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Life of John Coleridge Patteson:
Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian Islands

by Charlotte Mary Yonge

PREFACE.

There are of course peculiar advantages as well as disadvantages in
endeavouring to write the life of one recently departed. On the one
hand, the remembrances connected with him are far fresher; his
contemporaries can he consulted, and much can be made matter of
certainty, for which a few years would have made it necessary to
trust to hearsay or probable conjecture. On the other, there is
necessarily much more reserve; nor are the results of the actions,
nor even their comparative importance, so clearly discernible as when
there has been time to ripen the fruit.

These latter drawbacks are doubled when the subject of the biography
has passed away in comparatively early life: when the persons with
whom his life is chiefly interwoven are still in full activity; and
when he has only lived to sow his seed in many waters, and has barely
gathered any portion of his harvest.

Thus what I have written of Bishop Patteson, far more what I have
copied of his letters, is necessarily only partial, although his
nearest relations and closest friends have most kindly permitted the
full use of all that could build up a complete idea of the man as he
was. Many letters relate to home and family matters, such as it
would be useless and impertinent to divulge; and yet it is necessary
to mention that these exist, because without them we might not know
how deep was the lonely man's interest and sympathy in all that
concerned his kindred and friends. Other letters only repeat the
narrative or the reflections given elsewhere; and of these, it has
seemed best only to print that which appeared to have the fullest or
the clearest expression. In general, the story is best told in
letters to the home party; while thoughts are generally best
expressed in the correspondence with Sir John Taylor Coleridge, to
whom the Nephew seems to have written with a kind of unconscious
carefulness of diction. There is as voluminous a correspondence with
the Brother, and letters to many Cousins; but as these either repeat
the same adventures or else are purely domestic, they have been
little brought forward, except where any gap occurred in the
correspondence which has formed the staple material.

Letters upon the unhappy Maori war have been purposely omitted; and,
as far as possible, such criticisms on living personages as it seemed
fair towards the writer to omit. Criticisms upon their publications
are of course a different thing. My desire has been to give enough
expression of Bishop Patteson's opinions upon Church and State
affairs, to represent his manner of thinking, without transcribing
every detail of remarks, which were often made upon an imperfect
report, and were, in fact, only written down, instead of spoken and
forgotten, because correspondence served him instead of conversation.

I think I have represented fairly, for I have done my best faithfully
to select passages giving his mind even where it does not coincide
completely with my own opinions; being quite convinced that not only
should a biographer never attempt either to twist or conceal the
sentiments of the subject, but that either to apologise for, or as it
were to argue with them, is vain in both senses of the word.

The real disadvantage of the work is my own very slight personal
acquaintance with the externals of the man, and my ignorance of the
scenes in which the chief part of his life was passed. There are
those who would have been far more qualified in these respects than
myself, and, above all, in that full and sympathetic masculine grasp
of a man's powerful mind, which is necessarily denied to me. But
these fittest of all being withheld by causes which are too well
known to need mention, I could only endeavour to fulfil the work as
best I might; trusting that these unavoidable deficiencies may be
supplied, partly by Coleridge Patteson's own habit of writing
unreservedly, so that he speaks for himself, and partly by the very
full notes and records with which his friends have kindly supplied
me, portraying him from their point of view; so that I could really
trust that little more was needed than ordinary judgment in
connecting and selecting. Nor until the work is less fresh from my
hand will it be possible to judge whether I have in any way been
allowed to succeed in my earnest hope and endeavour to bring the
statue out of the block, and as it were to carve the figure of the
Saint for his niche among those who have given themselves soul and
body to God's Work.

It has been an almost solemn work of anxiety, as well as one of love.
May I only have succeeded in causing these letters and descriptions
to leave a true and definite impression of the man and of his
example!

Let me here record my obligations for materials--I need hardly say to
the immediate family and relations--for, in truth, I act chiefly as
their amanuensis; but likewise to the Bishop of Lichfield, Bishop
Abraham.

Lady Martin, the Rev. B. T. Dudley, the Rev. E. Codrington, and
Captain Tilly, for their valuable aid--the two first mentioned by
correction and revision, the others by contributions such as could
only be supplied by eye-witnesses and fellow-workers. Many others I
must thank for kindly supplying me with letters.

CHARLOTTE MARY YONGE.
ELDERFIELD,
September 19, 1873.

CHAPTER I.

CHILDHOOD AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL, 1827-1838.

So much of a man's cast of character depends upon his home and
parentage, that no biography can be complete which does not look back
at least as far as the lives of the father and mother, from whom the
disposition is sure to be in part inherited, and by whom it must
often be formed. Indeed, the happiest natures are generally those
which have enjoyed the full benefit of parental training without
dictation, and have been led, but not forced, into the way in which
they should go.

