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 : ā
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 ā children, means, position ā 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 ā 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 ā 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 ā 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 : ā
St. Andrew's : November 28, 1861.
My dearest Sisters, ā 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. ā I have read Hebrews iv. ā how applicable
to our feelings to-day ā 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 : ā
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 : ā
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 ā 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 ā 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
ā 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 ā 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 ā 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 : ā
St. Andrew's College : May 6, 1862.
My dear Cousin, ā 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.