There was an interchange of books between the French and English priest.

Pere Montrouzier lent, and finally gave, Martinet's 'Solution de Grands

Problemes,' which Patteson calls 'a very interesting book, with a

great deal of dry humour about it, not unlike Newman's more recent

publications. "It is," he (Montrouzier) says, "thought very highly of in

France." He is a well-read man, I should imagine, in his line; and that

is pretty extensive, for he is a really scientific naturalist, something

of a geologist, a good botanist, besides having a good acquaintance with

ecclesiastical literature.'

There was the more time for recreation with the Pere's French books,

and the serious work of translating St. Mark's Grospel and part of the

Litany into Lifu, as the inhabitants were all called off from school

in the middle of August 'by a whale being washed ashore over a barrier

reef--not far from me. All the adjacent population turned out in grass

kilts, with knives and tomahawks to hack off chunks of flesh to be

eaten, and of blubber to be boiled into oil; and in the meantime the

neighbourhood was by no means agreeable to anyone possessing a nose.'

Meanwhile Sarawia, the best of the Banks pupils, had a swelling on the

knee, and required care and treatment, but soon got better. Medical

knowledge, as usual, Patteson felt one of the great needs of missionary

life. Cases of consumption and scrofula were often brought to him,

and terrible abscesses, under which the whole body wasted away. 'Poor

people!' he writes, 'a consumptive hospital looms in the far perspective

of my mind; a necessary accompaniment, I feel now, of the church and the

school in early times. I wish I could contrive some remedy for the dry

food, everything being placed between leaves and being baked on the

ground, losing all the gravy; and when you get a chicken it is a

collection of dry strings. If I could manage boiling; but there is

nothing like a bit of iron for fire-place on the island, and to keep

up the wood fire in the bush under the saucepan is hard work. I must

commence a more practical study than hitherto of "Robinson Crusoe,"

and the "Swiss Family." Why does no missionary put down hints on the

subject? My three months here will teach me more than anything that has

happened to me, and I dare say I shall get together the things I want

most when next I set forth from New Zealand.... I find it a good plan to

look on from short periods to short periods, and always ask, what next?

And at last it brings one to the real answer:--Work as hard as you can,

and that rest which lacks no ingredient of perfect enjoyment and peace

will come at last.'

Among the needs he discovered was this:--'By the bye, good cheap Bible

prints would be very useful; large, so as to be seen by a large class,

illustrating just the leading ideas. Schnorr's Bible prints by Rose and

Bingen are something of the kind that I mean, something quite rude will

do. Twenty-four subjects, comprising nothing either conventional or

symbolical, would be an endless treasure for teachers; the intervening

history would be filled up and illustrated by smaller pictures, but

these would be pegs on which to hang the great events these lads ought

to know. Each should be at least twenty-four inches by ten.

'Try to remember, in the choice of any other picture books for them,

that anything that introduces European customs is no use yet. Pictures

of animals are the best things. One or two of a railway, a great bridge,

a view of the Thames with steamers rushing up and down, would all

do; but all our habits of social life are so strange that they don't

interest them yet.

'When I next reach Auckland, I suppose my eyes will rejoice at

seeing your dear old likenesses. When we build our permanent central

school-house at Kohimarama, I shall try to get a little snuggery, and

then furnish it with a few things comfortably; I shall then invest in a

chest of drawers, as I dare say my clothes are getting tired of living

in boxes since March 1855.

'I can hardly tell you how much I regret not knowing something about the

treatment of simple surgical cases. If when with W---- I had studied the

practical--bled, drawn teeth, mixed medicines, rolled legs perpetually,

it would have been worth something. Surely I might have foreseen all

this! I really don't know how to find the time or the opportunity

for learning. How true it is that men require to be trained for their

particular work! I am now just in a position to know what to learn were

I once more in England. Spend one day with old Fry (mason), another with

John Venn (carpenter), and two every week at the Exeter hospital, and

not look on and see others work--there's the mischief, do it oneself.

Make a chair, a table, a box; fit everything; help in every part of

making and furnishing a house, that is, a cottage. Do enough of every

part to be able to do the whole. Begin by felling a tree; saw it into

planks, mix the lime, see the right proportion of sand, &c., know how to

choose a good lot of timber, fit handles for tools, &c.

'Many trades need not be attempted; but every missionary ought to be a

carpenter, a mason, something of a butcher, and a good deal of a cook.

Suppose yourself without a servant, and nothing for dinner to-morrow but

some potatoes in the barn, and a fowl running about in the yard. That's

the kind of thing for a young fellow going into a new country to imagine

to himself. If a little knowledge of glazing could be added, it would be

a grand thing, just enough to fit in panes to window-frames, which last,

of course, he ought to make himself. Much of this cannot be done for

you. I can buy window-frames in Auckland, and glass; but I can't carry

a man a thousand miles in my pocket to put that glass into these frames;

and if it is done in New Zealand, ten to one it gets broken on the

voyage; whereas, glass by itself will pack well. Besides, a pane gets

broken, and then I am in a nice fix. To know how to tinker a bit is a

good thing; else your only saucepan or tea-kettle may be lying by you

useless for months. In fact, if I had known all this before, I should

be just ten times as useful as I am now. If anyone you know thinks of

emigrating or becoming a missionary, just let him remember this.'

To these humble requisites, it appears that a missionary ought on

occasion to be able to add those of a prime minister and lawgiver.

Angadhohua, a bright, clever lad, only too easily led, was to be

instructed in the duties of a chief; Mr. Patteson scrupulously trying

in vain to make him understand that he was a person of far more

consideration and responsibility than his white visitor would be in his

own country. The point was to bring the Christian faith into connection

with life and government. 'Much talk have I had with John in order that

we may try to put before them the true grounds on which they ought

to embrace Christianity,' writes Mr. Patteson, when about to visit a

heathen district which had shown an inclination to abandon their old

customs, 'and also the consequences to which they pledge themselves by

the profession of a religion requiring purity, regularity, industry,

&c., but I have little doubt that our visit now will result in the

nominal profession of Christianity by many heathen. Angadhohua, John,

and I go together, and Isaka, a Samoan teacher who has been a good deal

among them. I shall make an arrangement for taking one of their leading

men to New Zealand with me, that he may get some notion of what is meant

by undertaking to become a Christian. It is in many respects a great

benefit to be driven back upon the very first origin of a Christian

society; one sees more than ever the necessity of what our Lord has

provided, a living organised community into which the baptized convert

being introduced falls into his place, as it were, naturally; sees

around him everything at all times to remind him that he is a regenerate

man, that all things are become new. A man in apostolic times had the

lessons of the Apostles and disciples practically illustrated in the

life of those with whom he associated. The church was an expression of

the verbal teaching committed to its ministers. How clearly the

beauty of this comes out when one is forced to feel the horrible blank

occasioned by the absence of the living teacher, influencing, moulding,

building up each individual professor of Christianity by a process

always going on, though oftentimes unconsciously to him on whom it

operates.

'But how is the social life to be fashioned here in Lifu according to

the rule of Christ? There is no organised body exemplifying in daily

actions the teaching of the Bible. A man goes to chapel and hears

something most vague and unmeaning. He has never been taught to grasp

anything distinctly--to represent any truth to his mind as a settled

resting-place for his faith. Who is to teach him? What does he see

around him to make him imperceptibly acquire new habits in conformity

with the Bible? Is the Christian community distinguished by any habits

of social order and intercourse different from non-Christians?

'True, they don't fight and eat one another now, but beyond that are

they elevated as men? The same dirt, the same houses, the same idle

vicious habits; in most cases no sense of decency, or but very little.

Where is the expression of the Scriptural life? Is it not a most

lamentable state of things? And whence has it arisen? From not

connecting Christian teaching in church with the improvement in social

life in the hut and village, which is the necessary corollary and

complement of such teaching.

'By God's grace, I trust that some little simple books in Lifu will

soon be in their houses, which may be useful. It is even a cause for

thankfulness that in a few days (for the "Southern Cross" ought to be

here in a week with 500 more copies) some 600 or more copies, in large

type, of the Lord's Prayer, Creed, and Ten Commandments will be in

circulation; but they won't use them yet. They won't be taught to learn

them by heart, and be questioned upon them; yet they may follow by and

by. Hope on is the rule. Give them the Bible, is the cry; but you must

give them the forms of faith and prayer which Christendom has accepted,

to guide them; and oh! that we were so united that we could baptize them

into a real living exemplification, and expression--an embodiment of

Christian truth, walking, sleeping, eating and drinking before their

eyes. Christ Himself was that on earth, and His Church ought to be now.