Therefore it will not be irrelevant to dwell on the career of the
father whose name, though still of great weight in his own
profession, may not be equally known to the younger generation who
have grown up since the words 'Mr. Justice Patteson' were of frequent
occurrence in law reports.

John Patteson, father of the subject of the present memoir, was son
to a clergyman of a Norfolk family, and was born at Coney Weston, on
February 11, 1790. He was educated at Eton, and there formed more
than one friendship, which not only lasted throughout his life, but
extended beyond his own generation. Sport and study flourished alike
among such lads as these; and while they were taught by Dr. Groodall
to delight in the peculiarly elegant and accurate scholarship which
was the characteristic of the highest education of their day, their
boyhood and youth were full of the unstained mirth that gives such
radiance to recollections of the past, and often causes the loyalty
of affectionate association to be handed on to succeeding
generations. The thorough Etonian impress, with all that it
involved, was of no small account in his life, as well as in that of
his son.

The elder John Patteson was a colleger, and passed on to King's
College, Cambridge, whence, in 1813, he came to London to study law.
In 1816 he opened his chambers as a special pleader, and on February
23, 1818, was married to his cousin, Elizabeth Lee, after a long
engagement. The next year, 1819, he was called to the Bar, and began
to go the Northern circuit. On April 3, 1820, Mrs. Patteson died,
leaving one daughter, Joanna Elizabeth. Four years later, on April
22, 1824, Mr. Patteson married Frances Duke Coleridge, sister of his
friend and fellow-barrister, John Taylor Coleridge. This lady, whose
name to all who remember her calls up a fair and sweet memory of all
that was good, bright, and beloved, was the daughter of James
Coleridge, of Heath's Court, Ottery St. Mary, Devon, Colonel of the
South Devon Volunteers. He was the eldest of the numerous family of
the Rev. John Coleridge, Master of Ottery St. Mary School, and the
poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was the youngest.

The strong family affection that existed between all Colonel
Coleridge's children, and concentrated itself upon the only sister
among them, made marriage with her an adoption into a group that
could not fail to exercise a strong influence on all connected with
it, and the ties of kindred will be found throughout this memoir to
have had peculiar force.

John Coleridge Patteson, his mother's second child and eldest son,
was born at No. 9, Grower Street, Bedford Square, on the 1st of
April, 1827, and baptized on the 8th. Besides the elder half-sister
already mentioned, another sister, Frances Sophia Coleridge, a year
older than, and one brother, James Henry, nearly two years younger
than Coleridge, made up the family.

Three years later, in 1830, Mr. Patteson was raised to the Bench, at
the unusually early age of forty.

It is probable that there never was a period when the Judicial Bench
could reckon a larger number of men distinguished not only for legal
ability but for the highest culture and for the substantial qualities
that command confidence and respect. The middle of the nineteenth
century was a time when England might well be proud of her Judges.

There was much in the habits of the Bench and Bar to lead to close
and friendly intimacy, especially on the circuits. When legal
etiquette forbade the use of any public conveyance, and junior
barristers shared post-chaises, while the leaders travelled in their
own carriages, all spent a good deal of time together, and it was not
unusual for ladies to go a great part of the circuit with their
husbands, especially when it lay in the direction of their own
neighbourhood. The Judges' families often accompanied them,
especially at the summer assize, and thus there grew up close
associations between their children, which made their intimacy almost
like that of relationship. Almost all, too, lived in near
neighbourhood in those parts of London that now are comparatively
deserted, but which were then the especial abodes of lawyers, namely,
those adjacent to Bedford Square, where the gardens were the daily
resort of their children, all playing together and knowing one
another with that familiarity that childhood only gives.

'Sir John Patteson's contemporaries have nearly all, one by one,
passed away,' writes one of them, Sir John Taylor Coleridge. 'He has
left few, if any, literary monuments to record what his intellectual
powers were; and even in our common profession the ordinary course
and practice are so changed, that I doubt whether many lawyers are
now familiar with his masterly judgments; but I feel that I speak the
truth when I describe him as a man of singularly strong common sense,
of great acuteness, truthfulness, and integrity of judgment. These
were great judicial qualities, and to these he added much simplicity
and geniality of temper and manners; and all these were crowned by a
firm, unhesitating, devout belief in the doctrines of our faith,
which issued in strictness to himself and the warmest, gentlest
charity to his fellow-creatures. The result was what you might
expect. Altogether it would be hard to say whether you would
characterise him as a man unusually popular or unusually respected.'

