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'ianS^CJS'fS
LIFE
OF
JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON
MISSIONARY BISHOP of the MELANESIxVN ISLANDS
BY
CHARLOTTE MARY YONGE
Thine heart shall fear and be enlarged
Because the abundance of the sea shall be converted unto Thee
Isaiah, Ix. s
IN TWO VOLUMES
Vol. I.
SECOND EDITION
ITonbon
M A C M I L L A N AND CO.
1874
All rights ye.scyvert.
LONDON : PRINTED HY
SPOTTISWOOUli AND CO., NI£\V-S TUiaJT SQUAKE
AND PARLIAMENT STRl-ET
r' • ■ 1
PREFACE.
There are of course peculiar advantages as well as
disadvantag'es in endeavourino- to write the life of one
recently departed. On the one hand, the remem-
brances connected with him are far fresher ; his con-
temporaries can be consulted, and much can be made
matter of certainty, for which a few years would have
made it necessary to trust to hearsay or probable con-
jecture. On the other, there is necessarily much more
reserve ; nor are the results of the actions, nor even
their comparative importance, so clearly discernible as
when there has been time to ripen the fruit.
These latter drawbacks are doubled when the sub-
ject of the biography has passed away in comparatively
early life : when the persons with whom his life is
chiefly interwoven are still in full activity ; and when
he has only lived to sow his seed in many waters, and
has barely gathered any portion of his harvest.
Thus what I have written of Bishop Patteson, far
more what I have copied of his letters, is necessarily
only partial, although his nearest relations and closest
friends have most kindly permitted the full use of all
that could build up a complete idea of the man as he
was. Many letters relate to home and famil)- matters,
I. a
lf« SETS
vi Preface
such as it would be useless and impertinent to divulge ;
and yet it is necessary to mention that these exist,
because without them we might not know how deep
was the lonely man's interest and sympathy in all that
concerned his kindred and friends. Other letters only
repeat the narrative or the reflections given elsewhere ;
and of these, it has seemed best only to print that
w^hich appeared to have the fullest or the clearest ex-
pression. In general, the story is best told in letters
to the home party ; while thoughts are generally best
expressed in the correspondence with Sir John Taylor
Coleridge, to whom the Nephew seems to have written
wath a kind of unconscious carefulness of diction.
There is as voluminous a correspondence with the
Brother, and letters to many Cousins ; but as these either
repeat the same adventures or else are purely domestic,
they have been little brought forward, except where
any gap occurred in the correspondence which has
formed the staple material.
Letters upon the unhappy Maori war have been
purposely omitted ; and, as far as possible, such criti-
cisms on living personages as it seemed fair towards
the writer to omit. Criticisms upon their publications
are of course a different thing. My desire has been
to give enough expression of Bishop Patteson's opinions
upon Church and State affairs, to represent his manner
of thinking, without transcribing every detail of remarks,
which were often made upon an imperfect report, and
were, in fact, only written down, instead of spoken and
forgotten, because correspondence served ]u"m instead
of coiu'crsation.
Preface vii
I think I have represented fairly, for I have done
my best faithfully to select passages giving his mind
even where it does not coincide completely with my
own opinions ; being quite convinced that not only
should a biographer never attempt either to twist or
conceal the sentiments of the subject, but that either
to apologise for, or as it were to argue with them, is
vain in both senses of the word.
The real disadvantage of the work is my own very
slight personal acquaintance with the externals of the
man, and my ignorance of the scenes in which the
chief part of his life was passed. There are those who
would have been far more qualified in these respects
than myself, and, above all, in that full and sympathetic
masculine grasp of a man's powerful mind, which is
necessarily denied to me. But these fittest of all being
withheld by causes which are too well known to need
mention, I could only endeavour to fulfil the work as
best I might ; trusting that these unavoidable de-
ficiencies may be supplied, partly by Coleridge Patte-
son's own habit of writing unreservedly, so that he
speaks for himself, and partly by the very full notes
and records with which his friends have kindly sup-
plied me, portraying him from their point of view ; so
that I could really trust that little more was needed
than ordinary judgment in connecting and selecting.
Nor until the work is less fresh from my hand will it
be possible to judge whether I have in any way been
allowed to succeed in my earnest hope and endeavour
to bring the statue out of the block, and as it were to
carve the figure of the Saint for his niche among those
viii Preface
who have given themselves soul and body to God's
W^ork.
It has been an almost solemn work of anxiety, as
well as one of love. May I only have succeeded in
causing these letters and descriptions to leave a true
and definite impression of the man and of his example !
Let me here record my obligations for materials — I
need hardly say to the immediate family and re-
lations — for, in truth, I act chiefly as their amanuensis ;
but likewise to the Bishop of Lichfield, Bishop Abra-
ham, Lady Martin, the Rev. B. T. Dudley, the Rev.
R. Codrington, and Captain Tilly, for their valuable
aid — the two first mentioned by correction and revision,
the others by contributions such as could only be sup-
plied by eye-witnesses and fellow-workers. Many
others I must thank for kindly supplying me with
letters.
CHARLOTTE MARY YONGE.
ELDKRI'IELD, Otterijuurne
September 19, 1873.
LIST OF ISLANDS VISITED IN THE COURSE OF THE
MELANESIAN MISSION.
Group
Native Name
Spanish or French
Name
English Name
Nengon^ or Maro
Britannia
Loyalty . . -
Toka
Lifu
Uea
Anaiteum
Tanna
New Hebrides-
Futuna
Nina
Erromango
Fata:
—
Sandwich Isle
Mau
Sakelaba
—
Hinchinbrooke
Nguna ....
—
Montague
Mataso ....
—
Two Hills
Makura
Mai
—
Three Hills
Northern New J
Tasiko or Apee
Hebrides . ^
Lupevi
Paama
Malicolo or Sesok
Ambrym
Pentecote . .
Whitsuntide
Opa
—
Leper's Isle
Maiwo ....
—
Aurora
.
—
Espiritu Santo
r
Buninga
Tongariki
Shepherd Isles^
1
Ivalea
Iwose
I
Tongoa
Oanuta . .
—
—
Cherry Island
Tikopia
f
Merealava . . .
—
Star Island
Merigi ....
—
Betts Island
Gana
Santa Maria
Banks . . .
Vanua Lava . .
Great Banks
Mota
—
Sugar Loaf
Valua ....
—
Saddle
1
Ravenga
I
Ureparapara
—
Islands visited in the Melanesian Mission
LIST OF ISLANDS W^VYYAi— continued.
Group
Native Name
Spanish or French
Name
English Name
Roua ....
_
Bligh
Araa
Banks . . ■
—
Six Torres Islands
Vanikoro . . .
P^rouse
—
Tubua
Tamnako . . .
Duffs Island
■
Nunanga "]
Bakarimo [
leli f • •
Lomlom J
Nukapu ....
Indeni ....
—
Swallow's Island
Santa Cruz
Archipelago
Santa Cruz
Timolin's Island
Tenakula . . .
—
Volcano
Analogo
.
Nupani
■
Anudha ....
Florida
Mahaga ....
Ysabel
Oarii
Santa Catalina
Oaraha ....
Santa Anna
Solomon . \
Bauro ....
San Cristoval
Ulaua ....
Contrariety
Gera . 1
Maran ]"••'•
Guadalcanar
I
Mara
Malanta
Sikania . .
—
—
Stewart's or
Hogan's
Fore
Matuwawe
Mongaua . .
—
—
Rennell Island
Mongiki . . .
—
—
Bellona
PAGE
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
CHAPTER L
CHILDHOOD AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL, 1827-1838 , . I
CHAPTER H.
BOYHOOD AT ETON, 1838-1845 18
CHAPTER HI,
UNDERGRADUATE LIFE AT BALLIOL AND JOURNEYS ON THE
CONTINENT, 1845-1852 . 49
CHAPTER IV.
FELLOWSHIP OF MERTON, 1 85 2-1 854 S3
CHAPTER V.
THE CURACY AT ALFINGTON, 1853-1855 .... I40
xii Contents of the First Vob^me
CHAPTER VI.
PAGE
THE VOYAGE AND FIRST YEAR, 1855-1856 . . . . I91
CHAPTER Vn.
THE MELANESIAN ISLES, 1856-1857 250
CHAPTER Vni.
ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE AND LIFU, 1857-1859 .... 320
CHAPTER IX.
MOTA AND ST. ANDREW'S COLLEGE, KOHIMARAMA, 1859-1862 433
PORTRAIT OF J. C. PATTESON .... FfOJlfispicce
MAP . . to face p. 250
LIFE
OF
JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL
1 827-1838.
So much of a man's cast of character depends upon
his home and parentage that no biography can be
complete which does not look back at least as far as
the lives of the father and mother, from whom the
disposition is sure to be in part inherited, and by whom
it must often be formed. Indeed, the happiest natures
are generally those which have enjoyed the full benefit
of parental training without dictation, and have been
led, but not forced, into the way in which they should
go-
Therefore it will not be irrelevant to dwell on the
career of the father whose name, though still of great
weight in his own profession, may not be equally
known to the younger generation who have grown
up since the words 'Mr. Justice Patteson' were of
frequent occurrence in law reports.
John Patteson, father of the subject of the present
memoir, was son to a clergyman of a Norfolk family,
^d was born at Coney Weston on February 11,
2 Life of J oJin Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. I.
1790. He was educated at Eton, and there formed
more than one friendship, which not only lasted
throughout his life, but extended beyond his own
generation. Among the friends of his boyhood may
be mentioned John Taylor Coleridge, destined through
life to be his companion and colleague, and likewise
Hawtrey, afterwards head-master of Eton ; Milman,
afterwards Dean of St. Paul's, Lonsdale, and Charles
Sumner, the future Bishops of Lichfield and Winches-
ter. Sport and study flourished alike among such
lads as these, and while they were taught by Dr.
Goodall to delight in the peculiarly elegant and
accurate scholarship which was the characteristic of
the highest education of their day, their boyhood and
youth were full of the unstained mirth that gives such
radiance to recollections of the past, and often causes
the loyalty of affectionate association to be handed
on to succeeding generations. The thorough Etonian
impress, with all that it involved, was of no small
account in his life, as well as in that of his son.
The elder John Patteson was a colleger, and passed
on to King's College, Cambridge, whence, in 18 13, he
came to London to study law. In 18 16 he opened
his chambers as a special pleader, and on February
23, 18 18, was married to his cousin Elizabeth Lee,
after a long engagement. The next year, 18 19, he
was called to the Bar, and began to go the Northern
circuit. On April 3, 1820, Mrs. Patteson died,
leaving one daughter, Joanna Elizabeth. Four years
later, on April 22, 1824, Mr. Patteson married
Frances Duke Coleridge, sister of his friend and fellow-
barrister, John Taylor Coleridge. This lady, whose
name to all who remember her calls up a fair and
sweet memory of all that was good, bright, and beloved,
was the daughter of James Coleridge, of Heaths Court,
1827.] Birth 3
Ottery St. Mary, Devon, Colonel of the South Devon
Volunteers.^ He was the eldest of the numerous family
of the Rev. John Coleridge, Master of Ottery St. Mary
School, and the poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was
the youngest.
The strong family affection that existed between all
Colonel Coleridge's children, and concentrated itself
upon the only sister among them, made marriage with
her an adoption into a group that could not fail to
exercise a strong influence on all connected with it,
and the ties of kindred will be found throughout this
memoir to have had peculiar force.
John Coleridge Patteson, his mother's second child
and eldest son, was born at No. 9, Gower Street,
Bedford Square, on the ist of April 1827, and baptised
on the 8th. Besides the elder half-sister already men-
tioned, another sister, Frances Sophia Coleridge, a
year older than, and one brother, James Henry, nearly
two years younger than Coleridge, made up the family.
Three years later, in 1830, Mr. Patteson was raised
to the bench, at the unusually early age of forty.
Here we will quote from a memoir printed soon after
his death by Patrick Cumin, Esq.
During the twenty-two years that elapsed between
1830 and 1852, there was of course ample means
of testing the merit of the Judge. No man can
administer for so long a period civil and criminal
justice in this great country, in London, in Liverpool,
in the Guildhall, or at the Old Bailey, without
^ Colonel Coleridge's -wife was Frances Taylor, daughter of Frances
Duke, one of the co-heiresses of the old Devonshire family of Dukes, of
Otterton. Elizabeth Duke, her sister, married the Rev. John Yonge, of
Puslinch, my great grandfather ; and the connection, though now very
distant, has never been forgotten, having been happily strengthened by
ties of friendship in each generation.
B 2
4 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. i.
gaining or losing reputation. The parties interested
are too numerous, and their condition of life is too
various, while the duties of an English Judge are
almost all discharged in public, and his conduct is
constantly watched and jealously criticised by that
professional audience of rare discernment which
thronq-s the bar. Nor should it be forcrotten that
the body of solicitors and solicitors' clerks who are
constantly brought into practical contact with a
judge are critics whose judgment cannot be
neglected. His style was admirably clear and
succinct ; it reflected the character of his mind ; in
truth, he had every quality of a great judge. His
readiness and his acuteness were prominent, while
his singular impartiality was scarcely less conspicu-
ous. He had no difficulty in understanding the
most complicated statement of fact, or in following
the most subtle train of argument. His memory
was such that no fact, however slight, escaped him.
Even in describing the flight of a covey of partridges
and accounting for them, or in discussing the details
of a game of whist, his characteristic minuteness
and perspicuity received constant illustrations ; his
powerful judgment refused to be cajoled by any
sophistry however ingenious, and the mere statement
of his view seemed to explode the most elaborate
fallacy. It is said that the statement of Lord
Mansfield was worth another man's argument, and
the same might have been said of Mr. Justice
Patteson. He had moreover a perfect acquaintance
with the principles of the law which he had to
administer, and with the whole scries of cases in
wliich those principles had been established and
illustrated.' ....
1827-1835.] '^^^ Bench of 1830 5
Indeed it is probable that there never was a period
when the Judicial Bench could reckon a larger number
of men distinguished not only for legal ability but for
the highest culture and for the substantial qualities that
command confidence and respect. Those who can
recollect the regard in which were held the names of
Parke, Denman, Alderson, as well as Patteson and
Coleridge, and somewhat later, though still contempo-
rary, Erskine, Wightman, Erie, and Talfourd, will feel
that the middle of the nineteenth century was a time
when England might well be proud of her Judges.
There was much in the habits of the Bench and Bar
to lead to close and friendly intimacy, especially on the
circuits. When legal etiquette forbade the use of any
public conveyance, and junior barristers shared post-
chaises, while the leaders travelled in their own
carriages, all spent a good deal of time together,
and it was not unusual for ladies to go a great part of
the circuit with their husbands, especially when it lay
in the direction of their own neiorhbourhood. The
Judges' families often accompanied them, especially at
the summer assize, and thus there grew up close
associations between their children, which made their
intimacy almost like that of relationship. Almost all,
too, lived in near neighbourhood in those parts of
London that now are comparatively deserted, but which
were then the especial abodes of lawyers, namely those
adjacent to Bedford Square, where the gardens were
the daily resort of their children, all playing together
and knowing one another with that familiarity that
childhood only gives.
The children of Judges Patteson and Coleridge were
thus constantly meeting during their London life ; and
besides the tie of relationship between these two
brothers-in-law, Judge Patteson held closely the bond
6 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. I.
of county affinity with Baron Alderson, likewise a
Norfolk man, and in whom there was something
especially congenial both in depth of religious principle
and in more external qualities, for while Mr. Justice
Patteson was full of comic humour and drollery, in-
finitely enjoying merriment and constantly creating it,
Mr. Baron Alderson possessed a brilliant wit and
power of repartee which broke out in so many boii mots
that every witty saying of the day used to be attributed
to him. In fact, to be the child of a Judge, meant to
belong to the choicest intellectual and professional
society in town, and to have the opportunity of seeing
much of country life and making acquaintance in all
parts of England, when Judges were more elaborately
welcomed and entertained by the magnates of the
county than is always the case now railways have
made the transit so much more swift and easy.
* Sir John Patteson's contemporaries have nearly all,
one by one, passed away,' writes one of them, Sir
John Taylor Coleridge. ' He has left few, if any,
literary monuments to record what his intellectual
powers were ; and even in our common profession
the ordinary course and practice are so changed,
that I doubt whether many lawyers are now familiar
with his masterly judgments ; but I feel that I speak
the truth when I describe him as a man of singularly
strong common sense, of great acutencss, truthful-
ness, and integrity of judgment. These were great
judicial qualities, and to these he added much sim-
plicity and geniality of temper and manners; and
all these were crowned by a firm, unhesitating, de-
vout Ixlid in the doctrines of our faith, which issued
in strictness to himself and the warmest, gentlest
charity to his fellow-creatures. The result was what
^827-1835.] '^^^^ y'i('dge and Lady Pattcson 7
you might expect. Altogether it would be hard to
say whether you would characterise him as a man
unusually popular or unusually respected.'
Such was the character of Mr. Justice Patteson, a
character built upon the deep, solid groundwork of
religion, such as would now be called that of a sound
churchman of the old school, thoroughly devout and
scrupulous in observance, ruling his family and house-
hold on a principle felt throughout, making a conscience
of all his and their ways, though promoting to the ut-
most all innocent enjoyment of pleasure, mirth, or gaiety.
Indeed, all who can look back on him or on his home
remember an unusual amount of kindly, genial cheer-
fulness, fun, merriment, and freedom, i.e. that obedient
freedom which is the most perfect kind of liberty.
Though this was in great part the effect of having
such a head of the family, the details of management
could not but chiefly depend upon the mother, and
Lady Patteson was equally loved for her tenderness
and respected for her firmness. ' She was, indeed,'
writes her brother, ' a sweet and pious person, of the
most affectionate, loving disposition, without a grain of
selfishness, and of the stoutest adherence to principle
and duty. Her tendency was to deal with her children
fondly, but this never interfered with good training and
discipline. What she felt right, she insisted on, at
whatever pain to herself.'
She had to deal with strong characters. Coleridge,
or Coley, to give him the abbreviation by which he
was known not only through childhood but through
life, was a fair little fellow with bright deep-blue eyes,
inheriting much of his nature from her and her family,
but not by any means a model boy. He was, indeed,
deeply and warmly affectionate, but troublesome
8 Life of John Cok^Hdge Patteson [Ch. I.
through outbreaks of will and temper, showing all the
ordinary instinct of trying how far the authorities for the
time being will endure resistance ; sufficiently indolent
of mind to use his excellent abilities to save exertion
of intellect ; passionate to kicking and screaming pitch,
and at times showing the doggedness which is such a
trial of patience to the parent. To this. Lady Patteson
* never yielded ; the thing was to be done, the point given
up, the temper subdued, the mother to be obeyed, and
all this upon a principle sooner understood than parents
suppose.'
There were countless instances of the little boy's
sharp, stormy gusts of passion, and his mother's steady
refusal to listen to his ' I will be good ' until she saw
that he was really sorry for the scratch or pinch which
he had given, or the angry word he had spoken ; and
she never waited in vain, for the sorrow^ was very real,
and generally ended in ' Do you think God can forgive
me ?' When Fanny's love of teasing had exasperated
Coley into stabbing her arm with a pencil, their mother
had resolution enough to decree that no provocation
could excuse ' such unmanliness ' in a boy, and inflicted
a whipping which cost the girl more tears than her
brother, who was full of the utmost grief a child could
feel for the offence. No fault was lightly passed over;
not that punishment was inflicted for every misde-
meanour, but it was always noticed, and the children
were shown with grave gentleness where they were
wrong ; or when there was a squabble among them, the
mother's question, ' Who will give up ? ' generally pro-
duced a chorus of ' I ! I ! I ! ' Withal ' mamma' was
the very life of all the fun, and play, and jokes, enjoying
all with spirits and merriment like the little ones' own,
and delighting in the exchange of caresses and tender
epithets. Thus affection and generosity grew up
1832.] The First Bible 9
almost spontaneously towards one another and all the
world. Once, when on a visit to Oxford, little Fanny-
put her foot through a pane of glass, and cried out in
dismay, ' Oh, mamma, I did not mean to be an expense
to you ! ' Coley put his whole property, three shillings,
into her hand to repair the damage.
On this disposition was grafted that which was the
one leading characteristic of Coley's life, namely, a
reverent and religious spirit, which seems from the
first to have been at work, slowly and surely subduing
inherent defects, and raising him, step by step, from
grace to grace.
Five years old is in many cases an age of a good
deal of thought. The intelligence is free from the
misapprehensions and misty perceptions of infancy ;
the first course of physical experiments is over, freedom
of speech and motion have been attained, and yet there
has not set in that burst of animal growth and spirits
that often seems to swamp the deeper nature through-
out boyhood. By this age, Coley was able to read,
and on his birthday he received from his father the
Bible which was used at his consecration as Bishop
twenty -seven years later. He read it eagerly, puzzled
his brains as to what became of the fish during the
Flood, and, when suddenly called to the nursery, begged
to be allowed to ' finish the binding of Satan for a
thousand years.' When, in his last letter, he calls it
idle and selfish in himself to be eng-rossed with reading
Isaiah in Hebrew with Delitzsch's comments, it is im-
possible not to recollect the lines of one who had known
and loved his mother : —
They talk of wells in caverns deep
Whose waters run a wondrous race
Far underground, and issuing keep
Our floating tokens, bright or base:
lo Life of yohii Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. I.
So in the child's light play we read
The portion to the man decreed;
His future self he seeks to prove
In camp or field, in warfare or in love. — Kcblc.
For in those days he used to say that his first sermon
should be on Is. Hii. He had an earnest wish to be
a clergyman, because he thought saying the Absolution
to people must make them so happy, ' a belief he must
have gleaned from his Prayer-book for himself, since
the doctrine was not in those days made prominent.'
The purpose was fostered by his mother. ' She delighted
in it, and encouraged it in him. No thought of a family
being to be made, and of Coley being the eldest son,
ever interfered for a moment. That he should be a
good servant at God's altar was to her above all price. '^
. Of course, however, this was without pressing the
thought on him. He grew on, with the purpose
accepted but not discussed, except from time to time a
half-playful, half-grave reference to himself as a future
clergyman.
Another of these foreshadowings, if we may venture
so to call them, is remembered in connection with the
great West Indian hurricane of August ii, 1833,
when Coley was much excited by the story of the exer-
tions of his mother's cousin, Dr. William Coleridge,
first Bishop of Barbadoes, and exclaimed, ' I will be a
Bishop ! I will have a hurricane ! ' and in truth his ideal
of life may then have received an impress which later
interests deepened.
Reverence was strongly implanted in him. His old
nurse (still his sister's valued servant) remembers the
little seven years old boy, after saying his own prayers
at her kiKic, standing opposite to his little brother,
admonishing him to attention with ' Tliink, Jemmy;
' Sec J. T. Coleridge.
1834-] Early Religions Training ii
think.' In fact, devoutness seems to have been natural
to him. It appears to have been the first strongly
traceable feature in him, and to have gradually subdued
his faults one by one.
Who can tell how far this was fostered by those old-
fashioned habits of strictness which it is the present
habit to view as repellent ? Every morning, immedi-
ately after breakfast, Lady Patteson read the Psalms
and Lessons for the day with the four children, and
after these a portion of some book of religious instruc-
tion, such as ' Home on the Psalms ' or ' Daubeny on
the Catechism.' The evenino- studies were in charo^e of
Miss Neill, the governess, and the life-long friend of
her pupils ; but the mother made the religious instruc-
tion her individual care, and thus upheld its pre-emi-
nence. Sunday was likewise kept distinct in reading,
teaching, employment, and whole tone of conversation,
and the effect was assuredly not that weariness which
such observance is often supposed to produce, but rather
lasting benefit and happy associations. Coley really
enjoyed Bible reading, and entered into explanations,
and even then often picked up a passage in the sermons
he heard at St. Giles's-in-the-Fields from the Rev. J.
Endell Tyler, and would give his home oracles no
peace till they had made it as clear to his comprehen-
sion as was possible.
The love of his home may be gathered from the fact
that his letters have been preserved in an unbroken
series, beginning from a country visit in 1834, after a
slight attack of scarlet fever, written in the round-hand
of a boy of seven years old, and finished off with the big
Roman capitals FINIS, AMEN, and ending with the
uncompleted sheets, bearing as their last date September
19, 1871.
The boy's first school was at Ottery St. Mary, in
12 Life of JoJin Coleridge Patteson [Ch. i.
Devonshire, of which his great grandfather and great
uncle had both been head-masters. It is in many
respects a remarkable place, being one of the King's
schools endowed at the Reformation out of the ruins of
older institutions. ' Awtrey St. Mary' had originally
owned a college of clergy and canons, endowed by
Bishop Grandison, of Exeter, and chartered by Edward
III., and with a school attached to it. When Henry
VIII. broke up the college, giving the great tithes to
the chapter of Windsor, and the estates to his brother-
in-law Seymour, the school was, however, allowed to
survive under the title of the King's New Grammar
School.
It had its vicissitudes depending on the qualities of
the master. At the end of the 1 7th century it numbered
two hundred scholars, and shortly after not one.
Under the Rev. John Coleridge (father of the Colonel)
it recovered its prosperity, but after his time so declined,
that when his son George obtained the mastership,
he found only two scholars at the utmost, and the
schoolroom tenanted by poultry and rabbits. Under
him, with the assistance of his brother Edward, Ottery
rose again to well-merited distinction, for he was a most
thorough-going teacher, requiring an amount and
accuracy of work that stimulated the strong and willing
though it sometimes crushed the weak. Most of the
Devonshire men of that day began, and some finished,
their education there ; and many of those who were
transferred to public schools were wont in after life to
say that they had not only learned more at Ottery than
anywhere else, but that they had there been taught
the most important means of study, namely, how to
learn. Under George Coleridge, Ottery became, and
continued for many years after his death, the principal
preparatory school of the county, and the Rev. Sidney
1835-] Ottery St. Mary 13
W. Cornish was the master in 1835, when Coleridge
Patteson entered it.
On one whose love of the beautiful was innate, the
Church of St. Mary could not fail to have a strong
attraction. At that time neglect, mischief, whitewash,
and the carpentry of comfort had done their utmost to
deface its beauty, but nothing could entirely disguise
the grandeur of the mass of building with the two
towers, one surmounted by a curious lead-covered
spire ; nor destroy the majestic effect of the interior, so
spacious and lofty as to seem more like a cathedral
than a parish church.
The whole place is one that greatly attaches those
connected with it, for though the market town itself
possesses little of interest, and the adjoining country
has not the striking features of the more westerly parts
of the county, the Otter is a lovely river, and the
valley is enclosed by steep banks abounding in pleasant
nooks, made beautiful by trees and brushwood. One
of these, the Pixie's parlour, has been celebrated by
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and the whole place well
deserves the tribute paid to it by another of its scholars,
the Rev. George Cornish : —
Then honour to St. Mary's tower,
The college and the school,
And honour to the Pixie's bower,
And to the maiden pool ;
May they to boys hereafter be
The teachers they have been to me.
Still may these haunts, these groves, this sky
Kind ministrations yield,
The common things that round them lie
Their better nature build,
And teach them gently to improve
All harsher feelings into love.
There was much to make Ottery homelike to Coley,
for his grandparents lived at Heaths Court, close to
14 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. I.
the church, and in the manor house near at hand
their third son, Francis George Coleridge, a sohcitor,
whose three boys were near contemporaries of-Coley,
and two of them already in the school.
But to so loving a nature the separation from home
was a terrible disaster, and the first letter was doleful
enough : —
* I never can be happy till I have left college, except
in the holidays. School is a place of torment
almost to me, but I must go to school some time or
other, or else I shall never be a judge, as I hope to
be some day. To think of you all makes me chry.
I believe you will not mind that blot, for it was a
tear just before that fell.'
Be it observed that the superfluous // in ' chry ' is
the only misspelling in the little eight years old boy's
unassisted composition.
From first to last these letters to his parents show
no symptom of carelessness, they are full of ease and
confidence, outpourings of whatever interested him
whether small or great, but always respectful as well
as affectionate, and written with care and pains, being
evidently his very best ; nor does the good old formula,
' Your affectionate and dutiful son,' ever fail or ever
produce stiffness.
The shrinking from rough companions, and the
desire to be with the homelike relatives around,
proved a temptation, and the little boy was guilty of
makiner false excuses to obtain leave of absence. We
cannot refrain from giving his letter of penitence,
chielly for the sake of the good sense and kindness of
his uncle's treatment.
1 S36.] Correction 1 5
April 26, 1836,
My dear Papa, — I am very sorry for having told so
many falsehoods, which Uncle Frank has told
mamma of. I am very sorry for having done so
many bad things, I mean falsehoods, and I heartily
beg your pardon ; and Uncle Frank says that he
thinks, if I sta)', in a month's time Mr. Cornish
will begin to trust me again. Uncle Frank to-day
had me into his house and told me to reflect upon
what I had done. He also lectured me in the
Bible, and asked me different questions about it.
He told me that if I ever told another falsehood he
should that instant march into the school and ask
Mr. Cornish to strip and birch me ; and if I followed
the same course I did now and did not amend it,
if the birching did not do, he should not let me go
home for the holidays, but I will not catch the
birching . . .
So believe me your dear Son,
J. C. Patteson.
On the flap of the letter ' Uncle Frank ' writes to
the mother.
My dear Fanny, — I had Coley in my room to-day,
and talked to him seriously about his misdeeds, and
I hope good has been done. But I could scarcely
keep my countenance grave when he began to re-
duce by calculation the exact number of fibs he had
told. He did not think it was more than two or
three at the utmost, and when I brought him to
book, I had much to do to prevent the feeling that
the sin consisted in telling many lies. However,
the dear boy's confession was as free as could be
expected, and I have impressed on his mind the
1 6 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoit [Ch. I.
meanness, cowardice, and wickedness of the habit, and
what it will end in here and hereafter. He has
promised that he will never offend in future in like
manner, and I really believe that his desire to be
away from the school and at ease among his friends
induced him to trump up the invitations, &c., to Mr.
Cornish, in which consisted his first fibs. I shall
watch him closely, as I would my own child ; and
Cornish has done wisely, I think, by giving the
proper punishment of confining him to the school
court, &c., and not letting him go to his friends for
some time. The dear boy is so affectionate, and
has so much to work on, that there is no fear of
him ; only these things must be looked after
promptly, and he must learn practically (before his
reason and religion operate) that he gains nothing
by a lie. . . He is very well, and wins one's heart
in a moment. . .
Ever your affectionate Brother,
F. G. C.
The management was effectual, and the penitence
real, for this fault never recurred, nor is the boy's
conduct ever again censured, though the half-yearly
reports often lament his want of zeal and exertion.
Coley was sufficiently forward to begin Greek on his
first arrival at Ottery, and always held a fair place for
his years, but throughout his school career his cha-
racter was not that of an idle but of an uninterested
boy, who preferred play to work, needed all his con-
science to make him industrious, and then was easily
satisfied with his licrformances, naturally comparing
them with those of other boys, instead of doing his
own utmost, and giving himself full credit for the
diligence he thought he had used. For it must be
1835.] sports at Ottery 17
remembered that it was a real, not an ideal nature ;
not a perfect character, but one full of the elements of
growth.
A childish, childlike boy he was now, and for many
years longer, intensely fond of all kinds of games and
sports, in which his light active form, great agility, and
high spirit made him excel. Cricket, riding, running
races, all the school amusements were his delight ;
fireworks for the 5th of November sparkle with ecstasy
through his letters, and he was a capital dancer in the
Christmas parties at his London home. He had like-
wise the courage and patience sure to be needed by
an active lad. While at Ottery, he silently bore the
pain of a broken collar-bone for three weeks, and when
the accident was brought to light by his mother's em-
brace, he only said that ' he did not like to make a
fuss.'
Consideration for others, kindness, and sweetness of
nature were always his leading characteristics, making
him much beloved by all his companions, and an
excellent guardian and example to his little brother,
who soon joined him at Ottery. Indeed the love
between these two brothers was so deep, quiet, and
fervid that it is hard to dwell on it while ' one is taken
and the other left.' It was at this time a rough, buffet-
ing, boyish affection, but it was also a love that made
separation pain and grief, and on the part of the elder
it showed itself in careful protection from all harm or
bullying, and there was a strong underlying current of
tenderness, most endearing to all concerned with the
boys, whether masters, relations, friends, or servants.
1 8 Life of yohn Coleiddge Patteson [Ch. ll.
CHAPTER II.
BOYHOOD AT ETON
1838— 1845
After the Christmas holidays of 1837-8, when Coley
Patteson was nearly eleven years old, he was sent to
Eton, that most beautifully situated of public schools,
whose delightful playing fields, noble trees, broad river,
and exquisite view of Windsor Castle give it a peculiar
charm, joining the venerable grandeur of age to the
freshness and life of youth, so as to rivet the affections
in no common degree.
It was during the head-mastership of Dr. Hawtrey
that Patteson became, in schoolboy phrase, an Eton
fellow, being boarded in the house of his uncle, the
Rev. Edward Coleridge, one of the most popular
and successful Eton masters. Several of his cousins
were also in this house, with other boys who became
friends of his whole life, and he was thoroughly happy
there, although in these early days he still felt each
departure from home severely, and seldom failed to
write a mournful letter after the holidays. There is
one, quite pathetic in its simplicity, telling his mother
how he could not say his prayers nor fall asleep on his
first night till he had resolutely put away the handker-
chief that seemed for some reason a special link with
hoiiie. It illustrates what all who remember him say,
how thoroughly a childlike b(.:ing lie still was, though a
1838.] Montem 19
\ve]l-;^rown, manly, high-spirited boy, quite able to take
care of himself, keep his place, and hold his own.
He was placed in the lower remove of the fourth
form, which was then ' up to ' the Rev. Charles
Old Goodford, i.e. that was he who taught the division
so called in school. The boy was evidently vv^ell pre-
pared, for he was often captain of his division, and his
letters frequently tell of successes of this kind, while
they anticipate ' Montem.'
This festival has been so long abolished that a few
words of explanation may be needed. It seems to
have been a remnant of old times when students lived
upon alms that once in three years the captain of the
school, always a King's scholar, was allowed to make
a collection to pay his expenses at King's College,
Cambridge. In memory of good King Henry VI. the
Court always held itself bound to contribute, meeting
the boys for the purpose ad Montem (at the mountain)
called Salt Hill, because the needs of the scholar
passed under the general term of salt, and the name
had passed on to the gifts made to provide for them.
Originally this collection seems to have been made on
December 6, Feast of St. Nicholas, the patron of
scholars, and to have been the finale to a religious
service performed in Latin on Salt Hill by the boys,
no doubt one of those children's ceremonials, beginning
on that day and ending on the Feast of the Holy
Innocents, which prevailed in different forms through-
out the Western Church in commemoration of the
Childhood of our Lord, and almost always degenerat-
ing into irreverence and buffoonery.
When roads ceased to be impassable, so that schools
could break up for Christmas holidays, Montem was
transferred to the sunshine of Tuesday in Whitsun
week. Two boys, dressed as parson and clerk, con-
c 2
20 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. il.
tinned to go through the Latin service until far on into
the eighteenth century, when tlie irreverence of the
proceeding caused its discontinuance, and the pageant
was Hmited to a procession of the boys three times
round the school yard, and then to Salt Hill, where a
flag was waved and a dispersion took place, the salt-
bearers gathering their dole, and the others disporting
themselves among the friends and kin who mustered
strongly on those days, dear to the Etonian heart both
old and young.
The captain of the school wore the scarlet and gold
of the corresponding rank in the army, and the rest of
the sixth form, always twenty in number, figured in
uniform as his officers, excepting the two salt-bearers,
who wore fancy dresses of gorgeous silk and velvet,
carried large embroidered bags as purses, and were
attended each by two little pages, selected from among
the fags, and attired with equal splendour. The fifth
form, which comprehended about half the school in
its many subdivisions, wore red coats, white trousers,
silk stockings, and cocked hats, as the rank and file,
and each was attended by a ' lower boy ' in an Eton
blue coat with a wand in his hand ; so that the pro-
cession was a brilliant mixture of red, blue, and white,
delightful to the admiring gaze of mothers, sisters, and
cousins, as it marched beneath the grey buildings, or
below the elms in their early summer freshness.
Railroads have been the destruction of Montem.
The cheap and easy transit rendered Salt Hill no
longer the resort merely of kindly friends connected
with Eton, but of an unmanageable number of sight-
seers ; the expenses were felt to be a heavy tax upon
parents, and the year 1844 saw the last Montem.
But that of 1S38 was a brilliant one, for Queen
Victoria, then only nineteen, and her first year of
1838.] Windsor Terrace 21
sovereignty not yet accomplished, came from the
Castle to be driven in an open carriage to Salt Hill
and bestow her Royal contribution.
In the throng, little Patteson was pressed up so close
to the Royal carriage that he became entangled in
the wheel, and was on the point of being dragged under
it, when the Queen, with ready presence of mind, held
out her hand : he grasped it, and was able to regain
his feet in safety, but did not recover his perceptions
enough to make any sign of gratitude before the
carriage passed on. He had all a boy's shyness about
the adventure ; but perhaps it served to quicken the
personal loyalty which is an unfailing characteristic of
' Eton fellows.'
The Royal custom of the Sunday afternoon parade
on the terrace of Windsor Castle for the benefit of the
gazing public afforded a fine opportunity for cultivating
this sentiment, and Coley sends an amusingly minute
description of Her Majesty's dress, evidently studied
for his mother's benefit, even to the pink tips of her
four long ostrich feathers, and calling to mind Chalon's
water-colours of the Queen in her early youth. He
finishes the description with a quaint little bit of
moralising. ' It certainly is very beautiful with two
bands playing on a calm, blessed Sunday evening, with
the Queen of England and all her retinue walking
about. It gives you an idea of the Majesty of God,
who could in one short second turn it all into confu-
sion. There is nothing to me more beautiful than
the raising one's eyes to Heaven, and thinking with
adoration who made this scene, and who could un-
make it again.'
A few clays later the record is of a very different
scene, namely, Windsor Fair, when the Eton boys
2 2 Lite of folui Coleridge Paticsou [Ch. ii,
used to imaginre they had a prescriptive right to make
a riot and revel in the charms of misrule.
* On the second day the Eton fellows always make an
immense row. So at the signal when a thing was
acting, the boys rushed in and pulled down the cur-
tain, and commenced the row. I am happy to say
I was not there. There were a great many soldiers
there, and they all took our part. The alarm was
given, and the police came. Then there was such a
rush at the police. Some of them tumbled over,
and the rest half knocked down. At last they took
in custody three of our boys, upon which every boy
that was there (amounting to about 450) was sum-
moned, lliey burst open the door, knocked down
the police, and rescued our boys. Meantime the
boys kept on shying rotten eggs and crackers, and
there was nothing but horhtinor and rushinof.'
A startling description ! But this was nothing to the
wild pranks that lived in the traditions of the elder
generation ; and in a few years more the boys were
debarred from the mischievous licence of the fair.
Coley had now been nearly a year at Eton, and had
proceeded through the lower and middle removes of
the fourth form, when, on November 23, he achieved
the success of which he thus writes : —
* Rejoice ! I was sent up for good yesterday at eleven
o'clock school. I do not know what copy of verses
for yet, but directly I do, I will send you a copy. . . .
Goodford, when I took my ticket to be signed (for I
was obliged to get Goodford, Abraham, and my tutor
to sign it), said, " I will sign it most willingly," and
then kept on stroking my hand, and said, " I con-
gratulate you most heartily, and am very glad of it."
I am the only one who is sent up ; which is a good
1839.] Illumination for the Queens Wedding 23
thing for me, as it will give me forty or fifty good
marks in trials. I am so splitting with joy you
cannot think, because now I have given you some
proof that I have been lately sapping and doing
pretty well. Do not think that I am praising my-
self, for I am pretty nearly beside myself, you may
suppose.'
One of his cousins adds on the same sheet, ' I must
tell you it is very difficult to be sent up in the 7ipper
fourth form, and still more so in the middle remove.'
The subject of the Latin verses which obtained this
distinction was a wreath or garland, and there must
have been something remarkable in them, for Mr.
Abraham preserved a copy of them for many years.
There was something in the sweetness and docility of
the boy, and in the expression of his calm, gentle face,
that always greatly interested the masters and made
them rejoice in his success ; and among his comrades
he was a universal favourite. His brother joined
him at Eton during the ensuing year, when the
Queen's wedding afforded the boys another glimpse of
Royal festivity. Their tumultuous loyalty and auda-
city appear in Coley's letter.
' In college ; stretching from Hexter's to Mother
Spier's was a magnificent representation of the Par-
thenon : there were three pillars, and a great thing
like this (a not over successful sketch of a pediment),
with the Eton and Royal arms in the middle, and
" Gratulatur Etona Victoria; et Alberto^ It cost
150/., and there were 5,000 lamps hung on it.
Throughout the whole day we all of us wore large
white bridal favours and white gloves. Towards
evening the clods got on Long Walk Wall, and as
gentle means would not do, we were under the
24 Life of yoJm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ii.
necessity of knocking some over, when the rest soon
jumped off. However, F and myself declared
we would go right into the quadrangle of the Castle,
so we went into the middle of the road and formed
a line. Soon a rocket (the signal that the Queen
was at Slough) was let off, and then some Life-
Guards came galloping along, and one of them ran
almost over me, and actually trod on F 's toe,
which put him into dreadful pain for some time.
Then came the Queen's carriage, and I thought
college would have tumbled down with the row;
The cheering was really tremendous. The whole
550 fellows all at once roared away. The Queen and
Consort nodding and bowing, smiling, &c. Then
F and I made a rush to get up behind the
Queen's carriage, but a dragoon with his horse almost
knocked us over. So we ran by the side as well as
we could, but the crowd was so immensely thick, we
- could not get on as quick as the Queen. We rushed
alone, knocking: clean over all. the clods we could,
and rushing against the rest, and finally F and
myself were the only Eton fellows that got into the
quadrangle. As we got there, the Queen's carriage
was going away. You may fancy that we were
rather hot, running the whole way up to the Castle,
besides the exertion of knocking over the clods and
knocking at doors as we passed ; but I was so
happy.'
Such is bliss at twelve years old !
The first half-year of 1839 had brought Patteson into
the Remove, that large division of the school inter-
mediate bctwe(;n the fourth and fifth forms. The work
was harder, and his diligence somewhat relaxed. In
fact, the Coley of this period and of a good while later
had more lioart for play than work. Cricket, bathing,
1839.] I'*^ i'^^ Remove 25
and boating were his delight ; and though his school
work was conscientiously accomplished, it did not
interest him ; and when he imagined himself to have
been working hard and well, it was a thunderbolt to
him to find, at the end of the half year, that a great deal
more had been expected of him by his tutor. It shows
how candid and sw^eet his nature was, that just as when
he was a little fellow at Ottery, his penitent letter
should contain the rebuke he had received, without re-
sentment against anyone but himself.
' Aunt has just called me down into the drawing-room
and shown me my character. I am stupified at it ; it
is so shocking just when I most wanted a good one on
account of mamma's health. I am ashamed to say
that I can offer not the slightest excuse ; my conduct
on this occasion has been very bad. I expect a
severe reproof from you, and pray do not send me
any money, nor grant me the slightest [favour ?].
Whilst . . ., who has very little ability (uncle says),
is, by plodding on, getting credit, I, who (my tutor
says) have abilities, am wickedly neglecting and
offending both my heavenly and earthly Father by
my bad use of them. Aunt called me into the
drawing-room, and very kindly showed me the exces-
sive foolishness of my conduct ; but from this very
moment I am determined that I will not lose a mo-
ment, and we will see what the next three weeks will
produce.'
Poor little fellow, his language is so strong that it is
almost a surprise to find that he was reproaching him-
self for no more heinous fault than not having worked
up to the full extent of his powers ! He kept his
promise of diligence, and never again incurred ref)roof,
but was sent up for good again in November. His
26 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. II.
career through the school was above the average,
though not attaining to what was expected from his
capabiHties ; but the development of his nature was
slow, and therefore perhaps ultimately the more com-
plete, and as yet study for its own sake did not interest
him : indeed his mind was singularly devoid of pleasure
in classical subjects, though so alert in other directions.
He was growing into the regular tastes of the refined,
fastidious Eton boy ; wrote of the cut of his first tail
coat that ' this is really an important thing ;' and had
grow^n choice in the adorning of his room and the bind-
ing of his books, though he never let these tastes bring
him into debt or extravagance. His turn for art and
music began to show themselves, and the anthems at
St. George's Chapel on the Sunday afternoons gave him
great delight, and in Eton Chapel, a contemporary says,
' I well remember how he used to sine the Psalms with
the little turns at the end of the verses, which I envied
his being able to do.' Nor was this mere love of music,
but devotion. Coley had daily regular readings of the
Bible in his room with his brother, cousins, and a friend
or two ; but the boys were so shy about it that they
kept an open Shakespeare on the table with an open
drawer below, in which the Bible was placed, and
which was shut at the sound of a hand on the door.
Hitherto No. 33 Bedford Square had been the only
home of the Patteson family. The long vacations
were spent sometimes with the Judge's relations in the
Eastern counties, som(;times with Lady Patteson's in the
West. Sandwith Rectory, in Cornwall, was the home
of her eldest brother. Dr. James Coleridge, whose
daughter Sophia was always like an elder sister to her
children ; and the Vicarage; of St. Mary Church, then a
wild, jjeautiful seaside village, though now almost a
suljurb of Torquay, was held by her cousin, George May
1S41.] Fenitoji Court 27
Coleridge, and here the brothers and sisters cHmbed
the rocks, boated, fished, and ran exquisitely wild in the
summer holidays.
Colonel Coleridge had died in 1836, his widow in
her daughter's house in 1838, and Heath's Court had
become the property of Mr. Justice Coleridge, who
always came thither with his family as soon as the
circuit was over. In 1841, Feniton Court, about two
miles and a half from thence, was purchased by
Judge Patteson, much to the delight of his children.
It was a roomy, cheerful, pleasantly situated house,
with apiece of water in the grounds, the right of shoot-
ing over a couple of farms, and all that could render
boy life happy, besides being in the midst of near rela-
tions, since (besides those already mentioned) a house
had been built at Salveston, near at hand, by Dr. William
Coleridge, first Bishop of Barbadoes and first Warden
of St. Augustine's,^ and Edwin Coleridge, another
cousin, held the neighbouring living of Buckerell.
Feniton was a thorough home, and already Coley's
vision was ' When I am vicar of Feniton, which I look
forward to, but with a very distant hope, I should of
all things like Fanny to keep house for me till I am
married ;' and again when relating some joke with his
cousins about the law papers of the Squire of Feniton
he adds : ' But the Squire of Feniton will be a
clergyman.'
Whether this were jest or earnest, this year, 1841,
brought the dawn of his future life. It was in that
year that the Rev. George Augustus Selwyn was
appointed to the diocese of New Zealand. Mrs.
Selwyn's parents had always been intimate with the
Patteson family, and the curacy which Mr. Selwyn had
^ Son of Dr. Luke Coleridge, one of the thirteen children of John, the
schoolmaster.
2 8 Life of John Coleridge Patfeson [ch. II.
held up to this time was at Windsor, so that the old
Etonian tie of brotherhood was drawn closer by daily
intercourse. Indeed it was from the first understood that
Eton, with the wealth that her children enjoyed in such
large measure, should furnish ' nerves and sinews' to the
war which her son was about to wage with the darkness
of heathenism, thus turning the minds of the boys to
something beyond either their studies or their sports.
On October 31, the Rev. Samuel Wilberforce,
then Archdeacon of Surrey, and since Bishop of
Oxford and of Winchester, preached in the morning at
New Windsor parish church, and the newly made
Bishop of New Zealand in the afternoon. Coley was
far more affected than he then had power to express.
He says, ' I heard Archdeacon Wilberforce in the morn-
ing, and the Bishop in the evening, though I was forced
to stand all the time. It was beautiful when he talked
of his going out to found a church and then to die
neglected and forgotten. All the people burst out
crying, he was so very much beloved by his parishioners.
He spoke of his perils, and putting his trust in God ;
and then, when he had finished, I think I never heard
anything like the sensation, a kind of feeling that if it
had not been on so sacred a spot, all would have ex-
claimed " God bless him ! " '
The text of this memorable sermon was ' Thine
heart shall be enlarged, because the abundance of the
sea shall be converted unto thee, the forces also of the
Gentiles shall come unto thee.' (Is. Ix. 5.) Many
years later we shall find a reference to this, the watch-
word of the young hearer's life.
The Archdeacon's sermon was from John xvii.
20, 21 : — ' Neither pray I for theses alone, but for them
also which shall believe on Me tJirough their word ; that
they all may be One, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I
1 84 1 .] FareivelL of Bishop Selwyn 2 9
in Thee, that they also may be One in Us ; that the
world may believe that Thou hast sent Me.' And here
again we find one of the watchwords of Coley's life, for
nothing- so dwelt with him and so sustained him as the
sense of unity, whether with these at home in England,
or with those in the inner home of the Saints. When the
sermon concluded with the words ' As we are giving of
our best, as our Church is giving of her best, in sending
forth from her own bosom these her cherished and
chosen sons, so let there go forth from every one of us
a consenting offering ; let us give this day largely, in a
spirit of self-sacrifice, as Christian men, to Christ our
Lord, and he will graciously accept and bless the
offerings that we make.' The preacher could little
guess that among the lads who stood in the aisle was
one in whom was forming the purpose of offering his
very self also.
For at that time Coleridge Patteson was receiving
impressions that became the seed of his future purpose,
and the eyes of his spirit were seeing greater things
than the Vicarage of Feniton, Indeed the subject was
not entirely new to him, for Edward Coleridge was
always deeply interested in missions, and had done his
best to spread the like feeling, often employing the
willing services of his pupils in copying letters from
Australia, Newfoundland, &c.
When the Bishop of New Zealand came to take
leave, he said half in earnest, half in playfulness,
' Lady Patteson, will you give me Coley ? ' She
started, but did not say no ; and when, independ-
ently of this, her son told her that it was his greatest
wish to go with the Bishop, she replied that if he kept
that wish when he grew up he should have her
blessing and consent.
But there was no further mention of the subject.
30 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. 1 1.
The sisters knew what had passed, but it was not
spoken of to his father till long after, when the wish
had become purpose. Meantime the boy's natural
development put these visions into the background.
He was going on with ordinary work and play,
enjoying the pageantry of the christening of the Prince
of Wales, and cheering himself hoarse and half frantic
when the King of Prussia came to see the school ; then
on his father's birthday writing with a ' hand quite
trembling with delight' to announce what he knew
would be the most welcome of birthday presents,
namely, the news that he had been ' sent up ' for a
very good copy of seventy-nine verses, ' all longs, on
Napoleon e S cy t Ida prof ttgiLS, passage of Beresina, and
so forth.' His Latin verses were his strong point,
and from this time forward he was frequently sent up,
in all twenty-five times, an almost unprecedented
number.
In fact he was entering on a fresh 'stage of life, from
the little boy to the lad, and the period was marked
by his Confirmation on May 26th, 1842. Here is his
account both of it and of his first Communion. The
soberness and old-fashioned simplicity of expression
are worth remarking as tokens of the quietly dutiful
tone of mind, full of reverence and sincere desire to
do right, and resting in the consciousness of that
desire, while steadily advancing towards higher things
than he then understood. It was a life and character
where advancement with each fresh imparting of
spiritual grace can be traced more easily than usual.
It is observable too that the boy's own earnestness
and seriousness of mind seem to have to him supplied
the apparent lack of external aids to devotional feeling,
thougli tlie Coiifirmalion was conducted in the brief,
formal, wholesale manner which some in after life have
184.2.] Conjirmaliou 31
confessed to have been a disappointment and a draw-
back after their preparation and anticipation.
* You will know that I have been confirmed to-day,
and I dare say you all thought of me. The ceremony
was performed by the Bishop of Lincoln, and I hope
that I have truly considered the great duty and
responsibility I have taken upon myself, and have
prayed for strength to support me in the execution
of all those duties. I shall of course receive the
Sacrament the first time I have an opportunity, and
I trust worthily. I think there must have been
200 confirmed. The Bishop gave us a very good
charge afterwards, recommending us all to take
pattern by the self-denial and true devotion of the
Bishop of New Zealand, on whom he spoke for a
long while. The whole ceremony was performed
with the greatest decorum, and in the retiring and
coming up of the different sets there was very little
noise, and not the slightest confusion, I went up
with the first set, and the Bishop came round and
put his hands on the heads of the whole set (about
forty), and then going into the middle pronounced
the prayer. The responses were all made very
audibly, and every one seemed to be impressed with
a proper feeling of the holiness and seriousness of
the ceremony. After all the boys had been confirmed
about seven other people were confirmed, of whom
two were quite as much as thirty, I should think.'
June 5.
* I have just returned from receiving the Holy Sacra-
ment in Chapel. I received it from Hawtrey and
Okes, but there were three other ministers besides.
There was a large attendance, seventy or eighty or
32 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. il.
more Eton boys alone. I used the little book^ that
mamma sent me, and found the little directions and
observations very useful. I do truly hope and
believe that I received it worthily ... It struck
me more than ever (although I had often read it
before) as being such a particularly impressive and
beautiful service. I never saw anything conducted
with greater decorum. Not a single fellow spoke
except at the responses, which were well and audibly
made, and really every fellow seemed to be really
impressed with the awfulness of the ceremony, and
the great wickedness of not piously receiving it. I
do not know whether there will be another Sacra-
ment here before the holidays, or whether I shall
receive it with you at Feniton next time.'
No doubt the whole family (except the yet uncon-
firmed younger brother) did so receive it in the
summer holidays, the last that were to be spent in the
full joy of an unbroken household circle, and, as has
been already said, one of unusual warmth and kindli-
ness, binding closely into it all who were connected
therewith. Each governess became a dear friend ;
the servants were deeply attached, and for the most
part fixtures ; and one, the nurse already mentioned,
says she never recollects a time when Master Coley
had to leave Feniton for London without his offering
the servants to take charire of their messages or
parcels. All dependants and poor people, in fact
whatever came under Judge Patteson's genial, broad-
hearted influence, were treated with the like kindness,
and everything alive about" the place seemed full of
haj)piness and affection.
The centre of this Ijright home had always been
' I'p. Wilson.
1842.] Death of Lady Pattesoji '\,'}y
the mother, fervently loved by all who came in contact
with her, fragile in health, and only going through her
duties and exertions so cheerily by the quiet fortitude
of a brave woman. In the course of this year, 1842,
some severe spasmodic attacks made her family
anxious, and as the railway communication was still
incomplete, so that the journey to London was a great
fatigue to an invalid, her desire to spend Christmas
in Devonshire led to her remaininij there with her
daughters, when her husband returned to London on
the commencement of term.
He had been gone little more than a fortnight when,
on November 17th, a more severe attack came on,
and though she was soon relieved from it, she never
entirely rallied, and was firmly convinced that this
was ' the beginning of the end.' Her husband was
summoned home. Judge Coleridge taking a double
portion of his work to set him at liberty, and the truth
began to dawn on the poor boys at Eton. ' Do you
really mean that there is anything so very, very
dreadful to fear ? ' is Coley's cry in his note one day,
and the next, * Oh Papa, you cannot mean that we
may never, unless we come down to Feniton, see
mamma again. I cannot bear the thought of it. I
trust most earnestly that it is not the case. Do not
hide anything from me, it would make me more
wretched afterwards. If it shall (which I trust in His
infinite mercy it will not) please Almighty God to take
our dearest mamma unto Himself, may He give us
grace to bear with fortitude and resolution the dreadful
loss, and may we learn to live with such holiness here
that we may hereafter be united for ever in Heaven.'
This letter is marked twice over ' Only for Papa,' but
the precaution was needless, for Lady Patteson was
accustoming all those about her to speak, freely and
I. D
34 Life of John Coleridge Patteso7t [Ch. il.
naturally of what she felt to be approaching. Her
eldest brother, Dr. Coleridge, was greatly comforting
her by his ministrations, and her sons were sent for ;
but as she did not ask for them, it was thought best
that they should remain at their uncle Frank's, at
Ottery, until, on the evening of Sunday the 27th, a
great change took place, making it evident that the end
was drawing near.
The sufferer was told that the boys were come, and
was asked if she would see them. She was delighted,
and they came in, restraining their grief while she
kissed and blessed them, and then, throwing her arms
round their father, thanked him for having brought her
darling boys for her to see once more. It was not long
before she became unconscious, and though all the
family were watching and praying round her, she
showed no further sign of recognition, as she gradually
and tranquilly fell asleep in the course of the night.
Here is a letter from Dr. Coleridge,, written immedi-
ately after her death : —
' I have been in the ministry thirty years, and have
interested myself peculiarly in scenes of sickness and
death, and have had of course in large parishes no
slight experience in the same ; but I never ivitnessed,
taking all circumstances into consideration, such a
scene as I have since I came here on Wednesday the
23rd. Truly I came to see a Christian die : to learn, not
to teach, to gather such sources for enduring medita-
tion, and improvement of heart and life, as, if they
minister not to the building up of my faith and the
spiritual house of God within my soul, must dread-
fully aggravate my condemnation. We have had a
precious privileges While I write, I feel it to be so,
(may I always practically feel it ! ) l^ut we have all had
a most awful responsibility imposed on us too, (may
we never forget it ! ) For my dear sweet sister, blessed
1842.] The Funeral 35
saint of God ! there must be a desire for thee and
thy pious example as long as we live ! But neither
can he whom she chiefly loved with her dear children,
nor we of her sorrowing family, when we go, and
see where they have laid her, sorrow as without
hope, for of her may it be said indeed, with all
the point of personal application : Sorrow not,
brethren, for them that are asleep, even as others
which have no hope, for if we believe that Jesus died
and rose again, even so them that sleep in Jesus will
God bring with Him.'
It was to this uncle's eldest daughter, now Mrs.
Martyn, that Coley wrote the following letter just after
the funeral : —
' We only came down from our rooms to go to church,
and directly the beautiful service was over, we went
upstairs again. I need not tell you what we then
felt, and do now feel. It is a very dreadful loss to
us all ; but we have been taught by that dear mother,
who has been now taken from us, that it is not fit to
grieve for those who die in the Lord, " for they rest
from their labours." She is now, we may safely
trust, a blessed saint in Heaven, far removed from
all cares and anxieties ; and, instead of spending our
time in useless tears and wicked repinings, we should
rather learn to imitate her example and virtues, that,
when we die, we may sleep in Him as our hope is
this our sister doth, and may be finally united with
her in heaven. Yesterday was a day of great trial to
us all ; I felt when I was standing by the grave as if
I must have burst.
' Dear Papa bears up beautifully, and is a pattern
of submission to us all. We are much more happy
than you could suppose, for, thank God, we are
D 2
2,6 Life of Jolm ColeiHdge Patteson [Ch. ii.
certain she is happy, far happier than she could be on
earth. She said once " I wonder I wish to leave my
dearest John and the children, and this sweet place,
bttt yet I do wish it',' so lively was her faith and trust
in the merits of her Saviour.'
A deep and permanent impression was left upon the
boy's mind, as will be seen by his frequenf references
to what he had then witnessed ; but for the present he
was thought to be less depressed than the others, and
recovered his natural tone of spirits sooner than his
brother and sisters. The whole family spent their mourn-
ful Christmas at Thorverton Rectory, with Dr. and
Mrs. Coleridge and their daughter Fanny, their chief
comforters and fellow sufferers ; and then returned to
London. The Judge's eldest daughter, Joanna, who
had always been entirely one with the rest, had to take
her place at the head of the household. In her own
words, ' It was trying for a lad of fifteen and a half, but
he was very good, and allowed me to take the com-
mand in a way that few boys would have done.'
It has struck me as remarkable that friends and rela-
tions have again and again spoken of different incidents
as * turning points ' in Coley's life. If he had literally
turned at them all, his would have been a most revolv-
ing career; but I believe the fact to have been that he
never Ucrned at all, for his face was always set the
right way, but that each of these was a point of impulse
setting him more vigorously on his way, and stirring up
his faithful will. Such moments were those of admis-
sion to religious ordinances, to him no dead letters but
true receptions of grace ; and he likewise found incite-
ments in sorrows, in failures, in reproofs, Everythino-
sank deeply, and his mind was already assuming the
introspective character that it had throughout the period
of growth and formation. One of his Eton companions,
1 843-] Going Up for the Newcastle 37
four years young-er, has since spoken of the remarkable
impression oi imvardness Patteson made on him even at
this time, saying that whenever he was taken by surprise
he seemed to be inly ruminating till he spoke or was
spoken to, and then there was an instant return to the
outer world and ready attention to whatever was in hand.
The spring found him of course in the full tide of
Eton interests. The sixth and upper fifth forms, to the
latter of which he had by this time attained, may con-
tend in the public examination for the Newcastle
scholarship, just before the Easter holidays, and it is a
great testimony to a boy's ability and industry if his
name appears among the nine select for their excellence.
This time, 1843, Coley, who was scarcely sixteen, had
of course but little chance, but he had the pleasure of
announcing that his great friend, Edmund Bastard, a
young Devonshire squire, w^as among the ' select,' and
he says of himself : ' You will, as I said before, feel satis-
fied that I did my best, but it was an unlucky examina-
tion for me. It has done me a great deal of good in
one way. It has enabled me to see where I am par-
ticularly deficient, viz. general knowledge of history, and
a thorough acquaintance with Greek and Roman customs,
law courts and expressions, and Greek and Roman
writers. I do not find myself wanting in making out a
stiff bit of Greek or Latin if I have time, but I must read
History chiefly this year, and then I hope to be selected
next time. My tutor is not at all disappointed in me.'
This spring, 1843, Patteson became one of the Eleven,
a perilously engrossing position for one who, though
never slurring nor neglecting his studies, did not enjoy
anything so much as the cricket-field. However, there
the weight of his character, backed by his popularity
and proficiency in all games and exercises, began to be
a telling influence.
38 Life of yoJui Coleridge Patteso?i [Ch. ll.
On November 2, 1843, when the anniversary of his
mother's death was coming round, he writes to his
eldest sister : —
' I had not indeed forgotten this time twelvemonth,
and especially that awful Sunday night when we
stood round dear mamma's bed in such misery, I
never supposed at that time that we could ever be
happy and merry again, but yet it has been so with
me, and though very often the recollection of that
night has come upon me, and the whole scene in its
misery has passed before me, I hope I have never
forgotten, that though a loss to us, it was a gain to her,
and we ought rather to be thankful than sorrowful.
. . . By the bye, I do not really want a book-case
much, and you gave me the " Irish Stories," and I
have not yet been sent up. I would rather not
have a present, unless the Doctor means to give me
an exercise. Do not lay this down to pride ; but you
know I was not sent up last half, and if this passes,
a blank again, I do not deserve any fresh presents.'
This piece of self-discipline was crowned by joyous
notices of being ' sent up for good ' and * for play ' in
the next half; when also occurs a letter showing a
spirit of submission to a restriction not fully under-
stood : —
Tuesday evening.
' My dearest Father, — Hearing that " Israel in Egypt "
was to be performed at Exeter Hall on Friday
night, I went and asked my tutor whether he had
any objection to my running up that night to hear it,
and coming back the next morning, quite early at
six. My tutor said that, witliout any absurd feelings
on the matter, he sliould not think himself of going
to such a thing in Lent. " It was not," he said, " cer-
tiiinly like going to the play, or any of those sort of
1844.] ^-^^ Debating Society 39
places," but he did not like the idea of going at all.
Do you think that there was any harm in the wish ?
I do not ask because I wish you to write and say I
may go, but because I wish to learn whether my
asking at all was wrong. Even if you have no
objection, I certainly shall not go, because for such
a trifling thing to act in opposition to my tutor, even
with your consent, would be very foolish.
. . . Good-bye, my dearest Father. God bless
you, says your affectionate and dutiful Son,
J. C. P.'
This year, 1844, the name of Patteson appeared
among the ' select' ' I shall expect a jolly holidays
for my reward,' he merrily says, when announcing it to
his sisters. He had begun to join the Debating
Society at Eton, and for a while was the president.
One of the other members says, ' his speeches were
singularly free from the bombast and incongruous
matter with which Eton orators from fifteen to eiofhteen
are apt to interlard their declamations. He spoke
concisely, always to the point, and with great fluency
and readiness. A reputation for good sense and
judgment made his authority of great weight in the
school, and his independent spirit led him to choose
amongst his most intimate friends and associates, two
collegers, who ultimately became Newcastle scholars
and medallists.
' That the most popular oppidan of his day should
have utterly ignored the supposed inferiority of the
less wealthy section of the school, and looked on worth
and high character as none the worse for being clothed
in a coarse serge gown, is a fact seemingly trivial to
ordinary readers, but very noticeable to Eton men.
As a rank and file collegian myself, and well remem-
40 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. il.
bering the Jew and Samaritan state that prevailed be-
tween oppidans and collegers, I remember with pride
that Patteson did so much to level the distinctions
that worked so mischievously to the school. His
cheerfulness and goodness were the surest guarantee
for good order amongst his school-fellows. There was
no Puritanism in him, he was up to any fun, sung his
song at a cricket or foot-ball dinner as joyfully as the
youngest of the party, but if mirth sank into coarse-
ness and ribaldry, that instant Patteson's conduct was
fearless and uncompromising.' . . .
Here follows an account of an incident which oc-
curred at the dinner annually given by the eleven of
cricket and the eight of the boats at the hotel at
Slough.
A custom had arisen among some of the boys of
singing offensive songs on these occasions, and Coley,
who as second of the eleven, stood in the position of
one of the entertainers, gave notice beforehand that he
was not going to tolerate anything of the sort. One
of the boys, however, began to sing something ob-
jectionable. Coley called out, ' If that does not stop, I
shall leave the room,' and as no notice was taken, he
actually went away with a few other brave lads. He
afterwards found that, as he said, * fellows who could
not understand such feelings thought him affected,'
and he felt himself obliged to send word to the Cap-
tain, that unless an apology was made, he should leave
the eleven— no small sacrifice, considerinQf what cricket
was to him ; but the gentlemanlike and proper feeling
of the better style of boys prevailed, and the eleven
knew their^own interests too well to part with him, so
the apology was made, and he retained his position.
The affair came to the knowledge of two of the
masters, Mr. I)iipuis and Mr. Abraham; and they
1844.] '^^^(^ Cricket Field 41
gratified their warm sense of approbation by giving
Patteson a bat, though he never knew the reason why,
as we shall see in one of his last letters to one of the
donors.
His prowess at cricket must be described in the
words of his cousin, Arthur Duke Coleridge, who was
at this time in college. ' He was by common consent
one of the best, if not the best, of the cricketers of
the school. The second year of his appearance at
Lord's Cricket Ground was the most memorable as
far as his actual services were concerned, of all the
matches he played against Harrow and Winchester.
He was sent in first in the Harrow match ; the bowl-
ing was steady and straight, but Patteson's defence
was admirable. He scored fifty runs, in which there
was but one four, and by steady play completely
broke the neck of the bowling. Eton won the
match easily, Patteson making a brilliant catch at
point, when the last Harrow man retired. Full of
confidence, Eton began the Winchester match.
Victory for a long time seemed a certainty for Eton,
but Ridding, the Winchester captain, played an
uphill game so fiercely that the bowling had to be
repeatedly changed. Our eleven were disorganised,
and the Captain had so plainly lost heart, that
Patteson resolved on uro;inor him to discontinue his
change of bowling, and begin afresh with the regular
bowlers. The Captain allowed Patteson to have
his way, and the game, though closely contested,
was saved.' His powers of defence were indeed
remarkable. I saw the famous professional cricketer
Lillywhite play once at Eton in his time, and becom-
ing almost irritated at the stubbornness and tenacity
with which Coley held his wicket. After scoring
twenty and odd times in the first, and forty in the
42 Life of yohu Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. II.
second innings, (not out), Lillywhite said, ' Mr.
Patteson, I should like to bowl to you on Lord's
ground, and it would be different.' ' Oh, of course,'
modestly answered Coley ; ' I know you would have
me out directly there.'
The next cricket season this champion was disabled
by a severe sprain of the wrist, needing leeches, splints,
and London advice. It was when fixing a day for
coming up to town on this account, that he mentioned
the occurrence of the previous year in a letter to his
father.
' I have a great object in shirking the oppidan dinner.
I not only hate the idea of paying a sovereign
for a dinner, but last year, at the cricket dinner, I
had a great row, which I might possibly incur
another time, and I wish very much to avoid.'
Then, after briefly stating what had passed, he adds :
* At this dinner, where the captain of the boats
manages it, I should be his guest, and therefore, any
similar act of mine would make matters worse.
You can- therefore see why I wish Tuesday to be
the day for my coming up.'
The sprain prevented his playing in the matches at
Lord's that summer, though he was well enough to be
reckoned on as a substitute in case any of the actual
players had been disabled. Possibly his accident was
good for his studies, for this was a year of much pro-
gress and success ; and though only seventeen, he had
two offers of tutorship for the holidays, from Mr. Dug-
dale and the Marchioness of 15ath. The question
where his university life was to be spent began to
come forward. Studentships at Christchurch were
then in the gift f)f the Canons, and a nomination would
have been given him by Dr. Puscy if he had not been
1844.] ^/^^ DiLkc of Wellington 43
too young to begin to reside, so that it was thought
better that he should wait and go up for the BaUiol
scholarship in the autumn. Here is a note to his
father before the summer holidays, with a view to the
question whether he should carry a gun : —
' As to what you say about my having a licence this
year, I think that it would be mioch better for you to
settle about it, as you did a year or two ago. Then
you seemed to think tha't it was a bad thing for me to
acquire a passion for a pursuit which I should give up
when ordained. To that I certainly keep, viz., that
I would by no means keep it up after I had taken
my degree. But I think I could decide better when
I talk it over with you, besides, (which I had almost
forgot) the Balliol scholarship comes on in Novem-
ber, and taking out the licence would rather put a
stop to my sapping. My thoughts were, you see,
running on cricket.'
No one remembers how the question was then
decided. Coley did shoot, and enjoyed it much ; but
before very long he ceased to carry a gun, though he
often accompanied his father and brother, and took
keen delight in their success. In the October of 1844,
he describes to his eldest sister the reception of King
Louis Philippe at Eton, accompanied by the Queen,
Prince Albert, and the Duke of Wellington.
* The King wore a white great coat, and looked a regular
jolly old fellow. He has white frizzled hair and large
white whiskers. The former, I suspect, is a wig.
The cheering was tremendous, but behind the
royal carriage, the cheers were always redoubled
where the old Duke, the especial favourite hero,
rode. When they got off their horses in the school-
yard, the Duke being by some mistake behindhand.
44 Life of Jo hn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ii.
was regularly hustled in the crowd, with no attend-
ant near him.
* I was the first to perceive him, and springing
forward, pushed back the fellows on each side, who
did not know whom they were tumbling against, and,
taking off my hat, cheered with might and main. The
crowd hearing the cheer, turned round, and then there
was the most olorious siofht I ever saw. The whole
school encircled the Duke, who stood entirely alone in
the middle for a minute or two, and I rathe?'- think we
did c\\&er him. At last, giving about one touch to his
hat, he began to move on, saying ' Get on, boys, get on.'
I never saw such enthusiasm here; the masters rushed
into the crowd round him, waving their caps, and
shouting like any of us. As for myself, I was half mad
and roared myself hoarse in about five minutes. The
King and Prince kept their hats off the whole time,
incessantly bowing, and the King speaking. He
walked arm-in-arm with the Queen, who looked well
and very much pleased. The Duke walked with that
Grand Duchess whose name you may see in the
papers, for I can't spell it.'
Very characteristic this both of Eton's enthusiasm
for the hero, and of the hero's undemonstrative way
of receiving it, which must have somewhat surprised
his foreign companions.
A week or two later, in November 1844, came the
competition for the Pjalliol scholarship, but Coley was
not successful. On the Saturday he writes : —
' The scholarship was decided last night ; Smith, a
Rugby man, got the first, and Grant, a Harrow man,
the second. ... I saw tlie Master afterwards, he
said, " I cannot congratulate you on success, Mr.
Patteson, but you have done yourself great credit,
and passed a very respectable examination. I shall
1845.] Failure 45
be happy to allow you to enter without a future
examination, as we are all quite satisfied of your
competency." He said that I had better come up to
matriculate next term, but should not have another
examination. We were in about nine hours a day,
three hours in the evening ; I thought the papers
very hard, we had no Latin elegiacs or lyrics, which
was rather a bore for the Eton lot. I am very glad
I have been up noiv, but I confess it was the longest
week I ever recollect. I feel quite seedy after a
whole week without exercise. . . The very first
paper, the Latin Essay (for which we were in six
hours) was the worst of all my papers, and must
have given the examiners an unfavourable impres-
sion to start with. The rest of my papers, with the
exception of the Greek prose and the critical paper,
I did very fairly, I think.'
A greater disappointment than this was, however, in
store for Coley. He failed in attaining a place among
the ' select,' at his last examination for the Newcastle, in
the spring of 1845. Before the list was given out, he
had written to his father that the Divinity papers were
far too easy, with no opportunity for a pretty good
scholar to show his knowledge, ' the ridicule of every
one of the masters,' but the other papers very difficult.
* Altogether,' he adds, ' the scholarship has been to me
unsatisfactory. I had worked hard at Greek prose,
had translated and retranslated a good deal of Xeno-
phon, Plato, and some Demosthenes, yet to my
disappointment we had no paper of Greek prose, a
thing that I believe never occurred before, and which
is generally believed to test a boy's knowledge well.
My Iambics were good, I expect, though not without
two bad faults. In fact, I cannot look back ui:)on a
46 Life of JoJuL Coleridge Patteson [ch. ii.
single paper, except my Latin prose, without a multi-
tude of oversights and faults presenting themselves
to me. . . I almost dread the Sfivine out of the select.
Think if my name was not there. It is some con-
solation that Hawtrey, yesterday, in giving me an
exercise for good, asked how I liked the examination.
Upon my saying ' It was not such a one as I ex-
pected, and that I had done badly,' he said * That is
not at all what I hear,' but this cannot go for much.
... I want exercise very badly, and my head is very
thick and stupid, as I fear this last paper must show
the examiners.'
The omission of Patteson's name from among the
select was a great mortification, not only to himself, but
his father, though the Judge kindly wrote : —
* Do not distress yourself about this unfortunate failure
as to the Newcastle, We cannot always command
our best exertions when we want to do so, and you
were not able on this occasion to bring forward all
you knew. It was not from idleness or want of atten-
tion to school business. Work on regularly, and you
will do well at Oxford. I have a line from your
tutor, who seems to think that it was in Juvenal, Cicero,
and Livy, and in Iambics, that the faults principally
were. I cannot say that I am not disappointed, but I
know so well the uncertainty of examinations and
how much depends on the sort of papers put, and on
the spirits and feeling one is in, that I am never sur-
prised at such results, and I do not blame you at all.'
Those who knew Coley best agree in thinking that
this reverse took great effect in rousing his energies.
This failure evidently made him take himself to task,
for ill the sunnner he writes to his father : —
' There an: tilings which have occured during my stay
at iU(jn whicli cannot but make me blame myself.
1845.] Lcavijig Eton 47
I mean principally a want of continuous industry. I
have perhaps for one half or two (for instance, last
Easter half) worked hard, but I have not been con-
tinuously improving", and adding knowledge to know-
ledge, half by half. I feel it now, because I am sure
that I know very little more than I did at Easter.
One thing I am improved in, which is writing themes ;
and you will be pleased to know that Hawtrey has
again given me the School Theme prize, worth 5/.
which counts for another sent up exercise.'
Referring to some discontents with his tutor's
management of his pupils, which had been expressed
by some of the parents, he gives this generous and
grateful testimony : —
' My tutor's system of private business — -viz., giving
you sometimes papers to answer in writing, and at
other times recommending books and papers of his
own to be read, is so calculated to act according to
the pupils' individual application and industry, that
while it more advances the diligent, it presses more
lightly on the idle, that no blame can be attached to
him for an individual failure in any one instance.
' I speak more warmly now, because, thinking
over my past life here, I see that if I had worked out
all the plans my tutor has given me, worked up all his
papers, and cared more about my school business and
attention to little things, I should have had less cause
to leave Eton with feelings partly (though I thank
God not wholly) of self-condemnation. I owe so
much to my tutor, and feel so grateful to him, that I
cannot help saying this.'
In reply, the Judge, on July 22, wrote in the midst
of the circuit, from Stafford, a letter that might well do
a son's heart o-ood : —
48 Life of Jolm Coleridge Pattcsou [Ch. 1 1.
* I rejoice in your finale, and shall be glad to see the
exercise. You have gone through Eton with great
credit and reputation as a scholar, and what is of
more consequence, with perfect character as to truth
and conduct in every way. This can only be ac-
counted for by the assistance of the good Spirit of
God first stirred up in you by the instructions of
your dear mother, than whom a more excellent human
being never existed. I pray God that this assistance
may continue through life, and keep you always in
the same good course.'
A few days more and the boy's departure from the
enthusiastically loved school had taken place, to-
gether with his final exploits as captain in the
cricket-field, where too he formed an acquaintance
with Mr. C. S. Roundell, the captain of the Harrow
eleven, which ripened into a lifelong friendship.
' You may suppose,' writes Coley, ' that I was really very
miserable at leaving Eton. I did not, I assure you,
without thanking God for the many advantages I have
there enjoyed and praying for His forgiveness for my
sin in neglecting so many. We began our match with
Harrow yesterday, by going in first ; we got 261 runs
by tremendous hitting, Harrow 32, and followed up
and got 55 : Eton thus winning in one innings by 176
runs, the most decided beating ever known at cricket.
So ended Coleridge Patteson's school life, not reach-
ing to all he saw that it might have been ; but unstained,
noble, happy, honourable, and full of excellent training
for the future man. No sting was left to poison the fair
memory of youth ; but many a friendship had been
formed on foundations of esteem, sympathy and kind-
ness wliicli endured llirough life, standing all tests of
separation and difference.
49
CHAPTER III.
VNDERGRADUATE LIFE AT BALLIOL AND JOURNEYS
ON THE CONTINENT
1845-1852
University life is apt to exert a strong influence upon
a man's career. It comes at the age at which there is
probably the most susceptibility to new impressions.
The physical growth is over, and the almost exclusive
craving for exercise and sport is lessening ; there is
more voluntary inclination to intellectual application,
and the mind begins to get fair play. There is also a
certain liberty of choice as to the course to be taken
and the persons who shall become guides, and this
renders the pupillage a more willing and congenial
connection than that of the schoolboy ; nor is there so
wide a distance in age and habits between tutor and
pupil as between master and scholar.
Thus it is that there are few more influential persons
in the country than leading University men, for the im-
press they leave is on the flower of English youth, at
the very time of life when thought has come, but action
is not yet required. At the same time the whole
genius loci, the venerable buildings with their tradi-
tions, the eminence secured by intellect and industry,
the pride that is taken in the past and its great men,
first as belonging to the University and next to the in-
dividual college, all give the members thereof a sense
I. E
50 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. lii.
of a dignity to keep up and of honour to maintain, and
a certainty of appreciation and fellow feeling from the
society with which they are connected.
The Oxford of Patteson's day was as yet untouched
by the hand of reformation. The Colleges were follow-
ing or eluding the statutes of their founders, according
to the use that had sprung up, but there had been a
great quickening into activity of intellect, and the reli-
ofious influences were almost at their strongfest. It was
true that the master mind had been lost to the Church
of England, but the men whom he and his companions
had helped to form were the leaders among the tutors,
and the youths who were growing up under them were
forming plans of life, which many have nobly carried
out, of unselfish duty and devotion in their several
stations.
Balliol had, under the mastership of Dr. Jenkyns,
attained pre-eminence for success in the schools, and
for the high standard required of its members, who
formed ' the most delightful society, the very focus of
the most stimulating life of the University,' within
those unpretending walls, not yet revivified and en-
larged.
Here Coleridge Patteson came to reside in the
Michaelmas term of 1845 ; beginning with another
attempt for the scholarship, in which he was again un-
successful, being bracketed immediately after the fourth
with another Etonian, namely, Mr. Hornby, the future
head-master. His friend, Edmund Bastard, several of
his relations, and numerous friends had preceded him ;
and he wrote to his sister Fanny : —
' You cannot tliink wliat a nice set of acquaintance I
am gradually slipping into. Palmer and myself take
regular fain i liar walks ; and Riddell, another fellow
who is the pet of the College, came up the other
1845.] First Term at Balliol 5^
evening and sat with me, and I breakfast with them,
and dine, &c. The only inconvenience attaching
itself to such a number of men is, that I have to
give several parties, and as I meant to get them over
before Lent, I have been coming out rather strong
in that line lately, as the pastrycook's bill for desserts
will show in good time.
' I have been asked to play cricket in the Univer-
sity eleven, and have declined, though not without a
little struggle, but cricket here, especially to play in
such matches as against Cambridge, &c., entails
almost necessarily idleness and expense.'
The struggle was hardly a little one to a youth
whose fame in the cricket field stood so high, and who
was never happy or healthy without strong bodily
exercise. Nor had he outgrown his taste for this
particular sport. Professor Edwin Palmer (alluded to
above) describes him as at this time ' a thorough public
schoolboy, with a full capacity for enjoying under-
graduate society and undergraduate amusements,
though with so fond a recollection of Eton that to some
of us he hardly seemed to appreciate Oxford sufh-
ciently.'
Again, Mr. Roundell (his late adversary at Lord's),
says, ' He was a reluctant and half interested sojourner,
was ever looking back to the playing fields of Eton, or
forward to the more congenial sphere of a country
parish.' So that it was his prime pleasure and glory
that he thus denied himself, though not with total ab-
stinence, for he played occasionally. I remember hear-
ing of a match at Ottery, where he was one of an
eleven of Coleridge kith and kin against the rest of
Devon. His reputation in the field was such that,
many years later, when he chanced to be at Melbourne
E 2
52 Life of yohti Coleridge Patteson. [Ch. hi.
at the same time with the champion EngHsh eleven,
one of the most noted professional cricketers, meeting
him in the street, addressed him confidentially, ' I
know, sir, the Bishop of Melbourne does not approve
of cricket for clergymen in public, but if you would
meet me in private at live o'clock to-morrow morning,
and let me give you a few balls, it would be a great
satisfaction ! '
Some resolution thus was required to prevent
cricket from becoming a tyrant as so often befalls those
whose skill renders them valuable. Tennis became
Coley's chief recreation, enabling him to work off his
superfluous energy at the expense of far less time than
cricket matches require, and in this, as in everything
active, he soon excelled.
As to the desserts upon which the young men in turn
were spending a good deal out of mere custom, harm-
lessly enough, but unnecessarily ; as soon as the distress
of the potato famine in Ireland became known, Patteson
said, ' I am not at all for giving up these pleasant
meetings, but why not give up the dessert ? ' So the
agreement was made that the cost should for the
present be made over to the ' Irish fund.'
Another friend of this period now well known as
Principal Shairp of St. Andrews', was then in the last
year of a five years' residence. He has been kind
enough to favour me with the following effective sketch
of Coley as an undergraduate : —
' Patteson, as he was at Oxford, comes back to me, as
the n-prcscntative of the very best kind of Etonian,
with miicli good that he had got from Eton, with
something better, not to be got at Eton or any other
school. He had those pleasant manners and that
perfect case in dealing with men and with the world
which are the inheritance of I'.ton, without the least
1846.] Dr. Piiscys Scr7non on Absohition 53
tincture of worldliness. I remember well the look
he then had, his countenance massive for one so
young-, with good sense and good feeling, in fact, full
of character. For it was character more than special
ability which marked him out from others and made
him, wherever he was, whether in cricket in which
he excelled, or in graver things, a centre round which
others gathered. The impression he left on me was
of quiet gentle strength and entire purity, a heart
that loved all things true and honest and pure, and
that would always be found on the side of these.
We did not know, probably he did not know him-
self, the fire of devotion that lay within him, but that
was soon to kindle and make him what he after-
wards became.'
In truth he was taking deep interest in the religious
movement, though in the quiet unexcited way of those
to whom such doctrines were only the filling out of the
teachings of their childhood. He was present at that
sermon on ' The Entire Absolution of the Penitent,'
with which, on the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany,
1846, Dr. Pusey broke his enforced silence of three
years. And surely to one who had in his infancy per-
ceived that to hear the Absolution should be happi-
ness, there was everything congenial in such words as
these : —
' If any here feel the burden of past sin, some single
heavier sin as a load upon his conscience, or some
enduring evil habit, or a subtle ensnaring offence,
again and again rising up against him and mastering
him, or some hateful spell of past evil doing, which
seems to leave his soul in darkness, and paralyse
him as to all still more holy devoted purposes, it
may be a blessed knowledge that others, like him,
54 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ill.
were once bound, and now have by God been
loosed ; they, like him, were once burdened, and
now their lightened hearts mount up in love and
thankfulness ; they were once slaves of sin, now are
the freedmen of God ; they once strove ineffectually,
struggling for a while, yet ever in the end dragged
captive, now they strive victoriously in the Peace,
and Light, and Love of God.'
The same evening Coley wrote to his sister Fanny :
' I have just returned from University sermon, where I
have been listening with great delight to Pusey's
sermon on the Keys for nearly two hours. His
immense benevolence beams through the extreme
power of his arguments, and the great research of
his enquiry into all the primitive writings is a most
extraordinary matter, and as for the humility and
prayerful spirit in which it was composed, you
fancied he must have been on his knees the whole
time he was writing it. I went early to Christ
Church, where it was preached, and, after pushing
through such a crowd as usually blocks up the
entrance into Exeter Hall, I found on getting into
the Cathedral that every seat was occupied. How-
ever, standing to hear such a man was no great
exertion, and I never was so interested before. It
will probably be printed, so that you will have no
occasion for any remarks of mine. It is sufficient
that he preached the doctrine to my mind in an
invincil:)le manner.' The letter has a postscript —
' l^^aster vacation will be from three weeks to a
month. Hurrah! say I ; now a precious deal more
glad am I to leave Oxford for tlie holidays than
ICton, tliougli I'^cnilon is better than cither.'
Before that vacation came, a great sorrow, in the
death of the Reverend Thomas Waddon Martyn, the
1846.] Death of Rev. T. W. Martyn 55
husband of his cousin, Sophia Coleridge. Hers had
been the first wedding in that generation of cousins,
and had excited proportionate interest and pleasure,
and her little daughter Paulina had already become his
darling and delight, though still a mere baby.
Here is his reply to Dr. Coleridge's announcement
of the death, which had taken place in his house : —
My dear Uncle, — I was not prepared for the sad news
which your letter announced to me this morning. I
have been lately many times on the point of writing
to dear Sophy, but I was afraid lest anything I
should say should inadvertently cause her pain.
Now, however, especially as Joanna has mentioned
it to me, I could not restrain myself from letting
dear Sophy know how my heart is with her and with
you all. It was a very difficult thing for me to write
such a letter as might express my sorrow for her
without aggravating that which I wished, as far as I
was able, to alleviate ; but if dear Sophy can derive
the slightest consolation or least feeling of pleasure
from my writing, I will most willingly try to show
her that I only desire an opportunity of testifying
my love for her. Her sorrows have indeed begun
early, and to most people such a weight of affliction
would be all but insupportable ; but God's grace will
be sufficient for her, and He will give her strength
to bear her great affliction. I send dear little Pena
a book, which you must please give her with my
best love. What an invaluable treasure the dear child
must be now to dear Sophy ; and I pray earnestly,
and do not doubt, that she will prove a blessing
worthy of all her mother's undivided care and
affection.
I am so hard worked here, that in the midst of all
the grief and trouble that I feel, I cannot abstract
56 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. ill.
myself entirely from my college business, which is now
very tedious to me, and which I w^ould willingly
avoid for a few days ; yet pray be assured that what
work I must carry on, I perform with far different
feelings, and that I am thinking of poor dearest
Sophy and you all every minute. I am glad to
hear that dearest aunt and Fanny are, for them,
pretty well ! And you, my dear uncle, must not
forget yourself, whose illness just now would so
much increase the sorrow of all about you, but for
their sakes be careful of yourself, and believe me,
Your very affectionate Nephew,
John Coleridge Patteson.
P.S. I fear that I have not been successful in my
choice of a book for Pena, yet after all, my chief
object is to please dear Sophy through her child.
I do not think they will meddle with Dr. Pusey. I
heard the sermon and cannot conceive what they
can lay hold of.
So deep was Coley's feeling that he refused all invi-
tations for the rest of the term. Mrs. Martyn took up
her residence permanently in her father's house, now
Thorverton Rectory, near Exeter, and the constant
intercourse and strong mutual influence of the cousins
remained unbroken, and increased with years.
In the autumn of this year, his father lost a sister,
and the effect of reading his letter was to elicit from
Coley the following sentence in writing to his sister :
How glad I shall be to be able by and by to do
anything which would make him see that it was for
his sake that I was working, and to make him happy
in that. And I do think I have a little overcome
my dislike to my books, but it is up-hill work with
me still. . . .
1846.] Joy in GiHef 57
My thoughts are turned constantly to Ipswich, but I
don't know whether you feel it so ; to a good person
the notion of death has never seemed to me terrible
after what we witnessed five years ago. It strikes
one's heart with such intense reality immediately
that the soul of our beloved is in peace, that unless
the loss of the bodily presence is felt every day and
hour, to those absent, the thinking of her death
passes directly into thinking of her new life in
the Lord. I don't say that in the actual house of
mourning such feelings would be even natural, but
I feel that when next I am at Ipswich and miss that
dear face, the sense of our loss will be swallowed up
in the belief of her happiness ; and so it is quite
possible, and if possible, right to feel a degree of
joy, not such as to make us mix as usual in society,
but a quiet thoughtful joy in the very moment of
sorrow. But for dear Granny, and Aunt Lue, and
the poor children, they cannot think so yet. Their
heavy feeling of grief is dead to every other feeling :
I pity them from my heart. I hope the accounts of
you, my dear Fan, will mend.
Your very affectionate Brother,
J. C. P.
The letters of the close of the year 1846 are full of
delight at the honours of his friend Edmund Bastard,
who took a double first class, as is notified in large
capitals on the top of the exulting note. ' I feel quite
proud of being so very intimate with a " Double,"
and the old fellow is just as modest and quiet as ever.'
At the same time James Patteson passed his matricu-
lation examination, and the two brothers were thus
again together.
Even in the last undergraduate year, the preference
58 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. III.
for Eton remained as strong as ever. Coley intended
to remain at Oxford to read for honours through great
part of the Long vacation ; and after refreshing himself
with a run to Eton, he wrote : —
' Now for a very disagreeable contrast, but still I shall
find great interest in my work as I go on, and read-
ing books for the second or third time is light work
compared to the first stodge at them. I am, how-
ever, behindhand with my work, in spite of not
having wasted much time here. ... I really don't
see my way through the mass of work before me,
and half repent having to go up for class.
... I went to the opera on Tuesday, but was too
much taken up by Eton to rave about it, though
Grisi's singing and acting were out and out; but, in
sober earnest, I think if one was to look out simply
for one's own selfish pleasure in this world, staying
at Eton in the summer is paradise. I certainly
have not been more happy, if so happy, for years,
and they need no convincing there of my doting
attachment to the place. I go down to Eton on
Election Saturday and Sunday for my last enjoy-
ment of it this year ; but if I am well and flourishing
in the summer of 1849, and all goes right with me,
it is one of the jolliest prospects of my emancipation
from the schools to think of a month at Eton. Oh !
its hard work reading for it, I can tell you.'
Thus Coley Patteson's work throughout his under-
graduate three years was, so to speak, against the
grain, tliough it was more diligent and determined than
it had been at Eton. He viewed this as the least
satisfactory ])criod of his life, and probal)ly it was that
in wliicli I1C was doin^;" tlic most violence to his likings.
It struck tliose wlio liad known him at Eton that he
1S48,] rhe Long Vacation at Oxford 59
had ' shaken oft' the easy going, comfortable, half slug-
gish habit of mind ' attributed to him there, and to be
earnestly preparing for the future work of life. His
continued interest in Missions was shown by his assist-
ing to collect subscriptions for the Society for the
Propagation of the Gospel, In fact, his charm of
manner, and his way of taking for granted that people
meant to do what they ought, made him a good collec-
tor, and he had had a good deal of practice at Eton in
keeping up the boys to the subscription for the stained
glass of the east window of the Chapel which they had
undertaken to give.
That Long vacation of study was a great effort, and
he felt it tedious and irksome, all the more from a
weakness that affected his eyelids, and, though it did
not injure his sight, often rendered reading and writing
painful. Slight ailments concurred with other troubles
and vexations to depress his spirits ; and besides these
outward matters, he seems to have had a sense of not
coming up to his ideal. His standard was pitched
higher than that of most men : his nature was prone to
introspection, and his constitutional inertness rendered
it so difficult for him to live up to his own views, that
he was continually dissatisfied with himself ; and this, in
spite of his sweet unselfish temper, gave his manner at
home an irritability, and among strangers a reserve — the
very reverse of the joyous merry nature which used to
delight in balls, parties and gaieties.
Though an ardent friend, he became disinclined to
enter into general society ; nor was the distaste ever
entirely overcome, though he never failed to please by
the charm alike of natural manner and of Christian
courtesy ; the same spirit of gentleness and kindness
very soon prevailed in subduing, even in family life, any
6o Life of yohn Colei-idge PaiicsGU [Ch. III.
manifestation of the tender points of a growing cha-
racter.
In the autumn of 1849, he obtained a second class in
the school of Litercs Jmmmiiores, a place that fairly-
represented his abilities as compared with those of
others. When the compulsory period of study was at
an end, his affection for Oxford and enjoyment of all
that it afforded increased considerably, though he never
seems to have loved the University quite as well as
Eton.
As he intended to take Holy Orders, he did not
give up his residence there ; but his first use of his
leisure was to take a journey on the Continent with his
brother and Mr. Hornby. It was then, that as he
afterwards wrote, his real education began, partly from
the opening of his mind by the wonders of nature and
art, and partly from the development of his genius for
philology. Aptitude for language had already shown
itself when his sister Fanny had given him some
German lessons ; and even on his first halt at Cologne,
he received the compliment, ' Sie sprechen Deutsch
wohl,' and he found himself talking to a German on one
side and a Frenchman on the other.
His letters throucfhout his foreio^n travels are more
copious than ever, but are chiefly minute descriptions
of what he saw, such as would weary the reader who
does not want a guide book even full of individuality.
Yet they cannot be passed by without noticing how
he fulfilled the duty of study and endeavour at apprecia-
tion which everyone owes to great works of art, instead
of turning aside with shallow conceit if he do not enter
into them at first sight.
At Cologne, after going over the Cathedral on the
evening of his arrival, Ik; let his two companions go on
to Bonn that same night, while he waited till the morn-
i85o.]
Milan Cathedral 6i
ing, rose at half-past five, saw it again more thoroughly,
and was exceedingly delighted, though Regensburg
impressed him even more from its completeness.
After the wonders of Vienna and the mines of
Salzburg, the mountain scenery of the Tyrol was an
unspeakable pleasure, which tries to express itself in
many closely written pages. Crossing into Italy by
the Stelvio Pass, a sharp but passing fit of illness
detained Coley at Como for a day, and caused him to
call in an Italian doctor, who treated him on the starva-
tion system, administered no medicines, and would take
no fee. The next day Coley was in condition to go
on to Milan, where his first impression of the Cathedral
was, as so often happens, almost of bewilderment. He
did not at first like the Lombardo-Gothic style, but he
studied it carefully, and filled his letter with measure-
ments and numbers, though confessing that no part
pleased him so much as the pinnacles terminating in
statues, ' each one a very beautiful martyr's memorial.'
Two more visits of several hours, however, brought the
untutored eye to a sense of the harmony of proportion,
and the surpassing beauty of the carvings and sculp-
ture.
It did not need so much study to enjoy Leonardo da
Vinci's great fresco, of which he wrote long and elabo-
rately, and, altogether, Milan afforded him very great
delight and was a new world to him. It was the farthest
limit of his travels on this occasion. The party returned
by way of Geneva ; and Coley, alone with four guides,
attempted the Col du Geant. The following is his ac-
count of the danger in which he found himself : —
' On Monday at 4.15 a.m. we started from the Montan-
vert, with our alpenstocks, plenty of ropes, and a
hatchet to cut steps in the ice. We walked quickly
over the Mer de Glace, and in about three hours
62 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. in.
came to the difficult part. I had no conception of
what it would be. We had to ascend perpendicular
walls of ice, 30, 40, 50 feet high, by little holes which
we cut with the hatchet, and to climb over places
not a foot broad, with enormous crevasses on each
side. I was determined not to give in, and said not
a word, but I thought that no one had a right to
expose himself to such danger if known beforehand.
After about three hours spent in this way, (during
which I made but one slip, when I slid about twelve
feet down a crevasse, but providentially did not lose
my head, and saved myself by catching at a broken
ridge of ice, rising up in the crevasse, round which I
threw my leg and worked my way up it astride), got
to the region of snow, and here the danger was of
falling into hidden crevasses. We all five fastened
ourselves to one another with ropes. I went in the
middle, Couttet in front, then Payot. Most unluckily
the weather began to cloud over, and soon a sharp
hailstorm began, with every indication of a fog. We
went very cautiously over the snow for about three
hours, sinking every now and then up to our middles,
but only once in a crevasse, when Couttet suddenly
fell, singing out ' Tirez ! tirez P but he was pulled out
instantly. We had now reached the top, but the fog
was so dense that I could scarcely see 30 feet before
me, and the crevasses and mountains of snow looming
close round us looked awful. At this moment the
guides asked me if I vncst make the passage. I said
instantly that I wanted to do so, but that I would
sooner return at once than endanger the lives of any
of them. Tlic^y told me there was certainly great
danger, they liad lost their way, but were unwilling
to give up. rOr an lioiir and a half we beat about
ill tlic fog, among llie crevasses tr)iiig every way to
1850.] The Col die Gt'auL 6
o
find the pass, which is very narrow, wet to the skin,
and in constant peril ; but we knew that the descent
on the Chamouni side is far more difficult than that
on the Courmayeur side. At last all the guides agreed
that it was impossible to find the way, said the storm
was increasing, and that our only chance was to
return at once. So we did, but the fearful difficulties
of the descent I shall never forget. Even in the
finest weather they reckon it very difficult, but
yesterday we could not see the way, we were numbed
with intense cold, and dispirited from being forced to
return.
' In many places the hail and sleet had washed out
the traces we trusted as guides. After about four
hours, we had passed the most dangerous part, and
in another hour we were safely upon the Mer de Glace,
which we hailed with delight : Couttet, who reached
the point of safety first, jumping on the firm ice and
shouting to me ' // iiy a phis de danger, MonsietLr!
Here we took off the ropes, and drank some more
brandy, and then went as hard as we could, jumping
across crevasses, w^hich two days before I should
have thought awkward, as if they were cart ruts.
We reached Chamouni at '^.'^o p.m., having been
sixteen and a quarter hours without resting. I was
not at all tired ; the guides thanked me for having
given so little trouble, and declared I had gone as
well as themselves. Indeed I was providentially
unusually clear-headed and cool, and it was not till
the danger was over that I felt my nerves give way.
There was a good deal of anxiety about us at
Chamouni, as it was one of the worst days ever seen
here. Hornby had taken all my clothes to Geneva,
so I put on a suit of the landlord's, and had some
tea, and at 1 1 p.m. went to bed, not forgetting, you
64 Life of John Coleridge Pattcso}i [Ch. ill.
may be sure, to thank God most fervently, for this
merciful protection, as on the ice I did many times
with all my heart.
'On reviewing coolly, to-day, the places over which
we passed, and which I shall never forget, I remember
seven such, I trust never again to see a man attempt
to climb. The state of the ice and crevasses is
always shifting, so that the next person who makes
the ascent may find a comparatively easy path. We
had other dangers too, such as this : twice the guides
said to me ' Ne pai'lez pas- ici, Monsieur, et allez
vite,' the fear being of an ice avalanche falling on us,
and we heard the rocks and ice which are detached
by the wet falling all about. The view from the
tof), if the day is fine, is about the most magnificent
in the Alps ; and as in that case I should have des-
cended easily on the other side, the excursion would
not have been so difficult. I hope you will not think
I have been very foolish, I did not at all think it
would be so dangerous, or was it possible to foresee
the bad weather. My curiosity to see some of the
difficulties of an excursion in the Alps is fully
satisfied.'
After this adventure, the party broke up, James
Patteson returning home with Mr. Hornby, while
Colcy, who hoped to obtain a Fellowship at Merton,
and wished in the mean time to learn German thoroughly
in order to study Hebrew by the light of German
scholarship, repaired to Dresden for the purpose ;
revelling, by the way, on the pictures and glass at
Munich, descriptions of which fill three or four letters.
He remained a monlli at Dresden, reading for an hour
a day with a German master, and spending many hours
besides in study, recreating himself with German news-
papers at the cafe where he dined, and going to the
1 85 1.] Italian Jotivjiey 65
play In the evening to hear colloquIaHsms. He lodged
with a burgher family, where his good-natured hostess
took up and read a German letter to his sister, without
the least notion that she was taking a liberty, and used
to invite him to join the family party to the Paradise,
a favourite Sunday resort at a little distance from
Dresden. The picture galleries were his daily enjoy-
ment, and he declared the Madonna di San SIsto fully
equal to his anticipations. ' There Is that about the
head of the Virgin which I believe one sees in no other
picture, a dignity and beauty with a mixture of timidity
quite indescribable.'
Returning home for Christmas, Coley started again
in January 185 1, In charge of a pupil, the son of
Lord John Thynne, with whom he was to go through
Italy. The journey was made by sea from Marseilles
to Naples, where the old rdgivie was still In force.
Shakespeare and Humboldt were seized ; and after
several hours' detention on the score of the suspicious
nature of his literature, Mr. Patteson was asked for a
bribe.
The climate was in itself a great charm to one
always painfully susceptible to cold ; and, after duly
dwelling on the marvels of Vesuvius and Pompeii,
the travellers went on to Rome. There the sculp-
tures were Coley's first delight, and he had the ad-
vantage of hints from Gibson on the theory of his
admiration, such as suited his love of analysis. He
poured forth descriptions of statues and pictures In his
letters : sometimes apologising. — ' You must put up
with a very stupid and unintelligible sermon on art.
The genius loci would move the very stones to
preach on such a theme. Again : The worst, is that
I ought to have months instead of days to see Rome
in. I economise my time pretty well ; but yet I find
I. F
66 Life of Jolm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ill.
every night that I can only do a little of what I pro-
pose in the morning : and as for my Italian, an hour
and a half a day is on an average more than I give
to it. I suffer a good deal from weakness in the
eyes ; it prevents my working at night with comfort.
I have a master every other day. I tried to draw,
but it hurt me so much after looking about all day
that I despair of doing anything, though I don't
abandon the idea altogether.'
The tutor and pupil gave themselves up to the
enjoyment of the Carnival ; and as the rollicking mirth
is becoming a thing of the past, his account of it may
not be unacceptable.
