'The common presents that our elder scholars take or send to their

friends include large iron pots for cooking, clothing, &c. They build

improved houses, and ask for small windows, &c., to put in them, boxes,

carpet bags for their clothes, small writing desks, note-books, ink,

pens. They keep their best clothes very carefully, and on Sundays and

great days look highly respectable. And for years we know no instance

of a baptized Melanesian throwing aside his clothing when taking his

holiday at home.

'As far as I can see my way to any rule in the matter, it is this: all

that is necessary to secure decency, propriety, cleanliness, health,

&c., must be provided for them. This at once involves alteration of the

houses, divisions, partitions. People who can read and write, and cut

out and sew clothes, must have light in their houses. This involves a

change of the shape and structure of the hut. They can't sit in clean

clothes on a dirty floor, and they can't write, or eat out of plates

and use cups, &c., without tables or benches, and as they don't want

to spend ten hours in sleep or idle talk, they must have lamps for

cocoa-nut and almond oil.

'These people are not taught to adopt these habits by word of mouth.

They live with us and do as we do. Two young married women are sitting

in my room now. I didn't call them in, nor tell them what to do. "We

didn't quite understand what you said last night." "Well, I have written

it out,--there it is." They took, as usual, the MS., sat down, just

as you or anyone would do, at the table to read it, and are now making

their short notes of it. Anyone comes in and out at any time, when not

at school, chapel, or work, just as they please. We each have our own

sitting-room, which is in this sense public property, and of course they

fall into our ways.

'There is perhaps no such thing as teaching civilisation by word

of command, nor religion either. The sine qua non for the

missionary--religious and moral character assumed to exist--is the

living with his scholars as children of his own. And the aim is to lift

them up, not by words, but by the daily life, to the sense of their

capacity for becoming by God's grace all that we are, and I pray God a

great deal more; not as literary men or scholars, but as Christian men

and women, better suited than we are for work among their own people.

"They shall be saved even as we." They have a strong sense of and

acquiescence in, their own inferiority. If we treat them as inferiors,

they will always remain in that position of inferiority.

'But Christ humbled Himself and became the servant and minister that He

might make us children of God and exalt us.

'It is surely very simple, but if we do thus live among them, they must

necessarily accept and adopt some of our habits. Our Lord led the life

of a poor man, but He raised His disciples to the highest pitch of

excellence by His Life, His Words, and His Spirit, the highest that

man could receive and follow. The analogy is surely a true one.

And exclusiveness, all the pride of race must disappear before such

considerations.

'But it is not the less true that He did not make very small demands

upon His disciples, and teach them and us that it needs but little

care and toil and preparation to be a Christian and a teacher of

Christianity. The direct contrary to this is the truth.

'The teacher's duty is to be always leading on his pupils to higher

conceptions of their work in life, and to a more diligent performance

of it. How can he do this if he himself acquiesces in a very imperfect

knowledge and practice of his duty?

'"And yet the mass of mediaeval missionaries could perhaps scarce read."

That may be true, but that was not an excellence but a defect, and the

mass of the gentry and nobility could not do so much. They did a great

work then. It does not follow that we are to imitate their ignorance

when we can have knowledge.

'But I am wasting your time and mine.

'Yours very truly,

'J. C. PATTESON.

'P.S.--George and his wife and child, Charles and his wife, Benjamin and

his wife, will live together at Mota on some land I have bought. A good

wooden house is to be put up by us this winter (D.V.) with one large

room for common use, school, &c., and three small bed-rooms opening on

to a verandah. One small bed-room at the other end which any one, two or

three of us English folks can occupy when at Mota. I dare say, first and

last, this house will cost seventy or eighty pounds.

'Then we hope to have everything that can be sown and planted with

profit in a tropical climate, first-class breed of pigs, poultry, &c.,

so that all the people may see that such things are not neglected. These

things will be given away freely-settings of eggs, young sows, seeds,

plants, young trees, &c. All this involves expense, quite rightly too,

and after all, I dare say that dear old George will cost about a sixth

or an eighth of what we English clergymen think necessary. I dare say

£25 per annum will cover his expenses.'

On Easter Sunday the penitent was readmitted to the Lord's Table. A

happy letter followed:--

'Easter Tuesday, 1869.

'My dearest Sisters,--Another opportunity of writing. I will only say a

word about two things. First, our Easter and the Holy Week preceding

it; secondly, how full my mind has been of Mr. Keble, on his two

anniversaries, Holy Thursday and March 29. And I have read much of the

"Christian Year," and the two letters I had from him I have read again,

and looked at the picture of him, and felt helped by the memory of his

holy saintly life, and I dared to think that it might be that by God's

great mercy in Christ, I might yet know him and other blessed Saints in

the Life to come.

'Our Holy Week was a calm solemn season. All the services have long been

in print. Day by day in school and chapel we followed the holy services

and acts of each day, taking Ellicott's "Historical Lectures" as a

guide.

'Each evening I had my short sermonet, and we sought to deepen the

impressions made evidently upon our scholars by whatever could make it a

real matter of life and death to them and us. Then came Good Friday and

Easter Eve, during which the Melanesians with Mr. Brooke were busily

engaged in decorating the Chapel with fronds of tree-ferns, bamboo,

arums, and oleander blossoms.

'Then, at 7 A.M. on Easter Morning, thirty of us--twenty-one, thank God,

being Melanesians--met in Chapel for the true Easter Feast.

'Then, at 11 A.M., how we chanted Psalms ii, cxiii, cxiv, and Hymn, and

the old Easter Hallelujah hymn to the old tune with Mota words. Then at

7 P.M. Psalms cxviii, cxlviii, to joyful chants, and singing Easter and

other hymns.

'So yesterday and so to-day. The short Communion Service in the morning

with hymn, and in the evening we chant Psalm cxviii, and sing out our

Easter hymn. Ah well! it makes my heart very full. It is the season of

refreshing, perhaps before more trails.

'Dear U---- was with us again on Easter morn, a truly repentant young

man, I verily believe, feeling deeply what in our country districts is

often not counted a sin at all to be a foul offence against his Father

and Saviour and Sanctifier.

'Six were there for their first Communion, among them honest old Stephen

Taroniara, the first and only communicant of all the Solomon Isles--of

all the world west of Mota, or east of any of the Bishop of Labuan's

communicants. Think of that! What a blessing! What a thought for praise

and hope and meditation!

'I sit in my verandah in the moonlight and I do feel happy in spite of

many thoughts of early days which may well make me feel unhappy.

'But I do feel an almost overpowering sensation of thankfulness and

peace and calm tranquil happiness, which I know cannot last long. It

would not, I suppose, be good: anyhow it will soon be broken by some

trial which may show much of my present state to be a delusion. Yet

I like to tell you what I think, and I know you will keep it to

yourselves.

'Good-bye, and all Easter blessings be with you.

'Your loving brother,

'J. C. PATTESON '

The island voyage was coming near, and was to be conducted, on a larger

scale, after the intermission of a whole year. Mr. Brooke was to make

some stay at Florida, Mr. Atkin at Wango in Bauro, and the Bishop

himself was to take the party who were to commence the Christian

village at Mota, while Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice remained in charge

of twenty-seven Melanesians. The reports of the effects of the labour

traffic were becoming a great anxiety, and not only the Fiji settlers,

but those in Queensland were becoming concerned in it.

The 'Southern Cross' arrived in June, but the weather was so bad that,

knocking about outside the rocks, she sustained some damage, and could

not put her freight ashore for a week. However, on the 24th she sailed,

and put down Mr. Atkin at Wango, the village in Bauro where the Bishop

had stayed two years previously.

Mr. Atkin gives a touching description of Taroniara's arrival:--

'Stephen was not long in finding his little girl, Paraiteka. She was

soon in his arms. The old fellow just held her up for the Bishop to

see, and then turned away with her, and I saw a handkerchief come out

privately and brush quickly across his eyes, and in a few minutes he

came back to us.'

The little girl's mother, for whose sake Taroniara had once refused

to return to school, had been carried off by a Maran man; and as the

heathen connection had been so slight, and a proper marriage so entirely

beyond the ideas of the native state, it was thought advisable to leave

this as a thing of heathen darkness, and let him select a girl to be

educated into becoming fit for his true wife.

Besides Stephen, Joseph Wate and two other Christian lads were with Mr.

Atkin, and he made an expedition of two days' visit to Wate's father. At

Ulava he found that dysentery had swept off nearly all the natives, and

he thought these races, even while left to themselves, were dying out.

'But,' adds the brave man in his journal, 'I will never, I hope, allow

that because these people are dying out, it is of no use or a waste of

time carrying the Gospel to them. It is, I should rather say, a case

where we ought to be the more anxious to gather up the fragments.'

So he worked on bravely, making it an object, if he could do no more, to

teach enough to give new scholars a start in the school, and to see who

were most worth choosing there. He suffered a little loss of popularity

when it was found that he was not a perpetual fountain of beads,

hatchets, and tobacco, but he did the good work of effecting a

reconciliation between Wango and another village named Hane, where he

made a visit, and heard a song in honour of Taroniara. He was invited

to a great reconciliation feast; which he thus describes, beginning with

his walk to Hane by short marches:--

'We waited where we overtook Taki, until the main body from Wango came

up. They charged past in fine style, looking very well in their holiday

dress, each with his left hand full of spears, and one brandished in the

right. It looked much more like a fighting party than a peace party;

but it is the custom to make peace with the whole army, to convince the

enemy that it is only for his accommodation that they are making peace,

and not because they are afraid to fight him. It was about 12 o'clock

when we reached the rendezvous. There was a fine charge of all, except

a dozen of the more sedate of the party; they rattled their spears, and

ran, and shouted, and jumped, even crossing the stream which was the

neutral ground. We halted by the stream for some time; at last some Hane

people came to their side; there was a charge again almost up to them,

but they took it coolly. At about 10 o'clock the whole body of the Hane

men came, and two or three from Wango went across to them. I was tired

of waiting, and asked Taki if I should go. "Yes, and tell them to bring

the money," he said.

