose the world without thinks that I \"bear up,\" and go\non bravely.\n\n'But when any little word or thought touches the feelings, the sensitive\nrather than the intellectual part of me, then I break down.\n\n'And yet it seems to bring thoughts and hopes into more definite shape.\nHow I read that magnificent last chapter of Isaiah last Sunday. I seemed\nto feel my whole heart glowing with wonder, and exultation, and praise.\nThe world invisible may well be a reality to us, whose dear ones there\noutnumber now those still in the flesh. Jem's most beautiful, most\nintensely affecting letter, with all his thoughtfulness about the grave,\n&c., fairly upset me. I let the Judge and Lady Martin read some parts of\nit, and they returned it, saying it had quite overcome them. Now all\nday I feel really as much as at those moments, only the special\ncircumstances give more expression at one time than at another to the\ninward state of mind.\n\n'How I treasure up many many of his words and actions!\n\n'What a history in these words: \"All times of the day are alike to me\nnow; getting near, I trust, the time when it will be all day.\"\n\n'Those are the things that break me down. I see his dear face, and hear\nhim slowly and calmly saying such words of patient trust and faith, and\nit is too much. Oh! that I might live as the son of such parents ought\nto live!\n\n'And then I turn to the practical duties again, and get lost in the\nunceasing languages and all the rest of it.\n\n'Now enough--but I write what comes uppermost.\n\n'Your loving Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nVery soon after the return, on the 6th December, 1861, an Ordination\nwas held at St. Paul's, Auckland, when the Primate ordained two Maori\ndeacons, and Bishop Patteson, the Rev. Benjamin Dudley.\n\nSir William and Lady Martin spent part of this summer in the little\ncottage at Kohimarama where the sailing master of the late 'Southern\nCross' had lived: and again we have to thank her for a picture of life\nat St. Andrew's. She says:--\n\n'The new settlement was then thought to be healthy, and he and his boys\nalike rejoiced in the warmth of the sheltered bay, after the keenness\nof the air at St. John's on higher ground. The place looked very pretty.\nThe green fields and hawthorn hedges and the sleek cattle reminded one\nof England. As a strong contrast, there was the white shelly beach and\nyellow sands. Here the boys sunned themselves in play hours, or fished\non the rocks, or cooked their fish at drift-wood fires. On calm days one\nor two would skim across the blue water in their tiny canoes. One great\ncharm of the place was the freedom and naturalness of the whole party.\nThere was no attempt to force an overstrained piety on these wild\nfellows, who showed their sincerity by coming with the Bishop. By\nfive in the morning all were astir, and jokes and laughter and shrill\nunaccountable cries would rouse us up, and go on all day, save when\nschool and chapel came to sober them.\n\n'The Bishop had not lost his Eton tastes, and only liked to see them\nplay games, and the little fat merry-faced lads were always on the\nlook-out for a bit of fun with him. One evening a tea-drinking was given\nin the hall in honour of us. The Mota boys sung in twilight the story of\nthe first arrival of the Mission vessel and of their wonder at it. The\nair, with a monotonous, not unpleasing refrain, reminded us of some old\nFrench Canadian ditties. I remember well the excitement when the Bishop\nsent up a fire balloon. It sailed slowly towards the sea, and down\nrushed the whole Melanesian party, shrieking with delight after it. Our\ndear friend's own quarters were very tiny, and a great contrast to\nhis large airy room at St. John's. He occupied a corner house in the\nquadrangle, to be close to the boys. Neither bedroom nor sitting-room\nwas more than ten feet square. Everything was orderly, as was his wont.\nPhotographs of the faces and places he loved best hung on the walls.\nJust by the door was his standing desk, with folios and lexicons. A\ntable, covered with books and papers in divers languages, and a chair or\ntwo, completed his stock of furniture. The door stood open all day long\nin fine weather, and the Bishop was seldom alone. One or other of\nthe boys would steal quietly in and sit down. They did not need to be\namused, nor did they interrupt his work. They were quite content to be\nnear him, and to get now and then a kind word or a pleasant smile. It\nwas the habitual gentle sympathy and friendliness on his part that won\nthe confidence of the wild timid people who had been brought up in an\nelement of mistrust, and which enabled them after a while to come and\nopen their hearts to him.\n\n'How vividly the whole scene comes back to me as I write! The Bishop's\ncalm thoughtful face, the dusky lads, the white-shelled square in front,\nrelieved by a mass of bright geraniums or gay creepers, the little\nbed-room with its camp bed, and medicine bottles and good books, and,\ntoo often, in spite of our loving remonstrances, an invalid shivering\nwith ague, or influenza, in possession. We knew that this involved\nbroken nights for him, and a soft board and a rug for a couch. He was\novertasking his powers during those years. He was at work generally from\nfive A.M. to eleven P.M., and this in a close atmosphere; for both the\nschoolroom and his own house were ill-ventilated. He would not spare\ntime enough either for regular exercise. He had a horse and enjoyed\nriding, but he grudged the time except when he had to come up to town on\nbusiness or to take Sunday services for the English in the country. It\nwas very natural, as he had all a student's taste for quiet study, yet\ncould only indulge it by cutting off his own hours for relaxation. He\nwas constantly called off during the day to attend to practical work,\nteaching in school, prescribing for and waiting on the sick, weighing\nout medicines, keeping the farm accounts, besides the night classes in\nseveral languages.\n\n'He was really never so happy as among his boys or his books. He had no\nliking for general society, though his natural courteousness made him\nshrink from seeming ungracious. He did thoroughly enjoy a real talk with\none or two friends at a time, but even this he denied himself.'\n\nFanny Patteson had spent several days at Hursley in the course of the\nwinter, and the Vicar and Mrs. Keble had greatly delighted in hearing\nher brother's letters. The following letter from Mr. Keble was written,\nas will be perceived, immediately after hearing the account of the\nbaptism of the dying child at Mota:--\n\n\n'Hursley, February 19, 1862.\n\n'My dear Bishop Patteson,--I seat myself down on a low chair between\nthe pictures of your uncle and your Metropolitan, and that by command of\nyour sister, who is on a footstool in the corner opposite, I to send two\nwords, she 200, or, for aught I know, 2,000, to greet you on the other\nside of the world. We have the more right, as your kind sisters have\nkept us well up to your Missionary doings from time to time, and we seem\nto be very often with you on board or in your islands (I say we, for\nmy dear wife is more than half of me, as you may well suppose, in such\nsympathies), and it seems to me that, perhaps, in the present state\nof your island or sea-work you may have more time than by-and-by for\nthinking of one and another; anyhow we trust that that may happen which\nwe ask for every evening--that we may be vouchsafed a part in the holy\nprayers which have been that day offered to the Throne of Grace, in\nMelanesia or elsewhere. I don't know whether I am right, but I fancy you\nat times something between a Hermit and a Missionary. God grant you a\ndouble blessing! and as you are a Bishop besides, you will breathe us a\nblessing in return for this, such as it is. Fanny's visit has been, as\nyou know it would be, most charming and genial to us old folks (not that\nmy wife ought to be so spoken of), and I shall always think it so kind\nof her to have spared us the time when she had so much to do and so\nshort a time to do it in; but she seems like one going about with a bag\nof what Bishop Selwyn calls \"hope-seed,\" and sowing it in everyplace;\nyet when one comes to look close at it, it all consists of memories,\nchiefly you know of whom. I only wish I could rightly and truly treasure\nup all she has kindly told us of your dear Father; but it must be a\nspecial grace to remember and really understand such things. It will be\na most peculiar satisfaction, now that we have had her with us in this\nway, to think of you all three together, should God's Providence allow\nthe meeting of which we understand there is a hope. The last thing she\nhas told us of is the baptism on St. Barnabas' Day--\"the first fruits\nof Mota unto Christ.\" What a thought--what a subject for prayer and\nthanksgiving! God grant it may prove to you more than we can ask or\nthink.\n\n'Ever yours, my dear Bishop,\n\n'J. K.\n\n'Don't trouble yourself to write, but think of us.'\n\n\nOf course there was no obeying this postscript, and the immediate reply\nwas:--\n\n\n'My dear dear Mr. Keble,--Few things have ever given me more real\npleasure than the receipt of your letter by this mail. I never doubted\nyour interest in New Zealand and Melanesia, and your affection for me\nfor my dear Father's sake. I felt quite sure that prayers were being\noffered up for us in many places, and where more frequently than at\nHursley? Even as on this day, five years ago, when I touched the reef\nat Guadalcanar, in the presence of three hundred armed and naked men, (I\nheard afterwards) prayers were being uttered in the dead of your night\nby my dear old governess, Miss Neill, that God would have me in His\nsafe keeping. But it is most pleasant, most helpful to me, to read your\nletter, and to feel that I have a kind of right now to write to you, as\nI hope I may do while I live fully and freely.\n\n'I do not say a word concerning the idea some of you in England seem to\ntake of my life here. It is very humbling to me, as it ought to be, to\nread such a letter from you. How different it is really!\n\n'If my dear sisters do come out to me for a while, which, after their\nletters by this February mail, seems less impossible than before, they\nwill soon see what I mean: a missionary's life does not procure him any\nimmunity from temptations, nor from falling into them; though, thanks be\nto God, it has indeed its rich and abundant blessings. It is a blessed\nthing to draw a little fellow, only six months ago a wild little savage,\ndown upon one's knee, and hear his first confession of his past life,\nand his shy hesitating account of the words he uses when he prays to his\nnewly-found God and Saviour. These are rare moments, but they do occur;\nand, if they don't, why the duty is to work all the same.\n\n'The intelligence of some of these lads and young men really surprises\nme. Some with me now, last October were utterly wild, never had worn\na stitch of clothing, were familiar with every kind of vice. They\nnow write an account of a Scripture print, or answer my MS. questions\nwithout copy, of course, fairly and legibly in their books, and read\ntheir own language--only quite lately reduced to writing--with ease.\nWhat an encouragement! And this applies to, I think, the great majority\nof these islanders.\n\n'One child, I suppose some thirteen or fourteen years of age, I baptized\non Christmas Day. Three days afterwards I married her to a young man who\nhad been for some years with us. They are both natives of Nengone, one\nof the Loyalty Isles. I administered the Holy Eucharist to her last\nSaturday, and she is dying peacefully of consumption. What a\nblessed thing! This little one, fresh from Baptism, with all Church\nministrations round her, passing gently away to her eternal rest. She\nlooks at me with her soft dark eyes, and fondles my hand, and says she\nis not unhappy. She has, I verily believe, the secret of real happiness\nin her heart.\n\n'I must write more when at sea. I have very little time here.\n\n'I hope by God's blessing to make a long round among my many islands\nthis winter; some, I know, must be approached with great caution. Your\nprayers will be offered for me and those with me, I know, and am greatly\ncomforted by the knowledge of it.\n\n'Fanny tells me what you have said to her about supplying any deficit\nin the money required for our vessel. I feel as if this ought not in one\nsense to come upon you, but how can I venture to speak to you on such\nmatters? You know all that I think and feel about it. Send me more your\nblessing. I feel cares and anxieties now. My kind love to Mrs. Keble.\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nTwo more notes followed in quick succession to Hursley Vicarage, almost\nentirely upon the matter of the new 'Southern Cross,' which was being\nbuilt under Mr. Tilly's eye. The two Bishops were scrupulous about\nletting Mr. Keble give more than a fair proportion towards the vessel,\nwhich was not to cost more than \u00a33,000, though more roomy than her\nlamented predecessor. Meantime the 'Sea Breeze' was 'again to serve for\nthe winter voyage:--\n\n\n'St. Barnabas Day, Auckland: 1862.\n\n'My dear Sisters,--Think of my being ashore, and in a Christian land on\nthis day. So it is. We sail (D.V.) in six days, as it may be this day\nweek. The Melanesians are very good and pretty well in health, but we\nare all anxious to be in warm climates. I think that most matters are\nsettled. Primate and I have finished our accounts. Think of his wise\nstewardship! The endowment in land and money, and no debts contracted! I\nhope that I leave nothing behind me to cause difficulty, should anything\nhappen. The Primate and Sir William Martin are my executors; Melanesia,\nas you would expect, my heir. I may have forgotten many items, personal\nreminiscences. Ask for anything, should anything happen. I see no reason\nto anticipate it, humanly speaking, but it is always well to think\nof such things. I am just going to the little Taurarua chapel to our\nMelanesian Commemoration service with Holy Communion.\n\n'Oh! if it should please God to grant us a meeting here!\n\n'Great blessings have been given me this summer in seeing the progress\nmade by the scholars, so great as to make me feel sober-minded and\nalmost fearful, but that is wrong and faithless perhaps, and yet surely\nthe trials must come some day.\n\n'God bless you all, and keep you all safe from all harm.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Bishop.'\n\n\n'Friday, June 27th, 2 P.M.--How you are thinking of all that took place\nthat last night on earth. He was taking his departure for a long voyage,\nrather he was entering into the haven where he would be! May God give\nus grace to follow his holy example, his patient endurance of his many\ntrials, the greatest his constant trial of deafness.\n\n'I think if the weather be fair, that we shall go off to-morrow. Oh! if\nwe do meet, and spend, it may be, Christmas together.\n\n28th, 3 P.M.--The first anniversary of our dear Father's death. How you\nare all recalling what took place then! How full of thankfulness for his\ngain, far outweighing the sorrow for our loss! And yet how you must\nfeel it, more than I do, and yet I feel it deeply: but the little fond\nmemories of the last months, and above all the looks and spoken words\nof love, I can't altogether enter into them. His letters are all that\nletters can be, more than any other letters can be, but they are not\nthe same thing in all ways. The Primate has left us to hurry down the\nsailing master of the \"Sea Breeze.\" It was a very rough morning, but is\ncalm now, boats passing and repassing between the shore and the schooner\nat anchor off Kohimarama.'\n\nThe habit of writing journals was not at once resumed by Bishop Patteson\nwhen his father was not there to read them; and the chance of seeing his\nsisters, no doubt, made him write less fully to them, since they might\nbe on the voyage when the letters arrived in England. Thus the fullest\nrecord of the early part of the voyage is in a report which he drew up\nand printed in the form of a letter to the Rev. J. Keble:--\n\n'We chartered the \"Sea Breeze\" schooner in June last for four months:\nshe is a vessel of seventy tons register, a little larger than the old\n\"Southern Cross,\" and as well suited for our purpose as a vessel can be\nwhich is built to carry passengers in the ordinary way. No voyage can of\ncourse equal in importance those early expeditions of the Primate, when\nhe sailed in his little schooner among seas unknown, to islands never\nbefore visited, or visited only by the sandal-wood traders. But I never\nrecollect myself so remarkable a voyage as this last. I do not mean that\nany new method was adopted in visiting islands, or communicating with\nthe natives. God gave to the Bishop of New Zealand wisdom to see and\ncarry out from the first the plan, which more and more approves itself\nas the best and only feasible plan, for our peculiar work. But all\nthrough this voyage, both in revisiting islands well known to us, and in\nrecommencing the work in other islands, where, amidst the multitude\nof the Primate's engagements, it had been impossible to keep up our\nacquaintance with the people, and in opening the way in islands now\nvisited for the first time, from the beginning to the end, it pleased\nGod to prosper us beyond all our utmost hopes. I was not only able to\nland on many places where, as far as I know, no white man had set foot\nbefore, but to go inland, to inspect the houses, canoes, &c., in crowded\nvillages (as at Santa Cruz), or to sit for two hours alone amidst a\nthrong of people (as at Pentecost Island), or to walk two and a half\nmiles inland (as at Tariko or Aspee). From no less than eight islands\nhave we for the first time received, young people for our school here,\nand fifty-one Melanesian men, women, and young lads are now with\nus, gathered from twenty-four islands, exclusive of the islands so\nlong-known to us of the Loyalty Group. When you remember that at Santa\nCruz, e.g., we had never landed before, and that this voyage I was\npermitted to go ashore at seven different places in one day, during\nwhich I saw about 1,200 men: that in all these islands the inhabitants\nare, to look at, wild, naked, armed with spears and clubs, or bows and\npoisoned arrows; that every man's hand (as, alas! we find only too\nsoon when we live among them) is against his neighbour, and scenes of\nviolence and bloodshed amongst themselves of frequent occurrence; and\nthat throughout this voyage (during which I landed between seventy and\neighty times) not one hand was lifted up against me, not one sign\nof ill-will exhibited; you will see why I speak and think with real\namazement and thankfulness of a voyage accompanied with results so\nwholly unexpected. I say results, for the effecting a safe landing on\nan island, and much more the receiving a native lad from it, is, in\nthis sense, a result, that the great step has been made of commencing an\nacquaintance with the people. If I live to make another voyage, I shall\nno longer go ashore there as a stranger. I know the names of some of the\nmen; I can by signs remind them of some little present made, some little\noccurrence which took place; we have already something in common, and as\nfar as they know me at all, they know me as a friend. Then some lad\nis given up to us, the language learned, and a real hold on the island\nobtained.\n\n'The most distant point we reached was the large island Ysabel, in the\nSolomon Archipelago. From this island a lad has come away with us, and\nwe have also a native boy from an island not many miles distant from\nYsabel, called Anudha, but marked in the charts (though not correctly)\nas Florida.\n\n'It would weary you if I wrote of all the numerous adventures and\nstrange scenes which in such a voyage we of course experience. I will\ngive you, if I can, an idea of what took place at some few islands, to\nillustrate the general character of the voyage.\n\n'One of the New Hebrides Islands, near the middle of the group, was\ndiscovered by Cook, and by him called \"Three Hills.\" The central part of\nit, where we have long-had an acquaintance with the natives, is called\nby them \"Mai.\" Some six years ago we landed there, and two young men\ncame away with us, and spent the summer in New Zealand. Their names were\nPetere and Laure; the former was a local chief of some consequence. We\ntook a peculiar interest in this island, finding that a portion of\nthe population consists of a tribe speaking a dialect of the great\nPolynesian language of which another dialect is spoken in New Zealand.\nEvery year we have had scholars from Mai, several of whom can read and\nwrite. We have landed there times without number, slept ashore three or\nfour times, and are well known of course to the inhabitants.\n\n'The other day I landed as usual among a crowd of old acquaintances,\npainted and armed, but of that I thought nothing. Knowing them to be\nso friendly to us, instead of landing alone, I took two or three of\nour party to walk inland with me; and off we started, Mr. Dudley and\nWadrokala being left sitting in the boat, which was, as usual, a short\ndistance from the beach. We had walked about half a mile before I\nnoticed something unusual in the manner of the people, and I overheard\nthem talking in a way that made me suspect that something had happened\nwhich they did not want me to know. Petere had not made his appearance,\nthough in general the first to greet us, and on my making enquiries for\nhim, I was told that he was not well. Not long afterwards I overheard\na man say that Petere was dead, and taking again some opportunity that\noffered itself for asking about him, was told that he was dead, that he\nhad died of dysentery. I was grieved to hear this, because I liked\nhim personally and had expected help from him when the time came for\ncommencing a Mission station on the island. The distance from the beach\nto the village where Petere lived is about one and a half mile, and\na large party had assembled before we reached it. There was a great\nlamentation and crying on our arrival, during which I sat down on a\nlarge log of a tree. Then came a pause, and I spoke to the people,\ntelling them how sorry I was to hear of Petere's death. There was\nsomething strange still about their manner, which I could not quite make\nout; and one of our party, who was not used to the kind of thing, did\nnot like the looks of the people and the clubs and spears. At last one\nof them, an old scholar of ours, came forward and said, \"The men here do\nnot wish to deceive you; they know that you loved Petere, and they will\nnot hide the truth; Petere was killed by a man in a ship, a white man,\nwho shot him in the forehead.\" Of course I made minute enquiries as to\nthe ship, the number of masts, how many people they saw, whether there\nwas anything remarkable about the appearance of any person on board, &c.\nThe men standing round us were a good deal excited, but the same story\nwas told by them all.\n\n'After a while I walked back to the beach, no indication having been\nmade of unfriendliness, but I had not gone more than a quarter of a\nmile when three men rushed past me from behind, and ran on to the beach.\nMeanwhile Mr. Dudley and Wadrokala in the boat were rather uneasy at\nthe manner of the people standing near them on the reef; and they too\nsuspected that something unusual had occurred. Presently they saw these\nthree men rush out of the bush on to the beach and distribute \"kava\"\n(leaves of the pepper plant) among the people, who at once changed their\nmanner, became quite friendly and soon dispersed. It was quite evident\nthat a discussion had taken place on shore as to the treatment we were\nto receive; and these men on the beach were awaiting the result of the\ndiscussion, prepared to act accordingly. There was scarcely any danger\nin our case of their deciding to injure us, because they knew us well;\nbut had we been strangers we should have been killed of course; their\npractice being, naturally enough, to revenge the death of a countryman\non the arrival of the next man who comes from what they suppose to be\ntheir enemies' country.\n\n'This story may show you that caution is necessary long after the time\nthat a real friendship has commenced and been carried on. We never can\ntell what may have taken place during the intervals of our visits. I\nreturned to the village, with Mr. Kerr and Mr. Dudley and slept ashore,\nthinking it right to restore mutual confidence at once; and there was\nnot the slightest risk in doing so.\n\n'Now let me tell you about an island called Ambrym, lying to the\nsouth of Aurora and Pentecost, the two northernmost islands of the New\nHebrides group.\n\n'Ambrym is a grand island, with a fine active volcano, so active on this\nlast occasion of our visiting it, that we were covered and half-blinded\nby the ashes; the deck was thickly covered with them, and the sea\nfor miles strewed with floating cinders. We have repeatedly landed in\ndifferent parts of the island, but this time we visited an entirely new\nplace. There was a considerable surf on the beach, and I did not like\nthe boat to go near the shore, partly on that account, but chiefly\nbecause our rule is not to let the boat approach too near the beach lest\nit should be hauled up on shore by the people and our retreat to the\nschooner cut off. So I beckoned to some men in a canoe (for I could not\nspeak a word of the language), who paddled up to us, and took me ashore.\n\n'As I was wading to the beach, an elderly man came forward from the\ncrowd to the water's edge, where he stood holding both his arms uplifted\nover his head. Directly that I reached him, he took my hand, and put it\nround his neck, and turned to walk up the beach. As I walked along with\nhim through the throng of men, more than three hundred in number, my arm\nall the while round his neck, I overheard a few words which gave me some\nslight clue as to the character of their language, and a very few words\ngo a long way on such occasions. We went inland some short distance,\npassing through part of a large village, till we came to a house with\nfigures, idols or not, I hardly know, placed at some height above the\ndoor.\n\n'They pointed to these figures and repeated a name frequently, not\nunlike the name of one of the gods of some of the islands further to the\nnorth; then they struck the hollow tree, which is their native drum, and\nthronged close round me, while I gave away a few fish-hooks, pieces of\nred braid, &c. I asked the names of some of the people, and of objects\nabout me, trees, birds, &c. I was particularly struck with two boys who\nkept close to me. After some time I made signs that I would return to\nthe beach, and we began to move away from the village; but I was soon\nstopped by some men, who brought me two small trees, making signs that I\nshould plant them.\n\n'When I returned to the beach, the two boys were still with me, and I\ntook their hands and walked on amidst the crowd. I did not imagine that\nthey would come away with me, and yet a faint hope of their doing so\nsprang up in my mind, as I still found them holding my hands, and even\nwhen I began to wade towards the boat still close by my side in the\nwater. All this took place in the presence of several hundred natives,\nwho allowed these boys to place themselves in the boat and be taken on\nboard the schooner.\n\n'I was somewhat anxious about revisiting an island called Tikopia.\nOnce we were there, five or six years ago. The island is small, and the\ninhabitants probably not more than three hundred or four hundred. They\nare Polynesians, men of very large stature, rough in manner, and not\nvery easily managed. I landed there and waded across the reef among\nforty or fifty men. On the beach a large party assembled. I told them\nin a sort of Polynesian patois, that I wished to take away two lads from\ntheir island, that I might learn their language, and come back and teach\nthem many things for their good. This they did not agree to. They said\nthat some of the full-grown men wished to go away with me; but to this\nI in my turn could not agree. These great giants would be wholly\nunmanageable in our school at present. I went back to the edge of the\nreef--about three hundred yards--and got into the boat with two men;\nwe rowed off a little way, and I attempted, more quietly than the noisy\ncrowd on shore would allow, to explain to them my object in coming\nto them. After a while we pulled back to the reef, and I waded ashore\nagain; but I could not induce them to let me take any one away who was\nat all eligible for the school. Still I was very thankful to have been\nable twice to land and remain half an hour or more on shore among the\npeople. Next year (D.V.) I may be able to see more of them, and perhaps\nmay obtain a scholar, and so open the island. It is a place visited\nby whalers, but they never land here, and indeed the inhabitants are\ngenerally regarded as dangerous fellows to deal with, so I was all the\nmore glad to have made a successful visit.\n\n'Nothing could have been more delightful than the day I spent in making\nfrequent landings on the north side of Santa Cruz. This island was\nvisited by Spaniards, under the command of Mendana, nearly three hundred\nyears ago. They attempted to found a colony there, but after a short\ntime were compelled, by illness and the death of Mendana and his\nsuccessor, to abandon their endeavour. It is apparently a very fertile\nisland, certainly a very populous one. The inhabitants are very\ningenious, wearing beautiful ornaments, making good bags woven of grass\nstained with turmeric, and fine mats. Their arrows are elaborately\ncarved, and not less elaborately poisoned: their canoes well made and\nkept in good order. We never before landed on this island; but the\nPrimate, long before I was in this part of the world, and two or three\ntimes since, had sailed and rowed into the bay at the north-west end,\ncalled Graciosa Bay, the fine harbour in which the Spaniards anchored. I\nwent ashore this last voyage in seven different places, large crowds\nof men thronging down to the water's edge as I waded to the beach. They\nwere exceedingly friendly, allowed me to enter the houses, sit down and\ninspect their mode of building them. They brought me food to eat; and\nwhen I went out of the houses again, let me examine the large sea-going\ncanoes drawn up in line on the beach. I wrote down very many names, and\ntried hard to induce some young people to come away with me, but after\nwe had pulled off some way, their courage failed them, and they swam\nback to the shore.\n\n'Two or three of the men took off little ornaments and gave them to\nme; one bright pretty boy especially I remember, who took off his shell\nnecklace and put it round my neck, making me understand, partly by\nwords, but more by signs, that he was afraid to come now, but would do\nso if I returned, as I said, in eight or ten moons.\n\n'Large baskets of almonds were given me, and other food also thrown into\nthe boat. I made a poor return by giving some fish-hooks and a tomahawk\nto the man whom I took to be the person of most consequence. On shore\nthe women came freely up to me among the crowd, but they were afraid to\nventure down to the beach. Now this is the island about which we have\nlong felt a great difficulty as to the right way of obtaining any\ncommunication with the natives. This year, why and how I cannot tell,\nthe way was opened beyond all expectation. I tried hard to get back from\nthe Solomon Islands so as to revisit it again during the voyage, but we\ncould not get to the eastward, as the trade-wind blew constantly from\nthat quarter.\n\n'At Leper's Island I had just such another day--or rather two days were\nspent in making an almost complete visitation of the northern part of\nthe island--the people were everywhere most friendly, and I am hoping to\nsee them all again join us soon, when some may be induced to.\n\n'It would be the work of days to tell you all our adventures. How at\nMalanta I picked two lads out of a party of thirty-six in a grand war\ncanoe going on a fighting expedition--and very good fellows they are;\nhow we filled up our water-casks at Aurora, standing up to our necks\nin the clear cool stream rushing down from a cataract above, with the\nnatives assisting us in the most friendly manner; how at Santa Maria,\nwhich till this year we never visited without being shot at, I walked\nfor four or five hours far inland wherever I pleased, meeting great\ncrowds of men all armed and suspicious of each other--indeed actually\nfighting with each other--but all friendly to me; how at Espiritu Santo,\nwhen I had just thrown off my coat and tightened my belt to swim ashore\nthrough something of a surf, a canoe was launched, and without more ado\na nice lad got into our boat and came away with us, without giving me\nthe trouble of taking a swim at all; how at Florida Island, never before\nreached by us, one out of some eighty men, young and old, standing all\nround me on the reef, to my astonishment returned with me to the boat,\nand without any opposition from the people quietly seated himself by my\nside and came away to the schooner; how at Pentecost Island, Taroniara\n(a lad whom the Primate in old days had picked up in his canoe paddling\nagainst a strong head wind, and kept him on board all night, and sent\nhim home with presents in the morning) now came away with me, but\nnot without his bow and poisoned arrows, of which I have taken safe\npossession; how Misial felt sea-sick and home-sick for a day or two,\nbut upon being specially patronised by the cook, soon declared \"that no\nplace could compare with the galley of a Mission vessel,\" to the truth\nof which declaration the necessity of enlarging his scanty garments soon\nbore satisfactory testimony; how at Ysabel the young chief came on board\nwith a white cockatoo instead of a hawk on his wrist, which he presented\nto me with all the grace in the world, and with an enquiry after his\ngood friend Captain Hume, of H.M.S. \"Cordelia,\" who had kindly taken me\nto this island in the winter of 1861.'\n\nTo this may be added some touches from the home letter of August 27, off\nVanikoro:--\n\n'I don't deny that I am thankful that the Tikopia visit is well over.\nThe people are so very powerful and so independent and unmanageable,\nthat I always have felt anxious about visiting them. Once we were there\nin 1856, and now again. I hope to keep on visiting them annually. Sydney\ntraders have been there, but have never landed; they trade at arm's\nlength from their boat and are well armed. It is a strange sensation,\nsitting alone (say) 300 yards from the boat, which of course can't be\ntrusted in their hands, among 200 or more of people really gigantic. No\nmen have I ever seen so large--huge Patagonian limbs, and great heavy\nhands clutching up my little weak arms and shoulders. Yet it is not a\nsensation of fear, but simply of powerlessness; and it makes one think,\nas I do when among them, of another Power present to protect and defend.\n\n'They perfectly understood my wish to bring away lads. Full-grown\nBrobdignag men wished to come, and some got into the boat who were not\neasily got out of it again. Boys swam off, wishing to come, but the\nelder people prevented it, swimming after them and dragging them back.\nIt was a very rough, blustering day; but even on such a day the lee side\nof the island is a beautiful sight, one mass of cocoa-nut trees, and the\nvillages so snugly situated among the trees.\n\n'Just been up the rigging to get a good look at this great encircling\nreef at Vanikoro. Green water as smooth as glass, inside the reef for\na mile, and then pretty villages; but there is no passage through the\nreef, it is a continuous breakwater. We are working up towards a part\nof the reef where I think there may be a passage. Anyhow I am gaining a\ngood local knowledge of this place, and that saves time another year.\n\n'The ten lads on board talk six languages, not one of which do I know;\nbut as I get words and sentences from them, I see how they will \"work\nin\" with the general character of the language of which I have several\ndialects. It is therefore not very difficult to get on some little way\ninto all at once; but I must not be disappointed if I find that\nother occupations take me away too much for my own pleasure from this\nparticular branch of my work.'\n\nA long letter to Sir John T. Coleridge gives another aspect of the\nvoyage:--\n\n\n'\"Sea Breeze\" Schooner: off Rennell Island. 'Therm. 89\u00b0 in shade; lat.\n11\u00b0 40', long. 160\u00b0 18' 5\". 'September 7, 1862.\n\n'My dear Uncle,--I can hardly keep awake for the unusually great heat.\nThe wind is northerly, and it is very light, indeed we are almost\nbecalmed, so you will have a sleepy letter, indeed over my book I was\nalready nodding. I think it better to write to you (though on a Sunday)\nthan to sleep. What a compliment! But I shall grow more wakeful as I\nwrite. Perhaps my real excuse for writing is that I feel to-day much\noppressed with the thought of these great islands that I have been\nvisiting, and I am sadly disappointed in some of my scholars from San\nCristoval.\n\n'Leaving New Zealand on June 20th, I sailed to Norfolk Island, where I\nheld my first Confirmation. By desire of the Bishop of Tasmania, I\nact as Bishop for the Norfolk Islanders. This was, as you know, a very\nsolemn time for me; sixteen dear children were confirmed. Since that\ntime I have visited very many islands with almost unequalled success, as\nfar as effecting landings, opening communication, and receiving native\nlads are concerned. I have on board natives from many places from which\nwe have never received them before. Many I have left with Mr. Dudley and\nMr. Pritt on Mota Island at school, but I have now twenty-one, speaking\neleven languages. At many places where we had never landed, I was\nreceived well.\n\n'The state of things, too, in the Banks Islands is very encouraging.\nWhat do you think of my having two married (after their fashion) couples\non board from the Solomon Islands (San Cristoval and Contrariete)? This\nwas effected with some difficulty. Both the men are old scholars, of\ncourse. I ought therefore to be most thankful; and yet my heart is\nsad because, after promises given by Grariri and his wife, Parenga and\nKerearua (all old scholars, save Mrs. Garm), not one came away with me\nyesterday, and I feel grieved at the loss of my dear boys, who can read\nand write, and might be taught so much now! It is all very faithless;\nbut I must tell it all to you, for indeed I do not feel as if I had\nany right to expect it otherwise, but in the moment of perceiving and\nconfessing that it is very good for me, I find out for the first time\nhow much my heart was set upon having them.\n\n'And then San Cristoval, sixty miles long, with its villages and\nlanguages, and Malanta over eighty miles long, and Guadalcanar, seventy!\nIt is a silly thought or a vain, human wish, but I feel as if I longed\nto be in fifty or a hundred places at once. But God will send qualified\nmen in good time. In the meanwhile (for the work must be carried on\nmainly by native teachers gathered from each island), as some fall off I\nmust seek to gain others. Even where lads are only two, or even one year\nwith mer and then apparently fall back to what they were before, some\ngood may be done, the old teaching may return upon them some day, and\nthey may form a little nucleus for good, though not now.\n\n'As for openings for men of the right sort, they abound. Really if I\nwere free to locate myself on an island instead of going about to all, I\nhardly know to which of some four or five I ought to go. But it is of\nno use to have men who are not precisely the kind of men wanted. Somehow\none can't as yet learn to ask men to do things that one does oneself\nas a matter of course. It needs a course of training to get rid of\nconventional notions. I think that Norfolk Island may supply a few, a\nvery few fellows able to be of use, and perhaps New Zealand will do so,\nand I have the advantage of seeing and knowing them. I don't think that\nI must expect men from England, I can't pay them well; and it is so very\ndifficult to give a man on paper any idea of what his life will be in\nMelanesia or Kohimarama. So very much that would be most hazardous to\nothers has ceased to be so to me, because I catch up some scrap of the\nlanguage talked on the beach, and habit has given an air of coolness and\nassurance. But this does not come all at once, and you cannot talk\nabout all this to others. I feel ashamed as I write it even to you. They\nbother me to put anecdotes of adventures into our Report, but I cannot.\nYou know no one lands on these places but myself, and it would be no\ngood to tell stories merely to catch somebody's ear. It was easier to do\nso when the Bishop and I went together, but I am not training up anyone\nto be the visitor, and so I don't wish anybody else to go with me.\nBesides Mr. Pritt and Mr. Dudley are bad swimmers, and Mr. Kerr not\nfirst-rate. My constant thought is \"By what means will God provide for\nthe introduction of Christianity into these islands,\" and my constant\nprayer that He will reveal such means to me, and give me grace to use\nthem.\n\n'What reality there is in such a work as this! What continual need of\nguidance and direction! I here see before me now an island stretching\naway twenty-five miles in length! Last night I left one sixty miles\nlong. I know that hundreds are living there ignorant of God, wild men,\ncannibals, addicted to every vice. I know that Christ died for them, and\nthat the message is for them, too. How am I to deliver it? How find an\nentrance among them? How, when I have learnt their language, speak to\nthem of religion, so as not to introduce unnecessary obstacles to the\nreception of it, nor compromise any of its commands?\n\n'Thank God I can fall back upon many solid points of comfort--chiefest\nof all, He sees and knows it all perfectly. He sees the islanders too,\nand loves them, how infinitely more than I can! He desires to save them.\nHe is, I trust, sending me to them. He will bless honest endeavours\nto do His will among them. And then I think how it must all appear to\nangels and saints, how differently they see these things. Already, to\ntheir eyes, the light is breaking forth in Melanesia; and I take great\ncomfort from this thought, and remember that it does not matter whether\nit is in my time, only I must work on. And then I think of the prayers\nof the Church, ascending continually for the conversion of the heathen;\nand I know that many of you are praying specially for the heathen of\nMelanesia. And so one's thoughts float out to India, and China, and\nJapan, and Africa, and the islands of the sea, and the very vastness of\nthe work raises one's thoughts to God, as the only One by whom it must\nbe done.\n\n'Now, dear Uncle, I have written all this commonplace talk, not\nregarding its dulness in your eyes, but because I felt weary and also\nsomewhat overwrought and sad; and it has done me much good, and given me\na happy hour.\n\n'We had our service on board this morning, and the Holy Eucharist\nafterwards; Mr. Kerr, two Norfolk Islanders, a Maori, and a Nengone man\npresent. I ought not to be faint-hearted. My kind love to Aunt and Mary.\n\n'Your affectionate and dutiful Nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nThe climate of Mota had again disagreed with Mr. Dudley, who was laid up\nwith chronic rheumatism nearly all the time he was there; and the Bishop\nreturned from his voyage very unwell; but Mr. Pritt happily was strong\nand active, and the elder Banks Island scholars were very helpful, both\nin working and teaching, so that the schools went on prosperously, and\nthe custom of carrying weapons in Mota was dropped.\n\nOn November 7 the 'Sea Breeze' was again in harbour; and on the 15th,\nafter mature consideration, was written this self-sacrificing letter:--\n\n\n'St. Andrew's: November 15, 1862.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--I returned from a voyage unusually interesting and\nprosperous on the 7th of this month; absent just nineteen weeks. We were\nin all on board seventy-one.\n\n'I found all your letters from April to August 25. How thankful I am to\nsee and know what I never doubted, the loving manner in which my first\nand later letters about New Zealand were taken. How wise of you to\nperceive that in truth my judgment remained all through unaltered,\nthough my feelings were strongly moved, indeed the good folk here begged\nme to reconsider my resolution, thinking no doubt kindly for me that it\nwould be so great a joy to me to see you. Of course it would; were there\nno other considerations that we already know and agree upon, what joy so\ngreat on earth! But I feel sure that we are right. Thank God that we\ncan so speak, think, and act with increasing affection and trust in each\nother!\n\n'The more I think of it, the more I feel \"No, it would not do! It would\nnot be either what Joan expects or what Fan expects. They look at it in\nsome ways alike--i.e., in the matter of seeing me, which both equally\nlong to do. In some ways they regard it differently. But it would not\nto one or the other be the thing they hope and wish for. They would\nboth feel (what yet they would not like to acknowledge) disappointment.\"\nThough, therefore, I could not help feeling often during the voyage,\n\"What if I hear that they may be with me by Christmas!\" yet it was not\nexactly unwelcome to hear that you do not come. I recognised at once\nyour reading of my letters as the right one; and my feelings, strong\nas they are, give way to other considerations, especially when, from my\nmany occupations, I have very little time to indulge them.\n\n'But for the thought of coming, and your great love to me, I thank you,\ndear ones, with all my heart. May God bless you for it!...\n\n'Good-bye, my dear Sisters; we are together in heart at all events.\n\n'Your loving Brother, 'J. C. P.'\n\nThe judgment had decided that the elder sister especially would suffer\nmore from the rough life at Kohimarama than her brother could bear that\nshe should undergo, when he could give her so little of his society as\ncompensation, without compromising his own decided principle that all\nmust yield to the work. Perhaps he hardly knew how much he betrayed\nof the longing, even while deciding against its gratification; but his\nsisters were wise enough to act on his judgment, and not on their own\nimpulse; and the events of the next season proved that he had been\nright. To Sir John Coleridge he wrote:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama: November 15, 1862.\n\n'My dear Uncle,--I should indeed, as you say, delight to have a ramble\nin the old scenes, and a good unburthening of thoughts conceived during\nthe past seven or eight years.\n\n'And yet you see I could not try the experiment of those dear good\nsisters of mine coming out. It would not have been what they expected\nand meant to come out to. I am little seen by any but Melanesians, and\nquite content that it should be so. I can't do what I want with them,\nnor a tenth part of it as it is. I cannot write to you of this last\nvoyage--in many respects a most remarkable one--indicating, if I am not\nover hopeful, a new stage in our Mission work. Many islands yielding\nscholars for the first time; old scholars, with but few exceptions,\nsteadfast and rapidly improving; no less than fifty-seven Melanesians\nhere now from twenty-four islands, exclusive of the Loyalty Islands,\nand five bright Pitcairners, from twenty-four to sixteen, helpful,\ngood, conscientious lads. There are eight languages that I do not know,\nbesides all the rest; yet I can see that they are all links in the great\nchain of dialects of the great \"Pacific language,\"--yet dialects very\nfar removed sometimes from one another.\n\n'I find it not very easy to comply with reasonable demands from men in\nEurope, who want to know about these things. If I had time and ability,\nI think I should enjoy really going into philology. I get books sent me\nfrom people such as Max Muller, Grabalentz, &c.; and if I write to them\nat all, it is useless to write anything but an attempt at classification\nof the dialects; and that is difficult, for there are so many, and\nit takes so long to explain to another the grounds upon which I feel\njustified in connecting dialects and calling them cognate. It becomes an\ninstinct almost, I suppose, with people in the trade.\n\n'But I hardly know how far I ought to spend any time in such things.\nElementary grammars for our own missionaries and teachers are useful,\nand the time is well spent in writing them. Hence it is that I do not\nwrite longer letters. Oh! how I enjoy writing un-business letters; but I\ncan't help it--it's part of my business now to write dull Reports--i.e.\nreports that I can't help making dull, and all the rest of it....\n\n'I cannot write about Bishop Mackenzie. Mr. Pritt (at 9.30 P.M. the\nnight we landed) put his head into my room and said, \"Bishop Mackenzie\nis dead,\" and I sat and sat on and knelt and could not take it all in! I\ncannot understand what the papers say of his modus operandi, yet I know\nthat it was an error of judgment, if an error at all, and there may be\nmuch which we do not know. So I suspend my opinion.'\n\nIn a letter to myself, written by the same mail, in reply to one in\nwhich I had begged him to consider what was the sight, to a Christian\nman, of slaves driven off with heavy yokes on their necks, and whether\nit did not justify armed interposition, he replies with arguments that\nit is needless now to repeat, but upholding the principle that\nthe shepherd is shepherd to the cruel and erring as well as to the\noppressed, and ought not to use force. The opinion is given most humbly\nand tenderly, for he had a great veneration for his brother Missionary\nBishop. Commenting on the fact that Bishop Selwyn's speech at Cambridge\nhad made Charles Mackenzie a missionary, and that he would gladly have\nhailed an invitation to the Australasian field of labour, the letter\nproceeds:--\n\n'How wonderful it is to reflect upon the events of the last few years!\nHad he come out when I did to New Zealand, I might be now his Missionary\nChaplain; and yet it is well that there should be two missionary\ndioceses, and without the right man for the African Mission, there might\nhave been a difficulty in carrying out the plan.\n\n'The chapel is not built yet, for I have sixty mouths to feed, and other\nbuildings must be thought of for health's sake. But I have settled all\nthat in my will.'\n\n'In a postscript is mentioned the arrival of some exquisite altar plate\nfor the College chapel, which had been offered by a lady, who had also\nbountifully supplied with chronometers and nautical instruments the\n'Southern Cross,' which was fast being built at Southampton.\n\nThe above letter was accompanied by one to Dr. Moberly:--\n\n\n'St. Andrew's College, Kohimarama: Nov. 18, 1862.\n\n'My dear Dr. Moberly,--Thank you heartily for writing to me. It is\na real help to me and to others also, I think, of my party to be in\ncommunication with those whom we have long respected, and whose prayers\nwe now more than ever earnestly ask. We returned on November 7 from a\nvery remarkable voyage.\n\n'I was nineteen weeks absent all but a day: sailed far beyond our most\ndistant island in my previous voyage, landed nearly eighty times amidst\n(often) 300 and more natives, naked, armed, &c., and on no less than\nthirty or forty places never trodden before (as far as I know) by the\nfoot of a white man. Not one arm was lifted up against me, not one bow\ndrawn or spear shaken. I think of it all quietly now with a sort of\nwondering thankfulness.\n\n'From not less than eight islands we have now for the first time\nreceived native lads; and not only are openings being thus made for us\nin many directions, but the permanent training of our old scholars is\ngoing on most favourably; so that by the blessing of God we hope, at\nall events in the Banks Islands, to carry on continuously the Mission\nSchools during the winter and summer also. We have spent the three last\nwinters here, but it would not be wise to run the risk of the damp hot\nclimate in the summer. Natives of the island must do this, and thank God\nthere are natives being raised up now to do it. The enclosed translation\nof a note. It is but three or four years since the language was reduced\nto writing, and here is a young man writing down his thoughts to me\nafter a long talk about the question of his being baptized.\n\n'Four others there are soon, by God's blessing, to be baptized\nalso--Sarawia from Vanua Lava, Tagalana from Aroa, Pasvorang from\nEowa, Woleg from Mota, and others are pressing on; Taroniara from San\nCristoval, Kanambat from New Caledonia, &c. I tell you their names, for\nyou will I know, remember them in your prayers.\n\n'Will you kindly let Mr. Keble see the enclosed note? It does not, of\ncourse, give much idea of the lad's state of mind; but he is thoroughly\nin earnest, and as for his knowledge of his duty there can be no\nquestion there. He really knows his Catechism. I have scarcely a minute\nto write by this mail. Soon you will have, I hope, a sketch of our last\nvoyage. We remember you all, benefactors and benefactresses, daily.\nThank you again for writing to me: it humbles me, as it ought to do, to\nreceive such a letter from you.\n\n'Very faithfully yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nThese names deserve note: Sarawia the first to be ordained of the\nMelanesian Church; and Taroniara, who was to share his Bishop's death.\nB----, as will be seen, has had a far more chequered course. Tagalana\nis described in another letter as having the thoughtfulness of one who\nknows that he has the seeds of early death in him; but he, the living\nlectern at the consecration, has lived to be the first deacon of his\nisland of Aroa.\n\nThe ensuing is to the Rev. Derwent Coleridge, at that time Principal\nof St. Mark's Training College, Chelsea, upon the question whether that\ninstitution would afford assistants:--\n\n\n'Auckland, New Zealand: Nov. 15, 1862.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--You will not be surprised, I hope, to hear from me;\nI only wish I had written to you long ago. But until quite recently\nwe could not speak with so much confidence concerning the Melanesian\nMission, and it is of little use to write vaguely on matters which I am\nanxious now to make known to you.\n\n'The general plan of the Mission you may get some notion of from the\nlast year's Report (which I send), and possibly you may have heard or\nseen something about it in former years. This last voyage of nineteen\nweeks, just concluded, has determined me to write to you; for the time\nis come when we want helpers indeed, and I think that you will expect me\nnaturally to turn to you.\n\n'It is not only that very many islands throughout the South Pacific,\nfrom the Loyalty Islands on to the northwest as far as Ysabel Island in\nthe Solomon group, are now yielding up scholars and affording\nopenings for Mission stations, though this indeed is great matter for\nthankfulness; but there is, thank God, a really working staff gathered\nround us from the Banks Archipelago, which affords a definite field,\nalready partially occupied with a regular system at work in it; and here\nyoung persons may receive the training most needed for them, actually\non a heathen island, though soon not to be without some few Christians\namongst its population. Now I can say to anyone willing and qualified to\nhelp me:--\n\n'In the six summer months there is the central school work in New\nZealand, where now there are with me fifty-one Melanesians from\ntwenty-four islands, speaking twenty-three languages; and in the six\nwinter months there is a station regularly occupied on Mota Island,\nwhere all the necessary experience of life in the islands can be\nacquired.\n\n'I am not in any hurry for men. Norfolk Island has given me five young\nfellows from twenty-one to sixteen years of age, who already are very\nuseful. One has been with me a year, another four months. They are\ngiven unreservedly into my hands, and already are working well into our\nschool, taking the superintendence of our cooking, e.g., off our hands;\nwith some help from us, they will be very useful at once as helpers on\nMota, doing much in the way of gardening, putting up huts, &c., which\nwill free us for more teaching work, &c., and they are being educated\nby us with an eye to their future employment (D.V.) as missionaries. I\nwould not wish for better fellows; their moral and religious conduct is\nreally singularly good--you know their circumstances and the character\nof the whole community. But I should be thankful by-and-by to have men\nequally willing to do anything, yet better educated in respect of book\nknowledge. No one is ever asked to do what we are not willing to do, and\ngenerally in the habit of doing ourselves--cooking, working, &c., &c.\nBut the Melanesian lads really do all this kind of work now. I have\nsixty mouths to fill here now; and Melanesian boys, told out week by\nweek, do the whole of the cooking (simple enough, of course) for us\nall with perfect punctuality. I don't think any particular taste for\nlanguages necessary at all. Anyone who will work hard at it can learn\nthe language of the particular class assigned to him. Earnest, bright,\ncheerful fellows, without that notion of \"making sacrifices,\" &c.,\nperpetually occurring to their minds, would be invaluable. You know\nthe kind of men, who have got rid of the conventional notion that more\nself-denial is needed for a missionary than for a sailor or soldier,\nwho are sent anywhere, and leave home and country for years, and think\nnothing of it, because they go \"on duty.\" Alas! we don't so read our\nordination vows. A fellow with a healthy, active tone of mind, plenty\nof enterprise and some enthusiasm, who makes the best of everything, and\nabove all does not think himself better than other people because he\nis engaged in Mission work--that is the fellow we want. I assume, of\ncourse, the existence of sound religious principle as the greatest\nqualification of all. Now, if there be any young persons whom you could\nwish to see engaged in this Mission now at St. Mark's, or if you know\nof any such and feel justified in speaking to them, you will be doing a\ngreat kindness to me, and, I believe, aiding materially in this work.\n\n'I should not wish at all any young man to be pledged to anything; as on\nmy part I will not pledge myself to accept, much less ordain, any man\nof whom I have no personal knowledge. But let anyone really in earnest,\nwith a desire and intention (as far as he is concerned) to join the\nMission, come to me about December or January in any year. Then he\nwill live at the Mission College till the end of April, and can see for\nhimself the mode of life at the Central Summer School in New Zealand.\nThen let him take a voyage with me, see Melanesians in their own homes,\nstop for a while at Mota--e.g. make trial of the climate, &c., &c., and\nthen let me have my decisive talk with him.\n\n'If he will not do for the work, I must try and find other employment\nfor him in some New Zealand diocese, or help to pay his passage home.\nI don't think such a person as you would recommend would fail to make\nhimself useful; but I must say plainly that I would rather not have a\nman from England at all, than be bound to accept a man who might not\nthoroughly and cordially work into the general system that we have\nadopted. We live together entirely, all meals in common, same cabin,\nsame hut, and the general life and energy of us all would be damaged by\nthe introduction of any one discordant element. You will probably say,\n\"Men won't go out on these terms,\" and this is indeed probable, yet\nif they are the right fellows for this work--a work wholly anomalous,\nunlike all other work that they have thought of in many respects--they\nwill think that what I say is reasonable, and like the prospect all\nthe better (I think) because they see that it means downright work in a\ncheery, happy, hopeful, friendly spirit.\n\n'A man who takes the sentimental view of coral islands and cocoa-nuts,\nof course, is worse than useless; a man possessed with the idea that he\nis making a sacrifice will never do; and a man who thinks any kind of\nwork \"beneath a gentleman\" will simply be in the way, and be rather\nuncomfortable at seeing the Bishop do what he thinks degrading to do\nhimself. I write all this quite freely, wishing to convey, if possible,\nsome idea to you of the kind of men we need. And if the right fellow is\nmoved by God's grace to come out, what a welcome we will give him, and\nhow happy he will soon be in a work the abundant blessings of which none\ncan know as we know them. There are three clergymen with me. Mr. Pritt,\nwho came out with the Bishop of Nelson as his chaplain, but who, I am\nthankful to say, is regularly part and parcel of the Mission staff; Mr.\nDudley, ordained last year, who for six years has been in the Mission,\nand has had the special advantage of being trained under the Primate's\neye; and Mr. Kerr who was also ordained about ten months ago.\n\n'I give 100 pounds to a clergyman when ordained, increasing it\n101 annually to a maximum of 150 pounds. But this depends upon\nsubscriptions, &c. I could not pledge myself even to this, except in the\ncase of a man very highly recommended. But of this I will write more.\n\n'Again let me say that I do not want anyone yet, not this year. I shall\nbe off again (D.V.) in the beginning of May 1863, for six months; and\nif then I find on my return (D.V.) in November, letters from you, either\nasking me to write with reference to any young man, or informing me that\none is on the way out, that will be quite soon enough.\n\n'I need not say I don't expect any such help so soon, if at all.\n\n'Finally, pray don't think that I underrate the great advantage of\nhaving such persons as St. Mark's produces; but I write guardedly. My\nkind love to Mrs. Derwent.\n\n'Affectionately yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nOn the 29th of December, after two pages of affectionate remarks on\nvarious family incidents, the letter proceeds:--\n\n'We are having an extra scrubbing in preparation for our visitors on\nThursday, who may wish to be with us on the occasion of the baptism of\nour six Banks Islanders; and I am writing in the midst of it, preferring\nto sit in the schoolroom to my own room, which is very tiny and very\nhot.\n\n'We have some eight only out of the fifty-one whom I am obliged to treat\nrather as an awkward squad, not that they are too stupid to learn, but\nthat we cannot give them the individual attention that is necessary.\nThey teach me their language; but I cannot put them into any class where\nthey could be regularly taught--indeed, they are not young fellows\nwhom I should bring again. They do the work of introducing us to their\nislands, and of teaching us something of their language. So I continue\nto give them what little time I can--the real strength of our force\nbeing given to those whom we hope to have here again.\n\n'We are all on the qui vive about our beautiful vessel, hoping to see it\nin about six or eight weeks. It will, please God, be for years the great\nmeans by which we may carry on the Mission if we live; and all the care\nthat has been spent upon it has been well spent, you may be sure.\n\n'I don't want to appear as if I expected this to be done in one sense,\nbut it is only when I think of the personal interest shown in it that I\nsuppose it right to thank people much. I don't want it to be thought of\nany more than you do as a gift to us particular missionaries. It is the\nChurch carrying on its own work. Yet, as you truly say, private feelings\nand interests are not to be treated rudely; and I do think it a\nvery remarkable thing that some 2,000 pounds should be raised by\nsubscriptions, especially when one knows that so very few people have an\nidea of the work that is being done.'\n\n'What a blessed New Year's rejoicing in hope here follows:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama: Jan. 1, 1863.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--The first letter of the year to you! Thank God for\nbringing us to see it! It is 1 P.M., and at 4.30 P.M. six dear children\n(from twenty-two to fourteen) are to be baptized. Everything in one\nsense is done; how very little in the other and higher sense! May\nAlmighty God pour the fulness of His blessing upon them! I sit and look\nat them, and my heart is too full for words. They sit with me, and\nbring their little notes with questions that they scarcely dare trust\nthemselves to speak about. You will thank God for giving me such\ncomfort, such blessings, and such dear children. How great a mercy it\nis! How unexpected! May God make me humble and patient through it all!\n\n'What a sight it would be for you four hours hence! Our party of\nsixty-one, visitors from Auckland, the glorious day, and the holy\nservice, for which all meet.\n\n'I use Proper Psalms, 89, 96, 126, 145, and for lessons a few verses, 2\nKings v. 9-15, and Acts viii. 35-9. After the third Collect, the Primate\nmay say a few words, or I may do so; and then I shall use our usual\nMelanesian Collect for many islands, very briefly named; and so conclude\nwith the Blessing.\n\n'What this is to me you must try and realise, that you may be partakers\nof my joy and thankfulness. To have Christians about me, to whom I can\nspeak with a certainty of being understood, to feel that we are all\nbound together in the blessed Communion of the Body of Christ, to know\nthat angels on high are rejoicing and evil spirits being chased away,\nthat all the Banks Islands and all Melanesia are experiencing, as it\nwere, the first shock of a mighty earthquake, that God who foresees the\nend may, in his merciful Providence, be calling even these very children\nto bear His message to thousands of heathens, is not it too much?\nOne's heart is not large enough for it, and confession of one's own\nunworthiness breaks off involuntarily into praise and glory!\n\n'I know, my dear Sisters, that this is most likely one of the great\nblessings that precede great trials. I can't expect or wish (perhaps)\nalways to sail with a fair wind, yet I try to remember that trial must\ncome, without on that account restraining myself from a deep taste of\nthe present joy. I can't describe it!\n\n'Then we have now much that we ever can talk about--deep talk about Mota\nand the other islands, and the special temptations to which they must\nbe exposed; that now is the time when the devil will seek with all his\nmight to \"have\" them, and so hinder God's work in the land; that they\nhave been specially blest by God to be the first to desire to know His\nwill, and that they have heavy responsibilities.\n\n'\"Yes,\" they say, \"we see man does not know that his room is dirty and\nfull of cobwebs while it is all dark; and another man, whose room is not\nhalf so dirty, because the sun shines into it and shows the dirt, thinks\nhis room much worse than the other. That is like our hearts. It is worse\nnow to be angry than it was to shoot a man a long time ago. But the more\nthe sun shines in, the more we shall find cobwebs and dirt, long after\nwe thought the room was clean. Yes, we know what that means. We asked\nyou what would help us to go on straight in the path, now that we are\nentering at the gate. We said prayer, love, helping our countrymen. Now\nwe see besides watchfulness, self-examination; and then you say we must\nat once look forward to being confirmed, as the people you confirmed\nat Norfolk Island. Then there is the very great thing, the holy and the\ngreat, the Supper of the Lord.\" So, evening by evening and day by day,\nwe talk, this being of course not called school, being, indeed, my great\nrelaxation, for this is the time when they are like children with a\nfather.\n\n'I know I feel it so. Don't take the above as a fair sample of our\ntalk, for the more solemn words we say about God's Love, Christ's\nIntercession, and the Indwelling of the Spirit, I can hardly write down\nnow.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.\n\n'P.S.--Feast of the Epiphany. Those dear children were baptized on\nThursday. A most solemn interesting scene it was!'\n\nThoroughly happy indeed was the Bishop at this time. In a note of\nFebruary 3 to the Bishop of Wellington, he speaks of the orderly state\nof the College:--\n\n'Mr. Pritt has made a complete change in the Melanesian school, very\nproperly through me; not putting himself forward, but talking with\nme, suggesting, accepting suggestions, giving the benefit of his great\nknowledge of boys and the ways to educate them. All the punctuality,\norder, method, &c., are owing to him; and he is so bright and hearty,\nthoroughly at ease with the boys, and they with him.'\n\nThe same note announces two more recruits--Mr. John Palmer, a\ntheological student at St. John's, and Joseph Atkin, the only son of a\nsettler in the neighbourhood, who had also held a scholarship there.\nHe had gained it in 1860, after being educated at the Taranaki Scotch\nSchool and the Church of England Grammar School at Parnell, and his\nabilities were highly thought of. The Bishop says:--\n\n'Joe Atkin, you will be glad to hear, has joined us on probation till\nnext Christmas, but he is very unlikely to change his mind. He and his\nfather have behaved in a very straightforward manner. I am not at all\nanxious to get fellows here in a hurry. The Norfolk Islanders, e.g., are\nin need of training much more than our best Melanesians, less useful as\nteachers, cooks, even as examples. This will surprise you, but it is so.\n\n'I have long suspected that Joe thought about joining us. He tells me,\n\"You never would give me a chance to speak to you, Sir.\"\n\n\"Quite true, Joe; I wished the thought to work itself out in your own\nmind, and then I thought it right to speak first to your father.\"\n\n'I told him that I could offer but \"a small and that an uncertain\nsalary\" should he be ordained five years hence; and that he ought to\nthink of that, that there was nothing worldly in his wishing to secure\na maintenance by-and-by for wife and child, and that I much doubted my\npower to provide it. But this did not at all shake either his father or\nhim. I have a great regard for the lad, and I know you have.'\n\nFrom that time forward reading with and talking with 'Joe Atkin' was one\nof the chief solaces of the Bishop's life, though at present the young\nman was only on trial, and could not as yet fill the place of Mr.\nBenjamin Dudley, who, soon after the voyage, married, and returned to\nCanterbury settlement. The loss was felt, as appears in the following:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama; Saturday, 1 P.M., Feb. 7, 1863.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--I have a heavy cold, so you must expect a stupid\nletter. I am off in an hour or two for a forty-mile ride, to take\nto-morrow's services (four) among soldiers and settlers. The worst of it\nis that I have no chance of sleep at the end, for the mosquitos near the\nriver are intolerable. How jolly it would be, nevertheless, if you were\nhere, and strong enough to make a sort of picnic ride of it. I do it\nthis way: strap in front of the saddle a waterproof sheet, with my silk\ngown, Prayer-book, brush and comb, razor and soap, a clean tie, and\na couple of sea biscuits. Then at about 3 P.M. off I go. About twenty\nmiles or so bring me to Papakura, an ugly but good road most of the way.\nHere there is an inn. I stop for an hour and a half, give the horse a\ngood feed, and have my tea. At about 7.30 or 8 I start again, and ride\nslowly along a good road this dry weather. The moon rises at 9.30,\nand by that time I shall be reaching the forest, through which a good\nmilitary road runs. This is the part of the road I should like to show\nyou. Such a night as this promises to be! It will be beautiful. About 11\nI reach a hut made of reeds on the very brink of the river, tether the\nhorse, give him a feed, which I carry with me from Papakura, light a\nfire (taking matches) inside the hut, and try to smoke away mosquitos,\nlie down in your plaid, Joan--do you remember giving it to me?--and get\nwhat sleep I can. To-morrow I work my way home again, the fourth service\nbeing at Papakura at 4 P.M., so I ought to be at Kohimarama by 9 P.M.,\ndead tired I expect. I think these long days tire me more than they did;\nand I really do see not a few white hairs, a dozen or so, this is quite\nright and respectable.\n\n'I am writing now because I am tired with this cold, but chiefly because\nwhen I write only for the mail I send you such wretched scrawls, just\nbusiness letters, or growls about something or other which I magnify\ninto a grievance. But really, dear Joan and Fan, I do like much writing\nto you; only it is so very seldom I can do so, without leaving undone\nsome regular part of the day's work. I am quite aware that you want to\nknow more details about my daily life, and I really wish to supply them;\nbut then I am so weary when I get a chance of writing, that I let my\nmind drift away with my pen, instead of making some effort to write\nthoughtfully. How many things I should like to talk about, and which I\nought to write about: Bishops Mackenzie and Colenso, the true view of\nwhat heathenism is, Church government, the real way to hope to get at\nthe mass of heathens at home, the need of a different education in some\nrespects for the clergy, &c. But I have already by the time I begin to\nwrite taken too much out of myself in other ways to grapple with\nsuch subjects, and so I merely spin out a yarn about my own special\ndifficulties and anxieties.\n\n'Don't mind my grumbling. I think that it is very ungrateful of me to\ndo so, when, this year especially, I am receiving such blessings; it is\npartly because I am very much occupied, working at high pressure, partly\nbecause I do not check my foolish notions, and let matters worry me. I\ndon't justify it a bit; nor must you suppose that because I am very busy\njust now, I am really the worse for it. The change to sea life will\nset me all to rights again; and I feel that much work must be done in a\nlittle time, and a wise man would take much more pains than I do to keep\nhimself in a state fit to do it.\n\n'I have told you about our manner of life here. Up at 5, when I go round\nand pull the blankets, not without many a joke, off the sleeping boys,\nmany of the party are already up and washing. Then, just before prayers,\nI go into the kitchen and see that all is ready for breakfast. Prayers\nat 5.45 in English, Mota, Baura, &c., beginning with a Mota Hymn, and\nending with the Lord's Prayer in English. Breakfast immediately after:\nat our table Mr. Pritt, Mr. Kerr, and young Atkin who has just joined\nus. At the teachers' table, five Norfolk Islanders, Edward (a Maori),\nfive girls and two of their husbands, and the three girls being placed\nat this table because they are girls; Melanesians at the other three\ntables indiscriminately. There are four windows, one at the north, three\nat the east side. The school and chapel, in one long modern building,\nform the corresponding wing on the eastern side of my little room, and\nthe boys dormitories between.\n\n'We are daily expecting the vessel, though it will be a quick passage\nfor her if she comes in the next ten days, and then what a bustle!\n\n'We send Dudley and his wife away to Canterbury for eight or nine\nmonths; he is so weak as to make the change, which I had urged him to\ntry for some time past, quite necessary.\n\n'Next Sunday a Confirmation at Orehunga, eight miles off; back to\nAuckland for catechising and Baptism at 3 p.m. and evening service at\n6.30, and never a word of either sermon written, and all the school\nwork! Never mind, a good growl to you is a fine restorative, and really\nI get on very well somehow.\n\n'Well, good-bye, you dear Sisters,\n\n'Your affectionate Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nOn the last day of February came the new 'Southern Cross,' and two\ndelightful notes announced it to the Vicar of Hursley and to myself in\none envelope.\n\n\n'St. Andrew's: Feb. 28, 1863.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--The \"Southern Cross\" arrived safely this morning.\nThanks to God!\n\n'What it is to us even you can hardly tell; I know not how to pour out\nmy thankfulness. She seems admirably adapted for the work. Mr. Tilly's\nreport of her performance is most satisfactory: safe, fast, steers well,\nand very manageable. Internal arrangements very good; after cabin too\nluxurious, but then that may be wanted for sick folk, and as it is\nluxurious, why I shall get a soft bed, and take to it very kindly.\n\n'Pray let dear Mr. Keble and Dr. Moberly know at once how very happy\nand thankful I am for this blessing. I know all you good friends at home\nwill try to picture to yourselves my delight as I jumped on board!\n\n'The boys are, of course, wild with excitement. It is blowing very hard.\nLast night (when we were thinking of them) it was an anxious night for\nthem close on the coast.\n\n'I have no time to write more. I thought of Lady... as I looked at\nthe chronometers and instruments, and of you all as I looked at the\nbeautiful vessel slipping along through the water with scarce a stitch\nof canvas. I pray that she may be spared many years to the Mission,\nand that we may have grace to use her, as she ought to be used, to His\nglory.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Bishop.\n\n'You know that you are daily remembered in our prayers. God bless you.'\n\n\n'10.30 P.M., March 1, 1863.\n\n'My dear Mr. Keble,--One line, though on Sunday night, to tell you of\nthe safe arrival of the \"Southern Cross.\" You have a large share in her,\nand she has a large share in your good wishes and prayers, I am sure.\n\n'Solemn thoughts on this day, an Ordination Sunday, mingle with the joy\nat the coming of this messenger (I trust of mercy and peace). I need not\nask you to pray continually for us, for I know you do so. But indeed,\nnow is the time when we seem especially to need your prayers.\n\n'The lads have no lack of intellectual capacity, they not unfrequently\nsurprise me. Now is the time when they are in the receptive state, and\nnow especially any error on our part may give a wrong direction to\nthe early faith of thousands! What an awful thought! We are their only\nteachers, the only representatives of Christianity among them. How\ninexpressibly solemn and fearful! This is the thought so perpetually\npresent to me. The training of the future missionaries of Melanesia\nis, by God's Providence, placed in our hands. No wonder that I feel\nsometimes overwhelmed at the thought!\n\n'But I know that if God gives me grace to become more simple-minded and\nhumble, He will order even this aright. You I know will pray more than\never for me. My kindest regards to Mrs. Keble; I hope she is better.\n\n'Your affectionate and grateful young Friend,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nBefore the first joy of the arrival was over, ere the 'Southern Cross'\ncould make her first voyage among the multitude of isles, a great\ncalamity had fallen upon St. Andrew's. Whether it was from the large\nnumbers, or the effect of the colder climate, or from what cause\ncould not be told, but a frightful attack of dysentery fell upon the\nMelanesians, and for several weeks suffering and death prevailed among\nthem. How Bishop Patteson tended them during this time can be better\nguessed than described.\n\nArchdeacon Lloyd, who came to assist in the cares of the small party of\nclergy, can find no words to express the devotion with which the Bishop\nnursed them, comforting and supporting them, never shrinking from the\nmost repulsive offices, even bearing out the dead silently at night,\nlest the others should see and be alarmed.\n\nStill no mail, except during the voyages, had ever left New Zealand\nwithout a despatch for home; and time was snatched in the midst of all\nthis distress for a greeting, in the same beautiful, clear minute hand\nas usual:--\n\n\n'Hospital, St. Andrew's: Saturday night, 9 P.M., March 22, 1863.\n\n'My dearest Brother and Sister,--I write from the dining hall (now our\nhospital), with eleven Melanesians lying round me in extremity of peril.\nI buried two to-day in one grave, and I baptized another now dying by my\nside.\n\n'God has been pleased in His wisdom and mercy to send upon us a terrible\nvisitation, a most virulent form of dysentery. Since this day fortnight\nI have scarce slept night or day, but by snatching an hour here and\nthere; others are working quite as hard, and all the good points of our\nMelanesian staff are brought out, as you may suppose.\n\n'The best medical men cannot suggest any remedy. All remedies have been\ntried and failed. Every conceivable kind of treatment has been tried\nin vain. There are in the hall (the hospital now) at this moment\neleven--eleven more in the little quadrangle, better, but in as anxious\na state as can be; and two more not at all well.\n\n'I have sent all the rest on board to be out of the way of contagion.\nHow we go on I scarce know.... My good friend, Mr. Lloyd, is here,\ngiving great help; he is well acquainted with sickness and a capital\nnurse.\n\n'I have felt all along that it would be good for us to be in trouble;\nwe could not always sail with a fair wind, I have often said so, and God\nhas sent the trial in the most merciful way. What is this to the falling\naway of our baptized scholars!\n\n'But it is a pitiful sight! How wonderfully they bear the agony of it.\nNo groaning.\n\n'When I buried those two children to-day, my heart was full, I durst not\nthink, but could only pray and believe and trust in Him. God bless you.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.\n\n'O Lord, correct me, but with judgment!'\n\n\nOn the 25th, two more were dead, and buried without time to make\ncoffins, for thirteen still hung between life and death, while fresh\ncases were sent from on board ship. Mr. Pritt and Mr. Palmer cooked\nnourishing food and prepared rice-water unceasingly; while the others\ntended the sick, and the Primate returned from a journey to give his\neffective aid. On the night of the 30th, a fifth died unexpectedly,\nhaving only been ill a week, the only scholar from Pentecost Island. One\nof these lads, when all hope was over, was wrapped in his white winding\nsheet, carried into the chapel, and there baptized by the Bishop, with\nchoked voice and weeping eyes.\n\nOver those who had not faith enough to justify him in baptizing them, he\nsaid the following prayers as he laid them in their graves:--\n\n'Sentences. Psalms from the Burial Service.\n\n'Forasmuch as it hath pleased Thee, O Almighty God, to take from amongst\nus the souls of these two children committed to our charge, we therefore\ncommit their bodies to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust\nto dust; humbly commending to Thy Fatherly mercy these and all other Thy\nchildren who know not Thee, whom Thou knowest, who art the Father and\nLord of all things in heaven and earth, to whom be all praise and glory,\nwith Thy Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.\nAmen.\n\n'We humbly beseech Thee, most merciful God, to remember for good the\ninhabitants of the islands of Melanesia, and specially we pray God by\nthe grave of these children, for the dwellers in Vanua Lava and Ambrym\nthat Thou wouldest cause the light of the Gospel to shine m their\nhearts. Give unto Thy servants grace in their sight, that we may go\nforth in peace, and return if it be Thy will in safety, to the honour\nand glory of Thy Name, through Jesus Christ our Lord.\n\n'O Almighty God, Father of Mercy, we cry unto Thee in our sorrow and\ndistress, most humbly confessing that we have most justly provoked Thy\nwrath and heavy indignation.\n\n'We know, O Lord, that this is a dispensation of mercy, a gift from\nThee, to be used, as all things may be used to Thy glory. Yet, O Lord,\nsuffer not our unworthiness to hinder Thy work of mercy!\n\n'O Lord, look down from heaven, visit with Thy tender compassion Thy\nchildren lying under Thy hand in grievous sufferings of body. Restore\nthem if it be Thy good pleasure to health and strength, or if it be Thy\ngood will to take them out of this world, receive them to Thy tender\nmercies for His blessed sake who died for all men, Thy Son our Lord.\n\n'Lord's Prayer. Grace.'\n\nThis was written down for use, in great haste, in the same spirit that\nbreathes through the account of the next death: the entry dated on\nColeridge Patteson's thirty-sixth birthday, April 1, 1863, which must\nbe transcribed, though much of the detail of this time of trial has been\nomitted.\n\n'Sosaman died at 9 A.M. this day--a dear lad, one of the Banks\nIslanders, about ten or twelve years old. As usual I was kneeling by\nhim, closing his eyes in death. I can see his poor mother's face now!\nWhat will she say to me? she who knows not the Christian's life in\ndeath! Yet to him, the poor unbaptized child, what is it to him? What\na revelation! Yes, the names he heard at our lips were names of real\nthings and real persons! There is another world! There is a God, a\nFather, a Lord Jesus Christ, a Spirit of holiness, a Love and Glory. So\nlet us leave him, O Father, in Thy hands, who knowest him who knew not\nThee on earth. Thy mercies never fail. Thou hast created all things, and\nfor Thy pleasure they are and were created.\n\n'I washed him, and laid him out as usual in a linen sheet. How white it\nlooked! So much more simple and touching than the coffin--the form just\ndiscernible as it lay where five had lain before; and then I knelt down\nin our little chapel; and, I thank God, I could still bless and praise\nHim in my heart!\n\n'How is it that I don't pray more? I pray in one sense less than\nusual--am not so long on my knees. I hope it is that I am so worn out,\nand so very, very much occupied in tending the sick and dying, but I am\nnot sure.\n\n'Anyhow I am sure that I am learning at terrible cost lessons which, it\nmay be, God would have taught me more gently if I had ears to hear. I\nhave not in all things depended upon Him, and perpetually sought help\nfrom Him.\n\n'Oh that my unworthiness may not hinder His work of mercy!\n\n'If I live, the retrospect of this most solemn time will, I hope,\nbe very useful. I wonder if I ever went through such acute mental\nsuffering, and yet, mind! I feel perfectly hardened at times--quite\ndevoid of sensibility.'\n\nHe said in another letter that he felt that if he relaxed his\nself-command for one moment he should entirely break down. To him\nwriting to his beloved home was what speaking, nay, almost thinking,\nwould be in another man; it gave an outlet to his feeling, and security\nof sympathy. There was something in his spiritual nature that gave him\nthe faculty of realising the Communion of Saints in its fullest sense,\nboth with those on earth and in Paradise; and, above all, with his\nHeavenly Father, so that he seems as complete an example as ever lived\nof the reality of that privilege, in which too often we only express our\nbelief.\n\nSosaman's was the last death. On a fragment of pink paper, bearing the\ndate of the next day, it is declared that an alleviation in the worst\nsymptoms had taken place, and that the faces and eyes were less haggard.\n'Oh! if it be God's will to grant us now a great deliverance, all glory\nbe to Him!'\n\nThe deliverance was granted. The next mail brought tidings of\ngladness:--\n\n\n'St. Andrew's: April 17, 1863.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--You know the calm yet weary feeling that succeeds\nto the period of intense anxiety and constant watchfulness. Six dear\nchildren are taken from us, as you know already. Some twenty-one others\nhave been very ill, nigh unto death. Two or three are still weak, but\ndoing well.\n\n'All the rest are convalescent. Oh! I look at them, to see the loving\nbright smile again on their poor wan faces. I don't mind breaking\ndown now; yet I have experienced no decided reaction; only I am very\nindolent, like one who, for six weeks, has not had his usual allowance\nof sleep. What abundant cause we have for thankfulness! All the many\nhours that I spent in that atmosphere, and yet not a whit the worse for\nit. What a sight it was! What scenes of suffering! There seemed to be no\nend to it; and yet there was always strength for the immediate work in\nhand. Tending twenty-four sick, after hurrying back from burying two\ndear lads in one grave, or with a body lying in its white sheet in the\nchapel; and once, after a breathless watch of two hours, while they all\nslept the sleep of opium, for we dared almost anything to obtain some\nrest, stealing at dead of night across the room to the figure wrapped so\nstrangely in its blanket, and finding it cold and stiff, while one dying\nlay close by. It has been a solemn time indeed. And now the brightness\nseems to be coming back.\n\n'I have not yet ceased to think of the probable consequences; but,\nspeaking somewhat hastily, I do not think that this will much retard the\nwork. I may have to use some extra caution in some places--e.g., one of\nthe two first lads brought from Ambrym is dead: one lad, the only one\never brought from the middle of Whitsuntide Island, is dead; I must be\ncareful there. The other four came from Mota, Matlavo, Vanua Lava (W.\nside), and Guadalcanar; for the six who died came from six islands.\n\n'One dear lad, Edmund Quintal, sixteen or seventeen years old, was for a\nwhile in a critical state. Fisher Young, a little older, was very unwell\nfor three or four days. They came from Norfolk Island.\n\n'The last six weeks have been very unhealthy. We had an unusually hot\ndry summer--quite a drought; the wells, for example, were never so\ntried. There was also an unusual continuance of north-east winds--our\nsultry close wind. And when the dry weather broke up, the rain and damp\nweather continued for many days. Great sickness prevailed in Auckland\nand the country generally.\n\n'The Norfolk Islanders, now four in number--Edwin Nobbs, Gilbert\nChristian, Fisher Young, and Edmund Quintal--have behaved excellently.\nOh, how different I was at their age! It is pleasant, indeed, to see\nthem so very much improved; they are so industrious, so punctual, so\nconscientious. The fact seems to be that they wanted just what I do hope\nthe routine of our life has supplied--careful supervision, advice, and,\nwhen needed, reproof. They had never had any training at all.\n\n'But there was something better--religious feeling--to work on! and the\nlife here has, by God's blessing, developed the good in them. I am very\nhopeful about then now. Not, mind! that any one of them has a notion\nof teaching, but they are acquiring habits which will enable them to be\ngood examples in all points of moral conduct to those of the Melanesians\nwho are not already like B----, &c. The head work will come by-and-by, I\ndare say.\n\n'April 22.--The storm seems to have passed, though one or two are still\nvery weak. But there are no active symptoms of disease. How mercifully\nGod has dealt with us! I have been very seedy for a few days, and am so\nstill. In spite of two teeth taken out a fortnight ago, my whole jaw has\nbeen paining me much, heavy cold, and I can't get good sleep by reason\nof the pain, and I want sleep much. I think I must go to the dentist\nagain. You see we hope to sail in ten days or so, and I want to be well.\n\n'We have just washed and scrubbed the hall thoroughly, and once again it\nceases to be our hospital. That looks bright, does not it? You must let\nall friends know about us, for I shall not be able to write to many, and\nperhaps I shall not have time to write at all. In the midst of all\nthis, I have so much work about the management of the Mission farm and\nproperty, and the St. John's College estate, and educational prospects.'\n\nThe 'Southern Cross' was at sea again on May 2, and approved herself\nentirely to her owners' satisfaction.\n\nMoreover, another clergyman had come on board for a trial trip, the\nRev. Robert Codrington, a Fellow of Wadham, Oxford, who brought the\nUniversity culture which was no small personal pleasure to Bishop\nPatteson in the companion of his labours. So that the staff consisted of\nMr. Pritt, Mr. Kerr, Mr. Codrington, Mr. Palmer and Mr. Atkin, besides\nMr. Tilly, whose management of the vessel left the Bishop free from\ncares whenever his knowledge of the coast was not needed. Some of the\nresults of his leisure on the outward voyage here appear:--\n\n'I am glad I have read the accounts which Bishop Mackenzie's sister sent\nme. I know more about it now. Work and anxiety and necessity for action\nall came upon them so rapidly, that there was but little time for\nforming deliberate plans. I can well realise the finding oneself\nsurrounded with a hundred poor creatures, diseased and hungered, the\nmultitude of questions how to feed, lodge, and clothe them. How far\nit is right to sanction their mode of life, &c. One thing I am glad to\nnotice, that the Bishop abstained from all attempts to convey religious\ninstruction, because he was not sufficiently acquainted with the\nlanguage to know what ideas he might or might not be suggesting.\nThat was wise, and yet how unlike many hot-headed men, who rush with\nunintentional irreverence into very dangerous experiments.\n\n'I confess, as you know, that there seems to me far too cumbrous and\nexpensive and talkative a method employed in England, for raising\nsupplies for that Mission and Columbia, Honolulu, &c. I never think\nof all that fuss of the four Universities, and all the meetings and\nspeeches, without some shame. But united action will come in the\ntrain of real synodical action; and if I understand aright, the last\nConvocation of Canterbury accepted all that we are trying for, taking\nthe right view in the question of Provinces, Metropolitans, position of\nColonial Churches, joint action of the Church at large, &c. Extension of\nEpiscopate in England. Oh, thanks be to God for it all. What a work for\nthis branch of the Catholic Church! How can people sit quiet, not give\ntheir all!\n\n'I like very much Vaughan's work on the Epistle to the Romans. That\nis the book to teach young students how to read their Greek Testament.\nAccurate scholarship, no private notions imported into the Greek text.\nI should like to hear Mr. Keble speak about the law underlying the\nsuperstitions of heathenism, the way to deal with the perversions of\ntruth, &c. Somehow I get to marvel at and love that first book of Hooker\nmore and more. It is wonderful. It goes to the bottom of the matter; and\nthen at times it gives one to see something of the Divine wisdom of the\nBible as one never saw it before.\n\n'But I fear that I seek too much after a knowledge and understanding of\nprinciples of action which are attainable by a scholar and man of real\nreasoning power, but which I am not able to make of practical use,\nhaving neither the brains nor the goodness. This is what I really mean.\n\n'May 20th.--Any really good book on the New Testament, especially\ndealing critically with the Greek text, I certainly wish to have. I\nfeel that the great neglect of us clergy is the neglect of the continual\nstudy most critically and closely of the grammatical meaning of the\nHebrew and Greek texts. Oh! that in old days I had made myself a good\nscholar! Oh! that I did really know Hebrew and Greek well! What a\nblessing and delight it would be now! I fear that I shall never be\na good Hebrew scholar, I can't make time for it; but a decent Greek\nscholar I hope to be. I work away, but alas I for want of time, only by\nfits and starts, at grammars, and such a book as Vaughan's \"Epistle to\nthe Romans,\" an excellent specimen of the way to give legitimate help to\nthe student. Trench's books I delight in. The Revision by Five Clergymen\nis an assistance. There was a review in the Quarterly the other day on\nthe Greek Testament, very nearly an excellent one. The ordinary use of\nfolio commentaries I don't wish to depreciate, but I think it far less\nvaluable than the diligent study for oneself with the best grammatical\naids of the original text. I always assume an acquaintance with the\ntrue mind and spirit of the Church of England as a substratum of\ninterpretation. I like Westcott's book on the \"Introduction to the Study\nof the Gospels.\"\n\n'Oh! why, when I sat evening after evening with our dear Father, did\nI not ask him on all these points much more than I did? He did talk\nof such things! But I suppose it is partly the impulse given to such\nstudies by the tendency of present religious thought. Yet ought it not\nto have been always put forward at Eton and Oxford that the close study\nof the text of the Bible is the first duty of a Christian scholar.\nI never really thought of it till I came out here, and then other\noccupations crowded upon me, and so it was too late to make myself a\nscholar. Alas!\n\n'Now I really think nothing is so great a relaxation tome as a good book\nby Trench, or Vaughan, or Ellicott, or Dr. Pusey, and I do enjoy it.\nNot that I can keep up my attention for very long so as to make it\nprofitable, but even then it is delightful, only I must go over it\nagain, and so it is perhaps time wasted.\n\n'But I greatly miss the intimate friend with whom to fix what I read by\nconversation and communication of mutual difficulties in understanding\npassages. I don't often forget points on which the Judge and I have had\na talk, but what I read by myself I read too quickly, and forget. I want\nto fix it by subsequent discussion and enquiry with a competent friend.\nIf I have intelligent young men to read with, that will almost do,\nit will easily help me to remember what I have read. It won't be\nsuggestive, like the Judge's conversation; yet if one tries to teach\nconscientiously one does learn a great deal. I am puzzled as to books\nfor my Norfolk Islanders. I should like much the \"Conversations on the\nCatechism.\" Are they published separately? Shall I ask Miss Yonge to\ngive me a copy? And the \"Plain Commentary\" would be useful too, if\n(which I doubt) it is plain enough.'\n\n\n'\"Southern Cross:\" May 9, 1863.\n\n'My dear Joan,--You ask me about qualifications which a man had better\npossess for this Mission, so perhaps I had better ask you to enquire of\ncousin Derwent Coleridge and of Ernest Hawkins for letters written to\nthem some six months ago in which (if I remember rightly) I succeeded\nas well as I am likely to do now in describing the class of men I should\nlike some day to have. I dare say they have not kept the letters, I\nforgot that, because although they took me some little time to write,\nthey may have chucked them away naturally enough. Still if they have\nthem and can find them, it may be worth while for you to keep a copy by\nyou to show to any person who wishes for information.\n\n'It is not necessary at all that a man should have a taste for languages\nor a faculty of acquiring them. What I want now is not a linguist, but a\nwell-trained school-master of black boys and men, who will also put his\nhand to any kind of work--a kindly, gentle, cheerful, earnest fellow,\nwho will make light of all little inconveniences, such as necessarily\nattend sea life, &c., who is so much of a gentleman that he can afford\nto do any kind of work without being haunted by the silly thought that\nit \"is beneath him,\" \"not his business.\" That is the fellow for me. He\nwould have to learn one language, the language of the particular class\ngiven over to him, and I think that a person of any moderate ability\nmight soon do this with our teaching. If I could get him to take an\ninterest in the general science of language and to go into philological\npoints, of course his work would be lighter, and he would have soon the\nadvantage of knowing dialects cognate to that which he must know. But\nthat is not necessary.\n\n'The real thing is to train a certain number of lads in habits of\nattention, punctuality, tidiness, &c., to teach them also upon a plan,\nwhich I should show him, to read and write. The religious instruction I\nshould take, and the closer investigation of the language too, unless he\nshowed a capacity for going into the nicer points of structure, &c.\n\n'But somehow a cut and dried teaching machine of a man, however\nmethodical, and good, and conscientious, won't do. There must be a\nvivacity, an activity of mind, a brightness about the man, so that a\nlesson shall never be mere drudgery; in short, there must be a real love\nin the heart for the scholars, that is the qualification.\n\n'One man and one only I hope to have some day who ought to be able to\nlearn scraps at least of many languages, but he will have a different\nwork to do. No work can be considered to be satisfactorily carried on\nwhile it depends on the life of any one man. Someone to take my place\nwill come, I hope, some day. He would have to go round the islands with\nme, and acquire a knowledge of the whole field of work--the wading and\nswimming, the mode of dealing with fellows on a first meeting, &c.; he\nwill not only have one class to look after, but he must learn the same\nkind of lesson that I learnt under the Primate. Where to get such a\nman, I'm sure I don't know. He must be of standing and ability to be\nacceptable to the others should I die, &c., &c.\n\n'So we need not speculate about him, and the truth is, I am not in any\nhurry to get men from home. We are educating ourselves lads here who\nwill very likely learn to do this kind of work fairly well. Mr. Palmer\nwill, I hope, be ordained at Christmas. Young Atkin will be useful some\nday. By-and-by if I can get one or two really first-rate men, it will\nindeed be a great thing. But who knows anything of me in England? I\ndon't expect a really able man to come out to work with me. They will go\nto other parts of the world kept more before the notice of the public by\ncommittees and meetings and speeches, &c.; and indeed I am very thankful\nfor it. I am not old nor wise enough to be at the head of a party of\nreally able men. I must be more fit to lead before I can ask men to\nfollow.\n\n'Of course I know that the work, if I chose to speak out, is second to\nnone in interest and importance, and that very little comparatively is\nknown about it in England. But it is evidently far better that it should\ngo quietly on without attracting much notice, and that we all should\nremain unknown at all events at present. By-and-by, when by God's\nblessing things are more ripe for definite departments of work, and\nmen can have distinct duties at once assigned to them, and our mode of\ncarrying on the Mission has been fairly tested, then it will be high\ntime to think about first-rate men.