* Thynne B and I went at about half-past three to
the Corso, which is the great street of Rome, a mile
lono", and in which the fun oroes on. We walked
about for a little while, and then took up our station
at a friend's lodgings, six of us, stationed at four win-
dows two pair up. By this time the scene was very
picturesque ; red and white, and classically gold
embroidered cloths being hung from the windows,
the street crowded with French and Italian soldiers,
lazzaroni, innumerable carriages full of English and
others, in holiday costume, soon doomed to be con-
siderably injured, as you shall hear. We had the
honour certainly of commencing the fun, as two of
our party were old stagers, who did not scruple, to
my vast amusement, to go regularly into the spirit
of th<' thing. Accordingly, we bought about three
good sacks full of confetti, little round " Littlejohns,"
but made of chalk, so tliat the whole, divided among
us, cost about one sliilling each. With these we
showered down storms like hailstones upon all the
best dressed people, and in about five minutes our
i8si.] The Carnival at Rome 67
friends in the opposite balcony began too, and then
it soon became general, and you never saw such a
scene, carriages moving slowly under an avalanche
of sham or real confetti, occasionally a bag of flour
descending with a flop on a red velvet bonnet,
thousands of bouquets flying about, men in carriages
fighting (at a great disadvantage) with men in bal-
conies, ladies chucking sugar-plums into the faces of
people on foot ; such shouting, laughing, and rattling
of the confetti on parasols and bonnets you never
dreamt of B and I occupied one window, and
were rather conspicuous, as we had a shovel with
which, when the row became fast and furious, we
poured regularly showers of these chalk pellets on
the people. One carriage was so awfully pelted by
us that the people stopped, got out, and ran for
shelter. The stones underneath our windows were
quite whitened, and the carriages (all covered with
canvas over the seats), looked as if they had just
passed a good fall of snow. We generally reserved
our ammunition for our friends and for black dresses,
on which the chalk told delightfully. I daresay it
sounds very childish ; but if you had seen everybody
employed in the same way, and everything taken in
good part, as the great thing is to make as much of
the licence allowed as possible, you would have
enjoyed it too. At about half-past five, after a
great deal of trouble, the street (not the trottoir)
was cleared for the race. Sand had been thrown all
along the stones ; and presently the horses passed,
going like wild things without riders, as you know,
and ornamented with feathers, and balls with little
spikes to goad them, and streamers. Then the
whole thing was over, and we Vv^ent off^ to dine.
Yesterday was said to be stupid, as the first day
F 2
68 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ill.
generally is, but I know I laughed till my sides
regularly ached, and got quite hot with shying chalk
pellets.'
Ash Wednesday brought, of course, a very different
letter, suggested by witnessing the ceremony of the
Pope's blessing and springling the ashes in the Sistine
Chapel. Pius IX. is spoken of as having 'a mild,
benevolent, unintellectual face, the exact mirror of his
character. The ashes were consecrated, and the
Pope's mitre and little white skull cap being re-
moved, the chief Cardinal Penitentiary sprinkled
ashes on his head in the shape of the Cross ; the
mitre and cap were replaced, and the cardinals in
order, prelates, priests, and anybody that liked, were
sprinkled by the Pope, with these words in Latin,
" Remember, dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou
return." I don't think the words of the whole were
intelligible, and it failed to impress me with any
sense of solemnity at all. Every good feeling and
thought is so materialised in the Romish Church
that it becomes vulgar, and engrosses the imagina-
tion, but not the heart.'
Such is the tenor of all the letters on the religious
state of Rome. The apparently direct supplications
to the Saints, the stories told in sermons of desperate
sinners saved through some lingering observance paid
to the Blessed Virgin, and the alleged abuse of the
Confessional shocked Patteson greatly, and therewith
he connected the flagrant evils of the political condition
of Rome at that time, and arrived at conclusions strongly
adverse to Roman Catholicism as such, though he re-
tained .uninjured the Catholic tone of his mind.
Before leaving Rome, he made one of a party who
werci to be presented to the Pope, including a gentle-
1 85 1.] Presentation to the Pope 69
man and lady, both converts, and the daughter of the
latter, as he says, ' not ditto ' : —
' As we entered a long, oblong room, he was standing
quite alone, in a white dress. The two Romanists
knelt instantly, and I bowed very low, then we
bowed again half way up the room, and then I
bowed again, knelt, and kissed his hand. He
grasped mine tight. This done, we stood in a line
in front of him. Talbot introduced me as the
son of the first English Judge, and he made a re-
mark which I just answered with two or three
words, and that was all he said. To he was
quite affectionate, putting his hand on his shoulder,
and calling him tnio. Then he turned abruptly to
Miss , and said, "What is your name?" She
either did not hear or did not understand Italian, or
was frightened, for she did not speak the whole
time, but her mother answered " Francesca Maria."
"My child, you bear the name of Sta. Francesca
Romana e delta Vergine Santissima. Pray, my
daughter, and imitate their holy lives, pray earnestly
to God to lead you to the truth. Your mother will
pray for you, I will pray for you that you may be
brought to the truth." All this, and much more,
spoken in a simple, benevolent, yet authoritative
manner, produced a great impression on me. There
was no formality, and I quite forgot who he was as
I looked at him earnestly for some minutes at a dis-
tance of not more than two or three feet. I hoped
he would have spoken again to me, but he said
" Adieu," bowed to us, and we retired. I think I
scarcely ever witnessed a more interesting scene.
At first, I was afraid he would dismiss us with only a
common-place remark or two, for he said,. " Do you
all live at the same lodgings ? " and then asked
70 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. hi.
if he spoke Italian, and on his saying " No," observed,
" I only speak a very litde French, so we can't
get on well together; but you understand enough
to know that I give you my benediction," and, then
to my great delight, he began in the serious way I
have mentioned. He is certainly a striking looking
man when seen close, not clever-looking, but very
gentle and benevolent, with a sweet full voice — I
heard him chant capitally in the Sistine.'
It was art which was the special attraction to Coley
of all the many spells of old Rome. He spent much
time in the galleries, and studied ' modern painters '
with an earnestness that makes Ruskinism pervade his
letters.
' I am off again this morning to the Vatican ; it is
hopeless to attempt to see it all, but I know the
capi d' ope7^a and study them. The Dying Gladiator
in the Capitol is, I think, after all the noblest statue
I ever saw ; perfect in proportion, yet without the
unnatural display of muscle that many artists strive
after. ... I have been here introduced for the first
time to some very small pictures of Fra Angelico.
Certainly he expresses more completely than any
painter the fulness of Divine love and beauty. His
own most holy life is reflected in every face he
draws. It is striking, certainly, to me to observe
that the religious painters obtain or fall short of this
power of expressing holy, sacred love and adoration
in proportion as their own moral character and
spiritual life become alienated or debased, and this
is well shadowed forth in the legend of Lionardo da
Vinci painting the Ccnacolo. In this particular ex-
pression, Raijhael is undoubtedly excelled by such
men as Angelico, Francia, and Perugino ; and I am
1 85 1.] Pre-Raffaellite A7't ']\
not sure if the somewhat hard and stiff drawing, and
the symmetrical arrangement of the pictures do not
increase the effect : and I think that the highest style
of religious painting is hardly compatible with the
colouring of a Titian or a Rubens. In choice of sub-
ject and feeling for beauty, both the last-mentioned
painters fall infinitely below the old masters, of
course, and Rubens perhaps belov/ any great
painter (excepting always Rubens at Antwerp,
who is a different man from Rubens elsewhere in
his treatment of sacred subjects). I stand before a
Madonna of Francia's and feel, " How peaceful and
calm, how far removed from earthly passions, how
expressive of holy love, with a shade of the sword
that pierces the heart not being forgotten ; how ex-
quisitely beautiful, not with the beauty of waving
hair and black Italian eyes, but of soft gentle love
absorbed in contemplation of all that is divine and
holy!" Now, I think a picture that can give that
effect — and his good pictures never fail to do so on
me — may be, if you please, poor in colour and stiffly
drawn, but I would not exchange it for the most
gorgeous hues that Titian ever put on canvas.'
At Rome he parted company with his pupil, and
joined an old form-fellow, also travelling with pupils,
and they saw together Assisi and Perugia, and de-
lighted in tracing out the stations of the two armies
of Rome and Carthage at Lake Thrasymene. They
went over the fortress at Spoleto, including the prison,
where they were edified by the sight of Gasparoni, a
great bandit chief, walking about in a blue dress
different from the others, a sort of king among them,
and so grand and resolute looking a fellow that it was
impossible not to feel a certain sense of romance.
72 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. in.
At Florence, Coley wrote as usual at much length
of the galleries, where the Madonna del Cardellino
seems to have been what delighted him most. He
did not greatly enter into Michel Angelo's works, and
perhaps hardly did his religious spirit full justice under
the somewhat exclusive influence of Fra Angelico
and Francia, with the Ruskinese interpretation. The
delight was indescribable. He says : — ' But I have
written again and again on this favourite theme, and I
forget that it is difficult for you to understand what
I write, or the great change that has taken place in
me, without seeing the original works. No one can
see them and be unchanged. I never had such en-
joyment.' His birthday presents were spent on a copy
of the beloved Madonna del Cardellino, which he says :
— ' though it does not reach anything like the intensity
of feeling of the original, is still a very excellent paint-
ing, and will always help to excite in my imagination,
and I hope to convey to you, some faint image of the
exceeding beauty of this most beautiful of all paint-
ings.'
Some outlay on engravings was likewise made, not
without many apologies for drawing upon his father
for a small additional sum. Readers chiefly interested
in the subsequent career of the missionary would feel
interrupted by the overflowing notes on painting,
sculpture and architecture which fill the correspondence,
J yet without them, it is scarcely possible to realise the
young man's intense enthusiasm for the Beautiful,
especially for spiritual beauty, and thus how great was
the sacrifice of going to regions where all these delights
were unknown and unattainable.
He went on to Venice, where he met a letter which
gave a new course t(j his thoughts, for it informed him
that the deafness which had long been growing on his
1851.] The Jndges proposed Retirement 73
father had now become an obstacle to the performance
of his duties as a Judge, and announcing the intention
of retiring.
In the fulness of his heart he wrote : —
Venice, Hotel de la Villa : May 2, 185 1.
My dearest Father, — I have not been in Venice an hour
yet, but little did I expect to find such news waiting
for me as is contained in Jem's letter, and I can lose
no time in answering it. It is indeed a heavy trial
for you, that, in addition to many years of constant
annoyance from your deafness, you should be obliged
now, in the full vigour of your mind, and with the
advantage of your experience, to give up a profession
you so thoroughly delight in. I don't deny that I
have often contemplated the possibility of such a
thing ; and I had some conversation with Uncle John
last winter in consequence of my fancying your deaf-
ness was on the increase, though the girls did not
perceive it ; I hope with all my heart I was wrong.
I told him what I know you feel, that, painful as
it will be to you to retire from the Bench, if any
dissatisfaction was expressed at your not hearing
sufficiently what passed, you would choose rather to
give up your seat than to go on under such circum-
stances. His answer, I remember, was that it was
most difficult to know what to do, because it was no
use concealing the fact that your infirmity did inter-
fere with the working of the Court more or less,
on Circuit especially, and at other times when
witnesses were examined, but that your knowledge
of law was so invaluable that it was difficult to see
how this latter advantage could fail to outweigh the
former defect ; and everybody knew that they can't
find a lawyer to fill your place, though another man
74 Life of yohii Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. ill.
might do the ordinary circuit work with greater
comfort to the Bar ; though therefore nobody is so
painstaking and so little liable to make mistakes, yet
to people in general and in the whole, another man
would seem to do the work nearly as well, and
would do his work, as far as his knowledge and
conscientiousness went, with more ease; — this was
something like the substance of what passed then,
and you may suppose that since that time I have
thought more about the possibility of your retire-
ment ; but as I know how very much you will feel
giving up an occupation in which you take a regular
pride, I do feel very sorry, and wish I was at home
to do anything that could be done now. I know
well enough that you are the last man in the world
to make a display of your feelings, and that you look
upon this as a trial, and bear it as one, just as you
have with such great patience and submission (and
dear Joan too,) always quietly borne your deafness ;
but I am sure you must, and do feel this very much,
and, added to Granny's illness, you must be a sad
party at home. I feel as if it were very selfish to be
in this beautiful city, and to have been spending so
much money at Florence. Neither did Joan, in her
last letter, nor has Jem now, mentioned whether you
received two letters from Florence, the first of which
gave some description of my vetturino journey from
Rome to Florence. I litde thought when I was
enjoying myself so very much there, that all this was
jxissing at liome. . . Your influence in the Privy
C(nincil (wlierc I conclude they will offer you a seat)
might be so good on very important questions, and
it woukl be an occupation for you ; and I have always
hoped that if it should ])lease God, you should retire
while still in the priiiK; of life for work. You would
1 85 1.] Letters on the p7^oposcd Retirement 7 j
publish some great legal book, which should for ever
be a record of your knowledge on these subjects.
However it may be, the retrospect of upwards of
twenty years spent on the Bench with the complete
respect and admiration of all your friends is no slight
thing to fall back upon ; and I trust that this fresh
trial will turn to your good, and even happiness here,
as we may trust with safety it will hereafter.
Ever your very affectionate and dutiful Son,
John Coleridge Patteson.
To his sister he wrote a week later : —
Venice : May 10, 1851.
My dearest Fan, — Like you, my thoughts run almost
exclusively upon the great changes in store for us at
home, and especially I think of course of poor Father,
deprived of his occupation, and it looks gloomy, I
must confess. I hope, however, he will write, and,
above all, not refuse a seat in the Privy Council, just
now questions are arising which make it a matter of
extreme importance to have good sound men sitting
there. Other storms are gathering in the horizon,
and we don't know what work may be in store for
that precious tribunal. Many things certainly point
to discussions likely to ensue about the ' Inspiration
of Scripture ' and other vital points, and even one
voice might help to avert great danger from the
whole Church. I think such considerations ought to
operate and supersede private and personal feelings
on the subject. I don't put this forward as an
argument simply to persuade him to accept a seat,
but I believe many men would receive comfort from
knowing that there was at all events one sound
churchman to plead their cause there. . .
I see that Lord John is making all sorts of malicious
76 Lijc of Johii Coleridge Patteson [Ch. in.
remarks about the Bishop of Exeter's synod •} but I
have no doubt the Bishop has not taken such a step
without good legal advice, and I hope it will be
productive of good. Many people want some dog-
matic positive teaching, something authoritative as
an act of an ecclesiastical body, and would recognise
in it signs of vitality which would be cheering to
them. It is sad indeed to see the late secessions.
The day before yesterday, I saw that respectable in-
dividual King Otho of Greece, here, whose still more
respectable father, the Ex-King of Bavaria, I saw at
Florence, and last night a serenade was given in the
Piazza of St. Mark to the Duke of Hesse, which was
quite delightful. From 8.30 till 10 we walked up
and down the Place, no fear of being run over in
this place, you know. The moon, more than half
full, gave a soft gentle light, and the splendid
Austrian band, with torches numberless, at the oppo-
site end of St. Mark's, was delightful to hear and look
at. The effect of the bright red light at one end of
the square was very striking, and when they played
the Austrian Hymn (which ought to be played in very
slow time,) I felt the musical enthusiasm rising for
almost the first time since I left England. We have
worked very hard here, and seen the churches and
palaces well. John Bellini, the devotional painter of
the Venetian school, with Cima, Vivanni, &c., I have
enjoyed for the first time here ; but above all, I have
been introduced to Tintoretto, of whose magnificent
power it is not possible to speak highly enough. His
daring conception of subjects, and not less his
brilliant execution, mark him as one of the greatest
of all painters, as a French friend said tome, " Qnclle
hardiesse, ten vdritablc Michel Angc f and I think
the comparison (|uite justifiable. Although in some
' I'ishop I'liilpntl's Diocesan Synod of 1S51, \\-\c first of modern times.
1851.] Pictures at Venice TJ
of his works he shows an exquisite grace and tender-
ness, which are terms no one can apply to Michel
Angelo (and so far put Tintoretto above him), and
which are very extraordinary to find in a painter,
combined with grand powerful gifts of intellect,
Ruskin is very good about him ; but nobody can
spend a week in Venice without feeling that a new-
development in art has been given by this great
man. His works in the Scuola di San Rocco, the
Academy, Doge's Palaces and churches, are very
numerous. Titian's " Assumption of the Virgin " is
the most splendid piece of colouring I ever saw, and
the figure of the Virgin most noble, and even y^r a
Titian devotional in character. The golden amber
light in the upper part of the picture, which is perhaps
32 feet high, is, I suppose, perfect in colour,
depth and transparency being displayed in a very
extraordinary degree. I look forward with great
delight to talking with you on these matters, as I feel
quite sure you would appreciate their great beauty,
and would feel as I do that pictures, like music or
poetry, of a high class, speak to the heart and teach
lessons, and convey ideas which are to be accepted
with delight and ofratitude. Kuo-ler's " Handbuch " is
invaluable, not the one Eastlake has published, but
his book on the History of Art : it contains a sketch
of the gradual development (as each master went
onwards) of art, and seldom makes any criticism, but
shows the connection of the whole capitally. As for
the architectural buildings here, they must be seen.
The Grand Canal seems to contain nothing but
palaces, with their quaint Byzantine or Venetian
Gothic windows and balconies. St. Mark's is one
blaze of marble, gold and mosaics, like such buildings
as one dreams of But many of these palaces are
yS Life of Jolni Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. ill.
uninhabited, and exhibit signs of decay. Many are being
scraped and whitewashed. And the utter indifference
of the people now on all questions connected with art
is a painful contrast to the enterprise and spirit of
old days, when Venice must have really looked like
a fairy city rising out of the sea. Thus I saw
Tintoret's Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple,
a very grand work, hung up to dry (the custode's
expression) at an open window on a stormy day, so
that the canvas was fluttering in the wind, while his
St. Agnes, one of the most lovely creations (for as I
said before, in some of his works he shows very
great delicacy and grace), is absolutely rotting on the
walls. Both these pictures are in the Church of La
Madonna dell' Orto ; and properly I scolded the
sacristan, I can tell you ; who answered that the first
picture had got mouldy and damp on the wall, and
so they hung it up to dry ! The grand Last Judg-
ment, and Worship of the Golden Calf, (in which the
figure of Moses in ecstacy, and, as it were, trans-
figured, is quite wonderful) are likely to share the
same fate in the same church. I am afraid I am
very absurdly enthusiastic in all these matters ; but
it increases my own enjoyment in travelling at all
events, though I daresay it rather bores you when
you wade through long accounts of pictures which
can have little or no meaning to you. . .
Ever your loving Brother,
J. CP.
Two letters more from Milan and Zurich close the
history of this journey, which ended in the beginning of
June.
In tlie winter, the death of a young cousin called
f(jilli tl)e following letter :
1 852.] Death of Richard Pattesou 79
Buckerell Vicarage : Jan. i, 1852.
My clearest Fan, — I add a line about Richard's end.
Most peaceful and happy was it, free from pain and
anguish of mind or body ; his last words * I hope so,'
in answer to Kate's * I pray, my darling, we may
meet in heaven,' were scarcely spoken ere he died.
The girls are down, and calm and thankful that it
has pleased God to take him and to grant him so
blessed an end. I was not here, not at all expecting
the end to be so near, and it is as well, for no doubt
I should have been in the way. He looks so calm
and happy now, no trace of pain on his face, his
little white fleshless hands crossed on his breast,
with the last flowers Aunt Frank sent him lying
upon them, a very touching solemn sight.
Ellen's hand was on his forehead, and Kate had both
his hands in hers when he died. All the comfortine
period of the illness returns now, for the last few hours
were very peaceful and bespoke a mind at rest ; and,
if anticipations of future bliss be ever granted to
dying men in the last hours of an innocent well spent
life, his last words ' What a beautiful evening ! ' twice
repeated (it was nearly 8 a.m.), ' Come, come, is there
one for me ? ' suggest many a thought the world
dreams not of.
How much misery he has perhaps been spared. If
he be at rest in the Lord, who would not wish to be like
him ? It has been a great privilege to witness during
the gradual decay of his strength, his patience and
humility ; and I pray that the memory of his early
death, now especially at the beginning of a new year,
when we know not what in God's mercy may be in
store for us, may never be effaced from my mind.
Your loving
J. C. P.
So Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ill.
In this winter of 1852, Mr. Justice Patteson's final
decision to retire was made and acted upon. The
Judge delighted in no occupation so much as the
pursuit of law, and therefore distrusted his own opinion
as to the moment when his infirmity should absolutely
unfit him for sitting in Court. He had begged a friend
to tell him the moment that the impediment became
serious ; and this, with some hesitation, was done.
The intimation was thankfully received, and after due
consideration, carried out. Much reluctance was shown
by his brethren on the Bench in consenting to his
retirement ; and, after the decision was finally made, Sir
Cresswell Cresswell, with considerate kindness, took his
place on the Norfolk Circuit, to spare him the necessity
of sitting alone, so that he remained in London.
On January 29, 1852, after twenty-two years on
the Bench, and at the age of sixty-two, Mr. Justice
Patteson wrote his letter of resignation to Lord
Truro, then Lord Chancellor, petitioning for the usual
pension. It was replied to in terms of warm and sincere
regret ; and on the 2nd of February, Sir John Patteson
was nominated to the Privy Council, as a member
of the Judicial Committee ; where the business was
chiefly conducted in writing, and he could act with com-
paratively little obstacle from his deafness.
On P^ebruary 10, 1852, he took his leave of the
Bar. The Court of Queen's Bench was crowded with
barristers, who rose while the Attorney General, Sir
Alexander Cockburn, made an address expressive of
the universal heartfelt feeling of respect and admi-
ration with which the retiring Judge was regarded.
Sir John Patteson's reply, read with a voice broken
by emotion, is so touching in its manly simplicity and
liunilliL)' lIuiL a paragraph or two may well be quoted : —
'Mine,' he said, 'is on(; of the many instances
1852.] Judge Pat tesous Fareiuell speech 81
which I know that a pubHc man without pre-eminent
abihties, if he will but exert such as it has pleased
God to bestow on him honestly and industriously,
and without ostentation, is sure to receive public
approbation fully commensurate with, and generally
much beyond, his real merits ; and I thank God if I
shall be found not to have fallen entirely short
in the use of those talents which he has entrusted
to me.' Then, after some words on the misfortune
that necessitated his withdrawal, he continued, * I
am aware that on some, and I fear too many,
occasions I have given way to complaints and im-
patient expressions towards the Bar and the witnesses
in Court, as if they were to blame when, in truth, it
was my own deficiency ; and heartily sorry have I
been and am for such want of control over myself.
I have striven against its recurrence earnestly,
though not always successfully. My brethren on
the Bench, and you, and the public, have been very
kind and indulgent to me ; the recollection of which
will remain with, and be a great solace to me for the
rest of my life.
And now, gentlemen, I bid you farewell most
affectionately. I wish you many years of health and
happiness, of success and honour in your liberal pro-
fession ; the duties of which have been and are and
I trust ever will be performed, not only with the
greatest zeal, learning, and ability, but with the
highest honour and integrity, and a deep sense of
responsibility to God and to man, and which being
so performed, are, in my humble judgment, eminently
conducive, under the blessing of God, to maintain
the just prerogative of the Crown, and the true rights,
liberties, and happiness of the people.'
He then rose from the Judges' seat, and bowed his
I. G
82 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. hi.
farewell to the assembly, who stood respectful and
silent, except for some suppressed tokens of emotion,
for in truth to many the parting was from an old
familiar and much trusted friend.
One testimony of feeling which gave him much
pleasure, was an address full of warm gratitude from
the Common Law clerks who had been brought into
contact with him in chambers, and which they ac-
companied with a handsome silver inkstand. Private
letters poured in, expressive of deep regret, esteem,
and affection, and not only were gratefully read at
the time, but became to the family valuable memo-
rials of the heartful appreciation gained by a high-
minded and upright course of life, and evidences that
their father had done that which is perhaps the best
thing that it is permitted to man to do here below,
namely, ' served God in his generation.'
CHAPTER IV.
FELLOWSHIP OF MERTON
1852 — 1854
In the summer of 1852 Coleridge Patteson stood for
a fellowship of Merton, obtained it, and moved into
rooms there. Every college has a distinctive cha-
racter ; and Merton, if not actually the eldest, is at least
one of the oldest foundations at Oxford, and is one of
the most unchanged in outward aspect. There is a
peculiar charm in the beauty and seclusion of the
quadrangle, in the library, still mediaeval even to the
fittings ; and the church is above all impressive in the
extraordinary loveliness of the early decorated archi-
tecture, and the space and loftiness of the choir. The
whole, pre-eminently among the colleges, gives the sense
of having been unaltered for five hundred years, yet
still full of life and vigour.
Coley attached himself to Merton, though he
never looked to permanent residence there. The
Curacy in the immediate neighbourhood of his home
was awaiting him, as soon as he should be ordained ;
but though his purpose was unchanged and he was of
full age for Holy Orders, he wished for another year
of preparation, so as to be able to study both Hebrew
and theology more thoroughly than would be possible
when pastoral labour should have begun. What he
had already seen of Dresden convinced him that he
G 2
84 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. IV.
could there learn Hebrew more thoroughly and more
cheaply than at home, and to this he intended to
devote the Long vacation of 1852, without returning
to Feniton. There the family were settling them-
selves, having given up the house in Bedford Square,
since James Patteson had chambers in King's Bench
Walk, where the ex- Judge could be with him when
needed in London. There had been some notion of
the whole family profiting by Sir John's emancipation
to take a journey on the Continent, and the failure of
the scheme elicited the following letter : —
Merton : June 18.
My dearest Fan, — I can, to a certain extent, sympa-
thise with you thoroughly upon this occasion ; the
mere disappointment at not seeing so many interest-
ing places and things is a sharp one, but in your
instance this is much increased by the real benefit
you hoped to derive from a warmer climate ; and no
wonder that the disappearance of your hopes
coupled with bodily illness makes you low and un-
comfortable. The weather too is trying to mind
and body, and though you try as usual to shake off
the sense of depression which affects you, your letter
is certainly sad, and written like the letter of one in
weak health. Well, we shall see each other, please
God, at Christmas now. That is better than passing
nearly or quite a year away from each other ; and
some other time I hope you will be able to go to
Italy, and enjoy all the wonders there, though a tour
for health's sake cannot be too soon. It is never
too soon to get rid of an ailment. . . .
It is very painful when men treat of such sacred
subjects as Mr. a[)pears to have done. Such
coarse description and the mean introduction of such
1852.] The Monolkelile Question 85
ideas are very offensive to me, I must say, even if
right, which in this case I should think is certainly
not so. The less gentlemanly Roman clergy are
perpetually doing this sort of thing — it creates a sen-
sation among uneducated people, suggests ideas
easy to lay hold of, though not tending to produce
any practical result. I believe your's to be the real
orthodox belief on the subject. There were great
discussions in the seventh century, as no doubt you
know, on the question of our Lord's having one or
two wills, of the nature of the human soul, &c.
These, with other ideas concerning the co-existence
of the Divine and human natures perfect and dis-
tinct, led men to refine upon certain passages in the
Bible, and to speculate extensively upon what is, if
you think steadily, scarcely a conceivable subject for
meditation. I don't feel certain whether any man
ever analysed precisely the process of his own will,
and how can one pretend to ascertain how the line,
so to speak, was drawn and observed in action
between our Lord's Divine and Human Will,
Knowledge, and what we may call Character ? The
real point is, that we are to believe that such Per-
sonal Union of distinct Natures did co-exist. I
never heard Mr. 's account of the Agony in the
Garden, which again involves the whole question I
have been writing about ; because our Lord in His
Divine Foreknowledge knew certainly that He
would die on the Cross, and that His life would be
then and there offered up, so to suppose either that
He prayed to be sustained in life till He had com-
pleted the sacrifice, or to be spared its completion,
equally imply an ignoring, so to say, of His Divine
character, which knew all things and could foresee
that He would both live to die on the Cross, and
86 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. iv.
truly suffer the Cup. In that hour our Lord felt, I
believe, the real weakness of Humanity, it may be,
unaided for the time by any Divine power, the sins
of the whole world crushing Him in misery and
sorrow to the earth, a sense of desolation and deser-
tion inconceivable. And it is remarkable that an
Angel from Heaven should have strengthened Him
as Angels strengthened and cheered Apostles and
Saints, human creatures, for it is not conceivable
that a Divine Being could receive any augmentation
of strength from a created, though holy and blessed
Spirit. It was, therefore, our Lord's humanity that
received the support ; the Divine self-sustaining
power seems to have been withdrawn. You will
find in Olshausen something about it, no doubt. A
clear apprehension of such a fundamental point in
theology is quite necessary ; and this makes it im-
perative upon people who are to be teachers to look
upon such things, though at the risk of using sacred
names too carelessly perhaps, at least, it is hardly
safe to let oneself ai^gue about these as about other
really speculative matters. To fully master the idea
of what is involved in the parallel between Adam
and our Lord, is in fact to master the most practical
doctrine of Christianity. Union with Christ is our
only hope. We must be joined to His Body, which
is the Church ; so far all is clear. But what is to be
the definition of this Church ?
This is the way I hope soon to set really to work
upon theology, reading Church history, &c., to illustrate
tliemain ([uestions, showing what was the opinion of
great thinkers, and the practical expression of forms
of belief in the community at various times. Now,
it would be nonsense to pretend to be reading. I am
every minute iiU(:rrui)led, for Oxford just before
1852,] Second Visit to Dresden 87
Commemoration (especially now, when men are coming
up to take their M.A. before the election), is always
like a place turned upside down.
But I fully agree with you that going on with doc-
trinal reading is a great help to real devotion ; it keeps
the mind enofao;ed and interested with serious solemn
thoughts and hopes. I wish I could speak more
from experience.
I find that I am getting to know the undergraduates
here, which is what I wanted to do ; it is my only
chance of being of any use. True, that I have to do
it at the expense of two half day's cricketing, which
I have quite ceased to care about, but I know that
when I went up to Balliol, I was glad when a Fellow
played with us. It was a guarantee for orderly con-
duct, and as I say it gives me an opportunity of
knowing men. I hope to leave London for Dresden
on Monday week ; Arthur is gone thither, as I find
out from Jem, and I hope the scheme will answer.
If I find I can't work, from my eyes, or anything
else, preventing me, I shall come home, but I have no
reason to expect any such thing. My best love to
Joan and all friends.
Your loving Brother,
J. C. Patteson.
The ' Arthur ' here mentioned was the youngest son
of Mr. Frank Coleridge, and was then studying German
at Dresden, lodging in the Johannisallee, he writes : —
* Patteson spoke German fluently, and wrote German
correctly. He had studied the language assiduously
for about two years previously, and so successfully
that whilst we were at Dresden, he was enabled to
dispense with a teacher and make his assistance
little more than nominal. Occasionally he wTote a
SS Life of yohii Coleridge Patteson [Ch. iv.
German exercise, but rather as an amusement than
a disciphne, and merely with the view of enlarging
his German vocabulary. I remember his writing an
elaborate description of Feniton Court, and im-
agining the place to be surrounded with trees be-
longing to all sorts of climates. The result was
very amusing to ourselves, and added to the writer's
stock of words on particular subjects. When our
master Schier appeared, the conversation was led
by a palpable ambuscade to the topic which had
been made the subject of Patteson's exercise, and
conversation helped to strengthen memory. After
looking over a few of Patteson's German exercises,
Mr. Schier found so little to correct, in the way of
grammatical errors, that these studies w^ere almost
relinquished, and gave way to Arabic and Hebrew.
Before we left Dresden, Patteson had read large
portions of the Koran ; and, with the aid of Hur-
witz's Grammar and Bernhard's Guide to Hebrew
Students, books familiar to Cambridge men, he was
soon able to read the Psalms in the original. I
remember the admiration and despair I felt in wit-
nessing Patteson's progress, and the wonder ex-
pressed by his teacher in his pupil's gift of rapid
acquirement. We had some excellent introductions ;
amongst others, to Dr. , a famous theologian,
with whom Patteson was fond of discussing the
system and organisation of the Church in Saxony.
Up to the time of his leaving England he was con-
stantly using Olshausen's Commentary on the New
Testament, a book he was as thoroughly versed in
as Archbislioj) Trcncli liimsclf 1 think that he
consulted no other books in his study of the Gospels,
but Olshausen and P)engcrs Gnomon.
In our pleasures at Dresden there was a mixture
1852.] Life at Dresden 89
of the zdile with the diilce. Our constant visits to
the theatre were strong incentives to a preparatory-
study of the plays of Goethe, Schiller, and Lessing.
What noble acting we saw in that Dresden theatre !
With regard to the opera, I have never seen
Weber or Meyerbeer's works given so perfectly and
conscientiously as at Dresden. Patteson's chief
delight was the Midsummer Night's Dream with
Mendelssohn's music. He had a tuneful baritone
voice and a correct ear for music. We hired a piano
for our sitting-room ; and, though I failed to induce
him to cultivate his voice, and join me in taking
lessons, he sang some of Mendelssohn's Lieder very
pleasingly, and knew most of the bass music from
the Messiah by heart. He began to play a few
scales on the piano, and hoped to surprise his sisters
on his return to England by playing chants, but the
Arabic and Hebrew studies proved too absorbing ;
he grudged the time, and thought the result dispro-
portioned to the sacrifice.
In our daily walks we talked constantly of Church
matters. Some sharp and sad experiences in the
loss of more than one of his Eton and Oxford friends,
who had abandoned the Church of England, failed
to shake his confidence in the Church he was to
serve so faithfully and to die for so gloriously. His
faith and daily practice seem to me a protest and
warning against the folly, if not the falsehood, of ex-
tremes. Moderation, quiet consistency of life, and
unswerving loyalty to a faith which had been the
joy and comfort of his dear mother, whose loveable
nature he inherited and reflected, a blameless life
and unfailing charity enabled him when the time
came to live a life of incessant toil, and face a
martyr's death. I remember the present Bishop of
90 Life of JO In I Coleridge Patteson [Ch. iv.
Carlisle inciting Cambridge undergraduates to be-
come by virtue of earnestness, gentleness, and tole-
ration, " guides not judges, lights not firebrands."
He drew a perfect description of Patteson, who
came more completely up to that ideal than anyone
I ever knew. Here was a man capable of the
purest and most tender friendship, with an exquisite
appreciation of all that is noblest in life, and he was
ready to give up all, and content to lead the forlorn
hope of Christianity, and perish in the front ranks of
the noble army. " And having been a little tried he
shall be greatly rewarded, for God proved him, and
found him worthy for Himself." '
I have given this letter almost entire, because it shows
the impression Coley made on one, little his junior, in
the intimate associations of cousin, neighbour and
school-fellow, as well as travelling companion.
This year seems to have been a marked stage of
development. He was now twenty-five, and the
boyish distaste for mental exertion which had so long
rendered study an effort of duty, had passed into
full scholarly enjoyment. The individuality and
originality of his mind had begun to awaken, and in-
fluenced probably by the German atmosphere of
thought in which he was working, were giving him that
strong metaphysical bent which characterized his tone
througli life, and became apparent in his sermons when
he addressed an educated audience. Here is a letter
If) Iiis fatliftr, showing the phase through which his mind
was passing : —
5 Johannisstrassc : July 17, 1852.
My dearest Father, — The theatre is a great resource,
and in spite of the weather, I go about twice in the
week. The pit costs a shilling, and pit stalls two.
1852.] German. Theology 91
We work as much as we can ; but it is not easy to
really grind away hard, for even in our rooms,
shady as they are and looking north, in shirt sleeves
and the coolest attire possible, we can hardly keep
cool, but I think we do more than we should else-
where. I read Hebrew every day, and a good deal
of German ; and, as soon as the weather is cooler, I
shall of course do more. Yesterday I went to a
bookseller's to get some German periodicals. Most
of the theologians here publish reviews, &c., in the
shape of our Quarterly and Edinburgh ; and I thought
by reading these I could get some idea of the actual
influence that men like Neander, Olshausen, &c.,
have had upon Germany. This man had none of
these works, but gave me the address of a Lutheran
minister and preacher at the Kreuz Kirche. So
off I went to him, and after half an hour's conversa-
tion, he lent me several periodicals, and has put my
name down in a circulating library of theological
publications, just what I wanted. Every Wednesday
I get a great heap, which I must return on the
following Wednesday, reading of course just as much
or as little as I like, and for two months I pay is.6d.,
wonderfully cheap, isn't it ? This clergyman is a
man of about fifty, and asked me to come and see
him, and walk with him occasionally, which of course
I shall do. All that I want is to get an accurate
idea of the theological state of Germany. People
tell me that infidelity is very much decreasing, partly
owing to the democratical influence which free-
thinkers have exercised, and so have incurred the
displeasure of the governments, and in some cases
been suppressed, but partly because a natural re-
action has begun to work. For instance, Strauss is
said to have very few followers, and scarcely any-
92 Life of yolni Colandge Patteson [ch. iv.
one would openly profess his opinons. The religion
of Saxony is quite dependent on the State, which
appoints a sort of Board of Education, composed
chiefly of clergymen, who provide for the distribution
of the country into dioceses, elect a superintendent
for each diocese, who has to watch narrowly the
clergy under him. None of these are permitted to
preach anything against the recognised doctrines of
the old original Lutheran body. If they do so, they
are at once silenced and deposed. I am told that
many of them do not feel a really strong attachment
to many of the strong Lutheran doctrines, in which
case they neither preach on those subjects at all,
nor suffer themselves to take any positive line with
reference to them. Education is conducted in the
same way, so that all the teachers are bound to teach
the doctrines, e.g., of the Augsburg Confession ; yet
if the teacher himself cannot conscientiously do so,
and prefers to be silent on these points, the super-
intendent may, if he chooses, suspend him to ensure
their being taught. Thus, within the officiating
body no heterodox teaching can go on long where
the superintendent does his duty ; and though great
latitude is allowed the people in the choice of their
particular form of worship, yet they are all ordered
by the State, e.g., to attend church, and the influence
of the clergy is so great that only lately the sale of
certain articles on Sunday has been stopped in con-
sequence of their remonstrances. I should think
the Lutheran body very much more dependent upon
the State in Saxony than the Church of England
is dependent {i.e., in matters of tithes, payment of
Bishops, Deans, &c.) on the State in England. I
hope to learn something about the actual state of
things bef(jrc. long ; at present I have had no oppor-
1852.] Private yiidgment 93
tunity of hearing much about it, and it is hard to me
to talk of such subjects in German. It is not hard
to see that in so far as rehgion is clearly a personal
thing, and that each man is personally responsible
for his opinions and actions, so far private judgment
must have its share in every religious act and
thought. Again, without some dogmatic authorita-
tive teaching, there could be no real standard of the
truth, each man would believe that to be true which
seemed to him to be true, consequently there must
be some authority. Now, if a man will require
positive dogmatic teaching on every subject, absolute
certainty on every point, he seems to me to be anti-
cipating a state of things that he ought not to expect
to find in this world. His very trial consists in re-
gulating his life by prayer and study of God's Word,
by firm faith in all that is revealed, and by following
in sinele acts and in detail what his conscience
dictates to him as right and holy. On the other
hand, unfettered abuse of private judgment leads to
scepticism and infidelity. Ought a man to expect to
be able to define exactly where the province of the
one ends and the other begins ? Or rather, as
in fact we reconcile the difficulties of Free Will
and Necessity, ought we not to be content to reconcile
a positive Authority and Private Judgment ? Both
are, however, to have an existence and exercise an in-
fluence. Everybody feels and knows it, and in practice
all of us tacitly admit it. But whether this is true or
not, it can only affect educated people ; the poor and
uneducated must have positive teaching : and then
what are they to be taught ? Is a man to feel
justified in incurring the responsibility of teaching
them what he individually believes to be right ? Or
do we not want some formal dogmatic teaching,
94 Z//6^ of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. iv.
bearing the sanction of antiquity, and a commission
to empower us to teach ? Now the last is a view
which I don't think my friend will be in a hurry to
accept. He will think it right they should be taught
in accordance with Lutheran principle ; not I suppose
that he can be sure of teaching in accordance with
the spirit and practice of the whole Church, not
because he can claim a Divine mission for so doing,
but because to his reason it is the most satisfactory
way and the most productive of good. But
suppose, a man says, the essence and the form of
Christianity are two distinct things, the form can,
and must suffer change, but the essence remains
ever the same. This is Neander's view ; and it
accounts for everything, if accepted ; and if all
people will agree upon what is essential, e.g., Neander
does not hesitate to say that, at the beginning of the
third century, a false view of the Priesthood was
prevalent in Christendom, and he does not dispute
the fact of Episcopacy being then established, and
of a distinction between priests and laymen ; but this
very fact and this very distinction he pronounces
to be a return to the ancient Judaic Old Testament
state of things, and to have arisen from a misconcep-
tion of the spirit of Christianity. He argues quite
consequently that Episcopacy was the natural form
and organisation of the Christian community in the
first ages, just as in the first stage of society man
must pass through the various stages of despotism,
moderate monarchy, &c., and go down to republi-
canism, so tlie Cluirch at first required an aristocra-
tical form of government, and the numberless
converts and masses of heathen newly introduced to
a knowledge of Christianity, coupled with the general
ignorance of mankind, rendered such an authoritative
power necessary for early diffusing and maintaining
1852.] Episcopacy 95
the truth. By the tune of the Reformatiou people
were fitted to teach themselves ; and the Reformation
was simply the revival of a more primitive form of
Christianity, primitive in this respect, that all the
complicated machinery of Bishops, Priests, &c., with
the whole staff of subordinates, and the whole col-
lective body of deep abstruse theology was put
aside, the Bible was read and interpreted as in the
first times : Christianity had assumed a new form,
while its fundamental doctrines remained the same,
the essence was unchanged.
One illustration brings the matter home, e.g.
Is one to feel Episcopacy to be in such a sense
essential to Christianity, that without it Christianity
would cease to be ? If answered in the affirma-
tive, Neander would (I suppose) have said, " The
simple fact of Episcopacy having universally pre-
vailed in the early Church proves only that it was
the necessary organisation of the Church for thai time
(which is, of course, an assumption needing proof). I
require some evidence that was considered by the
Lord and His Apostles to be a necessary concomitant
of Christianity to the end of time, the necessary
manifestation of Christianity in the world," and he
would of course not suffer you to restrict St. Matt,
xxviii. 20 to episcopacy and priesthood. If answered
negatively, he would say, " Then why do you insist
upon the invalidity of orders conferred by others than
Bishops ?"
Don't think, my dear Father, I am puzzling my
brains on these matters, and imbibing wild notions. I
have written this very fast, with Willy and a friend of
his from Schandau sitting in the room talking, and I
don't feel it at all necessary for me to go into these
matters. I only feel very thankful that I am born in the
96 Life of yoliii Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. IV.
Church of England. No doubt one is right there, without
taking upon one to say that everybody is wrong here.
But, perhaps, I can sketch out to you better in a
letter than in a conversation, something of what I be-
lieve to be the view of a very good learned Lutheran,
who can tell me so much about it ; and I thought
perhaps you had not cared to give your mind to this
subject in particular. I don't see that it wants reading
so much as plain good sense, with a well disciplined
habitually religious character. I feel an interest in
such questions, because I think that they are very
likely to be agitated in England ; perhaps in the
north many of them are agitated now. It is quite
enough for me to know that the early Church and so
great an array of Fathers and Saints expounded our
Lord's words to mean so and so, and view the then
existing organisation of the Church as necessary
essentially for all time ; but I may have to argue with
a man some day who thinks Luther had quite as
good a right to be heard on that point as St. Cyprian.
This is a very different letter from what you ex-
pected, but we have no news to give you. I am very
tolerably well, not quite right, owing perhaps to the
heat. . . You can't think how rich the German papers
are about old Jock, and about the elections. The des-
cription of der kleine yohnuy (Russell) and his dress
as he appeared in London was capital. With kindest
love to Joan and Fan, ever, my dearest Father,
Your affectionate and dutiful Son,
J. C. Patteson.
Sunday, 10.30 A.M.
I\S. I liave r< rid this morning a long review in the
German Ciiurcliman, which is published at Darm-
stadt, on tlie past tliirt}' years, and the prospect of
1852.] Sir John Pattesoiis Ansiver 97
the future events likely to result from the present
theological state of the country. They maintain as
quite certain what I said about the decrease of
infidelity ; say that rationalism is no longer taught in
the universities, and that men who are in heart scep-
tics don't like to call themselves so ; whereas, twenty
or thirty years ago, a man who did not openly avovA^
himself a rationalist was looked upon as a weak
ignorant fellow, that deserved commiseration as a
relic of a departed age.
Happy the son, of growing struggling mind, who
could write such a letter to his father, and receive in
reply such another as follows : —
Feniton Court : August 2, 1852.
My dearest Coley, — We have heat here in plenty,
but not equal to that which you describe at Dresden,
and we have had repeated showers of rain, though
we have hitherto escaped any thunderstorms.
Certainly no heat here is at all equal to what I felt
in London, but then I was in a chamber next to the
sky, which accounts for it. It is delightful to read
your accounts of what you see and are doing. Your
theological letter of July 17, (so to speak) gives me
a notion of Neander, though I know nothing of his
works. I do not see what right he or any man
has to reject positive evidence that our Lord con-
sidered Episcopacy necessary to His Church. It is
plain that our Lord did not Himself draw up a form
of Church government or Church ministry, yet it is to
my mind inconceivable that in His many discourses
with the Apostles they should not have gathered
from Him some notions on such matters, and as to
the manner in which His Church should be continued,
and His blessing accompany it, aye, and His Presence,
T- H
98 Life of fohn Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. iv.
to the end of time ; which notions would be enlarged
and improved and made clear by the Holy Spirit
when granted to them abundantly. The miraculous
powers given by our Lord Himself to the Twelve
and to the Seventy during His own ministry, sepa-
rated them for the time at all events from the general
mass of believers, and indicated that there should be
a ministry of some sort, emanating from Him, and
not either elected by the mass, or self elected and
self assuming ; and it is incredible that this should
have been confined to the first receivers of such
ministry, to whom such power was given as in John
XX. 22, 23, and in the other accounts of the power of
the Keys, &c., fortheymust pay the debt of nature, and
cease to minister, and yet our Lord promises to be
with them to the end of the world, and Himself says,
in that sublime prayer in John xvii. 20 : ' Neither
pray I for these alone, but for them also that shall
believe on Me through their word.' Then what do
the Apostles do after our Lord's Ascension, in
regard to the vacancy by the treason and death of
Judas ? They (the eleven), not the whole body of
believers, elect and ordain Matthias ; afterwards they
separated Paul and Barnabas for the work of Apostle-
ship, and laid their hands on them. Elders were
ordained ; Timothy and Titus were ordained ; and
St. Paul tells the latter in his Epistle to him to
ordain others, and in his Epistles to Timothy and
Titus speaks expressly of orders in the ministry and
of their qualifications. Moreover, Paul, and James,
and Peter, and Jude, all of them speak of false
prophets creeping in unawares, and many other
similar expressions, which show that, no more under
the Christian tlian under the Jewish dispensation,
could it be lawful for men to take the ministry upon
1852.] AtUhority for Episcopacy 99
themselves. If these things were so in the eadiest
ages of the Church, and those nearest to the Apostles
treated the ApostoHcal Succession (or Episcopacy,
which is nearly the same thing) as essential, what
right have moderns, in the conceit of their reason, to
say that it has ceased to be so ? It seems to me to
be conceited development, and nothing more. Has
the Christian religion so purified the world that all
are priests or ministers ? I trow not ! and if not,
who has the power of ordaining ? My belief is, that
the corruptions of the Church of Rome, and the un-
warranted assumption of Infallibility by the Pope,
having brought on the Reformation, and the Continen-
tal reformers having no means, or perhaps neglecting
such means as they had, to procure Episcopal Ordin-
ation, were under a necessity, a supposed necessity of
self ordination, as it were, and reasoned themselves
into a belief that there was no essential which they
could not obtain. Wesley and his immediate followers
went through a somewhat similar process, not,
however, with the same apparent necessity. But I
do not know whether Neander so distinctly holds as
to the necessity of any ministry at all, whether he
considers that anyone may set himself up as a minister
or be so constituted by any, and what number of
persons or congregations, not regarding the sin of
Jeroboam (spite of its being called Judaizing, to say
so), or whether a purely State ministry be considered
right. What you say of Saxony seems as if the
latter notion were prevalent there. I agree that we
in England have reason to be most thankful that we
have a Church with a regular ministry in succession ;
and holding this, as I do, to be essential, I am not
studious to make out how far the Reformed Churches
of the Continent, under these circumstances, are
H 2
loo Life of Jo fill Coleridge Patteson [ch. i\'.
justified in holding otherwise. I do not mean by
this to intimate that you should not inform yourself
fully of their views ; nor am I afraid of any ill effect
on your mind from so doing. Moreover, you will
perceive that I am not learned in these matters, and
wTite only what comes uppermost. As to dogmatic
teaching in a church and private judgment in its
individual members, I quite agree with you that they
are as irreconcileable in theory as ' fixed fate, and
free will, foreknowledge absolute.' They are, how-
ever, practically reconcileable where there is real
charity and humility, not otherwise. Let me hear
more from you on these matters. . .
Your affectionate Papa,
J. p.
The reply follows a few days later, bearing on the
postmark the date, August 12.
My dearest Father, — I can hardly tell you what a real
enjoyment I feel in reading your letter, not that I
did not before feel quite sure that you thought on
these subjects what you have now written, but I had
some fear that I might be misunderstood, for I wrote
hastily, and without knowing my subject. I never
believed, since I thought seriously about the matter,
anything on the question of Apostolic Succession,
different from what you say. I feel sure that is the
plain, humble, faithful way of receiving our Lord's
promises ; and I think that the more I may learn to
realize the truth of the historical facts of the Gospel
narrative, and to feel that really and in truth the
effect of sucli and such promises is now exhibiting
itself in the world, a real though unseen instrument
of more good than we are apt to think of, the more
I shall become satisfied that the whole question is
1852.] Expedience of Controversy. 10 1
one which does not admit of being tested by the
ordinary exercise of the reason, and that subtle dis-
tinction about the essence and the form of Chris-
tianity is better left untouched. I don't know that
it is possible when once a man's curiosity and desire
for information is aroused to stifle it by a mere act
of the will, but if I was not going to be a clergyman,
I would try not to think much on the subject.
Now, however, I feel that I may very likely be called
upon to give my opinion on this, as on other questions
upon which a clergyman may reasonably be expected
to be able to give some answer, not indeed probably
at Alfington, but in some other and larger places, if
I live long enough to change my quarters. It is a
very great satisfaction to know that you do not think
any, much less a positive view with regard to the
position of the Lutherans, e.g., necessarily involved
in such a discussion. Many cases occur where the
ordinary means of grace are unavoidably lost, {e.g.,
the sudden death of an unbaptized infant), in which
cases we do well to throw ourselves upon the un-
covenanted mercies of God ; but yet there always
remains more of uncertainty than in cases where all
human conditions have been fulfilled. That the
lethargy of the Church in England was in many
ways the cause of the defections from it remains
undeniably a reproach and a stain upon it. In the
same way it is impossible to avoid assigning to the
worldliness and corruptions of Rome, some share of
the sin of provoking (so to speak) new and un-
lawful manifestations of Christian doctrine. But
beyond all this, one sees that all mankind in all ages
have resolved themselves into two great classes, viz.,
a, those whose disposition and nature it is to be
independent of others ; and )3, those who require
I02 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. iv.
support and assistance, whose natural timidity
renders them anxious to seek reHef from the burden
of responsibiHty in obedience to some principle of
authority which they recognise as sufficient to guide
them. We have the great distinction between the
character of man and woman, and something of the
same sort seems to me to come into account for the
various conduct of different classes of men. Under
all conditions of government, climate, and religion,
there have been from time to time manifestations
of this. I suppose even in China and Turkey the
strictest fatalism may crush, to a certain extent,
man's natural feeling, but I don't think it can exclude
a doubt from finding its way into a man's heart, for
in that it is not true, it does not satisfy the human
mind, it cannot correspond to those faculties whose
r^(2/ satisfaction and legitimate development cannot
fall short of the Christian standard. If one may
then suppose that at all times a spirit of free enquiry
has existed, in however small degree, alongside of
a quiet spirit of submission and obedience, of
willingness to accept what has already been accep-
ted, so soon as this long accepted authoritative
teaching has become manifestly corrupted, the
spirit of enquiry not in itself, but (as it were) by
opposition to the abuse of the spirit of acquiescence
In traditional teaching, appeared true and honest
and right, and employing itself negatively only in
reforming corruptions, approved itself to sincere and
honest men. We know that in Italy and Rome itself
many a man was conscious how greatly reforms were
needed ; but the truth was this, that a reluctance to
accept dogmatic teaching through the medium of any
body of men was at the bottom of all: and had certain
reforms l)(:en carried out at Rome, in all human
probal^ility, the Reformation would only have been
1852.] Private yudgment 103
postponed, not prevented. Neander attributes, of
course, all previous opposition to Catholic teaching
(which up to the time of the Reformation was instantly
anathematised as heresy,) as manifestations of the
same tendency of the human mind. There are many
ways of putting the difficulty, but I see only one
way of answering it, and that is (as I said in my last
letter) and must be a practical answer. We can't
say ' It is right to do what your heart and conscience
do not assent to, because it is commanded by a voice
you ought to recognise ;' it would be a very fearful
responsibility to incur. We can't say ' Your own
heart and conscience and good sense will be sufficient
guide for you ;' but to give an argumentative logical
answer to the people who choose to maintain either
the one or the other, I don't conceive to be possible.
As a matter of fact, both parties do employ, the one
their private judgment, the other, that principle
which, call it tradition, experience, or what you will,
has a practical effect upon everybody. What is
respect for the law among masses of men, but a
recognition of this principle ? They act as if they
could tell you in so many words that freedom is not
license ; that license is interference with the liberty of
others ; that freedom consists in being allowed to do
everything that is right and good, but consistent
with the welfare of one's neighbours ; that there is
more real freedom in England, where you are im-
prisoned for stealing, than in California, where you
may stab a man with impunity. Now, if freedom
must secure the liberty of each Individual, It is plain
that no individual can settle for himself what this free-
dom is to be, for there would always be a fearof his en-
croaching upon his neighbour's liberty ; consequently
the whole collective body must decide it, must make
laws which secure universal acceptance, must provide
I04 Lif'^ of yoJin Coleridge Patteson [Ch. iv.
for their being carried out. The idea of freedom is
inseparable from that of law. How great Hooker is
upon this theme ! I don't know enough of him to
observe how he applies all this to the Christian
freedom and the liberty of the will. The difficulty
must be, of course, in finding an analogy between
something tangible and something unseen, incapable
of being coerced, though the passing into the overt
act can be made culpable ; but I think there must be
some such analogy. This way of approaching the
subject has occurred to me as I wrote, and shows the
advantage of trying to work out one's thoughts on
paper ; but it is very vague, I know.
(Aug. 6, Sunday). You express much of what lies
at the root of the whole matter by saying that our
Lord intended there should be a ministry ' emanating
from Him,' not elected by the mass, &c. I like that
expression very much, it sets one's thoughts in the
right direction at once, and involves a truth that
must never be lost sight of. Neander would, I think,
sa}' here that he quite agreed with you, but that he
extended the application of the words to all Chris-
tians. He is very orthodox upon the necessity of
union with Christ as the only source of good and
happiness, and would view every system that did
not profess to emanate from Him as radically wrong.
I think his fallacy lies in the view he takes of Church
government in the Apostolic age, which he of course
considers a pattern for all succeeding time, but a
pattern which was (according to him) very soon
c<jrru[)te(l. lie understands i Cor. xii. 13, &c., to
mean that everybody that felt an ' inward call '
(exactly translated) in the congregation had a right
to speak, preach, &c. He assumes that, inasmuch as
women were to be silent, men were all allowed to
1852.] Calls to the Ministry 105
speak (which probably was true), and quotes Hilary,
who to him is the most unprejudiced of the early
writers. ' Primuin omnes docebaiit et omncs baptiza-
bant 7tt cresceret plebs et miUtiplicaretur, omnibus
inter initia concesstun est et evangelizare et bap-
tizare et scriptnras explorare! (Ephes. iv. 12,) I
don't know the context ; but the New Testament
itself attributes to these members of the Corinthian
Church unusual gifts, extraordinary powers, sufficient
to indicate not only to themselves (the ' inward call'),
but to be a witness to others that they were em-
powered to act as they did. An extraordinary call
would supersede the necessity of ordinary means of
imparting grace. What is Ordination, but a medi-
ately imparted grace ? And if God manifestly exhibits
His power in man immediately without the interven-
tion of ordinary means, one has surely no right to
contend for the disuse of the ordinary means when
the extraordinary have ceased. If a dissenter said
to me, ' I do this and that because I feel the gift of
the Spirit,' I think I should say ' You may have the
gift of the Spirit for aught I know, for I can't see
your heart, but I require you to show me that you
have it, otherwise I cannot accept with confidence
your ministrations,' Conf. the two first questions
in the Ordination Service. Neander, not choosine
to see this, and looking upon the post-Apostolical
Church as defective, in that the laity were excluded
from their Christian privilege of teaching, &c., looking
upon the very distinction of clergy and laity as a
departure from the pure Christian faith, and yet not
being able to deny the historical fact of Episcopacy
being everywhere in the beginning of the third
century, at latest, recognised as the proper form of
Christian government, (he) was forced to take refuge
io6 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. iv.
in the distinction between the essence and the form
of Christianity I have before mentioned. His error,
to my mind, consists in his viewing the clerical order
as a body excluding the laity from former privileges ;
in assuming that originally this order (which he
connects with the Ordo senatoj'um adopted into the
Christian government) was simply a convenient, or
it may be necessary, arrangement for the linking
together of the Christian, as of other society ; that
the possessors of the ^dpi(r[xa. xujbspvrja-scos naturally
became the Trpoza-rwrsg t(ov a3;X4>«)v, without anything
more than a civil right (as it were) of presiding
beine attached to their office. In fact, he frames
Church polity by the same ideas and rules of neces-
sary precedency and subordination by which human
society exists. This could only be done by break-
ing off sharply and abruptly the connection between
the Apostles and the next (in time) of Christian err/-
(Txrjirrji. Accordingly, he says that the Apostles stood
in such a relation towards the Christian community
as corresponded to their position alone in the
development of the Church, and which, therefore,
could not be passed on to any other office, since
they alone were the bearers of the Word and Spirit
of Christ for all centuries, the witnessess of His
personal appearance upon earth. His works. His
resurrection in a new and higlicr form of existence
— tlie necessary members through which the whole
Church was connected with Christ. His idea of
a Christian community then will be this : a congre-
gation of pcoi)lc, all inheriting by their equal partici-
pation in Christ's work, and all capable of exercising
the same privileges, yet, for tlie sake of order, and
because natural gifts and (|ualilies fit certain men
aljove otliers for certain (hilics, adiniltin*'" a subordi-
1852.] Neaiidcr 107
nation of some and precedency of others, without,
however, any distinction of spiritual office, &c.
Now, in any case, it appears useful to see what he
can say for this view ; and if a man of acknowledged
great learning, industry, and intellectual power can
be accepted as the representative of these views, I
don't know where a more perfect specimen in modern
days than Neander is to be found, and this is the
very view that Dissent of all denominations has
adopted in England ; and a careful analysis of
Neander's work would arm one well, I think, on
this one point. I doubt if I ever shall have to
argue with an opponent of a hundredth part of this
man's power. The simply historical parts of his
works are invaluable — such great research and
really almost inconceivable knowledge ; and, what is
more than all, he possessed the great gift of a wide,
broad view of his subject so as to observe the rela-
tive bearings and importance of events exhibiting
themselves in masses and extending over centuries,
not measuring the course of the Church or the
world by simple acts and dates. To this he united
a strong common sense and sound judgment. He
was in no sense a mere theorist ; and if you consider
that he was originally a Jew, and had felt in his
own experience what a sad, hopeless religion that
must now be, it is not to be wondered at if in his
emancipation from the bondage of the Law, he a
little overstepped the liberty of the Gospel. He
exhibits in his own person the passage from the
one to the other of Divinely revealed forms of re-
ligion ; but it took centuries to develope and fix the
proper points of opposition between them in the
Church's history.
Did I tell you of my interview with Dr. Harlem
io8 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. iv.
in my last letter ? He is the leading man in Saxony.
I sat with him twenty minutes, and spoke on
these matters ; among other things, he assured me
that the reaction from scepticism was so strong
that Jiis difficulty is to prevent people from falling
back too much upon what he considers mere
traditional belief, and yet he is held to be a high
Lutheran. I ventured to tell him that I liked
Neander's historical and scientific works much
better than his exegetical treatises, e.g. his ' Life
of Jesus ' and ' History of the Planting of the
Church,' and he said, with great warmth, * I am
delighted to hear you say that.' It was so far a
sign to me that I had taken on this point the right
view of what Neander meant to teach ; but I don't
expect ever to be able to sound the depth of his
reasons. Experience in religious questions — not
mental acuteness, is the only way to do this. . . .
The German papers had no room for more than
the election news from England, as far as I have
seen, and certain political questions between us and
America about the fisheries. I hardly think that
triple alliance against the assumption of an heredi-
tary throne by Louis Napoleon can be true — I read
it in a German paper, copied from the ' Morning
Chronicle.' I saw yesterday an article and a state-
ment in the ' Times ' about the different views
taken by the Law Commissioners and the Society
for Reforming the Law with respect to proposed
alterations. The abolition of Masters in Chancery,
I supjjosc, is all very well ; but I was very sorry
to see that the Law Reform Society go beyond the
Commissioners in their suggestions, with respect to
the abolition ol special pleading, doing away with
the distinctions of Law and lujuity, and as it
1852.] Learning Hebi^eiv 109
seemed to me, wishing to interfere very much with
the existing principle of deciding as much as pos-
sible upon each case by referring to precedents ; in
a word, by wishing to introduce 's method on
the Bench, and to upset the whole fabric of the
Law, with the Bar, Bench, and solicitors, and special
pleaders at once. These suggestions seem to pro-
ceed from the assumption that Common Law contra-
dicts in its practice common sense, which I know,
from what you have said, is nonsense. Every
person is more secure now, when the technicalities
are all understood. Certain forms must be adopted,
and by the time every conceivable construction of
which they are capable has been tested in innumer-
able actions and man's invention is completely ex-
hausted, they will be just as much knocked about
and look as strange to the uninitiated as the forms
already in use. But I am a fine fellow to meddle
with this matter. . . . Ever your affectionate and
dutiful Son,
J. Coleridge Patteson.
Almost at the same time as this long and argumen-
tative letter was sent, Coley wrote to his eldest sister.
* The weather has been better suited for work, and
I feel pretty well satisfied with my Hebrew.
What makes it so difficult is principally this, that
as it is an Oriental language, it is entirely different
in structure, and in its inflections, &c., from any
language I ever came across. I can't fall back
upon anything already learnt to help me ; but I see
my way pretty clear now, and shall soon have little
more than a knowledo^e of the meanins^ of the words
to learn, which is only a matter of patience, and can
be learnt with a good dictionary and practice. A
no Life of Johii Coleridge Patteson [ch. iv,
real complete knowledge of the grammar is of course
the great thing. I was so lucky about buying my
grammar. Schier, who gives me Hebrew lessons
three times a week (he said I did not want any
more German, which is in one sense true, but I don't
speak as well as this may seem to intimate from
want of daily practice), told me that Rodiger's
edition of Gesenius's Grammar was far the most
perfect thing to be had, only it cost 9^-. in German
and from 15^. to i/. in the English translation of it ;
which was yesterday confirmed by an Englishman,
as far as the price of the translation is concerned.
What do you think of my coming across an uncut
copy of the last edition for is. 6d. ? I suppose the
man did not know the value of it, or else must have
become possessed of it in some unusual way. I
tried to get another copy to give Schier, but can't
find one anywhere. Mine is the German edition,
which I prefer, as everything must suffer by being
translated, and it is admirable and quite interesting
to read, and giving a good, almost philosophical,
reason for everything. The author is about the
greatest Hebrew scholar of modern times, and a
great philologist, so that one can feel sure that what
he says is correct, and in fact it is the text book from
which all other grammars are compiled.
The great Dresden fair, called the Vogelschiesser,
is going on, it began last Sunday and ends next
Sunday. About half a mile from the town there is
a very large meadow by the river, where a small
town of booths, tents, &c., is erected, and where shoot-
ing at targets willi wooden darts, sham railway-
trains and riding-liorscs, confectionary of every kind,
beer of every name, strength and colour, pipes,
cigars, toys, gambling, organ grinding, fiddling,
1852.] Dresden Fair 1 1 1
dancing, &c., goes on incessantly. The great
attraction, however, is the shooting at the bird, which
occupies the attention of every Saxon, and is looked
upon as the consummation of human invention and
physical science. A great pole, nearly 80 feet high,
is erected with a wooden bird, about the size of a
turkey, at the top ; to hit this with a crossbow from
a regular stand, about 50 feet from the foot of the
pole, is the highest ambition of this great people. The
accompaniments are rich in the extreme : cannon
firing, drums rolling, for a successful shot, the shooting
society, who exist only for the sole honour and glory
of hacking this bird to pieces, the presence of the king,
I think to-day, and the intense interest taken in the
amusement by the whole population ; certainly the
Germans are satisfied with less than any people I
ever saw (barring two things, smoke and beer, in
which they are insatiable). I went out to see it all,
but it rather bored me after an hour or so. Tom
F and I threw some dice for a pair of braces for
Arthur, which we presented in due form ; and we had
some shots at the targets — mine were eminently
unsuccessful.
Last night we had a great treat. Emil Devrient,
who has been acting in London, you know, came back,
and acted Marquis Posa in ' Don Carlos.' The play
acts very much better than it reads. Schiller cer-
tainly has great dramatic genius ; only I agree with
Goethe that there is always a longing for exhibiting
cruelty in its most monstrous form, and refinement
of cruelty aud depravity overstepping almost the
natural conditions of humanity. I always thought
I ago about the most awful character in Shakspeare ;
but Schiller's Philip IL is something beyond even
this, without perhaps so much necessity for the exhi-
112 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. iv.
bition of this absolute delight in evil. It is long
since I have been so excited in a theatre. I was three
rows from the stage, heard and understood every-
thing, and was so completely carried away by the
grandeur and intense feeling of Devrient (who was
well supported by the Don Carlos), that I had some
difficulty to keep quiet, and feel to-day rather odd,
shaken, as it were, from such a strain upon the
feelings. The Princess Eboli is to me utterly un-
feminine in act 2, scene 8, and something worse than I
like to think people may be in scenes 9 and 10. I don't
like her character. People make out fine plots as
the result of slighted love and jealousy, but here the
resolution is so sudden, so horrible. The Queen is, how-
ever, a beautiful creature. The whole of act 3, scene
10 is fine. Goethe makes Egmont speak the same
noble sentiments of liberty and patriotism, but Goethe
injures Egmont sadly by introducing that side of his
character which connects him with Clarchen. Posa
is all that Egmont is, without his moral failings.
Of course neither of them is Christian ; they are great
Romans, Even a decent lie, in order to cast sus-
picion upon oneself and to bring death on oneself, to
save a friend, is looked upon as the consummation of
legitimate noble self devotion : it would be probably
to a heathen. The whole of act 4, scenes 16, 17, was
magnificently acted by Devrient. Then, after he
had resolved to die, in order that Carlos may live,
and be a blessing to his kingdom and Flanders and
the world, his solemn, quiet, almost awful composure,
the fixedness of purpose, were admirably worked out :
scene 21, Here, too, some of the poetry is fine, e.g.
Zvvci kurzc Abcndstunden hingegcljen
Um cincn hcllca Sommcrtag zu rcttcn.
But here, I must allow, his niorality takes a very bad
\
1852.] Learning Arabic 113
turn, I wish I had continued to overlook it. The touch
of real feeling at the end, 'das Lcbcn ist dock scJion'
is, I think, good and true. Through the fifth act to his
death, he was very great ; and I went away quite
excited and delighted.
Here is a letter, enclosed within one to his sister
Fanny on September 9, written on a scrap of paper.
The apologetic tone of confession is amusing.
My dearest Father, — I have not before told you that
I have been at work for just three weeks upon a new
subject ; reading, however, Hebrew every day almost
for three hours as well. Schier is not a great
Hebraist ; and I found the language in one sense
easier than I expected, so that with good grammar
and dictionary I can quite get on by myself, reading
an easy part of the Bible (historical books, e.g)) at
the rate of about twenty-five verses an hour. Well,
I began to think that I ought to use the oppor-
tunities that Dresden affords. I know that Hebrew
is not a rich language ; that many words occur only
once, and consequently have an arbitrary meaning
attached to them, unless they can be illustrated from
cognate languages. Now I have a taste for these
things, and have in three weeks progressed so far in
my new study as to feel sure I shall make it useful ;
and so I tell you without fear I am working at
Arabic. I hope you won't think it silly. It is very
hard, and for ten days was as hard work as I ever
had in my life. I think I have learnt enough to see
my way now, and this morning read the first chapter
of Genesis in three-quarters of an hour. It is rich,
beyond all comparison, in inflexions ; and the difficulty
arises from the extreme multiplicity of all its forms :
e.g., each verb having not only active, middle, and
I. I
114 ■ Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. iv.
passive voices, but the primitive active having not
less than thirty-five derivative forms and the passive
thirteen. The ' noun of action,' — infinitive with
article {fh (x-nauziv) of the Greek — is again different
for each voice or form ; and the primitive can take
any of twenty-two forms, which are not compounded
according to any rule. Again, there are twenty-
eight sets of irregular plurals, which are quite
arbitrary. No grammarian has ever given any ex-
planation about them. All mere matters of memory.
The very alphabet shows the richness of the lan-
guage. There are twenty-nine letters, besides
vowel points ; and each letter is written in four
different ways, so that it is different when isolated,
when in the beginning, middle, or end of a word.
It took me some hours to learn them. In very
many respects, it is closely allied to the Hebrew, so
that everybody who writes Hebrew grammars and
lexicons necessarily has much to do with Arabic ;
and a knowledge of it may be of great use in clearing
up difficulties in the Bible, My year in Oxford will
enable me to go on with it, for in three weeks more
I hope to be able to go on alone. To-morrow I
begin the Koran. My lessons from Schier, who is
great really in this line, has written a first-rate
grammar, and studied it all his life, cost only li". dd.
an hour, and I have been lucky in getting the
lexicon for \^s. which in England is very rare and
very dear. In the Bodleian I shall find, of course,
all I want. I am in treaty now for a copy of
the Koran for q.s'. Schier was some years in
England, and knows the value of these books there ;
and I only buy these two because I want to use
them here, and know they are cheap. My lessons
will noL in all exceed 3/. ; and I really should have
1852.] The Means not the End 115
gone on, perhaps not much faster with Hebrew if I
had worked it exclusively ; and it is hard to read so
many hours at one thing : and I may say, now
without doubt, that I have laid the foundation for a
study of Oriental languages, if I have time and
opportunity that may be fairly given to them.
Think what one hour a day is, and the pleasure to
me is very great, and I feel that I have a knack rather
(if I may say so) of laying hold of these things.
Dont mention it to anyone.
There the fragment breaks off; and in a letter of
August 29, there occurs this reply to a message from
his eldest sister : —
' Thank dear Joan for her caution : I know I need it
sadly, especially now when I am at work upon
somewhat out-of-the-way subjects, and feel the
danger of forgetting that if I mistake the means for
the end, and feel gratified with the mere intellectual
amusement, I am doing very wrong, even when I
am working very had at very difficult matters. I
like these things, I must confess, and the time is so
well adapted to work here, and now that the weather
is cool I can secure every day a good long time to
myself.'
In the enclosed letter he announces that he shall
leave Dresden in another three weeks. He says : —
' We have had a steady working time of it here ; and
as I know some members of the family rather dis-
courage these continental flights, I just sum up the
advantages thereof. Being natvirally endowed with
a love of music, the probability is, that when you,
Clara, and Miss Horsley are together in the house,
as soon as a Lied or Sonata began, away would go
I 2
1 16 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. IV.
my books, or at all events my thoughts. You know-
well that the piano goes at all hours, and always in
the morning at home. Then riding, walking with
Father, long sitting after dinner, &c. do not improve
the chances for reading. In fact, you know that
what with visitors from without, friends within,
parties, &c., I should have had very little reading in
the vacation, and that not through my own fault
— not a Stilbche7i in the house could protect me
from music. Here I make my own time, and last
week my eyes were troublesome. I walked twice
every day, exactly at the hour when I most wanted
it ; and without nonsense, I may say that I have in
two months done really a great deal more than I
could have done at home even with masters. This
all applies to Arthur just as much. He has read
German exclusively most of the time, and knows as
well as I do that it is not possible to work at home.
If I could go on just as well as with Mendelssohn
ringing in my ears, it would be different, but I can't.
You remember how pleasant, but how very idle, last
vacation was, and especially the last six weeks
of it ! '
Then, after much about family matters, commissions,
and little gifts which he was collecting for all at
home —
' I should like to get something for everybody, but
that is not possible. Luckily, my lessons are less
expensive than I expected, and, considering the
work, wonderfully cheap. I make good progress, I
can say ; but the difficulty is great enough to dis-
courage any but a real "grinder" at such work. I
have written a scrap for Father, and you will see that
I am working away pretty well. I have finished my
1852.] Apologies for Eastern Languages 117
introductory book, consisting of forty-one fables ; and
though difficulties present themselves always to
really good scholars from time to time, the Bible is
not one of the hardest books, not so hard, e.g. as the
Koran. Now I can at any future time, if the oppor-
tunity comes, go on with these things, and I hope
find them really useful. I know you like to hear
what I am doing ; but be sure to keep it all quiet, let
no one know but Father and Joan. You might care-
lessly tell it to anyone in fun, and I don't wish it to
be known. Especially don't let any of the family
know. Time enough if I live out my Oxford year,
and have really mastered the matter pretty well.
Remember this is taken up with a view to elucidate
and explain what is so very hard in Hebrew.
Hebrew is to be the Hauptsache, this the Hiilfs-
mittel, or some day I hope one of several such helps.
It is very important to accustom one's mind to the
Denk- 2Sidi AnscJianungswerk of the Orientals, which
is so different from that of Europeans or their lan-
guage. How hard are the metaphors of the Bible
for this reason ! '
There is something in all these long apologies
and strenuous desire for secrecy about these Arabic
studies that reminds one that the character was a self-
conscious introspective one, always striving for hu-
mility, and dreading to be thought presumptuous. A
simpler nature, if devoid of craving for home sympathy,
would never have mentioned the new study at all ; or
if equally open-hearted, would have let the mention of
it amonor home friends take its chance, without
o
troubling himself as to their possible comments. In-
deed, it is curious to observe how elaborate he was at
this period about all his concerns, meditating over the
ii8 Life of John Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch, iv,
cause of whatever affected him. It was a form of
growth ; and dropped off when the time of action
arrived, and his character had shaped itseff. It must
be remembered, too, that his habit of pouring out all
his reflections and feelings to his sisters, and their pre-
servation of his letters, have left much more on record
of these personal speculations than is common.
His father made a much simpler matter of the
Arabic matter, in the following characteristic letter : —
Feniton Court : September 14, 1852.
My dearest Coley, — So far from thinking you wrong
in learning Arabic, I feel sure that you are quite
right. However, we shall keep your secret, and not
say anything about it. I am heartily glad that you
should acquire languages, modern as well as ancient.
You know I have often pressed the former on your
and Jem's notice, from myself feeling my deficiency
and reeret at it. I can well understand that Arabic,
and I should suppose Syriac also, must be of the
greatest use towards a true understanding of much
of the Old Testament : a great deal of which is
doubtless not understood by those who under-
stand only our translation, or even the Septuagint,
which I suspect to have many passages far from a
faithful vehicle of the meaning of the original. I
was greatly delighted with your theological letter, so
to speak, as well as with the first, and look to have
some jolly conversations with you on such sub-
jects. . . .
Wc have many more partridges than our neigh-
bours, and Jem shoots uncommonly well. Three
double shots yesterday. I shoot worse than usual ;
and cannot walk without mucli fatigue and frequent
pain, so that I shall not be- aljle to work enough to
1852.] Intended RetiLvu of Bishop Broiighton 1 19
get much sport I got through the Mary
Church affair very well — that is, not making a fool
of myself — and if I did not do much good, I think I
did no harm. The Bishop of Exeter^ is mightily
pleased, and wrote me a letter to that effect. Of
course I cannot tell you what I said, it would be too
long, nor are you likely to see it. It was fully in-
serted in ' Woolmer,' and from him copied into the
' Guardian.' . . . The Bishop of Sydney'^ is coming
home to endeavour to arrange something as to their
Synodical meetings and Church government in the
Colonies, and hoping that it may be connected with
something of the kind at home. Whenever he
comes I shall give him the meeting, to try to be of
any use I can in that quarter. He refers to me for
a solution of some difficulty he has felt about ad-
ministering the Oath of Supremacy, or rather. Abju-
ration, at the time of Ordaining, in consequence of
the late Act against Ecclesiastical Titles by the
Papists not saying anything touching the Colonies,
and so he fancies that whatever is by that Act pro-
hibited in England and Ireland only, is implicitly
authorised in the Colonies from the silence of the
Act as to them. I answered the objection through
Uncle Edward ; but it cannot have reached him
before he started from home, showing that the
inference is incorrect, and these matters remain with
regard to Popery in the Colonies precisely in the
same state as they were before the passing of the
late Act, and not affected by it.
I live in hopes to see you well and hearty at
Oxford on the 14th of October, till when, adieu.
God bless you, Your affectionate Father,
J. Patteson.
' Dr. Henry Philpotts. ^ Bishop Broughton.
t20 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. I v.
The interview with the Bishop of Sydney never
took place, for the excellent Bishop Broughton arrived
with health shattered by his attendance on the sufferers
from fever in the ship which brought him from St.
Thomas, and he did not long survive his landing.
The ' Mary Church affair' here referred to was the
laying the foundation-stone of the Church, built or
restored, it is hard to say which, on the lines of the
former one, and preserving the old tower, at St. Mary
Church, near Torquay. Though the death of the Rev.
G. M. Coleridge had broken one tie with the place, it
continued to be much beloved by the Patteson family,
and Sir John had taken so much share in the Church
building work as to be asked to be the layer of the
corner stone. The speech he made at the ensuing
luncheon excited much attention ; and the sisters took
care that their brother should not miss reading it. The
stay at Dresden was drawing to an end ; and he was
preparing to return through Berlin, intending to go
direct to Oxford and reside there till the summer,
when he meant to seek ordination and enter on the
Curacy at Alfington. He says to his sister Joanna :
' It is a long time to pass without seeing you, but I
hope, if it please God that we all live on together,
that it will be long before such another interval
occurs. I have not grown out of an occasional fit of
home sickness yet ; and on these occasions Arthur
and I talk incessantly about domestic matters, and
indul.L^c. our fancies in conjecturing what you are all
doing, and so forth. I followed Joan and Clara's
trip, step by step, from the Den at Teignmouth
to St. Mary Church, Oddiscombe, Babbicombe,
Anstcy's Cave, Meadfoot, &c. How I remember
every inch of the dear old places ! Better than the
1852.] Si?^ y. Pattesoiis Speech at Maij CJnirch T2I
mud banks at Felixstowe, are they not, Clara ? I shall
keep always the scrap from the ' Guardian ' with
Father's speech. I don't think I remember
any speech on a similar occasion so thoroughly
good, and so likely to do good. Plain, sensible,
and manly, no question of words and unimportant
differences of opinion ; no cant, high or low, just
like himself I pray I may have but a tenth
part of his honesty and freedom from prejudice and
party spirit. It may come, under God's blessing,
if a man's mind is earnestly set on the truth ;
but the danger is of setting up your own exclusive
standard of truth, moral and intellectual. Father
certainly is more free from it than any man we ever
knew. He tells me in his letter that the Bishop of
Sydney is coming home to consult people in Eng-
land about Synodical Action, &c., and that he is
going to meet him and explain to him certain diffi-
culties and mistakes into which he has fallen with
regard to administering the Oath of Abjuration and
the like matters. How few people, comparatively,
know the influence Father exercises in this way
behind the scenes, as it were. His intimacy with so
many of the Bishops, too, makes his position really
of very great importance. I don't want to magnify,
but the more I think of him, and know how very few
men they are that command such general respect,
and bear such a character with all men for upright-
ness and singleness of purpose, it is very difficult to
know how his place could be supplied when we
throw his legal knowledge over and above into
the scale. I hope he will write : I am quite certain
that his opinion will exercise a great influence on
very many people. Such a speech as this at Mar}'
Church embodies exactly the sense of a considerable
122 Life of yohn Colci'idgc Pattesoii [Ch. iv.
number of the most prudent and most able men of
the country, and his position and character give it
extra weight, and that would be so equally with his
book as with his speech. How delightful it will be
to have him at Oxford. He means to come in time
for dinner on the 14th, and go away on the i6th ; but
if he likes it, he will, I daresay, stop now and then on
his way to town and back. Jem will not be back in
town when he goes up for the Judicial Committee
work, so he will be rather solitary there, Vv^on't he.
I am not, however, sure about the number of weeks
Jem must reside to keep his term. . . .'
The enjoyment of the last few days at Dresden was
much marred by a heavy cold, caught by going to see
an admirable representation of ' Egmont,' the last of
these theatrical treats so highly appreciated. The
journey to Berlin, before the cold was shaken off,
resulted in an attack of illness ; and he was so heavy
and uncomfortable as to be unable to avail himself of
his opportunities of interesting introductions.
He returned to his rooms at Merton direct from
Germany. Like many men who have come back to
Oxford at a riper age than that of undergraduate
life, he now entered into the higher privileges and
enjoyments of the University, the studies, friendships,
and influences, as early youth sometimes fails to do.
He was felt by his Oxford friends to have greatly
developed since his Balliol terms had been over and
the Eton boy left behind. Study was no longer a toil
and conscientious effort. It had become a prime
pleasure ; and men wondered to find the plodding,
accurate, but unciuhusiastic student of three years
back, a linguist and phiJok^gist of no common power
and attainment. Mr. Roundell says ' He had become
1852.] Election of \'i^T) 123
quite another person. Self-cultivation had done much
for him. Literature and art had opened his mind and
enlarged his interests and sympathies. The moral and
spiritual forces of the man were now vivified, refined
and strengthened by the awakening of his intellectual
and aesthetic nature.'
Ever reaching forward, however, he was on his guard
against, as he said, making the means the end. Lan-
guages were his pleasure, but a pleasure held in check
as only subservient to his preparation for the Ministry.
He did not mean to use them to the acquirement of
academical honour nor promotion, nor did he even
rest in the intellectual delight of investigation ; he in-
tended them only as keys to the better appreciation
of the Scriptures and of the doctrines of the Church,
unaware as yet that the gift he was cultivating would
be of inestimable value in far distant regions.
At the University election of 1853, when Mr. Glad-
stone, having alarmed a large proportion of his suppor-
ters at Oxford by his tendencies towards change, was
opposed by Mr. Perceval, Coley sent constant accounts
of the poll, but interspersed with observations on a
sermon of Dr. Pusey's, thus : —
Monday 7.30 P.M.
My dearest Father, — Gladstone's majority is only 124
this evening, Perceval having polled some twelve
men in the day. People say it is a mere farce
keeping the poll open. Squibs, &c., go about, but
not one of them worth the carriage.
Dr. Pusey preached yesterday morning, rather a
relief after friend . He must have been preaching
nearly, if not quite, an hour and a half ; at least he
began soon after 10.30, and I was not back here till
12.15. He preached upon i Cor. x. 16 : not a difficult
sermon to follow, though doctrinal throughout, with
124 Z.?_7t' of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. I v.
the exception of some five minutes plain spoken, and
very beautiful words of advice to his ' younger
brethren.' The subject, however, is comparatively
so familiar that it was easy to understand him. I
hope he will print It, for it would be most valuable
as a collection of witnesses to the truth of the
Real Sacramental Presence. After propounding the
plain orthodox teaching in contradistinction to
Rome and Geneva — I will finish to-morrow. Post
going. J. C. P.
' I was talking about Dr. P.'s sermon, and I
think had just said that after exposing the errors of
Rome and Geneva, he discussed at great length the
question of the literal or non-literal interpretation of
the words " This is my Body." This part of the
sermon was very interesting, not only did he supply
many new arguments for the literal interpretation of
this particular passage, but for the guidance of people
in the interpretation of Scripture generally. Then
he discussed the question which, in spite of its
manifest absurdity, is often put, (and which I suppose
he therefore thought worth discussing) as to whether
even in the most momentous sentence of Holy
Scripture the whole truth is necessarily conveyed in
an insulated passage, (just as Mr. wants
always, according to E. , one text to prove a
doctrine, not knowing, I suppose, that our Lord did
not teach in a dogmatic form). Then he said, " I will
sliow that the doctrine has been taught by the
united voice of the whole Church, from the time of
the Apostles to that of St. Leo, and to this end I will
quote from P'athers of every Church, every age,
every form of ()])ini()ii ;" which he did to the number
of fifty ! I hop(; to see the sermon soon in print,
J 853] His Brothers Accident 125
when you shall have a copy. You remember that he
was suspended for his sermon on the same subject,
which is bound up among the pamphlets at home.'
The letter ends with a report of the poll ; and on
Thursday he writes, ' The poll closed with Gladstone,
1022, Perceval, 898.'
And then proceeds to his great delight in receiving his
uncle, Dr. Coleridge, who had come up to give his vote
In February, while Sir John Patteson was in London,
his son James was the cause of much alarm, owing to
a mistake by which he swallowed an embrocation
containing a large amount of laudanum. Prompt
measures, however, prevented any ill effects ; and all
danger was over before the letter was sent off which
informed Coley of what had happened ; but the bare
idea of the peril was a great shock to one of such
warm affections, and so deeply attached to his only
brother. He wrote the two following letters to his
Father and sisters on the first impulse on the receipt of
the intelligence : —
Shrove Tuesday.
My dearest Father, — I believe I speak truly when I
say that I never in my life felt so thoroughly thankful
and grateful to God for his great mercy, as I did this
morning, on reading of dear Jem's danger and safety.
He is less accustomed to talk about his feelings than
I am, in which I see his superiority, but partly because
our tastes are in several respects different, chiefly
because of his exceeding amiability and unselfish-
ness. I am sure we love each other very dearly.
Ever since his illness at Geneva, I have from time
to time contemplated the utter blank, the real
feeling of loss, which anything happening to him
would bring with it, and the having it brought home
close to me in this way quite upset me, as it well
126 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. iv.
might. I pray God that no ill effects may follow,
and from what you say, I apprehend none. I have
often thought that it is much better when two
brothers propose to themselves different objects in
life, and pursue them with tastes dissimilar on un-
important matters. They act better upon one
another ; just as I look to Jem, as I have more than
once told him, to give me a hint when he sees a want
of common sense in anything I take up, because I know
I act a good deal from impulse, and take an interest
in many things which are perhaps not worth the
time I spend on them. It is a mercy that I hope I
shall never forget, never cease to be thankful for.
Many and many a time, if it please God, I shall
look to him in difficulties, and remember how nearly
once he was lost to me. I can get away with the
greatest ease for a few days on Thursday if desir-
able, and perhaps old Jem will feel low after this,
when you have left him. I think this very likely,
from what I know of him, and if you think it too,
without asking him if he would like it, I will come
up for some other reason. You will not go, I know
unless he is perfectly well ; but he might, and I think
would, like to have some one with him just at first.
Let me know what you think.
Good-bye, my dearest Father,
Ever your affectionate and dutiful Son,
J. C. Patteson.
Merton : Shrove Tuesday.
My dearest Joan and Fan, — How we must all have
united this morning in pouring out our thanks to
God for Ills great mercy! You will not suspect
me of being wanting in love to you, if I say that the
contemplation of wliat might have,' happened pre-
1S53.] Thankfulness 127
sented such a scene of desolation, such a void, that
it would have required all the strength I possess to
turn to God in resignation and submission to His
will. I have often, very often, thought of that
illness at Geneva, but this brought it home to me,
perhaps closer still ; and I hope I shall never cease
to be mindful of, and thankful for, this special pro-
vidence. Father seems pretty confident that all mis-
chief is prevented ; and Jem wrote six hours after he
took the laudanum, and had then felt no drowsiness
to speak of, and Dr. Watson said there was no fear
of anything happening after hvo hours had elapsed.
I should like to join with you in showing our grati-
tude by some deed of charity, or whatever you think
right. Something that without any show might be
a thank-offering to God for His signal act of mercy.
Ever your loving Brother,
J. C. Patteson.
5.30. I wrote this quite early this morning. I can
hardly think yet what it all means. Now I feel only
a sense of some very heavy affliction removed. Poor
dear Father, and all of us ! what should we have
been without him !
A letter to the brother himself was written under the
same impulse, even more tenderly affectionate, but so
deep and intimate, that it would almost be treason to
give it to the world. The next letter was written soon
after the alarm had passed, but is undated.
My dear Fan, — Yesterday I was unluckily too seedy
with headache to go on the ice, and this morning I
have been skating for half an hour, but the ice is
spoilt. Very jolly it is to be twisting and turning
about once more. I thought of writing to old Jem
to come down for it, as I should think the frost is
128 Life of Jo Jul Coleridge Pattcsoii [Ch. iv.
not severe enough to freeze any but the shallow water
of the floods, but It was not good enough to reward
him for the trouble of coming so far.
The constant sense of his preservation from that
great danger really prevents my feeling so acutely per-
haps as I ought to do the distress of others. I really
think I ought to be less cheerful and happy than I
feel myself to be. I had a pleasant little talk with
Dr. Pusey on Monday : he was recommending me two
or three books for Hebrew reading, but they would
be of no use to me yet ; the language is difficult to
advance far into, and you know my shallow way of
catching a thing at first rather quickly perhaps, but
only superficially. I find my interest increasing
greatly in philological studies. One language helps
another very much ; and the beautiful way in which
the words, ideas, and the whole structure indeed, of
language pervades whole families, and even the
different families, {e.g., the Indo-Germanic and
Semitic races,) is not only interesting, but very useful.
I wish I had made myself a better Greek and Latin
scholar, but unfortunately I used to hate classics.
What desperate uphill work it was to read them, a
regular exercise of self-denial every morning ! Now
I like it beyond any study, except Divinity proper,
and I try to make up for lost time. There are ad-
mirable books in my possession which facilitate the
acquisition of critical scholarship very much, and I
work at these, principally applying it to New Test.
Greek, LXX, &c. But my real education began, I
think, with my first foreign trip. It seems as if there
was not time for all this, for I have Hebrew, Arabic,
&c., to go on with (though this is a slow process),
Pearson, Hooker, 131unt on the Reformation (a mere
sketch which I read in a day or two at odd times),
1853.] ^^^ of DisciLssion 129
Commentaries, Trench's Books on Parables and
Miracles, which are in my room at home, and would
in parts interest you ; he is a writer of good
common sense, and a well read man). But I of course
want to be reading history as well, and that involves
a good deal ; physical geography, geology, &c., yet
one thing helps another very much. I don't work
quite as methodically as I ought ; and I much want
someone to discuss matters with relating to what I
read. I don't say all this, I am sure you know, as if
I wanted to make out that I am working at grand
subjects. I know exceeding little of any one of them, so
little history, e.g., that a school girl could expose my
ignorance directly, but I like to know what we are
doing among ourselves, and we all get to know each
other better thereby. I felt so much of late with
regard to Jem, that a natural reserve prevents so
often mem.bers even of the same family from com-
municating freely to each other their opinions, busi-
ness, habits of life, experiences of sympathy, approval,
disapproval, and the like ; and when one member is
gone, then it is felt how much more closely such a
habit of dealing with each other would have taught
us to know him. . . Nothing tests one's knowledge so
well as questions and answers upon what we have
read, stating difficulties, arguments which we can't
understand, &c., to each other. Ladies who have
no profession to prepare for, in spite of a very large
correspondence and numerous household duties, may
(in addition to their parochial work as curates 1)
take up a real course of reading and go into it
thoroughly ; and this gives girls not only employment
for the time, but gives the mind power to seize every
other subject presented to it. If you are quite alone
your reading is apt to become desultory. I find it
I. K
130 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. iv.
useful to take once or twice a week a walk with
Riddell of Balliol, and go through a certain period
of Old Testament history ; it makes me get it up,
and then between us we hammer out so many more
explanations of difficult passages than, at all events, I
should do by myself. He is, moreover, about the
best Greek scholar here, which is a great help to me.
You have no idea of the light that such accurate
scholarship as his throws upon many disputed
passages in the Bible, e.g., ' Wisdom is justified of
her children,' where the Greek preposition probably
gives the key to the whole meaning, and many such.
So you see, dear old Fan, that the want of some one
to pour out this to, for it sounds fearfully pedantic,
I confess, has drawn upon you this grievous in-
fliction.
My kindest love to Father and dear Joan,
Ever your loving
J. C. P.
The Patteson family were not merely a mutual ad-
miration or improvement society, and sometimes these
theories were viewed as the unpractical notions of a
younger brother. Fanny Patteson seems to have
answered him with arguments on the other duties
whicli hindered her from enterinof on the course of
deep study and mutual exchange of discoveries which
he had, more theoretically than practically, been recom-
mending, really more to the abstract young lady than
to her in particular. He replies : —
Feb. 25, 1853.
My dearest Viin, — I must answer your very sensible
well written letter at once, because on our system of
nuitual exj)laiiati()n, there are two or three things I
wisli to notice in it. I-'irst, I never meant that any-
1853.] What to Read 13 [
thing should supersede duties which I am well aware
you practise with real use to yourself and those
about you, e.g., the kindness and sympathy shown
to friends, and generally due observance of all social
relations. Second, I quite believe that the practical
application of what is already known, teaching, going
about among the poor, is of far more consequence
than the acquisition of knowledge, which, of course,
for its own sake is worth nothing. Third, I think
you perfectly right in keeping up music, singing,
all the common amusements of a country life ; of
course I do, for indeed what 1 said did not apply to
Joan or you, except so far as this, that we all know
probably a great deal of which each one is separately
ignorant, and the free communication of this to one
another is desirable, I think.
My own temptation consists perhaps chiefly in the
love of reading for its own sake. I do honestly think
that for a considerable time past I have read, I believe,
nothing which I do not expect to be of real use, for
I have no taste naturally for novels, &c. (without,
however, wishing to deny that there may be novels
which teach a real insight into character). Barring
' I Profuessi Sposi,' which I take up very seldom when
tired, I have not read one for ages : I must except
* Old Mortality,' read last Vacation at Feniton ; but
I can't deny that I like the study of languages for its
own sake, though I apply my little experience in it
wholly to the interpretation of the Bible. I like
improving my scholarship, it is true, but I can say
honestly that it is used to read the Greek Testament
with greater accuracy : so of the Hebrew, Syriac,
Arabic. I feel, I confess, sometimes that it is nice, &c.,
to know several languages, but I try to drive away
any such thoughts, and it is quite astonishing how,
K 2
132 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. iv.
after a few weeks a study which would suggest ideas
of an unusual course of reading becomes so familiar
that I never think of myself when pursuing it, e.g.,
I don't think that after two hours' grind at Arabic
the stupid wrong feeling of its being an out-of-the-
way study comes upon me now, it is getting quite
natural. It comes out though when I talk or write
perhaps with another, but I must try and get
over it.
I believe it to be a good thing to break off any
work once or twice a day in the middle of any reading,
for meditating a little while and for prayer. This is
more easily done at College than elsewhere ; and, is I
hope, a preventive against such thoughts. Then, as
I jog on I see how very little I know, what an
immense deal I have to learn to become ordinarily
well acquainted with these things. I am in that
state of mind perhaps when Ecclesiastes (which I am
now reading) puts my own case exactly before me.
I think, What's the good of it all ? And the answer
comes, it may be very good properly used, or very
mischievous if abused. I do indeed look forward to
active parochial work : I think I shall be very happy
so employed, and I often try to anticipate the time
in thought, and feel with perfect sincerity that
nothing is so useful or so full of comfort as the con-
sciousness of trying to fulfil the daily duties of my
situation. Here of course I need do nothing ; I
mean there is nothing to prevent my sitting all day
in an arm-chair and reading ' Pickwick.' . . . One word
about the way languages help me, that you may
not thmk what I am doing harder than it really is.
These three bear the same kind of relation to each
other (or rather say these five, Arabic, Syriac, Hebrew,
Chaldee, Ethiopic ; but of the last I know nothing
1 853-] Use of Oriental Lang-uages 133
whatever, and of Chaldee only so much as that it Is
a dialect of Hebrew in the same character, and con-
sequently anyone who knows Hebrew knows some-
thing about it), as German to English, e.g., Bahlo^n
(Arab,), Becl (Syr.), Baal (Heb.), are the same
word, as you can see, only written in different
characters, and all mean ' a lord,' so Baal, Beelzebub,
or Baalzebeb. Baal Peor, which means, literally,
' the Lord of the ravine,' viz., the idol worshipped
at the Pass in the wilderness. Consequently, in
reading any one of these languages, the same word
keeps on occurring in all ; and the chief use is of
course that often a word which occurs only once or
twice in Hebrew perhaps is in common use in the
others, and so its meaning is fixed. Add to all this,
that the Syriac version of the New Testament was
made (as all agree) early in the second century, if
not at the end of the first, and thus is the very best
exponent of the New Testament where the Greek
is doubtful ; and the additional fact, that though a
mixture of Chaldee and Syriac was the language of
Palestine in our Lord's time, yet He certainly
sometimes spoke what is now our Syriac (e.g.,
Talitha cumi, &c.), and the importance of it is appa-
rent. Surely to read the language that our Blessed
Lord himself used is no small profit, as well as
delight.
So I think we may each go on in our several
pursuits, each helping each, and each trying to do so
without a foolish affectation of learninof.
My best love to dear Father and Joan,
Ever your affectionate Brother,
J. C. P.
Fenelon has said that in a certain stage of piety there
134 Life of jfoJm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. IV.
is much of self, and Coley was evidently in that stage.
His own figure was the primary object before his eyes,
neither indulged, nor admired, but criticised, repressed,
and by his very best efforts thrust aside, whenever he
was conscious that his self contemplation was self
complacency. Still it was in his nature to behold it,
and discuss it, and thus to conquer and outgrow the
study in time, while leaving many observations upon
self culture and self training, that will no doubt become
deeply valued as the result of the practical experience
of one who so truly mastered that obtrusive self.
The next letter that presents itself is to Mrs. Martyn,
undated ; but as he speaks of his brother's perfect re-
covery, it must have been written during this February.
The following is the conclusion : —
* I fear that Bishop Broughton's death will be a sad
blow to the Australian Church. I took him to be an
older person. The colonial Bishops in his province
will hear the news with a heavy heart. We shall
see now something of the spirit of the Government
by their appointment.
Radicalism is certainly rife in Oxford among a small
but very clever intellectual set of men, who advance
opinions sometimes that I know well to be wrong,
but it is not my place, neither have I wit enough, to
answer them. Very much depends upon what is
done here nozv in the course of a few months.
Depend upon it, the question whether the University
is to command the respect and sympathy of the
country is to be settled now. If we don't show a
disposition to reform abuses, to make all our means
available for useful and honourable purposes, we shall
fall never to rise again. Mcrton is working well,
enire nous, with a secret commission, which I may
1853.] Reforms at Mer ton 135
fairly say does credit to the head and heart of the
majority of the Fellows.'
Accordingly Patteson was one of the most decided
workers for the admission of improvements and reduc-
tion of abuses within his own College, with which
each Oxford foundation was endeavouring to forestall
compulsory reformation by a University Commission.
Mr. Roundell says : —
' His early years as Fellow of Merton coincided with
the period of active reform at Oxford which followed
upon the Report of the Commission in 1852. What
part did the future Missionary Bishop take in that
great movement ? One who worked with him at
that time — a time when University reform was as
unfashionable as it is now fashionable — well remem-
bers. He threw himself into the work with hearty
zeal ; he supported every liberal proposal. To his
loyal fidelity and solid common sense is largely due
the success with which the reform of Merton was
carried out. And yet in those first days of College
reform the only sure and constant nucleus of the
floating Liberal majority consisted of Patteson and
one other. Whatever others did, those two were
always on the same side. And so, somehow, owing
no doubt to the general enlightenment which dis-
tinguished the senior Fellows of Merton under the
old regime — an enlightenment unquestionably due to
the predominance in that College of the lay non-resi-
dent element — the new reforming spirit found itself
in the ascendency. It is to the honour of Patteson
and equally to the honour of the older Fellows of the
College at that time, that so great an inroad upon old
traditions should have been made with such an entire
absence of provocation on the one side or of irrita-
6 Life of John Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. iv.
tion on the other. But Patteson, with all his reform-
ing zeal, was also a high-bred gentleman. He
remembered what was due to others as well as to
himself. His bearing was one of respect for
authority, of deference towards those who were his
superiors in age. He knew how to differ. He
showed towards others the considerate courtesy
which others in return so abundantly showed towards
him. And this eenerous forbearance of the seniors
had its reward. It entailed upon the juniors a reci-
procity of respect. It was felt by them at the time
to be an additional incentive to moderation, to
sobriety, to desistance from extreme views. The
result was that the work got done, and what was
done left no heartburnings behind.
Yet it will be delusive to pretend to claim
Bishop Patteson as a Liberal in the political sense of
the word. He was no such thing. If anything, his
instincts, especially in Church matters, drew him the
other way. But those who knew the man, like those
who have seen the Ammergau Play, would as soon
think of fastening upon that a sectarian character, as
of fixing him with party names. His was a catholic
mind. What distinguished him was his open-
mindedness, his essential goodness, his singleness
and simplicity of aim. He was a just man, and
singularly free from perturbations of self, of temper,
or of nerves. You did not care to ask what he
would call himself. You felt what he was, that you
wcrc^ in the presence of a man too pure for party,
of one in whose presence ordinary party distinctions
almost ceased to have a meaning. Such a man
could scarcely h(\ on tlic wrong side. Both the
purity of his nature and tlie rectitude of his judgment
would have k(;pt him straight.'
1853.] '^^^^ Psalms in the Bible and Prayer-book 137
Here is another letter to Mrs. Martyn, answering
questions suggested to her by his Biblical studies.
Merton : April 27, 1853.
My dear Sophy, — I am glad you think Chenn's book
worth having. The Prayer-book translation of the
Psalms is older than the present Bible translation, no
doubt. Our Prayer-book version is taken from the
' Great Bible ' (Tyndale and Coverdale's). We have
a Bible of 1578 in the library, wherein the Psalms are
word for word the same as in the present Prayer-
book version ; but the present version of Psalms in
the Bible was made of course in James's time. We
have a fine old copy of the 1640 edition. As for
the Prayer-book {i.e., the older version), being better
than the modern one, it is more difficult for me to
answer. Dr. Pusey has never spoken -about it. The
present Bible version follows the Hebrew in the
margin ; but I think the meaning is better pre-
served on the whole in the Prayer-book version, for
general use at all events. Often a verse is almost un-
intelligible in both : e.g., ex. 3, where the Bible version
follows the Hebrew closely, yet without giving a mea-
ning I suppose to ninety-nine people out of a hundred.