'While I was wading through the stream, the Hane men gathered up and

advanced; I turned back with them. They rushed, brandishing their

spears, to within ten or twelve paces of the Wango party, who had joined

into a compact body, and so seated themselves as soon as they saw the

movement.

'Kara, a Hane man, made his speech, first running forwards and

backwards, shaking his spear all the time; and at the end, he took out

four strings of Makira money, and gave it to Taki. Hane went back across

the stream; and Wango went through the same performance, Taki making the

speech. He seemed a great orator, and went on until one standing by

him said, "That's enough," when he laughed, and gave over. He gave four

strings of money, two shorter than the others, and the shortest was

returned to him, I don't know why; but in this way the peace was

signed.'

After nineteen days, during which the Bishop had been cruising about,

Mr. Atkin and his scholars were picked up again, and likewise Mr.

Brooke, who had been spending ten days at Florida with his scholars,

in all thirty-five; and then ensued a very tedious passage to the

Banks Islands, for the vessel had been crippled by the gale off Norfolk

Island, and could not be pressed; little canvas was carried, and the

weather was unfavourable.

However, on September 6, Mota was safely reached; and great was the joy,

warm the welcome of the natives, who eagerly assisted in unloading the

vessel, through storms of rain and surf.

The old station house was in entire decay; but the orange and lemon

trees were thirty feet high, though only the latter in bearing.

The new village, it was agreed, should bear the name of Kohimarama,

after the old home in New Zealand, meaning, in Maori, 'Focus of Light.'

After landing the goats, the Bishop, Mr. Atkin, and five more crossed

to Valua. They were warmly welcomed at Ara, where their long absence

had made the natives fancy they must all be dead. The parents of Henry,

Lydia, and Edwin were the first to approach the boat, eager to hear

of their children left in Norfolk Island; and the mother walked up the

beach with her arm round Mr. Atkin's neck. But here it appeared that the

vessels of the labour traffic had come to obtain people to work in the

cotton plantations in Queensland, and that they had already begun to

invite them in the name of the Bishop, whose absence they accounted for

by saying his ship had been wrecked, he had broken his leg, he had gone

to England, and sent them to fetch natives to him. No force had been

used as yet, but there was evident dread of them; and one vessel had

a Mota man on board, who persuaded the people to go to Sydney. About

a hundred natives had been taken from the islands of Valua, Ara, and

Matlavo, and from Bligh Island twenty-three were just gone, but Mota's

inaccessibility had apparently protected it. It will be remembered that

it has a high fortification of coral all round the beach, with but one

inconvenient entrance, and that the people are little apt to resort to

canoes. This really has hitherto seemed a special Providence for this

nucleus of Christianity.

They spent the night at Ara, making a fire on the sandy beach, where

they boiled their chocolate, and made gravy of some extract of meat

to season their yam, and supped in public by firelight, reclining upon

mats. Afterwards they went up to the Ogamal, or barrack tent: it was not

an inviting bed-chamber, being so low that they could only kneel upright

in it, and so smoky that Stephen remarked, 'We shall be cooked ourselves

if we stay here,' proving an advance in civilisation. One of the private

houses was equally unattractive, and the party slept on the beach.

The next morning they started to walk round the island: taking two cork

beds, a portmanteau and a basket of provisions; stopping wherever a few

people were found, but it was a thinly peopled place, and the loss of

the men carried off was sensibly felt.

One village had had a fight with a boat's crew from Sydney. They made no

secret of it, saying that they would not have their men taken away; and

they had been sharp enough to pour water into the guns before provoking

the quarrel.

Further on there was a closer population, where the Bishop was

enthusiastically welcomed, and an Ogamal was found, making a good

shelter for the night. Then they returned to Ara, where Mr. Atkin notes,

in the very centre of the island, a curious rock, about 200 feet high,

and on the top, 20 or 30 feet from the nearest visible soil, a she-oak

stump, and two more green and flourishing a little below. The rock was

of black scoriae, too hot in the middle of the day to sit upon, and near

it was a pool of water. 'Such water, so rotten.' The water used by the

visitors had been brought from Auckland. The natives do not trouble

water much, I don't think they ever drink it, and they certainly don't

look as if they ever washed.

On the following day they recrossed to Vanua Lava, where they spent a

quiet calm Sunday in the vessel, landing in the afternoon to see Fisher

Young's grave, which they found well kept and covered with a pretty blue

creeper.

The next Sunday they spent at Kohimarama: beginning with Celebration at

7.30 A.M., and in the afternoon making the circuit of the island, about

ten miles. In one place Mr. Atkin bent over the edge of the natural sea

wall, and saw the sea breaking 150 or 200 feet below!

After a fortnight spent in this manner, he and the other two clergymen

carried off their Melanesians to Norfolk Island, leaving the Bishop to

be fetched away in a month's time. Here is the letter written during his

solitude:--

'Kohimarama, Mota Island: September 23, 1869.

'My dearest Joan and Fan,--Here I am sitting in a most comfortable house

in our new Kohimarama, for so the Melanesians determine to call our

station in Mota. The house is 48 feet by 18, with a 9-foot verandah on

two sides. It has one large room, a partition at each end, one of which

is subdivided into two small sleeping rooms for George and his wife,

and Charles and his wife. There is no ceiling, so that we have the full

advantage of the height of the house, and plenty of ventilation, as

the space beyond where the roof comes down upon the wall plates is left

open.

'The verandah is a grand lounging place; very commodious for school

also, when other classes fill the large room, and a delightful place to

sit or lie about on in this genial warm climate. These bright moonlight

nights are indeed delicious. The mosquito gives no trouble here to speak

of. The cocoa-nut trees, the bread-fruit trees, yam gardens, and many

kinds of native trees and shrubs, are all around us; the fine wooded

hill of Mota shows well over the house. The breeze always plays round

it; and though it is very hot, it is only when the wind comes from

the north and north-west, as in the midsummer, that the heat is of an

oppressive and sickly nature.

'About twenty lads and young men live here, and about forty attend daily

school; but I think there is every indication of all Mota sending its

young people here as soon as we have our crops of yams, &c., &c., to

provide sufficient food. Improved native huts will, I think, soon be

built over our little estate here.

'Many girls I hope to take to Norfolk Island. They could hardly be

brought together with safety to this place yet. The parents see and

admit this, and consent to my taking them. I tell them that their sons

will not marry ignorant heathen girls (their sons I mean who have

been and are still with us); that all the young fellows growing up at

Kohimarama must have educated wives provided for them, and that I must

therefore take away many young girls with me to Norfolk Island. The

fashion here is to buy at an early age young girls for their sons,

though occasionally a girl may be found not already betrothed, but

almost grown up. I now say, "I want to train up wives for my sons," and

the fashion of the place allows of my buying or appropriating them. You

would be amused to see me engaged in this match-making. It is all the

same a very important matter, for clearly it is the best way to secure,

as I trust, the introduction of Christian family life among these

people.

'George and I are satisfied that things are really very promising here.

Of course, much old heathen ignorance, and much that is very wrong, will

long survive. So you recollect perhaps old Joe (great-Uncle Edward's

coachman) declaring that C. S. as a witch, and there is little proof of

practical Christianity in the morals of our peasants of the west, and of

Wales especially.

'It is not that one should acquiesce in what is wrong here, but one

ought not to be surprised at it. Public opinion, the constraint of law,

hereditary notions, are more effective in preventing the outbreak of

evil passions into criminal acts in very many cases and districts in

England.

'Now these restraints are, indeed, indirect consequences of

Christianity, but do not imply any religion in the individuals who are

influenced by them. These restraints don't exist here. If they did, I

think these Mota people now would live just as orderly decent lives as

average English folk. Christianity would not be a vigorous power in the

one case or in the other. Exceptional cases would occur here and there.

'If I am asked for proofs of the "conversion" of this people, I should

say, "Conversion from what to what?" and then I should say, "Ask any

close observer in England about the commercial and social morality

existing in not only the most ignorant ranks of society: how much is

merely formal, and therefore, perhaps, actually detrimental to a true

spirit of religion!" Here you don't find much that you associate with

religion in England, in the external observances of it; but there are

not a few ignorant people (I am not speaking of our trained scholars)

who are giving up their old habits, adopting new ways, accepting a

stricter mode of life, foregoing advantages of one kind and another,

because they believe that this "Good news," this Gospel, is true, and

because the simple truths of Christianity are, thank God, finding some

entrance into their hearts.

'I dread the imposition from without of some formal compliances with the

externals of religion while I know that the meaning and spirit of

them cannot as yet be understood. Can there be conceived anything more

formal, more mischievous, than inculcating a rigid Sabbatarian view of

the Lord's Day upon a people who don't know anything about the Cross

and the Resurrection? Time enough to talk about the observance when

the people have some knowledge of the vital living truth of a spiritual

religion.

'So about clothing. If I tried to do it, I think I could make the people

here buy, certainly accept, and wear, clothing. With what result at

present? That they would think that wearing a yard of unbleached calico

was a real evidence of the reception of the new teaching.

'Such things are, in this stage of Mission work, actually hurtful. The

mind naturally takes in and accepts the easy outward form, and by such

treatment you actually encourage it to do so, and to save itself the

trouble of thinking out the real meaning and teaching which must of

course be addressed to the spirit.

'These outward things all follow as a matter of course after a time, as

consequences of the new power and light felt in the soul; but they may

be so spoken of as to become substitutes for the true spiritual life,

and train up a people in hypocrisy.

'I beg your pardon really for parading all these truisms. Throw it in

the fire.

'I don't for a moment mean or think that religion is to be taught by

mere prudence and common sense. But a spiritual religion is imperilled

the moment that you insist upon an unspiritual people observing outward

forms which are to them the essence of the new teaching. Anything

better than turning heathens into Pharisees! What did our Lord call the

proselytes of the Pharisee and the Scribe?