\n\n'And, presumptuous and strange as it may seem for me to say it, a man\nconfessedly second-rate, unfit to hold a position with the best stamp of\nEnglish clergymen, I had rather not have. I can get the material cheaper\nand made to my own hand out here.\n\n'Some men are dull though good, others can't get away from their book\nlife and the proprieties, others are donnish, others are fine gentlemen,\nothers are weak in health, most have preconceived and, many, mistaken\nviews about heathenism, and the way to deal with it; some would come out\nwith the notion that England and English clergymen were born to set the\ncolonies right.\n\n'How few would say, \"There's a young man for the Bishop, only a\nsecond-class man, no scholar, not remarkable in any way, but he has\nlearnt his work in a good school, and will go out to him with the\npurpose of seeing how he carries on the work, and learning from him.\" I\ndon't expect men worth anything to say this. Of course I don't; and\nyet you know, Joan, I can't take them on any other terms. No, I prefer\ntaking promising lads here, and training them up, not with any pledge\nthat I will employ them in the Mission, but with the promise of giving\nthem every chance of becoming qualified for it.'\n\nThe voyage was much shorter than had been intended, and its history is\nbest summed up here:--\n\n\n'\"Southern Cross,\" Kohimarama: Aug. 6, 1863.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--This date, from this place, will surprise you. We\nreturned yesterday, after a short voyage of only three months. I had\narranged my plans for a long voyage, hoping to revisit all our known\nislands, and that more than once. We sailed to Norfolk Island, thence\nat once to Mota. I spent two days there, and left the Rev. L. Pritt in\ncharge of the station; Mr. Palmer being with him and the four Norfolk\nIslanders, and several old scholars.\n\n'I spent a fortnight in the Banks Archipelago, returning some scholars,\nand taking away others from divers islands; and then went back to Mota,\nbringing some sixteen or seventeen lads to the central school. I found\nthem all pretty well; the whole island at peace, people moving about\neverywhere unarmed, and a large school being gathered together.\n\n'I went off again to the south (the New Hebrides group), returning\nscholars who had been in New Zealand, purchasing yams for axes and iron,\n&c., to supply the large number of scholars at Mota. The season had been\nunfavourable, and the crop of yams in some islands had almost failed.\nHowever, in another fortnight I was again at Mota with some six or seven\ntons of yams. I found things lamentably changed. A great mortality\nwas going on, dysentery and great prostration of strength from severe\ninfluenza.\n\n'But of those not actually boarding at the station, the state was very\nsad indeed. About twenty-five adults were dead already, several of them\nregular attendants at school, of whom we were very hopeful.\n\n'I spent two days and a half in going about the island, the wet\nincessant, the ground steaming and reeking with vegetable exhalations.\nDuring those days twenty-seven adults died, fifty-two in all, and many,\nmany more were dying, emaciated, coughing, fainting; no constitutional\nvigour of body, nor any mutton broth, or beef tea, or jellies, or\nchickens, or wine, &c. Mr. Pritt did what he could, and more than\nI thought could have been done; but what could be done? How could\nnourishing food be supplied to dozens of invalids living miles off,\nrefusing to obey directions in a country which supplies no food to rally\nthe strength of persons in illness?\n\n'I decided to remove the whole party at once, explaining to the people\nthat we were not afraid to share with them the risk of dying, but that\nif Mr. Pritt and the others died, there were no teachers left. I felt\nthat our Banks Island scholars must be removed, and that at once lest\nthey should die. I could not send the vessel to the Solomon Islands\nwithout me, for Mr. Tilly was completely laid up and unable to move from\nrheumatic gout, and no one else on board knows those languages.\n\n'I could not leave the party at Mota in the sickness, and I could not\nwell send the vessel to Port Patteson for a time, for the danger was\nimminent. So I took them all away, in all thirty-nine.\n\n'But now the vessel was full, more than sixty on board, and I had\nreckoned upon an empty vessel in the hot Santa Cruz and Solomon Island\nlatitudes. Moreover, the weather was extraordinarily unfavourable--damp,\nfoul winds, squalls, calms, unhealthy weather. Mr. Tilly was being\ngreatly pulled down, and everything seemed to point out that the voyage\nought not to be long. I made my mind up, took back the Solomon Island\nscholars; and, with heavy sea and baffling winds and one short gale,\nsailed back to New Zealand.\n\n'How mysteriously our plans are overruled for good! I came back to hear\nof the war; and to learn to be thankful for my small, very young and\nvery manageable party. Thirty-three Banks Islanders, the baptized party\nand select lads from their islands, one New Caledonian, four Ysabel\nlads, constitute this summer's Melanesian school.\n\n'Don't be disappointed; I was at first, but I had the comfort of having\nreally no alternative. I had, indeed, a great desire to make a thorough\nvisitation of Leper's Island, and Santa Cruz especially; but the wind,\nusually so fair, was dead against me, we had, so to speak, no trade\nwinds, and I had to give it up. It was certainly my duty to get to the\nsouth with my invalids as soon as I could, and alter my plans, which,\nyou know, always are made with a view to divers modifications being\nrendered necessary.\n\n'Training the baptized scholars, and putting into shape such knowledge\nas I have of Melanesian tongues, that made a good summer programme, as\nI was obliged to content myself with a small party gathered from but few\nislands. Concentration v. diffusion I soon began to think a very good\nthing.\n\n'Well, so it is, and now I see great reason to be thankful. Why do we\nnot always give thanks whether we see the reason or not?\n\n'The vessel behaves admirably. I have written to Jem at length, and he\nmust be applied to for my account of her. Pray tell Mr. Keble all this.\nI have a most valuable letter from Dr. Moberly, a great delight and\nhonour to me. It is very kind of him to write; and his view of Church\nmatters is really invaluable, no papers can give that which his letter\ngives, and only he and a very few others could give an opinion which I\nso greatly value. He speaks hopefully of Church matters in general, and\nthere are great reasons surely for thankfulness and hope.\n\n'Yet men such as he see far and wide, and to their great hearts no very\nviolent storms are caused by such things as sorely trouble others. He\nsees the presumption and weakness, the vain transitory character of that\nphase of modern thought which Bishop Colenso represents, and confidently\nexpects its speedy disappearance. But it does try the earnest, while it\nmakes shipwreck of the frivolous, and exercises the faith and humility\nof all. Even a very poor scholar can see that his reasoning is most\ninconclusive, and his reading superficial and inferences illogical.\n\n'God bless you, my dear Cousin.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nPerhaps this is the fittest place to give Mr. Tilly's description of the\nBishop in his voyages:--\n\n'My acquaintance with the late Bishop Patteson began at Port Patteson,\nin the Banks Islands, in 1861. He went with us in H.M.S. \"Cordelia\" to\nthe Solomon Islands, and after being together some two months we again\nleft him at Port Patteson on our way back to Auckland. During the time\nhe was on board the \"Cordelia\" it was arranged that I was to sail the\nnew vessel (the present \"Southern Cross\"), then about to be built by the\nMessrs. Wigram, and the size, internal arrangements, &c. were told me\nby him. He did not trouble me with much detail, referring me almost\naltogether to Bishop Selwyn--and gave no written directions; the little\nhe said I carefully noted, observing that he spoke as with a thorough\nknowledge of the subject (so far as I could be a judge) as to sea-going\nqualities, capacity, &c., and to the best of my recollection, I found\nthat while the vessel was building these few directions were the main\nones to be kept in view. We entered Auckland harbour (from England)\nearly on the morning of February 28, 1863, and hove to off the North\nHead, to wait for the Bishop coming off from Kohimarama before going up\nthe harbour. It had been blowing hard outside the night before from the\nN.E., and there was still much wind, and some sea, even in the harbour.\nI was much struck by his appearance and manner. Having to launch his\nboat through a surf at Kohimarama beach, he had only on a shirt and\ntrousers, and was of course drenched. He stepped on board more like\na sailor than a clergyman, and almost immediately made one or two\nsailor-like remarks about the vessel, as if he understood her qualities\nas soon as he felt her in motion; and he was quite right in what he\nsaid.\n\n'Before the building of the present vessel he had (I am told) navigated\nat different times to and from the islands; of his capacity in this\nrespect, therefore, others who knew him there can speak. During the time\nI remained in the \"Southern Cross,\" he never in any way, to the best\nof my recollection, interfered in the navigation or management of the\nvessel; but I came to know--almost at once--that his general planning of\na voyage, knowledge of local courses and distances, the method by which\nit could be done most quickly and advantageously, and the time required\nto do it in, were thorough; and, in fact, I suppose, that almost without\nknowing it, in all this I was his pupil, and to the last felt the\ncomfort of his advice or assistance, as, e.g., when looking out together\nfrom aloft he has seen shoal water more quickly than myself, or has\ndecided whether certain doubtful appearances ahead were or were not\nsufficient to make us alter our course, &c.; and always speaking as no\none who was what sailors call a landsman could have done. There was, of\ncourse, always a great deal of boat work, much of it to be done with a\nloaded boat in a seaway, requiring practical knowledge of such matters,\nand I do not remember any accidents, such as staving a boat on a reef,\nswamping, &c. in all those years; and he invariably brought the boat\nout when it was easy for the vessel to pick her up, a matter not\nsufficiently understood by many people. This was where Mr. Atkin's\nusefulness was conspicuous. Mr. Atkin was a fearless boatman, and the\nknowledge of boating he gained with us at sea was well supplemented when\nin Auckland, where he had a boat of his own, which he managed in the\nmost thorough manner, Auckland being at times a rough place for boating.\nHe (Mr. Atkin) pulled a good and strong oar, and understood well how to\nmanage a boat under sail, much better in fact than many sailors (who are\nnot always distinguished in that respect). His energy, and the amount\nof work he did himself were remarkable; his manner was quiet and\nundemonstrative. He took all charge--it may in a manner be said--of\nthe boys on board the vessel, regulated everything concerning meals,\nsleeping arrangements, &c., how much food had to be bought for them at\nthe different islands, what \"trade\" (i.e. hatchets, beads, &c.) it was\nnecessary to get before starting on a voyage, calculated how long our\nsupply of water would last, and in fact did so much on board as left the\nmaster of the vessel little to do but navigate. With regard to the\nloss the Mission has sustained in Mr. Atkin, speaking from my personal\nknowledge of his invaluable services on a voyage, I can safely say\nthere is no one here now fitted to take his place. He had always capital\nhealth at sea, and was rarely sea-sick, almost the only one of the party\nwho did not suffer in that way. And his loss will be the more felt now,\nas those who used to help in the boat are now otherwise employed as\nteachers, &c.; and as Norfolk Island is a bad place to learn boating,\nthere is great need of some one to take his place, for a good boat's\ncrew is a necessity in this work as may be readily understood when the\nboat is away sometimes for the greater part of the day, pulling and\nsailing from place to place. At those places where the Bishop landed\nalone, Mr. Atkin gradually acquired the experience which made him so fit\nto look after the safety of the boat and crew. In this manner he, next\nto the Bishop, became best known to the natives throughout the islands,\nand was always looked for; in fact, at many places they two were perhaps\nonly recognised or remembered.\n\n'Bishop Patteson was hardly what could be called a good sailor in\none sense of the word; rough weather did not suit him, and although I\nbelieve seldom if ever actually sea-sick, he was now and then obliged to\nlie down the greater part of the day, or during bad weather. He used to\nread and write a great deal on board, and liked to take brisk walks\nup and down the deck, talking to whoever happened to be there. He was\norderly and methodical on board, liked to see things in their places,\nand was most simple in all his habits. He always brought a good stock of\nbooks on board (which we all made use of), but very few clothes.\n\n'The living on board was most simple, much the same as the crew,\nthose in the cabin waiting on themselves (carrying no steward), until\ngradually boys used to volunteer to do the washing up, &c. School with\nall the boys was kept up when practicable; but the Bishop was always\nsitting about among them on the deck, talking to one and another, and\nhaving classes with him in the cabin. There were regular morning\nand evening native and English prayers. The sermons on Sundays\nwere specially adapted for the sailors, and listened to with marked\nattention, as indeed they well might be, being so earnest, simple, and\nsuitable.\n\n'Speaking for myself, I used to look forward to the voyage as the time\nwhen I should have the privilege of being much with him for some months.\nWhile on shore at Kohimarama I saw but comparatively little of him,\nexcept at meals; but during the voyage I saw of course a great deal of\nhim, and learned much from him--learned to admire his unselfishness\nand simplicity of mode of life, and to respect his earnestness and\nabilities. His conversation on any subject was free and full; and those\non the few nights when quietly at anchor they could be enjoyed more,\nwill be long remembered. Of his manner to Melanesians, others will, no\ndoubt, say enough, but I may be excused for mentioning one scene that\nvery much struck me, and of which I am now the only (white) one left\nwho was present at it. We were paying a visit for the first time to an\nisland, and--the vessel being safe in the offing--the Bishop asked me if\nI would go with them as he sometimes did on similar occasions. We pulled\nin to a small inner islet among a group, where a number of (say 200)\nnatives were collected on the beach. Seeing they looked as if friendly,\nhe waded on shore without hesitation and joined them; the reception was\nfriendly, and after a time he walked with them along the beach, we in\nthe boat keeping near. After a while we took him into the boat again,\nand lay off the beach a few yards to be clear of the throng, and be able\nto get at the things he wanted to give them, they coming about the boat\nin canoes; and this is the fact I wished to notice--viz., the look on\nhis face while the intercourse with them lasted. I was so struck with\nit, quite involuntarily, for I had no idea of watching for anything of\nthe sort; but it was one of such extreme gentleness, and of yearning\ntowards them. I never saw that look on his face again, I suppose because\nno similar scene ever occurred again when I happened to be with him. It\nwas enough in itself to evoke sympathy; and as we pulled away, though\nthe channel was narrow and winding, yet, as the water was deep, we\ndiscussed the possibility of the schooner being brought in there at some\nfuture time. I am quite aware of my inability to do justice to that side\nof the Bishop's character, of which, owing to the position in which I\nstood to him as master of the Mission vessel, I have been asked to say\na few words. There are others who know far better than myself what his\npeculiar qualifications were. His conduct to me throughout the time\nwas marked by an unvarying confidence of manner and kindliness in our\neveryday intercourse, until, gradually, I came to think I understood\nthe way in which he wished things done, and acted in his absence with\nan assurance of doing his wishes, so far as I could, which I never\nhad attained to before with anyone else, and never shall again. And,\nspeaking still of my own experience, I can safely say the love we grew\nto feel for him would draw such services from us (if such were needed)\nas no fear of anyone's reproof or displeasure ever could do. And perhaps\nthis was the greatest privilege, or lesson, derived from our intercourse\nwith him, that \"Love casteth out fear!\"\n\n'Tiros. CAPEL TILLY.\n\n\n'Auckland: October 28, 1872.'\n\nThis letter to Mr. Derwent Coleridge follows up the subject of the\nrequisites for missionary work:--\n\n\n'\"Southern Cross,\" Kohimarama: August 8, 1863.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--Thank you for a very kind letter which I found here on\nmy return from a short three months' voyage in Melanesia. You will, I am\nsure, give me any help that you can, and a young man trained under your\neye would be surely of great use in this work. I must confess that I\ndistrust greatly the method adopted still in some places of sending out\nmen as catechists and missionaries, simply because they appear to be\nzealous and anxious to engage in missionary work. A very few men, well\neducated, who will really try to understand what heathenism is, and will\nseek, by God's blessing, to work honestly without prejudice and without\nan indiscriminating admiration for all their own national tastes\nand modes of thought--a few such men, agreeing well together and\nco-operating heartily, will probably be enabled to lay foundations for\nan enduring work. I do not at all wish to apply hastily for men--for any\nkind of men--to fill up posts that I shall indeed be thankful to occupy\nwith the right sort of men. I much prefer waiting till it may please\nGod to put it into the head of some two or three more men to join the\nMission--years hence it may be. We need only a few; I don't suppose that\nten years hence I should (if alive) ever wish to have more than six or\neight clergy; because their work will be the training of young natives\nto be themselves teachers, and, I pray God, missionaries in due time. I\nam so glad that you quite feel my wants, and sympathise with me. It is\ndifficult to give reasons--intelligible to you all at a distance--for\neverything that I may say and do, because the circumstances of this\nMission are so very peculiar. But you know that I have always the\nPrimate to consult with as to principles; and I must, for want of a\nbetter course, judge for myself as to the mode of working them out in\ndetail.\n\n'Two plans are open for obtaining a supply of young men. First, I may\nreceive some few ready-trained men, who nevertheless will have to\nlearn the particular lessons that only can be taught here on the spot.\nSecondly, I may have youths of (say) sixteen to eighteen years of age,\nsent out from such a school as Stephen Hawtrey's for example, who will\ncome with a good general knowledge of ordinary things, and receive a\nspecial training from myself. I think, too, that New Zealand will now\nand then supply an earnest, active-minded young fellow--who will be a\nGreek or Latin scholar, yet may find a useful niche in which he may\nbe placed. At present I have means only to maintain one or two such\npersons, and this because I am able to use the money my dear Father\nleft me for this purpose. Indeed, I have no other use for it. The money\nreceived on public account would not keep the Mission in its present\nstate, and the expenditure ought to be increased by maintaining\nmore scholars and teachers. I don't forget what you say about the\nphilological part of my business. My difficulty is this, mainly: that it\nis next to impossible to secure a few hours of continuous leisure. You\ncan have no idea of the amount of detail that I must attend to: seeing\neverything almost, and having moreover not a few New Zealand matters\nto employ my time, besides my Melanesian work. I have, I suppose, a\nconsiderable amount of knowledge of Melanesian tongues, unknown by name\nto anyone else perhaps; I quite feel that this ought not to die with\nme, if anything should suddenly happen to me. I hoped this summer to\nput together something; but now there is this Maori war, and an utterly\nunsettled state of things. I may have to leave New Zealand with my\nMelanesians almost any day. But I will do what I can, and as soon as I\ncan. Again: I find it so hard to put on paper what I know. I could talk\nto a philologist, and I fancy that I could tell him much that would\ninterest him; but I never wrote anything beyond a report in my life, and\nit is labour and grief to me to write them--I can't get on as a scribe\nat all. Then, for two or three years I have not been able to visit some\nislands whose language I know just enough of to see that they supply\na valuable link in the great Polynesian chain. One might almost get\ntogether all the disjecta membra and reconstruct the original Polynesian\ntongue. But chiefly, of course, my information about Melanesia may be\ninteresting. I have begun by getting together numerals in forty quite\nunknown dialects. I will give, at all events, short skeleton grammars\ntoo of some. But we have no time. Why, I have from five hundred to\ntwo thousand or more carefully ascertained words in each of several\ndialects, and of course these ought to be in the hands of you all\nat home. I know that, and have known it for years; but how to do it,\nwithout neglecting the daily necessary work?\n\n'Again: the real genius of the language, whatever it may be, is learned\nwhen I can write down what I overhear boys saying when they are talking\nwith perfect freedom, and therefore idiomatically, about sharks,\ncocoa-nuts, yams, &c. All translations must fail to represent a language\nadequately, and most of all the translation into a heathen language of\nreligious expressions. They have not the ideas, and the language cannot\nbe fairly seen in the early attempts to make it do an unaccustomed work.\n\n'I remember more of you and my Aunt than you suppose. Even without the\nphotograph (which I am very glad to have--thank you for it), I could\nhave found you and Aunt out in a crowd. I can't say that I remember my\nown generation so well.\n\n'Thank you again for writing so kindly.\n\n'Always, my dear Cousin,\n\n'Affectionately yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'\n\n\nThe next mail carried the reply to Johanna's sympathy with the troubles\nof the time of sickness in the early part of the year.\n\n\n'August 28, 1863.\n\n'My dear Joan,--Very full of comfort to have all your kind loving\nthoughts and words about our sickness. I know you thought and talked\nmuch about it, and indeed it was a very heavy visitation viewed in one\nway, though in another (and I really can't analyze the reason why) there\nwas not only peace and calmness, but eyen happiness. I suppose one\nmay be quite sure one is receiving mercies, and be thankful for them,\nalthough one is all the time like a man in a dream. I can hardly think\nof it all as real. But I am sure that God was very, very merciful to us.\nThere was no difficulty anywhere about the making known the death of the\nlads to their relatives. I did not quite like the manner of the people\nat Guadalcanar, from which island poor Porasi came; and I could not get\nat the exact place from which Taman came, though I landed on the same\nisland north and south of the beach from which I brought him.\n\n'I do not at all think that any interruption of the work has been\noccasioned by it. It was very unfortunate that I could not, last voyage,\nmake visits (and long ones too, as I had hoped) to many islands where\nin the voyage before I had met with such remarkable tokens of good-will,\nespecially Leper's Island and Santa Cruz, but I think that if I can make\na regular good round next time, it may be all as well. I imagine that\nin a great many islands it would now take a good deal to shake their\nconfidence in us. At the same time it was and is a matter of great\nregret that I did not at once follow up the openings of the former year,\nand by returning again to the New Hebrides and Solomon Islands (as in\nthe contemplated six months' voyage I intended to do), strengthen the\ngood feeling now existing. Moreover, many scholars who were here last\nyear would have come again had I revisited them and picked them up\nagain. But the Mota sickness, the weather, and Mr. Tilly's illness made\nit more prudent to return by what is on the whole the shorter route,\ni.e., to the west of New Caledonia.\n\n'You should have been with me when, as I jumped on shore at Mota, I took\nParaskloi's father by the hand. That dear lad I baptized as he lay in\nhis shroud in the chapel, when the whole weight of the trial seemed,\nas it were, by a sudden revelation to manifest itself, and thoroughly\noverwhelmed and unnerved me. I got through the service with the tears\nstreaming down my cheeks, and my voice half choked. He was his father's\npride, some seventeen years old. A girl ready chosen for him as his\nwife. \"It is all well, Bishop, he died well. I know you did all you\ncould, it is all well.\" He trembled all over, and his face was wet with\ntears; but he seemed strangely drawn to us, and if he survives this\npresent epidemic, his son's death may be to him the means in God's hands\nof an eternal life. Most touching, is it not, this entire confidence?\n\n'At Aruas, the small island close to Valua, from which dear Sosaman\ncame, it was just the same; rather different at the west side of\nVanua Lava, where they did not behave so well, and where (as I heard\nafterwards) there had been some talk of shooting me; but nothing\noccurred while I was on shore with them to alarm me.\n\n'At Ambrym I landed with Talsil (Joval, from the same place, had died),\na great crowd, all friendly, walked into the village and sat down,\nspeechifying by the principal man, a presentation to me of a small pig;\nbut such confidence that this man came back with me on board, where I\ngave him presents. I much wished to land at Taman's place, but could not\ndo so, though I tried twice, without causing great delay.\n\n'I could have brought away any number of scholars from almost any of\nthese islands, probably from all. I have great reason to regret not\nhaving revisited Ambrym and other islands, but I think that a year\nhence, if alive, I may feel that it is better as it is.\n\n'These Norfolk Islanders, four of them, I take as my children, for I\ncan't fairly charge them (except Edwin Nobbs) to the Mission, and I wish\nto give Norfolk Island some help, as it is really, though not by letters\npatent, part of my charge. Edwin Nobbs is a thoroughly good fellow, and\nFisher Young is coming on very well.\n\n'Now, my dearest Joan, good-bye. My hats will come no doubt in good\ntime, my present chapeau is very seedy, very limp and crooked and\nbattered; as near green as black almost--a very good advertisement\nof the poverty of the Mission. But if I go about picking up gold\nin Australia, I shall come out in silk cassock and all the\nparaphernalia--very episcopal indeed!\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nHerewith was a letter for Dr. Moberly:--\n\n'St. Andrew's College, Kohimarama: August 29, 1863. 'My dear Dr.\nMoberly,--Thank you for a very kind and most interesting letter written\nin May. I know that you can with difficulty find time to write at all,\nand thank you all the more. If you knew the real value to us of such\nletters as you have now sent, containing your impressions and opinions\nof things in general, men, books, &c., you would be well rewarded for\nyour trouble, I assure you. To myself, I must say to you, such letters\nare invaluable; they are a real help to me, not only in that they supply\ninformation from a very good authority on many questions which I much\ndesire to understand, but even more because I rise up or kneel down\nafter reading them, and think to myself, \"how little such men who so\nthink of me really know me; how different I ought to be,\" and then it is\nanother help to me to try and become by God's grace less unlike what you\ntake me to be. Indeed, you must forgive me for writing thus freely. I\nlive very much alone as far as persons of the same language, modes of\nthought, &c., are concerned. I see but little (strange as it may seem to\nyou) even of my dear Primate. We are by land four or five miles apart,\nand meet perhaps once or twice a month for a few minutes to transact\nsome necessary business. His time is, of course, fully occupied; and\nI never leave this place, very seldom even this little quadrangle, and\nwhen other work does not need immediate attention (a state of things at\nwhich I have not arrived as yet), there are always a dozen new languages\nto be taken up, translations to be made, &c. So that when I read\na letter which is full of just such matters as I think much of, I\nnaturally long to talk on paper freely with the writer. Were I in\nEngland, I know scarcely any place to which I would go sooner than\nWinchester, Hursley, Otterbourne, and then I should doubtless talk as\nnow I write freely. All that you write of the state of mind generally in\nEngland on religious questions is most deeply interesting. What a matter\nof thankfulness that you can say, \"With all the sins and shortcomings\nthat are amongst us, there is an unmistakeable spreading of devotion and\nthe wish to serve God rightly on the part of very many.\"\n\n'Then, the Church preferments have lately been good; Bishop Ellicott,\none of your four coadjutors in the revision of the A. V., especially.\nI know some part of his Commentary, and am very glad to find that you\nspeak so very highly of it. What a contrast to be sure between such work\nas his and Jowett's and Stanley's! Jowett actually avows a return to\nthe old exploded theory of the inaccurate use of language in the\nGreek Testament. This must make men distrust him sooner or later as an\ninterpreter of Scripture. I thank you heartily for your offer of sending\nme Bishop Ellicott's Commentary, but I hardly like you to send me so\nvaluable a gift. What if you substitute for it a copy of what you have\nwritten yourself, not less valuable to me, and less expensive to you? I\nhardly like to write to ask favours of such people as Bishop Ellicott;\nI mean I have no right to do so; yet I almost thought of asking him to\nsend a copy of his Commentaries to us for our library. I have ventured\nto write to Dean Trench: and I am pretty sure that Mr. Keble will send\nme his \"Life of Bishop Wilson.\" But pray act as you wish. I am very\ngrateful to you for thinking of it at all; and all such books whether\nyours or his will be used and valued, I can undertake to say. My good\nfriend Kidding knows that I was, alas! no scholar at Eton or Oxford. I\nhave sought to remedy this in some measure as far as the Greek Testament\nis concerned, and there are some excellent books which help one much;\nyet I can never make myself a good scholar, I fear; one among many\npenalties I pay for want of real industry in old days.\n\n'Miss Yonge will hear from my sisters, and you from her, I have no\ndoubt, my very scanty account of a very uninteresting voyage. I see\neverywhere signs of a change really extraordinary in the last few years.\nI can tell no stories of sudden conversions, striking effects, &c. But\nI know that in twenty, thirty, perhaps forty places, where a year or two\nago no white man could land without some little uncertainty as to his\nreception, I can feel confident now of meeting with friends; I can walk\ninland--a thing never dreamt of in old days, sleep ashore, put myself\nentirely into their hands, and meet with a return of the confidence on\ntheir part. We have, too, more dialects, talk or find interpreters in\nmore places; our object in coming to them is more generally known--and\nin Mota, and two or three other small islands of the Banks group, there\nis almost a system of instruction at work. The last voyage was a failure\nin that I could not visit many islands, nor revisit some that I longed\nto land at for the second or third time. But I don't anticipate any\ndifficulty in reestablishing (D. V.) all the old familiarity before\nlong. No doubt it is all, humanly speaking, hazardous where so much\nseems to depend upon the personal acquaintance with the people.\n\n'By-and-by I hope to have some young man of character and ability enough\nto allow of his being regarded as my probable successor, who may always\ngo with me--not stop on any one island--but learn the kind of work I\nhave to do; then, when I no longer can do the work, it will be taken up\nby a man already known to the various islanders.\n\n'I have not touched on many points in your letter. Again, thank you for\nit: it is very kind of you to write. I must send a line to Dr. Eidding.\n\n'I am, my dear Dr. Moberly,\n\n'Yours very truly,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Bishop.'\n\n\nThe next of the closely written sheets that every mail carried was\nchiefly occupied with the Maori war and apostasy, on which this is not\nthe place to enter, until the point where more personal reflections\nbegin.\n\n'How all this makes me ponder about my own special work I need not say.\nThere is not the complication of an English colony, it is true; that\nmakes a great difference.\n\n'My own feeling is that one should teach positive truth, the plain\nmessage of Christianity, not attacking prejudices. Conviction as it\nfinds its way into the heart by the truth recommending itself will do\nthe work of casting out the old habits. I do not mean to say that the\ndevil is not in a special way at work to deceive people to follow lying\ndelusions. But all error is a perversion of truth; it has its existence\nnegatively only, as being a negation of truth. But God is truth, and\ntherefore Truth is ----. Now this is practically to be put, it seems to\nme, in this way. Error exists in the mind of man, whom God has created,\nas a perversion of truth; his faculties are constructed to apprehend\nand rest satisfied with truth. But his faculties are corrupted, and\nthe devil supplies a false caricature of truth, and deceives him to\napprehend and rest satisfied with a lie. But inasmuch as his nature,\nthough damaged, is not wholly ruined by the Fall, therefore it is still\nnot only possible for him to recognise positive truth when presented\nto him, but he will never rest satisfied with anything else--he will be\nrestless and uneasy till he has found it.\n\n'It is because I feel that it is more natural to man to follow truth\nthan error (\"natural\" being understood to mean correspondent to the\ntrue nature) that I believe the right thing is to address oneself to\nthe principle in a man which can and will recognise truth. Truth\nwhen recognised expels error. But why attack error without positively\ninculcating truth? I hope it does not bore you for me to write all this.\nBut I wish you to learn all that may explain my way of dealing with\nthese questions.'\n\nThe next day, October 25, a headache gives the Bishop a reason for\nindulging himself, while waiting for his pupils, in calling up and\nsetting down a realisation of his sisters' new home at St. Mary Church,\nwhere for the time he seems to go and live with them, so vividly does he\nrepresent the place to himself. His first return to his own affairs is\na vision that once more shows his unappeased craving for all appliances\n'for glory and for beauty' in the worship of God.\n\n'I may some day have a connection with Mary Church marbles. Sometimes\nI have a vision--but I must live twenty years to see more than a\nvision--of a small but exceedingly beautiful Gothic chapel, rich inside\nwith marbles and stained glass and carved stalls and encaustic tiles and\nbrass screen work. I have a feeling that a certain use of really good\nornaments may be desirable, and being on a very small scale it might be\npossible to make a very perfect thing some day. There is no notion of my\nindulging such a thought. It may come some day, and most probably long\nafter I am dead and gone. It would be very foolish to spend money upon\nmore necessary things than a beautiful chapel at present, when in fact\nI barely pay my way at all. And yet a really noble church is a wonderful\ninstrument of education, if we think only of the lower way of regarding\nit. Well, you have a grand church, and it is pleasant to think of dear\ndear Father having laid the stone, and of Cousin George. What would\nhe say now to Convocation and Synods, and the rapid progress of the\norganisation of the Church?\n\n'I think that what you say, Fan, about my overvaluing the world's\nopinion is very true. Self-consciousness and a very foolish sinful\nvanity always have been and are great sources of trial to me. How often\nI have longed for that simplicity and truthfulness of character that\nwe saw so beautifully exemplified in our dear Father! How often I think\nthat it is very good for me that I am so wanting in all personal gifts!\nI should be intolerable! I tell you this, not to foster such feelings by\ntalking of them, but because we wish to know and be known to each\nother as we are. It is a very easy thing to be a popular preacher here,\nperhaps anywhere. You know that I never write a really good sermon, but\nI carry off platitudes with a sort of earnest delivery, tolerably clear\nvoice, and with all the prestige of being a self-devoted Missionary\nBishop. Bless their hearts! if they could see me sipping a delicious\ncup of coffee, with some delightful book by my side, and some of my lads\nsitting with me, all of them really loving one, and glad to do anything\nfor one!\n\n'A less self-conscious person could do what I can hardly do without\ndanger. I see my name in a book or paper, and then comes at once a\nstruggle against some craving after praise. I think I know the fault,\nbut I don't say I struggle against it as I ought to do. It is very hard,\ntherefore, for me to write naturally about work in which I am myself\nengaged. But I feel that a truthful account of what we see and hear\nought to be given, and yet I never speak about the Mission without\nfeeling that I have somehow conveyed a false impression.'\n\n\nAgain there was a time of sickness. The weather alternated between keen\ncutting winds and stifling heat; and there was much illness among the\ncolonists, as well as a recurrence of the dreadful disease of the former\nyear among the scholars of St. Andrew's, though less severe, and one\nboy died after fourteen days' sickness, while two pulled through with\ndifficulty. In the midst came the Ember Week, when Mr. Palmer was\nordained Deacon; and then the Bishop collapsed under ague, and spent the\nmorning of Christmas Day in bed, but was able to get up and move into\nchapel for the celebration, and afterwards to go into hall and see the\nscholars eat their Christmas dinner.\n\nIn the letter he wrote in the latter part of the day, he confessed that\n'he felt older and less springy;' though, as he added, there was\ngood reason for it in the heavy strain that there had been upon him\nthroughout the year, though his native, scholars were all that he could\ndesire.\n\nA few days' holiday and change at the Primate's brought back spirits and\nstrength; but the question whether under any circumstances New Zealand\nwould be a safe residence for the great body of Melanesian scholars\nwas becoming doubtful, and it seemed well to consider of some other\nlocality. Besides, it was felt to be due to the supporters of the\nMission in Australia to tell them personally how great had been the\nprogress made since 1855; and, accordingly, on one of the first days of\nFebruary, Bishop Patteson embarked in a mail steamer for Sydney, but\nhe was obliged to leave six of his lads in a very anxious state with\na recurrence of dysentery. However, the Governor, Sir George Grey, had\nlent his place on the island of Kawau, thirty miles north of Auckland,\nto the party, so that there was good hope that change would restore the\nsick.\n\n'Fancy me,' says the Journal of February 6, 'on board a screw steamer,\n252 feet long, with the best double cabin on board for my own single\nuse, the manager of the company being anxious to show me every\nattention, eating away at all sorts of made dishes, puddings, &c., and\nlounging about just as I please on soft red velvet sofas and cushions.'\n\nThe rest and good living were the restorative he needed; and, in spite\nof anxiety about the patients at home, he enjoyed and profited by it.\n\nOn February 6, Sydney was reached, but the Bishop sailed on at once for\nhis farthest point. At Melbourne, on the 11th, he quaintly declares,\nafter describing his kind reception: 'I feel at present a stranger among\nstrangers; no new thing to me, especially if they are black, and begin\nby offering me cocoa-nut instead of bread and butter. This place\nlooks too large for comfort--like a section of London, busy, bustling,\nmoney-making. There are warm hearts somewhere amid the great stores and\nbanks and shops, I dare say. But you know it feels a little strange,\nand especially as I think it not unlikely that a regular hearty Church\nfeeling may not be the rule of the place. Still I am less shy than I\nwas, and with real gentlemen feel no difficulty in discussing points on\nwhich we differ.\n\nIt is the vulgar uneducated fellow that beats me. The Melanesians, laugh\nas you may at it, are naturally gentlemanly and courteous and well-bred.\nI never saw a \"gent\" in Melanesia, though not a few downright savages. I\nvastly prefer the savage.'\n\nMelbourne was, however, to be taken on the return; and he went on to\nAdelaide, where Bishop Short and the clergy met him at the port, and he\nwas welcomed most heartily. The Diocesan Synod assembled to greet him,\nand presented an address; and there were daily services and meetings,\nwhen great interest was excited, and tangibly proved by the raising of\nabout \u00a3250. He was perfectly astonished at the beauty and fertility\nof the place, and the exceeding luxuriance of the fruit. One bunch\nof grapes had been known to weigh fourteen pounds. As to the style of\nliving with all ordinary English comforts and attendance, he says:--'I\nfeel almost like a fish out of water, and yet I can't help enjoying it.\nOne very easily resumes old luxurious habits, and yet the thought of\nmy dear boys, sick as I fear some must be, helps to keep me in a sober\nstate of mind.'\n\nOn St. Matthew's Day he assisted at an Ordination: and on the 27th\nreturned to Melbourne for three weeks, and thence to Sydney. His time\nwas so taken up that his letters are far more scanty and hurried than\nusual.\n\n'I have been running no little risk of being spoilt, and I don't say\nthat I have come off uninjured. In Melbourne I was told by the Dean (the\nBishop is in England) and by Judge Pohlman (an excellent good man)\nthat they remembered no occasion during the twenty-two years of sojourn\n(before Melbourne was more than a village) when so much interest had\nbeen shown in Christian work, especially Mission work. This is a thing\nto be very thankful for. I felt it my duty to speak strongly to them on\ntheir own duties, first to Aborigines, secondly to Chinese (of whom some\n40,000 live in Victoria), thirdly to Melanesians. I did not aim only at\ngetting money for Melanesia; I took much higher ground than that. But\nthe absence of the ordinary nonsense about startling conversions, rapid\nresults, &c., and the matter-of-fact unsentimental way of stating the\nfacts of heathenism, and the way to act upon it, did, no doubt, produce\na very remarkable effect.\n\n'I need not tell you that I did pray for strength to make good use\nof such unexpected and very unusual opportunities. Crowded meetings,\nnothing before like it in Melbourne or the provinces. I did not feel\nnervous, much to my surprise; I really wonder at it, I had dreaded it\nmuch.\n\n'It was a sight to see St. George's Hall crowded, children sitting on\nthe floor, platform, anywhere, and very many adults (about 500) besides.\nNow you know my old vanity. Thank God, I don't think it followed me very\nmuch here. There was a strong sense of a grand opportunity, and the need\nof grace to use it.'\n\nThe enthusiasm at Victoria resulted in 350 pounds, and pledges of future\nassistance; and at Sydney there was the like grand meeting, the like\naddress, and hearty response; and the Churches of Australia pledged\nthemselves to bear the annual expenses of the voyages of the 'Southern\nCross.' A number of young clerks and officials, too, united in an\narrangement by which she could be insured, high as was the needful rate.\n\nThe preaching and speeches produced an immense feeling, and the after\nreview of the expedition is thus recorded:--\n\n'As for my sermons in Australia, I found to my surprise that every\nminute was so occupied that I could not make time to write; and as for\ndoing so in New Zealand before I started, why, I systematized and put\ninto the printer's hands, in about four months, grammars, &c., more or\nless complete, of seventeen languages, working up eight or ten more in\nMS.!\n\n'I had to preach extempore for the most part: I did not at all like it,\nbut what could I do? Sermons and speeches followed like hail--at least\none, sometimes two on week-days, and three on Sundays. I preached on\nsuch points as I had often talked out with the Primate and Sir William,\nand illustrated principles by an occasional statement of facts drawn\nfrom missionary experience.\n\n'Now, old Fan, as you know, the misery of self-consciousness and conceit\nclings to me. I can't, as dear old father could, tell you what actually\noccurred without doing myself harm in the telling of it.\n\n'It pleased God to make me able to say all through what I think it was\ngood for people to hear. All meetings and services (with a few, very few\nexceptions, from heavy rains, &c.) were crowded. I could not in a few\nminutes speak with any degree of completeness on subjects which for\nyears had occupied my thoughts: I was generally about an hour and\na half, occasionally longer--I tried to be shorter. But people were\nattentive and interested all through. At Melbourne, it was said that\n1,500 children (at a meeting for them) were present, and 500 adults,\nincluding many of the most educated people. All, children included, were\nas still as mice for an hour and a half, except occasional cheers.\n\n'But generally there was little excitement. I did not, as you can\nsuppose, take the sensation line; spoke very rapidly, for I had no time\nto spare--but clearly and quietly, sometimes gravely, sometimes with\nexceeding earnestness, and exposed sophistries and fallacies and errors\nabout the incapacity of the black races, &c. There were times when I\nlost all sense of nervousness and self, and only wished that 10,000\npeople had been present, for I felt that I was speaking out, face to\nface, plain simple words of truth.\n\n'The effect at the time was no doubt very remarkable. The Dean of\nMelbourne, e.g., said publicly that no such earnestness in religious,\nmatters had ever been exhibited there. The plan of Mission work was\nsimple, practicable, commended itself to hard-headed men of business.\nMany came to hear who had been disgusted with the usual sentimentalism\nand twaddle, the absence of knowledge of human nature, the amount of\nconventional prejudice, &c. They were induced to come by friends who\nrepresented that this was something quite different, and these men\nwent away convinced in many cases, seconding resolutions and paying\nsubscriptions.\n\n'I said what was true, that I was the mouthpiece of the Bishop of New\nZealand; that I could speak freely of the plan of the Mission, for it\nwas not my plan, &c. How I was carried through it all, I can't say. I\nwas unusually well, looked and felt bright, and really after a while\nenjoyed it, though I was always glad when my share in the speechifying\nwas over. Yet I did feel it a blessing, and a privilege, to stand up\nthere and speak out; and I did speak out, and told them their plain\nduties, not appealing to feelings, but aiming at convincing the\njudgment. I told 1,500 people in church at Sydney, \"I speak as to wise\nmen, judge ye what I say.\" Do you know, Fan, I almost feel that if I\nlive a few years I ought to write a book, unless I can get the Primate\nto do it? So much that is self-evident to us, I now see to be quite\nunknown to many good educated men. I don't mean a silly book, but a very\nsimple statement of general principles of Christian work, showing the\nmode that must be adopted in dealing with men as partakers of a\ncommon nature, coupled with the many modifications and adaptations to\ncircumstances which equally require special gifts of discernment and\nwisdom from on high. Then occasional narratives, by way of illustration,\nto clench the statement of principles, might be introduced; but I can't\nwrite, what I might write if I chose, folios of mere events without\ndeducing from them some maxims for Christian practice.'\n\nThe impression produced was deep and lasting at all the Australian\ncapitals, including Brisbane.\n\nA plan was even set on foot for transferring a part of the Melanesian\nschool to a little island not far from the coast of Queensland, in a\nmuch warmer climate than Kohimarama, where it was thought Australian\nnatives might be gathered in.\n\nHere is the description of the place, written a day or two after the\nreturn to New Zealand:--\n\n\n'St. Andrew's: April 27, 1864.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--I returned on the 24th from Australia. I visited the\ndioceses of Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane. Everywhere I met\nwith great encouragement; and indeed, I thank God that (as I had hoped)\nthe special work of the Mission became the means of exciting\nunusual interest in the work of the Church generally. It was a great\nopportunity, a great privilege in the crowded meetings to tell people\nface to face their duties, to stand up as the apologist of the despised\nAustralian black, and the Chinese gold-digger, and the Melanesian\nislander.\n\n'All the Primate had taught me--what heathenism is, how to deal with\nit, the simple truisms about the \"common sin, common redemption,\" the\ncapacity latent in every man, because he is a man, and not a fallen\nangel nor a brute beast, the many conventional errors on Mission\n(rather) ministerial work--many, many things I spoke of very fully and\nfrequently. I felt it was a great responsibility. How strange that I\nforgot all my nervous dread, and only wished there could be thousands\nmore present, for I knew that I was speaking words of truth, of hope,\nand love; and God did mercifully bless much that He enabled, me to say,\nand men's hearts were struck within them, though, indeed, I made no\neffort to excite them.\n\n'Much may result from it. We may have a branch school on the S.W.\nof Curtis Island, on the east coast of Queensland, healthy, watered,\nwooded, with anchorage, about 25\u00b0 S. latitude, a fair wind to and from\nsome of the islands; to which place I could rapidly carry away sick\npersons.\n\n'There I could convey two hundred or more scholars, in the same time\nrequired to bring sixty to New Zealand; there yams can be grown; there\nit may be God's will that a work may be commenced at length among the\nremnant that is left of the Australian blacks. The latter consideration\nis very strongly urged upon me by the united voice of the Australian\nChurches, by none more strongly than by the Bishop of Sydney. I dare to\nhope that the communion of the Australian and New Zealand Churches will\nbe much strengthened by the Mission as a link. What blessings, what\nmercies!\n\n'This will not involve an abandonment of St Andrew's, but the work must\nexpand. I think Australia will supply near 1,000 pounds a year, perhaps\nmore before long.\n\n'To teach me that all is in His hands, we have again had a visitation\nfrom dysentery. It has been very prevalent everywhere, no medical men\nremember such a season. We have lost from consumption two, and from\ndysentery six this year; in fourteen months not less than fourteen: more\nthan in all the other years put together. Marvellous to relate, all our\nold baptized and confirmed scholars are spared to us. Good-bye, and God\never bless and keep you.\n\n'Your affectionate cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON, Bishop.'\n\n\nOne of these deaths was that of Kareambat, the little New Caledonian\nconfided to the Bishop of New Zealand by poor Basset. He had been\nchristened on the previous Epiphany.\n\nNo doubt this grief on coming home increased the effect of this year of\ntrial. Indeed even on the voyage there had been this admission, 'Somehow\nI don't feel right with all this holiday; I have worked really very\nhard, but \"change of work is the best holiday.\" I don't feel springy. I\nam not so young as I was, that's the truth of it, and this life is not\nlikely to be a long one. Yet when used up for this work, absence of\ncontinual anxiety and more opportunity of relaxation may carry a man on\nwithout his being wholly useless!'\n\nThe Maori war was a constant grief and anxiety to all the friends on\nshore, and there was thus evidently much less elasticity left to meet\nthe great shock that was preparing for the voyagers in the expedition of\n1864. Mr. Codrington was not of the party, having been obliged to go to\nEngland to decide whether it was possible to give himself wholly to the\nMission; and the staff therefore consisted of Mr. Pritt, Mr. Kerr, and\nMr. Palmer, with Mr. Joseph Atkin, whose journal his family have kindly\nput at my disposal.\n\nThe endeavour was to start after the Ascension Day Communion, but things\nwere not forward enough. May was not, however, very far advanced before\nthe 'Southern Cross' was at sea.\n\nOn May 17, Norfolk Island was visited, and Edwin Nobbs and Fisher Young\nhad what proved to be their last sight, of their home and friends. The\nplan was to go on to Nengone and Erromango, take up the stores sent to\nthe latter place from Sydney, drop the two clergymen at Mota, and after\na stay there, go to the New Hebrides, and then take up the party, and if\npossible leave them to make experiment of Curtis Island, while going to\nthose Santa Cruz islands for which he always seems to have had such a\nyearning.\n\n'I feel as usual,' he finishes the letter sent from Norfolk Island,\n'that no one can tell what may be the issue of such voyages. I pray and\ntrust that God will mercifully reveal to me \"what I ought to do, and\ngive me grace and power to fulfil the same.\"\n\n'I have now been for some time out of the way of this kind of work, but\nI hope that all may be safely ordered for us. It is all in His hands;\nand you all feel, as I try to do, that there should be no cause for\nanxiety or trouble.\n\n'Yet there are moments when one has such an overwhelming sense of one's\nsins and negligences provoking God to chastise one. I know that His\nmerciful intention towards men must be accomplished, and on the whole\nI rest thankfully in that, and feel that He will not suffer my utter\nunworthiness to hinder His work of love and goodness.'\n\nAt Mota, Mr. Atkin's journal shows to what work a real helper needed to\nbe trained:--\n\n'The Mission-house had lost its roof in a gale of wind. The epidemic\nthat was raging last year did not seem to have continued long after with\nsuch violence; some more of the people were dead, but not very many.\nWe took off all the Mota boys, and things that were wanted in three\nboat-loads, the last time leaving the Bishop. There was, fortunately,\nvery little surf, and we got nothing wet, but as the tide was high, we\nhad to carry the things over the coral reefs with the water a little\nabove our knees.\n\n'About an hour later we dropped anchor at Vanua Lava. On Saturday\nmorning I went ashore with the boat, and got water for washing and sand\nfor scrubbing decks, and several tons of taro and yams discharged on\nboard the vessel. Then made another trip, left all the boys on shore\nfor a holiday, and took off twelve or fourteen cwt. of yams, taro, and\ncocoa-nuts. After dinner and washing up, went to fetch boys back. Where\nwe bought the yams there was such a surf breaking that we could not haul\nthe boat on the beach, and we had to wade and carry them out. After we\ngot on board, we had a bathe. Two of the Solomon Islanders distinguished\nthemselves by jumping off the fore-yard, and diving under the ship.\nMr. Tilly and the mates had been stowing, and the rest of us had been\ngetting yams all day, and if our friends could have seen us then,\nhaggard-looking and dirty, singing choruses to nigger melodies, how\nshocked they would have been!\n\n'Next Thursday went across to Mota, took the Bishop on board, and sailed\nsouth as fast as possible.\n\n'Sunday morning we were at the entrance of the passage between Ambrym\nand Mallicolo, without a breath of wind. We had service at 10 A.M.; and\nin the afternoon, psalms and hymns and chants in the cabin, the Bishop\ndoing most of the singing.\n\n'June 6th.--On Monday morning we landed at the old place at Tariko. We\nbegan to buy some yams. The Bishop and William Pasvorang went ashore,\nand the rest of us stayed in the boat, keeping her afloat and off\nthe reefs. Unfortunately the place where we landed was neutral ground\nbetween two tribes, who both brought yams to the place to sell. One\nparty said another was getting too many hatchets, and two or three drew\noff and began shooting at the others. One man stood behind the Bishop,\na few feet from him, and fired away in the crowd with a will. The\nconsternation and alarm of both parties were very ludicrous. Some of\neach set were standing round the boat, armed with bows and arrows, but\nthey were so frightened that they never seemed to think of using them,\nbut ran off as hard as they could scamper to the shallow water, looking\nover their shoulders to see if the enemies' arrows were after them. One\narrow was fired at the Bishop from the shore, and one hit the boat just\nas we pushed off.\n\n'The Bishop himself says of this fray:--\"I was in the middle, one man\nonly remained by me, crouching under the lee of the branch of the tree,\nand shooting away from thence within a yard of me. I did not like to\nleave the steel-yard, and I had to detach it from the rope with which\nit was tied to the tree, and the basket too was half full of yams and\nheavy, so that it was some time before I got away, and walked down the\nbeach, and waded to the boat, shooting going on all round at the time;\nno one shooting at me, yet as they shot on both sides of me at each\nother, I was thankful to get well out of it. I thought of him who\npreserves from 'the arrow that flieth by day,' as He has so mercifully\npreserved so many of us from 'the sickness.'\" Now don't go and let this\nlittle affair be printed.'\n\nAt Parama there was a friendly landing. At Sopevi Mr. Atkin says: 'We\ncould not find the landing place where the Bishop two years ago found\nseveral people. We saw three or four on the shore. They were just the\nsame colour as the dust from the volcano. What a wretched state they\nmust be in! If they go to the neighbouring-isles they will be killed as\nenemies, and if they stay at home they are constantly suffocated by\nthe ashes, which seemed to have fallen lately to the depth of more than\nafoot.'\n\nAt Mallicolo a landing place was found, and an acquaintance begun\nby means of gifts of calico. At Leper's Island St. Barnabas Day was\ncelebrated by bringing off two boys, but here again was peril. The\nBishop writes:--\n\n'The people, though constantly fighting, and cannibals and the rest of\nit, are to me very attractive, light-coloured, and some very handsome.\nAs I sat on the beach with a crowd about me, most of them suddenly\njumped up and ran off. Turning my head I saw a man (from the boat they\nsaw two men) a few yards from me, corning to me with club uplifted. I\nremained sitting, and held out a few fish-hooks to him, but one or two\nmen jumped up and seizing him by the waist forced him off. After a few\nminutes (lest they should think I was suspicious of them), I went back\nto the boat. I found out from the two young men who went away with\nme from another place, just what I expected to hear, viz. that a poor\nfellow called Moliteum was shot dead two months ago by a trader for\nstealing a bit of calico. The wonder was, not that they wanted to avenge\nthe death of their kinsman, but that the others should have prevented\nit. How could they possibly know that I was not one of the wicked\nset? Yet they did discriminate; and here again, always by the merciful\nProvidence of God, the plan of going among the people unarmed and\nunsuspiciously has been seen to disarm their mistrust and to make them\nregard me as a friend.'\n\nCurtis Island was inspected, but there was no possibility of leaving a\nparty to make experiment on it; and then the 'Southern Cross' sailed for\nthe Santa Cruz cluster, that group whose Spanish name was so remarkable\na foreboding of what they were destined to become to that small party\nof Christian explorers. Young Atkin made no entry in his diary of those\ndays, and could never bear to speak of them; and yet, from that time\nforward, his mind was fully made up to cast in his lot with the Mission.\n\nIt was on August 15 that the first disaster at these islands took\nplace. Not till the 27th could the Bishop--on his sister Fanny's\nbirthday--begin a letter to her, cheering himself most touchingly with\nthe thought of the peace at home, and then he broke off half way, and\ncould not continue for some days:--\n\n'My dearest Fan,--You remember the old happy anniversaries of your\nbirthday--the Feniton party--the assembly of relations--the regular\nyear's festivity.\n\n'No doubt this anniversary brings as much true happiness, the assurance\nof a more abiding joy, the consciousness of deeper and truer sympathy.\nYou are, I hope, to pass the day cheerfully and brightly with perhaps\n---- and ---- about you.... Anyhow, I shall think of you as possibly all\ntogether, the remnant of the old family gathering, on a calm autumn day,\nwith lovely South Devon scenery around you.\n\n'The day comes to me in the midst of one of the deepest sorrows I have\never known--perhaps I have never felt such sorrow...perhaps I have\nnever been so mercifully supported under it. It is a good and profitable\nsorrow I trust for me: it has made so much in me reveal itself as\nhollow, worldly, selfish, vainglorious. It has, I hope, helped to\nstrip away the veil, and may be by God's blessing the beginning of more\nearnest life-long repentance and preparation for death.\n\n'On August 15 I was at Santa Cruz. You know that I had a very remarkable\nday there three years ago. I felt very anxious to renew acquaintance\nwith the people, who are very numerous and strong.\n\n'I went off in the boat with Atkin (twenty), Pearce (twenty-three or\ntwenty-four years old), Edwin Nobbs, Fisher Young, and Hunt Christian,\nthe last three Norfolk Islanders. Atkin, Edwin and Fisher have been with\nme for two or three years--all young fellows of great promise, Fisher\nperhaps the dearest of all to me, about eighteen, and oh! so good, so\nthoroughly truthful, conscientious, and unselfish!\n\n'I landed at two places among many people, and after a while came back\nas usual to the boat. All seemed pleasant and hopeful. At the third\nplace I landed amidst a great crowd, waded over the broad reef\n(partially uncovered at low water), went into a house, sat down for some\ntime, then returned among a great crowd to the boat and got into it. I\nhad some difficulty in detaching the hands of some men swimming in the\nwater.\n\n'Well, when the boat was about fifteen yards from the reef, on\nwhich crowds were standing, they began (why I know not) to shoot at\nus.--(Another letter adds) 300 or 400 people on the reef, and five or\nsix canoes being round us, they began to shoot at us.--I had not shipped\nthe rudder, so I held it up, hoping it might shield off any arrows that\ncame straight, the boat being end on, and the stern, having been backed\ninto the reef, was nearest to them.\n\n'When I looked round after a minute, providentially indeed, for the\nboat was being pulled right into a small bay on the reef, and would have\ngrounded, I saw Pearce lying between the thwarts, with the long shaft\nof an arrow in his chest, Edwin Nobbs with an arrow as it seemed in his\nleft eye, many arrows flying close to us from many quarters. Suddenly\nFisher Young, pulling the stroke oar, gave a faint scream; he was shot\nthrough the left wrist. Not a word was spoken, only my \"Pull! port\noars, pull on steadily.\" Once dear Edwin, with the fragment of the\narrow sticking in his cheek, and the blood streaming down, called out,\nthinking even then more of me than of himself, \"Look out, sir! close to\nyou!\" But indeed, on all sides they were close to us!\n\n'How we any of us escaped I can't tell; Fisher and Edward pulled on,\nAtkin had taken Pearce's oar, Hunt pulled the fourth oar. By God's mercy\nno one else was hit, but the canoes chased us to the schooner. In about\ntwenty minutes we were on board, the people in the canoes round the\nvessel seeing the wounded paddled off as hard as they could, expecting\nof course that we should take vengeance on them. But I don't at all\nthink that they were cognisant of the attack on shore.'\n\n\nSeveral letters were written about this adventure; but I have thought\nit better to put them together, every word being Bishop Patteson's own,\nbecause such a scene is better realised thus than by reading several\ndescriptions for the most part identical. What a scene it is! The\npalm-clad island, the reef and sea full of the blacks, the storm of long\narrows through the air, the four youths pulling bravely and steadily,\nand their Bishop standing over them, trying to ward off the blows with\nthe rudder, and gazing with the deep eyes and steadfast smile that had\ncaused many a weapon to fall harmless!\n\nPearce, it should be observed, was a volunteer for the Mission then on a\ntrial-trip.\n\nThere was an even more trying time to come on board. The Bishop\ncontinues:--\n\n'I drew out the arrow from Pearce's chest: a slanting wound not going\nin very deep, running under the skin, yet of apparently almost fatal\ncharacter to an ignorant person like myself; Five inches were actually\ninside him. The arrow struck him almost in the centre of the chest and\nin the direction of the right breast. There was no effusion of blood,\nhe breathed with great difficulty, groaning and making a kind of hollow\nsound, was perfectly composed, gave me directions and messages in case\nof his death. I put on a poultice and bandage, and leaving him in charge\nof some one, went to Fisher. The wrist was shot through, but the upper\npart of the arrow broken off and deep down; bleeding profuse, of which\nI was glad; I cut deeply, though fearing much to cut an artery, but I\ncould not extract the wooden arrow-head. At length getting a firm hold\nof the projecting point of the arrow on the lower side of his wrist,\nI pulled it through: it came out clean. The pain was very great, he\ntrembled and shivered: we gave him brandy, and he recovered. I poulticed\nthe wound and went to Edwin. Atkin had got out the splinter from his\nwound; the arrow went in near the eye and came out by the cheek-bone:\nit was well syringed, and the flow of blood had been copious from the\nfirst. The arrows were not bone-headed, and not poisoned, but I well\nknew that lock-jaw was to be dreaded. Edwin's was not much more than\na flesh wound. Fisher's being in the wrist, frightened me more: their\npatience and quiet composure and calm resignation were indeed a strength\nand comfort to us all.\n\n'This was on Monday, August 15. All seemed doing well for a day or two,\nI kept on poultices, gave light nourishing food, &c. But on Saturday\nmorning Fisher said to me, \"I can't make out what makes my jaws feel so\nstiff.\"\n\n'Then my heart sank down within me, and I prayed earnestly, earnestly\nto God. I talked to the dear dear lad of his danger, night and day we\nprayed and read. A dear guileless spirit indeed. I never saw in so young\na person such a thorough conscientiousness as for two years I witnessed\nin his daily life, and I had long not only loved but respected him.\n\n'We had calm weather and could not get on. By Saturday the jaws were\ntight-locked. Then more intense grew the pain, the agony, the whole body\nrigid like a bar of iron! Oh! how I blessed God who carried me through\nthat day and night. How good he was in his very agonies, in his fearful\nspasms, thanking God, praying, pressing my hand when I prayed and\ncomforted him with holy words of Scripture. None but a well-disciplined,\nhumble, simple Christian could so have borne his sufferings: the habit\nof obedience and faith and patience; the childlike unhesitating trust in\nGod's love and fatherly care, supported him now. He never for a moment\nlost his hold upon God. What a lesson it was! it calmed us all. It\nalmost awed me to see in so young a lad so great an instance of God's\ninfinite power, so great a work of good perfected in one young enough to\nhave been confirmed by me.\n\n'At 1 A.M. (Monday) I moved from his side to my couch, only three yards\noff. Of course we were all (I need not say) in the after cabin. He said\nfaintly, \"Kiss me. I am very glad that I was doing my duty. Tell my\nfather that I was in the path of duty, and he will be so glad. Poor\nSanta Cruz people!\" Ah! my dear boy, you will do more for their\nconversion by your death than ever we shall by our lives. And as I lay\ndown almost convulsed with sobs, though not audible, he said (so Mr.\nTilly afterwards told me), \"Poor Bishop!\" How full his heart was of love\nand peace, and thoughts of heaven. \"Oh! what love,\" he said. The last\nnight when I left him for an hour or two at 1 A.M. only to lie down in\nmy clothes by his side, he said faintly (his body being then rigid as\na bar of iron), \"Kiss me, Bishop.\" At 4 A.M. he started as if from a\ntrance; he had been wandering a good deal, but all his words even\nthen were of things pure and holy. His eyes met mine, and I saw the\nconsciousness gradually coming back into them. \"They never stop singing\nthere, sir, do they?\"--for his thoughts were with the angels in heaven.\nThen, after a short time, the last terrible struggle, and then he fell\nasleep. And remember, all this in the midst of that most agonizing, it\nmay be, of all forms of death. At 4 A.M. he was hardly conscious, not\nfully conscious: there were same fearful spasms: we fanned him and\nbathed his head and occasionally got a drop or two of weak brandy or\nwine and water down. Then came the last struggle. Oh! how I thanked God\nwhen his head at length fell back, or rather his whole body, for it was\nwithout joint, on my arm: long drawn sighs with still sadder contraction\nof feature succeeded, and while I said the Commendatory Prayer, he\npassed away.\n\n'The same day we anchored in Port Patteson, and buried him in a quiet\nspot near the place where the Primate and I first landed years ago.\nIt seems a consecration of the place that the body of that dear child\nshould be resting there.\n\n'Some six years ago, when Mrs. Selwyn stopped at Norfolk Island she\nsingled him out as the boy of special promise. For two or three years he\nhad been with me, and my affection flowed out naturally to him. God had\ntried him by the two sicknesses at Kohimarama and at Mota, and by his\nwhole family returning to Pitcairn. I saw that he had left all for this\nwork. He had become most useful, and oh! how we shall miss him!\n\n'But about five days after this (August 22) Edwin's jaws began to\nstiffen. For nine or ten days there was suspense, so hard to bear. Some\nsymptoms were not so bad, it did not assume so acute a form. I thought\nhe ought to be carried through it. He was older, about twenty-one, six\nfeet high, a strong handsome young man, the pride of Norfolk Island,\nthe destined helper and successor (had God so willed) of his father, the\npresent Clergyman. The same faith, the same patience, the same endurance\nof suffering.\n\n'On Friday, September 2, I administered the Holy Communion to him\nand Pearce. He could scarce swallow the tiniest crumb. He was often\ndelirious, yet not one word but spoke of things holy and pure, almost\ncontinually in prayer. He was in the place where Fisher had died, the\nbest part of the cabin for an invalid. Sunday came: he could take no\nnourishment, stomach and back in much pain: a succession of violent\nspasms at about 10.30 A.M., but his body never became quite rigid. The\ndeath struggle at 1 A.M. September 5, was very terrible. Three of us\ncould scarcely hold him. Then he sank back on my arm, and his spirit\npassed away as I commended his soul to God. Then all motionless. After\nsome minutes, I said the first prayer in the Burial Service, then\nperformed the last offices, then had a solemn talk with Pearce, and\nknelt down, I know not how long.\n\n'We buried him at sea. All this time we were making very slow progress;\nindeed the voyage has been very remarkable in all respects. Pearce\nseems to be doing very well, so that I am very hopeful about him. The\ntemperature now is only 72 degrees, and I imagine that his constitution\nis less liable to that particular disease. Yet punctured wounds are\nalways dangerous on this account.\n\n'Patience and trust in God, the same belief in His goodness and love,\nthat He orders all things for our good, that this is but a proof of His\nmerciful dealing with us: such comforts God has graciously not withheld.\nI never felt so utterly broken down, when I thought, and think, of the\nearthly side of it all; never perhaps so much realised the comfort and\npower of His Presence, when I have had grace to dwell upon the heavenly\nand abiding side of it. I do with my better part heartily and humbly\nthank Him, that He has so early taken these dear ones by a straight\nand short path to their everlasting home. I think of them with blessed\nsaints, our own dear ones, in Paradise, and in the midst of my tears I\nbless and praise God.\n\n'But, dear Fan, Fisher most of all supplied to me the absence of earthly\nrelations and friends. He was my boy: I loved him as I think I never\nloved any one else. I don't mean more than you all, but in a different\nway: not as one loves another of equal age, but as a parent loves a\nchild.\n\n'I can hardly think of my little room at Kohimarama without him. I\nlong for the sight of his dear face, the sound of his voice. It was\nmy delight to teach him, and he was clever and so thoughtful and\nindustrious. I know it is good that my affections should be weaned from\nall things earthly. I try to be thankful, I think I am thankful really;\ntime too will do much, God's grace much more. I only wonder how I have\nborne it all. \"In the multitude of the sorrows that I had in my heart,\nThy comforts have refreshed my soul.\" Mr. Tilly has been and is full of\nsympathy, and is indeed a great aid. He too has a heavy loss in these\ntwo dear ones. And now I must land at Norfolk Island in the face of the\npopulation crowding the little pier. Mr. Nobbs will be there, and the\nbrothers and sisters of Edwin, and the uncles and aunts of Fisher.\n\n'Yet God will comfort them; they have been called to the high privilege\nof being counted worthy to suffer for their Savior's sake. However much\nI may reproach myself with want of caution and of prayer for guidance\n(and this is a bitter thought), they were in the simple discharge of\ntheir duty. Their intention and wish were to aid in bringing to those\npoor people the Gospel of Christ. It has pleased God that in the\nexecution of this great purpose they should have met with their deaths.\nSurely there is matter for comfort here!\n\n'I can't write all this over again.... I have written at some length to\nJem also; put the two letters together, and you will be able to realise\nit somewhat.\n\n'This is a joint letter to you and Joan. It was begun on your birthday,\nand it has been written with a heavy, dull weight of sorrow on my heart,\nyet not unrelieved by the blessed consciousness of being drawn, as I\nhumbly trust, nearer to our most merciful Father in heaven, if only by\nthe very impossibility of finding help elsewhere. It has not been a time\nwithout its own peculiar happiness. How much of the Bible seemed endued\nwith new powers of comfort.... How true it is, that they who seek,\nfind. \"I sought the Lord, and He heard me.\" The closing chapters of the\nGospels, 2 Corinthians, and how many other parts of the New Testament\nwere blessings indeed! Jeremy Taylor's \"Life of Christ,\" and \"Holy\nLiving and Dying,\" Thomas a Kempis, most of all of course the\nPrayer-book, and such solemn holy memories of our dear parents and\nuncles, such blessed hopes of reunion, death brought so near, the\nlonging (if only not unprepared) for the life to come: I could not be\nunhappy. Yet I could not sustain such a frame of mind long; and then\nwhen I sank to the level of earthly thoughts, then came the weary\nheartache, and the daily routine of work was so distasteful, and I felt\nsorely tempted to indulge the \"luxury of grief.\" But, thanks be to God,\nit is not altogether an unhealthy sorrow, and I can rest in the full\nassurance that all this is working out God's purposes of love and mercy\nto us all--Melanesians, Pitcairners, and all; and that I needed the\ndiscipline I know full well....\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nIt was not possible to touch at Norfolk Island, each attempt was baffled\nby the winds; and on September 16 the 'Southern Cross' anchored at\nKohimarama, and a sad little note was sent up to the Primate with the\nannouncement of the deaths and losses.\n\nIn spite of the comfort which, as this note said, Patteson felt 'in the\ninnocence of their lives, and the constancy of their faith' unto the\ndeath, the fate of these two youths, coming at the close of a year\nof unusual trial, which, as he had already said, had diminished his\nelasticity, had a lasting effect. It seemed to take away his youthful\nbuoyancy, and marked lines of care on his face that never were effaced.\nThe first letter after his return begins by showing how full his heart\nwas of these his children:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama: Sunday, September 18, 1864.\n\n'My dearest Fan,--I must try to write without again making my whole\nletter full of dear Edwin and Fisher. That my heart is full of them you\ncan well believe.\n\n'These last five weeks have taught me that my reading of the Bible was\nperhaps more intellectual and perhaps more theological than devotional,\nto a dangerous extent probably; anyhow I craved for it as a revelation\nnot only of truth, but of comfort and support in heavy sorrow. It may be\nthat when the sorrow does not press so heavily, the Bible cannot speak\nso wonderfully in that particular way of which I am writing, and it is\nright to read it theologically also.\n\n'But yet it should always be read with a view to some practical result;\nand so often there is not a special, though many general points which\nmay make our reading at once practical. Then comes the real trial, and\nthen comes the wondrous power of God's Word to help and strengthen.\n\n'Now it helps me to know where I am, to learn how others manage to see\nwhere they are.\n\n'All that you say about self-consciousness, &c., can't I understand it!\nAh! when I saw the guileless pure spirit of those two dear fellows ever\nbrightening more and more for now two years. I had respected them as\nmuch as I loved them. I used to think, \"Yes, we must become such as\nthey; we too must seek and pray for the mind of a little child.\"\n\n'And surely the contemplation of God is the best cure. How admirable\nJeremy Taylor is on those points! Oh that he had not overlaid it all\nwith such superabundant ornamentation of style and rhetoric. But it is\nthe manner of the age. Many persons I suppose get over it, perhaps\nlike it; but I long for the same thoughts, the same tenderness and\ntruthfulness, and faithful searching words with a clear, simple, not\nunimaginative diction. Yet his book is a great heritage.\n\n'Newman has a sermon on Contemplation or Meditation, I forget which; and\nmy copy is on board. But I do hope that by praying for humility, with\ncontemplation of God's majesty and love and our Savior's humility and\nmeekness, some improvement may be mercifully vouchsafed to me.\n\n'To dwell on His humiliation, His patience, that He should seek for\nheavenly aids, accept the ministration of an angel strengthening Him,\nhow full of mystery and awe! and yet written for us! And yet we are\nproud and self-justified and vainglorious!\n\n'The Archbishop of York, in \"Aids to Faith,\" on the Death of Christ, has\nsome most solemn and deep remarks on the Lord's Agony. I don't know that\nit could ever be quite consistent with reverence to speak on what is\nthere suggested. Yet if I could hear Mr. Keble and Dr. Pusey (say)\nprayerfully talking together on that great mystery, I should feel that\nit might be very profitable. But he must be a very humble man who should\ndare to speak on it. Yet read it, Fan, it cannot harm you; it is very\nawful, it is fully meant that He was sinless, without spot, undefiled\nthrough all. It makes the mystery of sin, and of what it cost to redeem\nour souls, more awful than ever.\n\n'And then, surely to the contemplation of God and the necessary contrast\nof our own weakness and misery, we add the thought of our approaching\ndeath, we anticipate the hours, the days, it may be the weeks and\nmonths, even the years of weariness, pain, sleeplessness, thirst,\ndistaste for food, murmuring thoughts, evil spirits haunting us,\nimpatient longings after rest for which we are not yet prepared, the\nthousand trials, discomforts, sadnesses of sickness--yes, it must come\nin some shape; and is it to come as a friend or an enemy to snatch us\nfrom what we love and enjoy, or to open the gates of Paradise?\n\n'I humbly thank God that, while I dare not be sure that I am not\nmistaken, and suppose that if ready to go I should be taken, the thought\nof death at a distance is the thought of rest and peace, of more blessed\ncommunion with God's saints, holy angels and the Lord. Yet I dare not\nfeel that if death was close at hand, it might not be far otherwise.\nHow often the \"Christian Year,\" and all true divinity helps up here! Why\nindulge in such speculations? Seek to prepare for death by dying daily.\nOh! that blessed text: Be not distracted, worry not yourselves about the\nmorrow, for the morrow shall, &c. How it does carry one through the day!\nBear everything as sent from God for your good, by way of chastisement\nor of proving you. Pusey's sermon on Patience, Newman's on a Particular\nProvidence, guarding so wisely against abuse as against neglect of the\ndoctrine. How much to comfort and guide one! and then, most of all, the\ncontinual use of the Prayer-book. Do you often use the Prayer at the\nend of the Evening Service for Charles the Martyr? Leave out from \"great\ndeep...teach us to number\"--and substitute \"pride\" for \"splendour.\"\nLeave out \"according to... blessed martyr.\" In the Primate's case, it is\na prayer full of meaning, and it may have a meaning for us all.\n\n'Once more, the love of approbation is right and good, but then it\nmust be the love of the approbation of God and of good men. Here, as\neverywhere, we abuse His gift; and it is a false teaching which bids\nus suppress the human instinct which God implanted in us, but a true\nleading, which bids us direct and use it to its appointed and legitimate\nuse. On this general subject, read if you have not read them, and you\ncan't read them too often, Butler's Sermons; you know, the great\nButler. I think you will easily get an analysis of them, such as Mill's\n\"Analysis of Pearson on the Creed,\" which will help you, if you want it.\nAnalyse them for yourself, if you like, and send me out your analysis\nto look at. There is any amount of fundamental teaching there and the\nimprimatur of thousands of good men to assure us of it.\n\n'I think, as I have written to Joan, that if I were with you, after the\nfirst few days my chiefest delight would be in reading and talking over\nour reading of good books. Edwin and Fisher were beginning to\nunderstand thoughtful books; and how I did delight in reading with them,\ninterspersing a little Pitcairn remark here and there! Ah! never more!\nnever more! But they don't want books now. All is clear now: they live\nwhere there is no night, in the Glory of God and of the Lamb, resting\nin Paradise, anticipating the full consummation of the Life of the\nResurrection. Thanks be to God, and it may not be long--but I must not\nindulge such thoughts.\n\n'I feel better, but at times this sad affliction weighs me down much,\nand business of all kinds seems almost to multiply. Yet there are many\nmany comforts, and kindest sympathy.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nJust at this time heavy sorrow fell upon Bishop Hobhouse of Nelson; and\nthe little council of friends at Auckland decided that Bishop Patteson\nshould go at once to do his best to assist and comfort him, and bring\nhim back to Auckland. There was a quiet time of wholesome rest at\nNelson; and the effects appeared in numerous letters, and in the\nthinking out of many matters on paper to his sisters.\n\n'Oh! how I think with such ever-increasing love of dear Fisher and\nEdwin! How I praised God for them on All Saints' Day. But I don't expect\nto recover spring and elasticity yet awhile. I don't think I shall ever\nfeel so young again. Really it is curious that the number of white hairs\nis notably increased in these few weeks (though it is silly to talk\nabout it. Don't mention it!), and I feel very tired and indolent. No\nwonder I seem to \"go softly.\" But I am unusually happy down in the\ndepths, only the surface troubled. I hope that it is not fancy only that\nmakes the shortness and uncertainty of this life a ground of comfort\nand joy. Perhaps it is, indeed I think it is, very much a mere cowardly\nindolent shirking of work.\n\n'Did I say I thought I might some day write a book? It will be some day\nindeed. It seems funny enough to think of such a thing. The fact is, it\nis much easier to me to speak than to write. I think I could learn\nwith a good deal of leisure and trouble to write intelligibly, but not\nwithout it. I am so diffusive and wanting in close condensed habits\nof thought. How often I go off in a multitude of words, and really say\nnothing worthy to be remembered.\n\n'How I should enjoy, indeed, a day or two at Hursley with Mr. and Mrs.\nKeble. A line from him now and then, if he can find time, would be a\ngreat delight to me; but I know that he thinks and prays, and that is\nindeed a great happiness.\n\n'Oh, the blessing of such thoughts as All Saints' Day brings!--and now\nmore dear than ever, every day brings!--\"Patriarchs, prophets, apostles,\nmartyrs, and every spirit made perfect in the faith of Christ,\" as an\nold Liturgy says. And the Collects in the Burial Service! How full, how\nsimple and soothing, how full of calm, holy, tender, blessed hopes and\nanticipations!\n\n'So you think the large Adelaide photograph very sad. I really don't\nremember it; I fancy I thought it a very fair likeness. But you know\nthat I have a heavy lumpy dull look, except when talking--indeed, then\ntoo for aught I know--and this may be mistaken for a sad look when it\nis only a dull stupid one. You can't get a nice picture out of an ugly\nface, so it's no use trying, but you are not looking for that kind of\nthing. You want to see how far the face is any index of the character\nand life and work.\n\nI don't think it odd that I should look careworn. I have enough to make\nme so! And yet if I were with you now, brightened up by being with you,\nyou would say, \"How well he looks!\" And you would think I had any amount\nof work in me, as you saw me riding or walking or holding services. And\nthen I had to a very considerable extent got over that silly shyness,\nwhich was a great trial and drawback to me of old, and sadly prevented\nme from enjoying the society of people (at Oxford especially) which\nwould have done me much good. But without all these bodily defects, I\nshould have been even more vain, and so I can see the blessing and\nmercy now, though how many times I have indulged murmuring rebellious\nthoughts!\n\n'Perhaps I shall live ten or twenty years, and look back and say, \"I\nrecollect how in '64 I really almost thought I should not last long.\"\nBut don't fancy that I am morbidly cherishing such fancies. Only I like\nyou all to know me as I am changing in feeling from time to time. There\nis quite enough to account for it all.'\n\nA few days later he returned to Auckland, and thence wrote to me a\nletter on the pros and cons of a move from New Zealand. The sight of\nships and the town he had ceased to think of great importance, and older\nscholars had ceased to care for it, and there was much at that time to\nrecommend Curtis Island to his mind. The want of bread-fruit was the\nchief disadvantage he then saw in it, but he still looked to keeping up\nKohimarama for a good many years to come. I cannot describe how tender\nand considerate he was of feelings he thought I might possibly have of\ndisappointment that St. Andrew's was not a successful experiment as far\nas health was concerned, evidently fearing that I had set my hopes on\nthat individual venture, and that my feelings might be hurt if it had to\nbe deserted.\n\nThe next letters are a good deal occupied with the troubles incident\nto the judgment upon 'Essays and Reviews.' He took a view, as has been\nseen, such as might be expected of the delicate refining metaphysical\nmind, thinking out points for itself, and weighing the possible value\nof every word, and differed from those who were in the midst of the\ncontest, and felt some form of resistance and protest needful. He\nwas strongly averse to agitation on the subject, and at the same time\ngrieved to find himself for the first time, to his own knowledge, not\naccepting the policy of those whom he so much respected; though the\nonly difference in his mind from theirs was as to the manner of the\nmaintenance of the truth, and the immediate danger of error going\nuncondemned--a point on which his remote life perhaps hardly enabled him\nto judge.\n\nAll these long letters and more, which were either in the same tone,\nor too domestic to be published, prove the leisure caused by having an\nunusually small collection of pupils, and happily all in fair health;\nbut with Christmas came a new idea, or rather an old one renewed.\nInstead of only going to Norfolk Island, on sufferance from the Pitcairn\nCommittee, and by commission from the Bishop of Tasmania, a regular\nrequest was made, by Sir John Young, the Governor of Australia, that\nthe Pitcairners might be taken under his supervision, so that, as far\nas Government was concerned, the opposition was withdrawn which had\nhindered his original establishment there, though still Curtis Island\nremained in the ascendency in the schemes of this summer. The ensuing\nis a reply to Sir John Coleridge's letter, written after hearing of the\nattack at Santa Cruz:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama: March 3, 1865.\n\n'My dearest Uncle,--Many many thanks for your letter, so full of comfort\nand advice. I need not tell you that the last budget of letters revived\nagain most vividly not only the actual scene at Santa Cruz, but all the\nsearchings of heart that followed it. I believe that we are all agreed\non the main point. Enough ground has been opened for the present.\nCodrington was right in saying that the object of late has been to fill\nup gaps. But some of the most hazardous places to visit lie nearest\nto the south, e.g. some of the New Hebrides, &c., south of the Banks\nIslands. My notion is, that I ought to be content even to pass by\n(alas!) some places where I had some hold when I had reason to feel\ngreat distrust of the generally kind intentions of the people (that is\na dark sentence, but you know my meaning). In short, there are very few\nplaces where I can feel, humanly speaking, secure against this kind of\nthing. It is always in the power of even one mischievous fellow to do\nmischief. And if the feeling of the majority might be in my favour, yet\nthere being no way of expressing public opinion, no one cares to take\nan active part in preventing mischief. It is not worth his while to get\ninto a squabble and risk his own life.\n\n'But I shall be (D.V.) very cautious. I dare say I was becoming\npresumptuous: one among the many faults that are so discernible. It is,\ndear Uncle, hard to see a wild heathen party on the beach, and not try\nto get at them. It seems so sad to leave them. But I know that I ought\nto be prudent, even for my own sake (for I quite suppose that, humanly\nspeaking, my life is of consequence for a few years more), and I\ncan hardly bear the thought of bringing the boat's crew, dear good\nvolunteers, into danger. Young Atkin, the only son of my neighbour,\nbehaved admirably at Santa Cruz, and is very staunch. But his parents\nhave but him and one daughter, and I am bound to be careful indeed.\nBut don't think me careless, if we get into another scrape. There is\nscarcely one island where I can fully depend upon immunity from all\nrisk. There was no need to talk so much about it all before.\n\n'As to Curtis Island, I need not say that I have no wish indeed to take\nAustralian work in hand. I made it most clear, as I thought, that\nthe object of a site on Curtis Island was the Melanesian and not the\nAustralian Mission. I offered only to incorporate Australian blacks, if\nproper specimens could be obtained, into our school, regarding in\nfact East Australia as another Melanesian island. This would only have\ninvolved the learning a language or two, and might have been of some\nuse. I did not make any pledge. But I confess that I think some such\nplan as this one only feasible one. I don't see that the attempts at\nmission work are made on the most hopeful plan. But I have written to\nthe Brisbane authorities, urging them to appropriate large reserves for\nthe natives. I tell them that it is useless for them to give me a few\nacres and think they are doing a mission work, if they civilize the\nnative races off their own lands. In short, I almost despair of doing\nanything for blacks living on the same land with whites. Even here in\nNew Zealand, the distrust now shown to us all, to our religion even,\nis the result in very great measure of the insolent, covetous behaviour\nexhibited by the great majority of the white people to the Maori. Who\nstops in Australia to think whether the land which he wants for his\nsheep is the hunting ground of native people or not?\n\n'I confess that while I can't bear to despair and leave these poor souls\nuncared for, I can't propose any scheme but one, and who will work that?\nIf, indeed, one or two men could be found to go and live with a tribe,\nmoving as they move and really identifying himself with their interests!\nBut where are such men, and where is a tribe not already exasperated by\ninjurious treatment?\n\n'It was the statement for our mode of action which commended itself so\nmuch to people in Australia, that they urged me to try and do something.\nBut I answered as I have now written; and when at one meeting in Sydney\nI was asked whether I would take Australians into my school, I said,\n\"Yes, if I can get the genuine wild man, uncontaminated by contact with\nthe white man.\" I can't, in justice to our Melanesian scholars, take the\npoor wretched black whose intercourse with white men has rendered him a\nfar more hopeless subject to deal with than the downright ferocious yet\nnot ungenerous savage. \"If,\" was the answer, \"you can get them, I will\npay for them.\"\n\n'Indeed, dear Uncle, I don't want more but less work on my hands: yet\nas I look around, I see (as far as I can judge) so great a want of that\nprudence and knowledge and calm foresight that the Primate has shown\nso remarkably, that I declare I do think his plan is almost the only\nreasonable one for dealing with black races. Alas! you can't put hearty\nlove for strangers into men's hearts by paying them salaries.\n\n'I think that in two or three years I may, if I live, have some\npreparatory branch school at Curtis Island. If it should clearly\nsucceed, then I think in time the migration from New Zealand might\ntake place. I do not think two schools in two different countries would\nanswer. We want the old scholars to help us in working the school; we\ncan't do without them, and the old scholars can't be trained without\nthe younger ones, the material on whom their teaching, and training\nfaculties must be exercised.\n\n'You all know how deeply I feel about dear Mr. Keble!\n\n'Thank God, we have as yet no dysentery. I baptized last week a lad\ndying of consumption. There are many blessings, as all clergymen know,\nin having death scenes so constantly about one; and the having to do\neverything for these dear fellows makes one love them so....\n\n'Your affectionate and dutiful Nephew,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThe above sentence refers to the paralytic attack Mr. Keble had on\nNovember 30, 1864. Nevertheless, almost at that very time, he was\nwriting thus:--\n\n\n'Penzance: March 7, 1865.\n\n'My dear and more than dear Bishop,--It would be vain for me to write to\nyou, if I pretended to do more than just express my heart's wish that\nI could say something of the doings and sufferings which now for years\npast we of course associate with your name, so as to encourage and\nsupport you in your present manifold distress. But (especially for\nreasons known only to myself) I must leave that altogether to Him who\nhelps His own to do and suffer. One thing only I would say, that to us\nat our great distance it looks as if the sanguis martyrum were being to\nyou as the semen Ecclesiae, and you know how such things were hailed in\nthe time of St. Cyprian. May it please God before long to give you some\nvisible earnest of this sure blessing! but I suppose that if it tarry,\nit may be the greater when it comes. Our troubles as a Church, though of\na different kind, are not small. The great point with me is, lest, if in\nour anxiety to keep things together, we should be sinfully conniving\nat what is done against the faith, and so bringing a judgment upon\nourselves. I do not for a moment think that by anything which has yet\nbeen done or permitted our being as a Church is compromised (though\nthings look alarmingly as if it might be before long), but I fear\nthat her well-being is more and more being damaged by our entire and\nconscious surrender of the disciplinary part of our trust, and that if\nwe are apathetic in such things we may forfeit our charter. There is no\ndoubt, I fear, that personal unbelief is spreading; but I trust that\na deeper faith is spreading also; it is (at Oxford, e.g.) Pusey and\nMoberly, &c., against the Rationalists and other tempters. As to the\nquestion of the Bible being (not only containing) the Word, I had no\nscruples in signing that Declaration. One thought which helped me was,\nthe use made in the New Testament of the Old, which is such as to show\nthat we are not competent judges as to what passages convey deep moral\nor religious meanings or no. Another, that in every instance where\none had the means of ascertaining, so far as I have known, the Bible\ndifficulty has come right: therefore, it is reasonable to conclude that\nso it would be in all the rest, if we knew the right reading and the\nright interpretation of the words. And as to what are called the Divine\nand Human Elements, I have seemed to help myself with the thought\nthat the Divine adoption (if so be) of the human words warrants their\ntruthfulness, as a man's signature makes a letter his own; but whether\nthis is relevant, I doubt. My wife and I are both on the sick list, and\nI must now only add that we never forget you.\n\n'Ever yours,\n\n'J. K.\n\n\nNothing has hitherto been said of this term at St. Andrew's: so here is\nan extract from a letter to one of the cousinhood, who had proposed\na plan which has since been carried out extensively and with good\neffect:--\n\n'The difficulty about scholars appropriated to certain places or\nparishes is this: I cannot be sure of the same persons remaining with\nme. Some sickness in an island, some panic, some death of a relative,\nsome war, or some inability on my part from bad weather or accident to\nvisit an island, may at any time lose me a scholar. Perhaps he may be\nthe very one that has been appropriated to some one, and what am I to\nsay then?\n\n'This year we have but thirty-eight Melanesians, we ought to have sixty.\nBut after dear Edwin and Fisher's wounds, I could not delay, but hurried\nsouthwards, passing by islands with old scholars ready to come away.\nThis was sad work, but what could I do?\n\n'I will gladly assign, to the best of my power, scholars whom I think\nlikely to remain with me to various places or persons; but pray make\nthem understand that their scholar may not always be forthcoming.\nAnyhow, their alms would go to the support of some Melanesian, who would\nbe their scholar as it were for the time being.\n\n'You would perhaps feel interested in knowing that the Gospel of St.\nLuke has been printed in the Mota language, to a great extent by our\nscholars, and that George Sarawia is printing now the Acts, composing\nit, and doing press-work and all. Young Wogale (about thirteen) prints\nvery fairly, and sent off 250 copies of a prayer, which the Bishop of\nNelson wanted for distribution, of which everything was done by him\nentirely. They both began to learn about last November.