'As I was wading to the beach, an elderly man came forward from the

crowd to the water's edge, where he stood holding both his arms uplifted

over his head. Directly that I reached him, he took my hand, and put it

round his neck, and turned to walk up the beach. As I walked along with

him through the throng of men, more than three hundred in number, my arm

all the while round his neck, I overheard a few words which gave me some

slight clue as to the character of their language, and a very few words

go a long way on such occasions. We went inland some short distance,

passing through part of a large village, till we came to a house with

figures, idols or not, I hardly know, placed at some height above the

door.

'They pointed to these figures and repeated a name frequently, not

unlike the name of one of the gods of some of the islands further to the

north; then they struck the hollow tree, which is their native drum, and

thronged close round me, while I gave away a few fish-hooks, pieces of

red braid, &c. I asked the names of some of the people, and of objects

about me, trees, birds, &c. I was particularly struck with two boys who

kept close to me. After some time I made signs that I would return to

the beach, and we began to move away from the village; but I was soon

stopped by some men, who brought me two small trees, making signs that I

should plant them.

'When I returned to the beach, the two boys were still with me, and I

took their hands and walked on amidst the crowd. I did not imagine that

they would come away with me, and yet a faint hope of their doing so

sprang up in my mind, as I still found them holding my hands, and even

when I began to wade towards the boat still close by my side in the

water. All this took place in the presence of several hundred natives,

who allowed these boys to place themselves in the boat and be taken on

board the schooner.

'I was somewhat anxious about revisiting an island called Tikopia.

Once we were there, five or six years ago. The island is small, and the

inhabitants probably not more than three hundred or four hundred. They

are Polynesians, men of very large stature, rough in manner, and not

very easily managed. I landed there and waded across the reef among

forty or fifty men. On the beach a large party assembled. I told them

in a sort of Polynesian patois, that I wished to take away two lads from

their island, that I might learn their language, and come back and teach

them many things for their good. This they did not agree to. They said

that some of the full-grown men wished to go away with me; but to this

I in my turn could not agree. These great giants would be wholly

unmanageable in our school at present. I went back to the edge of the

reef--about three hundred yards--and got into the boat with two men;

we rowed off a little way, and I attempted, more quietly than the noisy

crowd on shore would allow, to explain to them my object in coming

to them. After a while we pulled back to the reef, and I waded ashore

again; but I could not induce them to let me take any one away who was

at all eligible for the school. Still I was very thankful to have been

able twice to land and remain half an hour or more on shore among the

people. Next year (D.V.) I may be able to see more of them, and perhaps

may obtain a scholar, and so open the island. It is a place visited

by whalers, but they never land here, and indeed the inhabitants are

generally regarded as dangerous fellows to deal with, so I was all the

more glad to have made a successful visit.

'Nothing could have been more delightful than the day I spent in making

frequent landings on the north side of Santa Cruz. This island was

visited by Spaniards, under the command of Mendana, nearly three hundred

years ago. They attempted to found a colony there, but after a short

time were compelled, by illness and the death of Mendana and his

successor, to abandon their endeavour. It is apparently a very fertile

island, certainly a very populous one. The inhabitants are very

ingenious, wearing beautiful ornaments, making good bags woven of grass

stained with turmeric, and fine mats. Their arrows are elaborately

carved, and not less elaborately poisoned: their canoes well made and

kept in good order. We never before landed on this island; but the

Primate, long before I was in this part of the world, and two or three

times since, had sailed and rowed into the bay at the north-west end,

called Graciosa Bay, the fine harbour in which the Spaniards anchored. I

went ashore this last voyage in seven different places, large crowds

of men thronging down to the water's edge as I waded to the beach. They

were exceedingly friendly, allowed me to enter the houses, sit down and

inspect their mode of building them. They brought me food to eat; and

when I went out of the houses again, let me examine the large sea-going

canoes drawn up in line on the beach. I wrote down very many names, and

tried hard to induce some young people to come away with me, but after

we had pulled off some way, their courage failed them, and they swam

back to the shore.

'Two or three of the men took off little ornaments and gave them to

me; one bright pretty boy especially I remember, who took off his shell

necklace and put it round my neck, making me understand, partly by

words, but more by signs, that he was afraid to come now, but would do

so if I returned, as I said, in eight or ten moons.

'Large baskets of almonds were given me, and other food also thrown into

the boat. I made a poor return by giving some fish-hooks and a tomahawk

to the man whom I took to be the person of most consequence. On shore

the women came freely up to me among the crowd, but they were afraid to

venture down to the beach. Now this is the island about which we have

long felt a great difficulty as to the right way of obtaining any

communication with the natives. This year, why and how I cannot tell,

the way was opened beyond all expectation. I tried hard to get back from

the Solomon Islands so as to revisit it again during the voyage, but we

could not get to the eastward, as the trade-wind blew constantly from

that quarter.

'At Leper's Island I had just such another day--or rather two days were

spent in making an almost complete visitation of the northern part of

the island--the people were everywhere most friendly, and I am hoping to

see them all again join us soon, when some may be induced to.

'It would be the work of days to tell you all our adventures. How at

Malanta I picked two lads out of a party of thirty-six in a grand war

canoe going on a fighting expedition--and very good fellows they are;

how we filled up our water-casks at Aurora, standing up to our necks

in the clear cool stream rushing down from a cataract above, with the

natives assisting us in the most friendly manner; how at Santa Maria,

which till this year we never visited without being shot at, I walked

for four or five hours far inland wherever I pleased, meeting great

crowds of men all armed and suspicious of each other--indeed actually

fighting with each other--but all friendly to me; how at Espiritu Santo,

when I had just thrown off my coat and tightened my belt to swim ashore

through something of a surf, a canoe was launched, and without more ado

a nice lad got into our boat and came away with us, without giving me

the trouble of taking a swim at all; how at Florida Island, never before

reached by us, one out of some eighty men, young and old, standing all

round me on the reef, to my astonishment returned with me to the boat,

and without any opposition from the people quietly seated himself by my

side and came away to the schooner; how at Pentecost Island, Taroniara

(a lad whom the Primate in old days had picked up in his canoe paddling

against a strong head wind, and kept him on board all night, and sent

him home with presents in the morning) now came away with me, but

not without his bow and poisoned arrows, of which I have taken safe

possession; how Misial felt sea-sick and home-sick for a day or two,

but upon being specially patronised by the cook, soon declared "that no

place could compare with the galley of a Mission vessel," to the truth

of which declaration the necessity of enlarging his scanty garments soon

bore satisfactory testimony; how at Ysabel the young chief came on board

with a white cockatoo instead of a hawk on his wrist, which he presented

to me with all the grace in the world, and with an enquiry after his

good friend Captain Hume, of H.M.S. "Cordelia," who had kindly taken me

to this island in the winter of 1861.'

To this may be added some touches from the home letter of August 27, off

Vanikoro:--

'I don't deny that I am thankful that the Tikopia visit is well over.

The people are so very powerful and so independent and unmanageable,

that I always have felt anxious about visiting them. Once we were there

in 1856, and now again. I hope to keep on visiting them annually. Sydney

traders have been there, but have never landed; they trade at arm's

length from their boat and are well armed. It is a strange sensation,

sitting alone (say) 300 yards from the boat, which of course can't be

trusted in their hands, among 200 or more of people really gigantic. No

men have I ever seen so large--huge Patagonian limbs, and great heavy

hands clutching up my little weak arms and shoulders. Yet it is not a

sensation of fear, but simply of powerlessness; and it makes one think,

as I do when among them, of another Power present to protect and defend.

'They perfectly understood my wish to bring away lads. Full-grown

Brobdignag men wished to come, and some got into the boat who were not

easily got out of it again. Boys swam off, wishing to come, but the

elder people prevented it, swimming after them and dragging them back.

It was a very rough, blustering day; but even on such a day the lee side

of the island is a beautiful sight, one mass of cocoa-nut trees, and the

villages so snugly situated among the trees.

'Just been up the rigging to get a good look at this great encircling

reef at Vanikoro. Green water as smooth as glass, inside the reef for

a mile, and then pretty villages; but there is no passage through the

reef, it is a continuous breakwater. We are working up towards a part

of the reef where I think there may be a passage. Anyhow I am gaining a

good local knowledge of this place, and that saves time another year.

'The ten lads on board talk six languages, not one of which do I know;

but as I get words and sentences from them, I see how they will "work

in" with the general character of the language of which I have several

dialects. It is therefore not very difficult to get on some little way

into all at once; but I must not be disappointed if I find that

other occupations take me away too much for my own pleasure from this

particular branch of my work.'

A long letter to Sir John T. Coleridge gives another aspect of the

voyage:--

'"Sea Breeze" Schooner: off Rennell Island. 'Therm. 89° in shade; lat.

11° 40', long. 160° 18' 5". 'September 7, 1862.

'My dear Uncle,--I can hardly keep awake for the unusually great heat.

The wind is northerly, and it is very light, indeed we are almost

becalmed, so you will have a sleepy letter, indeed over my book I was

already nodding. I think it better to write to you (though on a Sunday)

than to sleep. What a compliment! But I shall grow more wakeful as I

write. Perhaps my real excuse for writing is that I feel to-day much

oppressed with the thought of these great islands that I have been

visiting, and I am sadly disappointed in some of my scholars from San

Cristoval.

'Leaving New Zealand on June 20th, I sailed to Norfolk Island, where I

held my first Confirmation. By desire of the Bishop of Tasmania, I

act as Bishop for the Norfolk Islanders. This was, as you know, a very

solemn time for me; sixteen dear children were confirmed. Since that

time I have visited very many islands with almost unequalled success, as

far as effecting landings, opening communication, and receiving native

lads are concerned. I have on board natives from many places from which

we have never received them before. Many I have left with Mr. Dudley and

Mr. Pritt on Mota Island at school, but I have now twenty-one, speaking

eleven languages. At many places where we had never landed, I was

received well.

'The state of things, too, in the Banks Islands is very encouraging.

What do you think of my having two married (after their fashion) couples

on board from the Solomon Islands (San Cristoval and Contrariete)? This

was effected with some difficulty. Both the men are old scholars, of

course. I ought therefore to be most thankful; and yet my heart is

sad because, after promises given by Grariri and his wife, Parenga and

Kerearua (all old scholars, save Mrs. Garm), not one came away with me

yesterday, and I feel grieved at the loss of my dear boys, who can read

and write, and might be taught so much now! It is all very faithless;

but I must tell it all to you, for indeed I do not feel as if I had

any right to expect it otherwise, but in the moment of perceiving and

confessing that it is very good for me, I find out for the first time

how much my heart was set upon having them.

