AFTER THE WAR. THE COLONISTS.
(1868-1878).
The heart less bounding at emotion new;
And hope, once crushed, less quick to spring again.
--_M. Arnold._
If the religious condition of the Maoris was such as to cause lasting
grief to their teachers, there was not much in white New Zealand to
relieve the picture. For the crash of the war period had been even
greater than the foregoing pages have shown. Nothing has been said about
the troubles at Nelson, where the earnest and faithful Bishop Hobhouse
broke down under the factious opposition of his laity; nothing of the
depression which stopped the building of Christchurch Cathedral, and led
to the proposal for the sale of the site for government offices; nothing
of the closing of St. John's College at Auckland, as well through lack
of students as through lack of funds. But something must be said about
one trouble which had begun before Selwyn's departure, but reached its
acutest phase during the years that followed:
The colony of Otago, though founded as a Presbyterian settlement,
contained from the first a few English churchmen; and at the beginning
of 1852 an Anglican clergyman, the Rev. J. Fenton, began work in
Dunedin. He was greatly helped by the famous whaler "Johnny Jones," who
afterwards gave 64 sections of land in his own township of Waikouaiti as
an endowment for a church in that place.
When Bishop Harper was appointed to the see of Christchurch in 1856,
Otago and Southland formed part of his diocese, and his long journeys on
horseback through these districts were among the most arduous and
adventurous labours of his episcopate. He retained them until June 4th,
1871, when, as primate, he consecrated the Rev. S. T. Neville to the
bishopric of Dunedin; and on the same day, as bishop, resigned these
southern portions of his original diocese.
But there was another claimant to the office--one, moreover, who was
considered by the English episcopate to be its rightful occupant. How
could such an extraordinary situation have arisen? The blame must lie
(as Bishop W. L. Williams points out) somewhere between Bishop Selwyn
and the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Longley). Something that was
written by the former in 1865 caused the latter to select, and
eventually to consecrate, one of his clergy, the Rev. H. L. Jenner, for
a diocese which was not yet formed, and for a people who always
protested against his appointment.
A mystery still hangs over the precise motives which actuated the
archbishop. But perhaps they can be conjectured with a fair degree of
probability. The letter upon which he acted arrived in England not long
after the news of Volkner's murder. It was hard for those who had never
left England to realise the difference between the Hauhau-ridden north
and the law-abiding south of such a distant country as New Zealand. The
archbishop might well think that his best course was to send out another
bishop as soon as possible, without waiting for compliance with
constitutional formalities. Accordingly he consecrated the Rev. H. L.
Jenner "to be a bishop in New Zealand"--leaving the local authorities to
determine the exact locality of his labours.
But no such ignorance can be pleaded for Bishop Selwyn. When he wrote
the letter to the Primate of All England he was fresh from the great
synod of 1865, where the whole constitution had been revised, and the
procedure in the election of a bishop made more clear and precise. How
could he violate a law which he himself had just subscribed? The only
answer is that he did not violate it. His letter can have contained no
such request as the archbishop imagined. Selwyn himself was as much
startled as anyone, when he found what his letter had led to. But
obedience to authority was the ruling principle of his life, and, like
another Strafford, he determined to take upon himself the whole
responsibility for what was done. It was doubtless an act of heroism,
but a simple insistence upon the plain truth would have prevented much
misunderstanding, and saved the New Zealand Church some years of
trouble.
For the appointment of a bishop there must be the consent of the local
synod, and also that of the General Synod of New Zealand. Dunedin had no
synod, but its church people were represented by a small assembly called
a Rural Deanery Board. Bishop Selwyn brought all his influence to bear
upon this body, and in 1867 secured a small majority on a motion of
acquiescence in the appointment of Mr. Jenner. But the tide soon turned
again. Mr. Peter Carr Young, who had moved the resolution of
acquiescence, was called to England, and found Bishop Jenner taking part
in a service (at St. Matthias', Stoke Newington) whose extreme ritual
was quite sufficient to bewilder an old-fashioned churchman. In his
alarm he sent protests both to the Archbishop of Canterbury and to New
Zealand. The archbishop expressed his deep regret, and soon afterwards
died. The people of Otago were excited and indignant. The case was
remitted to the General Synod (1868). In spite of Selwyn's vehement and
farewell advocacy, that body refused to confirm Bishop Jenner's claim to
the see of Dunedin, though recognising him of course as a bishop in the
Christian Church.
Dr. Jenner was still unsatisfied. In the following year he came in
person to Dunedin, and won over several church people to his side. A
regular synod had now been formed, and everything depended upon its
action. The meeting was held in April. It was the most stormy synod of
our history. From 4 p.m. on April 8 to 6 a.m. on April 9 it debated Dr.