\n\n'When morning school is over at 10 A.M., all hands, \"dons\" and all,\nare expected to give their time to the Mission till 12.45. Mr. Pritt\nis general overlooker (which does not mean doing nothing himself) of\ndomestic work: kitchen, garden, farm, dairy, &c. You know that we have\nno servants. Mr. Palmer prints and teaches printing. Atkin works at\nwhatever may be going on, and has a large share of work to get ready for\nme, and to read with me: Greek Testament, 12 to 12.45, Greek and Latin\nfrom 2 to 3. So all the lads are busy at out-door work from 10 to 12.45;\nand I assure you, under Mr. Pritt's management, we begin to achieve\nconsiderable results in our farm and garden work. We are already\neconomising our expenditure greatly by keeping our own cows, for which\nwe grow food (a good deal artificial), and baking our own bread. We sell\nsome of our butter, and have a grand supply of milk for our scholars,\nperhaps the very best kind of food for them.\n\n'If we can manage to carry on a winter's school here with some ten or\ntwelve of the lads left under Mr. Pritt's charge, while I go off with\nthe rest, I really think that the industrial department may become\nsomething considerable. It is an essential part of the system, for we\nmust begin with teaching habits of order, punctuality, &c:, in respect\nof those things with which they have already some acquaintance. No\nMelanesian can understand why he is to sit spelling away at a black\nboard; and he is not like a child of four or five years old, he must\nbe taught through his power of reasoning, and perceiving the meaning\nof things. Secondly, we can gradually invest the more advanced scholars\nwith responsible duties. There are the head cooks in the various weeks,\nthe heads of departments in garden work, &c., &c. As these lads and\nmen are being trained (we hope) to teach others, and as we want them to\nteach industry, decency, cleanliness, punctuality, to be, and to teach\nothers to be honest, and careful, and thoughtful, so we find all these\nlessons are learnt more in the industrial work than in the mere book\nwork, though that is not neglected. Indeed school, in the restricted\nsense of the word, is going on for four or four and a half hours a day.\n\n'The main difficulty remains, of retaining our hold upon boys. Oh that I\ncould live permanently in twenty islands at once! But I can't do so even\nin one; and all the letter-writing and accounts, and, worst of all,\nthe necessity for being trustee for matters not a bit connected with\nMelanesia, because there is no one else, interferes sadly with my\ntime. I think I could work away with the languages, &c., and really do\nsomething with these fellows, but I never get a chance. I never have two\ndays together which I can spend exclusively at Melanesian work. And I\nought to have nothing whatever to distract me. Twenty languages calling\nfor arrangement and comparison causes confusion enough!'\n\nThese interruptions made the Kohimarama life trying. 'As for\ncorrespondence,' says the birthday despatch to Fanny, 'why this mail\nmy letters to Victoria alone are twelve, let alone Sydney, Brisbane,\nAdelaide, Tasmania, New Zealand, and England. Then three sermons a week,\noccasional services, reading up for a most difficult session of General\nSynod, with really innumerable interruptions from persons of all kinds.\nSometimes I do feel tempted to long for Curtis Island merely to get\naway from New Zealand! I feel as if I should never do anything here.\nEverything is in arrears. I turn out of a morning and really don't know\nwhat to take up first. Then, just as I am in the middle of a letter (as\nyesterday) down comes some donkey to take up a quarter of an hour (lucky\nif not an hour) with idle nonsense; then in the afternoon an invasion\nof visitors, which is worst of all. That fatal invention of \"calling\"!\nHowever, I never call on anyone, and it is understood now, and people\ndon't expect it. I have not even been to Government House for more than\na year!\n\n'There, a good explosion does one good! But why must idle people\ninterfere with busy men? I used to make it up by sitting up and getting\nup very early indeed; but somehow I feel fit for nothing but sleeping\nand eating now.'\n\nAfter an absence of three weeks at the General Synod at Christchurch,\nthe Bishop took up such of his party as were to return, and sailed home,\nleaving those whom he thought able to brave the winter with Mr. and Mrs.\nPritt, on one of the first days of June. The first visit was one to the\nbereaved family at Norfolk Island, whence a brief note to his brother on\nthe 9th begins:--\n\n'Nothing can be more comforting to me than the loving patient spirit\nof these dear people. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Nobbs and all the brothers and\nsisters so good and so full of kindness to me. It was very trying when\nI first met them yesterday. They came and kissed me, and then, poor\nthings, fairly gave way, and then I began to talk quietly about Edwin\nand Fisher, and they became calm, and we knelt and prayed together.'\n\nAfter landing the Bishop at Mota, the others crossed to Port Patteson\nwhere they found Fisher Young's grave carefully tended, kept clear of\nweeds, and with a fence round it. After establishing Mr. Palmer at the\nstation at Mota, the Bishop re-embarked for Santa Maria, where, at the\nnorth-east--Cock Sparrow Point, as some one had appropriately called\nit--the boat was always shot at; but at a village called Lakona, the\npeople were friendly, and five scholars had come from thence, so the\nBishop ventured on landing for the night, and a very unpleasant night\nit, was--the barrack hut was thronged with natives, and when the heat\nwas insufferable and he tried to leave it, two of his former scholars\nadvised him strongly to remain within.\n\nIt was bad weather too, and there was some difficulty in fetching him\noff, and he was thankful that the wet had hindered more than 300 or 400\nnatives from collecting; there was no possibility of speaking to them\nquietly, for the sight of the boat suggested trading, and they flocked\nround as he was fetched off, half a dozen swimming out and begging to go\nto New Zealand. He took three old scholars and one new one, and sent the\nothers off with fish-hooks, telling them that if they would not behave\nat Lakona as he liked, he would not do as they liked. However, no arrows\nwere shot.\n\nThen while the 'Southern Cross,' with Mr. Tilly and Mr. Atkin, went on\nto land the Solomon Island scholars, the work at Mota was resumed in\nfull force. It seems well worth while to dwell on the successive steps\nin the conversion of this place, and the following letter shows the\nstate of things in the season of 1865:--\n\n\n'Mota: July 4, 1865.\n\n'My dearest Sisters and Brother,--I must write a joint letter for all,\nwith little notes if I have anything more special for anyone of you. I\nwish you could see this place. The old hut is queer enough certainly,\nquite open on one side, and nearly so on another, but it is\nweather-tight in the middle, with forms to sit on and a table or two\nlike a kitchen table, on which I read and write by day, and sleep by\nnight. Last night we killed five lizards; they get on the roof and drop\ndown and bite pretty severely, so seeing these running all about, we\nmade a raid upon them, poor things. The great banyan tree is as grand\nas ever, a magnificent tree, a forest in itself, and the view of the sea\nunder its great branches, and of the islands of Matlavo and Valua, is\nbeautiful.\n\n'At daylight I turn off my table and dress, not elaborately--a flannel\nshirt, old trousers and shoes; then a yam or two is roasted on the\nembers, and the coffee made, and (fancy the luxury here in Mota!)\ndelicious goat's milk with it. Then the morning passes in reading,\nwriting, and somewhat desultory talking with people, but you can't\nexpect punctuality and great attention. Then at one, a bit of biscuit\nand cheese (as long as the latter lasts). Mr. Palmer made some bread\nyesterday. Then generally a walk to meet people at different villages,\nand talk to them, trying to get them to ask me questions, and I try to\nquestion them. Then at 6 P.M., a tea-ation, viz., yam and coffee, and\nperhaps a crab or two, or a bit of bacon, or some good thing or other.\nBut I forgot! this morning we ate a bit of our first full-grown and\nfully ripe Mota pine-apple (I brought some two years ago) as large and\nfine as any specimens I remember in hot-houses. If you mention all these\nluxuries, we shall have no more subscriptions, but you may add that\nthere is as yet no other pineapple, though our oranges, lemons, citrons,\nguavas, &c., are coming on. Anyone living here permanently might make a\nbeautiful place indeed, but it becomes sadly overgrown in our absence,\nand many things we plant are destroyed by pigs, &c.\n\n'Then after tea--a large party always witnessing that ceremony--there is\nan hour or so spent in speaking again to the people, and then I read a\nlittle with Wadrokala and Carry. Then Mr. Palmer and I read a chapter of\nVaughan on the Revelation, then prayers, and so to bed. It seems as if\nlittle was done--certain talks with people, sometimes many, sometimes\nfew; yet, on the whole, I hope an increased acquaintance with our\nteaching. You can well understand that the consciousness of sin and the\nneed of a Redeemer may be talked about, but cannot be stated so as\nto make one feel that one has stated it in the most judicious and\nattractive manner. Of course it is the work of God's Spirit to work this\nconviction in the heart. But it is very hard so to speak of it as\nto give (if you can understand me) the heathen man a fair chance of\naccepting what you say. Forgetfulness of God; ingratitude to the Giver\nof life, health, food; ignorance of the Creator and the world to come,\nof the Resurrection and Life Everlasting, are all so many proofs to\nus of a fallen and depraved state. But the heathen man recognises some\noutward acts as more or less wrong; there he stops. \"Yes, we don't fight\nnow, nor quarrel, nor steal so much as we used to do. We are all right\nnow.\"\n\n'\"Are you? I never taught you to think so. You tell me that you believe\nthat the Son of God came down from heaven. What did He come for? What is\nthe meaning of what you say that He died for us?\"\n\n'It is the continual prayer and effort of the Christian minister\neverywhere, that God would deepen in his own heart the sense of sin, and\ncreate it in the mind of the heathen. And then the imperfect medium of a\nlanguage very far from thoroughly known! It is by continual prayer, the\nintercession of Christ, the power of the Spirit (we well know) that the\nwork must be carried on. How one does understand it! The darkness seems\nso thick, the present visible world so wholly engrosses the thoughts,\nand yet, you see, there are many signs of progress even here, in changed\nhabits to some extent, in the case of our scholars, real grounds of hope\nfor the future. One seems to be doing nothing, yet surely if no change\nbe wrought, what right have we to expect it. It is not that I looked for\nresults, but that I seek to be taught how to teach better. The Collect\nfor the first Sunday after Epiphany is wonderful.\n\n'It requires a considerable effort to continually try to present to\noneself the state of the heathen mind, to select illustrations, &c.,\nsuitable to his case. And then his language has never been used by him\nto set forth these new ideas; there are no words which convey the ideas\nof repentance, sin, heartfelt confession, faith, &c. How can there be,\nwhen these ideas don't exist? Yet somehow the language by degrees\nis made the exponent of such ideas, just as all religious ideas are\nexpressed in English by words now used in their second intention, which\nonce meant very different and less elevated ideas.\n\n'I find everywhere the greatest willingness to listen. Everywhere I take\nmy pick of boys, and now for any length of time. That is the result of\neleven scholars remaining now in New Zealand. Everyone seems to wish to\ncome. I think I shall take away five or six young girls to be taught at\nKohimarama, to become by and by wives for scholars. Else the Christian\nlad will have to live with a heathen girl. But all this, if carried out\nproperly, would need a large number of scholars from only one island. At\nCurtis Island, indeed (should it answer and supply plenty of food), we\nmight hope to have a school some day of 300 or 400, and then thirty or\nforty from each island could be educated at once; but it can't be so in\nNew Zealand. And a good school on an island before a certain number are\ntrained to teach could not, I think, be managed successfully. I feel\nthat I must concentrate more than hitherto. I must ascertain--I have\nto some extent ascertained--the central spots upon which I must chiefly\nwork. This is not an easy thing, nevertheless, to find out, and it has\ntaken years. Then using them as centres, I must also find out how far\nalready the dialect of that spot may extend, how far the people of the\nplace have connections, visiting acquaintances, &c. elsewhere, and to\nuse the influence of that place to its fullest extent. Many islands\nwould thus fall under one centre, and thus I think we may work. My mind\nis so continually, day and night, I may say, working on these points,\nthat I dare say I fill up my letters with nothing else. But writing on\nthese points helps me to see my way.'\n\n\nOn July 7, an expedition to Aroa seems to have overtired Bishop\nPatteson, and a slight attack of fever and ague came on. One of his\naunts had provided him with a cork bed, where, after he had exerted\nhimself to talk to his many visitors, he lay 'not uncomfortably.' He\nwas not equal to going to a feast where he hoped to have met a large\nconcourse, and after a day of illness, was taken back to Mota in the\nbottom of the boat; but in another week more revived, and went on with\nhis journal, moralising on the books he had been reading while laid up.\n\n'I looked quite through Bishop Mackenzie's life. What a beautiful\nstory it is! what a truthful, simple, earnest character, and that\npersuasiveness that only real humility and self-forgetfulness and\nthoughtfulness can give. Then his early desire to be useful, his\nCambridge life, the clear way in which he was being led on all through.\nIt is very beautiful as an illustration of the best kind of help that\nGod bestows on His children. Here was one so evidently moulded and\nfashioned by Him, and that willingly, for so it must be, and his life\nwas just as it should be, almost as perfect perhaps as a life can be.\nWhat if his work failed on the Shire? First, his work has not failed to\nbegin with, for aught we know; and secondly his example is stimulating\nwork everywhere. I shall indeed value his Thomas a Kempis. [A copy sent\nhome from the Zambesi stained with the water of the Shire, and sent to\nthe Bishop by Miss Mackenzie].\n\nThe ship returned with tidings that the more important scholars would\nbe ready to come back after a short holiday with their friends, and the\nBishop embarked again on the 29th. At Mai he landed, and slept ashore,\nwhen little Petere, the son of the young man whose death had so nearly\nbeen revenged on the Bishop, a boy of eight years old, did the honours\nas became a young chief, and announced, 'I am going to New Zealand with\nyou.' No one made any attempt to prevent him; but the old scholars did\nnot show themselves helpful, and only one of them, besides three more\nnew ones, came away. The natives were personally friendly, but there was\nno sign of fighting being lessened among them.\n\nAt Whitsuntide there was a brisk trade in yams, but no scholars were\nbrought away; the parents would not part with any young enough to be\nlikely to be satisfactory pupils, nor would the one last year's scholar\ncome. Here intelligence was received that a two-masted ship had been\nat Leper's Island, a quarrel had taken place and some natives had been\nshot. It was therefore decided that it would not be safe to land, but\nas the vessel sailed along the coast, numerous canoes came out, bringing\nboars' tusks for sale. Three boys who had been taken on a cruise of six\nweeks the year before, eagerly came on board, and thirty or forty more.\nAll the parents were averse to letting them go, and only two ended by\nbeing brought away: Itole, a young gentleman of fourteen or so, slim\nand slight, with a waist like a wasp, owing to a cincture worn night\nand day, and his hair in ringlets, white with coral-lime; his friend a\nlittle older, a tall, neat-limbed fellow, not dark and with little of\nthe negro in his features.\n\nA letter to me was written during this cruise, from which I give an\nextract:--\n\n'It was a great delight to me to receive a letter from Mr. Keble, by\nthe February mail from England. How kind of him to write to me; and his\nwords are such a help and encouragement.\n\n'I dare say I shall see Merivale's Lectures soon. Nothing can well be\nso wonderful, as a proof of God's hand controlling and arranging all the\ncourse of history to those who need it, as a subject for adoration and\npraise, to those who need not such proof, than the vast preparation made\nfor the coming of Christ and the spreading of the Gospel. To popularise\nthis the right way, and bring it home to the thought of many who have\nnot time nor inclination for much reading, must be a good work. I\nsuppose that all good Church histories deal with that part of the\nsubject; it is natural for the mere philosopher to do so.\n\n'And think how the early Alexandrian teachers used the religious\nyearnings of the East to draw men to the recognition of their wants,\nsupplied and satisfied only in Christianity. Often it is the point\nd'appui that the Missionary must seek for. There is an element of faith\nin superstition; we must fasten on that, and not rudely destroy the\nsuperstition, lest with it we destroy the principle of faith in things\nand beings unseen. I often think, that to shake a man's faith in his\nold belief, however wrong it may be, before one can substitute something\ntrue and right, is, to say the least, a dangerous experiment. But\npositive truth wins its way without controversy, while error has no\npositive existence, and there is a craving for truth deep down in the\nheathen heart.\n\n'Do you remember that grand passage of Hooker, where he says that he\ncannot stand to oppose all the sophisms of Romanism, only that he will\nplace against it a structure of truth, before which, as Dagon before the\nArk, error will be dashed in fragments?\n\n'In our work (and so I suppose in a Sunday school) one must think out\neach step, anticipate each probable result, before one states anything.\nIt is of course full of the highest interest. Can't you fancy a party of\ntwenty or thirty dark naked fellows, when (having learnt to talk freely\nto them) I question them about their breakfast and cocoa-nut trees,\ntheir yams and taro and bananas, &c., \"Who gave them to you? Can you\nmake them grow? Why, you like me and thank me because I give you a few\nhatchets, and you have never thought of thanking Him all these long\nyears.\"\n\n'\"It is true, but we didn't think.\"\n\n'\"But will you think if I tell you about Him?\"\n\n'\"He gave them rain from heaven and fruitful seasons.\"\n\n'How it takes one back to the old thoughts, the true philosophy of\nreligion. Sometimes I lie awake and think \"if Jowett and others could\nsee these things!\"\n\n'And yet, if it is not presumptuous in me to say so, I do think\nthat this work needs men who can think out principle and supply any\nthoughtful scholar or enquirer with some good reason for urging this\nor that change in the manners and observances of the people. Often as\nI think of it, I feel how greatly the Church needs schools for\nmissionaries, to be prepared not only in Greek and Latin and manual\nwork, but in the mode of regarding heathenism. It is not a moment's work\nto habitually ask oneself, \"Why feel indignant? How can he or she\nknow better?\" It is not always easy to be patient and to remember the\nposition which the heathen man occupies and the point of view from which\nhe must needs regard everything brought before him.\n\n'Thank you for Maclear's book. It is a clear statement of the leading\nfacts that one wishes to know, a valuable addition to our library.\nYou know, no doubt, a book which I like much, Neander's \"Light in Dark\nPlaces.\"\n\n'I shall remember about Miss Mackenzie's memoir of that good Mrs.\nRobertson. I wonder that men are not found to help Mr. Robertson. Here,\nas you know, the climate (as in Central Africa) is our difficulty. I\nthink sometimes I make too much of it, but really I don't see how a man\nis to stand many months of it. But I can't help thinking and hoping that\nif that difficulty did not exist I could see my way to saying, \"Now,\na missionary is wanted for these four or five or six islands, one for\neach, and a younger man as fellow-helper to that missionary,\" and they\nwould be forthcoming.\n\n'Yet doubtless I don't estimate fairly the difficulties and hardships\nas they appear to the man who has never left England, and is not used\nto knocking about. I should have felt the same years ago but for the\nthought of being with the Primate, at least I suppose so.\n\n'Well, I have written a very dull letter, but the place from which it\ncomes will give it some interest. I really think that not Mota only, but\nthe Banks Islands are in a hopeful state.\n\n'Next year (D.V.) Mr. Palmer will try the experiment of stopping here\nfor eight or ten months. I almost dare to hope that a few years may make\ngreat changes. Yet it seems as if nothing were done in comparison with\nwhat remains to be done.\n\n'Sarah, Sarawia's wife, pronounced that as she was always ill at home,\nshe would risk the New Zealand winter; two more married pairs came, and\nfour little maidens to be bred up under Mrs. Pritt, girls from twelve to\neight years old, of whom Sarah was quite able to take charge.'\n\nThere was the usual proportion of lads from various islands; but the\nmost troublesome member of the community seems to have been Wadrokala's\nthree years old daughter. 'I have daily to get Wadrokala and Carry to\nprevent their child from being a nuisance to everybody.' But this might\nhave been a difficulty had she been white.\n\nThis large party had to be taken to the Solomon Isles to complete the\nparty, sailing in company with the 'Curacoa,' the Commodore's ship, when\nthe local knowledge and accurate surveying done by Mr. Tilly and Mr.\nKerr proved very valuable, and Sir William Wiseman gave most kind and\nwilling assistance.\n\nSince his short interview with the Bishop off Norfolk Island, he had\nbeen cruising in the New Hebrides. There some of the frequent outrages\nof the traders had made the people savage and suspicious, and one of the\nMissionaries of the London Missionary Society living at Tanna had been\nthreatened, driven away across the island, and his property destroyed.\nHe had appealed for protection as a British subject, and Sir William\nWiseman had no choice but to comply; so after warning had been sent to\nthe tribe chiefly concerned to quit their village, it was shelled and\nburnt. No one seems to have been hurt, and it was hoped that this\nwould teach the natives to respect their minister--whether to love his\ninstruction was another question.\n\nThis would not have been worth mentioning had not a letter from on board\nthe 'Curacoa' spoken of chastising a village for attacking a Missionary.\nIt went the round of the English papers, and some at once concluded\nthat the Missionary could be no other than the Bishop. Articles\nwere published with the usual disgusting allusions to the temptation\npresented by a plump missionary; and also observing with more justice\nthat British subjects had no right to run into extraordinary peril and\nappeal to their flag for protection.\n\nEvery friend or relative of Bishop Patteson knew how preposterous the\nsupposition was, and his brother took pains to contradict the rumour.\nAs a matter of fact, as his letters soon proved, he was not only not in\ncompany with the 'Curacoa' at the time, but had no knowledge either of\nthe outrage or the chastisement, till Sir William Wiseman mentioned it\nto him when they were together at Sydney.\n\nAt Ysabel or Mahya, the party was made up to sixty, seven married\ncouples and seven unmarried girls among them. The female population\nwas stowed away at night in the after cabins, with 'arrangements quite\nsatisfactory to them, as they were quite consistent with propriety, but\nwhich would somewhat startle unaccustomed folk.'\n\nThe 'Curapoa' stood in the offing while Sta. Cruz was visited, or rather\nwhile the 'Southern Cross' approached, for the Bishop thought it\nbetter not to risk landing; but numerous canoes came off, and all the\ncuriosities were bought which were offered in hopes of reestablishing\na friendly relation. There was reason to think the people of this group\nmore than usually attached to the soil, and very shy and distrustful,\nowing perhaps to the memories left by the Spaniards.\n\nThence the 'Southern Cross' sailed across for an inspection of Curtis\nIsland, and again with a favourable impression; but the Brisbane\nParliament had just been prorogued, everyone was taking holiday, and the\nBishop therefore gave up his visit to that place, and sent the vessel\nstraight home to Auckland with her cargo of souls, while he returned to\nSydney to carry on the same work as in the former year. Here one great\ndelight and refreshment to him was a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Mort at their\nbeautiful home at Greenoaks. What a delight it must have been to\nfind himself in a church built by his host himself! 'one of the most\nbeautiful things I have seen, holds about 500 people; stained glass,\ncarved stalls, stone work, &c.,--perfect.' And the house, 'full of\nfirst-rate works of art, bronzes, carvings, &c.,' was pleasant to the\neyes that had been so enthusiastic in Italy and Germany, and had so\nlong fasted from all beauty but that of Nature, in one special type. The\nfriends there were such as to give life and spirit to all these external\ncharms, and this was a very pleasant resting place in his life. To Sir\nJohn Coleridge he writes:--\n\n'I am having a real holiday. This place, Greenoaks, the really\nmagnificent place of my good friends Mr. and Mrs. Mort, is lovely. The\nview of the harbour, with its land-locked bays, multitude of vessels,\nwooded heights, &c., is not to be surpassed; and somehow I don't\ndisrelish handsome rooms and furniture and pictures and statues and\nendless real works of art in really good taste.\n\n'One slips into these ways very readily. I must take care I am not\nspoilt. Everyone, from the governor downwards, lays himself out to make\nmy visit pleasant. They work me hard on Sundays and week days, but it\nis a continual round of, I don't deny, to me, pleasurable occupation.\nKindly people asked to meet me, and the conversation always turned to\npleasant and useful subjects: Church government, principles of Mission\nwork, &c. These colonies, unfortunate in many ways, are fortunate in\nhaving governors and others in high position who are good men, and the\nclass of people among whom my time is spent might (me judice) hold its\nposition among the best English society.\n\n'I am very intimate with some few families, drop in and set the young\nladies down to play Beethoven and Mendelssohn, and it is a nice change,\nand refreshes me.'\n\nFrom Sydney the Bishop went to Adelaide and Melbourne, and these five\nweeks in Australia obtained about 800 pounds for the Mission; the Bishop\nof Sydney had hoped to raise more, but there had been two years of\nterrible drought and destruction of cattle, and money was not\nabundant. The plan of sending Australian blacks to be educated with\nthe Melanesians was still entertained; but he had not much hope of this\nbeing useful to the tribes, though it might be to the individuals, and\nnone of them ever were sent to him.\n\nBut what had a more important effect on the Mission was a conference\nbetween Sir William Wiseman and Sir John Young, the Governor of New\nSouth Wales, resulting in an offer from the latter of a grant of land\non Norfolk Island for the Mission, for the sake of the benefit to the\nPitcairners; at the same time the Commodore offered him a passage in the\n'Curacoa' back to Auckland, touching at Norfolk Island by the way. The\nplan was carried out, and brought him home in time for Christmas, to\nfind all and prosperous under Mr. Pritt at St. Andrew's. His mind was\nnearly made up on the expedience of a change to a place which was likely\nto suit both English and tropical constitutions alike, and he hoped to\nmake the experiment the ensuing winter with Mr. Palmer and a small body\nof scholars.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X. THE EPISCOPATE AT KOHIMARAMA. 1866.\n\n\n\nThe removal of his much-loved correspondent did not long withhold the\noutpouring of Bishop Patteson's heart to his family; while his work was\ngoing on at the College, according to his own definition of education\nwhich was given about this time in a speech at St. John's: 'Education\nconsists in teaching people to bear responsibilities, and laying the\nresponsibilities on them as they are able to bear them.'\n\nMeanwhile, he wrote as follows to Miss Mackenzie, on receiving the book\nshe had promised to send him as a relic of her brother:--\n\n\n'January 1, 1866.\n\n'My dear Miss Mackenzie,--I have this evening received your brother's\nThomas a Kempis, and your letter. I valued the letter much, as a true\nfaithful record of one whom may God grant that I may know hereafter, if,\nindeed, I may be enabled to follow him as he followed Christ. And as\nfor the former, what can I say but I hope that the thought of your dear\nbrother may help me to read that holy book in something of the spirit in\nwhich he read and meditated on it.\n\n'It seems to bring me very near to him in thought. Send me one of his\nautographs to paste into it. I don't like to cut out the one I have in\nthe long letter to the Scottish Episcopal Church, which you kindly sent\nme.\n\n'I found, too, in one of Mr. Codrington's boxes, a small sextant for me,\nwhich, being packed with the Thomas a Kempis, I think may have been your\nbrother's. Do you really mean this for me too? If so, I shall value it\nscarcely less than the book. Indeed, I think that, divided as I am from\nall relations and home influences and affections, I cling all the more\nto such means as I may still enjoy of keeping up associations. I like\nto have my father's watch-chain in use, and to write on his old desk.\nI remember my inkstand in our drawing-room in London. So I value much\nthese memorials of the first Missionary Bishop of the Church of England,\nin modern days at all events, and night by night as I read a few lines\nin his book, and think of him, it brings me, I hope, nearer in spirit to\nhim and to others, who, like him, have done their duty well and now rest\nin Christ.\n\n'We are pretty well now (Jan. 20), but one very promising lad sank last\nweek in low fever; a good truthful lad he was, and as I baptized him at\nmidnight shortly before he died, I felt the great blessing of being able\nwith a very clear conscience to minister to him that holy sacrament; and\nso he passed away, to dwell, I trust, with his Lord.\n\n'What a revelation to that spirit in its escape from the body! But I\nmust not write on. With many thanks once again for these highly-valued\nmemorials of your brother,\n\n'I remain, my dear Miss Mackenzie,\n\n'Very truly yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe sandal-wood referred to in the following letter was the brother's\ngift to a church, All Saints, Babbicombe, in which his sisters were\ndeeply interested, and of which their little nephew laid the first\nstone:--\n\n\n'St. Matthias' Day.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--You are thinking of me to-day, I know, but you\nhardly know that in an hour or two I hope the Primate will ride down and\nbaptize nine of our Melanesian scholars.\n\n'The last few weeks have been a happy, though of course an anxious time,\nand now to-day the great event of their lives is to take place. May God\ngrant that the rest of their lives may be like this beginning!\n\n'We avoid all fuss. I don't like anyone being here but the Primate and\nMrs. Selwyn, yet I think some dozen more may come, though I don't like\nit. I need not say that making a scene on such occasions is to my\nmind very objectionable. I could much prefer being quite alone. I have\ntranslated some appropriate Psalms, but the 2nd and 57th they hardly\nknow as yet quite well; so our service will be Psalms 96, 97, 114; 1st\nlesson 2 Kings, v. 9--15, Magnificat; 2nd lesson Acts viii. 5-12,\nand the Baptismal Service. Henry Tagalana reads the first, and George\nSarawia the second lesson. Then will come my quiet evening, as, I trust,\na close of an eventful day. I have your English letters of December,\nwith the news of Johnny laying the stone. I am thankful that that good\nwork is begun. Sir John Young writes to me that I can have a gift of 100\nacres at Norfolk Island, with permission to buy more. I think that, all\nbeing well, I shall certainly try it with a small party next summer, the\nmain body of scholars being still brought to Kohimarama.\n\n'The sandal-wood is not yet gone! But, my dear Joan, the altar of\nsandal-wood! If it is to be solid and not veneered, why, \u00a350 would not\nbuy it at Erromango. It sells in Sydney for about \u00a370 a ton, and it is\nvery heavy wood. However, I will send some of the largest planks I ever\nsaw of the wood, and it is now well seasoned. It cost me \u00a314 merely to\nwork it into a very simple lectern, so hard is the grain.\n\n'What has become of the old Eton stamp of men? Have you any in\nEngland? I must not run the risk of the Mission being swamped, by\nwell-intentioned, but untaught men. We must have gentlemen of white\ncolour, or else I must rely wholly, as I always meant to do chiefly, on\nmy black gentlemen; and many of them are thorough gentlemen in feeling\nand conduct, albeit they don't wear shoes.\n\n'It was a most impressive service. The dear Primate looking worn and\nsomewhat aged, very full of feeling; the two most advanced, George and\nHenry, in their surplices, reading the Lessons; the nine candidates\nlooking so reverent and grave, yet not without self-possession.\n\n'As he signed each one with the sign of the Cross, his left hand resting\non the head of each, the history of the Mission rushed into my mind, the\nfruit of the little seed be sowed when, eight years ago, he thought it\nwisest not to go ashore at Mota, and now more than twenty Christians of\nthe Banks Islands serve God with prayers night and day.\n\n'What would you have thought, if you could have been there? Our little\nchapel looked nice with the red hangings and sandal-wood lectern.\n\n'Then we had a quiet cup of tea, and the old and new baptized party had\na quiet talk with me till 8.30, when I sent them away.\n\n'And then after an hour I was alone. That I should have been already\nfive years a Bishop, and how much to think of and grieve over, something\ntoo to be thankful for. Perhaps after all, dear Edwin and Fisher stand\nout most clearly from all the many scenes and circumstances.\n\n'And now what is to come? This move to Norfolk Island? Or what?\n\"Something,\" you say; \"perhaps in time showing the Governor that the\nMelanesians are not so very wild.\" But it is another Governor; and so\nfar from the Melanesians being wild, it is expressly on the ground that\nthe example of the school will be beneficial that I am asked to go!\n\n'Tell all who may care to know it about our St. Matthias' Day, I must\ngive myself the pleasure of writing one line to Mr. Keble. I won't write\nmany lest I weary him, dear good man. I like to look at his picture, and\nhave stuck the photograph of Mr. and Mrs. Keble which Charlotte Yonge\nsent me into the side of it. How I value his prayers and thoughts for us\nall!\n\n'Your loving brother,\n\n'J. C. P.\n\n'P.S.--No terms of full communion between the Home and the Colonial\nChurch can be matter of Parliamentary legislation. It is the \"One Faith,\nOne Lord,\" that binds us together; and as for regulating the question\nof colonially ordained clergy ministering in English dioceses, you had\nbetter equalise your own Church law first for dealing with an Incumbent\nand a Curate.'\n\n\n'Auckland: Tuesday in Holy Week.\n\n'My dear Uncle,--I have long owed you a letter, but I have not written\nbecause I have had an unusual time of distraction. Now, all my things\nbeing on board the \"Southern Cross,\" I am detained by a foul wind. We\ncan do nothing till it changes; and I am not sorry to have a few quiet\nhours, though the thought of a more than usually serious separation from\nthe dear Primate and Mrs. Selwyn, Sir William and Lady Martin, hangs\nover my head rather gloomily. Still I am convinced, as far as I can\nbe of such matters, that this move to Norfolk Island is good for the\nMission on the whole. It has its drawbacks, as all plans have, but the\nbalance is decidedly in favour of Norfolk Island as against New Zealand.\nI have given reasons at length for this opinion in letters to Joan and\nFan, and also, I think, to Charlotte Yonge, who certainly deserves to\nknow all my thoughts about it.\n\n'But I may shortly state some of them, in case you may not have heard\nthem, because I should like this step to approve itself to your mind:--\n\n'1. Norfolk Island is 600 miles hearer to Melanesian islands than\nAuckland, and not only nearer in actual distance, but the 600 miles from\nNorfolk Island to Auckland are the cold and boisterous miles that must\nbe passed at the extremities of the voyages with no intervening lands to\ncall at and obtain a change for our large party on board.\n\n'2. The difficulty usually is to get westward when sailing from New\nZealand, by the North Cape of New Zealand, because the prevalent winds\nare from the west. So that usually the passage to Norfolk Island is a\nlong-one.\n\n'3. New Zealand is much to the east of Norfolk Island, and to go from\nthe Loyalty, New Hebrides, Banks, and Santa Cruz groups to New Zealand,\nit is necessary to make a long stretch out to the N.E. (the trades\nblowing from about S.E. by E.), standing down to S. on the other tack.\nBut Norfolk Island is almost due S. of other those groups.\n\n'4. I cannot come back from the islands during my winter voyage to New\nZealand, it is too distant; the coast is dangerous in the winter season\nand the cold too great for a party of scholars first coming from the\ntropics. But I can go backwards and forwards through the islands and\nNorfolk Island during the five winter months. It is not wise to sail\nabout in the summer, hurricanes being prevalent then.\n\n'5. As I can only make one return from the islands to New Zealand in\nthe year, I can only have a school consisting of (say) sixty Melanesians\nbrought in the very crowded vessel + (say) thirty left in New Zealand\nfor the winter; and I dare not attempt to leave many, for so much care\nis needed in the cold season. But in Norfolk Island I can have a school\nof any number, because I can make separate voyages thither from the\nBanks and Solomon Islands, &c., each time bringing a party of sixty, if\nI think fit.\n\n'6. The productions of Norfolk Island include the yam, taro (Caladium\nesculentum), sweet potato, sugar-cane, banana, almond, orange,\npine-apple, coffee, maize. Only cocoa-nut and bread-fruit are wanting,\nthat natives of Melanesia care much about.\n\n'7. There is no necessity for so violent a contrast as there must be in\nNew Zealand between the life with us and in their homes in respect of\ndress, food, and houses.\n\n'Light clothing and an improved style of native house and more cleanly\nway of eating their food--not of cooking it, for they are cleanly\nalready in that--may be adopted, and more easily perpetuated in their\nown homes than the heavy clothing necessary here, and the different\nstyle of houses and more English food.\n\n'This is very important, because with any abrupt change of the outer\nman, there is sometimes a more, very more natural abandonment of the\ninner thoughts and disposition and character. Just as men so often lose\nself-respect when they take to the bush life; or children who pray by\ntheir own little bedside alone, leave off praying in \"long chamber,\" the\noutward circumstances being altered.\n\n'I have for years thought that we seek in our Missions a great deal\ntoo much to make English Christians of our converts. We consciously and\nunanimously assume English Christianity (as something distinct I mean\nfrom the doctrines of the Church of England), to be necessary; much as\nso many people assume the relation of Church and State in England to\nbe the typical and normal condition of the Church, which should be\neverywhere reproduced. Evidently the heathen man is not treated fairly\nif we encumber our message with unnecessary requirements.\n\n'The ancient Church had its \"selection of fundamentals\"--a kind of\nsimple and limited expansion of the Apostles' Creed for doctrine and\nApostolic practice for discipline.\n\n'Notoriously the Eastern and Western mind misunderstood one another. The\nspeculative East and the practical West could not be made to think after\nthe same fashion. The Church of Christ has room for both.\n\n'Now any one can see what mistakes we have made in India. Few men think\nthemselves into the state of the Eastern mind, feel the difficulties\nof the Asiatic, and divine the way in which Christianity should be\npresented to him.\n\n'We seek to denationalise these races, as far as I can see; whereas\nwe ought surely to change as little as possible--only what is clearly\nincompatible with the simplest form of Christian teaching and practice.\n\n'I don't mean that we are to compromise truth, but to study the native\ncharacter, and not present the truth in an unnecessarily unattractive\nform.\n\n'Don't we overlay it a good deal with human traditions, and still more\noften take it for granted that what suits us must be necessary for them,\nand vice versa.\n\n'So many of our missionaries are not accustomed, not taught to think\nof these things. They grow up with certain modes of thought, hereditary\nnotions, and they seek to reproduce these, no respect being had to the\nutterly dissimilar character and circumstances of the heathen.\n\n'I think much about all this. Sir William Martin and I have much talk\nabout it; and the strong practical mind of the Primate, I hope, would\nkeep me straight if I was disposed to theorise, which I don't think is\nthe case.\n\n'But Christianity is the religion for humanity at large. It takes in all\nshades and diversities of character, race, &c.\n\n'The substratum of it is, so to say, inordinate and coextensive with the\nsubstratum of humanity--all men must receive that. Each set of men must\nalso receive many thing of secondary, yet of very great importance\nfor them; but in this class there will be differences according to the\ncharacteristic differences of men throughout the world.\n\n'I can't explain myself fully; but, dear Uncle, I think there is\nsomething in what I am trying to say.\n\n'I want to see more discrimination, more sense of the due proportion,\nthe relative importance of the various parts which make up the sum of\nextra teaching.\n\n'There is so great want of order in the methods so often adopted,\nwant of arrangement, and proper sequence, and subordination of one to\nanother.\n\n'The heathen man will assume some arbitrary dictate of a missionary to\nbe of equal authority and importance with a moral command of God, unless\nyou take care. Of course the missionary ought not to attempt to impose\nany arbitrary rule at all; but many missionaries do, and usually justify\nsuch conduct on the ground of their \"exceptional position.\"\n\n'But one must go much further. If I tell a man just beginning to\nlisten, two or three points of Christian faith, or two or three rules of\nChristian life, without any orderly connection, I shall but puzzle him.\n\n'Take, e.g., our English Sunday, I am far from wishing to change the\ngreater part of the method of observing it in England.\n\n'I hope the Melanesian Christians may learn to keep holy the Lord's Day.\nBut am I to begin my teaching of a wild Solomon Islander at that end;\nwhen he has not learned the evil of breaking habitually the sixth,\nseventh, and eighth Commandments?\n\n'I notice continually the tendency of the teaching of the very men who\ndenounce \"forms\" to produce formation.\n\n'It is nearest to the native mind; it generates hypocrisy and mere\noutward observance of certain rules, which, during the few years that\nthe people remain docile on their first acceptance of the new teaching,\nthey are content to submit to.\n\n'I see the great difficulty of making out all this. It necessitates\nthe leaving so very much to the discretion of the pioneer. Ergo the\nmissionary must not be the man who is not good enough for ordinary work\nin England, but the men whom England even does not produce in large\nnumbers with some power of dealing with these questions.\n\n'It is much better and safer to have a regular well-known rule to act\nby; but I don't see how you can give me, e.g., precise directions. It\nseems to me that you must use great care in selecting your man, and then\ntrust him fully.\n\n'I hope it is not an excess of self-conceit and self-reliance which\nmakes me pass by, rather lightly, I confess, some of the advice that\nvery well-intentioned people occasionally volunteer to missionaries. I\nhave had (D. Gr.) the Primate and Sir William Martin's men, who know what\nheathenism is, and the latter of whom has deeply studied the character\nof the various races of the world.\n\n'I mean that when some one said, \"Do you really mean to place those\nsavage Melanesians among the immaculate Pitcairners?\" the natural\nanswer seemed to me to be, \"I am not aware that you ever saw either a\nPitcairner or a Melanesian.\" I thought it rather impertinent. The truth\nis, that the great proportion of our Melanesian scholars in our school,\ni.e., not standing alone, but helped by the discipline of the school,\nare quite competent to set an example to the average Pitcairners. But\nthis I mark only as an illustration of my meaning. Occasionally I hear\nof some book or sermon or speech in which sound views (as I venture to\ncall them) are propounded on these points.\n\n'Always your loving and grateful Nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe next letter was called forth by my sorrowful communication of the\nshattered state of both my dear friends; of whom, one, at the very\ntime that my Cousin wrote, was already gone to his rest, having been\nmercifully spared the loneliness and grief we had feared for him.\n\n\n'St. Andrew's: April 24, 1866.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--I write a line at once in reply to a letter of January\n29, for I see that a great sorrow is hanging over you, is perhaps\nalready fallen on you, and I would fain say my word of sympathy,\npossibly of comfort.\n\n'One, perhaps, of the great blessings that a person in my position\nenjoys is that he must perforce see through the present gloom occasioned\nby loss of present companionship on to the joy beyond. I hear of the\ndeath of dear Uncle, and friends, and even of that loving and holy\nFather of mine, and somehow it seems all peace, and calmness, and joy.\nIt would not be so were I in England, to actually experience the sense\nof loss, to see the vacant seat, and miss the well-known voice; but it\nis (as I see) a great and most blessed alleviation to the loss of their\nsociety here below. You feel that when those loving hearts at Hursley\ncan no longer be a stay and comfort to you here, you will have a sense\nalmost of desolation pressing on you. You must, we all have, many trials\nand some sorrows, and I suppose Hursley has always been to you a city of\nrefuge and house of rest.\n\n'But I think the anticipation is harder than the reality. For him, but\nhow can I speak of such as he is? Why should we feel anxiety? Surely he\nis just the man upon whom we should expect some special suffering, which\nis but some special mark of love and (may we not say in such a case?) of\napprobation. Some special aid to a very close conformity to the mind and\ncharacter of Christ, to be sent in special love and mercy.\n\n'I always seem to think that in the case of good men the suffering is\nthe sure earnest of special nearness to God. It surely--if one may dare\nso to speak, and the case of Job warrants it, and the great passage\n\"Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have you\" (all)--is true that\nGod is glorified in the endurance of sufferings which He lays upon the\nsaints. And if dear Mr. Keble must suffer this last blow, as all through\nhis life he has felt the care of the Churches pressing sorely on him,\nand has even had to comfort the weary, and guide the wayward, and to\nendure disappointment, and to restrain the over zealotish, and\nreprove the thoughtless, and bear in his bosom the infirmities of many\npeople--why must we be unhappy about him, and why mourn for ourselves?\nGod forbid! It is only one mark of the cross stamped upon him, only one\nmore draught of the cup of the lacking measures of the afflictions of\nChrist. But you must, more than I, know and feel all this; and it is\nonly in attempting to put before your eyes your own thoughts, that I\nhave written this. For, indeed, I do sympathise with you, and I think\nhow to me, who knew him so little yet yield to no one in deep reverence\nand love for him, his departure would be almost what the passing away of\none of those who had seen the Lord must have been to those of old time;\nyet our time is not so very long now, and may be short, and we have had\nthis blessed example for a long time, and there is on all accounts far\nmore cause for joy than for sorrow.\n\n'You must not think me unkind to Miss Mackenzie, because I have written\nto Fan to say that my letters and anecdotes are not to be fishes to swim\nin her \"Net.\" It may be unwise in me to write all that kind of thing,\nbut it does such an infinity of harm by its reflex action upon us who\nare engaged in this work. And I can write brotherly letters, if they are\nto be treated as public property. I could not trust my own brother to\nmake extracts from my letters. No one in England can be a judge of\nthe mischief that the letters occasion printed contrary to my wish by\nfriends. We in the Mission think them so infinitely absurd, one-sided,\nexaggerated, &c., though we don't mean to make them so when we write\nthem.\n\n'We are all well, thank God, except a good fellow called Walter\nHotaswol, from Matlavo (Saddle Island), who is in a decline. He has had\ntwo bad haemorrhages; but he is patient, simple-minded, quite content\nto die, and not doubting at all his Father's love, and his Saviour's\nmerits, so I cannot grieve for him, though he was the one, humanly\nspeaking, to have led the way in his home.\n\n'You know that I sympathise with all your anxieties about Church\nmatters. Parliamentary legislation would be the greatest evil of all.\nAll your troubles only show that synodical action, and I believe with\nthe laity in the Synod, is the only cure for these troubles.\n\n'God bless you, my dear Cousin,\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nTo the sisters he wrote at the same time:--\n\n'I hear from Miss Yonge that Mrs. Keble is very ill--dying. But, as I\nwrote to her, why should such things grieve us? He will soon rejoin her,\nand so it is all peace and comfort. He was seventy-five, I think, last\nSt. Mark's Day, and I began a letter to him, but it was not fair to\nhim to give him the trouble of reading it, and I tore it up. He knows\nwithout it how I do love and revere him, and I cannot pluck up courage\nto ask for some little book which he has used, that there may be a\nsort of odour of sanctity about it, just as Bishop Mackenzie's Thomas a\nKempis, with him on the Zambesi, is on my table now.'\n\n\nBefore going forth with this 'lonely watcher' upon his voyage, the\ndescription of this season's work with his scholars must be given from a\nReport which he brought himself to write for the Eton Association. After\nsaying how his efforts were directed to the forming a number of native\nclergy in time to work among their own people, he continues:--'When\nuncivilised races come into contact with civilised men, they must either\nbe condemned to a hopeless position of inferiority, or they must be\nraised out of their state of ignorance and vice by appealing to those\npowers within them which God intended them to use, and the use of which\nwill place them by His blessing in the possession of whatever good\nthings may be denoted by the words Religion and Civilisation.\n\n'Either we may say to our Melanesian scholars, \"You can't expect to be\nlike us: you must not suppose that you can ever cease to be dependent on\nus, you must be content always to do as you are told by us, to be like\nchildren, as in malice so in knowledge; you can never be missionaries,\nyou may become assistant teachers to English missionaries whom you must\nimplicitly obey, you must do work which it would not be our place to do,\nyou must occupy all the lower and meaner offices of our society;\"--or,\nif we do not say this (and, indeed, no one would be likely to say it),\nyet we may show by our treatment of our scholars that we think and mean\nit.\n\n'Or we may say what was, e.g., said to a class of nineteen scholars who\nwere reading Acts ix.\n\n'\"Did our Lord tell Saul all that he was to do?\"\n\n'\"No.\"\n\n'\"What! not even when He appeared to him in that wonderful way from\nHeaven?\"\n\n'\"No.\"\n\n'\"What did the Lord say to him?\"\n\n'\"That he was to go into Damascus, and there it would be told him what\nhe was to do.\"\n\n'\"What means did the Lord use to tell Saul what he was to do?\"\n\n'\"He sent a man to tell him.\"\n\n'\"Who was he?\"\n\n'\"Ananias.\"\n\n'\"Do we know much about him?\"\n\n'\"No, only that he was sent with a message to Saul to tell him the\nLord's will concerning him and to baptize him.\"\n\n'\"What means did the Lord employ to make His will known to Saul?\"\n\n'\"He sent a disciple to tell him.\" '\"Did He tell him Himself\nimmediately?\"\n\n'\"No, He sent a man to tell him.\"\n\n'\"Mention another instance of God's working in the same way, recorded in\nthe Acts.\"\n\n'\"The case of Cornelius, who was told by the angel to send for Peter.\"\n\n'\"The angel then was not sent to tell Cornelius the way of salvation?\"\n\n'\"No, God sent Peter to do that.\"\n\n'\"Jesus Christ began to do the same thing when He was on earth, did He\nnot, even while He was Himself teaching and working miracles?\"\n\n'\"Yes; He sent the twelve Apostles and the seventy disciples.\"\n\n'\"But what is the greatest instance of all, the greatest proof to us\nthat God chooses to declare His will through man to man?\"\n\n'\"God sent His own Son to become man.\"\n\n'\"Could He not have converted the whole world in a moment to the\nobedience of faith by some other way?\"\n\n'\"Yes.\"\n\n'\"But what did He in His wisdom choose to do?\"\n\n'\"He sent His Son to be born of the Virgin Mary, to become man, and to\nwalk on this earth as a real man, and to teach men, and to die for men.\"\n\n'\"What does Jesus Christ call us men?\"\n\n'\"His brethren.\" '\"Who is our Mediator?\"\n\n'\"The Man Christ Jesus.\"\n\n'\"What means does God employ to make His will known to us?\"\n\n'\"He uses men to teach men.\"\n\n'\"Can they do this by themselves?\"\n\n'\"No, but God makes them able.\"\n\n'\"How have you heard the Gospel?\"\n\n'\"Because God sent you to us.\"\n\n'\"And now, listen. How are all your people still in ignorance to hear\nit? What have I often told you about that?\"\n\n'Whereupon the scholars looked shy, and some said softly, \"We must teach\nthem.\"\n\n'\"Yes, indeed you must!\"\n\n'And so the lesson ended with questioning them on the great duty and\nprivilege of prayer for God's Holy Spirit to give them both the will and\nthe power to do the work to which God is calling them.\n\n'So we constantly tell them \"God has already been very merciful to you,\nin that He has called you out of darkness into His marvellous light. He\nhas enabled you to receive the knowledge of His will, and to understand\nyour relations to Him. He has taught you to believe in Him, to pray to\nHim, to hope for salvation through the merits of His Son's death and\nresurrection. He has made you feel something of the power of His love,\nand has taught you the duty of loving Him and serving your brother. He\ncalls upon you now to rouse yourself to a sense of your true position,\nto use the gifts which He has given you to His glory and the good of\nyour brethren. Don't suppose that you are unable to do this. You\nare unable to do it, as you were unable to believe and love Him by\nyourselves, but He gives you strength for this very purpose that you may\nbe able to do it. You can do it through Christ, who strengtheneth you.\nOur fathers were not more able to teach their people once than you to\nteach your people now!\"\n\n'We make no distinction whatever between English and Melanesian members\nof the Mission as such. No Melanesian is excluded from any office of\ntrust. No classification is made of higher and lower kinds of work, of\nwork befitting a white man and work befitting a black man. English\nand Melanesian scholars or teachers work together in the school,\nprinting-office, dairy, kitchen, farm. The senior clergyman of the\nMission labours most of all with his own hands at the work which\nis sometimes described as menial work; and it is contrary to the\nfundamental principle of the Mission that anyone should connect with the\nidea of white man the right to fag a black boy.\n\n'Young men and lads come to us and say, \"Let me do that. I can't write\nthe languages, or do many things you or Mr. Pritt or Mr. Palmer do, so\nlet me scrub your floor, or brush your shoes, or fetch some water.\"\nAnd of course we let them do so, for the doing it is accompanied by no\nfeeling of degradation in their minds; they have seen us always doing\nthese things, and not requiring them to do them as if it were the\nnatural work for them, because they are black, and not proper for us,\nbecause we are white.\n\n'Last night, a young man, sitting by the fire, said to the Bishop, \"They\nwant you to stop with them in my land.\"\n\n'\"I wish with all my heart I could.\"\n\n'\"Yes, I know, you must go to so many places.\"\n\n'\"But they are different in your land now.\"\n\n'\"Oh! yes, they don't fight now as they used to do; they don't go about\narmed now.\"\n\n'\"Well, that is a thing to be thankful for. What is the reason of it, do\nyou think? \"\n\n\"Why they know about you, and see you now and then, and Henry Tagalana\ntalked to them, and I talked a little to them, and they asked me about\nour ways here, and they want to learn.\"\n\n'\"Well, there are now five of you from your island, and you must try\nhard to learn, that you may teach them, for remember you must do it, if\nGod spares your life.\"'\n\n'During the year 1865 a great advance was made in the industrial\ndepartment of our work. About seventeen acres of land were taken in hand\nand worked by Mr. Pritt, with the Melanesian lads. We have our own\ndairy of thirteen cows, and, besides supplying the whole Mission party,\nnumbering in all seventy-seven persons, with abundance of milk, we sell\nconsiderable quantities of butter. We grow, of course, our own potatoes\nand vegetables, and maize, &c., for our cows. The farm and dairy work\naffords another opportunity for teaching our young people to acquire\nhabits of industry.'\n\nCooking, farm, gardening, dairy-work, setting out the table, &c.,\nwere all honourable occupations, and of great importance in teaching\npunctuality and regularity, and the various arts and decencies of life\nto the youths, who were in time to implant good habits in their native\nhomes. Their natural docility made them peculiarly easy to manage and\ntrain while in hand; the real difficulty was that their life was so\nentirely different from their home, that there was no guessing how deep\nthe training went, and, on every voyage, some fishes slipped through the\nmeshes of the net, though some returned again, and others never dropped\nfrom their Bishop's hands. But he was becoming anxious to spare some of\nhis scholars the trial of a return to native life; and, as the season\nhad been healthy, he ventured on leaving twenty-seven pupils at St.\nAndrew's with Mr. and Mrs. Pritt, among them George and Sarah Sarawia.\n\nAfter Trinity Sunday, May 27, the 'Southern Cross' sailed, and the\noutward voyage gave leisure for the following letter to Prof. Max\nMuller, explaining why he could not make his knowledge of languages of\nmore benefit to philology while thus absorbed in practical work:--\n\n\n'\"Southern Cross,\" off Norfolk Ireland: June 6, 1866.\n\n'My dear Friend,--I am about to tire your patience heavily. For I\nmust find you some reasons for doing so little in making known these\nMelanesian dialects, and that will be wearisome for you to read; and,\nsecondly, I cannot put down clearly and consecutively what I want to\nsay. I have so very little time for thinking out, and working at any\none subject continuously, that my whole habit of mind becomes, I fear,\ninaccurate and desultory. I have so very many and so very different\noccupations, and so much anxiety and so many interruptions, as the\n\"friction\" that attends the working, of a new and somewhat untried\nmachine.'\n\n'You know that we are few in number; indeed (Codrington being absent)\nI have but two clergymen with me, and two young men who may be ordained\nby-and-by. Besides, had I the twenty troublesome men, whom you wish to\nbanish into these regions, what use would they or any men be until they\nhad learnt their work? And it must fall to me to teach them, and that\ntakes again much of my time; so that, as a matter of fact, there are\nmany things that I must do, even when all is going on smoothly; and\nshould sickness come, then, of course, my days and nights are spent\nin nursing poor lads, to whom no one else can talk, cheering up poor\nfellows seized with sudden nervous terror, giving food to those who will\ntake it from no one else, &c.\n\n'Then the whole management of the Mission must fall upon me; though I am\nmost thankful to say that for some time Mr. Pritt has relieved me from\nthe charge of all domestic and industrial works. He does everything of\nthat kind, and does it admirably, so that our institution really is a\nwell-ordered industrial school, in which kitchen work, dairy work, farm\nwork, printing, clothes making and mending, &c., are all carried on,\nwithout the necessity of having any foreign importation of servants,\nwho would be sure to do harm, both by their ideas as to perquisites (=\nstealing in the minds of our Melanesians), and by introducing the idea\nof paid labour; whereas now we all work together, and no one counts any\nwork degrading, and still less does any one qua white consider himself\nentitled to fag a Melanesian.\n\n'Mr. Tilly, R.N., has also quite relieved me from my duties as skipper,\nand I have no trouble about marine stores, shipping seamen, navigating\nthe vessel now. I cannot be too thankful for this; it, saves me time,\nanxiety, and worry; yet much remains that I must do, which is not\nconnected with peculiar work directly.\n\n'I can't refuse the Bishop of New Zealand when he presses me (for want\nof a better man) to be trustee of properties, and to engage in managing\nthe few educational institutions we have. I can't refuse to take some\nshare in English clerical work while on shore; indeed, in 1865, my good\nfriend Archdeacon Lloyd being ill, I took his parish (one and a half\nhour distant from Kohimarama), the most important parish in Auckland,\nfor some three months; not slacking my Melanesian work, though I could\nonly avoid going back by hard application, and could make no progress.\nThen I must attend our General Synod; and all these questions concerning\nthe colonial churches take some time to master, and yet I must know what\nis going on.\n\n'Then I must carry on all the correspondence of the Mission. I am always\nwriting letters. Every \u00a35 from any part of New Zealand or Australia I\nmust acknowledge; and everyone wants information, anecdotes, &c., which\nit vexes my soul to have to supply, but who else can do it? Then I keep\nall the accounts, very complicated, as you would say if you saw my big\nledger. And I don't like to be altogether behindhand in the knowledge\nof theological questions, and people sometimes write to me, and their\nletters need to be answered carefully. Besides, take my actual time\nspent in teaching. Shall I give you a day at Kohimarama?\n\n'I get in the full summer months an hour for reading by being dressed\nat 5.30 A.M. At 5.30 I see the lads washing, &c., 7 A.M. breakfast all\ntogether, in hall, 7.30 chapel, 8-9.30 school, 9.30-12.30 industrial\nwork. During this time I have generally half an hour with Mr. Pritt\nabout business matters, and proof sheets are brought me, yet I get a\nlittle time for preparing lessons. 12.45 short service in chapel, 1\ndinner, 2-3 Greek Testament with English young men, 3-4 classics with\nditto, 5 tea, 6.30 evening chapel, 7-8.30 evening school with divers\nclasses in rotation or with candidates for Baptism or Confirmation,\n8.30-9 special instruction to more advanced scholars, only a few. 9-10\nschool with two other English lay assistants. Add to all this, visitors\ninterrupting me from 4-5, correspondence, accounts, trustee business,\nsermons, nursing sick boys, and all the many daily unexpected little\ntroubles that must be smoothed down, and questions inquired into, and\nboys' conduct investigated, and what becomes of linguistics? So much\nfor my excuse for my small progress in languages! Don't think all this\negotistical; it is necessary to make you understand my position.\n\n'If I had spare time, leisure for working at any special work, perhaps\neleven years of this kind of life have unfitted me for steady sustained\nthought. And you know well I bring but slender natural qualifications\nto the task. A tolerably true ear and good memory for words, and now\nsomething of the instinctive insight into new tongues, but that is\nchiefly from continual practice.\n\n'But when I attempt to systematise, I find endless ramifications of\ncognate dialects rushing through my brain, by their very multitude\noverwhelming me, and though I see the affinities and can make practical\nuse of them, I don't know how to state them on paper, where to begin,\nhow to put another person in my position.\n\n'Again, for observation of the rapid changes in these dialects, I have\nnot much opportunity. For no one in Melanesia can be my informant. It\nis not easy where so many dialects must be known for practical purposes,\nfor the introductory part of Mission work, to talk to some wild naked\nold fellow, and to make him understand what I am anxious to ascertain.\nIt is a matter that has no interest for him, he never thought of it,\nhe doesn't know my meaning, what have we in common? How can I rouse him\nfrom his utter indifference, even if I know his language so well as to\ntalk easily, not to a scholar of my own, but to an elderly man, with\nnone but native ideas in his head?\n\n'All that I can do is to learn many dialects of a given archipelago,\npresent their existing varieties, and so work back to the original\nlanguage. This, to some extent, has been done in the Banks group, and\nin the eastern part of the Solomon Isles. But directly I get so far as\nthis, I am recalled to the practical necessity of using the knowledge\nof the several dialects rather to make known God's truth to the heathen\nthan to inform literati of the process of dialectic variation. Don't\nmistake me, my dear friend, or suspect me of silly sentimentalism. But\nyou can easily understand what it is to feel \"God has given to me only\nof all Christian men the power of speaking to this or that nation, and,\nmoreover, that is the work He has sent me to do.\" Often, I don't deny,\nI should like the other better. It is very pleasant to shirk my evening\nclass, e.g. and spend the time with Sir William Martin, discussing some\npoint of Melanesian philosophy. But then my dear lads have lost two\nhours of Christian instruction, and that won't do.\n\n'I don't need to be urged to do more in working out their languages. I\nam quite aware of the duty of doing all that I can in that way, and I\nwish to do it; but there are only twenty-four hours in the day and night\ntogether! I feel that it is a part of my special work, for each grammar\nand dictionary that I can write opens out the language to some other\nthan myself. But I am now apologising rather for my fragmentary way of\nwriting what I do write by saying that what I find enough, with my\nhelp given in school to enable one of my party to learn a dialect, I am\nalmost obliged to regard as a measure of the time that I ought to spend\non it.\n\n'Another thing, I have no outline provided for me, which I can fill up.\nMy own clear impression is that to attempt to follow the analogy of\nour complicated Greek and Latin grammars would not only involve certain\nfailure, but would mislead people altogether. I don't want to be hunting\nafter a Melanesian paulo-post-futurum. I had rather say, \"All men qua\nmen think, and have a power of expressing their thoughts. They have\nwants and express them. They use many different forms of speech in\nmaking that statement, if we look superficially at the matter, not so if\nwe look into it,\" and so on. Then, discarding the ordinary arrangement\nof grammars, explain the mode of thought, the peculiar method of\nthinking upon matters of common interest, in the mind of the Melanesian,\nas exhibited in his language. An Englishman says, \"When I get there, it\nwill be night.\" But a Pacific Islander says, \"I am there, it is night.\"\nThe one says, \"Go on, it will soon be dark.\" The other, \"Go on, it has\nbecome already night.\" Anyone sees that the one possesses the power of\nrealising the future as present, or past; the other now whatever it may\nhave been once, does not exercise such power. A companion calls me at\n5.30 A.M., with the words, \"Eke! me gong veto,\" (Hullo! it is night\nalready). He means, \"Why, we ought to be off, we shall never reach\nthe end of our journey before dark.\" But how neatly and prettily he\nexpresses his thought! I assure you, civilised languages, for\ncommon conversational purposes needed by travellers, &c., are clumsy\ncontrivances! Of course you know all this a hundred times better than I\ndo. I only illustrate my idea of a grammar as a means of teaching others\nthe form of the mould in which the Melanesian's mind is cast. I think\nI ought to go farther, and seek for certain categories, under which\nthought may be classified (so to say), and beginning with the very\nsimplest work on to the more complicated powers.\n\n'But I haven't the head to do this; and suppose that I did make such a\nframework, how am I to fill it in so as to be intelligible to outsiders?\nFor practical purposes, I give numerals, personal, possessive, and\ndemonstrative pronouns, the mode of qualifying nouns, e.g., some\nlanguages interpose a monosyllable between the substantive and\nadjective, others do not. The words used (as it is called) as\nprepositions and adverbs, the mode of changing a neuter verb into a\ntransitive or causative verb, usually by a word prefixed, which means do\nor make, e.g., die, do-die, do-to-the-death, him.\n\n'Then I teach orally how the intonation, accentuation, pause in\nthe utterance, gesticulation, supply the place of stops, marks of\ninterrogation, &c.\n\n'Then giving certain nouns, verbs, &c., make my English pupils construct\nsentences; then give them a vocabulary and genuine native stories, not\ntranslations at all, least of all of religious books, which contain very\nfew native ideas, but stories of sharks, cocoa-nuts, canoes, fights,\n&c. This is the apparatus. This gives but little idea of a Melanesian\ndialect to you. I know it, and am anxious to do more.\n\n'This last season I have had some three or four months, during which I\ndetermined that I must refuse to take so much English work, &c. I sat\nand growled in my den, and of course rather vexed people, and perhaps,\nfor which I should be most heartily grieved, my dear friend and leader,\nthe Bishop of New Zealand. But I stuck to my work. I wrote about a dozen\npapers of phrases in as many dialects, to show the mode of expressing in\nthose dialects what we express by adverbs and prepositions, &c. This is,\nof course, the difficult part of a language for a stranger to find\nout. I also printed three, and have three more nearly finished in MS.,\nvocabularies of about 600 words with a true native sehdia on each word.\nThe mere writing (for much was written twice over) took a long time. And\nthere is this gained by these vocabularies for practical purposes: these\nare (with more exceptions, it is true, than I intended) the words which\ncrop up most readily in a Melanesian mind. Much time I have wasted, and\nwould fain save others from wasting, in trying to form a Melanesian\nmind into a given direction into which it ought, as I supposed, to have\ntravelled, but which nevertheless it refused to follow. Just ten years'\nexperience has, of course, taught me a good deal of the minds of these\nraces; and when I catch a new fellow, as wild as a hawk, and set to work\nat a new language, it is a great gain to have even partially worked out\nthe problem, \"What words shall I try to get from this fellow?\" Now I go\nstraight to my mark, or rather I am enabling, I hope, my young friends\nwith me to do so, for of course, I have learnt to do so myself, more\nor less, for some time past. Many words may surprise you, and many\nalterations I should make in any revision. I know a vast number of words\nnot used in these vocabularies, in some languages I daresay five times\nthe number, but I had a special reason for writing only these. The rest\nmust come, if I live, by-and-by.\n\n'Of course these languages are very poor in respect of words belonging\nto civilised and literary and religious life, but exceedingly rich in\nall that pertains to the needs and habits of men circumstanced as\nthey are. I draw naturally this inference, \"Don't be in any hurry to\ntranslate, and don't attempt to use words as (assumed) equivalents of\nabstract ideas. Don't devise modes of expression unknown to the language\nas at present in use. They can't understand, and therefore don't use\nwords to express definitions.\"\n\nBut, as everywhere, our Lord gives us the model. A certain lawyer asked\nHim for a definition of his neighbour, but He gave no definition, only\nHe spoke a simple and touching parable. So teach, not a technical word,\nbut an actual thing.\n\n'Why do I write all this to you? It is wasting your time. But I prose\non.--(A sheet follows on the structure of the languages.)\n\n'Well, I have inflicted a volume on you. We are almost becalmed after a\nweary fortnight of heavy weather, in which we have been knocked about\nin every direction in our tight little 90-ton schooner. And my head is\nhardly steady yet, so excuse a long letter, or rather long chatty set of\ndesultory remarks, from\n\n'Your old affectionate Friend,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nA little scene from Mr. Atkin's journal shows how he had learnt to talk\nto natives. He went ashore with the Bishop and some others at Sesaki for\nyams:--\n\n'It has been by far the pleasantest day of the kind that I have seen\nhere. The people are beginning to understand that they can do no better\nthan trade fairly with us, and to-day they on the whole behaved very\nwell. A very big fellow had been ringing all the changes between\ncommanding and entreating me to give him a hatchet (I was holding the\ntrade bag). When he found it was no use, he said, \"I was a bad man, and\nnever gave anything.\" I said \"Yes, I was.\" He said the Bishops were very\ngood men, they gave liberally. He had better go and ask the Bishop for\nsomething, for he was a good man, though I was not.'\n\nAfter landing Mr. Palmer at Mota, the vessel went onto the Solomon\nIsles, reaching Bauro on the 27th:--\n\n'About 8.30 in the evening the boat was lowered, and the party pulled\ntowards the village, which was the home of Taroniara, in a fine clear\nmoonlit night, by the fires which people had lit for the people on\nshore, and directed by Taroniara himself to the opening in the reef.\nThey landed in the midst of a group of dark figures, some standing in a\nbrook, some by the side under a large spreading tree, round a fire fed\nby dry cocoa-nut leaves; and in the background were tall cocoa-nuts with\ntheir gracefully drooping plumes, and the moon behind shining through\nthem made the shade seem darker and deeper as the flashing crests of the\nsurf, breaking on the reef, made the heaving sea beyond look murkier. It\nwas a sight worth going a long way to see,' so says Mr. Atkin's journal.\n\nThe next sight was, however, still more curious. The Bishop relented so\nfar towards 'the Net,' as to write an account of it on purpose for it.\nYsabel Island is, like almost all the rest, divided among many small\ncommunities of warlike habits. And some years previously the people of\nMahaga, the place with which he was best acquainted, had laid an ambush\nfor those of Hogirano, killed a good many, and, cutting off their\nheads, had placed them in a row upon stones, and danced round them in a\nvictorious suit of white-coral lime. However, a more powerful tribe, not\nlong after, came down upon Mahaga and fearfully avenged the massacre of\nHogirano. All were slain who could not escape into the bush; and when\nthe few survivors, after days and nights of hunger, ventured back, they\nfound the dwellings burnt, the fruit trees cut down, the yam and taro\ngrounds devastated, and more than a hundred headless bodies of their\nkindred lying scattered about.\n\nThis outrage had led to the erection of places of refuge in the tops of\ntrees; and Bishop Patteson, who had three Mahagan scholars, went ashore,\nwith the hope of passing the night in one of these wonderful places,\nwhere the people always slept, though by day they lived in the ordinary\nopen bamboo huts.\n\nAfter landing in a mangrove swamp, and wading through deep mud, he found\nthat the Mahaga people had removed from their old site, and had built a\nstrong fortification near the sea; and close above, so as to be reached\nby ladders resting on the wall, were six large tree-houses.\n\nIt had been raining heavily for a day or two, and the paths were so deep\nin mud that the bed of a water-course was found preferable to them. The\nbush had been cleared for some distance before the steep rocky mound\nwhere the village stood, surrounded by a high wall of stones, in which\none narrow entrance was left, approached by a fallen trunk of a tree\nlying over a hollow. The huts were made of bamboo canes, and the floors,\nraised above the ground, were nearly covered with mats and a kind of\nbasket work.\n\nThe tree-houses, six in number, were upon the tops of trees of great\nheight, 50 feet round at the base, and all branches cleared off till\nnear the summit, where two or three grew out at right angles, something\nafter the manner of an Italian stone pine:--\n\n'From the top of the wall the ladder that led to one of these houses was\n60 feet long, but it was not quite upright, and the tree was growing at\nsome little distance from the bottom of the rock, and the distance by\na plumb line from the floor of the verandah to the ground on the lower\nside of the tree was 94 feet. The floor of the house, which is made\nfirst, was 23 feet long and about 11 broad; a narrow verandah is left at\neach end, and the inside length of the house is 18 feet, the breadth\n10 feet, the height to the ridge pole 6 feet. The floor was of bamboo\nmatted, the roof and sides of palm-leaf thatch. The ladders were\nremarkable contrivances: a pole in the centre, from 4 to 6 inches in\ndiameter, to which were lashed by vines cross pieces of wood, about\ntwo feet long. To steady these and hold on by were double shrouds of\nsupple-jacks. The rungs of the ladder were at unequal distances, 42 upon\nthe 50 feet ladder.'\n\nThe Bishop and Pasvorang, who had gone ashore together, beheld men,\nwomen, and children running up and down these ladders, and walking about\nthe bare branches, trusting entirely to their feet and not touching with\ntheir hands. The Bishop, in his wet slippery shoes, did not think it\nright to run the risk of an accident: and though Pasvorang, who was as\nmuch at home as a sailor among the ropes of the 'Southern Cross,' made\nthe ascent, he came down saying, 'I was so afraid, my legs shook.\nDon't you go, going aloft is nothing to it;' but the people could not\nunderstand any dread; and when the Bishop said, 'I can't go up there.\nI am neither bird nor bat, and I have no wings if I fall,' they thought\nhim joking. At the same time he saw a woman with a load on her back,\nquietly walking up a ladder to another tree, not indeed so lofty as that\nPasvorang had tried, but as if it were the most natural thing in the\nworld, and without attempting to catch hold with her hands.\n\n'At night,' says the Bishop, 'as I lay ignominiously on the ground in\na hut, I heard the songs of the women aloft as voices from the clouds,\nwhile the loud croaking of the frogs, the shrill noise of countless\ncicadas, the scream of cockatoos and parrots, the cries of birds of many\nkinds, and the not unreasonable fear of scorpions, all combined to keep\nme awake. Solemn thoughts pass through the mind at such times, and from\ntime to time I spoke to the people who were sleeping in the hut with me.\nIt rained heavily in the night, and I was not sorry to find myself at 7\nA.M. on board the schooner.'\n\nThe next day was spent in doing the honours of the ship, a crowd on\nboard all day; and on July 2 the Bishop landed again with Mr. Atkin,\nand mounted up to this wonderful nest, where all these measurements\nwere made. It proved much more agreeable to look at from below than\nto inhabit 'the low steaming bamboo huts--the crowds, the dirt, the\nsqualling of babies--you can't sit or stand, or touch anything that is\nnot grimy and sooty and muddy. It is silly to let these things really\naffect one, only that it now seems rather to knock me up. After such\na day and night I am very tired, come back to our little ship as to a\npalace, wash, and sit down on a clean, if not a soft stool, and am free\nfor a little while from continual noise and the necessity of making talk\nin an imperfectly known language.\n\n'It is really curious to see how in some way our civilised mode of life\nunfits one for living among these races. It is not to be denied that the\nwant of such occupations as we are employed in is a large cause of their\ntroubles. What are they to do during the long hours of night, and on\nwet, pouring days? They can't read, they can't see in their huts to do\nany work, making baskets, &c. They must lie about, talking scandal and\nacquiring listless indolent habits. Then comes a wild reaction. The\nyounger people like excitement as much as our young men like hunting,\nfishing, shooting, &c. How can they get this? Why, they must quarrel and\nfight, and so they pass their time. It does seem almost impossible to do\nmuch for people so circumstanced; yet it was much the same in Mota and\nelsewhere, where things are altered for the better.'\n\nIt was bad and trying weather, and it was well to have only two old\nBanks Islanders on board, besides three Ysabel lads. The Bishop\nhad plenty of time for writing; and for the first time in his life\n'pronounced himself forward with that Report which was always on his\nmind.' He goes on: 'I read a good deal, but I don't say that my mind is\nvery active all the time, and I have some schooling. Yet it is not easy\nto do very much mental work. I think that I feel the heat more than I\nused to do, but that may be only my fancy.\n\n'You meantime are, I hope, enjoying fine summer weather. Certainly it\nmust be a charming place that you have, close to that grand Church\nand grand scenery. I think my idea of a cosy home is rather that of\na cottage in the Isle of Wight, or, better still, a house near such a\nCathedral as Wells, in one of the cottages close to the clear streams\nthat wind through and about the Cathedral precincts. But I can form\nno real notions about such things. Only I am pretty sure that there\nis little happiness without real hard work. I do long sometimes for\na glorious Cathedral service, for the old chants, anthems, not for\n\"functions\" and \"processions,\" &c. I have read Freeman's pamphlet on\n\"Ritual\" with interest; he really knows what he writes about, and has\none great object and a worthy one, the restoration of the universal\npractice of weekly communion as the special Sunday service. That all\nour preachifying is a wide departure from the very idea of worship\nis self-evident, when it is made more than a necessary part of the\nreligious observance of the Lord's Day, and catechising is worth far\nmore than preaching (in the technical sense of the word).'\n\nA first visit was paid to Savo; where numerous canoes came out to meet\nthem, one a kind of state galley, with the stem and stern twelve feet\nhigh, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and ornamented with white shells\n(most likely the ovum or poached egg), and containing the chief men of\nthe island. The people spoke the Ysabel language, and the place seemed\npromising.\n\nSome little time was spent in beating up to Bauro; where the Bishop\nagain landed at Taroniara's village, and slept in his hut, which was as\ndisagreeable as all such places were:--'Such a night always disturbs\nme for a time, throws everything out of regular working order; but it\nalways pays, the people like it, and it shows a confidence in them which\nhelps us on.\n\n'I was disappointed though in the morning, when Taroniara declined to\ncome with me to this place.\n\n'My people say, \"Why do you go away?\"--the old stupid way of getting out\nof an engagement.' However, two others came to 'this place,' which was a\nhut in the village of Wango, which the Bishop had hired for ten days for\nthe rent of a hatchet.\n\n'A very sufficient rent too, you would say, if you could see the place.\nI can only stand upright under the ridge pole, the whole of the oblong\nis made of bamboo, with a good roof that kept out a heavy shower last\nnight. There is a fresh stream of water within fifteen yards, where I\nbathed at 9 P.M. yesterday; and as I managed to get rid of strangers\nby 8.30, it was not so difficult to manage a shift into a clean and dry\nsleeping shirt, and then, lying down on Aunt William's cork-bed (my old\ntravelling companion), I slept very fairly.\n\n'People about the hut at earliest dawn; and the day seems long, the\nsustained effort of talking, the heat, the crowd, and the many little\nthings that should not but do operate as an annoyance, all tire one\nvery much. But I hope that by degrees I may get opportunities of talking\nabout the matter that I come to talk about. Just now the trading with\nthe vessel, which is detained here by the weather, and surprise at my\nhalf-dozen books, &c., prevent any attention being paid to anything\nelse.\n\n'7 P.M.--The vessel went off at 10.30 A.M. I felt for a little while\nrather forlorn, and a little sinking at the heart. You see I confess it\nall, how silly! Can't I after so many years bear to be left in one sense\nalone? I read a little of you know what Book, and then found the feeling\npass entirely away.\n\n'But, more than that, the extreme friendliness of the people, the real\nkindness was pleasant to me. One man brought his child, \"The child of us\ntwo, Bishop.\" Another man, \"These cocoa-nut trees are the property of us\ntwo, remember.\" A third, \"When you want yams, don't you buy them, tell\nme.\"\n\n'But far better still. Many times already to-day have I spoken to the\npeople; they have so far listened that they say, \"Take this boy, and\nthis boy, and this boy. We see now why you don't want big men, we see\nnow that you can't stop here long, what for you wish for lads whom you\nmay teach, we see that you want them for a long time. Keep these lads\ntwo years.\"\n\n'\"Yes, two or three or four. By-and-by you will understand more and more\nmy reason.\"\n\n'Then came the talks that you too may experience when dealing with some\nneglected child in London, or it may be in the country; but which, under\nthe cocoa-nut tree, with dark naked men, have a special impressiveness.\nIt was the old lesson, of the Eternal and Universal Father, who has not\nleft Himself without witness in that He gives us all rain from Heaven,\n&c., and of our ingratitude, and His love; of His coming down to point\nout the way of life, and of His Death and Rising again; of another\nworld, Resurrection, and Judgment. All interrupted, now and then, by\nexclamations of surprise, laughter, or by some one beginning to talk\nabout something that jarred sadly on one's ear, and yet was but natural.\nBut I do hope that a week may pass not unprofitably. In one sense, I\nshall no doubt be glad when it is over; but I think that it may, by\nGod's great goodness, be a preparation for something more to come.\n\n'Last night, my little hired hut being crowded as usual, they all cried\nout at once \"Numu\" (earthquake). I should not the least have known that\nanything had occurred. I said I thought it was a pig pushing against the\nbamboo wall of the hut. They say that they have no serious shocks, but\nvery many slight ones. Crocodiles they have too, but, they say, none in\nthis stream.\n\n'July 22nd.--It is 9 P.M., the pleasantest time, in one sense, of my\ntwenty-four hours, for there are only two people with me in the hut.\n\n'My arrangements are somewhat simple; but I am very comfortable.\nDelicious bathes I have in the stream: yams and fish are no bad fare;\nand I have some biscuit and essence of coffee, and a few books, and am\nperfectly well. The mode of life has become almost natural to me. I\nam on capital terms with the people, and even the babies are no longer\nafraid of me. Old and young, men and women, boys and girls about me of\ncourse all day; and small presents of yams, fish, bananas, almonds, show\nthe friendliness of the people when properly treated. But the bunches of\nskulls remain slung up in the large canoe houses, and they can be wild\nenough when they are excited.'\n\n[The home diary continues, on the 26th]:--'I am expecting the schooner,\nand shall be glad to get off if it arrives to-day, for it is very fine.\nI don't think I could do any good by staying a few days more, so I might\nas well be on my way to Santa Cruz. If I were here for good, of course\nI should be busy about many things that it would be useless to attempt\nnow, e.g., what good would it be to induce half-a-dozen boys to learn\n\"a,\" when I should be gone before they could learn \"b\"? So I content\nmyself with making friends with the people, observing their ways, and\ntalking to them as I can. It is hot, now at 8.30 A.M. What will it be at\n2 P.M.? But I may perhaps be able to say something to cheer me up.\nOne of the trials of this kind of thing is that one seems to be doing\nnothing. Simply I am here! Hardly in one hour out of the twenty-four am\nI sure to be speaking of religion. Yet the being here is something,\nthe gaining the confidence and goodwill of the people. Then comes the\nthought, who is to carry this on? And yet I dare not ask men to come,\nfor I am certain they would after all my pains find something different\nfrom what they expect.\n\nMy death would very likely bring out some better men for the work, with\nenergy and constructive power and executive genius, all of which, guided\nby Divine Wisdom, seem to be so much wanted! But just now, I don't see\nwhat would become of a large part of the work if I died. I am leaving\nbooks somewhat more in order; but it is one thing to have a book to help\none in acquiring a language, quite another to speak it freely, and to be\npersonally known to the people who speak it.\n\n'11th Sunday after Trinity.--Off Anudha Island, 4 P.M. Thermometer 88\u00b0\nin the empty cabin, everyone being on deck. Well, dear old Joan and\nFan, refreshed by--what do you think? O feast of Guildhall and Bristol\nmayors! Who would dream of turtle soup on board the \"Southern Cross\" in\nthese unknown seas? Tell it not to Missionary Societies! Let no platform\norator divulge the great secret of the luxurious self-indulgent life of\nthe Missionary Bishop! What nuts for the \"Pall Mall Gazette\"! How would\nall subscriptions cease, and denunciations be launched upon my devoted\nhead, because good Mr. Tilly bought, at San Cristoval, for the price of\none tenpenny hatchet, a little turtle, a veritable turtle, with green\nfat and all the rest of it, upon which we have made to-day a most regal\nfeast indeed.\n\n'But seriously. There has been much to make me hopeful, and something to\ndisappoint me, since I last wrote.'\n\nThe two days at Santa Cruz were hopeful--[Mr. Atkin says that the\nnatives came on board with readiness and stole with equal readiness; but\nthis was all in a friendly way]--and a small island, named Piteni, was\nvisited, and judged likely to prove a means of reaching the larger isle.\n\nThe disappointment is not here mentioned, unless it was the missing some\nof the Ysabel scholars, and bringing away only three; but this mattered\nthe less, as the Banks Island party, which, as forming a nucleus, was\nfar more important, was now considerable. Sixty-two scholars were the\npresent freight, including nine little girls, between eight and twelve,\nmostly betrothed to old pupils.\n\nAt Malanta, a new village called Saa was visited. The 'harbour' was a\nwall of coral, with the surf breaking upon it, but a large canoe showed\nthe only accessible place, and this was exposed to the whole swell of\nthe Pacific.\n\n'The natives,' writes Mr. Atkin, 'held the boat in water up to their\nknees, but the seas that broke thirty yards outside washed over their\nshoulders and sometimes their heads. We might have taken away half the\npeople of the village, and had no trouble in getting two nice-looking\nlittle boys. About 320 miles from Norfolk Island, one of these little\nboys, Wate, playing, fell overboard: we were going ten knots at the\ntime, right before the wind; it was a quarter of an hour before we\npicked him up, as it took five minutes to stop the vessel and ten to get\nto him. Wate seemed all the better for his ducking.' This little Wate\nbecame Mr. Atkin's especial child, his godson and devoted follower.\n\nOn October 2, Norfolk Island was reached, and there, a wooden house\nhaving been conveyed thither by H.M.S. 'Falcon,' Mr. Palmer and fifteen\nscholars were placed to spend the winter. The Pitcairners welcomed\nthe Mission, but were displeased at the Government assuming a right to\ndispose of the land which they had fancied entirely their own.\n\nOne of the letters written separate from the journal during this voyage\ngives a commission for photographs from the best devotional prints, for\nthe benefit chiefly of his young colonial staff:--'I have not the\nheart to send for my Lionardo da Vinci,' (he says), that much valued\nengraving, purchased at Florence, and he wishes for no modern ones, save\nAry Scheffer's 'Christis Consolator,' mentioning a few of his special\nfavourites to be procured if possible. For the Melanesians, pictures of\nships, fishes, and if possible tropical vegetation, was all the art yet\nneeded, and beads, red and blue, but dull ones; none not exactly like\nthe samples would be of any use. 'It is no good sending out any \"fancy\"\narticles such as you would give English children. \"Toys for savages\" are\nall the fancies of those who manufacture such toys for sale. Of course,\nany manufacturer who wishes to give presents of knives, tools, hatchets,\n&c., would do a great benefit, but then the knives must be really strong\nand sharp.'\n\nI have concluded the letters of the island voyage, before giving\nthose written on the homeward transit from Norfolk Island, whither the\n'Falcon' had conveyed the letters telling of the departure of both Mr.\nand Mrs. Keble. The first written under this impulse was of course to\nSir John Coleridge, the oldest friend:--\n\n\n'At Sea, near Norfolk Island: October 3, 1866.\n\n'My dear, dear Uncle,--How can I thank you enough for telling me so much\nof dear saintly Mr. Keble and his wife? He has been, for my dear father\nand mother's sakes, very loving to me, and actually wrote me two short\nletters, one after his seizure, which I treasure. How I had grown\nto reverence and love him more and more you can easily believe; and\nyesterday at Norfolk Island, whither some letters had been sent, I read\nwith a very full heart of the peaceful close of such a holy life. And\nI do love to think too of you and him, if I may speak freely of such as\nyou; and the weight attached to all you say and do (you two I mean) in\nyour several occupations seems at all events one hopeful sign among\nnot a few gloomy ones. I suppose you and Mr. Keble little estimated the\ninfluence which even a casual word or sentence of yours exercises upon\na man of my age, predisposed (it is true) to hearken with attention and\nreverence....\n\n'Is it possible that fifty years hence any similar event, should there\nbe such, which should so \"stir the heart of the country\" (as you say\nabout Mr. Keble's death), might stimulate people to raise large sums\nfor the endowment of a Church about to be, or already separated from the\nState? I can't avoid feeling as if God may be permitting the extension\nof the Colonial Churches, partly and in a secondary sense that so the\nground may be travelled over on a small scale before the Church at home\nmay be thrown in like manner upon its own resources. The alliance is a\nvery precarious one surely, and depends upon the solemn adherence to a\nfiction. It is extraordinary that some Colonial Bishops should seek to\nreproduce the state of things which is of course peculiar to England,\nthe produce of certain historical events, and which can have no\nresemblance whatever to the circumstances of our Colonies.\n\n'The mail closes just after our arrival; and I am very busy at first\ncoming on shore with such a party. Goodbye for the present, my dear dear\nUncle,\n\n'Your loving and grateful Nephew, 'J. C. P.'\n\n\nTo me the condolence was:--\n\n\n'October 6, 1866.\n\n'And so, my dear Cousin, the blow has fallen upon you, and dear Mr. and\nMrs. Keble have passed away to their eternal rest. I found letters at\nNorfolk Island on October 2, not my April letters, which will tell me\nmost about him, but my May budget.\n\n'How very touching the account is which my Uncle John sends me of dear\nMrs. Keble, so thankful that he was taken first, so desirous to go, yet\nso content to stay! And how merciful it has all been. Such a calm holy\nclose to the saintly life. May God bless and support all you who feel\nthe bereavement! Even I feel that I would fain look for one more letter\nfrom him, but we have his \"Christian Year,\" and other books. Is it not\nwonderful that all the wisdom and love and beauty of the \"Christian\nYear,\" to say nothing of the exquisite and matured poetry, should have\nbeen given to him so early in life? Why, as I gather, the book was\nfinished in the year 1825, though not published till 1827. He wrote it\nwhen he was only 33 years old, and for 45 years he lived after he was\ncapable of such a work. Surely such a union of extreme learning, wisdom,\nand scholarship, with humility and purity of heart and life has very\nseldom been found. Everyone wishes to say something to everyone else of\none so dear to all, and no one can say what each and all feel. We ought\nindeed to be thankful, who not only have in common with all men his\nbooks, but the memory of what he was personally to us.\n\n'The change must needs be a great one to you. I do feel much for you\nindeed. But you will bear it bravely; and many duties and the will and\npower to discharge them occupy the mind, and the elasticity comes back\nagain after a time. I know nothing of the Keble family, not even how\nthey were related to him, so that my interest in Hursley is connected\nwith him only. Yet it will always be a hallowed spot in the memory of\nEnglish Churchmen. You will hear the various rumours as to who is to\nwrite his life, &c. Let me know what is worth knowing about it.\n\n'Kohimarama. Anchored on October 8, after an absence of exactly six\nweeks; all well on board and ashore.\n\n'Thanks be to God for so many mercies. The mail is gone, and alas! all\nmy letters and newspapers were sent off a few days since in the \"Brisk\"\nto Norfolk Island. We passed each other. They did not expect me back so\nsoon, so I have no late news, and have no time to read newspapers.\n\n'May God bless you, my dear Cousin,\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin, 'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nIn spite of this deep veneration for Mr. Keble and for his teachings,\nBishop Patteson did not embrace to the full the doctrine which had been\nmaintained in 'Eucharistic Adoration,' and which he rightly perceived to\nlie at the root of the whole Ritualistic question. His conclusions had\nbeen formed upon the teachings of the elder Anglican divines, and his\npredilections for the externals of worship upon the most reverent and\nbeautiful forms to which he had been accustomed before he left home.\n\nAfter an All Saints' Communion, the following letter was written:--\n\n\n'All Saints' Day, 1866.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--You know why I write to you on this day. The Communion\nof Saints becomes ever a more and more real thing to us as holy and\nsaintly servants of God pass beyond the veil, as also we learn to know\nand love more and more our dear fellow-labourers and fellow-pilgrims\nstill among us in the flesh.\n\n'Such a day as this brings, thanks be to God, many calm, peaceful\nmemories with it. Of how many we may both think humbly and thankfully\nwhose trials and sorrows are over for ever, whose earthly work is done,\nwho dwell now in Paradise and see His Face, and calmly wait for the\ngreat consummation. To you the sense of personal loss must be now--it\nwill always be--mixed up with the true spirit of thankfulness and\njoy; but remember that as they greatly helped you, so you in no slight\nmeasure have received from God power to help others, a trust which I\nverily believe you are faithfully discharging, and that the brightness\nof the Christian life must be not lost sight of in our dealings\nwith others, would we really seek to set forth the attractiveness of\nreligion.\n\n'I don't mean that I miss this element in any of your writings; rather\nI am thankful to you because you teach so well how happiness and joy\nare the portion of the Christian in the midst of so much that the world\ncounts sorrow and loss. But I think that depression of mind rapidly\ncommunicates itself, and you must be aware that you are through your\nbooks stamping your mind on many people.