'And then San Cristoval, sixty miles long, with its villages and

languages, and Malanta over eighty miles long, and Guadalcanar, seventy!

It is a silly thought or a vain, human wish, but I feel as if I longed

to be in fifty or a hundred places at once. But God will send qualified

men in good time. In the meanwhile (for the work must be carried on

mainly by native teachers gathered from each island), as some fall off I

must seek to gain others. Even where lads are only two, or even one year

with mer and then apparently fall back to what they were before, some

good may be done, the old teaching may return upon them some day, and

they may form a little nucleus for good, though not now.

'As for openings for men of the right sort, they abound. Really if I

were free to locate myself on an island instead of going about to all, I

hardly know to which of some four or five I ought to go. But it is of

no use to have men who are not precisely the kind of men wanted. Somehow

one can't as yet learn to ask men to do things that one does oneself

as a matter of course. It needs a course of training to get rid of

conventional notions. I think that Norfolk Island may supply a few, a

very few fellows able to be of use, and perhaps New Zealand will do so,

and I have the advantage of seeing and knowing them. I don't think that

I must expect men from England, I can't pay them well; and it is so very

difficult to give a man on paper any idea of what his life will be in

Melanesia or Kohimarama. So very much that would be most hazardous to

others has ceased to be so to me, because I catch up some scrap of the

language talked on the beach, and habit has given an air of coolness and

assurance. But this does not come all at once, and you cannot talk

about all this to others. I feel ashamed as I write it even to you. They

bother me to put anecdotes of adventures into our Report, but I cannot.

You know no one lands on these places but myself, and it would be no

good to tell stories merely to catch somebody's ear. It was easier to do

so when the Bishop and I went together, but I am not training up anyone

to be the visitor, and so I don't wish anybody else to go with me.

Besides Mr. Pritt and Mr. Dudley are bad swimmers, and Mr. Kerr not

first-rate. My constant thought is "By what means will God provide for

the introduction of Christianity into these islands," and my constant

prayer that He will reveal such means to me, and give me grace to use

them.

'What reality there is in such a work as this! What continual need of

guidance and direction! I here see before me now an island stretching

away twenty-five miles in length! Last night I left one sixty miles

long. I know that hundreds are living there ignorant of God, wild men,

cannibals, addicted to every vice. I know that Christ died for them, and

that the message is for them, too. How am I to deliver it? How find an

entrance among them? How, when I have learnt their language, speak to

them of religion, so as not to introduce unnecessary obstacles to the

reception of it, nor compromise any of its commands?

'Thank God I can fall back upon many solid points of comfort--chiefest

of all, He sees and knows it all perfectly. He sees the islanders too,

and loves them, how infinitely more than I can! He desires to save them.

He is, I trust, sending me to them. He will bless honest endeavours

to do His will among them. And then I think how it must all appear to

angels and saints, how differently they see these things. Already, to

their eyes, the light is breaking forth in Melanesia; and I take great

comfort from this thought, and remember that it does not matter whether

it is in my time, only I must work on. And then I think of the prayers

of the Church, ascending continually for the conversion of the heathen;

and I know that many of you are praying specially for the heathen of

Melanesia. And so one's thoughts float out to India, and China, and

Japan, and Africa, and the islands of the sea, and the very vastness of

the work raises one's thoughts to God, as the only One by whom it must

be done.

'Now, dear Uncle, I have written all this commonplace talk, not

regarding its dulness in your eyes, but because I felt weary and also

somewhat overwrought and sad; and it has done me much good, and given me

a happy hour.

'We had our service on board this morning, and the Holy Eucharist

afterwards; Mr. Kerr, two Norfolk Islanders, a Maori, and a Nengone man

present. I ought not to be faint-hearted. My kind love to Aunt and Mary.

'Your affectionate and dutiful Nephew,

'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'

The climate of Mota had again disagreed with Mr. Dudley, who was laid up

with chronic rheumatism nearly all the time he was there; and the Bishop

returned from his voyage very unwell; but Mr. Pritt happily was strong

and active, and the elder Banks Island scholars were very helpful, both

in working and teaching, so that the schools went on prosperously, and

the custom of carrying weapons in Mota was dropped.

On November 7 the 'Sea Breeze' was again in harbour; and on the 15th,

after mature consideration, was written this self-sacrificing letter:--

'St. Andrew's: November 15, 1862.

'My dearest Sisters,--I returned from a voyage unusually interesting and

prosperous on the 7th of this month; absent just nineteen weeks. We were

in all on board seventy-one.

'I found all your letters from April to August 25. How thankful I am to

see and know what I never doubted, the loving manner in which my first

and later letters about New Zealand were taken. How wise of you to

perceive that in truth my judgment remained all through unaltered,

though my feelings were strongly moved, indeed the good folk here begged

me to reconsider my resolution, thinking no doubt kindly for me that it

would be so great a joy to me to see you. Of course it would; were there

no other considerations that we already know and agree upon, what joy so

great on earth! But I feel sure that we are right. Thank God that we

can so speak, think, and act with increasing affection and trust in each

other!

'The more I think of it, the more I feel "No, it would not do! It would

not be either what Joan expects or what Fan expects. They look at it in

some ways alike--i.e., in the matter of seeing me, which both equally

long to do. In some ways they regard it differently. But it would not

to one or the other be the thing they hope and wish for. They would

both feel (what yet they would not like to acknowledge) disappointment."

Though, therefore, I could not help feeling often during the voyage,

"What if I hear that they may be with me by Christmas!" yet it was not

exactly unwelcome to hear that you do not come. I recognised at once

your reading of my letters as the right one; and my feelings, strong

as they are, give way to other considerations, especially when, from my

many occupations, I have very little time to indulge them.

'But for the thought of coming, and your great love to me, I thank you,

dear ones, with all my heart. May God bless you for it!...

'Good-bye, my dear Sisters; we are together in heart at all events.

'Your loving Brother, 'J. C. P.'

The judgment had decided that the elder sister especially would suffer

more from the rough life at Kohimarama than her brother could bear that

she should undergo, when he could give her so little of his society as

compensation, without compromising his own decided principle that all

must yield to the work. Perhaps he hardly knew how much he betrayed

of the longing, even while deciding against its gratification; but his

sisters were wise enough to act on his judgment, and not on their own

impulse; and the events of the next season proved that he had been

right. To Sir John Coleridge he wrote:--

'Kohimarama: November 15, 1862.

'My dear Uncle,--I should indeed, as you say, delight to have a ramble

in the old scenes, and a good unburthening of thoughts conceived during

the past seven or eight years.

'And yet you see I could not try the experiment of those dear good

sisters of mine coming out. It would not have been what they expected

and meant to come out to. I am little seen by any but Melanesians, and

quite content that it should be so. I can't do what I want with them,

nor a tenth part of it as it is. I cannot write to you of this last

voyage--in many respects a most remarkable one--indicating, if I am not

over hopeful, a new stage in our Mission work. Many islands yielding

scholars for the first time; old scholars, with but few exceptions,

steadfast and rapidly improving; no less than fifty-seven Melanesians

here now from twenty-four islands, exclusive of the Loyalty Islands,

and five bright Pitcairners, from twenty-four to sixteen, helpful,

good, conscientious lads. There are eight languages that I do not know,

besides all the rest; yet I can see that they are all links in the great

chain of dialects of the great "Pacific language,"--yet dialects very

far removed sometimes from one another.

'I find it not very easy to comply with reasonable demands from men in

Europe, who want to know about these things. If I had time and ability,

I think I should enjoy really going into philology. I get books sent me

from people such as Max Muller, Grabalentz, &c.; and if I write to them

at all, it is useless to write anything but an attempt at classification

of the dialects; and that is difficult, for there are so many, and

it takes so long to explain to another the grounds upon which I feel

justified in connecting dialects and calling them cognate. It becomes an

instinct almost, I suppose, with people in the trade.

'But I hardly know how far I ought to spend any time in such things.

Elementary grammars for our own missionaries and teachers are useful,

and the time is well spent in writing them. Hence it is that I do not

write longer letters. Oh! how I enjoy writing un-business letters; but I

can't help it--it's part of my business now to write dull Reports--i.e.

reports that I can't help making dull, and all the rest of it....

'I cannot write about Bishop Mackenzie. Mr. Pritt (at 9.30 P.M. the

night we landed) put his head into my room and said, "Bishop Mackenzie

is dead," and I sat and sat on and knelt and could not take it all in! I

cannot understand what the papers say of his modus operandi, yet I know

that it was an error of judgment, if an error at all, and there may be

much which we do not know. So I suspend my opinion.'

In a letter to myself, written by the same mail, in reply to one in

which I had begged him to consider what was the sight, to a Christian

man, of slaves driven off with heavy yokes on their necks, and whether

it did not justify armed interposition, he replies with arguments that

it is needless now to repeat, but upholding the principle that

the shepherd is shepherd to the cruel and erring as well as to the

oppressed, and ought not to use force. The opinion is given most humbly

and tenderly, for he had a great veneration for his brother Missionary

Bishop. Commenting on the fact that Bishop Selwyn's speech at Cambridge

had made Charles Mackenzie a missionary, and that he would gladly have

hailed an invitation to the Australasian field of labour, the letter

proceeds:--

'How wonderful it is to reflect upon the events of the last few years!

Had he come out when I did to New Zealand, I might be now his Missionary

Chaplain; and yet it is well that there should be two missionary

dioceses, and without the right man for the African Mission, there might

have been a difficulty in carrying out the plan.

'The chapel is not built yet, for I have sixty mouths to feed, and other

buildings must be thought of for health's sake. But I have settled all

that in my will.'

'In a postscript is mentioned the arrival of some exquisite altar plate

for the College chapel, which had been offered by a lady, who had also

bountifully supplied with chronometers and nautical instruments the

'Southern Cross,' which was fast being built at Southampton.

The above letter was accompanied by one to Dr. Moberly:--

'St. Andrew's College, Kohimarama: Nov. 18, 1862.

'My dear Dr. Moberly,--Thank you heartily for writing to me. It is

a real help to me and to others also, I think, of my party to be in

communication with those whom we have long respected, and whose prayers

we now more than ever earnestly ask. We returned on November 7 from a

very remarkable voyage.