I never had an idea of its meaning till I heard
Dr. Pusey on it, and now I don't feel clear about it.
It is here, I think, an advantage to translate the
original verbatim, instead of giving a loose translation
to try to make sense, which often misleads, and
never can convey more than the translato7's opinion
of the passage. In xlix. 20, the Bible version is per-
haps clearer than the Prayer-book, and so one helps
the other ; but, for purposes of minute criticism, the
marginal notes of the Bible version are useful. Take
cxxxvii. 9, the Hebrew reads 'against the rock,'
138 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. iv.
which the LXX preserve in their translation, for St.
Augustine (who did not know Hebrew), makes this
characteristic comment (characteristic of the manner
in which all persons deal with Scripture who try
to understand the wonderful fulness of it) : ' Baby-
lon,' says he, ' denotes the kingdom of evil (Rev.
xvii. &c.), and the little ones are wicked thoughts,
words and deeds, sins of all kinds, which the
Christian soldier must trample under foot, but not in
his own strength ; he must dash them against the
Rock, which is Christ.' You see the literal translation
of rock instead of sto7ie, suggests this very beautiful
comment. Many persons I know call all such
criticism fanciful, and it does require judgment to
discriminate sometimes. But we have Scripture
authority for connecting the idea of the Rock with
Christ.
With reference to our present subject, I mean that
the Prayer-book version in cxxxvii. 9, wears an histor-
ical aspect only (not, however, without something
prophetical), Pusey would certainly say that we
ought to follow out the uses of particular words in
this manner : conf Keble's Sermon on Eucharistical
Offices.
I don't really feel able to say which I think the
best, and if I did, it would only be my own opinion ;
for I never heard Dr. Pusey, or any one of conse-
quence, as far as I remember, talk about it. I should
think they mutually throw light upon each other,
and they are both wonderful compositions, for the
great beauty of the language, and the general accu-
racy of the translation. I wish I could help you about
it. I am very sorry to miss you and Pena. To-
day is our first really warm day, and I should cer-
tainly ])('gin my botanical lectures with my young
1 853-] Leaving Oxford 139
teacher if I was at home. I am so sorry that D. is
going away just as I go to Alfington ; I hoped much
to have seen a good deal of him.
Best love to dear Pena,
Ever your affectionate Cousin,
J. C. P.
Coley remained at Merton until the Long Vacation of
1853 ; when his Oxford life terminated, though not his
connection with the University, for he retained his
Fellowship until his death, and the friendships he had
formed both at Balliol and Merton remained unbroken.
140 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
CHAPTER V.
THE CURACY AT ALFINGTON
1853-1855
Preparation for ordination had become Patteson's
immediate object. As has been already said, his work
was marked out. There was a hamlet of the parish of
Ottery St. Mary, at a considerable distance from the
church and town, and named Alfington.^
Some time previously, the family of Sir John Ken-
naway had provided the place with a school, which
afterwards passed into the hands of Mr. Justice Cole-
ridge, who, in 1849, there built the small church of St.
James, with parsonage, school, and house, on a rising
ground overlooking the valley of Honiton, almost imme-
diately opposite to P^eniton ; and, at the same time,
took on himself the expenses of the curacy and school,
for the vicar of the parish, the Rev. Dr. Cornish, for-
merly master of Ottery School.
The first curate of Alfington was Judge Coleridge's
son Henry, the well-known author of the beautiful Life
of St. Francis Xavier. On his leaving our communion,
it was his father's wish that Coleridge Patteson should
take the cure ; and, until his ordination, it was com-
mitted temporarily to other hands, in especial to the
Rev. Henry Gardiner, who was much beloved there.
In the spring of 1853, he had a long and dangerous
illness, wlien Coley came to nurse him, and became so
much attached to him, that his influence and uncon-
' This spelling is adopted to distinguish it from another Alphington,
nearer Exeter.
1 853-] Work at Aljingtoti 141
scious training became of great importance. The
church was served by such clerical friends as could
give their assistance on Sunday, and the pastoral care,
attention to the school, cottage visiting, &c., became
the employment of the candidate for Holy Orders, who
thus began his work under the direction of his disabled
friend.
A letter to his sister shows how he plunged into the
drudgery of the parish, doing that which always cost
him most, namely, administering rebukes ; so that it was
no wonder that he wrote with a sort of elation at having
lashed himself up to the point of giving a thorough
warning.
Feniton : July 19, 1853.
My dearest Fan, — I am going to Thorverton to-day
to stay till Thursday. Gardiner came downstairs
on Sunday, and again yesterday, and is making very
rapid strides towards perfect recovery. He even
went out yesterday for a few minutes. So I don't
mind leaving him in the least ; and indeed he is
going to Sidmouth himself, probably at the end of
the week, I have, seen him every day without one
exception, and have learnt a very great deal from
him. He has studied very closely school work,
condition of the labourer, boys' homes, best method
of dispensing charity, &c. and on all these points his
advice has been really invaluable. I feel now that
I am quite to all intents working the district. Peo-
ple ask me about their children coming to school. I
know almost all the people in the village, and a good
• many out of it, and begin to understand, in a very
small way, what a clergyman's life is. A mixture of
sorrow and pleasure indeed ! There are many very
sad cases of hypocrisy, hlthiness, and wickedness (as
142 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
I suppose there are in every district) ; and yesterday
I had a very hard-working and in one case most
painful day.
Some people had asked me to take their boy, three
years and a half old, to school — a wretched pair, with
a little savage for a son. I said I would speak to
Miss Wilkins, and put plainly before her the cha-
racter of parents and child. However, she wished
to have him, and I knew it was so far well to get
the boy away from home. But such a scene ensued !
The boy was really like a little savage ; kicked,
dashed his head against the wall, and at length, with
his nose bleeding violently, exhausted with his
violence, fell asleep. Next day, he is so bad, he is
sent home ; when the mother drives him back to
school, cursing and swearing, telling Miss Wilkins
she may kill him if she pleases ! Unluckily, I was
not in school.
Yesterday he was in school and more quiet, but
did not kneel down at prayers, and seemed like a
little beast beginning to be tamed. So, after school,
I called him to me, and putting him before my knees
asked him some questions very kindly : * Did he
know who God was ? Had he never been taught to
kneel down and say his prayers ? ' Of course he
had not, but it gave me the proper opportunity of
speaking to his parents. So having now considered
the matter for two or three days previously, having
ascertained all the facts about the people, after an
hour among some others in the village, I went right
into their cottage, and luckily found father and
mother and grandmotlicr at home, besides one or
two more (who are lodgers) in a room adjoining,
with the door open. ' I am come to talk to you
about William,' 1 began, whereu[)()n I saw the woman
1 853-] ^ stern Rebuke 143
turn quite red. However, I spoke for about ten
minutes slowly and very quietly, without any ap-
pearance (as I believe) of anger or passion at all,
but yet speaking my mind quite plainly. ' I had no
idea any child could be so neglected. Did they
suppose the school was a place where any parent
might send a child merely to get it out of the way
(of course they do, you know, most of them) ? Was
it possible that a child could be made good as if by
magic there, when it learns nothing but wicked
words at home ? Do you think you can or ought
to get rid of the duties you owe your child ? Do
you suppose that God will not require from you an
account of the way you have behaved towards him,
you who have never taught him to know who God is,
what God is, what is prayer, what is the church, who
have taught that little mouth, which God created for
praise and blessings, to curse and blaspheme ? I
know that many children do and say wicked things,
but it is in most cases owing to the neglect of their
parents, who do not speak kindly to their children,
and do what they can to keep them out of tempta-
tion, but this is a different case. Your boy is not fit
to come into the company of little Christians ! Awful
as it is to think of, he is already, at his early age,
the very dread of the parents who live near you.'
They had not a word to say, not a syllable
beyond the objection which I had already met,
that other children were bad too. I did not say what
I might have said with truth, because it is only from
Gardiner's report, not from my own knowledge —
viz., that neither father nor mother ever come to
church, and that their house is the centre of evil to
the young people of the village.
' Now,' I said, in conclusion, ' I fully meant to send
144 Life of JoJui Coleridge Pattesoji [Ch. v.
back your boy, and tell you I would examine him
six months hence, to see if he was fit to be brought
into the school, but as I do trust he may behave
better, and that this may be the means of recovering
him from this sad state, I shall take him still, unless
he behaves again very badly. But remember this —
this is the turning point in the boy's life, and all,
humanly speaking, depends on the example you set
him. What an awful thing it would be, if it pleased God
to take him away from you now, and a fit of measles,
scarlatina, or any such illness, may do it any day !
Remember that you are responsible to a very great
extent for your child ; that unless it sees you watchful
over your thoughts, words, and actions ; unless it sees
you regular and devout in prayer at home (I don't
believe they ever think of such a thing — God forgive
me, if I am wrong) ; unless it sees you habitually in
your place in God's house, you are not doing your
duty to yourselves or your child, you are not laying
up any hope or comfort whatever for the day of your
sickness and death. Now I hope you clearly un-
derstand me. I have spoken plainly — exactly what
I think, and what I mean to act upon. You know
now the sort of person you have to deal with. Good
morning,' — and thereupon I marched out, amazed at
my own pluck, and heartily glad that I had said
what I wished, and felt I ought to say.
But I need hardly tell you that this left me in a state
of no slight excitement, and that I should be much
comforted by hearing what you and Father and Joan
think of my behaviour.
Meanwhile, there arc; some very nice people; I
dearly love some of the boys and girls ; and I do pray
that this plan of a boys' home may save some from
1853.] Home for Boys 145
contamination. I, seated with Sanders last night,
found him and his wife very hearty about it.
I have only mentioned it to three people, but I
rather wish it to be talked about a little now, that
they may be curious, &c., to know exactly what I
mean to do. The two cottages, with plenty of room
for the Fley's family and eight boys, with half an
acre of garden at 11/. 5^-. the year. I shall of
course begin with only one or two boys — the thing
may not answer at all ; but everyone, Gardiner,
several farmers, and two or three others, quite poor,
in different places, all say it must work well with
• God's blessing. I do not really wish to be scheming
away, working a favourite hobby, &c., but I do
believe this to be absolutely essential. The profli-
gacy and impurity of the poor is beyond all belief.
Every mother of a family answers (I mean every
honest respectable mother of a family) : ' Oh sir, God
will bless such a work, and it is for want of this
that so much misery and wretchedness abound.' I
believe that for a year or so it will exhaust most of
my money, but then it is one of the best uses to
which I can apply it ; for my theory is, that help and
assistance is wanted in this way, and I would wish to
make most of these things self-supporting. Half an
acre more of garden, thoroughly well worked, will
yield an astonishing return, and I look to Mary as a
person of really economical habits. It is a great
relief to have poured all this out. It is no easy task
that I am preparing for myself I know that I
fully expect to be very much disappointed, but I am
determined to try it. I am determined to try and
make the people see that I am not going to give way
to everybody that asks ; but that I am going to set
on foot and help on all useful industrial schemes of
I. L
146 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v,
every kind, for people of every age. I am hard at work,
studying spade husbandry, inspectors' reports of
industrial schools, &c. I am glad you are all so
happy. I am so busy. Best love to all.
Your loving
J. C. P.
Coley was thus already serving a vigorous appren-
ticeship to pastoral work, while preparing himself for
receiving Deacon's orders. It was a trying time both
to his family and himself, for, as before said, his stan-
dard was very high, and his own strong habit of self-
contemplation made his dissatisfaction with himself
manifest in his manner to those nearest to him. He
was always gentle and unselfish ; not showing temper,
but unhappiness.
Here are letters showing a good deal of his state
of mind : the first only dated ' Saturday evening,' but
evidently written about this time, in reply to the
cautions with which his sister had replied to the above
letter of eager plans of improvement.
My dearest Fan, — Your letter has just reached me
from Honiton, and I have read it with very great
interest. I liked it better on a second perusal of
it, which showed in itself that I wanted it, for it is
quite true that I require to be reminded of the only
true principle upon which one ought to work ; and I
allow ([uite willingly that I trace interested motives
— e.g. love of self-approval or applause in actions
where such feelings ought least of all to enter. I
certainly did feel pleased with myself for speaking
plainly to those people, and I often find myself in-
dulging tlie notion that I am going to be a very
hard-working clergyman, with a remedy for all the
evils of the age, *kc. 1 f I was to hunt about for an
excuse, I might pcM'haps find one, by saying that I am
1 853-] Preparation for Ordination 147
in that state of mind which attends always, I suppose,
the anticipation of any great crisis in a person's life ;
sometimes hard work and hard thought, sometimes
(though alas ! very seldom) a real sense of the very
awful responsibility of ministering in the Church,
sometimes a less natural urging of the mind to con-
template and realise this responsibility. I was for
some time reading Wilberforce's new book, and this
involved an examination of the question in other
writers ; but lately I have laid all controversial works
aside almost entirely, and have been reading Pearson,
Bull, and the Apostolical Fathers, Clement and
Ignatius. I shall probably read Justin Martyr's
Apologies, and some treatises of Tertullian before
next month is over. I have read some part already.
There is such a very strong practical element in
these very early writings that they ought to soothe
and calm the mind ; but I cannot honestly conceal
the fact, that the theological interest for the most
part outweighs the practical teaching.
My light reading is of a new and very amusing and
interesting character — viz., books on school economy,
management of school farms, allotments, the modern
dairy, spade husbandry, agricultural chemistry.
K, W, F, C, and G, and I have great talks ; and as
they all agree with me, I think them capital judges.
I don't think at all that my present state of mind
is quite natural. You quite repeat my own words
when you say it is transitory. A calm undis-
turbed spirit of prayer and peace and contentment is
a great gift of God, and to be waited for with
patience. The motto of ' The Christian Year ' is very
beautiful. I sent the roses on Tuesday. My best
love to dear Father and Joan.
Ever your loving Brother,
L 2 J. C. P.
148 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. V.
These words ' love of self-approval ' perfectly ana-
lysed that snare of Coley's early life, against which he
so endeavoured to guard — not self-conceit, but love
of self-approval. The next letter was to his cousin
Mrs. Martyn.
Feniton Court : September 12, 1853.
My dearest Sophy, — Thank you for your kind letters.
I find I have much more to do than I expected. My
ignorance on very many quite simple matters rather
astonished my weak mind, and has done me some
good, I hope, in giving my vanity a useful lesson. I
really hardly know how to leave my books, and yet
I want to see you all again, so I think I shall start
for Dawlish to-morrow mornino- and come back with
Father on the next day. Possibly during the week
of examination I may get away for a day ; I don't
know anything yet about the place in which the
Ordination is to be held. Father and the girls
would like to be there if they could see or hear, but
they think the idea of my going to — a good one. I
know you all think and pray for me. I do not feel
very nervous, but I do not realise the great awful-
ness and responsibility of the ministerial commission,
and think myself cold and so sadly wanting in
earnestness and love. I try to anticipate the time
in thought that when the day does come, I may be
less agitated ; and I trust that, if it please God, I may
feel calm and collected then. My kindest love. I
feel very much that my natural place is among you
at this time.
Ever your affectionate Cousin,
J. C. Patteson.
So the Ember week drew on, and during it he
writes to his cousin.
1S53.] Examinatio7i for Holy Orders 149
Friday, Wallis Lodgings, Exeter : September, 1853.
My dear Sophy, — We have had a good examination, I
think ; perhaps rather harder than I expected. Wooll-
combe and Chancellor Harrington spoke to me this
morning, thanking me for my papers, and telling
me to read the Gospel at the Ordination.
I did feel very nervous last Sunday and Monday,
and the Ember Prayer in the morning (when I was
at Ottery) fairly upset me, but I don't think anybody
saw it ; now, I am thankful to say, I am* very well,
and feel thoroughly happy. I shall be nervous, no
doubt, on Sunday, and especially at reading the
Gospel, but not I think so nervous as to break down
or do anything foolish ; so when you know I am
reading — for you won't hear me, if you are in the
stalls, don't distress yourself about me.
I can't tell what it was that upset me so on Sunday
and Monday — thinking of dear Mamma and how she
had wished for this, the overwhelming kindness of
everybody about me, dear Father's simple words of
very affectionate comfort and advice.
. But I walked into Exeter, and on the way got
quite calm, and so I have been ever since. It is not
strange that the realising the near approach of what
I have for years wished for and looked forward to,
should at times come upon me with such force that I
seem scarcely master of myself; but it is only
excitement of feeling, and ought, I know, to be re-
pressed, not for a moment to be entertained as a test
of one's religious state, being by no means a desir-
able thing. I am very glad the examination is over.
I did not worry myself about it, but it was rather
hard work, and now I have my time to myself for
quiet thought and meditation.
Ever, dear Sophy, your affectionate Cousin,
J. C. Patteson.
150 Life of Jolm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. V.
The next evening he writes : —
Saturday, 5.45 P.M.
My dearest Father, —I must write my last letter as a
layman to you. I can't tell you the hundredth part
of the thoughts that have been passing through my
mind this week. There has been no return of the
excitement that I experienced last Sunday and
Monday, and I have been very happy and well.
To-day my eyes are not comfortable, from I know
not what cause, but as all the work for them is over,
it does not matter so much. I am glad to have had
a quiet time for reflection. Indeed, I do not
enough realise my great unworthiness and sinfulness,
and the awful nature of the work I am undertaking.
I pray God very earnestly for the great grace of
humility, which I so sadly need ; and for a spirit
of earnest prayer, that I may be preserved from
putting trust in myself, and may know and forget
myself in my office and work. I never could be fit
for such work, I know that, and yet I am very
thankful that the time for it has come. I do not
feel excited, yet I am somewhat nervous because it
requires an effort to meditate steadily. I have
thought so much of my early life, of dearest Mamma.
What a snare it seems, so full of transitory earthly
plans and pursuits ; such a want of earnestness
of purpose, and steady performance of duty ! God
grant my life as a clergyman may be more innocent
to myself, and more useful to others ! Tell dear
Joan the gown came tliis morning. My kind love
to her, r'an, and Jem.
Ever, my dearest I'ather,
Your affectionate and dutiful Son,
J. C. Pattjcson.
1853.] The First Sermon 151
On the ensuing day, Sunday, September 25, 1853,
John Coleridge Patteson received the Diaconate at the
hands of the venerable Bishop Phillpotts, in Exeter
Cathedral. His being selected to read the Gospel was
the proof of his superiority in the examination — no
wonder, considering the two additional years that he
had spent in preparation, and the deep study and
searchino-s of heart of the last few months.
He was established in a small house at Alfington —
the usual habitation of the Curate. And of his first
sermon there, his uncle, Sir John Coleridge, gives the
following touching description from his diary : —
^October 3, 1853. — Yesterday morning Arthur and I
went to Alfington Church, to be present at Coley's
first sermon. I don't know when I have been so
much delighted and affected. His manner of saying
the prayers was exceedingly good : his voice very
sweet and musical ; without seeming loud, it was
fully audible, and gave assurance of more power if
needed ; his manner quite unaffected, but sweet and
devout. His sermon was a very sound and good
one, beautifully delivered ; perhaps in the early parts,
from the very sweetness of his voice, and the very
rapid delivery of his words, a little more variety of
intonation would have helped in conveying his
meaning more distinctly to those who formed
the bulk of his congregation. But when he came
to personal parts this was not needed. He made
a kind allusion to me, very affecting to me ; and
when I was in this mood, and he came to the per-
sonal parts, touching himself and his new congrega-
tion, what he knew he ought to be to them and to do
for them, what they should do for themselves, and
earnestly besought their prayers, I was completely
152 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. V.
overcome, and weeping profusely. I thought of my
sweet sister, and how she would have blessed the
day had she been spared to see it ; but who can say
she did not ? I bless God that he is what he is ; and
that at least for a time, if his life be spared, I have
secured his services for my poor people at Alfington.
Many years I can hardly expect to retain him there,
but I feel sure that so long as he is there, he will be
a blessing to them.'
Fanny Patteson and Arthur Coleridge were sitting
with the Judge, and were equally overcome. When
the service was over, and the congregation dispersed,
Coley joined these three in the porch, holding out his
hands, taking theirs and shedding tears, and they with
him — tears of warm emotion too deep for words. He
was evidently surprised at the effect produced. In
fact, on looking at the sermon, it does not seem to have
been in itself remarkable, but as his cousin Arthur
says : ' I suppose the deep spirituality of the man, and
the love we bore him for years, touched the emotional
part of us.' The text was significant : ' We preach not
ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord ; and ourselves
your servants for Jesus' sake' (2 Cor. iv. 5).
The services that the newly-ordained Deacon under-
took were the ordinary Sunday ones, and Wednesday
and Friday Matins and Litany, Saints'-day prayers and
lecture, and an Advent and Lent Evensong and lecture
on Wednesdays and Fridays. These last had that
great popularity which attends late services. Dr.
Cornish used to come on one Sunday in the month to
celebrate; tlie Holy Communion (which is given weekly
in the mother Church) ; and when Mr. (lardincr was
able to be at Sidmouth, recovering from liis illness, he
used to come over on the second Sunday in the month
1853-] Parochial Work 153
for the same purpose ; and the next Lent, the Matins
were daily, and followed by a lecture.
At this time Patteson's constitutional shrinking from
general society was in full force, and he also had that
dislike to ' speaking to ' people in the way of censure,
which so often goes with tender and refined natures,
however strong ; so that if his housekeeper needed a
reproof, he would make his sister administer it, and
creep out of reach himself ; but this was one of the de-
ficiencies with which he was struggling all his life, and
fortunately it is a fact that the most effective lectures
usually come from those to whom they cost the most.
This was the hardest part of his ministry. Where
kindness and attention were needed, nothing could be
more spontaneous, sweet, or winning than his ways.
One of his parishioners, a farmer's daughter, writes :
' Our personal knowledge of him began some months
before his Ordination, owing, I suppose, to Mr.
Gardiner's severe illness ; and as he was very much
respected, Mr. Patteson's attentions won from the
first our admiration and gratitude, which went on
and on until it deepened into that love which I do
not think could have been surpassed by the Galatians
for their beloved St. Paul, which he records in his
Epistle to them (chap. iv. 15). All were waiting for
him at his Ordination, and a happy delusion seemed
to have come over the minds of most, if not all, that
he was as completely ours as if he had been ordained
expressly for us.'
It was not his own feeling, for he knew that when
his apprenticeship should be past, the place was too
small, and the work too easy, for a man in full force
and vigour, though for the sake of his father he was
glad to accept it for the present, to train himself in
154 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
the work, and to have full time for study ; but he at
that time looked to remaining in England during his
fathers lifetime, and perhaps transferring himself to
Manchester, Liverpool, London, or some large city,
where there was need of mission work among the
neglected.
His father was on the City of London Charter Com-
mission, and was in London from November to Febru-
ary, the daughters joining him there, but there was no
lack of friends around Aliington. Besides Dr. Cole-
ridge and his beloved household at Thorverton, the
family of Mr. Frank Coleridge permanently at the
Manor House at Ottery ; and Mr. Justice Coleridge's
family residing at Heath's Court, except in term
time. The Vicar of the adjoining parish of Buckerell,
the Rev. Edwin Coleridge, had married a cousin on
the Patteson side of the family, and Salveston, in
Ottery parish, was inhabited by the widow, son, and
daughter of the late Bishop William Coleridge of Bar-
badoes, so that Alfington was in the midst of an abso-
lute clan. \\\ Buckerell parish, at Deerpark, that great
old soldier, Lord Seaton, was spending the few years
that passed between his Commissionership in the Ionian
Isles and his Commandership in Ireland. He was
connected with the Coleridges through the Yonge
family, and the young people were all on familiar
cousinly terms. Coley was much liked by him ; and
often jcjincd in the rides through the lanes and to the
hills with him and his daughters, when there were
many conversations of much interest, as there could
not fail to be witli a man who had never held a
government without doing his utmost to promote God's
work in the Church and for education ; who had, more-
over, strong o|)inions derived from experience of the
Red Indians in Upper Canada — namely, that to
1
1853.] Persona I Appca ranee 1 5 5
reclaim the young, and educate them was the only hope
of making Christianity take root in any fresh nation.
It was at Deerpark, at a dinner in the late autumn
of this year 1853, that I saw Coley Patteson for the
second and last time. I had seen him before in a visit
of three days that I made at Feniton with my parents
in the September of 1844, when he was an Eton boy,
full of high spirits and merriment. I remember then,
on the Sunday, that he and I accompanied our two
fathers on a walk to the afternoon service at Ottery,
and that on the way he began to show something of his
inner self, and talked of his mother and her pleasure in
Feniton ; but it began to rain, and I stayed for the
night at Heaths Court, so that our acquaintance ceased
for that time. It was not a formal party at Deerpark,
and the evening was chiefly spent in playing at games,
thread paper verses and the like, in which Coley took
his part with spirit. If I had guessed what he was to
be, I should have observed him more ; but though,
in after years, our intercourse in letters makes us
feel intimate with one another, these two brief meetings
comprise the whole of my personal acquaintance with
one in whom I then only saw a young clergyman with
his heart in his work.
Perhaps this is the best place to mention his personal
appearance, as the portrait at the beginning of this
volume was taken not more than a year later.
He was tall and of a large powerful frame, broad in
the chest and shoulders, and with small neat hands and
feet, with more of sheer muscular strength and power
of endurance than of healthiness, so that though seldom
breaking down and capable of undergoing a great deal
of fatigue and exertion, he was often slightly ailing, and
was very sensitive to cold. His complexion was very
dark, and there was a strongly marked line between
156 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. v.
the cheeks and mouth, the corners of which drooped
when at rest, so that it was a countenance pecuHarly
difficult to photograph successfully. The most striking
feature was his eyes, which were of a very dark clear
blue, full of an unusually deep earnest, and so to speak,
inward, yet far away expression. His smile was re-
markably bright, sweet and affectionate, like a gleam of
sunshine, and was one element of his great attractive-
ness. So was his voice, which had the rich full sweetness
inherited from his mother's family, and which always
excited a winning influence over the hearers. Thus,
though not a handsome man, he was more than com-
monly engaging, exciting the warmest affection in all
who were concerned with him and giving in return an
immense amount of interest and sympathy, which only
became intensified to old friends while it expanded to-
wards new ones.
Here is a letter to his father, undated, but written
not long after his settling down at Alfington.
After expressing his regret that his voice had been
inaudible to his sister Joanna at a Friday evening
service, he proceeds : —
I did not speak very loud, because I don't think I
could do so and at the same time keep my mind at
work and thoughts collected. Anything which is so
unnatural and unusual as to make me conscious of
myself in a peculiar manner would prevent, I fear,
my getting on with my oration at all.
I am glad you think I could not have acted other-
wise with R . I quite expect ere long to find
something going on which may call for my inter-
fcnuici', and 1 specially guarded myself on this
point. Il is distinctly understood that I shall speak
to him ([uite plain!)' wliciu^ver and wherever I think
it necessary to do so. 1 do not suppose it very
1853.] Scripture Readers 1 5 7
likely that he can go on long without my being
forced to take some step ; but I really feel so very
unequal to expressing a decided opinion upon the
great question of Bible readers, that I am certainly
glad I have not taken up a hostile position hastily.
As a matter of fact, he reads in very few cottages
in my district ; tracts he distributes almost every-
where.
Now I see of course the distinction between a
man makinof it his business to read the Bible and
neighbours dropping in occasionally to read a
chapter to one who is unable to read, but where you
are distinctly told that the wish is most decidedly
to support the clergyman, and answers not unsatis-
factory are given upon main points, what difference
remains between the two cases I have put that can
furnish matter for fair ai^gument, with a man from
education, &c., disposed to take a different view of
the whole question ? Add to this, that I cannot
appeal to the universal practice of the clergy, ' Why,'
might it be said, ' do you, as a clergyman find a diffi-
culty where Mr. H. finds none ? You are, after all,
acting on your own private opinion, though you
lay claim to authority for it.' I cannot successfully
appeal to the distinctive teaching of our Church,
clear and manifest as it is, for the very words I
think conclusive contain no such evidence for him,
and so on ad infinitinn. Besides, to speak quite
what I feel at present, though only so perhaps be-
cause my view is necessarily unformed, the natural
order of things in such a district as this seems to be :
gain the affections of the people by gentleness and
showing real interest in their welfare, spiritual and
temporal ; show them in the Bible such teaching as
the Church considers necessary (but not as yet
158 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. v.
upon the authority of the Church, or at least not so
expressed to them) ; lead them gradually to the ac-
knowledgment of such truths as these : that Christ
did found a society called the Church, and appoint
to certain persons whom he sent the Ministry of
reconciliation ; that if we have no guide but mere
opinion, there will be thousands of conflicting opin-
ions in the world even amonof o-ood men, whereas
Truth can be but one, and that practically this is
found to be so ; that it is no argument to say, that
the Spirit so operated as to enlighten the reason of
each individual to this extent, viz., that it may com-
pose a Creed for him or herself ; that the Spirit acts
now in the ordinary, though not less real and
heavenly manner ; and that the infinite divisions
among sectaries proves the fact to be as I state it.
Thus I imagine the want of that external and
visible Church will be felt as necessary to fix the
Creeds 7ra<ra xaraolxr}.
But to reverse this process, to Q.r2A'i\ positive teaching
down their throats upon the authority of the Church
before they know what the Church is, or feel the
need of any power outside (so to speak) their own
minds to guide them, does seem to me in a place
like this (humanly speaking) suicidal. I cannot, of
course, tell how much preparatory teaching they
have received, but I must judge from what I see
and hear, and deal accordingly in each cottage.
Some fe\y there are to whom I can speak, as to
Churcli people in the real sense of the word, but
these are as two or three in a hundred.
One line to say whether you think me right or
wrong, would 1)(; a great comfort to me. I feel no
tcn(i(;ncy to lalilndiiiarianisin, l)ut only to see much
good in systcMUs unrecognised h)- yom" very high-
1 85 3-] Diffictiliy of TcacJiing the Poor 159
flyers. I believe that the Church teaching is repre-
sented in an unfavourable, often offensive, light to
many of our poor, because they hear words and see
things which find no response in their hearts ; be-
cause they are told, ordered almost, to believe things
the propriety of believing which they do not recog-
nise ; because the existence of wants is implied when
they have never been felt, and a system for supply-
ing them introduced which finds no room in the
understanding or affections of the patient.
But you know, dear Father, what I mean, with-
out more dusky attempts at explaining myself.
Do not many High Churchmen want a little more
* experimental religion ' in Bishop J ebb's sense of
the terms : not a religion of the feelings, but a
religion brought home to the heart, and truly felt
so as to prohibit any systematic criticism of the
feelings ?
I am late this week with my sermons, I have not
begun either of them, and may have one to-morrow
evening if my voice will do its part. I write very
long washy concerns, and find it difficult to do
otherwise, for it is a good pull upon me week after
week, and latterly I have not been able to read very
much. I shall look out two or three that I think
fair specimens, and ask you by-and-by to run your
eye over them, that you may point out the defects.
My ignorance of the Bible astonishes me, though
not so much as it ought to do. I purpose, D.V. to
commence a thorough study of the original texts.
I must try to become something of a scholar, at all
events, to make any progress in the work. I some-
times hope that, in spite of my many backslidings
and broken resolutions, some move is taking place
within, where most it is wanted ; but I live here so
i6o Life of John Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. v.
quietly, that I have Httle (comparatively) food for
some special faults. Good-bye, my dear Father,
Your affectionate and dutiful Son,
J. C. P.
* Some move taking place within ! ' It is impossible
not to pause and observe how as Confirmation and
Communion had almost palpably strengthened the
boy's struggles with his inherent faults, so the grace
conferred with the Deacon's orders is now felt to be
lifting him higher, and enabling him to see further
than he has yet seen.
Sermons were, however, never Patteson's forte.
Though his pen flowed so freely in letters, and he
could pour out his heart extemporaneously with great
depth, fervour and simplicity, his sermons were
laboured and metaphysical, as if he had taken too
much pains with them as it were, and he could not
speak to the abstract, as he could to the individual, or
when he saw the effect of his words. It was perhaps
owing to the defective system which threw two ser-
mons a week upon a young deacon at a time when his
mind was working through such an experimental
course of study and thought. Yet his people, who
had learnt to believe in little but preaching, would not
have come to prayers alone ; and the extemporary
addresses, in which he would probably have been
much more successful, would have seemed to him at
his age and at that period — twenty years back — too
presumptuous to be attempted, at any rate till he had
better learnt his ground. How his system would have
succeeded, we cannot tell. The nature of the pea-
santry of the county he had to deal with is, to be
quick witted, argumentative, and ready of retort ; open
to religious impressions, Ijut with much of self-opinion
1853.] 1 he Dev 071 Peasantry 161
and conceit, and not much reverence, and often less
conscientious in matters of honesty and morahty than
denser rustics of less apparent piety. The Church had
for a long period been at a peculiarly low ebb in the
county, and there is not a neighbourhood which has not
traditions of incredibly ignorant, careless and under-
bred — if not dissipated — clergy ; and though there were
grand exceptions, they were only respected as men,
faith in the whole system, as a system, was destroyed.
Bishop Philpotts, coming down on such elements as
these, was, in spite of his soundness of faith and grand
trenchant force of character, better as a warrior than as
a shepherd, and the controversial and political sides of
his character, though invaluable to the Church, did
not recommend him to the affections of the people of
his diocese, who could not understand the points of
the debate, and wanted the direct evidence of spiritu-
ality which they coidd appreciate.
The cholera of 1832 had been especially terrible in
the unwholesome precincts of the Devonshire sea-
ports, and the effect was a great craving for religion.
The Church v/as in no condition to avail herself of it ;
in fact, she would have viewed it with distrust as
excitement. Primitive Methodism and Plymouth
Brethrenism supplied the void, gave opportunities of
prayer, and gratified the quickened longing for devo-
tion ; and therewith arose that association of the
Church with deadness and of Dissent with life, which
infected even the most carefully tended villages, and
with which Patteson was doing his best to contend at
Alfington. The stage of gaining the people's affec-
tion and confidence, and of quickening their religious
life, he had attained ; and the further work of teaching
them that the Church alone gives security of saving
I. M
1 62 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
union with Christ, was yet to come when his inward
call led him elsewhere.
Before the never forgotten anniversary of the
autumn, the following was sent : —
Alfington : November 26.
My dearest Father, — I like you to have a line from me
on the 28th that you may feel sure we are all of us
together thinking upon dear Mamma and of the
time when it pleased God to take her from us. As
Fanny says, the 28th falls again on a Monday,
makinof the recollection of the time more vivid. I
think of her more than ever now that I am a clergy-
man : I think how she wished for this, how she would,
had it pleased God to spare her, have assisted me
by kind advice and still more by her prayers. I
realise more strongly day by day (what I never
trust myself to speak of to any but you and the girls
and Jem) and preserve a most firm belief in the
possibility, it may be probability, of departed spirits
knowing far more about us than we are apt to
suspect generally ; and without any mental effort to
excite the feeling, I do often find the thought of this
pass rapidly into my mind when I am praying God
to unite us all together hereafter in His heavenly
kingdom.
I don't think that I am running the least risk
(thank God) of cherishing morbid unhealthy feelings,
my life is too active for that, constant teaching,
visiting and reading prevent me from brooding over
my own thoughts ; but still the comparative privacy
of my life does tend to make the impressions
produced by being niucli alone, and reflecting much
very strong. I go out and visit, and don't shrink
from society ; but when I am at home, I am alone,
1853.] Benefit of Mmisterial Work 163
I.e. — when the evening hours with night schools,
parishioners, or servants, are over. I have abundant
leisure for meditation, and most happy and thankful
I am for it.
The time passes very rapidly. Day goes on after
day, and the work might seem monotonous but for
this inward discipline. My reading becomes less
discursive; but the teaching of the Bible will, I trust,
open upon me in more of its depths and fulness.
I feel it does, thank God, in a measure, and the
coming in contact with so many different minds all
helps to make religion more real and to substitute
substantial realities for words. I don't mean that
I am different from what I was ; only I think, with
great gratitude, that this life suits me, and that
whatever effect my ministerial labours had on others,
they certainly produce a salutary effect on myself.
I never worked much harder, but then very little of
it is uphill work now, I don't say that there are
not many things which remain altogether undone,
but the reading and writing on religious subjects is in
itself more interesting to me than working at classics.
Meanwhile, do not think that I am looking only at
the bright side. It is one among other signs of this
state I attempt to describe that sins long forgotten,
years of neglect, and thoughtlessness come before
my mind at times with startling force, and more
than ever I feel the need of God's grace to make
me humble. I am glad I have run on speaking of
myself so plainly to you, but the thoughts of dear
Mamma occasioned it naturally . . .
My kind love to all.
Ever your affectionate and dutiful Son,
J. C. Patteson.
M 2
164 Life of yoJm Coleridge Patteson [Ch' V.
On the 1 2th of December he says : — -
* Yesterday was a very happy day, Gardiner came to
help me and he administered the Holy Communion
to twenty-seven or twenty-eight of my own people.
This is nearly double the average before I came,
and two regular attendants are prevented by sickness
from being at Church. I trust I have not urged
the necessity of communicating unwisely upon them.
I preach on it once a month, as you know, and in
almost every sermon allude to it, and where occasion
offers, speak about it to individuals at home ; but
I try to put before them the great awfulness of it as
well as the danger of neglecting it, and I warn them
against coming without feeling really satisfied from
what I read to them, and they read in the Bible
concerning it. Six came yesterday for the first
time . . . Old William (seventy-five years of age),
who has never been a Communicant, volunteered
on Thursday to come, if I thought it right. He is,
and always has been (I am told), a thoroughly respec-
table, sober, industrious man, regular at Church once
a day; and I went to his cottage with a ticket in my
pocket to urge him to consider the danger of going
on as if content with what he did and without
striving to press onwards, &c. But, after a long
conversation on other matters, he said : "I should
like. Sir, to come to the Sacrament, if you have no
objection ;" and very happy and thankful I felt, for I
had prayed very earnestly that this old man might
be led thither by God's grace, and now it was done
without any urging on my part, beyond what he
heard in Church and what I had said to his daughter
about him.'
The next of his letters is occupied with the pecuniary
1854.] Effects of Hard Work 165
affairs of his lodging- house for farm boys, and the
obtaining of ground where they might grow vegetables
for their own use.
In February his family returned home, and his
sister Fanny thus speaks of him to a friend : —
' He does not look well ; and at first we were quite un-
easy, for his eyes were heavy and puffed, but he is
much better, and confesses that dinners and evenings
here do him good, though he quite denies the starv-
ing, and Mrs. Knowles also. She says he gets over
anxious in mind, and was completely chilled the
week he sat in the hall. No doubt his house is still
both cold and damp, and the Church the same, and
therefore the labour of reading and preaching is
very great. We are by degrees interesting him in
our winter life, having heard all his performances
and plans ; and he is very glad to have us back,
though much too busy to have missed us when we
were away. Now he has daily morning service,
with a lecture ; and if it lasts, the impression he has
made is really extraordinary. We may well pray
that he should not be vain of his works. There are
men whose whole lives seem changed, if I am to
believe what I hear.'
One more letter of this period we give, to his cousin
Arthur : —
Feniton : Thursday, 5.30 P.M.
My dear Arthur, — I write you see from Feniton,
whither I have been driven by a violent cold caught
on Saturday, and accompanied by partial loss of
voice. I got through the Sunday duty pretty well,
but have not been able to have my daily service
since, and I half fear shall not be able to do much
before next Sunday. So I came home on Wednes-
1 66 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
day (yesterday) to be looked after, there being no
person requiring my daily attendance now in my
district.
While here I have looked into the ' Correspond-
ence between Bishop J ebb and A. Knox, Esq.'
Read it if it comes in your way : it is very light, easy
reading, though dealing with important subjects,
give much matter for subsequent reflection without
making your head ache at the time, and is I think
particularly useful to clergymen. It would be a
great happiness to me if I could save you in any
way the labour and loss of time incurred in going
over much ground that I have needlessly laboured
along. You can I know always consult Fred, and
his experience is much greater than mine ; but I will
only put before you the actual result of my own
experience, and leave you to judge for yourself. I
have unquestionably lost very much time in desultory
reading in letting my eye pass over pages without
exercising my mmd, in substituting the conviction
of others (expressed in Commentaries, Sermons, &c.)
for the process of thinking out a matter myself.
There is nothing, I really think nothing, gained by
this ; and the mind from not being employed loses its
power, while one is deceived into the notion that
real work is going on.
I think that by calmly considering the two or three
great questions which lie at the bottom of every
parochial difficulty, and thinking deeply and con-
tinuously upon them, with the aid of books and
writing, so long only as they are made by thought
part of oneself, more real good will be done and
more peace of mind ensured (humanly speaking)
tlian l)y any amount of discursive reading; but I am
satisfied that unless one's own heart and life form
1854] Theory and Practice 167
the key to the understanding, the mystery of sin,
the case of the sinner, the power of the Gospel, &c.,
our preaching cannot be effective and our knowledge
of the Bible will be little more than intellectual.
Now this Correspondence is, I think, suggestive, just
what I imagine is desirable for people at our age ; it
does not save us the trouble of thought, it does not
come recommended by a name which we are so
familiar with as to command respect at once, e.g.
Pusey, Newman, Mill, Keble, &c. so that we criticise
it fairly upon its own merits, and can gather up or
cast aside the hints it gives as we think fit. If you
don't mind my coolly advising you, I would add that,
of all things I have found writing out short Essays
upon various questions is the most profitable, and I
think many abstract questions of divinity become
easier to us when reduced to practice, e.g. instead of
taking the theoretical ground about Dissent, imagine
yourself discussing the question with a moderately
well informed Dissenter, realise his position, account
for circumstances of education, defective working of
Church system, &c. ; or again, in thinking upon
Justification, it may be an help to think what was the
viodtis operandi and the status of the palsied man,
or many as after the words passed : ' Thy sins are
forgiven thee.'
It would be a very great delight to me to walk
and talk thus some day ; things become so real when
they have to be applied, not to abstractions of the
mind, but to persons. Good-bye, old fellow, and let
me hear from time to time how you go on. My
cold has inflicted this upon you.
Ever yours,
J. C. P.
1 68 Lije of John Coleridge Pattesofi [Ch. v.
Such was the young Deacon's early success. With
an affectionate brother close at hand, and friends within
easy reach, his Fellowship preserving his connection
with Oxford, his father's and brother's profession with
London, in fact, all England could offer ; and he would
easily have it in his power to take fresh holidays on the
Continent and enjoy those delights of scenery, archi-
tecture, art and music, which he loved with an apprecia-
tion and enthusiasm that could easily have become an
absorbing passion. Who could have a smoother,
easier, pleasanter career open to him than the Rev.
John Coleridge Patteson at six and twenty ?
Yet even then, the wish breathed to his mother, at
fourteen, that he might devote himself to the cause of
the heathen, lay deep in his heart ; although for the
present, he was, as it were, waiting to see what God
would have him do, whether his duty to his Father
required him to remain at hand, or whether he might
be called to minister in some great English manufac-
turing town.
Early in 1854, it became known that the Bishop of
New Zealand and Mrs. Selwyn were about to spend
a year in England. Coley's aspirations to mission
work were renewed. The thoughts excited by the
sermons he had heard at Eton twelve years previously
grew in force. He remembered his mother's promise
of her blessing, and seriously considered of offering
himself to assist in the work in the Southern Hemi-
sphere. He discussed the matter seriously with his
friend, Mr, Gardiner, who was strongly of opinion that
tlie scheme ought not to be entertained during his
father's lifetime. He acquiesced ; but if his heart and
mind were convinced, his soul and spirit were not, and
the yearnings ior tlic forefront of the battle were not
quenched, tliough there was no slackening of zeal over
I
I
1854-] Bishop Sehvyn s Visit "169
the present little flock, to make them suspect that he
had a thought beyond.
Old ties of friendship already mentioned made the
Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn promise to spend a few days
at Feniton ; and on the i8th of August, the New Zea-
land guests arrived at Feniton. After joining in the
family welcome, Coley went apart, and gave way to a
great burst of tears, due, perhaps, not so much to disap-
pointed ardour, as to the fervent emotion excited by
the actual presence of a hero of the Church Militant,
who had so long been the object of deep silent
enthusiasm. The next morning, Coley walked from
Alfington to breakfast at home, and afterwards went
into the garden with the Bishop, who led him to talk
freely of his present work in all its details. By and
by the question arose, Did it satisfy him ?
Yes, the being near his father satisfied him that it
was right for the present, but at some future time, he
hoped to do more, go perhaps to some great manufac-
turing town, or, as he could not help going on to say,
what he should like would be to go out as a missionary,
only the thought of his father withheld him.
' But,' replied the Bishop, ' if you think about doing
a thing of that sort, it should not be put off till you are
getting on in life. It should be done with your full
strength and vigour.'
Then followed an endeavour on both sides to ascer-
tain whether the inclination was a real earnest desire,
or only fancy for the romance of mission work. The
test might be whether he were willing to go wherever
he might be sent, or only where he was most interested.
Coley replied, that he was willing to work anywhere,
adding that his sister Fanny could testify whether his
desire were a real one of long standing or the mere
outcome of a fit of enthusiasm.
I/O Life of yohii Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
Therewith they separated, and Coley, going straight
to Fanny, told her what had passed : ' I could not
help it,' he said : — ' I told the Bishop of my wish.'
* You ought to put it to my father, that he may
decide it,' she answered ; ' he is so great a man that
he ought not to be deprived of the crown of the
sacrifice if he be willing to make it'
So Coley repaired to his father, and confessed his
long cherished wish, and how it had come forth to the
Bishop. Sir John was manifestly startled ; but at once
said : ' You have done quite right to speak to me, and
not to wait. It is my first impulse to say No, but that
would be very selfish.'
Coley explained that he was ' driven to speak ; ' he
declared himself not dissatisfied with his present posi-
tion, nor he hoped, impatient. If his staying at home
were decided upon, he would cheerfully work on
there without disappointment or imagining his wishes
thwarted. He would leave the decision entirely in the
hands of his father and the Bishop.
Luncheon brought the whole family together ; and
Sir John, making room for his 3'ounger daughter beside
him, said, * Fan, did you know this about Coley ? '
She answered that she had some idea, but no more
could pass till the meal was ended ; when her father
went into another room, and she followed him. The
great grief broke out in the exclamation : ' I can't let
him go;' but even as the words were uttered, they
were caught back, as it were, with — ' God forbid I
should stop him.'
The subject could not ho. pursued, for the Bishop
was public property among the frientls and neiglibours,
and tlic rest of the day was bestowed upon them. He
preached on the Sunday at Alfington, where the people
thronged to hear him, WvvV: thinking of the consequences
of his visit.
1854.] ' Bishop Selwyns Visit I'ji
Not till afterwards were the Bishop and the father
alone together, when Sir John brought the subject
forward. The Bishop has since said that what struck
him most was the calm balancing of arguments, like a
true Christian Judge. Sir John spoke of the great
comfort he had in this son, cut off as he was by his
infirmity from so much of society, and enjoying the
young man's coming in to talk about his work. He
dwelt on all with entire absence of excitement, and
added : ' But there, what right have I to stand in his
way ? How do I know that I may live another year ? '
And as the conversation ended, ' Mind,' he said ; ' I
give him wholly, not with any thought of seeing him
again. I will not have him thinking he must come
home again to see me.'
That resolution was the cause of much peace of
mind to both father and son.
After family prayers that Sunday night, when all
the rest had gone upstairs, the Bishop detained the
young man, and told him the result of the conversation,
then added : ' Now, my dear Coley, having ascertained
your own state of mind and having spoken at length
to your father and your family, I can no longer
hesitate, as far as you recognise any power to call on
my part, to invite you most distinctly to the work.'
The reply was full acceptance.
Then taking his hand, the Bishop said, *God bless
you, my dear Coley ! It is a great comfort to me to
have you for a friend and companion.'
Such was the outward and such the inward vocation
to the Deacon now within the month of the Priesthood.
Was it not an evident call from Him by whom the
whole Church is governed and sanctified ? And surely
the noble old man who forced himself not to withhold
172 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
' his son, his firstborn son ' received his crown from
Him who said : ' With blessing I will bless thee.'
And he wrote to his brother :
August 21.
My dear old Jem, — I have news for you of an unex-
pected and startling kind ; about myself : and I am
afraid that it will cause you some pain to hear what
I am to tell you. You must know that for years
I have felt a strong leaning toward missionary work,
and though my proceedings at Alfington and even
the fact of going thither might seem to militate
against such a notion, yet the feeling has been con-
tinually present to me, and constantly exercising an
increasing influence over me. I trust I have not
taken an enthusiastic or romantic view of things ;
my own firm hope and trust is that I have decided
upon calm deliberate conviction, and it is some proof
of this, that Fanny and Joan have already guessed
my state of mind, and months ago anticipated what
has now taken place. . . . And so, clear Jem, you must
help them all to bear what will of course be a great
trial. This is my trial also ; for it is hard to bear
the thought that I may be giving unnecessary pain
and causing distress without really having considered
sufficiently the whole matter. But then I think
God does not call now by an open vision ; this
thought has been for years working in my mind : it
was His Providence that brought me into contact
witli the ])ishop in times past, and has led me to
speak now. I cannot doubt tliis. I feel sure that if
I was alone in the world I should go ; the only
question that nMiiains is, ' am I bound to stay for
my dear I'athcr's sake, or for tlie sake of you all ?'
and tlu's has l)ecn answered for me by Father and
\?)54-] Aimouncement to James Patieson 173
the Bishop. And now, my dear Jem, think well
over my character, sift it thoroughly, and try to see
what there is which may have induced me to act
wrongly in a matter of so much consequence. This
is the kindest thing you can do ; for we ought to
take every precaution not to make a mistake before
it is too late. Speak out quite plainly ; do tell me
distinctly as far as you can see them my prevailing
faults, what they were in boyhood, at Eton, and
at College. It may help me to contemplate more
clearly and truly the prospect before me. We shall
have many opportunities, I trust, of discussing all
this by and bye. I shall tell Uncle John, because
some arrangements must be made about Alfington
as soon as may be. My tutor knows something
about it already ; it will soon be known to more.
But do not suppose that I imagine myself better
qualified for this work than hundreds of others more
earnest, and infinitely more unselfish, and practically
good ; but I have received an invitation to a peculiar
work, which is not offered to many others. We
must all look onwards : we must try to think of this
world as but a short moment in our existence ; our
real life and home is beyond the grave. On
September 24th I hope to be ordained Priest ;
think of me and pray for me. my dear old fellow, that
God will give me more of your own unselfishness
and care and interest for others, and teach me to
act not according to my own will and pleasure, but
solely with a view to His honour and glory. God
bless you, my dear old Jem, my dear, dear brother.
Your most loving brother,
J. C. P.
From that moment the matter was treated as fixed ;
174 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. V.
and only three days later, the intention was announced
to the relations at Thorverton.
This is the letter to the little fatherless cousin,
Paulina Martyn, who had always been devoted to
Coley, and whom he loved with a triple portion of the
affection children always gained from him. She was
only eight years old, but had the precocity of solitary
children much attended to by their elders.
Feniton : August 24, 1854.
My darling Pena, — I am going to tell you a secret, and
I am afraid it is one which will make you feel very
sorry for a little while. Do you remember my
talking to you one day after breakfast rather
gravely, and telling you afterwards it was my first
sermon to you ? Well, my darling, I was trying to
hint to you that you must not expect to go on very
long in this world without troubles and trials, and
that the use of them is to make us think more about
God and about Heaven, and to remember that our
real and unchangeable happiness is not to be found
in this world, but in the next. It was rather strange
for me to say all this to a bright happy good child
like you, and I told you that you ought to be bright
and happy, and to thank God for making you so.
It is never right for us to try to make ourselves
sad and grieve. Good people and good children
ar(,' cheerful and happy, although they may have
plenty of trials and troubles. You see how quietly
and patiently Mamma and Grandpapa and Grand-
mamma take all their trouble about dear Aunty,
that is a good k.'sson for us all. And now, my
darling, I will tell you my secret. I am going to
sail at Christmas, if I live so long, a great way from
England, right to tlie other end of the world, with
i
1854-] D eat li of Frank Coleridge 175
the good Bishpp of New Zealand. I dare say you
know where to find it on the globe. Clergymen
are wanted out there to make known the Words of
God to the poor ignorant people, and for many
reasons it is thought right that I should go. So
after Christmas you will not see me again for a very
long time, perhaps never in this world ; but I shall
write to you very often, and send you ferns and
seeds, and tell you about the Norfolk Island pines,
and you must write to me, and tell me all about
yourself, and always think of me, and pray for me,
as one who loves you dearly with all his heart, and
will never cease to pray God that the purity and
innocence of your childhood may accompany you all
through your life and make you a blessing (as you
are now, my darling) to your dear mother and all
who know you.
Ever your most affectionate,
J. C. Patteson.
A heavy grief was even now on the family. The
beloved * Uncle Frank,' so often affectionately men-
tioned, had been failing for some time. He had taken
a journey abroad, with one of his daughters, in hopes
of refreshment and invigoration, but the fatigue and
excitement were more than he could bear ; he returned
home, took to his bed, and was rapidly sinking,
' He suffered no pain, and was in a heavenly state of
mind indeed, a most blessed death bed, most supfees-
tive of comfort and peace to all who survive as a
most evident proof of what the close of life may be,
if only that life is spent faithfully in doing our duty
to God.'
as Patteson wrote to his old friend, Miss Neill.
176 Life of John Coleyidge Pattcsoii [Ch. v.
Truly, the kindly genial presence, and upright, high
principled character of Francis George Coleridge were
not a little missed among his friends. He was laid
close to that Churchyard gate, where he had passed,
every morning, with his children about him, to dedicate
his day's work at the 8 o'clock service in that beautiful
Chuch, in whose renovation and decoration he had
borne no inconsiderable part.
To the child's mother the words are : —
' I pray God that I may have chosen aright, and
that if 1 have acted from sudden impulse too much,
from love of display, or from desire to raise some
interest about myself, or from any other selfish and
unholy motive, it may be mercifully forgiven.
Now, at all events, I must pray that with a single
honest desire for God's glory, I may look straight
onwards towards the mark. I must forget what is
behind, I must not lose time in analysing my state of
mind to see how, during years past, this wish has
worked itself out. I trust the wish is from God,
and now I must forget myself, and think only of the
work whereunto I am called. But it is hard to flesh
and blood to think of the pain I am causing my dear
dear Father, and the pain I am causing to others
outside my own circle here. But they are all satis-
fied that I am doing what is right, and it would
surprise you, althougli you know them so well, to
hear the calmness with which we talk about outfits.'
After describing all this to Miss Neill, Patteson
continues : —
' And now one word about myself, which at such a
time I shoukl n(jt obtrude upon you, but that the
1854.] Letter to Miss Neill 177
visit of the Bishop of New Zealand made it necessary
for me to speak.
I am going with him to work, if all is well, at the
Antipodes, believing that the growing desire for
missionary work, which for years has been striving
within me, ought no longer to be resisted, and trust-
ing that I am not mistaken in supposing that this
is the line of duty that God has marked out for me.
You may be sure that all this is done with the
full consent and approbation of my dear Father.
He and the Bishop had a great deal of conversation
about it, and I left it entirely for them to determine.
That it will be a great trial to us all at Christmas
when we sail, I cannot conceal from myself, it is so
great a separation that I cannot expect ever to see
my dear Father, perhaps not any of those I love
best, again in this world. But if you all know that
I am doing, or trying to do, what is right, you will
all be happy about me ; and what has just been
taking place at the Manor House teaches us to look
on a little to a blessed meeting in a better place
soon. It is from no dissatisfaction at my present
position, that I am induced to take this step. I
have been very happy at Alfington ; and I hope to
be ordained Priest, on the 24th of September, with
a calm mind. I trust I am not following any
sudden hasty impulse, but obeying a real call to a
real work, and (in the midst of much self-seeking
and other alloy), not wholly without a sincere desire
to labour for the honour and glory of God,'
With this purpose full in view, Coleridge Patteson
received Ordination as a Priest in the ensuinof Ember
Week, again at the hands of Bishop Phillpotts, in Exeter
Cathedral ; where a beautiful marble pulpit is to com-
memorate the fact.
I. N
178 Life of yohu Coleridge Pattcsoii [Ch. V.
The wrench from home and friends could not but
be terrible. The sisters, indeed, were so far prepared
that they had been aware from the first of his wish
and his mother's reception of it, and when they told
their Father, he was pleased and comforted ; for truly
he was upheld by the strength of willing sacrifice.
Those were likewise sustained who felt the spirit of
missionary enterprise and sympathy, which was at that
time so strongly infused into the Church ; but the
shock was severe to many, and especially to the
brother who had been devoted to Coley from their
earliest infancy, and among his relations the grief was
great.
As to the district of Alfington, the distress was
extreme. The people had viewed Mr. Patteson as
their exclusive property, and could not forgive the
Bishop of New Zealand for, as they imagined, tempting
him away. ' Ah ! Sir,' was the school mistress's
answer to some warm words from Mr. Justice Cole-
ridge in praise of Bishop Selwyn, ' he may be — no
doubt he is — a very good man. I only wish he had
kept his hands off Alfington.' ' It would not be easy,'
says the parishioner from whom I have already quoted,
' to describe the intense sorrow in view of separation.
Mr. Patteson did all he could to assure us that it was
his own will and act, consequent upon the conviction
that it was God's will that he should go, and to exon-
erate the Bishop, but for some time he was regarded
as the immediate cause of our loss ; and he never knew
half the hard things said of him by the same people
who, when they heard he was coming, and would
preach on the Sunday, did their utmost to make them-
selves and their children look their very best.'
Indeed, the affectionate writer seems to have shared
the poor people's feeling that they had thus festally
{
1 854-] Ministrations at a Death-bed 179
received a sort of traitor with designs upon their
pastor. She goes on to tell of his ministrations to her
mother, whose death-bed was the first he attended as
a Priest. ' It would be impossible for me to say all
he was to her.' Not long before her death, when he
had just left the room, she said, ' I have not felt any
pain or weakness whilst Mr. Patteson has been here.'
I was not always present during his visits to her, and
I think their closer communings were only known to
Him above, but their effects were discernible in that
deep confidence in him on her part, and that lasting
impression on him, for you will remember, in his
letter last April, he goes back in memory to that time,
and calls it — ' a solemn scene in my early ministry.'
Solemn, indeed, it was to us all that last night of her
life upon earth. He was with her from about the
middle of the day on Monday until about four o'clock
on Tuesday morning ; when, after commending her
soul to God, he closed her eyes with his own
hands, and taking out his watch, told us the hour and
moment of her departure. He then went home and
apprised Miss Wilkins of her death in these words :
' My soul fieeth under the Lord before the morning
watch, I say before the morning watch,' and at the
earliest dawn of day, the villagers were made aware
that she had passed away by the tolling bell, and
tolled by him. This was not the only death during
his ministry among us ; but it was the first occasion
where he gave the Communion of the Sick, also w^hen
he read the Burial Service. Cases of rejoicing with
those that rejoiced as well as of weeping with those
that wept, the child and the aged seemed alike to
appreciate his goodness. In him were combined those
qualities which could inspire with deep reverence and
entire confidence. Many, many are or will be the
N 2
I So Life of yoJiJi Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
stars in the crown of his rejoicing, ' and some owe to
him under God, their deeper work of grace in the
heart and their quickening in the cUvine Hfe.'
A remarkable testimony is this to the impression
remaining after the lapse of sixteen years from a minis-
try extending over no more than seventeen months.
* Our Mr. Patteson ' the people called him to the last.
Yet, in the face of all this grief, the parting till death,
the work broken off, the life cut short midway, the
profusion of needs at home for able ministers, is it to
be regretted that Coleridge Patteson devoted himself
to the more remote fields abroad. I think we shall
find that his judgment was right. Alfington might
love him dearly, but the numbers were too small to
afford full scope for his powers, and he would have ex-
perienced the trials of cramped and unemployed ener-
gies had he remained there beyond his apprenticeship.
Nor were his gifts, so far as can be judged, exactly
those most requisite for work in large towns. He
could deal with individuals better than with masses,
and his metaphysical mind, coupled with the curious
difficulty he had in writing to an unrealised public,
either in sermons or reports, might have rendered him
less effective than men of less ability. He avoided,
moreover, the temptations, pain, and sting of
the intellectual warfare within the bosom of the
Church, and served her cause more effectually on her
borders than he could in her home turmoils. His
great and peculiar gifts of languages, seconded by his
capacity for navigation, enabled him to be the builder
up of the Melanesian Church in so remarkable a manner
that one can hardly suppose but that he was marked
out for it, and tliesc endowments would have found no
scope in an ordinary career. Above all, no man can safely
refuse the call to obey the higher leadings of grace.
1854.] Farewell to Sir y. T. W. Coleridge 181
If he deny them, he will probably fall below that
which he was before, and lose ' even that which he
seemeth to have.'
On October 22, he preached in the parish church at
Ottery a sermon which his uncle the Judge noted down
as a most sweet and influential one. ' No one can
beat him, I think, in sweetness of voice and manner.
I don't know whether his preaching is not almost too
fluent and agreeable, so as to endanger its impressive-
ness.'
The beginning of term was recalling Mr. Justice
Coleridge to London ; and on the 24th his nephew
called at Heath's Court to take leave of him, but
missed him. In the evening the following note
arrived : —
My dear Uncle, — I was sorry to miss you to-day, and
I could not get to Ottery in the afternoon. I should
like to have seen you once more.
I have written your name in a book, which Joan
and Fan will take to Ottery. The inscription is
ungrammatical, but I did not think about that. I
feel much more than I can say or write to you, my
dear Uncle, but if I let my feelings get the mastery
over me, I shall cause them all more pain when it
comes to the pinch at Christmas. Nothing causes
me more real anxiety than the leaving Alfington.
It is, I fear, very unfair upon the people, and very
hard upon you, but I do feel strongly that it is my
duty to go.
Good-bye, my dearest Uncle, I shall never cease to
think of you and love you for all your kindness and
affection to your loving and dutiful nephew,
J. C. Patteson.
The book was a magnificent copy in folio of Estins'
I«2
Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
Commentary on the Epistles, which had been given to
Coley by his father two years before. A few days
later, he wrote to his cousin Arthur Coleridge another
expression of his feelings regarding the step he had
taken in the midst of the pain it was costing to others.
Feniton : November ii, 9 A.M.
My dear Arthur, — Your letter was very acceptable,
because I am, I confess, in that state of mind
occasionally when the assurance of my being right,
coming from another, tends to strengthen my own
conviction.
I do not really doubt as I believe ; and yet,
knowing my want of consideration for others, and
many other thoughts which naturally prevent my
exercising a clear sound judgment on a matter
affecting myself, I sometimes (when I have had a
conversation, it throws me back upon analysing my
own conduct) feel inclined to go over the whole
process again, and that is somewhat trying.
On the other hand, I am almost strangely free from
excitement. I live on exactly as I did before ; and
even when alone with Father, talk just as I used to
talk, have nothing more to tell him, not knowing
how to make a better use of these last quiet
evenings.
By and bye I shall wish I had done otherwise,
perhaps, but I do not know now, that I have anything
specially reciuiring our consideration : we talk about
family matters, the movements in the theological and
political world, &c., very little about ourselves.
Jem wrote me a line to say that P. and you
meant to give me a pocket compass, a capital
present, but do not go and spend much money upon
it : I shall value it for the sake of the givers more
i8s4-] ^ote to A. D. Coleridge 183
than for Its intrinsic value ; and it will recall the
music room here, and set me humming many a Lied,
that It may be I shall never hear again.
One of all others I delight to think of for the
music's sake, and far more for the glorious thought
that it conveys. ' Then shall the righteous,' not
indeed that I dare apply it to myself (as you know),
but It helps one on, teaches what we may be, what
our two dear parents are, and somehow the inter-
vening space becomes smaller as the eye is fixed
steadily on the glory beyond.
God bless you, my dear fellow.
Ever your affectionate
J. C. P.
The Mission party intended to sail Immediately after
Christmas In the * Southern Cross,' the schooner which
was being built at Southampton for voyages among the
Melanesian isles. In expectation of this, Patteson went
up to London in the beginning of December, when the
admirable crayon likeness was taken by Mr. Richmond,
an engraving from which Is here given. He then
took his last leave of his uncle, and of the cousins
who had been so dear to him ever since the old days
of daily meeting In childhood ; and Miss Neill, then a
permanent Invalid, notes down: 'On December 13,
I had the happiness of receiving the Holy Communion
from dear Coley Patteson, and the following morning
I parted from him, as I fear, for ever. God bless and
prosper him, and guard him in all the dangers he will
encounter ! ' He wrote thus soon after his return : —
Feniton : December 22, 1854.
My dear Miss Neill, — I began a note to you a day or
two ago, but I could not go on with it, for I have
184 Life of yoJui Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
had so very much to do in church and out of it,
parochiahzing, writing sermons, &c. It makes
some httle difference in point of time whether I am
living here or at Alfington, and so the walking about
from one house to another is not so convenient for
writing letters as for thinking over sermons.
I need not tell you what a real happiness and
comfort it is to me to have been with you again and
to have talked so long with you, and most of all to
have received the Communion with you. It is a
blessed thought that no interval of space or time
can interrupt that Communion of the Spirit, and
that we are one in Him, though working in different
corners of the Lord's field.
I want to look you out a little book or two ; and
Fanny has told you that if ever my picture is photo-
graphed, I have particularly desired them to send
you a copy with my love. Your cross I have
now round my neck, and I shall always wear it ; it
will hang there with a locket containing locks of
hair of my dear Father and Mother, the girls, and
Jem.
You will be glad to hear that they all seem
cheerful and hearty. Fan is not well, but I do not
see that she is depressed or unhappy. In fact, the
terrible events of the war prove a lesson to all, and
they feel, I suppose, that it might be far worse, and
that so long as I am doing my duty, there is no
cause for sorrow.
Still there will be seasons of loneliness and sad-
ness, and it seems to me as if it always was so in the
case of all the people of whom we read in the Bible.
Our Lord distinctly taught His disciples to expect it
to be so, and even experienced this sorrow of heart
Himself, filh'ng up tlic full measure of His cup of
1854.] Parting from Alfingtori 185
bitterness. So I don't learn that I ought exactly to
wish it to be otherwise, so much is said in the Bible
about being made partaker of His sufferings, only
I pray that it may please God to bear me up in the
midst of it. I must repeat that your example is
constantly before me, as a witness to the power that
God gives of enduring pain and sickness it is indeed,
and great comfort it gives me. He is not indeed
keeping you still in the world without giving you a
work to do, and enabling you from your bed of
sickness to influence strongly a circle of friends.
God bless you for all your kindness to me, and
watchfulness over me as a child, for your daily
thought of me and prayers for me, and may He
grant that I may wear your precious gift not only 07i
but in my heart.
Always your very affectionate
J. C. Patteson.
P.S. — I do not expect to sail for three weeks ; this
morning I had a line about the ship, and they say
that she cannot be ready for a fortnight.'
On Christmas-day, he was presented with a Bible,
subscribed for by the whole Alfington population.
Here is a sentence from his letter of acknowledgment.
' If these poor needy souls can, from love to a fellow
creature whom they have known but a few months,
deny themselves their very crum of bread to show
their affection, what should be our conduct to Him
from whom we have received all things, and to
whom we owe our life, strength, and all that we
possess ? '
The farewell service was said by one of these poor
old people to be like a great funeral. Sexagesima
1 86 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
Sunday was Sir John's sixty-sixth birthday, and it
was spent in expectation that it would be the last of
the whole party at home, for on the Monday Sir John
was obliged to go to London for a meeting of the
Judicial Committee. The two notes his son wrote
during his absence are, perhaps to prove good spirits,
full of the delights of skating, which were afforded by
the exceptionally severe frost of February 1855, which
came opportunely to regale with this favourite pastime
one who would never tread on solid ice again. He
wrote with zest of the large merry party of cousins
skating together, of the dismay of the old housekeeper
when he skimmed her in a chair over the ice, sighing,
out, in her terror, ' My dear man, don't ye go so fast,'
with all manner of endearing expressions of the
little boys to whom he threw nuts to be scrambled for,
and of his own plunge through the thinner ice,
when, regardless of drenched garments, he went on
with the sport to the last, and came home with clothes
frozen stiff as a board.
He was not gone when his father and brother came
home on the twenty-sixth, prepared to go with him to
Southampton.
* Father comes from town to-day,' he writes to his
uncle at Eton, ' so that I hope to have one quiet
day more with him. It is quite astonishing to
myself that I am so calm and so happy, I trust that
I may look upon this as one token that I have
accepted a work to which I am indeed called.
Sometimes I almost tremble at the thought of my
unfitness for such a work, but God's strength will no
doubt be made perfect in my weakness. I am in
His hands, and so all will be well. Have you half a
dozen copies of the I bishop's two letters that you
1855.] Last Days at Houie 187
printed for private circulation, dated May 30, 1850.
They will give some of my acquaintance and
parishioners a fair idea of the man I am going to
work under. It is a very great happiness to me that
I can feel that even I am in some small degree con-
tributing to strengthen the hands of such a man.'
The note to his cousin Arthur written at this time
thus ends : ' We worked together once at Dresden.
Whatever we have acquired in the way of accom-
plishments, languages, love of art and music, every-
thing brings us into contact wnth somebody, and
gives us the power of influencing them for good, and
all to the glory of God.'
Many were touched when, on the first Sunday in
Lent, as Sir John Patteson was wont to assist in
Church by reading the Lessons, it fell to him to pro-
nounce the blessing of God upon the patriarch for his
willing surrender of his son.
After all, the Southern Cross was detected in
leaking again, and as she was so small that the Mission
party would have been most inconveniently crowded
for so long a voyage, the Bishop was at length per-
suaded to relinquish his intention of sailing in her, and
passages were taken for himself, Mrs. Selwyn, Mr.
Patteson, and another clergyman, in the Duke of
Portland, which did not sail till the end of March,
when Patteson was to meet her at Gravesend.
Thus he did not depart till the 25th. ' I leave
home this morning I may say, for it has struck
midnight,' he wrote to Miss Neill. ' I bear with me
to the world's end your cross, and the memory of
one who is bearing with great and long tried
patience the cross that God has laid upon her.'
1 88 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. v.
He chose to walk to the coach that would take him to
join the railway at Cullompton. The last kisses were
exchanged at the door, and the sisters watched him out
of sight, then saw that their Father was not standing
with them. They consulted for a moment, and then one
of them silently looked into his sitting room, and saw
him with his little Bible, and their hearts were com-
forted concerning him. After that family prayers
were never read without a prayer for the New
Zealand Mission containing a clause for Missionaries,
* especially the absent member of this family.'
He went up to his brother's chambers in London,
whence a note was sent home the next day to his father.
' I write one line to-night to tell you that I am, thank
God, calm and even cheerful. I stayed a few
minutes in the churchyard after I left you, picked a
few primrose buds from dear mamma's grave, and
then walked on.
At intervals I felt a return of strong violent
emotion, but I soon became calm ; I read most of
the way up, and felt surprised that I could master
my own feelings so much.
How much I owe to the cheerful calm composure
which you all showed this morning ! I know it must
have cost you all a great effort. It spared me a great
one.'
On the 27th the brothers went on board the ' Duke
of Portland,' and surveyed the cabins, looking in at the
wild scene of confusion sure to be presented by an
emigrant ship on the last day in harbour. A long
letter with a minute description of the ship and the ar-
rangements ends with : ' I have every blessing and
comfort. Not one is wanting. I am not in any ex-
citement, I think, certainly I do not believe myself
1855.] Embarkation 189
to be in such a state as to involve a reaction of feel-
ing. Of course if I am seedy at sea for a few days
I shall feel low spirited also most likely, and miss
you all more in consequence. But that does not
go below the surface. Beneath is calm tranquil
peace of mind.'
On the 28th the two brothers joined the large
number of friends who went down with the Mission
party, among them Mr. Edward Coleridge.
Parting notes were written from on board to all the
most beloved ; to little Paulina, of bright hopes, to
Miss Neill of her cross ; to Arthur the German greet-
ing, ' Lebe zuohl, dock nicht aicf EwigkeW, — to Mr.
Justice Coleridge
March 28, 1855.
My dear Uncle, — One line more to thank you for all
your love and to pray for the blessing of God upon
you and yours now and for ever.
We sail to-day. Such letters from home, full of
calm, patient, cheerful resignation to His will.
Wonderfully has God supported us through this
trial. My kind love to Arthur. Always, my dear
Uncle, Your affectionate, grateful Nephew,
John Coleridge Patteson.
Perhaps the frame of mind in which Coley left
England can best be gathered from the following
extract from a letter to his father from his uncle
Edward.
' While on board I had a good deal of quiet talk
with him, and was fully confirmed by his manner
and words, of that which I did not doubt before,
that the surrender of self, which he has made, has
been put into his heart by God's Holy Spirit, and
190 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. V.
that all his impulses for good are based on the firm
foundation of trust in God, and a due appreciation
of his mortal, as well as professional condition. I
never saw a hand set on the plough stead with more
firmness, yet entire modesty, or with an eye and
heart less turned backwards on the world behind.
I know you do not in any way repine at what you
have allowed him to do ; and I feel sure that ere long
you wall see cause to bless God not only for having
given you such a son, but also for having put it into
his heart so to devote himself to that particular
work in the Great Vineyard.'
About 5 P.M. the ' Duke of Portland' swung round
with the tide, strangers were ordered on shore, Cole-
ridge and James Patteson said their last farewells, and
while the younger brother went home by the night-
train to carry the final greetings to his father and
sisters, the ship weighed anchor and the voyage was
begun.
IS55-] ^9i
CHAPTER VI.
THE VOYAGE AND FIRST YEAR
1855-1856
When the See of New Zealand was first formed,
Archbishop Howley committed to the care of the
first Bishop the multitudinous islands scattered in
the South Pacific. The technical bounds of the
diocese were not defined ; but matters were to a certain
degree simplified by Bishop Selwyn's resolution only
to deal with totally heathen isles, and whatever supe-
riority the authorised chief pastor might rightfully
claim, not to confuse the minds of the heathen by the
sight of variations among Christians, and thus never y
to preach in any place already occupied by Missions,
a resolution from which he only once departed, in the
case of a group apparently relinquished by its first
teachers. This cut off all the properly called Poly-
nesian isles, whose inhabitants are of the Malay type,
and had been the objects of care to the London
Mission, ever since the time of John Williams ; also
the Fiji Islands ; and a few which had been taken in
hand by a Scottish Presbyterian Mission ; but the
groups which seem to form the third fringe round the
north-eastern curve of Australia, the New Hebrides,
Banks Islands, and Solomon Isles, were almost
entirely open ground, with their population called
Melanesian or Black Islanders, from their having
much of the Negro in their composition and com-
192 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
plexion. These were regarded as less quick but more
steady than the Polynesian race, with somewhat the
same difference of character as there is between the
Teuton and the Kelt. The reputation of cannibalism
hung about many of the islands, and there was no
doubt of boats' crews having been lost among them,
but in most cases there had been outrage to provoke
reprisals.
These islands had as yet been little visited, except
by Captain Cook, their first discoverer, and isolated
Spanish exploring expeditions ; but of late whalers and
sandal wood traders, both English and American,
had been finding their way among them, and too often
acting, as irresponsible adventurous men of a low class
are apt to do, towards those whom they regard as an
inferior race.
Mission work had hardly reached this region. It
was in attempting it that John Williams had met his
death at Erromango, one of the New Hebrides ; but
one of his best institutions had been a school in one
of the Samoan or Navigators' Islands, In which were
educated young men of the native races to be sent to
the isles to prepare the way for white men. Very
nobly had these Samoan pupils carried out his inten-
tions, braving dislike, disease and death in the islands
to which they were appointed, and having the more
to endure because they came without the prestige of a
white man. Moreover, the language was no easier to
them than to him, as their native speech is entirely
different from the Melanesian; which is besides broken
into such an extraordinary number of different dialects,
varying from one village to another in an island not
twenty miles long, that a missionary declared that the
people must have come straight from the Tower of
Babel, and gone on dividing their speech ever since.
1848.] Cruise of the ' Undme^ 193
Just at the time of the formation of the See of New
Zealand, the excitement caused at home by Williams's
death had subsided, and the London Mission's funds
were at so low an ebb that so far from extending their
work, they had obliged to let some of it fall into
abeyance.
All this came to the knowledge of the Bishop of
New Zealand while he was occupied with the cares of
his first seven years in his more immediate diocese,
and in 1848, he made a voyage of inspection in
H.M.S. ' Dido.' He then perceived that to attempt the
conversion of this host of isles of tropical climate
through a resident English clergyman in each, would
be impossible, besides which he knew that no Church
takes root without native clergy, and he therefore
intended bringing boys to New Zealand, and there
educating them to become teachers to their countrymen.
He had lately established, near Auckland, for the
sons of the colonists, St. John's College, which in 1850
was placed under the Reverend Charles John Abra-
ham, the former Eton master, who had joined the
Bishop to act as Archdeacon and assist in the scheme
of education ; and here it was planned that the young
Melanesians should be trained.
The Bishop possessed a little schooner of twenty-two
tons, the ' Undine,' in which he was accustomed to make
his expeditions along the coast ; and in August 1849, he
set forth in her, with a crew of four, without a weapon
of any sort, to ' launch out into the deep, and let down
his nets for a draught' Captain Erskine of H.M.S.
' Havannah ' readily undertook to afford him any assist-
ance practicable, and they were to cruise in company,
the ' Undine ' serving as a pilot boat or tender on coasts
where the only guide was ' a few rough sketches
collected from small trading vessels.'
I. o
194 Life of y oh )i Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. vi
They met near Tanna, but not before the Bishop
had been In Dillon's Bay, on the Island of Erromango,
the scene of Williams's murder, and had allowed some
of the natives to come on board his vessel as a first
step towards friendly Intercourse. The plan agreed
on by the Bishop and the Captain was to go as far
North as Vate, and return by way of the Loyalty Isles,
which fringe the east coast of New Caledonia, to
touch at that large Island, and then visit the Island of
Pines, at Its extreme south point, and there enquire
into a massacre said to have taken place. This was
effected, and In each place the natives showed them-
selves friendly. From New Caledonia the Bishop
brought away a pupil named Dallup, and at two of
the Loyalty Islands, Nengone or Mare, and LIfu,
where Samoan teachers had excited a great desire for
further Instruction, boys eagerly begged to go with
him, and two were taken from each, In especial Slapo,
a young Nengon^ chief eighteen or nineteen years
old, of very pleasing aspect, and with those dignified
princely manners which rank Is almost sure to give.
The first thing done with such lads when they came
on board was to make clothes for them, and when
they saw the needle employed In their service, they
were almost sure to beg to be taught the art, and most
of them soon became wonderfully dexterous In It.
On the Island of Pines, so called from the tower-like
masses of the Norfolk pine on the shores, was at that
time the French Bishop of New Caledonia, the O211, oiu,
as the natives called him and his countrymen, for whom
they had little love. After an Interview between the
two Bisho[)s, the 'Undine' returned to New Zealand,
where the native boys were brought to St. John's
College. The system of education there combined
aqriculLural labour and printing with study, and the
authorities and the boys shared according to their
1852.] Siapo 195
strength in both, for there was nothing more prominent
in the Bishop's plan than that the coloured man was
not to be treated as a mere hewer of wood and drawer
of water, but, as a Maori once expressed the idea :
' Gentleman-o^entleman thought nothine that oueht
to be done at all too mean for him ; pig-gentleman
never worked.' The whole community, including the
ladies and their guests, dined together in hall.
The five boys behaved well, Siapo being a leader
in all that was good, and made advances in Christian
knowledge ; but it was one of the Bishop's principles
that none of them should be baptized till he had
proved whether his faith were strong enough to
resist the trial of a return to his native home and
heathen friends. The climate of New Zealand is far
too chilly for these inhabitants of tropical regions, and
it was absolutely necessary to return them to their
homes during the winter quarter from June to August.
The scheme therefore was to touch at their islands,
drop them there, proceed then further on the voyage,
and then, returning the same way, resume them, if they
were willing to come under instruction for Baptism
and return to the college. In the lack of a common
language. Bishop Selwyn hoped to make them all
learn English, and only communicate with one another
in that.
The ' Undine,' not being large enough for the purpose,
was exchanged for the ' Border Maid '; and in the course
of the next three years an annual voyage was made,
and boys to the number of from twelve to fourteen
brought home. Siapo of Nengone was by far the
most promising scholar. He was a strong influence,
when at home, on behalf of the Samoan teachers, and
assisted in the building of a round chapel, smoothly
floored, and plastered with coral lime. In 1S52 he was
o 2
y
196 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
baptized, together with three of his friends, in this chapel,
in his own island, by the Bishop, in the presence of a
thousand persons, and received the name of George.
When the ' Border Maid ' returned, though he was
convalescent from a severe illness, he not only begged
that he might come back, but that the young girl to
whom he was betrothed might be taken to New Zealand
to be trained in Christian ways. Ready consent was
given, and the little Wabisane, and her companion
Wasitutru (Little Chattering Bird), were brought on
board, and arrayed in petticoats fashioned by the
Bishop's own hands, from his own counterpane, with
white skirts above, embellished with a bow of scarlet
ribbon, the only piece of finery to be found in the
' Border Maid.' The Rev. William Nihill had spent
the period of this trip at Nengone, and had become
deeply interested in the people. The island was then
thought likely to become a centre whence to work on
adjacent places ; but to the grief and disappointment
of all, George Siapo did not live through the summer
at St. John's. He had never recovered his illness at
home, and rapidly declined; but his faith burned brighter
as his frame became weaker, and his heart was set on
the conversion of his native country. He warmly
begged Mr. Nihill to return thither, and recommended
him to the protection of his friends, and he wished his
own brother to become scholar at St. John's. His
whole demeanour was that of a devoted Christian, and
when he died, in the January of the year 1853, he might
be regarded as the first fruits of the Melanesian Church.
Since Mr. Nihill was about to return to Nengone, and
there was a certain leaven of Christianity in the place,
the girls were not subjected to the probation of a return
before baptism, but were christened Caroline and Sarah,
after Mrs. Abrahani and Mrs. Selwyn.
Another very satisfactory pupil was little Umao.
,853.] Umao 197
An English sailor in a dreadful state of disease had been
left behind by a whaler at Erromango, where the little
Umao, a mere boy, had attached himself to him, and
waited on him with the utmost care and patience, though
meeting with no return but blows and rough words.
The man moved to Tanna, where there are mineral
springs highly esteemed by the natives, and when the
' Border Maid ' touched there, in 1851, he was found
in a terrible condition, but with the little fellow faith-
fully attending him. The Englishman was carried to
Sydney, and left in the hospital there ; but Umao
begged not to be sent home, for he said his parents
cruelly ill-used him and his brothers, and set them to
watch the fire all night to keep off evil spirits ; so,
when New Zealand became too cold for him, he was
sent to winter at the London Society's station in
Anaiteum. His sweet friendly nature expanded under
Christain training, but his health failed, and in the
course of the voyage of 1853 he became so ill that his
baptism was hastened, and he shortly after died in the
Bishop's arms.
Two more boys, cousins, from Lifu, also died.
There never was any suspicion or displeasure shown
among the relatives of these youths. Their own habits
were frightfully unhealthy ; they were not a long-
lived people, and there was often great mortality
among them, and though they were grieved at the loss
of their sons, they never seemed distrustful or un-
grateful. But it was evident that, even in the summer
months, the climate of New Zealand was trying to
these tropical constitutions, and as it was just then
determined that Norfolk Island should no lonofer be
the penal abode of the doubly convicted felons of
Botany Bay, but should instead become the home of
the descendants of the mutineers of the ' Bounty ' who
had outgrown Pitcairn's Island, the Bishop cast his eyes
igS Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. VI.
upon It as the place most likely to agree alike with
English and Melanesian constitutions, and therefore
eminently fitted for the place of instruction.
The expenses of the voyages in the ' Border Maid '
had been met partly by the Eton Association, and
partly by another association at Syndey, where a warm
interest in these attempts had been excited and main-
tained by the visits of Bishop Selwyn, who usually
visited Australia, while the lads were wintering at
their homes. But the ' Border Maid ' was superan-
nuated, nor had she ever been perfectly fitted for the
purpose ; and when, in 1853, the Bishop was obliged to
come to England to take measures for dividing his
diocese, he also hoped to obtain permission to establish
a Melanesian school on Norfolk Island, and to obtain
the means of building a schooner yacht, small enough
to be navigated in the narrow, shallow creeks separating
the clustered islets, and yet capacious enough for the
numerous passengers. In the meantime Mr. Nihill
went to Nengone with his wife and child. His lungs
were much affected, but he hoped that the climate
would prolong his power of working among the Chris-
tian community, who heartily loved and trusted him.
Other fellow-labourers the Bishop hoped to obtain at
home, though it was his principle never to solicit men
to come with him, only to take those who offered them-
selves ; but all the particulars of the above narration
had been known to Coley Patteson through the Bishop's
correspondence with Mr. Edward Coleridge, as well as
by the yearly report put forth by the Eton Association,
and this no doubt served to keep up in his heart the
flame that had burnt unseen for so many years, and to
determine its direction, though he put himself unreser-
vedly at the Bisliop's disposal, to work wherever he
miirht be sent.
Voyage in the ' Duke of Portland ' 199
The means for the mission ship ' Southern Cross '
were raised.^ She was built at Southampton by
Messrs. Wigram, and, after all the delays, sailed on
the very same day as the ' Duke of Portland.'
Meantime here are a few extracts from Patteson's
journal-letter during the voyage. Sea sickness was very
slightly disabling with him ; he was up and about in a
short time, and on the 8th of April was writing : —
* What a day this has been to me, the twenty-eighth an-
niversary of my baptism to begin with, and then Easter
Day spent at sea ! I must tell you how I spent it.
The weather is not quite warm enough yet to have ser-
vice on deck, so hitherto the saloon has been made
our church : two rows of benches on each side of the
table, cabin passengers in their cabins with doors open,
making a kind of pew. Bishop at the door of his cabin,
C. and I at door of mine; service 10.30 a.m. I
read prayers and Litany ; C. the lessons, Bishop the
Communion Service, before which we sang the
Easter hymn. J. C. P. precentor and leader of the
choir. Bishop preached extempore, excellently, of
course. The table in his cabin was spread with a
linen cloth, and a magnificent jewelled silver-gilt
service of plate (the gift of divers friends for the
Melanesian Mission) upon it. Communicants, about
nine or ten, came into the cabin. I administered
1 Partly thus. My mother had always been eagerly interested in the
Mission, and when on the day of my father's funeral something brought
before her the request for the vessel, she said to Mrs. Keble how much
she should like to see the sum raised by contributions from those who
liked the Heir of Redely ffe, then in its first flush of success. Mrs. Keble,
pleased to see that anything could interest her, warmly took up the idea,
other friends joined, and by their great kindness a sum was raised suffi-
cient to be at least worth presenting to the Bishop by the hands of a
little three-year-old girl, just able to know that she had seen ' man,' and
given him ' letter,' though only later able to value his blessing.
200 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
the Cup. Then school, Mrs. Sehvyn taking girls ;
and a kind of mixed evening service at eight, reading
Psalms and lessons all round, and then many Church
prayers at the Bishop's discretion ; but the work of
the ship does not allow of a regular evening service.
Ap7'il \\th, 9.30. — I have just seen the Southern
Cross for the first time, and from this point, about
20° south lat., we shall see most of the constellations
of both hemispheres. It is a perfect cross, four
stars, but not very bright, nor very large, certainly
not so striking as the Great Bear or Orion, but still
the shape is remarkable.
I fall be well I have to preach to-morrow, which same
thing I don't much like. It is all very well holding
forth to those good simple folk at Alfington, but
before a live Bishop is another thing. Still I must
begin to do lots of things I don't quite like, and I
am sure I have been spoilt quite long enough, not
that I should find it at all difficult to recommence
that process.
Apial 20th, lat 4° N., long. 25° W. — Rather hot. It
is very fine to see all the stars of the heavens almost
rise and pass overhead and set — Great Bear and
Southern Cross shining as in rivalry of each other,
and doth hemispheres showing forth all their glory.
Only the Polar Star, that shines straight above you,
is gone below our horizon ; and One alone knows how
much toil, and perhaps sorrow, there may be in store
for me before I see it again. But there is and will
be much happiness and comfort also, for indeed I
have great peace of mind, and a firm conviction
that I am doing what is right ; a feeling that God is
directing and ordering the course of my life, and
whenever I take the only true view of the business
of life, I am happy and cheerful.
1855O ^^^ Iceberg 20 T
May 10. — It Is, I find, quite settled, and was
indeed always, that I am to go always with the
Bishop, roving about the Melanesian department, so
that for some years, if I live, I shall be generally six
months at sea. And not little to my delight, I find
that the six winter months {i.e. your summer months)
are the ones that we shall spend in sailing about the
islands within or near the tropics, so that I shall
have little more shivering limbs or blue hands,
though I may feel in the long run the effect of a
migratory swallow-like life. But the sea itself is a
perpetual tonic, and when I am thoroughly accus-
tomed to a sea life, I think I shall be better almost
on board ship.
This seems the place for Bishop Selwyn's impres-
sion, as written to a friend at this very time. ' Coley
Patteson is a treasure which I humbly set down as a
Divine recompense for our own boys.^ He is a good
fellow, and the tone of his mind is one which I can
thoroughly enjoy, content with the rh ail present, yet
always aiming at a brighter and better future.'
June 1 2. — It was pitch dark last night, blowing and
raining, and some anxiety was felt in consequence of
our having passed an iceberg. Two men were
stationed on the forecastle Instead of one, and the
captain was awake all night, I believe. I do not
find that the possibility of any such accidents occur-
ring disturbs me. God watches over us here as well
as on land. Awful indeed would it be to dash at
ten knots an hour against an iceberg. No time to
think of death before every soul would experience it.
In low latitudes this Is the chief cause of anxiety, as
of course these floating fellows cannot be marked on
charts like rocks, and probably many unaccountable
^ Left at home for education.
202 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. VI,
losses of ships may be attributable to this cause.
Yesterday, at 5.30 p.m., which answered to 1 1 a.m. in
England, we met in the Bishop's cabin, and held a
short service. Before we began it, we thought over
the names of those who were most likely to be
thinking of us at home and in New Zealand, and in the
little printed prayer which you all have, and which
the Bishop used, he introduced whatever was neces-
sary to remind us of all dear absent friends. Just
before we went to the cabin, J. wrote a note to the
Alnngtonians, which Fan must take over and read
to them — i.e., read it in several of the cottages where
she knows the people still feel an interest in me.
ftme 14. — It is too rough to attempt any work,
and I fear I shall write almost illegibly, the vessel
is rolling so heavily. Yesterday it blew a gale
of wind, and the night before it was at times
very stormy. One heavy sea at 4.45 a.m. almost
cleared the decks, carried away the strong seat, with
all the paint boxes, white lead, &c., inside, from the
poop, knocked the meat safe over, tore a plank
fifteen feet long out of the side of the ship (above
the water-mark, luckily), and broke right through the
bulwarks in two other places, knocked up the cuddy
skylight, and poured into the cuddy, &c. It only
came a little into my cabin, and did not flood it, though
it is still very soppy in one place. The captain
said, ' I never remember this vessel being struck by
such a heavy sea.' Not that there was any danger,
but the wind and sea were working up, and getting
furious. It was a cross sea too, coming in upon us
from different directions. At last we lay to, i.e.,
did not attemj^t to progress, as the wind was from
the north, and we could not sail with such a o-ale
upon our beam, so we just drifted, with two or three
1855-] ^ Gale 203
small sails only, before the wind, rolling- very heavily.
The Bishop and I spent the day in carpentering in
my room, every now and then being shot like shuttle-
cocks backwards and forwards, no matter whether
we were on hands or knees, standing or sitting.
Nothing gave way in my cabin. Having warily
tilted up my bed very much, so as to be lying as it
were at an angle of the letter V between the ship's
side and the wall, I slept like a top all night long.
Inasmuch as these two days I have felt especially
hungry and quite free from sickness, I begin to
think myself a sailor. I think it would have as-
tonished you who live at home at ease to have been
with me on deck yesterday for the few minutes I
ventured on the poop, holding tight by a rope, the
wind and rain rattling on my waterproof cap and
coat, whistling and singing through the ropes and
ring-bolts like the humming of the electric wires,
only much louder and shriller, the sea broken down
by the rain and thrashed up again by the wind, with
the planks groaning and creaking, and the sea
running very high. I think that if you had pos-
sessed sea legs to reach the poop and hold on when
you were there, you would have thought the present
condition of the good ship ' Duke of Portland,'
slightly unsafe. To-day it has been better, but the
wind is getting up now.
June 18. — You must think of us at 8 p.m. on
Sundays — ^just at 8.20 a.m. before you come down
to prayers. The Bishop has a service in the College
chapel; then, after all the 'runners' (clergy who have
district chapels) have returned, chanting Psalms, and
reading collects, which bear especially on the subject
of unity, introducing the special Communion thanks-
giving for Whitsunday, and the Sanctus, and the
204 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
Prayer for Unity in the Accession Service. I feel that
it must be an impressive and very happy way of
ending the Sunday, and you will be at Sunday
prayers at the other end of the world praying with us.
fiuie 2 2. — If old F. (his nurse) could have seen
the circumstances under which ' dear Mr. Coley '
had to make his toilette this morning, she would
have groaned within her. Impi'-imis, the dead-
lights being up, there was just a glimpse of light
from the bull's-eye, and that was all. Secondly,
about two-thirds of the floor of the cabin have been
saturated with wet for a good while, since the heavy
sea struck us, and generally I do not go on the
swampy part of my territory ; but of course, in a
rolling sea, I go where the sea chooses, and not
where I choose, so this was not over pleasant.
Thirdly, no water for washing, as the cask had been
upset in the night ; but subsequently, at 8.30, I did
get my washing and tooth water when dressed.
Fourthly, the wind blowing from aft whistled through
my cabin, creating no slight inconvenience to fingers
and toes, already quite cold enough. Fifthly, I had
not a dry shoe or slipper in the place. Some-
how, none of these things seem to matter now ; I was
dressed soon and on deck, and sea-water never gives
any one a cold. I tell you these little things, not as
if I thought them worth telling, and you see I am
writing in fun ; but I know you will like to hear
everything.
filly 3. — Still at sea. As soon as we rounded
the North Cape on Friday, June 29, a contrary
wind sprang up, and we have been beating
about, tacking between North Cape and Cape Brett
ever since. Fine sunny weather and light winds,
Init always from the south. To me it is a matter of
1 855-] ^^^ sight of Land 205
entire indifference ; I am quite ready to go ashore, but
do not mind a few more days at sea. The dimate
is dehghtful, thermometer on deck 55° to 60°, and
such glorious sunsets ! There is really something
peculiar in the delicacy of the colours here — faint
pink and blue, and such an idea of distance is given
by the great transparency of the air. It is full moon
too now, and I walk the deck from eleven to twelve
every night with no great coat, thinking about you
all and my future work. Last night the Bishop was
with me, and told me definitely about my occupation
for the time to come. All day we have been
slowly, very slowly, passing along from the north
headland of the Bay of Islands to Cape Brett, and
along the land south of It. A fine coast it is, full of
fine harbours and creeks, the bay itself like a large
Torbay, only bolder. Due south of us is the Bream
headland, then the Barrier Islands. We are only
about a mile from the shore, and refreshing it is to
look at it ; but as yet we have seen no beach ; the
rock runs right into the sea. Such bustle and
excitement on board ! emigrants getting their things
ready, carpenters making the old ' Duke ' look smart,
sailors scrubbing, but no painting going on, to our
extreme delight. It is so calm, quite as smooth as
a small lake ; indeed there is less perceptible motion
than I have felt on the Lake of Como. No backs,
no bones aching, though here I speak for others
more than for myself, for the Bishop began his talk
last night by saying, ' One great point is decided,
that you are a good sailor. So far you are qualified
for Melanesia.' To this may be added that Patteson
had been further preparing for this work by a dili-
gent study of the Maori language, and likewise of
navigation ; and what an instructor he had in the
2o6 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. vi.
knowledge of the coasts may be gathered from the
fact that an old sea captain living at Kohimarama,
sent a note to St. John's College stating that he
was sure that the Bishop had come, for he knew
every vessel that had ever come into Auckland
harbour, and was sure this barque had never been
there before ; yet she had come in the night through
all the intricate passages, and was rounding the
heads without a pilot on board. He therefore
concluded that the Bishop must be on board, as
there was no other man that could have taken
command of her at such a time, and brought her
into that harbour.
The Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn went on shore as
soon as possible ; Patteson waited till the next day.
Indeed he wrote on July 5 that he was in no hurry
to land, since he knew no one in the whole neigh-
bourhood but Archdeacon Abraham. Then he de-
scribes the aspect of Auckland from the sea : —
It looks much like a small sea-side town, but not
so substantially built, nor does it convey the same
idea of comfort and wealth ; rude warehouses, &c.,
being mixed up with private houses on the beach.
The town already extends to a distance of perhaps
half a mile on each side of this cove, on which the
principal part of it is built. Just in the centre of the
cove stands the Wesleyan chapel. On the rising
ground on the east of the cove is the Roman
Catholic chapel, and on the west side is St. Paul's
Church, an I'^arly English stone building, looking
really ecclesiastical and homelike. The College, at a
distance of about five miles from the town, on some
higher ground, north-west of it, is reached from the
harbour by a boat ascending a creek to within a
mile of the buildings, so that we shall not go into the
]855.] Welcome at Atickland 207
town at all when we land. By water too will be our
shortest, at all events our quickest way from the
college to the town.
July 9, St. Johiis College. — Though we reached
harbour on July 5, and landed the next day, I have
scarcely found a minute to write a line. Imagine
my feelings as I touched land and jumped ashore at
a creek under Judge Martin's house, in the presence
of Rota Waitoa, the only native clergyman in the
diocese ; Levi, who is perhaps to be ordained, and
four or five other natives. Tena 7^a ko koe c hoa ?
* How are you, my friends?' (the common New
Zealand greeting), said I as I shook hands with
them one by one. We walked up from the beach
to the house. Roses in full flower, and mimosa
with a delicate golden flower, and various other
shrubs and flowers in full bloom. Midwinter, re-
collect. The fragrance of the air, the singing of
the birds, the fresh smell (it was raining a little and
the grass was steaming) were delicious, as you may
suppose. Here I was, all at once, carrying up
baggage, Maoris before and behind, and everything
new and strange, and yet I felt as if It were all right
and natural. The Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn had
landed the day before, and we were heartily wel-
comed. Mr. Martin took me into his study. ' I am
thankful to see you as a fresh labourer among us
here ; a man of your name needs no introduction to
a lawyer.' Nothing could exceed his kindness. He
began talking of you at once.
We dined at about 12.30. Clean mutton chops,
potatoes and pumpkin (very good Indeed), jam pud-
ding, bread, and plenty of water (beer I refused).
It did taste so good, I am quite ashamed of thinking
about it. About two o'clock I started with the
2o8 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. Vl.
Bishop for the College, nearly six miles from Auckland.
The first three miles the soil is volcanic, the last
three clay. The volcanic soil is very fertile and
produces crops that realise large incomes. The
clay is cold and very wet, but when drained very
valuable. The College farm consists of about 1,500
acres : a large sheep range on the Auckland side of
it, cattle (seventy-five) and horses on the flat meadows
beyond it ; very little is under the plough, labour
being very dear . . . The clergy have been supplied
by the College for a year with meat at 6d. per lb.,
and if only the students had done their duty, the
College land would already have proved the Bishop's
plan of rendering the clergy, through its agency,
independent of colonial fluctuations of price. The
harvest has failed in New South Wales, hence the
enormous price of flour here. Partly on this account
the College school has been broken up.
The Bishop is at a kind of collegiate establishment
on the outskirts of Auckland, where Mr. Kissling,
a clergyman, is the resident, and thither I go on
Wednesday, to live till October i, when we start,
please God, in the ' Southern Cross ' for the cruise
around new Zealand. Here, at Mr. Kissling's, I
shall have work with Maoris, learning each day, I
trust, to speak more correctly and fluently. Young
men for teachers, and it may be for clergymen, will
form at once my companions and my pupils, a good
proportion of them bemg nearly or quite of my own
age. I am to be constantly at the Judge's, running
in and out, working on Sundays anywhere as I may
be sent. So much for myself.
The College is really all that is necessary for a
thoroughly go(jd and c()m[)lcle place of education :
the hall all lined with kauri pine wood, a large
1 855-] '^^' Johiis College 209
handsome room, collegiate, capable of holding two
hundred persons ; the school-room, eighty feet long,
with admirable arrangements for holding classes
separately. There are two very cosy rooms, which
belong to the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn respectively,
in one of which I am now sitting . . . On the walls
are hanging about certain tokens of Melanesia in
the shape of gourds, calabashes, &c., such as I shall
send you one day ; a spade on one side, just as a
common horse halter hano-inof from Abraham's book-
shelf, betokens colonial life. Our rooms are quite
large enough, bigger than my room at Feniton, but
no furniture, of course, beyond a bedstead, a table for
writing, and an old bookcase ; but it is never cold
enough to care about furniture. ... I clean, of
course, my room in part, make my bed, help to clear
away things after meals, &c., and am quite accus-
tomed to do without servants for anything but
cooking. There is a weaving room, which used to
be well worked, a printing press (from C. M. S.)
which has done some good work, and is now at work
again — English, Maori, Greek and Hebrew types.
Separate groups of buildings, which once were filled
with lads from different Melanesian isles — farm
buildings, barns, &c. Last of all, the little chapel of
kauri wood, stained desk, like the inside of a really
good ecclesiastical building in England, porch S.W,
angle, a semicircular apse at the west, containing a
large handsome stone font, open seats of course.
The east end very simple, semicircular apse, small
windows all full of stained glass, raised one step, no
rails, the Bishop's chair on the north side, bench on
the south. Here my eye and my mind rested con-
tentedly and peacefully. The little chapel, holding
about seventy persons, is already dear to me. I
I. r
2IO Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
preached in it last night at the seven o'clock service.
We chanted the Unity Psalms CXXII, CXXIII,
CXXIV, and CL, heartily, all joining to a dear old
double chant in parts. I felt my heart very full as
I spoke to them of the blessedness of prayer and
spiritual communion. I was at Tamaki in the
morning, where I read prayers, the Archdeacon
preaching. A little stone church, very rude and
simple, but singing again good, and congregation of
fifty-one, attentive. At Panmure, about three miles
off, in the afternoon, a tiny wooden church — where
Abraham took all the duty. In the evening, in the
chapel, he read prayers, and I preached to about
thirty-five or forty people. We left the chapel just
as you were getting ready for breakfast, and so
passed my first Sunday in New Zealand. To-day
I have had hard work : I walked with Abraham to
Auckland — six miles of rough work, I promise you,
except the two last.