These men saw to accept His teaching was to bind themselves to a

certain course of life which was exhibited before their own eyes. Hence,

multitudes approved His teaching, but would not accept it--would not

profess it, because they saw what was involved in that profession. But

now men don't count the cost; they forget that "If any man come to Me"

is followed by "Which of you intending to build a tower," &c. Hence the

great and exceeding difficulty in these latter days when Christianity is

popular!'

In this state of things it was impossible to baptize adults till they

had come to a much clearer understanding of what a Christian ought to do

and to believe; and therefore Coley's only christenings in Lifu were of

a few dying children, whom he named after his brother and sisters, as

he baptized them with water, brought in cocoa-nut shells, having taught

himself to say by heart his own translation of the baptismal form.

He wrote the following letter towards the end of his stay:--

'September 6, 1858: Lifu, Loyalty Islands.

'My dear Miss Neill,--The delay of four or five days in the arrival of

the "Southern Cross" gives me a chance of writing you a line. The Bishop

dropped me here this day three months, and told me to look out for him

on September 1. As New Zealand is 1,000 miles off, and he can't command

winds and waves, of course I allow him a wide margin; and I begged him

not to hurry over my important business in New Zealand in order to keep

his appointment exactly. But his wont is to be very punctual. I have

here twelve lads from the north-west islands: from seven islands,

speaking six languages. The plan of bringing them to a winter school in

some tropical isle is now being tried. The only difficulty here is that

Lifu is so large and populous; and just now (what with French priests on

it, and the most misty vague kind of teaching from Independents the only

thing to oppose to the complete machinery of the Romish system) demands

so much time, that it is difficult to do justice to one's lads from

the distant lands that are living with one here. The Bishop had an

exaggerated notion of the population here. I imagine it to be somewhere

about 8,000. The language is not very hard, but has quite enough

difficulty to make it more than a plaything: the people in that state

when they venerate a missionary--a very dangerous state; I do my best to

turn the reverence into the right channel and towards its proper object.

'You will see by the last Melanesian report of which I desired a copy to

be sent to you, that our work is very rapidly increasing; that openings

are being made in all directions; and that had we men of trust, we could

occupy them at once. As it is, we keep up a communication with some

seventy-four islands, waiting, if it may be, that men may be sent,

trying to educate picked men to be teachers; but I am not very sanguine

about that. At all events, the first flush of savage customs, &c., is

being, I trust, removed, so that for some other body of Christians, if

not the Church of England, the door may be laid open.

'Of course, the interest of the work is becoming more and more

absorbing; so that, much as there is indeed going on in your world to

distract and grieve one, it comes to me so weakened by time and distance

that I don't sympathise as I ought with those who are suffering so

dreadfully from the Indian Mutiny, or the commercial failure, or the

great excitement and agitation of the country. You can understand how

this can be, perhaps; for my actual present work leaves me small leisure

for reflecting, and for placing myself in the position of others at

a distance; and when I have a moment's time surely it is right that I

should be in heart at Feniton, with those dear ones, and especially my

dear dear father, of whom I have not heard for five months, so that I am

very anxious as to what account of him the "Southern Cross" may bring,

and try to prepare myself for news of increased illness, &c.

'You, I imagine, my dear Miss Neill, are not much changed to those who

see you day by day; but I should find you much weaker in body than when

I saw you last, and yet it did not seem then as if you had much strength

to lose: I don't hear of any sudden changes, or any forms of illness;

the gradual exhausting process is going on, but accompanied, I fear,

with even greater active pain than of old; your sufferings are indeed

very severe and very protracted, a great lesson to us all. Yet you have

much, even speaking only of worldly comfort, which makes your position a

much happier one than that of the poor suffering souls whom I see here.

Their house is one round room, a log burning in the centre, no chimney,

the room full of smoke, common receptacle of men, women, boys, girls,

pigs, and fowls. In the corner a dying woman or child. No water in the

island that is fresh, a few holes in the coral where water accumulates,

more or less brackish; no cleanliness, no quiet, no cool fresh air, hot

smoky atmosphere, no proper food, a dry bit of yam, and no knowledge of

a life to come: such is the picture of the invalided or dying South Sea

Islander. All dying children under years of discretion I baptize, and

all the infants brought to the chapel by parents who themselves are

seeking baptism; but I have not baptized any adults yet, they must

be examined and taught for some time, for the Samoan and Rarotongan

teachers sent by the Independent missionaries are very imperfectly

instructed and quite incapable of conveying definite teaching to them.

'I don't see, humanly speaking, how this island is to be kept from

becoming purely Roman Catholic. They have a large staff of men, and are

backed up by the presence of a complete government establishment in

New Caledonia, only two or three days distant, while what have we? Four

months a year of the time, partially otherwise occupied by Melanesian

schools, of one missionary, and while here these four months, I have my

lads from many islands to teach, so that I can't lay myself out to learn

this one language, &c. I am writing this on September 16. "Southern

Cross" not yet come, and my lads very anxious; I confess I should like

to see it, not only (as you will believe) because all my stores are

gone. I have not a morsel of biscuit or grain of sugar left, and am

reduced to native fare, which does not suit my English constitution for

very long. Yams and taro, and a fowl now and then, will be my food until

the ship comes. Hitherto I have had coffee and biscuits in addition.

'My very kind love to Mrs. S ----, and many thanks for the letters,

which I much enjoy.

'Your very affectionate old pupil,

'J. C. P.'

The whole of September passed without the arrival of the 'Southern

Cross.' The fact was that after Mr. Patteson had been left at Lifu,

the vessel when entering Port-au-France, New Caledonia, had come upon

a coral reef, and the damage done to her sheathing was so serious that

though she returned to Auckland from that trip, she could not sail again

without fresh coppering; and as copper had to be brought from Sydney

for the purpose, there was considerable delay before she could set

forth again, so that it was not till the last day of September that she

gladdened Patteson's eyes, and brought the long-desired tidings from

home.

This voyage was necessarily short, as there were appointments to be kept

by the Bishop in New Zealand in November, and all that could be aimed at

was the touching at the more familiar islands for fresh instalments

of scholars. The grand comet of 1858 was one feature of this

expedition--which resulted in bringing home forty-seven Melanesians,

so that with the crew, there were sixty-three souls on board during the

homeward voyage!

'As you may suppose, the little "Southern Cross" is cram full, but the

Bishop's excellent arrangements in the construction of the vessel for

securing ventilation, preserve us from harm by God's blessing. Every day

a thorough cleaning and sweeping goes on, and frequent washing, and as

all beds turn up like the flap of a table, and some thirty lads sleep

on the floor on mats and blankets, by 7 A.M. all traces of the night

arrangements have vanished. The cabin looks and feels airy; meals go on

regularly; the boys living chiefly on yams, puddings, and cocoa-nuts,

and plenty of excellent biscuit. We laid in so many cocoa-nuts that they

have daily one apiece, a great treat to them. A vessel of this size,

unless arranged with special reference to such objects, could not

carry safely so large a party, but we have nothing on board to create,

conceal, or accumulate dirt; no hold, no storeroom, no place where

a mixed mess of spilt flour, and sugar, and treacle, and old rotten

potatoes, and cocoa-nut parings and bits of candle, can all be washed

together into a dark foul hold; hence the whole ship, fore and aft, is

sweet and clean. Stores are kept in zinc lockers puttied down, and in

cedar boxes lined with zinc. We of course distribute them ourselves; a

hired steward would be fatal, because you can't get a servant to see the

importance of care in such details.'

