CHAPTER XI. ST. BARNABAS COLLEGE, NORFOLK ISLAND. 1867--1869.

A new phase of Coleridge Patteson's life was beginning with the year

1867, when he was in full preparation for the last of his many changes

of home, namely, that to Norfolk Island, isolating him finally from

those who had become almost as near kindred to him, and devoting him

even more exclusively to his one great work. No doubt the separation

from ordinary society was a relief, and the freedom from calls to

irregular clerical duty at Auckland was an immense gain; but the lack

of the close intercourse with the inner circle of his friends was often

felt, and was enhanced by the lack of postal communication with Norfolk

Island, so that, instead of security of home tidings by every mail,

letters and parcels could only be transmitted by chance vessels touching

at that inaccessible island, where there was no harbour for even the

'Southern Cross' to lie.

But the welfare of the Mission, and the possible benefit to the

Pitcairners, outweighed everything. It is with some difficulty that the

subject of this latter people is approached. They have long been the

romance of all interested in Missionary effort, and precious has been

the belief that so innocent and pious a community existed on the face

of the earth. And it is quite true that when they are viewed as the

offspring of English mutineers and heathen Tahitians, trained by a

repentant old sailor, they are wonderful in many respects; and

their attractive manners and manifest piety are sure to strike their

occasional visitors, who have seldom stayed long enough to penetrate

below the surface.

But it has been their great disadvantage never to have had a much higher

standard of religion, morals, civilisation, or industry set before them,

than they had been able to evolve for themselves; and it is a law of

nature that what is not progressive must be retrograde. The gentle

Tahitian nature has entirely mastered the English turbulence, so that

there is genuine absence of violence, there is no dishonesty; and

drunkenness was then impossible; there is also a general habit of

religious observance, but not including self-restraint as a duty, while

the reaction of all the enthusiastic admiration expressed for this

interesting people has gendered a self-complacency that makes them the

harder to deal with. Parental authority seems to be entirely wanting

among them, the young people grow up unrestrained; and the standard of

morality and purity seems to be pretty much what it is in a neglected

English parish, but, as before said, without the drunkenness and

lawlessness, and with a universal custom of church-going, and a great

desire not to expose their fault to the eyes of strangers. The fertile

soil, to people of so few wants, and with no trade, prevents the

necessity of exertion, and the dolce far niente prevails universally.

The Government buildings have fallen into entire ruin, and the breed

of cattle has been allowed to become worthless for want of care. The

dwellings are uncleanly, and the people so undisciplined that only their

native gentleness would make their present self-government possible; and

it is a great problem how to deal with them.

The English party who were to take up their abode on Norfolk Island

consisted of the Bishop, the Rev. Mr. Palmer, who was there already,

Mr. Atkin, and Mr. Brooke. The Rev. R. Codrington was on his way from

England with Mr. Bice, a young student from St. Augustine's, Canterbury;

but Mr. and Mrs. Pritt had received an appointment at the Waikato,

and left the Mission. The next letter to myself tells something of the

plans:--

'January 29, 1867.

'My dear Cousin,--I enclose a note to Miss Mackenzie, thanking her for

her book about Mrs. Robertson. It does one good to read about such a

couple. I almost feel as if I should like to write a line to the good

man. There was the real genuine love for the people, the secret of

course of all missionary success, the consideration for them, the power

of sympathy, of seeing with the eyes of others, and putting oneself

into their position. Many a time have I thought: "Yes, that's all right,

that's the true spirit, that's the real thing."

'Oh that men could be trained to act in that way. It seems as if mere

common sense would enable societies and men to see that it must be so.

And yet how sadly we mismanage men, and misuse opportunities.

'Men should be made to understand that they cannot receive training for

this special Mission work except on the spot; at the institution the

aim should be to give them a thorough grounding in Greek and Latin, the

elements of Divinity, leaving out all talk about experiences, and all

that can minister to spiritual pride, and delude men into the idea that

the desire (as they suppose) to be missionaries implies that they are

one whit better than the baker and shoemaker next door.

'The German system is very different. The Moravians don't handle their

young candidates after this fashion.

'Now Mr. Robertson and his good wife refresh one by the reality and

simplicity of their life, the simple-mindedness, the absence of all cant

and formalism. I mean the formal observance of a certain set of views

about the Sabbath, about going to parties, about reading books, &c., the

formal utterance of an accepted phraseology.

'Would that there were hundreds such! Would that his and her example

might stir the hearts of many young people, women as well as men! Well,

I like all that helps me to know him and her in the book, and am much

obliged to Miss Mackenzie for it.

'We have had a trying month, unusually damp close weather, and influenza

has been prevalent. Many boys had it, one little fellow died. He was

very delirious at last, and as he lay day and night on my bed we had

often to hold him. But one night he was calm and sensible, and with

Henry Tagalana's help I obtained from him such a simple answer or two to

our questions that I felt justified in baptizing him. He was about ten

years old, I suppose one of our youngest.

'Last Saturday, at 12.45 A.M., he passed away into what light, and

peace, and knowledge, and calm rest in his Saviour's bosom! we humbly

trust. God be praised for all His mercies! It was touching, indeed, to

hear Henry speaking to his little friend. He spoke so as to make me feel

very hopeful about his work as a teacher being blessed, his whole heart

on his lips and in his voice and manner and expression of face.

'But, my dear Cousin, often I think that I need more than ever your

prayers that I may have the blessing for which we pray in our

Collect for the First Sunday after Epiphany: grace to use the present

opportunities aright. My time may be short; we are very few in number:

now the young English and Melanesian teachers ought to be completely

trained, that so, by God's blessing, the work may not come to nought.

Codrington's coming ought to be a great gain in this way. A right-minded

man of age and experience may well be regarded as invaluable indeed.

I so often feel that I am distracted by multitudinous occupations, and

can't think and act out my method of dealing with the elder ones, so

as to use them aright. So many things distract--social, domestic,

industrial matters and general superintendence, and my time is of course

always given to anyone who wants it.

'The change to Norfolk Island, too, brings many anxious thoughts and

cares, and the state of the people there will be an additional cause of

anxiety. I think that we shall move en masse in April or May, making two

or three trips in the schooner. Palmer has sixteen now with him there. I

shall perhaps leave ten more for the winter school and then go on to

the islands, and return (D.V.) in October, not to New Zealand, but to

Norfolk Island; though, as it is the year of the meeting of the General

Synod, i.e., February 1868, I shall have to be in New Zealand during

that summer. You shall have full information of all my and our

movements, as soon as I know myself precisely the plan.

'And now good-bye, my dear Cousin; and may God ever bless and keep you.

I think much of you, and of how you must miss dear Mr. Keble.

'Your affectionate Cousin,

'J. C. P.'

'Sunday, February 10, 1867.

'My dear old Fan,--No time to write at length. We are pretty well, but

coughs and colds abound, and I am a little anxious about one nice lad,

Lelenga, but he is not very seriously ill.

'I have of course occasional difficulties, as who has not?

Irregularities, not (D. Gr.) of very serious nature, yet calling for

reproof; a certain proportion of the boys, and a large proportion of the

girls careless, and of course, like boys and girls such as you know of

in Devonshire, not free from mischief.

'Indeed, it is a matter for great thankfulness that, as far as we know,

no immorality has taken place with fifteen young girls in the school.

We take of course all precautions, rooms are carefully locked at

night. Still really evil-minded young persons could doubtless get

into mischief, if they were determined to do so. Only to-day I spoke

severely, not on this point, but on account of some proof of want of

real modesty and purity of feeling. But how can I be surprised at that?

'All schoolmaster's work is anxious work. It is even more so than the

ordinary clergyman's work, because you are parent and schoolmaster at

once.

'You may suppose that as time approaches for Codrington and Bice to

arrive, and for our move to Norfolk Island, I am somewhat anxious, and

have very much to do. Indeed, the Norfolk Island people do sadly want

help.

'Your affectionate Brother.

'J. C. P.

'P. S.--You may tell your boys at night school, if you think it well,

that no Melanesian I ever had here would be so ungentlemanly as to throw

stones or make a row when a lady was present.'

'St. Matthias Day, 1867.

'My dearest Joan and Fan,--The beginning of the seventh year of my

Bishop's life! How quickly the time has gone, and a good deal seems to

have taken place, and yet (though some experience has been gained) but

little sense have I of real improvement in my own self, of "pressing

onwards," and daily struggles against faults. But for some persons it is

dangerous to talk of such things, and I am such a person. It would tend

to make me unreal, and my words would be unreal, and soon my thoughts

and life would become unreal too. I am conscious of very, very much that

is very wrong, and would astonish many of even those who know me best,

but I must use this consciousness, and not talk about it any more.

'I am in harness again for English work. How can I refuse? I am writing

now between two English services.

'Indeed, no adequate provision is made here for married clergymen with

families; £300 a year is starvation at present prices. Men can't live

on it; and who can work vigorously with the thought ever present to him,

"When I die, what of my wife and family?" What is to be done?

'I solve the difficulty in Melanesian work by saying, "Use Melanesians."

I tell people plainly, "I don't want white men."

'I sum it all up thus: They cost about ten times as much as the

Melanesian (literally), and but a very small proportion do the work as

well.

'I was amused at some things in your December letters. How things do

unintentionally get exaggerated! I went up into the tree-house by a very

good ladder of bamboos and supple-jacks, quite as easily as one goes

up the rigging of a ship, and my ten days at Bauro were spent among

a people whose language I know, and where my life was as safe and

everybody was as disposed to be friendly as if I had been in your house

at Weston. But, of course, it is all "missionary hardships and trials."

I don't mean that you talk in this way.