'And while I see and love the beauty of the outward form when it is

known and felt to be no more than the shrine of the inward spiritual

power; while I know that for highly advanced Christians, or for persons

trained in accurate habits of thought, all that beauty of holiness is

needful; yet I think I see that the Divine wisdom of the Gospel would

guard the teacher against presenting the formal side of religion to the

untaught and ignorant convert. "God is a Spirit, and they that worship

Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth," is the great lesson for

the heathen mind chained down as it is to things of sense.

'"He that hateth his brother is a murderer:" not the outward act, but

the inward motive justifies or condemns the man. Every day convinces

me more and more of the need of a different mode of teaching than

that usually adopted for imperfectly taught people. How many of your

(ordinary) parishioners even understand the simple meaning of the

Prayer-book, nay, of their well-known (as they think) Gospel miracles

and parables? Who teaches in ordinary parishes the Christian use of the

Psalms? Who puts simply before peasant and stone-cutter the Jew and his

religion, and what he and it were intended to be, and the real error and

sin and failure?--the true nature of prophecy, the progressive teaching

of the Bible, never in any age compromising truth, but never ignoring

the state, so often the unreceptive state, of those to whom the truth

must therefore be presented partially, and in a manner adapted to rude

and unspiritual natures? What an amount of preparatory teaching is

needed! What labour must be spent in struggling to bring forth things

new and old, and present things simply before the indolent, unthinking,

vacant mind! How much need there is of a more special training of the

Clergy even now! Many men are striving nobly to do all this. But think

of the rubbish that most of us chuck lazily out of our minds twice a

week without method or order. It is such downright hard work to teach

well. Oh! how weary it makes me to try. I feel as if I were at once

aware of what should be attempted, and yet quite unable to do it!

'St. Michael's Day.--[After an affectionate review of most of his

relations at home.]--When the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn pressed me a good

deal to go with them to England, it obliged me a little to analyse my

feelings. You won't suspect me of any want of longing to see you, when

I say that it never was a doubtful matter to me for five minutes. I saw

nothing to make me wish to go to England in comparison with the crowd

of reasons for not doing so. They, good people, thought it would be rest

and refreshment to me. Little they know how a man so unlike them takes

his rest! I am getting it here, hundreds of miles out of reach of any

white man or woman, free from what is to me the bother of society. I am

not defending myself; but it is true that to me it is a bore, the very

opposite of rest, to be in society. I like a good talk with Sir William

Martin above anything, but I declare that even that is dearly purchased

by the other accompaniments of society.

'And I could not spend a quiet month with you at Weston. I should have

people calling, the greatest of all nuisances, except that of having

to go out to dinner. I should have to preach, and perhaps to go to

meetings, all in the way of my business, but not tending to promote

rest.

'Seriously, I am very well now; looking, I am sure, and feeling stronger

and stouter than I was in New Zealand in the winter. So don't fret

yourself about me, and don't think that I shouldn't dearly love to chat

awhile with you. What an idle, lazy letter. You see I am taking my rest

with you, writing without effort.'

He was looking well. Kohimarama must be more healthily situated than the

first station, for all his three visits there were beneficial to him;

and there seems to have been none of the tendency to ague and low fever

which had been the trouble of the first abode.

Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice came back in the schooner early in October,

and were landed at Mota, while the Bishop went for a cruise in the New

Hebrides; but the lateness of the season and the state of the vessel

made it a short one, and he soon came back with thirty-five boys.

Meanwhile, a small harmonium, which was to be left with the Christian

settlement, had caused such an excitement that Mr. Bice was nearly

squeezed to death by the crowds that came to hear it. He played nearly

all day to successive throngs of men, but when the women arrived, they

made such a clatter that he was fain to close the instrument. Unbleached

calico clothing had been made for such of the young ladies as were to be

taken on board for Norfolk Island, cut out by the Bishop and made up by

Robert, William, and Benjamin, his scholars; and Mr. Codrington says,

'It was an odd sight to see the Bishop on the beach with the group of

girls round him, and a number of garments over his arm. As each bride

was brought by her friends, she was clothed and added to the group.

'Esthetically, clothes were no improvement. "A Melanesian clothed,"

the Bishop observes, "never looks well; there is almost always a stiff,

shabby-genteel look. A good specimen, not disfigured by sores and

ulcers, the well-shaped form, the rich warm colour of the skin, and

the easy, graceful play of every limb, unhurt by shoe or tight-fitting

dress, the flower stuck naturally into the hair, &c., make them look

pleasant enough to my eye. You see in Picture Bibles figures draped as I

could wish the Melanesians to be clothed."'

To continue Mr. Codrington's recollections of this stay in Mota:--

'I remember noticing how different his manner was from what was common

at home. His eyes were cast all about him, keeping a sharp look-out, and

all his movements and tones were quick and decisive. In that steaming

climate, and those narrow paths, he walked faster than was at all

agreeable to his companions, and was dressed moreover in a woollen coat

and waistcoat all the time. In fact, he thoroughly enjoyed the heat,

though no doubt it was weakening him; he liked the food, which gave him

no trouble at all to eat, and he liked the natives.

'He felt, of course, that he was doing his work all the while; but the

expression of his countenance was very different while sitting with a

party of men over their food at Mota, and when sitting with a party in

Norfolk Island.

'The contrast struck me very much between his recluse studious life

there, and his very active one at Mota, with almost no leisure to read,

and very little to write, and with an abundance of society which was a

pleasure instead of a burthen.

'I think that the alert and decisive tone and habit which was so

conspicuous in the islands, and came out whenever he was roused, was not

natural to his disposition, but had been acquired in early years in a

public school, and faded down in the quiet routine of St. Barnabas, and

was recalled as occasion required with more effort as time went on. No

doubt, his habitual gentleness made his occasional severity more felt,

but at Mota his capacity for scolding was held in respect. I was told

when I was last there, that I was no good, for I did not know how to

scold, but that the Bishop perfectly well understood how to do it.

Words certainly would never fail him in twenty languages to express his

indignation, but how seldom among his own scholars had he to do it in

one!'

This voyage is best summed up in the ensuing letter to one of the

Norfolk relations:--

'"Southern Cross" Schooner, 20 miles East of Star Island.

'My dear Cousin,--We are drawing near the end of a rather long cruise,

as I trust, in safety. We left Norfolk Island on the 24th June, and we

hope to reach it in about ten days. We should have moved about in less

time, but for the crippled state of the schooner. She fell in with a

heavy gale off Norfolk Island about June 20th-23rd; and we have been

obliged to be very careful of our spars, which were much strained.

Indeed, we still need a new mainmast, main boom, and gaff, a main

topmast, foretopmast, and probably new wire rigging, besides repairs of

other kinds, and possibly new coppering. Thank God, the voyage has been

so far safe, and, on the whole, prosperous. We sailed first of all to

the Banks Islands, only dropping two lads at Ambrym Island on our way.

We spent a week or more at Mota, while the vessel was being overhauled

at the harbour in Vanua Lava Island, seven miles from Mota. It was a

great relief to us to get the house for the station at Mota out of the

vessel, the weight of timber, &c., was too much for a vessel not built

for carrying freight. After a few days we left Mr. Palmer, George

Sarawia, and others at Mota, busily engaged in putting up the house, a

very serious matter for us, as you may suppose.

'Our party was made up of Mr. Atkin, Mr. Brooke, and two Mota volunteers

for boat work, and divers Solomon Islanders. We were absent from Mota

about seven years, during which time we visited Santa Cruz, and many of

the Solomon Isles. Mr. Atkin spent three weeks in one of the isles,

and Mr. Brooke in another, and we had more than thirty natives of the

Solomon Islands on board, including old scholars, when we left Ulava,

the last island of the Solomon group at which we called.

'Mr. Palmer, Mr. Atkin, and Mr. Brooke went on to Norfolk Island, the

whole number of Melanesians on board being sixty-two. I had spent a very

happy month at Mota when the vessel returned from Norfolk Island

both with Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice on board, bringing those of the

Melanesians (nearly thirty in all) who chose to stay on Norfolk Island.

Then followed a fortnight's cruise in the New Hebrides, and now with

exactly fifty Melanesians on board from divers islands, we are on our

way to Norfolk Island. We have fourteen girls, two married, on board,

and there are ten already at Norfolk Island. This is an unusual number;

but the people understand that the young men and lads who have been

with us for some time, who are baptized and accustomed to decent orderly

ways, are not going to marry heathen wild girls, so they give up these

young ones to be taught and qualify to become fit wives for our rapidly

increasing party of young men.

'It is quite clear that we must aim at exhibiting, by God's blessing,

Christian family life in the islands, and this can only be done by

training up young men and women.

'Three married couples, all Communicants, live now at Kohimarama, the

station at Mota. George has two children, Benjamin one. It is already

a small specimen of a little Christian community, and it must be

reinforced, year by year, by accessions of new couples of Christian men

and women.

'About twenty lads live at the station, and about forty more come daily

to school. It may grow soon into a real working school, from which the

most intelligent and best conducted boys may be taken to Norfolk Island

for a more complete education. I am hopeful about a real improvement in

Mota and elsewhere.

'But a new difficulty has lately been caused by the traders from Sydney

and elsewhere, who have taken many people to work in the plantations

at Brisbane, Mimea, (New Caledonia), and the Fiji Islands, actual

kidnapping, and this is a sad hindrance to us. I know of no case of

actual violence in the Banks Islands; but in every case, they took

people away under false pretences, asserting that "the Bishop is ill

and can't come; he has sent us to bring you to him." "The Bishop is in

Sydney, he broke his leg getting into his boat, and has sent us to take

you to him," &c., &c. In many of these places some of our old scholars

are found who speak a little English, and the traders communicated with

them.