Mr. Patteson always, in the most careful manner, paid respect both to

the chief's person and his dicta. He declined more than once to give

directions which he said ought to issue from the chief, although on one

of these occasions he was asked by the chief himself. He foresaw clearly

the evils that might follow if the people's respect for recognised

authority were weakened, instead of being, as it might be, turned to

useful account. And so he always accorded to John Cho, and to other

persons of rank when they were with us in the Mission school, just such

respect as they were accustomed to receive at the hands of their own

people. For instance, he would always use to a moderate extent the

chief's language in addressing John Cho or any other of the Loyalty

chiefs; and it being a rule of theirs that no one in the presence of the

chiefs should ever presume to sit down higher than the chiefs, he would

always make a point of attending to it as regarded himself; and once or

twice when, on shore in the islands, the chief had chosen to squat down

on the ground among the people, he would jocularly leave the seat that

had been provided for him, and place himself by the chief's side on the

ground. All this was keenly appreciated as significant, but alas! the

Loyalty Islanders were not long to remain under his charge.

The ensuing letter was written to Sir John Taylor Coleridge, after

learning the tidings of his retirement from the Bench in the packet of

intelligence brought by the vessel:--

'November 10, 1858: Lat. 31° 29' S.; Long. 171° 12' E.

'My dear Uncle John,--I see by the papers that you have actually

resigned, and keep your connection with the judges only as a Privy

Councillor. I am of course on my own account heartily glad that you will

be near my dear father for so many months of the year, and you are

very little likely to miss your old occupation much, with your study at

Heath's Court, so I shall often think of you in summer sitting out on

the lawn, by John's Pinus excelsis, and in winter in your armchair by

the fire, and no doubt you will often find your way over to Feniton.

And then you have a glorious church!.... Oh! I do long for a venerable

building and for the sound of ancient chants and psalms. At times,

the Sunday is specially a day on which my mind will go back to the old

country, but never with any wish to return. I have never experienced

that desire, and think nothing but absolute inability to help on a

Melanesian or a Maori will ever make a change in that respect. I feel

as certain as I can be of anything that I should not be half as happy

in England as I am in New Zealand, or in Lifu, in the Banks or Solomon

Islands, &c. I like the life and the people, everything about it and

them....

'Coppering the schooner caused delay, so that he (the Bishop) could give

but two months instead of three to the Island voyage, for he starts on

November 25 for a three months' Confirmation tour (1,000 miles) among

the New Zealanders, which will bring him to Wellington by March 1, for

the commencement of the first synod. Consequently we have only

revisited some of our seventy and odd islands, but we have no less than

forty-seven Melanesians from twelve islands on board, of whom three are

young married women, while two are babies.

'This makes our whole number on board sixty, viz., four Pitcairners,

forty-seven Melanesians, ourselves + crew = sixty-three, a number too

great for so small a vessel, but for the excellent plan adopted by the

Bishop in the internal arrangement of the vessel when she was built, and

the scrupulous attention to cleanliness in every place fore and aft. As

it is, we are not only healthy but comfortable, able to have all meals

regularly, school, prayers, just as if we had but twenty on board.

Nevertheless, I think, if you could drop suddenly on our lower deck at

9 P.M. and visit unbeknown to us the two cabins, you would be rather

surprised at the number of the sleepers--twelve in our after-cabin, and

forty-five in the larger one, which occupies two-thirds of the vessel.

'Of course we make no invasion upon the quarters forward of the four men

before the mast--common seamen, and take good care that master and mate

shall have proper accommodation.

'One gets so used to this sort of thing that I sleep just as well as I

used to do in my own room at home, and by 6.30 or 7 A.M. all vestiges

of anything connected with sleeping arrangements have vanished, and the

cabins look like what they are,--large and roomy. We have, you know, no

separate cabins filled with bunks, &c., abominations specially contrived

to conceal dirt and prevent ventilation. Light calico curtains answer

all purposes of dividing off a cabin into compartments, but we agree to

live together, and no one has found it unpleasant as yet. We turn a

part of our cabin into a gunaikhon at night for the three women and two

babies by means of a canvas screen. Bishop looks after them, washes the

babies, tends the women when sick, &c., while I, by virtue of being a

bachelor, shirk all the trouble. One of these women is now coming for

the second time to the college; her name is Carry. Margaret Cho is on

her second visit, and Hrarore is the young bride of Kapua, now coming

for his third time, and baptized last year.

'We wish to make both husbands and wives capable of imparting better

notions to their people.

'We have, I think, a very nice set on board....

'I think everything points to Vanua Lava, the principal island of the

Banks group, becoming our centre of operations, i.e., that it would be

the place where winter school would be carried on with natives from many

islands, from Solomon Islands group to the north-west, and Santa Cruz

group to north, New Hebrides to south and Loyalty Islands south-west,

and also the depot among the islands, a splendid harbour, safe both from

trade and hurricane winds, plenty of water, abundantly supplied

with provisions, being indeed like a hot-house, with its hot springs

constantly sending up clouds of vapour on the high hills, a population

wholly uninjured by intercourse with traders and whalers, it being

certain that our vessel was the first at all events that has ever been

seen by the eyes of any member of this generation on the islands; I

could prove this to you easily if I had time.

'They are most simple, gentle and docile, unwarlike, not cannibals, I

verily believe as good a specimen of the natural fallen man as can

be met with, wholly naked, yet with no sense of shame in consequence;

timid, yet soon learning to confide in one; intelligent, and gleaming

with plenty of spirit and fun. As the island, though 440 miles north

of the Loyalty Isles, is not to leeward of them, it would only take us

about eight days more to run down, and a week more to return to it from

New Zealand, than would be the case if we had our winter school on one

of the Loyalty Islands. So I hope now we may get a missionary for Lifu,

and so I may be free to spend all my time, when not in New Zealand,

at Vanua Lava. Temperature in winter something under 80° in the shade,

being in lat. 13° 45' 5". The only thing against Vanua Lava is the fact

that elephantiasis abounds among the natives, and they say that the

mortality is very considerable there, so it might not be desirable to

bring many lads to it from other islands; but the neighbouring islands

of Mota and Valua, and Uvaparapara are in sight and are certainly

healthy, and our buildings are not so substantial as to cause much

difficulty in shifting our quarters if necessary. The language is very

hard, but when it is one's business to learn a thing, it is done after a

while as a matter of course.

'We have quite made up our mind that New Zealand itself is the right

place for the head-quarters of the Mission. True, the voyage is long,

and lads can only be kept there five or six months of the year, but the

advantages of a tolerably settled state of society are so great, and

the opportunities of showing the Melanesians the working of an English

system are so many, that I think now with the Bishop that New Zealand

should be the place for the summer school in preference to any other. I

did not think so at one time, and was inclined to advocate the plan of

never bringing the lads out of the tropics, but I think now that there

are so many good reasons for bringing the lads to New Zealand that we

must hope to keep them by good food and clothing safe from colds and

coughs. Norfolk Island would have been in some ways a very good place,

but there is no hope now of our being settled there....

'I can hardly have quite the same control over lads brought to an island

itself wholly uncivilised as I can have over them in New Zealand, but as

a rule, Melanesians are very tractable. Certainly I would sooner have

my present school to manage, forty-five of all ages from nine to perhaps

twenty-seven or eight, from twelve or thirteen islands, speaking at

least eight languages, than half the number of English boys, up to all

sorts of mischief....

'Thank you, dear uncle, for the Xavier; a little portable book is very

nice for taking on board ship, and I dare say I may read some of his

letters in sight of many a heathen island....

'Good-bye, my dear Uncle.

'Your affectionate and grateful nephew,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

'Savages are all Fridays, if you know how to treat them' is a saying of

Patteson's in one of his letters, and a true one. In truth, there was no

word that he so entirely repudiated as this of savage, and the courtesy

and untutored dignity of many of his native friends fully justified his

view, since it was sure to be called forth by his own conduct towards

them.

The chiefs, having a great idea of their own importance, and being used

to be treated like something sacred, and never opposed, were the most

difficult people to deal with, and in the present voyage there was a

time of great anxiety respecting a young chief named Aroana, from the

great isle of Malanta. He fell into an agony of nervous excitement lest

he should never see his island again, an attack of temporary insanity

came on, and he was so strong that Mr. Patteson could not hold him down

without the help of the Bishop and another, and it was necessary to tie

him down, as he attempted to injure himself. He soon recovered, and the

cooler latitudes had a beneficial effect on him, but there was reason

to fear that in Malanta the restraint might be regarded as an outrage on

the person of a chief.