\n\n'Do you mind my saying all this to you? only I would fain say anything\nthat at such a time may, if only for a minute, help to keep the bright\nside before you. The spirit of patience did seem so to rest upon him\nand his dear saintly wife. The motto of the Christian Year seemed to\nbe inwoven into his life and character. I suppose he so well knew the\ninsignificance of what to us mortals in our own generation seems so\ngreat, that he had learned to view eternal truths in the light of Him\nwho is eternal. He fought manfully for the true eternal issues, and\neverything else fell into its subordinate place. Is not one continually\nstruck with his keen sense of the proportion of things? He wastes no\ntime nor strength in the accidents of religion; much that he liked and\nvalued he never taught as essential, or even mentioned, lest it might\ninterfere with essentials.\n\n'Oh! that his calm wise judgment, his spiritual discernment, may be\npoured out on many earnest men who I can't help thinking lack that\ninstinct which divinely guided the early Church in the \"selection of\nfundamentals.\" We must all grieve to see earnest, zealous men almost\ninjuring the good cause, and placing its best and wisest champions in an\nunnecessarily difficult position, because they do not see what I suppose\nMr. Keble did see so very clearly.\n\n'I know that these questions present themselves somewhat differently\nto those situated severally as you and we are. But it is, I suppose, by\nfreely interchanging amongst ourselves thoughts that the general balance\nis best preserved. Pray, when you have time, write freely to me on such\nmatters if you think it may be of use to do so. The Church everywhere\nought to guard, and teach, and practise what is essential. In\nnon-essentials I suppose the rule is clear. I will eat no meat, &c.\n\n'And now good-bye, my dear Cousin; and may God ever bless and comfort\nyou.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nSir William and Lady Martin had just paid their last visit to\nKohimarama, and here is the final record by Lady Martin's hand of the\npleasant days there spent:--\n\n'One more visit we paid to our dear friend in November 1866, a few\nmonths before he left Kohimarama for Norfolk Island. He invited my dear\nhusband specially for the purpose of working together at Hebrew,\nwith the aid of the lights they thought our languages throw on its\ngrammatical structure.\n\n'The Bishop was very happy and bright. He was in his new house, a great\nimprovement upon the stuffy quarters in the quad. His sitting-room\nwas large and lofty, and had French windows which opened on a little\nverandah facing the sea.\n\n'The Mission party were most co-operative, and would not let the Bishop\ncome into school during the three weeks of our stay, so he had a working\nholiday which he thoroughly enjoyed. The weather was lovely, the boys\nwere all well, and there was no drawback to the happiness of that time.\nAt seven the chapel bell rang and we walked across with him to the\npretty little chapel. The prayers and hymn were in Mota, the latter a\ntranslation by the Bishop of the hymn \"Now that the daylight fills the\nsky.\" The boys all responded heartily and were reverent in demeanour.\nAfter breakfast the two wise men worked steadily till nearly one. We\nwere not allowed to dine in Hall as the weather was very warm, and we\ninveigled the Bishop to stay out and be our host.\n\n'A quaint little procession of demure-looking little maidens brought our\ndinner over. They were grave and full of responsibility till some word\nfrom 'Bisop' would light up their faces with shy smiles.\n\n'What pleasant walks we had together before evening chapel under the\nwooded cliffs or through the green fields. Mr. Pritt had by this time\nbrought the Mission farm into excellent working order by the aid of the\nelder lads alone. Abundance of good milk and butter (the latter getting\nready sale in town) and of vegetables. His gifts too in school-keeping\nwere invaluable.\n\n'I wish I could recall some of the conversations with our dear friend. A\nfavourite topic was concerning the best modes of bringing the doctrines\nof the Christian religion clearly and fully within the comprehension\nof the converts. Some of their papers written after being taught by him\nshowed that they did apprehend them in a thoughtful intelligent way.\n\n'At half-past six we had a short service, again in Mota, in chapel, and\nthen we rarely saw our dear friend till nine. He would not neglect any\nof his night classes. At half-past nine the English workers gathered\ntogether in the Bishop's room for prayers and for a little friendly\nchat. Curiously enough, the conversation I most distinctly remember was\none with him as we rode up one Saturday from Kohimarama to St. John's\nCollege. I got him to describe the game of tennis, and he warmed up and\ntold me of games he had played at.\n\n'How that cheery talk came to mind as I drove down the same road last\nyear just after fine weather had come! It was the same season, and the\nhedges on each side of the narrow lane were fragrant as then with may\nand sweet briar.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI. ST. BARNABAS COLLEGE, NORFOLK ISLAND. 1867--1869.\n\n\n\nA new phase of Coleridge Patteson's life was beginning with the year\n1867, when he was in full preparation for the last of his many changes\nof home, namely, that to Norfolk Island, isolating him finally from\nthose who had become almost as near kindred to him, and devoting him\neven more exclusively to his one great work. No doubt the separation\nfrom ordinary society was a relief, and the freedom from calls to\nirregular clerical duty at Auckland was an immense gain; but the lack\nof the close intercourse with the inner circle of his friends was often\nfelt, and was enhanced by the lack of postal communication with Norfolk\nIsland, so that, instead of security of home tidings by every mail,\nletters and parcels could only be transmitted by chance vessels touching\nat that inaccessible island, where there was no harbour for even the\n'Southern Cross' to lie.\n\nBut the welfare of the Mission, and the possible benefit to the\nPitcairners, outweighed everything. It is with some difficulty that the\nsubject of this latter people is approached. They have long been the\nromance of all interested in Missionary effort, and precious has been\nthe belief that so innocent and pious a community existed on the face\nof the earth. And it is quite true that when they are viewed as the\noffspring of English mutineers and heathen Tahitians, trained by a\nrepentant old sailor, they are wonderful in many respects; and\ntheir attractive manners and manifest piety are sure to strike their\noccasional visitors, who have seldom stayed long enough to penetrate\nbelow the surface.\n\nBut it has been their great disadvantage never to have had a much higher\nstandard of religion, morals, civilisation, or industry set before them,\nthan they had been able to evolve for themselves; and it is a law of\nnature that what is not progressive must be retrograde. The gentle\nTahitian nature has entirely mastered the English turbulence, so that\nthere is genuine absence of violence, there is no dishonesty; and\ndrunkenness was then impossible; there is also a general habit of\nreligious observance, but not including self-restraint as a duty, while\nthe reaction of all the enthusiastic admiration expressed for this\ninteresting people has gendered a self-complacency that makes them the\nharder to deal with. Parental authority seems to be entirely wanting\namong them, the young people grow up unrestrained; and the standard of\nmorality and purity seems to be pretty much what it is in a neglected\nEnglish parish, but, as before said, without the drunkenness and\nlawlessness, and with a universal custom of church-going, and a great\ndesire not to expose their fault to the eyes of strangers. The fertile\nsoil, to people of so few wants, and with no trade, prevents the\nnecessity of exertion, and the dolce far niente prevails universally.\nThe Government buildings have fallen into entire ruin, and the breed\nof cattle has been allowed to become worthless for want of care. The\ndwellings are uncleanly, and the people so undisciplined that only their\nnative gentleness would make their present self-government possible; and\nit is a great problem how to deal with them.\n\nThe English party who were to take up their abode on Norfolk Island\nconsisted of the Bishop, the Rev. Mr. Palmer, who was there already,\nMr. Atkin, and Mr. Brooke. The Rev. R. Codrington was on his way from\nEngland with Mr. Bice, a young student from St. Augustine's, Canterbury;\nbut Mr. and Mrs. Pritt had received an appointment at the Waikato,\nand left the Mission. The next letter to myself tells something of the\nplans:--\n\n\n'January 29, 1867.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--I enclose a note to Miss Mackenzie, thanking her for\nher book about Mrs. Robertson. It does one good to read about such a\ncouple. I almost feel as if I should like to write a line to the good\nman. There was the real genuine love for the people, the secret of\ncourse of all missionary success, the consideration for them, the power\nof sympathy, of seeing with the eyes of others, and putting oneself\ninto their position. Many a time have I thought: \"Yes, that's all right,\nthat's the true spirit, that's the real thing.\"\n\n'Oh that men could be trained to act in that way. It seems as if mere\ncommon sense would enable societies and men to see that it must be so.\nAnd yet how sadly we mismanage men, and misuse opportunities.\n\n'Men should be made to understand that they cannot receive training for\nthis special Mission work except on the spot; at the institution the\naim should be to give them a thorough grounding in Greek and Latin, the\nelements of Divinity, leaving out all talk about experiences, and all\nthat can minister to spiritual pride, and delude men into the idea that\nthe desire (as they suppose) to be missionaries implies that they are\none whit better than the baker and shoemaker next door.\n\n'The German system is very different. The Moravians don't handle their\nyoung candidates after this fashion.\n\n'Now Mr. Robertson and his good wife refresh one by the reality and\nsimplicity of their life, the simple-mindedness, the absence of all cant\nand formalism. I mean the formal observance of a certain set of views\nabout the Sabbath, about going to parties, about reading books, &c., the\nformal utterance of an accepted phraseology.\n\n'Would that there were hundreds such! Would that his and her example\nmight stir the hearts of many young people, women as well as men! Well,\nI like all that helps me to know him and her in the book, and am much\nobliged to Miss Mackenzie for it.\n\n'We have had a trying month, unusually damp close weather, and influenza\nhas been prevalent. Many boys had it, one little fellow died. He was\nvery delirious at last, and as he lay day and night on my bed we had\noften to hold him. But one night he was calm and sensible, and with\nHenry Tagalana's help I obtained from him such a simple answer or two to\nour questions that I felt justified in baptizing him. He was about ten\nyears old, I suppose one of our youngest.\n\n'Last Saturday, at 12.45 A.M., he passed away into what light, and\npeace, and knowledge, and calm rest in his Saviour's bosom! we humbly\ntrust. God be praised for all His mercies! It was touching, indeed, to\nhear Henry speaking to his little friend. He spoke so as to make me feel\nvery hopeful about his work as a teacher being blessed, his whole heart\non his lips and in his voice and manner and expression of face.\n\n'But, my dear Cousin, often I think that I need more than ever your\nprayers that I may have the blessing for which we pray in our\nCollect for the First Sunday after Epiphany: grace to use the present\nopportunities aright. My time may be short; we are very few in number:\nnow the young English and Melanesian teachers ought to be completely\ntrained, that so, by God's blessing, the work may not come to nought.\nCodrington's coming ought to be a great gain in this way. A right-minded\nman of age and experience may well be regarded as invaluable indeed.\nI so often feel that I am distracted by multitudinous occupations, and\ncan't think and act out my method of dealing with the elder ones, so\nas to use them aright. So many things distract--social, domestic,\nindustrial matters and general superintendence, and my time is of course\nalways given to anyone who wants it.\n\n'The change to Norfolk Island, too, brings many anxious thoughts and\ncares, and the state of the people there will be an additional cause of\nanxiety. I think that we shall move en masse in April or May, making two\nor three trips in the schooner. Palmer has sixteen now with him there. I\nshall perhaps leave ten more for the winter school and then go on to\nthe islands, and return (D.V.) in October, not to New Zealand, but to\nNorfolk Island; though, as it is the year of the meeting of the General\nSynod, i.e., February 1868, I shall have to be in New Zealand during\nthat summer. You shall have full information of all my and our\nmovements, as soon as I know myself precisely the plan.\n\n'And now good-bye, my dear Cousin; and may God ever bless and keep you.\nI think much of you, and of how you must miss dear Mr. Keble.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\n'Sunday, February 10, 1867.\n\n'My dear old Fan,--No time to write at length. We are pretty well, but\ncoughs and colds abound, and I am a little anxious about one nice lad,\nLelenga, but he is not very seriously ill.\n\n'I have of course occasional difficulties, as who has not?\nIrregularities, not (D. Gr.) of very serious nature, yet calling for\nreproof; a certain proportion of the boys, and a large proportion of the\ngirls careless, and of course, like boys and girls such as you know of\nin Devonshire, not free from mischief.\n\n'Indeed, it is a matter for great thankfulness that, as far as we know,\nno immorality has taken place with fifteen young girls in the school.\nWe take of course all precautions, rooms are carefully locked at\nnight. Still really evil-minded young persons could doubtless get\ninto mischief, if they were determined to do so. Only to-day I spoke\nseverely, not on this point, but on account of some proof of want of\nreal modesty and purity of feeling. But how can I be surprised at that?\n\n'All schoolmaster's work is anxious work. It is even more so than the\nordinary clergyman's work, because you are parent and schoolmaster at\nonce.\n\n'You may suppose that as time approaches for Codrington and Bice to\narrive, and for our move to Norfolk Island, I am somewhat anxious, and\nhave very much to do. Indeed, the Norfolk Island people do sadly want\nhelp.\n\n'Your affectionate Brother.\n\n'J. C. P.\n\n'P. S.--You may tell your boys at night school, if you think it well,\nthat no Melanesian I ever had here would be so ungentlemanly as to throw\nstones or make a row when a lady was present.'\n\n\n'St. Matthias Day, 1867.\n\n'My dearest Joan and Fan,--The beginning of the seventh year of my\nBishop's life! How quickly the time has gone, and a good deal seems to\nhave taken place, and yet (though some experience has been gained) but\nlittle sense have I of real improvement in my own self, of \"pressing\nonwards,\" and daily struggles against faults. But for some persons it is\ndangerous to talk of such things, and I am such a person. It would tend\nto make me unreal, and my words would be unreal, and soon my thoughts\nand life would become unreal too. I am conscious of very, very much that\nis very wrong, and would astonish many of even those who know me best,\nbut I must use this consciousness, and not talk about it any more.\n\n'I am in harness again for English work. How can I refuse? I am writing\nnow between two English services.\n\n'Indeed, no adequate provision is made here for married clergymen with\nfamilies; \u00a3300 a year is starvation at present prices. Men can't live\non it; and who can work vigorously with the thought ever present to him,\n\"When I die, what of my wife and family?\" What is to be done?\n\n'I solve the difficulty in Melanesian work by saying, \"Use Melanesians.\"\nI tell people plainly, \"I don't want white men.\"\n\n'I sum it all up thus: They cost about ten times as much as the\nMelanesian (literally), and but a very small proportion do the work as\nwell.\n\n'I was amused at some things in your December letters. How things do\nunintentionally get exaggerated! I went up into the tree-house by a very\ngood ladder of bamboos and supple-jacks, quite as easily as one goes\nup the rigging of a ship, and my ten days at Bauro were spent among\na people whose language I know, and where my life was as safe and\neverybody was as disposed to be friendly as if I had been in your house\nat Weston. But, of course, it is all \"missionary hardships and trials.\"\nI don't mean that you talk in this way.\n\n'Our first instalment of scholars with Messrs. Atkin and Brooke will go\noff (D.V.) about March 21. Then my house is taken down; the boys who\nnow live in it having been sent off: and on the schooner's return about\nApril 15, another set of things, books, houses, &c. Probably a third\ntrip will be necessary, and then about May 5 or 6 I hope to go. It will\nbe somewhat trying at the end. But I bargain for all this, which of\ncourse constitutes my hardest and most trying business. The special\nMission work, as most people would regard it, is as nothing in\ncomparison. Good-bye, and God bless you.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nOn March 5 Mr. Codrington safely arrived, bringing with him Mr. Bice.\nThe boon to the Bishop was immense, both in relief from care and in the\ncompanionship, for which he had henceforth to depend entirely on his own\nstaff. The machinery of the routine had been so well set in order by Mr.\nPritt that it could be continued without him; and though there was no\nEnglish woman to superintend the girls, it was hoped that Sarah Sarawia\nhad been prepared by Mrs. Pritt to be an efficient matron.\n\n\n'Kohimarama: March 23, 1867.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--Our last New Zealand season, for it may be our last,\ndraws near its close. On Monday, only two days hence, the \"Southern\nCross\" sails (weather permitting) with our first instalment. Mr. Palmer\nhas got his house up, and they must stow themselves away in it, three\nwhites and forty-five blacks, the best way they can. The vessel takes\nbesides 14,000 feet of timber, 6,000 shingles for roofing, and boxes of\nbooks, &c., &c., without end.\n\n'I hope she may be here again to take me and the remaining goods, live\nand inanimate, in about eighteen or twenty days. I can't tell whether I\nam more likely to spend my Easter in New Zealand or Norfolk Island.\n\n'I see that in many ways the place is good for us. The first expense\nis heavy. I have spent about \u00a31,000 already, sinking some of my private\nmoney in the fencing, building, &c., but very soon the cost of all\nthe commissariat, exclusive of the stores for the voyage, and a little\nEnglish food for the whites, will be provided. Palmer has abundance of\nsweet potatoes which have been planted in ground prepared by our lads\nsince last October. The yam crop is coming on well: fish are always\nabundant.\n\n'I think that in twelve months' time we ought to provide ourselves with\nalmost everything in the island. The ship and the clergymen's stipends\nand certain extras will always need subscriptions, but we ought at once\nto feed ourselves, and soon to export wool, potatoes, corn (maize I\nmean), &c.\n\n'I never forget about the idea of a chapel. At present the Norfolk\nIsland Chapel will be only a wing of my house: which will consist of\ntwo rooms for myself, a spare room for a sick lad or two, and a large\ndormitory which, if need be, can be turned into a hospital, and the\nother end a wing in the chapel, 42 x 18 feet, quite large enough for\neighty or more people. The entrance from without, and again a private\ndoor from my sitting room. All is very simple in the plan. It seem\nalmost selfish having it thus as a part of my dwelling house; but it\nwill be such a comfort, so convenient for Confirmation and Baptism and\nHoly Communion classes, and so nice for me. Some ladies in Melbourne\ngive a velvet altar cloth, Lady S. in Sydney gives all the white linen:\nour Communion plate, you know, is very handsome. Some day Joan must send\nme a solid block of Devonshire serpentine for my Font, such a one as\nthere is at Alfington, or Butterfield might now devise even a better.\n\n'But I think, though I have not thought enough yet, that in the diocese\nof Norfolk Island, and in the islands, the running stream of living\nwater and the Catechumens \"going down\" into it is the right mode of\nadministering the holy sacrament. The Lectern and the small Prayer-desk\nare of sandal-wood from Erromango.\n\n'It will be far more like a Church than anything the Pitcairners have\never seen. Perhaps next Christmas--but much may take place before\nthen--I may ordain Palmer Priest, Atkin and Brooke Deacons, and there\nmay be a goodly attendance of Melanesian communicants and candidates for\nbaptism. If so, what a day of hope to look forward to! And then I think\nI see the day of dear George Sarawia's Ordination drawing nigh, if God\ngrant him health and perseverance. He is, indeed, and so are others,\nyounger than he, all that I could desire.\n\n'So, my dear Cousin, see what blessings I have, how small our trials\nare. They may yet come, but it is now just twelve years, exactly twelve\nyears on Monday, since I saw my Father's and Sisters' faces, and how\nlittle have those years been marked with sorrows. My lot is cast in a\ngood land indeed. I read and hear of others, such as that noble Central\nAfrican band, and I wonder how men can go through it all. It comes to\nme as from a distance, not as to one who has experienced such things. We\nknow nothing of war, or famine, or deadly fever; and we seem now to have\na settled plan of work, one of the greatest comforts of all; but while\nI write thus brightly I don't forget that a little thing (humanly\nspeaking) may cause great reverses, delays, and failures.\n\n'I am very glad you understand my unwillingness to write, and still more\nto print over much about our proceedings. I do speak pretty freely in\nNew Zealand and Australia, from whence I profess and mean to draw our\nsupplies.\n\n'Accurate information is all very well, but to convey an idea of our\nlife and work is quite beyond my powers. Still, everything that helps\nthe ordinary men and women of England to look out into the world a bit,\nand see that the Gospel is a power of God, is good.\n\n'And now, good-bye, my dear Cousin. May God bless and keep you.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nOn Lady Day the Bishop wrote to his sisters:--\n\n'This day, twelve years ago, I saw your faces for the last time; and so\nI told Mary Atkin, my good young friend's only sister, as we stood on\nthe beach just now, watching the 'Southern Cross' carrying away her only\nbrother and some forty other people to Norfolk Island.\n\nThe first detachment is therefore gone; I hope that we, the rest, will\nfollow in about sixteen or eighteen days. I think back over these twelve\nyears. On the whole, how smoothly and easily they have passed with\nme! Less of sorrow and anxiety than was crowded into one short year of\nBishop Mackenzie's life. I have been reading Mr. Rowley's book on the\nUniversity Mission to Central Africa, and am glad to have read it.\nThey were indeed fine gallant fellows, full of faith and courage and\nendurance.\n\n'As I write, some dozen boys are on the roof, knocking away the\nshingles, i.e., the wooden tiles of roofing, a carpenter is taking down\nall that needs some more skilled handiwork. In a week the house will all\nbe tied up in bundles of boarding, battens, about 14,000 or 15,000 feet\nof timber in all. Yesterday I was with the Primate; I went up indeed\non Monday afternoon, as the \"Southern Cross\" sailed with thirty-one\nMelanesians at 11 A.M., and I could get away. It was rather a sad day. I\nwas resigning trusts, and it made the departure from New Zealand appear\nvery real.\n\n'April 1st.--My fortieth birthday. It brings solemn thoughts. Last night\nI had to take the service at St. Paul's, and as I came back I thought\nof many things, and principally of how very different I ought to be from\nwhat I am.\n\n'All are well here at Kohimarama. My house knocked down and arrangements\ngoing on, the place leased to Mr. Atkin, Joe Atkin's father, my trusts\nresigned, accounts almost made up, many letters written, business\nmatters arranged.'\n\n\nIn a few days more the last remnant of St. Andrew's was broken up; and\nthe first letter to the Bishop of New Zealand was written from Norfolk\nIsland before the close of the month:--\n\n\n'St. Barnabas' Mission School: April 29, 1867.\n\nMy dear Primate,--We had a fair wind all the way, and having shortened\nsail during all Friday so as not to reach Norfolk Island in the\nnight, made the lead at 5 A.M. on Saturday morning. But a sad casualty\noccurred; we lost a poor fellow overboard, one of the seamen. He ought\nnot to have been lost, and I blame myself. He was under the davits of\nthe boat doing something, and the rope by which he was holding parted;\nthe life-buoy almost knocked him as he passed the quarter of the vessel,\nand I, instead of jumping overboard, and shouting to the Melanesians to\ndo the same, rushed to the falls. The boat was on the spot where his cap\nwas floating within two and a half minutes of the time he fell into the\nsea, but he was gone.\n\n'Fisher in the hurry tore his nail by letting the falls run through his\nhand too fast. I was binding it up, the boat making for the poor fellow\nfaster than any swimmer could have done. How it was that he did not lay\nhold of the buoy, or sank so soon, I can't say; the great mistake was\nnot jumping overboard at once. This is a gloomy beginning, and made us\nall feel very sad. He was not married and was a well-behaved man.\n\n'It was blowing fresh on Saturday, but we anchored under Nepean Island,\nand by hard work cleared the vessel by 5 P.M.; all worked hard, and all\nthe things were landed safely. Palmer, with the cart and boys, was on\nthe pier, and the things were carted and carried into the store as they\narrived. I came on shore about 5, found all well and hearty, the\npeople very friendly, nothing in their manner to indicate any change of\nfeeling.\n\n'I walked up to our place. It is, indeed, a beautiful spot. Palmer has\nworked with a will. I was surprised to see what was done. Some three and\na half acres of fine kumaras, maize, yams, growing well; a yam of ten\npounds weight, smooth and altogether Melanesian, just taken up, not\nquite ripe, so the boys say they will grow much bigger. Abundant supply\nof water, though the summer has been dry.\n\n'Much of the timber has been carted up, more has been stacked at the top\nof the hill. This was carried by the boys, and will be carted along the\npine avenue; a good deal is still near the pines, but properly stacked.\nI see nothing anywhere thrown about, even here not a chip to be seen,\nall buried or burnt, and the place quite neat though unfinished.\n\n'1. House, on the plan of my old house just taken down by Gray, but much\nlarger.\n\n'2. Kitchen of good size.\n\n'3. Two raupo outhouses.\n\n'4. Cow-shed.\n\n'I find it quite assumed here that the question is settled about our\nproperty here; but I have not thought it desirable to talk expressly\nabout it. They talk about school, doctor, and other public arrangements\nas usual.\n\n'It seems that it was on St. Barnabas Day that, after Holy Communion,\nwe walked up here last year and chose the site of the house. The people\nhave of their own accord taken to call the place St. Barnabas; and as\nthis suits the Eton feeling also, and you and others never liked St.\nAndrew's, don't you think we may adopt the new name? Miss Yonge won't\nmind, I am sure.\n\n'I could not resist telling the people that you and Mrs. Selwyn might\ncome for a short time in September next to see them, and they are really\ndelighted; and so shall we be, I can tell you indeed....\n\n'Your affectionate\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe time for the island voyage was fully come; and, after a very brief\nstay in the new abode, the Bishop sailed again for Mota, where the old\nhouse was found (May 8) in a very dilapidated condition; and vigorous\nmending with branches was needed before a corner could be patched up\nfor him to sleep on his table during a pouring wet night, having first\nsupped on a cup of tea and a hot yam, the latter brought from the\nclub-house by one of his faithful adherents; after which an hour and\na half's reading of Lightfoot on the Epistle to the Galatians made him\nforget every discomfort.\n\nThere had, however, been a renewal of fighting of late; and at a village\ncalled Tasmate, a man named Natungoe had ten days previously been shot\nin the breast with a poisoned arrow, and was beginning to show those\nfirst deadly symptoms of tetanus. He had been a well-conducted fellow,\nthough he had hitherto shown indifference to the new teaching; and it\nhad not been in a private quarrel that he was wounded, but in a sudden\nattack on his village by some enemies, when a feast was going on.\n\nOn that first evening when the Bishop went to see him it was plain that\nfar more of the recent instruction had taken root in him than had been\nsupposed. 'He showed himself thoroughly ready to listen, and manifested\na good deal of simple faith. He said he had no resentment against the\nperson who had shot him, and that he did wish to know and think about\nthe world to come. He accepted at once the story of God's love, shown in\nsending Jesus to die for us, and he seemed to have some apprehension of\nwhat God must be, and of what we are--how unlike Him, how unable to make\nourselves fit to be with Him. He certainly spoke of Jesus as of a living\nPerson close by him, willing and able to help him. He of his own accord\nmade a little prayer to Him, \"Help me, wake me, make my heart light,\ntake away the darkness. I wish for you, I want to go to you, I don't\nwant to think about this world.\"'\n\nEarly the next morning the Bishop went again, taking George Sarawia with\nhim. The man said, 'I have been thinking of what you said. I have been\ncalling on the Saviour (i Vaesu) all night.' The Bishop spoke long\nto him, and left Sarawia with him, speaking and praying quietly and\nearnestly.\n\nMeanwhile continues the diary:--\n\n'I went to the men in the village, and spoke at length to them: \"Yes,\nGod will not cast out those who turn to Him when they are called, but\nyou must not suppose that it is told us anywhere that He will save those\nwho care nothing about Him through their years of health, and only\nthink about Him and the world to come when this world is already passing\naway.\"\n\n'How utterly unable one feels to say or do the right thing, and the\nwords fall so flat and dull upon careless ears!'\n\nEvery day for ten days the poor sufferer Natungoe was visited, and he\nlistened with evident faith and comprehension. On May 15 the entry is:--\n\n'I was so satisfied with his expressions of faith in the Saviour, of\nhis hope of living with Him; he spoke so clearly of his belief in Jesus\nhaving been sent from the Great Creator and Father of all to lead us\nback to Him, and to cleanse us from sin, which had kept us from our\nFather, by His Death for us; he was so evidently convinced of the truth\nof our Lord's Resurrection and of the resurrection of us all at the last\nday--that I felt that I ought to baptize him. I had already spoken to\nhim of Baptism, and he seemed to understand that, first, he must believe\nthat the water is the sign of an inward cleansing, and that it has\nno magical efficacy, but that all depended on his having faith in the\npromise and power of God; and second, that Jesus had commanded those who\nwished to believe and love Him to be baptized.\n\n'The expression Nan ive Maroo i Vaesu, \"I wish for the Saviour,\"\nhad been frequently used by him; and I baptized him by the name of\nMaroovaesu, a name instantly substituted for his old name Natungoe by\nthose present.\n\n'I have seen him again to-day; he cannot recover, and at times the\ntetanus spasms are severe, but it is nothing like dear Fisher's case. He\ncan still eat and speak; women sit around holding him, and a few people\nsit or lie about in the hut. It looks all misery and degradation of the\nlowest kind, but there is a blessed change, as I trust, for him.'\n\nOn Sunday the 19th the last agony had come. He lay on a mat on the\nground, in the middle of the village, terribly racked by convulsions,\nbut still able in the intervals to speak intelligibly, and to express\nhis full hope that he was going to his Saviour, and that his pain would\nsoon be over, and he would be at rest with Him, listening earnestly to\nthe Bishop's prayers. He died that night.\n\nIn the meantime, the Bishop had not neglected the attacking party. Of\nthem, one had been killed outright, and two more were recovering from\ntheir wounds, and it was necessary to act as pacificator.\n\n'Meanwhile, I think how very little religion has to do directly\nwith keeping things quiet; in England (for example) men would avenge\nthemselves, and steal and kill, were it not for the law, which is,\nindeed, an indirect result of religion; but religion simply does not\nproduce the effect, i.e. men are not generally religious in England or\nMota. I have Maine's Book of \"Ancient Law\" among the half-dozen books I\nhave brought on shore, and it is extremely interesting to read here.'\n\nHow he read, wrote, or did anything is the marvel, with the hut\nconstantly crowded by men who had nothing to do but gather round, in\nsuffocating numbers, to stare at his pen travelling over the paper.\n'They have done so a hundred times before,' he writes, actually under\nthe oppression, 'but anything to pass an hour lazily. It is useless to\ntalk about it, and one must humour them, or they will think I am vexed\nwith them.'\n\nThe scholars, neatly clothed, with orderly and industrious habits, were\nno small contrast: 'But I miss as yet the link between them and the\nresident heathen people. I trust and pray that George and others may,\nere long, supply it.\n\n'But it is very difficult to know how to help them to change their mode\nof life. Very much, even if they did accept Christianity, must go on\nas before. Their daily occupations include work in the small gardens,\ncooking, &c., and this need not be changed.\n\n'Then as to clothing. I must be very careful lest they should think\nthat wearing clothes is Christianity. Yet certain domestic changes\nare necessary, for a Christian life seems to need certain material\narrangements for decency and propriety. There ought to be partition\nscreens in the hut, for example, and some clothing is desirable no\ndoubt. A resident missionary now could do a good deal towards showing\nthe people why certain customs, &c., are incompatible with a Christian\nlife. His daily teaching would show how Christ acted and taught, and\nhow inconsistent such and such practices must be with the profession of\nfaith in Him. But regulations imposed from without I rather dread, they\nproduce so often an unreasoning obedience for a little while only.\n\nThe rules for the new life should be very few and very simple, and\ncarefully explained. \"Love to God and man,\" explained and illustrated as\nthe consequence of some elementary knowledge of God's love to us, shown\nof course prominently in the giving His own Son to us. There is no lack\nof power to understand simple teaching, a fair proportion of adults take\nit in very fairly. I was rather surprised on Friday evening (some sixty\nor seventy being present) to find that a few men answered really rather\nwell questions which brought out the meaning of some of our Saviour's\nnames.\n\n'\"The Saviour?\"\n\n'\"The saving His people.\"\n\n'\"Not all men? And why not all men? And from what poverty, sickness,\n&c., here below?\"\n\n'\"From their sins.\"\n\n'\"What is sin?\"\n\n'\"All that God has forbidden.\"\n\n'\"What has He forbidden? Why? Because He grudges us anything? Why do you\nforbid a child to taste vangarpal ('poison'), &c. &c.?\"\n\n'\"The Way,\" \"the Mediator,\" \"the Redeemer,\" \"the Resurrection,\" \"the\nAtoner,\" \"the Word.\" Some eight days' teaching had preceded this; but I\ndare say there are ten or fifteen people here now, not our scholars,\nwho can really answer on these points so as to make it clear that they\nunderstand something about the teaching involved in these names. Of\ncourse, I had carefully worked out the best way to accept these names\nand ideas in Mota; and the illustrations, &c., from their customs made\nme think that to some extent they understood this teaching.\n\n'Of course the personal feeling is as pleasant as can be, and I think\nthere is something more: a real belief that our religion and our habits\nare good, and that some day they will be accepted here. A considerable\nnumber of people are leading very respectable lives on the whole. But\nI see that we must try to spend more time here. George Sarawia is being\naccepted to some extent as one whom they are to regard as a teacher.\nHe has a fair amount of influence. But in this little spot, among about\n1,500 people, local jealousies and old animosities are so rife, that the\nstranger unconnected with any one of them has so far a better chance of\nbeing accepted by all; but then comes, on the other hand, his perfect\nknowledge and our comparative ignorance of the language and customs of\nthe people. We want to combine both for a while, till the native teacher\nand clergyman is fully established in his true position.\n\n'It is a curious thing that the Solomon Islanders from the south-east\npart of that group should have dropped so much behind the Banks\nIslanders. I knew their language before I knew the language of Mota,\nthey were (so to say) my favourites. But we can't as yet make any\nimpression upon them. The Loyalty Islanders have been suffered to\ndrop out; and so it is that all our leading scholars, all who set good\nexamples, and are made responsible for various duties, are (with the\nsole exception of Soro, from Mai Island, New Hebrides) from the\nBanks group. Consequently, their language is the lingua franca of the\nschool--not that we made it so, or wished it rather than any other to be\nso; indeed Bauro is easier, and so are some others: but so it is. It is\nan excellent thing, for any Melanesian soon acquires another Melanesian\nlanguage, however different the vocabulary may be. Their ideas and\nthoughts and many of their customs are similar, the mode of life is\nsimilar, and their mode of expressing themselves similar. They think in\nthe same way, and therefore speak in the same way. Their mode of life\nis natural; ours is highly artificial. We are the creatures of a\ntroublesome civilisation to an extent that one realises here. When I go\nashore for five weeks, though I could carry all my luggage, yet it\nmust comprise a coffee-pot, sugar, biscuits, a cork bed, some tins of\npreserved meat, candles, books, and my hut has a table and a stool,\nand I have a cup, saucer, plate, knife, fork, and spoon. My good friend\nGeorge, who I think is on the whole better dressed than I am, and\nwho has adopted several of our signs of civilisation, finds the food,\ncooking, and many of the ways of the island natural and congenial, and\nwould find them so throughout the Pacific.\n\n'May 2lst.--The morning and evening school here is very nice. I doubt if\nI am simple enough in my teaching. I think I teach too much at a time;\nthere is so much to be taught, and I am so impatient, I don't go slowly\nenough, though I do travel over the same ground very often. Some few\ncertainly do take in a good deal.\n\n'A very hot day, after much rain. This morning we took down our old\nwooden hut, that was put up here by us six years ago. Parts of it are\nuseless, for in our absence the rain damaged it a good deal. I mean to\ntake it across to Arau, Henry Tagalana's little island, for there, even\nin very wet weather, there is little fear of ague, the soil being light\nand sandy. It would be a great thing to escape from the rich soil and\nluxuriant vegetation in the wet months, if any one of us spent a long\ntime here. It was hot work, but soon over. It only took about two and\na half hours to take down, and stack all the planks, rafters, &c. Two\nfellows worked well, and some others looked on and helped now and then.\n\n'I have had some pleasant occupation for an hour or so each day in\nclearing away the bush, which in one year grows up surprisingly here.\nMany lemon, citron, and orange trees that we planted some years ago.\ncocoa-nut trees also, were almost, some quite overgrown, quite hidden,\nand our place looked and was quite small and close; but one or two hours\nfor a few days, spent in clearing, have made a great difference. I have\nplanted out about twenty-five lemon suckers, and as many pine-apples,\nfor our old ones were growing everywhere in thick clumps, and I have to\nthin them out.\n\n'Yesterday was a great day; we cut down two large trees, round one of\nwhich I had carelessly planted orange, lemon, and cocoa-nut trees, so\nthat we did not know how to fell it so as to avoid crushing some fine\nyoung trees; but the tree took the matter into its own hands, for it was\nhollow in the centre, and fell suddenly, so that the fellows holding the\nrope could not guide it, and it fell at right angles to the direction we\nhad chosen, but right between all the trees, without seriously hurting\none. It quite reminds me of old tree-cutting days at Feniton; only here\nI see no oaks, nor elms, nor beeches, nor firs, only bread-fruit trees\nand almond trees, and many fruit-bearing trees--oranges, &c., and guavas\nand custard-apples--growing up (all being introduced by us), and the two\ngigantic banyan trees, north and south of my little place. It is so very\npretty!\n\n'I don't trouble myself much about cooking. My little canteen is\ncapital; and I can make myself all sorts of good things, if I choose to\ntake the trouble, and some days I do so. I bake a little bread now and\nthen, and natter myself it is uncommonly good; and one four-pound tin of\nBloxland's preserved meat from Queensland has already lasted me twelve\ndays, and there is about half of it remaining. He reckons each pound\nwell soaked and cooked to be equal to three pounds, and I think he is\nright. A very little of this, with a bit of yam deliciously cooked,\nand brought to me each day as a present by some one from their cooking\novens, makes a capital dinner. Then I have some rice and sugar for\nbreakfast, a biscuit and coffee, and a bit of bread-fruit perhaps; and\nall the little delicacies are here--salt, pepper, mustard, even to a\nbottle of pickles--so I am pretty well off, I think.\n\n'I find that the white ant, or an insect like it, is here. The plates\nof our old hut are quite rotten, the outside still untouched, all within\nlike tinder. They call the insect vanoa; it is not found in New Zealand,\nbut it is a sad nuisance in Australia.\n\n'I do not read much here this time, so much of every day is taken up\nwith talking to the people about me. That is all right, and I generally\ncan turn the talk to something that I wish them to hear, so it is all\nin the way of business here. And I am glad to say that my school, and\nconversations and lessons, need some careful preparation. I have spent\nsome time in drawing up for myself a little scheme of teaching for\npeople in the state of my friends here. I ought of course to have done\nit long ago, and it is a poor thing now. I cannot take a real pleasure\nin teaching, and so I do it badly. I am always, almost always, glad when\nschool is over, though sometimes I get much interested myself, though\nnot often able to interest others.\n\n'I am reading some Hebrew nearly every day, and Lightfoot on the\nGalatians, Tyler's \"Researches into the Early History of Mankind,\"\nDollinger's \"First Ages of the Church,\" and \"Ecce Homo.\" I tried Maine's\n\"Ancient Law,\" but it is too tough for the tropics, unless I chance\nto feel very fresh. I generally get an hour in the evening, if I am\nsleeping at home.\n\n'May 23rd.--I suppose anyone who has lived in a dirty Irish\nvillage--pigs, fowls, and children equally noisy and filthy, and the\nparents wild, ignorant, and impulsive--may have some notion of this kind\nof thing. You never get a true account, much less a true illustration of\nthe real thing. Did you happen to see a ridiculous engraving on one of\nthe S. P. Gr. sheets some years ago, supposed to be me taking two Ambrym\nboys to the boat? (Footnote: No such engraving can be found by the S. P.\nGr. It was probably put forth in some other publication.) Now it is much\nbetter not to draw at all than to draw something which can only mislead\npeople. If Ambrym boys really looked like those two little fellows, and\nif the boat with bland-looking white men could quietly be pulled to the\nbeach, and if I, in a respectable dress, could go to and from the boat\nand the shore, why the third stage of Mission work has been reached\nalready! I don't suppose you can picture to yourselves the real state\nof things in this, and in many of these islands, and therefore the great\ndifficulty there is in getting them out of their present social, or\nunsocial, state!\n\n'To follow Christian teaching out in detail, to carry it out from the\nschool into the hut, into the actual daily life of the dirty naked\nwomen, and still dirtier though not more naked children; to get the men\nreally to abandon old ways from a sense of responsibility and duty and\nlove to God, this of course comes very slowly. I am writing very lazily,\nbeing indeed tired with heat and mosquitos. The sun is very hot again\nto-day. I have no thermometer here, but it feels as if it ought to be\n90\u00b0 in the shade.\n\n'May 25th.--George Sarawia spent yesterday here, and has just gone to\nhis village. He and I had a good deal of conversation. I copied out for\nhim the plan of teaching drawn up from books already printed in their\nlanguage. He speaks encouragingly, and is certainly recognised as one\nwho is intended to be the teacher here. No one is surprised that he\nshould be treated by me in a very different way from anyone else, with\na complete confidence and a mutual understanding of each other. He is a\nthoroughly good, simple-minded fellow, and I hope, by God's blessing, he\nmay do much good. He told me that B---- wants to come with me again; but\nI cannot take him. As we have been living properly, and for the sake\nof the head school and our character in the eyes of the people here, I\ncannot take him until he shows proof of a real desire to do his duty. I\nam very sorry for it. I have all the old feeling about him; and he is\nso quick and intelligent, but he allows himself again and again to be\novercome by temptation, hard I dare say to withstand; but this conduct\ndoes disqualify him for being chosen to go with us. I am leaving behind\nsome good but dull boys, for I can't make room as yet for them, and I\nmust not take an ill-conducted fellow because he is quick and clever. He\nhas some sort of influence in the place from his quickness, and from his\nhaving acquired a good deal of riches while with us. He says nothing,\naccording to Sarawia, for or against our teaching. Meanwhile, he lives\nmuch like a somewhat civilised native. Poor fellow! I sent a message to\nhim by George that if he wished to see me, I should be very willing to\nhave a talk with him.\n\n'Yesterday we made some sago. A tree is cut down in its proper stage of\ngrowth, just when it begins to flower. The pith is pulled and torn into\nshreds and fibres, then the juice is squeezed out so as to allow it to\nrun or drip into some vessel, while water is poured on the pith by some\none assisting the performer. The grounds (as say of coffee) remain at\nthe bottom when the water is poured off, and an hour of such a sun as\nwe had yesterday dries and hardens the sago. It is then fit for use. I\nsuppose that it took an hour and a half to prepare about a slop-basin\nfull of the dried hard sago. I have not used it vet. We brought tapioca\nhere some years ago, and they used it in the same way, and they had\nabundance of arrow-root. On Monday I will make some, if all is well. Any\nfellow is willing to help for a few beads or fish-hooks, and they do all\nthe heavy work, the fetching water, &c.\n\n'I never saw anything like the pigeons in the great banyan tree close\nby. They eat its berries, and I really think there are at times more\nthan a hundred at once in it. Had I a gun here I think I might have\nbrought down three or four at a shot yesterday, sitting shot of course,\nbut then I should shoot \"for the pot.\" Palmer had his gun here last\nyear, and shot as many as he wanted at any time. The bats at night are\ninnumerable; they too eat the banyan berries, but chiefly the ripening\nbread-fruit. The cats we brought here have nearly cleared the place of\nthe small rats which used to abound here; but lizards abound in this\nhut, because it is not continually smoke-dried.\n\n'Last night I think some of the people here heard some rather new\nnotions, to them, about the true relation of man and woman, parent and\nchild, &c. They said, as they do often say, \"Every word is true! how\nfoolish we are!\" But how to get any of them to start on a new course is\nthe question.\n\n'Ascension Day, May 30th.--There is a good deal of discussion going on\nnow among the people. I hear of it not only from our old scholars, but\nfrom some of the men. I have been speaking day by day more earnestly to\nthe people; always reading here and there verses of the Gospels or the\nActs, or paraphrasing some passage so that they may have the actual\nwords in which the message is recorded. They say, \"This is a heavy,\na weighty word,\" and they are talking, as they say, night after night\nabout it. Some few, and they elderly men, say, \"Let us talk only about\nour customs here.\" Others say, \"No, no; let us try to think out the\nmeaning of what he said.\" A few come and ask me questions, only a few,\nnot many are in earnest, and all are shy. Many every night meet in\nRobert Pantatun's house, twenty-five or thirty, and ask him all manner\nof questions, and he reads a little. They end with prayer.\n\n'They have many strange customs and superstitious observances peculiar\nto this group. They have curious clubs, confraternities with secret\nrites of initiation. The candidate for admission pays pigs and native\nmoney, and after many days' seclusion in a secret place is, with great\nceremony, recognised as a member. No woman and none of the uninitiated\nmay know anything of these things.\n\n'In every village there is a Sala Goro, a place for cooking, which only\nthose who have \"gazed at the sacred symbol\" may frequent. Food cooked\nthere may not be eaten by one uninitiated, or by women or children.\nThe path to the Sala Goro is never trodden by any woman or matanomorous\n(\"eye closed\"). When any ceremony is going on the whole of the precincts\nof the Sala Goro are sacred. At no time dare any woman eat with any man,\nno husband with his wife, no father with his daughter as soon as she is\nno longer a child.\n\n'Of course such a system can be used by us in two ways. I say, \"You have\nyour method of assembling together, and you observe certain customs in\nso doing; so do we, but yours is an exclusive and selfish system: your\nsecret societies are like our clubs, with their entrance fees, &c. But\nChrist's society has its sacred rite of admission, and other mysteries\ntoo, and it is for all who wish to belong to it. He recognises no\ndistinction of male or female, bond or free.\"\n\n'Some of the elder men are becoming suspicious of me. I tell them\nplainly that whatever there may be in their customs incompatible with\nthe great law of Love to God and man must come to nought. \"You beat and\nterrify matanomorous in order to make them give, that you may get pigs\nand native money from them. Such conduct is all wrong, for if you beat\nor frighten a youth or man, you certainly can't love him.\"\n\n'At the same time I can't tell how far this goes. If there were a real\nceremony of an idol or prayer to it, of course it would be comparatively\neasy to act in the matter; but the ceremony consists in sticking a\ncurious sort of mitre, pointed and worked with hair, on the head of the\ncandidate, and covering his body with a sort of Jack-in-the green wicker\nwork of leaves, &c., and they joke and laugh about it, and attach,\napparently, no religious significance to it whatever.\n\n'I think it has the evil which attends all secret societies, that it\ntends to produce invidious distinctions and castes. An instinct impels\nmen to form themselves into associations; but then Christ has satisfied\nthat instinct legitimately in the Church.\n\n'Christianity does meet a human instinct; as, e.g., the Lord's Supper,\nwhatever higher and deeper feelings it may have, has this simple, but\nmost significant meaning to the primitive convert, of feasting as a\nchild with his brethren and sisters at the Father's Board.\n\n'The significance of this to people living as more than half the human\nbeings in the world are living still, is such as we have lost the power\nof conceiving; the Lord's Supper has so long had, so to say, other\nmeanings for many of us. Yet to be admitted a member of God's family,\nand then solemnly at stated times to use this privilege of membership,\nstrengthening the tie, and familiarising oneself more and more with the\ncustoms of that heavenly family, this surely is a very great deal of\nwhat human instinct, as exhibited in almost universal customs, requires.\n\n'There are depths for those who can dive into them; but I really think\nthat in some of these theological questions we view the matter solely\nfrom our state of civilisation and thought, and forget the multitudes of\nuneducated, rude, unrefined people to whom all below the simple meaning\nis unmeaning. May I not say to Robert Pantatun, \"Christ, you know, gave\nHis Body and Blood for us on the Cross, He gives them to you now, for\nall purposes of saving you and strengthening your spiritual life, while\nyou eat and drink as an adopted child at your Father's Table\"?\n\n'It is the keeping alive the consciousness of the relation of all\nchildren to God through Christ that is needed so much. And with these\nactual sights before me, and you have them among you in the hundreds of\nthousands of poor ignorant creatures, I almost wonder that men should\nspend so much time in refining upon points which never can have a\npractical meaning for any persons not trained to habits of accurate\nthought and unusual devotion. But here I am very likely wrong, and\ncommitting the very fault of generalizing from my own particular\nposition.\n\n'June 4th.--I was greatly pleased, on Friday evening last which George\nSarawia spent here with me, to hear from him that he had been talking\nwith the Banks Islanders at Norfolk Island, and on board ship, about\na plan which he now proposed to me. I had indeed thought of it, but\nscarcely saw my way. It is a new proof of his real earnestness, and of\nhis seeking the good of his people here. The plan is this:--\n\n'G. S. \"Bishop, we have been talking together about your buying some\nland here, near your present place, where we all can live together,\nwhere we can let the people see what our mode of life is, what our\ncustoms are, which we have learnt from you.\"\n\n'J. C. P. \"Capital, George, but are you all willing to give up your\nliving in villages among your own particular relations?\"\n\n'G. S. \"Yes, we all agreed about it. You see, sir, if we live scattered\nabout we are not strong enough to hold our ground, and some of the\nyounger ones fall back into their old ways. The temptations are great,\nand what can be expected of one or two boys among eighty or ninety\nheathen people?\"\n\n'J. C. P. \"Of course you know what I think about it. It is the very\nthing I have always longed for. I did have a general school here, as you\nknow.\"\n\n'G. S. \"Yes, but things are different now. People are making enquiries.\nMany young fellows want to understand our teaching, and follow it. If we\nhave a good large place of our own there, we can carry on our own mode\nof living without interfering with other people.\"\n\n'J. G. P. \"Yes, and so we can, actually in the midst of them, let them\nsee a Christian village, where none of the strange practices which are\ninconsistent with Christianity will be allowed, and where the comforts\nand advantages of our customs may be actually seen.\"\n\n'G. S. \"By-and-by it will be a large village, and many will wish to live\nthere, and not from many parts of Mota only.\"\n\n'Well, I have told you, I suppose, of the fertility of this island, and\nhow it is far more than sufficient to supply the wants of the people.\nFood is wasted on all sides. This very day I have plucked ten large\nbread-fruits, and might have plucked forty now nearly ripe, simply that\nthe bats may not get them. I gave them away, as I can't eat more than a\nthird part of one at a meal.\n\n'So I went with George on Saturday, and we chose such a beautiful\nproperty, between Veverao and Maligo, I dare say about ten acres. Then\nI spoke to the people here, explaining my wishes and motives. To-day we\nhave been over it with a large party, that all might be done publicly\nand everybody might hear and know. The land belongs to sixteen different\nowners; the cocoa-nut trees, breadfruit, almond, and other fruit-trees\nare bought separately.\n\n'They all agree; indeed, as they have abundance of space of spare land\njust as good all about, and they will get a good stock of hatchets,\npigs, &c., from me, for this land, there is not much doubt about that.\nBut it is pleasant to hear some of them say, \"No, no, that is mine and\nmy son's, and he is your boy. You can have that for nothing.\"\n\n'I shan't take it; it is safer to buy, but it is pleasant to see the\nkind feeling.\n\n'If it be God's will to prosper this undertaking, we should begin next\nyear with about fifteen of our own scholars, and a goodly number of\nhalf-scholars, viz., those who are now our regular scholars here, but\nhave not been taken to New Zealand.\n\n'Fencing, clearing, &c., could go on rapidly. Many would help, and small\npayments of beads and fish-hooks can always secure a man's services.\n\n'I should build the houses with the material of the island, save only\nwindows, but adopt of course a different shape and style for them. The\nidea would be to have everything native fashion, but improved, so as to\nbe clearly suitable for the wants of people sufficiently civilised. All\nthat a Christian finds helpful and expedient we ought to have, but to\nadopt English notions and habits would defeat my object. The people\ncould not adopt them, there would be no teaching for them. I want to be\nable to say: \"Well, you see, there is nothing to prevent you from having\nthis and that, and your doing this and that.\"\n\n'We must have some simple rules about cleanliness, working hours, &c.,\nbut all that is already familiar to those who have been with us at\nKohimarama and Norfolk Island. Above all, I rejoice in the thought that\nthe people understand that very soon this plan is to be worked by George\nSarawia. He is to be the, so to say, head of the Christian village. I\nshall be a kind of Visitor. Palmer will, of course, be wanted at first,\nbut must avoid the fault of letting the people, our own pupils as well\nas others, become dependent upon us. The Paraguay Mission produced\ndocile good-natured fags for the missionaries, but the natives had\nlearnt no self-respect, manliness, nor positive strength of character.\nThey fought well, and showed pluck when the missionaries armed them,\nbut they seem to have had no power of perpetuating their newly-learnt\ncustoms, without the continual guidance of the missionaries. It may be\nthat such supervision is necessary; but I do not think it is so, and I\nshould be sorry to think it is so.'\n\nAs usual, the Mota climate told on the health of the party, there was\ngeneral influenza, and the Bishop had a swelling under his left arm;\nbut on Whitsunday the 'Southern Cross,' which had been to set down the\nSolomon Islanders, returned, and carried him off. Vanua Lava was touched\nat, and a stone, carved by John Adams, put up at Fisher Young's grave,\nwhich was found, as before, well kept in order. Then the round of the\nNew Hebrides was made; but new volunteers were refused, or told to wait\nten moons, as it was an object to spend the first season in the new\nlocality with tried scholars.\n\nAt 'the grand island, miscalled Leper's,' the Bishop slept ashore for\nthe first time, and so also at Whitsuntide.\n\nAt Espiritu Santo much friendliness was shown, and a man would not take\na present Mr. Atkin offered, because he had nothing, to pay for it.\nSanta Cruz, as usual, was disappointing, as, Mr. Atkin says, the only\nword in their mouths, the only thought in their heads, was 'iron;'\nthey clamoured for this, and would not listen; moreover, their own\npronunciation of their language was very indistinct, owing to their\nteeth being destroyed by the use of the betel-nut, so that they all\nspoke like a man with a hot potato in his mouth.\n\n'So again we leave this fine island without any advance, as far as we\ncan see, having been made. I may live to think these islanders very\nwild, and their speech very difficult, yet I know no more of them\nnow than I did years ago. Yet I hope that some unforeseen means for\n\"entering in among\" them may be given some day. Their time is to come,\nsooner or later, when He knows it to be the right time.'\n\nSavo was then touched at; and the Bishop slept ashore at Florida, and\nleft Mr. Brooke there to the hospitality of three old scholars for a few\ndays, by way of making a beginning. The observations on the plan show a\nstrange sense of ageing at only forty:--\n\n'He speaks the language fairly; and his visit will, I hope, do good. Of\ncourse he will be tired, and will enjoy the quiet of the schooner after\nit. I know what that is pretty well, and it takes something to make one\nprefer the little vessel at sea to any kind of shore life. However,\nhe has youth and cheery spirits at command, and that makes life on an\nisland. A man whose tastes naturally are for books, &c., rather than\nfor small talk, and who can't take much interest in the very trifling\nmatters that engage the attention of these poor fellows, such a man\nfinds it very tiring indeed sometimes, when a merry bright good-natured\nfellow would amuse himself and the natives too.\n\n'In these introductory visits, scarcely anything is done or said that\nresembles Mission work as invented in stories, and described by the very\nvivid imagination, of sensational writers. The crowd is great, the noise\ngreater, the heat, the dirt, the inquisitiveness, the endless repetition\nof the same questions and remarks, the continual requests for a\nfish-hook, for beads, &c.--this is somewhat unlike the interesting\npictures, in a Missionary Magazine, of an amiable individual very\ncorrectly got up in a white tie and black tailed coat, and a group of\nvery attentive, decently-clothed and nicely-washed natives. They are\nwild with excitement, not to hear \"the good news,\" but to hear how the\ntrading went on: \"How many axes did they sell? How many bits of iron?\"\n\n'You say, \"Why do you trade at all?\" Answer: In the first visits that we\nmake we should at once alienate all the goodwill of the people from us\nunless we so far complied with their desire to get iron tools, or to\ntrade more or less with them. As soon as I can I give presents to three\nor four leading men, and then let the buying curiosities be carried on\nby the crew and others; but not to trade at all would be equivalent to\ngiving up hope of establishing any intercourse with the people.\n\n'But in new islands, and upon our first visits, if we do get a chance\nof saying something amid the uproar, what can we say about religion\nthat will be intelligible to men whose language has never been used to\nexpress any thought of ours that we long to communicate, and whose minds\nare pre-occupied by the visit of the vessel, and the longing for our\narticles of trade? Sometimes we do try to say a few words; sometimes\nwe do a little better, we get a hearing, some persons listen with some\ninterest; but usually, if we can merely explain that we don't come to\ntrade, though we trade to please them, that we wish to take lads and\nteach them, we are obliged to be satisfied. \"Teach them! teach them\nwhat?\" think the natives. Why, one old hatchet would outweigh in their\nminds all that boy or man can gain from any teaching. What appreciable\nvalue can reading, writing, wearing clothes, &c., have in their eyes? So\nwe must in first visits (of which I am now thinking) be thankful that\nwe can in safety sleep on shore at all, and regard the merely making\nfriends with the people as a small beginning of Mission work.\n\n'Poor fellows! they think it very strange! As you lie down in the dark\nand try to sleep, you presently feel hands stroking your arms and\nlegs, and feeling you about to make sure that the stranger has the same\nallowance of arms and legs that they have; and you overhear such quaint\nremarks as you lie still, afraid to let them know that you are awake,\nlest they should oblige you to begin talking over again the same things\nthat you have already said twenty times.'\n\nMr. Brooke stayed four days at Florida; and came away with three former\npupils, and four new ones, one of them grown up, a relative of the\nleading man of the island. Taroniara was the only Bauro scholar brought\naway this time; but so many were taken from Mota that the whole party\nnumbered thirty-seven, seven of them girls, all betrothed to one or\nother of the lads. The entire colony at St. Barnabas, including English,\nwas thus raised to seventy, when the 'Southern Cross' returned thither\nin August. On the 23rd, Bishop Patteson writes:--\n\n'I wish you could see this place and the view from this room. I have\nonly got into it within this hour. The carpenters are just out of it.\nYou know that I left Palmer here about eleven months ago, on the return\nfrom that island voyage. He had sixteen lads with him, of whom eleven\nwere good stout fellows.\n\n'He did work wonderfully. The place I chose for the site of the station\nis about three miles from the settlement--the town, as the people call\nit. If you have a map of the island, you will see Longridge on the\nwestern part of it. Follow on the principal road, which goes on beyond\nLongridge in a N. and NW. direction, and about a mile beyond Longridge\nis our station. The top of Mount Pitt is nearly opposite our houses, of\nwhich two are now habitable, though not finished. The third, which is\nthe house at Kohimarama which I had for one year, and in which Sir W.\nand Lady Martin spent ten days, will be begun on Monday next, I hope.\nThe labour of getting all these things from New Zealand and then landing\nthem (for there is no harbour), and then carting them up here (for there\nare no really good horses here, but the two I bought and sent down),\nwas very considerable. Palmer and his boys worked admirably. He was\nindustrious indeed. He and they lived at first in a little cottage,\nabout three-quarters of a mile from our place, i.e., about a quarter of\na mile from Longridge. During the first month, while they had no cart or\nhorses as yet (for I had to send them down from Auckland), they\nfenced in some lands (the wire for which I had bought at Sydney, and\na man-of-war brought it hither), planted yams (which grow excellently,\nsuch a crop never was seen here) and sweet potatoes, melons, vegetables,\n&c. Meanwhile, the timber for the houses was being sent as I had\nopportunity, a large quantity having been already taken to Norfolk\nIsland in a man-of-war. Luckily, timber was selling very cheap at\nAuckland.\n\n'After this first month, Palmer set to work at house building. He built\nentirely by himself, save the chimney and some part of the shingling\n(wooden roofing). As yet, no rooms have any ceiling or lining; they\nmight by innocent people be thought to resemble barns, but they are\nweather-proof, strong, and answer all present purposes. The verandah,\nabout 8 feet broad, is another great room really.\n\n'I am still buying and sending down bricks, timber, &c. Two Auckland\ncarpenters, thoroughly steady men, left Norfolk Island, about three\nweeks after we left it, for the Melanesian islands. They have been\nputting up my special building. We have no doors like hall doors, as\nall the rooms open with glass doors on to the verandah, and they are the\ndoors for going in and out. Comprenez-vous? The ground slopes away from\nthese two houses for some 200 yards or more to a little stream; and this\nslope is all covered with sweet potatoes and vegetables, and Codrington\nand Palmer have planted any number of trees, bushes, flowers, &c.\nEverything grows, and grows luxuriantly. Such soil, such a climate!\n\n'By-and-by I shall have, I hope, such myrtles and azaleas, kalmias and\ncrotons, and pine-apples and almond trees, bananas and tree-ferns, and\nmagnolias and camellias, &c., all in the open air.\n\n'The ground slopes up beyond the little stream, a beautiful wooded bank,\nwooded with many kinds of trees and bushes, large Norfolk Island pines;\ncattle and sheep stray about. Oh! how very pretty it is! And then beyond\nand above this first slope, the eye travels along the slopes of the Pitt\nto its summit, about 1,000 feet, a pretty little hill. It is, indeed,\na calm peaceful scene, away from noise and bustle, plenty of pleasant\nsounds of merry boys working in the gardens, and employing themselves\nin divers ways. The prospect is (D. Gr.) a very happy one. It is some\npleasure to work here, where the land gives \"her increase\" indeed.\n\n'All seem very happy and well pleased with the place. I don't see how\nit can be otherwise, and yet to the young people there may be something\nattractive in society. But the young ones must occasionally go to\nAuckland or Sydney, or whithersoever they please, for a two or three\nmonths' holiday. For me, what can I desire more than this place affords?\nMore than half of each year spent here if I live, and quietly, with any\namount of work, uninterrupted work, time for quiet reading and thought.\nThis room of mine in which I now am sitting is magnifique, my dear Joan;\nseriously, a very good room. You see it will be full of boys and girls;\nand I must have in it many things, not books only, for the general use\nof all here, so that I determined to make it a nice place at once.\n\n'This room then, nicely lined, looking rather like a wooden box, it\nis true, but clean and airy, is 22 feet x 14 feet 6 in., and the wall\nplates 9 feet 6 in. high, the ceiling coved a little, so as to be nearly\n14 feet high in the centre. What do you think of that for a room? It\nhas a fire-place, and wide verandah, which is nearly 6 feet above the\nground, so that I am high and dry, and have all the better view too,\nquite a grand flight of steps--a broad ladder--up into my house. The\nMahaga lads and I call it my tree-house.\n\n'Then I have one great luxury. I thought I would have it, and it is\nso nice. My room opens into the Chapel by red baize swinging doors; my\nprivate entrance, for there is a regular porch where the rest go in.\n\n'Service at 7 A.M. and 8 P.M. But it is always open, boys come in of a\nmorning to say their private prayers, for sleeping together in one room\nthey have little privacy there. And I can go in at all hours. Soon it\nwill become a sacred spot to us. It is really like a Chapel.\n\n'August 27th.--Your birthday, my dear old Fan! God bless you, and\ngrant you all true happiness, and the sense of being led onwards to the\neternal peace and joy above. The parting here is a long one; and likely\nto be a parting for good, as far as this world is concerned.\n\n'Last night was the coldest night that they have had during the whole\nwinter; the thermometer touched 43\u00b0--Codrington has regular registering\nthermometers, so you see what a charming climate this is for us. Palmer\nwas here all the summer, and he says that the heat, though great as\nmarked by thermometer, was never trying, relaxing, and unfitting for\nwork, as at Kohimarama.'\n\nThus began the first period of the residence in Norfolk Island; where\nMr. Codrington's account of the way of life shall supplement the\nabove:--\n\n'When the Bishop returned in August 1867, our party consisted of\nhimself, Mr. Palmer in Deacon's orders, and myself, Mr. Atkin and Mr.\nBrooke already experienced in the work, and Mr. Bice, who had with\nmyself lately arrived from England. The whole number of Melanesians was\nabout sixty; among the eldest of these the most intelligent and advanced\nof the few then baptized, George, Henry, B----, Robert and Edward. There\nwere then, I think, thirteen baptized, and two Communicants. To this\nelder class, the Bishop, as far as I can recollect, devoted the greater\npart of his time. He said that now for the first time he was able\nwithout interruption to set to work to teach them, and he certainly made\ngreat progress in those months. I remember that every evening they used\nto sit in Chapel after prayers, and consider what difficulty or question\nthey should propound to him; and he would come in after a time, and,\nafter hearing the question, discuss the subject, discourse upon it, and\nend with prayer. They were at the time, I remember, much impressed by\nthis; and those who were the most advanced took in a great deal of an\nelevated strain of doctrine which, no doubt, passed over the heads of\nthe greater number, but not without stirring up their hearts.\n\n'It became a regular custom on the evening before the Communion Sunday,\ni.e., every other Sunday, to give the Communicants instruction and\npreparation after the Chapel service. At this time there was no Sunday\nsermon in Chapel. The Bishop used to say that the preaching was done\nin the school; but much of his school was of a hortatory kind in the\nChapel, and often without taking off the surplice.\n\n'At this time I should add that he used from time to time to have other\nboys with him to school, and particularly Solomon Islanders, whose\nlanguages he alone could generally speak. He had also a good deal with\nhim the second set of eight Banks Islanders, who were by this time\nrecognised Catechumens.\n\n'There were other occupations of the Bishop's time, besides his school\nwith Melanesians. The hour from 12 to 1 was devoted to instruction given\nto the two young men, one from New Zealand and one a son of Mr. Nobbs,\nwho were working with the Mission; and on alternate days to the younger\nmembers of the Mission, who were being prepared for Ordination.\n\n'The reading with the younger clergy continued to be to the last one\nof the most regular and most fruitful of the Bishop's engagements. The\neducation which Mr. Atkin had for many years received from the Bishop\nhad set him considerably above the average of young English clergy,\nnot only in scholarship and information, but also in habits of literary\nindustry. The Bishop, with his own great interest in Hebrew, enjoyed\nvery much his Hebrew reading with Mr. Atkin and Mr. Bice.\n\n'The Bishop also began as soon as he could to pay attention to the\nteaching of the young Norfolk Islanders. He preached very often in their\nChurch, and went down on Wednesdays to take a class of candidates for\nConfirmation. He said, and I believe with truth, that he wasted a great\ndeal of time in preparing his lessons with the candidates for Ordination\nor younger clergy; that is, he looked up the subject in some book, and\nread on and on till he had gone far beyond the point in search of which\nhe started, and had no time left to take up the other points which\nbelonged to the subject he had in view. I should say he was always a\ndesultory scholar, reading very much and to very great purpose, but\nbeing led continually from one subject or one book to another long\nbefore coming to an end of the first. He was always so dissatisfied with\nwhat he did, that whereas there are remaining several beginnings of one\nor two pages on one subject or another, there is no paper of his which\nis more than a fragment--that is, in English. There is one series of\nNotes on the Catechism in Mota complete. In those days I was not myself\nable to converse sufficiently in Mota to learn much from the elder boys\nabout the teaching they were receiving; but it was evident that they\nwere much impressed and stirred up, they spent much time with their\nbooks by themselves, and one could not fail to form a high estimate of\nthe work that was going on. Now they say they never had school like that\nbefore or since. The Bishop was, in fact, luxuriating in the unbroken\nopportunity of pouring out instruction to intelligent and interested\nscholars. I think it was altogether a happy time to him; he enjoyed the\nsolitude, the advantages of the move to the island were apparent in the\nschool work, and were anticipated in the farm, and the hope of doing\nsomething for the Pitcairn people, which I believe had much to do with\nfixing the Mission here, was fresh.'\n\nThis judgment is thoroughly borne out by the Bishop's own letter to his\nsisters of October 27, wherein it appears how considerable an element of\nhis enjoyment and comfort was Mr. Codrington's own companionship, partly\nas a link with the younger members of the little community:--\n\n'Do I feel doubtful about an early Communion Service, Codrington, when I\nbroach the matter, takes it up more eagerly almost than I do; and then\nI leave him to talk with the others, who could hardly differ from me on\nsuch a point if they wished to do so, but will speak freely to him.\nNot that, mind, I am aware of there being anything like a feeling of\ndistance between me and them, but necessarily they must just feel that\nI am forty and their Bishop, and so I might perhaps influence them too\nmuch, which would be undesirable.\n\n'Then I can talk with him on matters which of course have special\ninterest for me, for somehow I find that I scarcely ever read or think\non any points which do not concern directly my work as clergyman or\nlanguage-monger. It is very seldom that I touch a book which is not a\ncommentary on the Bible or a theological treatise, scarcely ever, and of\ncourse one likes to talk about those things of which one's mind is full.\nThat made the talks with the Judge so delightful. Now young people, of\ncourse, have their heads full (as I used to have mine) of other things,\nand so my talk would be dull and heavy to them.\n\n'No doubt, if you had me at home you would find that I am pretty full of\nthoughts on some points, but not very well able to express myself, and\nto put my thoughts into shape. It is partly want of habit, because,\nexcept as one speaks somewhat dictatorially to pupils, I do not arrange\nmy ideas by conversing with others--to a great extent, from want of\ninclination, i.e., indolence, and also I have not the brains to think\nout a really difficult subject. I am amused occasionally to see what a\nfalse estimate others form of me in that way. You see it has pleased\nGod to give me one faculty in rather an unusual degree, that of learning\nlanguages, but in every other respect my abilities are very moderate\nindeed. Distance exaggerates of course, and I get credit with some folks\nfor what if I had it would simply be a gift and no virtue in me; but\nI attain anything I work at with very considerable labour, and my mind\nmoves very sluggishly, and I am often very dull and stupid. You may\njudge, therefore, of the great advantage of having a bright, cheery,\nintelligent, well-informed man among us, without whom every meal would\nbe heavy and silent, and we should (by my fault) get into a mechanical\ngrind....\n\n'As for your own worthy Brother, I don't think I knew what rest meant\ntill I got here. I work, in one sense, as hard as before, i.e., from\nearly morn till 10 P.M., with perhaps the intermission of a hour and\na half for exercise, besides the twenty minutes for each of the three\nmeals; and did my eyes allow it, I could go on devouring books much\nlater. But then I am not interrupted and distracted by the endless\noccupation of the New Zealand life. Oh! how utterly distasteful to me\nwere all those trustee meetings, those English duties of all kinds, and\nmost of all, those invasions of Kohimarama by persons for whom I could\nget up no interest. I am not defending these idiosyncrasies as if they\nwere all right, but stating what I felt and what I feel. I am indeed\nvery happy here; I trust not less useful in my way. School of course\nflourishes. You would be surprised at the subjects that I and my first\nclass work at. No lack of brains! Perhaps I can express it briefly by\nsaying that I have felt for a year or more the need of giving them\nthe Gospel of St. John. Because they were ready, thank God, for those\nmarvellous discourses and arguments in that blessed Gospel, following\nupon the record of miracles wrought or events that happened.\n\n'Of course the knowledge of the facts must come first, but there was\nalways in school with me--either they have it as a natural gift, or my\nteaching takes naturally that line--a tendency to go deeper than the\nmere apprehension of a fact, a miracle wrought, or a statement made.\nThe moral meaning of the miracle, the principle involved in the less\nimportant expression of it, or particular manifestation of it, these\npoints always of late I am able to talk about as to intelligent and\ninterested listeners. I have these last six weeks been translating St.\nJohn; it is nearly done. Think, Fan, of reading, as I did last night, to\na class of fifteen Melanesian Christians, the very words of St. John vi.\nfor the first time in their ears! They had heard me paraphrase much of\nit at different times. I don't notice these things, unless (as now) I\nchance to write about them. After 6 P.M. Chapel, I remain with some of\nthe lads, the first class of boys, men, and women, every night, and in\naddition, the second class every other night (not on the nights when I\nhave had them from 7 to 8). I used to catechise them at first, starting\nthe subject myself. Now, I rejoice to say, half goes very quickly in\nanswering questions, of which they bring me plenty.\n\nThen, at about 8.50 or 9, I leave them alone in the Chapel (which opens,\nas you know, into my sitting-room), and there they stay till past 10,\ntalking over points among themselves, often two or three coming in to\nme, \"Bishop, we can't quite make out this.\" What do they know and ask?\nWell, take such a subject as the second Psalm, and they will answer you,\nif you ask them, about prophecy and the prophetic state. Test them as to\nthe idea they form of a spiritual vision of something seen, but not with\nthe fleshly eye, and they will say, \"Yes, our minds have that power of\nseeing things. I speak of Mota, it is far off, but as I speak of it, I\nsee my father and my mother and the whole place. My mind has travelled\nto it in an instant. I am there. Yes, I see. So David, so Moses, so St.\nPeter on the housetop, so St. Paul, caught up into the third heaven, so\nwith his mind.\"\n\n'\"But was it like one of our dreams?\"\n\n'\"Yes and No--Yes, because they were hardly like waking-men. No, because\nit was a real true vision which God made them see.\"\n\n'Ask them about the object of prophecy, and they will say, in quaint\nexpression, it is true, what is tantamount to this--it was not only a\nprediction of things to come, but a chief means of keeping before the\nminds of the Jews the knowledge of God's true character as the moral\nGovernor of their nation, and gradually the knowledge was given of His\nbeing the Lord and Ruler of all men. The Prophet was the teacher of the\npresent generation as well as the utterer of truths that, when fulfilled\nin after ages, would teach future ages.\n\n'I mention these fragmentary sentiments, merely to show you how I can\ncarry these fellows into a region where something more than memory must\nbe exercised. The recurrence of the same principles upon which God deals\nwith us is an illustration of what I mean; e.g., the Redemption out of\nEgypt from the Captivity and the Redemption involve the same principle.\nSo the principle of Mediation runs through the Bible, the Prophet,\nPriest, King, &c. Then go into the particular Psalm, ask the meaning of\nthe words, Anointed, Prophet, Priest, King--how our Lord discharged and\ndischarges these offices. What was the decree? The Anointed is His Son.\n\"This day have I begotten Thee\"--the Eternal Generation--the Birth from\nthe grave. His continual Intercession. Take up Psalm cx., the Priest,\nthe Priest for ever, not after the order of Aaron. Go into the Aaronical\nPriesthood. Sacrifices, the idea of sacrifice, the Mosaic ritual, its\nfulfilment; the principle of obedience, as a consequence of Faith,\ncommon to Old and New Testaments, as, indeed, God's Moral Law is\nunchangeable, but the object of faith clearly revealed in the New\nTestament for the first time, &c., &c.\n\n'Christ's Mediatorial reign, His annihilation of all opposition in the\nappointed time, the practical Lesson the Wrath of the Lamb.\n\n'Often you would find that pupils who can be taught these things seem\nand are very ignorant of much simpler things; but they have no knowledge\nof books, as you are aware, and my object is to teach them pretty fully\nthose matters which are really of the greatest importance, while I may\nfill up the intervening spaces some day, if I live. To spend such energy\nas they and I have upon the details of Jewish history, e.g., would be\nunwise. The great lessons must be taught, as, e.g., St. Paul in 1 Cor.\nx. uses Jewish history.\n\n'October 15, I finished my last chapter of St. John's Gospel in the\nMota language; we have also a good many of the Collects and Gospels\ntranslated, and some printed. What is better than to follow the Church's\nselection of passages of Scripture, and then to teach them devotionally\nin connection with the Collects?\n\n'Brooke works away hard at his singing class in the afternoon. We sing\nthe Venite, Magnificat, Nunc dimittis, &c., in parts, to single and\ndouble chants, my old favourite \"Jacob's\" for the Venite, also a fine\nchant of G. Elvey's. They don't sing at all well, but nevertheless,\nthough apt to get flat, and without good voices, there is a certain body\nof sound, and I like it. Brooke plays the harmonium nicely.\n\n'The Norfolk Island people, two or three only, have been here at evening\nservice, and are extremely struck with the reverence of the Melanesians.\n\n'I work away with my Confirmation class, liking them personally, but\nfinding no indication of their having been taught to think in the least.\nIt is a relief to get back to the Melanesians.'\n\nThe visit of the Bishop of New Zealand which had been hoped for, had\nbeen prevented by the invitation to attend the Synod of the Church held\nat Lambeth, in the autumn of 1867, and instead of himself welcoming his\nfriends, Bishop Patteson was picturing them to himself staying with\nhis sisters at Torquay, and joining in the Consecration Services of the\nChurch of All Saints, at Babbicombe, where the altar stood, fragrant\nwith the sandal wood of the Pacific isles. The letters sent off by an\nopportunity in November were to family and friends, both in England. The\none to his sister Joanna narrates one of those incidents that touched\nthe Bishop most deeply:--\n\n'On Friday last we had such a very, very solemn service in our little\nChapel. Walter Hotaswol, from Matlavo Island, is dying--he has long been\ndying, I may say--of consumption. For two winters past he has remained\nwith us rather than in his own island, as he well knew that without\ngood food and care he would sink at once. Years ago he was baptized, and\nafter much time spent in preparation, Tuesday, at 7.30 A.M., was the day\nwhen we met in Chapel. Walter leant back in a chair. The whole service\nwas in the Mota language, and I administered the Holy Communion to\neleven of our Melanesian scholars, and last of all to him. Three others\nI trust I may receive to Holy Communion Sunday next. Is not this a\nblessed thing? I think of it with thankfulness and fear. My old text\ncomes into my mind--\"Your heart shall fear and be enlarged.\" I think\nthere is good hope that I may baptize soon seven or eight catechumens.'\n\nThe letter to Bishop Selwyn despatched by the same vessel on November\n16, gives the first hint of that 'labour traffic' which soon became the\nchief obstacle to the Mission.\n\nAfter describing an interview with an American captain, he\ncontinues:--'Reports are rife of a semi-legalised slave-trading between\nthe South Sea Islands and New Caledonia and the white settlers in\nFiji. I have made a little move in the matter. I wrote to a Wesleyan\nMissionary in Fiji (Ovalau) who sent me some books. I am told that\nGovernment sanctions natives being brought upon agreement to work for\npay, &c., and passage home in two years. We know the impossibility of\nmaking contracts with New Hebrides or Solomon natives. It is a\nmere sham, an evasion of some law, passed, I dare say, without any\ndishonourable intention, to procure colonial labour. If necessary I will\ngo to Fiji or anywhere to obtain information. But I saw a letter in a\nSydney paper which spoke strongly and properly of the necessity of the\nmost stringent rules to prevent the white settlers from injuring the\ncoloured men.'\n\nSo first loomed the cloud that was to become so fatal a darkening of\nthe hopes of the Mission, all the more sad because it was caused by\nChristian men, or men who ought to have been Christian. It will be seen,\nhowever, that Bishop Patteson did not indiscriminately set his face\nagainst all employment of natives. Occupation and training in civilised\ncustoms were the very things he desired for them, but the whole question\nlay in the manner of the thing. However, to him as yet it was but a\nreport, and this Advent and Christmas of 1867 were a very happy time. A\nletter to me describes the crowning joy.\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: Christmas Day, 1867.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--One line to you to-day of Christmas feelings and\nblessings. Indeed, you are daily in my thoughts and prayers. You would\nhave rejoiced could you have seen us last Sunday or this morning at 7\nA.M. Our fourteen Melanesian Communicants so reverent, and (apparently)\nearnest. On Sunday I ordained Mr. Palmer Priest, Mr. Atkin and Mr.\nBrooke Deacons.\n\n'The service was a solemn one, in the Norfolk Island Church, the people\njoining heartily in the first ordination they had seen; Codrington's\nsermon excellent, the singing good and thoroughly congregational,\nand the whole body of confirmed persons remaining to receive the Holy\nCommunion. Our own little Chapel is very well decorated (Codrington\nagain the leader) with fronds of tree-ferns, arums, and lilies;\n\"Emmanuel, God amemina\" (with us), in large letters over the altar.\n\n'And now (9.30P.M.) they are practising Christmas hymns in Mota for our\n11 A.M. service. Then we have a regular feast, and make the day a really\nmemorable one for them. The change from the old to the new state of\nthings, as far as our Banks Islanders are concerned, is indeed most\nthankworthy. I feel that there is great probability of George Sarawia's\nordination before long. This next year he will be left alone (as far as\nwe whites are concerned) at Mota, and I shall be able to judge, I hope,\nof his fitness for carrying on the work there. If it be God's will to\ngive him health of body and the will and power to serve Him, then he\nought to be ordained. He is an excellent fellow, thoughtful, sensible,\nand my right hand among the Melanesians for years. His wife, Sara\nIrotaviro, a nice gentle creature, with now a fine little boy some seven\nmonths old. She is not at all equal to George in intelligence, and is\nmore native in habits, &c. But I think that she will do her best.\n\n'You know I have long felt that there is almost harm done by trying\nto make these islanders like English people. All that is needful for\ndecency and propriety in the arrangement of houses, in dress, &c.,\nwe must get them to adopt, but they are to be Melanesian, not English\nChristians. We are so far removed from them in matters not at\nall necessarily connected with Christianity, that unless we can\ndenationalise ourselves and eliminate all that belongs to us as English,\nand not as Christians, we cannot be to them what a well-instructed\nfellow-countryman may be. He is nearer to them. They understand him. He\nbrings the teaching to them in a practical and intelligible form.\n\n'I hope and pray that dear old George may be the first of such a band\nof fellow-workers. Others--Henry Tagalana, who is, I suppose, about\neighteen, Fisher Pantatun, about twenty-one, Edward Wogale (George's own\nbrother), about sixteen, Robert Pantatun, about eighteen--are excellent,\nall that I could wish; and many younger ones are coming up. They stay\nwith us voluntarily two or three years now without any going home, and\nthe little ones read and write surprisingly well. They come to me very\noften and say, \"Bishop, I wish to stop here again this winter.\"\n\n'They come for help of the best kind. They have their little printed\nprivate prayers, but some are not content with this. Marosgagalo came\nlast week with a slip of paper--\n\n'\"Well, Maros, what is it?\"\n\n'He is a shy little fellow who has been crippled with rheumatism.\n\n'\"Please write me my prayer.\"\n\n'And as my room opens into the Chapel, and they are told to use that at\nall times (their sleeping-rooms not allowing much privacy), I know how\nthey habitually come into it early (at 5 A.M.) and late at night for\ntheir private prayers. You cannot go into the Chapel between 5 and 6.30\nA.M. without seeing two or three kneeling about in different corners. As\nfor their intelligence, I ought to find time to send you a full account\nof them, translations of their answers, papers, &c., but you must be\ncontent to know that I am sure they can reason well upon facts and\nstatements, that they are (the first class) quite able to understand all\nthe simpler theological teaching which you would expect Communicants and\n(I pray) future clergymen to understand. Of some six or seven I can thus\nspeak with great confidence, but I think that the little fellows may\nbe better educated still, for they are with us before they have so much\nlee-way to make up--jolly little fellows, bright and sharp. The whole\nof the third Banks Island class (eight of them) have been with me for\neighteen months, and they have all volunteered to stay for eighteen\nmonths more. They ought to know a great deal at the end of that time,\nthen they will go home almost to a certainty only for two or three\nmonths, and come back again for another long spell.\n\n'All this is hopeful, and we have much to be thankful for indeed; but I\nsee no immediate prospect of anything like this in the other islands at\npresent. We know very many of the islanders and more or less of their\nlanguages; we have scholars who read and write, and stop here with us,\nand who are learning a good deal individually, but I have as yet no\nsense of any hold gained upon the people generally. We are good friends,\nthey like us, trust young people with us, but they don't understand our\nobject in coming among them properly. The trade and the excitement of\nour visit has a good deal to do with their willingness to receive us and\nto give us children and young men. They behave very well when here, and\ntheir people treat us well when we are with them. But as yet I see no\nreligious feeling, no apprehension of the reality of the teaching: they\nknow in one sense, and they answer questions about the meaning of the\nCreed, &c., but they would soon fall again into heathen ways, and their\npeople show no disposition to abandon heathen ways. In all this there is\nnothing to surprise or discourage us. It must be slow work, carried on\nwithout observation amidst many failures and losses and disappointments.\nIf I wished to attribute to secondary causes any of the results we\nnotice, I might say that our having lived at Mota two or three months\neach year has had a great deal to do with the difference between the\nBanks and the other islanders.\n\n'It may be that, could we manage to live in Bauro, or Anudha, or Mahaga,\nor Whitsuntide, or Lepers' Island, or Espiritu Santo, we might see\nsoon some such change take place as we notice in Mota; but all that is\nuncertain, and such thoughts are useless. We must indeed live in those\nother islands as soon as we can, but it is hard to find men able to do\nso, and only a few of the islands are ripe for the attempt.\n\n'I feel often like a horse going his regular rounds, almost\nmechanically. Every part of the day is occupied, and I am too tired\nat night to think freshly. So that I am often like one in a dream,\nand scarcely realise what I am about. Then comes a time when I wish to\nwrite, e.g. (as to you now) about the Mission, and it seems so hard to\nmyself to see my way, and so impossible to make others see what is in\nmy mind about it. Sometimes I think these Banks Islanders may be\nevangelists beyond the limits of their own islands. So many of the\nnatives of other islands live here with them, and speak the language of\nMota, and then they have so much more in common with them than with us,\nand the climate and food and mode of life generally are familiar to them\nalike. I think this may come to pass some day; I feel almost sure that\nI had better work on with promising islanders than attempt to train up\nEnglish boys, of which I once thought. I am more and more confirmed\nin my belief that what one wants is a few right-minded, well-educated\nEnglish clergymen, and then for all the rest trust to native agency.\n\n'When I think of Mr. Robertson and such men, and think how they work\non, it encourages me. And so, where do I hear of men who have so many\ncomforts, so great immunity from hardship and danger as we enjoy? This\nis nothing to the case of a London parish.\n\n'Fanny has sent me out my old engravings, which I like to look at once\nmore, although there is only one really good one among them, and yet\nI don't like to think of her no longer having them. I have also a nice\nselection of photographs just sent out, among which the cartoons from\nHampton Court are especially good. That grand figure of St. Paul at\nAthens, which Raphael copied from Masaccio's fresco, always was a\nfavourite of mine.\n\n'I feel at home here, more so than in any place since I left England;\nbut I hope that I may be able to spend longer intervals in the islands\nthan the mere sixteen or eighteen weeks of the voyage, if I have still\nmy health and strength. But I think sometimes that I can't last always;\nI unconsciously leave off doing things, and wake up to find that I am\nshirking work.\n\n'Holy Innocents' Day.--I don't think I have sufficiently considered your\nfeelings in suffering the change of name in the Mission School that\ntook place, and I am rather troubled about it. I came back from the last\nvoyage to find that as I had selected a site for the buildings on St.\nBarnabas Day, which was, by a coincidence, the day I spent here on my\noutward voyage in 1866, the people had all named the place St.\nBarnabas. Then came the thought of the meetings on St. Barnabas, and\nthe appropriateness of the Missionary Apostle's name, and I, without\nthinking enough about it, acquiesced in the change of name. I should\nhave consulted you,--not that you will feel yourself injured, I well\nknow; but for all that, I ought to have done it. It was the more due\nto you, because you won't claim any right to be consulted. I am really\nsorry for it, and somewhat troubled in mind. (Footnote: 'He need not\nhave been sorry. I give this to show his kind, scrupulous consideration;\nbut I, like everyone else, could not help feeling that it was more\nfitting that the germ of a missionary theological college should not\nbear a name even in allusion to a work of fiction.)\n\n'The occasional notices of Mr. and Mrs. Keble in your letters, and the\nfull account of him and her as their end drew nigh, is very touching.\nHow much, how very much there is that I should like to ask him now! How\nI could sit at his feet and listen to him! These are great subjects that\nI have neither time nor brains to deal with, and there is no one\nhere who can give me all the help I want. I think a good deal about\nRitualism, more about Union, most about the Eucharistic question; but\nI need some one with whom to talk out these matters. When I have\nworked out the mind of Hooker, Bull, Waterland, &c., and read Freeman's\n\"Principles,\" and Pusey's books, and Mr. Keble's, &c., then I want\nto think it out with the aid of a really well-read man. It is clearly\nbetter not to view such holy subjects in connection with controversy;\nbut then comes the thought--\"How is Christendom to be united when this\ndiversity exists on so great a point?\" And then one must know what the\ndiversity really amounts to, and then the study becomes a very laborious\nand intricate enquiry into the ecclesiastical literature of centuries.\nCuriously enough, I am still waiting for the book I so much want, Mr.\nKeble's book on \"Eucharistic Adoration.\" I had a copy, of course, but I\nlent it to some one. I lose a good many books in that way.\n\n'The extraordinary change in the last thirty years will of course mark\nthis time hereafter as one of the most noticeable periods in the history\nof the Church, indeed one can't fail to see it, which is not always\nthe case with persons living in the time of great events. The bold,\noutspoken conduct of earnest men, the searching deeply into principles,\nthe comparative rejection of conventionalities, local prejudices,\nexclusive forms of thought and practice, must strike everyone. But\none misses the guiding, restraining hand...the man in the Church\ncorresponding to \"the Duke\" at one time in the State, the authority.\n\n'One thing I do think, that the being conversant only with thoughtful\neducated Christians may result in a person ignoring the simpler idea of\nthe Eucharist which does not in the least divest it of its mysterious\ncharacter, but rather, recognising the mystery, seeks for no solution of\nit. How can I teach my fifteen Melanesian Communicants the points which\nI suppose an advanced Ritualist would regard as most essential? But I\ncan give them the actual words of some of the ancient, really ancient,\nLiturgies, and teach them what Christ said, and St. Paul said, and the\nChurch of England says, and bid them acquiesce in the mystery.