'In most places where any of our young people happened to be on shore,

they warned their companions against these men, but not always with

success. Hindrances there must be always in the way of all attempts to

do some good. But this is a sad business, and very discreditable to the

persons employed in it and the Government which sanctions it, for they

must know that they cannot control the masters of the vessels engaged

in the trade; they may pass laws as to the treatment the natives are to

receive on the plantations, as to food, pay, &c., the time of service,

the date of their being taken home, but they know that the whole thing

is dishonest. The natives don't intend or know anything about any

service or labour; they don't know that they will have to work hard, and

any regular steady work is hard work to South Sea Islanders. They are

brought away under false pretences, else why tell lies to induce them to

go on board?

'I dare say that many young fellows go on board without much persuasion.

Many causes may be at work to induce them to do so, e.g., sickness in

the island, quarrels, love of excitement, spirit of enterprise, &c., but

if they knew what they were taken for, I don't think they would go.

'November 2nd.--In sight of Norfolk Island. All well on board.

'November 6th.--Yesterday we all landed safely, and found our whole

party quite well. Our new hall is finished, and in good time to receive

134 Melanesians.'

Before the full accumulation of letters arrived from Auckland, a report

by a passing ship from Sydney stirred the hermit Bishop deeply, and

elicited the following warm congratulation:--

'Norfolk Island: November 17, 1869.

'My dear Dr. Moberly,--Since my return--a fortnight since--from the

islands a rumour has reached us, brought hither in a small trader, that

the Bishop of Winchester has resigned his see, and that you are his

successor. It is almost too good to be true. I am waiting with great

anxiety for a vessel expected soon; I have had no English news since

letters of April. But in all seriousness, private news is of small

moment compared with the news of what is to become of that great

Diocese. And especially now, when almost all the south of England is so

sadly in want of officers to command the Church's army. Exeter, Bath and

Wells, Salisbury, Chichester (very old), and till now (if this rumour be

true) Winchester, from old age or sickness almost, if not quite, unfit

for work. If indeed I hear that God's Providence has placed you in

charge of that great see, it will give a different hue to the prospect,

dreary enough, I confess, to me; though I hope I am mistaken in my

gloomy forebodings of the results of all those many Dioceses being

so long without active Bishops. Salisbury of course I except, and

Chichester is a small Diocese comparatively, and the good Bishop, I

know, works up to the maximum of his age and strength. But if this be a

true rumour, and I do sincerely trust and pray that it may be so, indeed

it will give hope and courage and fresh life and power to many and many

a fainting soul. If I may presume to say so, it is (as Mrs. Selwyn wrote

to me when he was appointed to Lichfield) "a solemn and anxious thing

to undertake a great charge on the top of such great expectations." But

already there is one out here anyhow who feels cheered and strengthened

by the mere hope that this story is true; and everywhere many anxious

men and women will lift up their hearts to God in thankfulness, and in

earnest prayers that you may indeed do a great work to His glory and to

the good of His Church in a new and even greater sphere of usefulness.

No doubt much of my thoughts and apprehensions about the religious and

social state of England is very erroneous. I have but little time

for reading about what is going on, and though I have the blessing of

Codrington's good sense and ability, yet I should like to have more

persons to learn from on such matters. I am willing and anxious to

believe that I am not cheerful and faithful enough to see the bright

side as clearly as I ought. Your letters have always been a very great

help to me; not only a great pleasure, much more than a pleasure. I felt

that I accepted, occasionally even that I had anticipated, your remarks

on the questions of the day, the conduct of parties and public men,

books, &c. It has been a great thing for me to have my thoughts guided

or corrected in this way.

'Your last present to me was your volume of "Bampton Lectures," of which

I need not say how both the subject and the mode of treating it make

them especially valuable just now. And there is a strong personal

feeling about the work and writings of one where the public man is

also the private friend, which gives a special zest to the enjoyment of

reading a work of this kind.

'Certainly it is one of the many blessings of my life that I should

somehow have been allowed to grow into this degree of intimacy with you,

whom I have always known by name, though I don't remember ever to have

seen you. I think I first as a child became familiar with your name

through good Miss Rennell, whom I dare say you remember: the old Dean's

daughter. What a joy this would have been to dear Mr. and Mrs. Keble;

what a joy it is to Charlotte Yonge; and there may be others close to

Winchester whose lives have been closely bound tip with yours.

'But, humanly speaking, the thing is to have Bishops who can command the

respect and love and dutiful obedience of their clergy and laity alike.

'One wants men who, by solid learning, and by acquaintance too with

modern modes of criticism and speculation, by scholarship, force of

character, largeness of mind, as well as by their goodness, can secure

respect and exercise authority. It is the lawlessness of men that

one deplores; the presumption of individual priests striking out for

themselves unauthorised ways of managing their parishes and officiating

in their churches. And, if I may dare to touch on such a subject, is

there not a mode of speaking and writing on the Holy Eucharist prevalent

among some men now, which has no parallel in the Church of England,

except, it may be, in some of the non-jurors, and which does not express

the Church of England's mind; which is not the language of Pearson, and

Jackson, and Waterland, and Hooker, no, nor of Bull, and Andrewes, and

Taylor, &c.? I know very little of such things--very little indeed.

But it is oftentimes a sad grief to me that I cannot accept some of the

reasonings and opinions of dear Mr. Keble in his book on "Eucharistic

Adoration." I know that I have no right to expect to see things as such

a man saw them: that most probably the instinctive power of discerning

truth--the reward of a holy life from early childhood--guided him where

men without such power feel all astray. But yet, there is something

about the book which may be quite right and true, but does not to me

quite savour of the healthy sound theology of the Church of England;

the fragrance is rather that of an exotic plant; here and there I

mean--though I feel angry with myself for daring to think this, and to

say it to you, who can understand him.

'November 27th.--I leave this as I wrote it, though now I know from our

mails, which have come to us, that you are Bishop of Salisbury, not

of Winchester. I hardly stop to think whether it is Winchester or

Salisbury, so great is my thankfulness and joy at the report being

substantially true. Though it did seem that Winchester was a natural

sphere for you, I can't help feeling that at Salisbury you can do (D.V.)

what perhaps scarcely any one else could do. And now I rejoice that you

have had the opportunity of speaking with no uncertain sound in your

"Bampton Lectures." Anyone can tell what the Bishop of Salisbury holds

on the great questions of Church Doctrine and Church Government. The

diocese knows already its Bishop, not only by many former but by his

latest book. Surely you will have the confidence of all Churchmen, and

be blessed to do a great work for the glory of God and the edification

of the Church.

'And now, my dear Bishop of Salisbury, you will excuse my writing on

so freely, too freely I fear. I do like to think of you in that most

perfect of Cathedrals. I hope and trust that you will have ere long,

right good fellow-workers in Exeter, Winton, and Bath and Wells.

'But in the colonies you have a congeries of men from all countries, and

with every variety of creed, jumbled up together, with nothing whatever

to hold them together--no reverence--no thoughts of the old parish

church, &c. They are restless, worldly people to a great extent,

thinking of getting on, making money. To such men the very idea of the

Church as a Divine Institution, the mystical Body of the Lord, on which

all graces are bestowed, and through whose ministrations men are trained

in holiness and truth, is wholly unknown. The personal religion of many

a man is sincere; his position and duty as a Churchman he has never

thought about. I wish the clergy would master that part, at all events,

of your Lectures which deals with this great fundamental point, and

then, as they have opportunity, teach it to their people. And by-and-by,

through the collective life of the Church in its synods, &c., many will

come to see it, we may hope.

'I think that I may give you a cheering account of ourselves. I was

nineteen weeks in the islands--met with no adventures worth mentioning,

only one little affair which was rather critical for a few minutes, but

ended very well--and in some of the Solomon Islands made more way than

heretofore with the people. We have 134 Melanesians here and a baby.

George Sarawia and his wife and two children, and two other married

couples--all Communicants--are at Mota, in a nice place, with some

twenty-two lads "boarding" with them, and about thirty more coming to

daily school.

'The vessel was much knocked about in a violent gale in June off Norfolk

Island, and we had to handle her very carefully. The whole voyage was

made with a mainmast badly sprung, and fore topmast very shaky. Mr.

Tilly was very watchful over the spars, and though we had a large share

of squally weather, and for some days, at different times, were becalmed

in a heavy swell, the most trying of all situations to the gear of a

vessel, yet, thank God, all went well, and I have heard of the schooner

safe in Auckland harbour. About forty of our Melanesians here are

Solomon Islanders, from seven different islands; a few came from the New

Hebrides, the rest from the Banks Islands. We are already pretty well

settled down to our work. Indeed, it took only a day or two to get

to work; our old scholars are such great helpers to us. We number six

clergymen here (G. Sarawia being at Mota). Ten or twelve of the sixth

form are teachers. If you care to hear more; I must refer you to a

letter just written to Miss Yonge. But it is not easy to write details

about 134 young people. Their temptations are very great when they

return to their islands; every inducement to profligacy, &c., is held

out to them. One of our young baptized lads fell into sinful ways, and

is not now with us. He was not one of whom we had great expectations,

though we trusted that he would go on steadily. Many others, thank God,

were kept pure and truthful in the midst of it all, refusing even to

sleep one night away from our little hut, and in some cases refusing

even to leave the schooner. "No, I will wait till I am married," said

two lads to me, who were married here to Christian girls on November

24th, "and then go ashore for a time with my young wife. I don't think

I should yield, but I don't want to put myself in the way of such

temptations." And so, when I had naturally expected that they would take

their six weeks' holiday on shore, while the "Southern Cross" went from

Mota to Norfolk Island and back (during my stay at Mota), they remained

on board, rejoining me, as they were two of my boating crew, for the

New Hebrides trip! This was very comforting. And when I married three

couples on November 24th, and knew that they were pure, youths and girls

alike, from the great sin of heathenism, you can well think that my

heart was very full of thankfulness and hope.