I believe it was in the course of this walk that Patte-
son experimented on his Maori, a native whom they
visited, and who presently turned upon the Arch-
deacon, and demanded, ' Why do you not speak like
Te Pattihana ? ' Such a compliment has seldom been
paid on so early an attempt at colloquialism in a new
language. Journal continues : —
Lugged down boxes, big empty ones, from the
Judge's house to the beach. Went with the Bishop
to the old slii]), packed up books, brought away all
our things almost, helped to pack them in a cart and
drag, and then walked back to the College, which I
reached in the dark at 7.30. It is delightful to see
tlie (lehglu (){ tlic nativc;s when tlu;y see the Bishop.
'E — h L(; i'ik()[)a!' and tlien they all come round
1855.] Maori acquaintance 211
him like children, laughing and talking. Two com-
mon men we met on Friday from Rotoma, 150
miles off, who said that their tribe had heard that
the Queen of England had taken away his salary,
and they had been having subscriptions for him
every Sunday. They are of various shades of
colour, some light brown, some nearly black, and
some so tattooed all over that you can't tell what
colour they are. I was talking to-day to the best of
my power with a native teacher upon whose face I
could not see one spot as big as a shilling that was
not tattooed, beautifully done in a regular pattern,
one side corresponding to the other. Each tribe, as
it is said (I know not how truly), has a pattern of its
own ; so they wear their coats-of-arms on their faces,
that is all. The young Christian natives are not
tattooed at all, and I have been to-day with Sydney,
whose father was the P"i"eat figrhtino- man of Hono-hi
(miscalled Shanghi) who was presented to George IV.
This young m'an's father helped to exterminate a
whole tribe who lived on a part of the College pro-
perty (as it is now), and he is said to be perhaps the
first New Zealander who was baptized as an infant.
I find it hard to understand them ; they speak very
indistinctly — not fast, but their voices are thick in
general. I hope to learn a good deal before Octo-
ber. My first letter from the ends of the world
tells of my peace of mind, of one sound and hearty
in body, and, I thank God, happy, calm, and cheerful
in spirit.
July II, 1855 : St. John's College, Auckland.
My dear Fan, — I do not doubt that I am where I
ought to be ; I do think and trust that God has
given me this work to do ; but I need earnest prayers
p 2
212 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. vi.
for strength that I may do it. It is no Hght work to
be suddenly transplanted from a quiet little country
district, where every one knew me, and the prestige
of dear Father's life and your active usefulness
among the people made everything smooth for me,
to a work exceeding in magnitude anything that falls
to the lot of an ordinary parish priest in England
— in a stranoe land, amonof a strano^e race of men,
in a newly forming and worldly society, with
no old familiar notions and customs to keep the
machine moving ; and then to be made acquainted
with such a mass of information respecting Church
government and discipline, educational schemes,
conduct of clergy and teachers, etc., etc. It is well
that I am hearty and sound in health, or I should
be regularly overwhelmed with it. Two texts I
think of constantly : ' Whatsoever thy hand findeth
to do, do it with thy might.' ' Sufticient for the day,'
etc. I hardly dare look forward to what my work
may be on earth ; I cannot see my way ; but I feel
sure that He is ordering it all, and I try to look on
beyond the earth, when at length, by God's mercy,
we may all find rest.
That I have been so well in body and so cheerful
in mind ever since I left home — I mean cheerful on
the whole, not without seasons of sadness, but so
mercifully strengthened 'at all times — must, I think,
without any foolish enthusiasm, be remembered by
me as a special act of God's goodness and mercy. I
was not the least weary of the sea. Another month
or two would have made very little difference to me,
I think. I am very fond of it, and I think of my
voyages to come without any degree of dread from
that cause, and I liavc; no reason to expect any great
discomfort from any other. I have my whole stock
1855.1 Cheerfulness 213
of lemon syrup and lime juice, so that the salt meat
on the 'Southern Cross' will be counteracted in that
way ; and going round those islands we shall be
ashore every few days. But what most stirprises
me is this : that when I am alone, as here at night
in a great (for it is large) cheerless, lonely room, as
I should have thought it once ; though I can't help
thinking of my own comforts at home, and all dear
faces around me, and Ferg coming in with tea, and
Mrs. Hockey in the morning bringing all sorts of
good things — though I feel my whole heart swelling
with love to you all, still I am not at all sad or
gloomy, or cast down. This does surprise me : I
did not think it would or could be so. I have
indeed prayed for it, but I had not faith to believe
that my prayer would be so granted. The fact
itself is most certain. I have at Alfington, when
alone of an evening, experienced a greater sense of
loneliness than I have once done out here. Of this
hitherto I feel no doubt : it may be otherwise any
day of course ; and to what else can I attribute this
fact, in all soberness of mind, but to the mercy of
God in strengthening me for my work "^ Much of
it may be the effect of a splendid climate upon my
physique, that is true ; for indeed to find flowers in
full blossom, green meadows, hot suns, birds singing,
etc., in midwinter, with a cool, steady breeze from the
sea invigorating me all the while, is no doubt just
what I require ; but to-day we have a north-easter,
which answers to your south-west wind, with pouring
rain, and yet my spirits are not going down with the
barometer. All the same, the said barometer will
probably soon recover himself ; for I believe these
heavy storms seldom last long. There is no fire in
the room where I sit, which is the Bishop's room
214 Life of John Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. vi.
when he is here ; no ^VQ-piace indeed, as it opens
into Mrs. Selwyn's room. The thermometer is 58°,
and it is midwinter.
To Miss Neill, on the same day, after repeating his
conviction that he was in the right place, he says : —
I have written to them at home what I ousfht
not perhaps to have said of myself, but that it will
give them comfort — that from all sides my being
here as the Bishop's companion is hailed as likely
to produce very beneficial results. But I must
assure you that I fully know how your love for me
and much too high opinion of me makes you fancy
that I could be of use at home. But we must not,
even takine this view, send our refuse men to the
colonies. Newly forming societies must be moulded
by men of energy, and power, and high character ;
in fact, churches must be organised, the Gospel must
be preached by men of earnest zeal for God's glory
in the salvation of souls. To lower the standard of
Christian life by exhibiting a feeble faint glimmering
instead of a burning shining light is to stamp upon
the native mind a false impression, it may be for
ever.
Remember, we have no ancient customs nor time-
hallowed usages to make up for personal indif-
ference and apathy ; we have no momentum to
carry on the machine. We have to start it, and
give it the first impulse, under the guidance of
the Spirit of God ; and oh ! if it takes a wrong
direction at first, who can calculate the evil that
must follow ? It is easy to steer a vessel in
smooth water, with a fair breeze ; but how are you
to keep her head straight in a rolling sea with no
way on her ?
1855-] St. Stephens School 215
This letter, with two or three more, went by the first
mail after his arrival. From that time he generally
kept a journal-letter, and addressed it to one or other
of his innermost home circle ; while the arrival of
each post from home produced a whole sheaf of
answers, and comments on what was told, by each
correspondent, of family, political or Church matters.
Sometimes the letter is so full of the subject of im-
mediate interest as absolutely to leave no room for
personal details of his own actual life, and this became
more the case as the residence in New Zealand or
Norfolk Island lost its novelty, while it never absorbed
him so as to narrow his interests. He never missed a
mail in writing- to his father and sisters, and a letter to
his brother was equally regular, but these latter were
generally too much concerned with James's own
individual life to be as fully given as the letters, which
were in fact a diary of facts, thoughts, and impressions.
July 12, St. Stephens, Mr. Kiss lings School-house. —
You know I am to live here when not on the ' South-
ern Cross,' or journeying in the Bush ; so I must
describe, first, the place itself, then my room in it. The
house is a large one-storied building of wood, no stair-
case in it, but only a succession of rooms. , . . There
are at present fourteen or sixteen girls in the school,
boarding here, besides Rota, who is a native deacon,
spending a month here ; Levi, who is preparing for
ordination, and three other men. The house stands
on table-land about four hundred yards from the sea,
commanding glorious views of the harbour, sea, and
islands, which form groups close round the coast.
It is Church property all round, and the site of a
future cathedral is within a stone's throw of it. . . .
Now for my room. Plenty large enough to begin
2i6 Life of John Coleridge PaUeson [Ch. vi.
with, not less than sixteen feet long by twelve wide,
and at least eleven high, all wood, not papered or
painted, which I like much, as the kauri is a darkish
grained wood ; no carpet, of course, but I am writing
now at lo P.M., with no fire, and quite warm. The
east side of the room is one great window, latticed, in
a wooden frame ; outside it a verandah, and such a
beautiful view of the harbour and bay beyond. I
will tell you exactly what I have done to-day since
two o'clock, as a sample of my life.
2 P.M., dinner, roast mutton ; my seat between the
Bishop and Rota. Fancy the long table with its double
row of Maoris. After dinner, away with the Bishop
to the hospital, a plain wooden building a mile off,
capable of taking in about forty patients in all. I am
to visit it regularly when here, taking that work off
the parish clergyman's shoulders, and a great comfort
it v/ill be. I went through it to-day, and had a long
talk with the physician and surgeon, and saw the
male patients, two of them natives. One of them is
dying, and so I am to be now talking as well as I
can, but at all events reading and praying, with this
poor fellow, and a great happiness it is to have such
a privilege and so soon. Came back to tea, very
pleasant. After tea made Rota, and Sydney, a
young man who knows English pretty well, sit in
my room (N.B., there is but one chair, in which I
placed Rota), and then I made them read Maori to
me, and read a good deal myself, and then we talked
as well as we could. At 6. 15, prayers, the whole
party of Maoris assembled. Mr. Kissling read the
first verse of the chapter (Joshua vi.), and we each
read one verse in turn, and then he questioned
them for perhaps fifteen minutes. They were very
intelligent and answered well, and it was striking to
1855.] Hospital Work 217
see grown-up men and young women sitting so
patiently to be taught. Then the evening service
prayers ; and so I kneh with these good simple
people and prayed with them for the first time.
Very much I enjoyed all this. Soon after came
supper, a little talking, and now here am I writing to
you.
I wish you could see the tree-ferns ; some are
quite twenty feet high in the trunk, for trunk it is,
and the great broad frond waves over it in a way
that would make that child Pena clap her hands with
delight. Then the geraniums and roses in blossom,
the yellow mimosa flower, the wild moncha, with a
white flower, growing everywhere, and the great
variety of evergreen trees (none that I have seen
being deciduous) make the country very pretty.
The great bare volcanic hills, each with its well-
defined crater, stand up from among the woodlands,
and nozu from among pastures grazing hundreds of
oxen ; and this, with the grand sea views, and
shipping in the harbour, make a very fine sight,
July 4. — I write to-night because you will like a
line from me on the day when first I have in any
way ministered to a native of the country. I was
in the hospital to-day, talked a little, and read St.
Luke XV. to one, and prayed with another Maori.
The latter is dying. He was baptized by the
Wesleyans, but is not visited by them, so I do not
scruple to go to him. Rota, the native deacon, was
with me, and he talked a long v/hile with the poor
fellow. It is a great comfort to me to have made
a beginning. I did little more than read a few
prayers from the Visitation Service, but the man
understood me well, so I may be of use, I hope.
He has never received the Lord's Supper ; but if
2i8 Life of John Coleridge Pattcsou [Ch. vi.
there is time to prepare him, the Bishop wishes me
to administer it to him.
Jidy 20. — Yesterday in sailed the ' Southern Cross'
with not a spar carried away or sail lost, perfectly
sound, and in a fit state to be off again at once.
She left England on the same day that we did, and
arrived just a fortnight after us, and this is attribu-
table to her having kept in low latitudes, not going
higher than 39° ; whereas we were in 51° 30', which
diminished the distance and brought us in the way
of more favourable winds. I saw from my windows
about 9 A.M. a schooner in the distance, and told the
Bishop I thought it might be the ' Southern Cross '
(she has no figure-head and a very straight bow).
Through the day, which was very rainy, we kept
looking from time to time through our glasses. At
3 p. M. the Bishop came in : ' Come along, Coley ; I
do believe it is the " Southern Cross." ' So I hurried on
waterproofs, knowing that we were in for some mud-
larking. Off we went, lugged down a borrowed
boat to the water, tide being out. I took one oar,
a Maori another, and off we went, Bishop steering.
After twenty minutes' pull, or thereabouts, we met
her, jumped on board, and then such a broadside of
questions and answers. They had a capital passage.
Two men who were invalided when they started
died on the voyage — one of dysentery, I think — all
the rest flourishing, the three women respectable and
tidy-looking individuals, and two children very well.
After a while the l^isliop and I went off to shore, in
one of his boats, pulled by two of the crew,
Lowestoft fishermen, fine young fellows as you ever
saw. Then we bought fresh meat, onions, bread,
etc., for tlK-m, and so home by 7 i'.m. ' Mud-
larking' very slight on this occasion, only walking
1855-]
Mud-lav Jcinor 219
<b
over the flat swamp of low-water marsh for a
quarter of a mile ; but on Tuesday we had a rich
scene. Bishop and I went to the ' Duke of Port-
land ' and brought off the rest of our things ; but
it was low water, so the boats could not come
within a long way of the beach, and the custom is for
carts to go over the muddy sand, which is tolerably
hard, as far into the water as they can, perhaps two
and a half or three feet deep when it is quite calm,
as It was on Tuesday. Well, in went our cart,
which had come from the College, with three valuable '
horses, while the Bishop and I stood on the edge of
the water. Presently one of the horses lost his
footing, and then all at once all three slipped up,
and the danger was of their struggling violently and
hurtingf themselves. One of those in the shafts had
his head under water, too, for a time. Instanter
Bishop and I had our coats off, my trousers were
rolled over my knees, and in we rushed to the
horses. Such a plunging and splashing ! but they
were all got up safe. This was about 4 p.m., and I
was busy about the packages and getting them into
the carts, unloading at Mr. Kissling's till past 8 ;
but I did not catch cold. Imagine an English
Bishop with attending parson cutting into the water
up to their knees to disentangle their cart-horses
from the harness in full view of every person on the
beach. ' This is your first lesson in mud-larking,
Coley,' was the remark of the Bishop as we laughed
over our respective appearance.
July 21. — I was finishing my sermon for the
soldiers to-morrow at 11.30, when Mr. Kissling
came in to say that the schooner just come into the
harbour was the vessel which had been sent to
bring Mr. and Mrs. Nihill from Nengone or Mare
2 20 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. vi.
Island. He was in very bad health when he went
there, and great doubts were entertained as to his
coming back. I was deputed to go and see. I ran a
good part of the way to the town on to the pier, and
there heard that Mr. Nihill was dead. An old
acquaintance of Mrs. Nihill was on the pier, so I
thought I should be in the way, and came back, told
Mrs. Kissling, and went on to the Judge's, and told
Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Selwyn. Whilst there we saw
a boat land a young lady and child on the beach
just below the house, and they sent me down.
Pouring with rain here on the beach, taking shelter
in a boathouse with her brother, I found this poor
young widow ; and so, leaning on my arm, she walked
up to the house. I just waited to see Mrs. Selwyn
throw her arms round her neck, and then walked
straight off, feeling that the furious rain and wind
chimed in with a violent struggle which was just
going on in my own mind, I go through such
scenes firmly enough at the time, but when my part
is over I feel just like a child, and I found the tears
in my eyes ; for the universal sympathy which has
been expressed by every one here for the lonely
situation of the Nihills at Nengone made me feel
almost a personal interest in them, He was a good
linguist, and his lost will be severely felt by the
Bishop.
Atigtist 14. — I marked out to-day some pretty
places for the two wooden houses for the ' Southern
Cross' sailors at Kohimarama (Focus of Light), a quiet
retired spot, with a beautiful sparkling beach, the
schooner lying just outside the little bay a third of a
mile off lv)rty or fifty acres of flat pasturage, but
only sixteen properly cleared, and then an amj)hi-
theatre of low liills, covered with New Zealand
1855.] 1 he First Letters from Home 221
vegetation. I passed fine ferns to-day quite thirty feet
in the stem, with great spreading fronds, Hke branches
of the Norfolk Island pine almost.
On the 17th of August came the welcome mail
from home. ' Oh what a delight it is to see
your dear handwriting again !' is the cry in the reply.
' Father's I opened first, and read his letter, stopping
often with tears of thankfulness in my eyes to thank
God for enablino- him not to be over-anxious about
me, and for the blessing of knowing that he was as
well as usual, and also because his work, so distasteful
to him, was drawing to a close. Then I read Fan's,
for I had a secret feeling that I should hear most
from her about Alfington.'
On the evening of that day he wrote to Fanny. In
answer to the expression of the pain of separation,
he says : —
' There is One above who knows what a trial
it is to you. For myself, hard as it is, and almost
too hard sometimes, yet I have relief in the
variety and unceasing multiplicity of my occupa-
tions. Not a moment of any day can I be said to
be idle. Literally, I have not yet had a minute to
untie my ' Guardians ; ' but for you, with more time
for meditating, with no change of scene, with every
object that meets you at home and in your daily
walks reminding you of me, it must indeed be such
a trial as angels love to look upon when it is borne
patiently, and with a perfect assurance that God is
ordering all things for our good ; and so let us
struggle on to the end. All good powers are on our
side, and we shall meet by the infinite mercy one
day when there shall be no separation for ever.
I read on in your letter till I came to ' Dear
Coley, it is very hard to live without you,' — and I
2 2 2
Life of John Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. vi.
broke down and cried like a child. I was quite alone
out in the fields on a glorious bright day, and
it was the relief I had longed for. The few simple
words told me the whole story, and I prayed with
my whole heart that you might find strength in the
hour of sadness. Do (as you say you do) let your
natural feelings work : do not force yourself to appear
calm, do not get excited if you can help it ; but if
your mind is oppressed with the thought of my
absence, do not try to drive it away by talking
about something else, or taking up a book, etc. ;
follow it out, see what it ends in, trace out the
spiritual help and comfort which have already, it
may be, resulted from it, the growth of dependence
upon God above ; meditate upon the real idea of
separation, and think of Mamma and Uncle Frank.
August 26, 1855, 10.40 P.M. : S. Stephen's, Auckland.
My dear Arthur, — I am tired with my Sunday work,
which is heavy in a colony, but I just begin my
note on the anniversary of your dear, dear father's
death. How vividly I remember all the circum-
stances of the last ten days — the peaceful, holy, happy
close of a pure and well-spent life ! I do so think
of him, not a day passing without my mind dwelling
on him ; I love to find myself calling up the image of
his dear face, and my heart is very full when I
recollect all his love for me, and the many, many
tokens of his affection which he used to pour out
from his warm, generous, loving heart. I can hardly
tell you what an indescribable comfort it is to me
now I think of these things, cut off from the society
and sympathy of friends and the associations of
home ; tlic^ memory is very active in recalling such
scenes, and 1 almost live in them again. I have
very little time for indulging in fancies of any kind
1855.] Maoris luidcr training 223
now ; I begin to get an idea of what work is ; but
in my walks out at night (if I am awake), I think
of dear Mamma and your dear father, and others
who are gone before, with unmixed joy and comfort.
You may be quite sure that I am not Hkely to forget
anybody or anything connected with home. How I
do watch and follow them through the hours of the
day or night when we are both awake and at our
work ! I turn out at 6.45, and think of them at
dinner or tea; at 10, I think of them at evening
prayers ; and by my own bed-time they are in
morning church or busied about their different
occupations, and I fancy I can almost see them.
So it goes on, and still I am calm and happy and
very well ; and I think I am in my place and hope
to be made of some use some day. I like the
natives in this school very much. The regular wild
untamed fellow is not so pleasant at first — dirty,
unclothed, always smoking, a mass of blankets, his
wigwam sort of place filthy; his food ditto; but then
he is probably intelligent, hospitable, and not in-
sensible to the advantaa"e of hearino- about reliijion.
It only wants a little practice to overcome one's
English feelings about dress, civilisation, etc., and
that will soon come.
But here the men are nice fellows, and the women
and girls make capital servants ; and so whereas
many of the clergy and gentry do not keep a servant
(wages being enormous), and ladies like your sisters
and mine do the whole work of the housemaid,
nursery-maid, and cook (which I have seen and
chatted about with them), /, on the contrary, by Miss
Maria (a wondrous curly-headed, black-eyed Maori
damsel, arrayed in a 'smock,' lucitcr nicJits), have
my room swept, bed made, tub — yes, even in New
224 Z/^ of yolui Coleridge Pattcson [ch. vi.
Zealand — daily filled and emptied, and indeed all the
establishment will do anything for me. I did not
care about it, as I did all for myself aboard ship ;
but still I take it with a very good grace.
In about six weeks I expect we shall sail all round
the English settlement of New Zealand, and go to
Chatham Island. This will occupy about three
months, and the voyage will be about 4,000 miles.
Then we start at once, upon our return, for four
months in the Bush, among the native villages, on foot.
Then, once again taking ship, away for Melanesia.
So that, once off, I shall be roving about for nearly
a year, and shall, if all goes well, begin the really
missionary life.
It is late, and the post goes to-morrow. Good-bye,
my dear Arthur ; write when you can.
Ever your affectionate
J. C. Patteson.
AtigHst 27. — I have just been interrupted by Mrs.
Kissling, who came to ask me to baptize privately
the young son of poor Rota, the native deacon, and
his wife Terena. Poor fellow ! This child was born
two or three days after he left this place for Taranaki
with the Bishop, so he has not seen his son as yet.
He has one boy about four, and has lost three or four
others ; and now this little one, about three weeks
old, seems to be dying. I was almost glad that the
first time I baptized a native child, using the native
language, should be on Fan's birthday. It was strik-
ing to see the unaffected sympathy of the natives here.
The poor mother came with the child in her arms to
the large room. A taljle with a white cloth in the
centre, and ncarl)' llu; wliole establishment assembled,
I doulA if )'<ju would have seen in England grown-up
1855.] ^ Conversation with a Maori 225
men and women more thoroughly in earnest. It
was the most comforting private Baptism I ever
witnessed.
Herni has been for an hour or more this morning
asking me questions which you would seldom hear
from farmers or tradesmen at home, showing a real
acquaintance with the Bible, and such a desire, Imngcr
and thirst, for knowledsfe. What was the manna in
the wilderness ? he began. He thought it was food
that angels actually lived upon, and quoted the verse
in the Psalm readily, ' So man did eat angel's food.'
So I took him into the w^hole question of the spiri-
tual body ; the various passages, ' meats for the
belly,' etc., our Lord's answer to the Sadducees, and
so on to I Cor. xv. Very interesting to watch the
earnestness of the man and his real pleasure in
assenting to the general conclusion expressed in
I John iii. 2 concerning our ignorance of what we
shall be, not implying want of power on God's part
to explain, but His divine will in not withdrawing the
veil wholly from so great a mystery. 'E marama ana,'
(I see it clearly now) : ' He mea ngaro ! ' (a mystery).
His mind had wholly passed from the carnal material
view of life in heaven, and the idea of food for the
support of the spiritual body, and the capacity for
receiving the higher truths (as it were) of Christi-
anity showed itself more clearly in the young New
Zealander than you would find perhaps in the whole
extent of a country parish. I think that when I
know the language well enough to catechize freely,
it will be far more interesting, and I shall have a far
more intelligent set of catechumens, than in England.
They seem especially fond of it, ask questions con-
stantly, and will get to the bottom of the thing, and
when the catechist is up to the mark and quick and
2 26 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
wily in both question and illustration, they get so eager
and animated, all answering together, quoting texts,
etc. I think that their knowledge of the Bible is in
some sense attributable to its being almost the only
book printed that they care much about. The ' Pil-
grim's Progress,' ' Robinson Crusoe,' ' Rocky Island,'
are translated, but the first two not well, and they
don't seem to read them. But when you take up a
new lingo, Fan, don't take up Maori as an easy one.
To get on in a desultory conversation may not
require much time or trouble, but very few Euro-
peans out here know it really well.
The nth of September produced another long letter
full of home feeling, drawn forth in response to his
sister. Here are some extracts : —
Sometimes I cannot help wishing that I could say all
this, but not often. There is One who understands,
and in real great trials even, it is well to lean only on
Him. But I must write freely. You will not think
me moody and downhearted, because I show you that
I do miss 3^ou, and often feel lonely and shut up in
myself This is exactly what I experience, and I
think if I was ill, as you often are, I should break
down under it ; but God is very merciful to me in
keeping me in very good health, so that I am always
actively engaged every day, and when night comes
I am weary in body, and sleep sound almost always,
so that the time passes very rapidly indeed, and I
am living in a kind of dream, hardly realizing the
fact of my being at half the world's distance from
you, but borne on from day to day, I scarcely
know how. Indeed, when I do look back upon the
past six months, I have abundant cause to be
tliaiikful. 1 never perhaps shall know fully how it is,
1)11 1 somehow, as a matter of fact, I am on the whole
1855.] Hospital Work 227
cheerful, and always busy and calm in mind. I don't
have tumultuous bursts of feeling and overwhelming
floods of recollection that sweep right away all com-
posure. Your first letters upset me more than once
as I re-read them, but I think of you all habitually
with real joy and peace of mind. And I am really
happy, not in the sense that happiness presents
itself always, or exactly in the way that I used to
feel it when with you all, or as I should feel it if I
were walking up to the lodge with my whole heart
swelling within me. It is much more quiet and
subdued, and does not perhaps come and go quite
as much ; but yet in the midst of all, I half doubt
sometimes whether everything about and within
me is real. I just move on like a man in a dream,
but this again does not make me idle. I don't
suppose I ever worked harder, on the whole, than I
do now, and I have much anxious work at the
hospital. Such cases, Fan ! Only two hours ago,
I left a poor sailor, by whose side I had been
kneeling near three-quarters of an hour, holding his
sinking head and moistening his mouth with wine,
the dews of death on his forehead, and his poor
emaciated frame heaving like one great pulse at
each breath. For four days that he has been there
(brought in a dying state from the ' Merchantman ')
I have been wnth him, and yesterday I administered
to him the Holy Communion. He had spoken
earnestly of his real desire to testify the sincerity of
his repentance and faith and love.^ I have been
there daily for nine days, but I cannot always
manage it, as it is nearly two miles off. The re-
sponsibility is great of dealing with such cases, but
I trust that God will pardon all my sad mistakes.
1 ' Sept. 14//;.— He died three hours and a half after I left him.'
Q2
2 28 Life of y ohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
I cannot withhold the Bread of Life when I see
indications of real sorrow for sin, and the simple
readiness to obey the command of Christ, even
thouofh there is great ignorance and but little time
to train a soul for heaven. I cannot, as you may
suppose, prepare for my Sunday work as I ought to
do, from want of time. Last Sunday I had three
whole services, besides reading the Communion
Service and preaching at 1 1 a.m, and reading
Prayers at 5 p.m. I should have preached five times
if I had not left my sermon for the evening at Mr.
T's, thinking to go back for it . . . Mrs. K. gave
me an old ' Woolmer ' ^ the other day, which gladdened
my eyes. Little bits of comfort come in, you see, in
these ways. Nothing can be kinder than the people
here, I mean in Auckland and its neighbourhood —
real, simple, hearty kindness. Perhaps the w^ork
at Kohimarama is most irksome to me. It is no
joke to keep sailors in good humour ashore, and I
fear that our presence on board was much needed
during the passage out.
With reference to his sister's reading, he continues : —
Take care of Maurice, Fan ; I do not think it too
much to say that he is simply and plainly " unsound "
on the doctrine of the Atonement ; I don't charge
him with heresy from his stand-point, but remember
that you have not been brought into contact with
Quakers, Socinians, &c., and that he may conceive
of a way of reconciling metaphysically difficulties
which a far inferior but less inquisitive and vor-
schendcr Gcist pronounces for itself simply contrary
to the word of God. There are two Greek preposi-
tions which contain the gist of the whole matter,
' The I'^xclcr paper.
1855.] Professor Matirice 229
c/TTsp (huper), -ill bcJialf of, and avr) (anti), instead
of in the place of. Maurice's doctrine goes far to
do away with the truth of the last, as apphed to the
Sacrifice of Christ. I have an exceedingly high
regard for him, and respect for his goodness no less
than his ability. His position has exposed him to
very great difficulties, and therefore, if hez^ decidedly
wrong, it is not for us to judge him. Read his
" Kingdom of Christ," and his early books ; but he is
on very slippery and dangerous ground now. It is
indeed a great and noble task to propose to oneself,
viz. to teach that God is our Father, and to expose the
false and most unhappy idea that has at times prevailed
of representing God as actuated by strong indigna-
tion, resentment, &c., against the human race, so that
men turned from Him as from some fearful avenging
power. This is the worst form of Anthropomor-
phism, but this is not the Scriptural idea of 2i just
God. We cannot, perhaps, conceive of absolute jus-
tice ; certainly we are no judges of God's own revealed
scheme of reconciling Justice with Law, and so I call
Maurice's, to a certain extent, human teaching, more
philosophy than religion, more metaphysics than
revelation.'
On the 22nd the Ordination took place, and the
second Maori deacon was ordained, Levi (or according
to Maori pronunciation, Rivata) Ahea, a man of about
thirty-eight, whose character had long been tested.
Immediately after, the Bishop, Mrs. Selwyn, Mr.
Patteson, and the new Deacon, set forth on a coasting
expedition in the new vessel.
The language of the journal becomes nautical, and
strong in praise of the conduct of the little ship, which
took the party first to Nelson, where Sunday, the 7th
of October, was spent, the Bishop going ashore while
230 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. vi.
Patteson held a service for the sailors on board, first
going round to the vessels anchored in the harbour to
invite the men's attendance, but without much success.
On the loth he wrote : —
* Already I feel to a certain extent naturalized. I do
not think I should despair of qualifying myself in
three months for the charge of a native parish. I
don't mean that I know the niceties of the language .
so as to speak it always correctly, but I should be
able to communicate with them on ordinary subjects,
and to preach and catechize. But, after all, Mela-
nesia is becoming more and more a substantial
reality.'
The history of Bishop Selwyn's visitation hardly
belongs to Patteson 's life ; I therefore only give the
more personal extracts from his letters. On Sunday
evening, the 21st of October, when lying in Astrolabe
Roads, he wrote to his sister Joanna the following affec-
tionate mediations : —
' This afternoon I went ashore to walk about the beach,
and sat on a rock readino- the " Christian Year." The
20th Sunday after Trinity comes very Jionie to me,
for I had a noble landscape before me, of "earth,
sea, and sky," and I was alone to meditate upon It
all, and to think about my own lot and portion In
God's great universe. I hardly know whether it is
right to let my thoughts run so much upon home ;
not with reference to any probability of seeing It
again, but merely for reproducing the happy memory
of all lliat it has been to me. But it does make me
feel so happy when I retrace my past tlme'^ there,
especially the last few months ; and the thought of
all your love Is something so really delightful and
soothing to dwell upon in tlic midst of these rough,
i855.]
A Walk at Waitoki 2\\
though good-natured, seamen, that I can hardly bring
myself to struggle against it. I don't think it tends
to unfit me for present work, and possibly may pre-
pare me all the better for it, inasmuch as it is the only
real relaxation I have that comes easily and without
effort. All higher sources of comfort do require the
exertion and employment of the mind, but here I
have only to let the mind go, and there I am at
Feniton. It would be a blessed thing if my mind
did fly as instinctively to the contemplation of
heavenly things ; but I must not dare to expect that.
It is more than sufficient cause for thankfulness that,
when sometimes the prospect looks gloomy and my
heart seems to fail, I do find then my mind sug-
gesting as it were to itself, or having suggested to it,
the only real ground of consolation and strength ;
and so I journey on from day to day.'
A day or two later the vessel was in Queen Char-
lotte's Sound, at Waitoki, where the Bishop walked
inland, leaving Mr. Patteson with Levi to assist him in
holding services. This is the account of these days : —
' I have had two rather interesting days since the 25th.
Each has introduced me to a new phase of New
Zealand life. On Thursday (25th) I turned out at
5 A.M. (having been up the day before at 3 a.m.,
breakfasted, and started with the Bishop on his walk
to the Wairoa), We were delayed on shore as usual
by people who wanted to talk about various matters,
so we did not march till seven. By twelve we had
reached a hill where Captain Wakefield is buried,
who, with seventeen other Englishmen, was killed by
the natives (1843) in a quarrel about land. The
distance is only twelve miles, but the first ten took
you through one continuous forest, and the remaining
232 Life of y ohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
two you cross through three swamps, and skirt the
steep edges of several hills. Scarcely did we take
three steps together without a slip on the dry fern
which covered the steeply-sloping path, or without
stumbling over stumps, getting over fallen trees,
sinking in swamp, &c. We crossed two rivers : one
I went through, but it was quite shallow and very
pleasant, as it washed off some of the mud of the
swamps. The other we crossed twice on the trunk
of a tree thrown across at a height of a few feet above
the water, said water about ten feet deep. The heat
was oppressive. The tangled bush and high fern,
higher than our heads, with the great flax bush, &c.,
prevented the circulation of air in the wood, and when
we emerged from it, the heat of the sun was almost
tropical. At noon we dined — biscuit and a slice of
bacon, which the two Maoris cooked by sticking a
piece of stick through the rasher, and putting it on
the wood embers. Like a great light of old, we ate
our dinners first, and our plates afterwards, the plate
being of course a biscuit. The Bishop went on
at I P.M., and I started back with a Maori guide,
reaching the beach at 6.30. The people at the
Waitoki were rather surprised when they heard I
had been at Massacre Hill since seven, and it was a
good walk. The wood was fine, some trees huge,
the white pines especially. Small green parrots
getting up actually in coveys, eight at a time, and
perching close to me ; large red ones in numbers,
pigeons innumerable, ducks, &c., not to forget
the sandflies and mosquitoes, which indeed take good
care not to be forgotten, though several of the crew
are suffering more from them than I am, and I hope
to be mosquito-proof some da)'.'
' The next day (Friday), tlircc natives were sent off in
1 85 5-] Sunday in Queen Charlottes Sound 233
a boat to go to the different native villages of Queen
Charlotte's Sound to tell the people that there were
two clergymen at the Waitoki, and that there would
be school on Saturday to prepare them for the Sunday
services. Well, on Saturday, several large boats
arrived from different quarters, and about one
hundred natives encamped just above the beach. I
opened school with prayer, and then Levi catechized
upon the Sacraments. We talked before of the sub-
ject, but he did it so well. Then we ended as we
began, and after school stood talking about in groups.
Sunday began with Litany, Communion service, and
sermon, at 9 a.m., on board ship, while Levi read the
Litany to the people on shore. At 10. 1 5 I went
ashore, and soon assembled in an unfinished log hut,
with no doors or windows, and a very insecure roof in
case rain had come on, twenty-five Englishmen, who
are making the road between Waitoki and Nelson.
They were very attentive though they had no books,
and for eighteen months had not seen a clergyman — a
wild ignorant set. I read prayers and preached at
length extempore, and of course very plainly. At
1 1.30 the Maori service began. The room was soon
crowded ; some planks I had had laid across, and
many sat on the fern and rushes which were strewn
on the floor. A few boards on four stumps, with
a clean table cloth, and the Melanesian silver-gilt
Communion service at one end, Levi on one side,
J.C.P. on the other. I read the Communion service,
Levi having read prayers and preached very
well on the Holy Communion. Then I administered
the Holy Communion to fifty-one natives. It was
striking to see them, old men tattooed all over, every
part of the face, and with no covering but a blanket ;
old women in every quaint extraordinary kind of
234 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
garments and head-dresses ; young people who had
half adopted English clothing.
'At 1.30 I went to the ship and dined. At 2.30
I was on shore again, and soon surrounded by some
thirty or forty natives, with whom I talked a long
while about the prospect of a clergyman being
settled among them. "We \^2S\.t yon ! You speak
so plainly, we can understand you ! "
' " No, I amgoingto the islands to the blacks there."
(n.b. The Maoris speak of the Blacks with a little
touch of contempt.)
' " You are wanted here ! Never mind the blacks ! "
' " Ought not the Gospel to be preached to them,
too. They have no teacher. Is it not right they
should be taught as you have been ? "
' " Ae 7'a e tika ana. Yes, yes, that is right ! "
' By this time my English congregation had
assembled again, a good sign. So I read prayers,
selecting those I thought most appropriate, and
preached. Immediately afterwards followed the
Maori service, which lasted from 4.15 to 6.5
Seven children, were baptized by Levi. I read
prayers, and churched four women, and Levi
preached. At 8 p.m. I had the evening prayers on
board the " Southern Cross," and so ended my
Sunday. It was a fine day, the room crowded with
natives, and many more sitting all about outside. I
was saluted on every side, " E Patehana, the new
minister from England." '
The settlements, then new, of Canterbury and Dun-
edin were visited, and then, the Bishop remaining on
shore on other work, the ' Southern Cross ' started for
the Chatham Isles, gaining high commendation for
all the good qualities of which a schooner could be
supposed capable. ' It was pretty to see the little
1855.] A Chatham Island Funeral 235
vessel rnnning away from the great broad-backed
rollers which rolled over the shore far above.
Every now and then she shipped a sea, and once her
deck was quite full of water, up to the gunwale nearly.'
And as for her future skipper, he says ' I had plenty
of work at navigation. It really is very puzzling at
first ; so much to remember — currents, compass, varia-
tion, sun's declination, equation of time, lee way,
&c. But I think I have done my work pretty well up to
now, and of course it is a great pleasure as well as a
considerable advantage to be able to give out the
true and magnetic course of the ship, and to be able
from day to day to give out her position.'
The Chatham Isles are dependencies of New
Zealand, inhabited by Maoris, and as it has fallen to
the lot of few to visit them, here is this extract con-
cerning them : —
* I buried a man there, a retired sea captain who
had spent some twenty years of his life in China, and
his widow was a Chinese woman, a little clot of a
thing, rather nice looking. She spoke a little
Eno^lish and more Maori. We walked through the
Pa to the burial ground, some twenty natives all
dressed in black, i.e., something black about them,
and many in a good suit, attending the funeral.
Levi had spent the . day before (Sunday) with them
and had told them about me. As I approached the
Pa before the funeral they all raised the native cry
of welcome, the " Tangi." I advanced, speaking to
them collectively, and then went through the cere-
mony of shaking hands with each one in order as
they stood in a row, saying something, if I could
think of it, to each. After the funeral they all
(according to native custom) sat down in the open
air, around a large cloth on the ground, on which were
236 Life of yohii Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. vi.
spread tins of potatoes, fish, pork, &c. The leader
came to me and said, " This is the Maori fashion.
Come, my friend, and sit with us," and deposited three
bottles of beer at my feet, while provisions enough
for Dan Lambert were stored around — a sort of
Homeric way of honouring me, and perhaps they
made a Bejijamin of me. However, I had already
eaten a mouldy biscuit and had a glass of beer at the
house of the Chinawoman, so I only said grace for
them, and after talking a little while, I shook hands
all round and went ofT. Their hands, being used as
knives and forks, were not a little greasy ; but of
course one does not think of that. As I passed the
end of the Pa I heard a cry, and saw a very old man
with a perfectly white beard, too old to come to the
feast, who had crawled out of his hut to see me.
he had nothing on but a blanket, and I was sorry I
had not known of his being there, that I might have
gone to the old gentleman, so we talked and shook
hands, and I set off for my eight miles walk back.
The whole island is one vast peat field, in many
places below in a state of ignition ; then the earth
crumbles away below and pits are formed, rank with
vegetation, splendid soil for potatoes.'
Christmas Day was spent at Wellington, in
services on shore, the Christmas dinner eaten on
board, but the evening spent at the Governor's in
blind man's buff and other games with the children,
then evening prayers on board for the crew. The
stay at Wellington was altogether enjoyable, and it
ended by Mr. Patteson taking the command of the
vessel, and returning with Mrs. Selwyn to Auckland,
while the Bishop pursued his journey by land, no
small proof of the confidence inspired by so recent
a mariner. He was sorry to lose the sight of the
1856.] HoDie-Sickncss 237
further visitation, and in his New Year's letter of
1856, written soon after receiving a budget from
home, there is one Httle touch of home sickness.
* Really it is a fine land, with wonderful facilities for
large manufacturing, commercial and agricultural
interests ; worth visiting, too, merely for the scenery,
but somehow enjoying scenery depends a good deal
upon having one's own friends to enjoy it with.
One thing I do enjoy thoroughly, and that is the
splendid sunsets. I don't remember anywhere to
have seen such fine soft golden sunsets ; and they
are not wanting in variety, for occasionally he goes
to bed among red and crimson and purple clouds,
with wild scuds flying above, which suggests to me
the propriety of turning up my bed and looking out
for a good roll in the night. But there is certainly a
peculiar transparency in the air which makes the
distances look distant indeed.'
This trip, so cheerfully described, was rather a pull
on the frame which had yet to become seasoned to
the heat of the southern midsummer, and there was a
languor about the outward man, the last remnant of
the original slusfofishness, which, if ever a doubt
arose of the fitness of the instrument for the work,
awoke it during the voyage. There was depression
likewise, in part, no doubt, from the spending the first
Christmas away from home and friends, and partly
from a secret disappointment at the arrangement which
made him for a time acting master, not to say steward,
of the ship, so that he had to live on board of her, and
make himself useful on Sundays, according to need, in
the churches on shore, a desultory life very trying to
him, but which he bore with his usual quiet determi-
nation to do obediently and faithfully the duty laid on
him, without picking or choosing.
238 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [c h. V i .
To Mr. Edward Colerido^e he writes : —
'^tj
January 8, 1856 : ' Southern Cross,' Auckland Harbour.
My dear old Tutor, — Our to6 days' cruise among the
settlements of New Zealand ended last night at
twelve, when we dropped anchor just inside the
north head of the harbour. It was anxious work
from Wellington, because the Bishop having left us
there, I was in a certain sense responsible for the
safe conduct of the vessel, and I was entirely so for
the discipline of it. We had a regular thrashing
match against head wind and sea all the way from
the East Cape, and yet made the passage in nine
days. She is a litde beauty and no mistake.
Nothine out here can touch her.
I find the steamer which takes the mail to
Sydney just starting, so I have only a few minutes
to write. At Kohimarama, in my solitary glory on
board the schooner, I will write a regular despatch
to you.
Enough to say now, that the scenery of New
Zealand quite answers my expectations. The
people at the various settlements are very kind and
friendly. The work is wholly new, and in many ways
quite different from what I expected, e.g. my duties
as inspector of pots, pans, hammocks, &c., as pur-
veyor of meat, bread and vegetables, as accountant
general, and pacifier in ordinary of all quarrels,
discontents, murmurings, &c., among sailors and
officers, as tutor to two rough young colonial youths
that the Bishop brought from the South, hoping
the Archdeacon will lick them into shape at the
College. All tlicse things are new, and {I confess)
rather distasteful to me, but I am getting more
accustomed to llic various dulics that were at first
1856.] Maori Sermon 239
really hard, and hope to think nothing of them
soon.
I have just heard that the south side of Sevastopol
is deserted by the Russians in consequence of the
French having taken the Malakhoff — gallant fellows.
They say, too, that all the Russian shipping is
destroyed. I trust this will speedily bring matters
to an end. Day and night I think of L., and pray
God to keep him safe and sound, and bring him back
with honour and glory to his dear little wife. I quite
dread to read the despatches, they are so full of
horrors. But here I shall find a large heap of
' Guardians,' and I must read up the events of the
last few months, while you are impatient if you have
to wait two days.
Pray tell Mr. I found out his son's grave at
Wellington. It is a beautiful situation, overlooking
the north harbour, with other graves around, and
the whole space was consecrated on Monday by the
Bishop. I shall hope when I go again to plant a
willow there.
Always your affectionate nephew,
J, C. Patteson.
The journal-letters continue on the 17th of January.
* Wrote a Maori sermon this morning, not feeling able
yet to preach extempore in the native language,
though it is much better to do so as soon as I can.
Now I must stick to the vessel again. I have been
quite frisky, really, for two days past, and have
actually slept on shore, the fourth time since
September 24. The sensation is exceedingly
pleasant of firm ground underneath and clean water,
a basin, &c., to wash in. And yet I almost like
coming back to my ship home : it is really very
240 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. VI
comfortable, and you know I always liked being- a
good deal alone. I am reading, for lightish reading,
the first part of the third volume of Neander's
Church History, which is all about Missions. It is
the fifth volume in the way his works are usually
bound up, and came out in this box the other day.
It is very interesting, especially to me now, and it is
curious to observe how much the great men insisted
upon the necessity of attending to the more secular
part of missionary work, — agriculture, fishing, and
other means of humanizing the social condition of
the heathen among whom they lived. Columbanus
and Boniface, and his pupil Gregory, and others {all
the German Missionaries, almost) just went on the
plan the Bishop wants to work out here.
' 2 P.M. I am off to Otaki to see my native parish-
ioners. What different work from calling in at S.
W.'s and other good Alhngtonians ! The walk will
be pleasant, especially as I have been grinding away
at navigation all the morning. My stupid head gets
puzzled at that kind of work ; and yet it is very good
for me, just because it requires accuracy.
' 2c^th. Just as I am beginning to get some hold
of the Maori, so as to make real use of it, the Island
lanoruacyes are becjinnino- to come into work. I have
a curious collection here now — some given by the
Judge, who is a great philologist, others belonging
to the Bishop — a MS. grammar here, one chapter
of St. Mark in another language, four Gospels in a
third, a few chapters of Kings with the Lord's
Prayer in a fourth, besides Marsden's Malay grammar
and lexicon. Mrs. Nihill has cfiven me some few
sheets of the Nengon6 language, and also lent me
her husband's MS. grammar. One letter, written
X, but pronounced a sort of rg in the throat, yet
1856.] Acting Master of the ' Southern Cross' 241
not like an ordinary guttural, she declares took two
years to learn. You may fancy I have enough to
do, and then all my housekeeping affairs take up a
deal of time, for I not only have to order things, but
to weigh them out, help to cut out and weigh the
meat, &c,, and am quite learned in the mysteries of
the store-room, which to be sure is a curious place
on board ship. I hope you are well suited with a
housekeeper : if I were at home I could fearlessly
advertise for such a situation. I have passed through
the preliminary steps of housemaid and scullery-
maid, and now, having taken to serving out stores,
am quite qualified for the post, especially after my
last performance of making bread, and even a cake.'
This seems to be the right place for the description
which the wife of Chief Justice Martin gives of Mr.
Patteson at this period. The first meeting, she says,
' was the beginning of an intimate friendship, which
has been one of the great blessings of our lives.
After a short stay at St. John's College, he came
into residence at St. Stephen's native institution, of
which Archdeacon Kissling was then the Principal.
He learned rapidly to read and speak Maori, and
won all hearts there by his gentle unassuming
manners. My husband was at that time a great
invalid, and as our dear friend was living within five
minutes' walk of our house he came in whenever he
had a spare half hour. He used to bring Archer
Butler's sermons to read with us, and I well re-
member the pleasant talks that ensued. The two
minds were drawn together by common tasks and
habits of thought. Both had great facility in
acquiring languages, and interest in all questions of
philology. Both were also readers of German
I. R
242 Life of yohu Coleridge Patteson [Cii. vi.
writers on Church history and of critical interpreta-
tion of the New Testament, and I think it was a
help to the younger man to be able to discuss these
and kindred subjects with an older and more trained
mind. I had heard much of our dear friend before
he arrived, and I remember feeling a little disap-
pointed at first, though much drawn to him by his
gentle affectionate thoughtfulness and goodness.
He said little about his future work. He had come
obedient to the call and was quietly waiting to do
whatever should be set him to do. As my husband
a few months later told Sir John Patteson, there was
no sudden flame of enthusiasm which would die
down, but a steady fire which would go on burning.
To me he talked much of his home. He used to
walk beside my pony, and tell me about " his dear
father " — how lovingly his voice used to linger over
those words ! — of the struggle it had been to leave
him, of the dreariness of the day of embarkation.
Years after he could hardly bear to recall it to mind.
I remember his bright look the first day it became
certain that we must visit England. " Why, then
you will see my dear father, and tell him all about
me ! " I knew all his people quite well before, and
when I went to visit his little parish of Alfington
I seemed to recofjnise each cottacje and its humble
inmates, so faithfully had he described his old people
and haunts.
* One thing that specially impressed me was his
reverent appreciation of the good he had gained
from older friends. He certainly had not imbibed
any of the indifference to the opinion of elders
ascribed to the youth of this generation. " Dear old
tutor," his uncles, Sir John Coleridge and Dr. Cole-
ridge, t(j whom he looked up with almost filial rcver-
1856.] Talks of Home 243
encc, the beloved Uncle Frank, whose holy life and
death he dwelt on with a sort of awe, how gratefully
and humbly he spoke of the help he had got from
them ! He was full of enthusiasm about music, paint-
ing and art in general. He would flow on to willing
listeners of Mendelssohn and other great composers,
and when he found that we hoped to visit Italy he
was just as eager about pictures. He owned that
both at Dresden and at Rome he had weakened his
eyes by constant study of his favourite masters,
' Altogether he gave me the impression of having
had a very happy youth and having enjoyed it
thoroughly. His Eton and Oxford life, the society
of men of thought at his father's house, home
interests, foreign travel, art, happy days with his
brother Jem in the Tyrol, were all entertained as
pleasant memories, and yet he was able without
conscious effort or struggle to put them all aside for
his work's sake.
' The Bishop kindly gave us a passage to Wellington
in the " Southern Cross," and Mr. Patteson went with
us in charge of the vessel. We were five days at
sea. I used to lie on the deck, and watch with
amused interest the struggle going on between his
student habits and his practical duties, which were
peculiarly distasteful to him. He was never quite well
at sea, but was headachy and uncomfortable. He was
scrupulously neat and clean, and the dirt and stuffiness
displeased him — how much we never knew, till he
spoke out one day when very ill at our house in 1870.^
He was not apt at teaching, but he used conscientiously
to hear a young lad spell and read daily. He would
^ This was after some years of partially failing health, when these
feelings had become habitual. I do not think they existed in his earlier
voyages.
R 2
244 Life of yohn Colei'idge Pattcson [Ch. vi.
come up with some book of thought in his hand, and
seemed buried in it, till he suddenly would remember
he ought to be directing or overlooking in some way.
This would happen half a dozen times in an afternoon.
' He shrank at this time from finding fault. It was a
positive distress to him. At Wellington we parted.
He seemed a little depressed, I remember, as to
what use he would be. I said : " Why, you will be
the son Timothy so long waited for." His face
brightened up at the thought. " Yes, if I can re-
lease the Bishop of some of his anxieties, that will
be enough." '
No doubt he was depressed at parting with the Chief
Justice and Mrs. Martin, who were thoroughly home-
like friends, and whose return was then uncertain.
His success as a sea-captain however encouraged him,
and he wrote as follows on his return : —
Kohimarama : March 6, 1856. ' Southern Cross.'
My dear Miss Neill, — How kind of you to write
to me, and such a nice long letter. It cost you a
great effort, I am sure, and much pain, I fear ; but I
know it was a comfort to you that it was written,
and indeed it was a great happiness to me to read it.
Oh, these letters ! The intense enjoyment of hearing
about you all at home, I know no pleasure like it
now. Fond as I always was of reading letters and
papers, the real happiness of a mail from England
now is quite beyond the conception of any but a
wanderer in foreign parts. Our mail went out yes-
terday at 2 P.M., rather unluckily for me, as I only
returned from a very rapid and prosperous voyage to
Wellington yesterday morning.
I took the Chief Justice and Mrs. Martin (such
dear, excellent people) to Wellington to meet the
1856.] Voyage to Wellmgton 245
' Seringapatam,' homeward bound from that port ; and
I brought h^iokfrom WeUington the Governor's sick
wife and suite. Only absent a fortnight for a voyage
of 1,100 miles, including three clays' stay at Wel-
ington. The coast of New Zealand is so uncertain,
and the corners so many in coasting from Auckland
to Wellington, that the usual passage occupies seven
or eight days ; and when the ' Southern Cross ' ap-
peared yesterday morning in harbour, I was told by
several of the officers and other residents that they
feared we had/?^^ back from foul weather, or because
the Judge could not bear the motion of the vessel.
They scarcely thought we could actually have been to
Wellington and returned.
Most thankful am I for such a fine passage, for I
had two sets of invalids, the Judge being only now (as
we trust) recovering from a severe illness, and Mrs.
Martin very weakly ; and I felt the responsibility of
having the charge of them very much. This was
my second trip as ' Commodore,' the Bishop still
being on his land journey ; but we .expect him in
Auckland at the end of the month. As you may
suppose, I am getting on with my navigation, take
sights, of course, and work out errors of watches,
place of ship, &c. ; it is pretty and interesting work,
and though you know well enough that I have no
turn for mathematics, yet this kind of thing is rendered
so easy nowadays by the tables that are constructed
for nautical purposes, that I do not think I should
feel afraid of navigating a ship at all. The ' sea-
manship ' is another thing, and that the master of the
ship is responsible for. . , .
You ask me, dear Miss Neill, where I am settled.
Why, settled, I suppose I am never to be : I am a
missionary, you know, not a 'stationary.' But, how-
246 Life of yoliii Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
ever, my home is the 'Southern Cross,' where I hve
always in harbour as well as at sea, highly compas-
sionated by all my good friends here, from the
Governor downwards, and highly contented myself
with the sole possession of a cosy little cabin nicely
furnished with table, lots of books, and my dear
father's photograph, which is an invaluable treasure
and comfort to me. In harbour I live in the cabin.
It is hung round with barometers (aneroids), sympie-
someters, fixed chest for chronometers, charts, &c.
Of course, wherever the ' Southern Cross ' goes I go
too, and I am a most complete skipper. I feel as
natural with my quadrant in my hand as of old with
a cricket bat. Then I do rather have good salt-
water baths, and see glorious sunsets and sunrises, and
star-light nights, and the great many-voiced ocean,
the winds and waves chiming all night with a solemn
sound, lapping against my ear as I lie in my canvas
bed, six feet by two and a half, and fall sound asleep
and dream of home. Oh ! there is much that is
really enjoyable in this kind of life ; and if the cares
of the vessel, management of men, &c., do harass
me sometimes, it is very good for me ; security from
such troubles having been anxiously and selfishly
pursued by me at home.
If it please God to give success to our mission work,
I may some day be ' settled ' (if I live) on some one
of the countless islands of the South Pacific, looking
after a kind of Protestant Propaganda College for the
education of teachers and missionaries from among
the islanders, but this is all uncertain.
Now good-bye, my dear Miss Neill. I never doubt
that in all your sufferings God does administer abun-
dant sources of consolation to you. Even my life, so
painless and easy, is teaching me that we judge of
1856.J Clerical Work 247
these things by a relative standard only, and I can
conceive of one duly trained and prepared for heaven
that many most blessed anticipations of future rest
may be vouchsafed in the midst of extreme bodily
pain. It is in fact a kind of martyrdom, and
truly so when borne patiently for the love of
Christ.
Always, my dear Miss Neill,
Your very affectionate,
J-. C. Patteson.
The Sundays were days of little rest. Clergy were
too scarce for one with no fixed cure not to be made
available to the utmost, and the undeveloped state of
the buildings and of all appliances of devotion fell
heavily and coldly on one trained to beauty, both of
architecture and music, though perhaps the variety of
employment was the chief trial. His Good Friday and
Easter Sunday's journal show the sort of work that
came on him.
Ta7ira7nca, Good Friday. — I am tired, for walking about
in a hot sun, with a Melanesian kit, as we call them,
slung round the neck, with clothes and books, is really
fatiguing. Yesterday and to-day are just samples
of colonial work. Thursday, 7.30, prayers in chapel ;
10.30, Communion service in chapel. Walked two
miles to see a parishioner of the Archdeacon's. 1.30,
dinner ; 2.30, walked to Taurarua, five and a half
miles, in a burning sun ; walked on to Mr. T's and
back, three miles and a half more. 7, tea, wrote a
sermon, and went to bed. To-day, service and
sermon for 600 soldiers at 9 ; Communion service
and preached at if. Back to Taurarua after three
miles' walk, on to the College, and read prayers at 7.
Not much work, it is true, but disjointed, and there-
248 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vi.
fore more fatiguing. I do sometimes long almost for
the rest of English life, the quiet evening after the
busy day ; but I must look on to a peaceful rest by
and by ; meanwhile work away, and to be sure I have
a grand example in the Bishop.
Easter Day. — I was at Tamaki chapel, a cold, bare,
barn-like building of scoria, all this country being of
volcanic origin. Fifty persons present perhaps: two or
three faint female voices, two or three rough most
discordant male voices, all the attempt at singing. No
instrument of any kind. The burthen of trying to
raise the tone of the whole service to a really rejoic-
ing thankful character wholly, I suppose, upon my-
self, and I so unequal to it. But the happy blessed
services themselves, they gradually absorbed the
mind; and withdrew it from all relative and compara-
tive ideas of externals of worship. What a training
it is here for the appreciation of the wondrous beauty
of our Church services, calming all feeling of excite-
ment and irreverent passionate zeal, and enabling
one to give full scope to the joy and glory of one's
heart, without, I hope, forgetting to rejoice with
reverence and moderation. Here, at Tamaki, you
have nothing but the help the services themselves
give, and I suppose that is very good for one in
reality, though at the time it makes one feel as if
something was wanting in the hearty sympathy and
support of earnest fellow worshippers. The College
chapel nicely decorated.
\st Sunday after Easter: Tatirarua. — I walked in
from the College yesterday afternoon, took the sol-
diers' service at 9. 1 5 a.m., Communion service and
sermon at St. Matthew's at 11, Hospital at 2.30.
Preached at St. Paul's at 6 p.m., reminding me of my
Sunday's work wlien I was living at St. Stephen's.
1856.] End of the First Year 249
It is a comfort to have a Sunday in Auckland occa
sionally — more like a Sunday, with a real church, and
people responding and singing.
So passed that first year, which many an intending
missionary before Patteson has found a crucial test
which he has not taken into his calculations. The
soreness of the wrench from home is still fresh, and
there is no settled or regular work to occupy the mind,
while the hardships are exactly of the kind that have
not been anticipated, and are most harassing, though
unsatisfying to the imagination, and all this when the
health is adapting itself to a new climate, and the
spirits are least in tune, so that the temper is in the
most likely condition to feel and resent any apparent
slight or unexpected employment. No one knows
how many high hopes have sunk, how many intended
workers have been turned aside, by this ordeal of the
first year.
Patteson, however, was accepting whatever was dis-
tasteful as wholesome trainino: in the endurance of
hardships, and soon felt the benefit he reaped from it.
The fastidiousness of his nature was being conquered,
his reluctance to rebuke forced out of being a hin-
drance, and no doubt the long-sought grace of humility
was rendered far more attainable by the obedient fulfil-
ment of these lowly tasks.
250 L ifc of John Co leridge Pattesou [c h. v 1 1 .
CHAPTER VII.
THE MELANESIAN ISLES
1 856-1857
And now, in his twenty-ninth year, after all the un-
conscious preparation of his education, and the con-
scious preparation of two years, Coleridge Patteson
began the definite work of his life. Bishop Selwyn
was to sail with him in the ' Southern Cross,' making the
voyage that had been intermitted during the expedi-
tion to England, introducing him to the Islands, and
testing his adaptation to the work there. The first
point was, however, to be Sydney, with the hope of
obtainine leave to use Norfolk Island as the head-
quarters of the Mission. They meant to touch there,
weather permitting, on their way northward.
Ascension Day was always Bishop Selwyn's favourite
time for starting, so that the charge might be ringing
freshly in his ears and those of his companions, ' Go
ye and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name
of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost.'
There was morning service and Holy Communion at
the little College chapel on the ist of May, Ascension
Day of 1856; then the party went on board, but
their first start was only to Coromandel Bay, in order
that the Uishop might arrange a dispute with the
Maoris, and they then returned to Auckland to take
up Mrs. Sel\v)n. The crew were five in number.
MEL ATRESIA
IrfMMlon.MacJiuUan X'T!
StoTiford^-,- Seoa. Estabt London.-.
1856.] Hitrricane 251
and Mr. Leonard Harper, son of the future Bishop of
Lyttelton, Hkewise accompanied them, and reHeved
Patteson of his onerous duties as steward.
The first adventure was such a storm as the httle
vessel had never yet encountered. The journal-letter
thus describes it : — ' On Saturday morning it began to
blow from the north-east, and for the first time I
experienced a circular gale or hurricane. Mrs.
Somerville, I think, somewhere describes the nature
of them in her " Physical Geography." The wind
veered and hauled about a point or two, but blew
from the north-east with great force, till about
seven p.m. we could do no more with it and had to
lie to. Ask old D. what that means, if you can't
understand my description of it. The principle of
it is to set two small sails, one fore and one aft, lash
the rudder (wheel) amidships, make all snug, put on
hatches, batten everything down, and trust to ride
out the storm. As the vessel falls away from the
wind by the action of one sail, it is brought up to it
again by the other sail. Thus her head is always
kept to the wind, and she meets the seas, which if
they caught her on the beam or the quarter would
very likely send her down at once. About
midnight on Saturday the wind suddenly chopped
round to W.S.W., so that we were near the focus of
the gale ; it blew harder and harder till we took down
the one sail forward, as the ropes and spars were
enough for the wind to act upon. From i p.m. to
7 P.M. on Sunday it blew furiously. The whole sea
was one drift of foam, and the surface of the water
beaten down almost flat by the excessive violence of
the wind, which cut off the head of every wave as
it strove to raise itself, and carried it in clouds of
spray and great masses of water, driving and hurling
252 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
it against any obstacle, such as our little vessel, with
inconceivable fury. As I stood on deck, gasping
for breath, my eyes literally unable to keep them-
selves open, and only by glimpses getting a view of
this most grand and terrible sight, it seemed as if a
furious snow-storm was rap-inof over a swelling,
heaving, dark mass of waters. When anything
could be seen beyond the first or second line of
waves, the sky and sea appeared to meet in one
cataract of rain and spray. A few birds were
driving about like spirits of the storm. It was, as
Shakspeare calls it, a regular hurly. Add to this the
straining of the masts, the creaking of the planks,
the shrill whistle of the wind in the ropes and
cordage, the occasional crash of a heavy sea as it
struck us with a sharp sound, and the rush of water
over the decks, down the companion and hatches,
that followed, and you have a notion of a gale of
wind. And yet this was far from all the wind and
sea can do, and we were never in any danger, I
believe. That is, an unlucky sea at such a time
may be fatal, and if anything about the schooner had
been unsound it might have been awkward. At
prayers, the Bishop read the prayer to be used in a
storm, but I never myself entertained the idea of our
being really in peril, nor did I suffer anything like the
anxiety that I did when we were rounding Cape
Palliser on our way to Wellington with the Judge.
Here we had sea room and no fear of driving upon
rocks. It is blowing a good deal now, as you see
by my writing. I have a small ink-bottle of glass,
made like an eel-pot (such as tax-gatherers use), tied
to my buttonhole, and with this I can scribble away
in almost any sea. Dear me ! you could not sit
still a minute, evcMi now. I w^as qualmish on
1856.] Landing in Norfolk Island 253
Saturday, and for a minute sick, but pretty comfortable
on Sunday, though wearied by the constant pitching
and rolHng.'
The day after this, namely May 16, the Bishop
and Mr. Patteson rowed into Cascade Bay, Norfolk
Island, amid a heavy surf, but they saw no cascade, as
there had been no rain for a long- time ; and there
were only rocks surmounted by pine trees, no living
creature, no landing-place, as they coasted along. At
last they saw a smooth-looking rock with an iron
staple, and concluding that it was the way of approach,
they watched their time, and through the surf which
broke over it they leapt on it, and dashed ashore
before the returning swell caught them. They walked
inland, and met a man, one of twelve convicts who had
been left behind to receive the Pitcairners, who had
not yet arrived, but were on their way from their ori-
ginal island in H.M.S, 'Juno.' The vegetation and
climate struck them as beautiful ; there were oranges,
lemons, sweet potatoes, and common potatoes, and
English vegetables, and the Norfolk Island pine
growing to a great height : ' but,' writes Coley, ' it is
coarser in the leaf and less symmetrical in shape
than I had expected. I thought to have seen the
tree of Veitch's nursery garden on a scale three or
four times as large, and so I might have done in
any of the gardens ; but as they grow wild in the
forest, they are not so very different from the more
common fir tribe.'
They saw one house, but had little time, and getting
down to the smooth rock, stood there, barefooted, till
the boat could back in between the rollers ; the Bishop
leapt in at the first, and the boat made off at once, and
till it could return, Patteson had to cling to the clamps
254 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. vii.
to hinder himself from being washed off, as six or
seven waves broke over him before the boat could
come near enough for another spring. These diffi-
culties in landing were one of the recommendations of
the island, by isolating the future inhabitants from the
demoralisino- visits of chance vessels.
Then followed some days of great enjoyment of the
calm warmth of the semi-tropical winter, chiefly varied
by catching a young shark, and contrasting him with
his attendant pilot, as the ugliest and prettiest of fish.
Patteson used the calm to write (May 30) one of his
introspective letters, owning that he felt physical dis-
comfort, and found it hard to banish 'recollections
of clean water, dry clothes, and drink not tasting
like medicine ; but that he most of all missed the
perfect unconstrained ease of home conversation.'
Then he continues : —
But now, don't you see, Fan, how good this is for
me ? If you think impartially of me, as you re-
collect me, you will see how soft and indolent I was,
how easily I fell into self-indulgent habits, how
little I cared to exert myself and try and exercise
the influence, etc., a clergyman may be supposed to
possess ; there was nothing about me to indicate
energy, to fit me for working out a scheme and
stamping my own mind upon others who came in
contact with me. Perhaps there is no one person
who can trace any sensible influence to anything I
ever did or said.
Now I don't of course venture to say that this is
otherwise now ; but I think that this is the best
training to make it so. I think that I ought to be
gaining strcngtli of purpose, resolution, energy of
character, under these circumstances. And observe.
i8s6.] Training 255
what should I be without some such change press-
ing on me ? Just imagine me, such a one as I was
at Alfington, alone on an island with twenty-five
Melanesian boys, from half as many different islands,
to be trained, clothed, brought into orderly habits,
etc., the report of our proceedings made in some
sort the test of the working of the Mission ; and all
this to be arranged, ordered, and worked out by me,
who found H. B and W. P a care too great
for me.
Don't you see that I must become very different
from what I was — more of a man ; to say nothing
of the higher and religious side of this question.
While then there is much that my carnal self-indul-
gent nature does not at all like, and while it is always
trying to rebel, my better sense and the true voice
within tells me that, independently of this particu-
lar work requiring such a discipline, the discipline
itself is good for the formation of my own charac-
ter . . . Oh ! the month of June at Feniton ! the
rhododendrons, azaleas, and kalmias, the burst of
flowers and trees, the song of thrush and blackbird
(both unknown to New Zealand). The green
meadows and cawing rooks, and church towers and
Sunday bells, and the bright sparkling river and
leaping trout : and the hedges with primrose and
violet (I should like to see a hedge again) ; and I am
afraid I must add the green peas and beans, and
various other garden productions, which would make
salt pork more palatable ! Yes, I should like to see
it all again ; but it is of the earth after all, and I have
the * many-twinkling smile of Ocean,' though there
is no soft woodland dell to make it more beautiful
by its contrast. Well, I have had an happy hour
scribbling away, and now to work.
256 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vil.
' I am less distressed now,' he adds, a few days later,
in the same strain, ' at the absence of all that
is customary in England on these occasions (great
festivals), though I dare not say how far the loss of
all these privileges produces a bad effect upon my
heart and character. One often loses the spirit
when the form is withdrawn, and I still sorely long
for the worship of God in the beauty of holiness,
and my mind reverts to Ottery Church and College
Chapels, and vast glorious Cathedrals.'
On the loth of June the 'Southern Cross' was in
Sydney harbour, and remained there a fortnight. Bishop
Barker gladly welcoming the new arrivals, though in
general Bishop Selwyn and his Chaplain announced
themselves as like the man and woman in the weather-
glass, only coming out by turns, since one or other had
to be in charge of the ship ; but later an arrangement
was made which set them more at liberty. And the
churches at Sydney were a great delight to Patteson ;
the architecture, music and all the arrangements being
like those amonfj which he had been trained.
' A Sunday worth a dozen gales of wind ! ' he exclaims,
' but you can hardly judge of the effect produced by
all tlic good substantial concomitants of Divine
worship upon one who for fourteen months has
scarcely seen anything but a small wooden church,
with almost all the warmth of devotion restinsf on
himself. I feel roused to the core ... I felt the
blessing of worshipping the Lord with a full heart
in the beauty of holiness. A very good organ well
played, and my joy was great when we sang the
long 78th Psalm to an old chant of itself almost
enough to upset mc, the congregation singing in
j)arts with heart and voice.'
1856.] Description of Sydney 257
His exhilaration showed itself in a letter to his little
cousin, Paulina Martyn.
* Southern Cross,' Sydney Harbour : June i8, 1856.
My darling Pena, — Are you so anxious to have a
letter from me, and do you think I am going to
forget all about you ? However, you have had long
before this two or three letters from me, I hope, and
when I write to grandpapa or grandmamma or
mamma, you must always take it as if a good deal
was meant for you, for I have not quite so much
time for writing as you have, I dare say, in spite of
music and French and history and geography and
all the rest of it. But I do dearly love to write to
you when I can, and you must be quite certain that
I shall always do so as I have opportunity.
Don't you ever talk to me about any of your
English watering places and sea-port towns ! No
one knows anything about what an harbour can be
for perfect beauty of earth, air, and sea, for wooded
banks and rocky heights, and fine shipping and
handsome buildings, and all the bustle and stir of a
town of 80,000 inhabitants somehow lost and hidden
among gum trees and Norfolk Island pines and
parks and gravel walks ; and everywhere the mag-
nificent sea view breaking in upon the eye. Don't
be angry, darling, for I love Dawlish very much,
and would sooner go and sail the ' Mary Jane' with
you in some dear little basin among the rocks at low
tide, and watch all the little crabs and other creatures
with long Latin names, than walk about Sydney,
arm-in-arm with the Bishops of New Zealand and
Newcastle, to call on the Governor. But I must
say what I think about the natural scenery of places
that I visit, and nowhere, even in New Zealand — no,
258 Life of Jo Jin Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. vii.
not even in Queen Charlotte's Sound, nor in Banks's
Peninsula, have I seen anything so completely beau-
tiful as this harbour — ' Keoi ano,' ' that's enough.'
The Governor told us yesterday that when he was
at Hobart Town, he made the convicts cut a j^ath
through one of the deep gullies running down from
a mountain 4,500 feet high to the sea. The path
was two miles long, and all the way the tree-ferns,
between twenty and thirty feet high, formed a natu-
ral roof arched and vaulted like the fretted roofs
of our Tudor churches and chapels. There is a
botanical garden here with a very good collection of
all the Australian trees and shrubs, and with many
New Zealand and many semi-tropical plants be-
sides. All the English flowers and fruits grow here
as well, so that in the warmer months it must look
beautiful. It is close to the sea, which runs here
in little creeks and bays close up among the public
walks and buildings ; and as the shore is all rocky
and steep at low water, there is no mud or swamp
or seaweed, but only clear green water quite deep
and always calm and tranquil, because the harbour is
so broken up and diversified by innumerable islets,
gulfs, &c., that no wind can raise any sea of conse-
quence in it.
Just now it is winter time — slight frost at night,
but no appearance of it after the sun is up ; bright
hot days, and bracing cold nights, the very perfection
of a climate in winter, but in summer very hot. It
is so funny to me to see regular stone and brick
houses, and shops, and carriages, and cabs, &c., all
quite new to me.
To-niglit there is a great missionary meeting —
Bishoi)s of Sydney, New Zealand, and Newcastle
present. ])ishop of Newcastle and a Mr. King
1856.] Pttd lie Meeting at Sydney 259
advocate the cause of the Austrahan blacks, and
the Bishop of New Zealand and unfortunate I have
to speechify about Melanesia. What on earth to say
I don't know, for of course the Bishop will exhaust
the subject before me.
However, I must try and not be in a great fright ;
but I would sooner by half be going to have a talk
with a parcel of Maoris, Now, you must get
Fanny Patteson to tell you all about our voyage
from New Zealand, our adventure at Norfolk
Island, &c.
We sail on Monday, 23rd, for Norfolk Island again,
as it is in our way to the Solomon group, because
we shall get the S.E. trades just about there, and
so run away in style to the Solomon Islands, and
perhaps farther north still, but that is not probable
this time.
Always, my darling,
Your affectionate cousin,
J. C. Patteson.
This meeting was called by the Australian Board of
Missions to receive information or propositions con-
cerning the missions to the Australians and Melane-
sians. Bishop Barker of Sydney was in the chair,
and the Bishop of Newcastle, who had made one
Melanesian cruise in the ' Border Maid,' was likewise
present. The room was crowded to excess, and from
900 to 1,000 were certainly present, many more failing
to get in. Afterwards Patteson writes to his father : —
* The Bishop of New Zealand, in introducing me to
the meeting, spoke before all these people of you
and me in a way that almost unnerved me, and I
had to speak next. What he said is not reported,
or very badly — calling me his dear friend, with his
voice quivering — I never saw him more, or so much
s 2
26o Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vil.
affected — " I ought to be most thankful to God for
giving me so dear a companion, &c." But he spoke
so of you, and people here seemed to know of you,
coming up to me, and asking about you, after the
meeting. The Bishop of Newcastle spoke of you
most kindly, and really with very great feeling. An
evening I had dreaded ended happily. Before I
dined with the three Bishops ; last night with Chief
Justice Sir Alfred Stephen, and met the trio again.
Bishop everywhere speaking of me as one of his
family. " No, my boys are not with me ; but we
have my dear friend Mr. Patteson." Of course all this
exhibition of feeling never comes out when we are
alone, we know each other too well. And now the
romance oi Mission work is over, and the real labour
is to begin. There has been bad work among the
islands lately, but you know in whose hands we are.'
The collections both at the door and on the following
Sunday were very large, and a strong warm feeling was
excited in Sydney which has never since died away.
Mr. Patteson was much beloved there, and always met
with kind welcome and ready assistance from all classes.
But tl>ere was one great disappointment. The Bishop
of New Zealand, on formally setting before Sir William
Denison, Governor-General of Australia, his plan for
making Norfolk Island the site of a school for train-
ing Melancsian teachers, and eventually the seat of a
Bishopric, received a refusal, and was not permitted
even to place a chaplain there. Sir William, as he
tells us in his published diary, had heard from some
quarter or otiier rumours respecting the Melanesian
scholars whicli made him suppose that their presence
might have a bad effect upon the Pitcairners ; and
repeated that his instructions were that the islanders
1856.] The Pitcairners 261
should be left as much as possible to themselves. The
request to be permitted to place Mr. Patteson there
was refused on the ground that Norfolk Island belonged
to the see of Tasmania, and not to that of New Zea-
land. But the Bishop of Tasmania could hardly visit
it without great inconvenience, and he had therefore
placed it under the care of his brother of New Zealand,
full in whose track it lay. The matter was referred to
the Colonial Secretary, and in the meantime Bishop
Selwyn adhered to his purpose of visiting it on leaving
Sydney, and though he could not place his chaplain
there, leaving Mrs. Selwyn to assist in the work of
training the new comers to the novelties of a more
temperate climate and a more genial soil than they
had known on the torrid rock of Pitcairn's Island.
Accordingly, on the 4th of July, the ' Southern
Cross ' again approached the island, and finding that
the Pitcairners had come, and that their magistrate and
Mr. Nobbs, their clergyman, would gladly welcome
assistance, the Bishop brought Mrs. Selwyn on shore,
and left her there to assist Mr. Nobbs in preparing the
entire population to be confirmed on his return. But
the Pitcairners have been amply written about, and as
Coleridge Patteson's connection with them was only
incidental, I shall not dwell on them or their history.
The ' Southern Cross ' reached Anaiteum on the 14th
of July. This island was occupied by Mr. Inglis and
Mr. Geddie, of the Scottish Presbyterian Mission, who
had done much towards improving the natives. Small
canoes soon began to come off to the vessel, little craft
consisting of no more than the trunk of a tree hollowed
out, seldom more than a foot broad, and perhaps
eighteen inches deep, all with outriggers — namely, a
slight wooden frame or raft to balance them, and for
the most part containing two men, or sometimes three
262 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. vil.
or four. Before long, not less than fifteen or twenty
had come on board, with woolly hair and mahogany
skins, generally wearing a small strip of calico, but
some without even this. They were small men, but
lithe and supple, and walked about the deck quite at
ease, chattering in a language no one understood except
the words ' Missy Inglis,' as they pointed to a house.
Presently another canoe arrived with a Samoan teacher
with whom the Bishop could converse, and who said
that Mr. Geddie was at Mare. They were soon fol-
lowed by a whale boat with a Tahitian native teacher,
a Futuma man, and a crew of Anaiteans.
* The Futuma man had expended his energies upon his
hair, which was elaborately dressed after a fashion
that precluded the possibility of any attention being
bestowed upon the rest of his person, which was ac-
cordingly wholly unencumbered with any clothing.
The perfection of this art apparently consisted in
gathering up about a dozen hairs and binding them
firmly with grass or fine twine of cocoa-nut fibre
plastered with coral lime. As the hair grows, the
binding is lengthened also, and only about four or
five inches are suffered to escape from this confine-
ment, and are then frizzed and curled, like a
mop or a poodle's coat. Leonard Harper and I
returned in this boat, Tahitian steering, Samoan,
Futuman, and Anaiteans making one motley crew.
The brisk trade soon carried us to the beach in
front of Mr. Inglis's house, and arrived at the reef
I rode out pick-a-back on the Samoan, Leonard fol-
lowing on a half-naked Anaitean. We soon found
ourselves in the midst of a number of men, women
and chiklrcn, standing round Mr. Liglis at the en-
trance (jf liis garden. I explained to him the reason
of the Bisho])'s being unable to land, that he alone
1856.] Mission Station at Anaitenin 263
knew the harbour on the other side of island, and so
could not leave the vessel.
Then, having delivered the boxes and letters we
had brought for him from Auckland, we went into
his house, gazing with delight at cocoa-nut trees,
bananas, breadfruit trees, citrons, lemons, taro, &c.,
with bright tropical colouring thrown over all, lighting
up the broad leaves and thick foliage of the trees
around us.
The house itself is built, after the fashion of these
islands, of wattle plastered with coral lime, the roof
thatched with the leaves of the cocoa-nut and pan-
dana ; the fences of the garden were made of cane,
prettily worked together into a cross pattern ; the
path neatly kept, and everything looking clean and
tidy. We sat down in a small, well-furnished room,
and looked out upon the garden, verandah, and
groups of men and women standing outside. Pre-
sently Mrs. Inglis came into the room, and after
some discussion I was persuaded to stay all night,
since the schooner could not reach her anchorage
before dark, and the next day the water-casks were
to be jBlled.
An excellent dinner was provided : roast fowl with
taro, a nutritious root somewhat like potato, rice and
jam, bananas and delicious fruit, bread and Scotch
cheese, with glasses of cocoa-nut milk.
Afterwards he showed us the arrangements for
boarding young men and women — twelve of the
former, and fourteen of the latter. Nothing could
well exceed the cleanliness and order of their houses,
sleeping rooms, and cooking rooms. The houses,
wattled and plastered, had floors covered with native
mats, beds laid upon a raised platform running round
the inner room, mats and blankets for covering, and
264 Life of fo/ni Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
bamboo cane for a pillow. The boys were, some
writing, some making twine, some summing, when
we went in ; the girls just putting on their bonnets,
of their own manufacture, for school.
They learn all household work — cooking, hem-
ming, sewing, &c. ; the boys tend the poultry, cows,
cultivate taro, make arrowroot, &c. All of them
could read fluently, and all looked happy, clean, and
healthy. The girls wear their native petticoats of
cocoa-nut leaves, with a calico body. Boys wear
trousers, and some had shirts, some waistcoats, and
a few jackets.
We walked about a small wood adjoining the house,
through which a small fresh-water stream runs. In
the wood we saw specimens of the various trees and
shrubs, and flowers of the island, including those
already noticed in Mr. Inglis's garden, and the bread-
fruit tree and sugar-cane, and a beautiful bright flower
of scarlet colour, a convolvulus, larger than any I
had ever seen elsewhere ; also a, tree bearing a very
beautiful yellow flower.
We then returned to the house, and shortly after-
wards went to the church, which is at present used
also as the school-house, though the uprights of a
larger school-house are already fixed in the ground.
Men, women, and children to the number of
ninety-four had assembled in a large oblong building,
wattled and plastered, with open windows on all sides ;
mats arranged on the floor, and a raised platform or
bench running round the building for persons who
prefer to sit after the English, instead of the native
fashion.
All that were called upon to read did so fluently ;
the singing was harsh and nasal enough, but in very
good lime ; their coiiiuing very good, and their writing
1856.] Walk through Anaiteum 265
on slates quite equal to the average performance, I
am satisfied, of a good English parish school. They
listened attentively when Mr. Inglis spoke to them,
and when at his request I said a few words, which he
translated. The most perfect order and quiet pre-
vailed all the time we were in the school. At the
end of the lessons they came forward, and each
one shook hands with Leonard Harper and myself,
smiling and laughing with their quick intelligent
eyes, and apparently pleased to see strangers among
them.
By this time it was dusk, and we went back to the
Mission House, and spent a pleasant evening, asking
and answering questions about Anaiteum and the
world beyond it, until 8 p.m., when the boarders
came to prayers, with two or three persons who live
about the place. They read the third chapter of
St. Matthew's Gospel in turns, verse by verse, and
then a prayer from Mr. Inglis followed. At 8.30
we had private family prayers, and at 9 went to
bed.
July i6th. — We got up at four, and were soon ready
for our walk to the south side of the island ; Mr.
Inelis came with us, and ten or twelve natives. For
the first half mile we walked along the beach among
cocoa-nut trees, bananas and sugar-canes, the sun,
not yet above the horizon, tinging the light clouds
with faint pink and purple lines, the freshness of the
early dawn, and the soft breeze playing about us,
gladdening at once our eyes and our hearts. Soon
we struck off to the south, and passing through taro
plantations, began to ascend the slopes of the island.
As we walked along we heard the sound of the logs
beaten together, summoning the people to attend the
various schools planted in every locality, under the
266 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
management of native teachers, and we had a good
opportunity of observing the careful system of irri-
gation adopted by the natives for the cultivation of
the taro plant. Following the course of a small
mountain stream, we observed the labour with which
the water was brought down from it upon causeways
of earth, carried in baskets from very considerable
distances ; occasionally the watercourse is led round
the head of various small ravines ; at other times
the trunk of a tree is hollowed out and converted
into an aqueduct ; but no pains have been wanting
to make every provision for the growth of the staple
food of the island.
The last school here on the north side of the
island is about two miles from the coast, and from
this point the path is very steep, stony, and slippery,
and occasionally requires the use of hands as well
as feet ; but to our amusement, and advantage too,
as it turned out, two natives attached themselves to
us, and were always at hand to catch us if we slipped,
and help us up a rock, or carry us across a stream —
willing, good-natured fellows, laughing and chattering
away, and waiting upon us in a style that I had
hitherto supposed to be exclusively oriental.
The scenery of the uplands of this island is ex-
cessively beautiful ; rich masses of forest with deep
intersecting valleys, undulating slopes, brakes and
woods, streams and torrents, and occasionally glimpses
of the lower plains by the sea-side, the clearings
for cultivation, the cocoa-nut trees on the beach, the
lagoon and the coral reef, and the broad open sea be-
yond. We reached Mr. Geddie's station about eleven,
and found the liisliop seated a quarter of a mile from
the settlement, taking shore sights, to the amazement,
no doubt, of the dozen natives who were grouped
1856.] Fate 267
around him ; Hoari (George), the New Zealand boy, very
happy in the possession of a good piece of sugar-cane,
the men engaged in fetching water, the vessel lying
in the lagoon, and all looking as comfortable as
if this island had for centuries been the rendezvous
of traders and missionaries. Scarcely could one
credit the fact that eight years ago there was not
one Christian upon it. Nonwhat, the principal chief
of the island, came from his house to meet us, and
with him some three or four Tanna men, their faces
painted red. Nonwhat has lately been behaving
very well, and showing a disposition to leave off
native customs. Some of these people are going as
pioneers to the two islands which can be seen from
Anaiteum — Tanna with some 6,000 inhabitants per-
haps, a volcano in active operation ; and Futuma
about 600.
From this scene of hope and encouragement the
* Southern Cross ' sailed on the sixteenth, and passing
Erromango, came in sight of Fate, also called
Sandwich, a wooded island beautiful beyond description,
but with a bad character for cannibalism, and where the
Samoan teachers have been murdered. So the approach
was cautious, and the vessel kept a mile from the shore,
and was soon surrounded with canoes, one of them con-
taining a native who had been instructed in Samoa, and
was now acting as teacher.
* The first canoe that came had five men on board.
Girdles of beautifully plaited cocoa-nut fibre round
their wasits were their only clothing, but some had
wreaths of flowers and green leaves round their heads,
and most of them wore mother-of-pearl shells, beads,
&c., round their necks and in their ears. They do
not tattoo, but brand their skins. All five came, and
presently three more, and then another ; but seeing a
268 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
large double canoe with perhaps twenty men in her
coming close, we stood away. Two of our visitors
chose to stay, and we have them on board now :
Alsoff, a man of perhaps forty-five, and Mospa, a very
intelligent young man, from whom I am picking up
words as fast as I can. F. would have laughed to have
seen me rigging them out in calico shirts, buttoning
them up. Mospa gave me his wooden comb, which
they push through their hair, as you ladies do coral
or gold pins at parties. Another fellow whose head
was elaborately frizzled and plastered with coral
lime, departed with one of my common calico
pockethandkerchiefs with my name in Joan's marking.
This is to adorn his head, and, for aught I know, is
the first, and certainly the best specimen of hand-
writing in the island. We hope to call at all these
islands on our way back from the north, but at
present we only dodge a few canoes, &c.
Jtdy 20. — I suppose you like to know all little
things, so I tell you that our Fate friends, being
presented each with a blanket, just wound themselves
up on the cabin floor, one close to Leonard and me,
and slept away in style ; that I soon taught them to
eat with a knife and fork, and to-day have almost
succeeding in making them believe that plum-pudding
(our Sunday dish) is a fine thing.
y7ily 21. — All day we have been very slowly
drifting along the west side of Espiritu Santo. A
grand mountainous chain runs along the whole
island, the peaks we estimate at 4,000 feet high.
This alone is a fine sight — luxuriant vegetation to
nearly the top of the peaks, clouds resting upon the
summit of the range, from the evaporation caused by
the vast amount of vegetable matter.
As we were lying to, about half way along the
1856.] -^^ Mallicolo 269
coast, we espied a brig at anchor close on shore.
Manned the boat and rowed about two miles to the
brig, found it was under the command of a notorious
man among the sandal-wood traders for many a
dark deed of revenge and unscrupulous retaliation
upon the natives. At Nengone he shot three in
cold blood who swam off to his ship, because the
people of the place were said to be about to attempt
to take his vessel. At Mallicolo but lately I fear
he killed not less than eight, though here there was
some scuffling and provocation. For the Nengone
affair he was tried for his life at Sydney, Captain
Erskine and the Bishop having much to do with his
prosecution. He is now dealing fairly (apparently)
with these people, and is certainly on very friendly
terms with them. The Bishop has known him many
years, and baptized some years ago his only child, a
son. We are glad to let these men see that we are
about in these seas, watching what they do ; and the
Bishop said, * Mr. Patteson is come from England
on purpose to look after these islands,' as much as to
say, Now there will be a regular visitation of them,
and outrages committed on the natives will probably
be discovered.
Well, on we rowed, half a mile to shore — such a
lovely scene. A bend in the coral reef made a
beautiful boat harbour, and into it we rowed. Clear
as crystal was the water, bright as tropical sun
at 2.30 P.M. could make it was the foliage on the
shore. Numbers of children and boys were playing
in the water or running about on the rocks and sands,
and there were several men about, all of course
naked, and as they lead an amphibious life they find
it very convenient. They work little ; breadfruit
trees, cocoa-nut trees, and bananas grow naturally,
270 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vil.
and the yam and taro cultivations are weeded and
tended by the women. They have nothing to do
but eat, drink and sleep, and lie on the warm coral
rock, and bathe in the surf.
There was no shyness on the part of the children,
dear little fellows from six to ten clustering round
me, unable to understand my coat with pockets, and
what my socks could be — I seemed to have two or
three skins. The men came up and soon shook
hands, but did not seem to know the custom. A
Nengone man was ashore, and with him I could talk
a little. Soon I was walking on shore arm-in-arm
with him, stark naked, and he was asking me about
Mrs. Nihill and her child. A little boy of the island
held the other hand, and so, leaving the boat, we
walked inland into the bush to see a native village.
Ten minutes' walk brought us to it — cottages all of
bamboos tied together with cocoa-nut fibre, thatched
with leaves, a ridge-pole and sloping roof on either
■ side reaching to the ground. No upright poles or
side- walls ; they were quite open at the two ends, per-
haps 20, 30, or even 40 feet long ; the general appear-
ance clean and healthy. Their food was kept on raised
stages, as in New Zealand, and they had plenty of
earthenware pots and basins, some of good shape, and
all apparently strong and serviceable. Large wooden
or earthenware platters are used for stirring up and
pounding the yams with a heavy wooden pestle, and
they have a peculiar way of scraping the yam, on a
wooded board roughened like a grater, into a pulp,
and then boiling- it into a fine douoh.
They have plenty of pigs and dogs, which they
eat, and some fowls. Spears I saw none, but bows
and arrows. I took a bow cut of a man's hand, and
then an arrow, and fitted it to the string ; he made
1856.] Ma llicolo People 271
signs that he shot birds with it. Clubs they have,
but as far as I saw only used for killing pigs. There
is a good deal of fighting on the island, however.
Recollect with reference to all these places, that an
island fifty or sixty miles long, one mass of forest
with no path, is not like an English county. It
may take months to get an accurate knowledge of one
of them ; we can only at present judge of the parti-
cular spots and bays we touch at. But there is every
indication here of friendliness, of a gentle, soft dis-
position, and I hope we shall take away some of the
boys when we return. I never saw children more
thoroughly attractive in appearance and manner, —
dear little fellows, I longed to bring off some of
them. You would have liked to have seen them
playing with me, laughing and jumping about.
These people don't look half so well when they have
any clothes on, they look shabby and gent-ish ; but
seeing them on shore, or just come out of a canoe,
all glistening with water, and looking so lithe and
free, they look very pleasant to the eye. The colour
supplies the place of clothing. The chief and most
of the men were unfortunately absent at a great feast
held a few miles off, but there were several women
and many children.
We went to their watering place, about a quarter
or half a mile from the beach, a picturesque spot in
a part of the wood to which the water from the hills
is carried in canes of bamboo, supported on cross
sticks. The water was very clear and sweet, and
one of our little o^uides soon had a ofood shower-
bath, standing under the shoot and then walking in
the sun till in a few minutes his orlisteningf skin was
dry again. Coming back we met a man carrying
water in cocoa-nut shells, six or eight hanging by
272 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Cii. Vll.
strings two feet long at each end of a bamboo cane
slung across over his shoulder, nicely balanced and
very pretty. One of our party carried perhaps two
and a half gallons of water in a bamboo stuffed at
the end with grass. About five p.m. we went back
to the schooner and made sail for Bauro (San
Cristoval).
At this place there was a great disappointment
at first in the non-appearance of William Didimang,
an old baptized scholar at St. John's ; and though
he came at last, and dined on board, he had evi-
dently so far fallen away as to be unwilling to
meet the Bishop. The canoes here were remarkably
beautiful, built of several pieces, fastened with a
kind of gum. The shape was light and elegant, the
thwarts elaborately carved with figures of birds or
fish, and the high prow inlaid Vv^ith mother-of-pearl
let into black wood.
As a Sunday at sea was preferable to one among
curious visitors who must be entertained, the
schooner put out to sea to visit one or two other
neifrhbourinof islets, and then to return a^ain to
Bauro.
Rennell Island, where she touched on the 27th,
proved to be inhabited by Maoris. One man, who
swam alone to the vessel, offered the salutation of
rubbing noses. New Zealand fashion, and converse
could be held in that language. Two more joined
him, and spent the night on board in singing a
kaka or song of love for their visitors. Next day
the island was visited. ' Oh the beauty of the deep
clefts in the coral reef, lined with coral, purple, blue,
scarlet, green, and white ! the little blue fishes, the
bright blue starfish, the little land-crabs walking
away witli othcir people's shells. But nothing of
1856.] Bellojia Manners 273
this can be seen by you ; the coral loses its colour,
and who can show you the bright line of surf
breaking the clear blue of this truly Pacific Ocean,
and the tropical sun piercing through masses of
foliage which nothing less dazzling could penetrate.
Our three friends, with two more men, their wives
and children, form the whole population of the south
end of the island at all events, perhaps twenty in all.
I trod upon and broke flowering branches of coral
that you would have wondered at.'
Bellona likewise had a Maori-speaking population.
There was no passage through the reef, so the Bishop
and Patteson took off their coats, one took two hatchets
and the other two adzes, and with a good header,
swan ashore. Walking up the beach, they found a
place in the bush with nine beautiful canoes, with nets,
and large wooden hooks in them, but at first no people ;
and they were leaving their presents in the canoes
when Patteson spied two men, and advanced to them
while the Bishop went back to fetch the goods. After
a rubbing of noses and a Maori greeting, the men
were reassured, and eleven more came up, one a chief
with a spear in his hand. ' I had my straw hat
fastened by a ribbon, which my friend coveted, so I
let him take it, which he did by putting his adze
(my gift) against it, close to my ear, and cutting it
off — not the least occasion to be afraid of them.'
A characteristic comment, certainly ! But there was
no foolhardiness. The Bishop was on the alert, and
when presently he saw his companion linger for a
moment, a quick ' Come along,' was a reminder that
' this was not the beach at Sidmouth.' The pecu-
liar quickness of eye — verily circumspect, though
without the least betrayal of alarm or want of
I. T
274 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
confidence, which was learnt from the need of being
always as it were on guard, was soon learnt likewise
by Patteson, while the air of suspicion or fear was most
carefully avoided. The swim back to the boat was
in water ' too warm, but refreshing,' and ended with a
dive under the boat for the pure pleasure of the thing.
Then, as before arranged, Bauro was revisited on
another part of the coast, where Iri was ready with a
welcome, but Didimang appeared no more. He had
returned to native habits, and had made no attempt at
teaching, but the visits he had made to New Zealand
were not lost, for the Bishop had acquired a knowledge
of the language, and it was moreover established in the
Bauro mind that a voyage in his ship was safe and de-
sirable. This part of Bauro was exceedingly beautiful : —
Here were coral crags, the masses of forest trees,
the creepers literally hundreds of feet long, crawling
along and hanging from the cliffs, the cocoa-nut
trees and bananas, palms, «&:c., the dark figures
on the edge of the rocks looking down upon us from
among the trees, the people assembling on the
bright beach — coral dust as it may be called, for it
was worn as fine as white sand — ^cottages among the
trees, and a pond of fresh water close by, winding
away among the cliffs.
Here a visit was paid to Iri's boathouse, which con-
tained three exquisite canoes, beautifully inlaid ; then
to his house, long, low, and open at the ends, like those
formerly described, but with low wattled side walls.
Along the ridge-pole were ranged twenty-seven skulls,
not yet blackened with smoke, and bones were
scattered outside, for a fight had recently taken place
near at hand. ' In this Golgotha,' the Bishop, using
1856.] Gera Ornaments 275
his little book of Bauro words, talked to the people,
and plainly told them that the Great God hated wars
and cruelty, and such ornaments were horrible in his
sight. Iri took it all in good part, and five boys
willingly accepted the invitation to New Zealand.
One little fellow about eight years old had attached
himself to Coley, clinging about his waist with his
arms, but he was too young to be taken away. Iri
came down to the beach, and waded up to his waist in
the water as the boat put off.
In the night Gera, or Guadalcanar, was reached, a
fine mountainous island with a detached reef. Nume-
rous canoes surrounded the vessel, bringing yams for
barter. Fish-hooks were of no account ; it was small
hatchets that were in request, and the Bauro boys
could hold some sort of converse with the people,
though theirs was quite another dialect. They were
gaily decked out with armlets, frontlets, bracelets, and
girdles of shell, and almost all of them wore, not only
nose-rings, but plugs of wood or mother-of-pearl in the
tip of the nose. One man in particular had a shell
eyelet-hole let into his nose, into which he inserted his '
unicorn decoration. The Bishop amused himself and
Coley by saying, as he hung a fish-hook on this man's
nose-hook, ' Naso siispendis adiinco! Others had six
or eight pieces of wood sticking out from either side of
the nose, like a cat's whiskers. Two young men were
taken from hence, and more would have gone, but it
was not thought well to take married men.
The isle of Mara or Malanta had a very shy popu-
lation, who seemed to live inland, having probably been
molested by the warlike Gera men. It had been sup-
posed that there was a second islet here, but the
* Southern Cross' boat's crew found that what had been
T 2
276 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. vil.
taken for a strait was only the mouth of a large river,
where the casks were filled.
Oh ! the wondrous beauty of the scene, sea and
river alike fringed with the richest foliage, birds
flying about (I saw a large blue bird, a parrot, I
suppose), fish jumping, the perfectly still water, the
mysterious smoke of a fire or two, the call of a man
heard in the bush, just enough of novelty to quicken
me to the full enjoyment of such a lovely bay as no
English eyes save ours have ever seen.
No communication with the native inhabitants
was here accomplished, but at four little flat, cocoa-
nut-covered islets, named after Torres, were the
head-quarters of an English dealer in cocoa-nut oil.
The native race were Maori-speaking, but their inter-
course with sailors had given them a knowledge of
the worst part of the English language, and as usual
it was mournfully plain how much harm our country-
men instil.
The next group, sighted on the i ith of August, had
already a remarkable history, to which Patteson refers in
his journal, with no foreboding of the association those
reefs and bays were to acquire for him, and far more
through him.
Alvaro de Mendana had, in 1567, gone forth from
Peru on a voyage of discovery in the Pacific, and had
then found, and named, most of the Solomon Isles.
Gera and Bauro owed their names of Guadalcanar and
San Cristoval to him. In 1594, he obtained permis-
sion to found a colony on San Cristoval, and set forth
with his wife and four ships. But the Bauro people
were spared that grievous misfortune of a Spanish
settlement ; Mendana missed his way, blundered into
the Marquesas first, and then came upon a cluster of
1856.] Mendands Discoveries 277
islands, one large and beautiful, two small, and one a
volcano in full action.
He called the large island Santa Cruz, and fancied
the natives of the same race he had seen in Bauro,
but they knew nothing of the language he had learnt
there, and though courteous at first, presently dis-
charged their arrows. However, he found a beautiful
harbour on the other side of the island, and a friendly
and dignified old chief called Malope, who in South
Sea fashion exchanged names and presents with him.
Mendana and his wife Dona Ysabel seem to have
wished to be on good terms with the natives, and
taught them to sign the cross, and say amigos, and
they proceeded to found their intended city, but neither
Mendana nor Malope could restrain their followers ;
there were musket-shots on one side and arrow-shots
on the other, and at last, the chief Malope himself
fell into the hands of some Spanish soldiers, who
murdered him. Mendana punished them with death ;
but his own health was fast failing, he died in a few
weeks, and his widow deserted the intended city, and
returned home with the colonists, having probably
bequeathed to the island a distrust of white men.
All this was in Patteson's mind, as he shows by his
journal, as the lovely scenery of Santa Cruz rose on
him. The people came out in canoes with quantities of
yams and taro, of which they knew the full value ; but
the numbers were so large that no ' quiet work ' could
be done, and little was possible to be done but to admire
their costume, armlets, necklaces, plates of mother-of-
pearl, but no nose ornaments. They had strips of a
kind of cloth, woven of reed, and elaborate varieties
of head-gear, some plastering their hair white with
coral lime, others yellow, others red ; others had shaved
half the head with no better implement than a sharp
278 Life of Jo Jm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vil.
shell, and others had produced two lines of bristles,
like hog manes, on a shaven crown. Their decorations
made a great sensation among the Solomon Islanders,
who made offers of exchange of necklaces, &c.
In the evening the schooner made for the volcano,
about three miles off It was a magnificent sight — a
perfect cone, the base of the mountain and all except
the actual cone being under water. The cone was
apparently about 2,000 feet high, clouds hanging about
it near the top, lurid and fiery, increasing the grandeur
of the glow at the summit. Every minute streams
of fire, falling from the top or sides, rushed down the
mount, so that for a space of perhaps half a mile in
breadth the whole cone was always streaked, and some-
times covered with burning masses of stones, cinders,
&c. Rumbling noises were heard only a few times.
About 7 to 9 A.M. we sailed quite round the island,
and saw there that the fiery appearance at night is
not actually fire or flame, but caused by hot burning
stones and masses of scoria, &c., constantly falling
down the sides of the cone, which on the lee side
are almost perpendicular. On the weather side are
cocoa-nut trees, and one small house, but we could
see no people. It was grand to see the great stones
leaping and bounding down the sides of the cone,
clearing 300 or 400 feet at a jump, and springing up
many yards into the air, finally plunging into the
sea with a. roar, and the splash of the foam and
steam combined.
This was on the 12th of August, and here is the en-
suing note, how full noiv of significance, which it would
be faithless to term melancholy : — ' We then went on to
Nukapu, an island completely encircled by a coral
reef. The natives soon came off in canoes, and
1856.] The Santa Cruz Group 279
brought bread-fruit and cocoa-nuts. They spoke a
few words of Maori, but wore their hair Hke the
people of Santa Cruz, and resembled them in the
character of their ornaments and in their general
appearance. They had bows and clubs of the same
kind, tapa stained with turmeric, armlets, earrings
and nose-rings of bone and tortoiseshelL'
Returning to Santa Cruz, a large supply of the pro-
duce was obtained by barter, but the people were still
in such noisy crowds that nothing could be effected be-
yond these commercial transactions.
Tubua was the next ensuing island, a lovely spot
within its encircling ring, over which the Bishop and
Patteson waded, and found thirteen men on the beach.
Patteson went up to the first, tied a bit of red tape round
his head, and made signs that he wanted a cocoa-nut
in exchange for a fish-hook. Plenty were forthcoming ;
but the Bishop, to his companion's surprise, made a
sudden sign to come away, and when the boat was re-
gained he said : * I saw some young men running through
the bush with bows and arrows, and these young gentry
have not the sense to behave well like their parents.'
