CHAPTER VII. THE MELANESIAN ISLES. 1856-1857.

And now, in his twenty-ninth year, after all the unconscious preparation

of his education, and the conscious 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 expedition 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 obtaining leave to use

Norfolk Island as the headquarters 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 1st 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 Bishop might arrange a dispute with the Maoris, and they then

returned to Auckland to take up Mrs. Selwyn. The crew were five in

number, and Mr. Leonard Harper, son of the future Bishop of Lyttelton,

likewise accompanied them, and relieved Patteson of his onerous duties

as steward.

The first adventure was such a storm as the little 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 1 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 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 themselves open, and only by glimpses getting a view of this

most grand and terrible sight, it seemed as if a furious snow-storm

was raging 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, even now. I was qualmish on Saturday, and for a minute

sick, but pretty comfortable on Sunday, though wearied by the constant

pitching and rolling.'

The day after this, namely May 15, 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 original 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 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

difficulties in landing were one of the recommendations of the island,

by isolating the future inhabitants from the demoralising 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 discomfort, 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 recollect 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 strength of purpose, resolution, energy of character,

under these circumstances. And observe, what should I be without some

such change pressing 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, &c., 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-indulgent 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 particular

work requiring such a discipline, the discipline itself is good for the

formation of my own character.... 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 a happy hour

scribbling away, and now to work.'

'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 10th 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 among

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 the 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 resting 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 me, the congregation singing in parts with heart and voice.'

His exhilaration showed itself in a letter to his little cousin, Paulina

Martin:--

"Southern Cross," Sydney Harbour: June 18, 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 magnificent 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, not even in Queen Charlotte's Sound, nor in

Banks's Peninsula, have I seen anything so completely beautiful as this

harbour--'"heoi ano" "that's enough." The Governor told us yesterday

that when he was at Hobart Town, he made the convicts cut a path 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 natural 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 besides. 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 consequence 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-night there is a great missionary meeting. Bishops of Sydney, New

Zealand, and Newcastle present. Bishop of Newcastle and a Mr. King

advocate the cause of the Australian 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 concerning the missions to the Australians

and Melanesians. 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 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 of 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 there 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 training Melanesian

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 other

rumours respecting the Melanesian scholars which made him suppose

that their presence might have a bad effect upon the Pitcairners; and

repeated that his instructions were that the islanders 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 Zealand. 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. Greddie, 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 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 followed 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

accordingly 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 confinement, 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

following on a half-naked Anaitean. We soon found ourselves in the midst

of a number of men, women and children, standing round Mr. Inglis at the

entrance of his garden. I explained to him the reason of the Bishop's

being unable to land, that he alone 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 cocoanut

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 pandana; the fences of the garden were made of cane,

prettily worked together in 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. Presently 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 filled.

'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 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, hemming, 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 breadfruit 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 afterwards 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 time; their counting very good,

and their writing 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 prevailed

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 16.--We got up at four, and were soon ready for our walk to the

south side of the Island; Mr. Inglis 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, tingeing 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 management of native teachers, and we had a

good opportunity of observing the careful system of irrigation 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 water-course

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 provision for the growth of the staple food of

the island.'

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 had 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 containing 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 waists 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 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 pocket-handkerchiefs 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 handwriting 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.

'July 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 succeeded in making them believe that plum pudding

(our Sunday dish) is a fine thing.

'July 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 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, 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, perhaps 20, 30, or even 40 feet long; the general

appearance 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 wooden board roughened like a grater, into a pulp, and then boiling

it into a fine dough.

'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 out of a man's

hand, and then an arrow, and fitted it to the string; he made 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 particular spots and

bays we touch at. But there is every indication here of friendliness,

of a gentle, soft disposition, 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 gentish; but seeing them

on shore, or just coming 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 guides soon

had a good shower-bath, standing under the shoot and then walking in the

sun till in a few minutes his glistening skin was dry again. Coming back

we met a man carrying water in cocoa-nut shells, six or eight hanging by

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 Diddimang, an old baptized scholar at St.

John's; and though he came at last, and dined on board, he had evidently

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 with

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 to two other

neighbouring islets, and then to return again to Bauro.

Kennell 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 with other

people's shells. But nothing of 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, swam

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

peculiar quickness of eye--verily circumspect, though without the least

betrayal of alarm or want of 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 Diddimang 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

desirable. '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 contained 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 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. Numerous canoes surrounded the vessel,

bringing yarns 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 fishhook on this man's nose-hook, 'Naso suspendis

adunco.' 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 population, who seemed to

live inland, having probably been molested by the warlike Gera men. It

had been supposed that there was a second islet here, but the 'Southern

Cross' boat's crew found that what had been taken for a strait was only

the mouth of a large river, where the casks were filled.

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, cocoanut-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 intercourse 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 countrymen instil.

The next group, sighted on the 17th 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. Grera and Bauro owed their names of Guadalcanar and San

Cristoval to him. In 1594, he obtained permission 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 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 discharged

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 there

was little 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

shell, and others had produced two lines of bristles, like hogs' 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 sometimes covered with burning-masses of stones,

cinders, &c. Bumbling 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 ensuing note, how

full now 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 brought

breadfruit and cocoa-nuts. They spoke a few words of Maori, but wore

their hair like 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,

ear-rings and nose-rings of bone and tortoiseshell.'