'I was nineteen weeks absent all but a day: sailed far beyond our most

distant island in my previous voyage, landed nearly eighty times amidst

(often) 300 and more natives, naked, armed, &c., and on no less than

thirty or forty places never trodden before (as far as I know) by the

foot of a white man. Not one arm was lifted up against me, not one bow

drawn or spear shaken. I think of it all quietly now with a sort of

wondering thankfulness.

'From not less than eight islands we have now for the first time

received native lads; and not only are openings being thus made for us

in many directions, but the permanent training of our old scholars is

going on most favourably; so that by the blessing of God we hope, at

all events in the Banks Islands, to carry on continuously the Mission

Schools during the winter and summer also. We have spent the three last

winters here, but it would not be wise to run the risk of the damp hot

climate in the summer. Natives of the island must do this, and thank God

there are natives being raised up now to do it. The enclosed translation

of a note. It is but three or four years since the language was reduced

to writing, and here is a young man writing down his thoughts to me

after a long talk about the question of his being baptized.

'Four others there are soon, by God's blessing, to be baptized

also--Sarawia from Vanua Lava, Tagalana from Aroa, Pasvorang from

Eowa, Woleg from Mota, and others are pressing on; Taroniara from San

Cristoval, Kanambat from New Caledonia, &c. I tell you their names, for

you will I know, remember them in your prayers.

'Will you kindly let Mr. Keble see the enclosed note? It does not, of

course, give much idea of the lad's state of mind; but he is thoroughly

in earnest, and as for his knowledge of his duty there can be no

question there. He really knows his Catechism. I have scarcely a minute

to write by this mail. Soon you will have, I hope, a sketch of our last

voyage. We remember you all, benefactors and benefactresses, daily.

Thank you again for writing to me: it humbles me, as it ought to do, to

receive such a letter from you.

'Very faithfully yours,

'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'

These names deserve note: Sarawia the first to be ordained of the

Melanesian Church; and Taroniara, who was to share his Bishop's death.

B----, as will be seen, has had a far more chequered course. Tagalana

is described in another letter as having the thoughtfulness of one who

knows that he has the seeds of early death in him; but he, the living

lectern at the consecration, has lived to be the first deacon of his

island of Aroa.

The ensuing is to the Rev. Derwent Coleridge, at that time Principal

of St. Mark's Training College, Chelsea, upon the question whether that

institution would afford assistants:--

'Auckland, New Zealand: Nov. 15, 1862.

'My dear Cousin,--You will not be surprised, I hope, to hear from me;

I only wish I had written to you long ago. But until quite recently

we could not speak with so much confidence concerning the Melanesian

Mission, and it is of little use to write vaguely on matters which I am

anxious now to make known to you.

'The general plan of the Mission you may get some notion of from the

last year's Report (which I send), and possibly you may have heard or

seen something about it in former years. This last voyage of nineteen

weeks, just concluded, has determined me to write to you; for the time

is come when we want helpers indeed, and I think that you will expect me

naturally to turn to you.

'It is not only that very many islands throughout the South Pacific,

from the Loyalty Islands on to the northwest as far as Ysabel Island in

the Solomon group, are now yielding up scholars and affording

openings for Mission stations, though this indeed is great matter for

thankfulness; but there is, thank God, a really working staff gathered

round us from the Banks Archipelago, which affords a definite field,

already partially occupied with a regular system at work in it; and here

young persons may receive the training most needed for them, actually

on a heathen island, though soon not to be without some few Christians

amongst its population. Now I can say to anyone willing and qualified to

help me:--

'In the six summer months there is the central school work in New

Zealand, where now there are with me fifty-one Melanesians from

twenty-four islands, speaking twenty-three languages; and in the six

winter months there is a station regularly occupied on Mota Island,

where all the necessary experience of life in the islands can be

acquired.

'I am not in any hurry for men. Norfolk Island has given me five young

fellows from twenty-one to sixteen years of age, who already are very

useful. One has been with me a year, another four months. They are

given unreservedly into my hands, and already are working well into our

school, taking the superintendence of our cooking, e.g., off our hands;

with some help from us, they will be very useful at once as helpers on

Mota, doing much in the way of gardening, putting up huts, &c., which

will free us for more teaching work, &c., and they are being educated

by us with an eye to their future employment (D.V.) as missionaries. I

would not wish for better fellows; their moral and religious conduct is

really singularly good--you know their circumstances and the character

of the whole community. But I should be thankful by-and-by to have men

equally willing to do anything, yet better educated in respect of book

knowledge. No one is ever asked to do what we are not willing to do, and

generally in the habit of doing ourselves--cooking, working, &c., &c.

But the Melanesian lads really do all this kind of work now. I have

sixty mouths to fill here now; and Melanesian boys, told out week by

week, do the whole of the cooking (simple enough, of course) for us

all with perfect punctuality. I don't think any particular taste for

languages necessary at all. Anyone who will work hard at it can learn

the language of the particular class assigned to him. Earnest, bright,

cheerful fellows, without that notion of "making sacrifices," &c.,

perpetually occurring to their minds, would be invaluable. You know

the kind of men, who have got rid of the conventional notion that more

self-denial is needed for a missionary than for a sailor or soldier,

who are sent anywhere, and leave home and country for years, and think

nothing of it, because they go "on duty." Alas! we don't so read our

ordination vows. A fellow with a healthy, active tone of mind, plenty

of enterprise and some enthusiasm, who makes the best of everything, and

above all does not think himself better than other people because he

is engaged in Mission work--that is the fellow we want. I assume, of

course, the existence of sound religious principle as the greatest

qualification of all. Now, if there be any young persons whom you could

wish to see engaged in this Mission now at St. Mark's, or if you know

of any such and feel justified in speaking to them, you will be doing a

great kindness to me, and, I believe, aiding materially in this work.

'I should not wish at all any young man to be pledged to anything; as on

my part I will not pledge myself to accept, much less ordain, any man

of whom I have no personal knowledge. But let anyone really in earnest,

with a desire and intention (as far as he is concerned) to join the

Mission, come to me about December or January in any year. Then he

will live at the Mission College till the end of April, and can see for

himself the mode of life at the Central Summer School in New Zealand.

Then let him take a voyage with me, see Melanesians in their own homes,

stop for a while at Mota--e.g. make trial of the climate, &c., &c., and

then let me have my decisive talk with him.

'If he will not do for the work, I must try and find other employment

for him in some New Zealand diocese, or help to pay his passage home.

I don't think such a person as you would recommend would fail to make

himself useful; but I must say plainly that I would rather not have a

man from England at all, than be bound to accept a man who might not

thoroughly and cordially work into the general system that we have

adopted. We live together entirely, all meals in common, same cabin,

same hut, and the general life and energy of us all would be damaged by

the introduction of any one discordant element. You will probably say,

"Men won't go out on these terms," and this is indeed probable, yet

if they are the right fellows for this work--a work wholly anomalous,

unlike all other work that they have thought of in many respects--they

will think that what I say is reasonable, and like the prospect all

the better (I think) because they see that it means downright work in a

cheery, happy, hopeful, friendly spirit.

'A man who takes the sentimental view of coral islands and cocoa-nuts,

of course, is worse than useless; a man possessed with the idea that he

is making a sacrifice will never do; and a man who thinks any kind of

work "beneath a gentleman" will simply be in the way, and be rather

uncomfortable at seeing the Bishop do what he thinks degrading to do

himself. I write all this quite freely, wishing to convey, if possible,

some idea to you of the kind of men we need. And if the right fellow is

moved by God's grace to come out, what a welcome we will give him, and

how happy he will soon be in a work the abundant blessings of which none

can know as we know them. There are three clergymen with me. Mr. Pritt,

who came out with the Bishop of Nelson as his chaplain, but who, I am

thankful to say, is regularly part and parcel of the Mission staff; Mr.

Dudley, ordained last year, who for six years has been in the Mission,

and has had the special advantage of being trained under the Primate's

eye; and Mr. Kerr who was also ordained about ten months ago.

'I give 100 pounds to a clergyman when ordained, increasing it

101 annually to a maximum of 150 pounds. But this depends upon

subscriptions, &c. I could not pledge myself even to this, except in the

case of a man very highly recommended. But of this I will write more.

'Again let me say that I do not want anyone yet, not this year. I shall

be off again (D.V.) in the beginning of May 1863, for six months; and

if then I find on my return (D.V.) in November, letters from you, either

asking me to write with reference to any young man, or informing me that

one is on the way out, that will be quite soon enough.

'I need not say I don't expect any such help so soon, if at all.

'Finally, pray don't think that I underrate the great advantage of

having such persons as St. Mark's produces; but I write guardedly. My

kind love to Mrs. Derwent.

'Affectionately yours,

'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'

On the 29th of December, after two pages of affectionate remarks on

various family incidents, the letter proceeds:--

'We are having an extra scrubbing in preparation for our visitors on

Thursday, who may wish to be with us on the occasion of the baptism of

our six Banks Islanders; and I am writing in the midst of it, preferring

to sit in the schoolroom to my own room, which is very tiny and very

hot.

'We have some eight only out of the fifty-one whom I am obliged to treat

rather as an awkward squad, not that they are too stupid to learn, but

that we cannot give them the individual attention that is necessary.

They teach me their language; but I cannot put them into any class where

they could be regularly taught--indeed, they are not young fellows

whom I should bring again. They do the work of introducing us to their

islands, and of teaching us something of their language. So I continue

to give them what little time I can--the real strength of our force

being given to those whom we hope to have here again.

'We are all on the qui vive about our beautiful vessel, hoping to see it

in about six or eight weeks. It will, please God, be for years the great

means by which we may carry on the Mission if we live; and all the care

that has been spent upon it has been well spent, you may be sure.

'I don't want to appear as if I expected this to be done in one sense,

but it is only when I think of the personal interest shown in it that I

suppose it right to thank people much. I don't want it to be thought of

any more than you do as a gift to us particular missionaries. It is the

Church carrying on its own work. Yet, as you truly say, private feelings

and interests are not to be treated rudely; and I do think it a

very remarkable thing that some 2,000 pounds should be raised by

subscriptions, especially when one knows that so very few people have an

idea of the work that is being done.'

'What a blessed New Year's rejoicing in hope here follows:--

'Kohimarama: Jan. 1, 1863.

'My dearest Sisters,--The first letter of the year to you! Thank God for

bringing us to see it! It is 1 P.M., and at 4.30 P.M. six dear children

(from twenty-two to fourteen) are to be baptized. Everything in one

sense is done; how very little in the other and higher sense! May

Almighty God pour the fulness of His blessing upon them! I sit and look

at them, and my heart is too full for words. They sit with me, and

bring their little notes with questions that they scarcely dare trust

themselves to speak about. You will thank God for giving me such

comfort, such blessings, and such dear children. How great a mercy it

is! How unexpected! May God make me humble and patient through it all!