\n\n'Yet I would fain know more. I quite long for a talk with Mr. Keble.\nPredisposed on every account to think that he must be right, I am not\nsure that I know what he held to be the truth, nor am I quite sure that\nI would see it without much explanation; but to these holy men so much\nis revealed that one has no right to expect to know. What he held was in\nhim at all events combined with all that a man may have of humility, and\nlearning, and eagerness for union with God.'\n\n\nThis letter was sent with these:--\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: December 16, 1867.\n\n'My dear Mr. Atkin,--The \"Pacific\" arrived on Friday after a quick\npassage. All our things came safely. She leaves to-morrow for Sydney,\nand we are in a great hurry. For (1) we have three mails all at once,\nand I have my full share of letters, public and private; and (2) we have\nhad last week our first fall of rain for some three and a half months,\nand we are doing our best to plant kumaras, &c., which grow here\nwonderfully, if only they get anything like a fair chance.\n\n'Joe as usual is foremost at all work; fencing, well-sinking, &c. And\nhe proves the truth of the old saying, that \"the head does not suffer by\nthe work of the hand.\" His knowledge of Scripture truth, of what I\nmay fairly call the beginning of theological studies, gives me great\ncomfort. I am quite sure that in all essentials, in all which by God's\nblessing tends to qualify a man for teaching faithfully, and with\nsufficient learning and knowledge of the Word of God, he is above the\naverage of candidates for ordination in England.\n\n'I don't say that he would pass the kind of examination before an\nEnglish Bishop so well as a great many--they insist a good deal on\ntechnical points of historical knowledge, &c.--but in all things really\nessential--in his clear perception of the unity of the teaching of the\nBible; in his knowledge of the Greek Testament, in his reading with me\nthe Articles, Prayer Book, &c., I am convinced that he is well fitted\nto do his work well and truly. We have had more than one talk on deeper\nmatters still, on inward feelings and thoughts, on prayer and the\ndevotional study of God's Word, and divinity in general. I feel\nthe greatest possible thankfulness and happiness as I think of his\nordination, and of what, by the grace of God, he may become to very many\nboth heathens and Christians, if his life be spared.\n\n'Once again, my dear friends, I thank you for giving him to this work.\nHe is the greatest conceivable comfort and help to me. I always feel\nwhen he is walking or working with others, that there is one on whose\nsteadiness and strong sense of duty I can always rely. May God bless him\nwith His richest blessings....\n\n'On Sunday next (D.V.) we shall not forget you, as I well know your\nthoughts and prayers will be with us; and we sing \"Before JEHOVAH'S\nawful Throne\" to the Old Hundredth; 2nd, No. 144 of the Hymnal, after\nthird Collect; and before sermon, 3rd, No. 143; after sermon, 4th, No.\n19; after Litany, 5th, Veni Creator to All Saints.\n\nThe ordination will be in the Norfolk Island Church.--My kind regards to\nMrs. Atkin and Mary.\n\n'Always, my dear friend, very truly yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\n'December 16, 1867.\n\n'My dear Miss Mackenzie,--Your brother's pedometer reached me safely\nthree days ago. I feel most truly unworthy to receive such gifts. I have\nnow his sextant, his pedometer, and, most precious of all, his \"Thomas\na Kempis\"; they ought to help me to think more of him, and his holy\nexample. Your letter commenting on the published life makes me know\nhim pretty well. He was one to love and honour; indeed, the thorough\nhumility and truthfulness, the single-mindedness of the man, the simple\nsense of duty and unwearied patience, energy, and gentleness--indeed\nyou must love to dwell on the memory of such a brother, and look forward\nwith hope and joy to the reunion.\n\n'We are fast settling ourselves into our headquarters here. Our\nbuildings already sufficient to house eighty or one hundred Melanesians.\nWe are fencing, planting, &c., &c., vigorously, and the soil here repays\nour labours well. The yam and sweet potatoes grow excellently, and\nthe banana, orange, lemon, and nearly all semi-tropical fruits and\nvegetables. I think that our commissariat expenditure will soon be very\nsmall, and we ought to have an export before long.\n\n'Two things seem to be pretty clear: that there is no lack of capacity\nin the Melanesian, and no probability of any large supply of English\nteachers and clergymen, even if it were desirable to work the Mission\nwith foreign rather than native clergymen. My own mind is, and has long\nbeen in favour of the native pastorate; but it needs much time to work\nup to such a result.\n\n'All our party are well in health, save one good fellow, Walter\nHotaswol, who is dying of consumption, in faith and hope. \"Better,\" he\nsays, \"to die here with a bright heart than to live in my own land with\na dark one.\" It is a solemn Ember week for us.\n\n'I remain, dear Miss Mackenzie, very truly yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.\n\n'I quite agree with you that you cannot educate tropical and\nsemi-tropical people in England; and you don't want to make them English\nChristians, you know.'\n\n\nWalter's history is here completed:--\n\n\n'January 22, 1868.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--I write you a line: I have not time for more in\naddition to my other epistle, to tell you that I purpose to baptize,\non Sunday next, eight Melanesian youths and one girl. You will, I\nknow, thank God for this. Indeed I hope (though I say it with a kind\nof trembling and wonder) that a succession of scholars is now regularly\nestablished from the Banks Islands.\n\n'These nine are being closely followed by some ten or twelve more,\nyounger than they, averaging from seven to eleven years, who all read\nand write and know the elements of Christian teaching, but you should\nsee them, bright merry little fellows, and the girls too, full of\nplay and fun. Yet so docile, and obedient, and good-tempered. They all\nvolunteer to stay here again this winter, though they have not been\nat home since they first left it, in July and August 1866. They have a\ngeneration of Christians--I mean one of our generations--some two dozen\nor more, to help them; they have not the brunt of the battle to bear,\nlike dear George and Henry and others; and because, either here or\nthere, they will be living with Christians; I need not, I think, subject\nthem to a probation. Next year (D.V.) they may be baptized, and so the\nranks are being filled up.\n\n'I would call the girl Charlotte were she a favourite of mine, but I\nwait in hopes that a nicer girl (though this one is good and nice too)\nmay be baptized by your and Mrs. Keble's name. You may well believe that\nmy heart and mind are very full of this. May God grant that they may\ncontinue His for ever!\n\n'I confirm on the same day fourteen Norfolk Islanders.\n\n'Walter Hotaswol, from Matlavo, the southern part of Saddle Island, died\non the evening of the Epiphany: a true Epiphany to him, I trust. He\nwas remarkably gentle and innocent for one born in a heathen land. His\nconfession, very fully made to me before his first Communion, was very\ntouching, simply given, and, thank God, he had been wonderfully kept\nfrom the sins of heathenism. With us, his life for years was blameless.\nHe died almost without pain, after many weeks of lingering in\nconsumption, I verily believe in full faith in his Saviour and his God.\n\n'During his last illness, and for a short time before he actually\ntook to his bed, he frequently received the Holy Communion. And very\nremarkable were his words to me the day after his first Communion. I was\nsitting by him, when he said, apropos of nothing, \"Very good!\"\n\n'\"What is very good, Walter?\"\n\n'\"The Lord's Supper.\"\n\n'\"Why do you think so?\"\n\n'\"I can't talk about it. I feel it here (touching his heart), I don't\nfeel as I did!\"\n\n'\"But you have long believed in Him.\"\n\n'\"Yes, but I feel different from that; I don't feel afraid for death. My\nheart is calm (me masur kal, of a calm following a gale).\" His look\nwas very earnest as he added: \"I do believe that I am going to Him.\"\nPresently, \"Bishop!\"\n\n'\"Well.\"\n\n'\"Last night--no, the night before I received the Lord's Supper, I saw a\nman standing there, a tanum liana (a man of rank, or authority). He said\nYour breath is bad, I will give you a new breath.'\"\n\n'\"Yes.\"\n\n'\"I thought it meant, I will give you a new life. I thought it must be\nJESUS.\"\n\n'He was weak, but not wandering. \"Yes, better to die here with a bright\nheart than to live in my old home with a dark one.\"\n\n'January 28th.--The nine young Christians were baptized on Sunday\nevening; a very touching and solemn service it was, very full of\ncomfort. It may be that now, in full swing of work, I am too sanguine,\nbut I try to be sober-minded, thankful, and hopeful. I try, I say--it is\nnot easy.\n\n'God bless you, my dear Cousin, and as I pray for you, so I know you\npray for us.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nA long letter to James Patteson, which was begun a few days later, goes\ninto the man's retrospect of the boy's career:--\n\n\n'March 3rd.--I think often of your boys. Jack, in two or three years,\nwill be old enough for school, and I suppose it must make you anxious\nsometimes. I look back on my early days, and see so much, so very much\nto regret and grieve over, such loss of opportunities, idleness, &c.,\nthat I think much of the way to make lessons attractive to boys and\ngirls. I think a good deal may be done simply by the lessons being given\nby the persons the children love most, and hence (where it can be done)\nthe mother first, and the father too (if he can) are the best people.\nThey know the ways of the child, they can take it at the right times. Of\ncourse, at first it is the memory, not the reasoning power, that must be\nbrought into exercise. Young children must learn by heart, learn miles\nwhich they can't understand, or understand but very imperfectly. I think\nI forget this sometimes, and talk to my young Melanesians as I should to\nolder persons. But I feel almost sure that children can follow a simple,\nlively account of the meaning and reasons of things much more than one\nis apt to fancy. And I don't know how anything can be really learnt\nthat is not understood. A great secret of success here is an easy and\naccurate use of illustration--parabolic teaching.\n\n'Every day of my life I groan over the sad loss I daily experience in\nnot having been grounded properly in Latin and Greek. I have gone on\nwith my education in these things more than many persons, but I can\nnever be a good scholar; I don't know what I would not give to have been\nwell taught as a boy. And then at Eton, any little taste one might have\nhad for languages, &c., was never called out.\n\nMy fault again, but I can't help thinking that it was partly because\nthe reason of a rule was never explained. Who ever taught in school the\ndifference between an aorist and a perfect, e.g.? And at college I was\nnever taught it, because it was assumed that I knew it. I know that\nat ten, fifteen, or twenty, I should not in any case have gone into\nlanguages as I do now. But I might have learnt a good deal, I think.\nA thoroughly good preparatory school is, I dare say, very difficult to\nfind. I would make a great point, I think, to send a boy to a good\none; not to cram him or make a prig of him, but simply to give him the\nadvantage which will make his whole career in life different from what\nit will be if his opening days pass by unimproved. Cool of me, Jem, to\nwrite all this; but I think of this boy, and my boyish days, and what I\nmight have been, and am not.\n\n'I was always shallow, learned things imperfectly, thought I knew a\nthing when I knew scarce any part of it, scrawling off common-place\nverses at Eton, and, unfortunately, getting sent up for them. I had a\ncharacter which passed at school and at home for that of a fair scholar.\nThence came my disgrace at being turned out of the select, my bad\nexamination for the Balliol scholarship, my taking only a second, &c.\nNothing was really known! Pretty quick in seizing upon a superficial\nview of a matter, I had little patience or determination to thoroughly\nmaster it. The fault follows me through life. I shall never, I fear, be\nreally accurate and able to think out a matter fully. The same fault I\nsee in my inner life. But it is not right to talk perhaps too much of\nthat, only I know that I get credit for much that I don't do, and\nfor qualities which I don't possess. This is simple truth, not false\nhumility. Some gifts I have, which, I thank God, I have been now taught\nto employ with more or less of poverty in the service.'\n\n\nThe vessel that took away the above despatches brought the tidings of\nNew Zealand's beloved Primate being appointed to the See of Lichfield.\nIt was another great wrench to the affectionate heart, as will be seen\nin this filial reply to the intelligence:--\n\n\n'2nd Sunday in Lent, 10 P.M.\n\n'My dear, dear Bishop,--I don't think I ever quite felt till now what\nyou have been to me for many a long year. Indeed, I do thank God that I\nhave been taught to know and dearly love you; and much I reproach myself\n(not now for the first time) that I have been wilful, and pained you\nmuch sometimes by choosing for myself when I ought to have followed your\nchoice. I could say much, but I can't say it now, and you don't desire\nit. You know what I think and feel. Your letter of the 3rd reached me\nlast night. I don't yet realise what it is to me, but I think much more\nstill of those dear people at Taurarua. It is perfectly clear to my\nmind that you could not have acted otherwise. I don't grudge you to the\nMother Church one atom!\n\n'I write at this time because I think you may possibly be soon beginning\nyour first Ordination Service in your Cathedral. It was almost my first\nthought when I began to think quietly after our 8 P.M. prayers. And I\npray for those whom you may be leading to their work, as so often you\nhave laid your hands on me. I understand Bishop Andrewes' [Greek text]\nnow.\n\n'What it must have been to you and still is!...\n\n'This move to Norfolk Island does make a great difference, no doubt. And\nfull well I know that your prayers will be around us; and that you will\ndo all that mortal man can do for us and for the islands. Indeed, you\nmust not trouble yourself about me too much. I shall often need you,\noften sadly miss you, a just return for having undervalued the blessing\nof your presence. But I do feel that it is right. I humbly pray and\ntrust that God's blessing may be on us all, and that a portion of your\nspirit may be with us.\n\n'More than ever affectionately yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe tidings had come simultaneously with the history of the Consecration\nof All Saints, Babbicombe, for indeed the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn were\nstaying with Joanna and Fanny Patteson for the Octave Services when\nthe first offer arrived. So that the two mails whose contents were\ntransported together to Norfolk Island contained matter almost\noverwhelming for the brother and friend, and he had only one day in\nwhich to write his answers. To the sisters the assurance is, 'Only be\nquite comforted about me!' and then again, 'No, I don't grudge him one\nbit. There is no room for small personal considerations when these great\nissues are at stake.'\n\n'I don't think I quite know yet what it is to me. I can't look at his\nphotograph with quite dry eyes yet. But I don't feel at all sad or\nunhappy. You know the separation, if God, in His mercy, spare me at\nlast, can't be long; and his prayers are always around us, and he is\nwith us in spirit continually, and then it will be such joy and delight\nto me to watch his work.\n\n'I think with such thankfulness of the last Holy Week; the last Easter\nSunday spent wholly with him. I think too, and that sadly enough, of\nhaving pained him sometimes by being self-willed, and doing just what he\nhas not done, viz., chosen for myself when I ought to have followed him.\n\n'Do you remember when, on the morning of Mamma's death, we came into the\nstudy where Uncle and Aunt Frank were, and our dear Father in his great\nfaith and resignation said, with broken voice, \"I thank God, who spared\nher to me so long\"? Surely I may with far greater ease say, \"I thank God\nfor the blessing for now thirteen, years of his example and loving care\nof me.\" Had he been taken away by death we must have borne it, and we\ncan bear this now by His grace.'\n\nThe thought engrossed him most completely. It is plain in all his\nletters that it was quite an effort to turn his mind to anything but the\napproaching change. His Primate had truly been a 'Father in God' to him.\nHis affections had wound themselves about him and Mrs. Selwyn, and the\nsociety that they formed together with Sir William and Lady Martin had\nbecome the next thing to his home and family. Above all, the loneliness\nof sole responsibility was not complete while the Primate was near to\nbe consulted. There had been an almost visible loss of youth and\nplayfulness ever since the voyages had been made without the leader\noften literally at the helm; and though Bishop Patteson had followed his\nown judgment in two decided points--the removal to Norfolk Island, and\nthe use of Mota language instead of English, and did not repent having\ndone so, yet still the being left with none to whom to look up as an\nauthority was a heavy trial and strain on mind and body, and brought on\nanother stage in that premature age that the climate and constant toil\nwere bringing upon him when most men are still in the fulness of their\nstrength.\n\nThe next letter spoke the trouble that was to mark the early part of the\nyear 1868 as one of sickness and sorrow.\n\n\n'Our two Ambrym boys are coming out; and I am hopeful as to some more\ndecided connection with the north face of the Island. Mahaga lads\nvery promising, but at present Banks Islanders much ahead of the rest.\nIndeed, of some of them, I may say that while they have no knowledge of\nmany things that an English lad ought to know, yet they have a very fair\nshare of intelligence concentrated on the most important subject, and\nknow a good deal about it. They think.'\n\nThen follows a working out of one of the difficult questions that always\nbeset missionaries respecting the heathen notions--or no notions--about\nwedlock. Speaking of the persons concerned, the journal continues:--\n\n'They were not able to understand--and how can a man and woman, or\nrather a girl and boy, understand--what we understand by marriage.\nThey always saw men and women exchanging husbands and wives when they\npleased, and grew up in the midst of such ideas and practices, so that\nthere never was a regular contract, nor a regularly well-conceived and\nclearly-understood notion of living together till \"death us do part\" in\ntheir minds. You will say, \"And yet they were baptized.\" Yes, but I did\nnot know so much about heathen ways then, and, besides, read St. Paul\nto the Corinthians, and see how the idea of sanctity of marriage, and\nof chastity in general is about the last idea that the heathen mind\ncomprehends. Long after the heathen know that to break the sixth,\neighth, even the ninth and tenth Commandments is wrong, and can\nunderstand and practically recognise it to be so, the seventh is a\npuzzle to them. At the best they only believe it because we say that it\nis a Commandment of God. Look at the Canons of the early Church on the\nquestion; look how Luther sanctioned the polygamy, the double marriage,\nof the Landgrave of Hesse! So that although now, thank God, our scholars\nunderstand more of what is meant by living with a woman, and the\nrelation of husband and wife is not altogether strange to them, yet\nit was not so at first, and is not likely to be so with any but our\nwell-trained scholars for a long time.'\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: March 26, 1868. 'My dearest Sisters,--How you are\nthinking of me this anniversary? Thirteen years since I saw your dear\nfaces and his face. Oh! how thankful I am that it is so long ago. It\nwas very hard to bear for a long long time. Last night as I lay awake\nI thought of that last Sunday, the words I said in church (how absurdly\nconsequential they seem to me now), the walk home, calling to see C. L.,\nparting with the Vicar and M., the last evening--hearts too full to say\nwhat was in them, the sitting up at night and writing notes. And then\nblack Monday! Well, I look back now and see that it was very hard at\nfirst, and I don't deny that I found the mere bodily roughnesses very\ntrying at first, but that has long past. My present mode of life is\nagreeable to me altogether now. Servants and company would be a very\ngreat bore indeed. So even in smaller ways, you see, I have all that I\ncan desire. I always try to remember that I may miss these things, and\nspecially miss you if it should please God to send any heavy sickness\nupon me. I dare say I should be very impatient, and need kind soothing\nnurses. But I must hope for the best.\n\n'Just now we have some anxiety. There has been and is a bad typhoid\nfever among the Pitcairners: want of cleanliness, no sewerage, or very\nbad draining, crowded rooms, no ventilation, the large drain choked up,\na dry season, so that the swampy ground near the settlement has been\ndry, these are secondary causes. For two months it has been going on. I\nnever anticipated such a disease here.\n\n'But the fever is bad. Last night two died, both young women of about\ntwenty. Two, one a married man of thirty, with five children, the other\na girl of twelve, had died before. I have been backwards and forwards,\nbut no one else of the party. The poor people like to see me. For three\nweeks I have felt some anxiety about four or five of our lads, and they\nhave been with me in my room. I don't like the symptoms of one or two of\nthem. But it is not yet a clear case of the fever.'\n\n\n'Easter Eve.--Dear Sisters, once more I write out of a sick hospital.\nThis typhoid fever, strongly marked, as described in Dr. Watson's books,\nGraye's edition of Hooper's \"Vade Mecum,\" and, as a very solemn lesson\nof Lent and Holy Week, seven Pitcairners have died. For many weeks the\ndisease did not touch us; we established a regular quarantine, and used\nall precautions. We had, I think, none of the predisposing causes of\nfever at our place. It is high, well-drained, clean, no dirt near,\nexcellent water, and an abundant supply of it; but I suppose the whole\nair is impregnated with it. Anyhow, the fever is here.\n\n'April 23rd.--My house consists, you know, of Chapel, my rooms, and\nhospital. This is the abode of the sick and suspected. The hospital is\na large, lofty, well-ventilated room; a partition, 6 feet high, only\ndivides it into two; on one side are the sick, on the other side sleep\nthose who are sickening.\n\n'As yet twenty have been in my quarters. Of these seven are now in\nCodrington's house, half-way between hospital and ordinary school life.\nThey are convalescents, real convalescents. You know how much so-called\nconvalescents need care in recovering from fever, but these seven have\nhad the fever very slightly indeed, thank God; the type of the disease\nis much less severe than it was at first. One lad of about sixteen, Hofe\nfrom Ysabel Island, died last Friday morning. The fever came on him with\npower from the first. He was very delirious for some days, restless,\nsleepless, then comatose. The symptoms are so very clearly marked, and\nmy books are so clear in detail of treatment, that we don't feel much\ndifficulty now about the treatment, and the nursery and hospital work we\nare pretty well used to.\n\n'Barasu, from Ysabel Island, who was near dying on Thursday week, a\nfortnight ago to-day, has hovered between life and death. I baptized him\nat 9 P.M. on Holy Thursday (the anniversary of Mr. Keble's death). John\nKeble: rather presumptuous to give such a name, but I thought he would\nnot have been named here by it for many hours. He is now sitting by the\nhospital fire. I have just fed him with some rice and milk; and he is\nwell enough to ask for a bit of sweet potato, which he cannot yet hold,\nnor guide his hand to his mouth. He has had the regular fever, and is\nnow, thank God, becoming convalescent. No other patient is at present\nin a dangerous state; all have the fever signs more or less doubtful. No\none is at present in a precarious state. It has been very severe in\nthe town, and there are many cases yet. Partly it is owing to the utter\nignorance or neglect of the most ordinary rules of caution and nursing.\nChildren and men and women all lie on the ground together in the fever\nor out of it. The contagion fastens upon one after another. In Isaac\nChristian's house, the mother and five children were all at one time in\na dangerous state, wandering, delirious, comatose. Yet the mortality has\nbeen small. Only seven have died; some few are still very ill, yet the\ncharacter of the fever is less severe now. We had some sharp hospital\nwork for a few days and nights, all the accompaniments of the decay of\nour frail bodies. Now we have a respite. Codrington, Palmer, and I take\nthe nursing; better that the younger ones, always more liable to take\nfever, should be kept out of contagion; to no one but I have gone among\nthe sick in town, or to town at all. We are all quite well.\n\n'Beef tea, chicken broth, mutton broth, wine, brandy, milk to any\nextent, rice, &c.--Palmer manufactures all. The Pitcairners, most\nimprovident people, are short of all necessary stores. I give what I\ncan, but I must be stingy, as I tell them, for I never anticipated an\nattack of typhus here. They will, I trust, learn a lesson from it, and\nnot provoke a recurrence of it by going on in their old ways.\n\n'I don't deny that at times I have been a good deal depressed: about\nHoly Week and Easter Week was the worst time. Things are much brighter\nnow; though I fully expect that several others, perhaps many others,\nwill yet have the attack, but I trust and fancy it may be only in a\nmodified form. We have regular Chapel and school, but the school is a\nmild affair now; I who am only in bed from 12.30 or 1 to 5, and in the\nhospital all day, cannot be very bright in school. I just open a little\nbit of my red baize door into Chapel, so that the sick in my room join\nin the service. Nice, is it not?\n\n'This will greatly unsettle plans for the voyage. The \"Southern Cross\"\nis expected here about May 10; but I can't leave any sick that may want\nmy care then, and I can't take back to the islands any that are only\njust convalescent, or indeed any of the apparently healthy who may yet\nhave the seeds of the fever in them. It would be fearful if it broke out\non the islands. I must run no risk of that; so I think that very likely\nI may keep the whole party here another year, and make myself a short\nvisitation. I suppose that the Bishop will come to New Zealand, and I\nmust try to meet him; I should like to see his face once more; but if\nhe doesn't come, or if I can't (by reason of this sickness) go to meet\nhim--well, I shall be spared the parting if I don't have the joy of the\nmeeting, and these things are not now what they once were.\n\n'April 28th.--Barasu (John Keble) died this morning as I read the\nCommendatory Prayer by his side. He had a relapse some five days ago,\nhow we cannot say, he was always watched day and night. I had much\ncomfort in him, he was a dear lad, and our most hopeful Ysabel scholar.\nHis peaceful death, for it was very peaceful at the last, may work\nmore than his life would have done; some twenty others convalescent, or\nailing, or sick. At this moment another comes to say that he feels out\nof sorts; you know that sensation, and how one's heart seems to stop for\na minute, and then one tries to look and speak cheerfully.\n\n'April 29th.--I read the Service over another child to-day, son of James\nand Priscilla Quintall, the second child they have lost within a few\ndays, and Priscilla herself is lying ill of the fever. Poor people, I\ndid what little I could to comfort them; the poor fellow is laid up\ntoo with a bad foot; a great many others are very ill, some young ones\nespecially.\n\n'May 5th.--Jemima Young sent for me yesterday morning. I was with her\nthe day before, and she was very ill. I reached the room at 11.45, and\nshe died at noon. [Jemima Young had been particularly bright, pleasant,\nand helpful when Mrs. Selwyn was on the island].\n\n'May 7th.--The sick ones doing pretty well. You must not think it is all\ngloom, far from it, there is much to cheer and comfort us. The hearty\nco-operation of these excellent fellow-workers is such a support, and is\nbrought out at such times.\n\n'We are going on with divers works, but not very vigorously just now. We\nare sawing the timber for our large hall: the building still to be put\nup, and then our arrangements will be complete for the present.\n\n'Then our fencing goes on. We have one large field of some ninety or one\nhundred acres enclosed, the sea and a stream bounding two sides, and two\nother fields of about forty and twenty acres. I have good cart mares and\none cart horse, a riding mare which I bought of Mr. Pritt, and Atkin has\none also, eleven cows, and as many calves, poultry (sadly destroyed\nby wild cats) and pigs, and two breeding sows, and a flock of fifty\nwell-bred sheep imported. These cost me \u00a34. 10s. a head; I hope they\nare the progenitors of a fine flock. The ram cost \u00a312. We have plenty\nof work, and must go on fencing and subdividing our fields. Most of\nthe land is wooded; but a considerable quantity can easily be cleared.\nIndeed 200 or 300 acres are clear now of all but some smaller stuff\nthat can easily be removed. A thick couch-grass covers all. It is not\nso nutritious as the ordinary English grasses; but cattle, sheep, and\nhorses like it, only a larger quantity is needed by each animal. It\ngives trouble when one wants to break it up, it is such a network of\nroots; but once out of the ground and the soil clear, and it will grow\nanything. Our crops of sweet potatoes are excellent. The ordinary potato\ndoes very well too; and maize, vegetables of all sorts, many fruit\ntrees, all the semi-tropical things, capitally; guavas by the thousand,\nand very soon I hope oranges; lemons now by thousands, melons almost a\nweed, bananas abundant; by-and-by coffee, sugar-cane, pineapples (these\nlast but small), arrowroot of excellent quality. Violets from my\nbed, and mignonette from Palmer's, scent my room at this minute. The\ngardeners, Codrington, Palmer, and Atkin, are so kind in making me\ntidy, devising little arrangements for my little plot of ground, and my\ncomfort and pleasure generally. Well, that is a nice little chat with\nyou. Now it is past 8 P.M., and the mutton broth for Clement and Mary is\ncome. I must feed my chicks. Excellent patients they are, as good as can\nbe. They don't make the fuss that I did in my low fever when I was so\nsavage with your doves that would go on cooing at my window, don't you\nremember?\n\n'My dear Bishop will be touched by the confidence in him shown by\nhis late Diocesan Synod in entrusting to him the nomination of his\nsuccessor. It was clearly the right thing to do. As for me, no one who\nknows anything about it or me would dream of removing me from Melanesia,\nas long as I have health and strength, and still less of putting me into\nanother diocese. When I break down, or give up, it will not be to hold\nany other office, as I think.\n\n'May 8th.--All going on pretty well, thank God. Mary is weak, but I\nthink better; did not wander last night. Clement, with strong typhoid\nsymptoms, yet, at all events, not worse. But he is a very powerful,\nthickset fellow, not a good subject for fever. I feel that I am\nbeginning to recover my interest in things in general, books, &c. For\ntwo months I was entirely occupied with hospital work, and with visiting\ndaily the sick Pitcairners, and I was weary and somewhat worn out. Now I\nam better in mind and body; some spring in me again. This may be to\nfit me for more trials in store; but I think that the sunshine has come\nagain.'\n\nThere were, however, two more deaths--the twins of Mwerlau. Clement died\non the 24th of May; the other brother, Richard, followed him a fortnight\nlater. They were about seventeen, strong and thick-set; Clement had made\nconsiderable progress during his two years of training, and had been\na Communicant since Christmas. Before passing to the other topics with\nwhich, as the Bishop said, he could again be occupied, here is Mr.\nCodrington's account of this period of trouble:--\n\n'A great break in the first year was caused by the visitation of typhus\nfever in the earlier part of 1868. This disease, brought as I always\nbelieved by infection from a vessel that touched here, first attacked a\nNorfolk Islander who did not live in the town. He was ill in the middle\nof February, others of the Pitcairn people soon after. The Bishop began\nat once to visit the sick very diligently, and continued to visit them\nthroughout, though after a time our own hospital was full. Our first\ncase was on the llth of March, and our last convalescents did not go out\nuntil near the end of June. For some time there was hard work to be\ndone with nursing the sick. The Bishop had the anxiety and the charge\nof medically treating the sick. Mr. Nobbs, as always, was most kind in\ngiving the benefit of his experience, but he was too fully occupied with\nthe care of his own flock to be able to help us much. It was agreed, as\nsoon as we saw the disease was among us, that the three elder members of\nthe Mission should alone come into communication with the sick. We kept\nwatch in turns, but the Bishop insisted on taking a double share, i.e.,\nhe allowed us only to take regular watches in the night, undertaking the\nwhole of the day's work, except during the afternoon when he was away\nwith the Pitcairn people. He seemed quite at home in the hospital,\nalmost always cheerful, always very tender, and generally very decided\nas to what was to be done. He was fond of doctoring, read a good deal of\nmedical books, and knew a good deal of medical practice; but the weight\nof such a responsibility as belonged to the charge of many patients in a\nfever of this kind was certainly heavy upon him. The daily visit to the\nPitcairn people on foot or on horseback was no doubt a relief, though\nhard work in itself. Of the four lads we lost, two, twins, had been some\ntime christened, one was baptized before his death, the first who died\nhad not been long with the Mission. It is characteristic of Bishop\nPatteson that I never heard him say a word that I remember of religion\nto one of the sick. On such things he would not, unless he was obliged,\nspeak except with the patient alone.\n\n'Before the sickness was quite over, the \"Southern Cross\" arrived for\nthe winter voyage. The danger of carrying infection to the islands could\nnot be incurred, and the vessel was sent back to Auckland for a time.'\n\nThe letters she carried back refer again to the growing anxiety about\nthe 'labour traffic.'\n\n'May 6th.--I am corresponding with a Wesleyan Missionary in Ovalau\n(Fiji) on a matter that you may see mentioned some day in the papers, a\nvery questionable practice of importing from the Southern New Hebrides\n(principally Tanna) natives to work on the cotton plantations of white\nsettlers in Fiji. It is all, as I am assured, under the regulation of\nthe Consul at Ovalau, and \"managed\" properly. But I feel almost sure\nthat there is, or will be, injuries done to the natives, who (I am sure)\nare taken away under false pretences. The traders don't know the Tannese\nlanguage, and have no means of making the people understand any terms,\nand to talk of any contract is absurd. Yet, a large number of Tanna men,\nliving on really well-conducted plantations, owned by good men, might\nlead to a nucleus of Christian Tannese. So says Mr. M. True, say I, if\n(!) you can find the good planters and well-conducted plantations. Mr.\nM. assures me that they (the Wesleyan Missionaries) are watching the\nwhole thing carefully. He writes well and sensibly on the whole, and\nkindly asks me to visit his place, and judge for myself.\n\n'Tanna is in the hands of the Nova Scotia Presbyterians--Mr. Greddie,\nInglis, and others; but the adjacent islands we have always visited and\nconsidered ours, and of course a plague of this kind soon spreads.\nMy letter to Mr. Attwood on the matter was read by Sir John Young and\nCommodore Lambert, and they expressed a warm interest in the matter. Mr.\nM. says that they think it would be well to accept some rule of conduct\nin the matter from the Commodore, which is, I think, likely to do good.'\n\nBy the 15th of June the glad intelligence was received that the hospital\nhad been empty for a fortnight; and the house that was to have been\ncarried to Mota was put up for the married couples, for whom it afforded\nseparate sleeping rooms, though the large room was in common. Two\nweddings were preparing, and B---- and his wife had become reconciled.\n\n'We may hope that this time it is not a case of two children, then\nunbaptized, living together, heathen fashion, obeying mere passion,\nignorant of true love, but a sober, somewhat sad reunion of two clever\nand fairly-educated grown-up people, knowing much of life and its sad\nexperience, understanding what they are about, and trying to begin again\nwith prayer to God and purposes of a good life.'\n\nThis time of convalescence was a time of great progress. A deep\nimpression had been made on many, and there was a strong spirit of\nenquiry among them. The Bishop then began a custom of preaching to his\nblack scholars alone after the midday service, dismissing his five or\nsix white companions after prayers, because he felt he could speak\nmore freely and go more straight to the hearts of his converts and\ncatechumens if he had no other audience.\n\nThe other inhabitants of the island suffered long after the St. Barnabas\nscholars were free, and deaths continued. It was impossible to enforce\non such an undisciplined race the needful attention to cleanliness, or\neven care of the sick; the healthy were not kept apart, nor was the food\nproperly prepared for the sick. It was impossible to stir or convince\nthe easy-going tropical nature, and there was no authority to enforce\nsanitary measures, so the fever smouldered on, taking first one, then\nanother victim, and causing entire separation from St. Barnabas, except\nas far as the Bishop was concerned.\n\nMeantime, a house was being put up to receive Mr. Palmer's intended\nwife, the daughter of that Mr. Ashwell who had shared in the disastrous\nvoyage when the 'Southern Cross' had been wrecked. She had been brought\nup to Mission work, and was likely to be valuable among the young girls.\nAfter this announcement, the Bishop continues:--\n\n'My mind is now made up to take the great step of ordaining dear George\nSarawia, for nine years my pupil, and for the last three or four my\nfriend and helper. Codrington is only surprised that he is not ordained\nalready. Humanly speaking, there can be no doubt of his steadfastness.\nHe is, indeed, a thoroughly good conscientious man, humble without\nservility, friendly and at his ease without any forwardness, and he has\na large share of good sense and clear judgment. Moreover, he has long\nheld a recognised position with all here and in New Zealand, and for the\nlast two years the Mota people and the neighbouring islanders have quite\nregarded him as one whom they recognise as their leader and teacher, one\nof our own race, yet not like us--different; he knows and does what we\ncan't do and don't know.\n\n'They quite look upon him as free from all the difficulties which attend\na man's position as inheriting feuds, animosities, &c. He goes anywhere;\nwhen the island may be in a disturbed state, no one would hurt him; he\nis no partisan in their eyes, a man of other habits and thoughts and\ncharacter, a teacher of all.\n\n'I think, oh! with such feelings of thankfulness and hope too, of\nthe first Melanesian clergyman! I should almost like to take him to\nAuckland, that the Bishop might ordain him; but he ought to be ordained\nhere, in the presence of the Melanesians; and in the hasty confusion of\nthe few weeks in New Zealand, George would be at a sad loss what to do,\nand the month of October is cold and raw. But you may get this just in\ntime to think of his Ordination, and how you will pray for him! His\nwife Sara is a weakly body, but good, and she and I are, and always\nhave been, great friends. She has plenty of good sense. Their one\nchild, Simon, born in Norfolk Island some fourteen months ago, is a very\nnice-looking child, and healthy enough.\n\nMeantime the spirit of enquiry and faith was making-marked progress.\nMr. Codrington says: 'The stir in the hearts and minds of those already\nchristened might be called a revival, and the enquiring and earnest\nspirit of many more seemed to be working towards conversions. During\nthis time, there might be seen on the cliff or under the trees in the\nafternoon, or on Sundays, little groups gathered round some of the elder\nChristians, enquiring and getting help. It was the work that George\nevidently was enabled to do in this way that convinced everyone that the\ntime had quite come for his Ordination. It is worth mentioning that\nthe boys from one island, and one individual in particular, were much\ninfluenced by the last conversations of the first Christian who died\nhere (Walter Hotaswol), who had told his friends to be \"sure that all\nthe Bishop had told them was true.\"'\n\nThis quickening and its results are further described in the ensuing\nletter, wherein is mention of the Bauro man Taroniara, the most\nremarkable of the present conversions, and destined three years after to\ndie with the Bishop and Mr. Atkin.\n\n\n'June 20, 9 P.M., 1868.\n\n'My dear Sisters,--You know how I am thinking of him to-day. Seven years\nago! I think that he seems more and more present to my mind than ever.\nHow grateful it is to me to find the dear Bishop ever recurring to\nhim in his sermons, &c.; but indeed we all have the great blessing and\nresponsibility of being his children. The thought of meeting him again,\nif God be so merciful, comes over me sometimes in an almost overpowering\nway: I quite seem to see and feel as if kneeling by his side before the\nGreat Glory, and even then thinking almost most of him. And then, so\nmany others too--Mamma, Uncle James, Frank, &c., and you, dear Joan,\nthink of your dear Mother. It seems almost too much. And then the mind\ngoes on to think of the Saints of God in every generation, from one\nof the last gathered in (dear Mr. Keble) to the very first; and as we\nrealise the fact that we may, by God's wonderful mercy, be companions,\nthough far beneath the feet, of Patriarchs, and Apostles, and Martyrs,\nand even see Him as He is--it is too great for thought! and yet, thank\nGod, it is truth.\n\n'My heart is full too of other blessed thoughts. There seems to be a\nstirring of heart among our present set of scholars, the younger ones I\nmean; they come into my room after evening Chapel and school, one or\ntwo at a time, but very shy, sit silent, and at last say very softly,\n\"Bishop, I wish to stop here for good.\"\n\n'\"Why?\"\n\n'\"I do wish to be good, to learn, to be like George and Henry and the\nrest.\"\n\n'This morning I baptized Charlotte and Joanna. Charlotte will be married\nto Fisher on Wednesday, when Benjamin and Marion will also be married.\nOh, what blessings are these! I spoke earnestly of the service in my\npreachment.\n\n'Taroniara, from San Cristoval, said to me the other night, \"Bishop,\nwhy is it that now I think as I never thought before? I can't tell quite\nwhat I think. You know I used to be willing to learn, but I was easily\nled away on my own island; but I think that I shall never wish again\nto listen to anything but the Word of God. I know I may be wrong, but I\nthink I shall never be inclined to listen to anything said to me by\nmy people to keep me from you and from this teaching. I feel quite\ndifferent: I like and wish for things I never really used to care for; I\ndon't care for what I used to like and live for. What is it?\"\n\n'\"What do you think it is?\"\n\n'\"I think--but it is so (mava) great--I think it is the Spirit of God in\nmy heart.\"\n\n'As for the Mota and Matlavo fellows, and the girls too, they have now\ngood examples before them, and one and all wish to stop here as long\nas I please. And that being so, the return to their homes not being\na return to purely heathen islands, I trust that they may soon be\nbaptized. So my heart is full of thankfulness and wonder and awe.\n\n'All this time I write with a full sense of the uncertainty of this and\nevery human work. I know the Bishop is preaching on failures, and I try\nto think he is preaching to me.\n\n'July 2nd, 8 A.M.--My dear Sisters, what a day we had yesterday! so\nfull of happiness and thankfulness. It was the wedding-day of Fisher and\nCharlotte, Benjamin and Marion.\n\n'The chapel was so prettily dressed up by Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice,\nunder whose instructions some of the lads made evergreen ornaments, &c.,\nlarge white arums and red flowers also.\n\n'At 7 A.M. Morning-Prayers, as usual. At 9.30 the wedding. All the\nMelanesians in their places in Chapel; and as we came into the Chapel\nfrom my room, the 100th Psalm was chanted capitally. Mr. Codrington said\nhe never was present at so thoroughly devotional a wedding. It was a\nreally solemn religious service.\n\n'Then I gave good presents to everyone in the school, even the smallest\nboys came in for a knife, beads, &c. Then cricket, for the day was\nbeautifully fine, though it is midwinter. And all sorts of fun we\nhad. Then a capital dinner, puddings, &c. Then cricket, running races,\nrunning in sacks (all for prizes), then a great tea, 7 P.M. Chapel,\nthen native dances by a great bonfire. Then at 10 P.M. hot coffee and\nbiscuits, then my little speech, presenting all our good wishes to the\nmarried couples, and such cheering, I hope it may be well remembered.\nThe deeper feeling of it all is bearing fruit. Already lads and young\nmen from the Solomon Islands say, \"We begin to see what is meant by a\nman and woman living together.\" The solemnity of the service struck them\nmuch.\n\n'The bridegrooms wore their Sunday dresses, nice tidy trousers of dark\ntweed, Crimean shirt, collar and tie, and blue serge coat. The brides,\nwhite jackets trimmed with a bit of red, white collar and blue skirts.\nAll the answers quietly and reverently made; the whole congregation\nanswering \"Amen\" to the word of blessing in an unmistakeable way. The\n67th Psalm was chanted, of course.\n\n'My plan is to have Psalms, with reading and singing to suit each day,\nregarded as commemorative of the great facts and doctrines, so that\nevery week we read in chapel about forty Psalms, and sing about twelve\nhymns. These are pretty well known by heart, and form already a very\nconsiderable stock of Scriptural reference. The Resurrection and the\nGift of the Spirit, the Nativity, Manifestation, Betrayal, Ascension,\nCrucifixion, Burial, with the doctrines connected with them, come in\nthis way every week before their minds. I translated Psalms chosen with\nreference to this plan, and wrote hymns, &c. in the same way.\n\n'I wish you could have been with us yesterday. It was really a\nstrikingly solemn service. Then our fortnightly 7 A.M. Communions, our\ndaily 7 A.M. and 7 P.M. Services, our Baptisms, yes and our burials too,\nall are so quiet, and there is so much reverence. You see that they have\nnever learnt bad habits. A Melanesian scholar wouldn't understand how\none could pray in any other posture than kneeling.\n\n'The evening Catechumen classes, so happy. And then the dear fellows at\ntheir private prayers. The Chapel is always open, you know, and in the\nearly morning and late evening little knots of three and four, or eight\nand ten, are kneeling about, quietly saying their prayers. The sick\nlads--dear Clement and Richard who died--as long as they could move,\nknelt up in hospital to say their prayers, and all but quite the new\ncomers did the same. It was touching to see them, weak and in much pain,\nyet I did not of course tell them that they might as well pray as they\nlay on their rugs. Better for them even if it did a little exhaust them.\nIt is no mere formal observance of a rule, for there never has been any\nrule about it. I have given them short simple prayers, and they first\nlearn to kneel down with me here in my room, or with Codrington in his\nroom, &c. But I merely said (long ago at Kohimarama), \"You know you can\nalways go into the Chapel whenever you like.\"\n\n'Sometimes I do wish you could see them; but then unless you could talk\nwith them, and indeed unless you knew the Melanesian mind and nature,\nyou couldn't estimate these things rightly.\n\n'But never did I feel so hopeful, though my old text is ever in my mind,\nIsaiah lx. 5: \"Thine heart shall fear, and be enlarged.\" That's exactly\nit.\n\n'July 18th.--To-morrow I baptize Taroniara, of San Cristoval, a young\nman full of promise. He has a wife and little girl of about four years\nold. He may become, by God's blessing, the teacher of the people of his\nisland.'\n\n(From a letter of the same date to myself, I add the further particulars\nabout one who was to teach by his death instead of his life, and for\nwhom the name of the first martyr was chosen):--\n\n'He has been with me for some years, always good and amiable; but too\ngood-natured, too weak, so that he did not take a distinct line with his\npeople. He is a person of some consequence in his neighbourhood. Now\nhe gives all the proofs that can well be given of real sincerity. He\nwonders himself, as he contrasts his present with his former thoughts.\nI feel, humanly speaking, quite convinced that he is thoroughly in\nearnest. His wife and little child are in the islands. \"How foolish of\nme not to have listened to you, and brought them here at once. Then we\ncould stop here for good.\" But he will return with them, all being well,\nor without them, if anything has happened to them, and I see in him, as\nI hope and pray, the pioneer for San Cristoval at last.\n\n'(Resuming the home letter.) The language of Mota now is beginning to be\na very fair channel for communicating accurate theological teaching.\nWe have, of course, to a large extent made it so by assigning deeper\nmeanings to existing words (we have introduced very few words). This is\nthe case in every language. On Sunday night, if you had been here, and\nbeen able to understand my teaching on St. John vi. to the Communicants,\nyou would have been surprised, I think. Something of Hooker's fifth book\nwas being readily taken in by several of those present. An Old Testament\nhistory they don't learn merely as certain events. They quickly take up\nthe meaning, the real connection. I use the \"Sunday Teaching,\" or work\nthem at all events on that plan. Well, you mustn't say too much of the\nbright side of the picture. It is so easy to misunderstand.\n\n'The time has been bad for our \"lambing.\" We have thirty-five lambs,\nlooking well, and have lost, I think, nine. Yesterday a great event\noccurred. One of the cart-mares foaled; great was the satisfaction of\nthe Melanesians at the little filly. Calves are becoming too common, as\nwe have now fourteen or fifteen cows, and five more are owing to us for\ngoods which the people take in exchange--not money, which would not suit\nthem as well. We have fenced in plenty of grass, and I don't wan't to\npay any more for keep. Of course, we use a good deal of salt beef\non shore here, as well as seek to supply the \"Southern Cross\" on her\nvoyages.\n\n'It is pleasant to walk about and see the farm and gardens thriving.\nAll being well, we shall have some 300 bananas next year, lots of\nsugar-canes; many fruit trees are being planted, pine-apples, coffee,\n&c. Guavas grow here like weeds. I don't care for these things; but the\nothers do, and of course the scholars rejoice in them.\n\n'I think of the islands, and see them in my waking dreams, and it seems\nas if nothing was done. But I think again of what it was only a very\nshort time ago, and oh! I do feel thankful indeed, and amazed, and\nalmost fearful. I should like much, if I am alive and well, to see my\nway to spending more of my time on the islands. But the careful training\nof picked scholars for future missionaries is, I am sure, the most\nimportant part of our work (though it must be combined as much as\npossible with residence in the islands). If I could feel that the school\nwas well able to get on without me, I would be off to the islands for\na good spell. On the other hand, I feel most strongly that my chief\nbusiness is to make such provision as I may for the multiplication of\nnative missionaries, and the future permanent development and extension\nof the Mission; and to do this, our best scholars must be carefully\ntrained, and then we may hope to secure a competent staff of native\nclergymen for the islands.\n\n'Mind, I am not disposed to act in a hasty way. Only I don't mean to\nlet conventional notions about an English clergyman hinder my providing\nMelanesian islands with a Melanesian ministry. These scholars of ours\nknow very much more, and I imagine possess qualifications of all\nkinds for their work in Melanesia, greater than the majority of the\nmissionaries in the old missionary times.\n\n'How many men did good work who could hardly read, only repeat a few\nportions of the Service-book, &c.!\n\n'I need not say that we wish to educate them up to the maximum point\nof usefulness for their practical work. But, given earnestness and\nsteadfastness of character, a fair amount of teaching power, and a sound\nknowledge of fundamental truths, of the Church Services, and the meaning\nand spirit of the Prayer-book, and we may surely trust that, by God's\ngrace, they may execute the office of the Ministry to the glory of God,\nand the edification of the Church.\n\n'They have now in Mota, in print, St. Luke, the Acts; soon will have St.\nJohn, which is all ready; the Prayer-book, save some of the Psalms, and\na few other small portions. And in MS. they have a kind of manual of\nthe Catechism, abstract of the Books of the Old Testament, papers on\nProphecy, &c., &c. All this work, once done in Mota, is, without very\nmuch labour, to be transferred into Bauro, Mahaga, Mara, &c., &c. as I\nhope; but that is in the future.'\n\nIn the birthday letter to his sister Fanny, his chilly nature confesses\nthat August cold was making itself felt; and it was becoming time for\nhim to make a journey to the settled world, both on account of a small\ntumour under his eyelid, and of the state of his teeth. Moreover, no\nletters from home had reached him since the 2nd of March. But he writes\non the 7th of September to his brother:--\n\n'This does not a bit distress me. I like the freedom from all external\nexcitement. It gives me uninterrupted time from my own work; and the\nworld does not suffer from my ignorance of its proceedings. How you\nexist with all the abominations of daily papers, I can't imagine. Your\nlife in England seems to be one whirl and bustle, with no real time for\nquiet thought and patient meditation, &c. And yet men do think and do\ngreat things, and it doesn't wear them out soon either. Witness Bishops\nand Judges, &c., living to eighty and even ninety in our own days.\n\n'I like quiet and rest, and no railroads and no daily posts; and, above\nall, no visitors, mere consumers of time, mere idlers and producers of\nidleness. So, without any post, and nothing but a cart on wheels, save\na wheelbarrow, and no visitors, and no shops, I get on very happily and\ncontentedly. The life here is to me, I must confess, luxurious, because\nI have what I like, great punctuality, early hours, regular school work,\nregular reading, very simple living; the three daily meals in hall take\nabout seventy minutes all put together, and so little time is lost; and\nthen the climate is delightful. Too cold now, but then I ought to be in\nthe islands. The thermometer has been as low as 56\u00b0 in my room; and I\nam standing in my room and writing now with my great coat on, the\nthermometer being 67\u00b0.\n\n'You know that I am not cut out for society, never was at my ease in\nit, and am glad to be out of it. I am seldom at my ease except among\nMelanesians: they and my books are my best companions. I never feel the\nvery slightest desire for the old life. You know how I should like to\nsee you dear ones, and...[others by name] but I couldn't stand more than\na week in England, if I could transplant myself there in five minutes!\nI don't think this augurs any want of affection; but I have grown into\nthis life; I couldn't change it without a most unpleasant wrench.'\n\nThe letter was at this point, when the 'Southern Cross' arrived, on\nSeptember 10, to carry off the Bishop and Mr. Palmer: the one to the\nGeneral Synod, and to take leave of his most loved and venerated friend;\nthe other, to fetch his bride.\n\nHe arrived on the 18th of the month, looking ill, and much worn and even\ndepressed, more so than Lady Martin had ever seen him, for the coming\nparting pressed heavily upon him. The eye and teeth were operated upon\nwithout loss of time, and successfully; but this, with the cold of the\nvoyage, made him, in his own word, 'shaky,' and it was well that he was\na guest at Taurarua, with Lady Martin to take care of him, feed him on\nfood not solid, and prevent him on the ensuing Sunday from taking more\nthan one of the three services which had been at once proffered to him.\n\nIt was no small plunge from the calm of St. Barnabas. 'We agree,' said\nLady Martin, in a note within his envelope, 'that we cannot attempt to\nwrite letters just now. We are in a whirl, mental and bodily; one bit\nof blue sky has just shown itself, viz. that Coley may possibly stay on\nwith us for a week or two after the Selwyns have left us. This really is\nproeter spem, and I mean to think that it will come to pass.'\n\nBut in all this bustle, he found time to enclose a kind little note to\nme; showing his sympathy with the sorrow of that summer, in my mother's\nillness:--\n\n\n'Auckland. October 3, 1868.\n\n'I add one line, my dear Cousin, to assure you of my prayers being\noffered for you, now more especially when a heavy trial is upon you and\na deep sorrow awaiting you. May God comfort and bless you! Perhaps the\nfull experience of such anxiety and the pressure of a constant weight\nmay, in His good Providence, qualify you more than ever to help others\nby words put into your mouth out of your own heart-felt troubles.\n\n'Yet in whatever form the sorrow comes, there is the blessing of knowing\nthat she is only being mysteriously prepared for the life of the world\nto come. There is no real sorrow where there is no remorse, nor misery\nfor the falling away of those we love. You have, I dare say, known (as\nI have) some who have the bitterness of seeing children turn out badly,\nand this is the sorrow that breaks one down.'\n\nIt was during these spring days of October, that last Sunday before the\nfinal parting, that being hindered by pouring rain from going with\nthe Primate, who was holding a farewell service with the sick at the\nhospital, Bishop Patteson said the prayers in the private chapel. After\nthese were ended (Lady Martin says), 'he spoke a few words to us.\nHe spoke of our Lord standing on the shore of the Lake after His\nResurrection; and he carried us, and I think himself too, out of the\nheaviness of sorrow into a region of peace and joy, where all conflict\nand partings and sin shall cease for ever. It was not only what he said,\nbut the tones of his musical voice, and expression of peace on his own\nface, that hushed us into a great calm. One clergyman, who was present,\ntold Sir William Martin that he had never known anything so wonderful.\nThe words were like those of an inspired man.\n\n'Three days after, our dear friends sailed. I will not dwell on the\nlast service at St. Paul's Church, when more than four hundred persons\nreceived the Holy Communion, where were four Bishops administering\nin the body of the church and the transepts; but in the chancel, the\nPrimate and his beloved son in the faith were partaking together for the\nlast time of the Bread of Life.\n\n'From the Church we accompanied our beloved friends to the ship, and\ndrove back on a cold, dry evening, a forlorn party, to the desolate\nhouse. But from that time dear Bishop Patteson roused himself from his\nnatural depression (for to whom could the loss be greater than to him?)\nand set himself to cheer and comfort us all. How gentle and sympathising\nhe was! He let me give him nourishing things, even wine--which he had\nlong refused to take--because I told him Mrs. Selwyn wished him to have\nit. Many hearts were drooping, and he no longer shrank from society, but\nwent about from one to another in the kindest manner. I do not know how\nwe could have got on without him. He loved to talk of the Bishop. In his\nhumility he seemed to feel as if any power of usefulness in himself had\nbeen gained from him. It was like him to think of our Auckland poor at\nthis time. They would so miss the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn. He prayed me\nto draw \u00a350 a year for the next year or two, to be spent in any way I\nshould think best. And he put it as a gift from his dear Father, who\nwould have wished that money of his invested here should be used in part\nfor the good of the townspeople. This did not include his subscriptions\nto the Orphan Home and other charities.'\n\nTo make his very liberal gifts in time of need in the name of his\nFather, was his favourite custom; as his former fellow-labourer, the\nRev. B. T. Dudley, found when a case of distress in his own parish in\nthe Canterbury Settlement called forth this ready assistance.\n\nPerhaps the young Church of New Zealand has never known so memorable or\nso sorrowful a day as that which took from her her first Bishop: a day\ntruly to be likened to that when the Ephesians parted with their Apostle\nat Miletus. The history of this parting Bishop Patteson had himself to\nread on Saturday, October 17, the twenty-seventh anniversary of Bishop\nSelwyn's Consecration. It was at the Celebration preceding the last\nmeeting of the Synod, when Collect, Epistle, and Gospel were taken from\nthe Order for the Consecration of Bishops; and as the latter says,--'He\nhas always told me to officiate with him, and I had, by his desire, to\nread Acts xx. for the Epistle. I did read it without a break-down, but\nit was hard work.' Then followed the Sunday, before described by Lady\nMartin; and on Tuesday the 20th, that service in St. Mary's--the parting\nfeast:--\n\n'Then,' writes the younger Bishop, 'the crowded streets and wharf, for\nall business was suspended, public offices and shops shut, no power of\nmoving about the wharf, horses taken from the carriage provided for the\noccasion, as a mixed crowd of English and Maoris drew them to the wharf.\nThen choking words and stifled efforts to say, \"God bless you,\" and so\nwe parted!\n\n'It is the end of a long chapter. I feel as if \"my master was taken from\nmy head.\"\n\n'Ah! well, they are gone, and we will try to do what we can.\n\n'I feel rather no-how, and can't yet settle down to anything!'\n\nBut to the other sister on the same day comes an exhortation not to be\nalarmed if friends report him as 'not up to the mark.' How could it\nbe otherwise at such a time? For truly it was the last great shock his\naffections sustained. In itself, it might not be all that the quitting\nhome and family had been; but not only was there the difference between\ngoing and being left behind, but youth, with its spirit of enterprise\nand compensation, was past, and he was in a state to feel the pain of\nthe separation almost more intensely than when he had walked from the\ndoor at Feniton, and gathered his last primrose at his mother's grave.\nBefore leaving Auckland, the Bishop married the Rev. John Palmer to Miss\nAshwell; and while they remained for a short time in New Zealand, he\nreturned for the Ember Week.\n\n\n'St. Thomas, Norfolk Island: December 21, 1868.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--I must write you a few lines, not as yet in answer to\nyour very interesting letter about Mr. Keble and about Ritualism, &c.,\nbut about our great event of yesterday.\n\n'George Sarawia was ordained Deacon in our little chapel, in the\npresence of fifty-five Melanesians and a few Norfolk Islanders. With him\nCharles Bice, a very excellent man from St. Augustine's, was ordained\nDeacon also. He has uncommon gifts of making himself thoroughly at\nhome with the Melanesians. It comes natural to him, there is no effort,\nnothing to overcome apparently, and they of course like him greatly. He\nspeaks the language of Mota, the lingua franca here, you know.\n\n'But what am I to say of George that you cannot imagine for yourself? It\nwas in the year 1857 that the Bishop and I first saw him at Vanua Lava\nIsland. He has been with us now ten years; I can truly say, that he has\nnever given me any uneasiness. He is not the cleverest of our scholars;\nbut no one possesses the confidence of us all in the same degree. True,\nhe is the oldest of the party, he can hardly be less than twenty-six\nyears old, for he had been married a year when first we saw him; but it\nis his character rather than his age which gives him his position. For a\nlong time he has been our link with the Melanesians themselves whenever\nthere was something to be done by one of themselves rather than by us\nstrangers. Somehow the other scholars get into a way of recognising\nhim as the A 1 of the place, and so also in Mota and the neighbouring\nislands his character and reputation are well known. The people expect\nhim to be a teacher among them, they all know that he is a person of\nweight.\n\n'The day was warm and fine.\n\n'At 7.20 A.M. we had the Morning Service, chanting the 2nd Psalm. I\nread Isa. xlii. 5-12 for the First Lesson, and 1 Tim. iii. 8-13 for the\nSecond, and the Collect in the Ordination Service before the Prayer of\nSt. Chrysostom. Mr. Codrington, as usual, read the prayers to the end of\nthe third Collect, after which we sang our Sunday hymn.\n\n'At 11 A.M. we began the Ordination Service. One Epiphany hymn, my short\nsermon, then Mr. Codrington presented the candidates, speaking Mota for\none and English for the other. The whole service was in Mota, except\nthat I questioned Bice, and he answered in English, and I used the\nEnglish words of Ordination in his case. George was questioned and\nanswered in Mota, and then Bice in English, question by question. Mr.\nNobbs was here and a few of the people, Mr. Atkin, Mr. Brooke, so we\nmade a goodly little party of seven in our clerical supper.\n\n'What our thoughts were you can guess as we ordained the first\nMelanesian clergyman. How full of thankfulness, of awe, of wonderment,\nthe fulfilment of so much, the pledge of it, if it be God's will, of so\nmuch more! And not a little of anxiety, too--yet the words of comfort\nare many; and it does not need much faith, with so evident a proof of\nGod's Love and Power and Faithfulness before our very eyes, to trust\nGeorge in His Hands.\n\n'The closing stanzas of the Ordination Hymn in the \"Christian Year\"\ncomforted me as I read them at night; but I had peace and comfort, thank\nGod, all through.\n\n'Others, too, are pressing on. I could say, with truth, to them in the\nevening in the Chapel, \"This is the beginning, only the beginning, the\nfirst fruit. Many blossoms there are already. I know that God's Spirit\nis working in the hearts of some of you. Follow that holy guidance, I\npray always that you may be kept in the right way, and that you may be\nenabled to point it out to others, and to guide them in it.\"\n\n'And yet no words can express what the recoil of the wave heathenism is,\nbut \"when the enemy shall come in like a flood,\" and it has indeed its\nown glorious word of Promise. It is like one who was once a drunkard and\nhas left off drinking, and then once more tastes the old deadly poison,\nand becomes mad for drink; or like the wild furious struggles (as I\nsuppose) of poor penitents in penitentiaries, when it seems as if the\ndevil must whirl them back into sin. You know we see things which\nlook like \"possession,\" a black cloud settling down upon the soul,\noverwhelming all the hopeful signs for a time. And then, when I have my\nquiet talk with such an one (and only very few, and they not the best\namong us), he will say, \"I can't tell, I didn't mean it. It was not I.\nWhat was it?\" And I say, \"It was the devil, seeking to devour you, to\ndrag you back into the old evil dark ways.\" \"It is awful, fearful.\"\n\"Then you must gird your loins and pray the more, and remember that you\nare Christ's, that you belong to Him, that you are God's child, that\nSatan has no right to claim you now. Resist him in this name, in the\nstrength of the Spirit whom Christ has sent to us from the Father, and\nhe will flee from you.\"\n\n'It is of course the same more or less with us all, but it comes out\nin, a shape which gives it terrible reality and earnestness. Only think,\nthen, more than ever, of them and of me, and pray that \"the Spirit of\nthe Lord may lift up a standard against the enemy.\" At times we do seem\nto realise that it is a downright personal struggle for life or death.'\n\nThere the writer paused, and the next date is\n\n'Christmas Day, 1868.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--What a happy happy day! At 12.5 A.M. I was awoke\nby a party of some twenty Melanesians, headed by Mr. Bice, singing\nChristmas carols at my bedroom door. It is a glass window, opening on to\nthe verandah. How delightful it was! I had gone to bed with the Book\nof Praise by my side, and Mr. Keble's hymn in my mind; and now the Mota\nversions, already familiar to us, of the Angels' Song and of the \"Light\nto lighten the Gentiles,\" sung too by some of our heathen scholars, took\nup as it were the strain. Their voices sounded so fresh and clear in the\nstill midnight, the perfectly clear sky, the calm moon, the warm genial\nclimate.\n\n'I lay awake afterwards, thinking on the blessed change wrought in their\nminds, thinking of my happy happy lot, of how utterly undeserved it was\nand is, and (as is natural) losing myself in thoughts of God's wonderful\ngoodness and mercy and love.\n\n'Then at 4.45 A.M. I got up, a little later perhaps than usual.\nCodrington and Brooke were very soon at work finishing the decorations\nin the Chapel; branches of Norfolk Island pines, divers evergreens,\npomegranates and oleanders and lilies (in handfuls) and large snow-white\narums; on the altar-table arums above, and below lilies and evergreens.\nOleanders and pomegranates marked the chancel arch. The rugs looked very\nhandsome, the whole floor at the east end is covered with a red baize or\ndrugget to match the curtains.\n\n'7 A.M., Holy Communion. Six clergymen in surplices and fifteen other\ncommunicants. At 10 A.M., a short, very bright, joyful service, the\nregular Morning Prayers, Psalms xcv. xix. cx. all chanted. Proper\nLessons, two Christmas hymns.\n\n'Then games, cricket, prisoner's base, running races. Beef, pork,\nplum-puddings.\n\n'Now we shall soon have evening Chapel, a great deal of singing, a\nfew short words from me; then a happy, merry, innocent evening, native\ndances, coffee, biscuit, and snapdragons to finish with.\n\n'If you had been here to-day, you would indeed have been filled with\nsurprise and thankfulness and hope. There is, I do think, a great deal\nto show that these scholars of ours so connect religion with all that\nis cheerful and happy. There is nothing, as I think, sanctimonious about\nthem. They say, \"We are so happy here! How different from our lands!\"\n\n'And I think I can truly say that this is not from want of seriousness\nin those of an age to be serious.\n\n'I pour this out to you in my happy day--words of hope and joy and\nthankfulness! But remember that I feel that all this should make me\nthoughtful as well as hopeful. How can I say but what sorrow and trial\nmay even now be on their way hither? But I thank God, oh! I do thank\nHim for his great love and mercy, and I do not think it wrong to give my\nfeelings of joy some utterance.'\n\nWith this year the Eucharist was administered weekly, the Melanesians\nstill attending fortnightly; but it proved to have been a true\nforeboding that a sorrow was on its way:--\n\n'January 8th.--A very joyful Christmas, but a sad Epiphany!\n\n'U---, dearer to me than ever, has (I now hear from him) been putting\nhimself in the way of temptation. I had noticed that he was not like\nhimself, and spoke to him and warned him. I told him that if he wished\nto be married at once, I was quite willing to marry him; but he said\nthey were too young, and yet he was always thinking of the young\nfiancee. Alas! he had too often (as he says) put himself in the way\nof temptation with his eyes open, and he fell. He was frightened,\nterrified, bewildered.\n\n'Alas! it is our first great sorrow of the kind, for he was a\nCommunicant of nearly three years' standing. Yet I have much comfort.\n\n'I can have no doubt, 1st, that a fall was necessary, I believe fully.\nHis own words (not suggested by me) were, \"I tempted God often, and He\nlet me fall; I don't mean He was the cause of it, it is of course only\nmy fault; but I think I see that I might have gone on getting more and\nmore careless and wandering further and further from Him unless I had\nbeen startled and frightened.\" And then he burst out, \"Oh! don't send me\naway for ever. I know I have made the young ones stumble, and destroyed\nthe happiness of our settlement here. I know I must not be with you all\nin Chapel and school and hall. I know I can't teach any more, I know\nthat, and I am miserable, miserable. But don't tell me I must go away\nfor ever. I can't bear it!\"\n\n'I did manage to answer almost coldly, for I felt that if I once let\nloose my longing desire to let him see my real feeling, I could not\nrestrain myself at all. \"Who wishes to send you away, U--? It is not me\nwhom you have displeased and injured.\"\n\n'\"I know. It is terrible! But I think of the Prodigal Son. Oh! I do long\nto go back! Oh! do tell me that He loves me still.\"\n\n'Poor dear fellow! I thought I must leave him to bear his burthen for a\ntime. We prayed together, and I left him, or rather sent him away from\nmy room, but he could neither eat nor sleep.\n\n'The next day his whole manner, look, everything made one sure (humanly\nspeaking) that he was indeed truly penitent; and then when I began to\nspeak words of comfort, of God's tender love and compassion, and told\nhim how to think of the Lord's gentle pity when He appeared first to\nthe Magdalene and Peter, and when I took his hand in the old loving way,\npoor fellow, he broke down more than ever, and cried like a child.\n\n'Ah! it is very sad; but I do think he will be a better, more steadfast\nman: he has learnt his weakness, and where to find strength, as he\nnever had before. And the effect on the school is remarkable. That there\nshould be so much tenderness of conscience and apprehension of the guilt\nof impurity among the children of the heathen in among many brought up\nin familiarity with sin, is a matter for much thankfulness.'\n\nTo this may well be added an extract from Joseph Atkin's journal,\nshowing his likemindedness both in thoughtfulness and charity:--\n\n'I feel quite sure that we must be prepared for many such cases. The\nwhole associations and training of the early lives of these people must\ninfluence them as long as they live. The thought of what my mother and\nsister would think, never occur to them as any influence for good; and\nalthough this may be said to be a low motive for doing right, it is a\nvery powerful one, and it is more tangible because it is lower.\n\n'The Bishop, in speaking of it to-day, told the boys that they ought not\nto do right to please him, but because it was right to please God; but I\ncan't help thinking that pleasing the Bishop may and can help the\nother very much. Is it not right for a child to do right to please its\nparents, and for older children too to be helped by the thought that\nthey are pleasing those they love and honour?\n\n'We had a council to-day of all the Church members to talk about how\nU---- was to be treated. For himself, poor fellow, I should think\nkindness would be harder to bear than neglect.\n\n'Mr. Codrington says, \"On this occasion all the male Communicants went\ntogether to some little distance, where a group of boulders under the\npines gave a convenient seat. The Bishop set out the case, and asked\nwhat was the opinion of the elder boys as to the treatment of the\noffender. They were left alone to consider; and when we came back, they\ngave their judgment, that he should not eat in the hall at what may be\ncalled the high table, that he should not teach in school, and should\nnot come into Chapel.\"\n\n'This was of course what was intended, but the weight of the sentence so\ngiven was greater with the school, and a wholesome lesson given to the\njudges. How soon the Bishop's severity, which never covered his pity,\ngave way to his affection for one of his oldest and dearest pupils, and\nhis tenderness for the penitent, and how he took a large share of blame\nupon himself, just where it was not due, can well be understood by all\nwho knew him.'\n\nThere was soon a brighter day. On January 25, writes Mr. Atkin:--\n\n'We had a great day. In the morning some who were baptized last summer\nwere confirmed, and at night there were baptized three girls and\nthirteen boys. Most of them were quite little fellows. I don't think any\nof us will easily forget their grave and sober but not shy looks, as one\nby one they stepped up to the Bishop. I think that all understood and\nmeant what they said, that Baptism was no mere form with them, but a\nreal solemn compact. All who were in my class (nine), or the Sunday\nmorning school, were baptized in the evening. While we were standing\nround the font, I thought of you at home, and half wished that you\ncould have seen us there. I was witness for my son (Wate); he was called\nJoseph, so that I shall lose my name that I have kept so long.'\n\nJoseph Wate, the little Malanta boy, was always viewed by the Atkin\nfamily as a kind of child, and kept up a correspondence with his\ngodfather's sister, Mother Mary as he called her.\n\nOn the same day the Bishop wrote to Judge Pohlman:--\n\n'My very dear Friend,--I must not let our correspondence drop, and the\nless likely it seems to be that we may meet, the more I must seek to\nretain your friendship, by letting you know not only the facts that\noccur here, but my thoughts and hopes and fears about them.'\n\n(Then, after mentioning the recent transgression, the letter continues\nrespecting the youth.)\n\n'His fright and terror, his misery and deep sorrow, and (I do believe)\ngodly repentance, make me say that he is still, as I trust, one of our\nbest scholars. But it is very sad. For three weeks he did not come even\ninto chapel with us. He not only acquiesced, but wished that it should\nbe so.\n\n'Last Saturday evening he was readmitted, without any using of fine\nnames. I did as a matter of fact do what was the practice of the early\nChristians, and is recognised in our Ash Wednesday service now. It was\nvery desirable that great notice should be taken of the commission of\nan act which it is hard for a heathen to understand to be an act of sin,\nand the effect upon the whole school of the sad and serious way in which\nthis offence was regarded has been very good.\n\n'In the circumstances it is so easy to see how the discipline of the\nearly Church was not an artificial, but a necessary system, though by\ndegrees elaborated in a more complicated manner. But I find, not seldom,\nthat common sense dictates some course which afterwards I come across\nin Bingham, or some such writer, described as a usage of the early\nChristians.\n\n'In our English nineteenth century life such practices could hardly be\nreintroduced with benefit. Yet something which might mark open offences\nwith the censure of the Christian Body is clearly desirable when you can\nhave it; and of course with us there is no difficulty whatever.\n\n'I cannot be surprised, however deeply grieved at this sad occurrence;\nand though it is no comfort to think how many English persons would\nthink nothing of this, and certainly not show the deep compunction and\nsorrow which this poor fellow shows, yet, as a matter of fact, how few\nyoung Englishmen are there who would think such an act, as this young\nMelanesian thinks it to be, a grievous sin against God, and matter for\ncontinual sorrow and humiliation. So I do rejoice that he is sorrowing\nafter a godly sort.\n\n'In other respects there is a very hopeful promising appearance just\nnow. We number seven clergymen, including myself. We have a very\nefficient band of Melanesian teachers, and could at this moment work a\nschool of 150 scholars.\n\n'George Sarawia will (D.V.) start with a little company of Christian\nfriends at his own island. The scholars from all the different islands\nfraternise excellently well, and in many cases the older and more\nadvanced have their regular chums, by private arrangement among\nthemselves, whom they help, and to whose islands they are quite prepared\nto be sent, if I think fit so to arrange; and I really do believe that\nfrom the Banks Islands we may send out missionaries to many of the\nMelanesian islands, as from Samoa and Karotonga they have gone out\nto the islands of the Eastern Pacific. Humanly speaking, I see no\ndifficulty in our drawing into our central school here any number of\nnatives that we can support, from the New Hebrides, Banks and Solomon\nIslands, and I trust soon from the Santa Cruz Islands also.\n\n'Here must be the principal work, the training up missionaries and\nsteadfast Christian men and women, not of ability sufficient to become\nthemselves missionaries, but necessary to strengthen the hands of their\nmore gifted countrymen. This training must be carried on here, but with\nit must be combined a frequent visitation and as lengthened sojourns in\nthe islands as possible. The next winter we hope that the Rev. J. Atkin\nwill be some time at San Cristoval, the Rev. C. H. Brooke at Florida,\nthe Rev. J. Palmer at Mota. But I am more than ever convinced that\nthe chiefest part of our work is to consist in training up Melanesian\nclergymen, and educating them up to the point of faithfully reproducing\nour simple teaching. We must hope to see native self-supporting\nMelanesian Churches, not weak indolent Melanesians dependent always\non an English missionary, but steadfast, thoughtful men and women,\nretaining the characteristics of their race so far as they can\nbe sanctified by the Word of God in prayer, and not force useless\nimitations of English modes of thought and nineteenth century\ncivilisation.\n\n'It is sometimes a consequence of our national self-conceit, sometimes\nof want of thought, that no consideration is shown to the characteristic\nnative way of regarding things. But Christianity is a universal\nreligion, and assimilates and interpolates into its system all that is\ncapable of regeneration and sanctification anywhere.\n\n'Before long I hope to get something more respectable in the way of\na report printed and circulated. It seems unreasonable to say so, but\nreally I have very little time that I can spare from directly Melanesian\nwork, what with school, translations, working out languages, and (thank\nGod) the many, many hours spent in quiet interviews with Melanesians\nof all ages and islands, who come to have private talks with me, and to\ntell me of their thoughts and feelings. These are happy hours indeed. I\nmust end. Always, my dear friend, affectionately and sincerely yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe readmission thus mentioned was by the imposition of hands, when the\npenitent was again received, and his conduct ever since has proved his\nrepentance true.\n\nFebruary brought Mr. and Mrs. Palmer to their new home, and carried\naway Mr. Codrington for a holiday. The budget of letters sent by this\nopportunity contained a remarkable one from young Atkin. Like master,\nlike scholar:--\n\n\n'February 24, 1869.\n\n'My dear Mother,--You must not think about my coming back; I may have to\ndo it, but if I do, it will seem like giving up the object of my life.\nI did not enter upon this work with any enthusiasm, and it is perhaps\npartly from that cause that I am now so attached to it that little short\nof necessity would take me away; my own choice, I think, never. I know\nit is much harder for you than for me. I wish I could lighten it to you,\nbut it cannot be. It is a great deal more self-denial for you to spare\nme to come away than for me to come away. You must think, like David, \"I\nwill not offer unto the Lord my God of that which doth cost me nothing.\"\nIf you willingly give Him what you prize most, however worthless the\ngift may be, He will prize it for the willingness with which it is\ngiven. If it had been of my own choosing that I came away, I should\noften blame myself for having made a selfish choice in not taking harder\nand more irksome work nearer home, but it came to me without choosing. I\ncan only be thankful that God has been so good to me.'\n\n\nWell might the Bishop write to the father, 'I thank you in my heart for\nJoe's promise.'\n\nHow exactly his own spirit, in simple, unconscious self-abnegation and\nthorough devotion to the work. How it chimes in with this, written on\nthe self-same morning to the Bishop of Lichfield:--\n\n\n'St. Matthias Day, 6.45 A.M., 1869.\n\nMy dear Bishop,--You do not doubt that I think continually of you, yet\nI like you to have a line from me to-day. We are just going into Chapel,\naltering our usual service to-day that we may receive the Holy Communion\nwith special remembrance of my Consecration and special prayer for a\nblessing on the Mission. There is much to be thankful for indeed,\nmuch also that may well make the retrospect of the last eight years a\nsomewhat sad and painful one as far as I am myself concerned. It\ndoes seem wonderful that good on the whole is done. But everything is\nwonderful and full of mystery....\n\n'It is rather mean of me, I fear, to get out of nearly all troubles by\nbeing here. Yet it seems to me very clear that the special work of the\nMission is carried on more conveniently (one doesn't like to say more\nsuccessfully) here, and my presence or absence is of no consequence when\ngeneral questions are under discussion....\n\n'Your very affectionate\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe same mail brought a letter to Miss Mackenzie, with much valuable\nmatter on Mission work:--\n\n\n'February 26, 1869.\n\n'Dear Miss Mackenzie,--I have just read your letter to me of April 1867,\nwhich I acknowledged, rather than answered, long ago.\n\n'I can't answer it as it deserves to be answered now. I think I have\nalready written about thirty-five letters to go by this mail, and my\nusual work seldom leaves me a spare hour.\n\n'But I am truly thankful for the hopes that seem to show themselves\nthrough the mists, in places where all Christian men must feel so\nstrong an interest. I do hope to hear that the new Bishopric may soon\nbe founded, on which Mr. Robertson and you and others have so set your\nhearts. That good man! I often think of him, and hope soon to send him,\nthrough you, \u00a310 from our Melanesian offertory.\n\n'You know we have, thank God, thirty-nine baptized Melanesians here, of\nwhom fifteen are communicants, and one, George Sarawia, a clergyman. He\nwas ordained on December 20.\n\n'There are many little works usually going ons which I don't consider it\nfair to reckon among the regular industrial work of the Mission. I pay\nthe young men and lads and boys small sums for such things, and I\nthink it right to teach the elder ones the use of money by giving them\nallowances, out of which they buy their clothing, &c., when necessary,\nall under certain regulations. I say this that you may know that our\nweekly offertory is not a sham. No one knows what they give, or whether\nthey give or not. A Melanesian takes the offertory bason, and they give\nor not as they please. I take care that such moneys as are due to them\nshall be given in 3d., 4d., and 6d. pieces.\n\n'Last year our offertory rather exceeded \u00a340, and it is out of this that\nmy brother will now pay you \u00a310 for the Mackenzie fund. I write all this\nbecause you will like to think that some of this little offertory comes\nbond fide from Melanesians.\n\n'...You take me to mean, I hope, that Christianity is the religion for\nmankind at large, capable of dealing with the spiritual and bodily needs\nof man everywhere.\n\n'It is easy for us now to say that some of the early English Missions,\nwithout thinking at all about it, in all probability, sought to impose\nan English line of thought and religion on Indians and Africans. Even\nEnglish dress was thought to be almost essential, and English habits,\n&c., were regarded as part of the education of persons converted through\nthe agency of English Missions. All this seems to be burdening the\nmessage of the Gospel with unnecessary difficulties. The teacher\neverywhere, in England or out of it, must learn to discriminate between\nessentials and non-essentials. It seems to me self-evident that\nthe native scholar must be educated up to the highest point that is\npossible, and that unless one is (humanly speaking) quite sure that he\ncan and will reproduce faithfully the simple teaching he has received,\nhe ought not to teach, much less to be ordained.\n\n'All our elder lads and girls here teach the younger ones, and we know\nwhat they teach. Their notes of our lessons are brought to me, books\nfull of them, and there I see what they know; for if they can write down\na plain account of facts and doctrines, that is a good test of their\nhaving taken in the teaching. George Sarawia's little essay on the\ndoctrine of the Communion is to me perfectly satisfactory. It was\nwritten without my knowledge. I found it in one of his many note-books\naccidentally.\n\n'As for civilisation, they all live entirely with us, and every\nMelanesian in the place, men and women, boys and girls, three times a\nday take their places with all of us in hall, and use their knives and\nforks, plates, cups and saucers (or, for the passage, one's pannikins)\njust as we do. George and two others, speaking for themselves and their\nwives, have just written out, among other things, in a list which I told\nthem to make out: plates, cups, saucers, knives, forks, spoons, tubs,\nsaucepans, kettles, soap, towels, domestic things for washing, ironing,\n&c.\n\n'The common presents that our elder scholars take or send to their\nfriends include large iron pots for cooking, clothing, &c. They build\nimproved houses, and ask for small windows, &c., to put in them, boxes,\ncarpet bags for their clothes, small writing desks, note-books, ink,\npens. They keep their best clothes very carefully, and on Sundays and\ngreat days look highly respectable. And for years we know no instance\nof a baptized Melanesian throwing aside his clothing when taking his\nholiday at home.\n\n'As far as I can see my way to any rule in the matter, it is this: all\nthat is necessary to secure decency, propriety, cleanliness, health,\n&c., must be provided for them. This at once involves alteration of the\nhouses, divisions, partitions. People who can read and write, and cut\nout and sew clothes, must have light in their houses. This involves a\nchange of the shape and structure of the hut. They can't sit in clean\nclothes on a dirty floor, and they can't write, or eat out of plates\nand use cups, &c., without tables or benches, and as they don't want\nto spend ten hours in sleep or idle talk, they must have lamps for\ncocoa-nut and almond oil.\n\n'These people are not taught to adopt these habits by word of mouth.\nThey live with us and do as we do. Two young married women are sitting\nin my room now. I didn't call them in, nor tell them what to do. \"We\ndidn't quite understand what you said last night.\" \"Well, I have written\nit out,--there it is.\" They took, as usual, the MS., sat down, just\nas you or anyone would do, at the table to read it, and are now making\ntheir short notes of it. Anyone comes in and out at any time, when not\nat school, chapel, or work, just as they please. We each have our own\nsitting-room, which is in this sense public property, and of course they\nfall into our ways.\n\n'There is perhaps no such thing as teaching civilisation by word\nof command, nor religion either. The sine qua non for the\nmissionary--religious and moral character assumed to exist--is the\nliving with his scholars as children of his own. And the aim is to lift\nthem up, not by words, but by the daily life, to the sense of their\ncapacity for becoming by God's grace all that we are, and I pray God a\ngreat deal more; not as literary men or scholars, but as Christian men\nand women, better suited than we are for work among their own people.\n\"They shall be saved even as we.\" They have a strong sense of and\nacquiescence in, their own inferiority. If we treat them as inferiors,\nthey will always remain in that position of inferiority.\n\n'But Christ humbled Himself and became the servant and minister that He\nmight make us children of God and exalt us.\n\n'It is surely very simple, but if we do thus live among them, they must\nnecessarily accept and adopt some of our habits. Our Lord led the life\nof a poor man, but He raised His disciples to the highest pitch of\nexcellence by His Life, His Words, and His Spirit, the highest that\nman could receive and follow. The analogy is surely a true one.\nAnd exclusiveness, all the pride of race must disappear before such\nconsiderations.\n\n'But it is not the less true that He did not make very small demands\nupon His disciples, and teach them and us that it needs but little\ncare and toil and preparation to be a Christian and a teacher of\nChristianity. The direct contrary to this is the truth.\n\n'The teacher's duty is to be always leading on his pupils to higher\nconceptions of their work in life, and to a more diligent performance\nof it. How can he do this if he himself acquiesces in a very imperfect\nknowledge and practice of his duty?\n\n'\"And yet the mass of mediaeval missionaries could perhaps scarce read.\"\nThat may be true, but that was not an excellence but a defect, and the\nmass of the gentry and nobility could not do so much. They did a great\nwork then. It does not follow that we are to imitate their ignorance\nwhen we can have knowledge.\n\n'But I am wasting your time and mine.\n\n'Yours very truly,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.\n\n'P.S.--George and his wife and child, Charles and his wife, Benjamin and\nhis wife, will live together at Mota on some land I have bought. A good\nwooden house is to be put up by us this winter (D.V.) with one large\nroom for common use, school, &c., and three small bed-rooms opening on\nto a verandah. One small bed-room at the other end which any one, two or\nthree of us English folks can occupy when at Mota. I dare say, first and\nlast, this house will cost seventy or eighty pounds.\n\n'Then we hope to have everything that can be sown and planted with\nprofit in a tropical climate, first-class breed of pigs, poultry, &c.,\nso that all the people may see that such things are not neglected. These\nthings will be given away freely-settings of eggs, young sows, seeds,\nplants, young trees, &c. All this involves expense, quite rightly too,\nand after all, I dare say that dear old George will cost about a sixth\nor an eighth of what we English clergymen think necessary. I dare say\n\u00a325 per annum will cover his expenses.'\n\n\nOn Easter Sunday the penitent was readmitted to the Lord's Table. A\nhappy letter followed:--\n\n\n'Easter Tuesday, 1869.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--Another opportunity of writing. I will only say a\nword about two things. First, our Easter and the Holy Week preceding\nit; secondly, how full my mind has been of Mr. Keble, on his two\nanniversaries, Holy Thursday and March 29. And I have read much of the\n\"Christian Year,\" and the two letters I had from him I have read again,\nand looked at the picture of him, and felt helped by the memory of his\nholy saintly life, and I dared to think that it might be that by God's\ngreat mercy in Christ, I might yet know him and other blessed Saints in\nthe Life to come.\n\n'Our Holy Week was a calm solemn season. All the services have long been\nin print. Day by day in school and chapel we followed the holy services\nand acts of each day, taking Ellicott's \"Historical Lectures\" as a\nguide.\n\n'Each evening I had my short sermonet, and we sought to deepen the\nimpressions made evidently upon our scholars by whatever could make it a\nreal matter of life and death to them and us. Then came Good Friday and\nEaster Eve, during which the Melanesians with Mr. Brooke were busily\nengaged in decorating the Chapel with fronds of tree-ferns, bamboo,\narums, and oleander blossoms.\n\n'Then, at 7 A.M. on Easter Morning, thirty of us--twenty-one, thank God,\nbeing Melanesians--met in Chapel for the true Easter Feast.\n\n'Then, at 11 A.M., how we chanted Psalms ii, cxiii, cxiv, and Hymn, and\nthe old Easter Hallelujah hymn to the old tune with Mota words. Then at\n7 P.M. Psalms cxviii, cxlviii, to joyful chants, and singing Easter and\nother hymns.\n\n'So yesterday and so to-day. The short Communion Service in the morning\nwith hymn, and in the evening we chant Psalm cxviii, and sing out our\nEaster hymn. Ah well! it makes my heart very full. It is the season of\nrefreshing, perhaps before more trails.\n\n'Dear U---- was with us again on Easter morn, a truly repentant young\nman, I verily believe, feeling deeply what in our country districts is\noften not counted a sin at all to be a foul offence against his Father\nand Saviour and Sanctifier.\n\n'Six were there for their first Communion, among them honest old Stephen\nTaroniara, the first and only communicant of all the Solomon Isles--of\nall the world west of Mota, or east of any of the Bishop of Labuan's\ncommunicants. Think of that! What a blessing! What a thought for praise\nand hope and meditation!\n\n'I sit in my verandah in the moonlight and I do feel happy in spite of\nmany thoughts of early days which may well make me feel unhappy.\n\n'But I do feel an almost overpowering sensation of thankfulness and\npeace and calm tranquil happiness, which I know cannot last long. It\nwould not, I suppose, be good: anyhow it will soon be broken by some\ntrial which may show much of my present state to be a delusion. Yet\nI like to tell you what I think, and I know you will keep it to\nyourselves.\n\n'Good-bye, and all Easter blessings be with you.\n\n'Your loving brother,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON '\n\n\nThe island voyage was coming near, and was to be conducted, on a larger\nscale, after the intermission of a whole year. Mr. Brooke was to make\nsome stay at Florida, Mr. Atkin at Wango in Bauro, and the Bishop\nhimself was to take the party who were to commence the Christian\nvillage at Mota, while Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice remained in charge\nof twenty-seven Melanesians. The reports of the effects of the labour\ntraffic were becoming a great anxiety, and not only the Fiji settlers,\nbut those in Queensland were becoming concerned in it.\n\nThe 'Southern Cross' arrived in June, but the weather was so bad that,\nknocking about outside the rocks, she sustained some damage, and could\nnot put her freight ashore for a week. However, on the 24th she sailed,\nand put down Mr. Atkin at Wango, the village in Bauro where the Bishop\nhad stayed two years previously.\n\nMr. Atkin gives a touching description of Taroniara's arrival:--\n\n'Stephen was not long in finding his little girl, Paraiteka. She was\nsoon in his arms. The old fellow just held her up for the Bishop to\nsee, and then turned away with her, and I saw a handkerchief come out\nprivately and brush quickly across his eyes, and in a few minutes he\ncame back to us.'\n\nThe little girl's mother, for whose sake Taroniara had once refused\nto return to school, had been carried off by a Maran man; and as the\nheathen connection had been so slight, and a proper marriage so entirely\nbeyond the ideas of the native state, it was thought advisable to leave\nthis as a thing of heathen darkness, and let him select a girl to be\neducated into becoming fit for his true wife.\n\nBesides Stephen, Joseph Wate and two other Christian lads were with Mr.\nAtkin, and he made an expedition of two days' visit to Wate's father. At\nUlava he found that dysentery had swept off nearly all the natives, and\nhe thought these races, even while left to themselves, were dying out.\n'But,' adds the brave man in his journal, 'I will never, I hope, allow\nthat because these people are dying out, it is of no use or a waste of\ntime carrying the Gospel to them. It is, I should rather say, a case\nwhere we ought to be the more anxious to gather up the fragments.'\n\nSo he worked on bravely, making it an object, if he could do no more, to\nteach enough to give new scholars a start in the school, and to see who\nwere most worth choosing there. He suffered a little loss of popularity\nwhen it was found that he was not a perpetual fountain of beads,\nhatchets, and tobacco, but he did the good work of effecting a\nreconciliation between Wango and another village named Hane, where he\nmade a visit, and heard a song in honour of Taroniara. He was invited\nto a great reconciliation feast; which he thus describes, beginning with\nhis walk to Hane by short marches:--\n\n'We waited where we overtook Taki, until the main body from Wango came\nup. They charged past in fine style, looking very well in their holiday\ndress, each with his left hand full of spears, and one brandished in the\nright. It looked much more like a fighting party than a peace party;\nbut it is the custom to make peace with the whole army, to convince the\nenemy that it is only for his accommodation that they are making peace,\nand not because they are afraid to fight him. It was about 12 o'clock\nwhen we reached the rendezvous. There was a fine charge of all, except\na dozen of the more sedate of the party; they rattled their spears, and\nran, and shouted, and jumped, even crossing the stream which was the\nneutral ground. We halted by the stream for some time; at last some Hane\npeople came to their side; there was a charge again almost up to them,\nbut they took it coolly. At about 10 o'clock the whole body of the Hane\nmen came, and two or three from Wango went across to them. I was tired\nof waiting, and asked Taki if I should go. \"Yes, and tell them to bring\nthe money,\" he said.