'Our first instalment of scholars with Messrs. Atkin and Brooke will go

off (D.V.) about March 21. Then my house is taken down; the boys who

now live in it having been sent off: and on the schooner's return about

April 15, another set of things, books, houses, &c. Probably a third

trip will be necessary, and then about May 5 or 6 I hope to go. It will

be somewhat trying at the end. But I bargain for all this, which of

course constitutes my hardest and most trying business. The special

Mission work, as most people would regard it, is as nothing in

comparison. Good-bye, and God bless you.

'Your loving Brother,

'J. C. P.'

On March 5 Mr. Codrington safely arrived, bringing with him Mr. Bice.

The boon to the Bishop was immense, both in relief from care and in the

companionship, for which he had henceforth to depend entirely on his own

staff. The machinery of the routine had been so well set in order by Mr.

Pritt that it could be continued without him; and though there was no

English woman to superintend the girls, it was hoped that Sarah Sarawia

had been prepared by Mrs. Pritt to be an efficient matron.

'Kohimarama: March 23, 1867.

'My dear Cousin,--Our last New Zealand season, for it may be our last,

draws near its close. On Monday, only two days hence, the "Southern

Cross" sails (weather permitting) with our first instalment. Mr. Palmer

has got his house up, and they must stow themselves away in it, three

whites and forty-five blacks, the best way they can. The vessel takes

besides 14,000 feet of timber, 6,000 shingles for roofing, and boxes of

books, &c., &c., without end.

'I hope she may be here again to take me and the remaining goods, live

and inanimate, in about eighteen or twenty days. I can't tell whether I

am more likely to spend my Easter in New Zealand or Norfolk Island.

'I see that in many ways the place is good for us. The first expense

is heavy. I have spent about £1,000 already, sinking some of my private

money in the fencing, building, &c., but very soon the cost of all

the commissariat, exclusive of the stores for the voyage, and a little

English food for the whites, will be provided. Palmer has abundance of

sweet potatoes which have been planted in ground prepared by our lads

since last October. The yam crop is coming on well: fish are always

abundant.

'I think that in twelve months' time we ought to provide ourselves with

almost everything in the island. The ship and the clergymen's stipends

and certain extras will always need subscriptions, but we ought at once

to feed ourselves, and soon to export wool, potatoes, corn (maize I

mean), &c.

'I never forget about the idea of a chapel. At present the Norfolk

Island Chapel will be only a wing of my house: which will consist of

two rooms for myself, a spare room for a sick lad or two, and a large

dormitory which, if need be, can be turned into a hospital, and the

other end a wing in the chapel, 42 x 18 feet, quite large enough for

eighty or more people. The entrance from without, and again a private

door from my sitting room. All is very simple in the plan. It seem

almost selfish having it thus as a part of my dwelling house; but it

will be such a comfort, so convenient for Confirmation and Baptism and

Holy Communion classes, and so nice for me. Some ladies in Melbourne

give a velvet altar cloth, Lady S. in Sydney gives all the white linen:

our Communion plate, you know, is very handsome. Some day Joan must send

me a solid block of Devonshire serpentine for my Font, such a one as

there is at Alfington, or Butterfield might now devise even a better.

'But I think, though I have not thought enough yet, that in the diocese

of Norfolk Island, and in the islands, the running stream of living

water and the Catechumens "going down" into it is the right mode of

administering the holy sacrament. The Lectern and the small Prayer-desk

are of sandal-wood from Erromango.

'It will be far more like a Church than anything the Pitcairners have

ever seen. Perhaps next Christmas--but much may take place before

then--I may ordain Palmer Priest, Atkin and Brooke Deacons, and there

may be a goodly attendance of Melanesian communicants and candidates for

baptism. If so, what a day of hope to look forward to! And then I think

I see the day of dear George Sarawia's Ordination drawing nigh, if God

grant him health and perseverance. He is, indeed, and so are others,

younger than he, all that I could desire.

'So, my dear Cousin, see what blessings I have, how small our trials

are. They may yet come, but it is now just twelve years, exactly twelve

years on Monday, since I saw my Father's and Sisters' faces, and how

little have those years been marked with sorrows. My lot is cast in a

good land indeed. I read and hear of others, such as that noble Central

African band, and I wonder how men can go through it all. It comes to

me as from a distance, not as to one who has experienced such things. We

know nothing of war, or famine, or deadly fever; and we seem now to have

a settled plan of work, one of the greatest comforts of all; but while

I write thus brightly I don't forget that a little thing (humanly

speaking) may cause great reverses, delays, and failures.

'I am very glad you understand my unwillingness to write, and still more

to print over much about our proceedings. I do speak pretty freely in

New Zealand and Australia, from whence I profess and mean to draw our

supplies.

'Accurate information is all very well, but to convey an idea of our

life and work is quite beyond my powers. Still, everything that helps

the ordinary men and women of England to look out into the world a bit,

and see that the Gospel is a power of God, is good.

'And now, good-bye, my dear Cousin. May God bless and keep you.

'Your affectionate Cousin,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

On Lady Day the Bishop wrote to his sisters:--

'This day, twelve years ago, I saw your faces for the last time; and so

I told Mary Atkin, my good young friend's only sister, as we stood on

the beach just now, watching the 'Southern Cross' carrying away her only

brother and some forty other people to Norfolk Island.

The first detachment is therefore gone; I hope that we, the rest, will

follow in about sixteen or eighteen days. I think back over these twelve

years. On the whole, how smoothly and easily they have passed with

me! Less of sorrow and anxiety than was crowded into one short year of

Bishop Mackenzie's life. I have been reading Mr. Rowley's book on the

University Mission to Central Africa, and am glad to have read it.

They were indeed fine gallant fellows, full of faith and courage and

endurance.

'As I write, some dozen boys are on the roof, knocking away the

shingles, i.e., the wooden tiles of roofing, a carpenter is taking down

all that needs some more skilled handiwork. In a week the house will all

be tied up in bundles of boarding, battens, about 14,000 or 15,000 feet

of timber in all. Yesterday I was with the Primate; I went up indeed

on Monday afternoon, as the "Southern Cross" sailed with thirty-one

Melanesians at 11 A.M., and I could get away. It was rather a sad day. I

was resigning trusts, and it made the departure from New Zealand appear

very real.

'April 1st.--My fortieth birthday. It brings solemn thoughts. Last night

I had to take the service at St. Paul's, and as I came back I thought

of many things, and principally of how very different I ought to be from

what I am.

'All are well here at Kohimarama. My house knocked down and arrangements

going on, the place leased to Mr. Atkin, Joe Atkin's father, my trusts

resigned, accounts almost made up, many letters written, business

matters arranged.'

In a few days more the last remnant of St. Andrew's was broken up; and

the first letter to the Bishop of New Zealand was written from Norfolk

Island before the close of the month:--

'St. Barnabas' Mission School: April 29, 1867.

My dear Primate,--We had a fair wind all the way, and having shortened

sail during all Friday so as not to reach Norfolk Island in the

night, made the lead at 5 A.M. on Saturday morning. But a sad casualty

occurred; we lost a poor fellow overboard, one of the seamen. He ought

not to have been lost, and I blame myself. He was under the davits of

the boat doing something, and the rope by which he was holding parted;

the life-buoy almost knocked him as he passed the quarter of the vessel,

and I, instead of jumping overboard, and shouting to the Melanesians to

do the same, rushed to the falls. The boat was on the spot where his cap

was floating within two and a half minutes of the time he fell into the

sea, but he was gone.

'Fisher in the hurry tore his nail by letting the falls run through his

hand too fast. I was binding it up, the boat making for the poor fellow

faster than any swimmer could have done. How it was that he did not lay

hold of the buoy, or sank so soon, I can't say; the great mistake was

not jumping overboard at once. This is a gloomy beginning, and made us

all feel very sad. He was not married and was a well-behaved man.

'It was blowing fresh on Saturday, but we anchored under Nepean Island,

and by hard work cleared the vessel by 5 P.M.; all worked hard, and all

the things were landed safely. Palmer, with the cart and boys, was on

the pier, and the things were carted and carried into the store as they

arrived. I came on shore about 5, found all well and hearty, the

people very friendly, nothing in their manner to indicate any change of

feeling.

'I walked up to our place. It is, indeed, a beautiful spot. Palmer has

worked with a will. I was surprised to see what was done. Some three and

a half acres of fine kumaras, maize, yams, growing well; a yam of ten

pounds weight, smooth and altogether Melanesian, just taken up, not

quite ripe, so the boys say they will grow much bigger. Abundant supply

of water, though the summer has been dry.

'Much of the timber has been carted up, more has been stacked at the top

of the hill. This was carried by the boys, and will be carted along the

pine avenue; a good deal is still near the pines, but properly stacked.

I see nothing anywhere thrown about, even here not a chip to be seen,

all buried or burnt, and the place quite neat though unfinished.

'1. House, on the plan of my old house just taken down by Gray, but much

larger.

'2. Kitchen of good size.

'3. Two raupo outhouses.

'4. Cow-shed.

'I find it quite assumed here that the question is settled about our

property here; but I have not thought it desirable to talk expressly

about it. They talk about school, doctor, and other public arrangements

as usual.

'It seems that it was on St. Barnabas Day that, after Holy Communion,

we walked up here last year and chose the site of the house. The people

have of their own accord taken to call the place St. Barnabas; and as

this suits the Eton feeling also, and you and others never liked St.

Andrew's, don't you think we may adopt the new name? Miss Yonge won't

mind, I am sure.

'I could not resist telling the people that you and Mrs. Selwyn might

come for a short time in September next to see them, and they are really

delighted; and so shall we be, I can tell you indeed....

'Your affectionate

'J. C. PATTESON.'