The voyage safely ended on the night of the 16th of November. Here is

part of a letter to Mr. Edward Coleridge, written immediately after

reading the letters that had been waiting in Auckland:--

'My father writes:--"My tutor says that there must be a Melanesian

Bishop soon, and that you will be the man," a sentence which amused me

not a little.

'The plan is that the Bishop should gradually take more and more

time for the islands, as he transfers to the General Synod all deeds,

documents, everything for which he was corporation sole, and as he

passes over to various other Bishops portions of New Zealand. Finally,

retaining only the north part of the northern island, to take the

Melanesian Bishopric.

'I urged this plan upon him very strongly one day, when somewhere about

lat. 12° S. (I fancy) he pressed me to talk freely about the matter. I

said: "One condition only I think should be present to your mind, viz.,

that you must not give up the native population in New Zealand," and to

this he assented.

'If, dear tutor, you really were not in joke, just try to find some

good man who would come and place himself under the Bishop's direction

unreservedly, and in fact be to him much what I am + the ability and

earnestness, &c. Seriously, I am not at all fitted to do anything but

work under a good man. Of course, should I survive the Bishop, and no

other man come out, why it is better that the ensign should assume the

command than to give up the struggle altogether. But this of course is

pure speculation. The Bishop is hearty, and, I pray God, may be Bishop

of Melanesia for twenty years to come, and by that time there will be

many more competent men than I ever shall be to succeed him, to say

nothing of possible casualties, climate, &c.

'Good-bye, my dear Uncle; kind love to all.

'Your loving nephew and pupil,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

The three women and the two babies were disposed of in separate houses,

but their husbands, with thirty-nine other Melanesians, four Norfolk

Islanders, two printers, Mr. Dudley and Mr. Patteson, made up the

dinner-party every day in the hall of St. John's College. 'Not a

little happy I feel at the head of my board, with two rows of merry,

happy-looking Melanesians on either side of me!'

The coughs, colds, and feverish attacks of these scholars were the only

drawback; the slightest chill made them droop; and it was a subject of

joy to have any day the full number in hall, instead of one or two lying

ill in their tutor's own bed-chamber.

On the 29th of December came the exceeding joy of the arrival of the

Judge and Mrs. Martin, almost straight from Feniton, ready to talk

untiringly of everyone there. On the New Year's day of 1859 there was a

joyful thanksgiving service at Taurarua for their safe return, at which

all the best Church people near were present, and when John Cho made his

first Communion.

On the 20th these much-loved friends came to make a long stay at the

College, and the recollections they preserved of that time have thus

been recorded by Lady Martin. It will be remembered that she had parted

from him during the year of waiting and irregular employment:

'We were away from New Zealand nearly three years. We had heard at

Feniton dear Coley's first happy letters telling of his voyages to the

islands in 1856-7, letters all aglow with enthusiasm about these places

and people. One phrase I well remember, his kindly regret expressed for

those whose lot is not cast among the Melanesian islands. On our

return we went to live for some months at St. John's College, where Mr.

Patteson was then settled with a large party of scholars.

'We soon found that a great change had passed over our dear friend. His

whole mind was absorbed in his work. He was always ready, indeed, to

listen to anything there was to tell about his dear father; but about

our foreign travels, his favourite pictures, the scenes of which we had

heard so much from him, he would listen for a few minutes, but was sure

in a little while to have worked round to Melanesia in general, or to

his boys in particular, or to some discussion with my husband on the

structure of their many languages and dialects. It was then that

Bishop Abraham said that when the two came to their ninth meaning of a

particle, he used to go to sleep.

'There were a very fine intelligent set of young men from the Loyalty

Islands, some sleepy, lazy ones from Mai, some fierce, wild-looking lads

from the Solomon Islands who had long slits in their ears and bone horns

stuck in their frizzly hair. Mr. Patteson could communicate with all

more or less easily, and his readily delicate hearing enabled him to

distinguish accurately sounds which others could not catch--wonderful

mp and piv and mbw which he was trying to get hold of for practical

purposes.

'He was in comfortable quarters, in one long low room, with a sunny

aspect. It looked fit for a student, with books all about, and pictures,

and photos of loved friends and places on the walls, but he had no mind

to enjoy it alone. There was sure to be some sick lad there, wrapped up

in his best rugs, in the warmest nook by the fire. He had morning and

afternoon school daily in the large schoolroom, Mr. Dudley and Mr. Lask

assisting him. School-keeping, in its ordinary sense, was a drudgery

to him, and very distasteful. He had none of that bright lively way and

readiness in catechising which made some so successful in managing a

large class of pupils at once, but every person in the place loved

to come to the evening classes in his own room, where, in their own

language, he opened to them the Scriptures and spoke to them of the

things pertaining to the kingdom of God. It was in those private classes

that he exercised such wonderful influence; his musical voice, his holy

face, his gentle manner, all helping doubtless to impress and draw even

the dullest. Long after this he told me once how after these evening

classes, one by one, some young fellow or small boy would come back with

a gentle tap at the door, "I want to talk to you," and then and there

the heart would be laid open, and counsel asked of the beloved teacher.

'It was very pleasant to see him among his boys. They all used to go off

for a walk on Saturday with him, sometimes to town, and he as full of

fun with them as if they had been a party of Eton boys. He had none of

the conventional talk, so fatal to all true influence, about degraded

heathen. They were brethren, ignorant indeed, but capable of acquiring

the highest wisdom. It was a joke among some of us, that when asked the

meaning of a Nengone term of endearment he answered naively, "Oh, it

means old fellow." He brought his fresh, happy, kindly feelings towards

English lads and young men into constant play among Melanesians, and so

they loved and trusted him.'

I think that exclusiveness of interest which Lady Martin describes, and

which his own family felt, and which is apt to grow upon missionaries,

as indeed on every one who is very earnestly engaged in any work,

diminished as he became more familiar with his work, and had a mind more

at liberty for thought.

Mr. Dudley thus describes the same period:--'It was during the summers

of 1857-8 and 1858-9 that the Loyalty Islanders mustered in such numbers

at St. John's College, as it was supposed that they, at least Lifu would

be left in the hands of the Church of England. Mr. Patteson worked very

hard these years at translations, and there was an immense enthusiasm

about printing, the Lifuites and Nengonese striving each to get the most

in their own language.

'Never shall I forget the evening service during those years held in

the College chapel, consisting of one or two prayers in Bauro, Gera,

and other languages, and the rest in Nengonese, occasionally changing

to Lifu, when Mr. Patteson used to expound the passage of Scripture

that had been translated in school during the day. Usually the Loyalty

Islanders would take notes of the sermon while it went on, but now and

then it was simply impossible, for although his knowledge of Nengonese

at that time, as compared with what it was afterwards, was very limited,

and his vocabulary a small one from which to choose his expressions, he

would sometimes speak with such intense earnestness and show himself

so thoroughly en rapport with the most intelligent of his hearers, that

they were compelled to drop their papers and pencils, and simply to to

listen. I remember one evening in particular. For some little time past

the conduct of the men, especially the married men, had not been at all

satisfactory. The married couples had the upper house, and John Cho,

Simeona, and Kapua had obtained a draught-board, and had regularly given

themselves up to draught-playing, night and day, neglecting all the

household duties they were expected to perform, to the great annoyance

of their wives, who had to carry the water, and do their husbands' work

in other ways as well their own. This became soon known to Mr. Patteson,

and without saying anything directly to the men, he took one evening as

his subject in chapel those words of our Lord, "If thy hand or thy foot

offend thee," &c., and spoke as you know he did sometimes speak, and

evidently was entirely carried out of himself, using the Nengonese with

a freedom which showed him to be thinking in it as he went on, and

with a face only to be described as "the face of an angel." We all

sat spellbound. John Cho, Simeona, and the other walked quietly away,

without saying a word, and in a day or two afterwards I learnt from John

that he had lain awake that night thinking over the matter, that fear

had come upon him, lest he might be tempted again, and jumping up

instantly, he had taken the draught-board from the place where he had

left it and had cast it into the embers of their fire.