Vanikoro w^as the next stage. This too had its
history, encircled as it is with a complete reef of
coral, in some parts double. In the year 1785, two
French vessels, which were commanded by Count La
Perouse, and named ' La Boussole ' and ' L' Astrolabe,'
had set forth from Brest on a voyage of discovery in
the Pacific. They made a most discursive survey of
that ocean, from Kamtschatka southwards, and at the
end of 1787 were at the Samoan Isles, then uncon-
verted, and where their two boat's crews were mas-
sacred, and the boats lost. The ships came to Port
Jackson, in Australia, to build fresh boats, left it in
28o Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
February 1788, and were never heard of more. One
or two attempts were made to ascertain their fate,
but none succeeded till, in 1826, a sandal-wood trader
named Dillon found in the possession of a European,
who had lived since 18 13 in Ticopia, the silver guard
of a sword, and ascertained from him that the natives
had several articles, such as china, glass, and the handle
of a silver fork, which evidently came from a ship.
He had been told that these articles had been pro-
cured from another isle called Vanikoro, where two
large ships had been wrecked.
His intelligence led to the fitting out of a vessel,
in which he was sent to ascertain the fate of the
Frenchmen, and by the help of the man who had
been so long in Ticopia, he was able to examine a
Vanikoran chief. It appeared that the two ships
had run aground on the parallel reefs. One had
sunk at once, and the crew while swimming out had
been some of them eaten by the sharks, and others
killed by the natives ; indeed, there were sixty Euro-
pean skulls in a temple. The other vessel had drifted
over the reef, and the crew entrenched themselves on
shore, while building another vessel. They went out
and foraged for themselves in the taro fields, but they
made no friends ; they were ship-spirits, with noses
two hands long before their faces (their cocked hats).
Articles were recovered that placed the fact beyond
a doubt, and which were recognised by one of the
expedition who had left it in Kamtschatka, the sole
survivor. Of the fate of the two-masted vessel built
by the s]iii)wrecked crew, nothing was ever disco-
vered.
The Mission party landed here, but saw nobody.
They sent a Ijlack boy up a tree for cocoa-nuts,
and left a tomahawk beneath it as payment. That
1856.] The Banks Islands 281
there were inhabitants somewhere there was horrible
proof, for a frightful odour led to search being made,
and the New Zealander Hoari turning up the ground,
found human bones with flesh hano-ine to them. A
little farther off was a native oven, namely, a pit
lined with stones.
This was Patteson's nearest contact with cannibalism,
and it left a deep impression of horror.
The Banks group of islands came next — Great
Banks Isle, or in the native language Vanua Lava,
Valua or Saddle Isle, a long narrow ridge of hills,
Mota or Sugarloaf Island, an equally descriptive
name ; Star Island, and Santa Maria. These places
were to become of great importance to the Mission,
but little was seen of them at this time — the walls
of coral round them were remarkably steep and diffi-
cult of access.
Valua had no beach and no canoes, and such
swarms of natives clustering upon the cliffs that the
Bishop did not think it prudent to land. In Mota,
though the coast for the most part rises up in sheer
crags, forty or fifty feet above the sea, with a great
volcanic cone in the centre, a little cove was found
with a good beach where a number of inhabitants
had assembled. They were entirely without clothing
or ornament, neither tattooed nor disfigured by betel-
nut, and their bright honest faces greatly attracted
Patteson, though not a word of their language could be
then understood. He wanted to swim ashore amonof
them, but the Bishop would not allow it, lest it should
be difficult to escape from the embraces of so many
without giving offence. Great numbers swam out
to the boat, and canoes brought fruits of all kinds,
and bamboos decked with leaves and flowers. ' I
crammed native combs in my hair,' says Patteson,
282 Life of yolm Coleridge Pattcson [Ch.vii.
* picked up what words I could, and made up the
rest by a grand display of gesticulation.'
At Santa Maria, the next day, there was the like
scene around the boat, only the sight of a bit of
striped calico caused immense excitement. At other
islands it had been unheeded, but here the people
were mad to get it, and offered their largest yams
for strips of it, and a pair of scarlet braces were pur-
chased for two beautiful bows.
At Vanua Lava, or Great Banks Island, on the
20th, a large canoe with seven men came alongside,
three-quarters of a mile from shore. They would
not, however, venture on board till Patteson had gone
into the water, and placed himself in their canoe,
after which they were induced to come on deck,
were ' decorated with the order of the tape,' and re-
ceived axes. No weapon was seen among them,
and there was reason to think them the tractable
and hopeful race they have since proved.
Bligh Island, the next visited, plainly revealed
itself as the cone of an enormous submerged volcano,
the water forming a beautiful and extensive bay where
numbers of people could be seen. There was a
landing and a little trading for yams, and then, after
the like intercourse with some of the inhabitants of
the cluster of small islets named after Torres, the
vessel steered for Espiritu Santo, but wind and time
forbade a return to the part previously visited, nor
was there time to do more than touch at Aurora,
and exchange some fish-hooks for some bows.
At Malicolo, in 1851, the Bishop and his party,
while fetching water, had been assailed with stones
and arrows, and had only escaped by showing the
utmost coolness. There was, therefore, much cau-
1856.] Port Sandwich 28
o
tion shown in approaching- this bay, called Port
Sandwich, and the boat stopped outside its break-
water coral reef, where numerous canoes flocked
round, the people with their bows and arrows, not
attempting to barter. Their faces were painted some
red, some black, or yellow. An old chief named
Melanbico was recognized by the Bishop, and called
by name into the boat. Another old acquaintance
named Nipati joined him, and it was considered safe
to row into the harbour. The Bishop had learnt a
little of the language, and talked to these two, while
Patteson examined Nipati's accoutrements — a club, a
bow, arrows neatly made, handsomely feathered, and
tipped with a deadly poison, tortoiseshell earrings,
and a very handsome shell armlet covering the arm
from the elbow eight or nine inches upward, his
face painted red and black. The Bishop read out
the list of names he had made on the former visit,
and to several the answer was * dead,' or ' shot,' and it
appeared that a great mortality had taken place. Large
numbers, however, were on the beach, and the Bishop
and Patteson landed among them, and conversed with
them ; but they showed no disposition to trade, and
though some of the lads seemed half disposed to come
away with the party, they all changed their minds,
and went back again. However, all had behaved
well, and one little boy, when offered a fish-hook,
at once showed that he had received one already.
It w^as plain that a beginning had been made, which
might lead to further results.
Two whales were seen while rowing back to the
ship. One — about a third of a mile off — leapt
several times fairly out of the water, and fell back on
the sea ' with a regular crack,' dashing up the spray
284 Life of yohn Coleridge Patieson [Ch. vii.
in clouds. There was now very little time to spare,
as the time of an ordination at Auckland was fixed,
and two important visits had yet to be paid, so the
two Fate guests were sent ashore in the canoes of
some of their friends, and the ' Southern Cross,'
reached Nengone on the ist of September. The
Bishop had left a boat there some years before, and
the Samoan teacher, Mark, who had been Mrs.
Nihill's best friend and comforter, came out in it
with a joyful party full of welcome. The Bishop
and Patteson went ashore, taking with them their two
Bauro scholars, to whom the most wonderful sight
w^as a cow, they never having seen any quadruped
bigger than a pig. All the native teachers and their
wives were assembled, and many of the people, in
front of the house where Mr. Nihill had died. They
talked of him with touching affection, as they told
how diligently he had striven to bring young and
old to a knowledge of his God ; and they eagerly
assisted in planting at his grave a cross, which the
Bishop had brought from Auckland for the purpose,
and which bore the words : ' I am the Resurrection
and the Life.'
The coral lime church and the houses of the
teachers among the cocoa-nut trees gave the place
a civilized look, and most of the people had some
attempt at clothing. Here several passengers were
taken in. The two girls, Caroline Wabisane and
Sarah Wasitutru, were both married — Caroline to a
Maori named Simeona, and Sarah to a man from her
own isle called Nawiki. All these and two more
m(;n wished to go to St. John's for further instruction,
and were taken on board, making up a party of fourteen
Melanesians, besides Sarah's baby. ' Mrs. Nihill will
1856.] Melanesian Habits 285
be glad to have the women,' writes Coley, ' and I am
glad to have the others — not the baby, of course.'
Close quarters indeed, but not for very long, for on
the 3rd of September the schooner again put into Nor-
folk Island, and on the next Sunday Coley was present
at the confirmation of the whole population, excepting
the younger children, and at the subsequent Commu-
nion. Stong hopes were then entertained that the
Pitcairners, standing as it were between the English
and the islanders, would greatly assist in the work of
the Gospel, but this plan was found only capable of
being very partially carried out.
Off Norfolk Island, he wrote to his brother an
account of the way of life on the voyage, and of the
people.
They are generally gentle, and seem to cling to one,
not with the very independent goodwill of New
Zealanders, but with the soft yielding character of
the child of the tropics. They are foiid, that is the
word for them. I have had boys and men in a few
minutes after landing, follow me like a dog, holding
their hands in mine as a little child does with its
nurse.
My manner of life on board is as I described it
before I eschewed shoes and socks, rather liking to
be paddling about all day, when not going on shore,
or otherwise employed, which of course made up
eight or ten out of the thirteen hours of daylight.
When I went ashore (which I did whenever the boat
went), then I put on shoes, and always swam in them,
for the coral would cut my feet to pieces. Usual
swimming and wading attire — flannel shirt, dark grey
trousers, cap or straw hat, shoes, basket round my
neck with fish-hooks, or perhaps an adze or two in
286 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
my hand. I enjoyed the tropical climate very much —
really warm always in the water or out of it. On
the reefs, when I waded in shallow water, the heat of
it was literally unpleasant, more than a tepid bath.
On the 1 3th of September, the little missionary vessel
came safe into harbour at Auckland, and Coley and his
boys — they were considered especially as his — took up
their quarters at St. John's College. All through the
voyage he had written the journals here followed for
the general benefit of his kindred, and at other leisure
moments he had written more personal letters. On
his sister Fanny's birthday, when the visit to Mali-
colo was just over, after his birthday wishes, he goes
on : —
* And now, how will you be when this reaches
Feniton ? I think of all your daily occupations, —
school, garden, driving, &c. — your Sunday reading,
visiting the cottages, &c., and the very thought of it
makes me feel like old times. When occasionally I
dream, or fall into a kind of trance when awake, and
fancy myself walking up from the lodge to the
house, and old forms and faces rise up before me, I
can scarcely contain the burst of joy and happiness,
and then I give a shake and say, " Well, it would
be very nice, but look about the horizon, and see
how many islands you can count ! " and then, instead
of thoughts of home for myself, I am tempted to
induce others to leave their homes, though I don't
really think many men have such a home to
leave, or remain so long as I did, one of the home
fire-side.
' I have been reading one or two of the German
books you sent out. " Fricdrich dcr Grosse " is
interesting, but henceforth I don't think I shall have
i8s6.] Way of Life 287
time for aught but a good German novel or two for
wet days and jumping seas ; or such a theological
book as I may send for.
And now (he continues on September 5), what
shall I say of myself ? That I am glad the voyage
is over almost ? I can hardly say that, if at least
we were to go back to the tropics ; but here, even
in latitude 28^50' S., I feel the cold, and would not
wish to prolong my sojourn on board unnecessarily
unless I went into warmer climates. I do enjoy the
tropical warmth. When it is 83° it is rather oppres-
sive, but you know what a chilly body I am, and
can guess what a comfort it must be to have the
extreme tips of toes and fingers always warm for weeks
together, day and night ; and then the heat being
sent to the extremities makes an equal distribution
thereof all over, so I knew not what it was to feel
my head hot all that time. For active exercise it is
trying, and yet I used to pull a good sea oar in it.
' Can you draw yourself anything like a picture of
my life, now putting together all the scraps that are
scattered over so many sheets of paper ? I think
you four dear ones between you some day in
February, over the fire after dinner, may puzzle out
something. " I am glad the old fellow likes the hot
weather," says dear Father. " Why, he almost lives
in the water there, so no wonder he does." "And
then the scenery is so beautiful, and there is so much
novelty and excitement." " Fancy old Johnny," says
Jem, " with a lot of those fellows pulling him about.
I didn't expect he'd take it so coolly." " Oh, he
always had the Bishop with him, he has not been
tried much as yet." How I should like to drop in
upon you in the midst of it, and tell my own tale,
and hear- all that you can tell me. But I have this
288 Life of JoJin Coleridge Pattcsoii [Cn. Vil.
advantage over you that I can realize what you tell
me more easily than you can imagine what I have
to write about.' Then follow two pages of messages
and recollections to friends, servants, Alfingtonians,
of course not worth transcribing, but showing that
Coley's heart had space for all from north to south.
The effect of the voyage seems to have shown itself
in an inflamed leg, which was painful, but not disabled
for some time. There was a welcome budget of
letters awaiting him, — one from his uncle Dr. Coleridge,
to which this is the reply.
September 15, 1856: St. John's College.
My dearest Uncle James, — You would be rewarded
indeed for your g7'eat kindness in writing to me so
constantly and so lovingly, if you could see the
delight with which I read your letters ; well may
Sophy say that Thorverton comes next to Feniton.
I believe it has always been so ; and if one thing
could make me more happy than I used to be, it
would be the knowledge that you all see so very
much of each other. I love to hear of it, and I
think constantly of you all sitting together, and at
church together, and talking together. Nothing is
so thoroughly acceptable to my dear Father, I
know well ; he gets all he wants, your society and
conversation and that of dear Aunt and Sophy ; and
then comes that darling child to make all light and
cheerful, and my father does love her so dearly, and
she has just that innocent fearlessness which enables
her to be entirely at her ease with him. And you,
dear Uncle, are so much better ; just as usual in
Church and out of it. What would I give some-
times to be kneeling again by your side in the
reading desk !
Your letter of March 26 was awaiting my arrival
1856.] Thoughts of Home 289
here. How thankful I am that (as Fan says) in
little as in g-reat thino-s God is so [iood to us.
Letters from me arriving on the anniversary of my
departure ! and all at Thorverton !
Thank you for the very happy account of my
dear dear father : his letters (and he is always
writing-) are overflowing with love and resignation
and peace of mind, bringing tears to my eyes, but
great joy to my heart. The dear girls and Jem
write naturally and happily ; they say the bitterness
is past, and the retrospect and the present sweet
and pleasant. And what a mercy that coming back
from a long voyage, counting the perpetual zigzag
course against the S.E. trade of I suppose upwards
of 900 miles ! I should have happy accounts of all
most clear to me, of all at Feniton, of you and dear
Aunt, and on the whole of Sophy too, while that
sunbeam of your house is as bright as ever. May
God ever keep her so, happy in her innocence, and
pure and unstained in heart ! You are clearly right
in what you say about my post in the S. X. I did
not like it at first, just as a schoolboy does not like
going back to school ; but that it was good for me I
have no doubt ; and now see ! here I am on shore
for seven or eight months, if I live so long — my
occupations most interesting, working away with
twelve Melanesians at languages, etc., with the
. highest of all incentives to perseverance, trying to
form in them habits of cleanliness, order, decency, etc.
Last night (Sunday — their first Sunday in New
Zealand), after explaining to the Solomon Islands
boys, seven in number, the nature of the Lord's
Prayer as far as my knowledge of their language
would carry me, I thought myself justified in
making them kneel down round me, and they
1. u
290 Life of JoJui Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. vir
uttered with their hps after me (i.e. the five most in-
telligent) the first words of prayer to their Father in
Heaven. I don't venture to say that they under-
stood much — neither does the young child taught
at his or her mother's knees — neither do many
grown persons perhaps know much about the fulness
of the Prayer of Prayers — (these scenes teach me
my ignorance, which is one great gain) — yet they
knew, I think, that they were praying to some great
and mighty one — not an abstraction — a conscious
loving Being, a Father, and they know at least the
name of his son, Jesus Christ.
Their first formula was : ' God the Father, God
the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, only One God.'
I can't yet explain that our Blessed Lord came from
heaven and died for oitr sins; neither (as far as
human thought may reach) does the power of God's
Spirit as yet work in their hearts consciousness
of sin, and with that the sense of the need of a
Redeemer and Saviour. I asked in my sermon
yesterday the prayers of the people for the grace of
God's Holy Spirit to touch the hearts and enlighten
the understandings of these heathen children of a
common Father, and I added that greatly did their
teachers need their prayers that God would make
them apt to teach, and wise and simple in en-
deavouring to bring before their minds the things
that belong unto their peace. You too, dear Uncle,
will think I know of these things, for my trust is
great. In this cold climate, 26° or 27° of latitude south
of their own island, I have much anxiety about their
bodily health, and more about their souls.
The four youngest, sixteen to eighteen, sleep in my
room. One is now on my bed, wrapped up in a great
f)possum nig, witli cold and slight fever ; last night
1856.] Fever at St. JoJuis 291
his pulse was high, to-day he is better. I have to
watch over them Hke a cat. Think of Hving till now
in a constant temperature of 84°, and being suddenly
brought to 56°. New Zealand is too cold for them,
and the college is a cold place, wind howling round
it now.
Norfolk Island is the place, and the Pitcairners
themselves are most co-operative and hearty ; I trust
that in another year I may be there.
Thank you for all your kind wishes on my birth-
day. I ought to wish to live many years, perhaps,
to try and be of use ; especially as I am so unfit to
go now, or rather I ought not to wish at all. Some-
times I feel almost faint-hearted, which is cowardly
and forgetful of our calling ' to fight manfully
under Christ's banner.' Ah ! my Bishop is indeed a
warrior of the Cross. I can't bear the things Sophy
said in one of her letters about my having given up,
etc. It seems mock humility to write it ; but, dear
Uncle, if / am conscious of a life so utterly unlike
what all you dear ones fancy it to be, what must it be
in the sight of God and His holy angels ? What
advantages I have always had, and have now ! and
not a day goes by and I can say I have done my
duty. Good-bye dear dear Uncle.
Always your affectionate and grateful nephew,
J. C. Patteson.
Love to dear Aunt.
Almost the first experience after settling in at St.
John's College was a sharp attack of fever that fell on
Kerearua, one of the Bauro lads. Such illnesses, it
seemed, were frequent at home and generally fatal.
His companion Hirika remarked, ' Kerearua like this
in Bauro — ah ! in a few days he would die ; by and by
u 2
292 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
we go back to Baiiro.' The sick boys were always
lodged In Coley's own room to be more quiet and
thoroughly nursed. Fastidiousness had been so entirely
crushed that he really seemed to take pleasure in the
arrangement, speaking with enthusiasm of the patient's
obedience and gratitude, and adding, * He looks quite
nice in one of my night-shirts with my plaid counter-
pane, and the plaid Joan gave me over it, a blanket
next to him.'
He soon recovered, and the next event was the first
Melanesian baptism Mr. Patteson had performed, that
of Sarah's five-months-old child. Mr, Nihill had trans-
lated part of the Baptismal Service into Nengone,
and the rest, except the exhortations, was now finished
by Mrs. Nihill, and after several days' study of the
language, Mr. Patteson christened the child in its
vulgar tongue on the 1 2th of October in St. John's
Chapel.
The Melanesians readily fell into the regular habits
of short school, work out of doors, meals in hall and
bed-tim.e, and they were allowed a good deal of the
free use of their limbs, needful to keep them happy
and healthy. Now and then they would be taken into
Auckland, as a great treat, to see the soldiers on
parade, and of course the mere living with civilization
was an immense education to them, besides the direct
instruction they received.
The languages of Nengon^ and Bauro were be-
coming sufficiently familiar to Mr. Patteson to enable
him to understand much of what they said to him.
He writes to Miss Neill (October 17) : —
I talk with them about common things, and learn
a great deal of their wild savage customs and
habits, but I can do but little as yet in the way of
i8s6.] Serpent-Worship 293
real instruction. Some ideas, I trust, they are be-
ginning to acquire concerning our Blessed Lord. Is
it not a significant fact that the God worshipped in
Gera, and in one village of Bauro, is the Serpent,
the very type of evil ? I need not say that these
dear boys have won their way to my heart, they are
most docile and affectionate. I think some will
really, if they live, leave their own island and live
with me at Norfolk Island, or here, or wherever my
dwelling may be whenever I am not in the ' Southern
Cross.'
But of course I must not dwell on such notions.
If it come to pass that for some years I can retain a
hold upon them, they may be instructed sufficiently
to make them teachers in their turn to their own
people. But all this is in the hands of God. My
home journal will tell you particulars of our voyage.
Don't believe in the ferocity, &c., of the islanders.
When their passions are excited, they do commit
fearful deeds, and they are almost universally can-
nibals, i.e., after a battle there will be always a
cannibal feast, not otherwise. But treat them well
and prudently, and I apprehend that there is little
danger in visiting them, meaning by visiting merely
landing on the beach the first time, going per-
haps to a native village the next time, sleeping on
shore the third, spending ten days the fourth, &c.,
&c. The language once learnt from the pupils we
bring away, all is clear. And now good-bye, my
dear Niss Neill. That I think of you and pray for
you, you know, and I need not add that I value
most highly your prayers for me. When I think of
my happiness and good spirits, I must attribute
much, very much, to God's goodness in accepting
the prayers of my friends.
294 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Cii. Vil.
After the old custom of telling the home party all his
doings, the journal-letter of the 27th of November goes
through the teaching to the Bauro boys : —
I really think they comprehend thus much, that God,
who made all things, made man, Adam and Eve,
very good and holy ; that Adam and Eve sinned, that
they did not listen to the word of God, but to the
Bad Spirit ; that God found them out, though they
were afraid and tried to hide (for He sees and knows
all things) ; that He drove them out of the beautiful
garden, and said that they must die ; that they had
two sons, Cain and Abel ; that Cain killed his brother,
and that all fighting and killing people, and all other
sins (I mention all for which I have names) came
into the world because of sin ; that God and man
were far apart, not living near, no peace between
them because men were so evil. That God was so
good that He loved men all the time, and that He
promised" to save all men who would believe in His
Son Jesus Christ, who was to die for them (for I can't
yet express, ' was to die that men might not go down
to the fire, but live for ever with God ') ; that by and
by He sent a flood and drowned all men except
Noah and seven other people, because men would
not be good ; that afterwards there was a very good
man named Abraham, who believed all about Jesus
Christ, and God chose him and his son Isaac, and
his son Jacob, and his twelve sons, to be the fathers
of a people called Jews ; that those people alone
knew about God, and had teachers and praying men ;
and that they killed lambs and offered them (gave
them to God as a sign of Jesus Christ being one day
slain and offered to God on a cross) but these very
men became wicked too, and at last, when no man
1856.] First Foundations 295
knew how to be happy and good, Jesus Christ came
down from heaven. His mother was Mary, but He
had no Father on earth, only God the Father in heaven
was his Father ; the Holy Ghost made Mary to be
mother of Jesus Christ.
Then I take two books, or anything else, and say.
This one is God, and this is man. They are far apart
because man is so bad and God is so good. But
Jesus Christ came in the middle between them, and
joins them together. He is God and he is man too :
so in(side) Him, God and Man meet, like the meeting
of two men in one path ; and He says Himself He is
the true Way, the only true Path to God and heaven.
God was angry with us because we sinned ; but Jesus
Christ died on the cross, and then God the Father
forgave us because Jesus Christ gave his life that
we might always live and not die. By and by He
will come to judge us ; and He knows what we do,
whether we steal and lie, or whether we pray and teach
what is good. Men of Bauro and Gera and Santa
Cruz don't know that yet, but you do, and you must
remember, if you go on doing as they do after you
know God's will, you will be sent down to the fire,
and not see Jesus Christ, who died that you might
live.
I think that they know all this, and much in the
exactly equivalent words. Of course I find difficulty
in rendering religious ideas in a language which con-
tains scarcely any words adequate to express them, but
I am hopeful enough to believe that they do know
so much at all events. How far their hearts are
affected, One alone knows. It is indeed but little after
they have been with us four months ; but till I had
them on shore, I could get very little work done.
The constant boat work took me away, and anywhere
296 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
in sight of islands, of course they were on deck in
eagerness to see the strange country. Then I could
not work with energy while my leg would not let me
take exercise. But it is now beginning to be a real
pleasure as well as duty to teach both Nengone and
Bauro people. Enough of the language to avoid
most of the drudgery has been got over, I hope,
though not near enough for purposes of exact and
accurate translation.
I have eiven at lenoth this account of Patteson's
fundamental teaching, though to some it may seem
to savour of the infant school, because, in spite of
being hampered by imperfect knowledge of the lan-
guage, he has thown into it the great principle both
of his action and teaching ; namely, the restoration
of the union of mankind with God through Christ.
It never embraced that view of the heathen world
which regards it as necessarily under God's dis-
pleasure, apart from actual evil, committed in wilful
knowledofe that it is evil. He held fast to the fact
of man having been created in the image of God,
and held that whatever good impulses and higher
qualities still remained in the heathen, were the
remnants of that Image, and to be hailed accord-
ingly. Above all, he realized in his own life the
words to St. Peter : * What God hath cleansed that
call not thou common,' and not undervaluing for a
moment Sacramental Grace, viewed human nature,
while yet without the offer thereof, as still the object
of fatlierly and redeeming love, and full of fitful
tokens of good coming from the only giver of life
and holiness, and needing to be brought nearer and
strengthened by full union and light, instead of being
left to be quenched in the surrounding ilood of evil.
1856.] Vieiv of the Heathen World 297
' And were by nature the children of wrath,' he did not
hold to mean that men were objects of God's anger,
lying under His deadly displeasure ; but rather, children
of wild impulse, creatures of passion, swayed resist-
lessly by their own desires, until made ' children of
grace,' and thus obtaining the spiritual power need-
ful to enable them to withstand these passions. An
extract from the sermon he had preached at Sydney
may perhaps best serve to illustrate his principle : — •
And this love once generated in the heart of man,
must needs pass on to his brethren ; that principle
of life must needs grow and expand with its own in-
herent energy ; the seed must be developed into the
tree, and strike its roots deep and wide, and stretch
out its branches unto the sea and its boughs unto the
rivers. No artificial nor accidental circumstances
can confine it ; it recognises no human ideas of nation-
ality, or place, or time, but embraces like the dome
of heaven all the works of God. And love is the
animating principle of all. In every star of the sky
in the sparkling, glittering waves of the sea, in every
flower of the field, in every creature of God, most
of all in every living soul of man, it adores and
blesses the beauty and the love of the great Creator
and Preserver of all.
Viewed indeed from that position which was
occupied by ancient philosophers, the existing con-
trarieties between nations might well appear in-
explicable, and intellectual powers might seem to
be the exclusive heritage of particular nations. But
Christianity leads us to distinguish between the
nature of man as he came fresh from the hands of
his Creator, and that natural propensity to sin which
he has inherited in consequence of his fall from
298 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. vir.
original innocence. It teaches that as God has
' made of one blood all nations to dwell together on
the face of the whole earth,' and has given in virtue
of this common origin one common nature destined
to be pure and holy and divine, so, by virtue of
Redemption and Regeneration, the image of God
may be restored in all, and whatever is the result
of his depravity therefore may be overcome. And
this seems to be the answer to all statements relating
to the want of capacity in certain nations of the
earth for the reception of Divine Truth, that every
man, because he is a man, because he is a partaker
of that very nature which has been taken into the
Person of the Son of God, may by the grace of God
be awakened to the sense of his true life, of his real
dignity as a redeemed brother of Christ.
The spark of heavenly hre may indeed have been
all but quenched by the unbridled indulgence of his
passions ; the natural wickedness of the heart of man
may have exhibited itself with greater fearfulness
where no laws and customs have introduced restraints
against at least the outward expression of vice ; but
the capacity for the Christian life is there ; though
overlaid, it may be, with monstrous forms of super-
stition or cruelty or ignorance, the conscience can still
respond to the voice of the Gospel of Truth.
And one who so entirely believed and acted upon
these words found them true. The man who verily
treated the lads he had gathered round him with
a perfectly genuine sympathy, a love and a self-
denial — nay more, an identification of self with them —
awoke all that was best in tlicir characters, and met
with full response. {"Enthusiastic partiality of course
there was in his estimate of them ; but is it not one of
1856.] EntJmsiasm for Pupils 299
the absolute requisites of a good educator to feel that
enthusiasm, like the parent for the child ? And is it
always the blind admiration at which outsiders smile ;
is it not rather indifference which is blind, and love
which sees the truth ?
I would not exchange my position with these lads and
young men for anything (he wrote, on Decem-
ber 8, to his uncle, the Eton master). I wish you
could see them and know them ; I don't think yoto
ever had pupils that could win their way into your
heart more effectually than these fellows have
attached themselves to me. It is no effort to
love them heartily. Gariri, a clear boy from San
Cristoval, is standing by me now, at my desk, in
amazement at the pace that my pen is going, not
knowing that I could write to you, my dear old
tutor, for hours together if I had nothing else to
do. He is, I suppose, about sixteen, a most love-
able boy, gentle, affectionate, with all the tropical
softness and kindliness=
We have seven Solomon Islanders — five from
Mata, a village at the north-west of San Cristoval,
and two from the south-east point of Guadalcanar,
or Gera, a magnificent island about twenty-five or
twenty miles to the north-west of San Cristoval.
From frequent intercourse they are almost bilingual,
a great ' lounge ' for me, as one language does for
both ; the structure of the two island tongues is the
same, but scarcely any words much alike. However,
that is not much odds.
Then from Nengone, where you remember Mr.
Nihill died after eighteen months' residence on the
island, we have four men and two women, both
married. Of these, two men and both the women
300 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
have been baptized, some time ago, by the Bishop,
in 1852, and one by the London Mission, who now
occupy the island. These four I have, with full
trust, admitted to the Holy Communion. Mr.
Nihill had taught them well, and I am sure they
could pass an Examination in Scriptural history,
simple doctrinal statements, &c,, as well as most
young English people of the middle class of life.
The other two are well taught, and one of them
knows a great deal, but, poor fellow, he miscon-
ducted himself at Nengone, and hence I cannot re-
commend him to the Bishop for baptism without
much talk about him.
But I think my love is more poured out upon
my Bauro and Gera lads. They are such dear
fellows, and I trust that already they begin to know
something about religion. Certain it is that they
answer readily questions and say with their mouths
what amounts almost to a statement of the most im-
portant Christian truths. Of course I cannot tell what
effect this may have on their hearts. They join in
prayer morning and evening, they behave admirably,
and really there is nothing in their conduct to find
fault with. If it please God that any of them were
at some future time to stay again with us, I have
great hopes that they may learn enough to become
teachers in their own country.
The Nengone lads are quite in a different posi-
tion. Their language has been reduced to writing,
the Gospel of St. Mark translated, and they can all
read a little English, so that at evening prayers we
read a verse all round, and then I catechise and
expound to them in Nengone,
I really trust that by God's blessing some real
opening into the gnjat Solomon group has been
1856.] Letter to the Rev. E. Cole^Hdge ■ 301
effected. There is every hope that many boys will
join us this next voyage. No one can say what may
be the result. As yet it is possible to get on
without more help, but I do not for a moment doubt
that should God really grant not only a wide field of
labour, but some such hope of cultivating it, He will
send forth plenty of men to share in this work.
Men who have some means of their own — 100/. a
year is enough, or even less — or some aptitude for
languages, surely will feel drawn in this direction.
It is the happiest life a man can lead, full of enjoy-
ment, physical and mental, exquisite scenery, famous
warm climate, lots of bathing, yams and taro and
cocoa-nut enough to make an alderman's mouth
water, and such loving, gentle people. But of
course something depends on the way in which a
man looks at these things, and a fine gentleman
who can't get on without his servant, and can't put
his luggage for four months into a compass of six
feet by one-and-a-half, won't like it. . . .
You know the kind of incidents that occur, so I
need not repeat them to you. I have quite learnt
to believe that there are no ' savages ' anywhere, at
least among black or coloured people. I'd like to
see anyone call my Bauro boys savages ! Why, the
fellows on the reef that have never seen a white
man will wade back to the boat and catch one's arms
to prevent one falling into pits among the coral, just
like an old nurse looking after her child. This they
did at Santa Maria, where we "two swam ashore to a
party of forty or fifty men, and where our visit was
evidently a very agreeable one on both sides, though
we did not know one syllable of the language,
and then . . . But I almost tremble to think of
the immense amount of work opening upon one.
302 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
Whither will it lead ? But I seldom find any time
for speculations ; and oh, my dear tutor, I am as
happy as the day is long, though it never seems
long to me ! . . . My dear father writes in great
anxiety about the Denison case. Oh dear ! what a
cause of thankfulness it is to be out of the din
of controversy, and to find hundreds of thousands
longing for crumbs which are shaken about so
roughly in these angry disputes ! It isn't High or
Low or Broad Chureh, or any other special name, but
the longing desire to forget all distinctions, and to
return to a simpler state of things, that seems natur-
ally to result from the very sight of heathen people.
Who thinks of anything but this : ' They have
not heard the Name of the Saviour Who died for
them,' when he is standing with crowds of naked
fellows round him ? I can't describe the intense
happiness of this life. I suppose trials will come
some day, and I almost dread the thought, for I
surely shall not be prepared to bear them. I have no
trials at all, even of a small kind, to teach me how to
bear up under great ones.
In truth Coleridge Patteson had entered on the hap-
piest period of his life. He had found his vocation, and
his affections were fastening themselves upon his black
flock, so that, without losing a particle of his home love,
the yearnings homewards were appeased, and the
fully employed time, and sense of success and capa-
bility, left no space for the self-contemplation and self-
criticism of his earlier life. He gives amusing sketches
of the scenes : —
The donkey here, a fatally stubborn brute, is an un-
ceasing amusement to my boys. No one of them
can retain his seat more than ten minutes, but they
1856.] The Donkey 303
all fall like cats on their legs amid cries of laughter.
The donkey steers straight for some small scrubby
trees, and then kicks and plunges, or else rubs their
legs against the sides of the house, and all this time
the boys are leaping about the unfortunate fellow
who is mounted, and the fun is great.
Wadrokala, one of the Mcngone lads, who had
recently made his first communion, became the promi-
nent scholar at this time. He had thought a good
deal. One night he said : * I have heard all kinds of
words used — faith, repentance, praise, prayer — and
I don't clearly understand what is the real great
thing, the chief thing of all. They used these words
confusedly, and I feel puzzled. Then I read that the
Pharisees knew a great deal of the law, and so did the
Scribes, and yet they were not good. I am not
doing anything good. Now / know something of
the Bible, and / can wTite ; and I fear very much, I
often feel very much afraid, that I am not good, I
am not doing anything good.'
He was talked to, and comforted with hopes of
future work ; but a day or two later his feelings were
unconsciously hurt by being told in joke that he
was wearing a shabby pair of trousers to save the good
ones to take home to Nengone. His remonstrance
was poured out upon a slate : —
Mr. Patteson, this is my word : — I am unhappy
because of the word you said to me that I wished
for clothes. I have left my country. I do not seek
clothes for the body. What is the use of clothes ?
Can my spirit be clothed with clothes for the body ?
Therefore my heart is greatly afraid ; but you said I
greatly wished for clothes, which I do not care for.
One thing only I care for, that I may receive the
304 Life of yoJui Coleridge Pattcsoji [Ch. Vil.
life for my spirit. Therefore I fear, I confess, and say-
to you, it is not the thing for the body I want, but
the one thing I want is the clothing for the soul, for
Jesus Christ's sake, our Lord.
Soon after a very happy Christmas, Wadrokala and
Kainwhat expressed a desire, after a final visit to their
native island, to return with Mr. Patteson, and be pre-
pared to be sent as native teachers to any dark land,
as the Samoans had come to them.
Wadrokala narrated something of the history of his
island, a place with 6,000 inhabitants, with one tribe
forming a priestly caste, the head of which was firmly
believed by even these Christian Nengonese to possess
the power of striking men dead by his curse. Caroline,
Kainwhat and Kowine were the children of a terrible
old chief named Bula, who had fifty-five wives, and
whose power was almost absolute. If anyone offended
him, he would send either a priest or one of his sons
to kill the man, and bring the corpse, of which the
thighs were always reserved for his special eating, the
trunk being given to his slaves. If one of his wives
offended him, he sent for the high priest, who cursed
her — simply said, ' She has died,' and die she did. A
young girl who refused to marry him was killed and
eaten, or if any person omitted to come into his
presence crouching, the penalty was to be devoured ;
in fact, he seems to have made excuses for executions
in order to gratify his appetite for human flesh, which
was considered as particularly dainty fare. Everyone
dreaded him, and when at last he died a natural death,
his chief wife was strangled by her own brother, as a
matter of course. Such horrors as these had pretty
well ceased by that time, though still many Nengonese
were heathen, and the jjriests were firmly believed to
have the power of producing death and disease at
1 857-] Polyglot Sej'vices 305
will by a curse. Wadrokala, with entire conviction, de-
clared that one of his father's wives had thus been made
a cripple for life.
Nengonese had become almost as familiar to Coley
as Maori, and his Sundays at this time were decidedly
polyglot ; since, besides a regular English service at
Tamaki, he often took a Maori service, and preached
extempore in that tongue, feeling that the people's
understanding went along with him ; and there were
also, in early morning and late evening, prayers, partly
in Nengonese, partly in Bauro, at the College chapel,
and a sermon, first in one language, and then repeated
in the other. The Nengon^ lads, who had the question
of adherence to the London Mission at home, or the
Church in New Zealand, put to them, came deliberately
to entreat to remain always with Mr. Patteson, saying
that they saw that this teaching of the Church was
right, and they wished to work in it. It was a
difficult point, as the London Mission was reassert-
ing a claim to the Loyalty Isles, and the hopes of
making them a point d^apptii were vanishing ; but
these men and their wives could not but be accepted,
and Simeona was preparing for baptism. A long
letter to Professor Max M tiller on the languages will
be found in the Appendix. The Bishop of New
Zealand thus wTote to Sir John Patteson respecting
Coley and his work.
Taurarua, Auckland : March 2, 1857.
My dear Judge, — Your letter of December 5 made
me very happy, by assuring me of the satisfaction
which you feel in your son's duties and position.
I do indeed most thankfully acknowledge the good-
ness of God in thus giving me timely aid, when I
was pledged to a great work, but without any steady
force to carry it on. Coley is, as you say, the right
I. X
3o6 Life of Jolm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
man in the right place, mentally and physically : the
multiplicity of languages, which would try most men,
is met by his peculiar gift ; the heat of the climate
suits his constitution ; his mild and parental temper
makes his black boys cling about him as their natural
protection ; and his freedom from fastidiousness
makes all parts of the work easy to him ; for when
you have to teach boys how to wash themselves, and
to wear clothes for the first time, the romance of
missionary work disappears as completely as a great
man's heroism before his valet de chambre.
On Sunday, February 22, we had a native baptism,
an adult from Nengone and his infant child. Coley
used the Baptismal Service, which he had translated,
and preached fluently in the Nengone tongue, as he
had done in the morning in New Zealand. The care-
ful study which we had together of the latter on our
voyage out will be of great use In many other
dialects, and Mrs, Nihill has given him her husband's
Nengone manuscripts.
You know in what direction my wishes tend, viz.,
that Coley, when he has come to suitable age, and
has developed, as I have no doubt he will, a fitness
for the work, should be the first island Bishop, upon
the foundation, of which you and your brother Judge,
and Sir W. Farquhar, are trustees ; that Norfolk
Island should be the see of the Bishop, because the
character of its population, the salubrity of its climate,
and its insular position, make it the fittest place for
the purpose.
Your affectionate and grateful friend,
G. A. New Zealand.
By the same mail Patteson himself wrote to Miss
Neill :—
If it please God to give us some few native teachers
1 85 7-] Light and Darkness 307
from Bauro and Gera, not to be sent before, but
to go with, or follow us (i.e. Bishop and me), in
a short time the Word of God mi^ht be heard in
many a grand wild island, resplendent with every-
thing that a tropical climate and primeval forests, etc.,
can bestow, and thickly populated with an intelligent
and, as I imagine, tolerably docile race, of whom some
are already ' stretching out their hands unto God.'
All these Solomon Islanders here would answer
questions about Christianity as well, perhaps, as
children of nine or ten years old in England. Some
seem to feel that there is a real connection between
themselves and what they are taught, and speak of
the love of God in giving Jesus Christ to die for
them, and say that God's Holy Spirit alone can
enlighten their dark hearts.
That beautiful image of light and darkness seems
common to all nations. (The regular word used by
the Nengon^ people, who are far more advanced in
Christian knowledge and practice, for all heathen
places is ' the dark lands.')
On Sunday week, February 22, we had a deeply
interesting service in the College chapel at 7.15 p.m.,
just as the English world was beginning its Sunday.
Simeona and his infant boy of four weeks and three
days old were baptized. The College chapel was
nicely lighted, font decorated simply. I read the
service in Nengone, having had all hands at work
setting the types and printing on Friday and Satur-
day. The Bishop took the part of the service which
immediately precedes the actual baptism, and bap-
tized them both — first the father, by the name of
George Selwyn, then the baby by the name of John
Patteson. This was the special request of the
parents, and as it is my dear Father's name, how
X 2
3o8 Life of y Jin Coleridge Patteso7i. [Ch. Vil.
could I object ? He is, of course, my godson, and a
dear little fellow he is. At the end of my sermon, I
added a few words to ' George,' and besought the
prayers of the Nengone people for him and his child.
We have now four regular communicants among
them — Wadrokala, Mark (Kainwhat), Carry and
Sarah. George is baptized, and baby ; and Sarah's
child, Lizzy, I baptized long ago. In about two
months (D.V.), we are off for a good spell of four
or five months among the islands, taking back this
party, though some of them will, by and by, rejoin
us again, I hope.
The plan of starting in April for a four or five
months' cruise was disconcerted, as regarded Bishop
Selwyn, by the delay of Bishop Harper and the Arch-
deacons in arriving for the intended Synod, which was
thus put off till May, too wintry a month for the
Melanesians to spend in New Zealand. After some
doubt, it was decided that Mr. Patteson should make
a short voyage, for the mere purpose of returning his
scholars to their homes, come back to Auckland, and
make a fresh start when the Bishop was ready.
In prospect of the parting, Patteson writes to his
beloved old governess (March 19, 1857) : —
You will like a report of my pupils, especially as
I can give most of them a good ticket, little mark
and all, as we used to say of yours (though not as
often as we ought to have done) to our dear mother.
You never had such Avilling pupils, though you
turned out some, I hope, eventually as good. In your
hands these lads would be something indeed. Really
they have no faults that I can detect, and when their
previous state is considered, it is wonderful ; for all
this time they have been witli us, the greatest fault
1857.] Gentleness of the Natives 309
has been a fit of sulkiness, lasting about half a day,
with three of them. Their eiffection, gentleness,
unselfishness, cheerfulness, willingness to oblige, in
some of them a natural gentlemanly way of doing
things, and sometimes indications of what we should
call high principle — all these things give one great
hopes, not for them only, but for all these nations,
that, refined by Christianity, they may be bright
examples of manly virtues and Christian graces.
To some, no doubt, these expressions will seem
exaggerated, but not to those who have had any
experience of the peculiar suavity and grace that often
is found in the high-bred men of native races, before
they are debased by the corruptions brought in by white
men. Moreover, in every case, the personal influence
of the teacher when in immediate contact with a suf-
ficiently small number, is quite enough to infuse good
habits and obviate evil ones to an extent quite incon-
ceivable to those who have not watched the unconscious
exertion of this power. Patteson knew that too much
reliance must not be placed on present appearance.
It is dangerous (he says), to have persons clinging to
you too much. I feel that ; but then these fellows, I
take it, are very impulsive and no doubt the cocoa-
nuts in their own land will exercise a counter-influ-
ence to mine, and so I shall soon be undeceived if I
learn to think too much of their personal affection ; but
I never knew such dear lads, I don't know how I
shall get on without them. My godson is growing
a very fine boy, quite a young giant; he is quite heavy
for his mother to carry. She is not above eighteen,
but looks more, and she is such a nice good girl,
quite able to do little needle-and-thread jobs for me.
You must be looking forward to )our spring and
310 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. vil.
summer. How delicious some of those days are in
England ! We miss the freshness of a deciduous
foliage, our evergreens look dull, and we have no deci-
duous trees as yet. A good scamper with Joan on the
East Hill, or a drive with Fan in the pony carriage
along a lane full of primroses and violets would be
pleasant indeed, and so would a stroll with old Jem
up the river be happy indeed, and I could almost quit
the 'Southern Cross' for dear Father's quarterdeck
in the ' Hermitage,' but that I am, I believe, sailing
in the right vessel, and, as I trust, on the right course
to the haven where we may all meet and rest for
ever.
On Good Friday the three Nengone young men
who had been baptized were confirmed, and on the
Wednesday in Easter week the ' Southern Cross '
sailed, this time with a responsible sailing master. At
Nengone Mr. Patteson had a friendly interview with
Mr. Craig, the London Society's missionary, and
explained to him the state of things with regard to
these individual pupils ; then, after being overwhelmed
with presents by the Christian population, shaped his
course for Bauro.
On the way, he had the experience of a tropical
thunderstorm, after having been well warned by the
sinking of the barometer through the whole of the
day, the 27th of April. 'At 7.30 the breeze came up, and
the big drops began, when suddenly a bright forked
ilash so sustained that it held its place before our
eyes like an inimcnse white-hot crooked wire, seemed
to fall on the deck, and be splintered there. But
one moment and the tremendous crack of the thunder
was alive and around us, making the masts tremble.
For more than an hour the Hashes were so continu-
1 857-] ^ Tropical Thunderstorm 311
ous that I think every three seconds we had a perfect
view of the whole horizon. I especially remember the
firmament between the lurid thunder clouds looking
quite blue, so intense was the light. The thunder
rolled on without cessation, but the tremendous claps
occurred only at intervals. We have no lightning-
conductor, and I felt somewhat anxious ; went below
and prayed God to preserve us from lightning and
fire, read the magnificent chapter at the end of Job.
As the storm went on, I thought that at that very
hour you were praying " From lightning and tempest,
good Lord deliver us." We had no wind ; furious
rain, repeated again from midnight to three this
morning. About eleven the thunder had ceased, but
the broad flashes of lightning were still frequent. The
lightning was forked and jagged, and one remarkable
thing was the length of time that the line of intense
light was kept up, like a gigantic firework, so that
the shape of the flash could be drawn with entire
accuracy by any one that could handle a pencil. It
was a grand and solemn sight and sound, and I am
very thankful we were preserved from danger, for the
storm was right upon us, and the danger must have
been great.'
A ready welcome awaited the ' Southern Cross ' at
Bauro, in a lovely bay hitherto unvisited, where a
perfect flotilla of canoes came off to greet her, and the
two chiefs, Iri and Rimaniaka, came on board, and no
less than fifty-five men with them. The chiefs and
about a dozen men were invited to spend the night on
board. The former lay on the fioor of the inner cabin,
talking and listening while their host set before them
some of the plain truths of Christianity. He landed next
day, and returned the visit by going to Iri's hut, where
312 Life of fohn Coleridge Paitcson [Ch. vii.
he pointed to the skulls, discoursed on the hatefulness
of such decorations, and recommended their burial:
He also had an opportunity of showing a Christian's
horror of unfilial conduct, when Rimaniaka struck his
mother for being slow in handing yams ; and when a
man begged for a passage to Gera in direct opposition
to his father's commands, he was dismissed with the
words, ' I will have nothing to do with a man who
does not obey his own father.'
At Gera there was also a great assembly of canoes,
and as all hands were wanted on board, Patteson went
ashore in a canoe with the brother of one of the
scholars. He was told that he was the first white
man who had ever landed there, and the people
showed a good deal of surprise, but were quite peace-
able, and the presence of women and children was a
siofn that there was no danijer. When he tried to
return to the ship, a heavy sea came on, and the canoes
were forced to put back, and he thus found himself
obliged to spend the night on the island. He was
taken into a house with two rooms, in each of which
numbers of men were lying on the ground, a small
wood fire burning in the midst of each group of three
or four. A erass mat was brouoht him, and a bit of
wood for a pillow, and as he was wet through, cold,
and very tired, he lay clown ; but sleep was impossible,
from tormenting vermin, as well as because it seemed to
be the custom of the people to be going backwards and
forwards all night, sitting over the fire talking, then
dropjjing asleep and waking to talk again. A yam was
brought him after about an hour, and long before
dawn he escaped into the open air, and sat over a fire
there till at higli tide, at six o'clock in the morning, he
was able to put off again and reach the ship, where
forty-five natives had slept, and Ix^haved well.
1857.] The Reef at Gera 313
'The sense 6f cold and dirt and weariness was not
pleasing,' he confesses, and certainly the contrast to
the Eton and Oxford habits was great. There was a
grand exchange of presents : hatchets, adzes, hooks and
empty bottles on one side, and a pig and yams on the
other. Immediately after follows a perilous adventure,
which, as we shall find, made a deep impression. It
is thus related in a letter for the benefit of Thor-
verton Rectory,
At sea : lat 19° 50' S. ; long. 167° 41' E.
My dearest Uncle, — . . . May is a month specially
connected henceforward in my mind with a merciful
deliverance from great peril, which God vouchsafed to
us on May 2nd. We touched on a reef at the Isle of
Guadalcanar, one of the Solomon Islands, in lat.
9° 50', and but for God's mercy in blessing our
exertions, we mioht have incurred fearful dano-er of
losing the Mission vessel. As it was, in a couple of
minutes we were off the reef and in deep safe water
— to Him be the praise and the glory ! I have
written all particulars as usual to m)' father, and
now that the danger has been averted, you will
rejoice to hear how great a door is opened to us in
that part of the world. Personal safety ensured,
and, so far as can be judged of, no apparent obstacle
in the way of the Mission in that quarter. Had
this great peril not occurred — and it was to human
eyes and in human language the mere ' chance ' of a
minute — I might have dwelt with too much satis-
faction on the bright side of the picture. As it is,
it is a lesson to me ' to think soberly.' I can hardly
trust myself to write yet with my usual freedom of
the scenery, natives, &c. One great thought is
before me — ' Is it all real that we touched on that
reef in the sight of hundreds of natives ?' It was
314 Life of John Coleridge Pat tcsou [Ch. VII.
not a sense of personal danger — that could not occur
at such a time ; but the idea that the vessel might
be lost, the missionary operations suspended, &c. ;
this shot through me in those two minutes ! But I
had no time for more than mental prayer, for I was
pulling at ropes with all my strength ; not till it was
all over could I go below and fall on my knees in a
burst of thanksgiving and praise. We suppose that
there must be a very strong under-current near the
reef at the mouth of the bay, for the vessel, instead
of coming round as usual (and there was abundance
of room), would not obey the helm, and we touched
an outlying rock before we could alter the sails, when
she rounded instantly on the other tack. Humanly
speaking, she would have come off very soon, as the
tide was flowing, and she received no damage, as we
came very gently against the rock, which was only
about the size of an ordinary table. But it is an
event to be remembered by me with thankfulness
all my life. I think the number of natives who had
been on deck and about us in canoes that morning
could not have been less than 450. They behaved
very well. Of the five principal chiefs three could
talk some Bauro language, so I could communicate
with them, and this was one reason why I felt satis-
fled of their good will. They gave me two pigs, about
500 or 600 cocoa-nuts, and upwards of a ton of
yams, though I told them I had only two small
hatchets, five or six adzes, a few gimlets, and empty
bottles to give in exchange. If I had not been
satisfied of their being quite friendly, I would not
have put ourselves so entirely into their power ; but
it is of the greatest consequence to let the natives
of a place see that you are not suspicious, and
where there is no evident hazard in so doing, I
1 857-] ^ night at Gera 315
think I ought to act upon it. Perhaps the Bishop,
being an older hand at it, will think I was rash ; but
as far as the natives are concerned, the result shows
I was quite right ; the letting go a kedge in deepish
water is another matter, that was a mistake I know
now. But we could not work the vessel by reason
of the crowds of natives, and what was I to do ?
Either not stand close in, as they all expected, or let
go a kedge. If I did not go into the mouth of the
bay, they would have said, ' He does not trust us,'
and mutual suspicion would have been (possibly)
the result, and I could not make them understand
rightly the reason why I did not want to drop the
kedge or small anchor.
I had slept on shore about three miles up the bay
among a number of natives, twenty-five or twenty-six
in the same room with me, on the previous evening :
at least, I lay down in my things, which, by the by,
were drenched through with salt and rain water.
They said I was the first white person that had been
ashore there. They treated me very well. How
in the face of all this could I run the risk of letting
them think I was unwilling to trust them ? So I
think still that I was right in all but one thing. I
ought to have ascertained better the nature of the
current and the bottom of the harbour, to see if
there was good holding ground. But it is easier to do
those things in an English port than in the sight of
a number of natives, and especially when there is but
one person able to communicate with the said natives.
If I went off in the boat sounding, who was to look^
after the schooner ? If I stayed on board, who was
to explain to the natives what was being done in the
boat ? Besides, we have but five men on board,
including the master and mate, and one of them was
3i6 Life of yohu Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vii.
disabled by a bad hand, so that If I had manned the
boat, I should have left only three able-bodied men
on board — it was a puzzle, you see, dear Uncle. Now
I have entered into this long- defence lest any of
you dear ones should think me rash. Indeed, I
don't want to run any risks at all. But there was
no risk here, as I supposed, and had we chosen to
gfo round on the other tack we should have known
nothing of a risk now. As it was, we did run a great
hazard of grounding on the reef, and therefore, Laiis
Deo.
Oh ! dear little Pena, if you had only seen the
village which, as yet, I alone of white people have
been allowed to see — the great tall cocoa-nuts, so tall
and slender at the top, that I was almost afraid when
a boy was sent up to gather some nuts for me — the
cottages of bamboo and cocoa-nut leaves — the great
forest trees, the parrots flying about among the
branches — the crowd of men and children and a few
women all looking at, and some talking to the strange
chief, ' who had spoken the truth and brought their
kinsman as he promised,' — the sea in the harbour
shut off by small islets and looking like a beautiful
lake with high wooded and steep banks — the pretty
canoes on the beach, and the great state canoe lying
at its stone anchor about fifty yards off, about fifty
feet long, and inlaid thr 021 ghoiit ivith mother-of-pearl,
the spears leaning against the houses — men stalking
about with a kind of club (the great chief Puruhanua
gave me his) ; — I think your little head would have
been almost turned crazy. . . .
y^me /\t/L, Auckland. — We reached harbour a
week ago in a violent squall of wind and rain at
8.45 I'.M. Anxious night after the anchor was
dropped, lest the v(;ssel sliould drag. Nine days
1857] ^^^' Dudley s Recollections 317
coming from Norfolk Island, very heavy weather —
no accident, but jib-boom pitched away while lying
to in a south-easter. . . .
Your loving nephew,
J. C P.
The Rev. Benjamin Thornton Dudley, for several
years a most valuable helper in the work, both at
home and abroad, gives the following account of his
own share in it, and his recollections of that first
year.
The first time I ever saw Mr. Patteson was in the
beginning of 1856, when you (this is a letter to
Mrs. Selwyn) all visited Lyttelton in the newly
arrived ' Southern Cross.' That indescribable charm
of manner, calculated at once to take all hearts by
storm, was not perhaps as fully developed in him
then as afterwards, and my experience was then
comparatively limited, yet his words in the sermon
he preached on behalf of the Melanesian Mission (a
kind of historical review of the growth and spread
of the Gospel), although coming after the wonderful
sermon of the Bishop in the morning, made a deep
impression on several of us, myself among the
number.
You came to Lyttelton at the end of 1856 again,
this time without him, and the Bishop brought me
up to St. John's College, and placed me under him
there. I remember at first how puzzled I felt as to
what my position was, and what I was expected to
do. Not a single direction was given me by Mr.
Patteson, nor did he invite me to take a class in the
comparatively small Melanesian school. Gradually
it dawned upon me that I was purposely left there,
and that I was expected to offer myself for anything
3i8 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. vil.
I could do.-^ When I offered myself I was allowed
to assist ill this and that, until at length I fell
into my regular place. Although the treatment I
received in this respect puzzled me, I felt his
great kindness from the first. How bright he was
in those days, and how overflowing with spirits
when among the Melanesians. What fun there
used to be of a morning, when he would come and
hunt the lazy ones out of bed, drive them down to
the bath house, and there assist their ablutions with
a few basins of water thrown at them ; and what an
amount of quiet ' chaff' used to go on at breakfast
time about it as we sat with them in the great hall,
without any of those restraints of the ' high table '
which were introduced at dinner.
During the first voyage made that year to return
our Melanesian party, I think Mr. Patteson was feeling
very much out of sorts. I do not remember any
time during the years in which I was permitted to see
so much of him when he took things so easily. He
spoke of himself as lazy, and I confess I used to
wonder somewhat how it was that he retired so
completely into the cabin, and did apparently so
little in the way of study. He read the ' Heir of
Redely ffe,' and other books of light reading in that
voyage. I understood better afterwards what, raw
youth as I was at the time, puzzled me in one for
whom I was already beginning to entertain a feeling
different from any previously experienced. That
seems to me now to have been quite a necessary
pause in his life after he had with wholeheartedness
and full intention given himself to his work, but
before he had fully faced all its requirements and
' Mr. Dudley's father had offered liiin to the Bishop as an assistant.
1 857-] Close of the first Years Tiitorskip 319
had learnt to map out his whole time with separate
toil.
So concluded what may be called the first term of
Coley Patteson's tutorship of his island boys. His
work is perhaps best summed up in this sentence
in a letter to me from Mrs. Abraham : 'Mr. Patteson's
love for them, and his facility in communicating with
them in their own tongue, make his dealing with the
present set much more intimate and effective than it
has ever been before, and their affections towards
him are drawn out in a lively manner.'
320 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
CHAPTER VIII.
ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE AND LIFU
1857— 1859
It seems to me that the years between 1856 and 1861
were the very brightest of Coleridge Patteson's life.
He had left all for Christ's sake and the Gospel's, and
was reaping the blessing in its freshness. His struggles
with his defects had been successful, the more so
because he was so full of occupation that the old
besetting trouble, self-contemplation, had been expelled
for lack of opportunity ; and he had become far more
simple, since humility was ceasing to be a conscious
effort.
There is a light-heartedness about his letters like
that of the old Eton times. Something might have
been owing to the impulse of health, which was due
to the tropical heat. Most probably this heat was what
exhausted his constitution so early, but at first it was
a delightful stimulus, and gave him exemption from all
those discomforts witli which cold had affected him at
home. This exhilaration bore him over the many
trials of close contact with uncivilized human nature
so completely lliaL liis friends never even guessed at
his natural faslidiousiiess. 'Iliat wliich mii>lit have been
^^57-] Lett 67' to Jiidge Coleridge 321
selfish ill this fastidiousness was conquercxl, tlioiigh
the refinement remained. Even to the last, in his most
solitary hours, this personal neatness never relaxed, but
the victory over disgust was a real triumph over self,
which no doubt was an element of happiness.
While the Bishop continued to go on the voyages
with him, he had companionship, guidance, and com-
paratively no responsibility, while his success, that
supreme joy, was wonderfully unalloyed, and he felt
his own especial gifts coming constantly into play.
His love for his scholars was one continual well of
delight, and really seemed to be an absolute gift,
enabling him to win them over, and compensating for
what he had left, even while he did not cease to love
his home with deep tenderness.
Another pair of New Zealand friends had to be
absent for a time. Archdeacon Abraham's arm was
so severely injured by an accident with a horse, that the
effects were far more serious than those of a common
fracture. The disaster took place in Patteson's presence.
' I shall never forget ' writes his friend, * his gentleness
and consideration as he first laid me down in a room
and then went to tell my wife.'
It was found necessary to have recourse to English
advice ; the Archdeacon and Mrs. Abraham went home,
and were never again residents at Auckland.
A letter to Mr. Justice Coleridge was written in the
interval between the voyages : —
Auckland: June 12, 1857.
My dear Uncle, — You will not give me credit for
being a good correspondent, I fear ; but the truth is
that I seldom find time to do more than write long
chatty letters to my dear father and sisters, occa-
I. Y
32 2 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
sionally to Thorverton, and to Miss Neill and one or
two others to cheer them in their sickness and
weariness. Any news from afar may be a real
relaxation.
Plenty of business letters I write, of course, but
not many pleasure letters. Now, however, I have
a few minutes. I have been ordering stores for our
northern voyage now to begin, talking with captain
about shipping men ; then I visited a dying soldier
with the clergyman of the parish, who administered
to us the Holy Eucharist. Then to the Bank, made
up the balance of Melanesian account, and now I
am sitting in the litde cottage of the military chief
medical officer, a worthy friend of mine. Dr. P., who
is displaying the wonders of an admirable microscope
to the Bishop of Christ Church and Archdeacon
William Williams.
I am a good deal on board, though the vessel is
in harbour ; but when on shore I can always get a
bed, and such comfortable quarters, that I hardly
know how to desert them, at Dr. P.'s house. People
conspire to spoil and unfit for his work any mission-
ary returning from a voyage, and I don't object to
find myself on shore occasionally, I can promise
you.
I need not recapitulate what I have written at
length to my father of missionary operations. You
will rejoice with us when you hear of the great door
and effectual that seems opening to us in the
Solomon Islands, and you will, I know, all of you,
thank God for the deliverance of the Mission vessel
from that reef at Guadalcanar.
For myself 1 need only say that I find these dear
people most attractive and winning, that it is no
effort to love tliem, tliat tliey display all natural gifts
1 857-] Nengone Scholars 323
in a remarkable way — good temper, affection, gentle-
ness, obedience, gratitude, &c., occasionally real self-
restraint. Dear Hirika's last words to me at San
Cristoval were, ' Oh, I do love you so,' and his
conduct showed it. He is a bright handsome lad,
clever but inaccurate, of most sweet disposition. In
matters of personal cleanliness, healthy appearance,
&c., the change in seven months was that of a lad
wholly savage becoming neat, tidy in dress, and of
gentlemanly appearance. In some ways he was my
pet of the whole party, though I have equally bright
hopes of Gariri, a sturdy, honest fellow with the best
temper I almost ever found among lads of sixteen
anywhere ; and Kerearua is the most painstaking
fellow of the lot, and a boy whose distinguishing
features it would be hard to describe ; but he may
be summed up as a very good boy, and certainly a
most loveable one. Sumaro and Rimarua older and
less interesting.
Toto and Warumai belong to the next island of
the group, Guadalcanar. They were not quite so
painstaking as the three younger lads from San
Christoval, but intelligent and active in mind and
body. I am satisfied that their people are highly
enterprising and manly, not unlikely to take a lead
in the civilisation of the neighbouring islands.
I printed short catechisms, a translation of the
Lord's Prayer, Creed, General Confession, two or
three other of the Common Prayer prayers, and one
or two short missionary prayers in the dialect of
both islands ; but I can only speak at all fluently
the language of San Cristoval.
Of the Nengone people I could say much more.
The two young women (married) and the two young
Y 2
324 Life of John Coleridge Pattesoii [c h. v 1 1 1 .
unmarried men had been under Mr. Nihill's instruc-
tion two or three years, baptized^ and were regular
communicants while at the College. Simeona was
baptized on the same day as his infant son, after he
had been with us five months. He and the other
four were confirmed at the College chapel, and he
afterwards received the Holy Communion with the
rest.
Kowine, a lad of seventeen, is not baptized, though
well instructed. We were not wholy satisfied about
him. Of the knowledge of them all I can speak
with the utmost confidence. They know more a
ofreat deal than most candidates for confirmation in
a well-regulated English parish. It was delightful
to work with them. We wrote Bible history, which
has reached about fifty sheets in MS. in small hand-
writing, bringing the history to the time of Joshua ;
very many questions and answers, and translated
ninety pages of the Prayer Book, including Services
for Infant and Adult Baptism, Catechism, Burial
Service, &c.
It is most interesting work, though not easy, and
much of it will no doubt be altered when we come
to know the language thoroughly well. This island of
Nengone (called also Maro and Britannia Island) con-
tains about 6,500 inhabitants, of whom some profess
Christianity, while the remainder are still fighting
and eating one another, though accessible to white
people.
We hope to have time to see something of the
heathen i)oi)u]ali()n, though, the London Mission
Society having reoccupied the island, we do not regu-
larly visit it with the intention of establishing our-
selves. . . . The language is confined to that island.
I call it language, not dialect, for it is, I believe, really
1 857-] Nengone Language 325
distinct from any others we have or have heard of,
very soft, hke Itahan, and capable of expressing
accurately minute shades of meaning. Causative
forms, &c., remind us of the oriental structure, one
peculiarity (that of the chief's dialect, or almost
language, running parallel to that of common life) I
think I have before mentioned.
You will hear from Feniton of my late voyage to
the Loyalty and Solomon Isles, a small supplementary
affair, merely to return our scholars. It was very
enjoyable, but I had great anxiety at Guadalcanar,
where, but for God's great mercy, we might have
been long enough on a reef to have sorely tried the
temper and character of some four or five hundred
natives. There is, I trust, good ground for hoping
that a great opening for missionary effort is granted
now in two places of the Solomon Islands.
In about a month I suppose we shall be off again
for three or four months, and we long to get hold of
pupils from the Banks Archipelago, Santa Cruz,
Espiritu Santo, in which no ground is broken at
present. We visited them last year, but did not get
any pupils ; lovely islands, very populous, and the
natives very bright, intelligent looking. But how I
long to see again some of my own dear boys, I do
so think of them ! It may be that two or three of
them may come again to us, and then we may per-
haps hope that they may learn enough to be really
useful to their own people . . . Dear uncle, I should
indeed rejoice much to see my dear dear father
and sisters and Jem and all of you if it came in the
way of one's business, but I think, so long as I am
well, that the peculiar nature of this work must require
the constant presence of one personally known to,
and not only officially connected with, the natives.
o
26 Life of yoJm Coleridge Patteson [c h. V 1 1 1 .
While I feel very strongly that in many ways inter-
course occasionally resumed with the home clergy
must be very useful to us, yet if you can understand
that there is no one to take one's place, you see how
very unlikely it must be that I can move from this
hemisphere. I say * if you can understand,' for it
does seem sad that one should really be in such a
position that one's presence should be of any conse-
quence ; but, till it please God that the Bishop shall
receive other men for this Mission, there is no other
teacher for these lads, and so we must rub on and
do the best we can. Of course I should be most
thankful, most happy if, during his lifetime, I once
more found myself at home, but I don't think much
nor speculate about it, and I am very happy, as I
am well and hearty. You won't suspect me of any
lessening of strong affection for all that savours of
home. I think that I know every face in Alfington
and in Feniton, and very many in Ottery, as of old ;
I believe I think of all with increasing affection, but
while I wonder at it, I must also confess that I can
and do live happy day after day without enjoying
the sight of those clear faces.
Always your affectionate and grateful nephew,
J. C. Patteson.
As soon as the ' Southern Cross ' had carried Bishop
Harper back to Lyttelton, the Melanesian voyage
was recommenced, this time with a valuable assistant
in Mr. Iknjamin Dudley. Mrs. Selwyn was again
dropped at Norfolk Island, and five young Pitcairners
were taken on board to serve as a boat's crew, and also
to receive instruction.
This was a more extensive voyage than the first, as
more time could be spent on it, but there is less full
1 857-] Fiituma and Anaiteiim 327
description, as there was less time for writing ; and
besides, these coral islands, are much alike.
Futuma was the first new island visited : —
The canoes did not venture to come off to us, so we
went ashore in the boat. Bishop and I wading ankle-
deep to the beach. Forty or fifty natives under a
deep overhanging rock, crouching around a fire,
plenty of lads and boys, no women. Some Tanna
men in the group, with their faces painted red and
black, hair (as you know) elaborately frizzled and
dressed with coral lime. The Futuma people speak
a different language from those of Anaiteum, and
the Tanna people speak a third (having, moreover,
four dialects of their own). These three islands are
all in sight of each other. Tanna has an active
volcano, now smoking away, and is like a hot-bed,
wonderfully fertile. People estimate its population
at 10,000, though it is not very large, — about thirty
miles long. At Futuma, the process by which these
coral Islands have been upheaved is well seen. The
volcanic rocks are lying under the coral, which has
been gradually thrust upwards by them. As the
coral emerged, the animal went on building under
water, continually working lower and lower down
upon and over the volcanic formation, as this heaved
in its upward course the coral formation out of the
sea.
A friendly visit was made to Anaiteum, where the
good Scotch missionaries had acquired a vessel of
their own, with the national name 'John Knox,' and
were thus enabled to extend their operations to
Tanna. This island was likewise visited. The
Bishop had often been there before, and an Anaitean
teacher was there located. The chief most earnestly
328 Life of John Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. vin.
entreated Mr. Patteson to remain there, offering to
build him a house, but this was impossible, as there
was no one else to have the charge of the Mela-
nesians at St. John's, since Archdeacon Abraham was
soon about to move to his freshly formed diocese of
Wellington. Besides, the Tannese were not destitute
of all Christian teaching, and it would have been an
interference with the Scottish mission.
Erromango was likewise occupied by this mission,
and Mr. Gordon was then living there in peace and
apparent security, when a visit was paid to him,
and Patteson gathered some leaves in Dillon's Bay,
the spot where John Williams met his death sixteen
years before, not, as now was understood, because he
was personally disliked, but because he was unconsci-
ously interfering with a solemnity that was going on
upon the beach.
At Fate Isle, the people were said to be among
the wildest in those seas, who, when the ' Royal
Sovereign '■ was wrecked, had killed the whole crew,
nineteen in number, eaten ten at once, and sent the
other nine as presents to their friends. Very few
appeared, but there was a good ' opening ' exchange
of presents.
A great number of small islets lie around Fate,
forming part of the cluster of the New Hebrides.
The Bishop had been at most of them before, and
with a boat's crew of three Pitcairners and one English
sailor, starting early and spending all day in the
boat, he; and Patteson touched at eleven in three days,
and established the first steps to communication by
obtaining 127 names of persons present, and making
gifts. These little volcanic coral isles were all much
alike, and nothing remarkable occurred but the
obtainin" two lads from Mai, named Petere and
1857] The New Hebrides 329
Laure, for a ten months' visit. Poor fellows, they
were very sea-sick at first, and begged to go home
again, but soon became very happy, and this con-
nection with Petere had important consequences in
the end. These lads spoke a language approaching
Maori, whereas the Fate tongue prevailed in the other
isles.
At Mallicolo, on August 20, a horrible sight pre-
sented itself to the eyes of the two explorers when
they walked inland with about eighteen most oblig-
ing and courteous natives — an open space with four
hollowed trunks of trees surrounding two stones,
the trees carved into the shape of grotesque human
heads, and among them a sort of temple, made of
sloping bamboos and pandanus leaves meeting at
the top, from whence hung a dead man, with his face
painted in stripes of red and yellow, procured, it was
thought, from the pollen of flowers. There was not
enough comprehension of the language to make out
the meaning of all this.
Ambrym, the next island, was more than usually
lovely, and was destined to receive many more visits.
The women made their approach crawling, some with
babies on their backs. Whitsuntide, where the casks
had to be filled with water, showed a great number
of large resolute-looking men, whose air demanded
caution ; ' but,' says the journal, ' Practice makes perfect,
and we get the habit of landing among strangers,
the knack of managing with signs and gesticulations,
and the feeling of ease and confidence which en-
genders confidence and good will in the others.
Quarrels usually arise from both parties being afraid
and suspicious of each other.'
Leper's Isle owes its unpleasant name to its medicinal
springs. It is a particularly beautiful place, containing
330 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vill.
a population of good promise. Three landings were
made there, and at the fourth place Patteson jumped
ashore on a rock and spent some time in calming the
fears of a party of natives who had been frightened in
their canoe by the boat under sail overtaking them.
' They fingered bows and arrows, but only from nervous-
ness,' he says. However, they seem to have sus-
pected the visitors of designs on their load of fine taro,
and it was some time before the owner would come
out and resume it. On all these isles the plan could
as yet only be to learn names and write them down,
so as to enquire for acquaintance next time, either
make presents, or barter them for provisions, discover
the class of language, and invite scholars for another
time.
So at Star Island three or four natives said, ' In
ten moons you two come back ; very good, then we go
with you.' ' I think,' Patteson tells his sisters, ' you
would have liked to have seen me, standing on a
rock, with my two supporters, two fine young men,
who will I trust go with us next time, my arms round
their necks, and a fine backgrdund of some thirty or
forty dark figures with bows and arrows, &c., and two
or three little rogues, perched on a point of rock above
me, just within reach, asking for fish-hooks.' He says
it in all simplicity, but the picture presupposes some
strength of mind in the sisters who were to appre-
ciate it.
Few natives appeared at Espiritu Santo, and the
vessel passed on to Oanuta or Cherry Island, where
the Bishop had never been, and where a race of dull,
good-natured giants was fountl. The chief was a
noble-looking man with an aquiline nose, and seemed
to have them well under command, and some of the
younger men, who had limbs which might have been a
model for asculjjtor, could have lifted an ordinary sized
1857.] The Banks Islands 331
Englishman as easily as a child. They were unluckily
already acquainted widi whalers, whom they thoui^ht
the right sort of fellows, since they brought tobacco
and spirits, did not interfere with native habits, nor talk
of learning, for which the giants saw no need. The
national complexion here was of a lighter yellow, the
costume a tattooed chest, the language akin to Maori ;
and it was the same at Tikopia, where four chiefs, one
principal one immensely fat, received their visitors
seated on a mat in the centre of a wide circle formed
by natives, the innermost seated, the others looking
over them. These, too, were accustomed to whalers,
and when they found that pigs and yams in exchange
for spirits and tobacco were not the object they were
indifferent. They seemed to despise fish-hooks, and
it was plain that they had even obtained muskets from
the whalers, for there were six in the chief's house, and
one was fired, not maliciously but out of display. The
Bishop told them his object, and they understood his
language, but were uninterested. The fat chief re-
galed the two guests with a cocoa-nut apiece, and then
seemed anxious to be rid of them.
The Banks Islands, as usual, were much more
hopeful, Santa Maria coming first. Canoes came round
the vessel, and the honesty of the race showed itself,
for one little boy, who had had a fish-hook given him,
wished to exchange it for calico, and having forgotten
to restore the hook at the moment, swam back with it
as soon as he remembered it. There was a landing,
and the usual friendly intercourse, but just as the boat
had put ofT, a single arrow was suddenly shot out of
the bush, and fell about ten yards short. It was
curious that the Spanish discoverers had precisely the
same experience. It was supposed to be an act of
individual mischief or fun, and the place obtained the
appropriate name of Cock Sparrow Point.
332 Life of yohu Cole'pidge Pattesoii [Ch. viii.
It was not possible to get into the one landing-place
in the wall round Mota's sugar-loaf, but there was an
exchange of civilities with the Saddle-ites, and in
Vanua Lava, the largest member of the group, a beau-
tiful harbour was discovered, which the Bishop named
Port Patteson, after the Judge.
The Santa Cruz group was visited again on the 23rd
of September. Nothing remarkable occurred ; indeed,
Patteson's journal does not mention these places, but
that of the Bishop speaks of a first landing at Nukapu,
and an exchange of names with the old chief Acenana ;
and the next day of going to the main island, where
swarms of natives swam out, with cries of Toki, ioki,
and planks before them to float through the surf.
About 250 assembled at the landing place, as before,
chiefly eager for traffic. The Volcano Isle was also
touched at, but the language of the few inhabitants
was incomprehensible. The mountain was smoking,
and red-hot cinders falling as before on the steep side.
It was tempting to climb it and investigate what pro-
bably no white man had yet seen, but it was decided
to be more prudent to abstain.
Some events of the visit to Bauro are related in the
following letter to the young cousin whose Confirma-
tion day had been notified to him in time to be thought
of in his prayers.
Off San Cristoval : October 5, 1857.
My dearest Pena, — It was in a heathen land, among
a heathen people, that I passed the Sunday — a day
most memorable in your life — on which I trust you
received for the first time the blessed Sacrament of
our Saviour's Body and Blood.
My darling, as I knelt in the chief's house, upon
tlie mat which was also my bed — the only Christian
in that large and beautiful island — my prayers were
1857.] Letter to his Ccmsin '>y^2i
I hope offered earnestly that the full blessedness of
that heavenly union with the Lord Jesus Christ, and
in Him with the Father and the Holy Ghost, might
rest upon you for ever. I had reckoned upon beini;
on board that Sunday, when the Holy luicharist
was administered on board our vessel ; but as we
reached Mwaata, our well-known village at San
Cristoval, on Saturday, we both agreed that I had
better go ashore while the vessel went away, to
return for me on Monday. My day was now
passed strangely enough, my first Sunday in a land
where no Sunday is known.
It was about 3 p.m. on Saturday when I landed,
and it was an effort to have to talk incessantly till
dark. Then the chief Iri went with me to his
house. It is only one oblong room, with a bamboo
screen running half way across it about half way
down the room. It is only made of bamboo at the
sides, and leaves for the roof Yams and other
vegetables were placed along the sides. There is
no floor, but one or two grass mats are placed on
the ground to sleep on. Iri and his wife, and an
orphan girl about fourteen or fifteen, I suppose, slept
on the other side of the screen ; and two lads, called
Gariri and Parenga, slept on my side of it. I can't
say I slept at all, for the rats were so very many,
coming in through the bamboo on every side, and
making such a noise I could not sleep, though tired.
They were running all about me.
Well, at daylight I sent Gariri to fetch some
water, and shaved and washed, to the great admira-
tion of Iri and the ladies, and of others also, who
crowded together at the hole which serves for door
and windows. I lay down in my clothes, all but
my coat, but I took a razor and some soap ashore.
334 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vill.
Sunday was spent in going about to different
neighbouring settlements, and climbing the coral
rocks was hard work, the thermometer at sea being
85° in the cool cabin, as the Bishop told me to-day.
Of course many people were at work in the
yam grounds, several of which I saw ; but I found
considerable parties at the different villages, and had,
on the whole, satisfactory conversations with them.
They listened and asked questions, and I told
them as well as I could the simplest truths of
Christianity.
I had a part of a yam and drank four cocoa-nuts
during the day besides eating some mixture of yam,
taro, and cocoa-nut all pounded together.
People offered me food and nuts everywhere.
Walked back with a boy called Tahi for my guide,
and stopped at several plantations, and talked with
the people.
Sat out in the cool evening on the beach at
Mwaata, after much talk in a chief's house called
Tarua ; people came round me on the beach, and
again I talked with them (a sort of half-preaching,
half-conversing these talks were), till Iri said we
must go to bed. Slept a little that night.
I can truly say that you were in my head all day.
After my evening prayers, when I thought of you ;
for it was about 9 p.m. = 10.10 a.m. with you, and
you were on your way to Church. I thought of you,
kneeling between your dear mamma and grand-
mamma, and dear grandpapa administering to his
three beloved ones the Bread of Life, and I was
very happy as I thought of it, for I trust, through
the mercy of God, and the merits of our Lord, that
we shall be by Ilim raised at the Last Day to dwell
witli Ilim for ever. But indeed I must not write to
1857.] ^ Sunday at Dauro 335
you how very unworthy I feh to belong to that httle
company.
This morning about eleven the vessel's boat came
off for me, with the Bishop. I had arranged about
some lads coming off with us, and it ended in seven
joining our party. Only one of our old scholars has
come again : he is that dear boy Gariri, whose name
you will remember.
Now I have had a good change of shirts, etc., and
feel clean and comfortable, though I think a good
night's rest will do me no harm. I have written to you
the first minute that I had time. What a blessed,
happy day it must have been for you, and I am sure
they thought of you at Feniton.
Your loving cousin,
J. C. P.
Of the other three Bauro scholars, Hirika, to his
teacher's great disappointment, proved to have gone
away in a Sydney vessel. Kerearua was about to be
married and could not come, and Sumaro was not well,
and dreaded sea-sickness, but Gariri's mind was quite
made up. ' I want to come back with you at once,'
he said, and he kept close to his beloved tutor all
through the visit. Hirika's elder brother was one of
the other six.
This strange Sunday was spent in conversation
with different sets of natives, and that some distinct
ideas were conveyed was plain from what old Iri was
overheard saying to a man who was asking him
whether he had not a guest who spoke Bauro : ' Yes,'
said Iri, adding that ' he said men were not like
dogs, or pigs, or birds, or fishes, because these can-
not speak or think. They all die, and no one knows
anything more about them, but he says we shall not
die like that, but rise up again.'
336 Life of fo/in Coleridge Pattcsoii [c h. V 1 1 1 .
On Monday, the 7th of October, Gera was revisited,
and Toto, a last year's scholar, came forth with his wel-
come in a canoe ; but it was rather mixed success,
for the danger of the vessel on her previous visit
was a warning against bringing her into the harbour,
where there was no safe anchorage, and this disap-
pointed the people. Thirteen, indeed, slept on board,
and the next morning sixty canoes surrounded the
vessel, and some hundred and fifty came on deck at
once ; but they brought only one pig and a few yams,
and refused to fetch more, saying it was too far — a
considerable inconvenience, considering the necessity
of providing the Melanesian passengers with vege-
table food. Toto's brother tried to hinder him from
returning, and he did not himself seem decided till
after much persuasion, but he came at last, and eight
more with him. The whole nine slept in the inner
cabin, Gariri on Patteson's sofa, ' feet to feet, the others
on the floor like herrings in a barrel.'
The great island of New Caledonia was next visited.
The Bishop had been there before, and Basset, one of
the chiefs, lamented that he had been so long absent,
and pleaded hard to have an English missionary placed
in his part of the country. It was very sad to have no
means of complying with the entreaty, and the Bishop
offered him a passage to Auckland, there to speak for
himself. He would have come, but that it was the
season for planting his yams ; but he hoped to follow,
and in tlie meantime sent a little orphan named
Kanambat to be brought up at Auckland. The little
fellow was pleased enough with the ship at first, but
wlien his countrymen who had been visiting there left
her, lie jumped over])oard and was swimming like a
duck after them, when, at a sign from the Bishop, one
of thf> ]*itcairn(;rs k'apt after him, and speedily brought
1857.] The Loyalty Isles 337
him back. He soon grew very happy and full of play and
fun, and was well off in being away from home, for the
French were occupying- the island, and poor Basset
shortly after was sent a prisoner to Tahiti for refusing
to receive a Roman Catholic priest.
The Loyalty Isles were reached on October 23, and
most of the old scholars were ready with a warm wel-
come ; but Mr. Creagh, the London missionary, had
taken Wadrokala away with him on an expedition, and
of the others, only Kowine was ready to return, though
the two married couples were going on well, and one
previous scholar of the Bishop's and four new ones
presented themselves as willing to go. Urgent letters
from the neighbouring isle of Lifu entreated the Bishop
to come thither, and, with a splendid supply of yams,
the * Southern Cross ' again set sail, and arrived on the
26th. This island had entirely abandoned heathenism,
under the guidance of the Samoans. The people felt
that they had come to the end of the stock of teaching
of these good men, and entreated for an Englishman
from the Bishop, and thus, here was the third island in
this one voyage begging for a shepherd, and only one
English priest had been found to offer himself to that
multitude of heathen !
The only thing that could be done was to take John
Cho, a former St. John's scholar, to receive instruction
to fit him for a teacher, and with him came his young
wife Naranadune and their babe, whom the Bishop
had just baptized In the coral-lime chapel, with three
other children.
In Anaiteum the Bishop christened two children of
the English store-keeper, and then all sail was made
for Norfolk Island ; but the next few days were spent in
great anxiety for Wallumai, a youth from Gera, who
I. z
338 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
was taken ill immediately after dinner with a most dis-
tressing difficulty of breathing. He proved to have a
piece of sugar-cane in his throat, which made every
breath agony, and worked a small ulcer in the throat.
All through the worst Patteson held him in his arms,
with his hand on his chest : several times he seemed
gone, and ammonia and sal volatile barely revived him.
His first words after he was partially relieved were, ' I
am Bishop ! I am Patihana!' meaning that he exchanged
names with them, the strongest possible proof of affec-
tion in Melanesian eyes. He still seemed at the point
of death, and they made him say, ' God the Father,
God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost! Jesus Christ,
Son of God.' At last a favourable change took place,
but he continued so ill for several days that his two
attendants never did more than lie down in their
clothes ; nor was it till the third day that he at length
coughed up the piece of cane that had caused the mis-
chief He still required so much care that Patteson did
not go on shore at Norfolk Island when the five
Pitcairners were exchanged for Mrs. Selwyn.
On November 15 Auckland harbour was again
reached after this signally prosperous voyage. It is
thus summed up in a letter written two days later.
November 17, 1857 : St. John's College.
My dear Miss Neill — Thanks for your 2/. 2s. and
more thanks still for your prayers and constant
interest in this part of the world. After nearly
seventeen weeks at sea we returned safely on
Sunday morning the 15th, with thirty-three Mela-
nesians, gathered from nine islands and speaking
eight languages. Plenty of work for me : I can teach
tolerably in three, and have a smattering of one or
two more.
1857.] Letter to Miss Neill 339
One is the wife of a young- man, John Cho, an old
scholar baptized. His half-brother is chief of Lifu
Isle, a man of great influence. The London Mission
(Independents) are leaving all their islands unpro-
vided with missionaries, and these people having
been much more frequently visited by the Bishop
than by the ' John Williams,' turn to him for help.
By and by I will explain all this : at present no time.
We visited sixty-six islands and landed eighty-one
times, wading, swimming, &c. ; all most friendly and
delightful ; only two arrows shot at us, and only one
went near, — so much for savages. I wonder what
people ought to call sandal-wood traders and slave
masters if they call my Melanesians savages.
You will hear accounts of the voyage from Fanny.
I have a long journal going to my father, but I can't
make time to write at length any more. I am up
before five and not in bed before eleven, and you
know I must be lazy sometimes. It does me good.
Oh ! how great a trial sickness would be to me ! In
my health now all seems easy. Were I circum-
stanced like you, how much I should no doubt repine
and murmur. God has given me hitherto a most
merciful share of blessings, and my dear father's
cordial approbation of and consent to my proceedings
is among the greatest. . . .
The anniversary of my dear mother's death comes
round in ten days. .That is my polar star (humanly
speaking), and whensoever it pleases God to take
my dear dear father to his rest, how blessed to
think of their waiting for us, if it be His merciful
will to bring me too to dwell before Him with them
for ever.
I must end, for I am very busy. The weather is
cold, and my room full of lads and young men. If
340 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. viii.
I was not watching like a cat they would be standing
about in all sorts of places and catching cold.
I send you, in a box, a box made by Pitcairners
of Pitcairn woods.
Ever your loving old pupil,
J. C. Patteson.
The little New Caledonian remained at Taurarua
with the Bishop, and as there was no woman at St.
John's to take the charge of Cho's wife, she was
necessarily sent to Mrs, Kissling's school for Maori
girls, while her husband pursued his studies at St.
John's.
On Advent Sunday Mr, Patteson writes : —
You would have been interested in hearing my large
gallery class of nine Guadalcanar, seven Bauro, and
two Mai men reading in English from the black
board the three first petitions of the Lord's Prayer,
I standing stick and chalk in hand, and explaining
and questioning by turns in the three languages,
though fluently only in Bauro. I make English the
basis, for otherwise, with so many languages — six
here and two more spoken by the boys with the
Bishop at Taurarua — how could I teach all ? — 5. p.m.
After Melanesian service, meant to write a line, but
a Bauro lad took up in my room a print of the
Crucifixion, which led to a long and most happy
talk to him about it. Really there does seem to be
a great work of grace about to be accomplished in
the hearts of some of these lads. Bauro boys are
my favourites, I must say — so gentle, docile and
good, hull ()1 km and occasionally quite capable
of mischief, as of course all boys are if they are worth
anything; ' but the material is good stuff — real honesty
and steadiness of character.
1857.] Invitation to Otaki 341
December 4. — I see a Nengone lad laughing at
a Bauro boy's ignorance, mocking and worrying
him. I make him tell me the parable of the
Pharisee and Publican, which he does perfectly,
question him upon it, and receive good answers, and
yet after half an hour I have to put the question
point blank, ' Now are you not acting like that
Pharisee ? ' no idea of applying the lesson to himself
having ever crossed his mind. That is a type of
very many of them, but some are very promising.
Bauro lads all seem good, three or four delightful ;
Gera less amusing, but jolly fellows. The two Mai
young men are very intelligent pleasing fellows,
the Espiritu Santo lad beginning at last. Lifu and
Toke lads alike. But I yet find that as boys learn
reading and writing, they learn many bad things
along with the good. The old story ! Tree of
knowledge of good and evil !
Patteson often gave his services at the Maori village
of Otaki, where there was to be a central native school
managed by Pirimona (Philemon), a well-trained man,
a candidate for Holy Orders.
However, this did not satisfy his countrymen. ' As
if I had not enough to do, old Wi comes with a
request from the folks at Otaki that I would be
their '' minita," and take the management of the
concern. Rather rich, is it not ? I said, of course,
that I was minita for the islanders. " O let the
Bishop take another man for that, you are the
minister for us." He is, you know, wonderfully
tattooed, and a great object of curiosity to the boys.'
Before many days had passed, there had occurred
the first case of that fatal tetanus, which became only
too well known to those concerned in the Mission.
342 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
Of course all weapons were taken from the scholars,
but one of the San Cristoval boys, named Tohehammai,
fetched one of his own arrows out of Mr. Dudley's
room to exchange with an English lad for a shirt, and
as he was at play, carrying the arrow in his left hand
behind his back and throwing a stick like a spear with
the other, he sharply pricked his right arm, within the
elbow, against the point of the arrow, but thinking
nothing of the hurt, and knowing that the weapons
were forbidden playthings, he said nothing for twelve
days, but then complained of stiffness in the arm.
Two doctors happened to be at the College that day ;
one thought it rheumatism, the other mentioned the
word tetanus, but for three days more the arm was
merely stiff, it was hung in a sling, and the boy went
about as usual, until, on the fifteenth day, spasmodic
twi tellings in the arm came on.
Liniment of chloroform was rubbed in, and the boy
was kept under chloroform, but in vain ; the next day
his whole body was perfectly" rigid with occasional
convulsions. About 4 p.m. his throat had become
contracted, and the endeavour to give him nourishment
brought on convulsive attacks. The Bishop came at
8 P.M., and after another attempt at giving him food,
which produced a further spasm, he was lying quietly,
when Patteson felt his pulse stop.
' He is dying ! ' the Bishop said. ' Father, into Thy
hands we commend his spirit.'
Patteson's ' Amen ' came from his heart. The poor
fellow made no sound as he lay with his frame rigid,
his back arched so that an arm could be thrust under
it. He was gone in that moment, unbaptized. Patte-
son writes : —
I had much conllict with myself about it. He had
1857-] 1^^^^ First Case of Tetaniis 343
talked once with me in a very hopeful wa)', but
during his illness I could not obtain from him any
distinct profession of faith, anything to make me
feel pretty sure that some conviction of the truth of
what he had been taught, and not mere learning by
rote, was the occasion of his saying what he did say.
I did wish much that I might talk again with the
Bishop about it, but his death took us by surprise.
I pray God that all my omission and neglect of duty
may be repaired, and that his very imperfect and
unconscious yearnings after the truth maybe accepted
for Christ's sake.
The arrow was reported to have been poisoned, but
by the time the cause of the injury had been discovered
it had been thrown away, and could not be recovered
for examination. Indeed, lockjaw seems to be so
prevalent in the equatorial climates, and the natives so
peculiarly liable to it, that poison did not seem needful
to account for the catastrophe.
Altogether, these lads were exotics in New Zealand,
and exceedingly fragile. In the very height of summer
they had to wear corduroy trousers, blue serge shirts,
red woollen comforters, and blue Scotch caps, and the
more delicate a thick woollen jersey in addition ; and
with all these precautions they were continually catch-
ing cold, or getting disordered, and then the Bauro
and Gera set could only support such treatment as
young children generally need. The Loyalty Islanders
were much tougher and stronger and easier to treat,
but they, too, showed that the climate of Auckland was
a hard trial to their constitutions.
A few days later the lost William Didimang re-
appeared. He said he had gone in a trading vessel with
Iri's son, intending to work their way to New Zealand,
344 ^'^f^ of Jolni Coleridge Patteson [Ch viii.
but they had been taken to China, and there the young
chief had died ; Pidimang had then been taken to
Sydney, and thence had worked his passage. There
was a Httle doubt whether after two years among
sailors he would be a safe companion for his country-
men, but he did no mischief, though, as he had always
been, he was a slow, lazy, indifferent scholar.
On the fifth of February, six boys were baptized,
among them Gariri.
On the last day of March came tidings of the sudden
death of the much-beloved and honoured Dr. James
Coleridge of Thorverton.
* It is a great shock,' says the letter written the same
day ; ' not that I feel unhappy exactly, nor low, but
that many many memories are revived and keep
freshening on my mind. . . . And since I left
England, his warm, loving, almost too fond letters
have bound me very closely to him, and sorely I
shall miss the sight of his handwriting ; though he
may be nearer to me now than before, and his love
for me is doubtless even more pure and fervent. . . .
' I confess I had thought sometimes that if it
pleased God to take you first, the consciousness that
he would be with you was a great comfort to me — not
that any man is worth much then. God must be
all in all. But yet he of all men was the one who
would have been a real comfort to you, and even
more so to others.'
To his cousin he writes : —
Wednesday in Passion Week, 1858: St. John's College.
My dearest Sophy, — Your letter with the deep black
border was the iirsL that I ()|)ened, with trembling
hand, thinking: ' Is it dear dear Uncle gone to his
eternal rest ; or dear Aunty ? not that dear child,
1858.] Death of Dr. Coleridge 345
may God grant ; for that would somehow seem to
all most bitter of all — less, so to speak, reasonable
and natural.' And he Is really gone ; that dear,
loving, courageous, warm-hearted servant of Christ ;
the desire of our eyes taken away with a stroke. I
read your letter wondering that I was not upset,
knelt down and said the two prayers in the Burial
Service, and then came the tears ; for the memory
of him rose up very vividly before me, and his deep
love for me and the notes of comfort and encourage-
ment he used to write were very fresh in my mind.
I looked at the print of him, the one he sent out
to me, with 'your loving old Uncle' in pencil on it.
I have all his letters : when making a regular clear-
ance some months ago, I could not tear up his,
althouQ;'h dancrerous ones for me to read unless used
as a stimulant to become what he thouo-ht me. His
'Jacob ' sermon, in his own handwriting, I have by me.
But more than all, the memory of his holy life, and
his example as a minister of Christ, have been left
behind for us as a sweet, undying fragrance ; his
manner in the sick-room — I see him now, and hear
that soft, steady, clear voice repeating verses over
my dear mother's death-bed ; his kindly, loving ways
to his poor people ; his voice and look in the pulpit,
never to be forgotten. I knew I should never see
him again in this world. May God of His mercy
take me to be with him hereafter.
Thank you, dear Sophy, for writing to me : every
word about him is precious. I make one or two
extracts from his last letter to me : —
* You will believe how sweet it is to me every
month now to give the Holy Eucharist to my three
dear ones.'
' All complaints of old men must be serious.'
546 Life of John Coleridge Paftcsoti [Ch. VIII.
'. wish I had more time to write, but I am too
busy in the midst of school, and printing" scripture
histories and private prayers, and translations in
Nengone, Bauro, Lifu ; and as all my time out of
school is spent in working in the printing office,- I
really have not a minute unoccupied. With one
exception, I have scarcely ever taken an hour's walk
for some six weeks, A large proportion of the
printing is actually set up by my own fingers ; but
now one Nengone lad, the flower of my flock,
can help me much — a young man about seventeen
or eighteen, of whom I hope very vmcJi — Malo,
baptized by the name of Harper, an excellent
young man, and a great comfort to me. He
was setting up in type a part of the little book of
private prayers I am now printing for them. I had
just pointed out to him the translation of what
would be in English — ' It is good that a man as
he lies down to sleep should remember that that
night he may hear the summons of the Angel of
God ; so then let him think of his death, and
remember the words of St. Paul : " Awake, thou that
sleepest," ' etc. ; when in came the man whom the
Archdeacon left in charge here with my letters. ' I
hope, sir, there is no bad news for you ;' and my eye
lighted on the deep black border of your envelope.
... I have often been sorry that I asked for his
Spinckes ; it was very selfish of me. I fear you
have already sent it, but to take from you the book
of prayers used by him on the night of Christmas
Day, the Eve of Ids Birthday into Life Everlasting,
is too much. I know neither he nor you grudged
me anything at any time ; but yet, if not already
sent, don't send // : some other book with his hand-
writing, and again j^ut )'ours and Aunty's and
1858.] Easter Day 347
Pena's, as in clear Fanny's ' Thomas a Kempis.' And
now I must end. It is past 7 p.m. and my room is
full of boys come for evening school and prayers.
To-morrow, if I live, I enter upon my thirty-second
year — a solemn warning I have received to-day,
as another year is passing from me. May some
portion of his spirit rest on me to bless my poor
attempt to do what he did so devotedly for more
than forty years : his duty as a soldier and servant
of his Lord and Master, into whose joy he has no
doubt now entered.
Easter Day. — What an Easter for him ! and
doubtless we all who will by and by, as the world
roils round, receive the Holy Eucharist shall be in
some way united to him as well as to all departed
saints — members of His Mystical Body. It will be
a severe trial to pass it without his bodily presence.
And how you must miss him in Church. I do
think of you all, indeed. Dear, patient Aunty. I
can see her sweet face now — and I think something
must have passed upon Pena, giving a graver
look sometimes to those bright laughing eyes.
Perhaps it was good for her that her first trial should
come as she was entering into life, and passing
away from childish things. First trial I say, because
she could not sympathize with you in your great
bereavement.
11.30 P.M. April II, Sunday,
Dear Sophy, — The eve of your birthday, on which
five of my dear pupils, including a little infant of
thirteen days old, have been baptized by the Bishop.
We baptized a lad, James, two months ago, otherwise
you know that would have been the first name.
Andrew, Philip, and Fi'-ank (how I thought of dear
Uncle F.), Margaret, and the baby Fanny. May
348 Life of Jo hn Coleridge Pat teson [Ch. viii.
God grant that they may not disgrace their names.
Frank is a noble-looking lad — clear, bright, honest
eye ; full of life and high spirits.
April 12. — Your birthday, dear Sophy. God
bless you, and grant you many still happy years, for
your dear child is a constant source of happiness
and comfort ; and there is much within to make
life here not only supportable but happy even, I
know.
Bishop came out yesterday afternoon from
Auckland. After baptisms at 5, and evening
service at 7, sat till past 1 1 settling plans :
thus, God willing, start this day fortnight to return
the boys — this will occupy about two months ; as
we come back from the far north, he will drop me
at Lifu, one of the Loyalty Islands, with large
population ; he will go on to New Zealand, stay
perhaps six weeks in New Zealand, or it may be two
months ; so that with the time occupied by his voyage
from Lifu to New Zealand, 1,000 miles and back, he
will be away from Lifu about two and a half or
three months. Then, picking me up (say about
September 1 2), we go on at once to the whole
number of our islands, spending three months or so
among them, getting back to New Zealand about
the end of November. So that I shall be in Mela-
nesia, D.V., from the beginning of May to the end of
November. I shall be able to write once more
before we start — letters which you will get by the
June mail from Sydney— and of course I shall send
letters by the Bishop when he leaves me at Lifu,
But I shall not be able to hear again from England
till the P)ish()p conies to pick me up in vSeptember.
Never mind. I shall have plenty to do; and I can
think of those dear ones at home, and of you all, in
1858.] A Lifu Baby 349
God's keeping", with perfect comfort. The Lifu
people are in a more critical state than any others
just now, otherwise I should probably stop at San
Cristoval. A few years ago they were very wild —
cannibals of course ; but they are now building
chapels, and thirsting for the living waters. What
a privilege and responsibility to go to them as
Christ's minister, to a people longing for the glad
tidings of the Gospel of Peace. Samoan teachers
have been for a good many years among them.
I cannot write now to dearest Aunty or Pena.
May God bless you and abundantly comfort you.
... I think I see his dear face. I see him always.
Your loving cousin,
J. C. Patteson.
Cho's wife had arrived in a cart at the College when
her baby was a day old, so rapid is recovery with
mothers in those climates. ' I saw the baby,' observes
the journal, ' quite strong, not dark, — but I don't care
for them till they can talk ; on the contrary, I think
them a great bore, especially in wooden houses, where
a child with good lungs may easily succeed in keeping
all the inhabitants awake.'"
' I should like you,' he continues to his father, ' to
write a line to the Rev. B. W. Dudley, Lyttelton, New
Zealand. He and Mrs. Dudley have so heartily given
up their son to the work which involves not seeing
him for even years together, that his case bears a
resemblance to yours.'
The Easter Sunday letter to Miss Neill, after de-
scribing Rota, the Maori deacon (from whom a letter
was enclosed), and speaking of the disturbed state of
New Zealand, proceeds : —
Meanwhile I live in peace and comfort among my
3 5 o Life of fohn Coleridge Patteson [c 1 1. V 1 1 1 .
own people, with thirty-three Melanesians around
me, gathered from nine islands, and speaking eight
tongues. The last voyage was, I am thankful to
say, most delightful and prosperous altogether.
Sixty-six islands visited, eighty-one landings made,
swimming, wading, &c., like two fellows at school or
college, enjoying the lark of headers from coral
rocks, with w^ater disclosing in its purity its treasures
of gold and scarlet and violet and blue, many fathoms
below. We were everywhere well treated ; I make
no account of two arrows shot at us at Sta. Maria, as
really it was only the act of two or three mischievous
fellows, the greater number of the people being most
friendly.
I hope to spend the three months that will inter-
vene between the short voyage for returning the
lads and the regular long missionary cruise, on Lifu,
a large island now stretching out its hands, and
much needing a missionary. If not there, very
likely at Bauro. It is a matter of very small conse-
quence where ; everywhere there is plenty of work
and plenty of enjoyment.
Meanwhile, my dear fathers failing health, my
dear dear Uncle James's sudden (yet to him not
sudden) call to his rest — these things, I hope, tend
to withdraw my mind somewhat from the tempta-
tions of good health and active enjoyment. I have
very little time for assistance, none for study. My
room and my time full from morning to night, print-
ing, translating, teaching ; but what a different lot is
yours, far more difficult to bear, yet far more purify-
ing, and affording, no doubt, moments when the
soul is almost consciously nearer, very near to
God.
1858.] Letter to his Sister P^anny 351
A letter to his sister Fanny was being- carried on,
parallel as it were with this : —
March 25, 1858.
My dearest Fan, — I dare say you all are thinking, as I
am, that this is the third anniversary of the last day I
spent at home. It is the old story — great thankfulness
that I can look back upon it with real thankfulness,
with almost wonder that I am so free from regret
and low spirits, and that I am so constantly and
uninterruptedly happy. It is indeed more, much
more than I ever dared to hope for, and I know that
the trial may come any day, but as yet all has been
bright. The utmost that I ever feel is some sensation
of fatigue at the perpetual teaching boys to read. It
is partly, honestly, because I do not yet feel sure that I
have found the right way. I know the Bishop thinks
more than I do about teaching English, which being
about the hardest of all languages to learn, is, I feel
almost sure, nearly useless in any attempt to convey
instruction to them. They learn to talk as Eng-
lishmen make themselves so far understood on the
Continent as to get food and to move about on rail-
ways, &c., but neither the one nor the other could
learn all that is implied in the idea of education.