The time for the island voyage was fully come; and, after a very brief

stay in the new abode, the Bishop sailed again for Mota, where the old

house was found (May 8) in a very dilapidated condition; and vigorous

mending with branches was needed before a corner could be patched up

for him to sleep on his table during a pouring wet night, having first

supped on a cup of tea and a hot yam, the latter brought from the

club-house by one of his faithful adherents; after which an hour and

a half's reading of Lightfoot on the Epistle to the Galatians made him

forget every discomfort.

There had, however, been a renewal of fighting of late; and at a village

called Tasmate, a man named Natungoe had ten days previously been shot

in the breast with a poisoned arrow, and was beginning to show those

first deadly symptoms of tetanus. He had been a well-conducted fellow,

though he had hitherto shown indifference to the new teaching; and it

had not been in a private quarrel that he was wounded, but in a sudden

attack on his village by some enemies, when a feast was going on.

On that first evening when the Bishop went to see him it was plain that

far more of the recent instruction had taken root in him than had been

supposed. 'He showed himself thoroughly ready to listen, and manifested

a good deal of simple faith. He said he had no resentment against the

person who had shot him, and that he did wish to know and think about

the world to come. He accepted at once the story of God's love, shown in

sending Jesus to die for us, and he seemed to have some apprehension of

what God must be, and of what we are--how unlike Him, how unable to make

ourselves fit to be with Him. He certainly spoke of Jesus as of a living

Person close by him, willing and able to help him. He of his own accord

made a little prayer to Him, "Help me, wake me, make my heart light,

take away the darkness. I wish for you, I want to go to you, I don't

want to think about this world."'

Early the next morning the Bishop went again, taking George Sarawia with

him. The man said, 'I have been thinking of what you said. I have been

calling on the Saviour (i Vaesu) all night.' The Bishop spoke long

to him, and left Sarawia with him, speaking and praying quietly and

earnestly.

Meanwhile continues the diary:--

'I went to the men in the village, and spoke at length to them: "Yes,

God will not cast out those who turn to Him when they are called, but

you must not suppose that it is told us anywhere that He will save those

who care nothing about Him through their years of health, and only

think about Him and the world to come when this world is already passing

away."

'How utterly unable one feels to say or do the right thing, and the

words fall so flat and dull upon careless ears!'

Every day for ten days the poor sufferer Natungoe was visited, and he

listened with evident faith and comprehension. On May 15 the entry is:--

'I was so satisfied with his expressions of faith in the Saviour, of

his hope of living with Him; he spoke so clearly of his belief in Jesus

having been sent from the Great Creator and Father of all to lead us

back to Him, and to cleanse us from sin, which had kept us from our

Father, by His Death for us; he was so evidently convinced of the truth

of our Lord's Resurrection and of the resurrection of us all at the last

day--that I felt that I ought to baptize him. I had already spoken to

him of Baptism, and he seemed to understand that, first, he must believe

that the water is the sign of an inward cleansing, and that it has

no magical efficacy, but that all depended on his having faith in the

promise and power of God; and second, that Jesus had commanded those who

wished to believe and love Him to be baptized.

'The expression Nan ive Maroo i Vaesu, "I wish for the Saviour,"

had been frequently used by him; and I baptized him by the name of

Maroovaesu, a name instantly substituted for his old name Natungoe by

those present.

'I have seen him again to-day; he cannot recover, and at times the

tetanus spasms are severe, but it is nothing like dear Fisher's case. He

can still eat and speak; women sit around holding him, and a few people

sit or lie about in the hut. It looks all misery and degradation of the

lowest kind, but there is a blessed change, as I trust, for him.'

On Sunday the 19th the last agony had come. He lay on a mat on the

ground, in the middle of the village, terribly racked by convulsions,

but still able in the intervals to speak intelligibly, and to express

his full hope that he was going to his Saviour, and that his pain would

soon be over, and he would be at rest with Him, listening earnestly to

the Bishop's prayers. He died that night.

In the meantime, the Bishop had not neglected the attacking party. Of

them, one had been killed outright, and two more were recovering from

their wounds, and it was necessary to act as pacificator.

'Meanwhile, I think how very little religion has to do directly

with keeping things quiet; in England (for example) men would avenge

themselves, and steal and kill, were it not for the law, which is,

indeed, an indirect result of religion; but religion simply does not

produce the effect, i.e. men are not generally religious in England or

Mota. I have Maine's Book of "Ancient Law" among the half-dozen books I

have brought on shore, and it is extremely interesting to read here.'

How he read, wrote, or did anything is the marvel, with the hut

constantly crowded by men who had nothing to do but gather round, in

suffocating numbers, to stare at his pen travelling over the paper.

'They have done so a hundred times before,' he writes, actually under

the oppression, 'but anything to pass an hour lazily. It is useless to

talk about it, and one must humour them, or they will think I am vexed

with them.'

The scholars, neatly clothed, with orderly and industrious habits, were

no small contrast: 'But I miss as yet the link between them and the

resident heathen people. I trust and pray that George and others may,

ere long, supply it.

'But it is very difficult to know how to help them to change their mode

of life. Very much, even if they did accept Christianity, must go on

as before. Their daily occupations include work in the small gardens,

cooking, &c., and this need not be changed.

'Then as to clothing. I must be very careful lest they should think

that wearing clothes is Christianity. Yet certain domestic changes

are necessary, for a Christian life seems to need certain material

arrangements for decency and propriety. There ought to be partition

screens in the hut, for example, and some clothing is desirable no

doubt. A resident missionary now could do a good deal towards showing

the people why certain customs, &c., are incompatible with a Christian

life. His daily teaching would show how Christ acted and taught, and

how inconsistent such and such practices must be with the profession of

faith in Him. But regulations imposed from without I rather dread, they

produce so often an unreasoning obedience for a little while only.

The rules for the new life should be very few and very simple, and

carefully explained. "Love to God and man," explained and illustrated as

the consequence of some elementary knowledge of God's love to us, shown

of course prominently in the giving His own Son to us. There is no lack

of power to understand simple teaching, a fair proportion of adults take

it in very fairly. I was rather surprised on Friday evening (some sixty

or seventy being present) to find that a few men answered really rather

well questions which brought out the meaning of some of our Saviour's

names.

'"The Saviour?"

'"The saving His people."

'"Not all men? And why not all men? And from what poverty, sickness,

&c., here below?"

'"From their sins."

'"What is sin?"

'"All that God has forbidden."

'"What has He forbidden? Why? Because He grudges us anything? Why do you

forbid a child to taste vangarpal ('poison'), &c. &c.?"

'"The Way," "the Mediator," "the Redeemer," "the Resurrection," "the

Atoner," "the Word." Some eight days' teaching had preceded this; but I

dare say there are ten or fifteen people here now, not our scholars,

who can really answer on these points so as to make it clear that they

understand something about the teaching involved in these names. Of

course, I had carefully worked out the best way to accept these names

and ideas in Mota; and the illustrations, &c., from their customs made

me think that to some extent they understood this teaching.

'Of course the personal feeling is as pleasant as can be, and I think

there is something more: a real belief that our religion and our habits

are good, and that some day they will be accepted here. A considerable

number of people are leading very respectable lives on the whole. But

I see that we must try to spend more time here. George Sarawia is being

accepted to some extent as one whom they are to regard as a teacher.

He has a fair amount of influence. But in this little spot, among about

1,500 people, local jealousies and old animosities are so rife, that the

stranger unconnected with any one of them has so far a better chance of

being accepted by all; but then comes, on the other hand, his perfect

knowledge and our comparative ignorance of the language and customs of

the people. We want to combine both for a while, till the native teacher

and clergyman is fully established in his true position.

'It is a curious thing that the Solomon Islanders from the south-east

part of that group should have dropped so much behind the Banks

Islanders. I knew their language before I knew the language of Mota,

they were (so to say) my favourites. But we can't as yet make any

impression upon them. The Loyalty Islanders have been suffered to

drop out; and so it is that all our leading scholars, all who set good

examples, and are made responsible for various duties, are (with the

sole exception of Soro, from Mai Island, New Hebrides) from the

Banks group. Consequently, their language is the lingua franca of the

school--not that we made it so, or wished it rather than any other to be

so; indeed Bauro is easier, and so are some others: but so it is. It is

an excellent thing, for any Melanesian soon acquires another Melanesian

language, however different the vocabulary may be. Their ideas and

thoughts and many of their customs are similar, the mode of life is

similar, and their mode of expressing themselves similar. They think in

the same way, and therefore speak in the same way. Their mode of life

is natural; ours is highly artificial. We are the creatures of a

troublesome civilisation to an extent that one realises here. When I go

ashore for five weeks, though I could carry all my luggage, yet it

must comprise a coffee-pot, sugar, biscuits, a cork bed, some tins of

preserved meat, candles, books, and my hut has a table and a stool,

and I have a cup, saucer, plate, knife, fork, and spoon. My good friend

George, who I think is on the whole better dressed than I am, and

who has adopted several of our signs of civilisation, finds the food,

cooking, and many of the ways of the island natural and congenial, and

would find them so throughout the Pacific.

'May 2lst.--The morning and evening school here is very nice. I doubt if

I am simple enough in my teaching. I think I teach too much at a time;

there is so much to be taught, and I am so impatient, I don't go slowly

enough, though I do travel over the same ground very often. Some few

certainly do take in a good deal.

'A very hot day, after much rain. This morning we took down our old

wooden hut, that was put up here by us six years ago. Parts of it are

useless, for in our absence the rain damaged it a good deal. I mean to

take it across to Arau, Henry Tagalana's little island, for there, even

in very wet weather, there is little fear of ague, the soil being light

and sandy. It would be a great thing to escape from the rich soil and

luxuriant vegetation in the wet months, if any one of us spent a long

time here. It was hot work, but soon over. It only took about two and

a half hours to take down, and stack all the planks, rafters, &c. Two

fellows worked well, and some others looked on and helped now and then.