'Many and many a time was I the recipient of his thoughts, walking

with him up and down the lawn in front of the cottage buildings of an

evening, when he would try to talk himself clear. You may imagine what

a willing listener I was, whatever he chose to talk upon, and he often

spoke very freely to me, I being for a long time his only resident white

companion. It was not long before I felt I knew his father well, and

reverenced him deeply. He never was tired of talking of his home, and

of former days at Eton and Oxford, and then while travelling on the

Continent. Often and often during those early voyages have I stood or

sat by his side on the deck of the "Southern Cross," as in the evening,

after prayers, he stood there for hours, dressed in his clerical attire,

all but the grey tweed cap, one hand holding the shrouds, and looking

out to windward like a man who sees afar off all the scenes he was

describing.'

Thinking over those times since, one understands better far than one did

at the time the reality of the sacrifice he had made in devoting himself

for life to a work so far away from those he loved best on earth.

The Bishop of Wellington, for to that see Archdeacon Abraham had been

consecrated while in England, arrived early in March, and made a short

stay at the College, during which he confirmed eleven and baptized one

of Patteson's flock. Mrs. Abraham and her little boy remained at the

College, while her husband went on to prepare for her at Wellington,

and thus there was much to make the summer a very pleasant one, only

chequered by frequent anxieties about the health of the pupils, as

repeated experiments made it apparent that the climate of St. John's was

too cold for them. Another anxiety was respecting Lifu for the

London Missionary Society, had, after all, undertaken to supply two

missionaries from England, and it was a most doubtful and delicate

question whether the wishes of the natives or the established principle

of noninterference with pre-occupied ground, ought to have most weight.

The Primate was so occupied by New Zealand affairs that he wrote to

Mr. Patteson to decide it himself and he could but wait to be guided by

circumstances on the spot.

To Mr. Edward Coleridge he writes on the 18th of March:--

'I have many and delightful talks with Mr. Martin on our languages. We

see already how strong an infusion of Polynesian elements exists in

the Melanesian islands. With the language of four groups we are fairly

acquainted now, besides some of the distinguishing dialects, which

differ very much from one another; nevertheless, I think that by-and-by

we shall connect them all if we live; but as some dialects may have

dropped out altogether, we may want a few links in the chain to

demonstrate the connection fully to people at a distance. It is a great

refreshment to me to work out these matters, and the Judge kindly looked

up the best books that exist in all the Polynesian languages, so that we

can found our induction upon a comparison of all the dialects now from

the Solomon Islands to the Marquesas, with the exception of the Santa

Cruz archipelago. We have been there two or three times, but the people

are so very numerous and noisy, that we never have had a chance as yet

of getting into a quiet talk (by signs, &c.) with any of the people.

'Still, as we know some Polynesian inhabitants of a neighbouring isle

who have large sea canoes, and go to Santa Cruz, we may soon get one of

them to go with us, and so have an interpreter, get a lad or two, and

learn the language.

'We are sadly in want of men; yet we cannot write to ask persons to

come out for this work who may be indisposed, when they arrive in

New Zealand, to carry out the particular system on which the Bishop

proceeds. Any man who would come out and consent to spend a summer at

the Melanesian school in New Zealand in order to learn his work, and

would give up any preconceived notions of his own about the way to

conduct missionary work that might militate against the Bishop's

plan--such a man would be, of course, the very person we want; but we

must try to make people understand that half-educated men will not do

for this work. Men sent out as clergymen to the mission-field who would

not have been thought fit to receive Holy Orders at home, are not at all

the men we want. It is not at all probable that such men would really

understand the natives, love them, and live with them; but they would be

great dons, keeping the natives at a distance, assuming that they could

have little in common, &c.--ideas wholly destructive of success in

missionary, or in any work. That pride of race which prompts a white man

to regard coloured people as inferior to himself, is strongly ingrained

in most men's minds, and must be wholly eradicated before they will ever

win the hearts, and thus the souls of the heathen.

'What a preachment, as usual, about Melanesia!...

'Your loving old Pupil and Nephew,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

Next follows a retrospective letter:--

'April 1, 1859: St. John's College.

'My dearest Father,--Thirty-two years old to-day! Well, it is a solemn

thing to think that one has so many days and months and years to account

for. Looking back, I see how fearfully I wasted opportunities which

I enjoyed, of which, I fancy, I should now avail myself gladly; but I

don't know that I fancy what is true, for my work now, though there

is plenty of it, is desultory, and I dare say hard application,

continuously kept up, would be as irksome to me as ever.

'It seems very strange to me that I never found any pleasure in

classical studies formerly. Now, the study of the languages for its own

sake even is so attractive to rue that I should enjoy working out the

exact and delicate powers of Greek particles, &c.; but I never cared for

it till it was too late, and the whole thing was drudgery to me. I

had no appreciation, again, of Historians, or historians; only thought

Thucydides difficult and Herodotus prosy(!!), and Tacitus dull, and Livy

apparently easy and really very hard. So, again, with the poets; and

most of all I found no interest (fancy!) in Plato and Aristotle. They

were presented to me as merely school books; not as the great effort of

the cultivated heathen mind to solve the riddle of man's being; and

I, in those days, never thought of comparing the heathen and Christian

ethics, and the great writers had no charm for me.

'Then my French. If I had really taken any pains with old Tarver in old

days--and it was your special wish that I should do so--how useful it

would be to me now; whereas, though I get on after a sort, I don't speak

at all as I ought to do, and might have learnt to do. It is sad to look

back upon all the neglected opportunities; and it is not only that I

have not got nearly (so to speak) a quantity of useful materials for

one's work in the present time, but that I find it very hard to shake

off desultory habits. I suppose all persons have to make reflections of

this kind, more or less sad; but, somehow, I feel it very keenly now:

for certainly I did waste time sadly; and it so happens that I have

just had "Tom Brown's Schooldays" lent me, and that I spent some time in

reading it on this particular day, and, of course, my Eton life rose up

before me. What a useful book that is! A real gain for a young person to

have such a book. That is very much the kind of thing that would really

help a boy--manly, true, and plain.

'I hear from Sydney by last mail that the Bishop is really desirous to

revive the long dormant Board of Missions. He means to propose to send

a priest and a deacon to every island ready for them, and to provide for

them--if they are forthcoming, and funds. Of this latter I have not much

doubt....

'April 24--I have to get ready for three English full services

to-morrow, besides Melanesian ditto.--So goodbye, my dearest Father,

'Your loving and dutiful Son,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

Sir John Patteson might well say, in a letter of this summer, to Bishop

Selwyn:--

'As to my dear boy Coley, I am more and more thankful every day that I

agreed to his wishes; and in whatever situation he may be placed, feel

confident that his heart will be in his work, and that he will do God

service. He will be contented to work under any one who may be appointed

Bishop of Melanesia (or any other title), or to be the Bishop himself.

If I judge truly, he has no ambitious views, and only desires that he

may be made as useful as his powers enable him to be, whether in a high

or subordinate situation.'

Nothing could be more true than this. There was a general sense of the

probability that Mr. Patteson must be the first Missionary Bishop; but

he continued to work on at the immediate business, always keeping the

schemes and designs which necessarily rose in his mind ready to be

subjected to the control of whomsoever might be set over him. The cold

had set in severely enough to make it needful to carry off his 'party of

coughing, shivering Melanesians' before Easter, and the 'Southern Cross'

sailed on the 18th. Patteson took with him a good store of coffee,

sugar, and biscuits, being uncertain whether he should or should not

again remain at Lifu.

In the outward voyage he only landed his pupils there, and then went

on to the Banks Islands, where Sarawia was returned at Vanua Lava, and

after Mr. Patteson had spent a pleasant day among the natives, Mota was

visited next after.

'May 24.--On Monday, at 3 P.M., we sailed from Port Patteson across

to Mota. Here I landed among 750 people and the boat returned to the

vessel. She was to keep up to windward during the night and call for me

the next morning. I walked with my large following, from the teach, up

a short steep path, to the village, near to which, indeed only 200 yards

off, is another considerable village. The soil is excellent; the houses

good--built round the open space which answers to the green in

our villages, and mighty banyan trees spreading their lofty and

wide-branching arms above and around them. The side walls of these

houses are not more than two feet high, made only of bamboos lashed by

cocoa-nut fibre, or wattled together, and the long sloping roofs nearly

touch ground but within they are tolerably clean and quite dry. The moon

was in the first quarter, and the scene was striking as I sat out in

the open space with some 200 people crowding round me--men, women and

children; fires in front where yams were roasting; the dark brown forms

glancing to and fro in the flickering light; the moon's rays quivering

down through the vast trees, and the native hollow drum beating at

intervals to summon the people to the monthly feast on the morrow. I

slept comfortably on a mat in a cottage with many other persons in

it. Much talk I had with a large concourse outside, and again in this

cottage, on Christianity; and all were quiet when I knelt down as usual

and said my evening prayers. Up at 5.30 A.M., and walked up a part of

the Sugar Loaf peak, from which the island derives its English name, and

found a small clear stream, flowing, through a rocky bed, back to the

village, where were some 300 people assembled; sat some time with them,

then went to the beach, where the boat soon came for me.