\n\n'While I was wading through the stream, the Hane men gathered up and\nadvanced; I turned back with them. They rushed, brandishing their\nspears, to within ten or twelve paces of the Wango party, who had joined\ninto a compact body, and so seated themselves as soon as they saw the\nmovement.\n\n'Kara, a Hane man, made his speech, first running forwards and\nbackwards, shaking his spear all the time; and at the end, he took out\nfour strings of Makira money, and gave it to Taki. Hane went back across\nthe stream; and Wango went through the same performance, Taki making the\nspeech. He seemed a great orator, and went on until one standing by\nhim said, \"That's enough,\" when he laughed, and gave over. He gave four\nstrings of money, two shorter than the others, and the shortest was\nreturned to him, I don't know why; but in this way the peace was\nsigned.'\n\nAfter nineteen days, during which the Bishop had been cruising about,\nMr. Atkin and his scholars were picked up again, and likewise Mr.\nBrooke, who had been spending ten days at Florida with his scholars,\nin all thirty-five; and then ensued a very tedious passage to the\nBanks Islands, for the vessel had been crippled by the gale off Norfolk\nIsland, and could not be pressed; little canvas was carried, and the\nweather was unfavourable.\n\nHowever, on September 6, Mota was safely reached; and great was the joy,\nwarm the welcome of the natives, who eagerly assisted in unloading the\nvessel, through storms of rain and surf.\n\nThe old station house was in entire decay; but the orange and lemon\ntrees were thirty feet high, though only the latter in bearing.\n\nThe new village, it was agreed, should bear the name of Kohimarama,\nafter the old home in New Zealand, meaning, in Maori, 'Focus of Light.'\nAfter landing the goats, the Bishop, Mr. Atkin, and five more crossed\nto Valua. They were warmly welcomed at Ara, where their long absence\nhad made the natives fancy they must all be dead. The parents of Henry,\nLydia, and Edwin were the first to approach the boat, eager to hear\nof their children left in Norfolk Island; and the mother walked up the\nbeach with her arm round Mr. Atkin's neck. But here it appeared that the\nvessels of the labour traffic had come to obtain people to work in the\ncotton plantations in Queensland, and that they had already begun to\ninvite them in the name of the Bishop, whose absence they accounted for\nby saying his ship had been wrecked, he had broken his leg, he had gone\nto England, and sent them to fetch natives to him. No force had been\nused as yet, but there was evident dread of them; and one vessel had\na Mota man on board, who persuaded the people to go to Sydney. About\na hundred natives had been taken from the islands of Valua, Ara, and\nMatlavo, and from Bligh Island twenty-three were just gone, but Mota's\ninaccessibility had apparently protected it. It will be remembered that\nit has a high fortification of coral all round the beach, with but one\ninconvenient entrance, and that the people are little apt to resort to\ncanoes. This really has hitherto seemed a special Providence for this\nnucleus of Christianity.\n\nThey spent the night at Ara, making a fire on the sandy beach, where\nthey boiled their chocolate, and made gravy of some extract of meat\nto season their yam, and supped in public by firelight, reclining upon\nmats. Afterwards they went up to the Ogamal, or barrack tent: it was not\nan inviting bed-chamber, being so low that they could only kneel upright\nin it, and so smoky that Stephen remarked, 'We shall be cooked ourselves\nif we stay here,' proving an advance in civilisation. One of the private\nhouses was equally unattractive, and the party slept on the beach.\n\nThe next morning they started to walk round the island: taking two cork\nbeds, a portmanteau and a basket of provisions; stopping wherever a few\npeople were found, but it was a thinly peopled place, and the loss of\nthe men carried off was sensibly felt.\n\nOne village had had a fight with a boat's crew from Sydney. They made no\nsecret of it, saying that they would not have their men taken away; and\nthey had been sharp enough to pour water into the guns before provoking\nthe quarrel.\n\nFurther on there was a closer population, where the Bishop was\nenthusiastically welcomed, and an Ogamal was found, making a good\nshelter for the night. Then they returned to Ara, where Mr. Atkin notes,\nin the very centre of the island, a curious rock, about 200 feet high,\nand on the top, 20 or 30 feet from the nearest visible soil, a she-oak\nstump, and two more green and flourishing a little below. The rock was\nof black scoriae, too hot in the middle of the day to sit upon, and near\nit was a pool of water. 'Such water, so rotten.' The water used by the\nvisitors had been brought from Auckland. The natives do not trouble\nwater much, I don't think they ever drink it, and they certainly don't\nlook as if they ever washed.\n\nOn the following day they recrossed to Vanua Lava, where they spent a\nquiet calm Sunday in the vessel, landing in the afternoon to see Fisher\nYoung's grave, which they found well kept and covered with a pretty blue\ncreeper.\n\nThe next Sunday they spent at Kohimarama: beginning with Celebration at\n7.30 A.M., and in the afternoon making the circuit of the island, about\nten miles. In one place Mr. Atkin bent over the edge of the natural sea\nwall, and saw the sea breaking 150 or 200 feet below!\n\nAfter a fortnight spent in this manner, he and the other two clergymen\ncarried off their Melanesians to Norfolk Island, leaving the Bishop to\nbe fetched away in a month's time. Here is the letter written during his\nsolitude:--\n\n\n'Kohimarama, Mota Island: September 23, 1869.\n\n'My dearest Joan and Fan,--Here I am sitting in a most comfortable house\nin our new Kohimarama, for so the Melanesians determine to call our\nstation in Mota. The house is 48 feet by 18, with a 9-foot verandah on\ntwo sides. It has one large room, a partition at each end, one of which\nis subdivided into two small sleeping rooms for George and his wife,\nand Charles and his wife. There is no ceiling, so that we have the full\nadvantage of the height of the house, and plenty of ventilation, as\nthe space beyond where the roof comes down upon the wall plates is left\nopen.\n\n'The verandah is a grand lounging place; very commodious for school\nalso, when other classes fill the large room, and a delightful place to\nsit or lie about on in this genial warm climate. These bright moonlight\nnights are indeed delicious. The mosquito gives no trouble here to speak\nof. The cocoa-nut trees, the bread-fruit trees, yam gardens, and many\nkinds of native trees and shrubs, are all around us; the fine wooded\nhill of Mota shows well over the house. The breeze always plays round\nit; and though it is very hot, it is only when the wind comes from\nthe north and north-west, as in the midsummer, that the heat is of an\noppressive and sickly nature.\n\n'About twenty lads and young men live here, and about forty attend daily\nschool; but I think there is every indication of all Mota sending its\nyoung people here as soon as we have our crops of yams, &c., &c., to\nprovide sufficient food. Improved native huts will, I think, soon be\nbuilt over our little estate here.\n\n'Many girls I hope to take to Norfolk Island. They could hardly be\nbrought together with safety to this place yet. The parents see and\nadmit this, and consent to my taking them. I tell them that their sons\nwill not marry ignorant heathen girls (their sons I mean who have\nbeen and are still with us); that all the young fellows growing up at\nKohimarama must have educated wives provided for them, and that I must\ntherefore take away many young girls with me to Norfolk Island. The\nfashion here is to buy at an early age young girls for their sons,\nthough occasionally a girl may be found not already betrothed, but\nalmost grown up. I now say, \"I want to train up wives for my sons,\" and\nthe fashion of the place allows of my buying or appropriating them. You\nwould be amused to see me engaged in this match-making. It is all the\nsame a very important matter, for clearly it is the best way to secure,\nas I trust, the introduction of Christian family life among these\npeople.\n\n'George and I are satisfied that things are really very promising here.\nOf course, much old heathen ignorance, and much that is very wrong, will\nlong survive. So you recollect perhaps old Joe (great-Uncle Edward's\ncoachman) declaring that C. S. as a witch, and there is little proof of\npractical Christianity in the morals of our peasants of the west, and of\nWales especially.\n\n'It is not that one should acquiesce in what is wrong here, but one\nought not to be surprised at it. Public opinion, the constraint of law,\nhereditary notions, are more effective in preventing the outbreak of\nevil passions into criminal acts in very many cases and districts in\nEngland.\n\n'Now these restraints are, indeed, indirect consequences of\nChristianity, but do not imply any religion in the individuals who are\ninfluenced by them. These restraints don't exist here. If they did, I\nthink these Mota people now would live just as orderly decent lives as\naverage English folk. Christianity would not be a vigorous power in the\none case or in the other. Exceptional cases would occur here and there.\n\n'If I am asked for proofs of the \"conversion\" of this people, I should\nsay, \"Conversion from what to what?\" and then I should say, \"Ask any\nclose observer in England about the commercial and social morality\nexisting in not only the most ignorant ranks of society: how much is\nmerely formal, and therefore, perhaps, actually detrimental to a true\nspirit of religion!\" Here you don't find much that you associate with\nreligion in England, in the external observances of it; but there are\nnot a few ignorant people (I am not speaking of our trained scholars)\nwho are giving up their old habits, adopting new ways, accepting a\nstricter mode of life, foregoing advantages of one kind and another,\nbecause they believe that this \"Good news,\" this Gospel, is true, and\nbecause the simple truths of Christianity are, thank God, finding some\nentrance into their hearts.\n\n'I dread the imposition from without of some formal compliances with the\nexternals of religion while I know that the meaning and spirit of\nthem cannot as yet be understood. Can there be conceived anything more\nformal, more mischievous, than inculcating a rigid Sabbatarian view of\nthe Lord's Day upon a people who don't know anything about the Cross\nand the Resurrection? Time enough to talk about the observance when\nthe people have some knowledge of the vital living truth of a spiritual\nreligion.\n\n'So about clothing. If I tried to do it, I think I could make the people\nhere buy, certainly accept, and wear, clothing. With what result at\npresent? That they would think that wearing a yard of unbleached calico\nwas a real evidence of the reception of the new teaching.\n\n'Such things are, in this stage of Mission work, actually hurtful. The\nmind naturally takes in and accepts the easy outward form, and by such\ntreatment you actually encourage it to do so, and to save itself the\ntrouble of thinking out the real meaning and teaching which must of\ncourse be addressed to the spirit.\n\n'These outward things all follow as a matter of course after a time, as\nconsequences of the new power and light felt in the soul; but they may\nbe so spoken of as to become substitutes for the true spiritual life,\nand train up a people in hypocrisy.\n\n'I beg your pardon really for parading all these truisms. Throw it in\nthe fire.\n\n'I don't for a moment mean or think that religion is to be taught by\nmere prudence and common sense. But a spiritual religion is imperilled\nthe moment that you insist upon an unspiritual people observing outward\nforms which are to them the essence of the new teaching. Anything\nbetter than turning heathens into Pharisees! What did our Lord call the\nproselytes of the Pharisee and the Scribe?\n\n'And while I see and love the beauty of the outward form when it is\nknown and felt to be no more than the shrine of the inward spiritual\npower; while I know that for highly advanced Christians, or for persons\ntrained in accurate habits of thought, all that beauty of holiness is\nneedful; yet I think I see that the Divine wisdom of the Gospel would\nguard the teacher against presenting the formal side of religion to the\nuntaught and ignorant convert. \"God is a Spirit, and they that worship\nHim must worship Him in spirit and in truth,\" is the great lesson for\nthe heathen mind chained down as it is to things of sense.\n\n'\"He that hateth his brother is a murderer:\" not the outward act, but\nthe inward motive justifies or condemns the man. Every day convinces\nme more and more of the need of a different mode of teaching than\nthat usually adopted for imperfectly taught people. How many of your\n(ordinary) parishioners even understand the simple meaning of the\nPrayer-book, nay, of their well-known (as they think) Gospel miracles\nand parables? Who teaches in ordinary parishes the Christian use of the\nPsalms? Who puts simply before peasant and stone-cutter the Jew and his\nreligion, and what he and it were intended to be, and the real error and\nsin and failure?--the true nature of prophecy, the progressive teaching\nof the Bible, never in any age compromising truth, but never ignoring\nthe state, so often the unreceptive state, of those to whom the truth\nmust therefore be presented partially, and in a manner adapted to rude\nand unspiritual natures? What an amount of preparatory teaching is\nneeded! What labour must be spent in struggling to bring forth things\nnew and old, and present things simply before the indolent, unthinking,\nvacant mind! How much need there is of a more special training of the\nClergy even now! Many men are striving nobly to do all this. But think\nof the rubbish that most of us chuck lazily out of our minds twice a\nweek without method or order. It is such downright hard work to teach\nwell. Oh! how weary it makes me to try. I feel as if I were at once\naware of what should be attempted, and yet quite unable to do it!\n\n'St. Michael's Day.--[After an affectionate review of most of his\nrelations at home.]--When the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn pressed me a good\ndeal to go with them to England, it obliged me a little to analyse my\nfeelings. You won't suspect me of any want of longing to see you, when\nI say that it never was a doubtful matter to me for five minutes. I saw\nnothing to make me wish to go to England in comparison with the crowd\nof reasons for not doing so. They, good people, thought it would be rest\nand refreshment to me. Little they know how a man so unlike them takes\nhis rest! I am getting it here, hundreds of miles out of reach of any\nwhite man or woman, free from what is to me the bother of society. I am\nnot defending myself; but it is true that to me it is a bore, the very\nopposite of rest, to be in society. I like a good talk with Sir William\nMartin above anything, but I declare that even that is dearly purchased\nby the other accompaniments of society.\n\n'And I could not spend a quiet month with you at Weston. I should have\npeople calling, the greatest of all nuisances, except that of having\nto go out to dinner. I should have to preach, and perhaps to go to\nmeetings, all in the way of my business, but not tending to promote\nrest.\n\n'Seriously, I am very well now; looking, I am sure, and feeling stronger\nand stouter than I was in New Zealand in the winter. So don't fret\nyourself about me, and don't think that I shouldn't dearly love to chat\nawhile with you. What an idle, lazy letter. You see I am taking my rest\nwith you, writing without effort.'\n\nHe was looking well. Kohimarama must be more healthily situated than the\nfirst station, for all his three visits there were beneficial to him;\nand there seems to have been none of the tendency to ague and low fever\nwhich had been the trouble of the first abode.\n\nMr. Codrington and Mr. Bice came back in the schooner early in October,\nand were landed at Mota, while the Bishop went for a cruise in the New\nHebrides; but the lateness of the season and the state of the vessel\nmade it a short one, and he soon came back with thirty-five boys.\nMeanwhile, a small harmonium, which was to be left with the Christian\nsettlement, had caused such an excitement that Mr. Bice was nearly\nsqueezed to death by the crowds that came to hear it. He played nearly\nall day to successive throngs of men, but when the women arrived, they\nmade such a clatter that he was fain to close the instrument. Unbleached\ncalico clothing had been made for such of the young ladies as were to be\ntaken on board for Norfolk Island, cut out by the Bishop and made up by\nRobert, William, and Benjamin, his scholars; and Mr. Codrington says,\n'It was an odd sight to see the Bishop on the beach with the group of\ngirls round him, and a number of garments over his arm. As each bride\nwas brought by her friends, she was clothed and added to the group.\n\n'Esthetically, clothes were no improvement. \"A Melanesian clothed,\"\nthe Bishop observes, \"never looks well; there is almost always a stiff,\nshabby-genteel look. A good specimen, not disfigured by sores and\nulcers, the well-shaped form, the rich warm colour of the skin, and\nthe easy, graceful play of every limb, unhurt by shoe or tight-fitting\ndress, the flower stuck naturally into the hair, &c., make them look\npleasant enough to my eye. You see in Picture Bibles figures draped as I\ncould wish the Melanesians to be clothed.\"'\n\nTo continue Mr. Codrington's recollections of this stay in Mota:--\n\n'I remember noticing how different his manner was from what was common\nat home. His eyes were cast all about him, keeping a sharp look-out, and\nall his movements and tones were quick and decisive. In that steaming\nclimate, and those narrow paths, he walked faster than was at all\nagreeable to his companions, and was dressed moreover in a woollen coat\nand waistcoat all the time. In fact, he thoroughly enjoyed the heat,\nthough no doubt it was weakening him; he liked the food, which gave him\nno trouble at all to eat, and he liked the natives.\n\n'He felt, of course, that he was doing his work all the while; but the\nexpression of his countenance was very different while sitting with a\nparty of men over their food at Mota, and when sitting with a party in\nNorfolk Island.\n\n'The contrast struck me very much between his recluse studious life\nthere, and his very active one at Mota, with almost no leisure to read,\nand very little to write, and with an abundance of society which was a\npleasure instead of a burthen.\n\n'I think that the alert and decisive tone and habit which was so\nconspicuous in the islands, and came out whenever he was roused, was not\nnatural to his disposition, but had been acquired in early years in a\npublic school, and faded down in the quiet routine of St. Barnabas, and\nwas recalled as occasion required with more effort as time went on. No\ndoubt, his habitual gentleness made his occasional severity more felt,\nbut at Mota his capacity for scolding was held in respect. I was told\nwhen I was last there, that I was no good, for I did not know how to\nscold, but that the Bishop perfectly well understood how to do it.\nWords certainly would never fail him in twenty languages to express his\nindignation, but how seldom among his own scholars had he to do it in\none!'\n\nThis voyage is best summed up in the ensuing letter to one of the\nNorfolk relations:--\n\n\n'\"Southern Cross\" Schooner, 20 miles East of Star Island.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--We are drawing near the end of a rather long cruise,\nas I trust, in safety. We left Norfolk Island on the 24th June, and we\nhope to reach it in about ten days. We should have moved about in less\ntime, but for the crippled state of the schooner. She fell in with a\nheavy gale off Norfolk Island about June 20th-23rd; and we have been\nobliged to be very careful of our spars, which were much strained.\nIndeed, we still need a new mainmast, main boom, and gaff, a main\ntopmast, foretopmast, and probably new wire rigging, besides repairs of\nother kinds, and possibly new coppering. Thank God, the voyage has been\nso far safe, and, on the whole, prosperous. We sailed first of all to\nthe Banks Islands, only dropping two lads at Ambrym Island on our way.\nWe spent a week or more at Mota, while the vessel was being overhauled\nat the harbour in Vanua Lava Island, seven miles from Mota. It was a\ngreat relief to us to get the house for the station at Mota out of the\nvessel, the weight of timber, &c., was too much for a vessel not built\nfor carrying freight. After a few days we left Mr. Palmer, George\nSarawia, and others at Mota, busily engaged in putting up the house, a\nvery serious matter for us, as you may suppose.\n\n'Our party was made up of Mr. Atkin, Mr. Brooke, and two Mota volunteers\nfor boat work, and divers Solomon Islanders. We were absent from Mota\nabout seven years, during which time we visited Santa Cruz, and many of\nthe Solomon Isles. Mr. Atkin spent three weeks in one of the isles,\nand Mr. Brooke in another, and we had more than thirty natives of the\nSolomon Islands on board, including old scholars, when we left Ulava,\nthe last island of the Solomon group at which we called.\n\n'Mr. Palmer, Mr. Atkin, and Mr. Brooke went on to Norfolk Island, the\nwhole number of Melanesians on board being sixty-two. I had spent a very\nhappy month at Mota when the vessel returned from Norfolk Island\nboth with Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice on board, bringing those of the\nMelanesians (nearly thirty in all) who chose to stay on Norfolk Island.\nThen followed a fortnight's cruise in the New Hebrides, and now with\nexactly fifty Melanesians on board from divers islands, we are on our\nway to Norfolk Island. We have fourteen girls, two married, on board,\nand there are ten already at Norfolk Island. This is an unusual number;\nbut the people understand that the young men and lads who have been\nwith us for some time, who are baptized and accustomed to decent orderly\nways, are not going to marry heathen wild girls, so they give up these\nyoung ones to be taught and qualify to become fit wives for our rapidly\nincreasing party of young men.\n\n'It is quite clear that we must aim at exhibiting, by God's blessing,\nChristian family life in the islands, and this can only be done by\ntraining up young men and women.\n\n'Three married couples, all Communicants, live now at Kohimarama, the\nstation at Mota. George has two children, Benjamin one. It is already\na small specimen of a little Christian community, and it must be\nreinforced, year by year, by accessions of new couples of Christian men\nand women.\n\n'About twenty lads live at the station, and about forty more come daily\nto school. It may grow soon into a real working school, from which the\nmost intelligent and best conducted boys may be taken to Norfolk Island\nfor a more complete education. I am hopeful about a real improvement in\nMota and elsewhere.\n\n'But a new difficulty has lately been caused by the traders from Sydney\nand elsewhere, who have taken many people to work in the plantations\nat Brisbane, Mimea, (New Caledonia), and the Fiji Islands, actual\nkidnapping, and this is a sad hindrance to us. I know of no case of\nactual violence in the Banks Islands; but in every case, they took\npeople away under false pretences, asserting that \"the Bishop is ill\nand can't come; he has sent us to bring you to him.\" \"The Bishop is in\nSydney, he broke his leg getting into his boat, and has sent us to take\nyou to him,\" &c., &c. In many of these places some of our old scholars\nare found who speak a little English, and the traders communicated with\nthem.\n\n'In most places where any of our young people happened to be on shore,\nthey warned their companions against these men, but not always with\nsuccess. Hindrances there must be always in the way of all attempts to\ndo some good. But this is a sad business, and very discreditable to the\npersons employed in it and the Government which sanctions it, for they\nmust know that they cannot control the masters of the vessels engaged\nin the trade; they may pass laws as to the treatment the natives are to\nreceive on the plantations, as to food, pay, &c., the time of service,\nthe date of their being taken home, but they know that the whole thing\nis dishonest. The natives don't intend or know anything about any\nservice or labour; they don't know that they will have to work hard, and\nany regular steady work is hard work to South Sea Islanders. They are\nbrought away under false pretences, else why tell lies to induce them to\ngo on board?\n\n'I dare say that many young fellows go on board without much persuasion.\nMany causes may be at work to induce them to do so, e.g., sickness in\nthe island, quarrels, love of excitement, spirit of enterprise, &c., but\nif they knew what they were taken for, I don't think they would go.\n\n'November 2nd.--In sight of Norfolk Island. All well on board.\n\n'November 6th.--Yesterday we all landed safely, and found our whole\nparty quite well. Our new hall is finished, and in good time to receive\n134 Melanesians.'\n\nBefore the full accumulation of letters arrived from Auckland, a report\nby a passing ship from Sydney stirred the hermit Bishop deeply, and\nelicited the following warm congratulation:--\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: November 17, 1869.\n\n'My dear Dr. Moberly,--Since my return--a fortnight since--from the\nislands a rumour has reached us, brought hither in a small trader, that\nthe Bishop of Winchester has resigned his see, and that you are his\nsuccessor. It is almost too good to be true. I am waiting with great\nanxiety for a vessel expected soon; I have had no English news since\nletters of April. But in all seriousness, private news is of small\nmoment compared with the news of what is to become of that great\nDiocese. And especially now, when almost all the south of England is so\nsadly in want of officers to command the Church's army. Exeter, Bath and\nWells, Salisbury, Chichester (very old), and till now (if this rumour be\ntrue) Winchester, from old age or sickness almost, if not quite, unfit\nfor work. If indeed I hear that God's Providence has placed you in\ncharge of that great see, it will give a different hue to the prospect,\ndreary enough, I confess, to me; though I hope I am mistaken in my\ngloomy forebodings of the results of all those many Dioceses being\nso long without active Bishops. Salisbury of course I except, and\nChichester is a small Diocese comparatively, and the good Bishop, I\nknow, works up to the maximum of his age and strength. But if this be a\ntrue rumour, and I do sincerely trust and pray that it may be so, indeed\nit will give hope and courage and fresh life and power to many and many\na fainting soul. If I may presume to say so, it is (as Mrs. Selwyn wrote\nto me when he was appointed to Lichfield) \"a solemn and anxious thing\nto undertake a great charge on the top of such great expectations.\" But\nalready there is one out here anyhow who feels cheered and strengthened\nby the mere hope that this story is true; and everywhere many anxious\nmen and women will lift up their hearts to God in thankfulness, and in\nearnest prayers that you may indeed do a great work to His glory and to\nthe good of His Church in a new and even greater sphere of usefulness.\nNo doubt much of my thoughts and apprehensions about the religious and\nsocial state of England is very erroneous. I have but little time\nfor reading about what is going on, and though I have the blessing of\nCodrington's good sense and ability, yet I should like to have more\npersons to learn from on such matters. I am willing and anxious to\nbelieve that I am not cheerful and faithful enough to see the bright\nside as clearly as I ought. Your letters have always been a very great\nhelp to me; not only a great pleasure, much more than a pleasure. I felt\nthat I accepted, occasionally even that I had anticipated, your remarks\non the questions of the day, the conduct of parties and public men,\nbooks, &c. It has been a great thing for me to have my thoughts guided\nor corrected in this way.\n\n'Your last present to me was your volume of \"Bampton Lectures,\" of which\nI need not say how both the subject and the mode of treating it make\nthem especially valuable just now. And there is a strong personal\nfeeling about the work and writings of one where the public man is\nalso the private friend, which gives a special zest to the enjoyment of\nreading a work of this kind.\n\n'Certainly it is one of the many blessings of my life that I should\nsomehow have been allowed to grow into this degree of intimacy with you,\nwhom I have always known by name, though I don't remember ever to have\nseen you. I think I first as a child became familiar with your name\nthrough good Miss Rennell, whom I dare say you remember: the old Dean's\ndaughter. What a joy this would have been to dear Mr. and Mrs. Keble;\nwhat a joy it is to Charlotte Yonge; and there may be others close to\nWinchester whose lives have been closely bound tip with yours.\n\n'But, humanly speaking, the thing is to have Bishops who can command the\nrespect and love and dutiful obedience of their clergy and laity alike.\n\n'One wants men who, by solid learning, and by acquaintance too with\nmodern modes of criticism and speculation, by scholarship, force of\ncharacter, largeness of mind, as well as by their goodness, can secure\nrespect and exercise authority. It is the lawlessness of men that\none deplores; the presumption of individual priests striking out for\nthemselves unauthorised ways of managing their parishes and officiating\nin their churches. And, if I may dare to touch on such a subject, is\nthere not a mode of speaking and writing on the Holy Eucharist prevalent\namong some men now, which has no parallel in the Church of England,\nexcept, it may be, in some of the non-jurors, and which does not express\nthe Church of England's mind; which is not the language of Pearson, and\nJackson, and Waterland, and Hooker, no, nor of Bull, and Andrewes, and\nTaylor, &c.? I know very little of such things--very little indeed.\nBut it is oftentimes a sad grief to me that I cannot accept some of the\nreasonings and opinions of dear Mr. Keble in his book on \"Eucharistic\nAdoration.\" I know that I have no right to expect to see things as such\na man saw them: that most probably the instinctive power of discerning\ntruth--the reward of a holy life from early childhood--guided him where\nmen without such power feel all astray. But yet, there is something\nabout the book which may be quite right and true, but does not to me\nquite savour of the healthy sound theology of the Church of England;\nthe fragrance is rather that of an exotic plant; here and there I\nmean--though I feel angry with myself for daring to think this, and to\nsay it to you, who can understand him.\n\n'November 27th.--I leave this as I wrote it, though now I know from our\nmails, which have come to us, that you are Bishop of Salisbury, not\nof Winchester. I hardly stop to think whether it is Winchester or\nSalisbury, so great is my thankfulness and joy at the report being\nsubstantially true. Though it did seem that Winchester was a natural\nsphere for you, I can't help feeling that at Salisbury you can do (D.V.)\nwhat perhaps scarcely any one else could do. And now I rejoice that you\nhave had the opportunity of speaking with no uncertain sound in your\n\"Bampton Lectures.\" Anyone can tell what the Bishop of Salisbury holds\non the great questions of Church Doctrine and Church Government. The\ndiocese knows already its Bishop, not only by many former but by his\nlatest book. Surely you will have the confidence of all Churchmen, and\nbe blessed to do a great work for the glory of God and the edification\nof the Church.\n\n'And now, my dear Bishop of Salisbury, you will excuse my writing on\nso freely, too freely I fear. I do like to think of you in that most\nperfect of Cathedrals. I hope and trust that you will have ere long,\nright good fellow-workers in Exeter, Winton, and Bath and Wells.\n\n'But in the colonies you have a congeries of men from all countries, and\nwith every variety of creed, jumbled up together, with nothing whatever\nto hold them together--no reverence--no thoughts of the old parish\nchurch, &c. They are restless, worldly people to a great extent,\nthinking of getting on, making money. To such men the very idea of the\nChurch as a Divine Institution, the mystical Body of the Lord, on which\nall graces are bestowed, and through whose ministrations men are trained\nin holiness and truth, is wholly unknown. The personal religion of many\na man is sincere; his position and duty as a Churchman he has never\nthought about. I wish the clergy would master that part, at all events,\nof your Lectures which deals with this great fundamental point, and\nthen, as they have opportunity, teach it to their people. And by-and-by,\nthrough the collective life of the Church in its synods, &c., many will\ncome to see it, we may hope.\n\n'I think that I may give you a cheering account of ourselves. I was\nnineteen weeks in the islands--met with no adventures worth mentioning,\nonly one little affair which was rather critical for a few minutes, but\nended very well--and in some of the Solomon Islands made more way than\nheretofore with the people. We have 134 Melanesians here and a baby.\nGeorge Sarawia and his wife and two children, and two other married\ncouples--all Communicants--are at Mota, in a nice place, with some\ntwenty-two lads \"boarding\" with them, and about thirty more coming to\ndaily school.\n\n'The vessel was much knocked about in a violent gale in June off Norfolk\nIsland, and we had to handle her very carefully. The whole voyage was\nmade with a mainmast badly sprung, and fore topmast very shaky. Mr.\nTilly was very watchful over the spars, and though we had a large share\nof squally weather, and for some days, at different times, were becalmed\nin a heavy swell, the most trying of all situations to the gear of a\nvessel, yet, thank God, all went well, and I have heard of the schooner\nsafe in Auckland harbour. About forty of our Melanesians here are\nSolomon Islanders, from seven different islands; a few came from the New\nHebrides, the rest from the Banks Islands. We are already pretty well\nsettled down to our work. Indeed, it took only a day or two to get\nto work; our old scholars are such great helpers to us. We number six\nclergymen here (G. Sarawia being at Mota). Ten or twelve of the sixth\nform are teachers. If you care to hear more; I must refer you to a\nletter just written to Miss Yonge. But it is not easy to write details\nabout 134 young people. Their temptations are very great when they\nreturn to their islands; every inducement to profligacy, &c., is held\nout to them. One of our young baptized lads fell into sinful ways, and\nis not now with us. He was not one of whom we had great expectations,\nthough we trusted that he would go on steadily. Many others, thank God,\nwere kept pure and truthful in the midst of it all, refusing even to\nsleep one night away from our little hut, and in some cases refusing\neven to leave the schooner. \"No, I will wait till I am married,\" said\ntwo lads to me, who were married here to Christian girls on November\n24th, \"and then go ashore for a time with my young wife. I don't think\nI should yield, but I don't want to put myself in the way of such\ntemptations.\" And so, when I had naturally expected that they would take\ntheir six weeks' holiday on shore, while the \"Southern Cross\" went from\nMota to Norfolk Island and back (during my stay at Mota), they remained\non board, rejoining me, as they were two of my boating crew, for the\nNew Hebrides trip! This was very comforting. And when I married three\ncouples on November 24th, and knew that they were pure, youths and girls\nalike, from the great sin of heathenism, you can well think that my\nheart was very full of thankfulness and hope.\n\n'I must end my long letter. How will you find time to read it? Send me\nsome day a photograph of your beautiful Cathedral.\n\n'Yours very faithfully,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nBefore the letter to which Bishop Moberly is referred, Mr. Codrington's\nbit about the weddings seems appropriate:--\n\n'These wedding days were great festivals, especially before many had\nbeen seen. The Chapel was dressed with flowers, the wedding party in\nas new and cheerful attire as could be procured, the English Marriage\nService translated into Mota. We make rings out of sixpences or\nthreepenny bits. The place before is full of the sound of the hammer\ntapping the silver on the marlingspike. The wedding ceremony is\nperformed with as much solemnity as possible, all the school present in\ntheir new clothes and with flowers in their hair. There is even a kind\nof processional Psalm as the wedding party enters the Chapel. There is\nof course a holiday, and after the service they all go off, taking with\nthem the pig that has been killed for the feast. An enormous quantity of\nplum pudding awaits them when, in the evening, they come back to prayers\nand supper. Rounds of hearty cheers, led off by the Bishop, used\nto complete the day. Weddings of this kind between old scholars,\nchristened, confirmed, and trustworthy, represented much anxiety and\nmuch teaching and expense, but they promise so much, and that so near of\nwhat has been worked for, that they have brought with them extraordinary\npleasure and satisfaction.'\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: November 24, 1869.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--To-day we married three young couples: the\nbridegrooms. Robert Pantatun, William Pasvorang, and Marsden Sawa, who\nhave been many years with us, and are all Communicants; the brides,\nEmily Milerauwe, Lydia Lastitia, and Rhoda Titrakrauwe, who were\nbaptized a year ago.\n\n'The Chapel was very prettily dressed up with lilies and many other\nflowers. The bridegrooms wore white trousers, shirts, &c., the brides\nwore pretty simple dresses and flowers in their hair. We crowded as many\npersons as possible into our little Chapel. Mr. Nobbs and some ten\nor twelve of our Pitcairn friends were all the visitors that we could\nmanage to make room for.\n\n'Great festivities followed, a large pig was killed yesterday and eaten\nto-day, and Mr. Palmer had manufactured puddings without end, a new kind\nof food to many of the present set of scholars, but highly appreciated\nby most of them. Then followed in the evening native dances and songs,\nand a supper to end with, with cheers for the brides and bridegrooms.\n\n'There are now six married couples here, three more at Mota, and one or\ntwo more weddings will take place soon. Very fortunately, a vessel came\nfrom Auckland only three or four days ago, the first since the \"Southern\nCross,\" in June, It brought not only five mails for us English folk,\nbut endless packages and boxes for the Mission, ordered by us long ago,\nstores, clothing, &c. We had all ordered more or less in the way of\npresents for scholars, and though we keep most of these treasures for\nChristmas gifts, yet some are distributed now.\n\n'These presents are for the most part really good things. It is quite\nuseless for kind friends to send presents to Melanesians as they would\ndo to an English lad or girl. To begin with, most of our scholars are\ngrown up, and are more like English young people of twenty or eighteen\nyears old than like boys and girls, and not a few are older still; and\nsecondly, no Melanesian, old or young, cares a rush about a toy. They,\nboys and girls, men and women, take a practical view of a present, and\nare the very reverse of sentimental about it, though they really do like\na photograph of a friend. But a mere Brummagem article that won't stand\nwear is quite valueless in their eyes.\n\n'Whatever is given them, cheap or dear, is estimated according to its\nusefulness; and whatever is given, though it may cost but a shilling,\nmust be good of its kind. For example, a rough-handled, single-bladed\nknife, bought for a shilling, they fully appreciate; but a knife with\nhalf-a-dozen blades, bought for eighteen-pence, they would almost throw\naway. And so about everything else. I mention this as a hint to kind\nfriends. They do like to hear that people think of them and are kind to\nthem, but they don't understand why useless things should be sent from\nthe other end of the world when they could buy much better things with\ntheir own money out of the mission store here.\n\n'They are very fond of anything in the way of notebooks, 8vo and 12mo\nsizes (good paper), writing-cases (which must be good if given at all),\npatent safety inkstands--these things are useful on board ship, and can\nbe carried to the islands and brought back again safely. Work-baskets\nor boxes for the girls, with good serviceable needles, pins, thread,\nscissors, thimbles, tapes, &c. &c., not a plaything. Here we can buy for\nthem, or keep in the store for them to buy, many things that are much\ntoo bulky to send from a distance, the freight would be ruinous. The\n\"Southern Cross\" brings them usually to us. Such things I mean as good\ncarpet-bags, from 5s. to 10s., stout tin boxes with locks and keys,\naxes, tools, straw hats, saucepans, good strong stuff (tweed or\nmoleskin) for trousers and shirts, which they cut out and make up for\nthemselves, quite understanding the inferior character of \"slop\" work,\ngood flannel for under-shirts, or for making up into Crimean shirts,\nNottingham drill, good towelling, huckaback, &c., ought to be\nworth while to send out, and if bought in large quantities at the\nmanufacturer's, it would pay us to get it in England, especially if the\nsaid manufacturer reduced the price a little in consequence of the use\nto be made of his goods.\n\n'Dull small blue beads are always useful, ditto red. Bright glittering\nones are no use, few Melanesians would take them as a gift. Some\nislanders like large beads, as big or bigger than boys' marbles. These\nare some hints to any kind people who may wish to contribute in kind\nrather than in money.\n\n'Mr. Codrington has given these fellows a great taste for gardening.\nMuch of their spare hours (which are not many) are spent in digging up,\nfencing in and preparing little pieces of land close about the station,\ntwo or three lads generally making up a party, and frequently the party\nconsists of lads and young men from different islands. Then they have\npresents of seeds, cuttings, bulbs, &c., from Mr. Codrington chiefly,\nand Mrs. Palmer and others contribute. Some of these little gardens are\nreally very nicely laid out in good taste and well looked after. They\nhave an eye to the practically useful here too, as every garden has its\nstock of bananas, and here and there we see the sugar-cane too.\n\n'From 3.30 P.M. to 6 P.M. is the play time, although they do not all\nhave this time to themselves. For three lads must milk from 5 to 6, one\nor two must drive in the cows, seven or eight are in the kitchen, three\nor four must wash the horses, one must drive the sheep into the\nfold, all but the milkers have only their one week of these diverse\noccupations. There are about twelve head cooks, who choose their helpers\n(the whole school, minus the milkers and two or three overlookers, being\nincluded), and so the cooking work comes only once in twelve weeks. The\ncooks of the one week drive up the cows and water the horses the next\nweek, and then there is no extra work, that is, nothing but the\nregular daily work from 9.30 A.M. after school to 1 P.M. Wednesday is\na half-holiday, Saturday a whole holiday. There are six milkers, one of\nwhom is responsible for the whole. One receives 2s. 0d. per week, his\nchief mate 1s. 6d., and the other four 1s. each. They take it in turns,\nthree each week. This is the hardest work in one sense; it brings them\nin from their play and fishing, or gardening, &c., and so they are paid\nfor it. We do not approve of the white man being paid for everything,\nand the Melanesian being expected to work habitually extra hours for\nnothing. There are many other little extra occupations for which we take\ncare that those engaged in them shall have some reward, and as a\nmatter of fact a good deal of money finds its way into the hands of the\nstorekeeper, and a very fair amount of 3d., 4d. and 6d. pieces may be\nseen every Sunday in the offertory bason.\n\n'Perhaps I should say that we have seldom seen here any indications of\nthese Melanesians expecting money or presents; but we want to destroy\nthe idea in their minds of their being fags by nature, and to help them\nto have some proper self-respect and independence of character. We see\nvery little in them to make us apprehensive of their being covetous or\nstingy, and indisposed to give service freely.\n\n'School hours 8-9.20, 2-3.30, singing 7-8 P.M., chapel 6.45 A.M., 6.30\nP.M.\n\n'Of the 134 Melanesians, besides the baby, ten are teachers, and with\ntheir help we get on very fairly. There are sixteen of us teachers in\nall, so that the classes are not too large.\n\n'Mr. Codrington takes at present the elder Banks Islanders, Mr. Palmer\nthe next class, and Mr. Bice the youngest set of boys from the same\ngroup.\n\n'Mr. Atkin takes the Southern Solomon Islanders, and Mr. Brooke those\nfrom the northern parts of the same group. I have been taking some\nLeper's Islanders and Maiwo or Aurora Islanders as new comers, and other\nclasses occasionally.\n\n'Out of so many we shall weed out a good number no doubt. At present we\ndon't condemn any as hopelessly dull, but it will not be worth while to\nspend much time upon lads who in five months must go home for good, and\nsome such there must be; we cannot attempt to teach all, dull and clever\nalike. We must make selections, and in so doing often, I dare say, make\nmistakes. But what can we do?\n\n'Our new hall is a great success. We had all the framework sawn out\nhere; it is solid, almost massive work, very unlike the flimsy wooden\nbuildings that are run up in a week or two in most colonial villages.\nIt is so large that our party of 145, plus 9 English, sit in the aisles\nwithout occupying any part of the middle of the room. This gives us\nample accommodation for the present. Indeed we might increase our\nnumbers to 200 without any more buildings being necessary. The married\npeople give the most trouble in this respect, as they have their\nseparate rooms, and four or five married couples take up more room than\nthree times the number of single folk. However we have here room for\nall, I am thankful to say, though we must build again if more of our\nyoung people take it into their heads to be married. They pass on\nquickly, however, when married, into the next stage, the life in their\nown islands, and so they leave their quarters here for some successors.\n\n'I hope you can understand this attempt at a description, but I never\ncould write properly about such things, and never shall do so, I\nsuppose. I like the life, I know, a great deal better than I can write\nabout it. Indeed, it is a quiet restful life here, comparatively. Some\nanxieties always, of course, but, as compared with the distractions of\nNew Zealand life, it is pleasant indeed. We have very few interruptions\nhere to the regular employment of our time, and need not waste any of\nit in visits or small talk, which seems to be a necessary, though most\nwearisome part of civilised life.\n\n'Your namesake goes on well; not a clever girl, but very steady and\ngood; her sister and brother are here; the sisters are much alike\nin character and ability, the brother is sharper. You will, I know,\nspecially think of George Sarawia and his wife Sarah at Mota, with\nCharles and Ellen, Benjamin and Marion. They are all Communicants,\nbut the temptations which surround them are very great, and early\nfamiliarity with heathen practices and modes of thought may yet deaden\nthe conscience to the quick apprehension of the first approaches of sin.\nThey do indeed need the earnest prayers of all.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nHow many sons who have lost a mother at fifteen or sixteen dwell on the\nthought like this affectionate spirit, twenty-seven years later?\n\n\n'Advent Sunday, November 20, 1869.\n\n'It is a solemn thing to begin a new year on the anniversary of our dear\nMother's death. I often think whether she would approve of this or that\nopinion, action, &c. Wright's painting is pleasant to look upon. I stand\nin a corner of my room, at father's old mahogany desk. Her picture and\nhis, the large framed photographs from Richmond's drawing, and a good\nphotograph of the Bishop are just above. I wish you could see my room. I\nwrite now on December 3, a bright summer day, but my room with its\ndeep verandah is cool and shady. It is true that I refuse carpet and\ncurtains. They only hold dust and make the room fusty. But the whole\nroom is filled with books, and those pictures, and the Lionardo da Vinci\nover the fireplace, and Mr. Boxall's photograph over it, and his\ndrawing vis-a-vis to it at the other end of the room, and by my window a\nsplendid gloxinia with fine full flowers out in a very pretty porcelain\npot, both Mr. Codrington's gift. On another glass stand (also his\npresent) a Mota flower imported here, a brilliant scarlet hibiscus,\nand blossoms of my creepers and bignonia, most beautiful. So fresh\nand pretty. The steps of the verandah are a mass of honeysuckle. The\nstephanotis, with the beautiful scented white flowers and glossy leaves,\ncovers one of the posts. How pleasant it is. Everyone is kind, all are\nwell, all are going on well just now. Such are missionary comforts.\nWhere the hardships are I have not yet discovered. Your chain, dear\nJoan, is round my neck, and the locket (Mamma's) in which you, Fan, put\nthe hair of you five, hangs on it.\n\n'I am dipping my pen into the old silver inkstand which used to be in\nthe front drawing-room. Every morning at about 5 A.M. I have a cup\nof tea or coffee, and use Grandmamma Coleridge's old-fashioned silver\ncream-jug, and the cup and saucer which Augusta sent out years ago,\nmy old christening spoon, and the old silver tea-pot and salver. Very\ngrand, but I like the old things.\n\n'This day fortnight (D.V.) I ordain J. Atkin and C. H. Brooke Priests.\n\n'I have no time to answer your April and September letters. I rejoice\nwith all my heart to hear of Dr. Moberly's appointment. What a joyful\nevent for Charlotte Yonge. That child Pena sent me Shairp's (dear old\nShairp) book, which I wanted. I must write to Sophy as soon as I can.\nYou will forgive if I have seemed to be, or really have been, unmindful\nof your sorrows and anxieties. Sometimes I think I am in too great a\nwhirl to think long enough to realise and enter into all your doings.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nThe intended letter to Mrs. Martyn was soon written. The death there\nreferred to was that of Mrs. William Coleridge, widow of the Bishop of\nBarbadoes:--\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: December 14, 1869.\n\n'My dear Sophy,--I should be specially thinking of you as Christmas\ndraws nigh with its blessed thoughts, and hopes, and the St. Stephen's\nmemories in any case I should be thinking of you. But now I have lately\nreceived your long loving letter of last Eastertide, partly written in\nbed.\n\nThen your dear child's illness makes me think greatly (and how\nlovingly!) of you three of the three generations. Lastly, I hear of dear\nAunt William's death. You know that I had a very great affection for\nher, and I feel that this is a great blow probably to you all, though\ndear Aunty (as I have noticed in all old persons, especially when good\nas well as old) takes this quietly, I dare say. The feeling must be,\n\"Well, I shall soon meet her again; a few short days only remain.\"\n\n'I suppose that you, with your quarter of a century's widowhood, still\nfeel as if the waiting time was all sanctified by the thought of the\nreunion. Oh! what a thought it is: too much almost to think that by\nHis wonderful mercy, one may hope to be with them all, and for ever;\nto behold the faces of Apostles, and Apostolic men, and Prophets, and\nSaints, holy men and women; and, as if this were not enough, to see\nHim as He is, in His essential perfections, and to know Him. One can't\nsustain the effort of such a thought, which shows how great a change\nmust pass on one before the great Consummation. Well, the more one can\nthink of dear Father and Mother, and dear dear Uncle James and Uncle\nFrank, and Cousin George, and Uncle and Aunt William, others too, uncles\nand aunts, and your dear Fanny, and your husband, though it would be\nuntrue to say I knew him, taken so early--the more one thinks of them\nall the better. And I have, Sophy, so many very different ones to think\nof Edwin and Fisher, and so many Melanesians taken away in the very\nfirst earnestness and simplicity of a new convert's faith. How many have\ndied in my arms--God be thanked--in good hope!\n\n'If by His great mercy there be a place for me there, I feel persuaded\nthat I shall there find many of those dear lads, whom indeed I think of\nwith a full heart, full of affection and thankfulness.\n\n'I have been reading the \"Memoir of Mr. Keble,\" of course with extreme\ninterest. It is all about events and chiefly about persons that one has\nheard about or even known. I think we get a little autobiography of our\ndear Uncle John in it too, for which I don't like it the less.\n\nThere are passages, as against going to Borne, which I am glad to see in\nprint; they are wanted now again, I fear. I am glad you like Moberly's\n\"Bampton Lectures.\" His book on \"The Great Forty Days,\" his best\nbook (?) after all, has the germ of it all. I am so thankful for his\nappointment to Salisbury. I dare say you know that he is kind enough to\nwrite to me occasionally; and he sends me his books, one of the greatest\nof the indirect blessings of being known to Mr. Keble. I do very little\nin the way of reading, save that I get a quiet hour for Hebrew, 5-6\nA.M., and I do read some theology. In one sense it is easier reading to\nme than other books, history, poetry, because, though I don't know much\nabout it, I know nothing about them.\n\n'My pleasure would be, if with you, in talking over such little insight\nas I may have received into the wondrous harmony and symmetry of the\nwhole Bible, by tolerably close examination of the text of the Greek,\nand to some extent of the Hebrew. The way in which a peculiar word\nbrings a whole passage or argument en rapport with a train of historical\nassociations or previous statements is wonderful; e.g., the verb of\nwhich Moses is formed occurs only in Exodus ii. 10, 2 Samuel xxii. 17,\nPsalm xviii. 16. See how the magnificent description of the Passage of\nthe Red Sea in Psalm xviii. is connected with Moses by this one word.\nThese undesigned coincidences, and (surely) proofs of inspiration are\ninnumerable.\n\n'I do delight in it: only I want more help, far more. We have great\nadvantages in this generation. Dear Uncle James had no Commentary,\none might almost say, on Old Testament or New Testament. Ellicott,\nWordsworth, and Alford on the New Testament were not in existence; and\nthe Germans, used with discrimination, are great helps. An orthodox\nLutheran, one Delitzsch (of whom Liddon wrote that Dr. Pusey thinks\nhighly of his Hebrew scholarship), helps me much in Isaiah. He has\nsucked all the best part out of Vitringa's enormous book, and added\nmuch minute, and I am told correct criticism. And how grand it is! This\nmorning--it is now 6.15 A.M.--I have been reading part of that wonderful\nchapter xxvi.\n\n'It strikes me that the way to teach a class or a congregation is to\nbring out the doctrine from the very words of Scripture carefully,\ncritically examined and explained. Only think, Sophy, of the vague\ndesultory way in which we all, more or less, read; and we have accepted\na phraseology without enquiring to a great extent, and use words to\nwhich we attach no definite meaning. Few in the congregation could\ndraw out in clear words what they mean when they talk of faith,\njustification, regeneration, conversion, &c. &c. All language denoting\nideas and thoughts is transferred to the region of the mind from\ndenoting at first only external objects and sensations. This is in\naccordance with the mystery of all, the union of mind and matter--which\nno pagan philosopher could comprehend--the extreme difficulty of solving\nwhich caused Dualism and Asceticism on the one hand, and neglect of all\nbodily discipline on the other. Mind and matter must be antagonistic,\nthe work of different beings: man must get rid of his material part to\narrive at his true end and perfection.\n\n'So some said, \"Mortify, worry the body, which is essentially and\ninherently evil.\" \"No,\" said others, \"the sins of the body don't hurt\nthe mind; the two things are distinct, don't react on one another.\"\n(St. Paul deals with all this in the Colossians.) The Incarnation is the\nsolution or the culmination of the mystery.\n\n'What a prose! but I meant, that people so often use words as if the use\nof a word was equivalent to the knowledge of the thought which, in the\nmind of an accurate thinker, accompanies the utterance of the word.\n\n'I should think that three-fourths of what we clergymen say is\nunintelligible to the mass of the congregation. We assume an\nacquaintance with the Bible and Prayer-book, thought, and a knowledge of\nthe meaning of words which few, alas! possess. We must begin, then, with\nthe little ones; as far as I see, all children are apt to fail at the\npoint when they ought to be passing from merely employing the memory (in\nlearning by heart, e.g., the Catechism) by exercising the reasoning and\nthinking faculty.\n\n'\"Well now, you have said that very well, now let us think what it\nmeans.\"\n\n'How well Dr. Pusey says, in his Sermons, \"Not altogether intentional\ndeliberate vice, but thoughtlessness is destroying souls.\"\n\n'I run on at random, dear Sophy, hoping to give you one and a half\nhour's occupation on a sick bed or couch, and because, as you say, this\nis the only converse we are likely to have on earth.\n\n'I think I am too exclusively fond of this reading, very little else\ninterests me. I take up a theological book as a recreation, which is,\nperhaps, hardly reverent, and may narrow the mind; but even Church\nhistory is not very attractive to me. I like Jackson and Hooker, and\nsome of the moderns, of whom I read a good many; and I lose a good deal\nof time in diving into things too deep by half for me, while I forget or\ndon't learn simple things.\n\n'All this modern rage for reviews, serials, magazines, I can't abide.\nMy mind is far too much distracted already, and that fragmentary mode of\nreading is very bad for many people, I am sure.\n\n'Naturally enough at forty-two years of age ninety-nine hundredths\nof the \"lighter\" books seem to me mere rubbish. They come to me\noccasionally. However, there are younger ones here, so it isn't sheer\nwaste to receive such donations: they soon get out of my room. Not,\nmind you, that I think this the least evidence of my being wiser, or\nemploying my time more carefully than other folk. Only I want you to\nknow what I am, and what I think.\n\n'Pena has sent me a nice book which I wanted: 1st. Because I have a\ngreat personal liking for Shairp, a simple-minded, affectionate man,\nwith much poetical feeling and good taste-a kindly-natured man. 2nd.\nBecause he writes in an appreciative kind of way, and is the\nvery opposite of .... whom I can't stand with his insufferable\nself-sufficiency, and incapacity for appreciating the nobler, simpler,\nmore generous natures who are unlike him. Well! that is fierce. But\nthere is a school of men whom I can't stand. Their nature repels me, and\nI hardly wish to like them; which is an evil feeling.\n\n'I shall add a line in a few days.\n\n'My very dearest love to Aunty--dear Aunty; and if I can't write to\nPena, give her my best love and thanks for her book.\n\n'Dear Sophy, your loving Cousin,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\n\nTwo other letters, one to each of the sisters, were in progress at\nthis time. To Joanna, who had been grieved for the poor girl whose\ntransgression had occurred in the beginning of the year, he says:--\n\n'About Semtingvat, you must be comforted about her. For a poor child\nwho, two short years before, had assumed as a matter of course that a\nwoman simply existed to be a man's slave in every kind of way, her fault\ncould not, I think, be regarded as very great. Indeed, there was much\ncomfort from the first; and since that time they not only have gone\non well, but I do believe that their religious character has been\nmuch strengthened by the kind of revelation they then obtained of what\nChristianity really does mean. Anyhow, all notice the fact that U----\nhas improved very much, and they all sing Semtingvat's praises. I had no\ndifficulty about marrying them after a little while. I spoke openly in\nchapel to everyone about it. Their wedding was not as other weddings--no\nfestivity, no dressing of the chapel, no feast, no supper and fun and\nholiday. It was perfectly understood to be in all respects different\nfrom a bright, happy wedding. But it was quite as much for the sake of\nall, for the sake of enforcing the new teaching about the sanctity of\nmarriage, that we made so very much of what (as men speak) was under the\ncircumstances a comparatively light fault, less than an impure thought\non the part of such as have been taught their duty from their childhood.\n\n'I am almost confused with the accounts from England. All seems in a\nstate of turmoil and confusion; all the old landmarks being swept away\nby a deluge of new opinions as to all matters civil and ecclesiastical.\nI don't think that we ought to refuse to see these signs of a change in\nmen's mode of regarding great political and religious questions. A man\nleft high and dry on the sand-bank of his antiquated notions will do\nlittle good to the poor folk struggling in the sea way, though he is\nsafer as far as he is himself concerned by staying where he is than by\nplunging in to help them.\n\n'It is a critical time in every sense. Men and women can hardly be\nindifferent; they must be at the pains of making up their minds. As for\nus clergy, everywhere but in Norfolk Island, we must know that people\nare thinking of matters which all were content a few years ago to\nkeep back in silence, and that they expect us to speak about them. How\nthankful I am that we fortunate ones are exempt from this. Yet in my way\nI, too, try to think a bit about what is going on; and I don't want\nto be too gloomy, or to ignore some good in all this ferment in men's\nminds. It is better than stagnation and indolent respectability. There\nis everywhere a consciousness of a vast work to be done, and sincere\nefforts are made to do it. I suppose that is a fact; many, many poor\nsouls are being taught and trained for heaven through all these various\nagencies which seem to a distant and idle critic to be so questionable\nin some ways.\n\n'Of old one thought that the sober standard of Church of England\ndivinity was the rule to which all speculations should be reduced; and\none thought that Pearson, Hooker, Waterland, Jeremy Taylor also, and\nAndrewes, and Bull, and Jackson, and Barrow, &c., stood for the idea of\nEnglish divinity. Now we are launched upon a wider sea. Catholic usage\nand doctrine take the place of Church of England teaching and practice;\nrightly, I dare say, only it may be well to remember that men who can\nperhaps understand a good deal of the English divines, can hardly be\nsupposed to be equally capable of understanding the far wider and\nmore difficult range of ecclesiastical literature of all ages and all\nwriters.\n\n'Everyone knows and is struck by the fact that passages of old writers\nare continually quoted by men of quite different schools of thought\nin favour of their own (different) views. Clearly they can't both\nunderstand the mind and spirit of these writers; and the truth is, isn't\nit, that only they who by very long study, and from a large share of the\ntrue historical imagination, sympathise with and really enter into the\nhearts and minds of these writers, are competent to deal with and decide\nupon such wide and weighty matters?\n\n'It seems to me as if men who are in no sense divines, theologians, or\nwell read, speak strongly and use expressions and teach doctrines which,\nindeed, only very few men should think of uttering or teaching.\n\n'And yet, don't think I wish to be only an exclusive Anglican, without\nsympathy for East or West; still less that I wish to ignore the Catholic\nChurch of the truly primitive times; but I take the real, so to say,\nrepresentative teaching of the Church of England to be the divinity\nof the truly primitive Church, to which our formularies and reformers\nappeal. I know, moreover, that our dear Father accepted Jackson and\nWaterland; and I don't feel disposed to disparage them, as it is the\nfashion to do nowadays. Few men, in spite of occasional scholastic\nsubtlety, go so deep in their search right down into principles as\nJackson. Few men so analyse, dissect, search out the precise, exact\nmeaning of words and phrases, so carry you away from vague generalities\nto accurate defined meanings and doctrines. He had an honest and clear\nbrain of his own, though he was a tremendous book-worm; and I think\nhe is a great authority, though I know about him and his antagonism to\nRome. I don't fear to weary you by this kind of talk; but don't I wish\nI could hear three or four of our very best men discuss these points\nthoroughly. In all sincerity I believe that I should be continually\nconvinced of error, shallow judgments, and ignorance. But then I should\nmost likely get real light on some points where I would fain have it.'\n\nTo this unconscious token of humility, another must be added, from the\nsame letter, speaking of two New Zealand friends:--'To me she has always\nbeen kindness itself, with her husband overrating me to such an amusing\nextent that I don't think it hurt even my vanity.'\n\nFull preparation was going on for the ordination, of the two priests.\n\nNo special account of the actual service seems to have been written; and\nthe first letter of January was nearly absorbed by the tidings of the\nthree Episcopal appointments of the close of 1869, the Oxford choice\ncoming near to Bishop Patteson by his family affections, and the\nappointment to Exeter as dealing with his beloved county at home.\n\nAnd now, before turning the page, and leaving the period that had, on\nthe whole, been full of brightness, will be the best time to give Mr.\nCodrington's account of the manner of life at St. Barnabas, while the\nBishop was still in his strength:--\n\n'Certainly one of the most striking points to a stranger would have been\nthe familiar intercourse between the Bishop and his boys, not only\nthe advanced scholars, but the last and newest comers. The kindly and\nfriendly disposition of the Melanesians leads to a great deal of free\nand equal familiarity even where there are chiefs, and the obsequious\nfamiliarity of which one hears in India is here quite unknown.\nNevertheless, I doubt very much whether other Melanesians live in\nthe same familiarity with their missionaries--e.g., Carry, wife of\nWadrokala, writes thus:--\"I tremble very much to write to you, I am not\nfit to write to you, because, does an ant know how to speak to a cow? We\nat Nengone would not speak to a great man like you; no, our language is\ndifferent to a chief and a missionary.\"\n\n'Making every allowance, and, looking at the matter from within, that\nperfect freedom and affectionateness of intercourse that existed with\nhim seems very remarkable.\n\n'The secret of it is not far to seek. It did not lie in any singular\nattractiveness of his manner only, but in the experience that everyone\nattracted gained that he sought nothing for himself; he was entirely\nfree from any desire to be admired, or love of being thought much of, as\nhe was from love of commanding for the sake of being obeyed. The great\ntemptations to missionaries among savage people, as it seems, are\nto self-esteem, from a comparison of themselves with their European\nadvantages and the natives among whom they live; and to a domineering\ntemper, because they find an obedience ready, and it is delightful to be\nobeyed. Bishop Patteson's natural disposition was averse to either, and\nthe principles of missionary work which he took up suited at once his\nnatural temper and his religious character. He was able naturally,\nwithout effort, to live as a brother among his black brothers, to be the\nservant of those he lived to teach. The natural consequence of this was,\nthe unquestioned authority which he possessed over those with whom he\nlived on equal terms. No one could entertain the idea that anything was\nordered from a selfish motive, for any advantage to himself, or that\nanything was forbidden without some very good reason. This familiarity\nwith a superior, which is natural with Melanesians, is accompanied,\nespecially in Banks Islanders, with a very great reserve about anything\nthat touches the feelings or concerns character. Thus a boy, who would\nuse the Bishop's room as if it were his own, coming in unasked, to read\nor write, or sit by the fire there, would with very great difficulty get\nover the physical trembling, which their language implies, that would\ncome upon him, if he wished to speak about his own feelings on religious\nmatters, or to tell him something which he well knew it was his duty to\nmake known. When one knows how difficult it is to them to speak openly,\ntheir openness with the Bishop is more appreciated, though he indeed\noften enough complained of their closeness with him. The real affection\nbetween the boys and the Bishop required no acquaintance with the\ncharacter of either to discern, and could surprise no one who knew\nanything of the history of their relation one to another. It is well\nknown that he wished his elder boys to stand in the place of the sixth\nform of a public school; and to some extent they did so, but being\nmostly Banks Islanders, and Banks Islanders being peculiarly afraid of\ninterfering with one another, his idea was never reached. Still no\ndoubt a good deal is attained when they arrive rather at the position of\npupil-teacher in a National School; and this at least they occupy very\nsatisfactorily, as is shown by the success with which so large a school\nhas been carried on since the Bishop's death. No doubt the Ordination\nof more from among their number would go far to raise them in their own\nestimation.\n\n'In truth, the carrying out of the principle of the equality of black\nand white in a missionary work, which is the principle of this mission,\nis very difficult, and cannot be done in all particulars in practice\nby anyone, and by most people, unless brought up to it, probably not at\nall. Nevertheless, it is practicable, and, as we think, essential, and\nwas in all main points carried out by Bishop Patteson. But the effect of\nthis must not be exaggerated. It is true that we have no servants, yet a\nboy regularly brought water, &c., for the Bishop, and a woman regularly\nswept and cleaned his rooms, and received regular wages for it.\nThe Bishop never cooked his dinner or did any such work except upon\noccasions on which a bachelor curate in England does much of the kind,\nas a matter of course. The extraordinary thing is that it is, as he at\nany rate supposed, the custom in other missions to make scholars and\nconverts servants as a matter of course; and the difference lies not in\nthe work which is done or not done by the one party or the other, but\nin the social relation of equality which subsists between them, and the\nspirit in which the work is asked for and rendered.\n\n'The main thing to notice about the Bishop is that there was nothing\nforced or unnatural in his manner of taking a position of equality, and\nequality as real in any way as his superiority in another. Consequently,\nthere was never the least loss of dignity or authority on his part.\n\n'There never was visible the smallest diminution of freedom and\naffection in the intercourse that went on. It required some knowledge\nin one respect to appreciate the extraordinary facility with which he\nconversed with boys from various islands. A stranger would be struck\nwith his bright smiles and sweet tones as he would address some little\nstranger who came into his room; but one who knew a little of the\nlanguages alone could know with what extraordinary quickness he\npassed from one language to another, talking to many boys in their own\nlanguage, but accommodating his tongue with wonderful readiness to\neach in succession. It would be hard to say how many languages he could\nspeak; those which he spoke quite freely, to my knowledge, were not so\nmany: Mota, Bauro, Mahaga, and Nengone, certainly; some others no doubt\nquite readily when among the people who spoke them; and very many only\nwith a small vocabulary which was every instant being enlarged. It does\nnot appear to me that his scientific philological acquirements were\nextraordinary; but that his memory for words giving him such a command\nof vocabulary, and so wide a scope for comparison, and his accurate and\ndelicate ear to catch the sounds, and power of reproducing them, were\naltogether wonderful and very rarely equalled. A man of his faculty of\nexpression and powers of mind could not speak like a native; he spoke\nbetter than a native, than a native of Mota at least. That is that,\nalthough no doubt he never was quite master of the little delicate\npoints of Mota scholarship, which no one not a native can keep quite\nright, and no native can account for, yet his vocabulary was so large\nand accurate, and his feeling of the native ways of looking at things\nand representing them in words so true, that he spoke to them more\nclearly and forcibly than even any native spoke, and with the power of\nan educated mind controlling while following the native taste. He was an\nenthusiast, no doubt, about these languages, and jealous of their claim\nto be considered true language, and not what people suppose them to be,\nthe uncouth jargon of savages. I will only say that his translations\nof some of the Psalms into Mota are as lofty in their diction and as\nharmonious in their rhythm, in my estimation, as anything almost I read\nin any language. This no doubt sounds exaggerated, and must be taken\nonly for what it is worth.\n\n'It was probably in a great measure because his natural power of\nacquiring languages was so extraordinary, and needed so very little\nlabour in him, that he did so very little to put on paper what he knew\nof all those many tongues. All there is in print I have put together.\nBesides this, he carried the same unfortunate way of leaving off what he\nhad begun into these notes on language also. In the year '63-'64 he got\nprinted a number of small grammatical papers in almost all the languages\nhe knew, because he felt he ought not to subject them to the risk\nof being lost. Another reason why he did not go into any laborious\nmanuscript or printing work with the various languages was, that he\nsaw as time went on, first, that it was so very uncertain what language\nwould come in practice into request; and, secondly, that one\nlanguage would suffice for the use, in practice, of all natives of a\nneighbourhood. For example, the language of part of Mae (Three Hills),\nin the New Hebrides, was once studied and well known. Nothing whatever\ncame of the intercourse with that island, once so constant, I don't know\nwhy, and now the people themselves are destroyed almost, and hopes of\ndoing them good destroyed by the slave trade. And, secondly, the use\nof the Mota language in our ordinary intercourse here has very much\ndiminished the need for any one's knowing a particular language beyond\nthe missionary who has charge of the boys who speak it. Thus the Bishop\nrather handed over the language of Bauro to Mr. Atkin, of Florida to Mr.\nBrooke, of Leper's Island to Mr. Price; and as the common teaching of\nall boys who belonged to either of the principal groups into which the\nschool fell went on in Mota, there was no practical use in the other\ntongues the Bishop knew, except in his voyages, and in giving him more\neffectual powers of influencing those to whom he could speak in their\nown tongue. Besides, he saw so clearly the great advantage, on the one\nhand, of throwing together in every possible way the boys from all the\nislands, which was much helped by the use of one language, and, on the\nother hand, the natural tendency in a group of boys from one island or\nneighbourhood to keep separate, and of the teacher of a particular set\nto keep them separate with himself, that, without saying much about\nit, he discouraged the printing of other languages besides Mota, and\nin other ways kept them rather in the background. How things would have\narranged themselves if Mota had not by circumstances come into such\nprominence I cannot say, but the predominance of Mota came in with the\ninternal organisation of the Mission by Mr. Pritt. It is impossible for\none who knew Bishop Patteson intimately, and the later condition of the\nMission intimately, to lose sight for long of Mr. Pritt's influence and\nhis useful work.'\n\nPerhaps this chapter can best be completed by the external testimony\nof a visitor to Norfolk Island, given in a letter to the Editor of the\n'Australian Churchman':--\n\n'Daily at 7 A.M. the bell rings for chapel about one minute, and\nall hands promptly repair thither. In spite of the vast varieties of\nlanguage and dialect spoken by fifty or sixty human beings, collected\nfrom twenty or thirty islets of the Pacific main, no practical\ndifficulty has been found in using the Mota as the general language\nin Chapel and school, so that in a short time a congregation of twenty\nlanguages are able to join in worship in the one Mota tongue, more or\nless akin to all the rest, and a class of, say, nine boys, speaking\nby nature five different languages, easily join in using the one Mota\nlanguage, just as a Frenchman, a German, a Russian, a Pole, an Italian,\nand an Englishman, all meeting in the same cafe or railway carriage, on\nthe same glacier or mountain top, might harmoniously agree to use the\nFrench language as their medium of communication. So the service is\nconducted in Mota with one exception only. The collect for the day is\nread in English, as a brief allowable concession to the ears and hearts\nof the English members of the Mission. The service consists of\nthe greater part of the Church of England Service translated.\nSome modifications have been made to suit the course of religious\ninstruction. The Psalms are chanted and hymns sung in parts, and always\nin admirable tune, by the congregation. Noteworthy are the perfect\nattention, the reverent attitude, the hearty swing and unison of the\nlittle congregation, a lesson, I felt with shame, to many of our white\ncongregations.\n\n'Immediately after service clinks out the breakfast bell, and, with\nmarvellous promptitude and punctuality, whites and blacks, lay and\nclerical, are seen flocking to the mess-room. The whites sit at the\nupper end of the table, but beyond the special privilege of tea, all\nfare alike, chiefly on vegetables: yams or sweet potatoes, and carrots\nor vegetable marrows, as may suit the season, with plenty of biscuit\nfor more ambitious teeth, and plenty of milk to wash it down. Soon\nafterwards comes school for an hour and a half. Then work for the boys\nand men, planting yams, reaping wheat, mowing oats, fencing, carting,\nbuilding, as the call may be, only no caste distinction or ordering\nabout; it is not go and do that, but come and do this, whether the\nleader be an ordained clergyman, a white farm bailiff, or a white\ncarpenter. This is noteworthy, and your readers will gain no clear idea\nof the Mission if they do not seize this point, for it is no matter of\nmere detail, but one of principle. The system is not that of the ship\nor the regiment, of the farm or the manufactory of the old country, but\nessentially of the family. It is not the officer or master saying \"Go\"\nbut the father or the brother saying \"Come.\" And to this, I firmly\nbelieve, is the hearty cheerful following and merry work of the blacks\nchiefly due. At 1 P.M. is dinner, much the same as breakfast. Meat,\nthough not unknown, is the weak point of the Mission dietary. In the\nafternoon, work. At 6, tea. In the evening, class again for an hour\nor two; this evening class being sometimes a singing lesson, heartily\nenjoyed by the teacher. I forget precisely when the boys have to prepare\nmatter arising out of the lessons they have received viva voce.\n\n'There are evening prayers, and bed-time is early. Noteworthy are the\nhappy conjunctions of perfect discipline with perfect jollity, the\nmarvellous attainment of a happy familiarity which does not \"breed\ncontempt.\"\n\n'I presume I need scarcely say to your readers that besides education\nin reading, writing, and arithmetic, through the medium of the Mota\nlanguage, instruction in the Holy Scriptures and the most careful\nexplanations of their meaning and mutual relation, forms a main part of\nthe teaching given. The men and boys of the senior classes take notes;\nnotes not by order expressly to be inspected, but, so to say, private\nnotes for the aid of their memories; and from the translation given to\nme by Bishop Patteson of some of these, I should say that few, if any,\nof the senior class of an English Sunday School could give anything like\nso close, and sometimes philosophical, an explanation of Scripture, and\nthat sometimes in remarkably few words.\n\n'There remains to be noticed one most effectual means of doing good.\nAfter evening school, the Bishop, his clergy, and his aides, retire\nmostly into their own rooms. Then, quietly and shyly, on this night or\nthe other night, one or two, three or four of the more intelligent of\nthe black boys steal silently up to the Bishop's side, and by fits\nand starts, slowly, often painfully, tell their feelings, state their\ndifficulties, ask for help, and, I believe, with God's blessing, rarely\nfail to find it. They are not gushing as negroes, but shy as Englishmen;\nwe Englishmen ought, indeed, to have a fellow-feeling for these poor\nblack boys and help them with all our hearts.\n\n'Such is the routine for five of the six work days. Saturday is whole\nholiday, and all hands go to fish if the sea permits; if not, to play\nrounders or what not. Merry lads they are, as ever gladdened an English\nplayground.\n\n'On Sunday, the early Chapel is omitted. The full Liturgy is divided\ninto two services--I forget the laws--and a kind of sermon in Mota is\ngiven; and in the afternoon, the Bishop, or one of the ordained members\nof the Mission, usually goes down to the town to relieve Mr. Nobbs in\nhis service for the Pitcairners.\n\n'As regards the manual work of the station, this general principle is\nobserved--women for washing and house-work; the men for planting and\nout-of-door work; but no one, white or black, is to be too grand to do\nhis share. The Bishop's share, indeed, is to study and investigate and\ncompare the languages and necessary translations, but no one is to\nbe above manual labour. No one, because he is a white man, is to say,\n\"Here, black fellow, come and clean my boots.\" \"Here, black people,\nbelieve that I have come to give you a treasure of inestimable price.\nMeantime, work for me, am I not your superior? Can I not give you money,\ncalico, what not?\"\n\n'This Christian democracy, if I may so call it, has worked well in the\nlong run.'\n\nThis observer does seem to have entered well into the spirit of the\nplace; and there can be no doubt that the plan and organisation of the\nMission had by this time been well tested and both found practicable,\nand, as at present worked, more than ordinarily successful. The college\nwas in full working order, with a staff of clergy, all save one formed\nunder the Bishop, one native deacon and two teachers living with their\nwives in a population that was fast becoming moulded by the influence\nof Christianity, many more being trained up, and several more islands\nin course of gradual preparation by the same process as was further\nadvanced in Mota.\n\nSuch were the achievements which could be thankfully recounted by the\nend of 1869.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII. THE LAST EIGHTEEN MONTHS. 1870-1871.\n\n\n\nThe prosperous days of every life pass away at last. Suffering and\nsorrow, failure and reverse are sure to await all who live out anything\nlike their term of years, and the missionary is perhaps more liable than\nother men to meet with a great disappointment. 'Success but signifies\nvicissitude,' and looking at the history of the growth of the Church, it\nis impossible not to observe that almost in all cases, immediately upon\nany extensive progress, there has followed what seems like a strong\neffort of the Evil One at its frustration, either by external\npersecution, reaction of heathenism, or, most fatally and frequently\nduring the last 300 years, from the reckless misdoings of unscrupulous\nsailors and colonists. The West Indies, Japan, America, all have the\nsame shameful tale to tell--what wonder if the same shadow were to be\ncast over the Isles of the South?\n\nIt is one of the misfortunes, perhaps the temptations of this modern\nworld, that two of its chief necessaries, sugar and cotton, require a\nclimate too hot for the labour of men who have intelligence enough to\ngrow and export them on a large scale, and who are therefore compelled,\nas they consider, to employ the forced toil of races able to endure\nheat. The Australian colony of Queensland is unfit to produce wheat, but\nwell able to grow sugar, and the islands of Fiji, which the natives have\nimplored England to annex, have become the resort of numerous planters\nand speculators. There were 300 white inhabitants in the latter at the\ntime of the visit of the 'Curacoa' in 1865. In 1871 the numbers were\nfrom 5,000 to 6,000. Large sheep farms have been laid out, and sugar\nplantations established.\n\nSouth Sea Islanders are found to have much of the negro toughness and\ndocility, and, as has been seen, when away from their homes they are\neasily amenable, and generally pleasant in manner, and intelligent.\nOften too they have a spirit of enterprise, which makes them willing to\nleave home, or some feud with a neighbour renders it convenient. Thus\nthe earlier planters did not find it difficult to procure willing\nlabourers, chiefly from those southern New Hebrides, Anaiteum, Tanna,\nErromango, &c., which were already accustomed to intercourse with\nsandal-wood traders, had resident Scottish or London missionaries, and\nmight have a fair understanding of what they were undertaking.\n\nThe Fiji islanders themselves had been converted by Wesleyan\nMissionaries, and these, while the numbers of imported labourers were\nsmall, did not think ill of the system, since it provided the islanders\nwith their great need, work, and might give them habits of industry.\nBut in the years 1868 and 1869 the demand began, both in Queensland and\nFiji, to increase beyond what could be supplied by willing labour, and\nthe premium, \u00a38 a head, on an able-bodied black, was sufficient to tempt\nthe masters of small craft to obtain the desired article by all possible\nmeans. Neither in the colony nor in Fiji were the planters desirous of\nobtaining workers by foul means, but labour they must have, and they\nwere willing to pay for it. Queensland, anxious to free herself from\nany imputation of slave-hunting, has drawn up a set of regulations,\nrequiring a regular contract to be made with the natives before they are\nshipped, for so many years, engaging that they shall receive wages, and\nbe sent home again at the end of the specified time. No one denies that\nwhen once the labourer has arrived, these rules are carried out; he is\nwell fed, kindly treated, not over worked, and at the end of three or\nfive years sent home again with the property he has earned.\n\nA recent traveller has argued that this is all that can be desired, and\nthat no true friend of the poor islander can object to his being taught\nindustry and civilisation. Complaints are all 'missionary exaggeration,'\nthat easy term for disposing of all defence of the dark races, and as\nto the difficulty of making a man, whose language is not understood,\nunderstand the terms of a contract--why, we continually sign legal\ndocuments we do not understand! Perhaps not, but we do understand enough\nnot to find ourselves bound to five years' labour when we thought we\nwere selling yams, or taking a pleasure trip. And we have some means\nof ascertaining the signification of such documents, and of obtaining\nredress if we have been deceived.\n\nAs to the boasted civilisation, a sugar plantation has not been found\na very advanced school for the American or West Indian negro, and as a\nmatter of fact, the islander who has fulfilled his term and comes home,\nbringing tobacco, clothes, and fire-arms, only becomes a more dangerous\nand licentious savage than he was in his simplicity. It is absolutely\nimpossible, even if the planters wished it, to give any instruction to\nthese poor fellows, so scattered are the settlements, so various the\nlanguages on each, and to send a man home with guns and gunpowder, and\nno touch of Christian teaching, is surely suicidal policy.\n\nYet, as long as the natives went in any degree willingly, though the\nMissionaries might deplore their so doing for the men's own sakes, and\nfor that of their islands, it was only like a clergyman at home seeing\nhis lads engage themselves to some occupation more undesirable than they\nknew. Therefore, the only thing that has been entreated for by all the\nmissions of every denomination alike in the South Seas, has been such\nsufficient supervision of the labour traffic as may prevent deceit or\nviolence from being used.\n\nFor, in the years 1869 and 1870, if not before, the captains of the\nlabour ships, finding that a sufficient supply of willing natives could\nnot be procured, had begun to cajole them on board. When they went\nto trade, they were thrust under hatches, and carried off, and if the\nSouthern New Hebrides became exhausted, and the labour ships entered\non those seas where the 'Southern Cross' was a welcome visitor, these\ncaptains sometimes told the men that 'the Bishop gave no pipes and\ntobacco, he was bad, they had better hold with them.' Or else 'the\nBishop could not come himself, but had sent this vessel to fetch them.'\nSometimes even a figure was placed on deck dressed in a black coat, with\na book in his hand, according to the sailors' notion of a missionary,\nto induce the natives to come on deck, and there they were clapped under\nhatches and carried off.\n\nIn 1870, H.M.S. 'Rosario,' Captain Palmer, brought one of these vessels,\nthe 'Daphne,' into Sydney, where the master was tried for acts of\nviolence, but a conviction could not be procured, and, as will be seen\nin the correspondence, Bishop Patteson did not regret the failure, as he\nwas anxious that ships of a fair size, with respectable owners, should\nnot be deterred from the traffic, since the more it became a smuggling,\nunrecognised business, the worse and more unscrupulous men would be\nemployed in it.\n\nBut decoying without violence began to fail; the natives were becoming\ntoo cautious, so the canoes were upset, and the men picked up while\nstruggling in the water. If they tried to resist, they were shot at, and\nall endeavours at a rescue were met with the use of firearms.\n\nThey were thus swept off in such numbers, that small islands lost almost\nall their able-bodied inhabitants, and were in danger of famine for\nwant of their workers. Also, the Fiji planters, thinking to make the men\nhappier by bringing their wives, desired that this might be done, but it\nwas not easy to make out the married couples, nor did the crews trouble\nthemselves to do so, but took any woman they could lay hands on.\nHusbands pursued to save the wives, and were shot down, and a deadly\nspirit of hatred and terror against all that was white was aroused.\n\nThere is a still lower depth of atrocity, but as far as enquiry of the\nGovernment at Sydney can make out, unconnected with labour traffic, but\nwith the tortoise-shell trade. Skulls, it will be remembered, were the\nornament of old Iri's house at Bauro, and skulls are still the trophies\nin the more savage islands. It seems that some of the traders in\ntortoise-shell are in the habit of assisting their clients by conveying\nthem in their vessels in pursuit of heads. There is no evidence that\nthey actually do the work of slaughter themselves, though suspicion\nis strong, but these are the 'kill-kill' vessels in the patois of the\nPacific, while the kidnappers are the 'snatch-snatch.' Both together,\nthese causes were working up the islanders to a perilous pitch of\nsuspicion and exasperation during the years 1870, 1871, and thus were\ndestroying many of the best hopes of the fruit of the toils of all these\nyears. But the full extent of the mischief was still unknown in Norfolk\nIsland, when in the midst of the Bishop's plans for the expedition of\n1870 came the illness from which he never wholly recovered.\n\nAlready he had often felt and spoken of himself as an elderly man. Most\nmen of a year or two past forty are at the most vigorous period of their\nexistence, generally indeed with the really individual and effective\nwork of their lives before them, having hitherto been only serving their\napprenticeship; but Coleridge Patteson had begun his task while in early\nyouth, and had been obliged to bear at once responsibility and active\ntoil in no ordinary degree. Few have had to be at once head of a\ncollege, sole tutor and steward, as well as primary schoolmaster all at\nonce, or afterwards united these charges with those of Bishop, examining\nchaplain and theological professor, with the interludes of voyages which\ninvolved intense anxiety and watchfulness, as well as the hardships\nof those unrestful nights in native huts, and the exhaustion of the\ntropical climate. No wonder then that he was already as one whose work\nwas well-nigh done, and to whom rest was near. And though the entrance\ninto that rest was by a sudden stroke, it was one that mercifully spared\nthe sufferings of a protracted illness, and even if his friends pause to\nclaim for it the actual honours (on earth) of martyrdom, yet it was no\ndoubt such a death as he was most willing to die, full in his Master's\nservice--such a death as all can be thankful to think of. And for\nthe like-minded young man who shared his death, only with more of the\nbitterness thereof, the spirit in which he went forth may best be seen\nin part of a letter written in the January of 1870, just after his\nOrdination:--\n\n'The right way must be to have a general idea of what to aim at, and to\nmake for the goal by what seem, as you go, the best ways, not to go on a\ncourse you fixed to yourself before starting without having seen it. It\nis so easy for people to hold theories, and excellent ones too, of the\nway to manage or deal with the native races, but the worst is that when\nyou come to work the theory, the native race will never be found what it\nought to be for properly carrying it out. I am quite sure that nothing\nis to be done in a hurry; a good and zealous man in ignorance and haste\nmight do more harm in one year than could be remedied in ten. I would\nnot root out a single superstition until I had something better to put\nin its place, lest if all the weeds were rooted up, what had before been\nfertile should become desert, barren, disbelieving in anything. Is not\nthe right way to plant the true seed and nourish it that it may take\nroot, and out-grow and choke the weeds? My objection to Mission reports\nhas always been that the readers want to hear of \"progress,\" and the\nwriters are thus tempted to write of it, and may they not, without\nknowing it, be at times hasty that they may seem to be progressing?\nPeople expect too much. Those do so who see the results of Mission work,\nwho are engaged in it; those do so who send them. We have the precious\nseed to sow, and must sow it when and where we can, but we must not\nalways be looking out to reap what we have sown. We shall do that\n\"in due time\" if we \"faint not.\" Because missionary work looks like a\nfailure, it does not follow that it is.\n\n'Our Saviour, the first of all Christian Missionaries, was thirty years\nof His life preparing and being prepared for His work. Three years\nHe spake as never man spake, and did not His work at that time look\na failure? He made no mistakes either in what He taught or the way of\nteaching it, and He succeeded, though not to the eyes of men. Should not\nwe be contented with success like His? And with how much less ought we\nnot to be contented! So! The wonder is that by our means any result is\naccomplished at all.'\n\nThese are remarkable words for a young man of twenty-seven, full of\nlife, health, and vigour, and go far to prove the early ripening of a\nspirit chastened in hopes, even while all was bright.\n\nIn the latter part of February, Bishop Patteson, after about six days\nof warning, was prostrated by a very severe attack of internal\ninflammation, and for three days--from the 20th to the 22nd--was in\nconsiderable danger as well as suffering. Mr. Nobbs's medical knowledge\nseems, humanly speaking, to have brought him through, and on the 28th,\nwhen an opportunity occurred of sending letters, he was able to write\na note to his brother and sisters--weak and shattered-looking writing\nindeed, but telling all that needed to be told, and finishing with 'in\na few days (D.V.) I may be quite well;' then in a postscript: 'Our most\nmerciful Father, Redeemer and Sanctifier is merciful indeed. There was a\ntime when I felt drawing near the dark valley, and I thought of Father,\nMother, of Uncle Frank, and our little ones, Frankie and Dolly,'--a\nbrother and sister who had died in early infancy.\n\nBut it was not the Divine will that he should be well in a few days. Day\nafter day he continued feeble; and suffering much, though not so acutely\nas in the first attack, Mr. Nobbs continued to attend him, and the\ntreatment was approved afterwards by the physicians consulted. All the\nclergy took their part in nursing, and the Melanesian youths in turn\nwatched him day and night. He did not leave his room till the beginning\nof April, and then was only equal to the exertion of preparing two lads\nfor Baptism and a few more for Confirmation. On Easter Sunday he was\nable to baptize the first mentioned, and confirm the others; and, the\n'Southern Cross' having by this time arrived for the regular voyage, he\nembarked in her to obtain further advice at Auckland.\n\nLady Martin, his kind and tender hostess and nurse, thus describes his\narrival:--\n\n'We had heard of his illness from himself and others, and of his being\nout of danger in the middle of March. We were therefore much surprised\nwhen the \"Southern Cross,\" which had sailed a fortnight before for\nNorfolk Island, came into the harbour on the morning of the 25th of\nApril, and anchored in our bay with the Bishop's flag flying. We went\ndown to the beach with anxious hearts to receive the dear invalid, and\nwere greatly shocked at his appearance. His beard, which he had allowed\nto grow since his illness, and his hair were streaked with grey; his\ncomplexion was very dark, and his frame was bowed like an old man's.\n\n'The Captain and Mr. Bice almost carried him up the hill to our house.\nHe was very thankful to be on shore, and spoke cheerfully about the\nimprovement he had made on the voyage. It was not very apparent to us\nwho had not seen him for two years. Even then he was looking worn and\nill, but still was a young active man. He seemed now quite a wreck. For\nthe first fortnight his faithful attendant Malagona slept in his room,\nand was ready at all hours to wait upon his beloved Bishop. Day by day\nhe used to sit by the fire in an easy chair, too weak to move or to\nattend to reading. He got up very early, being tired of bed. His books\nand papers were all brought out, but he did little but doze.'\n\nYet, in his despatch of the 2nd of May, where the manuscript is as firm,\nclear, and beautiful as ever, only somewhat less minute, he says that he\nhad improved wonderfully on the voyage, though he adds that the doctor\ntold him, 'At an office, they would insure your life at fifty, instead\nof forty-three years of age.'\n\nDr. Goldsboro had, on examination, discovered a chronic ailment, not\nlikely, with care and treatment, to be dangerous to life, but forbidding\nactive exertion or horse exercise, and warning him that a sudden jar\nor slip or fall on rugged ground would probably bring on acute\ninflammation, which might prove fatal after hours of suffering.\n\nAfter, in the above-mentioned letter, communicating his exact state, he\nadds:--'The pain has been at times very severe, and yet I can't tell\nyou of the very great happiness and actual enjoyment of many of those\nsleepless nights; when, perhaps at 2 A.M., I felt the pain subsiding,\nand prayer for rest, if it were His will, was changed into thanksgiving\nfor the relief; then, as the fire flickered, came restful, peaceful,\nhappy thoughts, mingled with much, I trust, heart-felt sorrow and\nremorse. And Psalms seemed to have a new meaning, and prayers to be so\nreal, and somehow there was a sense of a very near Presence, and I felt\nalmost sorry when it was 5.30, and I got up, and my kind Melanesian\nnurse made me my morning cup of weak tea, so good to the dry, furred\ntongue.