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-] '^^^^ â– ^'â– ^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