'What a sight it would be for you four hours hence! Our party of

sixty-one, visitors from Auckland, the glorious day, and the holy

service, for which all meet.

'I use Proper Psalms, 89, 96, 126, 145, and for lessons a few verses, 2

Kings v. 9-15, and Acts viii. 35-9. After the third Collect, the Primate

may say a few words, or I may do so; and then I shall use our usual

Melanesian Collect for many islands, very briefly named; and so conclude

with the Blessing.

'What this is to me you must try and realise, that you may be partakers

of my joy and thankfulness. To have Christians about me, to whom I can

speak with a certainty of being understood, to feel that we are all

bound together in the blessed Communion of the Body of Christ, to know

that angels on high are rejoicing and evil spirits being chased away,

that all the Banks Islands and all Melanesia are experiencing, as it

were, the first shock of a mighty earthquake, that God who foresees the

end may, in his merciful Providence, be calling even these very children

to bear His message to thousands of heathens, is not it too much?

One's heart is not large enough for it, and confession of one's own

unworthiness breaks off involuntarily into praise and glory!

'I know, my dear Sisters, that this is most likely one of the great

blessings that precede great trials. I can't expect or wish (perhaps)

always to sail with a fair wind, yet I try to remember that trial must

come, without on that account restraining myself from a deep taste of

the present joy. I can't describe it!

'Then we have now much that we ever can talk about--deep talk about Mota

and the other islands, and the special temptations to which they must

be exposed; that now is the time when the devil will seek with all his

might to "have" them, and so hinder God's work in the land; that they

have been specially blest by God to be the first to desire to know His

will, and that they have heavy responsibilities.

'"Yes," they say, "we see man does not know that his room is dirty and

full of cobwebs while it is all dark; and another man, whose room is not

half so dirty, because the sun shines into it and shows the dirt, thinks

his room much worse than the other. That is like our hearts. It is worse

now to be angry than it was to shoot a man a long time ago. But the more

the sun shines in, the more we shall find cobwebs and dirt, long after

we thought the room was clean. Yes, we know what that means. We asked

you what would help us to go on straight in the path, now that we are

entering at the gate. We said prayer, love, helping our countrymen. Now

we see besides watchfulness, self-examination; and then you say we must

at once look forward to being confirmed, as the people you confirmed

at Norfolk Island. Then there is the very great thing, the holy and the

great, the Supper of the Lord." So, evening by evening and day by day,

we talk, this being of course not called school, being, indeed, my great

relaxation, for this is the time when they are like children with a

father.

'I know I feel it so. Don't take the above as a fair sample of our

talk, for the more solemn words we say about God's Love, Christ's

Intercession, and the Indwelling of the Spirit, I can hardly write down

now.

'Your loving Brother,

'J. C. P.

'P.S.--Feast of the Epiphany. Those dear children were baptized on

Thursday. A most solemn interesting scene it was!'

Thoroughly happy indeed was the Bishop at this time. In a note of

February 3 to the Bishop of Wellington, he speaks of the orderly state

of the College:--

'Mr. Pritt has made a complete change in the Melanesian school, very

properly through me; not putting himself forward, but talking with

me, suggesting, accepting suggestions, giving the benefit of his great

knowledge of boys and the ways to educate them. All the punctuality,

order, method, &c., are owing to him; and he is so bright and hearty,

thoroughly at ease with the boys, and they with him.'

The same note announces two more recruits--Mr. John Palmer, a

theological student at St. John's, and Joseph Atkin, the only son of a

settler in the neighbourhood, who had also held a scholarship there.

He had gained it in 1860, after being educated at the Taranaki Scotch

School and the Church of England Grammar School at Parnell, and his

abilities were highly thought of. The Bishop says:--

'Joe Atkin, you will be glad to hear, has joined us on probation till

next Christmas, but he is very unlikely to change his mind. He and his

father have behaved in a very straightforward manner. I am not at all

anxious to get fellows here in a hurry. The Norfolk Islanders, e.g., are

in need of training much more than our best Melanesians, less useful as

teachers, cooks, even as examples. This will surprise you, but it is so.

'I have long suspected that Joe thought about joining us. He tells me,

"You never would give me a chance to speak to you, Sir."

"Quite true, Joe; I wished the thought to work itself out in your own

mind, and then I thought it right to speak first to your father."

'I told him that I could offer but "a small and that an uncertain

salary" should he be ordained five years hence; and that he ought to

think of that, that there was nothing worldly in his wishing to secure

a maintenance by-and-by for wife and child, and that I much doubted my

power to provide it. But this did not at all shake either his father or

him. I have a great regard for the lad, and I know you have.'

From that time forward reading with and talking with 'Joe Atkin' was one

of the chief solaces of the Bishop's life, though at present the young

man was only on trial, and could not as yet fill the place of Mr.

Benjamin Dudley, who, soon after the voyage, married, and returned to

Canterbury settlement. The loss was felt, as appears in the following:--

'Kohimarama; Saturday, 1 P.M., Feb. 7, 1863.

'My dearest Sisters,--I have a heavy cold, so you must expect a stupid

letter. I am off in an hour or two for a forty-mile ride, to take

to-morrow's services (four) among soldiers and settlers. The worst of it

is that I have no chance of sleep at the end, for the mosquitos near the

river are intolerable. How jolly it would be, nevertheless, if you were

here, and strong enough to make a sort of picnic ride of it. I do it

this way: strap in front of the saddle a waterproof sheet, with my silk

gown, Prayer-book, brush and comb, razor and soap, a clean tie, and

a couple of sea biscuits. Then at about 3 P.M. off I go. About twenty

miles or so bring me to Papakura, an ugly but good road most of the way.

Here there is an inn. I stop for an hour and a half, give the horse a

good feed, and have my tea. At about 7.30 or 8 I start again, and ride

slowly along a good road this dry weather. The moon rises at 9.30,

and by that time I shall be reaching the forest, through which a good

military road runs. This is the part of the road I should like to show

you. Such a night as this promises to be! It will be beautiful. About 11

I reach a hut made of reeds on the very brink of the river, tether the

horse, give him a feed, which I carry with me from Papakura, light a

fire (taking matches) inside the hut, and try to smoke away mosquitos,

lie down in your plaid, Joan--do you remember giving it to me?--and get

what sleep I can. To-morrow I work my way home again, the fourth service

being at Papakura at 4 P.M., so I ought to be at Kohimarama by 9 P.M.,

dead tired I expect. I think these long days tire me more than they did;

and I really do see not a few white hairs, a dozen or so, this is quite

right and respectable.

'I am writing now because I am tired with this cold, but chiefly because

when I write only for the mail I send you such wretched scrawls, just

business letters, or growls about something or other which I magnify

into a grievance. But really, dear Joan and Fan, I do like much writing

to you; only it is so very seldom I can do so, without leaving undone

some regular part of the day's work. I am quite aware that you want to

know more details about my daily life, and I really wish to supply them;

but then I am so weary when I get a chance of writing, that I let my

mind drift away with my pen, instead of making some effort to write

thoughtfully. How many things I should like to talk about, and which I

ought to write about: Bishops Mackenzie and Colenso, the true view of

what heathenism is, Church government, the real way to hope to get at

the mass of heathens at home, the need of a different education in some

respects for the clergy, &c. But I have already by the time I begin to

write taken too much out of myself in other ways to grapple with

such subjects, and so I merely spin out a yarn about my own special

difficulties and anxieties.

'Don't mind my grumbling. I think that it is very ungrateful of me to

do so, when, this year especially, I am receiving such blessings; it is

partly because I am very much occupied, working at high pressure, partly

because I do not check my foolish notions, and let matters worry me. I

don't justify it a bit; nor must you suppose that because I am very busy

just now, I am really the worse for it. The change to sea life will

set me all to rights again; and I feel that much work must be done in a

little time, and a wise man would take much more pains than I do to keep

himself in a state fit to do it.

'I have told you about our manner of life here. Up at 5, when I go round

and pull the blankets, not without many a joke, off the sleeping boys,

many of the party are already up and washing. Then, just before prayers,

I go into the kitchen and see that all is ready for breakfast. Prayers

at 5.45 in English, Mota, Baura, &c., beginning with a Mota Hymn, and

ending with the Lord's Prayer in English. Breakfast immediately after:

at our table Mr. Pritt, Mr. Kerr, and young Atkin who has just joined

us. At the teachers' table, five Norfolk Islanders, Edward (a Maori),

five girls and two of their husbands, and the three girls being placed

at this table because they are girls; Melanesians at the other three

tables indiscriminately. There are four windows, one at the north, three

at the east side. The school and chapel, in one long modern building,

form the corresponding wing on the eastern side of my little room, and

the boys dormitories between.

'We are daily expecting the vessel, though it will be a quick passage

for her if she comes in the next ten days, and then what a bustle!

'We send Dudley and his wife away to Canterbury for eight or nine

months; he is so weak as to make the change, which I had urged him to

try for some time past, quite necessary.

'Next Sunday a Confirmation at Orehunga, eight miles off; back to

Auckland for catechising and Baptism at 3 p.m. and evening service at

6.30, and never a word of either sermon written, and all the school

work! Never mind, a good growl to you is a fine restorative, and really

I get on very well somehow.

'Well, good-bye, you dear Sisters,

'Your affectionate Brother,

'J. C. P.'

On the last day of February came the new 'Southern Cross,' and two

delightful notes announced it to the Vicar of Hursley and to myself in

one envelope.

'St. Andrew's: Feb. 28, 1863.

'My dear Cousin,--The "Southern Cross" arrived safely this morning.

Thanks to God!

'What it is to us even you can hardly tell; I know not how to pour out

my thankfulness. She seems admirably adapted for the work. Mr. Tilly's

report of her performance is most satisfactory: safe, fast, steers well,

and very manageable. Internal arrangements very good; after cabin too

luxurious, but then that may be wanted for sick folk, and as it is

luxurious, why I shall get a soft bed, and take to it very kindly.

'Pray let dear Mr. Keble and Dr. Moberly know at once how very happy

and thankful I am for this blessing. I know all you good friends at home

will try to picture to yourselves my delight as I jumped on board!

'The boys are, of course, wild with excitement. It is blowing very hard.

Last night (when we were thinking of them) it was an anxious night for

them close on the coast.