'I have had some pleasant occupation for an hour or so each day in

clearing away the bush, which in one year grows up surprisingly here.

Many lemon, citron, and orange trees that we planted some years ago.

cocoa-nut trees also, were almost, some quite overgrown, quite hidden,

and our place looked and was quite small and close; but one or two hours

for a few days, spent in clearing, have made a great difference. I have

planted out about twenty-five lemon suckers, and as many pine-apples,

for our old ones were growing everywhere in thick clumps, and I have to

thin them out.

'Yesterday was a great day; we cut down two large trees, round one of

which I had carelessly planted orange, lemon, and cocoa-nut trees, so

that we did not know how to fell it so as to avoid crushing some fine

young trees; but the tree took the matter into its own hands, for it was

hollow in the centre, and fell suddenly, so that the fellows holding the

rope could not guide it, and it fell at right angles to the direction we

had chosen, but right between all the trees, without seriously hurting

one. It quite reminds me of old tree-cutting days at Feniton; only here

I see no oaks, nor elms, nor beeches, nor firs, only bread-fruit trees

and almond trees, and many fruit-bearing trees--oranges, &c., and guavas

and custard-apples--growing up (all being introduced by us), and the two

gigantic banyan trees, north and south of my little place. It is so very

pretty!

'I don't trouble myself much about cooking. My little canteen is

capital; and I can make myself all sorts of good things, if I choose to

take the trouble, and some days I do so. I bake a little bread now and

then, and natter myself it is uncommonly good; and one four-pound tin of

Bloxland's preserved meat from Queensland has already lasted me twelve

days, and there is about half of it remaining. He reckons each pound

well soaked and cooked to be equal to three pounds, and I think he is

right. A very little of this, with a bit of yam deliciously cooked,

and brought to me each day as a present by some one from their cooking

ovens, makes a capital dinner. Then I have some rice and sugar for

breakfast, a biscuit and coffee, and a bit of bread-fruit perhaps; and

all the little delicacies are here--salt, pepper, mustard, even to a

bottle of pickles--so I am pretty well off, I think.

'I find that the white ant, or an insect like it, is here. The plates

of our old hut are quite rotten, the outside still untouched, all within

like tinder. They call the insect vanoa; it is not found in New Zealand,

but it is a sad nuisance in Australia.

'I do not read much here this time, so much of every day is taken up

with talking to the people about me. That is all right, and I generally

can turn the talk to something that I wish them to hear, so it is all

in the way of business here. And I am glad to say that my school, and

conversations and lessons, need some careful preparation. I have spent

some time in drawing up for myself a little scheme of teaching for

people in the state of my friends here. I ought of course to have done

it long ago, and it is a poor thing now. I cannot take a real pleasure

in teaching, and so I do it badly. I am always, almost always, glad when

school is over, though sometimes I get much interested myself, though

not often able to interest others.

'I am reading some Hebrew nearly every day, and Lightfoot on the

Galatians, Tyler's "Researches into the Early History of Mankind,"

Dollinger's "First Ages of the Church," and "Ecce Homo." I tried Maine's

"Ancient Law," but it is too tough for the tropics, unless I chance

to feel very fresh. I generally get an hour in the evening, if I am

sleeping at home.

'May 23rd.--I suppose anyone who has lived in a dirty Irish

village--pigs, fowls, and children equally noisy and filthy, and the

parents wild, ignorant, and impulsive--may have some notion of this kind

of thing. You never get a true account, much less a true illustration of

the real thing. Did you happen to see a ridiculous engraving on one of

the S. P. Gr. sheets some years ago, supposed to be me taking two Ambrym

boys to the boat? (Footnote: No such engraving can be found by the S. P.

Gr. It was probably put forth in some other publication.) Now it is much

better not to draw at all than to draw something which can only mislead

people. If Ambrym boys really looked like those two little fellows, and

if the boat with bland-looking white men could quietly be pulled to the

beach, and if I, in a respectable dress, could go to and from the boat

and the shore, why the third stage of Mission work has been reached

already! I don't suppose you can picture to yourselves the real state

of things in this, and in many of these islands, and therefore the great

difficulty there is in getting them out of their present social, or

unsocial, state!

'To follow Christian teaching out in detail, to carry it out from the

school into the hut, into the actual daily life of the dirty naked

women, and still dirtier though not more naked children; to get the men

really to abandon old ways from a sense of responsibility and duty and

love to God, this of course comes very slowly. I am writing very lazily,

being indeed tired with heat and mosquitos. The sun is very hot again

to-day. I have no thermometer here, but it feels as if it ought to be

90° in the shade.

'May 25th.--George Sarawia spent yesterday here, and has just gone to

his village. He and I had a good deal of conversation. I copied out for

him the plan of teaching drawn up from books already printed in their

language. He speaks encouragingly, and is certainly recognised as one

who is intended to be the teacher here. No one is surprised that he

should be treated by me in a very different way from anyone else, with

a complete confidence and a mutual understanding of each other. He is a

thoroughly good, simple-minded fellow, and I hope, by God's blessing, he

may do much good. He told me that B---- wants to come with me again; but

I cannot take him. As we have been living properly, and for the sake

of the head school and our character in the eyes of the people here, I

cannot take him until he shows proof of a real desire to do his duty. I

am very sorry for it. I have all the old feeling about him; and he is

so quick and intelligent, but he allows himself again and again to be

overcome by temptation, hard I dare say to withstand; but this conduct

does disqualify him for being chosen to go with us. I am leaving behind

some good but dull boys, for I can't make room as yet for them, and I

must not take an ill-conducted fellow because he is quick and clever. He

has some sort of influence in the place from his quickness, and from his

having acquired a good deal of riches while with us. He says nothing,

according to Sarawia, for or against our teaching. Meanwhile, he lives

much like a somewhat civilised native. Poor fellow! I sent a message to

him by George that if he wished to see me, I should be very willing to

have a talk with him.

'Yesterday we made some sago. A tree is cut down in its proper stage of

growth, just when it begins to flower. The pith is pulled and torn into

shreds and fibres, then the juice is squeezed out so as to allow it to

run or drip into some vessel, while water is poured on the pith by some

one assisting the performer. The grounds (as say of coffee) remain at

the bottom when the water is poured off, and an hour of such a sun as

we had yesterday dries and hardens the sago. It is then fit for use. I

suppose that it took an hour and a half to prepare about a slop-basin

full of the dried hard sago. I have not used it vet. We brought tapioca

here some years ago, and they used it in the same way, and they had

abundance of arrow-root. On Monday I will make some, if all is well. Any

fellow is willing to help for a few beads or fish-hooks, and they do all

the heavy work, the fetching water, &c.

'I never saw anything like the pigeons in the great banyan tree close

by. They eat its berries, and I really think there are at times more

than a hundred at once in it. Had I a gun here I think I might have

brought down three or four at a shot yesterday, sitting shot of course,

but then I should shoot "for the pot." Palmer had his gun here last

year, and shot as many as he wanted at any time. The bats at night are

innumerable; they too eat the banyan berries, but chiefly the ripening

bread-fruit. The cats we brought here have nearly cleared the place of

the small rats which used to abound here; but lizards abound in this

hut, because it is not continually smoke-dried.

'Last night I think some of the people here heard some rather new

notions, to them, about the true relation of man and woman, parent and

child, &c. They said, as they do often say, "Every word is true! how

foolish we are!" But how to get any of them to start on a new course is

the question.

'Ascension Day, May 30th.--There is a good deal of discussion going on

now among the people. I hear of it not only from our old scholars, but

from some of the men. I have been speaking day by day more earnestly to

the people; always reading here and there verses of the Gospels or the

Acts, or paraphrasing some passage so that they may have the actual

words in which the message is recorded. They say, "This is a heavy,

a weighty word," and they are talking, as they say, night after night

about it. Some few, and they elderly men, say, "Let us talk only about

our customs here." Others say, "No, no; let us try to think out the

meaning of what he said." A few come and ask me questions, only a few,

not many are in earnest, and all are shy. Many every night meet in

Robert Pantatun's house, twenty-five or thirty, and ask him all manner

of questions, and he reads a little. They end with prayer.

'They have many strange customs and superstitious observances peculiar

to this group. They have curious clubs, confraternities with secret

rites of initiation. The candidate for admission pays pigs and native

money, and after many days' seclusion in a secret place is, with great

ceremony, recognised as a member. No woman and none of the uninitiated

may know anything of these things.

'In every village there is a Sala Goro, a place for cooking, which only

those who have "gazed at the sacred symbol" may frequent. Food cooked

there may not be eaten by one uninitiated, or by women or children.

The path to the Sala Goro is never trodden by any woman or matanomorous

("eye closed"). When any ceremony is going on the whole of the precincts

of the Sala Goro are sacred. At no time dare any woman eat with any man,

no husband with his wife, no father with his daughter as soon as she is

no longer a child.

'Of course such a system can be used by us in two ways. I say, "You have

your method of assembling together, and you observe certain customs in

so doing; so do we, but yours is an exclusive and selfish system: your

secret societies are like our clubs, with their entrance fees, &c. But

Christ's society has its sacred rite of admission, and other mysteries

too, and it is for all who wish to belong to it. He recognises no

distinction of male or female, bond or free."

'Some of the elder men are becoming suspicious of me. I tell them

plainly that whatever there may be in their customs incompatible with

the great law of Love to God and man must come to nought. "You beat and

terrify matanomorous in order to make them give, that you may get pigs

and native money from them. Such conduct is all wrong, for if you beat

or frighten a youth or man, you certainly can't love him."