Now, as I find that even Didi, who has been
already two years in an English vessel, can't get on
in English, and always by preference talks Bauro to
me, surely it is better to work them as well as I can in
the language that is the best chance of communication
between us. I do feel a little tried sometimes, for I
have much of the printer's work on my hands. I have
had to set up the last part of the Melanesian report
myself — a long job, not less, I suppose, than 20,000
letters, nearly a week's work. This I grudged, but
setting up Lifu, Bauro, Nengone, &c., I like well
352 Life of John Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. vili.
enough. I shall send by an early opportuniL)' all
my translations, as you like to see my hand in print
as well as MS., I dare say. Just now we are print-
ing a very small pocket-book, as it were, of private
prayers for the Nengone boys, to be followed by
ditto in Lifu. This I shall give only to my own
lads, because it might sorely offend the Independent
missionaries in Nengone
Altogether your account of meeting with old
friends seems ... to read like an ' experience of
life.' It made me realize that we are 'jogging up
long,' though somehow I always fancy I am still a
boy.
The music would have been a treat indeed. I do
long sometimes to hear something like a chant or
psalm, but all in good time.
April 12. — Sophy's birthday. What a blow has
fallen upon them and you all ! Dear, dear uncle !
Never was a man more deserving of love, I am sure,
and I did love him clearly. But I think more of the
said loss to clear Father especially — his most valued
friend taken away. A very great grief indeed it must
be to him, and this, just when his total retirement
from Privy Council must have made him look
forward with increasing delight to the frequent
interchange of visits between Feniton and Thor-
verton.
Settled that I stop at Lifu in the interval between
the two voyages. I think Lifu wants me more than
any other island just now. Some 15,000 or 20,000
stretching out their hands to God. The London
Mission (Independent) sent Samoan teachers long
ago, but no missionary, even after frequent appli-
cations. At last they apply personally to the Bishop,
he beintr well known to them of old. I can't cfo for
1858.] Plans for Life 353
good, because I have of course to visit all these
islands ; but I shall try to spend all the time that I
am not at sea or with boys in New Zealand, perhaps
three months yearly, with them, till they can be
provided with a regular clergyman.
So I shall have no letters from you till the
return of the vessel to pick me up in September.
But be sure you think of me as very happy and well
cared for, though, I am glad to say, not a white man
on the island ; lots of work, but I shall take much
exercise and see most of the inhabitants. The
island is large, not so large as Bauro, but still large ;
you will see the position in the chart I sent home.
I may write more perhaps by and by. Yesterday
John Cho's and Naranadune's (now Margaret's)
child of fifteen days was baptized Fanny ; I thought
indeed of you and dear Mamma. Her mother
was baptized at the same time, and two lads from
Nengone, and one from Toke who is called Frank.
Dear Uncle Frank's loving face was clearly before
me as the bright-eyed handsome dark lad of four-
teen or so received a name which I pray God he
may never disgrace. He will, I hope, continue to
be with me in time to come. All your parish accounts
are interesting to me, but I cannot write about them.
Specially remember me to poor Anne .
Head full of languages, printing, translations, all
day writing, like a wild fellow, for the mail. Norfolk
Island we give up.
You will say all that is kind to all relations,
Buckerell, &c. Thank the dear old vicar for the
spurs, and tell him that I had a battle royal the
other day with a colonial steed, which backed into
the bush, and kicked, and played the fool amazingly,
I. A A
354 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. viii.
till I considerably astonished him into a gallop, in
the direction I wanted to go, by a vigorous appli-
cation of the said spurs.
God bless and keep you all.
Your loving
J. C. Patteson.
A few days later he writes : —
The ' Southern Cross,' returning to Lifu, will bring my
letters ; but unless a stray whaler comes to Lifu while
I am there, on its way to Sydney, that will be the
only exchange of letters. I am afraid this will be an
increase of the trial of separation to you all, but it is
not sent until you have learnt to do pretty well
without me, and you will be comforted by knowing
that this island of Lifu, with many inhabitants, is in
a very critical state ; that what it most wants is a
missionary, and that as far as I am concerned, all
the people will be very anxious to do all they can
for me. I take a filter and some tea. We shall
have yams, taro, cocoa-nuts, occasionally a bit of
turtle, a fowl, or a bit of pork. So, you see, I shall
live like an alderman. I mean, if I can, to go to every
part of the island, heathen and all. Perhaps 20,000
people, scattered over many miles. I say heathen
and all, because only a very small number of
the people now refuse to admit the new teaching.
Samoans have been for some time on the island, and
though, I dare say, their teaching has been very im-
perfect, and only perhaps ten or fifteen people are
baptized, they have chapels, and are far advanced
beyond any of the islands except Nengone and Toke,
always excepting Anaiteum. Hence it is thought
the leaven may work quietly in the Solomon Islands
1858.] Voyage to Lifu 355
without me, but that at Lifu they really require
guidance. So now I have a parochial charge for
three months of an island about twenty-five miles
long and some sixteen or eighteen broad.
I feel that my letters, after so long an absence,
may contain much to make me anxious, so that I
shall not look with unmixed pleasure to my return
to my great packet ; yet I feel much less anxiety
than you might imagine ; I know well that you are
in God's keeping, and that is enough. I wrote
lately to dear old F. (his nurse). How she would
like Margaret and her baby, and find her an apt
pupil with her needle and thread ! They all have a
genius that way, and the young lady, albeit the
daughter of the chief of one island, and the wife of
the chief of another, has, unknown to me, been
learning how to wash and starch, with a view to my
shirts in Lifu.
On touching at Norfolk Island on May 8, to leave
Mrs. Selwyn there, it appeared that the Bauro lad,
Hirika, had been there in a whaler, and had said in
broken English that he meant to stay in New Zealand,
asking, ' Where is Mr. Patteson } ' The whaler had
gone on to New Zealand, and returning, reported the
having left him on the Bay of Islands, about a hundred
miles from Auckland. How would the poor fellow
make his way thither, or bear the cold of a New Zea-
land winter, when left to shift for himself, when all
possible care had scarcely helped his fellows to endure
the chills even of summer ?
After just touching at Nengone, the vessel went on
to Lifu, and on landing, the Bishop and Mr. Patteson
found a number of people ready to receive them, and
to conduct them to the village, where the chief and a
A A 2
356 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viil.
great number of people were drawn up in a half-circle
to receive them. The young chief, Angadhohua,
bowed and touched his hat, and taking Coley's
hand, held it, and whispered, ' We will always live
together,'
' By and by we will talk about it,' was the answer ;
and they were taken to a new house, belonging to one
of the Samoans, built of lath plastered and thatch, with
one large room and a lesser gne at each of its angles.
There the Bishop and Mr. Patteson sat on a chest, and
seventy or eighty men squatted on mats, John Cho
and the native teacher foremost. There was a five
minutes' pause. Lifu was not yet familiar to Coley,
who spoke it less well than he had spoken German,
and John Cho said to iiim : ' Shall I tell them what
you have said to me formerly ? '
He then explained that Mr. Patteson could only
offer them a visit of three or four months, and would
then have the charge of lads from ' dark isles.'
Silence again ; then Angadhohua asked : ' Cannot
you stop always ? '
* There are many difficulties which you cannot un-
derstand, which prevent me. Would you like me to
shut the door which God has opened to so many dark
lands ? '
' No, no ; but why not have the summer school here
as well as the winter ? '
* Because it does the lads good to see New Zea-
land, and because the Bishop, who knows better than
I do, thinks it right.'
' And cannot we have a missionary ? '
However, they were forced to content themselves
with all that could be granted to them, and it was
further explained that Mr. Patteson would not super-
sede the native teachers, nor assume the direction of
1858.] Conference at L 1/21 357
the Sunday services, only keep a school which any one
might join who liked. This was felt to be only right
in good faith to the London Mission, in order not to
make dire confusion if they should be able to fill up
the gap before the Church could.
After sleeping in the house, Patteson produced the
books that had been printed for them at St. John's.
' Would that you could have seen their delight ! About
two pages, indifferently printed, was all they had
hitherto. Now^ they saw thirty-two clearly printed
8vo pages of Bible History, sixteen of prayers,
rubrics, &c., eight of questions and answers. " You
see," said I, cunningly, " that we don't forget you
during these months that I can't live among you." '
They began reading at once, and crying, ' Excellent,
exactly right, the very thing.'
It was thought good that some one from Lifu should
join the Mission party and testify to their work, and on
the invitation, the chief Angadhohua, a bright youth of
seventeen, volunteered to go. It was an unexampled
thing that a chief should be permitted by his people
to leave them ; there was a public meeting about it, and
a good deal of excitement, but it ended in Cho, as
spokesman, coming forward with tears in his eyes,
saying : ' Yes, it is right he should go, but bring him
back soon. What shall we do ? '
Patteson laid his hand on the young chiefs shoulder,
answering : ' God can guard him by sea as on land,
and with His blessing we will bring him back safe to
you. Let some of the chiefs go with him to protect
him. I wilKvatch over him, but you may choose whom
you wdll to accompany him.'
So five chiefs were selected as a body-guard for the
young Angadhohua, who was prince of all the isle, but
358 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. Vlll.
on an insecure tenure, for the French, in New Caledonia,
were showing a manifest inclination to annex the
Loyalty group.
The heavily loaded boat had a perilous strife with
the surf before the ship was reached, and it was a very
rough passage to Anaiteum, where some goods had to
be left for Mr. Inglis, and he asked that four Fate
visitors mieht be taken home. This was done, and
Mr. Gordon was visited at Erromango on the way, and
found well and prosperous.
At Mai, the reception of Petere and Laure was
ecstatic. There was a crowd on shore to meet them,
and on the two miles' walk to the village parties met,
hugged, and wept over them. At the village Mr.
Patteson addressed the people for ten minutes, and
Petere made an animated exposition of what he had
learnt, and his speeches evidently had great effect. His
younger brother and two little boys all came in his
stead, and would form part of the winter school at
Lifu.
The Espiritu Santo boy, the dunce of the party, was
set down at home, and the Banks Islanders were again
found pleasant, honest, and courteous, thinking, as it ap-
peared afterwards, that the white men were the departed
spirits of deceased friends. A walk inland at Vanua
Lava disclosed pretty villages nestling under banyan
trees, one of them provided with a guest-chamber for
visitors from other islands. Two boys, Sarawia and
another, came away to be scholars at Lifu, as well
as his masters in the language, of which he as yet
scarcely knew anything, but which he afterwards found
the most serviceable of all these various dialects.
Tlie 26tli of May l^rought the vessel to Bauro, where
[K)or old Iri was told of the death of his son, and had
a long talk willi Mr. Patteson, beginning with, ' Do
1858.] Trial Stage at Bauro 359
you think I shall see him again ? ' It was a talk worth
having, though it was purchased by spending a night
in the house with the rats.
It seemed as though the time were come for calling
on the Baurese to cease to be passive, and sixty or
seventy men and women having come together, Mr.
Patteson told them that he did not mean to go on
merely taking their boys to return them with heaps of
fish-hooks and knives, but that, unless they cared for
good teaching, to make them good and happy here
and hereafter, he should not come like a trader or a
whaler. That their sons should go backwards and
forwards and learn, but to teach at home ; and that
they ought to build a holy house, where they might
meet to pray to God and learn His will.
Much of this was evidently distasteful, though they
agreed to build a room.
* I think,' he writes, ' that the trial stage of the work
has arrived. This has less to attract outwardly than
the first beginning of all, and as here they must take
a definite part, they (the great majority who are not
yet disposed to decide for good) are made manifest,
and the difficulty of displacing evil customs is more
apparent'
In fact, these amiable, docile Baurese seemed to have
little manliness or resolution of character, and Sumaro,
a scholar of 1857, was especially disappointing, for he
pretended to wish to come and learn at Lifu, but only
in order to get a passage to Gera, where he deserted,
and was well lectured for his deceit.
The Gera people were much more warlike and
turbulent, and seemed to have more substance in them,
though less apt at learning. Patteson spent the night
on shore at Perua, a subsidiary islet in the bay, sleeping
360 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
in a kind of shed, upon two boards, more comfortably
tlian was usual on these occasions. Showing confi-
dence was one great point, and the want of safe
anchorage in the bay was much regretted, because the
people could not understand why the vessel would not
come in, and thought it betokened mistrust. Many
lads wished to join the scholars, but of those who
were chosen, two were forced violently overboard by
their friends, and only two eventually remained, making
a total of twelve pupils for the winter school at Lifu,
wnth five languages between them — seven with the
addition of the Nengone and Lifu scholars.
' You see,' writes Coley on June 10, on the voyage, ' that
our difficulty is in training and organising natives,
raising them from heathenism to the life, morally and
socially, of a Christian. This is what I find so hard.
The communication of religious truth by word of
mouth is but a small part of the work. The real
difficulty is to do for them what parents do for
their children, assist them to — nay, almost force
upon them — the practical application of Christian
doctrine. This descends to the smallest matters,
washing, scrubbing, sweeping, all actions of personal
cleanliness, introducing method and order, habits of
industry, regularity, giving just notions of exchange,
barter, trade, management of criminals, division of
labour. To do all this and yet not interfere with
the offices of the chief, and to be the model and
pattern of it, who is sufficient for it ? '
On June 16, Mr. Patteson was landed at Lifu, for his
residence there, with the five chiefs, his twelve boys,
and was hospitably welcomed to the large new house
by the Samoan. I Ic and four boys slept in one of the
corner rooms, the other eight lads in another, the
1858.] Life i7i the Loyalty Isles 361
Rarotongan teacher, Tutoo, and his wife in a third.
The central room was parlour, school, and hall, and as
it had four unglazed windows, and two doors opposite
to each other, and the trade-wind always blowing, the
state of affairs after daylight was much like that which
prevailed in England when King Alfred invented
lanterns, while in the latter end of June the days were,
of course, as short as they could be on the tropic of
Capricorn, so that Patteson got up in the dark at
5.30 in the morning.
At 7 the people around dropped in for prayers,
which he thought it better not to conduct till his
position was more defined. Then came breakfast
upon yams cooked by being placed in a pit lined with
heated stones, with earth heaped over the top. Mr.
and Mrs. Tutoo, with their white guest, sat at the scrap
of a table, ' which, with a small stool, was the only
thing on four legs in the place, except an occasional
visitor in the shape of a pig.' Then followed school.
Two hundred Lifu people came, and it was necessary
to hold it in the chapel. One o'clock, dinner on yams,
and very rarely on pig or a fowl, baked or rather done
by the same process ; and in the afternoon some read-
ing and slatework with the twelve Melanesians, and
likewise some special instruction to a few of the more
promising Lifuites. At 6.30, another meal of yams,
but this time Patteson had recourse to his private store
of biscuit ; and the evening was spent in talk, till bed-
time at 9 or 9.30. It was a thorough sharing the
native life ; but after a few more experiments, it was
found that English strength could not be kept up on
an exclusive diet of yams, and the Loyalty Isles are
not fertile. They are nothing but rugged coral, in an
early stage of development ; great ridges, upheaved, bare
and broken, and here and there with pits that have
o
62 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. VIII.
become filled with soil enough to grow yams and
cocoa-nuts.
The yams — except those for five of the lads, whose
maintenance some of the inhabitants had undertaken
— Avere matter of purchase, and formed the means of
instruction in the rules of lawful exchange. A fixed
weight of yams were to constitute prepayment for a
pair of trousers, a piece of calico, a blanket, tomahawk,
or the like, and all this was agreed to, Cho being a
great assistance in explaining and dealing with his
people. But it proved very difficult to keep them up
to bringing a sufficient supply, and as they had a full
share of the universal spirit of higgling, the commissa-
riat was a very harassing and troublesome business,
and as to the boys, it was evident that the experiment
was not successful. Going to New Zealand was seeing
the world. Horses, cows, sheep, a town, soldiers,
&c., were to be seen there, whereas Lifu offered little
that they could not see at home, and schooling without
novelty was tedious. Indeed, the sight of civilised life,
the beinof taken to church, the kindness of the friends
around the College, were no slight engines in their
education ; but the Lifu people were not advanced
enough to serve as an example — except that they had
renounced the more horrible of their heathen habits.
They were in that unsettled state which is peculiarly
trying in the conversion of nations, when the old
authoritative customs have been overthrown, and the
Christian rules not established.
It was a good sign that the respect for the chief was
not diminished. One evening an English sailor (for
there turned out to be three whites on the island) who
was employed in the sandal-wood trade was in the
house conversing with Tutoo, when Angadhohua inter-
rupted him, and he — in ignorance of the youth's rank
.] Public Worship at Lifit 36
o
— pushed him aside out of the way. The excitement
was great. A few years previously the offender would
have been killed on the spot, and as it was, it was only
after apology and explanation of his ignorance that he
was allowed to go free ; but an escort was sent with him
to a place twenty miles off lest any one should endeavour
to avenge the insult, not knowing it had been forgiven.
Many of the customs of these Loyalty Isles are very
unhealthy, and the almost exclusive vegetable diet
produced a low habit of body, that showed itself in
all manner of scrofulous diseases, especially tumours,
under which the sufferer wasted and died. Much of
Patteson's time was taken up by applications from these
poor creatures, who fancied him sure to heal them,
and had hardly the power, certainly not the will, to
follow his advice.
Nor had he any authority. He only felt himself
there on sufferance till the promised deputation should
come from Rarotonga from the London Mission, to
decide whether the island should be reserved by them,
or yielded to the Church. Meantime he says on
Sunday : —
' Tutoo has had a pretty hard day's work of it, poor
fellow, and he is anything but strong. At 9.30 we
all went to the chapel, which began by a hymn sung
as roughly as possible, but having rather a fine effect
from the fact of some 400 or 500 voices all singing
in unison. Then a long extemporary prayer, then
another hymn, then a sermon nearly an hour long.
It ought not to have taken more than a quarter of
an hour, but it was delivered very slowly, with endless
repetitions, otherwise there was some order and
arrangement about it. Another hymn brought the
service to an end about 1 1 . But his work was not
364 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
done ; school instantly succeeded in the same building,
and though seven native teachers were working their
classes, the burthen of it fell on him. School was
concluded with a short extemporary prayer. At
three, service again — hymn, prayer, another long
sermon, hymn, and at last we were out of chapel,
there being no more school.'
' To be sure,' is the entry on another Sunday,
' little thought I of old that Sunday after Sunday
I should frequent an Independent chapel. As for
extemporary prayer not being a form, that is absurd.
These poor fellows just repeat their small stock
of words over and over again, and but that they
are evidently in earnest, it would seem shockingly
irreverent sometimes. Most extravagant expres-
sions ! Tutoo is a very simple, humble-minded man,
and I like him much. He would feel the help and
blessing of a Prayer-book, poor fellow, to be a guide
to him ; but even the Lord's Prayer is never heard
among them.'
So careful was Mr. Patteson not to offend the men
who had first worked on these islands, that on one
Sunday when Tutoo was ill, he merely gave a skeleton
of a sermon to John Cho to preach. On the 27th of
July, however, the deputation arrived in the ' John
Williams,' — two ministers, and Mr. Creagh on his way
back to Nengone, and the upshot of the conference
on board, after a dinner in the house of Apollo, the
native teacher, was that as they had no missionary
for Lifu, they made no objection to Mr. Patteson
working there at present, and that if in another year
they received no reinforcement from home, they would
take into consideration the making over thcnr teachers
to him. ' My position is thus far less anomalous, my
1858.] Preaching in Lifu 365
responsibility much increased. God will, I pray and
trust, strengthen me to help the people and build them
up in the faith of Christ.'
August 2. — Yesterday I preached my two first
Lifu sermons ; rather nervous, but I knew I had
command of the language enough to explain my
meaning, and I thought over the plan of my sermons
and selected texts. Fancy your worthy son stuck
up in a pulpit, without any mark of the clergyman
save white tie and black coat, commencing service
with a hymn, then reading the second chapter of
St. Matthew, quite new to them, then a prayer,
extemporary, but practically working in, I hope, the
principle and much of the actual language of the
Prayer-book — i.e. Confession, prayer for pardon, ex-
pression of belief and praise — then another hymn,
the sermon about forty minutes. Text : ' I am the
Way,' &c. Afternoon : ' Thy Word is a lantern unto
my feet.'
You can easily understand how it was simple
work to point out that a man lost his way by his
sin, and was sent out from dwelling with God ;
the recovery of the way by which we may again
return to Paradise is practically the one great event
which the whole Bible is concerned in teaching.
The subject admitted of any amount of illustration
and any amount of reference to the great facts of
Scripture history, and everything converges to the
Person of Christ. I wish them to see clearly the
great points — first, God's infinite love, and the great
facts by which He has manifested His Love from
the very first, till the coming of Christ exhibited
most clearly the infinite wisdom and love by which
man's return to Paradise has been effected.
Significant is that one word to the thief on the
o
66 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
Cross, ' Paradise.' The way open again ; the guardian
angel no longer standing with flaming sword in the
entrance ; admission to the Tree of Life.
The services were much shorter than usual, chiefly
because I don't stammer and bungle and take half an
hour to read twenty verses of the Bible, and also
because I discarded all the endless repetitions and
unmeaning phrases, which took up half the time of
their unmeaning harangues. About an hour sufficed
for the morning service ; the evening one might have
been a little longer. I feel quite at my ease while
preaching, and John told me it was all very clear ; but
the prayers — oh ! I did long for one of our Common
Prayer-books.
One effect of the Independent system began to reveal
itself strongly. How could definite doctrines be in-
stilled into the converts by teachers with hardly any
books, and no formula to commit to memory ? What
was the faith these good Samoans knew and taught ?
* No doctrinal belief exists among them,' writes
Coley, in the third month of his stay. ' A man for
years has been associated with those who are called
"the people that seek Baptism." He comes to
me :
' y. C. p. Who instituted baptism ?
' A. Jesus.
' y. C. P. And He sent His Apostles to baptize
in the Name of Whom ?
' Dead silence.
' " Why do you wish to be baptized ? "
' " To live."
' " All that Jesus has done for us, and given to us,
and taught us, is for that object. What is the
particular benefit we receive in baptism ? "
J 838.] Want of Positive Teaching 367
* No conception.
' Such is their state.
' I would not hesitate if I thought there was any
imphcit recognition of the doctrine of the Trinity ;
but I can't baptize people morally good who don't
know the Name into which they are to be baptized,
who can't tell me that Jesus is God and man. There is
a lad who soon must die of consumption, whom I
now daily examine. He has not a notion of any
• truth revealed from above, and to be embraced and
believed as truth upon the authority of God's Word.
A kind of vague morality is the substitute for the
Creed of the Apostles. What am I to do ? I did
speak out for three days consecutively pretty well,
but I am alone, and only here for four months, and
yet, I fear, I am expecting too much from them, and
that I ought to be content with something much less
as the (so to speak) qualifications ; but surely they
ought to repent and believe. To say the word, " I
believe," without a notion of w^hat they believe,
surely that won't do. They must be taught, and
then baptized, according to our Lord's command,
suited for adults.'
Constant private teaching to individuals was going
on, and the 250 copies of the Lifu primer were dis-
persed \vhere some thousands were wanted, and Mr.
Patteson wrote a little book of sixteen pages, containing
the statement of the outlines of the faith, and of
Scripture history ; but this could not be dispersed till it
had been printed in New Zealand.
And in the meantime a fresh element of perplexity
was arising. The French had been for some time past
occupying New Caledonia, and a bishop had been sent
thither about the same time as Bishop Selwyn had
o
68 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
gone to New Zealand ; but though an earnest and hard-
working man, he had never made much progress. He
had the misfortune of being connected in the people's
minds with French war ships and aggression, and,
moreover, the South Sea race seem to have a peculiar
distaste for the Roman Catholic branch of the Church,
for which it is not easy to account.
The Loyalty Isles, as lying so near to New Cale-
donia, were tempting to the French Empire, and the
Bishop at the same time felt it his duty to attempt
their conversion.
Some priests had been placed at the north end of the
island for about six months past, but the first communi-
cation was a letter on July 6, complaining, partly in
French, partly in English, that since Mr. Patteson's
arrival, the people had been making threatening re-
ports.
Now Mr. Patteson had from the first warned them
against showing any unkindness to the French priests,
and he wrote a letter of explanation, and arranged to
go and hold a conference. On the way, while supping
with the English sailor, at the village where he was
to sleep, he heard a noise, and found that the French-
man, Pere Montrouzier, had arrived. He was appa-
rently about forty ; intelligent, very experienced in
mission work, and conversant with the habits and
customs of French and English in the colonies ;
moreover, with plenty of firmness in putting forward
his cause. He seems to have been supported by the
State in a manner unusual with French missions.
I had one point only that I was determined to
press (Patteson says), namely, liberty to the people
to follow any form of religion they might choose to
adopt. I knew that they and I were completely in
his power, yet that my line was to assume that we
1858.] The French Mission 369
were now about to arrange our plans for the future
independently of any interference from the civil
power.
He let me see that he knew he could force upon
the Lifu people whatever he pleased, the French
Government having promised him any number of
soldiers he may send for to take possession, if neces-
sary, of the island. They have 1,000 men in New
Caledonia, steamers and frigates of war ; and he
told me plainly that this island and Nengone are
considered as natural appendages of New Caledonia,
and practically French possessions already, so that,
of course, to attempt doing more than secure for the
people a religious liberty is out of the question. He
promised me that if the people behaved properly to
him and his people, he would not send for the
soldiers, nor would he do anything to interfere with
the existing state of the island.
He will not himself remain here long, being com-
missioned, in consequence of his fourteen years'
experience, to prepare the way for the French
mission here. He told me that twenty missionaries
are coming out for this group, about seven or
eight of whom will be placed on Lifu, others on
Nengone, &c. ; that the French Government is deter-
mined to support them ; that the Commandant of
Nimia in New Caledonia had sent word to him that
any number of men should be sent to him at an
instant's notice, in a war steamer, to do what he
might wish in Lifu, but that honestly he would do
nothing to compel the people here to embrace Ro-
manism ; but that if necessary he would use force
to establish the missionaries in houses in different
parts of the island, if the chiefs refused to sell them
parcels of land, for instance, one acre. The captain
I. . B B
370 Life of Jolui Coleridge Pattesou [ch. viii.
of the ' Iris,' an English frigate, called on him on
Monday, and sent me a letter by him, making it
quite clear that the French will meet with no oppo-
sition from the English Government. He too knew
this, and of course knew his power ; but he behaved,
I must say, well, and if he is really sincere about
the liberty of religion question, I must be satisfied
with the result of our talk. I was much tired. We
slept together on a kind of bed in an unfurnished
house, where I was so cold that I could not sleep ;
besides, my head ached much ; so my night was not a
very pleasant one. In the morning we resumed our
talk, but the business was over really. The question
that we had discussed the evening before was brought
to an issue, however, by his requiring from John Cho,
who was with us, permission to buy about an acre of
land in his territory. John was much staggered at
this. It looked to him like a surrender of his rights.
I told him, at great length, why I thought he must
consent ; but finally it was settled, that as John is not
the real chief, I should act as interpreter for the
Frenchmen ; and send him from Mu an answer to
a letter which he addresses to me, but which is, in
fact, intended for the chief.
It is, I suppose, true, that civilised nations do not
acknowledge the right of a chief to prevent any one
of his subjects from selling a plot of his land to a
foreigner unless they may be at war with that parti-
cular nation.
He said that France would not allow a savage
chief to say, ' My custom in this respect is different
from yours ;' and again, ' This is not a taking posses-
sion. It is merely requiring the right to put up a
cottage for which I pay the just price.' He told me
plainly, if the chiefs did not allow him to do so,
1858.] Prospects for Lific 371
he would send for soldiers and put it up by force ;
but not use the soldiers for any other purpose. Of
course I shall relate all this to Angadhohua at Mu,
and make them consent.
He told me that at New Caledonia they had re-
served inalienably one tenth of the land for the
natives, that the rest would be sold to French
colonists of the poor class, no one possessing more
than ten acres ; that 5,000 convicts would be sent
there, and the ticket-of-leave system adopted, and
that he thought the worst and most incorrigible
characters would be sent to Lifu. Poor John !
But I can't help him ; he must make such terms as
he can, for he and his people are wholly in their
power.
Our talk being ended, I found a great circle of
men assembled on the outside with a pile of yams
as usual in the centre for me. I was glad to see a
small pile also for the Frenchman. I made my
speech in his presence, but he knows not Lifu.
* Be kind to the French, give them food and
lodging. This is a duty which you are bound to
pay to all men ; but if they try to persuade you
to change the teaching which you have received,
don't listen to them. Who taught you to leave
off war and evil habits, to build chapels, to pray ?
Remember that. Trust the teachers who have
taught you the word of God. '
This was the kind of thing I said. Then off we
set — two miles of loose sand at a rattling pace, as
I wanted to shake off some 200 people who were
crowding about me. Then turning to the west,
climbed some coral rocks very quickly, and found
myself with only half my own attendants, and no
strangers. Sat down, drank a cocoa-nut, and waited
B B 2
372 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vili.
a long time for John, who can't walk well, and then
quietly went on the remaining eight or nine miles to
Zebedee's place, a Samoan teacher. They were
very attentive, and gave me some supper. They
had a bed, which was of course given up to me in
spite of opposition. They regard a missionary as
something superhuman almost. Sometimes I can't
make them eat and drink with me ; they think it
would be presumptuous. Large meeting of people
in the afternoon, and again the following morning,
to whom I said much what I had already said at
We. Then fifteen miles over to Apollo's place on
the west coast, a grand bay, with perfectly calm
water, delicious in the winter months. Comfortable
quarters ; Apollo a cleverish, free-spoken fellow.
I went, on the same afternoon, two miles of very
bad road to visit the French priest, who is living
here. More talk and of a very friendly nature.
He has been eighteen months at San Cristoval,
but knows not the language ; at Woodlark Island,
New Caledonia, &c. We talked in French and
English. He knows English fairly, but preferred to
talk French. This day's work was nineteen miles.
Slept at Apollo's. Next morning went a little
way in canoes, and walked six miles to Toma's
place ; meeting held, speech as usual, present of
yams, pig, &c. Walked back the six miles, started
in double canoe for Gaicha, the other side of the
bay ; wind foul, some difficulty in getting ashore.
Walked by the bad path to Apollo's and slept there
again ; Frenchman came in during the evening.
Next day, Friday, meeting in the chapel. Walked
twenty miles back to We, where I am now writing.
Went the twenty miles with no socks ; feet sore and
shoes worn to pieces, cutting off leather as I came
1858.] Coral Paths 373
along. Nothing but broken bottles equals jagged
coral. Paths went so that you never take three
steps in the same direction, and every minute trip
against logs, coral hidden by long leaves, and weeds
trailing over the path. Often for half a mile you
jump from one bit of coral to another. No shoes
can stand it, and I was tired, I assure you ! Indeed,
for the last two days, if I stopped for a minute to
drink a nut, my legs were so stiff that they did not
get into play for five minutes or so.
July j6f/L — The captain of the 'Iris' frigate
passing Lifu dropped me a line which satisfied me
that the French will meet with no impediment from
the English Government in the prosecution of their
plans out here. Well, this makes one's own path
just as easy, because all these things, great and small,
are ordered for us, but yet I grieve to think that we
might be occupying these groups with missionaries.
Even ten good men would do for a few years ; and
is it unreasonable to think that ten men might be
found willing to engage in such a happy work in
such a beautiful part of the world — no yellow fever,
no snakes, &c. ? I think of the Banks Islands, Vanua
Lava with its harbour and streams, and abundance
of food, and with eight or nine small islands round
it, speaking the same language, few dialectic differ-
ences of consequence, as I believe.
Even one good man might introduce religion here
as we have received it, pure and undefiled. Oh !
that there were men who could believe this, and
come out unconditionally, placing themselves in
the Bishop's hands unreservedly. He must know
the wants and circumstances of the islands far better
than they can, and therefore no man ought to stipu-
late as to his location, &c. Did the early teachers
374 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
do so ? Did Titus ever think of saying to St. Paul,
' Mind I must be an elder, or bishop, or whatever
he was, of Crete ' ? Just as if that frame of mind was
compatible with a real desire to do what little one
can by God's help to bring the heathen to a know-
ledge of Christ.
At this moment, one man for the Banks group
and another for Mai and the neighbouring islands
would be invaluable. If anything occurs to make
me leave these Loyalty Islands as my residence
during a part of the year, I am off to Banks, or Mai,
or Solomon Isles. But what am I ? In many
respects not so well qualified for the work as many
men who yet, perhaps, have had a less complete
education. I know nothing of mechanics, and can't
teach common things ; I am not apt to teach anything,
I fear, having so long deferred to learn the art of
teaching; but of course exposing one's own short-
comings is easy enough. How to get the right sort
of men ? First qualification is common-sense, guided,
of course, by religious principle. Some aptitude for
languages, but that is of so little consequence that I
would almost say no one was sufficient by itself as a
qualification. Of course the mission work tends
immensely to improve all earnest men ; the eccen-
tricities and superfluities disappear by degrees as the
necessary work approves itself to the affection and
intellect.
The French question resulted in a reply in Angad-
hohua's name, that the people should be permitted to
sell ground where the mission required it ; and that
in the one place specified about which there was
contention, the land should be ceded as a gift from the
chiefs. ' This,' observes Mr. Patteson, ' is the first
1858.] Misunderstandings in the Negociation 375
negotiation which has been thrust upon me. I more
than suspect I have made considerable blunders.'
By the 13th of August, he had to walk over the coral
jags for another consultation with Pere Montrouzier,
whose negotitation with Cho had resulted in thorough
misunderstandincr, each thinkino: the other was deceiv-
ing him, and not dealing according to promise to Mr.
Patteson. The Pere had, in his fourteen years' ex-
perience, imbibed a great distrust of the natives, and
thought Mr. Patteson placed too much confidence in
them, while the latter thought him inclined to err the
other way ; however, matters were accommodated, at
heavy cost to poor Coley's feet. A second pair of
shoes were entirely cut to pieces, and he could not put
any on the next day, his feet were so blistered.
The troubles were not ended, for when the ground
was granted, there followed a stipulation that the chiefs
should not hinder the men from working at the building ;
and when the men would not work, the chiefs were
suspected of preventing it, and a note from Pere
Montrouzier greatly wounded Patteson's feelings by
calling John Q\\o fmix et artijicieiix.
However, after another note, he retracted this, and a
day or two after came the ninety miles over the coral
to make a visit to the English clergyman. ' There is
much to like in him : a gentleman, thoroughly well
informed, anxious of course to discuss controversial
points, and uncommonly well suited for that kind of
work ; he puts his case well and clearly, and, of course,
it is easy to make their system appear most admira-
bly adapted for carrying out all the different duties
of a Church, as it is consistent in all, or nearly
all, particulars, ^zW;^ the one or tzuo leading points on
zvhich all depend. The Church of England here is
376 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vili.
very much in the position of any one of those other
bodies, Wesleyan, Independent, or Presbyterian ; and
though we have a Bishop at the head — of what,
however ? Of one individual clergyman ! Oh, that
we had now a good working force — twenty or thirty
men with some stuff in them ; and there are plenty if
they would only come. Meanwhile, France sends
plenty of men ; steamers bring them houses, cows for
themselves and as presents for natives — supports the
missionary in every way. New Caledonia is handy
for the central school, everything almost that can be
requisite. Never mind; work on, one small life is a
mighty trifling thing considered with reference to
those great schemes overruled by God to bring out
of them great ultimate good, no doubt.'
There was an interchange of books between the
French and English priest. Pere Montrouzier lent,
and finally gave, Martinet's ' Sohition de Grands Pro-
blhnes' which Patteson calls 'a very interesting book,
with a great deal of dry humour about it, not unlike
Newman's more recent publications. " It is," he
(Montrouzier) says, "thought very highly of in
France." He is a well-read man, I should imagine,
in his line ; and that is pretty extensive, for he is a
really scientific naturalist, something of a geologist,
a good botanist, besides having a good acquaintance
with ecclesiastical literature.'
There was the more time for recreation with the
Pere's French books, and the serious work of translat-
ing St. Mark's Gospel and part of the Litany into
Lifu, as the inhabitants were all called off from school
in the middle of August ' by a whale being washed
ashore over a barrier reef — not far from me. All
the adjacent population turned out in grass kilts, with
1858.] A Whale on Shore 377
knives and tomahawks to hack off chunks of flesh to
be eaten, and of blubber to be boiled Into oil ; and in
the meantime the neighbourhood was by no means
agreeable to anyone possessing a nose.'
Meanwhile Sarawia, the best of the Banks pupils,
had a swelling on the knee, and required care and
treatment, but soon got better. Medical knowledge, as
usual, Patteson felt one of the great needs of missionary
life. Cases of consumption and scrofula were often
brought to him, and terrible abscesses, under which the
whole body wasted away. ' Poor people,' he writes,
' a consumptive hospital looms in the far perspective
of my mind ; a necessary accompaniment, I feel now,
of the church and the school in early times. I
wish I could contrive some remedy for the dry food,
everything being placed between leaves and being
baked on the ground, losing all the gravy ; and
when you get a chicken it is a collection of dry
strings. If I could manage boiling ; but there is
nothing like a bit of iron for fire-place on the
island, and to keep up the wood fire in the bush
under the saucepan is hard work. I must commence
a more practical study than hitherto of " Robinson
Crusoe," and the " Swiss Family." Why does no
missionary put down hints on the subject ? My
three months here will teach me more than anything
that has happened to me, and I dare say I shall get
together the thinofs I want most when next I set forth
from New Zealand. ... I find it a good plan to
look on from short periods to short periods, and
always ask, what next ? And at last it brings one
to the real answer : — Work as hard as you can, and
that rest which lacks no ingredient of perfect enjoy-
ment and peace will come at last.'
^yS Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viil.
Among the needs he discovered was this : — By the
by, good cheap Bible prints would be very useful ;
large so as to be seen by a large class, illustrating
just the leading ideas. Schnorr's Bible prints by
Rose and Bingen are something of the kind that
I mean, something quite rude will do. Twenty-four
subjects, comprising nothing either conventional or
symbolical, would be an endless treasure for teach-
ers ; the intervening history would be filled up and
illustrated by smaller pictures, but these would be
pegs on which to hang the great events these lads
ought to know. Each should be at least twenty-four
inches by ten.
Try to remember, in the choice of any other
picture books for them, that anything that intro-
duces European customs is no use yet. Pictures
of animals are the best thino^s. One or two of a
railway, a great bridge, a view of the Thames with
steamers rushing up and down, would all do ; but
all our habits of social life are so strange that they
don't interest them yet.
When I next reach Auckland, I suppose my eyes
will rejoice at seeing your dear old likenesses. When
w^e build our permanent central school-house at
Kohimarama, I shall try to get a little snuggery, and
then furnish it with a few things comfortably ; I shall
then invest in a chest of drawers, as I dare say my
clothes are getting tired of living in boxes since
March, 1855.
I can hardly tell you how much I regret not
knowing something about the treatment of simple
surgical cases. If when with W I had studied
the practical — bled, drawn teeth, mixed medicines,
rolled legs perpetually, it would have been worth
something. Surely I might have foreseen all this !
58.] Need of Mechanical Skill 379
really don't know how to find the tunc or the
opportunity for learning. How true it is that men
require to be trained for their particular work ! I am
now just in a position to know what to learn were I
once more in England. Spend one day with old
Fry (mason), another with John Venn (carpenter),
and two every week at the Exeter hospital, and not
look on and see others work — there's the mischief,
do it oneself. Make a chair, a table, a box ; fit
everything ; help in every part of making and fur-
nishing a house, that is, a cottage. Do enough of
every part to be able to do the whole. Begin by
felling a tree ; saw it into planks, mix the lime, see
the right proportion of sand, &c., know how to
choose a good lot of timber, fit handles for tools, &c.
Many trades need not be attempted ; but every
missionary ought to be a capenter, a mason, some-
thing of a butcher, and a good deal of a cook.
Suppose yourself without a servant, and nothing for
dinner to-morrow but some potatoes in the barn, and
a fowl running about in the yard. That's the kind
of thing for a young fellow going into a new country
to imagine to himself. If a little knowledgie of
glazing could be added, it would be a grand thing,
just enough to fit in panes to window-frames, which
last, of course, he ought to make himself. Much of
this cannot be done for you. I can buy window-
frames in Auckland and glass ; but I can't carry a
man a thousand miles in my pocket to put that
glass into these frames ; and if it is done in New
Zealand, ten to one it gets broken on the voyage ;
whereas, glass by itself will pack well. Besides, a
pane gets broken, and then I am in a nice fix. To
know how to tinker a bit is a good thing ; else your
only saucepan or tea-kettle may be lying by you
380 Life of John Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. viii,
useless for months, In fact, if had I known all this
before, I should be just ten times as useful as I am
now. If anyone you know thinks of emigrating or
becoming a missionary, just let him remember
this.
To these humble requisites, it appears that a
missionary ought on occasion to be able to add those
of a prime minister and lawgiver. Angadhohua, a
bright, clever lad, only too easily led, was to be in-
structed in the duties of a chief; Mr. Patteson scru-
pulously trying in vain to make him understand that
he was a person of far more consideration and respon-
sibility than his white visitor would be in his own
country. The point was to bring the Christian faith
into connection with life and government. ' Much
talk have I had with John in order that we may try
to put before them the true grounds on which
they ought to embrace Christianity,' writes Mr. Pat-
teson, when about to visit a heathen district which
had shown an inclination to abandon their old
customs, ' and also the consequences to which they
pledge themselves by the profession of a religion
requiring purity, regularity, industry, &c., but I have
little doubt that our visit now will result in the no-
minal profession of Christianity by many heathen.
Angadhohua, John, and I go together, and Isaka, a
Samoan teacher who has been a good deal among
them. I shall make an arrangement for taking one
of their leading men to New Zealand with me, that
he may get some notion of what is meant by under-
taking to become a Christian. It is in many respects
a great benefit to be driven back upon the very first
origin of a Christian society, one sees more than
ever t]i(^ iK^cessity of what our Lord has provided,
1858.] Christianity and Social Life 381
a living organised community into which the baptised
convert being introduced falls into his place, as it
were, naturally ; sees around him everything at all
times to remind him that he is a regenerate man,
that all things are become new. A man in apo-
stolic times had the lessons of the Apostles and
disciples practically illustrated in the life of those
with whom he associated. The church was an
expression of the verbal teaching committed to its
ministers. How clearly the beauty of this comes
out when one is forced to feel the horrible blank
occasioned by the absence of the living teacher,
influencing, moulding, building up each individual
professor of Christianity by a process always going
on, though oftentimes unconsciously to him on whom
it operates.
* But how is the social life to be fashioned here in
Lifu accordino- to the rule of Christ ? There is no
organised body exemplifying in daily actions the
teaching of the Bible. A man goes to chapel and
hears something most vague and unmeaning. He
has never been taught to grasp anything distinctly
— to represent any truth to his mind as a settled
resting-place for his faith. Who is to teach him ?
What does he see around him to make him im-
perceptibly acquire new habits in conformity with
the Bible ? Is the Christian community distinguished
by any habits of social order and intercourse different
from non-Christians ?
* True, they don't fight and eat one another now,
but beyond that are they elevated as men ? The
same dirt, the same houses, the same idle vicious
habits ; in most cases no sense of decency, or but
very little. Where is the expression of the Scrip-
tural life ? Is it not a most lamentable state of
382 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [c h. v 1 1 1 .
things ? And whence has it arisen ? From not
connecting Christian teaching in church with the
improvement in social Hfe in the hut and village,
which is the necessary corollary and complement of
such teaching.
' By God's grace, I trust that some little simple
books in Lifu will soon be in their houses, which
may be useful. It is even a cause for thankfulness
that in a few days (for the " Southern Cross " ought
to be here in a week with 500 more copies) some
600 or more copies in large type, of the Lord's
Prayer, Creed, and Ten Commandments will be in
circulation ; but they won't use them yet. They
won't be taught to learn them by heart, and be ques-
tioned upon them ; yet they may follow by and by.
Hope on is the rule. Give them the Bible is the
cry ; but you must give them the forms of faith and
prayer which Christendom has accepted, to guide
them ; and oh ! that we were so united that we
could baptize them into a real living exemplifica-
tion, and expression — an embodiment of Christian
truth, walking, sleeping, eating and drinking before
their eyes. Christ Himself was that on earth, and
His Church ought to be now. These men saw, to
accept His teaching was to bind themselves to a
certain course of life which was exhibited before
their own eyes. Hence, multitudes approved His
teaching, but would not accept it — would not profess
it, because they saw what was involved in that pro-
fession. But now men don't count the cost ; they
forget that " If any man come to Me " is followed
by " Which of you intending to build a tower," &c.
Hence the great and exceeding difficulty in these
latter days when Christianity is popular ! '
1858.] Delay in Li fit 38
0^0
In this state of things it was impossible to baptize
adults till they had come to a much clearer understand-
ing of what a Christian ought to do and to believe ; and
therefore Coley's only christenings in Lifu were of a
few dying children, whom he named after his brother
and sisters, as he baptised them with water, brought in
cocoa-nut shells, having taught himself to say by heart
his own translation of the baptismal form.
He wrote the following letter towards the end of
his stay : —
September 6, 1858 : Lifu, Loyalty Islands.
My dear Miss Neill, — The delay of four or five days
in the arrival of the ' Southern Cross ' gives me a
chance of writing you a line. The Bishop dropped
me here this day three months, and told me to look
out for him on September i. As New Zealand is
],ooo miles off, and he can't command winds and
waves, of course I allow him a wide margin ; and I
begged him not to hurry over any important busi-
ness in New Zealand in order to keep his appoint-
ment exactly. But his wont Is to be very punctual.
I have here twelve lads from the north-west islands :
from seven islands, speaking six languages. The
plan of bringing them to a winter school in some
tropical isle is now being tried. The only difficulty
here is that Lifu is so large and populous ; and just
now (what with French priests on it, and the most
misty vague kind of teaching from Independents,
the only thing to oppose to the complete machinery
of the Romish system,) demands so much time, that
it is difficult to do justice to one's lads from the
distant lands that are livinof with one here. The
Bishop had an exaggerated notion of the population
here. I imagine it to be somewhere about 8,000.
The language is not very hard, but has quite enough
384 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vill.
difficulty to make it more than a play-thing. The
people in that state when they venerate a missionary
— a very dangerous state ; I do my best to turn the
reverence into the right channel and towards its
proper object.
You will see by the last Melanesian report of
which I desired a copy to be sent to you, that our
work is very rapidly increasing ; that openings are
being made in all directions ; and that had we men
of trust, we could occupy them at once. As it is,
we keep up a communication with some seventy-four
islands, waiting, if it may be, that men may be sent,
trying to educate picked men to be teachers ; but I
am not very sanguine about that. At all events,
the first flush of savage customs, &c., is being, I trust,
removed, so that for some other body of Christians,
if not the Church of England, the door may be laid
open.
Of course, the interest of the work is becoming
more and more absorbing ; so that, much as there is
indeed going on in your world to distract and grieve
one, it comes to me so weakened by time and
distance that I don't sympathise as I ought with
those who are suffering so dreadfully from the
Indian Mutiny, or the commercial failure, or the
great excitement and agitation of the country. You
can understand how this can be, perhaps ; for my
actual present work leaves me small leisure for re-
flecting, and for placing myself in the position of
others at a distance ; and when I have a moment's
time surely it is right that I should be in heart
at Feniton, with those dear ones, and especially
my dear dear father, of whom I have not heard
for five months, so that I am very anxious as
to what account of him the ' Southern Cross ' may
iSjS.j Illness in a South Sea Hut 385
bring, and try to prepare myself for news of increased
illness, &c.
You, I imagine, my dear Miss Neill, are not much
changed to those who see you day by day ; but I
should find you much weaker in body than when I
saw you last, and yet it did not seem then as if you
had much strength to lose ; I don't hear of any
sudden changes, or any forms of illness ; the gradual
exhausting process is going on, but accompanied, I
fear, with even greater active pain than of old ; your
sufferings are indeed very severe and very pro-
tracted, a great lesson to us all. Yet you have
much, even speaking only of worldly comfort, which
makes your position a much happier one than that
of the poor suffering souls whom I see here. Their
house is one round room, a log burning in the
centre, no chimney, the room full of smoke, common
receptacle of men, women, boys, girls, pigs, and
fowls. In the corner a dying woman or child. No
water in the island that is fresh, a few holes in
the coral where water accumulates, more or less
brackish ; no cleanliness, no quiet, no cool fresh air,
hot smoky atmosphere, no proper food, a dry bit of
yam, and no knowledge of a life to come: such is
the picture of the invalided or dying South Sea
Islander. All dying children under years of dis-
cretion I baptize, and all the infants brought to the
chapel by parents who themselves are seeking
baptism ; but I have not baptized any adults yet,
they must be examined and taught for some time,
for the Samoan and Rarotongan teachers sent by
the Independent missionaries are very imperfectly
instructed and quite incapable of conveying definite
teaching to them.
I don't see, humanly speaking, how this island is
I. c c
386 Life of JoJm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
to be kept from becoming purely Roman Catholic.
They have a large staff of men, and are backed up
by the presence of a complete government establish-
ment in New Caledonia, only two or three days
distant, while what have we ? Four months a year
of the time, partially otherwise occupied by Mela-
nesian schools, of one missionary, and while here
these four months, I have my lads from many
islands to teach, so that I can't lay myself out to
learn this one language, &c. I am writing this on
September 16. ' Southern Cross' not yet come, and
my lads very anxious ; I confess I should like to see
it, not only (as you will believe) because all my
stores are gone. I have not a morsel of biscuit or
ofrain of suear left, and am reduced to native fare,
which does not suit my English constitution for very
lonof. Yams and taro, and a fowl now and then,
will be my food until the ship comes. Hitherto I
have had coffee and biscuits in addition.
My very kind love to Mrs. S , and many
thanks for the letters, which I much enjoy.
Your very affectionate old pupil,
J. C. P.
The whole of September passed without the arrival
of the ' Southern Cross.' The fact was that after
Mr. Patteson had been left at Lifu, the vessel when
entering Port-au-France, New Caledonia, had come
upon a coral reef, and the damage done to her
sheathing was so serious that though she returned to
Auckland from that trip, she could not sail again
without fresh coppering ; and as copper had to be
brought from Sydney for the purpose, there was
considerable delay before she could set forth again, so
that it was not till the last day of September that she
1858.] Close Packing 387
gladdened Patteson's eyes and brought the long-desired
tidings from home.
This voyage was necessarily short, as there were
appointments to be kept by the Bishop in New
Zealand in November, and all that could be aimed at
was the touching at the more familiar islands for fresh
instalments of scholars. The grand comet of 1858
was one feature of this expedition — which resulted in
bringing home forty-seven Melanesians, two being old
Bauro scholars ; while from the Loyalty Isles came
John Cho, his wife and child, her newly-married sister
with her husband, and five more Lifu men, Frank from
Toke, also Simeona, Carry and their child, Wadrokala,
and several more from Nengone. With the crew, there
were sixty-three souls on board during the homeward
voyage !
As you may suppose, the little ' Southern Cross ' is
cram full, but the Bishop's excellent arrangements
in the construction of the vessel for securing venti-
lation, preserve us from harm by God's blessing.
Every day a thorough cleaning and sweeping goes
on, and frequent washing, and as all beds turn up
like the flap of a table, and some thirty lads sleep
on the floor on mats and blankets, by 7 a.m. all traces
of the night arrangements have vanished. The
cabin looks and feels airy ; meals go on regularly ;
the boys living chiefly on yams, puddings and cocoa-
nuts, and plenty of excellent biscuit. We laid in so
many cocoa-nuts that they have daily one apiece, a
great treat to them. A vessel of this size, unless
arranged with special reference to such objects, could
not carry safely so large a party, but we have no-
thing on board to create, conceal or accumulate dirt ;
no hold, no storeroom, no place where a mixed mess
CO 2
388 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vill.
of spilt flour, and sugar, and treacle, and old rotten
potatoes, and cocoa-nut parings and bits of candle,
can all be washed together into a dark foul hold ;
hence the whole ship, fore and aft, is sweet and clean.
Stores are kept in zinc lockers puttied down, and in
cedar boxes lined with zinc. We of course distribute
them ourselves ; a hired steward would be fatal,
because you can't get a servant to see the importance
of care in such details.
Mr. Dudley thus sums up the stay at Lifu.
Although the first part of the time was very easy,
there being only the few scholars who were left with
him at the winter school, before long all his energies
were taxed, physical and mental. When the ' John
Williams ' arrived, in order to meet the deputation of
missionaries, and settle matters with them before he
sailed again, he started off and walked night and day
a journey of thirty-eight miles, across a country the
greater part of which was little better than a bare
coral reef, sharp to a degree, and progress over which
was less walking than jumping from crag to crag.
As he came in at the end of his journey, he kicked
the sole fairly finally off one of the new English
shoes he had started in. He had also a delicate
negotiation to conduct with the French Abbe
stationed at the other end of the island, but he did
succeed in clearing the character of John Cho, his
friend, as he called him, throughout his discussion
with the priest, and in preventing any such disaster
as the threatened banishment of him to Tahiti.
Mr. Patteson always, in the most careful manner,
paid respect both to the chief's person and his dicta.
He declined more than once to give directions which
he said ought to issue from the chief, although on one
1858.] Respect to the Chiefs 389
of these occasions he was asked by the chief himself.
He foresaw clearly the evils that might follow if
the people's respect for recognised authority were
weakened, instead of being, as it might be, turned to
useful account. And so he always accorded to John
Cho, and to other persons of rank when they were
with us in the Mission school, just such respect as
they were accustomed to receive at the hands of their
own people. For instance, he would always use to a
moderate extent the chief's language in addressing
John Cho or any other of the Loyalty chiefs ; and
it being a rule of theirs that no one in the presence
of the chiefs should ever presume to sit down higher
than the chiefs, he would always make a point of
attendinof to it as regarded himself ; and once or twice
when, on shore in the islands, the chief had chosen to
squat down on the ground among the people, he
would jocularly leave the seat that had been provided
for him, and place himself by the chief's side on the
ground. All this was keenly appreciated as signifi-
cant, but alas ! the Loyalty Islanders were not long
to remain under his charge.
The ensuing letter was written to Sir John Taylor
Coleridge, after learning the tidings of his retirement
from the Bench in the packet of intelligence brought
by the vessel : —
November lo, 1858 : Lat. 31° 29' S. ; Long. 171° 12' E.
My dear Uncle John, — I see by the papers that you
have actually resigned, and keep your connection
with the judges only as a Privy Councillor. I am
of course on my own account heartily glad that
you will be near my dear father for so many months
of the year, and you are very little likely to miss
your old occupation much, with your study at
390 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viil.
Heath's Court, so I shall often think of you in summer
sitting out on the lawn, by John's Pinus excelsa^
and in winter in your armchair by the fire, and no
doubt you will often find your way over to Feniton.
And then you have a glorious church ! . . . Oh ! I
do lonor for a venerable buildino^ and for the sound of
ancient chants and psalms. At times, the Sunday
is specially a day on which my mind tvill go back
to the old country, but never with any wish to
return. I have never experienced that desire, and
think nothing but absolute inability to help on a
Melanesian or a Maori will ever make a change in
that respect. I feel as certain as I can be of any-
thing that I should not be half as happy in England
as I am in New Zealand, or in Lifu, in the Banks
or Solomon Islands, &c. I like the life and the
people, everything about it and them. . . .
Coppering the schooner caused delay, so that he
(the Bishop) could give but two months instead of
three to the Island voyage, for he starts on November
25 for a three months' Confirmation tour (1,000
miles) among the New Zealanders, which will bring
him to Wellington by March i, for the commence-
ment of the first synod. Consequently we have only
revisited some of our seventy and odd islands, but
we have no less than forty-seven Melanesians from
twelve islands on board, of whom three are young
married women, while two are babies.
This makes our whole number on board sixty,
viz., four Pitcairners + forty-teven Melanesians -t-
selves 4- crew = sixty-three, a number too great for
so small a vessel, but for the excellent plan adopted
by the Bishop in the internal arrangement of the
vessel wlien slie was built, and the scrupulous atten-
tion to cleanliness in every place fore and aft. As
1858.] Accommodation at Sea 391
it is, we are not only healthy l3iit comfortable, able
to have all meals regularly, school, prayers, just as
if we had but twenty on board. Nevertheless, I
think, if you could drop suddenly on our lower deck
at 9 P.M. and visit unbeknown to us the two cabins,
you would be rather surprised at the number of the
sleepers — twelve in our after-cabin, and forty-five in
the larger one, which occupies two-thirds of the
vessel.
Of course we make no invasion upon the quarters
forward of the four men before the mast— common
seamen, and take good care that master and mate
shall have proper accommodation.
One gets so used to this sort of thing that I sleep
just as well as I used to do in my own room at home,
and by 6.30 or 7 a.m. all vestiges of anything- con-
nected with sleeping arrangements have vanished,
and the cabins look like what they are, — large and
roomy. We have, you know, no separate cabins
filled with bunks, &c., abominations specially con-
trived to conceal dirt and prevent ventilation.
Light calico curtains answer all purposes of dividing
off a cabin into compartments, but we agree to live
together, and no one has found it unpleasant as yet.
We turn a part of our cabin into a yuva/^csl'ov at night
for the three women and two babies by means of a
canvas screen. Bishop looks after them, washes the
babies, tends the women when sick, &c., while I, by
virtue of being a bachelor, shirk all the trouble. One
of these women is now coming for the second time
to the college ; her name is Carry. Margaret Cho is
on her second visit, and Hrarore is the young bride
of Kapua, now coming for his third time, and
baptized last year.
We wish to make both husbands and wives
392 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
capable of imparting better notions to their people.
We have, I think, a very nice set on board. . . .
I think everything points to Vanua Lava, the
principal island of the Banks group, becoming our
centre of operations, i.e., that it would be the place
where winter school would be carried on with natives
from many islands, from Solomon Islands groups to
the north-west, and Santa Cruz group to north, New
Hebrides to south, and Loyalty Islands south-west,
and also the depot among the islands, a splendid
harbour, safe both from trade and hurricane winds,
plenty of water, abundantly supplied with provisions,
being indeed like a hot-house, with its hot springs
constantly sending up clouds of vapour on the high
hills, a population wholly uninjured by intercourse
with traders and whalers, it being certain that our
vessel was the first at all events that has ever been
seen by the eyes of any member of this generation on
the islands ; I could prove this to you easily if I had
time.
They are most simple, gentle and docile, unwarlike,
not cannibals, I verily believe as good a specimen of
the natural fallen man as can be met with, wholly
naked, yet with no sense of shame in consequence ;
timid, yet soon learning to confide in one ; intelligent,
and gleaming with plenty of spirit and fun. As the
island, though 440 miles north of the Loyalty Isles,
is not to leeward of them, it would only take us about
eight days more to run down, and a week more to
return to it from New Zealand, than would be the
case if we had our winter school on one of the
Loyalty Islands. So I hope now we may get a
missionary for Lifu, and so I may be free to spend all
my time, when not in New Zealand, at Vanua Lava.
Temperature in winter something under 80° in the
1858.] Places for Head-qiiarters 393
shade, being In lat. 13° 45' 5". The only thing
against Vanua Lava is the fact that elephantiasis
abounds among the natives, and they say that the
mortality is very considerable there, so it might not
be desirable to bring many lads to it from other
islands ; but the neighbouring islands of Mota
and Valua, and Uvaparapara are in sight and are
certainly healthy, and our buildings are not so
substantial as to cause much difficulty in shifting our
quarters if necessary'. The language is very hard,
but when it is one's business to learn a thing, it is
done after a while as a matter of course.
We have quite made up our mind that New
Zealand itself is the right place for the head-
quarters of the Mission. True, the voyage is long, and
lads can only be kept there five or six months of the
year, but the advantages of a tolerably settled state
of society are so great, and the opportunities of
showing the Melanesians the working of an English
system are so many, that I think now with the
Bishop that New Zealand should be the place for the
summer school in preference to any other. I did not
think so at one time, and was inclined to advocate
the plan of never bringing the lads out of the tropics,
but I think now that there are so many good
reasons for bringing the lads to New Zealand that
we must hope to keep them by good food and
clothing safe from colds and coughs. Norfolk Island
would have been in some ways a very good place,
but there is no hope now of our being settled
there. . . .
I can hardly have quite the same control over
lads brought to an island itself wholly uncivilised as
I can have over them in New Zealand, but as a
rule Melanesians are very tractable. Certainly I
394 Life of John Colej'idge Patteson [Ch. vill.
would sooner have my present school to manage, forty-
five of all ages from nine to perhaps twenty-seven or
eight, from twelve or thirteen islands, speaking at least
eieht lanofuaofes, than half the number of Eno^lish
boys up to all sorts of mischief. . . .
Thank you, dear uncle, for the Xavier ; a little
portable book is very nice for taking on board ship,
and I dare say I may read some of his letters in sight
of many a heathen island. . . .
Good-bye, my dear Uncle.
Your affectionate and grateful nephew,
J. C. Patteson.
' Savages are all Fridays, if you know how to treat
them ' is a saying of Patteson's in one of his letters, and
a true one. In truth, there was no word that he so
entirely repudiated as this of savage, and the courtesy
and untutored dignity of many of his native friends fully
justified his view, since it was sure to be called forth by
his own conduct towards them.
The chiefs, having a great idea of their own impor-
tance, and being used to be treated like something
sacred, and never opposed, were the most difficult people
to deal with, and in the present voyage there was a
time of great anxiety respecting a young chief named
Aroana, from the great Isle of Malanta. He fell into
an agony of nervous excitement lest he should never
see his island again, an attack of temporary insanity
came on, and he was so strong that Mr. Patteson could
not hold him down without the help of the Bishop and
another, and it was necessary to tie him down, as he
attempted to injure himself. He soon recovered, and
the cooler latitudes had a beneficial effect on him, but
there was reason to fear that in Malanta the restraint
might be regarded as an outrage on the person of a chief.
1858.] First Mention of the Bishopric 395
The voyage safely ended on the night of the i6th of
November. Here is part of a letter to Mr. Edward
Coleridge, written immediately after reading the letters
that had been waiting in Auckland : —
My father writes : — ' My tutor says that there must be
a Melanesian Bishop soon, and that you will be the
man,' a sentence which amused me not a little.
The plan is that the Bishop should gradually take
more and more time for the islands, as he transfers
to the General Synod all deeds, documents, every-
thing for which he was corporation sole, and as he
passes over to various other Bishops portions of
New Zealand. Finally, retaining only the north part
of the northern island, to take the Melanesian
Bishopric.
I urged this plan upon him very strongly one day,
when somewhere about lat. 12° S. (I fancy) he
pressed me to talk freely about the matter. I said :
' One condition only I think should be present to
your mind, viz., that you must not give up the native
population in New Zealand,' and to this he assented.
If, dear tutor, you really were not in joke, just try
to find some good man who would come and place
himself under the Bishop's direction unreservedly,
and in fact be to him much what I am + the ability
and earnestness, &c. Seriously, I am not at all fitted
to do anything but work under a good man. Of
course should I survive the Bishop, and no other
man come out, why it is better that the ensign should
assume the command than to give up the struggle
altogether. But this of course is pure speculation.
The Bishop is hearty, and, I pray God, may be
Bishop of Melanesia for twenty years to come, and
by that time there will be many more competent men
396 Life of fohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
than I ever shall be to succeed him, to say nothing of
possible casualties, climate, &c.
Good-bye, my dear Uncle ; kind love to all.
Your loving nephew and pupil,
J. C. Patteson.
The three women and the two babies were disposed
of in separate houses, but their husbands, with thirty-
nine other Melanesians, four Norfolk Islanders, two
printers, Mr. Dudley and Mr. Patteson, made up the
dinner party every day in the hall of St. John's
College. ' Not a little happy I feel at the head of
my board, with two rows of merry, happy-looking
Melanesians on either side of me !'
The coughs, colds, and feverish attacks of these
scholars were the only drawback ; the slightest chill
made them droop ; and it was a subject of joy to have
any day the full number in hall, instead of one or two
lying ill in their tutor's own bed-chamber. Poor Hirika
had worked his way back, but only to die under the
care of his kindest friends.
On the 29th of December came the exceeding joy
of the arrival of the Judge and Mrs. Martin, almost
straight from Feniton, ready to talk untiringly of every-
one there. On the New Year's day of 1859 there
was a joyful thanksgiving service at Taurarua for their
safe return, at which all the best Church people near
were present, and when John Cho made his first Com-
munion.
On the 20th these much-loved friends came to make
a long stay at the College, and the recollections they
preserved of that time have thus been recorded by
Lady Martin. It will be remembered that she had
parted from him during the year of waiting and
irregular employment : —
i8s8.] Party at St. Joluis College 397
We were away from New Zealand nearly three
years. We had heard at Feniton dear Coley's first
happy letters telling of his voyages to the islands in
1856-7, letters all aglow with enthusiasm about these
places and people. One phrase I well remember,
his kindly regret expressed for those whose lot is
not cast among the Melanesian islands. On our
return we went to live for some months at St. John's
College, where Mr, Patteson was then settled with a
large party of scholars.
We soon found that a great change had passed
over our dear friend. His whole mind was absorbed
in his work. He was always ready, indeed, to listen
to anything there was to tell about his dear father ;
but about our foreign travels, his favourite pictures,
the scenes of which we had heard so much from him
he would listen for a few minutes, but was sure in a
little while to have worked round to Melanesia in
general, or to his boys in particular, or to some dis-
cussion with my husband on the structure of their
many languages and dialects. It was then that
Bishop Abraham said that when the two came to
their ninth meaning of a particle, he used to go to
sleep.
There were a very fine intelligent set of young
men from the Loyalty Islands, some sleepy, lazy ones
from Mai, some fierce, wild-looking lads from the
Solomon Islands who had long slits in their ears
and bone horns stuck in their frizzly hair. Mr.
Patteson could communicate with all more or less
easily, and his readily delicate hearing enabled him
to distinguish accurately sounds which others could
not catch — wonderful mp and pw and mbw which
he was trying to get hold of for practical purposes.
398 Life of JoJui Coleridge Patteson [ch. vili.
He was in comfortable quarters in one long low room,
with a sunny aspect. It looked fit for a student, with
books all about, and pictures, and photos of loved
friends and places on the walls, but he had no mind to
enjoy it alone. There was sure to be some sick lad
there, wrapped up in his best rugs, in the warmest
nook by the fire. He had morning and afternoon
school daily in the large schoolroom, Mr. Dudley
and Mr. Lask assisting him. School-keeping, in its
ordinary sense, was a drudgery to him, and very dis-
tasteful. He had none of that bright lively way and
readiness in catechisino- which made some so success-
ful in managing a large class of pupils at once, but
every person in the place loved to come to the evening
classes in his own room, where, in their own language,
he opened to them the Scriptures and spoke to them
of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. It
was in those private classes that he exercised such
wonderful influence ; his musical voice, his holy
face, his gentle manner, all helping doubtless to im-
press and draw even the dullest. Long after this
he told me once how after these evening classes, one by
one, some young fellow or small boy would come
back with a gentle tap at the door, ' I want to talk
to you,' and then and there the heart would be laid
open, and counsel asked of the beloved teacher.
It was very pleasant to see him among his boys.
They all used to go off for a walk on Saturday with
him, sometimes to town, and he as full of fun with
them as if they had been a party of Eton boys. He
had none of the conventional talk, so fatal to all
true influence, about degraded heathen. They were
brethren, ignorant indeed, but capable of acquiring
the highest wisdom. It was a joke among some of
us, tliat when asked the meanino- of a Ncncfone term
1858.] Saturday Walks 399
of endearment, he answered naively, ' Oh, It means
old fellow.' He brought his fresh, happy, kindly
feelings towards English lads and young men into
constant play among Melanesians, and so they loved
and trusted him.
I think that exclusivencss of interest which Lady
Martin describes, and which his own family felt, and
which is apt to grow upon missionaries, as indeed on
every one who is very earnestly engaged in any
work, diminished as he became more familiar with his
work, and had a mind more at liberty for thought.
Mr. Dudley thus describes the same period : —
It was during the summers of 1857-8 and 1858-9
that the Loyalty Islanders mustered in such numbers
at St. John's College, as it was supposed that they, at
least Lifu, would be left in the hands of the Church
of England. Mr. Patteson worked very hard these
years at translations, and there was an immense
enthusiasm about printing, the Lifuites and Nengo-
nese striving each to get the most in their own
language.
Never shall I forget the evening service during
those years held in the College chapel, consisting of
one or two prayers in Bauro, Gera, and other
languages, and the rest in Nengonese, occasionally
changing to Lifu, when Mr. Patteson used to expound
the passage of Scripture that had been translated
in school during the day. Usually the Loyalty
Islanders would take notes of the sermon while it
went on, but now and then it was simply impossible,
for although his knowledge of Nengonese at that time,
as compared with what it was afterwards, was very
limited, and his vocabulary a small one from which
to choose his expressions, he would sometimes speak
400 Life of John Coleridge Patfeson [Ch. vili.
with such intense earnestness and show himself so
thoroughly en rapport with the most intelligent of
his hearers, that they were compelled to drop their
papers and pencils, and simply to listen. I remember
one evening in particular. For some little time past
the conduct of the men, especially the married men,
had not been at all satisfactory. The married
couples had the upper house, and John Cho, Simeona
and Kapua had obtained a draught-board, and had
regularly given themselves up to draught-playing,
night and day, neglecting all the household duties
they were expected to perform, to the great annoy-
ance of their wives, w^ho had to carry the water, and
do their husbands' work in other ways as well as their
own. This became soon known to Mr. Patteson,
and without saying anything directly to the men, he
took one evening as his subject in chapel those words
of our Lord, ' If thy hand or thy foot offend thee,' &c.,
and spoke as you know he did sometimes speak, and
evidently was entirely carried out of himself, using
the Nengonese with a freedom which showed him to
be thinking in it as he went on, and with a face only
to be described as ' the face of an angel.' We all
sat spellbound. John Cho, Simeona, and the other
walked quietly away without saying a word, and a
day or two afterwards I learnt from John that he had
lain awake that night thinking over the matter, that
fear had come upon him, lest he might be tempted
again, and jumping up instantly, he had taken the
draught-board from the place where he had left it
and had cast it into the embers of their fire.
Many and many a time was I the recipient of his
thoughts, walking with him up and down the lawn
in front of the cottage buildings of an evening, when
he would try to talk himself clear. You may imagine
1859.] Evening talks 401
what a willing listener I was, whatever he chose to
talk upon, and he often spoke very freely to me, I
being, for a long time, his only resident white com-
panion. It was not long before I felt I knew his
father well, and reverenced him deeply. He never
was tired of talking of his home, and of former days
at Eton and Oxford, and then while travelling on
the Continent. Often and often during those early
voyages have I stood or sat by his side on the deck
of the ' Southern Cross,' as in the evening, after
prayers, he stood there for hours, dressed in his
clerical attire, all but the grey tweed cap, one hand
holding the shrouds, and looking out to windward
like a man who sees afar off all the scenes he was
describinor.
Thinking over those times since, one understands
better far than one did at the time the reality of the
sacrifice he had made in devoting himself for life to
a work so far away from those he loved best on
earth.
What the enjoyment was of talking over home with
those who had lately visited it appears in this letter
to Sir John, begun on January 25, 1859 : —
Mrs. Selwyn and Mrs. Martin are staying here, so I
hear much of you all, not in any one history, but
in the many incidental references to Feniton, and
this is very natural and pleasant. It makes me
know, perhaps, little more than I did before, but the
little touches help to make up the picture, and little
things are observed by others which, perhaps, you
don't think worth mentioning yourselves.
What they specially speak of is the perfectly natu-
ral, simple way in which you all talk of New Zealand
I. D D
402 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. Vlll.
and of me, the absence of all effort, almost the plea-
surable feelings which accompany any allusion to
this part of the world. And most of all they say,
at Feniton, the feeling is not merely personal, re-
garding only the particular individual, but New
Zealand and Melanesia are real living objects of
interest.
This is what does so rejoice and delight me
always, that you always have written with the firm
conviction that not only am I usefully employed, but
that New Zealand and Melanesia are real scenes of
active labour as present to your mind as Bethnal
Green or Manchester. And so it does make me
thoroughly happy to see how you are spared all that
I know tries others.
To-day I am going to baptize four young men
from Lifu — David, William Martin, Matthew and
Henry. On Sunday last ten Melanesians were
present at the Holy Communion. Is not all this
enough to make me very happy ?
The Bishop of Wellington, for to that see Archdeacon
Abraham had been consecrated while in England,
arrived early in March, and made a short stay at the
College, during which he confirmed eleven and bap-
tized one of Patteson's flock, according to the desire of
the Primate, who was absent on one of his visitations.
Mrs. Abraham and her little boy remained at the Col-
lege, while her husband went on to prepare for her
at Wellington, and thus there was much to make the
summer a very pleasant one, only chequered by
frequent anxieties about the health of the pupils, as
repeated experiments made it apparent that the
climate of St. John's was too cold for them. Another
anxiety was respecting Lifu ; for the London Mis-
1 859-] ^^^ London Mission Claim to Lifu 403
sionary Society had, after all, undertaken to supply
two missionaries from England, and it was a most
doubtful and delicate question whether the wishes of
the natives or the established principle of non-inter-
ference with pre-occupied ground, ought to have most
weight. The Primate was so occupied by New
Zealand affairs that he wrote to Mr. Patteson to
decide it himself, and he could but wait to be guided
by circumstances on the spot.
To Mr. Edward Coleridge he writes on the i8th
of March : —
How much this work engrosses my mind you see,
and yet how small by comparison it becomes when
viewed with reference to India, and the great
nations now opening their arms to Christianity as
we trust. The more one thinks and reads of
India, the more one is horrified at the greatness of
our national sin towards God and that land. Indif-
ference and ignorance at home, oppression and
cruelty in the land, money the standard of all virtue,
that servant the best who sent home most money ;
hill tribes goaded to desperation, and then deci-
mated for rebellion ; the religion of the country
mocked by drunkards and profligates, as if, poor
souls, their guilt was not the greater guilt in the
sight of God ; and all perpetrated by us. I declare
it makes me tremble to think of it. I suppose no
one book can give a really impartial view of the
question ; it is difficult to write quite dispassionately
on such subjects, but the general result that is
arrived at is a very fearful one, any way.
How one longs to see some real effort by the
Church of England to do something for India.
This dilatory grudging gift of a few Bishops ! . . .
D D 2
404 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
I have many and delightful talks with Mr. Martin
on our languages. We see already how strong
an infusion of Polynesian elements exists in the
Melanesian islands. With the language of four
groups we are fairly acquainted now, besides some
of the distinguishing dialects, which differ very
much from one another ; nevertheless, I think that
by-and-by we shall connect them all if we live ; but
as some dialects may have dropped out altogether,
we may want a few links in the chain to demonstrate
the connection fully to people at a distance. It is
a great refreshment to me to work out these matters,
and the Judge kindly looked up the best books that
exist in all the Polynesian languages, so that we
can found our induction upon a comparison of all
the dialects now from the Solomon Islands to the
Marquesas, with the exception of the Santa Cruz
archipelago. We have been there two or three
times, but the people are so very numerous and
noisy, that we never have had a chance as yet of
getting into a quiet talk (by signs, &c.) with any of
the people.
Still, as we know some Polynesian inhabitants of
a neighbouring isle who have large sea canoes, and
go to Santa Cruz, we may soon get one of them to
go with us, and so have an interpreter, get a lad or
two, and learn the language.
We are sadly in want of men ; yet we cannot write
to ask persons to come out for this work who may
be indisposed, when they arrive in New Zealand, to
carry out the particular system on which the Bishop
proceeds. Any man who would come out and
consent to spend a summer at the Melanesian
school in New Zealand in order to learn his work,
and would give up any preconceived notions of his
1 859-] Requisites for a Missionary. 405
own about the way to conduct missionary work that
might mihtate against the Bishop's plan — such a
man would be, of course, the very person we want ;
but we must try to make people understand that
half-educated men will not do for this work. Men
sent out as clergymen to the mission field who would
not have been thought fit to receive Holy Orders at
home, are not at all the men we want. It is not at
all probable that such men would really understand
the natives, love them, and live with them ; but they
would be great dons, keeping the natives at a
distance, assuming that they could have little in
common, &c, — ideas wholly destructive of success
in missionary, or in any work. That pride of
race which prompts a white man to regard coloured
people as inferior to himself, is strongly ingrained in
most men's minds, and must be wholly eradicated
before they will ever win the hearts, and thus the
souls of the heathen.
What a preachment, as usual, about Melanesia. . . .
Your loving old Pupil and Nephew,
J. C. Patteson.
Next follows a retrospective letter.
April I, 1859: St. John's College.
My dearest Father, — Thirty-two years old to-day !
Well, it is a solemn thing to think that one has so
many days and months and years to account for.
Looking back, I see how fearfully I wasted oppor-
tunities which I enjoyed, of which, I fancy, I should
now avail myself gladly ; but I don't know that I
fancy what is true, for my work now, though there
is plenty of it, is desultory, and I dare say hard appli-
cation, continuously kept up, would be as irksome to
me as ever.
4o6 Life of JoJui Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. vill.
It seems very strange to me that I never found any
pleasure in classical studies formerly. Now, the
study of the languages for its own sake even is so
attractive to me that I should enjoy working out the
exact and delicate powers of Greek particles, &c. ;
but I never cared for it till it was too late, and the
whole thing was drudgery to me. I had no appre-
ciation, again, of Historians, or historians ; only
thought Thucydides difficult and Herodotus prosy (! !),
and Tacitus dull and Livy apparently easy and
really very hard. So, again, with the poets ; and
most of all I found no interest (fancy !) in Plato and
Aristotle. They were presented to me as merely
school books ; not as the great effort of the cultivated
heathen mind to solve the riddle of man's being ; and
I, in those days, never thought of comparing the
heathen and Christian ethics, and the great writers
had no charm for me.
Then my French. If I had really taken any
pains with old Tarver in old days — and it was your
special wish that I should do so — how useful it would
be to me now ; whereas, though I get on after a
sort, I don't speak at all as I ought to do, and might
have learnt to do. It is sad to look back upon all
the neglected opportunities ; and it is not only that
I have not got nearly (so to speak) a quantity of
useful materials for one's work in the present time,
but that I find it very hard to shake off desultory
habits. I suppose all persons have to make reflec-
tions of this kind, more or less sad ; but, somehow, I
feel it very keenly now : for certainly I did waste
time sadly ; and it so happens that I have just had
' Tom Brown's Schooldays ' lent me, and that I spent
some time in reading it on this particular day, and, of
course, my Eton life rose up before me. What a
1 859-] Regrets 407
useful book that is ! A real gain for a young person
to have such a book. That is very much the kind
of thing that would really help a boy — manly, true
and plain.
I hear from Sydney by last mail that the Bishop is
really desirous to revive the long dormant Board of
Missions. He means to propose to send a priest
and a deacon to every island ready for them, and to
provide for them — if men are forthcoming, and funds.
Of this latter I have not much doubt. , . .
April 2. — I have to get ready for three English
full services to-morrow, besides Melanesian ditto. —
So good-bye, my dearest Father,
Your loving and dutiful Son,
J. C. Patteson.
Sir John Patteson might well say, in a letter of this
summer, to Bishop Selwyn : —
As to my dear boy Coley, I am more and more thank-
ful every day that I agreed to his wishes ; and in
whatever situation he may be placed, feel confident
that his heart will be in his work, and that he will do
God service. He will be contented to work under
any one who may be appointed Bishop of Melanesia
(or any other title), or to be the Bishop himself." If
I judge truly, he has no ambitious views, and only
desires that he may be made as useful as his powers
enable him to be, whether in a high or subordinate
situation.
Nothing could be more true than this. There
was a general sense of the probability that Mr.
Patteson must be the first Missionary Bishop ; but
he continued to work on at the immediate business,
always keeping the schemes and designs which
4o8 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
necessarily rose In his mind ready to be subjected to
the control of whomsoever might be set over him.
The cold had set in severely enough to make it need-
ful to carry off his ' party of coughing, shivering
Melanesians ' before Easter, and the ' Southern Cross '
sailed on the i8th. Patteson took with him a good
store of coffee, sugar and biscuits, being uncertain
whether he should or should not again remain at
Lifu.
In the outward voyage he only landed his pupils
there, poor Carry very ill, and then went on to the
Banks Islands, where Sarawia was returned at Vanua
Lava, and after Mr. Patteson had spent a pleasant day
among the natives, Mota was visited next after.
May 2/^tk. — On Monday, at 3 p.m., we sailed from
Port Patteson across to Mota. Here I landed
among 750 people and the boat returned to the
vessel. She was to keep up to windward during
the night and call for me the next morning. I walked
with my large following from the beach, up a short
steep path, to the village, near to which, indeed only
200 yards off, is another considerable village. The
soil is excellent ; the houses good — built round the
open space which answers to the green in our villages,
and mighty banyan trees spreading their lofty and
wide-branching arms above and around them. The
side walls of these houses are not more than two
feet high, made only of bamboos lashed by cocoa-
nut fibre, or wattled together, and the long sloping
roofs nearly touch ground, but within they are
tolerably clean and quite dry. The moon was in the
first quarter, and the scene was striking, as I sat out
in the open space with some 200 people crowding
round me — men, women and children ; fires in front
1 859-] Villages in Mota 409
where yams were roasting ; the dark brown forms
glancing to and fro in the flickering Hght ; the moon's
rays quivering down through the vast trees, and the
native hollow drum beating at intervals to summon
the people to the monthly feast on the morrow. I
slept comfortably on a mat in a cottage with many
other persons in it. Much talk I had with a large
concourse outside, and again in this cottage, on
Christianity; and all were quiet when I knelt down as
usual and said my evening prayers. Up at 5.30 a.m.,
and walked up a part of the Sugar Loaf peak, from
which the island derives its English name, and found
a small clear stream, flowing through a rocky bed ;
back to the village, where were some 300 people
assembled ; sat some time with them, then went to
the beach, where the boat soon came for me.
After this there was a good deal of bad weather ;
but all the lads were restored to their islands, includ-
ing Aroana, the young Malanta chief, who had begun
by a fit of frenzy, but had since behaved well ; and
who left his English friends, with a promise to do all
in his power to tame his people and cure them of
cannibalism.
Then came some foul winds and hot exhausting
weather.
I have done little more than read Stanley's ' Sinai and
Palestine,' and Helps's * Spanish America,' two excel-
lent books and most delightful to me. The characters
in the Spanish conquest of Mexico, and America
generally ; the whole question of the treatment of
natives ; and that noble man. Las Casas — are more
intelligible to me than to most persons probably.
The circumstances of my present life enable me to
realise it to a greater extent.
4IO Life of John ColoHdge Patteson [Ch. viii.
Then I have been dipping into a Httle ethnology ;
yesterday a little Plato ; but it is almost too hot for
anything that requires a woi^king head-piece. You
know I take holiday time this voyage when we are
in open water and no land near, and it is great relaxa-
tion to me.
How excellent are the three best photographs of
you, Joan, Fan, Aunt James, Sophy, Pena, the
house from the head of the drive, and the Church —
I do so enjoy them. The photograph of you is ex-
cellent ; but I realise by it that you have aged much
in appearance. It is exactly what I wanted — your
own dear expression, and altogether invaluable to me.
The more I look at it, the more vividly home rises
up before me with all the old associations ; and all that
is in my busy life seems so often almost a dream, as
it regains once more its reality and power over me.
A pretty severe gale of wind followed, a sharp test
of Patteson's seamanship.
Then came one day of calm, when we all got our
clothes dry, and the deck and riggmg looked like an
old clothes' shop. Then we got a fairish breeze ;
but we can get nothing in moderation. Very soon it
blew up into a strong breeze, and here we are lying
to with a very heavy sea. Landsmen would call it
mountainous, I suppose. I am tired, for I have had
an anxious time ; and we have had but one quiet
night for an age, and then I slept from 9.30 p.m. to
7.30 A.M. continuously.
It may be that this is very good training for me.
Indeed it must give me more coolness and confi-
dence. I felt pleased as well as thankful when we
made the exact point of Nengone that I had calcu-
lated upon, and at the exact time.
1859.] Death of Caroline 411
There Mr. Creagh gave information that Caro-
line had died only a fortnight after she had been
landed ; but, considering the consumptive tendency of
the Loyalty Islanders, and the discomforts even of
Simeona's comparatively civilised dwelling with four
walls and a window, as she described it, her death
was hardly chargeable upon the winds of Auckland.
On the 20th of June, Auckland harbour was safely
attained ; but the coming back without scholars did
not make much of holiday time for their master, who
was ready to give help to other clergymen when-
ever it might be needed, though, in fact, this desultory
occupation always tried him most.
On the 25th of July he says : —
I have had a sixty miles' walk since I wrote last ; some
part of it over wild country. I lost my way once or
twice and got into some swamps, but I had my little
pocket-compass.
My first day was eighteen miles in pouring rain ;
no road, injv^z^r sense of the word ; but a good warm
room and tea at the end. Next day on the move all
day, by land and water, seeing settlers scattered about.
Third day, Sunday, services at two different places.
Fourth day, walk of some twenty-seven miles through
unknown regions ; baptizing children at different
places ; and reaching, after divers adventures, a very
hospitable resting-place at 8 p.m. in the dark. Next
day an easy walk into Auckland and Taurarua.
Yesterday, Sunday, very wet day. Man-of-war gig-
came down for me at 9.15 a.m. took the service on
board ; 1 1 a.m. St. Paul's service ; afternoon, hospital,
a mile or so off; 6 p.m. St. Paul's evening service;
8,33, arrived at Taurarua dripping.
The same letter replies to one from home : —
412 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
I thank you, my dear Father, for writing so fully about
yourself, and especially, for seeing and stating so
plainly your full conviction that I ought not to think of
returning to England. It would, as you say, humanly
speaking, interfere most seriously with the prospects
of the Mission. Some dear friends write to me dif-
ferently, but they don't quite understand, as you have
taken pains to do, what our position is out here ; and
they don't see that my absence would involve great
probable injury to the whole work.
It is curious how few there are who know any-
thing of New Zealand and Melanesia !
Of course it is useless to speculate on the future,
but I see nothing at all to make it likely that I shall
ever revisit England. I can't very well conceive
any such state of things as would make it a duty
to gratify my constant inclination. And, my dear
father, I don't scruple to say (for you will under-
stand me) that I am happier here than I should be
in England, where, even though I were absent only
a few months, I should bear about with me the
constant weight of knowing that Melanesia was not
provided for. And, strange as it may seem, this
has quite ceased to be a trial to me. The effort of
subduing the long desire to see you is no longer
a great one : I feel that I am cheerful and bright,
and light-hearted, and that I have really everything
to make a man thankful and contented.
And if you could see the thankful look of the
Bishop, when he is again assured that there is no
item of regret or desire to call me home on your
part, you would feel, I know, that colonial work
does require, especially, an unconditional unreserved
surrender of a man to whatever he may find
to do.
i8s9] Resolution to stay at his Post 413
But while admiring the noble spirit in which the
son held fast his post, and the father forebore to
unsettle him there, let not their example be used in
the unkind and ignorant popular cry against the
occasional return of colonial Bishops. Vox, be it
remembered, that dire necessity was not drawing
Coleridge Patteson to demand pecuniary assistance
round all the platforms of English towns. The
Eton, and the Australian and New Zealand Associa-
tions, supplemented by his own family, relieved him
from the need of having to maintain his Mission by
such means. All these letters are occupied with
the arrangements for raising means for removing
the Melanesian College to a less bleak situation, and
it is impossible to read them without feeling what a
difference it made to have a father who did not view
giving to God's work as robbing his family.
On the 13th of August, Patteson was on board,
preparing for the voyage ; very cold, and eager for
the tropics. The parting voice in his farewell letter
is : ' I think I see more fully that work, by the power
of God's Spirit, is the condition of us all in this
world ; tiny and insignificant as the greatest work
of the greatest men is, in itself, yet the one talent is
to be used.'
It was meant to be a farewell letter, but another
followed in the leisure, while waiting for the Bishop
to embark, with some strong (not to say fiery) opinions
on the stern side of duty.
I feel anxious to try to make some of the motives
intelligible, upon which we colonial folk act some-
times. First. I think that we get a stronger sense
of the necessity for dispensing with that kind of
414 J^^f^ of yohu Coleridge Pattcson [c h . v 1 1 1 .
courtesy and good nature which sometimes interferes
with duty than people do in England.
So a man placed as I am (for example) really
cannot oftentimes avoid letting it be seen that work
must come first ; and, by degrees, one sympathises
less than one possibly should do with drones and
idlers in the hive, and feels it wrong to assent to a
scheme which lets a real work suffer for the sake
of acquiescing in a conventional recognition of com-
fort, claims of society, &c.
Would the general of an army say to his officers,
' Pray, gentlemen, don't dirty your boots or fatigue
your horses to succour the inhabitants of a distant
village ' ? Or a captain to his mates and middies :
' Don't turn out, don't go aloft. It is a thing hard,
and you might get wet ' ?
And the difference between us and people at
home sometimes is, that we don't see why a clergy-
man is not as much bound as an officer in the army
or navy to do what he is pledged of his own act to
do ; and that at home the ' parsonage and pony-
carriage ' delusion practically makes men forget this.
I forget it as much any man, and should very
likely never have seen the mistake but for my
coming to New Zealand ; and it is one of the great
blessings we enjoy.
There is a mighty work to be done. God employs
human agents, and the Bible tells us what are the
rules and conditions of their efficiency.
' Oh ! but, poor man, he has a sickly wife ! ' Yes,
but, ' it remaineth that those who have wives be as
they that have none.'
True, but the case of a large family ? ' Who-
soever loveth child more than me,' &c.
Second. The fact that we live almost without
1 859-] Plain Living and Plain Speaking 415
servants makes us more independent, and also makes
us acquainted with the secrets of each other's house-
keeping, &c. All that artificial intercourse which
depends a good deal upon a well-fitted servants'
hall does not find place here. More simple and
more plain and homely in speech and act is our life
in the colonies — e.g.^ you meet me carrying six or
seven loaves from town to the college. ' Oh, I
knew that the Bishop had to meet some persons
there to-day, and I felt nearly sure there would be
no breakfast then.' Of course an English person
thinks, ' Why didn't he send the bread ? ' To which
I answer, ' Who was there to send '^ '
I don't mean that I particularly like turning
myself into a miller one day and a butcher the next ;
but that doing it as a matter of course, where there
is no one else to do it, one does sometimes think it un-
reasonable to say, as has been said to the Bishop : —
* Two thousand pounds a year you want for your
Mission work ! ' ' Yes,' said the Bishop, ' and not
too much for sailing over ten thousand miles, and
for educating, clothing, and feeding some forty young
men ! '
I mean that conventional notions in England are .
preventing people from really doing half what they
might do for the good of the needy.
T don't know how this might be said to be a
theory tending to revolutionise society ; but I think
I do know that there is a kind of religious common
sense which comes in to guide people in such
matters. Only, I do not think it right to admit that
plea for not doing more in the way of almsgiving
which is founded upon the assumption that first of
all a certain position in society must be kept up,
which involves certain expenditure.
4i6 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
A barrister is living comfortably on 800/. a year,
or a clergyman in his living of 400/. The pro-
fessional income of the one increases, and a fatter
living is given to the other, or some money is
left them. What do they do ? Instantly start a
carriage, another servant, put the jack-of-all-trades
into a livery, turn the buttons into a flunkey, and the
village girl into a ladies' maid ! Is this really right ?
They were well enough before. Why not use the
surplus for some better purpose ?
I imagine that we, the clergy, are chiefly to blame,
for not only not protesting against, but most content-
edly acquiescing in such a state of things. You ask
now for something really demanding a sacrifice. * I
can't afford it.' ' What, not to rescue that village
from starvation ? not to enable that good man to
preach the Gospel to people only accessible by
means of such an outlay on his vessel, &c. ? Give
up your carriage, your opera box ; don't have so
many grand balls, &c.' Oh no ! it is all a corban to
the genius of society.
Now, is this scriptural or not, my dear father ?
I don't mean that any individual is justified in dic-
tating to his neighbour, still less in condemning him.
But are not these the general principles of religion
and morality in the Bible ? There are duties to
society : but a good man will take serious counsel as
to zuJiat they are, and how far they may be militating
against higher and holier claims.
August 24. — Why I wrote all this, my dearest
father, I hardly know, only I feel sure that unless
men at home can, by taking real pains to think about
it, realise the peculiar circumstances of colonial life,
they will never understand any one of us.
1859.] Bequest to the Mission 417
I have written Fan a note in which I said something
about my few effects if I should die.
One thing I should like to say to you, not as ven-
turing to do more than let you be in full possession
of my own mind on the matter. Should I die
before you die, would it be wrong for me to say,
' Make the Melanesian Mission my heir'?
It may be according to the view which generally
obtains that the other three should then divide my
sharie. But now I would take what may seem the
hard view of which I have been writing, and say,
* They have enough to maintain them happily and
comfortably.' The Mission work without such a
bequest will be much endangered. I feel sure that
they would wish it to be so, for, of course, you know
that this large sum of which you write will be, if I
survive you, regarded simply as a bequest to the
Mission in which I have a life interest, and the
interest of which, in the main, would be spent on
the Mission.
But I only say plainly, without any reserve, what I
have thought about it ; not for one moment putting
up my opinion against yours, of course, in case you
take a contrary view.
We sail, I hope, to-morrow, but the Bishop is more
busy than ever.
Again, my dearest Father,
Your loving and dutiful Son,
J. C. Patteson.
The history of this voyage was, as usual, given in a
long letter for the Feniton fireside ; but there was a
parallel journal also, kept for the Bishop of Wellington,
which is more condensed, and, therefore, better for
quotation.
I. E E
41 8 Life of JoJui Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viil.
The manner in which the interest in, and connection
with all English friends and relations was kept up is
difficult to convey, though it was a very loveable part
of the character. Little comments of condolence or
congratulation, and messages of loving remembrance
to persons mentioned by playful names, would only be
troublesome to the reader ; but it must be taken for
granted that every reply to a home packet was full of
these evidences that the black children on a thousand
isles had by no means driven the cousins and friends
of youth from a heart that was enlarged to have
tenderness for all.
Lat. 9° 29' S. ; Long. 163° S.E.
' Southern Cross : ' October 9, 1859.
My dear Bishop, — We are on our way from Uleawa to
the Santa Cruz group, having visited the Loyalty
Islands, Southern New Hebrides, Banks Islands {2),
and Solomon Islands.
The Bishop so planned the voyage as to run down
the wind quickly to the Solomon Islands, and do the
real work coming home ; not, as usual, beating up in
the open water between the Santa Cruz archipelago,
Banks Islands and New Hebrides to the east, and
New Caledonia to the west. We are thus able to
visit Vanua Lava on the way out and home also ;
and as we meant to make the Banks Islands the
great point this voyage, that was, of course, great
gain.
We touched at Norfolk Island. . . Going on to
Nengone we found everybody away at the distant
yam grounds, and could not wait to see them. George
Simcona and Wapai were, however, at Netche.
George more pleasant and simple in manner than I
ever knew him — looking ill, poor fellow, and wiih a
sad cough.
i859-] Disappomtvicnt at Taka 419
As the Bishop quite approves of our not interfer-
ing with the L. M. S. at Nengone and Lifu, we
said to George and Wapai that we should take no
one to New Zealand who did not make up his mind
exclusively to throw in his lot with us altogether.
George himself would be too ill to be taken away,
even if he wished it. What Wadrokala and Malo
may do, we shall see as we return.
Thence we went to Lifu, not calling at Taka, for
now shall I tell you of the sad news that Kapua,
that fine young fellow, has fallen away into sin, and
seems to be acting almost like a madman ?
I have hopes even from the very wild frenzied
nature of his behaviour (as I am told of it) that his
conscience is smiting him hard ; and that, if God
spares his life, he may come in shame and sorrow
to himself, like the Prodigal ; but it is very sad and
distresses me much ; I long to see him, and hope to
do so in a few weeks, but it was thought useless to
attempt to see him when we were at Nengone. I
heard the whole account confirmed by John Cho
at Lifu, so I cannot doubt that it is substantially
correct.
At Lifu, the first thing that shocked us was John's
appearance : one of those fatal glandular swellings
has already produced a great change in him. He
looked sallow and weak, and I fear nt sit vitalis.
He spoke to me very calmly about his illness, which
he thinks is unto death, and I did not contradict
him.
We had much private talk together. He is a fine
fellow and, I believe, a sincere Christian man. Then
came the applications to us not to desert them, and
letters enumerating all the villages of Lifu almost
E E 2
420 Li/e of y ohn Coleridge Patiesou [Ch. Vlll.
without exception, and entreating us to suffer them
to be connected with us, and we had to answer that
already two missionaries from the L. M. S. are on
their way from Sydney to Lifu, and that it would do
harm to have two rival systems on the island. They
acquiesced but not heartily, and it was a sad affair
altogether, all parties unhappy and dissatisfied, and
yet unable to solve the difficulty. Then came a talk
with Angadhohua, John's half-brother, the real chief.
The poor lad feels now what a terrible thing it will
be for him and his people if they should lose John.
Nothing can be nicer than his way of talking : ' I
know you don't think me firm enough, and that I am
easily led by others. What am I to do if John
dies ? We all respect him. He has been taught so
much, and people all listen to him.' I gave him
the best advice that I could and longed to be able
to do something for him and his people. It was^
however, a comfort to leave with them St. Mark,
Scripture books, &c.
From Lifu we went to Anaiteum, meetino^ with a
short but very severe gale on our way ; luckily we
had but little sail on the schooner, and our top-sail
split ; but as it was we were all but on our beam-ends
— no real damage, only two old cloths of the top-
sail gave way. The visit to Anaiteum pleasant as
usual. . .
Next day we called at Tanna, to see poor Mr.
Paton, who lost his wife last April. He is living on
there quite alone and has already lived down the
first angry opposition of some of the people, and the
unkind treatment that he received from men and
women alike who mocked him because of his wife's
death, <&c. lie has liad much fever and looked v^ery
ill, but his heart was in his work ; and the Bishop
1 859-] London Missionary Society s Stations 421
said he seemed to be one of the weak thini^^s which
God hath chosen, I know he made me feel pretty
well ashamed of myself.
Next day we spent a few hours with Mr, and Mrs.
Gordon at Erromango. He has a small house on
the high table-land overlooking Dillon's Bay, and
certainly is exposed to winds which may, for aught
I know, rival those of Wellington notoriety. The
situation is, however, far preferable in the summer to
that on the beach, which is seldom free from malaria
and ague.
Thence we went on to Fate, and round, a long way
up the bay of Worokoro, to a station where three
Rarotongans and their wives were placed last year by
the ' John Williams.' We found that one man and
his wife had died ; the rest were looking pretty well,
but had been ill. The natives have built a chapel,
and treat them very kindly. We gave them coffee,
sugar, biscuit, and prepared bottles of port wine and
quinine.
Then we sailed to the great bay of Pango,
landed at Fate a fellow who had come to the Bishop
in New Zealand for a passage, and in the afternoon
sailed away through ' the Pool ' (the landlocked
space between Mallicolo and Espiritu Santo to the
west ; Aspee, Ambrym, Whitsuntide, Aurora to the
east), where for eighty miles the water Is always
smooth, the wind always steady, the scenery always
lovely, and where, on this occasion, the volcano was
bright.
Being nearly becalmed to the south-east of
Leper's Isle, the Bishop gave me the choice of a visit
to Whitsuntide or Leper's Island. I voted for the
latter, and delighted we were to renew an acquaint-
ance made two years ago, and not since kept up, with
422 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. vill.
these specially nice people. We were recognised at
once, but we have a very small vocabulary.
The sea was running heavily into the bay, but it
is sand there and not much rock on the beach, and
we had a jolly swim ashore. Then we bought a
few yams, which the surf did not permit us to get to
the boat, and had a very pleasant visit ; for, as we
sat among them, words came into one's head, or
were caught from their mouth, and at the end of
twenty minutes we were getting on a little. The
old chief took me by the hand and led me aside to
the spot where the ladies were assembled, and
divining no doubt that I was a bachelor, politely
offered me his daughter, and his protection, &c., if I
would live among them.
I missed seeing the Bishop knocked clean over by
the breakers as he was swimming off to the boat ; I
was still talking to the people, with my back to the
sea, and only saw him staggering to his feet again.
Thinking to myself that if lie was knocked over, I
had better look out, I awaited a ' smooth ' and swam
out comfortably.
The next morning (Sunday) at ten, we dropped
anchor in Port Patteson, the harbour which you
know the Bishop would call after my father. The
first person who came off to us was Sarawia, my old
Lifu pupil, from this island ! Thon came a good
many men. I told them there would be no going
ashore and no trading till the next day. Palemana,
your friend Matawathki, &c., were at church, all
dressed and well behaved. What nice orderly people
they arc, to be sure !
The next day we bought lots of yams, and gave
away seeds and fruit-trees, or rather planted them ;
and looked for a place for a station, and fixed at last
1859.] Beauty of Mot a 423
on the rising ground which forms the east side of the
harbour, and the Bishop, arming himself with an axe,
led a party to clear the bush, which was very thick.
They made a fair path through in one afternoon to
the top, and a healthy place might be found now
with litde trouble to return to at nio-ht from the
schools, &c., in the village below, and so shirk the
malaria.
But the next day, as I had anticipated, rather
changed his intentions as to the principal station
belno- formed at Vanua Lava. We landed at Su^jar
Loaf Island, and with something of pride I showed
off to him the beauties of the villages where I slept
in May last — the dry soil, the spring of water, the
wondrous fertility, the large and remarkably intelli-
gent, well-looking population, the great banyan tree,
twenty-seven paces round — and at once he said,
' This is such a place as I have seen nowhere else
for our purpose.'
The Bishop had seen this island before I was with
him, during one of the ' Border Maid's ' voyages, and
knew the people, of course, but had not happened
to have walked in shore at all, and so the exceeding
beauty and fitness of the island for a Mission station
had not become so apparent to him. We know of
no place where there seems to be such an unusual
combination of everything that can be desired,
humanly speaking, for such an institution. So that
is settled (D. V.) that next winter I should be here, if
alive and well ; and that the Banks Islands should be
regarded as the central point of the Mission.
Such boys ! Bright-eyed, merry fellows, many
really handsome ; of that reddish yellow tinge of
colour which betokens affinity with Polynesian races,
as their language also testifies. The majority of the
424 Life of jfohn Coleridge Patteson [c h. v 1 1 1 .
people were pleasing in their appearance and manner.
Well, all this was very hopeful, and we went off
very happy, taking Rumau, the boy who first met
us at Port Patteson when we found it out, and old
Wompas (who was with me at Lifu), and another
from Mota, to see the Northern Islands,
Next day we spent in visiting the Torres Islands.
We cannot understand a dozen words here, and
the people are numerous, noisy, and well-armed.