'After this there was a good deal of bad weather; but all the lads were

restored to their islands, including Aroana, the young Malanta chief,

who had begun by a fit of frenzy, but had since behaved well; and who

left his English friends with a promise to do all in his power to tame

his people and cure them of cannibalism.'

Then came some foul winds and hot exhausting weather.

'I have done little more than read Stanley's "Sinai and Palestine," and

Helps's "Spanish America," two excellent books and most delightful

to me. The characters in the Spanish conquest of Mexico and America

generally; the whole question of the treatment of natives; and that

nobleman, Las Casas--are more intelligible to me than to most persons

probably. The circumstances of my present life enable me to realise it

to a greater extent.

'Then I have been dipping into a little ethnology; yesterday a little

Plato; but it is almost too hot for anything that requires a working

head-piece. You know I take holiday time this voyage when we are in open

water and no land near, and it is great relaxation to me.'

A pretty severe gale of wind followed, a sharp test of Patteson's

seamanship.

'Then came one day of calm, when we all got our clothes dry, and the

deck and rigging looked like an old clothes' shop. Then we got a fairish

breeze; but we can get nothing in moderation. Very soon it blew up

into a strong breeze, and here we are lying to with a very heavy sea.

Landsmen would call it mountainous, I suppose. I am tired, for I have

had an anxious time; and we have had but one quiet night for an age, and

then I slept from 9.30 P.M. to 7.30 A.M. continuously. 'It may be that

this is very good training for me. Indeed it must give me more coolness

and confidence. I felt pleased as well as thankful when we made the

exact point of Nengone that I had calculated upon, and at the exact

time.'

On the 20th of June, Auckland harbour was safely attained; but the

coming back without scholars did not make much of holiday time for their

master, who was ready to give help to other clergymen whenever it might

be needed, though, in fact, this desultory occupation always tried him

most.

On the 25th of July he says:--

'I have had a sixty miles' walk since I wrote last; some part of it over

wild country. I lost my way once or twice and got into some swamps, but

I had my little pocket-compass.

'My first day was eighteen miles in pouring rain; no road, in your sense

of the word; but a good warm room and tea at the end. Next day on the

move all day, by land and water, seeing settlers scattered about. Third

day, Sunday, services at two different places. Fourth day, walk of

some twenty-seven miles through unknown regions baptizing children

at different places; and reaching, after divers adventures, a very

hospitable resting-place at 8 p.m. in the dark. Next day an easy walk

into Auckland and Taurarua. Yesterday, Sunday, very wet day. Man-of-war

gig came down for me at 9.15 A.M., took the service on board; 11 A.M.

St. Paul's service; afternoon, hospital, a mile or so off; 6 P.M., St.

Paul's evening service; 8.30, arrived at Taurarua dripping.'

The same letter replies to one from home:--

'I thank you, my dear father, for writing so fully about yourself, and

especially, for seeing and stating so plainly your full conviction that

I ought not to think of returning to England. It would, as you say,

humanly speaking, interfere most seriously with the prospects of the

Mission. Some dear friends write to me differently, but they don't quite

understand, as you have taken pains to do, what our position is out

here; and they don't see that my absence would involve great probable

injury to the whole work.

'It is curious how few there are who know anything of New Zealand and

Melanesia!

'Of course it is useless to speculate on the future, but I see nothing

at all to make it likely that I shall ever revisit England. I can't

very well conceive any such state of things as would make it a duty to

gratify my constant inclination. And, my dear father, I don't scruple to

say (for you will understand me) that I am happier here than I should be

in England, where, even though I were absent only a few months, I should

bear about with me the constant weight of knowing that Melanesia was not

provided for. And, strange as it may seem, this has quite ceased to be a

trial to me. The effort of subduing the longing desire to see you is

no longer a great one: I feel that I am cheerful and bright, and

light-hearted, and that I have really everything to make a man thankful

and contented.

'And if you could see the thankful look of the Bishop, when he is again

assured that there is no item of regret or desire to call me home on

your part, you would feel, I know, that colonial work does require,

especially, an unconditional unreserved surrender of a man to whatever

he may find to do.'

But while admiring the noble spirit in which the son held fast his post,

and the father forebore to unsettle him there, let not their example

he used in the unkind and ignorant popular cry against the occasional

return of colonial Bishops. For, be it remembered, that dire necessity

was not drawing Coleridge Patteson to demand pecuniary assistance round

all the platforms of English towns. The Eton, and the Australian and New

Zealand Associations, supplemented by the Society for the Propagation of

the Gospel and his own family, relieved him from the need of having to

maintain his Mission by such means. All these letters are occupied with

the arrangements for raising means for removing the Melanesian College

to a less bleak situation, and it is impossible to read them without

feeling what a difference it made to have a father who did not view

giving to God's work as robbing his family.

On the 13th of August, Patteson was on board, preparing for the voyage;

very cold, and eager for the tropics. The parting voice in his farewell

letter is: 'I think I see more fully that work, by the power of God's

Spirit, is the condition of us all in this world; tiny and insignificant

as the greatest work of the greatest men is, in itself, yet the one

talent is to be used.'

It was meant to be a farewell letter, but another followed in the

leisure, while waiting for the Bishop to embark, with some strong (not

to say fiery) opinions on the stern side of duty:--

'I feel anxious to try to make some of the motives intelligible, upon

which we colonial folk act sometimes. First. I think that we get

a stronger sense of the necessity for dispensing with that kind of

courtesy and good nature which sometimes interferes with duty than

people do in England.

'So a man placed as I am (for example) really cannot oftentimes avoid

letting it be seen that work must come first; and, by degrees, one

sympathises less than one possibly should do with drones and idlers in

the hive, and feels it wrong to assent to a scheme which lets a real

work suffer for the sake of acquiescing in a conventional recognition of

comfort, claims of society, &c.

'Would the general of an army say to his officers, "Pray, gentlemen,

don't dirty your boots or fatigue your horses to succour the inhabitants

of a distant village"? Or a captain to his mates and middies: "Don't

turn out, don't go aloft. It is a thing hard, and you might get wet"?

'And the difference between us and people at home sometimes is, that we

don't see why a clergyman is not as much bound as an officer in the army

or navy to do what he is pledged of his own act to do; and that at home

the 'parsonage and pony-carriage' delusion practically makes men forget

this. I forget it as much as any man, and should very likely never have

seen the mistake but for my coming to New Zealand; and it is one of the

great blessings we enjoy.

'There is a mighty work to be done. God employs human agents, and the

Bible tells us what are the rules and conditions of their efficiency.

'"Oh! but, poor man, he has a sickly wife!" Yes, but, "it remaineth that

those who have wives be as they that have none."

'True, but the case of a large family? "Whosoever loveth child more than

me," &c.

'Second. The fact that we live almost without servants makes us more

independent, and also makes us acquainted with the secrets of each

other's housekeeping, &c. All that artificial intercourse which depends

a good deal upon a well-fitted servants' hall does not find place here.

More simple and more plain and homely in speech and act is our life in

the colonies--e.g., you meet me carrying six or seven loaves from town

to the college. "Oh, I knew that the Bishop had to meet some persons

there to-day, and I felt nearly sure there would be no breakfast then."

Of course an English person thinks, "Why didn't he send the bread?" To

which I answer, "Who was there to send?"

'I don't mean that I particularly like turning myself into a miller one

day and a butcher the next; but that doing it as a matter of course,

where there is no one else to do it, one does sometimes think it

unreasonable to say, as has been said to the Bishop:--"Two thousand

pounds a year you want for your Mission work!" "Yes," said the

Bishop, "and not too much for sailing over ten thousand miles, and for

educating, clothing, and feeding some forty young men!"