'At the same time I can't tell how far this goes. If there were a real

ceremony of an idol or prayer to it, of course it would be comparatively

easy to act in the matter; but the ceremony consists in sticking a

curious sort of mitre, pointed and worked with hair, on the head of the

candidate, and covering his body with a sort of Jack-in-the green wicker

work of leaves, &c., and they joke and laugh about it, and attach,

apparently, no religious significance to it whatever.

'I think it has the evil which attends all secret societies, that it

tends to produce invidious distinctions and castes. An instinct impels

men to form themselves into associations; but then Christ has satisfied

that instinct legitimately in the Church.

'Christianity does meet a human instinct; as, e.g., the Lord's Supper,

whatever higher and deeper feelings it may have, has this simple, but

most significant meaning to the primitive convert, of feasting as a

child with his brethren and sisters at the Father's Board.

'The significance of this to people living as more than half the human

beings in the world are living still, is such as we have lost the power

of conceiving; the Lord's Supper has so long had, so to say, other

meanings for many of us. Yet to be admitted a member of God's family,

and then solemnly at stated times to use this privilege of membership,

strengthening the tie, and familiarising oneself more and more with the

customs of that heavenly family, this surely is a very great deal of

what human instinct, as exhibited in almost universal customs, requires.

'There are depths for those who can dive into them; but I really think

that in some of these theological questions we view the matter solely

from our state of civilisation and thought, and forget the multitudes of

uneducated, rude, unrefined people to whom all below the simple meaning

is unmeaning. May I not say to Robert Pantatun, "Christ, you know, gave

His Body and Blood for us on the Cross, He gives them to you now, for

all purposes of saving you and strengthening your spiritual life, while

you eat and drink as an adopted child at your Father's Table"?

'It is the keeping alive the consciousness of the relation of all

children to God through Christ that is needed so much. And with these

actual sights before me, and you have them among you in the hundreds of

thousands of poor ignorant creatures, I almost wonder that men should

spend so much time in refining upon points which never can have a

practical meaning for any persons not trained to habits of accurate

thought and unusual devotion. But here I am very likely wrong, and

committing the very fault of generalizing from my own particular

position.

'June 4th.--I was greatly pleased, on Friday evening last which George

Sarawia spent here with me, to hear from him that he had been talking

with the Banks Islanders at Norfolk Island, and on board ship, about

a plan which he now proposed to me. I had indeed thought of it, but

scarcely saw my way. It is a new proof of his real earnestness, and of

his seeking the good of his people here. The plan is this:--

'G. S. "Bishop, we have been talking together about your buying some

land here, near your present place, where we all can live together,

where we can let the people see what our mode of life is, what our

customs are, which we have learnt from you."

'J. C. P. "Capital, George, but are you all willing to give up your

living in villages among your own particular relations?"

'G. S. "Yes, we all agreed about it. You see, sir, if we live scattered

about we are not strong enough to hold our ground, and some of the

younger ones fall back into their old ways. The temptations are great,

and what can be expected of one or two boys among eighty or ninety

heathen people?"

'J. C. P. "Of course you know what I think about it. It is the very

thing I have always longed for. I did have a general school here, as you

know."

'G. S. "Yes, but things are different now. People are making enquiries.

Many young fellows want to understand our teaching, and follow it. If we

have a good large place of our own there, we can carry on our own mode

of living without interfering with other people."

'J. G. P. "Yes, and so we can, actually in the midst of them, let them

see a Christian village, where none of the strange practices which are

inconsistent with Christianity will be allowed, and where the comforts

and advantages of our customs may be actually seen."

'G. S. "By-and-by it will be a large village, and many will wish to live

there, and not from many parts of Mota only."

'Well, I have told you, I suppose, of the fertility of this island, and

how it is far more than sufficient to supply the wants of the people.

Food is wasted on all sides. This very day I have plucked ten large

bread-fruits, and might have plucked forty now nearly ripe, simply that

the bats may not get them. I gave them away, as I can't eat more than a

third part of one at a meal.

'So I went with George on Saturday, and we chose such a beautiful

property, between Veverao and Maligo, I dare say about ten acres. Then

I spoke to the people here, explaining my wishes and motives. To-day we

have been over it with a large party, that all might be done publicly

and everybody might hear and know. The land belongs to sixteen different

owners; the cocoa-nut trees, breadfruit, almond, and other fruit-trees

are bought separately.

'They all agree; indeed, as they have abundance of space of spare land

just as good all about, and they will get a good stock of hatchets,

pigs, &c., from me, for this land, there is not much doubt about that.

But it is pleasant to hear some of them say, "No, no, that is mine and

my son's, and he is your boy. You can have that for nothing."

'I shan't take it; it is safer to buy, but it is pleasant to see the

kind feeling.

'If it be God's will to prosper this undertaking, we should begin next

year with about fifteen of our own scholars, and a goodly number of

half-scholars, viz., those who are now our regular scholars here, but

have not been taken to New Zealand.

'Fencing, clearing, &c., could go on rapidly. Many would help, and small

payments of beads and fish-hooks can always secure a man's services.

'I should build the houses with the material of the island, save only

windows, but adopt of course a different shape and style for them. The

idea would be to have everything native fashion, but improved, so as to

be clearly suitable for the wants of people sufficiently civilised. All

that a Christian finds helpful and expedient we ought to have, but to

adopt English notions and habits would defeat my object. The people

could not adopt them, there would be no teaching for them. I want to be

able to say: "Well, you see, there is nothing to prevent you from having

this and that, and your doing this and that."

'We must have some simple rules about cleanliness, working hours, &c.,

but all that is already familiar to those who have been with us at

Kohimarama and Norfolk Island. Above all, I rejoice in the thought that

the people understand that very soon this plan is to be worked by George

Sarawia. He is to be the, so to say, head of the Christian village. I

shall be a kind of Visitor. Palmer will, of course, be wanted at first,

but must avoid the fault of letting the people, our own pupils as well

as others, become dependent upon us. The Paraguay Mission produced

docile good-natured fags for the missionaries, but the natives had

learnt no self-respect, manliness, nor positive strength of character.

They fought well, and showed pluck when the missionaries armed them,

but they seem to have had no power of perpetuating their newly-learnt

customs, without the continual guidance of the missionaries. It may be

that such supervision is necessary; but I do not think it is so, and I

should be sorry to think it is so.'

As usual, the Mota climate told on the health of the party, there was

general influenza, and the Bishop had a swelling under his left arm;

but on Whitsunday the 'Southern Cross,' which had been to set down the

Solomon Islanders, returned, and carried him off. Vanua Lava was touched

at, and a stone, carved by John Adams, put up at Fisher Young's grave,

which was found, as before, well kept in order. Then the round of the

New Hebrides was made; but new volunteers were refused, or told to wait

ten moons, as it was an object to spend the first season in the new

locality with tried scholars.

At 'the grand island, miscalled Leper's,' the Bishop slept ashore for

the first time, and so also at Whitsuntide.

At Espiritu Santo much friendliness was shown, and a man would not take

a present Mr. Atkin offered, because he had nothing, to pay for it.

Santa Cruz, as usual, was disappointing, as, Mr. Atkin says, the only

word in their mouths, the only thought in their heads, was 'iron;'

they clamoured for this, and would not listen; moreover, their own

pronunciation of their language was very indistinct, owing to their

teeth being destroyed by the use of the betel-nut, so that they all

spoke like a man with a hot potato in his mouth.

'So again we leave this fine island without any advance, as far as we

can see, having been made. I may live to think these islanders very

wild, and their speech very difficult, yet I know no more of them

now than I did years ago. Yet I hope that some unforeseen means for

"entering in among" them may be given some day. Their time is to come,

sooner or later, when He knows it to be the right time.'

Savo was then touched at; and the Bishop slept ashore at Florida, and

left Mr. Brooke there to the hospitality of three old scholars for a few

days, by way of making a beginning. The observations on the plan show a

strange sense of ageing at only forty:--

'He speaks the language fairly; and his visit will, I hope, do good. Of

course he will be tired, and will enjoy the quiet of the schooner after

it. I know what that is pretty well, and it takes something to make one

prefer the little vessel at sea to any kind of shore life. However,

he has youth and cheery spirits at command, and that makes life on an

island. A man whose tastes naturally are for books, &c., rather than

for small talk, and who can't take much interest in the very trifling

matters that engage the attention of these poor fellows, such a man

finds it very tiring indeed sometimes, when a merry bright good-natured

fellow would amuse himself and the natives too.

'In these introductory visits, scarcely anything is done or said that

resembles Mission work as invented in stories, and described by the very

vivid imagination, of sensational writers. The crowd is great, the noise

greater, the heat, the dirt, the inquisitiveness, the endless repetition

of the same questions and remarks, the continual requests for a

fish-hook, for beads, &c.--this is somewhat unlike the interesting

pictures, in a Missionary Magazine, of an amiable individual very

correctly got up in a white tie and black tailed coat, and a group of

very attentive, decently-clothed and nicely-washed natives. They are

wild with excitement, not to hear "the good news," but to hear how the

trading went on: "How many axes did they sell? How many bits of iron?"

'You say, "Why do you trade at all?" Answer: In the first visits that we

make we should at once alienate all the goodwill of the people from us

unless we so far complied with their desire to get iron tools, or to

trade more or less with them. As soon as I can I give presents to three

or four leading men, and then let the buying curiosities be carried on

by the crew and others; but not to trade at all would be equivalent to

giving up hope of establishing any intercourse with the people.