Jenner's claim. Of the seven clergy, four finally voted in his favour,
but the laity, by 15 to 10, negatived the motion of acceptance. Bishop
Harper occupied the chair all through the night, and was subjected to
vehement attacks from the Jenner side. But he showed such admirable
temper and Christian forbearance that the leading opponent, who, on the
first day, refused to join in a simple motion of congratulation to the
new primate, was conspicuous at the end of the session in supporting the
vote of thanks to the president.
Bishop Jenner left the country soon afterwards, but he never withdrew
his claims. In this attitude he was supported by the Bishop of Lichfield
and by the rest of the English episcopate. The synodical system of the
New Zealand Church is justly looked upon as one of the greatest
achievements of Selwyn's life. There is something tragic in the
reflection that he ended by flouting its authority.
The consecration of Bishop Neville on June 4, 1871, raised the episcopal
bench to seven--its present number. But a sore trouble was impending.
The New Zealand bishops were full of anxiety for the health of their
young colleague in Melanesia, and before leaving Dunedin they wrote to
him an affectionate letter, in which they urged him to leave his work
for a time and to seek rest in England. They little thought how soon he
was to find his rest, not in his earthly home, but in the heavenly
Fatherland itself.
Their anxiety for Bishop Patteson's health was amply justified. During
the previous year he had come to Auckland to be treated for some
internal inflammation. Here his patience and sweetness had won all
hearts, and his friends saw him off to his distant diocese with sad
misgivings. He accomplished a lengthy voyage amongst the islands, amidst
most favourable conditions, but he did not feel well enough to attend
the General Synod which met in Dunedin in Feb. 1871. "I regret very
much," he wrote, "that I am unable to attend the meeting of the General
Synod. I know full well how the very life of the mission is involved in
its connection with the Province of New Zealand, and I earnestly wish to
express in every way that I can my sense of the value of this
connection, and my respect to the General Synod." The mission, he said,
was flourishing, and was able to pay its way. But his heart was sore at
the labour-traffic which was carrying off his islanders to the
plantations of Queensland and Fiji. On this subject he sent to the synod
a powerfully-worded memorandum, which, as we read it now amongst the
synodical documents, seems to be written with his heart's blood. The
synod passed a warm motion of sympathy with himself and his labours. The
motion was forwarded to Norfolk Island by the primate, and reached the
bishop on the day before that on which he began his last voyage. His
reply deals with so many points of importance that it must be given at
length:
"My dear Primate,--Your kind letter of March 7th has just reached me.
_The Southern Cross_ arrived to-day; and we sail (D.V.) to-morrow for a
four or five months' voyage, as I hope. I am pretty well, always with
'sensations,' but not in pain; and I think that I shall be better in the
warm climate of the Islands during the winter.
"I did not at all suppose that the Synod would have taken any notice,
and much less such very kind notice, of my absence. Many dear friends, I
know full well, think of and pray for me and for us all.
"The point in my memorandum that I ought to have pressed more clearly,
perhaps, is this, viz., the mode adopted in many cases for procuring
islanders for the plantations. I am concerned to show that in not a few
cases deceit and violence are used in enticing men and lads on board,
and in keeping them confined when on board. I don't profess to know
much of the treatment of the Islanders _on the plantations_.
"I am very thankful to hear that the Dunedin question is settled at
length, and so satisfactorily.
"The synod papers are not yet brought up in our things from the
_Southern Cross_. And as I am off (D.V.) to-morrow, and am very busy
now, I shall hope to read them quietly on board.
"I must end. Melanesians and English folk are streaming in and out of my
room....
"Yours very truly,
"J. C. PATTESON."
How the voyage ended is well known. The heavy mallet of one islander at
Nukapu gave the brave and saintly bishop instantaneous release from his
sufferings; the poisoned arrows of others caused the death, after
lingering agony, of two of his companions, the missionary Joseph Atkin
and a Melanesian teacher. The bishop's body, as it was found floating
down the lagoon, bore five wounds, inflicted doubtless in vengeance for
the violent capture of five islanders by the very traffic against which
the bishop had sent his protest to the synod.
For nearly six years the Melanesian Mission remained without a bishop,
under the faithful leadership of Dr. Codrington. But Patteson's loss
could not be replaced, nor could that of Atkin, who had managed the
navigation department. Many years elapsed before the lost
ground--especially in the Solomons--could be recovered.