'I must end my long letter. How will you find time to read it? Send me

some day a photograph of your beautiful Cathedral.

'Yours very faithfully,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

Before the letter to which Bishop Moberly is referred, Mr. Codrington's

bit about the weddings seems appropriate:--

'These wedding days were great festivals, especially before many had

been seen. The Chapel was dressed with flowers, the wedding party in

as new and cheerful attire as could be procured, the English Marriage

Service translated into Mota. We make rings out of sixpences or

threepenny bits. The place before is full of the sound of the hammer

tapping the silver on the marlingspike. The wedding ceremony is

performed with as much solemnity as possible, all the school present in

their new clothes and with flowers in their hair. There is even a kind

of processional Psalm as the wedding party enters the Chapel. There is

of course a holiday, and after the service they all go off, taking with

them the pig that has been killed for the feast. An enormous quantity of

plum pudding awaits them when, in the evening, they come back to prayers

and supper. Rounds of hearty cheers, led off by the Bishop, used

to complete the day. Weddings of this kind between old scholars,

christened, confirmed, and trustworthy, represented much anxiety and

much teaching and expense, but they promise so much, and that so near of

what has been worked for, that they have brought with them extraordinary

pleasure and satisfaction.'

'Norfolk Island: November 24, 1869.

'My dear Cousin,--To-day we married three young couples: the

bridegrooms. Robert Pantatun, William Pasvorang, and Marsden Sawa, who

have been many years with us, and are all Communicants; the brides,

Emily Milerauwe, Lydia Lastitia, and Rhoda Titrakrauwe, who were

baptized a year ago.

'The Chapel was very prettily dressed up with lilies and many other

flowers. The bridegrooms wore white trousers, shirts, &c., the brides

wore pretty simple dresses and flowers in their hair. We crowded as many

persons as possible into our little Chapel. Mr. Nobbs and some ten

or twelve of our Pitcairn friends were all the visitors that we could

manage to make room for.

'Great festivities followed, a large pig was killed yesterday and eaten

to-day, and Mr. Palmer had manufactured puddings without end, a new kind

of food to many of the present set of scholars, but highly appreciated

by most of them. Then followed in the evening native dances and songs,

and a supper to end with, with cheers for the brides and bridegrooms.

'There are now six married couples here, three more at Mota, and one or

two more weddings will take place soon. Very fortunately, a vessel came

from Auckland only three or four days ago, the first since the "Southern

Cross," in June, It brought not only five mails for us English folk,

but endless packages and boxes for the Mission, ordered by us long ago,

stores, clothing, &c. We had all ordered more or less in the way of

presents for scholars, and though we keep most of these treasures for

Christmas gifts, yet some are distributed now.

'These presents are for the most part really good things. It is quite

useless for kind friends to send presents to Melanesians as they would

do to an English lad or girl. To begin with, most of our scholars are

grown up, and are more like English young people of twenty or eighteen

years old than like boys and girls, and not a few are older still; and

secondly, no Melanesian, old or young, cares a rush about a toy. They,

boys and girls, men and women, take a practical view of a present, and

are the very reverse of sentimental about it, though they really do like

a photograph of a friend. But a mere Brummagem article that won't stand

wear is quite valueless in their eyes.

'Whatever is given them, cheap or dear, is estimated according to its

usefulness; and whatever is given, though it may cost but a shilling,

must be good of its kind. For example, a rough-handled, single-bladed

knife, bought for a shilling, they fully appreciate; but a knife with

half-a-dozen blades, bought for eighteen-pence, they would almost throw

away. And so about everything else. I mention this as a hint to kind

friends. They do like to hear that people think of them and are kind to

them, but they don't understand why useless things should be sent from

the other end of the world when they could buy much better things with

their own money out of the mission store here.

'They are very fond of anything in the way of notebooks, 8vo and 12mo

sizes (good paper), writing-cases (which must be good if given at all),

patent safety inkstands--these things are useful on board ship, and can

be carried to the islands and brought back again safely. Work-baskets

or boxes for the girls, with good serviceable needles, pins, thread,

scissors, thimbles, tapes, &c. &c., not a plaything. Here we can buy for

them, or keep in the store for them to buy, many things that are much

too bulky to send from a distance, the freight would be ruinous. The

"Southern Cross" brings them usually to us. Such things I mean as good

carpet-bags, from 5s. to 10s., stout tin boxes with locks and keys,

axes, tools, straw hats, saucepans, good strong stuff (tweed or

moleskin) for trousers and shirts, which they cut out and make up for

themselves, quite understanding the inferior character of "slop" work,

good flannel for under-shirts, or for making up into Crimean shirts,

Nottingham drill, good towelling, huckaback, &c., ought to be

worth while to send out, and if bought in large quantities at the

manufacturer's, it would pay us to get it in England, especially if the

said manufacturer reduced the price a little in consequence of the use

to be made of his goods.

'Dull small blue beads are always useful, ditto red. Bright glittering

ones are no use, few Melanesians would take them as a gift. Some

islanders like large beads, as big or bigger than boys' marbles. These

are some hints to any kind people who may wish to contribute in kind

rather than in money.

'Mr. Codrington has given these fellows a great taste for gardening.

Much of their spare hours (which are not many) are spent in digging up,

fencing in and preparing little pieces of land close about the station,

two or three lads generally making up a party, and frequently the party

consists of lads and young men from different islands. Then they have

presents of seeds, cuttings, bulbs, &c., from Mr. Codrington chiefly,

and Mrs. Palmer and others contribute. Some of these little gardens are

really very nicely laid out in good taste and well looked after. They

have an eye to the practically useful here too, as every garden has its

stock of bananas, and here and there we see the sugar-cane too.

'From 3.30 P.M. to 6 P.M. is the play time, although they do not all

have this time to themselves. For three lads must milk from 5 to 6, one

or two must drive in the cows, seven or eight are in the kitchen, three

or four must wash the horses, one must drive the sheep into the

fold, all but the milkers have only their one week of these diverse

occupations. There are about twelve head cooks, who choose their helpers

(the whole school, minus the milkers and two or three overlookers, being

included), and so the cooking work comes only once in twelve weeks. The

cooks of the one week drive up the cows and water the horses the next

week, and then there is no extra work, that is, nothing but the

regular daily work from 9.30 A.M. after school to 1 P.M. Wednesday is

a half-holiday, Saturday a whole holiday. There are six milkers, one of

whom is responsible for the whole. One receives 2s. 0d. per week, his

chief mate 1s. 6d., and the other four 1s. each. They take it in turns,

three each week. This is the hardest work in one sense; it brings them

in from their play and fishing, or gardening, &c., and so they are paid

for it. We do not approve of the white man being paid for everything,

and the Melanesian being expected to work habitually extra hours for

nothing. There are many other little extra occupations for which we take

care that those engaged in them shall have some reward, and as a

matter of fact a good deal of money finds its way into the hands of the

storekeeper, and a very fair amount of 3d., 4d. and 6d. pieces may be

seen every Sunday in the offertory bason.

'Perhaps I should say that we have seldom seen here any indications of

these Melanesians expecting money or presents; but we want to destroy

the idea in their minds of their being fags by nature, and to help them

to have some proper self-respect and independence of character. We see

very little in them to make us apprehensive of their being covetous or

stingy, and indisposed to give service freely.

'School hours 8-9.20, 2-3.30, singing 7-8 P.M., chapel 6.45 A.M., 6.30

P.M.

'Of the 134 Melanesians, besides the baby, ten are teachers, and with

their help we get on very fairly. There are sixteen of us teachers in

all, so that the classes are not too large.

'Mr. Codrington takes at present the elder Banks Islanders, Mr. Palmer

the next class, and Mr. Bice the youngest set of boys from the same

group.

'Mr. Atkin takes the Southern Solomon Islanders, and Mr. Brooke those

from the northern parts of the same group. I have been taking some

Leper's Islanders and Maiwo or Aurora Islanders as new comers, and other

classes occasionally.

'Out of so many we shall weed out a good number no doubt. At present we

don't condemn any as hopelessly dull, but it will not be worth while to

spend much time upon lads who in five months must go home for good, and

some such there must be; we cannot attempt to teach all, dull and clever

alike. We must make selections, and in so doing often, I dare say, make

mistakes. But what can we do?

'Our new hall is a great success. We had all the framework sawn out

here; it is solid, almost massive work, very unlike the flimsy wooden

buildings that are run up in a week or two in most colonial villages.

It is so large that our party of 145, plus 9 English, sit in the aisles

without occupying any part of the middle of the room. This gives us

ample accommodation for the present. Indeed we might increase our

numbers to 200 without any more buildings being necessary. The married

people give the most trouble in this respect, as they have their

separate rooms, and four or five married couples take up more room than

three times the number of single folk. However we have here room for

all, I am thankful to say, though we must build again if more of our

young people take it into their heads to be married. They pass on

quickly, however, when married, into the next stage, the life in their

own islands, and so they leave their quarters here for some successors.

'I hope you can understand this attempt at a description, but I never

could write properly about such things, and never shall do so, I

suppose. I like the life, I know, a great deal better than I can write

about it. Indeed, it is a quiet restful life here, comparatively. Some

anxieties always, of course, but, as compared with the distractions of

New Zealand life, it is pleasant indeed. We have very few interruptions

here to the regular employment of our time, and need not waste any of

it in visits or small talk, which seems to be a necessary, though most

wearisome part of civilised life.

'Your namesake goes on well; not a clever girl, but very steady and

good; her sister and brother are here; the sisters are much alike

in character and ability, the brother is sharper. You will, I know,

specially think of George Sarawia and his wife Sarah at Mota, with

Charles and Ellen, Benjamin and Marion. They are all Communicants,

but the temptations which surround them are very great, and early

familiarity with heathen practices and modes of thought may yet deaden

the conscience to the quick apprehension of the first approaches of sin.

They do indeed need the earnest prayers of all.