'I mean that conventional notions in England are preventing people from

really doing half what they might do for the good of the needy.

'I don't know how this might be said to be a theory tending to

revolutionise society; but I think I do know that there is a kind of

religious common sense which comes in to guide people in such matters.

Only, I do not think it right to admit that plea for not doing more in

the way of almsgiving which is founded upon the assumption that first

of all a certain position in society must be kept up, which involves

certain expenditure.

'A barrister is living comfortably on £800 a year, or a clergyman in

his living of £400. The professional income of the one increases, and a

fatter living is given to the other, or some money is left them. What

do they do? Instantly start a carriage, another servant, put the

jack-of-all-trades into a livery, turn the buttons into a flunkey, and

the village girl into a ladies' maid! Is this really right? They were

well enough before. Why not use the surplus for some better purpose?

'I imagine that we, the clergy, are chiefly to blame, for not only not

protesting against, but most contentedly acquiescing in such a state of

things. You ask now for something really demanding a sacrifice. "I can't

afford it." "What, not to rescue that village from starvation? not to

enable that good man to preach the Gospel to people only accessible by

means of such an outlay on his vessel, &c.? Give up your carriage,

your opera box; don't have so many grand balls, &c. "Oh no! it is all a

corban to the genius of society.

'Now, is this Scriptural or not, my dear father? I don't mean that any

individual is justified in dictating to his neighbour, still less in

condemning him. But are not these the general principles of religion and

morality in the Bible? There are duties to society: but a good man

will take serious counsel as to what they are, and how far they may be

militating against higher and holier claims.

'August 24.--Why I wrote all this, my dearest father, I hardly know,

only I feel sure that unless men at home can, by taking real pains to

think about it, realise the peculiar circumstances of colonial life,

they will never understand any one of us.

'I have written Fan a note in which I said something about my few

effects if I should die.

'One thing I should like to say to you, not as venturing to do more than

let you be in full possession of my own mind on the matter. Should I die

before you die, would it be wrong for me to say, "Make the Melanesian

Mission my heir"?

'It may be according to the view which generally obtains that the other

three should then divide my share. But now I would take what may seem

the hard view of which I have been writing, and say, "They have enough

to maintain them happily and comfortably." The Mission work without such

a bequest will be much endangered. I feel sure that they would wish

it to be so, for, of course, you know that this large sum of which you

write will be, if I survive you, regarded simply as a bequest to the

Mission in which I have a life interest, and the interest of which, in

the main, would be spent on the Mission.

'But I only say plainly, without any reserve, what I have thought about

it; not for one moment putting up my opinion against yours, of course,

in case you take a contrary view.

'We sail, I hope, to-morrow, but the Bishop is more busy than ever.

'Again, my dearest Father,

'Your loving and dutiful Son,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

The history of this voyage was, as usual, given in a long letter for the

Feniton fireside; but there was a parallel journal also, kept for the

Bishop of Wellington, which is more condensed, and, therefore, better

for quotation.

The manner in which the interest in, and connection with all English

friends and relations was kept up is difficult to convey, though it was

a very loveable part of the character. Little comments of condolence or

congratulation, and messages of loving remembrance to persons mentioned

by playful names, would only be troublesome to the reader; but it must

be taken for granted that every reply to a home packet was full of these

evidences that the black children on a thousand isles had by no means

driven the cousins and friends of youth from a heart that was enlarged

to have tenderness for all.

'Lat. 9° 29' S.; Long. 163° S.E. "Southern Cross:" October 9, 1859.

'My dear Bishop,--We are on our way from Uleawa to the Santa Cruz group,

having visited the Loyalty Islands, Southern New Hebrides, Banks Island

(2), and Solomon Islands.

'The Bishop so planned the voyage as to run down the wind quickly to

the Solomon Islands, and do the real work coming home; not, as usual,

beating up in the open water between the Santa Cruz archipelago, Banks

Islands and New Hebrides to the east, and New Caledonia to the west. We

are thus able to visit Vanua Lava on the way out and home also; and as

we meant to make the Banks Islands the great point this voyage, that

was, of course, great gain.

'We touched at Norfolk Island.... Going on to Nengone we found everybody

away at the distant yam grounds, and could not wait to see them.

'At Lifu, the first thing that shocked us was John's appearance: one of

those fatal glandular swellings has already produced a great change in

him. He looked sallow and weak, and I fear ut sit vitalis. He spoke to

me very calmly about his illness, which he thinks is unto death, and I

did not contradict him.

'We had much private talk together. He is a fine fellow and, I believe,

a sincere Christian man. Then came the applications to us not to desert

them, and letters enumerating all the villages of Lifu almost without

exception, and entreating us to suffer them to be connected with us, and

we had to answer that already two missionaries from the L. M. S. are

on their way from Sydney to Lifu, and that it would do harm to have two

rival systems on the island. They acquiesced but not heartily, and it

was a sad affair altogether, all parties unhappy and dissatisfied, and

yet unable to solve the difficulty. Then came a talk with Angadhohua,

John's half-brother, the real chief. The poor lad feels now what a

terrible thing it will be for him and his people if they should lose

John. Nothing can be nicer than his way of talking: "I know you don't

think me firm enough, and that I am easily led by others. What am I to

do if John dies? We all respect him. He has been taught so much, and

people all listen to him." I gave him the best advice that I could

and longed to be able to do something for him and his people. It was,

however, a comfort to leave with them St. Mark, Scripture books, &c.

'We called at Tanna, to see poor Mr. Paton, who lost his wife last

April. He is living on there quite alone, and has already lived down the

first angry opposition of some of the people, and the unkind treatment

that he received from men and women alike who mocked him because of his

wife's death, &c. He has had much fever and looked very ill, but his

heart was in his work; and the Bishop said he seemed to be one of the

weak things which God hath chosen. I know he made me feel pretty well

ashamed of myself.

'Next day we spent a few hours with Mr. and Mrs. Gordon at Erromango. He

has a small house on the high table-land overlooking Dillon's Bay, and

certainly is exposed to winds which may, for aught I know, rival those

of Wellington notoriety. The situation is, however, far preferable in

the summer to that on the beach, which is seldom free from malaria and

ague.

'Then we sailed to the great bay of Pango, landed at Fate a fellow

who had come to the Bishop in New Zealand for a passage, and in the

afternoon sailed away through "the Pool" (the landlocked space between

Mallicolo and Espiritu Santo to the west; Aspee, Ambrym, Whitsuntide,

Aurora to the east), where for eighty miles the water is always smooth,

the wind always steady, the scenery always lovely, and where, on this

occasion, the volcano was bright.

'Being nearly becalmed to the south-east of Leper's Isle, the Bishop

gave me the choice of a visit to Whitsuntide or Leper's Island. I voted

for the latter, and delighted we were to renew an acquaintance made two

years ago, and not since kept up, with these specially nice people. We

were recognised at once, but we have a very small vocabulary.

'The sea was running heavily into the bay, but it is sand there and not

much rock on the beach, and we had a jolly swim ashore. Then we bought a

few yams, which the surf did not permit us to get to the boat, and had

a very pleasant visit; for, as we sat among them, words came into one's

head, or were caught from their mouth, and at the end of twenty minutes

we were getting on a little. The old chief took me by the hand and led

me aside to the spot where the ladies were assembled, and divining no

doubt that I was a bachelor, politely offered me his daughter, and his

protection, &c., if I would live among them.

'I missed seeing the Bishop knocked clean over by the breakers as he

was swimming off to the boat; I was still talking to the people, with my

back to the sea, and only saw him staggering to his feet again. Thinking

to myself that if he was knocked over, I had better look out, I awaited

a "smooth" and swam out comfortably.

'The next morning (Sunday) at ten, we dropped anchor in Port Patteson,

the harbour which you know the Bishop would call after my father. The

first person who came off to us was Sarawia, my old Lifu pupil, from

this island! Then came a good many men. I told them there would be no

going ashore and no trading till the next day. Palemana, your friend

Matawathki, &c., were at church, all dressed and well-behaved. What nice

orderly people they are, to be sure!