Much good work was done in many of the parishes of New Zealand during
the decade of the 'seventies, and Patteson's martyrdom was not
fruitless. But, outwardly, the Church continued weak. Wellington had
lost Bishop Abraham in 1870, and, in his place, elected Archdeacon
Hadfield in recognition of his magnificent services. But the new
bishop's health was still precarious, and he failed to acquire amongst
the settlers the influence which he had formerly wielded amongst the
Maoris. Dunedin was still torn by the party spirit of the Jenner
controversy; in Waiapu, Bishop Williams was drawing toward the end of
his long and arduous life.
The weakness of the Church was revealed in a sad and startling manner
when the Provinces were abolished in 1876. The civil government became
centralised, at a time when the ecclesiastical organisation had lost its
central unity, and its power of bringing pressure to bear on national
legislation. When, in 1877, an Education bill was introduced into
parliament, the Church not only found herself outvoted, but was not even
represented in any effective way. The only parts of the colony which
could take up a strong and consistent position were Nelson and Westland.
In these districts the English Church, under Bishop Suter and Archdeacon
Harper, had co-operated with the Roman Catholics and other bodies under
their respective leaders, and had carried on an effective and successful
system of denominational schools. But nothing like this could be shown
elsewhere. Canterbury had renounced church schools in 1873, and had
reduced the religious instruction in its provincial schools to a minimum
of "history sacred and profane"; Otago and Wellington had retained
Bible-reading, but were greatly divided as to the necessity of its
continuance; Auckland had compromised with the Roman difficulty by
adopting secularism pure and simple.
Three solutions of the "religious difficulty" were thus before the House
of Representatives. No reference was made by any of the speakers to the
blessings which the Christian religion had conferred upon the country.
The torn and bleeding state of Maori Christianity prevented one side
from pointing to it as an example; the other side--if mindful at all of
its existence--was too generous to point at it as a warning. Fear of
Rome seemed to be the dominating motive with most of the members, but a
small secularist minority made itself conspicuous. The Nelson, or
denominationalist, system had broken down in the larger settlements
through want of good leadership and generous co-operation; the
government scheme of elementary Bible-reading, though more widely
favoured, was so feebly advocated that its opponents could with some
justice pronounce it a "farce"; and finally the secular party won the
day by a considerable majority. Nothing was left to the Churches of the
land but the opportunity for their ministers to enter the schools,
before or after school hours, and to give instruction to such children
as might choose to attend.
But the period through which we have been passing was not all gloom. In
the diocese of Auckland, Bishop Cowie was able to re-open St. John's
College, and to place it under the charge of Dr. Kinder. Immigrants were
pouring into his diocese to settle upon the confiscated lands, and the
bishop set himself to follow them up into the remotest settlements. In
small schooners and rough cattle-boats he journeyed round the coast; on
bullock-waggons and on horseback he traversed the almost impassable
roads. Thus he made himself the friend of the settlers, and gradually
provided them with the ministrations of religion.
In the South Island, Bishop Suter, who was appointed to succeed Bishop
Hobhouse in 1866, worked vigorously and successfully in the rough mining
settlements of the west coast, as well as among the sheltered valleys
around Nelson, and the sheep stations on the eastern coast. In
Canterbury, Bishop Harper laboured on with much success, and saw a
number of churches built during this decade.
Early in the year 1877 the long interregnum in Melanesia came to its
close. Bishop Patteson's death had stirred (among others) John
Richardson Selwyn, the great bishop's New Zealand-born son, to offer
himself for missionary work. He was too young at the time for the
episcopal office, and even when he reached the canonical age his friends
were doubtful if his health would bear the strain; but he threw himself
with ardour into the work of the mission, and soon came to be regarded
as its future head. He was consecrated at Nelson on Feb. 18th, 1877, and
soon proved his fitness for the difficult work he had undertaken.
In the previous year, Bishop Williams had just concluded a half-century
of devoted and apostolic labour in New Zealand, when he was stricken
with paralysis, and shortly afterwards (May 31, 1876) resigned his see.
After a considerable interval, an Indian missionary, Edward Craig
Stuart, was elected to succeed him, and was consecrated at Napier in
December, 1877. The retiring bishop lived long enough to welcome his
successor, but was not able to join in his consecration.
In the following year, George Augustus Selwyn died at Lichfield. He had
never ceased to take an interest in New Zealand: in his palace chapel he
had put up a memorial window to the heroic Henare Taratoa; he had taken
the retired bishops Hobhouse and Abraham as his coadjutors; and, in the
hours of unconsciousness which preceded the last breath, he murmured two
sayings which seemed to go back to the old days of toil among the Maoris
and at St. John's College. One was, "They will come back." The other,
"Who's seeing to that work?"