'Your affectionate Cousin,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

How many sons who have lost a mother at fifteen or sixteen dwell on the

thought like this affectionate spirit, twenty-seven years later?

'Advent Sunday, November 20, 1869.

'It is a solemn thing to begin a new year on the anniversary of our dear

Mother's death. I often think whether she would approve of this or that

opinion, action, &c. Wright's painting is pleasant to look upon. I stand

in a corner of my room, at father's old mahogany desk. Her picture and

his, the large framed photographs from Richmond's drawing, and a good

photograph of the Bishop are just above. I wish you could see my room. I

write now on December 3, a bright summer day, but my room with its

deep verandah is cool and shady. It is true that I refuse carpet and

curtains. They only hold dust and make the room fusty. But the whole

room is filled with books, and those pictures, and the Lionardo da Vinci

over the fireplace, and Mr. Boxall's photograph over it, and his

drawing vis-a-vis to it at the other end of the room, and by my window a

splendid gloxinia with fine full flowers out in a very pretty porcelain

pot, both Mr. Codrington's gift. On another glass stand (also his

present) a Mota flower imported here, a brilliant scarlet hibiscus,

and blossoms of my creepers and bignonia, most beautiful. So fresh

and pretty. The steps of the verandah are a mass of honeysuckle. The

stephanotis, with the beautiful scented white flowers and glossy leaves,

covers one of the posts. How pleasant it is. Everyone is kind, all are

well, all are going on well just now. Such are missionary comforts.

Where the hardships are I have not yet discovered. Your chain, dear

Joan, is round my neck, and the locket (Mamma's) in which you, Fan, put

the hair of you five, hangs on it.

'I am dipping my pen into the old silver inkstand which used to be in

the front drawing-room. Every morning at about 5 A.M. I have a cup

of tea or coffee, and use Grandmamma Coleridge's old-fashioned silver

cream-jug, and the cup and saucer which Augusta sent out years ago,

my old christening spoon, and the old silver tea-pot and salver. Very

grand, but I like the old things.

'This day fortnight (D.V.) I ordain J. Atkin and C. H. Brooke Priests.

'I have no time to answer your April and September letters. I rejoice

with all my heart to hear of Dr. Moberly's appointment. What a joyful

event for Charlotte Yonge. That child Pena sent me Shairp's (dear old

Shairp) book, which I wanted. I must write to Sophy as soon as I can.

You will forgive if I have seemed to be, or really have been, unmindful

of your sorrows and anxieties. Sometimes I think I am in too great a

whirl to think long enough to realise and enter into all your doings.

'Your loving Brother,

'J. C. P.'

The intended letter to Mrs. Martyn was soon written. The death there

referred to was that of Mrs. William Coleridge, widow of the Bishop of

Barbadoes:--

'Norfolk Island: December 14, 1869.

'My dear Sophy,--I should be specially thinking of you as Christmas

draws nigh with its blessed thoughts, and hopes, and the St. Stephen's

memories in any case I should be thinking of you. But now I have lately

received your long loving letter of last Eastertide, partly written in

bed.

Then your dear child's illness makes me think greatly (and how

lovingly!) of you three of the three generations. Lastly, I hear of dear

Aunt William's death. You know that I had a very great affection for

her, and I feel that this is a great blow probably to you all, though

dear Aunty (as I have noticed in all old persons, especially when good

as well as old) takes this quietly, I dare say. The feeling must be,

"Well, I shall soon meet her again; a few short days only remain."

'I suppose that you, with your quarter of a century's widowhood, still

feel as if the waiting time was all sanctified by the thought of the

reunion. Oh! what a thought it is: too much almost to think that by

His wonderful mercy, one may hope to be with them all, and for ever;

to behold the faces of Apostles, and Apostolic men, and Prophets, and

Saints, holy men and women; and, as if this were not enough, to see

Him as He is, in His essential perfections, and to know Him. One can't

sustain the effort of such a thought, which shows how great a change

must pass on one before the great Consummation. Well, the more one can

think of dear Father and Mother, and dear dear Uncle James and Uncle

Frank, and Cousin George, and Uncle and Aunt William, others too, uncles

and aunts, and your dear Fanny, and your husband, though it would be

untrue to say I knew him, taken so early--the more one thinks of them

all the better. And I have, Sophy, so many very different ones to think

of Edwin and Fisher, and so many Melanesians taken away in the very

first earnestness and simplicity of a new convert's faith. How many have

died in my arms--God be thanked--in good hope!

'If by His great mercy there be a place for me there, I feel persuaded

that I shall there find many of those dear lads, whom indeed I think of

with a full heart, full of affection and thankfulness.

'I have been reading the "Memoir of Mr. Keble," of course with extreme

interest. It is all about events and chiefly about persons that one has

heard about or even known. I think we get a little autobiography of our

dear Uncle John in it too, for which I don't like it the less.

There are passages, as against going to Borne, which I am glad to see in

print; they are wanted now again, I fear. I am glad you like Moberly's

"Bampton Lectures." His book on "The Great Forty Days," his best

book (?) after all, has the germ of it all. I am so thankful for his

appointment to Salisbury. I dare say you know that he is kind enough to

write to me occasionally; and he sends me his books, one of the greatest

of the indirect blessings of being known to Mr. Keble. I do very little

in the way of reading, save that I get a quiet hour for Hebrew, 5-6

A.M., and I do read some theology. In one sense it is easier reading to

me than other books, history, poetry, because, though I don't know much

about it, I know nothing about them.

'My pleasure would be, if with you, in talking over such little insight

as I may have received into the wondrous harmony and symmetry of the

whole Bible, by tolerably close examination of the text of the Greek,

and to some extent of the Hebrew. The way in which a peculiar word

brings a whole passage or argument en rapport with a train of historical

associations or previous statements is wonderful; e.g., the verb of

which Moses is formed occurs only in Exodus ii. 10, 2 Samuel xxii. 17,

Psalm xviii. 16. See how the magnificent description of the Passage of

the Red Sea in Psalm xviii. is connected with Moses by this one word.

These undesigned coincidences, and (surely) proofs of inspiration are

innumerable.

'I do delight in it: only I want more help, far more. We have great

advantages in this generation. Dear Uncle James had no Commentary,

one might almost say, on Old Testament or New Testament. Ellicott,

Wordsworth, and Alford on the New Testament were not in existence; and

the Germans, used with discrimination, are great helps. An orthodox

Lutheran, one Delitzsch (of whom Liddon wrote that Dr. Pusey thinks

highly of his Hebrew scholarship), helps me much in Isaiah. He has

sucked all the best part out of Vitringa's enormous book, and added

much minute, and I am told correct criticism. And how grand it is! This

morning--it is now 6.15 A.M.--I have been reading part of that wonderful

chapter xxvi.

'It strikes me that the way to teach a class or a congregation is to

bring out the doctrine from the very words of Scripture carefully,

critically examined and explained. Only think, Sophy, of the vague

desultory way in which we all, more or less, read; and we have accepted

a phraseology without enquiring to a great extent, and use words to

which we attach no definite meaning. Few in the congregation could

draw out in clear words what they mean when they talk of faith,

justification, regeneration, conversion, &c. &c. All language denoting

ideas and thoughts is transferred to the region of the mind from

denoting at first only external objects and sensations. This is in

accordance with the mystery of all, the union of mind and matter--which

no pagan philosopher could comprehend--the extreme difficulty of solving

which caused Dualism and Asceticism on the one hand, and neglect of all

bodily discipline on the other. Mind and matter must be antagonistic,

the work of different beings: man must get rid of his material part to

arrive at his true end and perfection.

'So some said, "Mortify, worry the body, which is essentially and

inherently evil." "No," said others, "the sins of the body don't hurt

the mind; the two things are distinct, don't react on one another."

(St. Paul deals with all this in the Colossians.) The Incarnation is the

solution or the culmination of the mystery.

'What a prose! but I meant, that people so often use words as if the use

of a word was equivalent to the knowledge of the thought which, in the

mind of an accurate thinker, accompanies the utterance of the word.

'I should think that three-fourths of what we clergymen say is

unintelligible to the mass of the congregation. We assume an

acquaintance with the Bible and Prayer-book, thought, and a knowledge of

the meaning of words which few, alas! possess. We must begin, then, with

the little ones; as far as I see, all children are apt to fail at the

point when they ought to be passing from merely employing the memory (in

learning by heart, e.g., the Catechism) by exercising the reasoning and

thinking faculty.

'"Well now, you have said that very well, now let us think what it

means."

'How well Dr. Pusey says, in his Sermons, "Not altogether intentional

deliberate vice, but thoughtlessness is destroying souls."

'I run on at random, dear Sophy, hoping to give you one and a half

hour's occupation on a sick bed or couch, and because, as you say, this

is the only converse we are likely to have on earth.

'I think I am too exclusively fond of this reading, very little else

interests me. I take up a theological book as a recreation, which is,

perhaps, hardly reverent, and may narrow the mind; but even Church

history is not very attractive to me. I like Jackson and Hooker, and

some of the moderns, of whom I read a good many; and I lose a good deal

of time in diving into things too deep by half for me, while I forget or

don't learn simple things.

'All this modern rage for reviews, serials, magazines, I can't abide.

My mind is far too much distracted already, and that fragmentary mode of

reading is very bad for many people, I am sure.

'Naturally enough at forty-two years of age ninety-nine hundredths

of the "lighter" books seem to me mere rubbish. They come to me

occasionally. However, there are younger ones here, so it isn't sheer

waste to receive such donations: they soon get out of my room. Not,

mind you, that I think this the least evidence of my being wiser, or

employing my time more carefully than other folk. Only I want you to

know what I am, and what I think.

'Pena has sent me a nice book which I wanted: 1st. Because I have a

great personal liking for Shairp, a simple-minded, affectionate man,

with much poetical feeling and good taste-a kindly-natured man. 2nd.