Traders, we have reason to think, have been here :
one we know of ; and the people have received bad
treatment, and we were obliged to be careful. We
landed but once only, and then did no good. But it
may be that they will talk over this visit, and be
ready to meet us in a friendly way next year.
We sailed quietly before the trade to Bauro, and
anchored at Hade, two miles north of Mota, on
Sunday, October 2. Here and at Maran (Gera)
we have met with disappointment. Gariri, Sumaro,
Didimang and Tehe all gone off a month ago in the
vessel which brought Hirika back. This required
pretty plain speaking. Kereariia looking ill, wast-
ing away. He had some conversation with me
about dying, and I liked his manner of speaking.
When we went away, he came with us in spite of all
his friends could say, but a canoe came in the course
of the day from a neighbouring village, and he
said that he dreaded dying at sea, and would sooner
go away, and so he went.
Gariri's two next brothers and another boy came
away with us, I told the people that as they had
made no attempt to do anything that we required
of them, and showed no disposition to value the
teaching which we wished to communicate, and the
purport of which they had more or less understood,
1859.] DisappoinUnent at Moia 425
we should not return to Mota. We had before re-
solved to change the course, and we think we have
found a little connection in all respects in the north
of the island, which is more fertile, open and populous,
well-watered moreover, and from which we might
influence Maran and Mara, whose inhabitants pay
frequent visits to that part of Bauro.
Well, this was rather a disappointment, yet we had
seen that it must come to this, and we shall be re-
taining our hold really upon the place just as effec-
tually by making head-quarters in Bauro at a place
twenty miles from Mota. Any one who cares about
being taught will know where to find us, and can
easily come to us.
Next day, at Maran, we had bad news. There
has been really serious fighting. The two chiefs of
Peuron, an island in the Great Sound, where I slept
some time ago, have been at war about a girl stolen
by the son of one chief from the other chiefs house.
Only four people have been killed, but many wounded,
and at last Terihevo and all his men, about forty,
with women and children besides, were all driven
away to Kera. Under these circumstances, we
thought it best to say that we could not take away
any scholar at all ; that if they persisted in fighting,
we should not come among them. The fellows that
I should most have wished to bring away had already
been driven to a distant part of the country by the
victorious party, and we thought that it would not
be enough to protest in words only against their
conduct, but that the absence of hatchets, fish-hooks,
and the loss of connection with us for a time will be
really felt by them. Of course it is a pity that we
are under the necessity of taking such a step, but we
should clearly gain nothing by taking off some new
426 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
scholar now, there being no one that we consider
Hkely to produce any influence for good on the
people in their present state. We know enough of
the language to be able to take it up at any future
time, and I don't think an interval of one season will
retard our work there.
At Malanta we had a very pleasant visit. Aroana,
the chief, whom we had been obliged to bind on
board ship to prevent his committing suicide, was
very friendly. We came away with Latewatia, a
nice lad, who was with me at Lifu, and two
boys.
At Uleawa we were sorry not to be allowed to
bring away an old scholar, Tehele. He wanted very
much to come, but his people prevented it ; and,
indeed, things were just in that state at last which
may easily lead to a row. Lads in the boat, unin-
vited by us, longing to go, and their relations strug-
gling with them, pulling them out again, and imagin-
ing, I suppose, that we were encouraging them to go
without leave ; they were getting noisy, and one man,
as (who is always imagining all kinds of unreal
dangers) declares, quivering his spear in a manner
tha;t looked serious. However they were noisy, and
there was some confusion, enough to make me come
from among the crowd — where I was trying to make
Tehele's father let him go — to the boat, push her off,
and help the Bishop to get rid of the young fellows
who wanted to go, but whom we did not care to
take. We came away with one young man, but sent
him back in a canoe with a message that as they did
not choose to let us take our old scholar, we would
not take any one. Consequently, the Solomon Islands
part of our work is not very satisfactory just now,
and yet so hopeful are the signs on the north coast
i859-] Plan of Operations 427
of Bauro that I really think we have been driven
by the want of connection elsewhere to the spot
that will ultimately turn out in all probability the
best for that island, and also for acting upon the
Maran and Mara people.
I think our work is more likely now to revolve
upon a fixed centre — Sugar Loaf Island in the Banks
group — that we shall make the occupation of the
group the first object, and do all with reference to
that as the necessary part of the work to be attended
to first. In the choice of scholars, e.g.^ we have
considered whether we should not limit our. selection
to such as might pass the next winter with me at
Sugar Loaf Island, and so that the vessel need not
run down to leeward of it. Solomon Islands are the
extreme verge. In the East Island, where there
would be merely a question of nothing or something,
we may take very young men who would perhaps
not be easy to keep out of harm at Sugar Loaf,
because there will be no difficulty about returning
them to their homes. . . .
November jtk. — We found in the Santa Cruz
group that the news of Captain Front's and his two
men's death in Vanikoro, and (as we suppose) the
news of the ' Cordelia ' having been at that island to
inquire into the matter, had made the people anxious,
uneasy, noisy, and rather rude. That poor man
went to make a station at Vanikoro in the usual way,
taking three poor New Caledonian women with him.
The Vanikoro people killed the three English and
took away the women.
We did not land at Sta. Cruz, but we had a more
pleasant intercourse than heretofore with thirty or
forty canoes' crews.
Timelin Island we ascertained to be identical with
428 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
Niikapu, an old familiar place whose latitude we had
not ascertained correctly before. The small reef
(Polynesian) islands did not give us so good a recep-
tion as last year, though there was no unfriendliness.
The news about Vanikoro had made them suspicious
of visits from white men. But they will be all right
by next time. . . .
We saw a pleasant party at Bligh Island, brought
away one young man from that island, and two lads
belonging to a neighbouring small island called Rowa.
The next day we watered on the north side of
Vanua Lava, and in the evening went across to
Santa Maria. Here we landed on the next day
among two hundred or more people, shy and noisy.
We bought a few yams, and I detected some young
fellows stealing from our little heap. I would not
overlook this, but the noticing it made them more
suspicious that we meant to hurt them. As the
Bishop and I, after some twenty minutes, turned to
rejoin the boat, the whole crowd bolted like a shot
right and left into the bush. Evidently they must
have had some trading crew firing a parting shot in
mere wantonness at them from their boat. I expected
some arrows to be shot at us ; but they did not shoot
any.
The same evening (Saturday) we stood across
the passage with a brisk breeze, and took up our
])arty, consisting of five and including Sarawia and
four others anciently noted as promising in appear-
ance. . . .
We reached Mota, (Sugar Loaf Island) in time
to leave me for a night's visit to the people. I had
time before the boat called next day at noon to see
five or six of their villages. People quite accustomed
i859-] Neu) Scholars 429
to expect me — all most friendly, apparently pleased to
be told that I would stop with them in the winter.
Seven scholars joined us here. . . .
At Mai, I slept in the house of Petere and Laure.
Things are promising. It is quite ready for a
missionary. We brought away Moto, Pepeu, and
the two young boys who were with me at Lifu, and
very many wished to come.
Thence we had a very long passage to Lifu. John
Cho is, I am thankful to say, very much better. The
two men from the London Missionary Society are
on the island. . . The Lifu people tell me that in the
north of the island many are accepting the teaching
of the two French priests. William Martin Tahia
and Chakham, a principal chief and old scholar, are
with us.
At Nengone, Wadrokala, George Simeona, and
Harper Malo have come away for good. . . . We
number thirty-nine Melanesians. . . . This is a long
letter which will try your patience.
Always, my dear Bishop,
Affectionately yours,
J. C. Patteson.
Another long letter was written during this voyage
to Mr. Edward Coleridge, a great portion of it on the
expediency of the islands being taken under British
protection, also much respecting the Church of New
Zealand, which is scarcely relevant to the immediate
subject, and only at the end is there anything more
personal.
The last accounts of my father were unusually good,
but I well know what news may be awaiting our
return from a voyage whether long or short, and
430 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. viii.
I try to be ready for any news ; yet I suppose that I
cannot at all realise what it would be. It makes
some difference when the idea of meeting again in
this world has been relinquished for now four and a
half years, yet it is all very well to wait or think
about it ! I was not so upset by dear Uncle James's
death as I should no doubt have been had I enjoyed
the prospect of frequently seeing him. Somehow,
when all ideas of time and space are annihilated by
death, one must think about such separations in a
religious way : for separations in any other sense to
us here, from people in England, have already taken
place. I must except, however, the loving wise
letters, and the power of realising more clearly
perhaps the occupations of those still in the body — of
their accustomed places and duties ; though I suppose
we can tell quite enough about all this in the case of
those who have died in the true faith of Christ to
know, at all events, that we are brought and united to
them whenever we think or do anything religiously.
I often think that this is well brought out in the ' Heir
of Redclyffe ' — the loss of ' the bright outside,' the life
and energy and vigour, and all the companionable
and sociable qualities, contrasted with the power of
thinking oneself into the inner spiritual relations that
exist between the worlds visible and invisible.
All this effort is much diminished in our case.
. There is no very great present loss, at least, it is not
so sensibly felt by a great deal as it would be if we
missed some one with whom we lived up to the time
of his death. It is much easier to think of them as
they are than it could be in the case of persons who
remember so vividly what they so lately zuere ; and
this is why, I suppose, the news of Uncle James's
death seemed to affect me so much less than I should
1 859-] Cofn7mmio7i ivith the Absent 431
have expected, and it may be so again : certain it is
that I loved him dearly, and that I miss his letters
very much indeed ; but I think that the point I felt
most about him was the sad affliction to his family,
and the great loss to my dear father, who had of late
seen more than ever of him.
From the home letter I only quote from the reflec-
tions so regularly inspired by the anniversary of the
28th of November.
After lamenting that it was difficult to realise those
scenes in his mother's illness which he and his brother
only knew from narration, Patteson adds : —
The memory of those days would perhaps have been
more precious to me if I had witnessed more with
my own eyes. And yet of course it really mattered
nothing at all, because the lesson of her life does not
depend on an acquaintance with a few days of it ;
and what I saw when I was there I never have
forgotten, and hope that I never may forget.
And indeed I f^el now with regard to you, my dear
father, that I have not learned to know you better
while I was with you than I do now. I think that in
some ways I enter more almost into your mind and
thought, or that I fancy I do so : just as the present
possession of anything so often prevents our really
taking pains to learn all about it. We rest content
with the superficial knowledge of that which is
most easily perceived and recognised in it. . . .
I think I know from your letters, and from the
fact of my absence from you making me think more
about you, as much about you as those present. I
very much enjoy a letter from Joan, which gives
me a kind of tableau vivant of you all. That helps
me to realize the home life ; so do the photographs,
432 Life of yohu Coleridge Pattcsoji [Ch. viil.
they help in the same way. But your letters, and the
fact that I think so much about them, and about you,
are my real helps.
The voyage ended on the 7th of December. It
was the last made under the guidance of the Bishop of
New Zealand, and, alas ! the last return of the first
' Southern Cross.'
433
CHAPTER IX.
MOT A AND ST. ANDREW'S COLLEGE, KOHIMARAMA.
1859-1863.
With the year i860 a new period, and one far more
responsible and eventful, began. After working for
four years under Bishop Selwyn's superintendence,
Coleridge Patteson was gradually passing into a
sphere of more independent action ; and, though his
loyal allegiance to his Primate was even more of the
heart than of the letter, his time of training was over ;
he was left more to act on his own judgment ; and
things were ripening for his becoming himself a Bishop.
He had nearly completed his thirty-third year, and was
in his fullest strength, mental and bodily ; and, as has
been seen, the idea had already through Bishop
Selwyn's letters become familiar to his family, though
he himself had shrunk from entertaining it.
The first great change regarded the locality of the
Melanesian school in New Zealand. Repeated experi-
ence had shown that St. John's College was too bleak
for creatures used to basking under a vertical sun, and
it had been decided to remove to the sheltered landing
place at Kohimarama, where buildings for the purpose
had been commenced so as to be habitable in time for
the freight of 1859.
It should be explained, that the current expenses of
the Mission had been defrayed by the Eton and
I. F F
434 Life of yohii Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. ix,
Sydney associations, with chance help from persons
privately interested. The extra expense of this
foundation was opportunely met by a discovery on the
part of Sir John Patteson, that his eldest son, living
upon the Merton Fellowship, had cost him 200/. a year
less than his younger son, and therefore that, in his
opinion, 800/. was due to Coleridge. Moreover, the
earlier voyages, and, in especial, the characters of Siapo
and Umao, had been so suggestive of incidents fabri-
cated in the ' Daisy Chain,' that the proceeds of the
book were felt to be the due of the Mission, and at this
time these had grown to such an amount as to make
up the sum needful for erecting such buildings as were
immediately requisite for the intended College.
These are described in the ensuing letter, which
I give entire, because the form of acknowledgment
is the only style suitable to what, however lightly
acquired, was meant as an offering, even though it
cost the giver all too little.
Kohimarama : Dec. 21, 1859.
My dear Cousin, — I have received at length from
my father a distinct statement of what you have
given to the Melanesian Mission. I had heard
rumours before, and the Bishop of Wellington had
spoken to me of your intentions, but the fact had not
been regularly notified to us.
I think I know you too well to say more than this.
May God bless you for what you have lent to Him,
and give us, who are specially connected with the
Mission, grace to use your gift as you intend it to be
used, to His glory in the salvation of souls.
But you will like to hear how your gift will be
appropriated. For three summers the Melanesian
scholars lived at St. John's College, which is situated
on a low hill, from which the ground falls away on
1 859-] '^^^^ ■^'■^y of Kohimarania 435
every side, leaving it exposed to every wind that
blows across and around the narrow isthmus.
Thank God, we had no death traceable to the
effect of the climate, but we had constant anxiety and
a considerable amount of illness. When arrange-
ments were completed for the arrival of a new
principal to succeed the Bishop of Wellington, the
college was no longer likely to be available for the
Mission school. Consequently, we determined to
built on the site long ago agreed upon ; to put up
some substantial buildings, and to remove some of
the wooden buildings at the College which would
not be required there, and set them up again at
Kohimarama.
Just opposite the entrance into the Auckland
harbour, between the island of Rangitoto with its
double peak and the easternmost point of the
northern shore of the harbour, lies a very sheltered
bay, with its sea-frontage of rather more than a quarter
of a mile, bounded to the east, south and west by low
hills, which where they meet the sea become sandy
cliffs, fringed with the red-flower-bearing pohutakawa.
The whole of this bay, the seventy acres of flat rich
soil included within the rising ground mentioned, and
some seventy acres more as yet lying uncleared,
adjoining the same block of seventy acres, and likely
to be very valuable, as the land is capitable — the
whole of this was bought by the Bishop many years
ago as the property of the Mission, and is the only
piece of Church land over which he retains the con-
trol, every other bequest or gift to the amount of
14,000 acres, having been handed over by him to
the General Synod. This he retains till the state of
the Melanesian Mission is more definitely settled.
On the west corner of this bay we determined to
F F 2
43 '5 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
build, A small tide creek runs for a short way
about S.S.E. from the extreme end of the western
part of the beach, then turns early eastward, and
meets a small stream coming down from the southern
hill at its western extremity. This creek encloses a
space extending along the whole width of the bay of
about eighteen or twenty acres.
At the east end stand three wooden cottages,
occupied by the master, mate, and a married seaman
of the ' Southern Cross.' At the west end stands
the Melanesian school. Fences divide the whole
space into three portions, whereof the western one
forms our garden and orchard ; and the others pas-
ture for cows and working bullocks ; small gardens
being also fenced off for the three cottages. The
fifty acres of fiat land south of the creek we are now
clearing and ploughing.
The situation here is admirably adapted for our
school. Now that we have a solid wall of the scoriae
from the volcanic island opposite, we have a complete
shelter from the cold south wind. The cliff and
hill to the west entirely shut off the wind from that
quarter, and the north and east winds are always
warm. The soil is very dry, and the beach com-
posed exclusively of small * pipi ' shells — small
bivalves. So that by putting many cart-loads of
these under our wooden fioors, and around our
buildings, we have so perfect a drainage that after
heavy rain the soil is quite dry again in a few hours.
It causes me no anxiety now, when I am for an hour
away from my fiock, to be thinking whether they are
lying on the ground, forgetting that the hot sun
overhead does not destroy the bad effect of a
damp clay soil such as that at St. John's College.
The buildings at present form three sides of a
1 859-] College Buildings 437
quadrangle, but the south side is only partly filled
up. The large schoolroom, eighty feet long, with
three sets of transepts, has been removed from the
College, and put up again so as to form the east
side of the quadrangle. This is of wood ; so is the
small wooden quadrangle which serves now for
dormitories, and a part of which I occupy ; my
house consisting of three little rooms, together
measuring seventeen feet by seven. These dormi-
tories are the southern side of the quadrangle, but
do not reach more than half way from the east to the
west side, room being left for another set of dormi-
tories of equal size, when we want them and can
afford' them. The west side consists of a very nice
set of stone buildings, including a large kitchen, store
room, and room for puttings things in daily and
immediate use ; and the hall, which is the northern
part of the side of the quadrangle, is a really
handsome room, with simple open roof and windows
of a familiar collegiate appearance. These buildings
are of the dark grey scoria, almost imperishable
I suppose, and look very well. The hall is just long
enough to take seven of us at the high table (so to
speak), and thirty-four at the long table, stretching
from the high table to the end of the room.
At present this is used for school also, as the car-
penters who are making all our fittings, shelves, &c.,
are still in the large schoolroom. We take off the
north end of the schoolroom, including one set of
transepts for our temporary chapel. This part will
be lined, i.e. boarded, neatly inside. The rest of
the building is very rough, but it answers its
purpose.
In all the stone buildings, the rough stone is left
inside just as it is outside. It does not look bad at
43^ Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
all to my eye, and I doubt if I would have it lined
if we had funds to pay for it.
I hope eventually that stone buildings will take
the place of the present wooden schoolroom and
dormitories ; but this ought to last many years.
Here we live most happily and comfortably. The
climate almost tropical in summer. The beautiful
scenery of the harbour before our eyes, the smooth
sea and clean dry beach within a stone's throw of
my window. The lads and young men have their
fishing, bathing, boating, and basking in the sun,
which all day from sunrise to sunset beats right
upon us ; for the west cliff does not project more
than a few yards to the north of us, and the eastern
boundary is low and some way off. I see the little
schooner at her moorings whenever I look off my
book or my paper, and with an opera-glass can see
the captain caulking the decks. All is under my
eyes ; and the lads daily say, ' College too cold ;
Kohimarama very good ; all the same Bauro, Mota,'
&c., as the sj^eaker belongs to one or other of our
fourteen islands represented. . . . The moment we
heard of your gift, we said simultaneously, ' Let it be
given to this or to some specific and definite object.'
I think you will like to feel not only that the money
came most opportunely, but that within the walls
built with that money, many many hundreds, I trust,
of these Milanesian islanders will be fed and taught,
and trained up in the knowledge and fear of
God. . . .
Your affectionate Cousin,
J. C. Patteson.
Before the old year was out came the tidings of the
death of good Miss Neill, the governess whom Patteson
1859.] Lack of Pop7i lav Anecdote 439
had so faithfully loved from early childhood, and whose
years of suffering he had done his best to cheer. ' At
rest at last' In the same letter, in answer to some
complaint from his sister of want of detail in the
reports, he says : — ' Am I trying to make my life
common-place ? Well, really so it is more or less
to me. Things go on in a kind of routine. Two
voyages a year, five months in New Zealand, though
certainly two-thirds of my flock fresh every year.
I suppose it still sounds strange to you sometimes,
and to others always, but they should try to think
for themselves about our circumstances.
' And you know, Fan, I can't write for the world
at large anecdotes of missionary life, and swell the
number of the " Gems " and other trashy books. If
people who care to know, would think of what their
own intuition tells them of human nature, and
history tells them of heathenism, they can make out
some notion of real missionary work.
' The school is the real work. Teaching adults to
read a strange tongue is hard work ; I have little
doubt but that the Bishop is right in saying they
must be taught English ; but it is so very difficult a
language, not spelt a bit as pronounced ; and their
language is all vocalic and so easy to put into
writing.
* But if you like I will scatter anecdotes about — of
how the Bishop and his chaplain took headers hand
in hand off the schooner and roundhouse ; and how
the Bishop got knocked over at Leper's Island by a
big wave ; and how I borrowed a canoe at Tariko
and paddled out yams as fast as the Bishop brought
them to our boat, &c. — but this is rubbish.'
This letter is an instance of the reserve and reticence
440 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
which Mr. Patteson felt so strongly with regard to his
adventures and pupils. He could not endure stories
of them to become, as it were, stock for exciting interest
at home. There was something in his nature that
shrank from publishing accounts of individual pupils
as a breach of confidence, as much, or perhaps even
more, than if they had been English people, likely to
know what had been done. Moreover, instances had
come to his knowledge in which harm had been done
to both teachers and taught by their becoming aware
that they were shown off to the public in print. Such
things had happened even where they would have
seemed not only unlikely, but impossible ; and this
rendered him particularly cautious in writing of his
work, so that his reports were often dry, while he in-
sisted strongly on his letters to his family being kept
private.
The actual undertakings of the Mission did not
exceed its resources, so that there was no need for
those urgent appeals which call for sensation and in-
cident to back them ; and thus there sometimes
seemed to the exterior world to be alack of information
about the Mission.
The letters of January i860 show how the lads
were fortified against weather : — ' They wear a long
flannel waistcoat, then a kind of jersey-shaped thing,
with short trousers, reaching a little below the knee,
for they dabble about like ducks here, the sea being
not a hundred yards from the building. All the
washing, of course, and most of the clothes-making
they can do themselves ; I can cut out after a fashion,
and they take quickly to needle and thread ; but now
the Auckland ladies have provided divers very nice
garments, their Sunday dresses are very nice indeed.'
The question of the Bishopric began to come
i86o.] Conversation 07i the Bishopric 441
forward. On the iSth of January, a letter to Sir
John Patteson, after speaking of a playful allusion
which introduced the subject, details how Mrs. Selwyn
had disclosed that a letter had actually been despatched
to the Duke of Newcastle, then Colonial Secretary,
asking permission to appoint and consecrate John
Coleridge Patteson as Missionary Bishop of the
Western Pacific Isles.
J . C. P. — Well, then, I must say what I feel about
it. I have known for some time that this was
not unlikely to come some day ; but I never spoke
seriously to you or to the Martins when you insinu-
ated these things, because I thought if I took it up
gravely it would come to be considered a settled
thing.
Mrs. S. — Well, so it has been, and is
y . C. p. — But has the Bishop seriously thought of
this, that he has had no trial of any other man ; that
I could give any other man who may come, perhaps,
the full benefit of my knowledge of languages, and
of my acquaintance with the islands and the people,
while we may reasonably expect some one to come
out before long far better fitted to organise and lead
men than I am ? Has he fairly looked at all the per
contra ?
Mrs. S. — I feel sure he has.
y . C. p. — I don't deny that my father tells me
I must not shrink from it ; that some things seem to
point to it as natural ; that I must not venture to think
that I can be as complete a judge as the Bishop of
what is good for Melanesia — but what necessity for
acting now ?
Here came an interruption, but the conversation was
renewed later in the day with the Bishop himself, when
442 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Patteson pleaded for delay on the score that the isles
were as yet in a state in which a missionary chaplain
could do all that was requisite, and that the real
management ought not to be withdrawn from the
Bishop ; to which the reply was that at the present time
the Bishop could do much to secure such an appoint-
ment as he wished ; but, in case of his death, even
wishes expressed in writing might be disregarded.
After this, the outpouring to the father continues : —
I don't mean to shrink from this. You tell me that
I ought not to do so, and I quite believe it. I
know that no one can judge better than you can as
to the general question, and the Bishop is as com-
petent to decide on the special requirements of the
case.
But, my dear father, you can hardly tell how
difficult I find it to be, amidst all the multiplicity of
works, a man of devotional prayerful habits ; how I
find from time to time that I wake up to the fact that
while I am doing more than I did in old times, yet
that I pray less. How often I think that ' God
gives ' habitually to the Bishop ' all that sail with
him ;' that the work is prospering in his hands ; but
will it prosper in mine } I know He can use any
instrument to His glory : I know that, and that He
will not let my sins and shortcomings hinder His
projects of love and blessing to these Melanesian
islanders ; but as far as purity of motive, and a
spirit of prayer and self-denial do go for anything in
making up the qualification on the human side for
such an office — in so far, do they exist in me ? You
will say I am over sensitive and expect too much.
That, I think, very likely maybe true. It is useless
to wait till one becomes really fit, for that of course
i86o.] Misgivings 443
I never shall be. But while I believe most entirely
that grace does now supply all our deficiencies when
we seek it fully, I do feel frightened when I see that
I do not become more prayerful, more real in
communion with God. This is what I must pray
earnestly : to become more prayerful, more constantly
impressed with the necessity of seeking for every-
thing from Him.
You all think that absence from relations, living
upon yams, want of the same kind of meat and drink
that I had at home, that these things are proofs of
sincerity, &c. 1 believe that they all mean just
nothing when the practical result does not come to
this — that a man is walking more closely with his God.
I dare not say that I can feel humbly and reverently
that my inner life is progressing. I don't think that
I am as earnest in prayer as I was. Whether it
be the effect of the amount of work distracting me ;
or, sometimes, of physical weariness, or of the self-
indulgence (laugh as you may) which results from my
never being contradicted or interfered with, or much
worried, still I do feel this ; and may He strengthen
me to pray more for a spirit of prayer.
I don't know that the actual time for my being
consecrated, if I live, is nearer by reason of this
letter ; I think it most probable that it may take place
when the General Synod meets, and, consequently,
five Bishops will be present, in 1862, at Nelson.
But I suppose it is more fixed than it has been
hitherto, and if the Bishop writes to you, as he may
do, even more plainly than he speaks to me, you will
know what especially to ask for me from God, and
all you dear ones will recollect daily how I do
inwardly tremble at the thoughts of what is to come.
Do you remember how strangely I was upset before
444 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix
leaving home for my ordination as a deacon ; and now
it is coming to this — a church to be planted, organ-
ised, edified among the wild heathen inhabitants of
Melanesia ; and what hope can there be for me if there
is to be no growth of a fervent, thankful, humble
spirit of prayer and love and adoration ? Not that, as
I feel to my great comfort, God's work is dependent
upon the individual growth in grace even of those
who are entrusted with any given work ; but it is in
some way connected with it.
And yet, the upshot of it all is that I shall do (D. V.)
what the Bishop tells me is right. I hope he won't
press on the matter, but I am content now to leave
it with him, knowing what you have said, and being
so thankful to leave it with you and him.
There is a letter to his sister Fanny of the same
date, beginning merrily about the family expostulation
on receiving a box of reports where curiosities had
been expected.
Fancy not thinking your worthy brother's important
publications the most satisfactory treasures that
any box could contain ! The author's feelings are
seriously injured ! What are Melanesian shells to
Melanesian statistics, and Lifu spears to a dissertation
on the treatment of Lifu diseases ? Great is the
ingratitude of the houses of Feniton and Dawlish !
Well, it must have been rather a 'sell,' as at Eton
it is called, to have seen the long-desired and highly-
paid-for box disgorge nought but Melanesian reports !
all thanks to Mrs. Martin, who packed it after I
was off to the Islands.
I cannot send you anything yet, but I will bear in
mind the fact that reports by themselves are not
considered satisfactory. Docs anybody read them.
i86o.] Reports 445
after all ? for they really cost me some days' trouble^
which I can't find time for again. This year's report
(for I suppose there must be one) is not begun, and
I don't know what to put in it. I have but little
news beyond what I have written once for all to
Father.
The decisive letter from the Bishop of New Zea-
land to the Duke of Newcastle is in the Governor's
hands, and all discussion of the question is at an
end. May God bring out of it all that may conduce
to His glory ; but how I dread what is to come, you,
who remember my leaving home first for my deacon's
ordination, can well imagine.
It is true I have seen this coming for a year or
two, and have seen no way of preventing its coming
upon me — no one else has come out ; the Bishop feels
he cannot work his present diocese and Melanesia ;
he is satisfied that he ought to take New Zealand
rather than the islands ; that the time has come for
settling the matter while he is able to settle it ; and I
had nothing to say, for all personal objections he
overruled. So then, if I live, it is settled ; and that,
at all events, is a comfort Many of my
Melanesians have heavy coughs — some twelve, but
I don't think any of them seriously ill, only needing
to be watched. I am very well, only I want some
more exercise (which, by the by, it is always in my
power to take), and am quite as much disposed as
ever to wish for a good game at tennis or fives to
take it out of me.
Your loving Brother,
J. C. Patteson.
The birthday letter of February 1 1 is a happy one,
though chiefiy taken up with the business matters
44^ Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesoii [Ch. ix.
respecting the money required for the Mission, of
which Sir John was one trustee. Life was pleasant
then, for Patteson says : —
I do feel sometimes that the living alone has its
temptations, and those great ones ; I mean that I can
arrange everything — my work, my hours, my whole
life — after my own pleasure a great deal more than
probably is good for me ; and it is very easy to be-
come, in a manner, very self-indulgent. I think that
most likely, as our work (D.V.) progresses, one or
two men may be living with me, and that will
supply a check upon me of some kind. At present
I am too much without it. Here I am in my cosy
little room, after my delicious breakfast of perfect
coffee, made in Jem's contrivance, hot milk and
plenty of it, dry toast and potato. Missionary hard-
ships ! On the grass between me and the beach — a
distance of some seventy yards — lie the boys' canvas
beds- and blankets and rugs, having a good airing.
The schooner lies at anchor beyond ; and, three or
four miles beyond the schooner, lies Rangitoto, the
great natural breakwater to the harbour. With my
Dollond's opera-glass that you gave me, I can see
the master and mate at their work refitting. Every-
thing is under my eye. Our long boat and whale
boat (so called from their shapes) lie on the beach,
covered with old sails to protect them from the sun.
The lads are washing clothes, or scrubbing their
rooms, and all the rooms — kitchen, hall, store-room,
and school-room. There is a good south-western
breeze stirring — our cold wind ; but it is shut off
here, and scarcely reaches us, and the sun has great
power.
I have the jollicst little fellows this time — about
i86o.] Modern Lttxtcry 447
seven of them — fellows scarcely too big to take
on my knee, and talk to about God, and Heaven,
and Jesus Christ; and I feel almost as if I had a
kind of instinct of love towards them, as they look
up wonderingly with their deep deep eyes, and
smooth and glossy skins, and warm soft cheeks, and
ask their simple questions. I wish you could have
seen the twenty Banks Islanders as I told them that
most excellent of all tales — the story of Joseph.
How their eyes glistened ! and they pushed out
their heads to hear the sequel of his making himself
known to his brethren, and asking once more about
' the old man of whom ye spake, is he yet alive ? '
I can never read it with a steady voice, nor tell it
either.
Sir John had thus replied to the tirade against
English conventional luxury : —
The conventional notions in this old country are not
always suited to your country, and I quite agree
that even here they are carried too far. Yet there
are other people than the needy whose souls are
entrusted to the clergy here, and in order to fulfil
that trust they must mix on some degree of equality
with the gentry, and with the middle classes who are
well to do. Then, again, consider both as to clergy
and laity here. If they were all to lower themselves
a peg or two, and give up many not only luxuries,
but comforts, numbers of tradesmen, and others
working under them, ay, even merchants, manu-
facturers, and commercial men of all sorts, would be
to some extent thrown out of employ. The artificial
and even luxurious state of society here does really
prevent many persons from falling into the class of
the needy. All this should be regulated in its due
448 Life of John Coleridge Pattesoii [ch. ix.
proportion. Every man ought so to limit his ex-
penses as to have a good margin for charitable pur-
poses of all sorts, but I cannot think that he is doing
good by living himself like a pauper in order to assist
paupers. If all men did so, labour of all kinds would
be overstocked with hands, and more paupers created.
True it is, that we all are too apt as means increase,
some to set our hearts upon them, which is wicked-
ness ; some to indulge in over much luxury, which
is wicked also ; there should be moderation in all
things. I believe that more money is given in private
charities of various kinds in helping those who are
struggling with small means, and yet not apparently
in the class of the needy, than the world is aware of ;
and those who do the most are precisely those who
are never heard of. But do not mistake me, I am
no advocate for luxury and idle expenditure. Yet I
think you carry your argument a little farther than
is just. The impositions that are practised, or at-
tempted to be practised, upon charitable people are
beyond all conception.
The following is the answer : —
April 23, i860.
My dearest Father, — Thank you for writing your views
about luxuries, extravagant expenditure, and the
like. I see at once the truth of what you say.
What I really mean is something of this kind. A
high degree of civilization seems to generate (perhaps
necessarily) a state of society wherein the natural
desires of people to gratify their inclinations in
all directions, conjoined with the power of paying
highly for the gratification of such inclinations, tends
to call forth the ingenuity of the working class in
meeting such inclinations in all agreeable ways. So
i86o.] English Difficulties 449
sprlng-s up a complicated mechanism, by which a
habit of Hfe altogether unnecessary for health and
security of life and property is introduced and
becomes naturalised among a people.
If this is the necessary consequence of the dis-
tinction between rich and poor, and the course
of civilisation imist result in luxury and poverty
among the two classes respectively {and this seems
to be so), it is, of course, still more evident that the
state of society being once established gradually,
through a long course of years, no change can
subsequently be introduced excepting in one way.
It is still in the power of individuals to act upon
the community by their example — e.g., the early
Christians, though only for a short time, showed the
result of the practical acceptance of the Lord's
teaching in its effect upon society. Rich and poor,
comparatively speaking, met each other half way.
The rich man sold his possessions, and equal dis-
tribution was made to the poor.
All that I contend for is that, seeing the fearful
deterioration, and no less fearful extravagance, of a
civilised country, the evil is one which calls loudly
for careful investio-ation. Thousands of artisans and
labourers who contribute nothing to the substantial
wealth of the country, and nothing towards the
production of its means of subsistence, would be
thrown out of employment, and therefore that plan
would be wrong. Jewellers, &c., &c., all kinds of
fellows who simply manufacture vanities, are just as
honest and good men as others, and it is not their
fault, but the fault (if it be one at all) of civilisation
that they exist. But I don't see why, the evil being
recognised, some comprehensive scheme of colonisa-
tion might not be adopted by the rulers of a Christian
i. G G
450 Life of JoJm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
land, to empty our poor-houses, and draft off the
surphis population, giving to the utterly destitute the
prospect of health, and renewed hopes and success
in another thinly-inhabited country, and securing for
those who remain behind a more liberal remunera-
tion for their work by the comparative absence of
competition.
Yet this, of course, is altogether opposed to the
political economists of the day.
And yet, what are we, for example, in England to
come to ? A hot-headed, clever man like Bright is
really able to exercise great influence on the people,
because they have a greater amount of real misery
than they can bear.
The present state of ' strikes ' is not a thing
surely to be disregarded. The men may be unrea-
sonable, their coalitions immoral, and cruel towards
others in their conduct, yet the story is plainly told
of the want of sympathy between master and man,
of the effect produced by the sight of disproportionate
distribution of wealth and property.
I should like to see colonisation fairly tried ; but
there are endless difficulties, I know, and not the least
that the settlers already out in the given colony, and
claiming the right of governing it, would be jealous
and exclusive, and drive up the new comers into
corners, &c. It must be done by the Imperial
Government, if at all. And then, who can be found
competent to carry out the working of any system
into detail ? Every way it is difficult ; and then
comes a noble-hearted millionaire, like that Mr.
Akroyd, of whom I have just been reading, and
teaches one, after all, that money used aright becomes
a friend ; and that the disproportionate distribution
to different men is necessary in God's providence for
the formation of the Christian graces of charity and
i86o.] Simeoiids Illness 45^
patience, &c. I suppose mine is just a human view
of the whole thing-, as so many politico-economical
schemes are. And yet strong words are wanted to
urge upon individuals, at all events, and so upon the
community, if we could only reach each individual,
the danger of luxury and the duty of self-denial.
I hardly know what to write to you, my dear
Father, about this new symptom of illness. I
suppose, from what you say, that at your time of
life the disease being so mild in its form now, will
hardly prove dangerous to you, especially as you
submit at once to a strictness of diet which must be
pretty hard to follow out — just the habit of a whole
life to be given up ; and I know that to forego any-
thing that I like, in matters of eating and drinking,
wants an effort that I feel ashamed of being obliged
to make. I don't, therefore, make myself unneces-
sarily anxious, though I can't help feeling that such
a discipline must be hard. You say that in other
respects you are much the same ; but that means
that you are in almost constant pain, and that you
cannot obtain entire relief from it, except in bed.
Still, my dear Father, as you do bear it all, how
can we wish that God should spare you one trial or
infirmity, which, we know, are in His providence,
making you daily riper and riper for Heaven ? I
ought not to write to you like this, but somehow
the idea of our ever meeting anywhere else has so
entirely passed from my mind, that I try to view
things with reference to His ultimate purpose and
work.
Your loving and dutiful Son,
J. C. Patteson.
The most present trouble of this summer was the
sickness of Simeona. The account of him on Ash
G G 2
452 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Wednesday is : — ' He is dying of consumption slowly,
and viay go back with us two months hence, but I
doubt it. Poor fellow, he makes the worst of his
case, and is often discontented and thinks himself
aggrieved because we cannot derange the whole plan
of the school economy for him. I have everything
which is good for him, every little dainty, and every-
one is most kind ; but when it comes to a complaint
because one pupil-teacher is not set apart to sit with
him all day, and another to catch him fish, of course
I tell him that it would be wrong to grant what is
so unreasonable. Some one or other of the most
stupid of the boys catches his fish just as well as a
pupil-teacher, and he is quite able to sit up and read
for two or three hours a day, and would only be in-
jured by having another lad in the room on purpose
to be the receptacle of all his moans and complaints,
yet I know, poor fellow ! it is much owing to the
disease upon him.'
In spite of his fretfulness and exactions, the young
man, meeting not with spoiling, but with true kind-
ness, responded to the touch. Lady Martin tells
us : — ' I shall never forget dear Mr. Patteson's
thankfulness when, after a long season of reserve, he
opened his heart to him, and told him how, step by
step, this sinfulness of sin had been brought home
to him. He knew he had done wrong in his
heathen boyhood, but had put away such deeds
when he was baptized, and had almost forgotten the
past, or looked on it as part of heathenism. But
in his illness, tended daily and hourly by our dear
friend, his conscience had become very tender.
He died in great peace.'
I lis death is mentioned in the followinof letter to Sir
John Coleridge : —
iS6o.] Death of Simeona 453
March 26, i860.
(This day 5 years I left home.
It was a Black Monday indeed).
My dear Uncle, — . . . At three this morning died one
of my old scholars, by name George Selwyn Simeona,
from Nengone. He was here for his third time ; for
two years a regular communicant, having received
a good deal of teaching before I knew him. He
was baptized three years ago. I did not wish to
bring him this time, for it was evident that he could
not live long when we met last at Nengone, and
I told him that he had better not come with us ;
but he said, ' Heaven was no farther from New
Zealand than from Nengone ; ' and when we had
pulled some little way from shore, he ran down the
beach, and made us return to take him in. Gradual
decline and chronic bronchitis wore him to a
skeleton. On Thursday the Bishop and I adminis-
tered the Holy Eucharist to him ; and he died at
3 A.M. to-day, with his hand in mine, as I was in
the act of commending his soul to God. His wife,
a sweet good girl, one of Mrs. Selwyn's pupils from
Nengone in old times, died last year. They leave
one boy of three years, whom I hope to get hold of
entirely, and as it were adopt him.
The clear bright moon was right over my head
as, after a while, and after prayer with his friends,
I left his room ; the quiet splash of the tiny waves
on our sheltered shore, and the little schooner at
her anchorage : and I thanked God that one more
spirit from among the Melanesian islanders was
gone to dwell, we trust, with Jesus Christ in
Paradise.
He will not be much missed in the Melanesian
454 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. IX.
school work, for, for months, he could not make one
of us. . . .
I find Trench's Notes- on the Authorised Version
of the New Testament very useful, chiefly as help-
ing one to acquire a habit of accurate criticism for
oneself, and when we come (D.V.) to translate any
portion of the Scriptures, of course such books are
very valuable.
Last mail brought me but a very few letters.
The account of my dear Father's being obliged to
submit to discipline did not alarm me, though I know
the nature of the disease, and that his father died of
it. It seems in his case likely to be kept under,
but (as I have said before) I cannot feel uneasy and
anxious about him, be the accounts what they may.
It is partly selfish, for I am spared the sight of his
suffering, but then I do long for a look at his dear
face and for the sound of his voice. Five years of
absence has of course made so much change in my
mind in this respect, that I do not now find myself
dreaming of home, constantly thinking of it ; the first
freshness of my loss is not felt now. But I think I
love them all and you all better than ever ; and I
trust that I am lookinor inward on the whole to the
blessedness of our meeting hereafter.
But this work has its peculiar dangers. A man
may become so familiarised with the habits of the
heathen that insensibly his conscience becomes less
sensitive.
There is a danger in living in the midst of utter
lawlessness and violence ; and though the blessings
and privileges far excel the disadvantages, yet it is
not in every way calculated to help one forward, as
I think I have in some ways found by experience.
Well, this is all dull and dry. But our life is some-
i86o.] DeparttLve for the Isles 455
what monotonous on shore, varied only by the de-
tails of incidents occurring in school, and witness-
ing to the growth of the minds of my flock. They
are a very intelligent set this year, and there are
many hopeful ones among them. We have worked
them hard at English, and all can read a little ; and
some eight or ten really read nicely, but then they
do not understand nearly all they read without an
explanation, just like an English boy beginning his
knowledge of letters with Latin (or French, a still
spoken language).
In about a month we shall (D.V.) start to
take them back ; but the vessel will be absent but a
short time, as I shall keep the Solomon Islanders
with me in the Banks archipelago for the winter, and
so avoid the necessity of the schooner running 200
or 300 miles to leeward and having to make it up
again. I have slept ashore twice in the Banks
Islands, but no other white man has done so, and
that makes our course very clear, as they have none
of the injuries usually committed by traders, &c., to
revenge.
Good-bye once more, my dearest Uncle,
Your affectionate and grateful Nephew,
J. C Patteson.
The calmness of mind respecting his father which
is here spoken of was not perpetual, and his grief broke
out at times in talks with his young friend and com-
panion, Mr. Dudley, as appears by this extract : —
I remember his talking to me more than once on
the subject of his father, and especially his remark-
ing on one occasion that his friends were pressing
him to come out there oftener, and suggesting, when
he seemed out of health and spirits, that he was not
456 Life of John Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. ix.
taking care of himself; but that it was the anguish
he enckired, as night after night he lay awake
thinking of his father gradually sinking and craving
for him, and cheerfully resigning him, that really told
upon him. I know that I obtained then a glimpse
of an affection and a depth of sorrow such as per-
fectly awed me, and I do not think I have witnessed
anything like it at all, either before or since. It
was then that he seemed to enter into the full
meaning of those words of our Lord, in St. Mark x.
29-30, i.e., into all that the 'leaving' there spoken
of involved.
Yet in spite of this anxiety there was no flinching
from the three months' residence at Mota, entirely out
of reach of letters. A frame house, with planks for
the floor, was prepared at Auckland to be taken out,
and a stock of wine, provisions and medicines laid in.
The Rev. B. Y. Ashwell, a New Zealand clergyman,
joined the Mission party as a guest, with two Maori
youths, one the son of a Deacon ; and, besides Mr.
Dudley, another pupil, Mr. Thomas Kerr, was begin-
ning his training for service in the Mission. Sailing
on one of the last days of April, there was a long
passage to Nengone, where the party went ashore,
and found everything in trouble, the French constantly
expected, and the chiefs entreating for a missionary
from the Bishop, and no possibility of supplying them.
Lifu was rendered inaccessible by foul winds.
* Much to my sorrow,' writes Mr. Patteson, * I could
not land my two pupil-teachers, who, of course,
wished to see their friends, and who made me more
desirous to give them a run on shore by saying at
once : " Don't think of us, it is not safe to go." But
I thought of what my feelings would be if it were
i86o.] Last Voyage of the 'Southern d^oss' 457
the Devonshire coast, somewhere about Sidmouth
and no landing ! ' However, they, as well as the three
Nengonese, Wadrokala, Harper Malo, and Martin
Tahia, went on contentedly.
Off Mai, May i()th. — Mr. Kerr has been busy,
taking bearings, &c., for the purpose of improving
our MS. chart, and some day constructing a new
one. Commodore Loring wanted me to tell him
all about Port Patteson, and asked me if I wished a
man-of-war to be sent down this winter to see me,
supposing the New Zealand troubles to be over. I
gave him all the information he w^anted, told him
that I did not want a vessel to come with the idea
of any protection being required, but that a man-of-
war coming with the intention of supporting the
Mission, and giving help, and not coming to treat
the natives in an off-hand manner, might do good.
I did not speak coldly ; but really I fear what
mischief even a few wildish fellows might do on
shore among such people as those of the Banks
Islands !
A fore-and-aft schooner in sight ! Probably some
trader. May be a schooner which I heard the
French had brought for missionary purposes. What
if we find a priest or two at Port Patteson ! How-
ever, my course is clear any way : work straight on.
May 2ist.- — Schooner a false alarm. We had a
very interesting visit on Saturday afternoon at Mai.
We could not land till 4 p.m. : walked at once to the
village, a mile and a half inland ; after some excite-
ment caused by our appearance, the people rushing
to welcome us. We got them to be quiet and to
sit down. I stood up, and gave them a sermonette.
458 Life of John Coleridge Pattesojt [ch. ix.
then made Dudley, who speaks good Mai, say some-
thing. Then we knelt down, and I said the second
Good Friday Collect, inserted a few petitions which
you can imagine any one would do at such a time,
then a simple prayer in their language, the Lord's
Prayer in English, and the Grace.
At Aurora a short address was also given, which
had been composed, with the help of Lidi, the scholar
from thence ; but the people were much more en-
grossed by the hope of fish-hooks, and the chief hope
was that Lidi might tell them what might prepare
them to pay more attention another time. Like the
Banks Islanders, whose language resembled theirs,
they wore no garments nor ornaments ; moreover,
there was a large proportion of albinos among them.
The same day a ten minutes' discourse was made
at Mua Lava to some 150 people, who listened
readily.
On Friday Mota was reached, and the people
showed great delight when the frame of the house
was landed at the site purchased for a number of
hatchets and other goods, so that it is the absolute
property of the Mission. Saturday was spent in a
visit to Port Patteson, where the people thronged,
while the water-casks were being filled, and bamboos
cut down, with entreaties that the station might be
there ; and the mosquitoes thronged too — Mr. Patteson
had fifty-eight bites on one foot.
On Whit Sunday, after Ploly Communion on board,
the party went on shore, and prayed foi-, ' I cannot
say with, ' the people of Vanua Lava.
And on Whit Monday the house was set up ' in a
most lovely spot,' says Mr. Dudley, ' beneath the shade
i36o.] First Home in jVIelanesia 459
of a gigantic banyan tree, the trunk and one long
horizontal branch of which formed two sides of as
beautiful a picture as you would wish to look upon ;
the sloping bank, with its cocoa-nut, bread-fruit, and
other trees, forming the base of the picture ; and the
coral beach, the deep, clear, blue tropical ocean, with
others of the Banks Islands, Valua, Matlavo, and
Uvaparapara, in the distance, forming the picture
itself.'
At least a hundred natives came to help, pulling
down materials from their own houses to make the
roof, and delighted to obtain a bit of iron, or still better
of broken glass, to shave with. In the afternoon, the
master of the said house, using a box for a desk, wrote :
' Our little house will, I think, be finished to-night ;
anyhow we can sleep in it, if the walls are but half
ready ; they are merely bamboo canes tied together.
We sleep on the floor, boarded and well raised on
poles, two feet and more from the ground — beds are
superfluous here.'
Here then was the first stake of the Church's
tabernacle planted in all Melanesia !
The boards of the floor had been brought from
New Zealand, the heavy posts on which the plates
were laid were cut in Vanua Lava, and the thatch was
of cocoa-nut leaves, the leaflets ingeniously bound
together, native fashion, and quite waterproof; but a
mat or piece of canvas had to be nailed within the
bamboo walls to keep out the rain.
On Wednesday a short service was held, the first
ever known in Mota ; and then Mr. Ashwell and Mr.
Kerr embarked, leaving Mr, Patteson and Mr. Dudley
with their twelve pupils in possession. Mr. Dudley
had skill to turn their resources to advantage. Space
460 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
was gained below by making a frame, to which knap-
sacks, bags, &€., could be hung up, and the floor was
only occupied by the four boxes, which did the further
part of tables, desks and chairs in turn. As to beds,
was not the whole floor before them ? and, observes
the Journal : ' Now I saw the advantage of having
brought planks from New Zealand to make a floor.
We all had some thing level to lie on at night, and
when you are tired enough, a good smooth plank or a
box does just as well as a mattress.'
Fresh water was half a mile off, and had to be
fetched in bamboos ; but this was a great improvement
upon Lifu, where there was none at all ; and a store of
it was always kept in four twenty gallon casks, three
on the beach, and one close to the house.
The place was regularly purchased : —
June '^th. — I have just bought for the Mission this
small clearing of half an acre, and the two acres (say)
leading to the sea, with twenty or more bread-fruits
on it. There was a long talk with the people, and
some difficulty in finding out the real proprietors, but
I think we arranged matters really well at last. You
would have been amused at the solemnity with which
I conducted the proceeding : making a great show
of writing down their names, and bringing each one
of the owners up in their turn to see his name put
down, and making him touch my pen as I put a
cross against his name. Having spent about an
hour in enquiring whether any other person had any
claim on the land or trees, I then said, ' Now this
all b(;longs to me,' and they assented. I entered it
in my books — ' On behalf of the Melanesian Mission,'
but they could only understand that the land belonged
to the Bishop and me, because we wanted a place
where some people might live, who should be placed
i86o.] Idol Ceremonies 461
by the Bishop to teach them. Of course the pro-
ceeding has no real vahdity, but I think they will
observe the contract : not quite the same thing as
the transfer of land in the old country ! Here about
1 20 men, quite naked, represented the interests of
the late owners, and Dudley and I represented the
Mission.
The days were thus laid out — Morning school in
the village, first with the regular scholars, then with
any one who liked to come in ; and then, when the
weather permitted, a visit to some village, sometimes
walking all round, a circuit of ten miles, but generally
each of the two taking a separate village, talking to
the people, teaching them from cards, and encourag-
ing interrogatories. Mr. Patteson always had such an
attraction for them that they would throng round him
eagerly wherever he went.
The Mota people had a certain faith of their own :
they believed in a supreme god called Ikpat, who had
many brothers, one of whom was something like Loki,
in the Northern mythology, always tricking him.
Ikpat had disappeared in a ship, taking the best of
everything with him. It was also believed that the
spirits of the dead survived and ranged about at night,
maddening all who chanced to meet them ; and, like
many other darkly coloured people, the Motans had
begun by supposing their white visitors to be the
ghosts of their deceased friends come to revisit them.
There were a good many other superstitions be-
sides ; and a ceremony connected with one of them
was going on the second week of the residence at
Mota — apparently a sort of freemasonry, into which
all boys of a certain age were to be initiated.
The Journal says : —
462 Life of yohn Cole7ndgePatteson [Ch. ix.
There is some strange superstitious ceremony going
on at this village. A space had been enclosed
by a high hedge, and some eighteen or nineteen
youths are spending a month or more inside the
fence, in a house where they lie wrapped up in mats,
abundantly supplied with food by the people, who,
from time to time, assemble to sing or perform
divers rites. I had a good deal of trouble with the
father of our second year's pupil Tagalana, who
insisted upon sending his son thither. I warned
him against the consequences of hindering his son,
who wished to follow Christ. He yielded, because
he was evidently afraid of me, but not convinced,
as I have no right to expect he should be.
The next mornino- comes an old fellow, and
plants a red-flowering branch in our small clearing,
whereupon our Mota boys go away, not wishing to
go, but not daring to stay. No people came near
us, but by-and-by comes the man who had planted
it, with whom I had much talk, which ended in his
pulling up and throwing away the branch, and in
the return of our boys.
In the evening many people came, to whom I
spoke very plainly about the necessity of abandon-
ing these customs if they were in earnest in saying
they wished to embrace the Word of God. On
Sunday they gave up their singing at the enclosure,
or only attempted it in a very small way.
ftinc 6tk. — I am just returned from a village a
mile and a half off, called Tasmate, where one of
their religious ceremonies took place this morning.
The village contains upwards of twenty houses,
built at the edge of the bush, which consists here
almost exclusively of fruit-bearing trees — cocoa-nut
trees, bananas, bread-fruit, and large almond trees
i86o.] Stiperstitions 463
are everywhere the most conspicuous. The sea view
looking- south is very beautiful.
I walked thither alone, having heard that a feast
was to be held there. As I came close to the spot,
I heard the hum of many voices, and the dull boom-
ing sound of the native drum, which is nothing but
a large hollow tree, of circular shape, struck by
wooden mallets. Some few people ran off as I
appeared, but many of them had seen me before.
The women, about thirty in number, were sitting on
the ground together, in front of one of the houses,
which enclose an open circular space ; in front of
another house were many children and young
people. In the long narrow house which forms the
general cooking and lounging room of the men of
each village, and the sleeping room of the bachelors,
were many people preparing large messes of grated
yam and cocoa nut in flat wooden dishes. At the
long oblong-shaped drum sat the performers, two
young men, each with two short sticks to perform
the kettledrum part of the business, and an older
man in the center whose art consisted in bringing
out deep, hollow tones from his wooden instrument.
Around them stood some thirty men, two of whom
I noticed especially, decked out with red leaves, and
feathers in their hair. Near this party, and close to
the long, narrow house in the end of which I stood,
was a newly raised platform of earth, supported
on stones. On the corner stone were laid six or
eight pigs' jaws, with the large curling tusks left in
them. This was a sacred stone. In front of the
platform were three poles, covered with flowers, red
leaves, &c.
For about an hour and a half the men at or around
the drum kept up an almost incessant shouting,
464 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
screaming and whistling, moving their legs and arms
in time, not with any wild gesticulations, but occa-
sionally with some little violence, the drum all the
time being struck incessantly. About the middle of
the ceremony, an old, tall, thin man, with a red
handkerchief, our gift at some time, round his waist,
began ambling round the space in the middle of the
houses, carrying a boar's skull in his hand. This
performance he repeated three times. Then a man
jumped up upon the platform, and, moving quickly
about on it and gesticulating wildly, delivered a
short speech, after which the drum was beat louder
than ever ; then came another speech from the same
man ; and then the rain evidently hastening matters
to a conclusion to the whole thing, without any
ceremony of consecrating the stone, as I had ex-
pected.
In the long room afterwards I had the opportunity
of saying quietly what I had said to those about me
during the ceremony : the same story of the love of
God, especially manifested in Jesus Christ, to turn
men from darkness to light, and from the power of
Satan unto God. With what power that verse
speaks to one while witnessing such an exhibition of
Ignorance, or fear, or superstition as I have seen to-
day ! And through it all I was constantly thinking
upon the earnestness with which these poor souls
follow out a mistaken notion of religion. Such rain
as fell this morning would have kept a whole English
congregation from going to church, but they never
sought shelter nor desisted from their work in hand ;
and the physical effect was really great, the perspira-
tion streamed down their bodies, and the learning by
heart all the songs and the complicated parts of the
ceremony implied a good deal of pains. Christians
i86o.] Superstition 465
do not always take so much pains to fulfil scrupulously
their duties as sometimes these heathens do. And,
indeed, their bondage is a hard one, constant suspicion
and fear whenever they think at all. Everything
that is not connected with the animal part of our
nature seems to be the prey of dark and gloomy
superstitions ; the spiritual part is altogether inactive
as an instrument of comfort, joy, peace and hope.
You can imagine that I prayed earnestly for these
poor souls, actually performing before me their
strange mysteries, and that I spoke earnestly and
strongly afterwards.
The argument with those who would listen was :
What good comes of all this ? What has the spirit
you call Ikpat ever done for you ? Has he taught
you to clothe yourselves, build houses, &c. ? Does he
offer to make you happy ? Can you tell me what
single good thing has come from these customs ?
But if you ask me what good thing has come to us
from the Word of God, first you had better let me
tell you what has happened in England of old, in
New Zealand, Nengone, or Lifu, then I will tell you
what the Word of God teaches ; — and these with the
great outline of the Faith,
Every village in the island had the platforms, poles
and flowers ; and the next day, at a turn in the path
near a village, the Mission party suddenly came upon
four sticks planted in a row, two of them bearing things
like one-eyed masks ; two others, like mitres, painted
red, black, and white. As far as could be made out,
they were placed there as a sort of defiance to the
inhabitants ; but Mr. Patteson took down one, and de-
clared his intention of buying them for fish-hooks, to
I. H H
466 Life of yohii CoLeridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
take to New Zealand, that the people might see their
dark and foolish customs !
Some effect had already been produced, the people
declared that there had been much less of fighting
since the missionaries had spoken to them eighteen
months back, and they had given up some of the
charms by which they used to destroy each other ; but
there was still much carrying of bows ; and on the way
home from this expedition, Mr. Patteson suddenly
came on six men with bows bent and arrows pointed
in his direction. He at once recognised a man from
Veverao, the next village to the station, and called out
' All right!' It proved that a report had come of his
being attacked or killed on the other side of the island,
and that they had set out to defend or avenge him.
He received his champions with reproof : — ' This is
the very thing I told you not to do. It is all your
foolish jealousy and suspicion of them. There is
not a man on the island who is not friendly to me !
And if they were not friendly, what business have
you with your bows and arrows ? I tell you once
more, if I see you take your bows again, though you
may do it as you think with a good intention towards
me, I will not stay at your village. If you want to
help me, receive the Word of God, abandon your
senseless ceremonies. That will be helping me
indeed !'
* Cannot you live at peace in this little bit of an
island ?' was the constant theme of these lectures ; and
when Wompas, his old scholar, appeared with bow and
arrows, saying, * I am sent to defend you,' the answer
was, ' Don't talk such nonsense ! Give me the bow ! '
This was done, and Patteson was putting it across his
knee to break it, when the youth declared it was not
i86o.] The First-fruits of Mota 467
his. * If I see these things again, you know what will
become of them ! '
The mitres and masks were gone ; but the Veverao
people were desperately jealous of the next village,
Auta, alleging that the inhabitants were unfriendly,
and by every means trying to keep the guest entirely
to themselves ; while he resolutely forced on their re-
luctant ears, ' If you are sincere in saying that you
wish to know God, you must love your brother. God
will not dwell in a divided heart, nor teach you His
truth while you wilfully continue to hate your brother ! '
The St. Barnabas Day on which most of this was
written was a notable one, for it was marked by the
first administration of both the Sacraments in Mota.
In the morning one English and four Nengonese
communicants knelt round their pastor ; and, in the
evening, after a walk to Auta, and much of this preach-
ing of peace and good will, then a dinner, which was
made festive with preserved meat and wine, there came
a message from one Ivepapeu, a leading man, whose
child was sick. It was evidently dying, and Mr.
Patteson, in the midst of the people, told them that —
* The Son of God had commanded us to teach and
baptize all nations ; that they did not understand the
meaning of what he was about to do, but that the
word of Jesus the Son of God was plain, and that he
must obey it ; that this was not a mere form, but a
real gift from heaven, not for the body but the soul ;
that the child would be as likely to die as before, but
that its spirit would be taken to God, and if it should
recover, it must be set apart for God, not taken to
any heathen rites, but given to himself to be trained
up as a child of God.' The parents consented :
' Then,' he continues, ' we knelt, and in the middle of
H H 2
468 Life of JoJui Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. ix.
the village, the naked group around me, the dying
child in its mother's lap, I prayed to God and Christ
in their language to bless the child according to His
own promise, to receive it for His own child, and
to convey to it the fulness of the blessing of His
holy Sacrament. Then while all were silent, I
poured the water on its head, pronouncing the form
of words in English, and calling the child John, the
first Christian child in the Banks Islands. Then I
knelt down again and praised God for his goodness,
and prayed that the child might live, if it were His
good pleasure, and be educated to His glory; and
then I prayed for those around me and for the people
of the island, that God would reveal to them His
Holy Name and Word and Will ; and so, with a few
words to the parents and people, left them, as dark-
ness settled down on the village and the bright stars
came out overhead.'
The innocent first-fruits of Mota died three days
later, and Mr. Patteson found a great howling and
wailing going on over its little grave under a long low
house. This was hushed when he came up, and spoke of
the Resurrection, and described the babe's soul dwelling
in peace in the Kingdom of the Father, where those
would join it who would believe and repent, cast away
their evil practices, and be baptized to live as children
of God. Kneeling down, he prayed over it, thanking
God for having taken it to Himself, and interceding for
all around ! They listened and seemed touched ; no
opposition was ever offered to him, but he found that
there was much fighting and quarrelling, many of the
villages at war with each other, and a great deal too much
use of the bow and arrow, though the whole race was free
from cannibalism. They seemed to want to halt between
two opinions : to keep up their orgies on the one hand,
i86o.] Initiation 469
and to make much of the white teacher on the other ; and
when we recollect that two unarmed Englishmen, and
twelve blacks from other islands, were perfectly isolated
in the midst of a heathen population, having refused
protection from a British man-of-war, it gives a grandeur
to the following narrative : —
yune i6tk. — One of their chief men has just been
with two bread-fruit as a present. I detected him as
a leader of one of their chief ceremonies yesterday,
and I have just told him plainly that I cannot accept
anything from him, neither can I suffer him to be
coming to my place while it is notorious that he is
teaching the children the very things they ought not
to learn, and that he is strongly supporting the old
false system, while he professes to be listening atten-
tively to the Word of God. I made him take up
his two bread-fruit and carry them away ; and I
suppose it will be the story all over the village that
I have driven him away.
' By-and-by we will listen to the Word of God,
when we have finished these ceremonies.'
' Yes, you hearken first to the voice of the evil
spirit ; you choose him first, and then you will care to
hear about God.'
The ceremony was to last twenty days, and only
affected the lads, who were blackened all over with
soot, and apparently presented pigs to the old priest,
and were afterwards admitted to the privileges of eating
and sleeping in the separate building, which formed a
kind of club-house for the men of each village, and on
which Mr. Patteson could always reckon as both a
lecture room and sleeping place.
The people kept on saying that * by-and-by ' they
would make an end of their wild ritual, and throw down
470 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
their enclosures, and at the same time they thronged to
talk to him at the Mission station, and built a shed to
serve for a school at Auta.
Meantime the little estate was brought into order.
A pleasant day of landscape gardening was devoted
to clearing gaps to let in the lovely views from the
station ; and a piece of ground was dug and planted with
pine-apples, vines, oranges and cotton, also a choicer
species of banana than the indigenous one. Bread-fruit
was so plenty that breakfast was provided by sending
a boy up a tree to fetch down four or five fruits, which
were laid in the ashes, and cooked at once ; and as to
banana leaves ' we think nothing of cutting one down,
four feet long and twenty inches wide, of a bright pale
green, just to wrap up a cooked yam or two.'
The first week in July, with Wadrokala, Mark, and
two Malanta men, Mr. Patteson set forth in the boat
that had been left with him, for an expedition among
the other islands, beginning with Saddle Island, or
Valua, which was the proper name.
The day after leaving Rowa, the weather changed ;
and as on these perilous coasts there was no possibility
of landing, two days and the intervening night had to
be spent in the open four-oared boat, riding to a
grapnel !
Very glad they were to get into Port Patteson, and
to land in the wet, ' as it can rain in the tropics.' The
nearest village, however, was empty, everybody being
gone to the burial wake of the wife of a chief, and there
was no fire to cook the yams, everything dreary and
deserted, but a short walk brought the wet and tired
party to the next village, where they were made welcome
to the common house ; and, after supping on yams
and chocolate, spent a good night, and found the sea
smooth the next day for a return to head-quarters.
i86o.] First Weeks at Mota 471
These first weeks at Mota were very happy, but
after that the strain began to tell. Mr. Patteson had
been worn with anxiety for his father, and no doubt
with awe in the contemplation of his coming Episcopate,
and was not in a strong state of health when he left
Kohimarama, and the lack of animal food, the too sparing
supply of wine, and the bare board bed told upon him.
On the 24th of July he wrote in a letter to his Uncle
Edward : —
I have lost six days : a small tumour formed inside the
ear about two inches from the outer ear, and the
pain has been very considerable, and the annoyance
great. Last night I slept for the first time for five
nights, and I have been so weary with sleeplessness
that I have been quite idle. The mischief is passing
away now. That ear is quite deaf; it made me think
so of dear Father and Joan with their constant trial.
I don't see any results from our residence here ; and
why should I look for them '^ It is enough that the
people are hearing, some of them talking, and a few
thinking about what they hear. All in God's own
time !
Mr. Dudley adds : 'His chief trouble at this time
was with one of his ears. The swelling far in not
only made him deaf while it lasted, but gave him
intense and protracted agony. More than once he
had to spend the whole night in walking up and
down the room. But only on one occasion during
the whole time do I remember his losing his patience,
and that was when we had been subjected to an
unusually protracted visitation from the "loafers " of
the village, who would stretch themselves at full
length on the floor and table, if we would let them,
and altoofether conduct themselves in such a manner
472 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
as to call for summary treatment, very different from
the more promising section. The half jocular but
very decided manner in which he cleared the house
on this occasion, and made them understand that they
were to respect our privacy sometimes, and not make
the Mission station an idling place, was very satis-
factory. It was no small aggravation of the pain to
feel that this might be the beginning of permanent
deafness, such as would be fatal to his usefulness in
a work in which accuracy of ear was essential.'
However, this gradually improved ; and another
boat voyage was made, but again was frustrated by
the torrents of rain. In fact, it was an unusually
wet and unwholesome season, which told upon every-
one. Mark Chakham, the Nengonese, was brought
very near the grave by a severe attack of dysentery.
All the stores of coffee, chocolate, wine and biscuit
were used up. The ' Southern Cross ' had been due full
a month, and nothing was heard of her through the
whole of September.
Teaching and conversation went on all this time, try-
ing as it was ; and the people still came to hear, though
no one actually undertook to forsake his idols.
' I am still hopeful about these people,' is the entry on
September i8, 'though all their old customs and
superstitions go on just as before. But (i) they
know that a better teaching has been presented to
them. {2) They do not pursue their old habits with
the same unthinking security. (3) There are signs
of a certain uneasiness of mind, as if a struggle was
beginning in them. (4) They have a vague con-
sciousness, some of them, that the power is passing
away from their witchcrafts, sorceries, &c., by which
i86o.] Expectation of the * Southern Cross^ 473
unquestionably they did and still do work strange
effects on the credulous people, like Pharaoh's ma-
gicians of old.'
This was ground gained ; and one or two voyages to
Vanua Lava and the other isles were preparatory steps,
and much experience had been acquired, and resulted
in this : —
The feasibility of the Bishop's old scheme is more
and more apparent to me. Only I think that in
taking away natives to the summer school, it must
be understood that some (and they few) are taken
from new islands merely to teach us some of their
languages and to frank us, so that we may have
access in safety to their islands. Should any of
them turn out well, so much the better ; but it will
not be well to take them with the expectation of
their becoming teachers to their people. But
the other section of the school will consist of young
men whose behaviour we have watched during the
winter in their own homes, whose professions we
have had an opportunity of testing — they may be
treated as young men on the way to become teach-
ers eventually to their countrymen. One learns
much from living among a heathen people, and only
by living in our pupils' homes shall we ever know
their real characters. Poor fellows ! they are adepts
in all kinds of deceitfulness at a very early age, and
so completely in our power on board the schooner
and at Kohimarama, that we know nothing of them
as they are.
The very paper this is copied from shows how the
stores were failing, for the full quarto sheets have all
failed, and the journal is continued on note paper.
474 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Not till October i was Mr. Patteson's watch by a
poor dying woman interrupted by tidings that a ship
was in sight. And soon it was too plain that she was
not the ' Southern Cross,' though, happily, neither trader
nor French Mission ship. In a short time there came
ashore satisfactory letters from home, but with them
the tidings that the little ' Southern Cross ' lay in many
fathoms water on the New Zealand coast !
On her return, on the night of the 17th of June, just
as New Zealand itself was reached, there was a heavy
gale from the north-east. A dangerous shoal of rocks,
called the Hen and Chickens, stands out from the head
of Ngunguru Bay ; and, in the darkness and mist, it was
supposed that these were safely passed, when the ship
struck on the eastern Chicken, happily on a spot some-
what sheltered from the violence of the breakers. The
two passengers and the crew took refuge in the rigging
all night ; and in the morning contrived to get a line to
land, on which all were safely drawn through the surf,
and were kindly received by the nearest English
settlers.
So, after five years' good service, ended the career
of the good ' Southern Cross ' the first. She had gone
down upon sand, and much of the wreck might have
been recovered and made useful again had labour not
been so scarce at that time in New Zealand that the
Bishop could find no one to undertake the work, and
all he could do was to charter another vessel to be
despatched to bring home the party from Mota. Nor
were vessels fit for the purpose easy to find, and the
schooner * Zillah ' — welcome as was the sight of her —
proved a miserable substitute even in mere nautical
capabililics, and her internal arrangements were of
course entirely inappropriate to the peculiar wants of
the Mission.
i86o.] Wreck of the ' Southern Cross' 475
This was the more unfortunate because the very day
after her arrival Mr. Dudley was prostrated by some-
thing of a sunstroke. Martin Tehele was ill already,
and rapidly became worse ; and Wadrokala and Harper
Malo sickened immediately, nor was the former patient
recovered. Mr. Dudley, Wadrokala and Harper were
for many days in imminent danger, and were scarcely
dragged through by the help of six bottles of wine,
providentially sent by the Bishop. Mr. Dudley says : —
During the voyage Mr. Patteson's powers of nursing
were severely tried. Poor Martin passed away be-
fore we arrived at Nengone, and was committed to the
deep. Before he died he was completely softened
by Mr. Patteson's loving care, and asked pardon for
all the trouble he had given and the fretfulness he
had shown. Poor fellow ! I well remember how
he gasped out the Lord's Prayer after Mr. Patteson
a few minutes before he died. We all who had
crawled up round his bed joining in with them.
Oh, what a long dreary time that was ! Light
baffling winds continually, and we in a vessel as
different from the ' Southern Cross ' as possible, abso-
lutely guiltless, I should think, of having ever made
two miles an hour to windward ' in a wind.' The
one thing that stands out as having relieved its
dreariness is the presence of Mr. Patteson, the visits
he used to pay to us, and the exquisite pathos of his
voice as, from the corner of the hold where we lay,
we could hear him reading the Morning and Evening
Prayers of the Church and leading the hymn.
These prevented these long weary wakeful days and
nights from being absolutely insupportable.
At last Nengone was reached, and Wadrokala and
Harper were there set ashore, better, but very weak.
476 Life ofyohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. ix.
Here the tidings were known that in Lifu John Cho
had lost his wife Margaret, and had married the widow
of a Rarotongan teacher, a very suitable match, but
too speedy to be according to European ideas ; and
on November 26 the ' Zillah ' was off the Three Kings,
New Zealand.
Monday : Nov. 26, i860.
' Zillah ' Schooner, off the Three Kings, N. of New Zealand.
You know pretty well that Kohimarama is a small
bay, about one-third of a mile along the sea front-
age, two-and-a-half miles due east of Auckland,
and just opposite the entrance into the harbour,
between the North Head and Rangitoto. The
beach is composed entirely of the shells of ' pipi '
(small cockles) ; always, therefore, dry and pleasant
to walk upon. A fence runs along the whole length
of it. At the eastern end of it, a short distance
inside this N. (= sea) fence, are the three cottages
of the master and mate and Fletcher. Sam Fletcher
is a man-of-war's man, age about thirty-eight, who
has been with us some four years and a half. He
has all the habits of order and cleanliness that his
life as coxswain of the captain's gig taught him ; he is
a very valuable fellow. He is our extra man at sea.
Each of these cottages has its garden, and all
three men are married, but only the master (Grange)
has any family, one married daugher.
Then going westward comes a nine-acre paddock,
and then a dividing fence, inside (i.e. to W.) of which
stand our buildings.
Now our life here is hard to represent. It is not
like the life of an ordinary schoolmaster, still less
like that of an ordinary clergyman. Much of the
domestic and cooking department I may manage, of
1 860.] Life of KoJiiinarama 477
course, to superintend. I would much rather do this
than have the nuisance of a paid servant.
So at 5 A.M., say, I turn out ; I at once go to the
kitchen, and set the two cooks of the week to work,
hght fire, put on yams or potatoes, then back to dress,
read, &c. ; In and out, all the time, of the kitchen
till breakfast time : say 8 or 8.30. You would be
surprised to see how very soon the lads will do It
all by themselves, and leave me or Mr. Kerr to give
all our attention to school and other matters.
So you can fancy, Joan, now, the manner of life.
My little room with my books is my snuggery
during the middle of the day, and at night I have
also a large working table at one end of the big
school-room, covered with books, papers, &c., and
here I sit a good deal, my room being too small to
hold the number of books that I require to have
open for comaprison of languages, and for working
out grammatical puzzles. Then I am in and out of
the kitchen and store-room, and boys' rooms, seeing
that all things, clothes, blankets, floors, &c., are
washed and kept clean, and doing much what Is done
in every house.
Snuggery no doubt it looked compared with the
* Zillah ; ' but what would the ' Eton fellow ' of fifteen
years back have thought of the bare, scantily furnished
room, with nothing but the books, prints, and photo-
graphs around to recall the tastes of old, and generally
a sick Melanesian on the floor } However, he was
glad enough to return thither, though with only sixteen
scholars from ten places. Among them was Taroniara
from Bauro, who was to be his follower, faithful to
death. The following addition was made to the letter
to Mr. Edward Coleridge, begun in Banks Islands : —
478 Life of yoJui Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Kohimarama : Dec. i, i860.
One line, my dear tutor, before I finish off my pile of
hastily written letters for this mail.
Alas ! alas ! for the little schooner, that dear little
vessel, our home for so many months of each year,
so admirably qualified for her work. Whether she
may be got off her sandy bed, no one can say.
Great expense would certainly be incurred, and the
risk of success great also.
I have not yet had time to talk to the Bishop, I
only reached New Zealand on November 28. We
cannot, however, well do our work in chartered
vessels [then follows a full detail of the imperfections
of the 'Zillah' and all other Australian merchant
craft ; then — ] But, dear old tutor, even the ' Southern
Cross ' (though what would I give to see her now at
her usual anchorage from the window at which I am
now sitting !) for a time retires into the distance, as I
think of what is to take place (D.V.) in January
next.
I hoped that I had persuaded the Bishop that the
meeting of the General Synod in February 1862
would be a fit time. I do not see that the Duke's
despatch makes any difference in the choice of the
time. But all was settled in my absence ; and now
at the Feast of the Epiphany or of the Conversion of
St. Paul (as suits the convenience of the Southern
Bishops) the Consecration is to take place. I am
heartily glad that the principle of consecrating
Missionary Bishops will be thus affirmed and acted
upon ; but oh ! if some one else was to be the Bishop !
And yet I must not distrust God's grace, and the
gift of the Holy Spirit to enable me for this work.
I try and pray to be calm and resigned, and I am
happy and cheerful.
i86o.] Approaching Consecration 479
And it is a blessed thing that now three of your
old dear friends, once called Selwyn, Abraham,
Hobhouse, should be consecrating your own nephew
and pupil, gathered by God's providence into the
same part of God's field at the ends of the earth.
Still with his heart full of the never forgotten influence
of his mother, he thus begins his home letter of the
same date : —
Kohimarama : Dec. i.
My dearest Father, — I could not write on November
28, but the memory of that day in 1842 was with
me from morning to night. We anchored on that
day at i a.m., and I was very busy till late at night.
I had no idea till I came back from the Islands that
there was any change in the arrangements for the
Consecration in February 1862. But now the
Bishops of Wellington and Nelson have been
summoned for the Feast of the Epiphany, or of the
Conversion of St. Paul, and all was done in my
absence. I see, too, that you in England have
assumed that the Consecration will take place soon
after the reception of the Duke's despatch.
I must not now shrink from it, I know. I have
full confidence in your judgment, and in that of the
Bishop ; and I suppose that if I was speaking of
another, I should say that I saw reasons for it. But
depend upon it, my dear Father, that a man cannot
communicate to another the whole of the grounds
upon which he feels reluctant to accept an office.
I believe that I ought to accept this in deference
to you all, and I do so cheerfully, but I don't say
that my judgment agrees wholly with you all.
And yet there is no one else ; and if the separation
of New Zealand and Melanesia is necessary, I see
480 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattcson [Ch. IX.
that this must be the consequence. So I regard
it now as a certainty. I pray God to strengthen and
enable me : I look forward, thanks to Him, hopefully
and cheerfully. I have the love and the prayers of
many, many friends, and soon the whole Church of
England will recognise me as one who stands in
special need of grace and strength from above.
Oh ! the awful power of heathenism ! the anta-
gonism, not of evil only, but of the Evil One, rather,
I mean the reality felt of all evil emanating from a
person, as St. Paul writes, and as our Lord spoke of
him. I do indeed at times feel overwhelmed, as if
I was in a dream. Then comes some blessed word
or thought of comfort, and promised strength and
grace.
But enouQfh of this.
The ' Southern Cross ' cannot, I think, be got off
without great certain expense and probable risk.
I think we shall have to buy another vessel, and I
dare say she may be built at home, but I don't know
what is the Bishop's mind about it. . . .
I shall write to Merton, I don't know why I should
needs vacate my fellowship. I have no change of
outward circumstances brought upon me by my
change presently from the name of Presbyter to
Bishop, and we want all the money.
What you say about a Missionary Bishop being
for five months of the year within the diocese of
another Bishop, I will talk over with the Bishop of
New Zealand. I think our Synodical system will
make that all right ; and as for my work, it will be
precisely the same in all respects. My external life
altered only to the extent of my wearing a broader
brimmed and lower crowned hat. Dear Joan is in-
vesting nKMieys in cutaway coats, buckles without
i86o.] Keeping the Fellowship 481
end, and no doubt knee-breeches and what she calls
' gambroons ' (whereof I have no cognizance), none
of which will be worn more than (say) four or five
times in the year. Gambroons and aprons and lawn
sleeves won't go a- voyaging, depend upon it. Just
when I preach in some Auckland church I shall
appear in full costume ; but the buckles will grow
very rusty indeed !
How kind and good of her to take all the trouble,
I don't laugh at that, and at her dear love for me
and anxiety that I should have everything ; but I
could not help having a joke about gambroons,
whatever they are. . . .
Good-bye once more, my dearest Father. You will,
I trust, receive this budget about the time of your
birthday. How I think of you day and night, and
how I thank you for all your love, and perhaps most
of all, not only letting me come to Melanesia, but
for your great love in never calling me away from
my work even to see your face once more on earth.
Your loving and dutiful Son,
J. C, Patteson.
Remark upon a high-minded letter is generally an
impertinence both to the writer and the reader, but I
cannot help pausing upon the foregoing, to note the
force of the expression that thanks the father for the
love that did not recall the son. What a different
notion these two men had of love from that which
merely seeks self-gratification ! Observe, too, how
the old self-contemplative, self-tormenting spirit, that
was unhappiness in those days of growth and heart-
searching at the first entrance into the ministry, had
passed into humble obedience and trust. Looking
I. I I
482 Life of John Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. ix.
back to the correspondence of ten years ago, volumes
of progress are implied in the quiet ' Enough of this.'
There were, however, some delays in bringing the
three together, and on the New Year's Day of 1861,
the designate writes to Bishop Abraham : — 'I dare say
the want of any positive certainty as to the time of
the Consecration is a good discipline for me. I
think I feel calm now ; but I know I must not trust
feelings, and when I think of those islands and the
practical difficulty of getting at them, and the need
of so many of those qualities which are so wonder-
fully united in our dear Primate, I need strength
from above indeed to keep my heart from sinking.
But I think that I do long and desire to work on by
God's grace, and not to look to results at all.'
A ' supplementary mail ' made possible a birthday
letter (the last) written at 6 a.m. on the nth of
February : — ' I wanted of course to write to you to-day.
Many happy returns of it I wish you indeed, for it
may yet please God to prolong your life ; but in any
case you know well how I am thinking and praying
for you that every blessing and comfort may be
given you. Oh ! how I do think of you night and
day. When Mrs. Selwyn said "Good-bye," and spoke
of you, I could not stand it. I feel that anything
else (as I farcy) I can speak of with composure;
but the verses m the Bible, such as the passage
which I read yesterday in St. Mark x., almost unnerve
me, and I can't wish it to be otherwise. But I feel
that my place is here, and that I must look to the
blessed hope of meeting again hereafter. . . .
* Of course no treat is so great to me as the occa-
sional talks with the Bishop. Oh ! the memory of
those days and evenings on board the " Southern
i86i.
Sense of Responsibility 483
Cross." Well, it was so happy a life that it was not
good for me, I suppose, that it should last. But I feel
it now that the sense of responsibility is deepening on
me, and I must go out to work without him ; and very,
very anxious I am sometimes, and almost oppressed
by it.
' But strength will come ; and it is not one's own
work, which is the comfort, and if I fail (which is very
likely) God will place some other man in my posi-
tion, and the work will go on, whether in my hands
or not, and that is the real point.
' Some talk I find there has been about my going
home. I did not hear of it until after Mrs. Selwyn
had sailed. It was thought of, but it was felt, as I
certainly feel, that it ought not to be. ... My
work lies out here clearly ; and it is true that any
intermission of voyages or residences in the islands
is to be avoided.'
Mrs. Selwyn had gone home for a year, and had so
arranged as to see the Patteson family almost imme-
diately on her return. Meantime the day drew on.
The Consecration was not by Royal mandate, as in
the case of Bishops of sees under British jurisdiction ;
but the Duke of Newcastle, then Colonial Secretary,
wrote : — ' That the Bishops of New Zealand are at
liberty, without invasion of the Royal prerogative or
infringement of the law of England, to exercise what
Bishop Selwyn describes as their inherent power of
consecrating Mr. Patteson or any other person to
take charge of the Melanesian Islands, provided that
the consecration should take place beyond British
territory.'
In consequence it was proposed that the three con-
secrating Bishops should take ship and perform the holy
I I 2
484 Life of John Coleridge Patteso7i [Ch. ix.
rite in one of the isles beneath the open sky ; but as
Bishop Mackenzie had been legally consecrated in Cape
Town Cathedral, the Attorney-General of New Zealand
gave it as his opinion that there was no reason that the
consecration should not take place in Auckland.
Kohimarama : Feb. 15, 1861.
My dearest Father, — Mr. Kerr, who has just returned
from Auckland, where he spent yesterday, brings me
the news that the question of the Consecration has
been settled, and that it will take place (D.V.) on
Sunday week, St. Matthias Day, February 24.
I ought not to shrink back now. The thought
has become familiar to me, and I have the o-reatest
confidence in the judgment of the Bishop of New
Zealand ; and I need not say how your words and
letters and prayers too are helping me now.
Indeed, though at any great crisis of our lives no
doubt we are intended to use more than ordinary
strictness in examining our motives and in seeking
for greater grace, deeper repentance, more earnest
and entire devotion to God, and amendment of life,
yet I know that any strong emotion, if it existed
now, would pass away soon, and that I must be the
same man as Bishop as I am now, in this sense, viz.,
that I shall have just the same faults, unless I pray
for strength to destroy them, which I can do equally
well now, and that all my characteristic and peculiar
habits of mind will remain unchanged by what will
only change my office and not myself. So that
where I am indolent now I shall be indolent hence-
forth, unless I seek to get rid of indolence ; and I
shall not be at all better, wiser, or more consistent
as Bishop than I am now by reason simply of being
a I)ishop.
i86r.] The Consecration Day fixed 485
You know my meaning. Now I apply what I write
to prove that any strong excitement now would be no
evidence of a healthy state of mind. I feel now like
myself, and that is not at all like what I wish to be.
And so I thank God that as before any solemn
season special inducements to earnest repentance
are put into our minds, so I now feel a special call
upon me to seek by His grace to make a more
faithful use of the means of usefulness which He
gives me, that I may be wholly and entirely turned
to Him, and so be enabled to do His will in
Melanesia. You know, my dearest Father, that I do
not indeed undervalue the grace of Ordination ; only
I mean that the right use of any great event in one's
life, as I take it, is not to concentrate feeling so
much on it as earnestness of purpose, prayer for
grace, and for increase of simplicity and honesty
and purity of heart. Perhaps other matters affect
me more than my supposed state of feeling, so that
my present calmness may be attributed to circum-
stances of which I am partially ignorant; and, indeed,
I do wonder that I am calm when one moment's
look at the map, or thought of the countless islands,
almost overwhelms me. How to get at them ?
Where to begin ? How to find men and means ?
How to decide upon the best method of teaching,
&c. ? But I must try to be patient, and to be
content with very small beginnings — and endings,
too, perhaps.
Tuesday, Feb. \<^th. — On Sunday morning I had
the whole service at the new church, St. Mary's
Parnell, the suburb to which Taurarua belongs.
Large number of communicants. The Ember
Prayer tried my nerve. I think that I must have
been rather highly wrought up, for I was unwell in
486 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. ix.
the night, and all Monday, becalmed with sickness,
&c. But two days on tea and a scrap of toast have
made me all right, and to-day I read prayers at the
opening of the Diocesan Synod, and assisted the
Bishop in administering the Holy Communion ; and
rode back to Kohimarama ; and now 10 r.M, I feel
nearly quite right. Mr. Pritt, who came out as the
Bishop of Nelson's chaplain, wishes to join this
Mission. His qualifications as a teacher I tested
last summer when he was at Kohimarama for two
or three months. The Bishop of Nelson will give
him up. He will go (D.V.) to spend this next
winter with me at the Banks Islands, on trial \ it
being distinctly understood that no permanent en-
gagement has been in any sense determined on.
He is in full Orders, a Cambridge man. Should
it please God that he, Mr. Kerr, and Benjamin
Dudley are to work with me, that is all the help we
need at present. Things may brighten soon ; but
in any case, quietly doing one's duty in dependence
upon God's grace is the only right way, and brings
alone real comfort.
Friday, Feb. 22nd, 4P.M. — I am very happy
about some of my lads here ; I think two or three
are beginning to feel something of a personal sense
of religion. To-day's morning Psalm, dear Mamma's
Psalm ! I do not think I shall be able to write to
many people this mail. If it be so, and any of them
think it odd they do not hear, will you let them
know that I am very much occupied with Melane-
sian reports and accounts ; and I am trying to get
some statements of the ethnology and philology of
these islands under weigh, but it is an intricate sub-
ject ; and as I am, by way of introduction, trying to
trace out the law of transposition of vowels and conso-
1 86 1.] Philology of the Pacific 487
nants, and compare it with the laws laid down by the
German comparative philologists, Grimm and Bopp,
ct hoc genus oninc, it is not a thing to be done in a
day. I suppose I shall have to draw illustrations
from sixteen or seventeen dialects and languages of
the South Pacific. But if I can get the skeleton
prepared, I may, if I live, fill it up in another year.
I think I have got it in my head, but I can't arrange
on paper what I find it easy enough to talk about,
to Sir William Martin, for instance. And this kind
of thing requires undivided attention and the use
of many books ; most of which books I must first
furnish for myself But the Judge presses me to try
to do it, and I feel that it ought to be done. Should
I die now suddenly, most of the knowledge of these
languages would die with me, which would be a
pity.i
Stmday, Feb. 2/\.th, St. Matthias, 10 a.m. — The
day is come, my dearest Father, and finds me, I
thank God, very calm. Yesterday, at 6 p.m., in the
little chapel at Taurarua, the three Bishops, the dear
Judge, Lady Martin, Mrs. Abraham, Mr. Lloyd and
I met together for special prayer. How we missed
Mrs. Selwyn, dear dear Mrs. Selwyn, from among
us, and how my thoughts passed on to you ! Evening
hymn. Exhortation in Consecration Service, Litany
from the St. Augustine's Missionary Manual, with the
questions in Consecration Service turned into peti-
tions, Psalm cxxxii., cxxxi., li. ; Lesson i Tim. iii. ;
special prayer for the Elect Bishop among the
heathen, for the conversion of the heathen ; and the
Gloria in Excelsis.
Then the dear Bishop walked across to me, and
' Several philological letters are given in the Appendix, as they would
not suit general readers.
488 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
taking my hand in both of his, looking at me with
that smile of love and deep deep thought, so seldom
seen, and so deeply prized. ' I can't tell you what
I feel,' he said, with a low and broken voice. ' You
know it — my heart is too full ! '
Ah ! the memory of six years with that great
and noble servant of God was in my heart too,
and so we stood, tears in our eyes, and I unable to
speak.
At night again, when, after arranging finally the
service, I was left with him alone, he spoke calmly
and hopefully. Much he said of you, and we are all
thinking much of you. Then he said : ' I feel no
misgiving in my heart ; I think all has been done as
it should be. Many days we three have discussed
the matter. By prayer and Holy Communion we
have sought light from above, and it is, I believe,
God's will.' Then once more taking both hands,
he kissed my forehead : ' God bless you, my dear
Coley. I can't say more words, and you don't
desiderate them.'
'No,' said I ; ' my heart, as yours, is too full
for words. I have lived six years with you to little
purpose, if I do not know you full well now !'
And then I walked, in the perfect peace of a still
cloudless night — the moon within two days of full —
the quarter of a mile to St. Stephen's schools, where I
slept last night. On the way I met the Bishop of
Wellington and Mrs. Abraham, coming up from St.
Stephen's to the Bishop' house.
y . C. P. What a night of peace ! the harbour
like a silver mirror !
/y. of JV. Dominus tecum.
Mi's. A. I trust you will sleep.
y . C. P. I thank you ; I think so. I feel calm.
i86i.] The Consecration 489
Sunday Nighty 10 p.m. [Feniion, Sicnday, 10.40 a.m.) — .
It is over — a most solemn blessed service. Glorious
day. Church crowded — many not able to find
admittance ; but orderly. More than two hundred
communicants. More to-morrow {D.V.). All day
you have been in our minds. The Bishop spoke
of you in his sermon with faltering voice, and I
broke down ; yet at the moment of the Veni Creator
being sung over me, and the Imposition of Hands,
I was very calm. The Bible presented is the same
that you gave me on my fifth birthday with your
love and blessing. Oh ! my dear dear Father, God
will bless you for all your love to me, and your love
to Him in giving me to His service. May His
heavenly blessing be with you — all your dear ones
for ever !
Your most loving and dutiful Son,
J. C. Pattfson, Missionary Bishop.
Febrtmry 25//^. — I am spending to-day and to-
morrow here — i.e., sleeping at the Judge's, dining and
living half at his house, and half at the Bishop's —
quiet and calm it is, and I prize it. The music yester-
day was very good ; organ well played. The choirs
of the three town churches, and many of the choral
society people, filled the gallery — some eighty voices
perhaps. The Veni Creator the only part that was
not good, well sung, but too much like an anthem.
Tagalana, half-sitting, half-kneeling behind me,
held the book for the Primate to read from at the
Imposition of Hands — a striking group, I am told.
Here ends the letter, to which a little must be added
from other pens ; and, first, from Mrs. Abraham's letter,
for the benefit of Eton friends.
490 Life of J olui Coleridge Patteson [Cir. IX.
The Consecration was at St. Paul's Church, in
default of a Cathedral. Built before the Bishop
arrived, St. Paul's has no chancel ; and the Clergy,
including- a Maori Deacon, were rather crowded
within the rail. Mr. Patteson was seated in a chair
in front, ten of his island boys close to him, and
several working men of the rouoher sort were
brought into the benches near. We were rather
glad of the teaching that none were excluded. The
service was all in harmony with the occasion ; and
the sermon gave expression to all the Individual
and concentrated feeling of the moment, as well as
pointing the Lesson and its teaching.
The sermon was on the thought of the Festival :
' And they prayed, and said. Thou, Lord, which
knowest the hearts of all men, show whether of these
two Thou hast chosen.' (Acts i. 24). After speaking
of the special import and need of the prayers of
those gathered to offer up their prayers at the
Holy Communion, for those who were to exercise the
office of apostles in their choice, he spoke in words
that visibly almost overpowered their subject : —
' In this work of God, belonging to all eternity,
and to the Holy Catholic Church, are we influenced
by any private feelings, any personal regard } The
charge which St. Paul gives to Timothy, in words of
awful solemnity, " to lay hands suddenly on no man,"
may well cause much searching of heart. " I charge
thee before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, and the
elect angels, that thou observe these things, without
preferring one before another, doing nothing by
partiality." Does our own partial love deceive us
in this choice ? We were all trained in the same
place of education, united in the same circle of
friends ; in boyhood, youth, manhood, we have
1 86 1.] The Consecration 491
shared the same services, and joys, and hopes, and
fears. I received this, my son in the ministry of
Christ Jesus, from the hands of a father, of whose
old age he was the comfort. He sent him forth
without a murmur, nay, rather with joy and thank-
fulness, to these distant parts of the earth. He
never asked even to see him again, but gave him
up without reserve to the Lord's work. Pray, dear
brethren, for your Bishops, that our partial love may
not deceive us in this choice, for we cannot so strive
against natural affection as to be quite impartial.'
And again, as the Primate, addressing more
especially his beloved son in the ministry, ex-
claimed, * May Christ be with you when you go
forth in His name, and for His sake, to those poor
and needy people,' and his eye went along the
dusky countenances of his ten boys, Coleridge
Patteson could hardly restrain his intensity of
feeling.'
Another letter from the same lady to the sisters
adds further details to the scene, after describing the
figures in the church : —
Lady Martin, who had never seen the dress (the
cassock and rochet) before, said that Coley reminded
her of the figures of some young knight watching
his armour, as he stood in his calm stedfastness, and
answered the questions put to him by the Primate.
The whole service was very nicely ordered, and
the special Psalm well chanted. With one exception
(which was, alas ! the Veni Creator), the music was
good, and Coley says was a special help to him ; the
pleasure of it, and the external hold that it gave,
helping him out of himself, as it were, and sustaining
him.
492 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Lady Martin adds her touch to the picture ; and it
may perhaps be recorded for those who may in after
times read the history of the first Bishop of the
Melanesian Church, that whatever might be wanting
in the beauty of St. Paul's, Auckland, never were
there three Bishops who outwardly as well as inwardly
more answered to the dignity of their office than
the three who stood over the kneeling Coleridge
Patteson.
I shall never forget the expression of his face as
he knelt in the quaint rochet. It was meek and
holy and calm, as though all conflict was over and he
was resting in the Divine strength. It was altogether
a wonderful scene : the three consecrating Bishops,
all such noble-looking men, the goodly company of
clergy and Hohua's fine intelligent brown face among
them, and then the long line of island boys, and of
St. Stephen's native teachers and their wives, were
living testimonies of Mission work. Coley had told
us in the morning of a consecration he had seen at
Rome, where a young Greek deacon had held a large
illuminated book for the Pope to read the words of
Consecration. We had no such gorgeous dresses
as they, but nothing could have been more simply
beautiful and touching than the sight of Tagalana's
young face as he did the same good ofiice. There
was nothing artistic about it ; the boy came forward
with a wondering yet bright look on his pleasant
face, just dressed in his simple grey blouse.
You will read the sermon, so there is no need to
talk about it. Your brother was overcome for a
minute at the reference to his father, but the comfort
and favour of His Heavenly Master kept him
sinc^ularly calm, though the week before he had
i86i.] Fellozvship at Mcrto)i 493
undoubtedly had much struggle, and his bodily health
was affected.
All the friends who were thus brought together were
like one family, and still called the new Bishop by the
never disused abbreviation that recalled his home. He
was the guest of the now retired Chief Justice and
Lady Martin, who were occupying themselves in a
manner probably unique in the history of law and
lawyers, by taking charge of the native school at St.
Stephen's.
The next two were great days of letter writing.
Another long full letter was written to the father,
telling of the additional record which each of the three
consecrating Bishops had written in the Bible of his
childhood, and then going into business matters,
especially hoping that the Warden and Fellows of
Merton would not suppose that as a Bishop he
necessarily had 5,000/. a year and a palace, whereas in
fact the see had no more than the capital of 5,000/.
required by Government ! He had already agreed with
his father that his own share of the inheritance should
go to the Mission ; and, as he says, on hearing the
amount : —
Hard enough you worked, my dear Father, to leave
your children so well off. Dear old Jem will have
enough ; and my children now dwell in 200 islands,
and will need all that I can o-ive them. God erant
that the day may come when many of them may
understand these things, and rise up and call your
memory blessed !
Your words of comfort and blessing come to
me with fresh strength just now, two days only after
the time when you too, had you been here, would in
private have laid your hand on my head and called
494 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
down God's blessing upon me. I shall never know
in this world what I owe to your prayers.
There is much, too, of his brother's marriage ; and
in a separate letter to the sisters there are individual
acknowledgments of each article of the equipment,
gratifying the donor by informing her that the ' cutaway '
coat was actually to be worn that very evening at a
dinner party at the Chief Justice's, and admiring the
' o-ambroon,' which turned out to be the material of the
cassock, so much as to wish for a coat made of it for
the islands. Apropos of the hat :— ' You know my
forehead is square, so that an oval hat does not fit ; it
would hang on by the temples, which form a kind of
rieht anofle with the forehead.'
Another letter of that 26th was from the Bishop of
Wellington to Dr. Goodford respecting this much-loved
old pupil : —
You recollect probably that as a boy he was good,
pure, and true as gold, but then he.was very indolent,
and except at cricket or hockey showed no signs of
energy or ability, and I fancy his career at Oxford
was very similar. After being admitted to a Fel-
lowship at Merton, he seems by his own account to
have had his intellectual tastes stimulated by travel ;
but the repose of a small and pretty curacy in
Devonshire called out all his best moral feelings, yet
could hardly, I fancy, have developed much energy.
All this natural disposition to repose makes the
energy and devotedness of the last five years the
more remarkable and more evidently the work of
grace and duty.
Anything more conscientious and painstaking
cannot be conceived than the way he has steadily
directed every talent, every hour or minute of his
1 86 1.] " The Coining Work 495
life, to the one work he had set before him. However
small or uncongenial or drumdrudgery-like his oc-
cupation, however hard, or dangerous, or difficult,
it seemed to be always met in the same calm, gentle,
self-possessed spirit of love and duty, which I should
fancy that those who well knew his good and large-
minded, large-hearted father, and his mother, whom
I have always heard spoken of as saintly, could best
understand. Perhaps the most marked feature in
his character is his genuine simplicity and humility.
I never saw it equalled in one so gifted and so
honoured and beloved.
It is really creditable to the community to see how
universal is the admiration for his character, for he
is so very good, so exceedingly unworldly, and
therefore such a living rebuke to the selfishness of
the world ; and though so gentle, yet so firm and
uncompromising that you would have supposed he
would hardly be popular outside the circle of friends
who know him and, understand him. Certainly he is
the most perfect character I ever met.'
On the Monday, life and school at Kohimarama
went on as before. From the budget of the next mail
is extracted a letter to Mrs. Martyn : —
St. Andrew's College, Kohimarama : April 3.
My dear Sophy, — h letter from you by this mail
gives good accounts of you all. . . .
I know, dear Sophy, that you do think of and
pray for me, as you say. I don't suppose I realise
it yet ; but I shall have to learn what it is to be a
Bishop by the trials and anxieties that will come.
God will doubtless give strength, if only I seek it
aright ; but here is the point — I need the prayers of
you all indeed. Don't you often think, had dear
49^ Life of yohn Coleridge PatlesojL [Ch. ix.
Uncle been still with us in the body, what loving letters
he would have written — how, on the whole, he
would have rejoiced, as in a son of his own, yet
rejoiced with fear ; for the work is great, and the
responsibility — I may well dread to face the thought
of it ? I have never been alone yet, I have always
had natives with me — communicants. I am seven
months a-year absent from New Zealand, but never
alone for very long.
Last year, Mr. Dudley, two Nengone and two
Lifu men and I were the small band among the
heathen. This year Mr. Pritt (Bishop of Nelson's
chaplain) and Mr. Kerr go with me. Our Nengone
and Lifu friends will be, perhaps, picked up at their
islands. I may spend much of this winter in my
boat, and in other islands than Mota ; yet I shall,
D.V., return from time to time, and then administer
the blessed Sacrament. And very solemn it is to
be gathered together, a small group in the great
wide waste of Melanesia.
Those nights when I lie down, in a long hut,
among forty or fifty naked men, cannibals, the only
Christian on the island, that is the time, Sophy, to
pour out the heart in prayer and supplication that
they — those dark wild heathens about me — may be
turned from Satan unto God.
And now to me it is committed to ' hold up the
weak, heal the sick, bind up the broken, bring again
the otUcasts, seek the lost' those wonderful, beautiful
words ! How I held tight my Bible that dear Father
gave me on my fifth birthday, with both hands, and
the Bishop held it tight too, as he gave me that
charge in the name of Christ ; and I saw in spirit the
multitudes of Melanesia scattered as sheep amidst a
thousand isles.
iS6i.] Installation of the Bishop 497
Good-bye, dear Sophy, my kindest love to dear Aunty,
and dear Pena.
Your loving Cousin,
J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop.
The last day of February was that of the Installa-
tion.
Again Mrs. Abraham must speak : —
On Thursday last we had another happy day
at Kohimarama, where Bishop Patteson was duly
installed in the temporary chapel of St. Andrew's
College, as we hope to call it, after the church at
Cocksmoor, in ' The Daisy Chain.' The morning was
grey, and we feared rain would keep us ladies away,
but we made the venture with our willing squire,
Mr. M , in the ' Iris' boat to help us. The pity
was, that after all Lady Martin could not go, as she
had an invalid among her Maori tlock, whom she
could not trust all day by herself. The day lightened,
and our sail was pleasant.
The Primate and Missionary Bishop planted a
Norfolk pine in the centre of the quadrangle — ' the
tree planted by the water side,' &c. The Bishop
then robed and proceeded to chapel, and the Primate
led the little service in which he spoke the words of
Installation, and the new Bishop took the oath
of allegiance to him. The Vcni Creator was sung,
and the Primate's blessing given. The island boys
looked on from one transept, the ' Iris' sailors from
another, and Charlie^ stood beside me. I am
afraid his chief remembrance of the day is fixed
upon Kanambat's tiny boat and outrigger, which
he sat in on the beach, and went on voyages, in
' Her little boy.
I. K K
498 Life of yolui Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
which the owner waded by his side, and saw him
(Kanambat) skim along the waves hke a white butter-
fly. We all dined in hall, after the boys, on roast
beef and plum pudding, melons and w^ter melons,
and strolled about the place and beach at leisure, till
it was time to sail back again.
On the Sunday the new Bishop preached at St.