'But in new islands, and upon our first visits, if we do get a chance

of saying something amid the uproar, what can we say about religion

that will be intelligible to men whose language has never been used to

express any thought of ours that we long to communicate, and whose minds

are pre-occupied by the visit of the vessel, and the longing for our

articles of trade? Sometimes we do try to say a few words; sometimes

we do a little better, we get a hearing, some persons listen with some

interest; but usually, if we can merely explain that we don't come to

trade, though we trade to please them, that we wish to take lads and

teach them, we are obliged to be satisfied. "Teach them! teach them

what?" think the natives. Why, one old hatchet would outweigh in their

minds all that boy or man can gain from any teaching. What appreciable

value can reading, writing, wearing clothes, &c., have in their eyes? So

we must in first visits (of which I am now thinking) be thankful that

we can in safety sleep on shore at all, and regard the merely making

friends with the people as a small beginning of Mission work.

'Poor fellows! they think it very strange! As you lie down in the dark

and try to sleep, you presently feel hands stroking your arms and

legs, and feeling you about to make sure that the stranger has the same

allowance of arms and legs that they have; and you overhear such quaint

remarks as you lie still, afraid to let them know that you are awake,

lest they should oblige you to begin talking over again the same things

that you have already said twenty times.'

Mr. Brooke stayed four days at Florida; and came away with three former

pupils, and four new ones, one of them grown up, a relative of the

leading man of the island. Taroniara was the only Bauro scholar brought

away this time; but so many were taken from Mota that the whole party

numbered thirty-seven, seven of them girls, all betrothed to one or

other of the lads. The entire colony at St. Barnabas, including English,

was thus raised to seventy, when the 'Southern Cross' returned thither

in August. On the 23rd, Bishop Patteson writes:--

'I wish you could see this place and the view from this room. I have

only got into it within this hour. The carpenters are just out of it.

You know that I left Palmer here about eleven months ago, on the return

from that island voyage. He had sixteen lads with him, of whom eleven

were good stout fellows.

'He did work wonderfully. The place I chose for the site of the station

is about three miles from the settlement--the town, as the people call

it. If you have a map of the island, you will see Longridge on the

western part of it. Follow on the principal road, which goes on beyond

Longridge in a N. and NW. direction, and about a mile beyond Longridge

is our station. The top of Mount Pitt is nearly opposite our houses, of

which two are now habitable, though not finished. The third, which is

the house at Kohimarama which I had for one year, and in which Sir W.

and Lady Martin spent ten days, will be begun on Monday next, I hope.

The labour of getting all these things from New Zealand and then landing

them (for there is no harbour), and then carting them up here (for there

are no really good horses here, but the two I bought and sent down),

was very considerable. Palmer and his boys worked admirably. He was

industrious indeed. He and they lived at first in a little cottage,

about three-quarters of a mile from our place, i.e., about a quarter of

a mile from Longridge. During the first month, while they had no cart or

horses as yet (for I had to send them down from Auckland), they

fenced in some lands (the wire for which I had bought at Sydney, and

a man-of-war brought it hither), planted yams (which grow excellently,

such a crop never was seen here) and sweet potatoes, melons, vegetables,

&c. Meanwhile, the timber for the houses was being sent as I had

opportunity, a large quantity having been already taken to Norfolk

Island in a man-of-war. Luckily, timber was selling very cheap at

Auckland.

'After this first month, Palmer set to work at house building. He built

entirely by himself, save the chimney and some part of the shingling

(wooden roofing). As yet, no rooms have any ceiling or lining; they

might by innocent people be thought to resemble barns, but they are

weather-proof, strong, and answer all present purposes. The verandah,

about 8 feet broad, is another great room really.

'I am still buying and sending down bricks, timber, &c. Two Auckland

carpenters, thoroughly steady men, left Norfolk Island, about three

weeks after we left it, for the Melanesian islands. They have been

putting up my special building. We have no doors like hall doors, as

all the rooms open with glass doors on to the verandah, and they are the

doors for going in and out. Comprenez-vous? The ground slopes away from

these two houses for some 200 yards or more to a little stream; and this

slope is all covered with sweet potatoes and vegetables, and Codrington

and Palmer have planted any number of trees, bushes, flowers, &c.

Everything grows, and grows luxuriantly. Such soil, such a climate!

'By-and-by I shall have, I hope, such myrtles and azaleas, kalmias and

crotons, and pine-apples and almond trees, bananas and tree-ferns, and

magnolias and camellias, &c., all in the open air.

'The ground slopes up beyond the little stream, a beautiful wooded bank,

wooded with many kinds of trees and bushes, large Norfolk Island pines;

cattle and sheep stray about. Oh! how very pretty it is! And then beyond

and above this first slope, the eye travels along the slopes of the Pitt

to its summit, about 1,000 feet, a pretty little hill. It is, indeed,

a calm peaceful scene, away from noise and bustle, plenty of pleasant

sounds of merry boys working in the gardens, and employing themselves

in divers ways. The prospect is (D. Gr.) a very happy one. It is some

pleasure to work here, where the land gives "her increase" indeed.

'All seem very happy and well pleased with the place. I don't see how

it can be otherwise, and yet to the young people there may be something

attractive in society. But the young ones must occasionally go to

Auckland or Sydney, or whithersoever they please, for a two or three

months' holiday. For me, what can I desire more than this place affords?

More than half of each year spent here if I live, and quietly, with any

amount of work, uninterrupted work, time for quiet reading and thought.

This room of mine in which I now am sitting is magnifique, my dear Joan;

seriously, a very good room. You see it will be full of boys and girls;

and I must have in it many things, not books only, for the general use

of all here, so that I determined to make it a nice place at once.

'This room then, nicely lined, looking rather like a wooden box, it

is true, but clean and airy, is 22 feet x 14 feet 6 in., and the wall

plates 9 feet 6 in. high, the ceiling coved a little, so as to be nearly

14 feet high in the centre. What do you think of that for a room? It

has a fire-place, and wide verandah, which is nearly 6 feet above the

ground, so that I am high and dry, and have all the better view too,

quite a grand flight of steps--a broad ladder--up into my house. The

Mahaga lads and I call it my tree-house.

'Then I have one great luxury. I thought I would have it, and it is

so nice. My room opens into the Chapel by red baize swinging doors; my

private entrance, for there is a regular porch where the rest go in.

'Service at 7 A.M. and 8 P.M. But it is always open, boys come in of a

morning to say their private prayers, for sleeping together in one room

they have little privacy there. And I can go in at all hours. Soon it

will become a sacred spot to us. It is really like a Chapel.

'August 27th.--Your birthday, my dear old Fan! God bless you, and

grant you all true happiness, and the sense of being led onwards to the

eternal peace and joy above. The parting here is a long one; and likely

to be a parting for good, as far as this world is concerned.

'Last night was the coldest night that they have had during the whole

winter; the thermometer touched 43°--Codrington has regular registering

thermometers, so you see what a charming climate this is for us. Palmer

was here all the summer, and he says that the heat, though great as

marked by thermometer, was never trying, relaxing, and unfitting for

work, as at Kohimarama.'

Thus began the first period of the residence in Norfolk Island; where

Mr. Codrington's account of the way of life shall supplement the

above:--

'When the Bishop returned in August 1867, our party consisted of

himself, Mr. Palmer in Deacon's orders, and myself, Mr. Atkin and Mr.

Brooke already experienced in the work, and Mr. Bice, who had with

myself lately arrived from England. The whole number of Melanesians was

about sixty; among the eldest of these the most intelligent and advanced

of the few then baptized, George, Henry, B----, Robert and Edward. There

were then, I think, thirteen baptized, and two Communicants. To this

elder class, the Bishop, as far as I can recollect, devoted the greater

part of his time. He said that now for the first time he was able

without interruption to set to work to teach them, and he certainly made

great progress in those months. I remember that every evening they used

to sit in Chapel after prayers, and consider what difficulty or question

they should propound to him; and he would come in after a time, and,

after hearing the question, discuss the subject, discourse upon it, and

end with prayer. They were at the time, I remember, much impressed by

this; and those who were the most advanced took in a great deal of an

elevated strain of doctrine which, no doubt, passed over the heads of

the greater number, but not without stirring up their hearts.

'It became a regular custom on the evening before the Communion Sunday,

i.e., every other Sunday, to give the Communicants instruction and

preparation after the Chapel service. At this time there was no Sunday

sermon in Chapel. The Bishop used to say that the preaching was done

in the school; but much of his school was of a hortatory kind in the

Chapel, and often without taking off the surplice.

'At this time I should add that he used from time to time to have other

boys with him to school, and particularly Solomon Islanders, whose

languages he alone could generally speak. He had also a good deal with

him the second set of eight Banks Islanders, who were by this time

recognised Catechumens.

'There were other occupations of the Bishop's time, besides his school

with Melanesians. The hour from 12 to 1 was devoted to instruction given

to the two young men, one from New Zealand and one a son of Mr. Nobbs,

who were working with the Mission; and on alternate days to the younger

members of the Mission, who were being prepared for Ordination.

'The reading with the younger clergy continued to be to the last one

of the most regular and most fruitful of the Bishop's engagements. The

education which Mr. Atkin had for many years received from the Bishop

had set him considerably above the average of young English clergy,

not only in scholarship and information, but also in habits of literary

industry. The Bishop, with his own great interest in Hebrew, enjoyed

very much his Hebrew reading with Mr. Atkin and Mr. Bice.