Because he writes in an appreciative kind of way, and is the

very opposite of .... whom I can't stand with his insufferable

self-sufficiency, and incapacity for appreciating the nobler, simpler,

more generous natures who are unlike him. Well! that is fierce. But

there is a school of men whom I can't stand. Their nature repels me, and

I hardly wish to like them; which is an evil feeling.

'I shall add a line in a few days.

'My very dearest love to Aunty--dear Aunty; and if I can't write to

Pena, give her my best love and thanks for her book.

'Dear Sophy, your loving Cousin,

'J. C. P.'

Two other letters, one to each of the sisters, were in progress at

this time. To Joanna, who had been grieved for the poor girl whose

transgression had occurred in the beginning of the year, he says:--

'About Semtingvat, you must be comforted about her. For a poor child

who, two short years before, had assumed as a matter of course that a

woman simply existed to be a man's slave in every kind of way, her fault

could not, I think, be regarded as very great. Indeed, there was much

comfort from the first; and since that time they not only have gone

on well, but I do believe that their religious character has been

much strengthened by the kind of revelation they then obtained of what

Christianity really does mean. Anyhow, all notice the fact that U----

has improved very much, and they all sing Semtingvat's praises. I had no

difficulty about marrying them after a little while. I spoke openly in

chapel to everyone about it. Their wedding was not as other weddings--no

festivity, no dressing of the chapel, no feast, no supper and fun and

holiday. It was perfectly understood to be in all respects different

from a bright, happy wedding. But it was quite as much for the sake of

all, for the sake of enforcing the new teaching about the sanctity of

marriage, that we made so very much of what (as men speak) was under the

circumstances a comparatively light fault, less than an impure thought

on the part of such as have been taught their duty from their childhood.

'I am almost confused with the accounts from England. All seems in a

state of turmoil and confusion; all the old landmarks being swept away

by a deluge of new opinions as to all matters civil and ecclesiastical.

I don't think that we ought to refuse to see these signs of a change in

men's mode of regarding great political and religious questions. A man

left high and dry on the sand-bank of his antiquated notions will do

little good to the poor folk struggling in the sea way, though he is

safer as far as he is himself concerned by staying where he is than by

plunging in to help them.

'It is a critical time in every sense. Men and women can hardly be

indifferent; they must be at the pains of making up their minds. As for

us clergy, everywhere but in Norfolk Island, we must know that people

are thinking of matters which all were content a few years ago to

keep back in silence, and that they expect us to speak about them. How

thankful I am that we fortunate ones are exempt from this. Yet in my way

I, too, try to think a bit about what is going on; and I don't want

to be too gloomy, or to ignore some good in all this ferment in men's

minds. It is better than stagnation and indolent respectability. There

is everywhere a consciousness of a vast work to be done, and sincere

efforts are made to do it. I suppose that is a fact; many, many poor

souls are being taught and trained for heaven through all these various

agencies which seem to a distant and idle critic to be so questionable

in some ways.

'Of old one thought that the sober standard of Church of England

divinity was the rule to which all speculations should be reduced; and

one thought that Pearson, Hooker, Waterland, Jeremy Taylor also, and

Andrewes, and Bull, and Jackson, and Barrow, &c., stood for the idea of

English divinity. Now we are launched upon a wider sea. Catholic usage

and doctrine take the place of Church of England teaching and practice;

rightly, I dare say, only it may be well to remember that men who can

perhaps understand a good deal of the English divines, can hardly be

supposed to be equally capable of understanding the far wider and

more difficult range of ecclesiastical literature of all ages and all

writers.

'Everyone knows and is struck by the fact that passages of old writers

are continually quoted by men of quite different schools of thought

in favour of their own (different) views. Clearly they can't both

understand the mind and spirit of these writers; and the truth is, isn't

it, that only they who by very long study, and from a large share of the

true historical imagination, sympathise with and really enter into the

hearts and minds of these writers, are competent to deal with and decide

upon such wide and weighty matters?

'It seems to me as if men who are in no sense divines, theologians, or

well read, speak strongly and use expressions and teach doctrines which,

indeed, only very few men should think of uttering or teaching.

'And yet, don't think I wish to be only an exclusive Anglican, without

sympathy for East or West; still less that I wish to ignore the Catholic

Church of the truly primitive times; but I take the real, so to say,

representative teaching of the Church of England to be the divinity

of the truly primitive Church, to which our formularies and reformers

appeal. I know, moreover, that our dear Father accepted Jackson and

Waterland; and I don't feel disposed to disparage them, as it is the

fashion to do nowadays. Few men, in spite of occasional scholastic

subtlety, go so deep in their search right down into principles as

Jackson. Few men so analyse, dissect, search out the precise, exact

meaning of words and phrases, so carry you away from vague generalities

to accurate defined meanings and doctrines. He had an honest and clear

brain of his own, though he was a tremendous book-worm; and I think

he is a great authority, though I know about him and his antagonism to

Rome. I don't fear to weary you by this kind of talk; but don't I wish

I could hear three or four of our very best men discuss these points

thoroughly. In all sincerity I believe that I should be continually

convinced of error, shallow judgments, and ignorance. But then I should

most likely get real light on some points where I would fain have it.'

To this unconscious token of humility, another must be added, from the

same letter, speaking of two New Zealand friends:--'To me she has always

been kindness itself, with her husband overrating me to such an amusing

extent that I don't think it hurt even my vanity.'

Full preparation was going on for the ordination, of the two priests.

No special account of the actual service seems to have been written; and

the first letter of January was nearly absorbed by the tidings of the

three Episcopal appointments of the close of 1869, the Oxford choice

coming near to Bishop Patteson by his family affections, and the

appointment to Exeter as dealing with his beloved county at home.

And now, before turning the page, and leaving the period that had, on

the whole, been full of brightness, will be the best time to give Mr.

Codrington's account of the manner of life at St. Barnabas, while the

Bishop was still in his strength:--

'Certainly one of the most striking points to a stranger would have been

the familiar intercourse between the Bishop and his boys, not only

the advanced scholars, but the last and newest comers. The kindly and

friendly disposition of the Melanesians leads to a great deal of free

and equal familiarity even where there are chiefs, and the obsequious

familiarity of which one hears in India is here quite unknown.

Nevertheless, I doubt very much whether other Melanesians live in

the same familiarity with their missionaries--e.g., Carry, wife of

Wadrokala, writes thus:--"I tremble very much to write to you, I am not

fit to write to you, because, does an ant know how to speak to a cow? We

at Nengone would not speak to a great man like you; no, our language is

different to a chief and a missionary."

'Making every allowance, and, looking at the matter from within, that

perfect freedom and affectionateness of intercourse that existed with

him seems very remarkable.

'The secret of it is not far to seek. It did not lie in any singular

attractiveness of his manner only, but in the experience that everyone

attracted gained that he sought nothing for himself; he was entirely

free from any desire to be admired, or love of being thought much of, as

he was from love of commanding for the sake of being obeyed. The great

temptations to missionaries among savage people, as it seems, are

to self-esteem, from a comparison of themselves with their European

advantages and the natives among whom they live; and to a domineering

temper, because they find an obedience ready, and it is delightful to be

obeyed. Bishop Patteson's natural disposition was averse to either, and

the principles of missionary work which he took up suited at once his

natural temper and his religious character. He was able naturally,

without effort, to live as a brother among his black brothers, to be the

servant of those he lived to teach. The natural consequence of this was,

the unquestioned authority which he possessed over those with whom he

lived on equal terms. No one could entertain the idea that anything was

ordered from a selfish motive, for any advantage to himself, or that

anything was forbidden without some very good reason. This familiarity

with a superior, which is natural with Melanesians, is accompanied,

especially in Banks Islanders, with a very great reserve about anything

that touches the feelings or concerns character. Thus a boy, who would

use the Bishop's room as if it were his own, coming in unasked, to read

or write, or sit by the fire there, would with very great difficulty get

over the physical trembling, which their language implies, that would

come upon him, if he wished to speak about his own feelings on religious

matters, or to tell him something which he well knew it was his duty to

make known. When one knows how difficult it is to them to speak openly,

their openness with the Bishop is more appreciated, though he indeed

often enough complained of their closeness with him. The real affection

between the boys and the Bishop required no acquaintance with the

character of either to discern, and could surprise no one who knew

anything of the history of their relation one to another. It is well

known that he wished his elder boys to stand in the place of the sixth

form of a public school; and to some extent they did so, but being

mostly Banks Islanders, and Banks Islanders being peculiarly afraid of

interfering with one another, his idea was never reached. Still no

doubt a good deal is attained when they arrive rather at the position of

pupil-teacher in a National School; and this at least they occupy very

satisfactorily, as is shown by the success with which so large a school

has been carried on since the Bishop's death. No doubt the Ordination

of more from among their number would go far to raise them in their own

estimation.

'In truth, the carrying out of the principle of the equality of black

and white in a missionary work, which is the principle of this mission,

is very difficult, and cannot be done in all particulars in practice

by anyone, and by most people, unless brought up to it, probably not at

all. Nevertheless, it is practicable, and, as we think, essential, and

was in all main points carried out by Bishop Patteson. But the effect of

this must not be exaggerated. It is true that we have no servants, yet a

boy regularly brought water, &c., for the Bishop, and a woman regularly

swept and cleaned his rooms, and received regular wages for it.

The Bishop never cooked his dinner or did any such work except upon

occasions on which a bachelor curate in England does much of the kind,

as a matter of course. The extraordinary thing is that it is, as he at

any rate supposed, the custom in other missions to make scholars and

converts servants as a matter of course; and the difference lies not in

the work which is done or not done by the one party or the other, but

in the social relation of equality which subsists between them, and the

spirit in which the work is asked for and rendered.

'The main thing to notice about the Bishop is that there was nothing

forced or unnatural in his manner of taking a position of equality, and

equality as real in any way as his superiority in another. Consequently,

there was never the least loss of dignity or authority on his part.