Mary's one of the sermons that broke from him
when he was too much excited (if the word may be
used) for his usual metaphysical style. The subject
was the promise of the Comforter, His eternal pre-
sence and anointing, and the need of intercessory
prayer, for which the preacher besought earnestly,
as one too young for his office, and needing to in-
crease in the Holy Spirit more and more. Very far
were these from beingf unrealised words. God's orrace
had gone along with him, and had led him through
every step and stage of his life, and so mastered his
natural defects, that friends who only knew him in
these years hear with Incredulous indignation of those
flaws he had conquered in his younger days. ' Fearless
as a man, tender as a woman, showing both the
best sides of human nature,' says one of the New
Zealand friends who knew him best ; ' always draw-
ing out the good in all about him by force of sym-
pathy, and not only taking care that nothing should
be done by others that he would not do himself, but
doing himself what he did not like to ask of them, and
thinking that they excelled him.' Humility, the effort
of his life, was achieved at last the more truly because
not consciously.
The letter to his father was again almost wholly on
money matters ; but at the end come two notable sen-
tences : —
t86i.] Tagahnia 499
How can I thank you for giving me up to this
work, and for all the wise and lovln"; words with
which you constantly cheer me and encourage me ?
Your blessing comes now to strengthen me, as work
and'responsibilities are fast accumulating upon me. I
thank God that He enables us at the two ends of the
world to see this matter in the same way, so that no
conflict of duties arises in my mind.
This book, ' Essa)'S and Reviews,' I have, but
pray send your copy also ; also any good books that
may be produced bearing on that great question of
the Atonement, and on Inspiration, Authority of
Scripture, &c. How sad it is to see that spirit of
intellectualism thinking to deal with religion in
forgetfulness of the necessar}^ conditions of humility
and faith ! How different from the true i
Kohimarama : April 29, 1861.
My dearest Father, — As I read your letters of Feb.
21-25, you are, I trust, reading mine, which tell
you of what took place on Feb. 24. That point is
settled. I almost fear to write that I am a Bishop
in the Church of Christ. May God strengthen me
for the duties of the oftice to which I trust He has
indeed called me !
As I read of what you say so .wisely and truly,
and dear Joan and Fan and Aunt James and all, of
my having expected results too rapidly at Mota, I
had sitting with me that dear boy Tagalana, who
for two months last winter was in the great sacred
enclosure, though, dear lad, not by his own will, yet
his faith was weak, and no wonder.
Now, God's holy name be praised for it, he is, I
verily believe, in his very soul, taught by the Spirit
to see and desire to do his dut}'. I feel more conii-
]v K 2
500 Life of fohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. IX.
dence about him than I have ever clone about any-
one who has come into my hands orighially in a
state of complete heathenism. It is not that his
knowledge only is accurate and clearly grasped, but
the humility, the loving spirit, the (apparent) per-
sonal appropriation of the blessing of having been
brought to know the love of God and the redemp-
tion wrought for him by the death of Christ ; this is
what, as I look upon his clear truthful eyes, makes
me feel so full of thankfulness and praise.
' But, Tagalana, if I should die, you used to say
that without my help you should perhaps fall back
again : is that true ? '
* No, no ; I did not feel it then as I do now In my
heart. I can't tell how it came there, only I know
He can never die, and will always be with me.
You knovv^ you said you were only like a sign-post,
to point out the way that leads to Him, and I see
that we ought to follow you, but to go altogether to
Him.'
I can't tell you, my dearest Father, what makes up
the sum of my reasons for thinking that God is in His
mercy bringing this dear boy to be the first-fruits of
Mota unto Christ, but I think that there is an inward
teaching going on now in his heart, which gives me
sure hope, for I know it is not my doing.
All you all say about Mota is most true : I never
thought otherwise really, but I wrote down my
emotions and impulses rather than my deliberate
thoughts, that my letter written under such strange
circumstances might become as a record of the effect
produced day by day upon us by outward circum-
stances.
What some of you say about self-possession on
one's going about among the people being marvel-
i86i.] Thoughts on Missionary Work 501
lous, is just what of course appears to me common-
place. Of course It is wrong to risk one's life, but to
carry one's life in one's hand is what other soldiers
besides those of the Cross do habitually ; and no one,
as I think, would willingly hurt a hair of my head
in Melanesia, or that part of it where I am at all
known.
How I think of those islands ! How I see those
bright coral and sandy beaches, strips of burning
sunshine fringing the masses of forest rising into
ridges of hills, covered with a dense mat of vegeta-
tion. Hundreds of people are crowding upon them,
naked, armed, with wild uncouth cries and gestures ;
I cannot talk to them but by signs. But they are
my children now ! May God enable me to do my
duty to them !
I have now as I write a deepening sense of what
the change must be that has passed upon me. Again
I go by God's blessing for seven months to Melanesia.
All that our experience has taught us we try to re-
member : food, medicine, articles of trade and barter.
But what may be the result ? Who can tell ?
You know it is not of myself that I am thinking.
If God of His great mercy lead me in His way, to
me there is little worth living for but the going on-
ward with His blessed work, though I like my talks
with the dear Bishop and the Judge. But others
are committed to me — Mr. Pritt and Mr. Kerr go
with me. Shall I find dear old Wadrokala and Harper
alive, and if alive, well ?
And yet, thank God, we go on, day by day, so
happy, so hopeful !
I see two sermons by the Bishop of Oxford, ' God's
Revelation Man's Trial,'please send them. They bear,
I conclude, on the controversy of the day. I need
502 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
not tell you that I find a very great Interest In read-
ing these books, or rather at present In talking now
and then, when we meet, with the Judge on the
subject of which those books treat. The books I
have not read. But I know no refreshment so great
as the reading any books which deal with these
questions thoughtfully. I hope you don't think It
wrong and dangerous for me to do so ; pray tell me.
I don't believe that I am wrong In doing it, yet it
may be that I read them as an intellectual treat, and
prefer them to thoughtful l^ooks on other subjects
because they deal with a study which I am a little
more conversant with than with history, science, &c.
Besides, I do see that we have, many of us, very
vague notions of the meaning of terms vvdiich we use,
and I see that I must be prepared (I speak for my-
self) to expect that a clergyman may not with im-
punity use a language wanting In definlteness and
precision. It is possible that men do too passively
receive hereditary and conventional opinions which
never have a living reality to them. But this, you
know, I do not confound with the humble submission
to authoritative teaching, given upon authority, to
supersede the necessity of every person investigating
for himself the primary grounds of his religious
convictions.
It is quite evident that the verdict passed by you,
and generally by the Bishops and others at home,
must be conclusive to all persons of ordinary humility
as to * Essays and Reviews.' I do not, I hope, express
the slightest disposition to trille with so solemn a
matter If I say that a personal knowledge of an
author's idiosyncrasy may enable a man to account
for some things which to him by reason of that
personal knowledge appear less startling than they
1 86 1.] Controversies of the Day 503
do to a stranger. This docs not affect the general
import of a man's words or writings. I have only
glanced at Jowett's Essay in that volume, I cannot
profess to know anything about it. But I should
like to ask him this simple question : — Have the
clergy of the Churcli of England, or have they not,
a positive teaching committed to their trust, which
they are commissioned to deliver ? If they have, is it
conceivable that upon his principle of interpretation
such positive teaching can be intelligible to the great
mass of the people ? Is scientific enquiry to be
substituted for the simple acceptance of authorised
creeds ? Is there to be professedly an esoteric treat-
ment of all doctrinal truth ?
Meanwhile the book and the consciousness of the
existence among us of the spirit which produced the
book, may result in calling forth a greater appreciation
of the necessity of a more distinct teaching of dogmatic
theology.
It is worth noting how the Bishop submits his
reading to his father's approval, as when he was a
young boy. Alas ! no more such letters of comfort
and counsel would be exchanged. This one could
hardly have been received by that much-loved father.
Preparations for the voyage were going on ; but the
' Dunedin,' the only vessel to be procured, at best a
cart-horse to a racer compared with the ' Southern
Cross,' was far from being in a satisfactory state, as
appears in a note of the 3rd of May to the Bishop of
Wellington : —
Here we are still. The only vessel that I could
make any arrangement about not yet returned, and
known to be in such a state that the pumps were
going every two hours. I have not chartered her,.
504 Life of Johii Coleridge Patteson [Cn. ix.
but only agreed with the owner a month ago nearly
that I would take her at a certain sum per day,
subject to divers conditions about being caulked
(which is all she wants, I have ascertained), being
provided with spare sails, spars, chronometer, boat,
&€., and all agreement to be off unless by a certain
day (already past) she was in a state satisfactory
to Mr. Kerr. But there is, I fear, none other, and I
am in a difficulty.
Thank God, the weather is not cold, though rough
and wet, and my small party continues in excellent
health and spirits.
My dear Father has not been so well — not, as far as
I can see, breaking up yet, but still I am trying to
hold myself in readiness for what may come. ... I
know you will not fail to think of us all, and especially
of me. Sometimes I think it hardly can be real.
Of the same day is a letter to the Rev. Stephen
Hawtrey : —
Taurarua, Auckland : May 6, 1861.
My dear Mr. Hawtrey, — I was highly pleased to re-
ceive a note from you. Though I never doubt of
■ the hearty sympathy and co-operation of all Eton
friends (how could you do so with such an annual
subscription list ?), yet it is very pleasant and more
than pleasant to be reminded by word or by letter
that prayers and wishes are being offered up for
Melanesia by many good men throughout the world.
I hope my letter to Dr. Goodford will make our
present position and our future prospects intelligible
to you. I should like to send a special appeal for a
Mission Vessel by the next mail. We cannot get on
without one. Vessels built for freight are to the
' Southern Cross ' as a cart-horse to a thoroughbred
186 1.] Need of a Mission Vessel 505
steed, and we must have some vessel which can. do
the work quickly among the multitude of the isles,
and man)^ other reasons there are which we seamen
only perhaps can judge fully, which make it quite
essential to the carrying on this peculiar Mission that
we should have a vessel bi a peculiar kind.
I trust that by God's mercy I may find Wadro-
kala and Harper, two Nengone young men of
(say) twenty-four and seventeen respectively, at their
island, recovered from a fearful illness which nearly
carried them off last October and November. They
spent last winter with me on the Banks Islands.
For years they have been with us. I trust that by
God's blessing they may ere long be ordained.
They have for three or four years been regular
communicants. They would be here now, but they
were so ill when I touched at Nens^one in November
that I dared not bring them on to New Zealand,
though they even then wished to come.
Tagalana, from Mota (Sugar Loaf Island), in the
Banks archipelago, is, I think, likely by God's great
mercy to become the first-fruits of that cluster of
islands unto Christ. He is here for the third time ;
and I have infinite comfort in seeinQf the earnestness
of his character, and the deep sense of what he was,
and what he is going to be, so truly realised.
He is now so unlike what still his people are, so
bright and open in manner, and all who see him
say, ' What is come to the lad, his manner and very
appearance so changed ! ' ' Clothed,' thank God, he
is, ' and in his right mind,' soon to sit, if not already
seated, at the feet of Christ. You may, if you think
fit, let your thoughts centre more especially in him.
He, of all who have come into my hands absolutely
stark naked and savage, gives now the greatest
5o6 Life of Jo Jin Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
ground for hope and thanksgiving. I shall (D.V.)
think of all your dear friends assembled in your
church and house on St. Barnabas Day. May God
bless and reward you all for your work of charity
to Melanesia !
Very sincerely yours,
J. C. Patteson (Missionary Bishop).
P.S. — I hope to baptize that dear boy Tagalana on
his own island in the course of the winter. I should
wish to make the service as impressive as possible,
in the presence of as many islanders as I can bring
to the spot, under the shadow of a mighty banyan
tree, and above the sparkling waves of the great
Pacific.
The * Dunedin ' was patched up into sailing with
the new Bishop for his cathedral — the banyan tree of
Mota.
It carried him away to his work, away from all
knowledge of the blow that was preparing for him at
home, and thinking of the delight that was in store
for his family in a visit from Mrs. Selwyn, who, im-
mediately before his Consecration, had returned home
to spend a year in England on business.
Sir John Patteson's happiness in his son's work and
worth were far greater than those of the actual worker,
having none of the drawbacks that consciousness of
weakness must necessarily excite. The joy this gave
his heart may, without exaggeration, be deliberately
said to have been full compensation for the loss of the
presence so nobly sacrificed. On January 22 he had
written to the Bishop of New Zealand : —
You write most kindly touching him, dear fellow,
and truly I am to be envied, qui natinn Jiabcrcni
tali ingenio prcedilion. Not for a moment have I
1 86 1.] Illness of Sh' John Pattcson 507
repented of giving' my sanction to his going out to
New Zealand ; and I fully believe that God will
prosper his work, I did not contemplate his be-
coming a Bishop, nor is that the circumstance which
gives me the great satisfaction I feel. It is his
devotion to so good a work, and that he should have
been found adequate to its performance ; whether as
a Bishop or as a Priest is not of itself of so much
importance.
Perhaps he may have been consecrated before
I am writing this, though I am puzzled as to the
time. . . .
May God bless with the fullest success the labours
of both of you in your high and Christian works !
There had for more than a year been cause of
anxiety for Sir John's health, but it was not the disease,
that had then threatened, which occasioned the follow-
ing calm-hearted letter to be written to his son : —
Feniton Court : March 22, i86r.
My own dearest Coley, — I promised always to tell you
the truth respecting myself, and will do so. About
a month ago, on my rising from reading prayers, the
girls and the Dawlish party who were here exclaimed
that my voice was broken, at which I laughed.
Whitby was in London, but his partner happened
to call, and looking at my throat found It relaxed,
and recommended a mustard poultice on the front.
When we came to put it on, we discovered that the
glands of the throat were much swelled and in hard
knots. Whitby returned in two days, and was much
alarmed. He declared that It was serious, and
nothing but Iodine could check it. I had been
unable to take Iodine under Watson some years ago,
as it affected my head tremenclousl)^ so he applied
5o8 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. IX.
it outwardly by painting ; this painting did not re-
duce them, and he strongly pressed my having
London advice, for he said that if not reduced and
the swellings increased internally, they would press
on the windpipe and choke me : it was somewhat a
surgical matter. So on Tuesday the 12th inst. we
went to London, and I consulted Paget. He entirely
agreed with Whitby, and thought it very serious,
and ordered iodine internally at all hazards. I took
it, and by God's mercy it agreed with me. Paget
wished to talk over the case with Watson, and they
met on the i6th, Saturday. They quite agreed, and
did not conceal from me that if iodine did not reduce
the swellings, and they should increase internally, the
result must be fatal. How soon, or in what particular
manner, they could not tell ; it might even become
cancerous. They did not wish me to stay in town,
but thought I was better here, and Paget, knowing
Whitby, has perfect confidence in his watching, and
will correspond with him, if necessary. At present
there is no reduction of the swellinQ;s. The iodine
has certainly lessened the pains in my limbs, but
does not seem, so to speak, to determine to the
throat, but it may be there has been hardly time to
say that it will not. My own impression is, that it
will not, and that it is highly improbable that I shall
last very long. I mean that I shall not see 1862,
nor perhaps the summer or autumn of this year. I
cannot tell why, but this near prospect of death has
not given me any severe shock, as perhaps it ought
to have done. It brings more than ever to my
mind serious recollection of the sins of my youth,
and the shortcomings of my after life in thousands
of instances. I have never been a hardened sinner,
but years ago, if I did what was sin, it smote mc,
1 86 1 .] Increasing Illness 509
and I tried to repent ; yet there has always been
in me a want of fervid love to God, and to my
blessed Redeemer for His unspeakable love in suffer-
ing for my sins ; but it has been cold — that may
have been the natural constitution of the man, I
cannot tell — but I never have placed my hopes of
forgiveness and of blessedness hereafter in anything
but in His merits, and most undeserved goodness in
offering me salvation, if I have not thrown it away.
But what shall I say ? As the time approaches, it
may please Him in his mercy to give me a warmer
heart, and a more vivid perception of all that He has
done for me. If I were to say that I am not a
sinner, the truth w^ould not be in me ; and if I am
washed in His blood and cleansed, it is not by any
efforts or merits of my own, but by His unlimited
mercy and goodness. Pray for me, that when the
time comes I may not for any fears of death fall
from Him. You know that as far as regards this
world and its enjoyments, save the love of my dear
good children, they have sate but lightly upon me
for some time ; but it is not because we have no-
thing that we are unwilling to leave, therefore we
are prepared for that which is to come. Perhaps it
may please God to give me still a short time that I
may try more strenuously to prepare myself. We
shall never meet again in this world. Oh ! may
Almighty God in His infinite mercy grant us to meet
again in His kingdom, through the merits of our
blessed Redeemer. . . .
Oh ! my dearest Coley, what comfort I have had
in you — what delightful conversations we have had
together, and how thankful we ought to be to our
gracious God for allowing it to be so : and still not
less thankful for the blessings of being watched and
5IO Life of John Coleridge Pailesoii [Ch. IX.
comforted and soothed by the dear gu'ls, and by
that dear and good Jem. All so good in their
various ways, and I so little worthy of them ... of
Francis.^ That will indeed, humanely speaking, be
a terrible loss to his family, for they want his fatherly
care, and will do so for years. Not so with me ; and
as I am in my seventy-second year, it cannot be said
that I am cut off prematurely ; but on the contrary,
fall like a fruit or a sheaf at its proper ripeness. Oh !
that It may be so spiritually indeed.
Another letter followed the next month.
Fcniton Coiiit : April 24, 1861.
My own dearest Coley, — How many more letters you
may receive from me, God only knows, but, as I
think, not many. The iodine fails altogether, and
has produced no effect on the swellings in my
throat ; on the contrary, they steadily increase,
though not rapidly. Doubtless they will have their
own course, and in someway or other deliver my
soul from the burden of the flesh. Oh ! may it by
God's mercy be the soul of a faithful man ! Faith
and love I think I have, and have long had : but
I am not so sure that I have really repented for my
past sins, or only abandoned them when circum-
stances had removed almost the temptation to
commit them. Yet I do trust that my repentance
has generally been sincere, and though I may have
fallen again, that I may by God's grace have risen
airain. I have no assurance that I have fouo'ht the
good fight like St. Paul, and that henceforth there
is laid up a crown of gold ; }'ct I have a full and
linn li()])c that I am not be)ond the pale of God's
' Jliis alludcb l(j tlic long and lingering illness of l'"rancis Coleridge,
the eldest of Ihc nuich-loved familv al the Manor House.
1 86 1.] Increasing Ilbicss 511
mercy, and that I may have hold of the righteous-
ness of Christ, and may be partaker of that happi-
ness which He has purchased for His own by His
atoning blood. No other hope have I ; and in all
humility I from my heart feel that any apparent
good that I may have done has been His work in
me and not my own. May it please Him that you
and I, my dear son, may meet hereafter together
with all those blessed ones, who have already
departed this life in His faith and fear, in His
kingdom above.
My head aches occasionally, and is not so clear as
it used to be. . . . The next mail will bring us more
definite news, if indeed I am not myself removed
before then. ... I am afraid that you discern by
what I have written that I am become stupid, and
though I could never write decently, yet you will
see that continued dull pain in the head, and other
pains in various parts, have made me altogether
heavy and stupid. I have had the kindest letters
and messages from various quarters when it became
known, as it is always very soon, that my health
was in a precarious state : one particularly from the
Bishop of Lichfield^ (all companions in Old Court,
King's, you know) which is very consoling. He
says. If not for such as you, for whom did Christ
die ? I will not go on in such strains, for it is of no
use. Only do not despair of me, my beloved Son,
and believe me always,
Your loving Father,
J. Pattkson.
' Bishop Lonsdale.
512 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [ch. IX.
Feniton Court : May 25, 1861,
O my own dearest Coley, — Almighty God be thanked
that he has preserved my Hfe to hear from you and
others of your actual consecration as a Missionary
Bishop of the Holy Catholic Church : and may He
enable you by His grace and the powerful assistance
of His Spirit to bring to His Faith and fear very
many who have not known Him, and to keep and
preserve in it many others who already profess and
call themselves Christians.
I was too ill to be present at the whole service on
Sunday, but I attended the Holy Sacrament, and
hope to do so to-morrow. We have with us our
dear Sarah Selwyn, who came on Thursday : she
came in the most kind and affectionate spirit, the
first visit that she could make, that she might if
possible see me : ' I will go and see him before he
dies.' What delight this has been to me you may
easily imagine, and what talk, and what anecdotes
we have had about you and all your circle ; for
though your letters have all along let us in wonder-
fully into your daily life, yet there were many things
to be filled up, which we have now seen more clearly
and more perfectly recollect as long as our lives are
spared.
What at present intensely fills our hearts and
minds is all that took place on St. Matthias Day,
and the day or two before and after. Passages and
circumstances there were, which it is almost wonder-
ful that you all could respectively bear, some affect-
ing one the more and sonie the other ; but the
absorbing feeling that a great work was then done,
and the ardent trust and prayer that it might turn
out to the glory of God, and the good of mankind,
supported every one, I have no doubt. It was
1 86 1.] Last Days of Sii^ JoJui Pattcson 513
about one of those days that I was first informed of the
nature of the complaint which had just been dis-
covered, and which is bringing me gradually to the
grave.
Trinity Sunday. — I am just returned from receiv-
ing the Holy Sacrament. You will do so the same
in a few hours, and they may well be joined together,
and probably the last that you and I shall receive
together in this world. My time is probably very
short. Dear Sarah will hereafter tell you more par-
ticulars of these few days. Dear Joan and Fanny are
watching me continually ; it is hard work for them
continually and most uncertain, but in my mind it
cannot be very long. Jem is here helping them
continually, but his wife's mother is grievously ill
at a relation's in Gloucestershire, and I will not have
him withdrawn from her. I hope that next week
she may be removed to Jem's new cottage, next
Hyde Park, and then they, Joan and Fanny will
watch me, and Jem on a telegraph notice may come
to me. If I dare express a hope, it is that this
state of things may not last long. But I have no
desire to express any hope at all ; the matter is in
the hands of a good God, who will order all things
as is best. ... I would write more, but I am under
the serious impression that I shall be dead before
this letter reaches you.
May our Almighty God, three Persons, blessed
for evermore, grant that we may meet hereafter in a
blessed eternity !
One more letter was written : —
Feniton Court, Honiton : June 12, 1861.
Oh ! my dearest Right Reverend well-beloved Son,
how I thank God that it has pleased Him to save
I, L L
514 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
my life until I heard of the actual fact of your being
ordained and consecrated, as I have said more than
once since I heard of it. May it please Him to
prolong your life very many years, and to enable
you to fulfil all those jDurposes for which you have
been now consecrated, and that you may see the
fruit of your labour of love before He calls you to
His rest in heaven. But if not, may you have laid
such foundations for the spread of God's Word
throughout the countries committed to your charge,
that when it pleases God to summon you hence,
you may have a perfect consciousness of having
devoted all your time and labour, and so far as you
are concerned have advanced all the works as fastly
and as securely as it seem fit to your great Assister,
the Holy Spirit, that they should be advanced.
Only conceive that an old Judge of seventy-two,
cast out of his own work by infirmity, should yet
live to have a son in the Holy Office of Bishop, all
men rejoicing around him ; and so indeed they do
rejoice around me, mingling their loving expressions
at my illness and approaching death. . . .
I shall endeavour to write at intervals between
this and July mail. It tries me to write much at a
time.
Your loving Father,
J. Patteson.
The calm of these letters was the pervading spirit
of Feniton. With perfect cheerfulness did the aged
Judge await the summons, aware that he carried the
* sentence of death within himself,' and that the manner
of his summons would probably be in itself sudden —
namely, one of the choking fits that increased in fre-
qucnc)\ He lived on with his children and relations
1 86 1 .] Tidings of the Consecration 5 1 5
round him, spending his time in his usual manner, so
far as his strength permitted — bright, kind, sunny as
ever, and not withdrawing his interest from the cares
and pleasures of others, but glad to talk more deeply,
though still peacefully, of his condition and his hopes.
One thing only troubled him. Once he said, and with
tears in his eyes, to his beloved brother-in-law. Sir
John Coleridge : ' Woe unto you when all men shall
speak well of you,' adding to this effect, ' Alas ! that
this has been my lot without my deserts. It pains me
now ! '
But as this popularity had come of no self-seeking
nor attempt to win applause, it was a grief that was
soon dispelled. Perhaps if there was one strong wish,
it was to hear of his son's actually having been received
into the order of Bishops, and that gratification was
granted to him. The letters with the record of
consecration arrived in time to be his Whitsuntide joy
— joy that he still participated in the congregation,
for though not able to be at church for the whole
service he still was always present at the celebration
of the Holy Communion.
On the day the letters came, there was great peace,
and a kind of awful joy on all the household. For
many weeks past, Sir John had not attempted to read
family prayers, but on this evening he desired his
daughters to let him do so. Where in the prayer
for missionaries he had always mentioned, ' the absent
member of this family,' he added in a clear tone,
* especially for John Coleridge Patteson, Missionary
Bishop.' That was the father's one note of triumph,
the last time he ever led the household prayers. In
a day or two Mrs. Selwyn came to him, and he wrote
the following to the Bishop of New Zealand.
L L 2
5t6 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Feniton Court : May 24, 1861.
My very dear Friend, — Here I am, and I have with
me your dear and good wife, who arrived yesterday.
She looks well, and I trust is so. She has arranged
her visits so as to come to me as soon as possible.
' I will go and see him before he die,' and I feel
sensibly the kindness of it. What a mercy is it that
my life should have been preserved to receive from
my dear son Coley and from you by letter the
account of his having been consecrated by you as
Bishop of the true Catholic Church. There were
[accounts ?] of that most impressive service, which,
had I been present, would have, I fear, sent me to
the floor ; and you and Coley must have had
difficulty in holding up at those feeling statements
of your having received him at my old hands.
When you so received him, it was known I was
satisfied that his heart was really fixed on this
missionary work — that he felt a call to it. I believe
you know, and I am sure God knows, that I had not
the most distant notion in my mind that it would lead
to his becoming a Bishop, nor do I now rejoice in the
result, simply on account of the honour of the office ;
but because my confidence in the honesty and sin-
cerity of his then feelings has been justified, and that
it has pleased God to endow him with such abundant
graces. May it please God that you should continue
together in your respective governments in His
Church many years, and that we may all meet to-
gether in His kingdom above !
When I parted with him I did not expect to see
his face on earth, yet perhaps I hardly expected that
our separation would be so soon, though I am in my
seventy-second year. But in February I discovered
these swellings in my throat ; which, humanly speak-
1 86 1.] Death of Sir John Patteson 517
ing, could only be cured by iodine. Iodine has
failed, and other attempts at a cure fail also ; and it
is only a question of time when the soul will be de-
livered from the burthen of the flesh. So indeed it
is with all human beings ; but it is one thing to know
• this as a general proposition, and another to know
that the particular minister of death has hold of you,
and that you are really only living from day to day.
For all your many kindnesses to all of us and to my
son, I thank you from the very bottom of my soul,
and pray that we may meet hereafter, through the
merits, and for the sake of our blessed Mediator and
Redeemer Jesus Christ our Lord, that as we have
striven on earth to be followers of Him and His
glory, so we may be partakers of it in Heaven.
Your loving Friend,
J. Patteson.
The July mail was without a letter from the father.
The end had come in the early morning of June 28,
1 86 1, with a briefer, less painful struggle than had been
thought probable, and the great, sound, wise, tender
heart had ceased to beat.
There is no need to dwell on the spontaneous
honours that all of those who had ever been connected
with him paid to the good old Judge, when he was
laid beside his much-loved wife in Feniton churchyard.
Bishop Sumner of Winchester, the friend of his boy-
boy, read the funeral service.
' His works do follow him :' and we turn to that work
of his son's, in which assuredly he had his part, since
one word of his would have turned aside the course
that had brought such blessing on both, had he not
accepted the summons, even as Zebedee, when he was
left by the lake side, while his sons became fishers of
men.
5i8 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Unknowing of the tidings in reserve for him, the
Bishop was on his voyage, following the usual course ;
hearing at Anaiteum that a frightful mortality had
prevailed in many of these southern islands. Measles
had been imported by a trader, and had, in many cases,
brought on dysentery, and had swept away a third of
Mr. Geddie's Anaiteum flock. Mr. Gordon's letters
had spoken of it as equally fatal in Erromango, and
there were reports of the same, as well as of famine
and war, in Nengone.
On touching there, it proved that the sickness had
been less severe there, but that a war was still going
on between the Christians and heathen, and that about
fourteen had been killed. Wadrokala was quite well
again, and had just married a little wife, about thirteen
years old, and already able to read well. She was
taken on board for further education, together with her
husband. Harper was not equally recovered, and
dreaded another stay at Mota, though he came with
the Bishop to Lifu, and there was left as the guest of
John Cho, with whom the Bishop spent Saturday
night in talking over the sadly-perplexed affairs of the
island. 'God will give me men in His time; for
could I be cut up into five pieces already I would be
living at Nengone, Lifu, Mai, Mota and Bauro ! ' was
the comment on this visit ; and this need of men
inspired a letter to his uncle Edward, on a day dear to
the Etonian heart.
Schooner ' Dunedin,' 60 tons.
In sight of Erromango, New Hebrides: June 4, 1861.
My dear Tutor, — Naturally I think of Eton and of
you especially to-day. I hope you have as fine a
day coming on for the cricket-match and for Surley
as I have here. Thermometer 81° ; Tanna and Erro-
1 86 1.] What Sort of Men are wanted 519
mango, with their rugged hilly outlines, breaking the
line of the bright sparkling horizon.
I managed to charter the vessel for the voyage
just in time to escape cold weather in New Zealand.
She is slow, but sound ; the captain a teetotaller,
and crew respectable in all ways. So the voyage,
though lengthy, is pleasant.
I have some six or seven classes to take, for they
speak as many more languages ; and I get a little
time for reading and writing, but not much.
I need not tell you how heavily this new responsi-
bility presses on me, as I see the islands opening,
and at present feel how very difficult it must be to
obtain men to occupy this opening.
True, we have not to contend with subtle and
highly-elaborated systems of false religions. It is the
ignorantia pttrcs negatio7iis, comparatively speaking,
in some of the islands ; yet, generally, there is a
settled system of some kind observed among thenii
and in the Banks Islands, an extraordinarily de-
veloped religion, which enters into every detail of
social and domestic life, and is mixed up with the
daily life of every person in the archipelago.
I think, therefore, that men are needed who have
what I may call strong religious common sense to
adapt Christianity to the wants of the various nations
that live in Melanesia, without compromising any
truth of doctrine or principle of conduct — men who
can see, in the midst of the errors and superstitions of
a people, whatever fragment of truth or symptom of
a yearning after something better may exist among
them, and make that. the point d'appui, upon which
they may build up the structure of Christian teach-
ing. Men, moreover, of industry they must be, for
it is useless to talk of * picking up languages.' Of
520 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
course, in a few days a man may learn to talk
superficially and inaccurately on a few subjects ;
but to teach Christianity, a man must know the
language well, and this is learnt only by hard work.
Then, again, unless a man can dispense with what
we ordinarily call comfort or luxuries to a great
extent, and knock about anywhere in Melanesian
huts, he can hardly do much work in this Mission.
The climate is so warm that, to my mind, it quite
supplies the place of the houses, clothing, and food
of old days, yet a man cannot accommodate himself
to all at once. I don't say that it came naturally
to me five years ago, as it does now, when I feel at
home anywhere, and cease to think it odd to do
things which, I suppose, you would think very ex-
traordinary indeed.
But most of all — for this makes all easy — men are
wanted who really do desire in their hearts to live
for God and the world to come, and who have really
sought to sit very loosely to this world. The
enjoyment, and the happiness, and the peace all
come, and that abundantly ; but there is a condition,
and the first rub is a hard one, and lasts a good
while.
Naturally buoyant spirits, the gift of a merry heart,
are a great help ; for oftentimes a man may have
to spend months without any white man within
hundreds of miles, and it is very depressing to live
alone in the midst of heathenism. But there must
be many many fellows pulling up to Surley to-night
who may be well able to pull together with one on
the Pacific — young fellows whose enthusiasm is not
mere excitement of animal spirits, and whose pluck
and courage are given them to stand the roughnesses
(such as they are) of a missionary life. For, dear
t86i.] Trials to be faced 521
Uncle, if you ever talk to any old pupil of yours
about the work, don't let him suppose that it is con-
sistent with ease and absence of anxiety and work.
When on shore at Kohimarama, we live very cosily,
as I think. Some might say we have no society,
very simple fare, &c. ; I don't think any man would
really find it so. But in the islands, I don't wish to
conceal from anyone that, measured by the rule of
the English gentleman's household, there is a great
difference. Why should it, however, be measured
by this standard ? I can truly say that we have
hitherto always had what is necessary for health, and
what does one need more ? though I like more as
much as anyone.
You have so many opportunities of talking to
people that I write freely to you. You may, perhaps,
some day be speaking to someone desirous for infor-
mation about the qualifications for a Melanesian
missionary.
I trust some day, if I live, to have another ' Southern
Cross.' . . .
How I shall think of you all seven days hence,
meeting in Stephen Hawtrey's house ! How you
will wonder at the news of my consecration, and,
indeed, well you may ! I would, indeed, that there
were a dozen men out here under whom I was
working, if only they were such men as the Primate
would have chosen to the work.
But it is done now, and I know I must not
shrink from it. Never did I need the love and
prayers of my dear relations and friends as I do now.
Already difficulties are rising up around me, and I
am so little fit to be a leader of work like this.
Don't forget, dear Tutor, your old pupil, who used
to copy the dear Bishop's letters in your study from
522 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
Anaiteum, Erromango, &c. ; and little thought that he
would write from these islands to you, himself the
Missionary Bishop.
With kind love to all,
Your loving old Pupil and Nephew,
J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop.
This thoughtful and beautiful letter was written in
sight of Erromango, a sandal-wood station, whence a
trader might be found to take charge of it. The ink
was scarcely dry before the full cost of carrying the
Gospel among the heathen was brought before the
writer. Not only houses and brethren must be given
up, but the ' yea and his own life also ' was now to be
exemplified almost before his eyes.
The Erromango Mission, like that of Anaiteum,
came from the Scottish Kirk. Mr. and Mrs. Gordon,
as has been seen, had been visited on every voyage of
the ' Southern Cross ' during their three years' resi-
dence there, and there was a warm regard between
them and the Bishop. It was then a great shock to
hear a Nengone man call out from a sandal-wood
vessel, lying in Dillon s Bay, that they had both been
killed !
It was but too true. The Erromango people had
been little inclined to listen to Mr. Gordon's warnings,
and he, a young and eager man, had told them that to
persevere in their murders and idolatries would bring
a judgment upon them. When therefore the scourge of
sickness came, as at Anaiteum, they connected him with
it; and it was plain from his diary that he had for some
months known his life to be in danger, but he had gone
about them fearlessly, like a brave man, doing his best
for the sick.
On May 20 he was in a little wood, putting up a
i86i.] Murder of Mr. and Mrs. Go7^don 523
house Instead of one that had been blown down by a
hurricane, and he had sent his few faithful pupils to get
grass for the thatch. Nine natives from a village about
three hours' walk distant came to the house where his
wife was, and asked for him. She said he was in the
little wood. They went thither, and while eight hid
themselves in the bush, one went forward and asked
for some calico. Mr. Gordon took a bit of charcoal
and wrote on a bit of wood directions to his wife to
give the bearer some cotton, but the man insisted that
he must come himself to give out some medicine for a
sick man. Mr. Gordon complied, walking in front
as far as the place where lay the ambush, when the
man struck him with a tomahawk on the spine, and he
fell, with a loud scream, while the others leaping out
fell upon him with blows that must have destroyed life
at once, yelling and screaming over him. Another went
up to the house. Mrs. Gordon had come out, asking
what the shouts meant. ' Look there ! ' he said, and
as she turned her head, he struck her between the
shoulders, and killed her as soon as she had fallen.
Another native had in the meantime rushed down
the hill to the sandal-wood station half a mile off on
the beach, and the trader, arming his natives, came up
too late to do more than prevent the murderers from
carrying off the bodies or destroying the house. The
husband and wife were buried in the same grave ; the
natives fenced it round ; and now, on June 7, eighteen
days after. Bishop Patteson read the Burial Service over
it, with many solemn and anxious thoughts respecting
the population, now reduced to 2,500, and in a very
wild condition.
At Mai the Bishop spent two hours the next day,
and brought away one old scholar and one new one.
At Tariko, where he had been three years before
524 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [ch. ix.
with the Primate, the Episcopal hat brought the
greeting * Bishop,' as the people no doubt thought the
wearer identical. Of Ambrym there is a characteristic
sentence : ' As we left the little rock pool where I had
jumped ashore, leaving, for prudence sake, the rest
behind me in the boat, one man raised his bow and
drew it, then unbent it, then bent it again, but appa-
rently others were dissuading him from letting fly the
arrow. The boat was not ten yards off ; I don't know
why he did so ; but we must try to effect more fre-
quent landings.'
On June 1 2 Mota was reached, and the next morning
the Mission party landed, warmly welcomed by the
inhabitants. The house was found safely standing and
nearly weather-proof.
June i-^th. — This morning I put up the framework
for another small house, where I shall put Wadro-
kala, his child-wife, and many of our boxes. We
had to carry up the timber first from the beach, and
it was rather hot work, as also the carpentering, as I
chose a place for the house where no falling bread-
fruit or branches of trees would hurt it, and the sun
was so hot that it almost burnt my hand when I took
up a handful of nails that had been lying for ten
minutes in the sun. So our pic-nic life begins again,
and that favourably. I feel the enjoyment of the
glorious view and climate, and my dear lads, Tagalana
and Parenga, from Bauro, are with me, the rest in
Port Patteson, &c., coming over in the vessel to-
morrow, which I shall then discharge. I see that
the people are very friendly ; they all speak of your
bread-fruit tree, your property. The house had not
been entered, a keg of nails inside it not touched.
Tagalana's father is dead. His first words to me
were, ' Oh that the Word of God had come in old
1 86 1.] Arrival at Mota 525
times to Mota, I should not then cry so much about
him. Yes, it is true, I know, I must be thankful it
is come now, and I must remember that, and try to
help others who may die too before they believe it'
' Yes, I am quite your child now ! Yes, one
Father for us all in Heaven. You my father here !
Yes, I stop always with you, unless you send me
away. They ask me with whom I shall live now ; I
say with the Bishop.'
How I was praising and rejoicing in my heart as
the dear boy was speaking : ' Yes, I am feeling calm
again now. When people die at Mota, you know
they make a great shouting, but soon forget the dead
person. But I am able to be quiet and calm now,
as you talk to me about God and Jesus Christ. Yes,
He rose again. Death is not the end. I know you
said it is for those who repent and believe in Christ
the Door to enter into life eternal. How different it
all seems then ! '
When you read this you will say, ' Thank God
that I sent him out to Melanesia with my blessing on
his head. I too may see Tagalana one day with
Him who is the Father of us all.'
One soul won to Christ, as I hope and believe, by
His love and power, and if in any degree by my
ministry, to God be the praise !
The comfort sent home to the sisters with the letter
respecting this voyage is : —
Mota : June 14, 1861.
Now, dear Joan, don't any of you think too much
about the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, as if my
life was exposed to the same kind of risk.
Certainly it is not endangered here. It may be true
that at places where I am not known some sudden
outbreak may occur ; but humanly speaking, there
526 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. ix,
are not many places that as yet I am able to visit,
where I realise the fact of any danger being run.
Yet it may happen that some poor fellow, who has
a good cause to think ill of white men, or some
mischievous badly disposed man, may let fly a random
arrow or spear some day.
If so, you will not so very much wonder, nor be so
very greatly grieved. Every clergyman runs at least
as great a risk among the small-pox and fevers of
town parishes. Think of Uncle James in the cholera
at Thorverton.
So with the ' Dunedin ' dismissed. Bishop Patteson,
Mr. Pritt, Mr, Kerr, and their pupils recommenced
their residence at Mota. The Banks Islanders
returned to their homes ; and when the Bishop came
to Aroa, Tagalana's native place, three weeks
later, the little fellow received him affectionately,
cooked yams, fetched mats, and was not ashamed
before his own people to kneel down, and join audibly
in hymn and prayer. The people begged for Wadro-
kala or some other teacher to be placed among them.
The Journal continues : —
On Friday, at 8.30, I started, not quite knowing
whither I should go, but soon saw that I could fetch
round the south end of Vanua Lava, which was well.
The sea, when it comes through the passage between
Mota and Valua, is heavy, but the boat had great
way on her, sailing very fast, so that I could steer
her well, and we did not take very long crossing to
the small reef islands. I passed between Pakea and
Vanua Lava (Dudley Passage), and then we had un-
expectedly a very heavy sea, a strong tide up. I did
not like it, but, thank God, all went well. One very
heavy sea in particular I noticed, which broke some
1 86 1.] Aruas 527
twenty yards ahead, and about the same distance
astern of us, while the exact part of it which came
down upon us was only a black wall of water, over
which we rode lightly and dry. I think that it might
have swamped us had it broken upon the boat. My
boat is an open four-oared one, 26 feet long, and
about five wide, strong but light. She sails admir-
ably with a common lug sail. I had one made last
summer, very large, with two reefs, so that I can
reduce it to as small a sail as I please. By 4 or 5
P.M. I neared Aruas, in the bay on the west side of
Vanua Lava ; the same crowd as usual on the beach,
but I did not haul the boat up. I had a grapnel, and
dropped it some fifty yards from the beach.
I returned Pepentebasa to his people. He is a
good boy, but dull, and I do not suppose that he will
tell them much of what we most want them to know,
but then he is a reserved boy, by no means given to
say much, and there may be more in him than I give
him credit for.
Somehow I did not much like the manner of some
of the people ; they did not at night come into the
Ogamal, or men's common eating and sleeping house,
as before, and I overheard some few remarks which
I did not quite like — something about the unusual
sickness being connected with this new teaching — I
could not be quite sure, as I do not know the dialect of
Aruas. There were, however, several who were very
friendly, and the great majority were at least quiet,
and left us to ourselves. The next morning I started
at about eight, buying two small pigs for two hatchets,
and yams and taro and dried bread-fruit for fish-
hooks. I gave one young man a piece of iron for
his attention to us. As we pulled away, one elderly
man drew his bow, and the women and children ran
528 Life of John Coleridge Patteso}i [Ch. ix.
off into the bush, here, as everywhere almost in these
islands, growing quite thickly some twenty yards
above high-water mark. The man did not let fly his
arrow : I cannot tell why this small demonstration
took place.
When an arrow was pointed at him, it was Bishop
Patteson 's custom to look the archer full in the face
with his bright smile, and in many more cases than
are here hinted at, that look of cheery confidence and
good will made the weapon drop.
Sunday was spent in a snug cove on the coast of
Vanua Lava, out of the way of natives, where the
little boat's crew of scholars could be prayed with,
catechised, or talked to ; and then their teacher could
have a quiet time before night, when all slept upon the
large sail spread upon the beach.
On Monday, Rowa was reached, and a high wind
made the voyage thence unsafe for two days, which
were not however lost, for Pasvorang, a last year's
scholar, gladly sat by the Bishop on the moonlight
beach, when his fellows were gone home, and heark-
ened again to the story of God's love and Christ's
redemption.
When the voyage began again, full a dozen sharks
were seen in the clear water, making havoc among
the leaping shoals of fish, large and small, in watdr
about four or five feet deep.
After a few more visits to the coasts of this archi-
pelago the boat returned to Mota, where Mr. Pritt and
Mr. Kerr had kept school every day, besides getting
the station into excellent order and beauty. Their
presence at the head-quarters left the Bishop free to
circulate in the villages, sleeping in the Ogamals
where he could collect the men. They always seemed
1 86 1.] Fever and Ague in the Mission Party 529
pleased and Interested, and their pugnacious habits
were decidedly diminishing-, though their superstitious
practices and observances were by no means dropped.
The Diary, on July 24, thus speaks of the way of
life : which, however, was again telling on the health of
the party : —
I am so accustomed to sleeping about anywhere that
I take little or no account of thirty, forty, fifty naked
fellows, lying, sitting, sleeping round me. Someone
brings me a native mat, someone else a bit of yam ;
a third brings a cocoa-nut ; so I get my supper, put
down the mat (like a very thin door-mat) on the
earth, roll up my coat for a pillow, and make a very
good night of it. I have had deafness in my right
ear again for some days ; no pain with it, but it is
Inconvenient.
Several of our lads have had attacks of fever and
ague ; Wadrokala and his child of a wife, Buru, a
Bauro boy, &c. The island is not at all unhealthy,
but natives cannot be taught caution. I, thank
God, am in robust health, very weather-beaten. I
think my Bishop's dress would look quite out of
keeping with such a face and pair of hands !
There is much as usual In such cases to encourage
and to humble us. Some few people seem to be in
earnest. The great majority do their best to make
me think they are listening. Meanwhile, much goes
on in the island as of old.
Stmday, J^nly iZtk, 11.45 ^•'^^- — ^ have much
anxiety just now. At this moment Wadrokala is
in an ague fit, five or six others of my party kept
going by quinine and port wine, and one or other
sickening almost daily. Henry Hrahuena, of Lifu,
I think dying, from what I know not — I 'think
I. M M
530 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Cii. ix.
inflammation of the brain, induced possibly by ex-
posure to the sun, though I have not seen him so
exposed, and it is a thing I am very careful about
with them. I do what I can in following the direc-
tions of medical books, but it is so hard to get a
word from a native to explain symptoms, &c. ; be-
sides, my ear is now, like last year, really painful ;
and for two nights I have had little sleep, and feel
stupid, and getting a worn-out feeling. With all
this, I am conscious that it is but a temporary depres-
sion, a day or two may bring out the bright colours
again. Henry may recover by God's mercy, the boys
become hearty again ; my ear get right. At present
I feel that I must rub on as I can, from hour to hour.
If I find from experience that natives of Mela-
nesia, taken to a different island, however fertile,
dry and apparently healthy, do seem to be affected
by it, I must modify my plans, try as soon as
possible to have more winter schools, and, what is
of more consequence, I must reconsider the whole
question of native teachers. If a great amount of
sickness is to be the result of gathering scholars
around me at an island, I could do, perhaps, more
single-handed, in health, and with no one to look
after, than with twenty fellows of whom half are
causing continual anxiety on the score of health.
Now were I alone, I should be as brisk as a bee,
but I feel weighed down somewhat with the anxiety
about all these fellows about me.
I must balance considerations, and think it out.
It requires great attention. It is at times like these
that I experience some trials. Usually my life is,
as you know, singularly free from them.
fuly 3ii"/. — Henry died on Sunday about 4 a.m.
Wadrokala is better. The boys are all better. I
have had much real [)ain and weariness from sleep-
i86i.] Henry Hrahuends History 531
less nights, owing to the small ' tumour in my ear.
What a sheet of paper for you to read ! And yet it
is not so sad either. The boys were patient and
good ; Wadrokala takes his ague attacks like a man ;
and about Henry I had great comfort.
He was about eighteen or nineteen, as I suppose,
the' son of the great enchanter in Lifu in old times —
the hereditary high priest of Lifu indeed. He was
a simple-minded, gentle, good fellow, not one prob-
ably who would have been able to take a distinct
line as a teacher, yet he might have done good
service with a good teacher. We found that after-
noon a slate on which he had written down some
thoughts when first taken ill, showing that he felt
that he was sick unto death. Very full of comfort
were his written as well as his spoken words.
On August I, while the Bauro scholars were writing
answers to questions on 'the Lord's Prayer, a party
of men and women arrived, headed by a man with
a native scarf over his shoulders. They had come to
be taught, bringing provisions with them, and eating
them, men and women together, a memorable infringe-
ment of one of the most unvarying customs of the
Banks inhabitants ; and from the conversation with
them and with others, Bishop Patteson found that the
work of breaking down had been attained, that of
building up had to be begun. They must learn that
leaving off heathen practices was not the same thing
as adopting the religion of Christ, and the kind of
work, which external influences had cut short in Lifu
had to be begun with them.
Soon, I think, the great difficulty must be met In
Mota of teaching the Christian's social and domestic
life to people disposed to give up much of their old
i\i u 2
532 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. IX.
practices. This is the point at which I suppose
most Missions have broken down. It is a great
blessing indeed to reach it, but the building up of
converts is the harder work. Here, for example, a
population of 1,500 people; at present they know
all that is necessary for the cultivation of yams, &c.,
they build houses sufficient for the purpose of their
jDresent life, they are giving up fighting, losing faith
in their old charms and contrivances for compassing
the death of their enemies ; they will very likely
soon be at peace throughout the island. Well, then,
they will be very idle, talk infinite scandal, indulge
in any amount of gulttony ; professing to believe our
religion, their whole life will contradict that profes-
sion, unless their whole social and domestic life be
changed, and a new character infused into them.
It would be a great mistake to suppose that the
English aspect of the Christian's social life is neces-
sarily adapted to such races as these. The Oriental
tendencies of their minds, the wholly different
circumstances of their lives, climate, absence of all
A poverty or dependence upon others, &c., will prevent
them from ever becoming a little English commu-
nity ; but not, I trust, their becoming a Christian com-
munity. But how shall I try to teach them to become
industrious, persevering, honest, tidy, clean, careful
with children, and all the rest of it ? What a dif-
ferent thing from just going about and teaching them
the first principles of Christianity ! The second stage
of a Mission is the really difficult time.
A few days after the foregoing observations were
written, H.M.S, ' Cordelia,' a war steamer, entered Port
Patteson, and Captain Hume himself came across by
boat to Mota, to communicate to Bishop Patteson his
1 86 1 .] A rrival of the ' Cordelia ' 533
instructions to offer him a cruise in the vessel, render
him any assistance in his power in the Solomon
Islands, and return him to any island he might desire.
Letters from the Primate assumed that the proposal
should be accepted : it was an opportunity of taking
home the Bauro and Gera boys ; moreover, there was
a quarrel between English and natives to be enquired
into at Ysabel Island, where the Bishop could be
useful as interpreter ; and, as he could leave his two
friends to carry on the school at Mota, he went on
board, and very good it was for him, in the depressed
state of health brought on by rude bed and board, to
be the guest on board a Queen's ship and under good
medical care.
For the ' Cordelia ' had brought out the letters
which gave the first intimation of his father's state ;
and without the privacy, and freedom from toil and
responsibility, he could hardly have borne up under
the blow. The first day was bad enough : ' a long
busy day on shore with just one letter read, and the
dull heavy sensation of an agony that was to come, as
soon as I could be alone to think.' Arrangements had
to be made ; and there was not one solitary moment
till 9 P.M. in the cabin when this loving and beloved
son could shut himself in, kneel down, and recover
composure to open the two letters in his father's hand.
He wrote it all — his whole heart — as of old to the
father who had ever shared his inmost thoughts.
It may be that as I write your blessed spirit, at rest
in Paradise, may know me more truly than ever
you did on earth ; and yet the sorrow of knowing
how bitter it is within may never be permitted to
ruffle your everlasting peace.
I may never see you on earth. All thought of
534 ^^f'^ of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. ix.
such a joy is gone. I did really cling to it (I see it
now) when most I thought I was quite content to
wait for the hope of the great meeting. I will try
to remember and to do what you say about all busi-
ness matters.
I will pray God to make me more desirous and
more able to follow the holy example you leave
behind. Oh ! that the peace of God may be given
to me also when I come to die ; though how may I
dare to hope for such an end, so full of faith and love
and the patient waiting for Christ !
I must go on with my work. This very morning
I was anxious, passing shoal water with the captain
and master beside me, and appealing to me as pilot.
I must try to be of some use in the ship. I must
try to turn to good account among the islands this
great opportunity. Probably elasticity of mind will
come again now for very pain of body. Oh ! how
much more sorrow and heavy weight on my heart!
I am quite worn out and weary. It seems as if the
light were taken from me, as if it was no longer pos-
sible to work away so cheerily when I no longer
have you to write to about it all, no longer your
approval to seek, your notice to obtain.
I must go on writing to you, my own dearest
Father, even as I go on praying for you. It is a great
comfort to me, though I feel that in all human pro-
bability you are to be thought of now as one of the
blessed drawn wholly within the veil. Oh ! that we
may all dwell together hereafter for H is blessed sake
who died for us. Now more than ever your loving
and dutiful Son, &c.
Such another letter was written to his sister Fanny ;
but it is dated four days later, when he was better
1 86 1.] Thoughts of Feniton 535
in health, and was somewhat recovered from the
first shock ; besides which, he felt his office of com-
forter when writing to her. So the letter is more
cheerful, and is a good deal taken up with the
endeavour to assure the sisters of his acquiescence
in whatever scheme of life they might adopt, and
willingness that, if it were thought advisable, Feniton
Court should be sold. ' This is all cold and heartless,'
he says, ' but I must try and make my view pretty
clear.' Towards the end occurs the following : —
Last night, my slight feverish attack over, my ears
comfortable, with the feeling of health and ease re-
turning, I lay awake, thought of dear Uncle Frank,
and then for a long time of dear Mamma. How
plainly I saw her face, and dear dear Uncle James,
and I wondered whether dear dear Father was
already among them in Paradise. It is not often
that I can fasten down my mind to think con-
tinuously upon those blessed ones ; I am too tired,
or too busy ; and this climate, you know, is enerva-
ting. But last night I was very happy, and seemed
to be very near them. The Evening Lesson set me
off, I John iii. How wonderful it is ! But all the
evening I had been reading my book of Prayers and
Meditations. Do you know. Fan, at times the
thought comes upon me with a force almost over-
powering, that I am a Bishop ; and that I must not
shrink from believing that I am called to a special
work, I don't think that I dwell morbidly on this,
but it is an awful thought. And then I feel just the
same as of old, and don't reach out more, or aim
more earnestly at amendment of life and strive after
fresh degrees of enlightenment and holiness. But
probably I have to learn the lesson, which it may be
536 Life of John Coleridge Pattcson [Cu. ix.
only sickness will teach me, of patient waiting, that
God will accomplish His own work in His own
time.
Some of this is almost too sacred for publication,
and yet it is well that it should be seen how realising
the Communion of Saints blessed the solitary man who
had given up home. The next letter is to Sir J. T.
Coleridge : —
H.M.S. 'Cordelia' : September ii, i86r.
My dearest Uncle, — It is now nearly five weeks since
I learnt from my letters of March and April, brought
to me by this ship, the very precarious state of my
dear Father.
He has never missed a mail since we have been
parted, never once ; and he wrote as he always did
both in March and April. I had read a letter from
the good Primate first ; because I had to make up
my mind whether I could, as I was desired, take a
cruise in this vessel ; and in his letter I heard of my
dear Father's state. With what reverence I opened
his letters ! With what short earnest prayers to
God that I might have strength supplied and re-
signation I had kept them till the last. All day
at Mota I had been too busy to read any but
the Primate's letters. I had many matters to
arrange . . . and it was not until night that I could
quietly read my letters in the captain's cabin. My
dear Leather's words seem to come to me like a voice
from another world. I think from what he says,
and what they all say, that already he has departed
to be with Christ.
I tliink of him and my dear mother, and those
dear uncles James and P>ank, so specially dear to
me, and others gone before. I think of all that he
1 86 1 . ] Time of Grief and Suspense 537
has been to me, and yet how can I be unhappy ?
The great shock to me was long overpast : it is easy
for me to dwell on his gain rather than my loss ; yet
how I shall miss his wise loving letters and all the
unrestrained delights of our correspondence.
It is not with me as with those dear sisters, or
with old Jem. Theirs is the privilege of witnessing
the beauty and holiness of his life to the end ; and
theirs the sorrow of learning to live without him.
Yet I feel that the greatest perhaps of all the
pleasures of this life is gone. How I did delight in
writing to him and seeking his approval of what I
was about ! How I read and re-read his letters,
entering so entirely into my feelings, understanding
me so well in my life, so strangely different from
what it used to be.
Well, it should make me feel more than ever that
I have but one thing to live for — the good, if so it
may please God, of these Melanesian islands.
I cannot say, for you will like to know my
feelings, that I felt so overwhelmed with this news
as not to be able to go about my usual business.
Yet the rest on board the vessel has been very
grateful to me. The quiet cheerfulness and brisk-
ness will all come again, as I think ; and yet I think
too that I shall be an older and more thoughtful man
by reason of this.
There has been reported a row ^ at Ysabel
Island, one of the Solomon group, eighteen months
ago. This vessel, a screw steamer, ten guns and a
large pivot gun, came to enquire, with orders from
the Commodore of the station to call at Mota and see
me, and request me to go with the vessel if I could
find time to do so ; adding, that the vessel was to
take me to any island which I might wish to be
538 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [ch. ix.
returned to. Now I have long wished to indoctrinate
captains of men-of-war with our notions of the
right way to settle disputes between natives and
traders. Secondly, I had a passage free with my
Solomon Islanders, and consequently all October and
half November I may devote to working up care-
fully (D.V.) the Banks and New Hebrides group
without being under the necessity of going down to
the Solomon Islands. Thirdly, I had an opportunity
of o-oine further to the westward than I had ever
been before, and of seeing new ground. Fourthly,
the '^Primate, I found, assumed that I should go.
So here I am, in great clover, of course ; the change
from Mota to man-of-war life being amusing enough.
Barring some illness, slight attacks of fever, I have
enjoyed myself very much. The seeing Ysabel
Island is a real gain. I had time to acquire some
200 words and phrases of the language, which
signify to me a great deal more. The language is a
very remarkable one, very Polynesian ; yet in some
respects distinguished from the Polynesian, and most
closely related to Melanesian dialects.
I need not enter into all this. It is my business,
you know, to work at such things, and a word or two
often tells me now a good deal of the secrets of a
language — the prominent forms, affixes, &c., &c. ; the
way in which it is linked on to other dialects by
peculiar terminations, the law by which the trans-
position of vowels and consonants is governed in
general. All these things soon come out, so I am
very sanguine about soon, if I live, seeing my way
in preparing the way for future missionaries in the
far West.
But I must not forget that I have some islands to
visit in the next month or two where the people are
i86i.] Anxieties of Landing 539
very wild, so that I of all people have least reason to
speculate about what I may hope to do a year hence.
The real anxiety is in tlie making up my own
mind whether or not I ought to lower the boat in
such a sea way ; whether or not I ought to swim
ashore among these fellows crowded there on the
narrow beach, &c.
When my mind is made up, it is not so difficult
then. But, humanly speaking, there are but few
islands now where I realise the fact of there being
any risk ; at very many I land with confidence.
Yet I could enumerate, I dare say, five-and-twenty
which we have not visited at all, or not regularly ;
and where I must be careful, as also in visiting
different parts of islands already known to us in
part. Poor poor people, who can see them and
not desire to make known to them the words of
life ? I may never forget the Bishop's words in
the Consecration Service : — ' Your office is in the
highest sense to preach the Gospel to the poor ;'
and then his eye glanced over the row of Mela-
nesians sitting near me.
How strange that I can write all this, when one
heavy sense of trouble is hanging vaguely over
me. And yet you will be thankful that I can
think, as I trust, heartily of my work, and that my
interest is in no way lessened. It ought to be in-
creased. Yet I scarce realise the fact of being a
Bishop, though again it does not seem unnatural. I
can't explain what I mean. I suppose the fact that
I knew for so long before that it must come some
day if I lived, makes the difference now.
I don't think, however, that your words will come
true of my appearing in shovel hat, &c., at Heath's
Court some fine day. It is very improbable that I
540 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
shall ever see the northern hemisphere, unless I see
it in the longitude of New Guinea.
I must try to send a few island shells to M ,
B , and Co. ; those little ones must not grow up,
and I am sure that you all do not suffer them to
grow up, without knowing something about 'old
cousin Coley ' tumbling about in a little ship (albeit
at present in a war steamer) at the other end of the
world. Seriously, dear Uncle, as they grow older, it
may be some help for them to hear of these poor
Melanesians, and of our personal intercourse with
them, so to speak.
I have but little hope of hearing, if I return safe
to New Zealand at the end of November, that this
disastrous war is over. I fear that the original error
has been overlaid by more recent events, forgotten
amongst them. The Maori must suffer, the country
must suffer. Confession of a fault in an Individual is
wrong in a State ; indeed, the rights of the case are,
and perhaps must be, unknown to people at a
distance. We have no difficulty here in exposing
the fallacies and duplicities of the authors of the war,
but we can't expect (and I see that it must be so)
people in England to understand the many details.
To begin with, a man must know, and that well,
Maori customs, their national feeling, &c. It is all
known to One above, and that is our only hope now.
May He grant us peace and wisdom for the time to
come !
I have been reading Helps again this voyage, a
worthy book, and specially interesting to me. How
much there is I shall be glad to read about. What
an age it is ! America, how is that to end ? India,
China, Japan, Africa ! I have Jowctt's books and
' Essays and Reviews.' How much I should like to
i86i.] ' Essays and Reviews ' 54 1
talk with you and John, in an evenino- at Heath's
Court, about all that such books reveal of Intellectual-
ism at home. One does feel that there is conven-
tionalism and unreality in the hereditary passive
acceptance of much that people think they believe.
But how on Jowett's system can we have positive
teaching at all } Can the thing denoted by ' entering
into the mind of Christ or St. Paul ' be substituted
for teaching the Catechism ?
Not so, writes my dear Father in the depth of his
humility and simplicity, writing to me what a father
could scarcely say to a son ! But our peculiar circum-
stances have brought this blessing to me, that I think
he has often so ' reamed out ' his heart to me in the
warmth of his love to a son he was never again to
see in the body, that I know him better even than
I should have done had I remained at home.
I hope that men, especially Bishops, who don't
know and can't understand Jowett, won't attempt to
write against him. A man must know Jowett, be
behind the curtain, know what he means by the
phraseology he uses. He is answerable perhaps for
not being intelligible to the world at large ; but I am
sure that not above one out of fifty readers will have
much notion of what he really means to say, and
only that one can do any good by entering into a
discussion. I confess it strikes me that grievous as
are many opinions that I fear he undoubtedly holds,
his essays are eminently suggestive — the essays
appended to and intermixed with his Commentaries,
and that it needs delicate handling to eliminate what
is true and useful from the error with which it is
associated. Anyhow, he deals with questions openly
and boldly, which men wiser or less honest have
ignored, consciously ignored before, And I pray
542 Life of John Coleridge Pat tesoii [Ch. ix.
God someone may be found to show wisely and
temperately to the intellectual portion of the com-
munity the true way to solve these difficulties and
answer these questions. Simple denunciation, or
the reassertion of our own side of the question, or
the assigning our meaning and ideas to his words,
will not do it.
So wonderful was my dearest Father's calmness
when he wrote on the 24th of April, that if he was
alive to write again in May, I think it not impossible
that he may allude to these matters. If so, what
golden words to be treasured up by me ! I have all
his letters. You will see, or have seen, him laid by
my dear Mother's side. They dwell together now
with Him in Paradise.
Good-bye, my dearest Uncle. Should God spare
)our life, my letters will be more frequent to you
now.
My kindest love to Aunt.
Your affectionate and grateful Nephew,
J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop.
H.M.S. 'Cordelia,' at sea : September 12, 1861.
My dear Sophy, — My sojourn in the Banks Islands
has been agreeably interrupted by the appearance
of this war steamer, on board which I have now
spent almost five weeks — why, you will hear from
Joan and Fan.
This vessel brought me my March and April
letters, and with them, you well know, the account
of my dearest Father.
Oh ! Sophy, it was a great trial to me to read it
all with no human friend near to sympathise with me
— his own calm, hcavcnly-mindcd letters tended much
to soothe and comfort me, and I felt even thankful
w hen at length at the end of a long day I had knelt
i86i.] Rest on board the ' Cordelia ' 543
down in the darkness of the night and poured it all
out to God. But privacy is a thing not possible in
the islands, and from 9 a.m. till 9 p.m. I had to bear
about with me, as I best might, the knowledge that
already, in all probability, my own dear Father had
passed from us, and it was hard, very hard to attend
to necessary duties and arrangements. The quiet
rest on board this ship has been very grateful to me.
I have not been well, but then I was in good hands.
The doctor told me that I was in for the fever, but I
did not have it, or only slightl)', and a course of
quinine, &c. has set me to rights. In a few days
(D.V.) I shall be at Mota again, and ready, I trust,
for hard work. The real shock to me was not so
great as you might imagine. Almost my first
thoughts were of those clear sisters and of Jem.
What it is to them I hardly dare to think. But they
will bear it contentedly and thankfully and cheerfully :
I know that, yet the light of their life is gone.
Henceforth we must do as well as we can without
him. I did think * Oh ! that dear Uncle could be
with him_, as with Mamma of old.' But God has made
all his bed in his sickness and given him (how can I
doubt it ?) peace at the last.
How I shall miss his loving, loving letters when
the mails arrive! How I shall miss the writing to
him, my great treat and relaxation ! But all this is
as nothing to their trial — my great trial has been
over now for nearly seven years. I never thought
to see his face again on earth, and now he dwells
with God's saints in Paradise. Do not be unhappy
about me : it has been and it is hard work — yet God
is so merciful that I go on and am carried through it
all. I dare not say that it may not be indifference,
insensibility, )'et why trouble myself with such
thoughts .^
544 ^^fi ^f John Coleridge Patteson [ch. IX.
Can I doubt of my intense fervent love to him — my
clear dear Father ? Oh ! no. I must thank God who
gives the comfort and the peace, and the elasti-
cit}' of mind to send me again out to my work, look-
ing onward to the great meeting hereafter, if by his
grace I may be saved even as they. You know the
effect upon one of the necessity of exerting oneself
by reason of the pressure of business. That is my
chronic state. Somehow every minute goes. This
time on board the ' Cordelia ' has been real freedom
from work, and yet you know in lat. 8°, 9°, &c. it is
not as with you at Dawlish ; even I, salamander as I
am, am somewhat enervated by a thermometer much
above 82° or 84° day and night. How you all will
feel this ! That dear Pena ! a second great grief to
her. But she has that gift of buoyancy of spirits, a
' merry heart ' that will make her bound up again,
and go on with her duty whatever it may be. Oh !
if we could see it as it is ! A few years now, and
we shall all be orathered home.
And what is there in this world that should make
us sorry for that ? who would wish to stop here, if
he knew that ' to depart ' would in his case be ' to be
with Christ ' ? Yet I don't really live up to this any
more than all you ; no, not nearly so much, think as
you will of missionary life. I think that I have un-
usual opportunities for doing so ; but it will all be
made manifest some day. ...
My kindest love to Auntie and Pena.
Always your affectionate Cousin,
J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop.
There is little more record of this voyage. There
was less heart and spirit than usual for the regular
journalizing letter ; but the five weeks' voyage had been
i86i.] Return in the ' Sea Breeze' 545
most beneficial in restoring health and energy, and it
had one very important effect upon the Mission, for it
was here that Lieutenant Capel Tilly, R.N. became so
interested in the Mission and its head, as to undertake
the charge of the future ' Southern Cross.' The
* Cordelia ' was about to return to England, where,
after she was paid off, Mr. Tilly would watch over the
building of the new vessel on a slightly larger scale
than the first, would bring her out to Kohimarama, and
act as her captain.
So great a boon as his assistance did much to cheer
and encourage the Bishop, who was quite well again
when he landed at Mota on September 17, and found
Mr. Pritt convalescent after a touch of ague, and Mr.
Kerr so ill as to be glad to avail himself of Captain
Hume's kind offer to take him back to Auckland in the
' Cordelia.'
Probably all were acclimatised by this time, for we
hear of no more illness before the ' Sea Breeze,' with
Mr. Dudley, came, on the loth of October, to take the
party off
He says : — ' The Bishop and Mr. Pritt both looked
pale and worn. There were, however, signs in the
island of a great advance in the state of things of the
previous yean An admirable schoolroom had been
built; and in the open space cleared in front of it, every
evening some hundred people would gather, the older
ones chatting, the younger ones being initiated in
the mysteries of leap-frog, wrestling, and other
English games, until prayer time, when all stood in
a circle, singing a Mota hymn, and the Bishop
prayed with and for them.
' That voyage was not a long one. We did not go
to the Solomon Islands and the groups to the north,
I. N N
54^ Life of Joh^i Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
but we worked back through the New Hebrides,
carefully visiting them.'
Mr. Dudley had brought letters that filled the
Bishop's heart to overflowing, and still it was to his
father that he wrote : — ' It seems as if you had lived to
see us all, as it were, fixed in our several positions, and
could now "depart in peace, according to His word."'
The agony and bitterness seem to have been met
and struggled through, as it were, in those first days on
board the ' Cordelia.' In this second letter there is
infinite peace and thankfulness ; and so there still was,
when, at Norfolk Island, the tidings of the good old
man's death met him, as described in the ensuing
letter : —
* Sea Breeze,' one hundred miles south-east of
Norfolk Island : 8 a.m.
My dearest Sisters, — Joy and grief were strangely
mingfled tOQ^ether while I was on shore in Norfolk
Island, from 6 p.m. Saturday to 8 p.m. Sunday
(yesterday).
I was sitting with Mr. Nobbs (Benjamin Dudley
the only other person present) when he said, ' We
have seen in our papers from Sydney the news of
the death of your revered Father.' He concluded
that I must have known of it.
How wonderful it seems to me that it did not
come as a great shock. I showed by my face
(naturally), that I had not known before that God
had taken him unto Himself, but I could answer
quite calmly, ' I thank God.' Do not be distressed
at telling me suddenly, as you see you have done
inadvertently. I knew he could not live long. We
all knew that he was only waiting for Christ.
And, dear dear Joan and Fan, how merciful God
1 86 1. J Volunteers from Norfolk Island 547
has been ! The last part of his letter to me, of date
June 25, only three days before his call came, so
that I know (and praise God for it) that he was
spared protracted suffering. Shall I desire or wish
to be more sorry than I am ? Shall I try to make
myself grieve, and feel unhappy? Oh, no ! it is of
God's great mercy that I still feel happy and thank-
ful, for I cannot doubt the depth of my love to him
who has indeed been, and that more than ever of
late, the one to whom I clung in the world.
I could be quiet at night, sleeping in Mr. Nobbs's
house, and yet I could not at once compose myself
to think it all over, as I desired to do. And then I
had much to do, and here was the joy mingling with
the sorrow.
For the Norfolk Island people have come to see
how wise was the Primate's original plan, and now
they much desire to connect themselves more closely
with the Mission.
Mr. and Mrs. Nobbs desire their son Edwin, who
was two years at the Governor's at Sydney, and is
now eighteen and a half years old, to be given
wholly to us. ... So said Simon Young of his boy
Fisher, and so did three others. All spoke simply
and without excitement, but with deep feeling. I
thought it right to say that they should remain at
Norfolk Island at present, that we all might prove
them whether they were indeed bent upon this work,
that we might be able to trust that God had indeed
called them. To the lads I said, ' This is a disap-
pointment, I know, but it is good for you to have to
bear trials. You must take time to count the cost.
It is no light thing to be called to the work of a
teacher among the heathen. In giving up your
N N 2
548 Life of yoJm Coleridge Pattesoii [ch. ix.
present wish to go immediately, you are obeying
your parents and others older than yourselves, and
your cheerful obedience to them is the best evidence
that you wish to act upon a sense of duty, and not
only from impulse ; but don't think I wish to dis-
courage you. I thank Him who has put the good
desire into your hearts. Prove yourselves now by
special prayer, and meditation.'
Then came the happy, blessed service, the whole
population present, every confirmed person communi-
cating, my voice trembling at the Fifth Command-
ment and the end of the Prayer for the Church
Militant, my heart very full and thankful. I preached
to them extempore, as one can preach to no other
congregation, from the lesson, 'Jesus gone to be the
guest of a man that is a sinner,' the consequences that
would result in us from His vouchsafing to tabernacle
among us, and, as displayed in the Parable of the
Pounds, the use of God's gifts of health, influence,
means ; then, specifying the use of God's highest
gifts of children to be trained to His glory, quoting
I Samuel i. 27, 28, 'lent to the Lord,' I spoke with
an earnestness that felt strange to me at the time.
Simon Young said afterwards : ' My wife could
not consent months ago to Fisher's going away, but
she has told me now that she consents. She can't
withhold him with the thought of holy Hannah in
her mind.' And I felt as if I might apply (though not
in the first sense) the prophecy ' Instead of thy
fathers, thou shalt have children.'
To add to all, Mr. Nobbs said : ' I have quite
altered my mind about the Melanesian school, I
quite see that I was mistaken ;' and the people
are considering how to connect themselves closely
willi us.
i86i.] Tidings of Sir Jolm Pattesoiis Death 549
You may imagine, dear Joan, that joy and grief
made a strange, yet not unhappy tumult in my
mind. I came away at 3 p.m. (the wind being very
fair) hoping to revisit them, and, by the Bishop of
Tasmania's desire, hold a confirmation in six months'
time. How I am loncfingf to hear the last record of
the three days intervening between June 25 and 28,
you may well imagine. . . . Already, thank God,
four months have passed, and you are recovering
from the great shock. Yours is a far harder trial
than mine. May God comfort and bless us all, and
bring us to dwell with our dear parents in heaven,
for our blessed Lord's sake.
Your very loving Brother,
J. C. Patteson.
And this most touching account from ivithin is sup-
plemented by the following, by Mr. Dudley, from
withoiU : —
He took it [the tidings of his father's death] quite
calmly. Evidently it had been long expected and
prepared for. He was even cheerful in his quiet
grave way. In the evening there was singing got
up for him by some of the Norfolk Islanders, in one
of the large rooms of the old barracks. He enjoyed
it ; and after it had gone on some time, he thanked
them in a few touching words that went home, I am
sure, to the hearts of many of them, and then we all
knelt down, and he prayed extempore. I wish I
had kept the words of that prayer ! Everyone was
affected, knowing what was then occupying his mind,
but we were still more so the next morning, at the
service in church. His voice had that peculiarly
low and sweet tone which always came into it when
he was in great anxiety or sorrow, but his appeal
550 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix,
to the congregation was inspiring to the last degree.
It was the Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity, and
the subject he took was from the second lesson,
the Parable of the Pounds, in St. Luke xix., and so
pointed out the difficulties between the reception of
a talent and the use of it. He showed that the fact
of people's children growing up as wild and careless
as heathen was no proof that no grace had been
bestowed upon them ; on the contrary, in the
baptized it was there, but it had never been de-
veloped ; and then came the emphatic assertion,
' The best way of employing our gifts of whatever
kind — children, means, position — is by lending them
to the Lord for His service, and then a double
blessing will be returned for that we give. Hannah
giving her child to the Lord, did she repent of it
afterwards, think you, when she saw him serving
the Lord, the one upright man of the house of
Israel ? '
No doubt these words were founded on those heart-
felt assurances which stirred his very soul within him
that his own father had never for a moment regretted
or mourned over the gift unto the Lord, which had
indeed been costly, but had been returned, ' good mea-
sure, pressed together, and flowing over,' in blessing !
' How can I grieve and sorrow about my dear dear
Father's blessed end V are the words in a letter to my-
self written on the 29th. It further contained thanks
for a photograph of Hursley Church spire and Vicar-
age, which had been taken one summer afternoon, at
the desire of Dr. Mobcrly (the present Bishop of Salis-
bury), and of which I had begged a copy for him. ' I
shall like the photograph of Hursley Vicarage and
Churcli, the lawn and group upon it. But most shall
i86i.] Comfort at Tatirariia 551
I like to think that Mr. Keble, and I dare say Dr.
Moberly too, pray for me and this Mission. I need
the prayers of all good people indeed.' I quote this
sentence because it led to a correspondence with both
Mr. Keble and Dr. Moberly, which was equally prized
by the holy and humble men of heart who wrote and
received the letters.
St. Andrew's, Kohimarama : November 20, 1861.
Thank you, my dearest Sophy, for your loving letters,
and all your love and devotion to him.
I fear I do not write to those two dear sisters of
mine as they and you all expect and wish. I long
to pour it all out ; I get great relief in talking, as at
Taurarua I can talk to the dear Judge and Lady
Martin. She met me with a warm lovingf kiss that
was intended to be as home-like as possible, and for
a minute I could not speak, and then said falteringly
* It has been all one great mercy to the end. I have
heard at Norfolk Island.' But I feel it still pent up
to a great extent, and yet I have a great sense of
relief. I fancy I almost hear sometimes the laboured
breathing, the sudden stop — the ' thanks be to God,
he has entered into his rest.'
What his last letters are, I cannot even fully say
to another, perhaps never fully realise myself.
As I write, the tears come, for it needs but a little
to bring them now, though I suppose the world
without thinks that I ' bear up,' and go on bravely.
But when any little word or thought touches the
feelings, the sensitive rather than the intellectual or
spiritual part of me, then I break down.
And yet it seems to bring thoughts and hopes
into more definite shape. How I read that magni-
ficent last chapter of Isaiah last Sunday. I seemed
552 Life of yohn Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
to feel my whole heart glowing with wonder, and
exultation, and praise. The world invisible may
well be a reality to us, whose dear ones there out-
number now those still in the flesh. Jem's most
beautiful, most intensely affecting letter, with all his
thoughtfulness about the grave, &c., fairly upset me.
I let the Judge and Lady Martin read some parts of
it, and they returned it, saying it had quite overcome
them. Now all day I feel really as much as at those
moments, only the special circumstances give more
expression at one time than at another to the inward
state of mind.
How I treasure up many many of his words and
actions !
What a history in these words : ' All times of the
day are alike to me now ; getting near, I trust, the
time when it will be all day.'
Those are the things that break me down. I see
his dear face, and hear him slowly and calmly saying
such words of patient trust and faith, and it is too
much. Oh ! that I might live as the son of such
parents ought to live !
And then I turn to the practical duties again, and
get lost in the unceasing languages and all the rest
of it.
The photograph of your dear Pena gives me a
new idea of her — no longer the child. Well, she is
as dear to me now and always will be as when she
and I roamed about the Thorverton lanes hand
in hand. May God give her every heavenly and
earthly blessing ! She is much more like you than I
thought she would be.
We all feel unable to pour out our thankfulness to
God for His great mercy to this land. It is not to
be expected that you at home should know what
1 86 1.] Anniversary of Lady Patteso7is Death 553
we have passed through here. But enough of that.
God has spared us from the full completion of our
sin, and saved us from much crime, and sorrow, and
shame. When Benjamin Dudley told me at Mota,
' Sir George Grey is in New Zealand,' it was too
much. Oh, thank God, thank God. . . . It is a very
very great help to me, this public mercy, for indeed
the existence of the colony, and, worse still, the
existence of the Maori nation, was fearfully imperilled.
Now enough — but I write what comes uppermost.
Your loving Cousin,
J. C. Patteson.
One more letter to the sisters on November 28, the
anniversary of Lady Patteson's death, seems to com-
plete the records of this sacred season of thankful
mourninof : —
St. Andrew's : November 28, 1861.
My dearest Sisters, — I should be writing to him now
on this Anniversary, and think of its being already
nineteen years since we passed through that first
great grief. Well, it is a blessed thought that they
are together now, in peace, and that they never can
be parted more ! How the thought of this, the only
joy in this world as in the next, ought to urge me
on to seek, by God's grace, to teach my poor
Melanesians the only true ground of comfort and
joy ! ^
It is remarkable how strikingly vivid my remem-
brance of Mamma has become whilst my mind has
been so especially dwelling on him. I don't re-
member her face coming up so freshly in my mind
for years. The nice little photograph helps me to
it ; but it was before I had that, that I experienced
this special vividness of recollection. . . .
554 Life of JoIdi Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
lo p.m. — I have read Hebrews iv. — how applicable
to our feelings to-day — and page 744 of Hooker,
vol. ii. Sermon iv., upon which last my eye lighted
accidently. Somehow, the more habitual the
thought becomes of them dwelling together in peace,
the less not only of sorrow, but of the sense of loss
touches one. One cannot wish anything to be
otherwise than we know it to be as far as they are
concerned, and not one of us could wish either of
them back again, you especially who saw the suffer-
ing and the patient longing to be at rest.
Very soon after the return, on the 6th December,
1 86 1, an Ordination was held at St. Paul's, Auckland,
when the Primate ordained two Maori deacons, and
Bishop Patteson, the Rev. Benjamin Dudley.
On Christmas Day, Wadrokala's child-wife was
christened Caroline, and the little betrothed of Harper,
Mary ; and a week later, on the New Year's Day of
1862, the last-named couple were married.
Sir William and Lady Martin spent part of this
summer in the little cottage at Kohimarama where the
sailing master of the late ' Southern Cross ' had lived ;
and again we have to thank her for a picture of life at
St. Andrew's. She says : —
The new settlement was then thought to be healthy,
and he and his boys alike rejoiced in the warmth of
the sheltered bay, after the keenness of the air at
St. John's on higher ground. The place looked very
pretty. The green fields and hawthorn hedges and
the sleek cattle reminded one of England. As a
strong contrast, there was the white shelly beach and
yellow sands. Here the boys sunned themselves
in play hours, or fished on the rocks, or cooked their
fish at drift-wood fires. On calm days one or two
i86i.] Sports at St. Andrews 555
would skim across the blue water in their tiny canoes.
One great charm of the place was the freedom and
naturalness of the whole party. There was no
attempt to force an overstrained piety on these
wild fellows, who showed their sincerity by coming
with the Bishop. By five in the morning all were
astir, and jokes and laughter and shrill unaccountable
cries would rouse us up, and go on all day, save when
school and chapel came to sober them.
The Bishop had not lost his Eton tastes, and only
liked to see them play games, and the little fat
merry-faced lads were always on the look-out for a
bit of fun with him. One evening- a tea-drinkingf
was given in the hall in honour of us. The Mota
boys sung in twilight the story of the first arrival of
the Mission vessel, and of their wonder at it. The
air, with a monotonous, not unpleasing refrain, re-
minded us of some old French Canadian ditties. I
remember well the excitement when the Bishop sent
up a fire-balloon. It sailed slowly towards the sea,
and down rushed the whole Melanesian party,
shrieking with delight after it. Our dear friend's
own quarters were very tiny, and a great contrast to
his large airy room at St. John's. He occupied a
corner house in the quadrangle, to be close to the
boys. Neither bed-room nor sitting-room was more
than ten feet square. Everything was orderly, as
was his wont. Photographs of the faces and places
he loved best hung on the walls. Just by the door
was his standing desk, with folios and lexicons. A
table, covered with books and papers in divers lan-
guages, and a chair or two, completed his stock of
furniture. The door stood open all day long in fine
weather, and the Bishop was seldom alone. One or
other of the boys would steal quietly in and sit down.
556 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
They did not need to be amused, nor did they- in-
terrupt his work. They were quite content to be
near him, and to get now and then a kind word or
a pleasant smile. It was the habitual gentle sym-
pathy and friendliness on his part that won the con-
fidence of the wild timid people who had been
brought up in an element of mistrust, and which
enabled them after a while to come and open their
hearts to him.
How vividly the whole scene comes back to me
as I write ! The Bishop's calm thoughtful face, the
dusky lads, the white shelled square in front, relieved
by a mass of bright geraniums or gay creeper, the
little bed-room with its camp-bed, and medicine
bottles, and good books, and, too often, in spite of
our loving remonstrances, an invalid shivering with
ague, or influenza, in possession. We knew that this
involved broken nights for him, and a soft board
and a rug for a couch. He was overtasking his
powers during those years. He was at work gener-
ally from five A.M. to eleven p.m., and this in a close
atmosphere ; for both the schoolroom and his own
house were ill ventilated. He would not spare time
enough either for regular exercise. He had a horse
and enjoyed riding, but he grudged the time except
when he had to come up to town on business or to
take Sunday services for the English in the country.
It was very natural, as he had all a student's taste for
quiet study, yet could only indulge it by cutting off
his own hours for relaxation. He was constantly
called off through the day to attend to practical work,
teaching in school, prescribing for, and waiting on
the sick, weighing out medicines, keeping the farm
accounts, besides the night classes in several lan-
guages.
1 86 1.] Rides luith Bishop Patteson 557
He was really never so happy as, among his boys or
his books. He had no liking for general society,
though his natural courtesy made him shrink from
seeming ungracious. He did thoroughly enjoy a
real talk with one or two friends at a time, but even
this he denied himself.
A more external account of Bishop Patteson by
Mr. Patrick Burton is extracted from an article in
' Christian Work' (Bemrose), for January 1872, show-
ing his aspect to a casual acquaintance : —
I made Dr. Patteson's acquaintance under somewhat
singular circumstances. In the vicinity of Auckland,
overlooking the harbour and quay, is a considerable
stretch of native land, belonging to a chief named
Paul. It is quite uncultivated. A few horses may
be seen wandering at large ; but the greater part is
bush, with a solitary path leading through it. This
path extending for miles in the direction of St. John's
College, formed my favourite ride, and It was there
I first met Dr. Patteson. We met as stransfers ; but
as we were both riding in the same direction, we
entered into conversation, as the manner of the colony
is, without any formal introduction. His college for
the education of the natives of the South Sea Islands
lay in that direction, and we occasionally rode out
from Auckland together. In the course of those
solitary rides I had better means of studying his
character and ascertaining his views than if we had
met casually in ordinary society ; the more so as he
appeared to be of a shy and retiring disposition.
One could not help being struck with the amiability
and gentleness of his disposition. I believe he was
naturally amiable, kind, and gentle — full of that
charity which thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in
558 Life of yoJm Coleridge Patieson [Ch. IX.
iniquity. To this natural amiability was added the
culture and accomplishments of a Christian gentle-
man. He was a ripe and ready scholar — a good
representative of the scholarship to be found among
the better class of men in the English University;
but he seemed studiously to avoid any display
of learning, and almost to apologise if he intro-
duced a quotation from those Fathers of the Church
whose works had formed his special study. He was
equally reticent regarding his own labours and ad-
ventures among the South Sea Islands ; but when
pressed for information, he gave it readily and
cheerfully. On more than one occasion he had been
attacked by the natives while attempting to land,
and his boatmen wounded. He ascribed their
attacks to the injury inflicted on the natives by our
own countrymen cruising in those seas, and a desire
on the part of the former to retaliate on the first
comer. Isolated cases of kidnapping had already
occurred, though the system of introducing native
labour into Queensland had not yet been formally
introduced. Like all missionaries, he had to com-
plain of the evil example shown to the natives by
many of our own countrymen trading with those
islands ; but there was no bitterness in his complaints
— they were made more in sorrow than in anger. He
accepted it as a recognised law in the kingdom of
grace that the elements of good and evil must both
run their course till the final consummation of all
things. He knew that the tares were being sowed
with the wheat ; but being ' all heart and tender
conscience,' he could not say, ' An enemy hath
done this ' ; his prayer rather was, ' Father, forgive
them, for they know not what they do.' He ad-
mitted frankly that the natives of the South Sea
] 86 1 .] Impressions of the Bishop 559
Islands, who formed his special charge, were physi-
cally and intellectually inferior to the Maoris ; but,
on the other hand, they were less warlike and fero-
cious — more amenable to Christian influences. He
spoke of his own work without too much confidence
or despondency : he had counted the cost before he
began to build ; having once put his hand to the
plough, he was not the man to turn back.
Dr. Patteson belonged to the Anglican school
of theology, and was perfectly candid in the avowal
of his religious views. He had no sympathy with
Romanism, Ritualism, or Dissent. He looked upon
the Church of England as the best of all possible
Churches in constitution and doctrine, and seemed
surprised that there could be any difference of opinion
on this point. At the same time he was a man who
Glowed with social tenderness,
And love to all mankind.
He always had a kind word for the missionaries of
other Churches who occupied the same field, and were
labouring in the same cause. Of all the Apostles
he resembled most ' the disciple whom Jesus loved.'
He had the same tender, gentle, loving nature ; a
heart overflowing with love to God and all His
creatures. ' Being dead, he yet speaketh,' and his
death will do more for the best interests of his flock
than his life could ever have done.
Dr. Patteson offered to show me his college for
the training of the native youths ; but I was obliged
to leave Auckland before I could profit by his offer.
On my return he had left for the South Sea Islands,
and I never saw him again. As I was still anxious to
see the college, a Christian officer of the 65th Regi-
ment, who had been there before, offered to act as
560 Life of yohn Coleridge Pattesou [Ch. ix.
my guide. The place was most inaccessible ; judging
by the state of the road, I should say the visitors
were few and far between. Our horses repeatedly
stuck in the deep adhesive mud, and had some diffi-
culty in floundering out. Nor when we reached the
colleofe was there much in the exterior or interior
to reward our curiosity. It was a plain, simple
building of one story, standing on a solitary spot
overlooking the sea. It contained accommodation
for fifty youths ; the number was somewhat less at
the period of our visit. They were poor specimens of
humanity in every way ; and I could not help thinking
at the time that the instrument had too fine an edge
for the rough work it had to perform. The library
was far from extensive, but side by side with some
elementary works in the native languages were a
number of richly-bound volumes — prizes which Dr.
Patteson had gained at the University. On the wall
was an engraving of his father, Sir John Patteson,
in his judicial robes. These were the only links that
seemed to connect him with the past.
The expression ' left for the South Sea islands,' must
be a mistake for the Southern Island, where Bishop
Patteson went this autumn to a Synod at Lyttelton,
leaving his boys to Mr. Pritt's care. Probably they
were not seen to advantage without him, and a
European always needs experience to read Intelligence
in countenances so unlike the type he is accustomed
to. The dusky skin, and above all, the thick lips, do
not at once excite Interest, but there is no doubt that
there is full mental capacity in many of these Pacific
islanders. The Solomon Islanders would seem to
have been the most spirited and clever of the pupils ;
but apparently they had more enterprise and less
i862.] Plans for 1862 561
steadiness than some of the others, and though promis-
ing at first, were liable to fall back at home, or to
be lured away to seek variety on board traders.
Taroniara was, however, from the first one of the
steadiest and best of scholars. The Banks Islanders
were of a gentler and more trustworthy nature,
and had, besides, the advantage of being out of the
track of the corrupting influences of the trading ships.
Their language, or rather the dialect of Mota, was
thought to be the most convenient to use as the prin-
cipal medium of communincation, and the Bishop was
dropping what he felt to be the hopeless task of
teaching English, and using the tongue of Mota more
and more.
The first letter I can find of this year is to myself : —
St. Andrew's College : May 6, 1862.
My dear Cousin, — I do not like to leave New Zealand
without sending a line to you. We sail probably in
a week or two for Melanesia, and I hope to make
a long voyage among many islands, leaving Revs.
Pritt, Kerr, and Dudley, some in one place and some
in another (including native teachers), visiting them
frequently, so as to remove them, if rendered de-
sirable by fever, ague, or other causes.
You know my feeling about the ' Daisy Chain '
money : it will all (D. V.) be spent some day in a stone
Chapel, perhaps other permanent buildings. God
bless you for all your prayers and alms.
We have never had so satisfactory a set of scholars.
Out of twenty-eight (exclusive of three native
teachers) only one who has been an invalid almost
all the summer is unable to read and write. The
first class (which indeed should by rights be sub-
divided) consists of nine. All may be regarded as
^' 00
562 Life of John Coleridge Pat teson [Ch. ix.
Catechumens. I should not hesitate to baptize them
at once, if attacked with sudden illness, for example.
I am very hopeful about the Banks Archipelago,
though at Mota only has any real work been done,
and there it is but the beginning. I think that from
Fanny you will have heard enough to make it un-
necessary for me to write more, and I have but a
few minutes.
Dear Mr. Keble wrote me a letter when
Fanny was at Hursley, such a great pleasure to me.
Oh ! so humbling to receive such a letter from him !
What do you say to this plan of Joan and Fan ?
If they clearly see the difficulties, and yet resolve
to come, what joy for me ! To talk over all that
took place last year at Feniton, to pour out long
suppressed feelings. Ah ! I must not think it a
reality yet. Much may happen in a few months
even should they come ; and I hope to visit many
islands this winter among which there are some
where I know I must be cautious.
I need not tell )'ou that you are specially remem-
bered in thought when we pray and give thanks
daily for all who, by prayers and almsgiving, are
partakers with us in the ministry.
Your affectionate Cousin,
J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop.
Fanny Patteson had spent several days at Hursley
in the course of the winter, and the Vicar and Mrs.
Keble had greatly delighted in hearing her brother's
letters. The following letter from Mr. Keble was
written, as will be perceived, immediately after hearing
the account of the Baptism of the dying child at
Mota : —
i862.] Letter from John Keble 563
Hursley, February 19, 1862.
My dear Bishop Patteson, — I seat myself down on a
low chair between the pictures of your uncle and
your Metropolitan, and that by command of your
sister, who is on a footstool in the corner opposite,
I to send two words, she 200, or, for aught I know,
2,000, to greet you on the other side of the world.
We have the more right, as your kind sisters have
kept us well up to your Missionary doings from time
to time, and we seem to be very often with you on
board or in your islands (I say we, for my dear wife
is more than half of me, as you may well suppose,
in such sympathies), and it seems to me that, perhaps,
in the present state of your island or sea-work you
may have more time than by-and-by for thinking of
one and another; anyhow we trust that that may
happen which we ask for every evening — that we
may be vouchsafed a part in the holy prayers which
have been that day offered to the Throne of Grace,
in Melanesia or elsewhere. I don't know whether I
am right, but I fancy you at times something between
a Hermit and a Missionary. God grant you a double
blessing ! and as you are a Bishop besides, you will
breathe us a blessing in return for this, such as it is.
Fanny's visit has been, as you know it would be,
most charming and genial to us old folks (not that
my wife ought to be so spoken of), and I shall always
think it so kind of her to have spared us the time
when she had so much to do and so short a time to
do it in : but she seems like one going about with a
bag of what Bishop Selwyn calls ' hope-seed,' and
sowing it in every place ; yet when one comes to
look close at it, it all consists of memories, chiefly
you know of zvhom. I only wish I could rightly and
002
564 Life of John Coleridge Pattesofi [Ch. ix.
truly treasure up all she has kindly told us of your
dear Father ; but it must be a special grace to
remember and really understand such things. It
will be a most peculiar satisfaction, now that we have
had her with us in this way, to think of you all three
together, should God's Providence allow the meeting
of which we understand there is a hope. The last
thing she has told us of is the baptism on St.
Barnabas' Day — ' the first fruits of Mota unto
Christ.' What a thought — what a subject for prayer
and thanksgiving ! God grant it may prove to you
more than we can ask or think.
Ever yours, my dear Bishop,
J. K.
Don't trouble yourself to write, but think of us.
Of course there was no obeying this postscript, and
the immediate reply was : —
My dear dear Mr, Keble, — Few things have ever
given me more real pleasure than the receipt of your
letter by this mail. I never doubted your interest
in New Zealand and Melanesia, and your affection
for me for my dear Father's sake. I felt quite sure
that prayers were being offered up for us in many
places, and where more frequently than at Hursley ?
Even as on this day, five years ago, when I touched
the reef at Guadalcanar, in the presence of three
hundred armed and naked men, (I heard afterwards)
prayers were being uttered in the dead of your
night by my dear old governess. Miss Neill, that
God would have me in his safe keeping. But it is
most pleasant, most helpful to me, to read your
letter, and to feel that I have a kind of right now to
write to you, as I hope I may do while I live fully
and freely.
1 862.] Missionary Pleasures 565
I do not say a word concerning the idea some of you
in England seem to take of my life here. It is very
humbling to me, as it ought to be, to read such a
letter from you. How different it is really !
If my dear sisters do come out to me for a while,
which, after their letters by this February mail,
seems less impossible than before, they will soon see
what I mean : a missionary's life does not procure
him any immunity from temptations, nor from falling
into them ; though, thanks be to God, it has indeed
its rich and abundant blessings. It is 2. blessed
thing to draw a little fellow, only six months ago a
wild little savage, down upon one's knee, and hear
his first confession of his past life, and his shy
hesitating account of the words he uses when he
prays to his newly-found God and Saviour. These
are rare moments, but they do occur ; and, if they
don't, why the duty is to work all the same.
The intelligence of some of these lads and young
men really surprises me. Some with me now, last
October were utterly wild, never had worn a stitch
of clothing, were familiar with every kind of vice.
They now write an account of a Scripture print, or
answer my MS. questions without copy, of course,
fairly and legibly in their books, and read their own
language — only quite lately reduced to writing — with
ease. What an encouragement ! And this applies
to, I think, the great majority of these islanders.
One child, I suppose some thirteen or fourteen
years of age, I baptized on Christmas Day. Three
days afterwards I married her to a young man who
had been for some years with us. They are both
natives of Nengone, one of the Loyalty Isles. I ad-
ministered the Holy Eucharist to her last Saturday,
and she is dying peacefully of consumption. What
566 Life of John Coleridge Patteson [Cm. ix.
a blessed thing ! This Httle one, fresh from Baptism,
with all Church ministrations round her, passing
gently away to her eternal rest. She looks at me
with her soft dark eyes, and fondles my hand, and
says she is not unhappy. She has, I verily believe,
the secret of real happiness in her heart.
I must write more when at sea. I have very
little time here.
I hope by God's blessing to make a long round
among my many Islands this winter ; some, I know,
must be approached with great caution. Your prayers
will be offered for me and those with me, I know,
and am greatly comforted by the knowledge of it.
Fanny tells me what you have said to her about
supplying any deficit in the money required for our
vessel. I feel as if this ought not in one sense to
come upon you, but how can I venture to speak to
you on such matters ? You know all that I think
and feel about it. Send me once more your
blessing. I feel cares and anxieties now. My kind
love to Mrs. Keble.
J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop.
It was little Mary, Harper Malo's bride, who was
thus, like so many of her countrywomen, sinking in
decline. She died a month or two later.
The other reference in his letter is to a plan of his
sisters of coming out to pay him a visit of a year before
they made a new home for themselves after their father's
death — a plan then under deliberation, and which
afforded him great pleasure while he dwelt on the hope.
The same mail took the following letter, in acknow-
ledgment for the photograph.
1 862. ] Desire for L etters 567
St. Andrew's College, Auckland: May 9, 1862.
Mr dear Dr. Moberly, — I have no right to address
you ill this way ; nor, indeed, to occupy your time
by writing to you at all ; and yet you will not think
it wrong nor unnatural.
I hear much of you, as I have always known
much, from friends in England ; and you cannot
wonder at my greatly desiring to know personally
those who take so true and loving an interest in this
Missionary work.
It is not so much because I see your name in the
Ship List at my banker's, that I write to you. I
should not dream of thanking you in the ordinary
way for a gift so bestowed ; but I know that your
prayers and your love go along with your gift, and
for them I may and do thank you.
This last mail brings to me a note from Mr.
Keble. I can hardly tell you how large a space
that little note fills in my mind. It is a real comfort
and help to me ; and a letter from you, too, if you
can find time now and then to send only a line, will
greatly encourage and strengthen me. I know that
you are praying for us, but it is good too to read the
loving earnest words in the midst of my busy, busy,
life ; and you will give me this that I ask for, I
know. Miss Yonge sent me the other day a photo-
graph of Hursley with Mr. and Mrs. Keble, and
you too, so that I think of you all together.
You know something of me, perhaps, from my
dear good Aunt (as I call her). Miss Rennell ; ^ so
that, on the whole, I have some excuse for sending this
note. I sail (D.V.) for Melanesia in a month, hoping
to make a long round, and to visit many islands.
' Daughter of Dean Rennell of Winchester and sister of Mrs. WiUiam
Coleridore.
568 Life of JoJm Coleridge Patteson [Ch. ix.
We number four clergymen now, and three native
teachers. Mr. Pritt and Mr. Dudley will be again
at Mota for the winter ; and Mr. Kerr and I intend,
all being well, to sail together. He has been sadly
prostrated by fever and ague, and I dare not leave
him on an island again just yet ; indeed, I wish to
look in upon the others pretty often. The climate
is trying — not, I think, dangerous ; but we have to
go through an acclimatising process.
The Primate is well, and rejoicing in the return
of his wife and son. How much I wish I had time
to write to you and others fully of the working of
our Synods ; the real power that the Church is
thereby exercising ; the reality in her living organi-
sation, which is operating on man, woman, and
child in this country ; so little comparatively left to
depend upon the individual efforts of the particular
clergyman or Bishop even, but the Church collec-
tively doing her work, and affording her own
guarantee for that work being a permanent one. It
is a great and deep subject, and I cannot write upon
it now. It is, no doubt, a matter of earnest con-
sideration with you all, who know so much more of
the theory, but may perhaps scarcely realise the
actual existence of such a machinery.
I feel sure that you will not mind my writing to
you.
I remain, my dear Dr. Moberly,
Very truly yours,
J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop.
Two more notes followed in quick succession to
Hursley Vicarage, almost entirely upon the matter of
the new * Southern Cross,' which was being built under
Mr. Tilly's eye. The two Bishops were scrupulous
about letting Mr. Kcble give more than a fair proportion
1 862.] Farewell before the Voyage 569
towards the vessel, which was not to cost more than
3,000/., though more roomy than her lamented pre-
decessor. Meantime the 'Sea Breeze' was again to
serve for the winter voyage : —
St. Barnabas Day, Auckland : 1862.
My dear Sisters, — Think of my being ashore, and in a
Christian land on this day ! So it is. We sail
(D.V.) in six days, as it may be this day week.
The Melanesians are very good and pretty well in
health, but we are all anxious to be in warm climates.
I think that most matters are settled. Primate and
I have finished our accounts. Think of his wise
stewardship ! The endowment in land and money,
and no debts contracted ! I hope that I leave
nothing behind me to cause difficulty, should any-
thing happen. The Primate and Sir William Mar-
tin are my executors. Melanesia, as you would ex-
pect, my heir. I may have forgotten many items,
personal reminiscences. Ask for anything, should
anything happen. I see no reason to anticipate it,
humanly speaking, but it is always well to think of
such things. I am just going to the little Taurarua
chapel to our Melanesian Commemoration service
with Holy Communion.
Oh ! if it should please God to grant us a meeting
here !
Great blessings have been given me this summer
in seeing the progress made by the scholars, so great
as to make me feel sober-minded and almost fearful ;
but that is wrong and faithless perhaps, and yet
surely the trials must come some day.
God bless you all, and keep you all safe from all
harm.
Your loving Brother,
J. C. Patteson, Bishop.
I. p p
570 Life of Jo Im Coleridge Pattcsoii [Cri. ix.
Friday, fune ijth, 2 p.m. — How you are thinking
of all that took place that last night on earth!
He was taking his departure for a long voyage,
rather he was entering into the haven where he
would be ! May God give us grace to follow his holy
example, his patient endurance of his many trials,
the greatest his constant trial of deafness !
I think, if the weather be fair, that we shall go off
to-morrow. Oh ! if we do meet, and spend, it may
be, Christmas together !
2^tk, 3 P.M. — The first anniversary of our dear
Father's death. How you are all recalling what took
place then ! How full of thankfulness for his gain,
far outweighing the sorrow for our loss ! And yet
how you must feel it, more than I do, and yet I feel
it deeply ; but tlie little fond memories of the last
months, and above all, the looks and spoken words
of love, I can't altogether enter into them. His
letters are all that letters can be, more than any
other letters can be, but they are not the same thing
in all ways. The Primate has left us to hurry down
the sailing master of the ' Sea Breeze.' It was a
very rough morning, but is calm now, boats passing
and repassing between the shore and the schooner at
anchor off Kohimarama.
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