Returning to Santa Cruz, a large supply of the produce was obtained

by barter, but the people were still in such noisy crowds that nothing

could be effected beyond 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 regained 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 was 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 unconverted, and where their two boats' crews

were massacred, and the boats lost. The ships came to Port Jackson,

in Australia, to build fresh boats, left it in 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 1813

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 procured 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 European 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

shipwrecked crew, nothing was ever discovered.

The Mission party landed here, but saw nobody. They sent a black boy up

a tree for cocoa-nuts, and left a tomahawk beneath it as payment.

That 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 hanging 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 difficult 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 among 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, '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 purchased 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

received 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 caution shown in

approaching this bay, called Port Sandwich, and the boat stopped outside

its breakwater 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 recognised 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 ear-rings, 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 was 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 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 1st 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 was 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 civilised 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 men 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

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 Norfolk Island, and on the next

Sunday Coley was present at the confirmation of the whole population,

excepting the younger children, and at the subsequent Communion. Strong

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 fond, 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 my 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 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 13th 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 Malicolo 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.

"Friedrich der Grosse" is interesting, but henceforth I don't think I

shall have 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.'

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.

'Your letter of March 26 was awaiting my arrival here. How thankful I

am that (as Fan says) in little as in great things God is so good to us.

Letters from me arriving on the anniversary of my departure! and all at

Thorverton!

'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 uttered with their lips after me (i.e. the five most intelligent)

the first words of prayer to their Father in Heaven. I don't venture to

say that they understood 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 our 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 endeavouring 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 opossum rug, with cold and slight fever;

last night his pulse was high, to-day he is better. I have to watch over

them like a cat. Think of living 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 birthday. 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. Sometimes I feel

almost fainthearted, 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.

It seems mock humility to write it; but, dear Uncle, if I 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 we go back to Bauro.' 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 counterpane, and the plaid Joan

gave me over it, a blanket next to him.'

The Melanesians readily fell into the regular habits of short school,

work out of doors, meals in hall and bed-time, 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 Nengone and Bauro were becoming 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 real instruction. Some ideas, I trust, they are beginning to

acquire concerning our Blessed Lord. Is it not a significant fact that

the god worshiped in Gfera, 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 cannibals, 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 perhaps 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 Miss 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.'

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 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 contains 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 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 given at length 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 language, he has

thrown 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 displeasure, apart from actual evil, committed

in wilful knowledge 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 accordingly. Above all, he

realised in his whole 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 fatherly 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 flood

of evil. '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 resistlessly by their own desires, until made 'children of

grace,' and thus obtaining the spiritual power needful 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 inherent 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

nationality, 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 contrarieties between nations might well

appear inexplicable, 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 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 fire 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 superstition 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 their

characters, and met with full response. Enthusiastic partiality of

course there was in his estimate of them; but is it not one of 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 December 8, to his uncle, the Eton master). I

wish you could see them and know them; I don't think you 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 dear 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

loveable 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 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 misconducted himself at Nengone, and

hence I cannot recommend 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 important 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 position. 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 great

Solomon group has been 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

enjoyment, 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. 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

Church, or any other special name, but the longing desire to forget all

distinctions, and to return to a simpler state of things, that seems

naturally 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 happiest 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 capability, 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 unceasing amusement to

my boys. No one of them can retain his seat more than ten minutes, but

they 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 Nengone lads, who had recently made his first

communion, became the prominent 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 I know something of the

Bible, and I can write; 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 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 prepared 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 priests were firmly

believed to have the power of producing death and disease at will by

a curse. Wadrokala, with entire conviction, declared 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 Taranaki, 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

Nengone 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 reasserting a claim

to the Loyalty Isles, and the hopes of making them a point d'appui 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

Muller on the languages will be found in the Appendix. The Bishop of New

Zealand thus wrote 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 goodness 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

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 protector; 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 careful 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 from Bauro and

Grera, 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 might be heard in many a grand

wild island, resplendent with everything 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 Nengone 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 Saturday. The Bishop took the part of

the service which immediately precedes the actual baptism, and baptized

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 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 Archdeacons 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 willing 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

with us, the greatest fault has been a fit of sulkiness, lasting

about half a day, with three of them. Their affection, 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 highbred 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 sufficiently small number, is quite enough to infuse good habits

and obviate evil ones to an extent quite inconceivable 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 cocoanuts in their own land will exercise a counter-influence

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.

'You must be looking forward to your spring and 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 deciduous 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 quarter-deck 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 flash so sustained

that it held its place before our eyes like an immense 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 flashes were so

continuous 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 Eimaniaka, 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 floor 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 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 peaceable, and the presence of women and children was a sign

that there was no danger. 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 grass mat was brought him, and a bit of wood for a pillow, and as

he was wet through, cold, and very tired, he lay down; 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 dropping 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 tire there till at high

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 behaved well.

'The sense of 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 Thorverton 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 might have incurred fearful

danger 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 my 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 satisfaction 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 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 satisfied 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

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 bye,

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 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 go 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, Laus 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 throughout with 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....

'June 4th, Auckland.--We reached harbour a week ago in a violent

squall of wind and rain at 8.45 P.M. Anxious night after the anchor

was dropped, lest the vessel should drag. Nine days 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 I could do. When I offered myself I was allowed to assist in

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 Redclyffe," 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 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.'