'There never was visible the smallest diminution of freedom and

affection in the intercourse that went on. It required some knowledge

in one respect to appreciate the extraordinary facility with which he

conversed with boys from various islands. A stranger would be struck

with his bright smiles and sweet tones as he would address some little

stranger who came into his room; but one who knew a little of the

languages alone could know with what extraordinary quickness he

passed from one language to another, talking to many boys in their own

language, but accommodating his tongue with wonderful readiness to

each in succession. It would be hard to say how many languages he could

speak; those which he spoke quite freely, to my knowledge, were not so

many: Mota, Bauro, Mahaga, and Nengone, certainly; some others no doubt

quite readily when among the people who spoke them; and very many only

with a small vocabulary which was every instant being enlarged. It does

not appear to me that his scientific philological acquirements were

extraordinary; but that his memory for words giving him such a command

of vocabulary, and so wide a scope for comparison, and his accurate and

delicate ear to catch the sounds, and power of reproducing them, were

altogether wonderful and very rarely equalled. A man of his faculty of

expression and powers of mind could not speak like a native; he spoke

better than a native, than a native of Mota at least. That is that,

although no doubt he never was quite master of the little delicate

points of Mota scholarship, which no one not a native can keep quite

right, and no native can account for, yet his vocabulary was so large

and accurate, and his feeling of the native ways of looking at things

and representing them in words so true, that he spoke to them more

clearly and forcibly than even any native spoke, and with the power of

an educated mind controlling while following the native taste. He was an

enthusiast, no doubt, about these languages, and jealous of their claim

to be considered true language, and not what people suppose them to be,

the uncouth jargon of savages. I will only say that his translations

of some of the Psalms into Mota are as lofty in their diction and as

harmonious in their rhythm, in my estimation, as anything almost I read

in any language. This no doubt sounds exaggerated, and must be taken

only for what it is worth.

'It was probably in a great measure because his natural power of

acquiring languages was so extraordinary, and needed so very little

labour in him, that he did so very little to put on paper what he knew

of all those many tongues. All there is in print I have put together.

Besides this, he carried the same unfortunate way of leaving off what he

had begun into these notes on language also. In the year '63-'64 he got

printed a number of small grammatical papers in almost all the languages

he knew, because he felt he ought not to subject them to the risk

of being lost. Another reason why he did not go into any laborious

manuscript or printing work with the various languages was, that he

saw as time went on, first, that it was so very uncertain what language

would come in practice into request; and, secondly, that one

language would suffice for the use, in practice, of all natives of a

neighbourhood. For example, the language of part of Mae (Three Hills),

in the New Hebrides, was once studied and well known. Nothing whatever

came of the intercourse with that island, once so constant, I don't know

why, and now the people themselves are destroyed almost, and hopes of

doing them good destroyed by the slave trade. And, secondly, the use

of the Mota language in our ordinary intercourse here has very much

diminished the need for any one's knowing a particular language beyond

the missionary who has charge of the boys who speak it. Thus the Bishop

rather handed over the language of Bauro to Mr. Atkin, of Florida to Mr.

Brooke, of Leper's Island to Mr. Price; and as the common teaching of

all boys who belonged to either of the principal groups into which the

school fell went on in Mota, there was no practical use in the other

tongues the Bishop knew, except in his voyages, and in giving him more

effectual powers of influencing those to whom he could speak in their

own tongue. Besides, he saw so clearly the great advantage, on the one

hand, of throwing together in every possible way the boys from all the

islands, which was much helped by the use of one language, and, on the

other hand, the natural tendency in a group of boys from one island or

neighbourhood to keep separate, and of the teacher of a particular set

to keep them separate with himself, that, without saying much about

it, he discouraged the printing of other languages besides Mota, and

in other ways kept them rather in the background. How things would have

arranged themselves if Mota had not by circumstances come into such

prominence I cannot say, but the predominance of Mota came in with the

internal organisation of the Mission by Mr. Pritt. It is impossible for

one who knew Bishop Patteson intimately, and the later condition of the

Mission intimately, to lose sight for long of Mr. Pritt's influence and

his useful work.'

Perhaps this chapter can best be completed by the external testimony

of a visitor to Norfolk Island, given in a letter to the Editor of the

'Australian Churchman':--

'Daily at 7 A.M. the bell rings for chapel about one minute, and

all hands promptly repair thither. In spite of the vast varieties of

language and dialect spoken by fifty or sixty human beings, collected

from twenty or thirty islets of the Pacific main, no practical

difficulty has been found in using the Mota as the general language

in Chapel and school, so that in a short time a congregation of twenty

languages are able to join in worship in the one Mota tongue, more or

less akin to all the rest, and a class of, say, nine boys, speaking

by nature five different languages, easily join in using the one Mota

language, just as a Frenchman, a German, a Russian, a Pole, an Italian,

and an Englishman, all meeting in the same cafe or railway carriage, on

the same glacier or mountain top, might harmoniously agree to use the

French language as their medium of communication. So the service is

conducted in Mota with one exception only. The collect for the day is

read in English, as a brief allowable concession to the ears and hearts

of the English members of the Mission. The service consists of

the greater part of the Church of England Service translated.

Some modifications have been made to suit the course of religious

instruction. The Psalms are chanted and hymns sung in parts, and always

in admirable tune, by the congregation. Noteworthy are the perfect

attention, the reverent attitude, the hearty swing and unison of the

little congregation, a lesson, I felt with shame, to many of our white

congregations.

'Immediately after service clinks out the breakfast bell, and, with

marvellous promptitude and punctuality, whites and blacks, lay and

clerical, are seen flocking to the mess-room. The whites sit at the

upper end of the table, but beyond the special privilege of tea, all

fare alike, chiefly on vegetables: yams or sweet potatoes, and carrots

or vegetable marrows, as may suit the season, with plenty of biscuit

for more ambitious teeth, and plenty of milk to wash it down. Soon

afterwards comes school for an hour and a half. Then work for the boys

and men, planting yams, reaping wheat, mowing oats, fencing, carting,

building, as the call may be, only no caste distinction or ordering

about; it is not go and do that, but come and do this, whether the

leader be an ordained clergyman, a white farm bailiff, or a white

carpenter. This is noteworthy, and your readers will gain no clear idea

of the Mission if they do not seize this point, for it is no matter of

mere detail, but one of principle. The system is not that of the ship

or the regiment, of the farm or the manufactory of the old country, but

essentially of the family. It is not the officer or master saying "Go"

but the father or the brother saying "Come." And to this, I firmly

believe, is the hearty cheerful following and merry work of the blacks

chiefly due. At 1 P.M. is dinner, much the same as breakfast. Meat,

though not unknown, is the weak point of the Mission dietary. In the

afternoon, work. At 6, tea. In the evening, class again for an hour

or two; this evening class being sometimes a singing lesson, heartily

enjoyed by the teacher. I forget precisely when the boys have to prepare

matter arising out of the lessons they have received viva voce.

'There are evening prayers, and bed-time is early. Noteworthy are the

happy conjunctions of perfect discipline with perfect jollity, the

marvellous attainment of a happy familiarity which does not "breed

contempt."

'I presume I need scarcely say to your readers that besides education

in reading, writing, and arithmetic, through the medium of the Mota

language, instruction in the Holy Scriptures and the most careful

explanations of their meaning and mutual relation, forms a main part of

the teaching given. The men and boys of the senior classes take notes;

notes not by order expressly to be inspected, but, so to say, private

notes for the aid of their memories; and from the translation given to

me by Bishop Patteson of some of these, I should say that few, if any,

of the senior class of an English Sunday School could give anything like

so close, and sometimes philosophical, an explanation of Scripture, and

that sometimes in remarkably few words.

'There remains to be noticed one most effectual means of doing good.

After evening school, the Bishop, his clergy, and his aides, retire

mostly into their own rooms. Then, quietly and shyly, on this night or

the other night, one or two, three or four of the more intelligent of

the black boys steal silently up to the Bishop's side, and by fits

and starts, slowly, often painfully, tell their feelings, state their

difficulties, ask for help, and, I believe, with God's blessing, rarely

fail to find it. They are not gushing as negroes, but shy as Englishmen;

we Englishmen ought, indeed, to have a fellow-feeling for these poor

black boys and help them with all our hearts.

'Such is the routine for five of the six work days. Saturday is whole

holiday, and all hands go to fish if the sea permits; if not, to play

rounders or what not. Merry lads they are, as ever gladdened an English

playground.

'On Sunday, the early Chapel is omitted. The full Liturgy is divided

into two services--I forget the laws--and a kind of sermon in Mota is

given; and in the afternoon, the Bishop, or one of the ordained members

of the Mission, usually goes down to the town to relieve Mr. Nobbs in

his service for the Pitcairners.

'As regards the manual work of the station, this general principle is

observed--women for washing and house-work; the men for planting and

out-of-door work; but no one, white or black, is to be too grand to do

his share. The Bishop's share, indeed, is to study and investigate and

compare the languages and necessary translations, but no one is to

be above manual labour. No one, because he is a white man, is to say,

"Here, black fellow, come and clean my boots." "Here, black people,

believe that I have come to give you a treasure of inestimable price.

Meantime, work for me, am I not your superior? Can I not give you money,

calico, what not?"

'This Christian democracy, if I may so call it, has worked well in the

long run.'

This observer does seem to have entered well into the spirit of the

place; and there can be no doubt that the plan and organisation of the

Mission had by this time been well tested and both found practicable,

and, as at present worked, more than ordinarily successful. The college

was in full working order, with a staff of clergy, all save one formed

under the Bishop, one native deacon and two teachers living with their

wives in a population that was fast becoming moulded by the influence

of Christianity, many more being trained up, and several more islands

in course of gradual preparation by the same process as was further

advanced in Mota.

Such were the achievements which could be thankfully recounted by the

end of 1869.