\n\n'Well, that is all past and gone; and now the hope and prayer is, that\nwhen my time is really come, I may be better prepared to go.\n\n'Sir William and Lady Martin are pretty well; and I am in clover here,\ngetting real rest, and gaining ground pretty well. I have all confidence\nin the prudence of the other missionaries and leave the work thankfully\nin their hands, knowing well Whose work it is, and to Whose guidance and\nprotection we all trust.'\n\nOn the 9th, in a letter sent by a different route, he adds:--\n\n'So I think it will come to my doing my work on Norfolk Island just as\nusual, with only occasional inconvenience or discomfort. But I think I\nshall have to forego some of the more risky and adventurous part of the\nwork in the islands. This is all right. It is a sign that the time is\ncome for me to delegate it to others. I don't mean that I shall not take\nthe voyages, and stop about on the islands (D.V.) as before. But I must\ndo it all more carefully, and avoid much that of old I never thought\nabout. Yet I think it will not, as a matter of fact, much interfere with\nmy work.\n\n'I have, you understand, no pain now, only some discomfort. The fact\nthat I can't do things, move about, &c., like a sound healthy person\nis not a trial. The relief from pain, the _resty_ feeling, is such a\nblessing and enjoyment that I don't seem, as yet at all events, to care\nabout the other.'\n\nSo of that restful state Lady Martin says: 'Indeed it was a most happy\ntime to us, and I think on the whole to him. It was a new state of\nthings to keep him without any pricks of conscience or restlessness on\nhis part. He liked to have a quiet half-hour by the fire at night;\nand before I left him I used to put his books near him: his Bible, his\nHebrew Psalter, his father's copy of Bishop Andrewes. Sometimes I would\nlinger for a few minutes to talk about his past illness. He used to\ndwell specially on his dear father's nearness to him at that time.\nHe spoke once or twice with a reverent holy awe and joy of sleepless\nnights, when thoughts of God had filled his soul and sustained him.\n\n'His face, always beautiful from the unworldly purity of its expression,\nwas really as the face of an angel while he spoke of these things and of\nthe love and kindness he had received. He seemed to have been standing\non the very brink of the river, and it was yet doubtful whether he was\nto abide with us. Now, looking back, we can see how mercifully God was\ndealing with His servant. A time of quiet and of preparation for death\ngiven to him apart from the hurry of his daily life, then a few months\nof active service, and then the crown.\n\n'At the end of a fortnight (?--you must please to rectify dates) the\n\"Southern Cross\" sailed again, with Mr. Bice and Malagona on board;\nwhen, just as we were expecting she would have reached Norfolk Island,\nshe was driving back into the harbour.'\n\nThe following letter to the Bishop of Lichfield gives an account of her\nperil:--\n\n\n'Taurarua: May 11, 1870.\n\n'My dear Bishop,--I have to tell you of another great mercy. The\n\"Southern Cross\" left Auckland on May 3--fair wind and fine weather.\n\n'On May 5 she was within 185 miles of Norfolk Island.\n\n'Then came on a fearful gale from the east and northeast to north-west.\nThey were hove-to for three days, everything battened down; port boat\nand davits carried away by a sea; after a while the starboard boat\ndashed to pieces.\n\n'Malagona, my nurse at Norfolk Island, who was brought up for a treat,\nwas thrown completely across the cabin by one lurch, when she seemed\nalmost settling down. It was dark. The water in the cabin, which\nhad come through the dead-light, showed a little phosphoric glimmer.\n\"Brother,\" he said to Bice, \"are we dying?\" \"I don't know; it seems like\nit. We are in God's hands.\" \"Yes, I know.\"\n\n'Mr. (Captain) Jacobs was calm and self-possessed. He even behaved\nexcellently. Once, all on deck were washed into the lee scuppers, and\none man washed overboard; but he held a rope, and with it and the recoil\nwas borne in again upon the deck. Lowest barometer, 28\u00b0 65'! We were\nstartled yesterday at about 4 P.M. with the news of the reappearance of\nthe vessel. I think that some \u00a330 and the replacing the boats will pay\ndamages, but one doesn't think of that.\n\n'We hope to get, at all events, one ready-made boat, so as to cause no\ndelay. The good people at Norfolk Island will be anxious if the vessel\ndoes not reappear soon.\n\n'Auckland, June 6th--\"Southern Cross\" could not sail till May 23. If I\nam not found by them at Norfolk Island on their return, they are to come\non for me. I hope to make a two months' cruise.\n\n'General health quite well, no pain for weeks past. Dr. Goldsboro' says\nI shall be better in a hot climate; but he won't let me out of his hands\nyet.\n\n'I really think I shall do very well by-and-by.\n\n'Your very affectionate\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\n'The repairs took some time (continues Lady Martin). The delay must have\nbeen very trying to the Bishop in his weak state, as it threw out all\nthe plans for the winter voyage; but he showed no signs of fretfulness\nor of a restless desire to go himself to see after matters. The winter\nwas unusually cold after the vessel sailed again; and I used to wonder\nsometimes whether he lay awake listening to the wind that howled in\ngusts round the house; he may have, but certainly there was always a\nlook of unruffled calm and peace on his face when we met in the morning.\n\n\n'Tis enough that Thou shouldst care Why should I the burden bear?\n\n\n'Our dear friend mended very slowly. It was more than a month before he\ncould bear even to be driven up to Bishop's Court to receive the Holy\nCommunion in the private Chapel, and some time longer before he could\nsit through the Sunday services. I cannot be sure whether he went first\non Ascension Day. His own letters may inform you. I only remember how\nthankful and happy he was to be able to get there. He had felt the\nloss of the frequent Communions in which he could join all through his\nillness.'\n\nHe was making a real step towards recovery, and by the 10th of June he\nwas able to go and stay at St. Sepulchre's parsonage with Mr. Dudley,\nand attend the gathering at the Bishop of Auckland's Chapel on St.\nBarnabas Day; but the calm enjoyment and soothing indifference which\nseems so often a privilege of the weakness of recovery was broken by\nfuller tidings respecting the labour traffic that imperilled his work. A\nschooner had come in from Fate with from fifteen to twenty natives\nfrom that and other islands to work in flax mills; and a little later a\nletter arrived from his correspondent in Fiji, showing to what an extent\nthe immigration thither had come, and how large a proportion of the\nyoung men working in the sugar plantations had been decoyed from home on\nfalse pretences.\n\nThis was the point, as far as at the time appeared in New Zealand. If\nviolence had then begun, no very flagrant instances were known; and the\nBishop was not at all averse to the employment of natives, well knowing\nhow great an agent in improvement is civilisation. But to have them\ncarried off without understanding what they were about, and then set to\nhard labour, was quite a different thing.\n\n'The difficulty is (he writes) to prove in a court of law what everyone\nacknowledges to be the case, viz., that the natives of the islands are\ninveigled on board these vessels by divers means, then put under the\nhatches and sold, ignorant of their destination or future employment,\nand without any promises of being returned home.\n\n'It comes to this, though of course it is denied by the planters and the\nQueensland Government, which is concerned in keeping up the trade.\n\n'There will always be some islanders who from a roving nature, or from a\nnecessity of escaping retaliation for some injury done by them, or from\nmere curiosity, will paddle off to a ship and go on board. But they\ncan't understand the white men: they are tempted below to look at some\npresents, or, if the vessel be at anchor, are allowed to sleep on board.\nThen, in the one case, the hatches are clapped on; in the other, sail is\nmade in the night, and so they are taken off to a labour of which they\nknow nothing, among people of whom they know nothing!\n\n'It is the regulation rather than the suppression of the employment of\nnative labourers that I advocate. There is no reason why some of these\nislanders should not go to a plantation under proper regulations. My\nnotion is that--\n\n'1. A few vessels should be licensed for the purpose of conveying these\nislanders backwards and forwards.\n\n'2. That such vessels should be in charge of fit persons, heavily bound\nto observe certain rules, and punishable summarily for violating them.\n\n'3. That the missionaries, wherever they be situated, should be informed\nof the names of the vessels thus licensed, of the sailing masters, &c.\n\n'4. That all other vessels engaged in the trade should be treated as\npirates, and confiscated summarily when caught.\n\n'5. That a small man-of-war, commanded by a man fit for such work,\nshould cruise among the islands from which islanders are being taken.\n\n'6. That special legislative enactments should be passed enabling the\nSydney Court to deal with the matter equitably.\n\n'Something of this kind is the best plan I can suggest.\n\n'It is right and good that the \"Galatea\" should undertake such work; and\nyet we want a little tender to the \"Galatea\" rather than the big vessel,\nas I think my experience of large vessels is that there is too much of\nroutine; and great delay is occasioned by the difficulty of turning a\ngreat ship round, and you can't work near the shore, and even if chasing\na little vessel which could be caught at once in the open sea, you\nmay be dodged by her among islands. Yet the sense of the country is\nexpressed very well by sending \"Captain Edinburgh\" himself to cruise\nbetween New Caledonia, Fiji, and the Kingsmill Islands, for the\nsuppression of the illegal deportation of natives. So reads the despatch\nwhich the Governor showed me the other day. He asked me to give such\ninformation as might be useful to the \"Galatea.\"'\n\nWith the Governor, Sir George Bowen, an old Oxford friend, Bishop\nPatteson spent several days, and submitted to him a memorial to\nGovernment, on the subject, both at home and in Queensland, stating the\nregulations, as above expressed.\n\nThe 'Rosario,' Captain Palmer, had actually captured the 'Daphne,' a\nvessel engaged in capturing natives, and brought her into Sydney, where\nthe master was tried; but though there was no doubt of the outrage, it\nwas not possible to obtain a conviction; and a Fiji planter whom the\nBishop met in Auckland told him that the seizure of the 'Daphne' would\nmerely lead to the exclusion of the better class of men from the trade,\nand that it would not stop the demand for native labourers. It would\nalways pay to 'run' cargoes of natives into the many islets of Fiji; and\nthey would be smuggled into the plantations. And there the government\nwas almost necessarily by the whip. 'I can't talk to them,' said the\nplanter; 'I can only point to what they are to do; and if they are lazy,\nI whip them.'\n\nIt was no wonder that Mr. Dudley thought the Bishop depressed; and,\nmoreover, he over-exerted himself, walking a mile and a half one day,\nand preaching in the little Church of St. Sepulchre's. He longed to\nreturn to St. Barnabas, but was in no state to rough it in a common\nlittle sailing vessel, so he waited on. 'I am very lazy,' he says: 'I\ncan't do much work. Sir William and I read Hebrew, and discuss many\nquestions in which his opinion is most valuable. I have business letters\nto write, e.g., about the deportation of islanders and about a clergyman\nwhom the Melbourne people are helping to go to Fiji.... This is perhaps\na good trial for me, to be sitting lazily here and thinking of others at\nwork!'\n\nThis was written about the middle of July, when the convalescent had\nregained much more strength, and could walk into town, or stand to read\nand write according to his favourite custom, as well as thoroughly enjoy\nconversations with his hosts at Taurarua.\n\n'I never saw (observes Lady Martin) a larger charity united to a more\nliving faith. He knew in Whom he believed; and this unclouded confidence\nseemed to enable him to be gentle and discriminating in his judgments on\nthose whose minds are clouded with doubt.\n\n'It was pleasant to see how at this time his mind went back to the\ninterests which he had laid aside for years. He liked to hear bits of\nHandel, and other old masters, and would go back to recollections of\nforeign travels and of his enthusiasm for music and art as freshly and\nbrightly as he had done in the first days of our acquaintance. But this\nwas only in the \"gloaming\" or late in the evening when he was resting in\nhis easy chair.\n\n'At the end of July we were expecting a young relation and his bride to\nspend a week with us before returning to England, and we gave the Bishop\nthe option of going to Bishop's Court for the time, where he was always\nwarmly welcomed. Some years before, he would certainly have slipped away\nfrom the chatter and bustle; but now he decided to remain with us, and\nthrow himself into the small interests around, in a way which touched\nand delighted the young couple greatly. He put away his natural\nshrinking from society and his student ways, and was willing to enjoy\neverything as it came. We had a curious instance at this time of the\nreal difficulty the Bishop felt about writing sermons. He had not\nattempted to preach, save at Mr. Dudley's Church; but a week or two\nbefore he left us, Archdeacon Maunsell came to beg of him to preach at\nSt. Mary's, where he had often taken service formerly. He promised to\ndo so without any apparent hesitation, and said afterwards to us that he\ncould not refuse such a request. So on Wednesday he began to prepare a\nsermon. He was sitting each morning in the room where I was at work, and\nhe talked to me from time to time of the thoughts that were in his mind.\nThe subject was all that was implied in the words, \"I have called thee\nby thy name,\" the personal knowledge, interest, &c.; and I was rejoicing\nin the treat in store, when, to my dismay, I saw sheet after sheet,\nwhich had been written in his neat, clear hand as though the thoughts\nflowed on without effort, flung into the fire. \"I can't write,\" was\nsaid again and again, and the work put by for another day. At last, on\nSaturday morning, he walked up to the parsonage to make his excuses.\nHappily Dr. Maunsell would not let him off, so on Sunday the Bishop,\nwithout any notes or sermon, spoke to us out of the fulness of his heart\nabout the Mission work, of its encouragements and its difficulties. He\ndescribed, in a way that none can ever forget who heard the plaintive\ntones of his voice and saw his worn face that day, what it was to be\nalone on an island for weeks, surrounded by noisy heathen, and the\ncomfort and strength gained then by the thought that we who have the\nfull privileges of Christian worship and communion were remembering such\nin our prayers.\n\n'Our young friends sailed on Sunday, August 7; and we expected the\nBishop to sail the next day, but the winds were foul and boisterous, and\nwe had him with us till Friday morning, the 12th. Those last days were\nvery happy ones. His thoughts went back to Melanesia and to his work;\nand every evening we drew him to tell of adventures and perils, and to\ndescribe the islands to us in a way he had scarcely ever done before. I\nthink it was partly to please our Maori maiden, who sat by his side on a\nfootstool in the twilight, plying him with questions with so much lively\nnatural interest that he warmed up in return. Generally, he shrank\ninto himself, and became reserved at once if pressed to tell of his\nown doings. He spoke one evening quite openly about his dislike to ship\nlife. We were laughing at some remembrance of the Bishop of Lichfield's\nsatisfaction when once afloat; and he burst into an expression of\nwonder, how anyone could go to sea for pleasure. I asked him what he\ndisliked in particular, and he answered, Everything. That he always felt\ndizzy, headachy, and unable to read with comfort; the food was greasy,\nand there was a general sense of dirt and discomfort. As the time drew\nnigh for sailing, he talked a good deal about the rapidly growing evil\nof the labour trade. He grew very depressed one day, and spoke quite\ndespondingly of the future prospects of the Mission. He told us of one\nisland, Vanua Lava, I think, where, a few years ago, 300 men used to\nassemble on the beach to welcome him. Now, only thirty or forty were\nleft. He saw that if the trade went on at the same rate as it had been\ndoing for the last year or two, many islands would be depopulated, and\neverywhere he must expect to meet with suspicion or open ill will.'\n\n'The next morning the cloud had rolled away, and he was ready to go\nforth in faith to do the work appointed him, leaving the result in God's\nhands. We accompanied him to the boat on Friday morning. Bishop and Mrs.\nCowie came down, and one or two of the clergy, and his two English boys\nwho were to go with him.\n\n'It was a lovely morning. We rejoiced to see how much he had improved\nin his health during his stay. He had been very good and tractable about\ntaking nourishment, and certainly looked and was all the better for\ngenerous diet. He had almost grown stout, and walked upright and\nbriskly. Sir William parted with him on the beach, where we have had\nso many partings; and I meant to do so too, but a friend had brought\nanother boat, and invited me to come, so I gladly went off to the\n\"Southern Cross,\" which was lying about half-a-mile off. The Cowies were\nvery anxious to see the vessel, and the Bishop showed them all about. I\nwas anxious to go down to his cabin, and arrange in safe nooks comforts\nfor his use on the voyage. In half an hour the vessel was ready to sail.\nOne last grasp of the hand, one loving smile, and we parted--never to\nmeet again on earth.'\n\n\nSo far this kind and much-loved friend! And to this I cannot but add an\nextract from the letter she wrote to his sisters immediately after the\nparting, since it adds another touch to the character now ripened:--\n\n'I think you are a little mistaken in your notion that your brother\nwould feel no interest in your home doings. He has quite passed out of\nthat early stage when the mind can dwell on nothing but its own sphere\nof work. He takes a lively interest in all that is going on at home,\nspecially in Church matters, and came back quite refreshed from Bishop's\nCourt with all that Bishop Cowie had told him.\n\n'What he would really dread in England would be the being lionised, and\nbeing compelled to speak and preach here, there, and everywhere. And yet\nhe would have no power to say nay. But the cold would shrivel him up,\nand society--dinners, table talk--would bore him, and he would pine for\nhis warmth and his books. Not a bit the less does he dearly love you\nall.'\n\nThe brother and sisters knew it, and forebore to harass him with\nremonstrances, but resigned themselves to the knowledge that nothing\nwould bring him home save absolute disqualification for his mission.\n\nHis own last letter from Taurarua dwells upon the enjoyment of his\nconversations with Sir William Martin and Bishop Cowie; and then goes\ninto details of a vision of obtaining young English boys to whom a good\neducation would be a boon, bringing them up at St. Barnabas, and then,\nif they turned out fit for the Mission there, they would be prepared--if\nnot, they would have had the benefit of the schooling.\n\nMeantime the 'Southern Cross,' with three of the clergy, had made the\nvoyage according to minute directions from the Bishop. Mr. Atkin made\nhis yearly visit to Bauro. He says:--\n\n'I hardly expected that when we came back we should have found the peace\nstill unbroken between Wango and Hane, but it is. Though not very good\nfriends, they are still at peace. In the chief's house I was presented\nwith a piece of pork, about two pounds, and a dish of tauma (their\nfavourite), a pudding made of yams, nuts, and cocoa-nut milk, and cooked\nby steaming. Fortunately, good manners allowed me to take it away.\nBefore we left the village, it took two women to carry our provisions. A\nlittle boy came back with us, to stay with Taki. The two boys who ought\nto have come last year are very anxious to do so still.\n\n'July 12th.--We anchored the boat on the beach at Tawatana, and I went\ninto the oka (public house) to see the tauma prepared for the feast.\nThere were thirty-eight dishes. The largest, about four feet long, stood\nnearly three feet high. I tried to lift one from the ground, but could\nnot; it must have been five hundredweight; the smallest daras held\neighty or a hundred pounds. I calculated that there was at least two\ntons. When freshly made it is very good, but at these feasts it is\nalways old and sour, and dripping with cocoa-nut oil. The daras, or\nwooden bowls, into which it is put, are almost always carved and inlaid\nwith mother-of-pearl shell.\n\n'There was a great crowd at the landing-place at Saa (Malanta) to meet\nus. Nobody knew Wate at first, but he was soon recognised. The boat was\npulled up into a little river, and everything stealable taken out. We\nthen went up to the village, passing some women crying on the way; here,\nas at Uleawa, crying seems to be the sign of joy, or welcome. Wate's\nfather's new house is the best I have seen in any of these islands. It\nhas two rooms; the drawing-room is about forty-five feet long by thirty\nwide, with a roof projecting about six feet outside the wall at the end\nand four feet at the eaves; the bed-room is about eighteen feet wide,\nso that the whole roof covers about seventy feet by forty. Wate's father\nlives like a chief of the olden time, with large property, but nothing\nof his own; all that he has or gets goes as soon as he gets it to his\nretainers.\n\n'August 3rd.--Went to Heuru. The bwea began about ten o'clock. A bwea\nmeans a stage, but the word is used as we speak of \"the stage.\" There\nis a stage in this case about three feet square, twenty feet from the\nground, walled in to three feet height on three sides, with a ladder of\ntwo stout poles. On the bwea sit or stand two or three men, on either\nside having a bag; visitors run up the ladder, put their money or\nporpoise teeth into the bags if small, give it to the men if large;\nand, if their present is worth it, make a speech a little way down the\nladder. A party from a village generally send up a spokesman, and when\nhe has done go up in a body and give their money. Taki was orator for\nWaiio, and I led the party with my present of beads, which if red or\nwhite pass as money. The object of a bwea is to get money, but it may\nonly be held on proper occasions. The occasion of this was the adoption\nof a Mara lad by the chief man at Heuru; to get money to pay the lad's\nfriends he held a bwea that all his friends might help him. As he was\na connection of Taki's, and Waiio is the richest of the settlements,\nhe got great spoils from thence.... At Tawatana the young men put on\npetticoats of cocoa-nut leaves, and danced their graceful \"mao.\" I had\nonly seen it before at Norfolk Island; it is very pretty, but must be\nvery difficult to learn; they say that not many know it. At Nora they\ndanced another most dirty dance: all the performers were daubed from\nhead to foot with mud, and wore masks covered with mud and ashes; the\naim of the dance, as far as I could see, was to ridicule all sorts\nof infirmities and imbecilities, tottering, limping, staggering, and\nreeling, but in time and order. One man had a basket of dripping mud\non his head which was streaming down his face and back all the time. A\ngreat point is that the actors should not be recognised. Mr. Brooke was\nlikewise dropped at Florida. After this the rest of the party had gone\non to Mota, where George Sarawia was found working away well at\nhis school, plenty of attendants, and the whole place clean,\nwell-ventilated, and well-regulated.\n\nA watch sent out as a present to Sarawia was a delight which he could\nquite appreciate, and he had sent back very sensible right-minded\nletters. Of Bishop Patteson's voyage the history is pieced together from\ntwo letters, one to the sisters, the other to the Bishop of Lichfield.\nNeither was begun till September, after which they make a tolerably full\ndiary.\n\n'More than five weeks have passed since I left New Zealand, more than\nthree since I left Norfolk Island. Mr. Codrington and I reached Mota on\nthe morning of the eighth day after leaving Norfolk Island. I spent but\nhalf an hour on shore with George Sarawia and his people; sailed across\nto Aroa and Matlavo, where I landed eight or ten of our scholars; and\ncame on at once to the Solomon Islands. On Sunday morning (September 4)\nwhat joy to find Mr. Atkin well and hearty!\n\n'Mr. Brooke, who took up his abode at the village of Mboli, had with him\nDudley Lankana and Richard Maru, but they were a good deal absorbed by\ntheir relations, and not so useful to him as had been hoped, though they\nkept out of heathen habits, and remained constant to their intention of\nreturning.\n\n'\"Brooke,\" says the Bishop, \"knows and speaks the one language of\nAnudha very well, for there is but one language, with a few dialectical\nvarieties of course.\"\n\n'A nice little house was built for him at Mboli, which I have always\nthought to be a very healthy place.\n\n'The coral grit and sand runs a long way in shore under cocoa-nut\ngroves, but there is no very dense undergrowth. The wind when easterly\nblows freely along and is drawn rather upon the shore there. Two miles\nto windward of Mboli is the good harbour of Sara, where the vessel\nanchored with us.\n\n'Brooke's house was raised on poles, five feet from the ground; the\nfloor made of neat smooth bamboos, basket-worked. He had his table and\ntwo benches, one easy cane chair, cork bed, boxes, harmonium, and plenty\nof food.\n\n'Close to his house is the magnificent kiala, or boat house, about\n180 feet long, 42 high, and about as many feet broad, a really grand,\nimposing place. Here Brooke, in surplice, with his little band, had his\nSunday services, singing hymns, and chanting Psalms, in parts, in the\npresence of from 150 to 300, once nearly 400 people, to whom he spoke of\ncourse, usually twice, making two sermonets.\n\n'The island is unlike any other; much more open, much less bush, but it\nis not coral crag that crops out, but almost bare reddish rock, with but\nlittle soil on it, and the population, which is large, finds it hard to\nprocure food.\n\n'Three brothers, Takua, Savai, and Dikea, are the principal men. Local\nchiefs exercise some small authority in each village. Anudha, or Aunta,\nis properly the name of a small island, for there is no one great\nmainland, but many islands separated by very narrow salt-water creeks\nand rivers, along which a skiff may be sculled.\n\n'Brooke has been over every part of it. His only difficulties arose from\njealousy on the part of Takua and Savai, who, living at Mboli, were\nvery wroth at his not being their tame Pakeha, at his asserting his\nindependence, his motive in coming to teach all, and make known to all\nalike a common message. Especially they were indignant at his making\nup small parties of boys from different parts of the island, as they\nof course wanted to monopolise him, and through him the trade. He has\nevidently been firm and friendly too, keeping his temper, yet speaking\nout very plainly. The result, as far as bringing boys goes, is that\nwe have now thirteen on board, including Dudley and Richard, from six\ndifferent parts of the island. But so vexed was Takua, that he would not\nfulfil his promise of sending his two little girls.\n\n'The fortnight spent in the Solomon Islands has been very fine;\nwinds very light, and very little rain. We have at length got Stephen\nTaroniara's child, a little girl of about seven years old, Paraitaku,\nfrom the old grandmother and aunts. So, thank God, she will be brought\nup as a Christian child. She is a dear little thing.\n\n'This work of Mr. Atkin and Mr. Brooke in the easterly and more\nnorth-westerly parts of the Solomon Islands respectively, is the nearest\napproach that has yet been made to regular missionary operations there.\nOur short visits in the \"Southern Cross,\" or my short three to ten days'\nvisits on shore are all useful as preparing the way for something more.\nBut it is the quiet, lengthened staying for some months among these\nislanders that gives opportunities for knowing them and their ways. They\ndo everything with endless talk and discussion about it; and it is only\nby living with, and moving about constantly among them, that any hold\ncan be gained over them. I think that the Mission is now in a more\nhopeful state than ever before in these islands.\n\n'Our parties of scholars are large. They trust quite little fellows\nwith us, and for any length of time. True, these little fellows cannot\nexercise any influence for years to come; but if we take young men or\nlads of sixteen or eighteen years old, it needs as many years to qualify\nthem (with heathen habits to be unlearned, and with the quickness of\napprehension of new teaching already gone) for being useful among their\npeople as would suffice for the arrival of these young children at\nmature age.'\n\nThree Tikopian giants had made a visit at Mota in the course of this\nyear, attracted by the fame of the hospitality and fertility of the\nplace. George Sarawia had got on well with them, and tried to keep them\nto meet the Bishop, but one of them fell sick, and the others took him\naway. This was hailed as a possible opening to those two curious\nisles, Oanuta and Tikopia, in so far as the 'Southern Cross' work was\nconcerned. The Bishop continues, to his former Primate:--\n\n'On the whole, things seem to be going on favourably. The Banks\nIslanders are very shy now of the vessels sent to carry off men to Fiji\nor Queensland. They will find their way into the Solomon Islands soon.\nOne, indeed, a cutter, has taken about twenty men from Ulava. They were\nall kept under hatches. We warn the people wherever we go.\n\n'The pressing question now is how to supply our young men and women,\nmarried Christian couples, with proper occupations to prevent their\nacquiescing in an indolent, useless, selfish life.\n\n'When their \"education is finished,\" they have no profession, no need\nto work to obtain a livelihood for themselves, wives, and children. They\ncan't all be clergymen, nor all even teachers in such a sense as to make\nit a calling and occupation.\n\n'Some wants they have--houses fit for persons who like reading and\nwriting, a table, a bench, a window becomes necessary. Coral lime houses\nwould be good for them. They make and wear light clothing, they wash and\ncook on new principles, &c.; but these wants are soon supplied. Only\na practical sense of the duty of helping others to know what they have\nbeen taught will keep them from idleness and its consequences. And how\nfew of us, with no other safeguard against idleness, would be other than\nidle!\n\n'Some, I think, may be helped by being associated with us, and with\ntheir friends of the Solomon Isles, New Hebrides, in spending some\nmonths on shore, where they would soon acquire a fair knowledge of the\nlanguage, and might be of great use to less advanced friends. This would\nbe a real work for them. Just as Mission work is the safeguard of\nthe settled Church, so it must be the safeguard of these young native\nChurches.\n\n'No doubt the Missionary spirit infused into the Samoan and Karotongan\nChurches kept them living and fruitful. I am trying to think upon these\npoints.\n\n'If the contrast be too violent between the Mission station with its\ndaily occupations and the island life, it becomes very difficult for the\nnatives to perpetuate the habits of the one amidst the circumstances of\nthe other.\n\n'The habits acquired at Norfolk Island ought to be capable of being\neasily transferred to the conditions of the Melanesian isles.\n\n'They ought, I think, to wear (in the hot summer and on week days) light\nloose clothing, which could be worn at home; or clothing of the same\nshape and fit (though perhaps of warm materials) might be worn.\n\n'The circumstances of the two places must be different, but we must\nminimise the difference as much as possible.\n\n'I often think of the steady-going English family, with regular family\nprayers, and attendance twice at Church on Sunday, and the same people\nspending two months on the Continent. No opportunity is made for family\nprayers before the table d'h\u00f4te breakfast; and at least one part of the\nSunday is spent in the Roman Catholic Cathedral, or in a different way\nfrom the home use. And if this be so with good respectable folk among\nourselves, what must be the effect of altered circumstances on our\nMelanesians?\n\n'It is not easy to keep up the devotional life on shore at home, or in\nthe islands, or on board ship with the same regularity. And where\nthe convert must be more dependent than we ought to be on external\nopportunities, the difficulty is increased. So if the alteration be as\nlittle as possible, we gain something, we make it easier to our scholars\nto perpetuate uninterruptedly the Norfolk Island life.\n\n'To live with them and try to show them how, on their island, to keep up\nthe religious life unchanged amidst the changed outward circumstances is\na good way, but then we can't live among them very long, and our example\nis so often faulty.\n\n'Curiously do these practical difficulties make us realise that there\nmay really be some benefit in artificial wants; and that probably the\nmost favourable situation for the development of the human character is\na climate where the necessaries of life are just sufficiently difficult\nof production to require steady industry, and yet that nature should not\nbe so rigorous as to make living so hard a matter as to occupy the whole\nattention, and dwarf the mental faculties.'\n\nHow remarkable, is the date of the following thoughts, almost like a\nforeboding:--\n\n'September 19th, 10 A.M. (to the sisters).--We are drawing near Santa\nCruz, about 100 miles off. How my mind is filled with hopes, not\nunmingled with anxiety. It is more than eleven years since we sought to\nmake an opening here, and as yet we have no scholar. Last year, I went\nashore at a large village called Taive, about seven miles from the scene\nof our disaster. Many canoes came to us from that spot, and we stood in\nquite close in the vessel, so that people swam off to us.\n\n'They are all fighting among the various villages and neighbouring\nislets of the Reef Archipelago, twenty miles north of the main island.\nIt is very difficult what to do or how to try to make a beginning.\nGod will open a door in His own good time. Yet to see and seize on the\nopportunity when given is difficult. How these things make one feel more\nthan ever the need of Divine guidance, the gift of the Spirit of\nWisdom and Counsel and ghostly strength. To human eyes it seems almost\nhopeless. Yet other islanders were in a state almost as hopeless\napparently. Only there is a something about Santa Cruz which is probably\nvery unreal and imaginary, which seems to present unusual difficulties.\nIn a few days, I may, by God's goodness, be writing to you again about\nour visit to the group. And if the time be come, may God grant us some\nopening, and grace to use it aright!\n\n'At Piteni, Matama, Nupani, Analogo, I can talk somewhat to the people,\nwho are Polynesians, and speak a dialect connected with the Maori of New\nZealand. I think that the people of Indeni (the native name for Santa\nCruz) are also more than half Polynesians; but I don't know a single\nsentence of their language properly. I can say nothing about it. They\ndestroy and distort their organs of pronunciation by excessive use of\nthe betel-nut and pepper leaf and lime, so that no word is articulately\npronounced. It is very hard to catch the sounds they make amidst the\nhubbub on deck or the crowds on shore; yet I think that if we had two\nor three lads quietly with us at Norfolk Island, we should soon make out\nsomething.\n\n'Don't think I am depressed by this. I only feel troubled by the sense\nthat I frequently lose opportunities from indolence and other faults. I\nam quite aware that we can do very little to bring about an introduction\nto these islanders; and I fully believe that in some quite unexpected\nway, or at all events in some way brought about independently of our\nefforts, a work will be begun here some day, in the day when God sees it\nto be fit and right.\n\n\n(To the Bishop of Lichfield.)\n\n\n'September 27th.--Leaving Santa Cruz we came to this group from Ulava\nwith light fair winds; left Ulava on Saturday at 6 P.M., and sighted the\nisland, making the west side of Graciosa Bay on the next Wednesday; sea\nquite smooth; thermometer reached 92 degrees.\n\n'Sunday.--Very calm, but a light breeze took us into Nukapu. A canoe\ncame off, I made them understand that it was our day of rest, and that\nI would visit them atainu (to-morrow), a curious word. I gave a few\npresents, and we slowly sailed on.\n\n'Monday, 6 A.M.--Off Piteni, canoe off, went ashore, low tide, got into\na canoe, and so reached the beach, people well behaved, much talk of\ntaking lads, quite well understood. The speech is (you remember) very\nMaori indeed. There were some nice lads, but no one came away. Four\ncanoes from Taumaho were here, and two Piteni men came back from Taumaho\nwhile I was on shore.\n\n'At Nukapu at 2.30 P.M. High water, went in easily over the reef by a\nshort cut, not by our old winding narrow passage. I was greatly pleased\nby the people asking me on board, \"Where is Bisambe?\" \"Here I am.\" \"No,\nno, the Bisambe tuai (of old). Your mutua (father). Is he below? Why\ndoesn't he come up with some hatchets?\"\n\n'So you see they remember you. A tall middle-aged man, Moto, said that\nhe was with us in the boat in 1859, and he and I remembered the one-eyed\nman who piloted us.\n\n'I went here also into the houses. Here is a quaint place; many things,\nnot altogether idols, but uncanny, and feared by the people. Women\ndanced in my honour, people gave small presents, &c., but no volunteers.\nI could talk with them with sufficient ease; and took my time, lying at\nmy ease on a good mat with cane pillow, Anaiteum fashion. I told them\nthat they had seen on board many little fellows from many islands; that\nthey need not fear to let their children go; that I could not spend time\nand property in coming year by year and giving presents when they were\nunwilling to listen to what I said, but they only made unreal promises,\nput boys in the boat merely to take them out again, and so we went away\natrakoi.'\n\nThere is a little weariness of spirits--not of spirit--in the\ncontemporaneous words to the home party:--\n\n'I don't know what to write about this voyage. You have heard all about\ntropical vegetation, Santa Cruz canoes, houses, customs, &c. If indeed I\ncould draw these fellows, among whom I was lying on a mat on Monday; if\nyou could see the fuzzy heads, stained white and red, the great shell\nornaments on the arms, the round plate of shell as big as a small dinner\nplate hanging over the chest, the large holes in the lobes of the ears\nrilled with perhaps fifteen or twenty rings of tortoise-shell hung on to\none another; the woven scarves and girdles stained yellow with turmeric\nand stamped with a black pattern: then it would make a curious sight for\nyou; and your worthy brother, much at his ease, lying flat on his back\non two or three mats, talking to the people about his great wish to take\naway some of the jolly little fellows to whom he was giving fish-hooks,\nwould no doubt be very \"interesting.\" But really all this has become so\ncommonplace, that I can't write about it with any freshness. The volcano\nin this group, Tenakulu, is now active, and was a fine sight at night,\nthough the eruption is not continuous as it was in 1859.\n\n'October 9th--Near Ambrym [to the Bishop]. Some people from Aruas, the\nlarge western bay of Vanua Lava, had been taken by force to Queensland\nor Fiji. The natives simply speak of \"a ship of Sydney.\"\n\n'Wednesday.--Aroa and Matlavo. 'Henry Tagalana and Joanna and their baby\nElizabeth, William Pasvorang and Lydia, and six others, all baptized,\nand four communicants among them, had spent five weeks on shore; a very\nnice set. Six of them lived together at Aroa, had regular morning and\nevening prayers, sang their hymns, and did what they could, talking to\ntheir people. Codrington went over in a canoe, and spent four days with\nthem, much pleased. We brought three scholars for George from thence.\n\n'Thursday, Mota.--Codrington says the time is come, in his opinion, for\nsome steps to be taken to further the movement in Mota. Grown-up people\nmuch changed, improved, some almost to be regarded as catechumens.\n\n'We left Mota, bringing all that were to come; indeed, we scarcely know\nwhat it is nowadays to lose a boy or man--a great blessing. There had\nbeen another visit of eleven canoes of Tikopians; friendly, though\nunable to converse, and promising to return again in two months.\n\n'October 11th.--A topsail schooner in sight, between Ambrym and\nPaama--one of those kidnapping vessels. I have any amount of (to me)\nconclusive evidence of downright kidnapping. But I don't think I could\nprove any case in a Sydney Court. They have no names painted on some of\ntheir vessels, and the natives can't catch nor pronounce the names of\nthe white men on board. They describe their appearance accurately, and\nwe have more than suspicions about some of these fellows.\n\n'The planters in Queensland and Fiji, who create the demand for\nlabourers, say that they don't like the kidnapping any more than I do.\nThey pay occasionally from \u00a36 to \u00a312 for an \"imported labourer,\" and\nthey don't want to have him put into their hands in a sullen irritable\nstate of mind.'\n\nTouching at Nengone, the Bishop saw Mr. Creagh, who had recently visited\nNew Caledonia, whither Basset, the poor chief who had been banished\nto Tahiti for refusing to receive a French priest, had been allowed to\nreturn, on the Emperor Napoleon forbidding interference with Protestant\nmissionaries or their converts.\n\nWadrokala and his wife and child were brought away, making up a number\nof 65 black passengers, besides the 60 scholars already at Norfolk\nIsland. The weather throughout the voyage had been unusually still, with\nfrequent calms, the sea with hardly any swell. And this had been\nvery happy for the Bishop; but he was less well than when he had left\nTaurarua, and was unequal to attending the General Synod in New Zealand,\nfar more so to another campaign in Australia, though he cherished the\ndesign of going to see after the condition of the labourers in Fiji.\n\nHe finishes his long letter to his former Primate:--\n\nIt is perhaps cowardly to say that I am thankful that I am not a\nclergyman in England. I am not the man even in a small parish to stand\nup and fight against so many many-headed monsters. I should give in, and\nshirk the contest. The more I pray that you may have strength to endure\nit. I don't think I was ever pugnacious in the way of controversy; and I\nam very very thankful to be out of it.'\n\nIndeed, the tone of the references to Church matters at home had become\nincreasingly cautious; and one long letter to Mrs. Martyn he actually\ntore up, lest it should do harm. His feeling more and more was to wish\nfor patience and forbearance, and to deprecate violent words or hasty\nactions--looking from his hermit life upon all the present distress more\nas a phase of Church history that would develop into some form of good,\nand perhaps hardly sensible of the urgency of the struggle and defence.\nFor peace and shelter from the strife of tongues was surely one of the\ncompensating blessings conferred on him. But, as all his companions\nagree, he was never the same man again after his illness. There was a\nlower level of spirits and of energy, a sensitiveness to annoyances, and\nan indisposition to active exertion, which distressed him.\n\nHis day began as early as ever, and was mapped out as before, for\nclasses of all kinds, Hebrew and reading; but he seldom left his\nroom, except for Chapel and meals, being unable to take much out-door\nexercise. He did not see so much of his elder scholars as before,\nchiefly because the very large number of newer pupils made it necessary\nto employ them more constantly; but he never failed to give each of them\nsome instruction for a short time every day, though with more\neffort, for indeed almost everything had become a burthen to him. Mr.\nCodrington's photograph taken at this time shows how much changed and\naged he had become. The quiet in which he now lived resulted in much\nletter-writing, taking up correspondences that had slumbered in more\nbusy times, as his mind flew back to old friends: though, indeed, the\nletters given in the preceding Memoir must not be taken by any means to\nrepresent the numbers he wrote. When he speaks of sending thirty-five by\none mail, perhaps only one or two have come into my hands; and of those\nonly such portions are of course taken as illustrate his life, work,\ncharacter, and opinions without trenching on the reserve due to\nsurvivors. Thus multitudes of affectionate letters, participating in\nthe joys and sorrows of his brother, his cousins and friends, can\nnecessarily find no place here; though the idea of his character is\nhardly complete without direct evidence of the unbroken or more truly\nincreasing sympathy he had with those whom he had not met for sixteen\nyears, and his love for his brother's wife and children whom he had\nnever seen.\n\nSoon after his return to Norfolk Island came a packet with a three\nmonths' accumulation of home despatches. He read and replied in his old\nconversational way, with occasionally a revelation of his deep inner\nself:--\n\n'I have been thinking, dear old Fan, about your words, \"there would be\na good deal to give and take if you came home for a time;\" less perhaps\nnow than before I was somewhat tamed by my illness. I see more of the\nmeaning of that petition, \"from all blindness of heart, from pride,\nvainglory, and hypocrisy; and from all uncharitableness.\"\n\n'Alas! you don't know what a misspent life I looked back upon, never\nlosing hold, God be praised, of the sure belief in His promises\nof pardon and acceptance in Christ. I certainly saw that a want\nof sympathy, an indifference to the feelings of others, want of\nconsideration, selfishness, in short, lay at the bottom of very much\nthat I mourned over.\n\n'There is one thing, that I don't mention as an excuse for a fault which\nreally does exist, but simply as a fact, viz., that being always, even\nnow, pressed for time, I write very abruptly, and so seem to be much\nmore positive and dogmatic than I hope, and really think, is the case.\nI don't remember ever writing you a letter in which I was able to write\nbut as I would have talked out the matter under discussion in all its\nbearings. This arises partly from impatience, my pen won't go fast\nenough; but as I state shortly my opinion, without going through the\nreasons which lead me to adopt it, no doubt much that I say seems to be\nwithout reason, and some of it no doubt is.'\n\nI need make no excuse for giving as much as possible of the\ncorrespondence of these last few months, when--though the manner of his\nactual departure was violent, there was already the shadow, as it were,\nof death upon him.\n\nTo Sir J. T. Coleridge the letter was:--\n\n\n'December 9, 1870.\n\n'My dearest Uncle,--How long it is since I wrote to you!... And yet it\nis true that I think more often of you than of anyone, except Jem, Joan\nand Fan. In fact, your name meets me so often in one way or another--in\npapers from England, and much more in books continually in use, that\nI could not fail to think of you if I had not the true, deep love that\nbrings up the old familiar face and voice so often before my eyes....\n\n'I wish I could talk with you, or rather hear you answer my many\nquestions on so many points. I get quite bewildered sometimes. It is\nhard to read the signs of our times; so hard to see where charity\nends and compromise begins, where the old opinion is to be stoutly\nmaintained, and where the new mode of thought is to be accepted. I\nsuppose there always was some little difference among divines as to\n\"fundamentals,\" and no ready-made solution exists of each difficult\nquestion as it emerges.\n\n'There is reason for that being so, because it is part of our duty and\ntrial to exercise our own power of discretion and judgment. But so\nmuch now seems to be left to individuals, and so little is accepted on\nauthority. In Church matters I have for years thought Synods to be\nthe one remedy. If men meet and talk over a difficulty, there is a\nprobability of men's understanding each other's motives, and thus\npreserving charity. If one-twentieth part of a diocese insists upon\ncertain observances which nineteen-twentieths repudiate, it seems clear\nthat the very small minority is put out of court. Yet how often the\nsmall minority contains more salt than the large majority!\n\n'I know indeed I am speaking honestly, that I am not worthy to\nunderstand dear Mr. Keble on many points. \"The secret of our Lord\"\nis with such men, and we fail to understand him, nous autres I mean,\noutside the sanctuary. Yet there is, I must confess it to you, my dear\nuncle, a something about his book on Eucharistic Adoration which has the\ncharacter to me of foreign rather than of English divinity. I don't\nwant to be exclusive, far from it. I don't want to be Anglican versus\nPrimitive; but yet somehow, to me, there is a something which belongs\nmore to French or Italian than to English character about some parts of\nthe book. It is no doubt because I can't see what to his eye was plain.'\n\n[An account of the voyage follows as before given.] 'The islanders\nare beginning to find out the true character of the many small\nvessels cruising among them, taking away people to the plantations in\nQueensland, Fiji, &c. So now force is substituted for deceit. Natives\nare enticed on board under promises (by signs of course, for nowhere can\nthey talk to them) of presents, tempted down below into the hold to get\ntomahawks, beads, biscuit, &c., then the hatches are clapped on, and\nthey are stolen away. I have to try and write a statement about it,\nwhich is the last thing I can do properly.'\n\n[Then the history of the weddings and baptisms.] 'There is another\npleasant feature to be noticed. The older scholars, almost all of whom\nare Banks Islanders, talk and arrange among themselves plans for helping\nnatives of the islands. Thus Edward Wogale, of Mota, volunteers to go\nto Anudha, 300 or 400 miles off, to stay there with his friend Charles\nSapinamba of that island, to aid him in working among his people. Edward\nis older and knows more than Charles. They talk in Mota, but Edward will\nsoon have to speak the tongue of Anudha when living there. B---- and his\nwife offer to go to Santa Maria, Robert Pantatun and his wife to go to\nMatlavo, John Nonono to go to Savo, and Andrew Lalena also. This is\nvery comforting to me. It is bona fide giving up country and home. It is\nindicative of a real desire to make known the Gospel to other lands.\nSo long as they will do this, so long I think we may have the blessed\nassurance that God's Holy Spirit is indeed working in their hearts. Dear\nfellows! It makes me very thankful.\n\n'My clerical staff is increased by a Mr. Jackson, long a friend and\nsupporter of the Mission....\n\n'Atkin is a steady-going fellow, most conscientious, with a good\nhead-piece of his own, diligent and thoughtful rather than quick. He\nand Bice read Hebrew daily with me, and they will have soon a very fair\nknowledge of it. Joe Atkin knows his Greek Testament very fairly indeed:\nEllicott, Trench, Alford, Wordsworth and others are in use among us.\n\n'I wish you could see some of these little fellows. It is, I suppose,\nnatural that an old bachelor should have pleasure in young things about\nhim, ready-made substitutes for children of his own. I do like them.\nWith English children, save and except Pena, I never was at my ease,\npartly I think from a worse than foolish self-consciousness about so\nugly a fellow not being acceptable to children. Anyhow, I don't feel\nshy with Melanesians; and I do like the little things about me, even\nthe babies come to me away from almost anyone, chiefly, perhaps, because\nthey are acquainted at a very early age with a corner of my room where\ndwells a tin of biscuits.\n\n'To this day I shut up and draw into my shell when any white specimen\nof humanity looms in sight. How seldom do one's natural tastes coincide\nwith one's work. And I may be deceiving myself all along. It is true\nthat I have a very small acquaintance with men; not so very small an\nacquaintance with men passed from this world who live in their books;\nand some living authors I read--our English Commentators are almost all\nalive.\n\n'I think that I read too exclusively one class of books. I am not drawn\nout of this particular kind of reading, which is alone really pleasant\nand delightful to me, by meeting with persons who discuss other matters.\nSo I read divinity almost if not quite exclusively. I make dutiful\nefforts to read a bit of history or poetry, but it won't do. My\nrelaxation is in reading some old favourite, Jackson, Hooker, Jeremy\nTaylor, &c. Not that I know much about them, for my real studying time\nis occupied in translating and teaching. And so I read these books,\nand others some German, occasionally (but seldom) French: Reuss, for\nexample, and Guizot. And on the whole I read a fair amount of Hebrew;\nthough even now it is only the narrative books that I read, so to say,\nrapidly and with ease.\n\n'I wish some of our good Hebrew scholars were sound Poly- and Melanesian\nscholars also. I believe it to be quite true that the mode of thought of\na South Sea islander resembles very closely that of a Semitic man. And\ntheir state of mental knowledge or ignorance, too. It is certainly a\nmistake to make the Hebrew language do the work of one of our elaborated\nEuropean languages, the products of thoughts and education and literary\nknowledge which the Hebrew knew nothing of. A Hebrew grammar constructed\non the principle of a Greek or a Latin grammar is simply a huge\nanachronism.\n\n'How did the people of the time of Moses, or David, or Jeremiah think?\nis the first question. How did they express their thoughts? is the\nsecond. The grammar is but the mode adapted in speech for notifying and\ncommunicating thoughts. That the Jew did not think, consequently did\nnot speak, like a European is self-evident. Where are we to find people,\nchildren in thought, keenly alive to the outer world, impressible,\nemotional, but devoid of the power of abstract thought, to whom long\ninvolved processes of thought and long involved sentences of speech are\nunknown? Consequently, the contrivances for stringing together dependent\nclauses don't exist. Then some wiseacre of an 18th or 19th century\nGerman writes a grammar on the assumption that a paulo-post-futurum is\nnecessarily to be provided for the unfortunate Israelite who thought and\ntalked child's language. Now, we Melanesians habitually think and\nspeak such languages. I assure you the Hebrew narrative viewed from the\nMelanesian point of thought is wonderfully graphic and lifelike. The\nEnglish version is dull and lifeless in comparison. No modern Hebrew\nscholar agrees with any other as to the mode of construing Hebrew.\nAnyone makes anything out of those unfortunately misused tenses.\nDelitzsch, Ewald, Gesenius, Perowne, Thrupp, Kay too, give no rule by\nwhich the scholar is to know from the grammar whether the time is past,\npresent, or future, i.e., whether such and such a verse is a narrative\nof a past fact or the prophecy of a future one. It is much a matter of\nexegesis; but exegesis not based on grammar is worth very little.\n\n'Really the time is not inherent in the tense at all. But that is a\nstrong assertion, which I think I could prove, give me time and a power\nof writing clearly. Sir William Martin is trying to prove it.\n\n'All languages of the South Seas are constructed on the same principle.\nWe say, \"When I get there, it will be right.\" But all South Sea\nIslanders, \"I am there, and it is right.\" The time is given by something\nin the context which indicates that the speaker's mind is in past,\npresent, or future time. \"In the beginning God made\" rightly, so, but\nnot because the tense gives the past sense, for the same tense very\noften can't have anything to do with a past sense, but in the beginning\nindicates a past time.\n\n'The doctrine of the Vaw conversive is simply a figment of so-called\ngrammarians; language is not an artificial product, but a natural mode\nof expressing ideas.\n\n'And if they assume that Hebrew has a perfect and imperfect, or past and\nfuture (for the grammars use all kinds of names), why on earth\nshould people who have, on their showing, a past tense, use a clumsy\ncontrivance of turning a future tense into a past, and vice versa?\n\n'If people had remembered that language is not a trick invented and\ncontrived by scholars at their desks, but a natural gift, simple at\nfirst, and elaborated by degrees, they could not have made such a mess.\n\n'The truth is, I think, that such a contrivance was devised to make\nHebrew do what European scholars decided it must do, these very men\nbeing ignorant of languages in a simple uncivilised form.\n\n'But, my dear Uncle, what a prose! Only, as I think a good deal about\nit, you will excuse it, I know.\n\n'Well, it is time for the weddings! The Chapel looks so pretty, and\n(you can't believe it) so do the girls, Emma, Eliza, and Minnie, to be\nmarried to Edwin, Mulewasawasa, Thomas. The native name is a baptismal\none, nevertheless, and a good fellow he is, my head nurse in my illness.\n\n'I can't write about politics. Then comes the astounding news of this\nfearful war. What am I to say to my Melanesians about it? Do these\nnations believe in the Gospel of peace and goodwill? Is the Sermon\non the Mount a reality or not? Is such conduct a repudiation of\nChristianity or not? Are nations less responsible than individuals? What\npossible justification is there for this war? It is fearful, fearful on\nevery ground. Oh, this mighty belauded nineteenth-century civilisation!\n\n'Yet society has improved in some ways. Even war is not without its\naccompaniment of religion. And it brings out kindly sympathy and\nstimulates works of charity. But what a fearful responsibility lies\nupon the cause of the war. It is hard to acquit Louis Napoleon of being\nreally the cause.\n\n'There would be great pleasure in seeing all the younger ones, not equal\nof course to that of seeing you all; but as I get older in my ways and\nhabits, I think that my mind goes back more to the young ones. True, I\nhave a large family about me, 145 Melanesians here now. Yet there is\nthe want of community of thought on some subjects, and the difficulty\nof perfectly easy communication with them. No Melanesian tongue is like\nEnglish to me.\n\n'I wrote a first sheet, but filled it up with mere stupid thoughts about\nquestions of the day, not worth sending. And this long letter, badly\nwritten, too, will weary your eyes.\n\n'I must end. My kindest love to Aunt, Mary, and all. Always, my dearest\nUncle,\n\n'Your loving and grateful Nephew,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nTwo letters of December 12 follow; the first to Bishop Abraham.\n\n\nMrs. Palmer's picture of the brides, at the last of the weddings the\nBishop so enjoyed, may be acceptable. It went to Mrs. Abraham by the\nsame opportunity:--\n\n'Three were married a short time before Christmas; they, with five\nothers, were baptized on Advent Sunday. They had been here about\nthirteen months, and had got on very well during that time, improved in\nevery way. I think some of them are loveable girls, and it is pleasant\nto see them so happy and at home here.\n\n'They were a queer-looking set when they first came, or I suppose I\nthought them so.\n\n'I got some of the older girls to give them a good wash all over in warm\nwater, and then gave them the new clothes. They looked at me in such a\ncurious way. They had heard of me, \"Palmer's wife,\" from the others, but\nhad not seen an Englishwoman before. A few days after they came, I ran\ninto their room with my hair down, and they exclaimed with wonder \"We\nura ras\" (\"very good\"), almost shouting, and then I told them to\nfeel it, and some kissed it with gentle reverence, as though it were\nsomething very extraordinary.\n\n'They are very kind and obliging in doing anything I want. They have\nto be looked after a good bit, but are very obedient. I did not imagine\nthey would give so little trouble. They are great chatterboxes, and very\nnoisy, but all in an innocent way. They seldom quarrel among themselves.\nI don't think their feelings are so strong as those of the Maoris,\neither of love or hate.\n\n'I wish you could have been present at the baptism. They looked so\nsolemn, and spoke out very distinctly. They wore white calico jackets,\nand the Font was prettily decorated. The whole service was impressive,\nand not less so our good Bishop's voice and manner. They looked very\nnice, and it was amusing to see how they took it. Only one could I get\nto look in the glass; and she said the flowers were too large: the other\ntwo only submitted to being beautified.'\n\n\nI return to the Bishop's correspondence:--\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: Fourth Sunday in Advent, 1870.\n\n'My dearest Joan,--I am choosing--a strange moment to write in. It is\n8.30 A.M., and in an hour I am going to the New Church, built by the\nPitcairners, to ordain Mr. C. Bice, Priest. I was up as usual early this\nmorning, and I am not well, and feeling queer, and having already\nread and had Morning Chapel Service, I take now this means of quieting\nmyself. You see it is nearly three miles to the \"town;\" the service will\nbe nearly three hours; I don't quite know how I shall get through it.\nI thought of having the service here; but our little Chapel won't hold\neven our Melanesian party (80 out of 145) who attend public prayers, and\nof course the islanders want to see, and it is good for them to see an\nordination.\n\n'This is my first expedition to the town since I came from the islands,\nI shall have a horse in case I am very tired, but I would rather walk\nall the way if I can.\n\n'Just now I am headachy, and seedy too; but I think it is all coming\nright again. I hope to have a bright happy Christmas.\n\n'After this day's Ordination we shall number one Bishop, six Priests,\nand one Deacon. There are three or four Melanesians who ought soon to be\nordained; and if it is possible for me to spend two or three months this\nnext winter at Mota, I must read with George, and perhaps ordain him\nPriest. It troubles me much that during all these summer months there\ncan be no administration of the Holy Communion, though there are six\ncommunicants, besides George, now living for good at Mota. There will be\nfour or five next year taking up their abode at the neighbouring island\nof Aroa.\n\n'Dear Joan! At such times as these, when one is engaged in a specially\nsolemn work, there is much heart-searching, and I can't tell you how my\nconscience accuses me of such systematic selfishness during many long\nyears. I do see it now, though only in part. I mean, I see how I was all\nalong making self the centre, and neglecting all kinds of duties, social\nand others, in consequence.\n\n'I think that self-consciousness, a terrible malady, is one's misfortune\nas well as one's fault. But the want of any earnest effort at correcting\na fault is worse perhaps than the fault itself. And I feel such great,\nsuch very great need for amendment here. This great fault brings its\npunishment in part even now. I mean, there is a want of brightness,\ncheerfulness, elasticity of mind about the conscious man or woman. He\nis prone to have gloomy, narrow, sullen thoughts, to brood over fancied\ntroubles and difficulties; because, making everything refer to and\ndepend on self, he naturally can get none of that comfort which they\nenjoy whose minds naturally turn upwards for help and light.\n\n'In this way I do suffer a good deal. My chariot-wheels often drag very\nheavily. I am not often in what you may call good spirits. And yet I\nam aware that I am writing now under the influence of a specially\ndepressing disorder, and that I may misinterpret my real state of mind.\nNo one ought to be happier, as far as advantages of employment in a good\nservice, and kindness of friends, &c., can contribute to make one happy.\nAnd, on the whole, I know my life is a happy one. I am sure that I have\na far larger share of happiness than falls to the lot of most people.\nOnly I do feel very much the lack, almost the utter lack of just that\ngrace which was so characteristic of our dear Father, that simplicity\nand real humility and truthfulness of character!\n\n'Well, one doesn't often say these things to another person! But it is\na relief to say them. I know the remedy quite well. It is a very\nsimple case for the doctor to deal with; but it costs the patient just\neverything short of life, when you have to dig right down and cut out by\nthe roots an evil of a whole life standing. I assure you that it is hard\nwork, because these feelings of ours are such intangible, untractable\nthings! It is hard to lay hold of, and mould and direct them.\n\n'But I pray God that I may not willingly yield to these gloomy unloving\nfeelings. As often as I look out of myself upon Him, His love and\ngoodness, then I catch a bright gleam. I think that you will not suspect\nme of being in a morbid state of mind. You will say, \"Poor old fellow!\nhe was seedy and depressed when he wrote all that.\" And that's true, but\nnot the whole truth. I have much need of your prayers, indeed, for grace\nand strength to correct faults of which I am conscious, to say nothing\nof unknown sin.\n\n'The Ordination is over, a quiet solemn service. The new Church, which I\nhad not seen, is very creditable to the people, who built it themselves.\nIt is wooden, about thirty-six or thirty-eight feet high, will hold 500\npeople well.\n\n'Mr. Nobbs preached a very good sermon. I got on very well. Singing very\ngood. Five Priests assisting in this little place!\n\n'Christmas Eve.--What a meaning one of my favourite hymns (xxxviii. in\n\"Book of Praise\") has, when one thinks of this awful war, how hard to\nrealize the suffering and misery; the rage and exasperation; the pride\nand exaltation! How hard to be thankful enough for the blessings of\npeace in this little spot!\n\n'Our Chapel is beautifully decorated. A star at the east end over\nthe word Emmanuel, all in golden everlasting flame, with lilies and\noleanders in front of young Norfolk Island pines and evergreens.\n\n'Seven new Communicants to-morrow morning. And all things, God be\npraised, happy and peaceful about us. All Christmas blessings and joys\nto you, dear ones!\n\n'Christmas Day, 3 P.M.--Such a happy day! Such a solemn, quiet service\nat 7 A.M., followed by a short joyous 11 A.M. service. Christmas Hymn,\none with words set to the tune for \"Hark! the herald Angels sing.\"\n\n'You know we never have the Litany on Sundays, because everybody is in\nChapel twice a day, and we of course have it on Wednesday and Friday,\nand every native Communion Sunday, i.e., every alternate Sunday; we have\nno Communion Service at 11 A.M. as our Communicants have been in Chapel\nat the 7 o'clock service; so to-day, the Lessons being short, the\nservice, including my short service, was over by 11.20.\n\n'Now we have a week's holiday, that is, no school; though I think it\nis hard work, inasmuch as the preparing plans for school lessons,\nrearranging classes, sketching out the work, is tiring to me.\n\n'Then I have such heaps of letters, which do worry me. But, on the other\nhand, I get much quiet time for some reading, and I enjoy that more than\nanything. Ten of our party were in Chapel at 11 A.M. with us for the\nfirst time. You know that we don't allow everyone to come, but only\nthose that we believe to be aware of the meaning of Prayer, and who can\nread, and are in a fair way to be Catechumens. All these ten will, I\nhope, be baptized this summer.\n\n'We are obliged, seriously, to think of a proper Chapel. The present one\nis 45 ft. by 19 ft. and too small. It is only a temporary oblong room;\nvery nice, because we have the crimson hangings, handsome sandal-wood\nlectern, and some good carving. But we have to cram about eighty\npersons into it, and on occasions (Baptisms and Confirmations, or at\nan Ordination) when others come, we have no room. Mr. Codrington\nunderstands these things well, and not only as an amateur archaeologist;\nhe knows the principle of building well in stone and wood. Especially\nuseful in this knowledge here, where we work up our own material to\na great extent. Our notion--his notion rather--is to have stone\nfoundations and solid stone buttresses to carry a light roof. Then the\nrest will be wood. It ought to be about sixty feet by thirty, exclusive\nof chancel and apse. When we get all the measurements carefully made,\nwe shall send exact accounts of the shape and size of the windows, and\nsuggest subjects for stained glass by Hardman, or whoever might now be\nthe best man. I hope that it won't cost very much, \u00a3perhaps 500.\n\nDecember 21st.--We have not had a fine Christmas week, heavy rain and\nhot winds. But the rain has done much good. The Norfolk Islanders have\nmuch influenza, but we are at present quite free from it.\n\n'Yesterday I spent two hours in training and putting to rights my\nstephanotis, which now climbs over half my verandah. I have such\nJapanese lilies making ready to put forth their splendours. Two or three\nazaleas grow well. Rhododendrons won't grow well. My little pines grow\nwell, and are about seven feet high. It is very pleasant to see the\ngrowth of these things when I return from the voyage. The \"pottering\nabout\" the little gardens, the park-like paddocks, with our sheep and\ncattle and horses, gives me some exercise every day. I go about quietly,\nand very often by myself, with a book. After thinking of all kinds\nof things and persons, I think that my increased and increasing\nunwillingness to write is one proof of my not being so strong or\nvigorous. I can't tell you what an effort it is to me to write a\nbusiness letter; and I almost dread a long effusion from anyone,\nbecause, though I like reading it, I have the thought of the labour of\nanswering it in my mind.\n\n'Then again, I who used to be so very talkative, am taciturn now.\nOccasionally, I victimize some unfortunate with a flow of language about\nsome point of divinity, or if I get a hearer on South Sea languages, I\ncan bore him with much satisfaction to myself. But I am so stupid about\nsmall talk. I cannot make it. When I have to try with some Norfolk\nIslander, e.g. it does weary me so! Mind, I don't despise it. But\ninstead of being a relaxation, it is of all things the hardest work to\nme. I am very dull in that way, you know. And sometimes I think people\nmust take me to be sullen, for I never know how to keep the talk going.\nThen if I do talk, I get upon some point that no one cares for, and bore\neverybody. So here, too, I fall back on my own set of friends, who are\nmost tolerant of my idiosyncrasies, and on my Melanesians who don't\nnotice them.\n\n'Your loving Brother,\n\n'J. C. P.'\n\nIn spite of this distaste for writing, a good many letters were sent\nforth during the early months of 1871, most of them the final ones to\neach correspondent. The next, to Miss Mackenzie, is a reply to one\nin which, by Bishop Wilkinson's desire, she had sought for counsel\nregarding the Zulu Mission, especially on questions that she knew by\nexperience to be most difficult, i.e., of inculcating Christian modesty,\nand likewise on the qualifications of a native ministry:--\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: Jan. 26, 1871.\n\n'My dear Miss Mackenzie,--In addition to a very long and interesting\nletter of yours, I have a letter from my sister, who has just seen you\nat Havant, so I must lose no more time in writing.\n\n'First, let me say that I am as sure as I can be of anything that I\nhave not registered, that I wrote to thank you for the prints long ago.\nIndeed, all these many gifts of yours are specially valuable as having\nbeen once the property of your brother, of whom it seems presumptuous\nfor me to speak, and as having actually been used in Mission work in so\ndistant a part of the world.\n\n'I need not say that \"Thomas a Kempis,\" his sextant, and his pedometer,\nare among my few real valuables. For the use of the prints, I can't say\nmuch on my own knowledge. My classes are for the most part made up of\nlads and young men, teachers, or preparing for Confirmation or Holy\nCommunion; one class, always of younger ones, being prepared for\nBaptism; and sometimes youths, newcomers, when we have to take in hand a\nnew language. Those prints are not of much use, therefore, to my special\nclasses. Most of them have passed beyond the stage of being taught by\npictures, though they like to look at them. But Mrs. Palmer has been\nusing them constantly with the girls' classes, and so with the less\nadvanced classes throughout the school.\n\n'One difficulty will to the end be, that by the time we can talk freely\nto our scholars, and they can understand their own language employed\nas a vehicle for religious teaching, they are not sufficiently supplied\nwith books. True, we have translations of such parts of the Bible as\nquite enable us to teach all that a Christian need know and do; but I\noften wish for plenty of good useful little books on other subjects,\nand I don't see my way to this. Our own press is always at work printing\ntranslations, &c. It is not easy to write the proper kind of book in\nthese languages, and how are they to be printed? We haven't time to\nprint them here, and who is to correct the press elsewhere? The great\nfact in your letter is the account of Bishop Wilkinson's Consecration. I\nam heartily glad to hear of it, and I will send, if I can, now, if not,\nsoon, an enclosure to him for you to forward. I doubt if I can help him\nby any means as to qualifications of candidates for Holy Orders, &c. Our\nwork is quite in a tentative state, and I am sometimes troubled to see\nthat this Mission is supposed to be in a more advanced state than is\nreally the case.\n\n'For example, the report of a man going ashore dressed as a Bishop with\na Bible in his hand to entice the natives away, assumes islands to be\nin a state where the conventional man in white tie and black-tail coat\npreaches to the natives. My costume, when I go ashore, is an old Crimean\nshirt, a very ancient wide-awake. Not a syllable has in all probability\never been written, except in our small note-books, of the language of\nthe island. My attention is turned to keeping the crowd in good-humour\nby a few simple presents of fish-hooks, beads, &c. Only at Mota is there\na resident Christian; and even there, people who don't know what Mota\nwas, and what a Melanesian island, for the most part, alas! still is,\nwould see nothing to indicate a change for the better, except that the\npeople are unarmed, and would be friendly and confiding in their manner\nto a stranger.\n\n'I hardly know how to bring my Melanesian experience to bear upon\nZululand. The immorality, infanticide, superstition, &c., seem to be as\ngreat in a Melanesian island as in any part of the heathen world. And\nwith our many languages, it is not possible for us to-know the \"slang\"\nof the various islands.\n\n'We must be cheery about it all. Just see what the old writers, e.g.\nChrysostom, say about Christian (nominally) morals and manners at\nwedding feasts, and generally. Impurity is the sin, par excellence, of\nall unchristian people. Look at St. Paul's words to the Corinthians and\nothers. And we must not expect, though we must aim at, and hope, and\npray for much that we don't see yet.\n\n'What opportunity will Bishop Wilkinson have for testing the practical\nteaching power and steady conduct of his converts?\n\n'Many of our Melanesians have their classes here, and we can form an\nopinion of their available knowledge, how far they can reproduce what\nthey know, &c. We can see, too, whether they exercise any influence over\nthe younger ones.\n\n'Twelve (this season) are counted as sixth form, or monitors, or\nwhatever you please to call them. [Then ensues an account of the\nrotation of industrial work, &c.]\n\n'The other day I was examining an Ysabel lad, not formally in school,\nbut he happened to be in my room, as they are always hanging about (as\nyou know). He knew much more than I expected: \"Who taught you all this?\nI am very well pleased.\"\n\n'\"Wogale,\" was the answer.\n\n'Edward Wogale is George Sarawai's own brother, volunteering now to go\nto Anudha (Florida), near Ysabel Island. If I see that a young man\n(by his written notes, little essays so to say, analysis of lessons)\nunderstands what he has been taught; and if I see (by the proficiency\nof his pupils) that he can reproduce and communicate this teaching to\nothers, then one part of the question of his fitness is answered. If\nhe has been here for years, always well conducted, and if when at home\noccasionally he has always behaved well and resisted temptation; and\nperhaps I should add, if he is respectably married, or about to be\nmarried, to a decent Christian girl, then we may hope that the matter of\nmoral fitness may be hopefully settled. Assuming this, and thank God, I\nbelieve I may assume that it is the case with several here now, as soon\nas a Deacon is required in any place that he is willing to work in, I\nshould not hesitate to ordain him; but I can't specify exactly what\nhis qualifications ought to be, because I can't undertake to settle the\ndifficult question of what constitutes absolutely essential teaching\nfor a Christian, i.e., the doctrine of fundamentals. Practically one\ncan settle it; and that quite as well as in England, where there is, and\nmust be any amount of inequality in the attainments and earnestness of\nthe candidates, and where no examination can secure the fitness or even\nthe mental capacity of the minister.\n\n'I say to myself, \"Here is an island or a part of an island from which\nwe have had a good many scholars. Some married ones are going back to\nlive permanently. They are Christians, and some are Communicants. They\nwish to do what they can to get the young ones about them for regular\nschool and to talk to the older people. They all have and can use their\nPrayer-books. The people are friendly. Is there one among them of whom I\ncan (humanly speaking) feel sure that, by God's blessing, he will lead a\ngood life among them, and that he can and will teach them faithfully the\nelements of Christian truth and practice? If we all agree that there is\nsuch a one, why not ordain him?\"\n\n'But I want to see people recognising the office of Deacon as something\nvery distinct indeed from that of the Priest. It is a very different\nmatter indeed, when we come to talk about candidates for Priest's\norders.\n\n'Again, look at the missionary clergy of old times. No doubt in\nmediaeval times so much stress was laid upon the mere perfunctory\nperformance of the ministerial act, as apart from careful teaching of\nthe meaning and purport of the act, that the mediaeval missionary is so\nfar not a very safe model for us to imitate.\n\n'But I suppose that multitudes of men did good work who could no more\ncomprehend nor write out the result of lessons that Edward, Henry,\nEdmund, Robert and twenty others here are writing out, than our English\npeasant can comprehend a learned theological treatise.\n\n'And we must consider the qualifications of one's native clergy in\nrelation to the work that they have to do. They have not to teach\ntheology to educated Christians, but to make known the elements of\nGospel truth to ignorant heathen people. If they can state clearly and\nforcibly the very primary leading fundamental truths of the Gospel, and\nlive as simple-minded humble Christians, that is enough indeed.\n\n'Perhaps this is as likely to make the Bishop understand my notions on\nthe subject as any more detailed account of the course of instruction. I\nreally have not time to copy out some ten or twelve pages of some older\nlad's note-book. I think you would be satisfied with their work. I don't\nmean, of course, the mere writing, which is almost always excellent, but\nthere is a ready apprehension of the meaning of any point clearly put\nbefore them, which is very satisfactory. I am now thinking of the\ntwenty or thirty best among our 145 scholars. This is a confused, almost\nunintelligible scrawl; but I am busy, and not very fresh for work.\n\n'Yours very truly,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nA letter to Bishop Abraham was in hand at the same time, full of replies\nto the information in one newly received from this much valued friend.\nAfter deploring an attack of illness from which Mrs. Abraham had been\nsuffering, comes the remark--\n\n'You know what one always feels, that one can't be unhappy about good\npeople, whatever happens to them. I do so enjoy your talk about Church\nworks in England. It makes the modern phraseology intelligible. I know\nnow what is meant by \"missions\" and \"missioners\" and \"retreats.\"\n\n'I was thinking lately of George Herbert at Hereford, as I read the four\nsermons which Vaughan lately preached there, one on the Atonement, which\nI liked very much indeed. The Cathedral has been beautifully restored,\nhas it not? Then, I think of you in York Minster on November 20, with\nthat good text from Psalm xcvi. I read your letter on Tuesday; on which\nday our morning Psalms in Chapel are always chanted, xcv., xcvi., xcvii.\nThe application seems very natural, but to work out those applications\nis difficult. The more I read sermons, and I read a good many, the more\nI wonder how men can write them!\n\n'Mind, I will gladly pay Charley ten shillings a sermon, if he will copy\nit out for me. It will do the boy good. Dear old Tutor used to fag me\nto write copies of the Bishop's long New Zealand letters, as I wrote a\ndecent hand then. Don't I remember a long one from Anaiteum, and how I\nwondered where on earth or sea Anaiteum could be!\n\n'I want to hear men talk on these matters (the Eucharistic question) who\nrepresent the view that is least familiar to me. And then I feel, when\nit comes to a point of Greek criticism, sad regret and almost remorse at\nmy old idleness and foolish waste of time when I might have made myself\na decent scholar. I cram up passages, instead of applying a scholarly\nhabit of mind to the examination of them. And now too, it is harder than\never to correct bad habits of inattention, inaccuracy, &c. I am almost\ntoo weary oftentimes to do my work anyhow, much less can I make an\neffort to improve my way of doing it. But I must be content, thankful to\nget on somehow or other, and to be able to teach the fellows something.\n\n'It is quite curious to see how often one is baffled in one's attempts\nto put oneself en rapport with the Melanesian mind. If one can manage\nit, they really show one that they know a good deal, not merely by\nheart, or as matter of memory, that is worth little; but they show that\nthey can think. But often they seem utterly stupid and lost, and one is\nperplexed to know what their difficulty can possibly be. One thing is\nclear, that they have little faculty of generalization. As you know,\nthey seldom have a name for their island, but only names for each tiny\nheadland, and bay, and village. The name for the island you must learn\nfrom the inhabitants of another island who view the one whose name you\nare seeking as one because, being distant, it must appear to them in\nits oneness, not in its many various parts. Just so, they find it very\ndifficult to classify any ideas under general heads. Ask for details,\nand you get a whole list of them. Ask for general principles, and only a\nfew can answer.\n\n'For example, it is not easy to make them see how all temptations to sin\nwere overcome in the three representative assaults made upon Him in the\nwilderness; how love is the fulfilling of the Law; or how the violation\nof one Commandment is the violation (of the principle) of all.\n\n'Then they have much difficulty (from shyness partly, and a want of\nteaching when young) in expressing themselves. They really know much\nthat only skilful questioning, much more skilful than mine, can get out\nof them. It wants--all teaching does--a man with lots of animal spirits,\nhealth, pluck, vigour, &c. Every year I find it more difficult.'\n\n\nTo another of the New Zealand friends who had returned to England there\nwas a letter on Jan. 31:--\n\n\n'My dear Mr. Lloyd,--I must send you a line, though I have little to\nsay. And I should be very sorry if we did not correspond with some\nattempt at regularity.\n\n'What can one think of long without the mind running off to France? What\na wonderful story it is! Only Old Testament language can describe\nit, only a Prophet can moralise upon it. It is too dreadful in its\nsuddenness and extent. One fears that vice and luxury and ungodliness\nhave destroyed whatever of chivalry and patriotism there once was in\nthe French character. To think that this is the country of St. Louis\nand Bayard! The Empire seems almost systematically to have completed\nthe demoralisation of the people. There is nothing left to appeal to,\nnothing on which to rally. It is an awful thing to see such judgments\npassing before our very eyes. So fearful a humiliation may do something\nyet for the French people, but I dread even worse news. It nearly came\nthe other day to a repetition of the old Danton and Robespierre days.\n\n'Here we are going on happily.... I would give something to spend a\nquiet Sunday with you in your old Church. How pleasant to have an old\nChurch.\n\n'Always yours affectionately,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nMy own last letter came at the same time:--\n\n\n'Norfolk Island: February 16th, 1871.\n\n'My dear Cousin,--I must not leave your letter of last October without\nan instalment of an answer, though this is only a chance opportunity of\nsending letters by a whaler, and I have only ten minutes.\n\n'Your account of the Southampton Congress is a regular picture. I thinly\nI can see the Bishops of Winton, Sarum, and Oxon; and all that you say\nby way of comment on what is going off in the Church at home interests\nme exceedingly. You can't think what a treat your letters are.\n\n'You see Mr. Codrington is the only one of my age, and (so to say)\neducation here, and so to commune with one who thinks much on these\nmatters, which of course have the deepest interest for me, is very\npleasant and useful. On this account I do so value the Bishop of\nSalisbury's letters, and it is so very kind of him to write to me in the\nmidst of the overwhelming occupations of an English diocese.\n\n'I don't think you have mentioned Dr. Vaughan. I read his books with\nmuch interest. He doesn't belong to the Keble theology; but he seems to\nme to be a thoughtful, useful, and eminently practical writer. He\nseems to know what men are thinking of, and to grapple with their\ndifficulties. I am pleased with a little book, by Canon Norris, \"Key\nto the New Testament\": the work of a man who has read a good deal, and\nthought much.\n\n'He condenses into a 2s. 6d. book the work of years.\n\n'You are all alive now, trying to work up your parochial schools to\n\"efficiency\" mark--rather you were doing so, for I think there was\nonly time allowed up to December 31, 1870. I hope that the efforts were\nsuccessful. At such times one wishes to see great noble gifts, men of\ngreat riches giving their \u00a310,000 to a common fund. Then I remember that\nthe claims and calls are so numerous in England, that very wealthy men\ncan hardly give in that way.\n\n'Certainly I am spared the temptation myself of seeing the luxury and\nextravagance which must tempt one to feel hard and bitter, I should\nfear. We go on quietly and happily. You know our school is large. Thank\nGod, we are all well, save dear old Fisher, who met with a sad boating\naccident last week. A coil of the boat raft caught his ankle as the\nstrain was suddenly tightened by a rather heavy sea, and literally\ntore the front part of his foot completely off, besides dislocating and\nfracturing the ankle-bone. He bears the pain well, and he is doing very\nwell; but there may be latent tetanus, and I shall not feel easy for ten\ndays more yet.\n\n'His smile was pleasant, and his grasp of the hand was an indication of\nhis faith and trust, as he answered my remark, \"You know Fisher, He does\nnothing without a reason: you remember our talk about the sparrows and\nthe hairs of our heads.\"\n\n'\"I know,\" was all he said; but the look was a whole volume....\n\n'Your Charlotte is Fisher's wife, you know, and a worthy good creature\nshe is. Poor old Fisher, the first time I saw tears on his cheeks was\nwhen his wife met him being carried up, and I took her to him.\n\n'The mail goes. Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nIt may as well be here mentioned that Fisher Pantatun escaped tetanus,\nlived to have his limb amputated by a medical man, who has since come to\nreside at Norfolk Island, and that he has been further provided with a\nwooden leg, to the extreme wonder and admiration of his countrymen at\nMota, where he has since joined the Christian community.\n\nThe home letter, finished the last, had been begun before the first, on\nFeb. 11, 'My birthday,' as the Bishop writes, adding:--'How as time goes\non we think more and more of him and miss him. Especially now in these\ntimes, with so many difficult questions distressing and perplexing men,\nhis wise calm judgment would have been such a strength and support. You\nknow I have all his letters since I left England, and he never missed\na mail. And now it is nearly ten years since he passed away from this\nworld. What would he say to us all? What would he think of all that has\ntaken place in the interval? Thank God, he would certainly rejoice in\nseeing all his children loving each other more and more as they grow\nolder and learn from experience the blessedness and infrequency of such\na thoroughly united, happy set of brothers and sisters. Why, you have\nnever missed a single mail in all these sixteen years; and I know, in\nspite of occasional differences of opinion, that there is really more\nthan ever of mutual love, and much more of mutual esteem than ever.\nThere is no blessing like this. And it is a special and unusual\nblessing. And surely, next to God, we owe it to our dear parents, and\nperhaps especially to him who was the one to live on as we grew up into\nmen and women. What should I have done out here without a perfect trust\nin you three, and without your letters and loving remembrances in boxes,\n&c.? I fancy that I should have broken down altogether, or else have\nhardened (more than I have become) to the soft and restful influences of\nthe home life. I see some people really alone in these countries, really\nexpatriated. Now I never feel that; partly because I have your letters,\npartly because I have the knowledge that, if ever I did have to go to\nEngland, I should find all the old family love, only intensified and\ndeepened. I can tell you that the consciousness of all this is a great\nhelp, and carries one along famously. And then the hope of meeting\nby-and-by and for ever!'\n\n\n'True to the kindred points of heaven and home.' Surely such loyalty of\nheart, making a living influence of parents so long in their graves, has\nbeen seldom, at least, put on record, though maybe it often and often\nhas existed.\n\n\nAgain, on March 8:--'Such a fit came over me yesterday of old memories.\nI was reading a bit of Wordsworth (the poet).\n\nI remembered dear dear Uncle Frank telling me how Wordsworth came over\nto Ottery, and called on him, and how he felt so honoured; and so I felt\non thinking of him, and the old (pet) names, and most of all, of course,\nof Father and Mother, I seemed to see them all with unusual clearness.\nThen I read one of the two little notes I had from Mr. Keble, which live\nin my \"Christian Year,\" and so I went on dreaming and thinking.\n\n'Yes, if by His mercy I may indeed be brought to the home where they\ndwell! But as the power of keen enjoyment of this world was never mine,\nas it is given to bright healthy creatures with eyes and teeth and limbs\nsound and firm, so I try to remember dear Father's words, that \"he did\nnot mean that he was fit to go because there was little that he cared\nto stop here for.\" And I don't feel morbid like, only with a diminished\ncapacity for enjoying things here. Of the mere animal pleasures, eating\nand drinking are a serious trouble. My eyes don't allow me to look about\nmuch, and I walk with \"unshowing eye turned towards the earth.\" I don't\nconverse with ease; there is the feeling of difficulty in framing words.\nI prefer to be alone and silent. If I must talk, I like the English\ntongue least of all. Melanesia doesn't have such combinations of\nconsonants and harsh sounds as our vernacular rejoices in. If I speak\nloud, as in preaching, I am pretty clear still; but I can't read at all\nproperly now without real awkwardness.\n\n'I am delighted with Shairp's \"Essays\" that Pena sent me. He has the\nvery nature to make him capable of appreciating the best and most\nthoughtful writers, especially those who have a thoughtful spirit of\npiety in them. He gives me many a very happy quiet hour. I wish such a\nbook had come in my way while I was young. I more than ever regret that\nMr. Keble's \"Praelectiones\" was never translated into English. I am sure\nthat I have neglected poetry all my life for want of some guide to the\nappreciation and criticism of it, and that I am the worse for it. If you\ndon't use Uncle Sam's \"Biographia Literaria,\" and \"Literary Remains,\" I\nshould much like to have them.\n\n'Do you, Fan, care to have any of my German books? I have, indeed,\nscarce any but theological ones. But no one else reads German here, and\nI read none but the divinity; and, indeed, I almost wish I had them in\ntranslations, for the sake of the English type and paper. My eyes don't\nlike the German type at all.\n\n'Moreover, now (it was not so years ago), all that is worth reading\nin their language is in a good serviceable English dress, and passed,\nmoreover, through the minds of clear English thinkers--and the Germans\nare such wordy, clumsy, involved writers. A man need not be a German\nscholar to be well acquainted with all useful German theology. D\u00f6llinger\nis almost the only clear, plain writer I know among them. Dorner, the\ngreat Lutheran divine, gives you about two pages and a half of close\nprint for a single sentence--awful work, worse than my English!... But I\nknow that if I read less, and thought more, it would be better. Only it\nis such hard work thinking, and I am so lazy! I was amused at hearing,\nthrough another lad, of Edward Wogale's remark, \"This helping in\ntranslation\" (a revisal of the \"Acts\" in Mota) \"is such hard work!\"\n\"Yes, my boy, brain work takes it out of you.\" I wish I had Jem's power\nof writing reports, condensing evidence into clear reliable statements.\nLawyers get that power; while we Clergymen are careless and inaccurate,\nbecause, as old Lord Campbell said, \"there is no reply to our sermons.\"\n\n'What would I give to have been well drilled in grammar, and made an\naccurate scholar in old days! Ottery School and Eton didn't do much for\nme in that way, though of course the fault was chiefly in myself.\n\n'But most of all, I think that I regret the real loss to us Eton boys\nof the weekly help that Winchester, Rugby, and Harrow boys had from\nMoberly, Arnold, and Vaughan in their sermons! I really think that might\nhave helped to keep us out of harm!\n\n'It is now 4.30 P.M., calm and hot. Such a tiger-lily on my table,\nand the pretty delicate achimenes, and the stephanotis climbing up the\nverandah, and a bignonia by its side, with honeysuckle all over the\nsteps, and jessamine all over the two water-tanks at the angle of the\nverandah. The Melanesians have, I think, twenty-nine flower gardens, and\nthey bring the flowers, &c.--lots of flowers, and the oleanders are a\nsight! Some azaleas are doing well, verbenas, hibiscus of all kinds.\nRoses and, alas! clove carnations, and stocks, and many of the dear old\ncottage things won't grow well. Scarlet passion flowers and splendid\nJapanese lilies of perfect white or pink or spotted. The golden one I\nhave not yet dared to buy. They are most beautiful. I like both the\nred and the yellow tritoma; we have both. But I don't think we have the\nperfume of the English flowers, and I miss the clover and buttercup. And\nwhat would I give for an old-fashioned cabbage rose, as big as a saucer,\nand for fresh violets, which grow here but have little scent, and lilies\nof the valley! Still more, fancy seeing a Devonshire bank in spring,\nwith primroses and daisies, or meadows with cowslip and clover and\nbuttercups, and hearing thrushes and blackbirds and larks and cuckoos,\nand seeing trout rise to the flies on the water! There is much\nexaggeration in second-rate books about tropical vegetation. You\nare really much better off than we are. No trees equal English oaks,\nbeeches, and elms, and chestnuts; and with very little expense and\nsome care, you have any flowers you like, growing out of doors or in a\ngreenhouse. You can make a warmer climate, and we can't a colder one.\nBut we have plenty to look at for all that. There, what a nice hour I\nhave spent in chatting with you!'\n\nThis same dreamy kind of 'chat,' full of the past, and of quiet\nmeditation over the present, reminding one of Bunyan's Pilgrims in the\nLand of Beulah, continues at intervals through the sheets written while\nwaiting for the 'Southern Cross.' Here is a note (March 14) of the\nteaching:--\n\n'I am working at the Miracles with the second set, and I am able to\nventure upon serious questions, viz. the connection between sin and\nphysical infirmity or sickness, the Demoniacs, the power of working\nmiracles as essential to the Second Adam, in whom the prerogative of the\nMan (the ideal man according to the idea of his original condition) was\nrestored. Then we go pretty closely into detail on each miracle, and try\nto work away till we reach a general principle or law.\n\n'With another class I am making a kind of Commentary on St. Luke. With a\nthird, trying to draw out in full the meaning of the Lord's Prayer.\nWith a fourth, Old Testament history. It is often very interesting; but,\napart from all sham, I am a very poor teacher. I can discourse, or talk\nwith equals, but I can't teach. So I don't do justice to these or any\nother pupils I may chance to have. But they learn something among us\nall.'\n\nHe speaks of himself as being remarkably well and free from the\ndiscomforts of illness during the months of March and April: and these\nletters show perfect peace and serenity of spirit; but his silence and\ninadequacy for 'small talk' were felt like depression or melancholy by\nsome of his white companions, and he always seemed to feel it difficult\nto rouse himself. To sit and study his Hebrew Isaiah with Delitzsch's\ncomment was his chief pleasure; and on his birthday, April 1, Easter\nEve, and the ensuing holy days, he read over all his Father's letters\nto him, and dwelt, in the remarks to his sisters, upon their wisdom and\ntenderness.\n\nMr. Codrington says: 'Before starting on the voyage he had confirmed\nsome candidates in the Church in town: on which occasion he seemed to\nrouse himself with difficulty for the walk, and would go by himself;\nbut he was roused again by the service, and gave a spirited and eloquent\naddress, and came back, after a hearty meal and lively conversation,\nmuch refreshed in mind and body. This was on Palm Sunday. On Easter\nDay he held his last confirmation of three girls and two Solomon Island\nboys.\n\nThen came the 'Southern Cross,' bringing with her from New Zealand a box\nwith numerous books and other treasures, the pillow that the old Bishop\nof Exeter was leaning on when he died; a photograph, from the Bishop\nof Salisbury, of his Cathedral, and among the gifts for the younger\nMelanesians, a large Noah's ark, which elicited great shouts of delight.\n\n'Well! [after mentioning the articles in order] all these things, and\nstill more the thought of the pains taken and the many loving feelings\nengaged in getting them together, will help me much during the coming\nmonths. All the little unexpected things are so many little signs of the\ncare and love you always have for me, and that is more than their own\nvalue, after all. I always feel it solemn to go off on these voyages.\nWe have had such mercies. Fisher is doing quite well, getting about\non crutches; and that is the only hospital case we have had during the\nwhole summer.'\n\nThen follows:--\n\n'April 27th.--We start in a few hours (D.V.). The weather is better.\nYou have my thoughts and hopes and prayers. I am really pretty well: and\nthough often distressed by the thought of past sins and present ones,\nyet I have a firm trust in God's mercy through Christ, and a reasonable\nhope that the Holy Spirit is guiding and influencing me. What more can I\nsay to make you think contentedly and cheerfully about me? God bless you\nall!'\n\nSo the last voyage was begun. The plan was much the same as usual. On\nthe way to Mota, the Bishop landed on Whitsuntide Island, and there was\ntold that what the people called a 'thief ship' had carried off some of\ntheir people. Star Island was found nearly depopulated. On May 16,\nthe Bishop, with Mr. Bice and their scholars, landed at Mota, and the\n'Southern Cross' went on with Mr. Brooke to Florida, where he found that\nthe 'Snatch-snatch' vessels, as they were there called, had carried off\nfifty men. They had gone on board to trade, but were instantly clapped\nunder hatches, while tobacco and a hatchet were thrown to their friends\nin the canoe. Some canoes had been upset by a noose from the vessel,\nthen a gun was fired, and while the natives tried to swim away, a boat\nwas lowered, which picked up the swimmers, and carried them off. One man\nnamed Lave, who jumped overboard and escaped, had had two fingers held\nup to him, which he supposed to mean two months, but which did mean two\nyears.