'The Bishop also began as soon as he could to pay attention to the

teaching of the young Norfolk Islanders. He preached very often in their

Church, and went down on Wednesdays to take a class of candidates for

Confirmation. He said, and I believe with truth, that he wasted a great

deal of time in preparing his lessons with the candidates for Ordination

or younger clergy; that is, he looked up the subject in some book, and

read on and on till he had gone far beyond the point in search of which

he started, and had no time left to take up the other points which

belonged to the subject he had in view. I should say he was always a

desultory scholar, reading very much and to very great purpose, but

being led continually from one subject or one book to another long

before coming to an end of the first. He was always so dissatisfied with

what he did, that whereas there are remaining several beginnings of one

or two pages on one subject or another, there is no paper of his which

is more than a fragment--that is, in English. There is one series of

Notes on the Catechism in Mota complete. In those days I was not myself

able to converse sufficiently in Mota to learn much from the elder boys

about the teaching they were receiving; but it was evident that they

were much impressed and stirred up, they spent much time with their

books by themselves, and one could not fail to form a high estimate of

the work that was going on. Now they say they never had school like that

before or since. The Bishop was, in fact, luxuriating in the unbroken

opportunity of pouring out instruction to intelligent and interested

scholars. I think it was altogether a happy time to him; he enjoyed the

solitude, the advantages of the move to the island were apparent in the

school work, and were anticipated in the farm, and the hope of doing

something for the Pitcairn people, which I believe had much to do with

fixing the Mission here, was fresh.'

This judgment is thoroughly borne out by the Bishop's own letter to his

sisters of October 27, wherein it appears how considerable an element of

his enjoyment and comfort was Mr. Codrington's own companionship, partly

as a link with the younger members of the little community:--

'Do I feel doubtful about an early Communion Service, Codrington, when I

broach the matter, takes it up more eagerly almost than I do; and then

I leave him to talk with the others, who could hardly differ from me on

such a point if they wished to do so, but will speak freely to him.

Not that, mind, I am aware of there being anything like a feeling of

distance between me and them, but necessarily they must just feel that

I am forty and their Bishop, and so I might perhaps influence them too

much, which would be undesirable.

'Then I can talk with him on matters which of course have special

interest for me, for somehow I find that I scarcely ever read or think

on any points which do not concern directly my work as clergyman or

language-monger. It is very seldom that I touch a book which is not a

commentary on the Bible or a theological treatise, scarcely ever, and of

course one likes to talk about those things of which one's mind is full.

That made the talks with the Judge so delightful. Now young people, of

course, have their heads full (as I used to have mine) of other things,

and so my talk would be dull and heavy to them.

'No doubt, if you had me at home you would find that I am pretty full of

thoughts on some points, but not very well able to express myself, and

to put my thoughts into shape. It is partly want of habit, because,

except as one speaks somewhat dictatorially to pupils, I do not arrange

my ideas by conversing with others--to a great extent, from want of

inclination, i.e., indolence, and also I have not the brains to think

out a really difficult subject. I am amused occasionally to see what a

false estimate others form of me in that way. You see it has pleased

God to give me one faculty in rather an unusual degree, that of learning

languages, but in every other respect my abilities are very moderate

indeed. Distance exaggerates of course, and I get credit with some folks

for what if I had it would simply be a gift and no virtue in me; but

I attain anything I work at with very considerable labour, and my mind

moves very sluggishly, and I am often very dull and stupid. You may

judge, therefore, of the great advantage of having a bright, cheery,

intelligent, well-informed man among us, without whom every meal would

be heavy and silent, and we should (by my fault) get into a mechanical

grind....

'As for your own worthy Brother, I don't think I knew what rest meant

till I got here. I work, in one sense, as hard as before, i.e., from

early morn till 10 P.M., with perhaps the intermission of a hour and

a half for exercise, besides the twenty minutes for each of the three

meals; and did my eyes allow it, I could go on devouring books much

later. But then I am not interrupted and distracted by the endless

occupation of the New Zealand life. Oh! how utterly distasteful to me

were all those trustee meetings, those English duties of all kinds, and

most of all, those invasions of Kohimarama by persons for whom I could

get up no interest. I am not defending these idiosyncrasies as if they

were all right, but stating what I felt and what I feel. I am indeed

very happy here; I trust not less useful in my way. School of course

flourishes. You would be surprised at the subjects that I and my first

class work at. No lack of brains! Perhaps I can express it briefly by

saying that I have felt for a year or more the need of giving them

the Gospel of St. John. Because they were ready, thank God, for those

marvellous discourses and arguments in that blessed Gospel, following

upon the record of miracles wrought or events that happened.

'Of course the knowledge of the facts must come first, but there was

always in school with me--either they have it as a natural gift, or my

teaching takes naturally that line--a tendency to go deeper than the

mere apprehension of a fact, a miracle wrought, or a statement made.

The moral meaning of the miracle, the principle involved in the less

important expression of it, or particular manifestation of it, these

points always of late I am able to talk about as to intelligent and

interested listeners. I have these last six weeks been translating St.

John; it is nearly done. Think, Fan, of reading, as I did last night, to

a class of fifteen Melanesian Christians, the very words of St. John vi.

for the first time in their ears! They had heard me paraphrase much of

it at different times. I don't notice these things, unless (as now) I

chance to write about them. After 6 P.M. Chapel, I remain with some of

the lads, the first class of boys, men, and women, every night, and in

addition, the second class every other night (not on the nights when I

have had them from 7 to 8). I used to catechise them at first, starting

the subject myself. Now, I rejoice to say, half goes very quickly in

answering questions, of which they bring me plenty.

Then, at about 8.50 or 9, I leave them alone in the Chapel (which opens,

as you know, into my sitting-room), and there they stay till past 10,

talking over points among themselves, often two or three coming in to

me, "Bishop, we can't quite make out this." What do they know and ask?

Well, take such a subject as the second Psalm, and they will answer you,

if you ask them, about prophecy and the prophetic state. Test them as to

the idea they form of a spiritual vision of something seen, but not with

the fleshly eye, and they will say, "Yes, our minds have that power of

seeing things. I speak of Mota, it is far off, but as I speak of it, I

see my father and my mother and the whole place. My mind has travelled

to it in an instant. I am there. Yes, I see. So David, so Moses, so St.

Peter on the housetop, so St. Paul, caught up into the third heaven, so

with his mind."

'"But was it like one of our dreams?"

'"Yes and No--Yes, because they were hardly like waking-men. No, because

it was a real true vision which God made them see."

'Ask them about the object of prophecy, and they will say, in quaint

expression, it is true, what is tantamount to this--it was not only a

prediction of things to come, but a chief means of keeping before the

minds of the Jews the knowledge of God's true character as the moral

Governor of their nation, and gradually the knowledge was given of His

being the Lord and Ruler of all men. The Prophet was the teacher of the

present generation as well as the utterer of truths that, when fulfilled

in after ages, would teach future ages.

'I mention these fragmentary sentiments, merely to show you how I can

carry these fellows into a region where something more than memory must

be exercised. The recurrence of the same principles upon which God deals

with us is an illustration of what I mean; e.g., the Redemption out of

Egypt from the Captivity and the Redemption involve the same principle.

So the principle of Mediation runs through the Bible, the Prophet,

Priest, King, &c. Then go into the particular Psalm, ask the meaning of

the words, Anointed, Prophet, Priest, King--how our Lord discharged and

discharges these offices. What was the decree? The Anointed is His Son.

"This day have I begotten Thee"--the Eternal Generation--the Birth from

the grave. His continual Intercession. Take up Psalm cx., the Priest,

the Priest for ever, not after the order of Aaron. Go into the Aaronical

Priesthood. Sacrifices, the idea of sacrifice, the Mosaic ritual, its

fulfilment; the principle of obedience, as a consequence of Faith,

common to Old and New Testaments, as, indeed, God's Moral Law is

unchangeable, but the object of faith clearly revealed in the New

Testament for the first time, &c., &c.

'Christ's Mediatorial reign, His annihilation of all opposition in the

appointed time, the practical Lesson the Wrath of the Lamb.

'Often you would find that pupils who can be taught these things seem

and are very ignorant of much simpler things; but they have no knowledge

of books, as you are aware, and my object is to teach them pretty fully

those matters which are really of the greatest importance, while I may

fill up the intervening spaces some day, if I live. To spend such energy

as they and I have upon the details of Jewish history, e.g., would be

unwise. The great lessons must be taught, as, e.g., St. Paul in 1 Cor.

x. uses Jewish history.

'October 15, I finished my last chapter of St. John's Gospel in the

Mota language; we have also a good many of the Collects and Gospels

translated, and some printed. What is better than to follow the Church's

selection of passages of Scripture, and then to teach them devotionally

in connection with the Collects?

'Brooke works away hard at his singing class in the afternoon. We sing

the Venite, Magnificat, Nunc dimittis, &c., in parts, to single and

double chants, my old favourite "Jacob's" for the Venite, also a fine

chant of G. Elvey's. They don't sing at all well, but nevertheless,

though apt to get flat, and without good voices, there is a certain body

of sound, and I like it. Brooke plays the harmonium nicely.

'The Norfolk Island people, two or three only, have been here at evening

service, and are extremely struck with the reverence of the Melanesians.

'I work away with my Confirmation class, liking them personally, but

finding no indication of their having been taught to think in the least.

It is a relief to get back to the Melanesians.'

The visit of the Bishop of New Zealand which had been hoped for, had

been prevented by the invitation to attend the Synod of the Church held

at Lambeth, in the autumn of 1867, and instead of himself welcoming his

friends, Bishop Patteson was picturing them to himself staying with

his sisters at Torquay, and joining in the Consecration Services of the

Church of All Saints, at Babbicombe, where the altar stood, fragrant

with the sandal wood of the Pacific isles. The letters sent off by an

opportunity in November were to family and friends, both in England. The

one to his sister Joanna narrates one of those incidents that touched

the Bishop most deeply:--

'On Friday last we had such a very, very solemn service in our little

Chapel. Walter Hotaswol, from Matlavo Island, is dying--he has long been

dying, I may say--of consumption. For two winters past he has remained

with us rather than in his own island, as he well knew that without

good food and care he would sink at once. Years ago he was baptized, and

after much time spent in preparation, Tuesday, at 7.30 A.M., was the day

when we met in Chapel. Walter leant back in a chair. The whole service

was in the Mota language, and I administered the Holy Communion to

eleven of our Melanesian scholars, and last of all to him. Three others

I trust I may receive to Holy Communion Sunday next. Is not this a

blessed thing? I think of it with thankfulness and fear. My old text

comes into my mind--"Your heart shall fear and be enlarged." I think

there is good hope that I may baptize soon seven or eight catechumens.'