'I have no time to write more. I thought of Lady... as I looked at

the chronometers and instruments, and of you all as I looked at the

beautiful vessel slipping along through the water with scarce a stitch

of canvas. I pray that she may be spared many years to the Mission,

and that we may have grace to use her, as she ought to be used, to His

glory.

'Your affectionate Cousin,

'J. C. PATTESON, Bishop.

'You know that you are daily remembered in our prayers. God bless you.'

'10.30 P.M., March 1, 1863.

'My dear Mr. Keble,--One line, though on Sunday night, to tell you of

the safe arrival of the "Southern Cross." You have a large share in her,

and she has a large share in your good wishes and prayers, I am sure.

'Solemn thoughts on this day, an Ordination Sunday, mingle with the joy

at the coming of this messenger (I trust of mercy and peace). I need not

ask you to pray continually for us, for I know you do so. But indeed,

now is the time when we seem especially to need your prayers.

'The lads have no lack of intellectual capacity, they not unfrequently

surprise me. Now is the time when they are in the receptive state, and

now especially any error on our part may give a wrong direction to

the early faith of thousands! What an awful thought! We are their only

teachers, the only representatives of Christianity among them. How

inexpressibly solemn and fearful! This is the thought so perpetually

present to me. The training of the future missionaries of Melanesia

is, by God's Providence, placed in our hands. No wonder that I feel

sometimes overwhelmed at the thought!

'But I know that if God gives me grace to become more simple-minded and

humble, He will order even this aright. You I know will pray more than

ever for me. My kindest regards to Mrs. Keble; I hope she is better.

'Your affectionate and grateful young Friend,

'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'

Before the first joy of the arrival was over, ere the 'Southern Cross'

could make her first voyage among the multitude of isles, a great

calamity had fallen upon St. Andrew's. Whether it was from the large

numbers, or the effect of the colder climate, or from what cause

could not be told, but a frightful attack of dysentery fell upon the

Melanesians, and for several weeks suffering and death prevailed among

them. How Bishop Patteson tended them during this time can be better

guessed than described.

Archdeacon Lloyd, who came to assist in the cares of the small party of

clergy, can find no words to express the devotion with which the Bishop

nursed them, comforting and supporting them, never shrinking from the

most repulsive offices, even bearing out the dead silently at night,

lest the others should see and be alarmed.

Still no mail, except during the voyages, had ever left New Zealand

without a despatch for home; and time was snatched in the midst of all

this distress for a greeting, in the same beautiful, clear minute hand

as usual:--

'Hospital, St. Andrew's: Saturday night, 9 P.M., March 22, 1863.

'My dearest Brother and Sister,--I write from the dining hall (now our

hospital), with eleven Melanesians lying round me in extremity of peril.

I buried two to-day in one grave, and I baptized another now dying by my

side.

'God has been pleased in His wisdom and mercy to send upon us a terrible

visitation, a most virulent form of dysentery. Since this day fortnight

I have scarce slept night or day, but by snatching an hour here and

there; others are working quite as hard, and all the good points of our

Melanesian staff are brought out, as you may suppose.

'The best medical men cannot suggest any remedy. All remedies have been

tried and failed. Every conceivable kind of treatment has been tried

in vain. There are in the hall (the hospital now) at this moment

eleven--eleven more in the little quadrangle, better, but in as anxious

a state as can be; and two more not at all well.

'I have sent all the rest on board to be out of the way of contagion.

How we go on I scarce know.... My good friend, Mr. Lloyd, is here,

giving great help; he is well acquainted with sickness and a capital

nurse.

'I have felt all along that it would be good for us to be in trouble;

we could not always sail with a fair wind, I have often said so, and God

has sent the trial in the most merciful way. What is this to the falling

away of our baptized scholars!

'But it is a pitiful sight! How wonderfully they bear the agony of it.

No groaning.

'When I buried those two children to-day, my heart was full, I durst not

think, but could only pray and believe and trust in Him. God bless you.

'Your loving Brother,

'J. C. P.

'O Lord, correct me, but with judgment!'

On the 25th, two more were dead, and buried without time to make

coffins, for thirteen still hung between life and death, while fresh

cases were sent from on board ship. Mr. Pritt and Mr. Palmer cooked

nourishing food and prepared rice-water unceasingly; while the others

tended the sick, and the Primate returned from a journey to give his

effective aid. On the night of the 30th, a fifth died unexpectedly,

having only been ill a week, the only scholar from Pentecost Island. One

of these lads, when all hope was over, was wrapped in his white winding

sheet, carried into the chapel, and there baptized by the Bishop, with

choked voice and weeping eyes.

Over those who had not faith enough to justify him in baptizing them, he

said the following prayers as he laid them in their graves:--

'Sentences. Psalms from the Burial Service.

'Forasmuch as it hath pleased Thee, O Almighty God, to take from amongst

us the souls of these two children committed to our charge, we therefore

commit their bodies to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust

to dust; humbly commending to Thy Fatherly mercy these and all other Thy

children who know not Thee, whom Thou knowest, who art the Father and

Lord of all things in heaven and earth, to whom be all praise and glory,

with Thy Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.

Amen.

'We humbly beseech Thee, most merciful God, to remember for good the

inhabitants of the islands of Melanesia, and specially we pray God by

the grave of these children, for the dwellers in Vanua Lava and Ambrym

that Thou wouldest cause the light of the Gospel to shine m their

hearts. Give unto Thy servants grace in their sight, that we may go

forth in peace, and return if it be Thy will in safety, to the honour

and glory of Thy Name, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

'O Almighty God, Father of Mercy, we cry unto Thee in our sorrow and

distress, most humbly confessing that we have most justly provoked Thy

wrath and heavy indignation.

'We know, O Lord, that this is a dispensation of mercy, a gift from

Thee, to be used, as all things may be used to Thy glory. Yet, O Lord,

suffer not our unworthiness to hinder Thy work of mercy!

'O Lord, look down from heaven, visit with Thy tender compassion Thy

children lying under Thy hand in grievous sufferings of body. Restore

them if it be Thy good pleasure to health and strength, or if it be Thy

good will to take them out of this world, receive them to Thy tender

mercies for His blessed sake who died for all men, Thy Son our Lord.

'Lord's Prayer. Grace.'

This was written down for use, in great haste, in the same spirit that

breathes through the account of the next death: the entry dated on

Coleridge Patteson's thirty-sixth birthday, April 1, 1863, which must

be transcribed, though much of the detail of this time of trial has been

omitted.

'Sosaman died at 9 A.M. this day--a dear lad, one of the Banks

Islanders, about ten or twelve years old. As usual I was kneeling by

him, closing his eyes in death. I can see his poor mother's face now!

What will she say to me? she who knows not the Christian's life in

death! Yet to him, the poor unbaptized child, what is it to him? What

a revelation! Yes, the names he heard at our lips were names of real

things and real persons! There is another world! There is a God, a

Father, a Lord Jesus Christ, a Spirit of holiness, a Love and Glory. So

let us leave him, O Father, in Thy hands, who knowest him who knew not

Thee on earth. Thy mercies never fail. Thou hast created all things, and

for Thy pleasure they are and were created.

'I washed him, and laid him out as usual in a linen sheet. How white it

looked! So much more simple and touching than the coffin--the form just

discernible as it lay where five had lain before; and then I knelt down

in our little chapel; and, I thank God, I could still bless and praise

Him in my heart!

'How is it that I don't pray more? I pray in one sense less than

usual--am not so long on my knees. I hope it is that I am so worn out,

and so very, very much occupied in tending the sick and dying, but I am

not sure.

'Anyhow I am sure that I am learning at terrible cost lessons which, it

may be, God would have taught me more gently if I had ears to hear. I

have not in all things depended upon Him, and perpetually sought help

from Him.

'Oh that my unworthiness may not hinder His work of mercy!

'If I live, the retrospect of this most solemn time will, I hope,

be very useful. I wonder if I ever went through such acute mental

suffering, and yet, mind! I feel perfectly hardened at times--quite

devoid of sensibility.'

He said in another letter that he felt that if he relaxed his

self-command for one moment he should entirely break down. To him

writing to his beloved home was what speaking, nay, almost thinking,

would be in another man; it gave an outlet to his feeling, and security

of sympathy. There was something in his spiritual nature that gave him

the faculty of realising the Communion of Saints in its fullest sense,

both with those on earth and in Paradise; and, above all, with his

Heavenly Father, so that he seems as complete an example as ever lived

of the reality of that privilege, in which too often we only express our

belief.

Sosaman's was the last death. On a fragment of pink paper, bearing the

date of the next day, it is declared that an alleviation in the worst

symptoms had taken place, and that the faces and eyes were less haggard.

'Oh! if it be God's will to grant us now a great deliverance, all glory

be to Him!'

The deliverance was granted. The next mail brought tidings of

gladness:--

'St. Andrew's: April 17, 1863.

'My dearest Sisters,--You know the calm yet weary feeling that succeeds

to the period of intense anxiety and constant watchfulness. Six dear

children are taken from us, as you know already. Some twenty-one others

have been very ill, nigh unto death. Two or three are still weak, but

doing well.

'All the rest are convalescent. Oh! I look at them, to see the loving

bright smile again on their poor wan faces. I don't mind breaking

down now; yet I have experienced no decided reaction; only I am very

indolent, like one who, for six weeks, has not had his usual allowance

of sleep. What abundant cause we have for thankfulness! All the many

hours that I spent in that atmosphere, and yet not a whit the worse for

it. What a sight it was! What scenes of suffering! There seemed to be no

end to it; and yet there was always strength for the immediate work in

hand. Tending twenty-four sick, after hurrying back from burying two

dear lads in one grave, or with a body lying in its white sheet in the

chapel; and once, after a breathless watch of two hours, while they all

slept the sleep of opium, for we dared almost anything to obtain some

rest, stealing at dead of night across the room to the figure wrapped so

strangely in its blanket, and finding it cold and stiff, while one dying

lay close by. It has been a solemn time indeed. And now the brightness

seems to be coming back.

'I have not yet ceased to think of the probable consequences; but,

speaking somewhat hastily, I do not think that this will much retard the

work. I may have to use some extra caution in some places--e.g., one of

the two first lads brought from Ambrym is dead: one lad, the only one

ever brought from the middle of Whitsuntide Island, is dead; I must be

careful there. The other four came from Mota, Matlavo, Vanua Lava (W.

side), and Guadalcanar; for the six who died came from six islands.

'One dear lad, Edmund Quintal, sixteen or seventeen years old, was for a

while in a critical state. Fisher Young, a little older, was very unwell

for three or four days. They came from Norfolk Island.