Such was the character of Mr. Justice Patteson, a character built
upon the deep, solid groundwork of religion, such as would now be
called that of a sound Churchman of the old school, thoroughly devout
and scrupulous in observance, ruling his family and household on a
principle felt throughout, making a conscience of all his and their
ways, though promoting to the utmost all innocent enjoyment of
pleasure, mirth, or gaiety. Indeed, all who can look back on him or
on his home remember an unusual amount of kindly genial cheerfulness,
fun, merriment, and freedom, i.e. that obedient freedom which is the
most perfect kind of liberty.

Though this was in great part the effect of having such a head of the
family, the details of management could not but chiefly depend upon
the mother, and Lady Patteson was equally loved for her tenderness
and respected for her firmness. 'She was, indeed,' writes her
brother, 'a sweet and pious person, of the most affectionate, loving
disposition, without a grain of selfishness, and of the stoutest
adherence to principle and duty. Her tendency was to deal with her
children fondly, but this never interfered with good training and
discipline. What she felt right, she insisted on, at whatever pain
to herself.'

She had to deal with strong characters. Coleridge, or Coley, to give
him the abbreviation by which he was known not only through childhood
but through life, was a fair little fellow, with bright deep-blue
eyes, inheriting much of his nature from her and her family, but not
by any means a model boy. He was, indeed, deeply and warmly
affectionate, but troublesome through outbreaks of will and temper,
showing all the ordinary instinct of trying how far the authorities
for the time being will endure resistance; sufficiently indolent of
mind to use his excellent abilities to save exertion of intellect;
passionate to kicking and screaming pitch, and at times showing the
doggedness which is such a trial of patience to the parent. To this
Lady Patteson 'never yielded; the thing was to be done, the point
given up, the temper subdued, the mother to be obeyed, and all this
upon a principle sooner understood than parents suppose.'

There were countless instances of the little boy's sharp, stormy
gusts of passion, and his mother's steady refusal to listen to his 'I
will be good' until she saw that he was really sorry for the scratch
or pinch which he had given, or the angry word he had spoken; and she
never waited in vain, for the sorrow was very real, and generally
ended in 'Do you think God can forgive me?' When Fanny's love of
teasing had exasperated Coley into stabbing her arm with a pencil,
their mother had resolution enough to decree that no provocation
could excuse 'such unmanliness' in a boy, and inflicted a whipping
which cost the girl more tears than her brother, who was full of the
utmost grief a child could feel for the offence. No fault was
lightly passed over; not that punishment was inflicted for every
misdemeanour, but it was always noticed, and the children were shown
with grave gentleness where they were wrong; or when there was a
squabble among them, the mother's question, 'Who will give up?'
generally produced a chorus of 'I! I! I!' Withal 'mamma' was the
very life of all the fun, and play, and jokes, enjoying all with
spirits and merriment like the little ones' own, and delighting in
the exchange of caresses and tender epithets. Thus affection and
generosity grew up almost spontaneously towards one another and all
the world.

On this disposition was grafted that which was the one leading
characteristic of Coley's life, namely, a reverent and religious
spirit, which seems from the first to have been at work, slowly and
surely subduing inherent defects, and raising him, step by step, from
grace to grace.

Five years old is in many cases an age of a good deal of thought.
The intelligence is free from the misapprehensions and misty
perceptions of infancy; the first course of physical experiments is
over, freedom of speech and motion have been attained, and yet there
has not set in that burst of animal growth and spirits that often
seems to swamp the deeper nature throughout boyhood. By this age
Coley was able to read, and on his birthday he received from his
father the Bible which was used at his consecration as Bishop twenty-
seven years later.

He had an earnest wish to be a clergyman, because he thought saying
the Absolution to people must make them so happy, 'a belief he must
have gleaned from his Prayer-book for himself, since the doctrine was
not in those days made prominent.' The purpose was fostered by his
mother. 'She delighted in it, and encouraged it in him. No thought
of a family being to be made, and of Coley being the eldest son, ever
interfered for a moment. That he should be a good servant at God's
altar was to her above all price.'

Of course, however, this was without pressing the thought on him. He
grew on, with the purpose accepted but not discussed, except from
time to time a half-playful, half-grave reference to himself as a
future clergyman.

Reverence was strongly implanted in him. His old nurse (still his
sister's valued servant) remembers the little seven years old boy,
after saying his own prayers at her knee, standing opposite to his
little brother, admonishing him to attention with 'Think, Jemmy;
think.' In fact, devoutness seems to have been natural to him. It
appears to have been the first strongly traceable feature in him, and
to have gradually subdued his faults one by one.