'The next day we bought lots of yams, and gave away seeds and

fruit-trees, or rather planted them; and looked for a place for a

station, and fixed at last on the rising-ground which forms the east

side of the harbour, and the Bishop, arming himself with an axe, led

a party to clear the bush, which was very thick. They made a fair path

through in one afternoon to the top, and a healthy place might be found

now with little trouble to return to at night from the schools, &c. in

the village below, and so shirk the malaria.

'But the next day, as I had anticipated, rather changed his intentions

as to the principal station being formed at Vanua Lava. We landed at

Sugar Loaf Island, and with something of pride I showed off to him the

beauties of the villages where I slept in May last--the dry soil,

the spring of water, the wondrous fertility, the large and remarkably

intelligent, well-looking population, the great banyan tree,

twenty-seven paces round--and at once he said, "This is such a place as

I have seen nowhere else for our purpose."

'The Bishop had seen this island before I was with him, during one of

the "Border Maid's" voyages, and knew the people, of course, but had not

happened to have walked in shore at all, and so the exceeding beauty and

fitness of the island for a Mission station had not become so apparent

to him. We know of no place where there seems to be such an unusual

combination of everything that can be desired, humanly speaking, for

such an institution. So that is settled (D.V.) that next winter I

should be here, if alive and well; and that the Banks Islands should be

regarded as the central point of the Mission.

'Such boys! Bright-eyed, merry fellows, many really handsome; of that

reddish yellow tinge of colour which betokens affinity with Polynesian

races, as their language also testifies. The majority of the people

were pleasing in their appearance and manner. Well, all this was very

hopeful, and we went off very happy, taking Eumau, the boy who first met

us at Port Patteson when we found it out, and old Wompas (who was with

me at Lifu), and another from Mota, to see the Northern Islands.

'I think our work is more likely now to revolve upon a fixed

centre--Sugar Loaf Island in the Banks group--that we shall make the

occupation of the group the first ohject, and do all with reference to

that as the necessary part of the work to be attended to first. In the

choice of scholars, e.g., we have considered whether we should not limit

our selection to such as might pass the next winter with me at Sugar

Loaf Island, and so that the vessel need not run down to leeward of it.

Solomon Islands are the extreme verge. In the East Island, where there

would be merely a question of nothing or something, we may take very

young men who would perhaps not be easy to keep out of harm at Sugar

Loaf, because there will be no difficulty about returning them to their

homes....

'November 11th.--We found in the Santa Cruz group that the news of

Captain Front's and his two men's death in Vanikoro, and (as we suppose)

the news of the "Cordelia" having been at that island to inquire into

the matter, had made the people anxious, uneasy, noisy, and rather

rude. That poor man went to make a station at Vanikoro in the usual way,

taking three poor New Caledonian women with him. The Vanikoro people

killed the three English and took away the women.

'We did not land at Sta. Cruz, but we had a more pleasant intercourse

than heretofore with thirty or forty canoes' crews.

'Timelin Island we ascertained to be identical with Nukapu, an old

familiar place whose latitude we had not ascertained correctly before.

The small reef (Polynesian) islands did not give us so good a reception

as last year, though there was no unfriendliness. The news about

Vanikoro had made them suspicious of visits from white men. But they

will be all right by next time....

'We saw a pleasant party at Bligh Island, brought away one young man

from that island, and two lads belonging to a neighbouring small island

called Eowa. The next day we watered on the north side of Vanua Lava,

and in the evening went across to Santa Maria. Here we landed on the

next day among two hundred or more people, shy and noisy. We bought a

few yams, and I detected some young fellows stealing from our little

heap I would not overlook this, but the noticing it made them more

suspicious that we meant to hurt them. As the Bishop and I, after some

twenty minutes, turned to rejoin the boat, the whole crowd bolted like

a shot right and left into the bush. Evidently they must have had some

trading crew tire a parting shot in mere wantonness at them from their

boat. I expected some arrows to be shot at us; but they did not shoot

any.

'The same evening (Saturday) we stood across the passage with a brisk

breeze, and took up our party, consisting of five and including Sarawia

and four others anciently noted as promising in appearance....

'We reached Mota (Sugar Loaf Island) in time to leave me for a night's

visit to the people. I had time before the boat called next day at noon

to see five or six of their villages. People quite accustomed to expect

me--all most friendly, apparently pleased to be told that I would stop

with them in the winter. Seven scholars joined us here....

'At Mai, I slept in the house of Petere and Laure. Things are promising.

It is quite ready for a missionary. We brought away Moto, Pepeu, and the

two young boys who were with me at Lifu, and very many wished to come.

'Thence we had a very long passage to Lifu. John Cho is, I am thankful

to say, very much better. The two men from the London Missionary Society

are on the island.... The Lifu people tell me that in the north of

the island many are accepting the teaching of the two French priests.

William Martin Tahia and Chakham, a principal chief and old scholar, are

with us.

'At Nengone, Wadrokala, George Simeona, and Harper Malo have come away

for good.... We number thirty-nine Melanesians.... This is a long letter

which will try your patience.

'Always, my dear Bishop,

'Affectionately yours,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

Another long letter was written during this voyage to Mr. Edward

Coleridge, a great portion of it on the expediency of the islands being

taken under British protection, also much respecting the Church of New

Zealand, which is scarcely relevant to the immediate subject, and only

at the end is there anything more personal:--

'The last accounts of my father were unusually good, but I well know

what news may be awaiting our return from a voyage whether long or

short, and I try to be ready for any news; yet I suppose that I cannot

at all realize what it would be. It makes some difference when the idea

of meeting again in this world has been relinquished for now four and a

half years, yet it is all very well to wait or think about it! I was not

so upset by dear Uncle James's death as I should no doubt have been had

I enjoyed the prospect of frequently seeing him. Somehow, when all ideas

of time and space are annihilated by death, one must think about such

separations in a religious way: for separations in any other sense to us

here, from people in England, have already taken place. I must except,

however, the loving wise letters, and the power of realising more

clearly perhaps the occupations of those still in the body--their

accustomed places and duties; though I suppose we can tell quite enough

about all this in the case of those who have died in the true faith of

Christ to know, at all events, that we are brought and united to them

whenever we think or do anything religiously. I often think that this

is well brought out in the "Heir of Redclyffe"--the loss of "the bright

outside," the life and energy and vigour, and all the companionable and

sociable qualities, contrasted with the power of thinking oneself into

the inner spiritual relations that exist between the worlds visible and

invisible.

'All this effort is much diminished in our case. There is no very great

present loss; at least, it is not so sensibly felt by a great deal as it

would be if we missed some one with whom we lived up to the time of his

death. It is much easier to think of them as they are than it could be

in the case of persons who remember so vividly what they so lately were;

and this is why, I suppose, the news of Uncle James's death seemed to

affect me so much less than I should have expected, and it may be

so again: certain it is that I loved him dearly, and that I miss his

letters very much indeed; but I think that the point I felt most about

him was the sad affliction to his family, and the great loss to my dear

father, who had of late seen more than ever of him.'

From the home letter I only quote from the reflections so regularly

inspired by the anniversary of the 28th of November.

After lamenting that it was difficult to realise those scenes in his

mother's illness which he and his brother only knew from narration,

Patteson adds:--

'The memory of those days would perhaps have been more precious to me

if I had witnessed more with my own eyes. And yet of course it really

mattered nothing at all, because the lesson of her life does not depend

on an acquaintance with a few days of it; and what I saw when I was

there I never have forgotten, and hope that I never may forget.

'And indeed I feel now with regard to you, my dear Father, that I have

not learned to know you better while I was with you than I do now. I

think that in some ways I enter more almost into your mind and thought,

or that I fancy I do so: just as the present possession of anything so

often prevents our really taking pains to learn all about it. We rest

content with the superficial knowledge of that which is most easily

perceived and recognised in it....

'I think I know from your letters, and from the fact of my absence from

you making me think more about you, as much about you as those present.

I very much enjoy a letter from Joan, which gives me a kind of tableau

vivant of you all. That helps me to realize the home life; so do the

photographs, they help in the same way. But your letters, and the fact

that I think so much about them, and about you, are my real helps.'

The voyage ended on the 7th of December. It was the last made under the

guidance of the Bishop of New Zealand, and, alas! the last return of the

first 'Southern Cross.'