'The last six weeks have been very unhealthy. We had an unusually hot

dry summer--quite a drought; the wells, for example, were never so

tried. There was also an unusual continuance of north-east winds--our

sultry close wind. And when the dry weather broke up, the rain and damp

weather continued for many days. Great sickness prevailed in Auckland

and the country generally.

'The Norfolk Islanders, now four in number--Edwin Nobbs, Gilbert

Christian, Fisher Young, and Edmund Quintal--have behaved excellently.

Oh, how different I was at their age! It is pleasant, indeed, to see

them so very much improved; they are so industrious, so punctual, so

conscientious. The fact seems to be that they wanted just what I do hope

the routine of our life has supplied--careful supervision, advice, and,

when needed, reproof. They had never had any training at all.

'But there was something better--religious feeling--to work on! and the

life here has, by God's blessing, developed the good in them. I am very

hopeful about then now. Not, mind! that any one of them has a notion

of teaching, but they are acquiring habits which will enable them to be

good examples in all points of moral conduct to those of the Melanesians

who are not already like B----, &c. The head work will come by-and-by, I

dare say.

'April 22.--The storm seems to have passed, though one or two are still

very weak. But there are no active symptoms of disease. How mercifully

God has dealt with us! I have been very seedy for a few days, and am so

still. In spite of two teeth taken out a fortnight ago, my whole jaw has

been paining me much, heavy cold, and I can't get good sleep by reason

of the pain, and I want sleep much. I think I must go to the dentist

again. You see we hope to sail in ten days or so, and I want to be well.

'We have just washed and scrubbed the hall thoroughly, and once again it

ceases to be our hospital. That looks bright, does not it? You must let

all friends know about us, for I shall not be able to write to many, and

perhaps I shall not have time to write at all. In the midst of all

this, I have so much work about the management of the Mission farm and

property, and the St. John's College estate, and educational prospects.'

The 'Southern Cross' was at sea again on May 2, and approved herself

entirely to her owners' satisfaction.

Moreover, another clergyman had come on board for a trial trip, the

Rev. Robert Codrington, a Fellow of Wadham, Oxford, who brought the

University culture which was no small personal pleasure to Bishop

Patteson in the companion of his labours. So that the staff consisted of

Mr. Pritt, Mr. Kerr, Mr. Codrington, Mr. Palmer and Mr. Atkin, besides

Mr. Tilly, whose management of the vessel left the Bishop free from

cares whenever his knowledge of the coast was not needed. Some of the

results of his leisure on the outward voyage here appear:--

'I am glad I have read the accounts which Bishop Mackenzie's sister sent

me. I know more about it now. Work and anxiety and necessity for action

all came upon them so rapidly, that there was but little time for

forming deliberate plans. I can well realise the finding oneself

surrounded with a hundred poor creatures, diseased and hungered, the

multitude of questions how to feed, lodge, and clothe them. How far

it is right to sanction their mode of life, &c. One thing I am glad to

notice, that the Bishop abstained from all attempts to convey religious

instruction, because he was not sufficiently acquainted with the

language to know what ideas he might or might not be suggesting.

That was wise, and yet how unlike many hot-headed men, who rush with

unintentional irreverence into very dangerous experiments.

'I confess, as you know, that there seems to me far too cumbrous and

expensive and talkative a method employed in England, for raising

supplies for that Mission and Columbia, Honolulu, &c. I never think

of all that fuss of the four Universities, and all the meetings and

speeches, without some shame. But united action will come in the

train of real synodical action; and if I understand aright, the last

Convocation of Canterbury accepted all that we are trying for, taking

the right view in the question of Provinces, Metropolitans, position of

Colonial Churches, joint action of the Church at large, &c. Extension of

Episcopate in England. Oh, thanks be to God for it all. What a work for

this branch of the Catholic Church! How can people sit quiet, not give

their all!

'I like very much Vaughan's work on the Epistle to the Romans. That

is the book to teach young students how to read their Greek Testament.

Accurate scholarship, no private notions imported into the Greek text.

I should like to hear Mr. Keble speak about the law underlying the

superstitions of heathenism, the way to deal with the perversions of

truth, &c. Somehow I get to marvel at and love that first book of Hooker

more and more. It is wonderful. It goes to the bottom of the matter; and

then at times it gives one to see something of the Divine wisdom of the

Bible as one never saw it before.

'But I fear that I seek too much after a knowledge and understanding of

principles of action which are attainable by a scholar and man of real

reasoning power, but which I am not able to make of practical use,

having neither the brains nor the goodness. This is what I really mean.

'May 20th.--Any really good book on the New Testament, especially

dealing critically with the Greek text, I certainly wish to have. I

feel that the great neglect of us clergy is the neglect of the continual

study most critically and closely of the grammatical meaning of the

Hebrew and Greek texts. Oh! that in old days I had made myself a good

scholar! Oh! that I did really know Hebrew and Greek well! What a

blessing and delight it would be now! I fear that I shall never be

a good Hebrew scholar, I can't make time for it; but a decent Greek

scholar I hope to be. I work away, but alas I for want of time, only by

fits and starts, at grammars, and such a book as Vaughan's "Epistle to

the Romans," an excellent specimen of the way to give legitimate help to

the student. Trench's books I delight in. The Revision by Five Clergymen

is an assistance. There was a review in the Quarterly the other day on

the Greek Testament, very nearly an excellent one. The ordinary use of

folio commentaries I don't wish to depreciate, but I think it far less

valuable than the diligent study for oneself with the best grammatical

aids of the original text. I always assume an acquaintance with the

true mind and spirit of the Church of England as a substratum of

interpretation. I like Westcott's book on the "Introduction to the Study

of the Gospels."

'Oh! why, when I sat evening after evening with our dear Father, did

I not ask him on all these points much more than I did? He did talk

of such things! But I suppose it is partly the impulse given to such

studies by the tendency of present religious thought. Yet ought it not

to have been always put forward at Eton and Oxford that the close study

of the text of the Bible is the first duty of a Christian scholar.

I never really thought of it till I came out here, and then other

occupations crowded upon me, and so it was too late to make myself a

scholar. Alas!

'Now I really think nothing is so great a relaxation tome as a good book

by Trench, or Vaughan, or Ellicott, or Dr. Pusey, and I do enjoy it.

Not that I can keep up my attention for very long so as to make it

profitable, but even then it is delightful, only I must go over it

again, and so it is perhaps time wasted.

'But I greatly miss the intimate friend with whom to fix what I read by

conversation and communication of mutual difficulties in understanding

passages. I don't often forget points on which the Judge and I have had

a talk, but what I read by myself I read too quickly, and forget. I want

to fix it by subsequent discussion and enquiry with a competent friend.

If I have intelligent young men to read with, that will almost do,

it will easily help me to remember what I have read. It won't be

suggestive, like the Judge's conversation; yet if one tries to teach

conscientiously one does learn a great deal. I am puzzled as to books

for my Norfolk Islanders. I should like much the "Conversations on the

Catechism." Are they published separately? Shall I ask Miss Yonge to

give me a copy? And the "Plain Commentary" would be useful too, if

(which I doubt) it is plain enough.'

'"Southern Cross:" May 9, 1863.

'My dear Joan,--You ask me about qualifications which a man had better

possess for this Mission, so perhaps I had better ask you to enquire of

cousin Derwent Coleridge and of Ernest Hawkins for letters written to

them some six months ago in which (if I remember rightly) I succeeded

as well as I am likely to do now in describing the class of men I should

like some day to have. I dare say they have not kept the letters, I

forgot that, because although they took me some little time to write,

they may have chucked them away naturally enough. Still if they have

them and can find them, it may be worth while for you to keep a copy by

you to show to any person who wishes for information.

'It is not necessary at all that a man should have a taste for languages

or a faculty of acquiring them. What I want now is not a linguist, but a

well-trained school-master of black boys and men, who will also put his

hand to any kind of work--a kindly, gentle, cheerful, earnest fellow,

who will make light of all little inconveniences, such as necessarily

attend sea life, &c., who is so much of a gentleman that he can afford

to do any kind of work without being haunted by the silly thought that

it "is beneath him," "not his business." That is the fellow for me. He

would have to learn one language, the language of the particular class

given over to him, and I think that a person of any moderate ability

might soon do this with our teaching. If I could get him to take an

interest in the general science of language and to go into philological

points, of course his work would be lighter, and he would have soon the

advantage of knowing dialects cognate to that which he must know. But

that is not necessary.

'The real thing is to train a certain number of lads in habits of

attention, punctuality, tidiness, &c., to teach them also upon a plan,

which I should show him, to read and write. The religious instruction I

should take, and the closer investigation of the language too, unless he

showed a capacity for going into the nicer points of structure, &c.

'But somehow a cut and dried teaching machine of a man, however

methodical, and good, and conscientious, won't do. There must be a

vivacity, an activity of mind, a brightness about the man, so that a

lesson shall never be mere drudgery; in short, there must be a real love

in the heart for the scholars, that is the qualification.

'One man and one only I hope to have some day who ought to be able to

learn scraps at least of many languages, but he will have a different

work to do. No work can be considered to be satisfactorily carried on

while it depends on the life of any one man. Someone to take my place

will come, I hope, some day. He would have to go round the islands with

me, and acquire a knowledge of the whole field of work--the wading and

swimming, the mode of dealing with fellows on a first meeting, &c.; he

will not only have one class to look after, but he must learn the same

kind of lesson that I learnt under the Primate. Where to get such a

man, I'm sure I don't know. He must be of standing and ability to be

acceptable to the others should I die, &c., &c.

'So we need not speculate about him, and the truth is, I am not in any

hurry to get men from home. We are educating ourselves lads here who

will very likely learn to do this kind of work fairly well. Mr. Palmer

will, I hope, be ordained at Christmas. Young Atkin will be useful some

day. By-and-by if I can get one or two really first-rate men, it will

indeed be a great thing. But who knows anything of me in England? I

don't expect a really able man to come out to work with me. They will go

to other parts of the world kept more before the notice of the public by

committees and meetings and speeches, &c.; and indeed I am very thankful

for it. I am not old nor wise enough to be at the head of a party of

really able men. I must be more fit to lead before I can ask men to

follow.

'Of course I know that the work, if I chose to speak out, is second to

none in interest and importance, and that very little comparatively is

known about it in England. But it is evidently far better that it should

go quietly on without attracting much notice, and that we all should

remain unknown at all events at present. By-and-by, when by God's

blessing things are more ripe for definite departments of work, and

men can have distinct duties at once assigned to them, and our mode of

carrying on the Mission has been fairly tested, then it will be high

time to think about first-rate men.