The letter to Bishop Selwyn despatched by the same vessel on November

16, gives the first hint of that 'labour traffic' which soon became the

chief obstacle to the Mission.

After describing an interview with an American captain, he

continues:--'Reports are rife of a semi-legalised slave-trading between

the South Sea Islands and New Caledonia and the white settlers in

Fiji. I have made a little move in the matter. I wrote to a Wesleyan

Missionary in Fiji (Ovalau) who sent me some books. I am told that

Government sanctions natives being brought upon agreement to work for

pay, &c., and passage home in two years. We know the impossibility of

making contracts with New Hebrides or Solomon natives. It is a

mere sham, an evasion of some law, passed, I dare say, without any

dishonourable intention, to procure colonial labour. If necessary I will

go to Fiji or anywhere to obtain information. But I saw a letter in a

Sydney paper which spoke strongly and properly of the necessity of the

most stringent rules to prevent the white settlers from injuring the

coloured men.'

So first loomed the cloud that was to become so fatal a darkening of

the hopes of the Mission, all the more sad because it was caused by

Christian men, or men who ought to have been Christian. It will be seen,

however, that Bishop Patteson did not indiscriminately set his face

against all employment of natives. Occupation and training in civilised

customs were the very things he desired for them, but the whole question

lay in the manner of the thing. However, to him as yet it was but a

report, and this Advent and Christmas of 1867 were a very happy time. A

letter to me describes the crowning joy.

'Norfolk Island: Christmas Day, 1867.

'My dear Cousin,--One line to you to-day of Christmas feelings and

blessings. Indeed, you are daily in my thoughts and prayers. You would

have rejoiced could you have seen us last Sunday or this morning at 7

A.M. Our fourteen Melanesian Communicants so reverent, and (apparently)

earnest. On Sunday I ordained Mr. Palmer Priest, Mr. Atkin and Mr.

Brooke Deacons.

'The service was a solemn one, in the Norfolk Island Church, the people

joining heartily in the first ordination they had seen; Codrington's

sermon excellent, the singing good and thoroughly congregational,

and the whole body of confirmed persons remaining to receive the Holy

Communion. Our own little Chapel is very well decorated (Codrington

again the leader) with fronds of tree-ferns, arums, and lilies;

"Emmanuel, God amemina" (with us), in large letters over the altar.

'And now (9.30P.M.) they are practising Christmas hymns in Mota for our

11 A.M. service. Then we have a regular feast, and make the day a really

memorable one for them. The change from the old to the new state of

things, as far as our Banks Islanders are concerned, is indeed most

thankworthy. I feel that there is great probability of George Sarawia's

ordination before long. This next year he will be left alone (as far as

we whites are concerned) at Mota, and I shall be able to judge, I hope,

of his fitness for carrying on the work there. If it be God's will to

give him health of body and the will and power to serve Him, then he

ought to be ordained. He is an excellent fellow, thoughtful, sensible,

and my right hand among the Melanesians for years. His wife, Sara

Irotaviro, a nice gentle creature, with now a fine little boy some seven

months old. She is not at all equal to George in intelligence, and is

more native in habits, &c. But I think that she will do her best.

'You know I have long felt that there is almost harm done by trying

to make these islanders like English people. All that is needful for

decency and propriety in the arrangement of houses, in dress, &c.,

we must get them to adopt, but they are to be Melanesian, not English

Christians. We are so far removed from them in matters not at

all necessarily connected with Christianity, that unless we can

denationalise ourselves and eliminate all that belongs to us as English,

and not as Christians, we cannot be to them what a well-instructed

fellow-countryman may be. He is nearer to them. They understand him. He

brings the teaching to them in a practical and intelligible form.

'I hope and pray that dear old George may be the first of such a band

of fellow-workers. Others--Henry Tagalana, who is, I suppose, about

eighteen, Fisher Pantatun, about twenty-one, Edward Wogale (George's own

brother), about sixteen, Robert Pantatun, about eighteen--are excellent,

all that I could wish; and many younger ones are coming up. They stay

with us voluntarily two or three years now without any going home, and

the little ones read and write surprisingly well. They come to me very

often and say, "Bishop, I wish to stop here again this winter."

'They come for help of the best kind. They have their little printed

private prayers, but some are not content with this. Marosgagalo came

last week with a slip of paper--

'"Well, Maros, what is it?"

'He is a shy little fellow who has been crippled with rheumatism.

'"Please write me my prayer."

'And as my room opens into the Chapel, and they are told to use that at

all times (their sleeping-rooms not allowing much privacy), I know how

they habitually come into it early (at 5 A.M.) and late at night for

their private prayers. You cannot go into the Chapel between 5 and 6.30

A.M. without seeing two or three kneeling about in different corners. As

for their intelligence, I ought to find time to send you a full account

of them, translations of their answers, papers, &c., but you must be

content to know that I am sure they can reason well upon facts and

statements, that they are (the first class) quite able to understand all

the simpler theological teaching which you would expect Communicants and

(I pray) future clergymen to understand. Of some six or seven I can thus

speak with great confidence, but I think that the little fellows may

be better educated still, for they are with us before they have so much

lee-way to make up--jolly little fellows, bright and sharp. The whole

of the third Banks Island class (eight of them) have been with me for

eighteen months, and they have all volunteered to stay for eighteen

months more. They ought to know a great deal at the end of that time,

then they will go home almost to a certainty only for two or three

months, and come back again for another long spell.

'All this is hopeful, and we have much to be thankful for indeed; but I

see no immediate prospect of anything like this in the other islands at

present. We know very many of the islanders and more or less of their

languages; we have scholars who read and write, and stop here with us,

and who are learning a good deal individually, but I have as yet no

sense of any hold gained upon the people generally. We are good friends,

they like us, trust young people with us, but they don't understand our

object in coming among them properly. The trade and the excitement of

our visit has a good deal to do with their willingness to receive us and

to give us children and young men. They behave very well when here, and

their people treat us well when we are with them. But as yet I see no

religious feeling, no apprehension of the reality of the teaching: they

know in one sense, and they answer questions about the meaning of the

Creed, &c., but they would soon fall again into heathen ways, and their

people show no disposition to abandon heathen ways. In all this there is

nothing to surprise or discourage us. It must be slow work, carried on

without observation amidst many failures and losses and disappointments.

If I wished to attribute to secondary causes any of the results we

notice, I might say that our having lived at Mota two or three months

each year has had a great deal to do with the difference between the

Banks and the other islanders.

'It may be that, could we manage to live in Bauro, or Anudha, or Mahaga,

or Whitsuntide, or Lepers' Island, or Espiritu Santo, we might see

soon some such change take place as we notice in Mota; but all that is

uncertain, and such thoughts are useless. We must indeed live in those

other islands as soon as we can, but it is hard to find men able to do

so, and only a few of the islands are ripe for the attempt.

'I feel often like a horse going his regular rounds, almost

mechanically. Every part of the day is occupied, and I am too tired

at night to think freshly. So that I am often like one in a dream,

and scarcely realise what I am about. Then comes a time when I wish to

write, e.g. (as to you now) about the Mission, and it seems so hard to

myself to see my way, and so impossible to make others see what is in

my mind about it. Sometimes I think these Banks Islanders may be

evangelists beyond the limits of their own islands. So many of the

natives of other islands live here with them, and speak the language of

Mota, and then they have so much more in common with them than with us,

and the climate and food and mode of life generally are familiar to them

alike. I think this may come to pass some day; I feel almost sure that

I had better work on with promising islanders than attempt to train up

English boys, of which I once thought. I am more and more confirmed

in my belief that what one wants is a few right-minded, well-educated

English clergymen, and then for all the rest trust to native agency.

'When I think of Mr. Robertson and such men, and think how they work

on, it encourages me. And so, where do I hear of men who have so many

comforts, so great immunity from hardship and danger as we enjoy? This

is nothing to the case of a London parish.

'Fanny has sent me out my old engravings, which I like to look at once

more, although there is only one really good one among them, and yet

I don't like to think of her no longer having them. I have also a nice

selection of photographs just sent out, among which the cartoons from

Hampton Court are especially good. That grand figure of St. Paul at

Athens, which Raphael copied from Masaccio's fresco, always was a

favourite of mine.

'I feel at home here, more so than in any place since I left England;

but I hope that I may be able to spend longer intervals in the islands

than the mere sixteen or eighteen weeks of the voyage, if I have still

my health and strength. But I think sometimes that I can't last always;

I unconsciously leave off doing things, and wake up to find that I am

shirking work.

'Holy Innocents' Day.--I don't think I have sufficiently considered your

feelings in suffering the change of name in the Mission School that

took place, and I am rather troubled about it. I came back from the last

voyage to find that as I had selected a site for the buildings on St.

Barnabas Day, which was, by a coincidence, the day I spent here on my

outward voyage in 1866, the people had all named the place St.

Barnabas. Then came the thought of the meetings on St. Barnabas, and

the appropriateness of the Missionary Apostle's name, and I, without

thinking enough about it, acquiesced in the change of name. I should

have consulted you,--not that you will feel yourself injured, I well

know; but for all that, I ought to have done it. It was the more due

to you, because you won't claim any right to be consulted. I am really

sorry for it, and somewhat troubled in mind. (Footnote: 'He need not

have been sorry. I give this to show his kind, scrupulous consideration;

but I, like everyone else, could not help feeling that it was more

fitting that the germ of a missionary theological college should not

bear a name even in allusion to a work of fiction.)