\n\nIt was plain that enticing having failed, violence was being resorted\nto; and Mr. Brooke was left to an anxious sojourn, while Mr. Atkin\nreturned to Mota on his way to his own special charge at Bauro. He says,\non June 9:--\n\n'The Bishop had just come back from a week's journeying with William in\nhis boat. They had been to Santa Maria, Vanua Lava, and Saddle Island;\nthe weather was bad, but the Bishop, although he is tired, does not\nthink he is any the worse for his knocking about. He is not at all well;\nhe is in low spirits, and has lost almost all his energy. He said, while\ntalking about the deportation of islanders to Fiji, that he didn't know\nwhat was to be done; all this time had been spent in preparing teachers\nqualified to teach their own people, but now when the teachers were\nprovided, all the people were taken away. The extent to which the\ncarrying off of the natives has gone is startling. It certainly is time\nfor us to think what is to be done next. I do not think that it is an\nexaggerated estimate, others would say it is under the mark, that one\nhalf the population of the Banks Islands over ten years of age have been\ntaken away. I am trying not to expect anything about the Solomon Islands\nbefore we are there, but we have heard that several vessels have\ncargoes from there. If the people have escaped a little longer for their\nwildness, it will not be for long.\n\n'The Bishop still remained at Mota, while I went back to the Solomon\nIslanders. The cliffs of Mota, and perhaps the intelligence of the\npeople, had comparatively protected it, though Port Patteson had become\na station of the \"labour ships.\" The village of Kohimarama was not a\ndisappointment.'\n\nBishop Patteson proceeds:--\n\n'Things are very different. I think that we may, without danger, baptize\na great many infants and quite young children--so many parents are\nactually seeking Christian teaching themselves, or willing to give\ntheir children to be taught. I think that some adults, married men, may\npossibly be baptized. I should think that not less than forty or fifty\nare daily being taught twice a day, as a distinct set of Catechumens.\nBesides this, some of the women seem to be in earnest.\n\n'About two hours and a half are spent daily by me with about\ntwenty-three grown-up men. They come, too, at all hours, in small\nparties, two or three, to tell their thoughts and feelings, how they are\nbeginning to pray, what they say, what they wish and hope, &c.\n\n'There is more indication than I ever saw here before of a \"movement,\"\na distinct advance, towards Christianity. The distinction between\npassively listening to our teaching, and accepting it as God's Word\nand acting upon it, seems to be clearly felt. I speak strongly and\nhabitually about the necessity of baptism. \"He that believeth, and is\nbaptized\" &c. Independently of the doctrinal truth about baptism,\nthe call to the heathen man to take some step, to enter into some\nengagement, to ally himself with a body of Christian believers by some\ndistinct act of his own, needing careful preparation, &c., has a meaning\nand a value incalculably great.\n\n'\"Yes, JESUS is to us all a source of pardon, light, and life, all these\ntreasures are in Him. But he distributes these gifts by His Spirit in\nHis appointed ways. You can't understand or receive the Gospel with a\nheart clinging to your old ways. And you can't remake your hearts. He\nmust do it, and this is His way of doing it. You must be born again. You\nmust be made new men.\"\n\n'But why write all this, which is so commonplace?\n\n'I feel more than ever the need of very simple, very short services for\nignorant Catechumens.\n\n'They used to throng our morning and evening prayer, perhaps 130 being\npresent, for about that number attend our daily school; but they could\nnot understand one sentence in ten of the Common Prayer-book. And it is\nbad for people to accustom themselves to a \"formal\" service. So I have\nstopped that. We baptized people have our regular service and at the end\nof my school, held in the dark, 7-8.30 P.M., in the verandah, we kneel\ndown, and I pray extempore, touching the points which have formed the\nlesson.\n\n'I don't like teaching these adults who can't read a form of private\nprayer. I try to make them understand that to wish earnestly is to pray;\nthat they must put what they wish for clearly before their own minds,\nand then pray to God for it, through Christ. But I must try to supply\nprogressive lessons for the Catechumens and others, with short prayers\nto be read by the teacher at the end (and beginning, too, perhaps) of\nthe lesson. Much must depend on the individual teacher's unction and\nforce.\n\n'Well, I hope and trust to be able to tell you two months hence of some\nof these people being baptized. Only three adults have been baptized\nhere on the island, and all three were dying.\n\n'It is very comforting to think that all of us have been engaged in this\nMota work, Dudley, and Mr. Pritt, and Mr. Kerr, too, and all our present\nstaff have had much to do with it. Especially I think now of three young\nmen, all married, who came to me lately, saying, \"All these years (an\ninterval of six or seven years) we have been thinking now and then about\nwhat we heard years ago, when we were with you in New Zealand for a few\nmonths.\" They are now thoroughly in earnest, as far as I can judge, and\ntheir wives, as I hope, move along with them. How one old set must have\ninfluenced them a long time ago. Bice, who speaks Mota very well, was\nvery energetic during his fortnight here. He is now gone on with Mr.\nBrooke and Mr. Atkin that he may see the work in the Solomon Isles. I\nmeant to go; but there seemed to be a special reason why I should stay\nhere just now, vessels seeking labourers for Fiji and Queensland are\nvery frequently calling at these islands.\n\n'Mr. Thurston, late Acting Consul at Fiji, was with me the day before\nyesterday. He has taken a very proper view of this labour question;\nand he assures me that the great majority of the Fiji planters are very\nanxious that there should be no kidnapping, no unfair treatment of the\nislanders. I have engaged to go to Fiji (D.V.) at the end of my island\nwork, i.e., on my return to Norfolk Island, probably about the end of\nSeptember. I shall go there in the \"Southern Cross,\" send her on to her\nsummer quarters in New Zealand, and get from Fiji to New Zealand, after\nsix or eight weeks in Fiji, in some vessel or other. There are about\n4,000 or 5,000 white people in Fiji, mostly Church of England people,\nbut (as I suppose) not very clearly understanding what is really meant\nby that designation. It is assumed that I am to act as their Bishop; and\nI ought to have been there before. But really a competent man might work\nthese islands into a Bishopric before long.\n\n'We must try to follow these islanders into Fiji or Queensland. But how\nto do it? On a plantation of, say, one hundred labourers, you may find\nnatives of eight or ten islands. How can we supply teachers at the rate\nof one for every fifteen or twenty people? And there are some 6,000 or\n7,000 islanders already on the Fiji plantations, and I suppose as many\nin Queensland.\n\n'Some one knowing several languages, and continually itinerating from\none plantation to another, might do something; but I don't think a\nnative clergyman could do that. He must move about among white people\ncontinually in the boats, &c. I ought to do it; but I think my day has\ngone by for that kind of thing.\n\n'I hope to judge of all this by-and-by. It might end in my dividing\nmy year into Melanesian work as of old, and Melanesian work in Fiji,\ncombined with the attempt to organise the white Church of England\ncommunity, and only a month or two's work in Norfolk Island. To do this\nI must be in pretty good health. I may soon find out the limit of my\npowers of work, and then confine myself to whatever I find I can do with\nsome degree of usefulness. We ought to make no attempt to proselytise\namong the Fiji natives, who have been evangelised by the Wesleyans. But\nthere is work among our Western Pacific imported islanders and the white\npeople.\n\n'Norfolk Island could be quite well managed without me. Mr. Codrington\ncould take that entirely into his own hands. I might spend a month or\ntwo there, and confirm Melanesians and Norfolk Islanders, and quietly\nfall into a less responsible position and be a moveable clergyman in\nFiji or anywhere else, as long as my strength lasts.\n\n'Norfolk Island certainly was rather my resting-place. But I think I\nam becoming more and more indifferent to that kind of thing. A tropical\nclimate suits me, and Fiji is healthy--no ague. Dysentery is the chief\ntrouble there. These are notions, flying thoughts, most likely never to\nbe fully realised. Indeed, who can say what may befall me?'\n\nNever to be fully realised! No. He, who in broken health so freely and\nsimply sacrificed in will his cherished nook of rest on earth for a life\nso trying and distasteful, was very near the 'Rest that remaineth for\nthe people of God.'\n\nOn June 26, the first public baptism in Mota took place, of one man, the\nBishop and Sarawia in surplices in front of their verandah, the people\nstanding round; but unfortunately it was a very wet day, and the rush of\nrain drowned the voices, as the Bishop made his convert Wilgan renounce\nindividually and by name individual evil fashions of heathenism, just as\nSt. Boniface made the Germans forsake Thor and Odin by name. There were\ntwenty-five more nearly ready, and a coral-lime building was finished,\n'like a cob wall, only white plaster instead of red mud,' says the\nDevonshire man. It was the first Church of Mota, again reminding us of\nthe many 'white churches' of our ancestors; and on the 25th of June at\n7 A.M., the first Holy Eucharist was celebrated there. It is also\nthe place of private prayer for the Christians and Catechumens of\nKohimarama.\n\nThe weather was exceedingly bad, drenching rain continually, yet the\nBishop continued unusually well. His heart might well be cheered, when,\non that Sunday evening in the dark, he was thus accosted:--\n\n'I have for days been watching for a chance of speaking to you alone!\nAlways so many people about you. My heart is so full, so hot every word\ngoes into it, deep deep. The old life seems a dream. Everything seems to\nbe new. When a month ago I followed you out of the Said Goro, you said\nthat if I wanted to know the meaning and power of this teaching, I must\npray! And I tried to pray, and it becomes easier as every day I pray as\nI go about, and in the morning and evening; and I don't know how to pray\nas I ought, but my heart is light, and I know it's all true, and my mind\nis made up, and I have been wanting to tell you, and so is Sogoivnowut,\nand we four talk together, and all want to be baptized.'\n\nThis man had spent one season at St. John's, seven years before; but on\nhis return home had gone back to the ordinary island life, until at last\nthe good seed was beginning to take root.\n\nThe next Sunday, the 2nd of July, ninety-seven children were baptized,\nat four villages, chosen as centres to which the adjacent ones could\nbring their children. It was again a wet day, but the rain held up at\nthe first two places. The people stood or sat in a great half-circle,\nfrom which the eldest children, four or five years old, walked out in a\nmost orderly manner, the lesser ones were carried up by their parents,\nand out of the whole ninety-seven only four cried! The people all\nbehaved admirably, and made not a sound. At the last two places there\nwas a deluge of rain; but as sickness prevailed in them, it was not\nthought well to defer the Baptism.\n\n'It was a day full of thankful and anxious feelings. I was too tired,\nand too much concerned with details of arrangements, new names, &c., to\nfeel the more contemplative devotional part of the whole day's services\ntill the evening. Then, for I could not sleep for some hours, it came on\nme; and I thought of the old times too, the dear Bishop's early visits,\nmy own fourteen years' acquaintance with this place, the care taken\nby many friends, past and present members of the Mission. The Sunday\nCollects as we call them, St. Michael's, All Saints', Saint Simon and\nSt. Jude's calmed me, and my Sunday prayer, (that beautiful prayer in\nthe Ordination of Priests, 'Almighty God and Heavenly Father,' slightly\naltered) was very full of meaning. So, thank God, one great step has\nbeen taken, a great responsibility indeed, but I trust not rashly\nundertaken.'\n\nOn July 4 the 'Southern Cross' returned, and the cruise among the New\nHebrides was commenced. Mr. Bice was left to make a fortnight's visit at\nLeper's Island; and the Bishop, going on to Mai, found only three men on\nthe beach, where there used to be hundreds, and was advised not to go to\nTariko, as there had been fighting.\n\nAt Ambrym there was a schooner with Mr. Thurston on board, and\nfifty-five natives for Fiji. On the north coast was the 'Isabella,'\nwith twenty-five for Queensland. The master gave Captain Jacob his\ncredentials to show to the Bishop, and said the Bishop might come on\nboard and talk to the people, so as to be convinced they came willingly,\nbut weighed anchor immediately after, and gave no opportunity; and one\nman who stood on the rail calling out 'Pishopa, Pishopa,' was dragged\nback.\n\nMr. Bice was picked up again on the 17th, having been unmolested during\nhis visit; but two of the 'Lepers,' who had been at Espiritu Santo, had\nbrought back a fearful story that a small two-masted vessel had there\nbeen mastered by the natives, and the crew killed and eaten in revenge\nfor the slaughter of some men of their own by another ship's company\nsome time back.\n\nOn the voyage he wrote to the Bishop of Lichfield:--\n\n\n'Off Tariko. Sloop: July 8, 1871.\n\n'My dear Bishop,--Towards the end of April I left Norfolk Island, and\nafter a six days' passage reached Mota. I called at Ambrym (dropping\nthree boys) at three places; at Whitsuntide; at Leper's Island, dropping\nseven boys; Aurora, two places; Santa Maria, where I left B----, and\nso to Mota on the day before Ascension Day, and sent the vessel back at\nonce to Norfolk Island for the Solomon Island scholars. All our Aroa\nand Matlavo party wished to spend Ascension Day with us; and after Holy\nCommunion they went across with Commodore William Pasvorang in a good\nwhale boat, which I brought down on the deck of the schooner, and which\nWilly looks after at Aroa. We want it for keeping up a visitation of the\ngroup.\n\n'Bice, ordained Priest last Christmas, was with me. We found George and\nall well, George very steady and much respected. Charles Woleg, Benjamin\nVassil and James Neropa, all going on well. The wives have done less\nthan I hoped; true, they all had children to look after, yet they might\nhave done more with the women. [Then as before about the movement.]\n\n'After a week I went off in the boat, leaving Bice at Kohimarama,\nthe Mota station. I went to B---- first at the north-east part of the\nisland; back to Tarasagi (north-east point); sailed round to Lakona, our\nold Cock Sparrow Point, where B---- and I selected one or two boys to\nstay with him at Tarasagi. Thence we sailed to Avreas Bay, the great bay\nof Vanua Lava, B---- going back to Tarasagi by land. Heavy sea and rain;\nreached land in the dark 8 P.M., thankful to be safe on shore.\n\n'On to Aroa, where I spent two days; Willie and Edwin doing what they\ncan. Twenty children at school; but the island is almost depopulated,\nsome seven hundred gone to Brisbane and Fiji. I did not go to\nUvaparapara; the weather was bad, I was not well, and I expected the\n\"Southern Cross\" from Norfolk Island. Next day, after just a week's\ntrip in the boat, I got to Mota; and the next day the \"Southern\nCross\" arrived with Joe Atkin and Brooke and some twenty-four Solomon\nIslanders, many of them pressing to stay at Norfolk Island, where about\neighty scholars in all are under the charge of Codrington, Palmer, and\nJackson.\n\n'I sent Bice on in the \"Southern Cross,\" as he ought to see something of\nhis brethren's work in the north and west. I had just a month at Mota,\nvery interesting.\n\n'I hope to spend three weeks more at Mota, if this New Hebrides trip\nis safely accomplished, and to baptize the rest of the children, and\nprobably some ten or fifteen adults. All seem thoroughly in earnest.\nSome of the first scholars, who for years have seemed indifferent, are\nnow among my class of thirty-three adults. It would be too long a story\nto tell you of their frequent private conversations, their stories,\ntheir private prayers, their expressions of earnest thankfulness that\nthey are being led into the light.\n\n'Some of the women, wives of the men, are hopeful. George's old mother\nsaid to me, \"My boys are gone; George, Woleg, Wogale--Lehna died a\nChristian; Wowetaraka (the first-born) is going. I must follow. I listen\nto it all, and believe it all. When you think fit, I must join you,\"\ni.e. be baptized.\n\n'It is very comforting that all the old party from the beginning are\ndirectly (of course indirectly also) connected with this movement.\nSome of those most in earnest now came under the influence of the early\nworkers, Dudley, Mr. Pritt, &c.\n\n'We need this comfort.\n\n'From Mota some thirty or more have gone or been taken away, but the\nother islands are almost depopulated. Mr. Thurston, late Acting Consul\nin Fiji, was at Mota the other day seeking labourers. He says that about\n3,000 natives from Tanna and Uvaparapara are now in Fiji, and Queensland\nhas almost as many.\n\n'He admits that much kidnapping goes on. He, with all his advantages of\npersonal acquaintance with the people and with native interpreters\non board, could only get about thirty. Another, Captain Weston, a\nrespectable man who would not kidnap, cruised for some weeks, and left\nfor Fiji without a single native on board. How then do others obtain\nseventy or one hundred more?\n\n'But the majority of the Fiji settlers, I am assured, do not like these\nkidnapping practices, and would prefer some honest way of obtaining men.\nIndeed, many natives go voluntarily.\n\n'In the Solomon Isles a steamer has been at Savo and other places,\ntrying to get men.\n\n'Three or four of these vessels called at Mota while I was there. On one\nday three were in sight. They told me they were shot at at Whitsuntide,\nSta. Maria, Vanua Lava, &c. And, indeed, I am obliged to be very\ncareful, more so than at any time; and here, in the North Hebrides, I\nnever know what may happen, though of course in many places they know\nme.\n\n'We are now at our maximum point of dispersion: Brooke at Anudha, J.\nAtkin at or near San Cristoval, Gr. Sarawia at Mota, B---- at Santa\nMaria, Bice at Leper's Island, Codrington at Norfolk Island, I on board\n\"Southern Cross.\"\n\n'Leper's Island is very pleasant; I longed to stay there. All the people\nwanting to come with us, and already discriminating between us and the\nother white visitors, who seem to have had little or no success there.\n\n'July 21st.--At anchor, Lakona, west side of Santa Maria. Pleasant to\nbe quietly at anchor on our old \"shooting ground.\" We anchored for a day\nand a night at Ambrym, near the east point, very safe and comfortable\nplace. Nine lads from five villages are on board. I bought about three\nand a half tons of yams there. Anchored again at the end of Whitsuntide,\nwhere I am thankful to say we have at last received two lads, one a\nvery pleasant-looking fellow. That sad year of the dysentery, 1862, when\nTanau died and Tarivai was so ill, two out of only three scholars from\nthe island, made them always unwilling to give up lads.\n\n'Next day at Leper's Island. Anchored a night off Wehurigi, the east end\nof the high land, the centre part of the island.\n\n'Bice was quite feted by the people. We brought away three old and\ntwelve new scholars, refusing the unpromising old scholars. There is, I\nhope, a sufficient opening now at Ambrym and Leper's Island to justify\nmy assigning these islands to Jackson and Bice respectively.\n\n'Our plan now is to take very few people indeed from the Banks Islands\nto Norfolk Island, as they have a permanent school and resident\nclergyman at Mota. The lads who may turn out clever and competent\nteachers are taken to Norfolk Island, none others.\n\n'We must take our large parties from islands where there is as yet no\npermanent teacher: Ambrym, Leper's Island, the Solomon Islands.\n\n'Meanwhile the traders are infesting these islands, as Captain Jacobs\nsays, \"like mosquitoes.\" Three vessels anchored at Mai during the day\nI was there. Three different vessels were at Ambrym. To-day I saw four,\nthree anchored together near the north-east side of Santa Maria. B----\nsaw six yesterday.\n\n'The people now refuse to go in them, they are much exasperated at their\npeople being kept away so long. Sad scenes are occurring. Several white\nmen have been killed, boats' crews cut off, vessels wrecked.\n\n'We shall hear more of such doings; and really I can't blame the\nislanders. They are perfectly friendly to friends; though there is much\nsuspicion shown even towards us, where we are not well known.\n\n'As far as I can speak of my own plans, I hope to stay at Mota for a\ntime, till the \"Southern Cross\" returns from Norfolk Island; then go to\nthe Solomon Islands; return by way of Santa Cruz and probably Tikopia,\nto Mota; thence to Norfolk Island; thence probably to New Zealand, to\ntake the steamer for Fiji. We have no chart on board of Fiji; and I\ndon't think it right to run the risk of getting somehow to Levuka with\nonly the general chart of the South Pacific, so I must go, as I think,\nto New Zealand, and either take the steamer or procure charts, and\nperhaps take Mr. Tilly as pilot. I don't like it; it will be very cold;\nbut then I shall (D.V.) see our dear Taurarua friends, the good Bishop\nand others, and get advice about my Fiji movements. The Church of\nEngland folk there regard me as their Bishop, I understand; and the\nBishops of Sydney and Melbourne assume this to be the fitting course. A\nreally able energetic man might do much there, and, in five years, would\nbe Bishop of Levuka.\n\n'This is all of Melanesia and myself; but you will like to have this\nscrawl read to you.\n\n'How I think of you as I cruise about the old familiar places, and think\nthat you would like to have another trip, and see the old scenes with\nhere and there, thank God, some little changes for the better. Best\nlove, my dear dear Bishop, to Mrs. Selwyn, William and John.\n\n'Your very affectionate\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nAbout forty, old scholars and new, had been collected and brought back\nto Mota; where, after landing the Bishop, Captain Jacobs sailed back\nto Norfolk Island, carrying with him the last letters that were to be\nreceived and read as from a living man. All that follow only came in\nafter the telegram which announced that the hand that had written them\nwas resting beneath the Pacific waters. But this was not until it had\nbeen granted to him to gather in his harvest in Mota, as will be seen:--\n\n\n'Mota: July 31, 1871.\n\n'My dearest Sisters,--You will be glad to know that on my return hither\nafter three weeks' absence, I found no diminution of strong earnest\nfeeling among the people. George Sarawia had, indeed, been unable to do\nvery much in the way of teaching 60 or 90 men and women, but he had done\nhis best, and the 100 younger people were going on with their schooling\nregularly. I at once told the people that those who wished to be\nbaptized must let me know; and out of some 30 or 40 who are all, I\nthink, in earnest, 15, and some few women are to be baptized next\nSunday. These will be the first grown-up people, save John Wilgan,\nbaptized in Mota, except a few when in an almost dying state. They think\nand speak much of the fact that so many of their children have been\nbaptized, they wish to belong to the same set. But I believe them all\nto be fairly well instructed in the great elementary truths. They can't\nread; all the teaching is oral, no objection in my eyes. It may be\ndangerous to admit it, but I am convinced that all that we can do is to\nelevate some few of the most intelligent islanders well, so that they\ncan teach others, and be content with careful oral teaching for the\nrest. How few persons even among ourselves know how to use a book! And\nthese poor fellows, for I can only except a percentage of our scholars,\nhave not so completely mastered the mechanical difficulty of reading as\nto leave their minds free for examination of the meaning and sense of\nwhat they read. I don't undervalue a good education, as you know. But\nI feel that but few of these islanders can ever be book-learned; and\nI would sooner see them content to be taught plain truths by qualified\npersons than puzzling themselves to no purpose by the doubtful use of\ntheir little learning. You know that I don't want to act the Romish\nPriest amongst them. I don't want to domineer at all. And I do teach\nreading and writing to all who come into our regular school, and I make\nthem read passages to verify my teaching. At the same time, I feel that\nthe Protestant complaint of \"shutting up the Bible from the laity,\" is\nthe complaint of educated persons, able to read, think, and reflect.\n\n'The main difficulty is, of course, to secure a supply of really\ncompetent teachers. George, Edward, Henry, Robert, and some three or\nfour others are trustworthy. I comfort myself by thinking that a great\nmany of the mediaeval Clergy certainly did not know as much nor teach as\nwell.\n\n'Yesterday I baptized 41 more children and infants on again an\nunpropitious day. I was obliged to leave 42 to be baptized at some\nfuture time. The rain poured down. The people will bring them over\nto-morrow. The whole number of infants and children will amount to 230\nor more, of adults to perhaps 25 or 30. You will pray earnestly for\nthem that they may lead the rest of their lives \"according to this\nbeginning.\"\n\n'There is much talk, something more than talk, I think, about putting up\na large church-house here, on this side of the island (north-west side)\nand of a school-house, for church also, on the south-east side.\n\n'We have all heavy coughs and colds; and I have had two or three very\ndisturbed nights, owing to the illness of one of the many babies. The\nlittle thing howls all night.\n\n'All our means of housing people are exhausted. People flock here for\nthe sake of being taught. Four new houses have been built, three are\nbeing built. We shall have a large Christian village here soon, I hope\nand trust. At present every place is crammed, and 25 or 30 sleep on the\nverandah. The little cooking house holds somehow or other about 24 boys;\nthey pack close, not being burdened with clothes and four-posters. I\nsleep on a table, people under and around it. I am very well, barring\nthis heavy cold and almost total loss of voice for a few hours in the\nmorning and evening.\n\n'August 1st.--Very tired 7 A.M., Prayers 7.20-8.20, school 8.20-10;\nbaptized 55 infants and young children. Now it is past 1; a boisterous\nday, though as yet no rain. I had a cup of cocoa at 6.30, and at 10.30\na plate of rice and a couple of eggs, nice clean fare. The weather is\nagainst me, so cold, wet, and so boisterous. I got a good night though,\nfor I sent Mrs. Rhoda and her squalling baby to another house, and so\nslept quietly.\n\n'I am sorry that teaching is so irksome to me. I am, in a sense, at it\nall day. But there is so much to be done, and the people, worthy souls,\nhave no idea that one can ever be tired. After I was laid down on my\ntable, with my air-pillow under my head and my plaid over me, I woke up\nfrom a doze to find the worthy Tanoagnene sitting with his face towards\nme, waiting for a talk about the rather comprehensive subject of\nBaptism.\n\n'And at all odd times I ought to be teaching George and others how to\nteach, the hardest work of all. I think what a life a real pedagogue\nmust have of it. There is so much variety with me, so much change and\nholiday, and so much that has its special interest.\n\n'The \"Southern Cross\" has been gone a week. I hope they have not this\nkind of weather. If they have, they are getting a good knocking about,\nand they number about 55 on board.\n\n'August 6th.--To-day there is no rain, for the first time for weeks. It\nblew a heavy gale all night, and had done so with heavy rain for some\ndays before.\n\n'At 8 A.M. to-day I baptized 14 grown men, one an old bald man, and\nanother with a son of sixteen or so, five women and six lads, taught\nentirely in George's school. Afterwards, at a different service, 7\ninfants and little children were baptized. 238 + 5 who have died have\nnow been baptized since the beginning of July. To-day's service was very\ncomforting. I pray and trust that these grown-up men and women may be\nkept steadfast to their profession. It is a great blessing that I could\nthink it right to take this step. You will, I know, pray for them; their\nposition is necessarily a difficult one.\n\n'It is 2 P.M., and I feel tired: the crowds are gone, though little\nfellows are as usual sitting all round one. I tell them I can't talk;\nI must sit quietly, with Charlotte Yonge's \"Pupils of St. John the\nDivine.\" Dear me, what advantage young folks have nowadays, though\nindeed the dangers of these times far outweigh those of our young days.\n\n'I suppose Lightfoot's \"Commentaries\" hardly come in your way. They are\ncritical and learned on the Greek of St. Paul's Epistles. But there are\ndissertations which may be read by the English reader. He seems to me to\nbe a very valuable man, well fitted by his learning, and moderation, and\nimpartiality, and uncontroversial temper to do much good. His sympathies\nwith the modern school of thought are, I fancy, beyond me.\n\n'There is no doubt that Matthew Arnold says much that is true of the\nnarrowness, bigotry, and jealous un-Christian temper of Puritanism; and\nI suppose no one doubts that they do misrepresent the true doctrine of\nChristianity, both by their exclusive devotion to one side only of the\nteaching of the Bible, and by their misconception of their own favourite\nportions of Scripture. The doctrine of the Atonement was never in\nancient times, I believe, drawn out in the form in which Luther, Calvin,\nWesley, and others have lately stated it.\n\n'The fact of the Atonement through the Death of Christ was always\nclearly stated; the manner, the \"why,\" the \"how\" man's Redemption and\nReconciliation to God is thus brought about, was not taught, if at all,\nafter the Protestant fashion.\n\n'Oxenham's \"History of the Catholic Doctrine of the Atonement\" is a\nfairly-written statement of what was formerly held and taught. Such\nwords as \"substitution,\" \"satisfaction,\" with all the ideas introduced\ninto the subject from the use of illustrations, e.g. of criminals\nacquitted, debts discharged, have perplexed it perhaps, rather than\nexplained, what must be beyond explanation.\n\n'The ultra-Calvinistic view becomes in the mind and language of the\nhot-headed ignorant fanatic a denial of God's Unity. \"The merciful Son\nappeasing the wrath of the angry Father\" is language which implies two\nWills, two Counsels in the Divine Mind (compare with this John iii. 16).\n\nI suppose that an irreverent man, being partly disgusted with the\npopular theology, having no scruples about putting aside Inspiration,\n&c., and conceiving that he himself is an adequate representative of\nthe nineteenth century's intelligence, and that the nineteenth century's\nintelligence is most profound and infallible, sets to work to demolish\nwhat is distasteful to himself, and what the unerring criticism of the\nday rejects, correcting St. Paul's mistakes, patronising him whenever he\nis fortunate enough to receive the approbation of the great thinkers\nof our day, and so constructs a vague \"human\" religion out of the\nChristianity which he criticises, eliminating all that lies beyond\nthe speculative range of the mind, and that demands assent by its own\nauthority as God's Revelation. I don't know how to state briefly what I\nmean.\n\n'I think I can understand that this temper of mind is very prevalent in\nEngland now, and that I can partly trace the growth of it. Moreover, I\nfeel that to ignore, despise, or denounce it, will do no good.\n\n'As a matter of fact, thousands of educated men are thinking on these\ngreat matters as our fathers did not think of them. Simplicity of\nbelief is a great gift; but then the teaching submitted to such simple\nbelievers ought to be true, otherwise the simple belief leads them into\nerror. How much that common Protestant writers and preachers teach is\nnot true! Perhaps some of their teaching is untrue absolutely, but it is\ncertainly untrue relatively, because they do not hold the \"proportion\nof the faith,\" and by excluding some truths and presenting others in an\nextravagant form they distort the whole body of truth.\n\n'But when a man not only points out some of the popular errors,\nbut claims to correct St. Paul when he Judaizes, and to do a little\njudicious Hellenizing for an inspired Apostle, one may well distrust the\nnineteenth century tone and spirit.\n\n'I do really and seriously think that a great and reverently-minded man,\nconscious of the limits of human reason--a man like Butler--would find\nhis true and proper task now in presenting Christian teaching in an\nunconventional form, stripped of much error that the terms which we all\nemploy when speaking doctrine seem unavoidably to carry with them.\n\n'Such a man might ask, \"What do you mean by your theory of Substitution,\nSatisfaction, &c.?\" \"Where do you find it?\" \"Prove it logically from the\nBible.\" \"Show that the early Church held it.\"\n\n'Butler, as you know, reproved the curiosity of men who sought to find\nout the manner of the Atonement. \"I do not find,\" he says, \"that it is\ndeclared in the Scriptures.\" He believed the fact, of course, as his\nvery soul's treasure. \"Our ignorance,\" he says, \"is the proper answer to\nsuch enquiries.\"\n\n'At the same time, no one now can do, it seems, what another\nButler might do, viz., deal with the Bible as the best of the\nnineteenth-century men wish to hear a divine deal with it. He would\nnever make mere assertions. He would never state as a proved truth, to\nbe presented to a congregation's acceptance, a statement or a doctrine\nwhich really equalled only an opinion of Wesley or any other human\nteacher. He would never make arbitrary quotations from Scripture, and\ntry to prove points by illogical reasoning, and unduly pressing\ntexts which a more careful collation of MSS. has shown to be at least\ndoubtful. And by fairness and learning he would win or conciliate\nright-minded men of the critical school. What offends these men is the\ncool reckless way in which so many preachers make the most audacious\nstatements, wholly unsupported by any sound learning and logical\nreasoning. A man makes a statement, quotes a text or two, which he\ndoesn't even know to be capable of at least one interpretation different\nfrom that which he gives to it; and so the critical hearer is disgusted,\nand no wonder.\n\n'One gain of this critical spirit is, that it makes all of us Clergy\nmore circumspect in what we say, and many a man looks at his Greek\nTestament nowadays, and at a good Commentary too, before he ventures to\nquote a text which formerly would have done duty in its English dress\nand passed muster among an uncritical congregation. Nowadays every\nclergyman knows that there are probably men in his congregation who\nknow their Bible better than he does, and as practical lawyers, men of\nbusiness, &c., are more than his match at an argument. It offends such\nmen to have a shallow-minded preacher taking for granted the very points\nthat he ought to prove, giving a sentence from some divine of his school\nas if it settled the question without further reference even to the\nBible.\n\n'This critical spirit becomes very easily captious; and a man needn't be\nunbelieving because he doesn't like to be credulous. Campbell's book\non the Atonement is very hard, chiefly because the man writes such\nunintelligible English. I think Shairp in his \"Essays,\" gives a good\ncritique as far as it goes on the philosophical and religious manner of\nour day.\n\n'Alexander Knox says somewhere in his correspondence with Bishop Jebb\nthat he couldn't understand the Protestant theory of Justification. And\nit does seem to be often stated as if the terms employed in describing a\nmere transaction could adequately convey the true power and meaning of a\nDivine mystery.\n\n'But I only puzzle you, I dare say, and certainly I am liable to the\ncharge of not writing intelligible English. I can tell you I am glad\nenough that I am not called on to preach on these subjects after the\nfashion that a preacher in England must go to work.\n\n'It is a cool thing to say, but I do believe that what half our\nEnglish congregations want is just the plain simple teaching that our\nMelanesians get, only the English congregations wouldn't stand it.'\n\n\nA letter to Arthur Coleridge is of the same date:--\n\n\n'Mota Island: August 6, 1871--\n\n'My dear Arthur,--I have had a busy day, having baptized thirty-two\npersons, of whom twenty-five are adults; and then the crowd, the\nincessant talking, teaching, and the anxious feeling which attend any\nstep of so much importance as the Baptism from heathenism. Fourteen\nof the men are married, two are elderly, several are middle-aged,\nfive women are among the number. I believe that God's spirit is indeed\nworking in the hearts of these people. Some twelve or thirteen years\nhave passed, and only now have I felt that I could take the step of\nbaptizing the infants and young children here, the parents promising\nthat they shall be sent to school as they grow up. About 200 young\nchildren have during the past month been baptized: things seem hopeful.\nIt is very happy work; and I get on pretty well, often very tired, but\nthat doesn't matter.\n\n'I could wish all my good friends were here, that those who have been\nenabled to contribute to this end might see for themselves something\nof the long hoped for beginning of a new state of things in this little\nisland.\n\n'August 11.--In a little more than a month 248 persons have been\nbaptized here, twenty-five of them adults, the rest infants and young\nchildren. I am very sorry to think that I must leave them soon, for I\nexpect the \"Southern Cross\" in a few days; and I must go to the Solomon\nIslands, from them to Santa Cruz Island, and so to Norfolk Island,\ncalling here on the way. Then I am off to the Fiji Islands for, I\nsuppose, a month or six weeks. There are some 6,000 or 7,000 white\npeople there, and it is assumed by them and the Church people in this\npart of the world that I must be regarded as their Bishop. Very soon a\nseparate Bishop ought to be at work there, and I shall probably have to\nmake some arrangement with the settlers. Then, on the other hand, I want\nto look into the question of South Sea Islanders who are taken to the\nFiji plantations.\n\n'How far I can really examine into the matter, I hardly know. But many\nof the settlers invite me to consider the matter with them.\n\n'I believe that for the most part the islanders receive good treatment\nwhen on the plantations, but I know that many of them are taken away\nfrom their islands by unfair means.\n\n'The settlers are only indirectly responsible for this. The traders and\nsailing masters of the vessels who take away the islanders are the most\nculpable. But the demand creates the supply.\n\n'Among all my multifarious occupations here, I have not much time for\nreading; I am never alone night or day. I sleep on a table, with some\ntwelve or more fellows around me; and all day long people are about me,\nin and out of school hours. But I have read, for the third time I think,\nLightfoot's \"Galatians\"--and I am looking forward to receiving his book\non the Ephesians. He doesn't lay himself out to do exactly the work\nthat Bishop Ellicott has done so excellently, and his dissertations are\nperhaps the most valuable part of his work. He will gain the ear of the\nmen of this generation, rather than Ellicott; he sympathises more with\nmodern modes of thought, and is less rigid than Ellicott. But he seems\nvery firm on all the most essential and primary points, and I am indeed\nthankful for such a man. I don't find much time for difficult reading;\nI go on quietly, Hebrew, &c. I have many good books on both Old and New\nTestaments, English and German, and some French, e.g. Keuss and Guizot.\n\n'I like to hear something of what this restless speculative scientific\ngeneration is thinking and doing. But I can't read with much pleasure\nthe fragmentary review literature of the day. The \"Cornhill\" and that\nclass of books I can't stand, and sketchy writings. The best specimens\nof light reading I have seen of late are Charlotte Yonge's \"Pupils of\nSt. John the Divine,\" and Guizot's \"St. Louis,\" excellent.\n\n'I did read, for it was put on board, Disraeli's novel. I was on my back\nsea-sick for four days; what utter rubbish! clever nonsense! And I have\nread Mr. Arnold's \"St. Paul and Protestantism.\" He says some clever\nthings about the Puritan mind, no doubt. But what a painful book it is:\ncan't he see that he is reducing all that the spirit of a man must needs\nrest on to the level of human criticism? simply eliminating from the\nwritings of the Apostles, and I suppose from the words of the Saviour,\nall that is properly and strictly Divine.--[Then follows much that has\nbeen before given.]--How [winding up thus] thankful I am that I am far\naway from the noise and worry of this sceptical yet earnest age!\n\n'There is something hazy about your friend Davis's writings. I know some\nof his publications, and sympathise to a very considerable extent with\nhim. But I can't be sure that I always understand him: that school has a\nlanguage of its own, and I am not so far initiated as to follow.\n\n'I can't understand Maurice, much as I respect him. It is simply wasting\nmy time and my brains to attempt to read him; he has great thoughts,\nand he makes them intelligible to people less stupid than me, and many\nwriters whom I like and understand have taken their ideas from him; but\nI cannot understand him. And I think many of his men have his faults. At\nleast I am so conceited as to think it is not all my fault.\n\n'Do you know two little books by Norris, Canon of Bristol, \"Key to the\nGospel History,\" and a Manual on the Catechism?\n\n'They are well worth reading, indeed I should almost say studying, so as\nto mould the teaching of your young ones upon them.\n\n'How you would be amused could you see the figures and scenes which\nsurround me here! To-day about 140 men, women, lads and girls are\nworking voluntarily here, clearing and fencing the gardens, and digging\nthe holes for the yams, and they do this to help us in the school; we\nhave two pigs killed, and give them a bit of a feast. The feeling is\nvery friendly. A sculptor might study them to great advantage, though\nclothing is becoming common here now. Our thirty-four baptized adults\nand our sixteen or twenty old scholars wear decent clothing, of course.\n\n'Well, I must leave off.\n\n'I think very often of you, your wife and children, and, indeed, of you\nall. It would be very nice to spend a few weeks with you, but I should\nnot get on well in your climate.\n\n'The heat seems to suit me better, and I am pretty well here. Indeed I\nam better than I have been for more than a year, though I have a good\ndeal of discomfort.\n\n'Good-bye, dear Arthur. How often I think of your dear dear Father.\n\n'Your affectionate Cousin,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nTo the sisters, the journal continues--recording, on August 14, the\nBaptism of twelve men and women the day before, the Communion of\nsixteen at 7 A.M., the presence of fifty-six baptized persons at morning\nservice. More than 100 were working away the ensuing day in preparing\nyam gardens for Kohimarama, while two pigs were stewing in native ovens\nto feast them afterwards; and the Bishop was planting cocoa-nut trees\nand sowing flower seeds, or trying experiments with a machine for\ncondensing water, in his moments of relaxation, which were few, though\nhe was fairly well, and very happy, as no one can doubt on reading\nthis:--\n\n'Lots of jolly little children, and many of them know me quite well and\nare not a bit shy. They are often very sad-looking objects, and as they\ndon't get regularly washed, they often have large sores and abscesses,\npoor little things. But there are many others--clean-skinned, reddish\nbrown, black-eyed, merry little souls among them. The colour of the\npeople is just what Titian and the Venetian painters delighted in, the\ncolour of their own weather-beaten Venetian boatmen, glowing warm rich\ncolour. White folks look as if they were bleached and had all the colour\nwashed out of them.\n\n'Some of the Solomon Islanders are black, and some of the New Hebrides\npeople glossy and smooth and strong-looking; but here you seldom see any\nvery dark people, and there are some who have the yellow, almost olive\ncomplexion of the South European. Many of the women are tattooed from\nhead to foot, a regular network of a bluish inlaid pattern. It is not\nso common with the men, rather I ought to say very unusual with them,\nthough many have their bodies marked pretty freely.'\n\nOn the 17th sixteen more adults were baptized, elderly men, whose sons\nhad been baptized in New Zealand coming in, and enemies resigning deadly\nfeuds.\n\nThe work in Mota is best summed up in this last letter to Bishop\nAbraham, begun the day after what proved the final farewell to the flock\nthere, for the 'Southern Cross' came in on the 19th, and the last voyage\nwas at once commenced:--\n\n\n\"'Southern Cross\": Sunday, August 20, 1871.\n\n'My dear dear Friends,--Yesterday the \"Southern Cross\" came to me at\nMota, twenty-seven days after leaving that island for Norfolk Island\nwith some fifty Melanesians on board under charge of Bice.\n\n'Into what a new world your many kind affectionate letters take me!\nAnd how good it must be for me to be taught to think more than I, alas!\nusually do, about the trials and sorrows of others.\n\n'I have had such a seven weeks at Mota, broken by a three weeks' course\nin the New Hebrides, into two portions of three and four weeks.\n\n'Last year we said in our Report, that the time seemed to be come when\nwe should seek to move the people in Mota to do more than assent to the\ntruth of our words and the blessings promised in the Gospel, when\nwe should urge them to appropriate to themselves those blessings, by\nabandoning their ignorant heathen ways, and embracing Christianity.\n\n'That time has come in the good Providence of God, in answer to His\nall-prevailing Intercession, and hastened (who can doubt it?) by the\nprayers of the faithful everywhere--your Whit-Sunday thoughts and\nprayers, your daily thoughts and prayers, all contributing to bring\nabout a blessed change indeed in the little island.\n\n'In these two months I have baptized 289 persons in Mota, 231 children\nand infants, seventeen of the lads and boys at Kohimarama, George\nSarawia's school, and forty-one grown and almost all married men and\nwomen.\n\n'I have tried to proceed cautiously and to act only when I had every\nhuman probability of a personal conviction and sincere desire to embrace\nChristian teaching and to lead a Christian life. I think the adult\ncandidates were all competently instructed in the great truths.\n\n'I feel satisfied of their earnestness, and I think it looks like a\nstable, permanent work. Yet I need not tell you how my old text is ever\nin my mind, \"Thine heart shall fear, and be enlarged.\" Now more than\never are your prayers needed for dear old George Sarawia and his infant\nChurch.\n\n'I never had such an experience before. It is something quite new to me.\nClasses regularly, morning and evening, and all day parties coming to\ntalk and ask questions, some bringing a wife or child, some a brother,\nsome a friend. We were 150 sleeping on the Mission premises, houses\nbeing put up all round by people coming from a distance.\n\n'Scarce a moment's rest, but the work so interesting and absorbing, that\nI could scarcely feel weariness. The weather for six out of the seven\nweeks was very rainy and bad generally; but I am and was well, very\nwell--not very strong, yet walking to Gatava and back, five or six\nmiles, on slippery and wet paths, and schooling and talking all day.\n\n'The actual services were somewhat striking. The behaviour of the people\nreverent and quiet during the infants' and children's baptisms; and\nremarkably so during the baptisms of adults.\n\n'You can understand the drift of my teaching: trying to keep to the\ngreat main truths, so as not to perplex their minds with a multiplicity\nof new thoughts.\n\n'I think that I shall have to stay a few days at Mota on my return\n(D.V.) from Solomon and Santa Cruz Islands, as there are still many\nCatechumens.\n\n'I am half disposed to ordain George Priest on my return (D.V.) Yet on\nthe whole I think it may be better to wait till another year. But I am\nbalancing considerations. Should any delay occur from my incapacity to\ngo to Mota, which I don't at all anticipate, it would be a serious thing\nto leave such a work in the hands of a Deacon, e.g. ten communicants are\npermanent dwellers now in Mota; and I really believe that George, though\nnot learned, is in all essentials quite a fit person to be ordained\nPriest. This growth of the work, owing, no doubt, much to him, is a\nproof of God's blessing on him.\n\n'I pray God that this may be a little gleam of light to cheer you, dear\nfriends, on your far more toilsome and darksome path. It is a little\nindeed in one sense; yet to me, who know the insufficiency of the\nhuman agency, it is a proof indeed that the Gospel is dunamis Theou eis\nsoterian.\n\n'I can hardly realize it all yet. It is good to be called away from it\nfor a month or two. I often wished that Codrington, Palmer, and the rest\ncould be with me: it seemed selfish to be witnessing by myself all this\ngreat happiness--that almost visible victory over powers of darkness.\n\n'There is little excitement, no impulsive vehement outpouring of\nfeeling. People come and say, \"I do see the evil of the old life; I\ndo believe in what you teach us. I feel in my heart new desires, new\nwishes, new hopes. The old life has become hateful to me; the new life\nis full of joy. But it is so mawa (weighty), I am afraid. What if after\nmaking these promises I go back?\"\n\n\"What do you doubt--God's power and love, or your own weakness?\"\n\n'\"I don't doubt His power and love; but I am afraid.\"\n\n'\"Afraid of what?\" '\"Of falling away.\"\n\n'\"Doesn't He promise His help to those who need it?\"\n\n'\"Yes, I know that.\" '\"Do you pray?\"\n\n'\"I don't know how to pray properly, but I and my wife say--God, make\nour hearts light. Take away the darkness. We believe that you love us\nbecause you sent JESUS to become a Man and die for us, but we can't\nunderstand it all. Make us fit to be baptized.\"\n\n'\"If you really long to lead a new life, and pray to God to strengthen\nyou, come in faith, without doubting.\"\n\n'Evening by evening my school with the baptized men and women is the\nsaying by heart (at first sentence by sentence after me, now they know\nthem well) the General Confession, which they are taught to use in the\nsingular number, as a private prayer, the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the\nten Commandments (a short version). They are learning the Te Deum. They\nuse a short prayer for grace to keep their baptismal vows.\n\n'I think that they know fairly well the simpler meaning of these various\ncompendiums of Prayer, Faith and Duty. But why enter into details? You\nknow all about it. And, indeed, you have all had your large share, so to\nsay, in bringing about this happy change.\n\n'And then I turn from all this little secluded work to the thoughts of\nEngland and France, the Church at home, &c....\n\n'I have now read the \"Guardian's\" account of the civil war in France.\nThere is nothing like it to be read of, except in the Old Testament\nperhaps. It is like the taking of Jerusalem.\n\n'It is an awful thing! most awful! I never read anything like it. Will\nthey ever learn to be humble? I don't suppose that even now they admit\ntheir sins to have brought this chastening on them. It is hard to say\nthis without indulging a Pharisaic spirit, but I don't mean to palliate\nour national sins by exaggerating theirs. Yet I hardly think any mob but\na French or Irish mob could have done what these men did.\n\n'And what will be the result? Will it check the tendency to\nRepublicanism? Will Governments unite to put down the many-headed\nmonster? Will they take a lesson from the fate of Paris and France? Of\ncourse Republicanism is not the same thing as Communism. But where are\nwe to look for the good effects of Republicanism?\n\n'August 22nd.--The seventh anniversary of dear Fisher's death. May God\ngrant us this year a blessing at Santa Cruz!\n\n'Your affectionate\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThe last letter to the beloved sister Fanny opened with the date of her\nnever-forgotten birthday, the 27th of August, though it was carried\non during the following weeks; and in the meantime Mr. Atkin, Stephen,\nJoseph and the rest were called for from Wango, in Bauro, where they had\nhad a fairly peaceable stay, in spite of a visit from a labour traffic\nvessel, called the 'Emma Bell,' with twenty-nine natives under hatches,\nand, alas! on her way for more. After picking the Bauro party up, the\nBishop wrote to the elder Mr. Atkin:--\n\n\n'Wango Bay (at anchor): August 25, 1871.\n\n'My dear Mr. Atkin,--You may imagine my joy at finding Joe looking\nreally well when we reached this part of the world on the 23rd. I\nthought him looking unwell when he spent an hour or two with me at Mota,\nabout ten weeks since, and I begged him to be careful, to use quinine\nfreely, &c. He is certainly looking now far better than he was then, and\nhe says that he feels quite well and strong. There is the more reason to\nbe thankful for this, because the weather has been very rough, and\nrain has been falling continually. I had the same weather in the Banks\nIslands; scarcely a day for weeks without heavy rain. Here the sandy\nsoil soon becomes dry again, it does not retain the moisture, and so far\nit has the advantage over the very tenacious clayey soil of Mota.\n\n'Nearly all the time of the people here has been spent--wasted, perhaps,\nwe should say--in making preparations for a great feast: so that Joe\nfound it very hard to gain the attention of the people, when he tried\nto point out to them better things to think of than pigs, native money,\ntobacco and pipes. Such advance as has been made is rather in the\ndirection of gaining the confidence and good-will of the people all\nabout, and in becoming very popular among all the young folks. Nearly\nall the young people would come away with him, if the elders would allow\nthem to do so. I have no doubt that much more has been really effected\nthan is apparent to us now. Words have been said that have not been\nlost, and seed sown that will spring up some day. Just as at Mota, now,\nafter some twelve or thirteen years, we first see the result in the\nmovement now going on there, so it will be, by God's goodness, some day\nhere. There at Mota the good example of George Sarawia, the collective\nresult of the teaching of many years, and the steady conduct, with one\nexception, of the returned scholars, have now been blessed by God to\nthe conversion of many of the people. We no longer hesitate to baptize\ninfants and young children, for the parents engage to send them to\nschool when they grow up, and are themselves receiving instruction in a\nreally earnest spirit.\n\n'Many, too, of those who have for some time abandoned the old ways, but\nyet did not distinctly accept the new teaching, have now felt the \"power\nof the Gospel;\" and though many candidates are still under probation,\nand I sought to act with caution, and to do all that lay in my power\nto make them perceive the exceeding solemnity of being baptized, the\nweighty promises, the great responsibility, yet I thought it right to\nbaptize not less than forty-one grown men and women, besides seventeen\nlads of George's school, about whom there could be no hesitation. It\nhas, indeed, been a very remarkable season there. I spent seven weeks\nbroken by a New Hebrides trip of three weeks' duration into two periods\nof three and four weeks. Bice was with me for the first three weeks;\nand with a good many of our scholars turned into teachers here, we three\n(Bice, George, and I) kept up very vigorous school: a continual talking,\nquestioning, &c., about religion, were always going on day and night.\nMany young children and infants were baptized, about 240 in all + 41 +\n17.\n\n'You will, I am sure, pray more than ever for George and all these\nconverts to Christianity, that they may be strengthened and guarded\nagainst all evil, and live lives worthy of their profession. We hope to\nspend two or three days there on our return (D.V.); and if so, Joe will\nwrite you his impressions. Meanwhile, I tell him what I fully believe,\nthat no one hearty effort of his to benefit these poor people is thrown\naway. Already they allow us to take boys, and perhaps this very day we\nmay go off with two young girls also. And all this will result in some\ngreat change for the better some day.\n\n'You will want to hear a word about myself. I am much better, partly I\nconfess owing to the warmth of the climate, which certainly agrees with\nme. I may feel less well as we draw by-and-by to the south once more.\n\n'I can't take strong exercise, and that is a privation. It did me good,\nand I feel the want of it; but I am much better than I was a year or ten\nmonths ago, and I do my work very fairly, and get about better than I\nexpected. Remember me kindly to Mrs. Atkin and Mary, and believe me to\nbe\n\n'Your very sincere Friend,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nMr. Brooke and Edward Wogale had had a far more trying sojourn at\nFlorida.\n\n'Wogale suffered much from his eyes; and the labour ships were\nfrequently on the coast--all the three varieties: the fairly conducted\none with a Government agent on board; the \"Snatch-snatch,\" which only\ninveigled, but did not kill without necessity; and the \"Kill-kill,\"\nwhich absolutely came head-hunting. It was a dreary eleven weeks.\n\n'On July 11, a \"Sydney vessel,\" as the natives called it, was on the\nwest of the island, and nine natives were reported to Mr Brooke as\nhaving been killed, and with so much evidence that he had no doubt on\nthe subject.\n\n'On the 13th Takua came to him to say the \"Kill-kill\" vessel had\nanchored four miles off. What was he to do?\n\n'\"How was it you and Bisope came first, and then these slaughterers? Do\nyou send them?\"\n\n'Mr. Brooke advised them to remain on shore; but if the strangers landed\nand wanted to kill or burn them, to fight for their lives. \"Your words\nare the words of a chief,\" said Takua.\n\n'This ship, however, sailed away; but on August 13 another came, much\nlike the \"Southern Cross,\" and canoes went out to her, in one of them\nDudley Lankona. These returned safely, but without selling their fruit;\nand Dudley related that the men said, \"Bishop and Brooke were bad, but\nthey themselves were good, and had pipes and tobacco for those who would\ngo with them.\"\n\n'These, however, went away without doing them harm, only warning them\nthat another vessel which was becalmed near at hand was a \"killer,\" and\nthe people were so uneasy about her that Mr. Brooke went on board,\nand was taken by the captain for a maker of cocoa-nut oil. He was\na Scotchman, from Tanna, where he had settled, and was in search of\nlabourers; a good-natured friendly kind of person on the whole, though\nregarding natives as creatures for capture.\n\n'\"If I get a chance to carry a lot of them off,\" he said, \"I'll do it;\nbut killing is not my creed.\"\n\n'Mr. Brooke hinted that the natives might attack him, and he pointed to\nsix muskets. \"That's only a few of them. Let them come. We'll give it\nthem pretty strong.\"\n\n'He was rather taken aback when he found that he was talking to a\nclergyman. \"Well, wherever you go nowadays there's missionaries. Who\nwould have thought you'd got so far down?\"\n\n'And he looked with regret at Mr. Brooke's party of natives in their\ncanoes, and observed, \"Ah! my fine fellows, if your friend was not here\nI'd have the whole lot of you: what a haul!\"\n\n'He said the other ship was from Queensland, and had a Government agent\non board, of whom he spoke with evident awe.\n\n'On Mr. Brooke's return, Takua and Dikea were furbishing up old guns\nwhich some incautious person on board the \"Curacoa\" had given them,\nand they were disappointed to find that there could be no attack on the\nvessel.'\n\nShe, however, was scarcely gone before, at the other end of the island,\nVara, four out of five men were killed by a boat's crew. The survivor,\nSorova, told Mr. Brooke that he and one companion had gone out in one\ncanoe, and three more in another, to a vessel that lay near the shore.\nHe saw four blacks in her, as he thought Ysabel men. A white man came\ndown from the boat, and sat in the bow of Sorova's canoe, but presently\nstood up and capsized both canoes, catching at Sorova's belt, which\nbroke, and the poor fellow was thus enabled to get away, and shelter\nhimself under the stern of the canoe, till he could strike out for land;\nbut he saw a boat come round from the other side of the ship, with four\nmen--whether whites or light-coloured islanders was not clear--but they\nproceeded to beat his companions with oars, then to fall on them with\ntomahawks, and finally cut off their heads, which were taken on board,\nand their bodies thrown to the sharks.\n\nThese men evidently belonged to that lowest and most horrible class\nof men-stealers, who propitiate the chiefs by assisting them in\nhead-hunting.\n\nOf course the island was full of rage, and on the 26th again another\nbrig was in sight. Spite of warning, desire to trade induced five men to\nput off in a canoe. Two boats came down, and placed themselves on either\nside. Mr. Brooke could not watch, but a fierce shout arose from the\ncrowd on shore, they rushed to the great canoe house, and a war fleet\nwas launched, Dikea standing up in the foremost, with a long ebony spear\nin his hand. Fortunately they were too late: the boats were hauled up,\nand the brig went off at full sail. Whether the five were killed or\ncarried captive is not clear.\n\nThe whole place was full of wailing. Revenge was all the cry. 'Let not\ntheir pigs be killed,' said Takua; 'we will give them to Bisope, he\nshall avenge us.' His brother Dikea broke out: 'My humour is bad because\nBisope does not take us about in his vessel to kill-kill these people!'\n\nWhen, two days later, the 'Southern Cross' was unmistakeably in sight,\nTakua said, 'Let Bisope only bring a man-of-war, and get me vengeance\non my adversaries, and I shall be exalted like--like--like our Father\nabove!'\n\nThe residence of Mr. Brooke in the island, and the testimony of their\nown countrymen to the way of life in Norfolk Island, had taught the\nFloridians to separate the Bishop from their foes; but it could scarcely\nbe thus in places where confidence in him had not been established.\n\nThe Bishop meanwhile wrote on:--\n\n'The New Zealand Bishops have sent me a kind letter, a round robin,\nurging me to go to England; but they are ignorant of two things:-- 1st,\nthat I am already much better; 2nd, that I should not derive the benefit\ngenerally to my spirits, &c. from a visit to England as they would, and\ntake it for granted that I should do so.\n\n'They use only one other argument, viz., that I must rest after some\nyears' work. That is not so. I don't feel the pressure of work for a\nvery simple reason, viz., that I don't attempt to work as I used to do.\n\n'But just now, it is quite clear that I must not go, unless there were a\nvery obvious necessity for it. For, 1st, Mota needs all the help we can\ngive; 2nd, several Melanesians are coming on rapidly to the state\nwhen they ought to be ordained; 3rd, we are about to start (D.V.) new\nstations at Ambrym, Leper's Island, and Savo; 4th, the school is so\nlarge that we want \"all hands\" to work it; 5th, I must go to Fiji, and\nwatch both Fiji and Queensland; 6th, after the 1872 voyage, we shall\nneed, as I think, to sell this vessel, and have another new one built\nin Auckland. The funds will need careful nursing for this. But I will\nreally not be foolish. If I have a return of the bad symptoms, I will go\nto Dr. Goldsboro', and if he advises it strongly, will go to England.\n\n'The deportation of natives is going on to a very great extent here, as\nin the New Hebrides and Banks Islands. Means of all kinds are employed:\nsinking canoes and capturing the natives, enticing men on board, and\ngetting them below, and then securing hatches and imprisoning them.\nNatives are retaliating. Lately, two or three vessels have been taken\nand all hands killed, besides boats' crews shot at continually. A man\ncalled on me at Mota the other day, who said that five out of seven in\nthe boat were struck by arrows a few days before. The arrows were\nnot poisoned, but one man was very ill. It makes even our work rather\nhazardous, except where we are thoroughly well known. I hear that a\nvessel has gone to Santa Cruz, and I must be very cautious there, for\nthere has been some disturbance almost to a certainty.\n\n'Whatever regulations the Government of Queensland or the Consul of Fiji\nmay make, they can't restrain the traders from employing unlawful\nmeans to get hold of the natives. And I know that many of these men\nare utterly unscrupulous. But I can't get proofs that are sufficient to\nobtain a verdict in a court of law.\n\n'Some islands are almost depopulated; and I dread the return of these\n\"labourers,\" when they are brought back. They bring guns and other\nthings, which enable them to carry out with impunity all kinds of\nrascality. They learn nothing that can influence them for good. They are\nlike squatters in the bush, coming into the town to have their fling.\nThese poor fellows come back to run riot, steal men's wives, shoot,\nfight, and use their newly acquired possessions to carry out more\nvigorously all heathen practices.\n\n'September 3rd.--At anchor: Savo Island: Sunday. The experiment of\nanchoring at Sara (Florida) and this place answers well. The decks\nwere crowded and crammed; but the people behaved very well, barring the\npicking up of everything they could lay hands upon, as is natural to\nmany persons whose education has been neglected.\n\n'Yesterday I took Wadrokala (of Nengone) to the village here, where he\nis to live with some of our old scholars from these parts, and try to\nbegin a good work among the people. He has four baptized friends, a\nmarried couple being two, and three other very good lads, to start with.\nIt was a long and very hot walk. A year ago I could not have got through\nit. I was tired, but not over-tired.\n\n'And now we have had Holy Communion; and this afternoon we take our\nparty on shore: Wadrokala's wife Carry, and Jemima, their daughter of\neight or nine. There is no fighting or quarrelling here now. I know all\nthe people, so I leave them with good hope.'\n\n\nOn the 7th, Joseph Atkin began a letter as follows:--\n\n\n'Our Bishop is much improved in health and strength. His stay at Mota\nhas put new life into him again; the whole island is becoming Christian.\n\n'The Bishop is now very strong and clear about establishing permanent\nschools on the islands; I fear in almost too great a hurry. The great\nrequisite for a school is a native teacher; and generally, if not\nalways, a teacher ought, as George was at Mota, to be well supported by\na little band of native converts, who, if their teaching, in the common\nuse of the word, is not much, can, by their consistent lives, preach a\ncontinual sermon, that all who see may understand. What is the use of\npreaching an eloquent sermon on truth to a people who do not know what\nit means, or purity of which they have never dreamt? Their ears take\nin the words, they sound very pleasant, and they go away again to their\nsin; and the preacher is surprised that they can do so. I do not forget\nthe power of the Spirit to change men's hearts, but do not expect the\nHoly Spirit to work with you as He never worked with anyone else, but\nrather as He always has worked with others.... If in looking into the\nhistory of Missions, you find no heathen people has been even nominally\nand professionally Christianised within, say, ten or fifteen years, why\nnot be content to set to work to try that the conversion of those to\nwhom you are sent may be as thorough and real as possible in that time,\nand not to fret at being unable to hurry the work some years?'....\n\n\nThis letter too was destined never to be finished, though it was\ncontinued later, as will be seen.\n\n\nThe Bishop's next letter is dated--\n\n'September 16th.--Off the Santa Cruz group, some twenty miles distant.\nTo-morrow, being Sunday, we stay quietly some way off the islands;\nand on Monday (D.V.) we go to Nukapu, and perhaps to Piteni too, wind\npermitting. You can enter into my thoughts, how I pray God that if it be\nHis will, and if it be the appointed time, He may enable us in His\nown way to begin some little work among these very wild but vigorous\nenergetic islanders. I am fully alive to the probability that some\noutrage has been committed here by one or more vessels. The master of\nthe vessel that Atkin saw did not deny his intention of taking away from\nthese or from any other islands any men or boys he could induce to come\non board. I am quite aware that we may be exposed to considerable risk\non this account. I trust that all may be well; that if it be His will\nthat any trouble should come upon us, dear Joseph Atkin, his father and\nmother's only son, may be spared. But I don't think there is very much\ncause for fear; first, because at these small reef islands they know me\npretty well, though they don't understand as yet our object in coming\nto them, and they may very easily connect us white people with the other\nwhite people who have been ill-using them; second, last year I was on\nshore at Nukapu and Piteni for some time, and I can talk somewhat with\nthe people; third, I think that if any violence has been used to the\nnatives of the north face of the large island, Santa Cruz, I shall hear\nof it from these inhabitants of the small islets to the north, Nukapu,\nand Piteni, and so be forewarned.\n\n'If any violence has been used, it will make it impossible for us to go\nthither now. It would simply be provoking retaliation. One must say,\nas Newman of the New Dogma, that the progress of truth and religion\nis delayed, no one can say how long. It is very sad. But the Evil One\neverywhere and always stirs up opposition and hindrance to every attempt\nto do good. And we are not so sorely tried in this way as many others.'\n\nContrary winds--or rather a calm, with such light wind as there was,\ncontrary--kept the vessel from approaching the island for four days\nmore, while the volcano made every night brilliant, and the untiring pen\nran on with affectionate responses to all that the last home packet had\ncontained, and then proceeded to public interests:--\n\n'Then the great matters you write about--the great social and religious\ncrisis in England now. Moreover, who can estimate the effect of this\nGerman and French war upon the social state of Europe? Possibly a\ntemporary violent suppression in North Germany of Republican principles,\na reaction, an attempt to use the neutrality of England as a focus for\npolitical agitation. And then the extravagant luxury side by side with\ndegrading poverty! It is a sad picture; and you who have to contemplate\nit have many trials and troubles that are in one sense far away from me.\n\n'September 19th.--Here we are becalmed; for three days we have scarcely\nmade ten miles in the direction we want to go. It is not prudent to go\nnear the large island, unless we have a good breeze, and can get away\nfrom the fleets of canoes if we see reason for so doing. We may have one\nhundred and fifty canoes around us, and perhaps sixty or eighty strong\nmen on deck, as we had last year; and this year we have good reason\nfor fearing that labour vessels have been here. Many of the people here\nwould distinguish between us and them; but it is quite uncertain, for\nwe can't talk to the people of the large island, and can't therefore\nexplain our object in so doing. 'Yesterday, being becalmed, a large\ncanoe, passing (for there was occasionally a light air from the north)\nfrom Nupani to Santa Cruz, came near us. It could not get away, and the\n\"Southern Cross\" could not get near it. So we went to it in the boat. I\ncan talk to these Nupani people, and we had a pleasant visit. They knew\nmy name directly, and were quite at ease the moment they were satisfied\nit was the Bishop. They will advertise us, I dare say, and say a good\nword for us, and we gave them presents, &c.\n\n'I shall be thankful if this visit ends favourably, and oh! how thankful\nif we obtain any lads. It seems so sad to leave this fine people year\nafter year in ignorance and darkness, but He knows and cares for them\nmore than we do. 'The sun is nearly vertical; thermometer 91\u00b0, and 88\u00b0\nat night; I am lazy, but not otherwise affected by it, and spend my day\nhaving some, about an hour's, school, and in writing and reading.\n\n'I think that the Education question has been more satisfactorily\nsettled than I dared to hope a year ago. A religious, as opposed to\nan irreligious education has been advisedly chosen by the country, and\ndenominationalism (what a word!) as against secularism. Well, that's\nnot much from a Christian country; but it isn't the choice of an\nanti-Christian, or even of a country indifferent to Christianity.\n\n'Mrs. Abraham and Pena have sent me Shairp's little book on \"Religion\nand Culture.\" It is capital; and if you knew the man you would not\nwonder at his writing such sensible, thoughtful books. He is one of the\nmost \"loveable\" beings I ever knew. His good wholesome teaching is about\nthe best antidote I have seen to much of the poison circulating about in\nmagazines and alluring ignorant, unsound people with the specious name\nof philosophy. And he is always fair, and credits his opponents with all\nthat can possibly be imagined to extenuate the injury they are doing by\ntheir false and faithless teaching.'\n\n\nHere the letter suddenly ceases. No doubt this last sentence had given\nthe last impulse towards addressing the old Balliol friend above named,\nnow Principal of St. Andrew's, in the following:--\n\n\n'\"Southern Cross\" Mission Schooner,\n\n'In the Santa Cruz Group, S.W. Pacific: September 19.\n\n'My dear Principal,--You won't remember my name, and it is not likely\nthat you can know anything about me, but I must write you a line and\nthank you for writing your two books (for I have but two) on \"Studies on\nPoetry and Philosophy,\" and \"Religion and Culture.\"\n\n'The \"Moral Dynamic\" and the latter book are indeed the very books\nI have longed to see; books that one can put with confidence and\nsatisfaction into the hands of men, young and old, in these stirring and\ndangerous times.\n\n'Then it did me good to be recalled to old scenes and to dream of old\nfaces.\n\n'I was almost a freshman when you came up to keep your M.A. term; and as\nI knew some of the men you knew, you kindly, as I well remember, gave\nme the benefit of it. As John Coleridge's cousin and the acquaintance\nof John Keate, Cumin, Palmer, and dear James Eiddell, I came to know men\nwhom otherwise I could not have known, and of these how many there still\nare that I have thought of and cared for ever since!\n\n'You must have thought of Riddell, dear James Riddell, when you wrote\nthe words in p. 76 of your book on \"Religion and Culture\": \"We have\nknown such.\" Yes, there was indeed about him a beauty of character that\nis very very rare. Sellar is in the north somewhere, I think I have seen\nEssays by him on Lucretius.\n\n'I think that he is Professor at some University. I am ashamed to know\nso little about him. Should you see him, pray remember me most kindly\nto him. As year after year passes on, it is very pleasant to think there\nare men on the other side of the world that I can with a certainty count\nupon as friends.\n\n'I find it difficult to read much of what is worth reading nowadays, and\nI have little taste for magazines, &c., I confess.\n\n'But I know enough of what is working in men's minds in Europe to be\nheartily thankful for such thoughtful wholesome teaching as yours.\n\n'Indeed, you are doing a good work, and I pray God it may be abundantly\nblessed.\n\n'I remain, my dear Friend,\n\n'Very sincerely yours,\n\n'J. C. PATTESON.'\n\n\nThis is the last letter apparently finished and signed!\n\nTo the Bishop of Lichfield the long journal-letter says:--\n\n\n'Tenakulu (the volcano) was fine last night, but not so fine as on that\nnight we saw it together. But it was very solemn to look at it, and\nthink how puny all man's works are in comparison with this little\nvolcano. What is all the bombardment of Paris to those masses of fire\nand hundreds of tons of rock cast out into the sea? \"If He do but touch\nthe hills, they shall smoke.\"\n\n'And now what will the next few days bring forth? It may be God's will\nthat the opening for the Gospel may be given to us now. Sometimes I feel\nas if I were almost too importunate in my longings for some beginning\nhere; and I try not to be impatient, and to wait His good time, knowing\nthat it will come when it is the fulness of time. Then, again, I am\ntempted to think, \"If not soon, if not now, the trading vessels will\nmake it almost impossible, as men think, to obtain any opening here.\"\nBut I am on the whole hopeful, though sometimes faint-hearted.\n\n'To day's First Lesson has a good verse: Haggai, ii. 4;l and there is\nPsalm xci. also.'\n\nThen follows a good deal about further plans, and need of men; ending\nwith the decision that the present 'Southern Cross' ought to be sold,\nand that a new one could be built at Auckland for \u00a32,000, which the\nBishop thought he could obtain in New Zealand and Australia.\n\n'Yet now be strong, O Zerubbabel, saith the Lord; and be strong, O\nJoshua, son of Josedech, the high priest; and be strong, all ye people\nof the land, saith the Lord, and work: for I am with you, saith the Lord\nof hosts.'\n\nA much smaller additional vessel would be useful; and he merrily says:--\n\n'You don't know an amiable millionaire, with a nice quick yacht from 70\nto 120 tons, to be given away, and sent out to Auckland free of expense,\nI suppose.\n\n'We must give up all idea of our Chapel for a time, but we can do\nwithout it. And a vessel is necessary.'\n\nThe last of this letter is on Delitzsch and Biblical criticism, but too\nmuch mixed up with other persons' private affairs for quotation.\n\nReading Hebrew with Mr. Atkin, or studying Isaiah alone, had been the\nspecial recreation throughout the voyage.\n\nHis scholar Edward Wogale has given a touch of that last morning of the\n20th:--\n\n'And as we were going to that island where he died, but were still in\nthe open sea, he schooled us continually upon Luke ii. iii. up to\nvi., but he left off with us with his death. And he preached to us\ncontinually at Prayers in the morning, every day, and every evening on\nthe Acts of the Apostles, and he spoke as far as to the seventh chapter,\nand then we reached that island. And he had spoken admirably and very\nstrongly indeed to us, about the death of Stephen, and then he went up\nashore on that island Nukapu.'\n\nThat island Nukapu lay with the blue waves breaking over the circling\nreef, the white line of coral sand, the trees coming down to it; and\nin the glowing sun of September 20, the equatorial midsummer eve, four\ncanoes were seen hovering about the reef, as the 'Southern Cross' tried\nto make for the islet.\n\nMr. Brooke says that this lingering had seemed to intensify the Bishop's\nprayer and anxiety for these poor people; and, thinking that the unusual\nmovements of the vessel puzzled the people in the canoes, and that they\nmight be afraid to approach, he desired that at 11.30 A.M. the boat\nshould be lowered, and entered it with Mr. Atkin, Stephen Taroniara,\nJames Minipa, and John Nonono. He sat in the stern sheets, and called\nback to Mr. Brooke: 'Tell the captain I may have to go ashore.' Then he\nwaited to collect more things as presents to take on shore, and pulled\ntowards the canoes; But they did not come to meet the boat, and seemed\nundecided whether to pull away or not. The people recognized the Bishop;\nand when he offered to go on shore they assented, and the boat went on\nto a part of the reef about two miles from the island, and there met two\nmore canoes, making six in all. The natives were very anxious that they\nshould haul the boat up on the reef, the tide being too low for her to\ncross it, but, when this was not consented to, two men proposed to take\nthe Bishop into their boat.\n\nIt will be remembered that he had always found the entering one of their\ncanoes a sure way of disarming suspicion, and he at once complied. Mr.\nAtkin afterwards said he thought he caught the word 'Tabu,' as if in\nwarning, and saw a basket with yams and other fruits presented; and\nthose acquainted with the customs of the Polynesians--the race to\nwhich these islanders belonged--say that this is sometimes done that\nan intended victim may unconsciously touch something tabu, and thus may\nbecome a lawful subject for a blow, and someone may have tried to warn\nhim.\n\nThere was a delay of about twenty minutes; and then two canoes went with\nthe one containing the Bishop, the two chiefs, Moto and Taula, who had\nbefore been so friendly to him, being in them. The tide was so low that\nit was necessary to wade over the reef, and drag the canoes across to\nthe deeper lagoon within. The boat's crew could not follow; but they\ncould see the Bishop land on the beach, and there lost sight of him.\n\nThe boat had been about half-an-hour drifting about in company with the\ncanoes, and there had been some attempt at talk, when suddenly, at about\nten yards off, without any warning, a man stood up in one of them,\nand calling out, 'Have you anything like this?' shot off one of the\nyard-long arrows, and his companions in the other two canoes began\nshooting as quickly as possible, calling out, as they aimed, 'This for\nNew Zealand man! This for Bauro man! This for Mota man!' The boat was\npulled back rapidly, and was soon out of range, but not before three out\nof the four had been struck; James only escaped by throwing himself back\non the seat, while an arrow had nailed John's cap to his head, Mr. Atkin\nhad one in his left shoulder, and poor Stephen lay in the bottom of\nthe boat, 'trussed,' as Mr. Brooke described it, with six arrows in the\nchest and shoulders.\n\nIt was about two hours since they had left the ship when they reached\nit again: and Mr. Atkin said, 'We are all hurt? as they were helped\non board; but no sooner had the arrow-head, formed of human bone, and\nacutely sharp, been extracted, than he insisted on going back to find\nhis Bishop. He alone knew the way by which the reef could be crossed in\nthe now rising tide, so that his presence was necessary. Meantime Mr.\nBrooke extracted as best he might the arrows from poor Stephen.\n\n'We two Bisope,' said the poor fellow, meaning that he shared the same\nfate as the Bishop.\n\nAs Joseph Wate, a lad of fifteen, Mr. Atkin's Malanta godson and pupil,\nwrote afterwards, 'Joe said to me and Sapi, \"We are going to look for\nthe Bishop, are you two afraid?\"\n\n'\"No, why should I be afraid?\"\n\n'\"Very well, you two go and get food for yourselves, and bring a beaker\nfull of water for us all, for we shall have to lie on our oars a long\ntime to-day.\"'\n\nThe others who pulled the boat were Charles Sapinamba, a sailor, and\nMr. Bongarde, the mate, who carried a pistol, for the first time in the\nrecords of the 'Southern Cross.'\n\nThey had long to wait till the tide was high enough to carry them\nacross the reef, and they could see people on shore, at whom they gazed\nanxiously with a glass.\n\nAbout half-past four it became possible to cross the reef, and then two\ncanoes rowed towards them: one cast off the other and went back; the\nother, with a heap in the middle, drifted towards them, and they rowed\ntowards it.\n\n'But' (says Wate), 'when we came near we two were afraid, and I said to\nJoe, \"If there is a man inside to attack us, when he rises up, we shall\nsee him.\"'\n\nThen the mate took up his pistol, but the sailor said, 'Those are the\nBishop's shoes.'\n\nAs they came up with it, and lifted the bundle wrapped in matting into\nthe boat, a shout or yell arose from the shore. Wate says four canoes\nput off in pursuit; but the others think their only object was to secure\nthe now empty canoe as it drifted away. The boat came alongside, and\ntwo words passed, 'The body!' Then it was lifted up, and laid across the\nskylight, rolled in the native mat, which was secured at the head and\nfeet. The placid smile was still on the face; there was a palm leaf\nfastened over the breast, and when the mat was opened there were five\nwounds, no more.\n\nThe strange mysterious beauty, as it may be called, of these\ncircumstances almost makes one feel as if this were the legend of a\nmartyr of the Primitive Church; but the fact is literally true, and can\nbe interpreted, though probably no account will ever be obtained from\nthe actors in the scene.\n\nThe wounds were, one evidently given with a club, which had shattered\nthe right side of the skull at the back, and probably was the first, and\nhad destroyed life instantly, and almost painlessly; another stroke\nof some sharp weapon had cloven the top of the head; the body was also\npierced in one place; and there were two arrow wounds in the legs, but\napparently not shot at the living man, but stuck in after his fall, and\nafter he had been stripped, for the clothing was gone, all but the boots\nand socks. In the front of the cocoa-nut palm, there were five knots\nmade in the long leaflets. All this is an almost certain indication that\nhis death was the vengeance for five of the natives. 'Blood for blood'\nis a sacred law, almost of nature, wherever Christianity has not\nprevailed, and a whole tribe is held responsible for the crime of one.\nFive men in Fiji are known to have been stolen from Nukapu; and\nprobably their families believed them to have been killed, and believed\nthemselves to be performing a sacred duty when they dipped their weapons\nin the blood of the Bisope, whom they did not know well enough to\nunderstand that he was their protector. Nay, it is likely that there had\nbeen some such discussion as had saved him before at Mai from suffering\nfor Petere's death; and, indeed, one party seem to have wished to keep\nhim from landing, and to have thus solemnly and reverently treated his\nbody.\n\nEven when the tidings came in the brief uncircumstantial telegram, there\nwere none of those who loved and revered him who did not feel that such\nwas the death he always looked for, and that he had willingly given his\nlife. There was peace in the thought even while hearts trembled with\ndread of hearing of accompanying horrors; and when the full story\narrived, showing how far more painless his death had been than had\nhe lived on to suffer from his broken health, and how wonderfully the\nunconscious heathen had marked him with emblems so sacred in our eyes,\nthere was thankfulness and joy even to the bereaved at home.\n\nThe sweet calm smile preached peace to the mourners who had lost his\nguiding spirit, but they could not look on it long. The next morning,\nSt. Matthew's Day, the body of John Coleridge Patteson was committed\nto the waters of the Pacific, his 'son after the faith,' Joseph Atkin,\nreading the Burial Service.\n\nMr. Atkin afterwards wrote to his mother. He had written to his father\nthe day before; but the substance of his letter has been given in the\nnarrative:--\n\n\n'September 21, 1871.\n\n'My dear Mother,--We have had a terrible loss, such a blow that we\ncannot at all realise it. Our Bishop is dead; killed by the natives at\nNukapu yesterday. We got the body, and buried it this morning. He was\nalone on shore, and none of us saw it done. We were attacked in the boat\ntoo, and Stephen so badly wounded that I am afraid there is small hope\nof his recovery. John and I have arrow wounds, but not severe. Our\npoor boys seem quite awe-stricken. Captain Jacobs is very much cut\nup. Brooke, although not at all well, has quite devoted himself to the\nwounded, and so has less time to think about it all.\n\n'It would only be selfish to wish him back. He has gone to his rest,\ndying, as he lived, in his Master's service.\n\nIt seems a shocking way to die; but I can say from experience that it is\nfar more to hear of than to suffer. In whatever way so peaceful a life\nas his is ended, his end is peace. There was no sign of fear or pain on\nhis face--just the look that he used to have when asleep, patient and a\nlittle wearied. \"What a stroke his death will be to hundreds!\" What his\nMission will do without him, God only knows Who has taken him away. His\nways are not as our ways. Seeing people taken away, when, as we think,\nthey are almost necessary to do God's work on earth, makes one think\nthat we often think and talk too much about Christian work. What God\nrequires is Christian men. He does not need the work, only gives it to\nform or perfect the character of the men whom He sends to do it.\n\n'Stephen is in great pain at times to-night; one of the arrows seems\nto have entered his lungs, and it is broken in, too deep to be got out.\nJohn is wounded in the right shoulder, I in the left. We are both maimed\nfor the time; but, if it were not for the fear of poison, the wounds\nwould not be worth noticing. I do not expect any bad consequences, but\nthey are possible. What would make me cling to life more than anything\nelse is the thought of you at home; but if it be God's will that I am to\ndie, I know He will enable you to bear it, and bring good for you out of\nit.\n\n'Saturday, 23rd.--We are all doing well. Stephen keeps up his strength,\nsleeps well, and has no long attacks of pain. We have had good breezes\nyesterday and to-day--very welcome it is, but the motion makes writing\ntoo much labour. Brooke and Edward Wogale are both unwell--ague, I\nbelieve, with both of them; and Brooke's nerves are upset. He has slept\nmost of to-day, and will probably be the better for it.'....\n\nHis private journal adds:--\n\n'September 21st.--Buried the Bishop in the morning. The wounded all\ndoing well, but Stephen in pain occasionally. Calm day, passed over a\nreef in the morning, about eighteen miles north of Nukapu, nine fathoms\non it. Thermometer ninety-one degrees yesterday and to-day. Began\nwriting home at night. Began reading Miss Yonge's \"Chaplet of Pearls.\"\n\n'Friday, 22nd.--A light breeze came up in the evening, which freshened\nthrough the night, and carried us past Tenakulu. Stephen doing very\nwell, had a good night, and has very little pain to-day. A breeze\nthrough the day, much cooler. I am dressing my shoulder with brine. Read\nsome sermons of Vaughan's, preached at Doncaster during Passion Week.\n\n'Saturday, 23rd.--Breeze through the day. A few showers of rain.\nBrooke and Wogale down with ague; gave Wogale ipecacuanha and quinine\nafterwards. Read Mota prayers in evening. All wounds going on well.\nFinished \"Chaplet of Pearls,\" and wrote a little.\n\n'Sunday, 24th.--This morning the wind went round to N.E. and N. and then\ndied away. We were 55 miles W. of the Torres Islands at noon. Brooke\ntook English and Mota morning Prayers. I celebrated Holy Communion\nafterwards. John came into cabin; I went out to Stephen.\n\n'Brooke and Wogale both better, but B---- quite weak.'\n\nDuring that Celebration, while administering the Sacred Elements, Mr.\nAtkin's tongue stumbled and hesitated over some of the words.\n\nThen the Mota men looked at one another, and knew what would follow.\n\nHe knew it himself too, and called to Joseph Wate, his own special\npupil, saying (as the lad wrote to Mr. Atkin the elder), 'Stephen and I\nagain are going to follow the Bishop, and they of your country--! Who is\nto speak to them?'\n\n'I do not know.'\n\nThen he said again, 'It is all right. Don't grieve about it, because\nthey did not do this thing of themselves, but God allowed them to do\nit. It is very good, because God would have it so, because He only looks\nafter us, and He understands about us, and now He wills to take away us\ntwo, and it is well.'\n\nThere was much more for that strong young frame to undergo before the\nvigorous life could depart. The loss was to be borne. The head of the\nMission, who had gone through long sickness, and lain at the gates of\nthe grave so long, died almost painlessly: his followers had deeply\nto drink of the cup of agony. The night between the 26th and 27th was\nterrible, the whole nervous system being jerked and strained to pieces,\nand he wandered too much to send any message home; 'I lost my wits since\nthey shot me,' he said. Towards morning he almost leapt from his berth\non the floor, crying 'Good-bye.'\n\nMr. Brooke asked if he would have a little Sal volatile.\n\n'No.'\n\n'A little brandy?'\n\n'No.'\n\n'Do you want anything?'\n\n'I want nothing but to die.'\n\nThose were his last words. He lay convulsed on a mattress on the floor\nfor about an hour longer, and was released on the morning of the 29th.\n\nStephen, with an arrow wound in the lungs, and several more of these\nwounds in the chest, could hardly have lived, even without the\nterrible tetanus. He had spent his time in reading his Mota Gospel and\nPrayer-book, praying and speaking earnestly to the other men on board,\nbefore the full agony came on. He was a tall, large, powerfully framed\nman; and the struggles were violent before he too sank into rest on\nthe morning of the 28th, all the time most assiduously nursed by Joseph\nWate. On St. Michael's Day, these two teachers of poor Bauro received at\nthe same time their funeral at sea.\n\nJohn Coleridge Patteson was forty-four years and a half old.\n\nJoseph Atkin, twenty-nine.\n\nStephen Taroniara probably twenty-five--as he was about eighteen when\nhe joined the Mission in 1864. His little girl will be brought up at\nNorfolk Island; his wife Tara, to whom he had been married only just\nbefore his voyage, became consumptive, and died January, 1873, only\ntwenty minutes after her Baptism. As one of the scholars said, \"Had the\nsongs of the angels for joy of her being made a child of God finished\nbefore they were again singing to welcome her an inheritor of the\nkingdom of heaven?\"\n\nJohn Nonono showed no symptoms of tetanus, but was landed at Mota to\nrecover under more favourable circumstances than the crowded cabin could\nafford.\n\nCalms and baffling winds made the return to this island trying and\ndifficult, and Mota was not reached till the 4th of October. George\nSarawia was still perfectly satisfactory; and his community, on the\nwhole, going on hopefully. Want of provisions, which Mota could not\nsupply, made the stay very brief; and after obtaining the necessary\nsupplies at Aurora, the 'Southern Cross' brought her sad tidings to\nNorfolk Island on the 17th. That day Mrs. Palmer wrote:--\n\n\n'On Monday afternoon, 15th, Mr. Codrington went for a ride to the other\nside of the island, and there espied the schooner, eight miles off. He\nrode home quickly, and soon the shouting and racing of the boys told us\nthat the vessel had come. They were all at arrowroot-making. Never,\nI think, had the whole party, English and natives, seemed in higher\nspirits. Mr. Bice walked to the settlement, to see if she was far in\nenough to land that night; we asked him to call and tell us on his way\nhome.\n\n'Next morning Mr. Bice rode down to see if it really was the schooner,\nand was back to breakfast, all thinking we should soon see them come up.\n\n'Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice got their horses ready to ride down, and I\ngot the rooms ready, when, in an hour, a Norfolk Island boy rode up to\nsay the flag was half-mast high.'\n\n'We told the boys and girls something was wrong, to stop their joyous\nshouting and laughing; and then I waited till Mr. Jackson returned, and\nall he could say was, \"Only Brooke has come!\"'\n\nWhat more shall I tell? Comments on such a life and such a death are\nsuperfluous; and to repeat the testimonies of friends, outpourings of\ngrief, and utterances in sermons is but to weaken the impression of the\nreality!\n\nThere is pain too in telling the further fate of Nukapu. H.M.S.\n'Rosario,' Commander Markham, then cruising in the Southern Pacific,\ntouched at Norfolk Island, and Captain Markham undertook at once to go\nto the island and make enquiries.\n\nA protest was drawn up and signed by all the members of the Mission\nagainst any attempt to punish the natives for the murder; and Captain\nMarkham, a kind, humane, and conscientious man, as no one can doubt,\npromised that nothing of the kind should be attempted.\n\nBut the natives could not but expect retaliation for what they had done.\nThere was no interpreter. They knew nothing of flags of truce; and when\nthey saw a boat approaching, full of white men, armed, what could they\napprehend but vengeance for 'Bisope'? So they discharged a volley of\narrows, and a sergeant of marines was killed. This was an attack on the\nBritish flag, and it was severely chastised with British firearms. It\nis very much to be doubted whether Nukapu will ever understand that her\nnatives were shot, not for killing the Bishop, but for firing on the\nBritish flag. For the present the way is closed, and we can only echo\nFisher Young's sigh, 'Poor Santa Cruz people!'\n\nBishop Patteson's will bequeathed his whole inheritance to the\nMelanesian Mission, and appointed that the senior Priest should take\ncharge of it until another Bishop should be chosen.\n\nThe Rev. Robert Codrington, therefore, took the management, though\nrefusing the Episcopate; and considering the peculiar qualifications\nneedful for a Melanesian Bishop, which can only be tested by actual\nexperiment on physical as well as moral and spiritual abilities, it has,\nup to the present moment (May 1873), been thought better to leave the\nSee vacant, obtaining episcopal aid from the Bishop of Auckland.\n\nBut this implies no slackness nor falling off in the Mission. By God's\ngood providence, Coleridge Patteson had so matured his system that it\ncould work without him. Mr. Codrington and the other clergy make their\nperiodic voyages in the 'Southern Cross.' Kohimarama flourishes under\nGeorge Sarawia, who was ordained Priest at Auckland on St. Barnabas Day,\n1873. Bishop Cowie has paid a visit to Norfolk Island, and ordained\nas Deacons, Edward Wogale, Robert Pantatun, Henry Tagalana, to work in\nMota, Santa Maria, and Ara. Joseph Wate remains the chief teacher of the\nlads from Bauro; but there is much to be done before the work in that\nisland can be carried on. The people there seem peculiarly devoid of\nearnestness; and it is remarkable that though they were among the first\nvisited, and their scholars the very earliest favourites, Stephen has\nbeen the only one whose Christianity seems to have been substantial. But\nthe sight of his patient endurance had the same effect on those who\nwere with him in the ship as Walter Hotaswol's exhortations had had on\nhimself, and several of them began in earnest to prepare for Baptism.\n\nThe English staff of the Mission has been recruited by the Rev. John\nR. Selwyn, and the Rev. John Still, as well as by Mr. Kenny from New\nZealand. And there is good hope that 'He who hath begun a good work will\nperform it unto the day of the Lord.'\n\nAs to the crimes connected with the murder, the Queen herself directed\nthe attention of Parliament to it in her Speech at the commencement of\nthe Session of 1872. The Admiralty do what in them lies to keep watch\nover the labour vessels by means of Queen's ships; and in Queensland,\nregulations are made; in Fiji, the British Consul endeavours to examine\nthe newly arrived, whether they have been taken away by force. But\nit may be feared that it will not be possible entirely to prevent\natrocities over so wide a range; though if, as Bishop Patteson\nsuggested, all vessels unregistered, and not committed to trustworthy\nmasters, were liable to be seized and confiscated, much of the shameless\ndeceit and horrible skull-hunting would be prevented.\n\nPerhaps the fittest conclusion to the Bishop's history will be the words\nwritten by Henry Tagalana, translated literally by Mr. Codrington:--\n\n'As he taught, he confirmed his word with his good life among us, as\nwe all know; and also that he perfectly well helped anyone who might be\nunhappy about anything, and spoke comfort to him about it; and about his\ncharacter and conduct, they are consistent with the law of God. He gave\nthe evidence of it in his practice, for he did nothing carelessly, lest\nhe should make anyone stumble and turn from the good way; and again he\ndid nothing to gain anything for himself alone, but he sought what he\nmight keep others with, and then he worked with it: and the reason was\nhis pitifulness and his love. And again, he did not despise anyone, nor\nreject anyone with scorn; whether it were a white or a black person he\nthought them all as one, and he loved them all alike.'\n\n'He loved them all alike!' That was the secret of John Coleridge\nPatteson's history and his labours.\n\nNeed more be said of him? Surely the simple islander's summary of his\ncharacter is the honour he would prefer.","title":"Life of John Coleridge Patteson : Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian Islands","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":286624}