'And, presumptuous and strange as it may seem for me to say it, a man

confessedly second-rate, unfit to hold a position with the best stamp of

English clergymen, I had rather not have. I can get the material cheaper

and made to my own hand out here.

'Some men are dull though good, others can't get away from their book

life and the proprieties, others are donnish, others are fine gentlemen,

others are weak in health, most have preconceived and, many, mistaken

views about heathenism, and the way to deal with it; some would come out

with the notion that England and English clergymen were born to set the

colonies right.

'How few would say, "There's a young man for the Bishop, only a

second-class man, no scholar, not remarkable in any way, but he has

learnt his work in a good school, and will go out to him with the

purpose of seeing how he carries on the work, and learning from him." I

don't expect men worth anything to say this. Of course I don't; and

yet you know, Joan, I can't take them on any other terms. No, I prefer

taking promising lads here, and training them up, not with any pledge

that I will employ them in the Mission, but with the promise of giving

them every chance of becoming qualified for it.'

The voyage was much shorter than had been intended, and its history is

best summed up here:--

'"Southern Cross," Kohimarama: Aug. 6, 1863.

'My dear Cousin,--This date, from this place, will surprise you. We

returned yesterday, after a short voyage of only three months. I had

arranged my plans for a long voyage, hoping to revisit all our known

islands, and that more than once. We sailed to Norfolk Island, thence

at once to Mota. I spent two days there, and left the Rev. L. Pritt in

charge of the station; Mr. Palmer being with him and the four Norfolk

Islanders, and several old scholars.

'I spent a fortnight in the Banks Archipelago, returning some scholars,

and taking away others from divers islands; and then went back to Mota,

bringing some sixteen or seventeen lads to the central school. I found

them all pretty well; the whole island at peace, people moving about

everywhere unarmed, and a large school being gathered together.

'I went off again to the south (the New Hebrides group), returning

scholars who had been in New Zealand, purchasing yams for axes and iron,

&c., to supply the large number of scholars at Mota. The season had been

unfavourable, and the crop of yams in some islands had almost failed.

However, in another fortnight I was again at Mota with some six or seven

tons of yams. I found things lamentably changed. A great mortality

was going on, dysentery and great prostration of strength from severe

influenza.

'But of those not actually boarding at the station, the state was very

sad indeed. About twenty-five adults were dead already, several of them

regular attendants at school, of whom we were very hopeful.

'I spent two days and a half in going about the island, the wet

incessant, the ground steaming and reeking with vegetable exhalations.

During those days twenty-seven adults died, fifty-two in all, and many,

many more were dying, emaciated, coughing, fainting; no constitutional

vigour of body, nor any mutton broth, or beef tea, or jellies, or

chickens, or wine, &c. Mr. Pritt did what he could, and more than

I thought could have been done; but what could be done? How could

nourishing food be supplied to dozens of invalids living miles off,

refusing to obey directions in a country which supplies no food to rally

the strength of persons in illness?

'I decided to remove the whole party at once, explaining to the people

that we were not afraid to share with them the risk of dying, but that

if Mr. Pritt and the others died, there were no teachers left. I felt

that our Banks Island scholars must be removed, and that at once lest

they should die. I could not send the vessel to the Solomon Islands

without me, for Mr. Tilly was completely laid up and unable to move from

rheumatic gout, and no one else on board knows those languages.

'I could not leave the party at Mota in the sickness, and I could not

well send the vessel to Port Patteson for a time, for the danger was

imminent. So I took them all away, in all thirty-nine.

'But now the vessel was full, more than sixty on board, and I had

reckoned upon an empty vessel in the hot Santa Cruz and Solomon Island

latitudes. Moreover, the weather was extraordinarily unfavourable--damp,

foul winds, squalls, calms, unhealthy weather. Mr. Tilly was being

greatly pulled down, and everything seemed to point out that the voyage

ought not to be long. I made my mind up, took back the Solomon Island

scholars; and, with heavy sea and baffling winds and one short gale,

sailed back to New Zealand.

'How mysteriously our plans are overruled for good! I came back to hear

of the war; and to learn to be thankful for my small, very young and

very manageable party. Thirty-three Banks Islanders, the baptized party

and select lads from their islands, one New Caledonian, four Ysabel

lads, constitute this summer's Melanesian school.

'Don't be disappointed; I was at first, but I had the comfort of having

really no alternative. I had, indeed, a great desire to make a thorough

visitation of Leper's Island, and Santa Cruz especially; but the wind,

usually so fair, was dead against me, we had, so to speak, no trade

winds, and I had to give it up. It was certainly my duty to get to the

south with my invalids as soon as I could, and alter my plans, which,

you know, always are made with a view to divers modifications being

rendered necessary.

'Training the baptized scholars, and putting into shape such knowledge

as I have of Melanesian tongues, that made a good summer programme, as

I was obliged to content myself with a small party gathered from but few

islands. Concentration v. diffusion I soon began to think a very good

thing.

'Well, so it is, and now I see great reason to be thankful. Why do we

not always give thanks whether we see the reason or not?

'The vessel behaves admirably. I have written to Jem at length, and he

must be applied to for my account of her. Pray tell Mr. Keble all this.

I have a most valuable letter from Dr. Moberly, a great delight and

honour to me. It is very kind of him to write; and his view of Church

matters is really invaluable, no papers can give that which his letter

gives, and only he and a very few others could give an opinion which I

so greatly value. He speaks hopefully of Church matters in general, and

there are great reasons surely for thankfulness and hope.

'Yet men such as he see far and wide, and to their great hearts no very

violent storms are caused by such things as sorely trouble others. He

sees the presumption and weakness, the vain transitory character of that

phase of modern thought which Bishop Colenso represents, and confidently

expects its speedy disappearance. But it does try the earnest, while it

makes shipwreck of the frivolous, and exercises the faith and humility

of all. Even a very poor scholar can see that his reasoning is most

inconclusive, and his reading superficial and inferences illogical.

'God bless you, my dear Cousin.

'Your affectionate Cousin,

'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'

Perhaps this is the fittest place to give Mr. Tilly's description of the

Bishop in his voyages:--

'My acquaintance with the late Bishop Patteson began at Port Patteson,

in the Banks Islands, in 1861. He went with us in H.M.S. "Cordelia" to

the Solomon Islands, and after being together some two months we again

left him at Port Patteson on our way back to Auckland. During the time

he was on board the "Cordelia" it was arranged that I was to sail the

new vessel (the present "Southern Cross"), then about to be built by the

Messrs. Wigram, and the size, internal arrangements, &c. were told me

by him. He did not trouble me with much detail, referring me almost

altogether to Bishop Selwyn--and gave no written directions; the little

he said I carefully noted, observing that he spoke as with a thorough

knowledge of the subject (so far as I could be a judge) as to sea-going

qualities, capacity, &c., and to the best of my recollection, I found

that while the vessel was building these few directions were the main

ones to be kept in view. We entered Auckland harbour (from England)

early on the morning of February 28, 1863, and hove to off the North

Head, to wait for the Bishop coming off from Kohimarama before going up

the harbour. It had been blowing hard outside the night before from the

N.E., and there was still much wind, and some sea, even in the harbour.

I was much struck by his appearance and manner. Having to launch his

boat through a surf at Kohimarama beach, he had only on a shirt and

trousers, and was of course drenched. He stepped on board more like

a sailor than a clergyman, and almost immediately made one or two

sailor-like remarks about the vessel, as if he understood her qualities

as soon as he felt her in motion; and he was quite right in what he

said.

'Before the building of the present vessel he had (I am told) navigated

at different times to and from the islands; of his capacity in this

respect, therefore, others who knew him there can speak. During the time

I remained in the "Southern Cross," he never in any way, to the best

of my recollection, interfered in the navigation or management of the

vessel; but I came to know--almost at once--that his general planning of

a voyage, knowledge of local courses and distances, the method by which

it could be done most quickly and advantageously, and the time required

to do it in, were thorough; and, in fact, I suppose, that almost without

knowing it, in all this I was his pupil, and to the last felt the

comfort of his advice or assistance, as, e.g., when looking out together

from aloft he has seen shoal water more quickly than myself, or has

decided whether certain doubtful appearances ahead were or were not

sufficient to make us alter our course, &c.; and always speaking as no

one who was what sailors call a landsman could have done. There was, of

course, always a great deal of boat work, much of it to be done with a

loaded boat in a seaway, requiring practical knowledge of such matters,

and I do not remember any accidents, such as staving a boat on a reef,

swamping, &c. in all those years; and he invariably brought the boat

out when it was easy for the vessel to pick her up, a matter not

sufficiently understood by many people. This was where Mr. Atkin's

usefulness was conspicuous. Mr. Atkin was a fearless boatman, and the

knowledge of boating he gained with us at sea was well supplemented when

in Auckland, where he had a boat of his own, which he managed in the

most thorough manner, Auckland being at times a rough place for boating.

He (Mr. Atkin) pulled a good and strong oar, and understood well how to

manage a boat under sail, much better in fact than many sailors (who are

not always distinguished in that respect). His energy, and the amount

of work he did himself were remarkable; his manner was quiet and

undemonstrative. He took all charge--it may in a manner be said--of

the boys on board the vessel, regulated everything concerning meals,

sleeping arrangements, &c., how much food had to be bought for them at

the different islands, what "trade" (i.e. hatchets, beads, &c.) it was

necessary to get before starting on a voyage, calculated how long our

supply of water would last, and in fact did so much on board as left the

master of the vessel little to do but navigate. With regard to the

loss the Mission has sustained in Mr. Atkin, speaking from my personal

knowledge of his invaluable services on a voyage, I can safely say

there is no one here now fitted to take his place. He had always capital

health at sea, and was rarely sea-sick, almost the only one of the party

who did not suffer in that way. And his loss will be the more felt now,

as those who used to help in the boat are now otherwise employed as

teachers, &c.; and as Norfolk Island is a bad place to learn boating,

there is great need of some one to take his place, for a good boat's

crew is a necessity in this work as may be readily understood when the

boat is away sometimes for the greater part of the day, pulling and

sailing from place to place. At those places where the Bishop landed

alone, Mr. Atkin gradually acquired the experience which made him so fit

to look after the safety of the boat and crew. In this manner he, next

to the Bishop, became best known to the natives throughout the islands,

and was always looked for; in fact, at many places they two were perhaps

only recognised or remembered.

'Bishop Patteson was hardly what could be called a good sailor in

one sense of the word; rough weather did not suit him, and although I

believe seldom if ever actually sea-sick, he was now and then obliged to

lie down the greater part of the day, or during bad weather. He used to

read and write a great deal on board, and liked to take brisk walks

up and down the deck, talking to whoever happened to be there. He was

orderly and methodical on board, liked to see things in their places,

and was most simple in all his habits. He always brought a good stock of

books on board (which we all made use of), but very few clothes.

'The living on board was most simple, much the same as the crew,

those in the cabin waiting on themselves (carrying no steward), until

gradually boys used to volunteer to do the washing up, &c. School with

all the boys was kept up when practicable; but the Bishop was always

sitting about among them on the deck, talking to one and another, and

having classes with him in the cabin. There were regular morning

and evening native and English prayers. The sermons on Sundays

were specially adapted for the sailors, and listened to with marked

attention, as indeed they well might be, being so earnest, simple, and

suitable.

'Speaking for myself, I used to look forward to the voyage as the time

when I should have the privilege of being much with him for some months.

While on shore at Kohimarama I saw but comparatively little of him,

except at meals; but during the voyage I saw of course a great deal of

him, and learned much from him--learned to admire his unselfishness

and simplicity of mode of life, and to respect his earnestness and

abilities. His conversation on any subject was free and full; and those

on the few nights when quietly at anchor they could be enjoyed more,

will be long remembered. Of his manner to Melanesians, others will, no

doubt, say enough, but I may be excused for mentioning one scene that

very much struck me, and of which I am now the only (white) one left

who was present at it. We were paying a visit for the first time to an

island, and--the vessel being safe in the offing--the Bishop asked me if

I would go with them as he sometimes did on similar occasions. We pulled

in to a small inner islet among a group, where a number of (say 200)

natives were collected on the beach. Seeing they looked as if friendly,

he waded on shore without hesitation and joined them; the reception was

friendly, and after a time he walked with them along the beach, we in

the boat keeping near. After a while we took him into the boat again,

and lay off the beach a few yards to be clear of the throng, and be able

to get at the things he wanted to give them, they coming about the boat

in canoes; and this is the fact I wished to notice--viz., the look on

his face while the intercourse with them lasted. I was so struck with

it, quite involuntarily, for I had no idea of watching for anything of

the sort; but it was one of such extreme gentleness, and of yearning

towards them. I never saw that look on his face again, I suppose because

no similar scene ever occurred again when I happened to be with him. It

was enough in itself to evoke sympathy; and as we pulled away, though

the channel was narrow and winding, yet, as the water was deep, we

discussed the possibility of the schooner being brought in there at some

future time. I am quite aware of my inability to do justice to that side

of the Bishop's character, of which, owing to the position in which I

stood to him as master of the Mission vessel, I have been asked to say

a few words. There are others who know far better than myself what his

peculiar qualifications were. His conduct to me throughout the time

was marked by an unvarying confidence of manner and kindliness in our

everyday intercourse, until, gradually, I came to think I understood

the way in which he wished things done, and acted in his absence with

an assurance of doing his wishes, so far as I could, which I never

had attained to before with anyone else, and never shall again. And,

speaking still of my own experience, I can safely say the love we grew

to feel for him would draw such services from us (if such were needed)

as no fear of anyone's reproof or displeasure ever could do. And perhaps

this was the greatest privilege, or lesson, derived from our intercourse

with him, that "Love casteth out fear!"

'Tiros. CAPEL TILLY.

'Auckland: October 28, 1872.'

This letter to Mr. Derwent Coleridge follows up the subject of the

requisites for missionary work:--

'"Southern Cross," Kohimarama: August 8, 1863.

'My dear Cousin,--Thank you for a very kind letter which I found here on

my return from a short three months' voyage in Melanesia. You will, I am

sure, give me any help that you can, and a young man trained under your

eye would be surely of great use in this work. I must confess that I

distrust greatly the method adopted still in some places of sending out

men as catechists and missionaries, simply because they appear to be

zealous and anxious to engage in missionary work. A very few men, well

educated, who will really try to understand what heathenism is, and will

seek, by God's blessing, to work honestly without prejudice and without

an indiscriminating admiration for all their own national tastes

and modes of thought--a few such men, agreeing well together and

co-operating heartily, will probably be enabled to lay foundations for

an enduring work. I do not at all wish to apply hastily for men--for any

kind of men--to fill up posts that I shall indeed be thankful to occupy

with the right sort of men. I much prefer waiting till it may please

God to put it into the head of some two or three more men to join the

Mission--years hence it may be. We need only a few; I don't suppose that

ten years hence I should (if alive) ever wish to have more than six or

eight clergy; because their work will be the training of young natives

to be themselves teachers, and, I pray God, missionaries in due time. I

am so glad that you quite feel my wants, and sympathise with me. It is

difficult to give reasons--intelligible to you all at a distance--for

everything that I may say and do, because the circumstances of this

Mission are so very peculiar. But you know that I have always the

Primate to consult with as to principles; and I must, for want of a

better course, judge for myself as to the mode of working them out in

detail.

'Two plans are open for obtaining a supply of young men. First, I may

receive some few ready-trained men, who nevertheless will have to

learn the particular lessons that only can be taught here on the spot.

Secondly, I may have youths of (say) sixteen to eighteen years of age,

sent out from such a school as Stephen Hawtrey's for example, who will

come with a good general knowledge of ordinary things, and receive a

special training from myself. I think, too, that New Zealand will now

and then supply an earnest, active-minded young fellow--who will be a

Greek or Latin scholar, yet may find a useful niche in which he may

be placed. At present I have means only to maintain one or two such

persons, and this because I am able to use the money my dear Father

left me for this purpose. Indeed, I have no other use for it. The money

received on public account would not keep the Mission in its present

state, and the expenditure ought to be increased by maintaining

more scholars and teachers. I don't forget what you say about the

philological part of my business. My difficulty is this, mainly: that it

is next to impossible to secure a few hours of continuous leisure. You

can have no idea of the amount of detail that I must attend to: seeing

everything almost, and having moreover not a few New Zealand matters

to employ my time, besides my Melanesian work. I have, I suppose, a

considerable amount of knowledge of Melanesian tongues, unknown by name

to anyone else perhaps; I quite feel that this ought not to die with

me, if anything should suddenly happen to me. I hoped this summer to

put together something; but now there is this Maori war, and an utterly

unsettled state of things. I may have to leave New Zealand with my

Melanesians almost any day. But I will do what I can, and as soon as I

can. Again: I find it so hard to put on paper what I know. I could talk

to a philologist, and I fancy that I could tell him much that would

interest him; but I never wrote anything beyond a report in my life, and

it is labour and grief to me to write them--I can't get on as a scribe

at all. Then, for two or three years I have not been able to visit some

islands whose language I know just enough of to see that they supply

a valuable link in the great Polynesian chain. One might almost get

together all the disjecta membra and reconstruct the original Polynesian

tongue. But chiefly, of course, my information about Melanesia may be

interesting. I have begun by getting together numerals in forty quite

unknown dialects. I will give, at all events, short skeleton grammars

too of some. But we have no time. Why, I have from five hundred to

two thousand or more carefully ascertained words in each of several

dialects, and of course these ought to be in the hands of you all

at home. I know that, and have known it for years; but how to do it,

without neglecting the daily necessary work?

'Again: the real genius of the language, whatever it may be, is learned

when I can write down what I overhear boys saying when they are talking

with perfect freedom, and therefore idiomatically, about sharks,

cocoa-nuts, yams, &c. All translations must fail to represent a language

adequately, and most of all the translation into a heathen language of

religious expressions. They have not the ideas, and the language cannot

be fairly seen in the early attempts to make it do an unaccustomed work.

'I remember more of you and my Aunt than you suppose. Even without the

photograph (which I am very glad to have--thank you for it), I could

have found you and Aunt out in a crowd. I can't say that I remember my

own generation so well.

'Thank you again for writing so kindly.

'Always, my dear Cousin,

'Affectionately yours,

'J. C. PATTESON, Missionary Bishop.'

The next mail carried the reply to Johanna's sympathy with the troubles

of the time of sickness in the early part of the year.

'August 28, 1863.

'My dear Joan,--Very full of comfort to have all your kind loving

thoughts and words about our sickness. I know you thought and talked

much about it, and indeed it was a very heavy visitation viewed in one

way, though in another (and I really can't analyze the reason why) there

was not only peace and calmness, but eyen happiness. I suppose one

may be quite sure one is receiving mercies, and be thankful for them,

although one is all the time like a man in a dream. I can hardly think

of it all as real. But I am sure that God was very, very merciful to us.

There was no difficulty anywhere about the making known the death of the

lads to their relatives. I did not quite like the manner of the people

at Guadalcanar, from which island poor Porasi came; and I could not get

at the exact place from which Taman came, though I landed on the same

island north and south of the beach from which I brought him.

'I do not at all think that any interruption of the work has been

occasioned by it. It was very unfortunate that I could not, last voyage,

make visits (and long ones too, as I had hoped) to many islands where

in the voyage before I had met with such remarkable tokens of good-will,

especially Leper's Island and Santa Cruz, but I think that if I can make

a regular good round next time, it may be all as well. I imagine that

in a great many islands it would now take a good deal to shake their

confidence in us. At the same time it was and is a matter of great

regret that I did not at once follow up the openings of the former year,

and by returning again to the New Hebrides and Solomon Islands (as in

the contemplated six months' voyage I intended to do), strengthen the

good feeling now existing. Moreover, many scholars who were here last

year would have come again had I revisited them and picked them up

again. But the Mota sickness, the weather, and Mr. Tilly's illness made

it more prudent to return by what is on the whole the shorter route,

i.e., to the west of New Caledonia.

'You should have been with me when, as I jumped on shore at Mota, I took

Paraskloi's father by the hand. That dear lad I baptized as he lay in

his shroud in the chapel, when the whole weight of the trial seemed,

as it were, by a sudden revelation to manifest itself, and thoroughly

overwhelmed and unnerved me. I got through the service with the tears

streaming down my cheeks, and my voice half choked. He was his father's

pride, some seventeen years old. A girl ready chosen for him as his

wife. "It is all well, Bishop, he died well. I know you did all you

could, it is all well." He trembled all over, and his face was wet with

tears; but he seemed strangely drawn to us, and if he survives this

present epidemic, his son's death may be to him the means in God's hands

of an eternal life. Most touching, is it not, this entire confidence?