Who can tell how far this was fostered by those old-fashioned habits
of strictness which it is the present habit to view as repellent?
Every morning, immediately after breakfast, Lady Patteson read the
Psalms and Lessons for the day with the four children, and after
these a portion of some book of religious instruction, such as 'Horne
on the Psalms' or 'Daubeny on the Catechism.' The ensuing studies
were in charge of Miss Neill, the governess, and the life-long friend
of her pupils; but the mother made the religious instruction her
individual care, and thus upheld its pre-eminence. Sunday was
likewise kept distinct in reading, teaching, employment, and whole
tone of conversation, and the effect was assuredly not that weariness
which such observance is often supposed to produce, but rather
lasting benefit and happy associations. Coley really enjoyed Bible-
reading, and entered into explanations, and even then often picked up
a passage in the sermons he heard at St. Giles's-in-the-Fields from
the Rev. J. Endell Tyler, and would give his home-oracles no peace
till they had made it as clear to his comprehension as was possible.

The love of his home may be gathered from the fact that his letters
have been preserved in an unbroken series, beginning from a country
visit in 1834, after a slight attack of scarlet fever, written in the
round-hand of a boy of seven years old, and finished off with the big
Roman capitals FINIS, AMEN, and ending with the uncompleted sheets,
bearing as their last date September 19, 1871.

The boy's first school was at Ottery St. Mary, in Devonshire, of
which his great-grandfather and great-uncle had both been head-
masters.

There was much to make Ottery homelike to Coley, for his grandparents
lived at Heath's Court, close to the church, and in the manor-house
near at hand their third son, Francis George Coleridge, a solicitor,
whose three boys were near contemporaries of Coley, and two of them
already in the school.

From first to last his letters to his parents show no symptom of
carelessness; they are full of ease and confidence, outpourings of
whatever interested him, whether small or great, but always
respectful as well as affectionate, and written with care and pains,
being evidently his very best; nor does the good old formula, 'Your
affectionate and dutiful son,' ever fail or ever produce stiffness.

The shrinking from rough companions, and the desire to be with the
homelike relatives around, proved a temptation, and the little boy
was guilty of making false excuses to obtain leave of absence. We
cannot refrain from giving his letter of penitence, chiefly for the
sake of the good sense and kindness of his uncle's treatment:--

'April 26, 1836.

'My dear Papa,--I am very sorry for having told so many falsehoods,
which Uncle Frank has told mamma of. I am very sorry for having done
so many bad things, I mean falsehoods, and I heartily beg your
pardon; and Uncle Frank says that he thinks, if I stay, in a month's
time Mr. Cornish will begin to trust me again. Uncle Frank to-day
had me into his house and told me to reflect upon what I had done.
He also lectured me in the Bible, and asked me different questions
about it. He told me that if I ever told another falsehood he should
that instant march into the school and ask Mr. Cornish to strip and
birch me; and if I followed the same course I did now and did not
amend it, if the birching did not do, he should not let me go home
for the holidays; but I will not catch the birching...

'So believe me your dear Son,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

On the flap of the letter 'Uncle Frank' writes to the mother:--

'My dear Fanny,--I had Coley in my room to-day, and talked to him
seriously about his misdeeds, and I hope good has been done. But I
could scarcely keep my countenance grave when he began to reduce by
calculation the exact number of fibs he had told. He did not think
it was more than two or three at the utmost: and when I brought him
to book, I had much to do to prevent the feeling that the sin
consisted in telling many lies. However the dear boy's confession
was as free as could be expected, and I have impressed on his mind
the meanness, cowardice, and wickedness of the habit, and what it
will end in here and hereafter. He has promised that he will never
offend in future in like manner, and I really believe that his desire
to be away from the school and at ease among his friends induced him
to trump up the invitations, &c., to Mr. Cornish, in which consisted
his first fibs. I shall watch him closely, as I would my own child;
and Cornish has done wisely, I think, by giving the proper punishment
of confining him to the school-court, &c., and not letting him go to
his friends for some time. The dear boy is so affectionate, and has
so much to work on, that there is no fear of him; only these things
must be looked after promptly, and he must learn practically (before
his reason and religion operate) that he gains nothing by a lie... He
is very well, and wins one's heart in a moment...

'Ever your affectionate Brother,

'F. G. C.'

The management was effectual, and the penitence real, for this fault
never recurred, nor is the boy's conduct ever again censured, though
the half-yearly reports often lament his want of zeal and exertion.
Coley was sufficiently forward to begin Greek on his first arrival at
Ottery, and always held a fair place for his years, but throughout
his school career his character was not that of an idle but of an
uninterested boy, who preferred play to work, needed all his
conscience to make him industrious, and then was easily satisfied
with his performances; naturally comparing them with those of other
boys, instead of doing his own utmost, and giving himself full credit
for the diligence he thought he had used. For it must be remembered
that it was a real, not an ideal nature; not a perfect character, but
one full of the elements of growth.

A childish, childlike boy, he was now, and for many years longer,
intensely fond of all kinds of games and sports, in which his light
active form, great agility, and high spirit made him excel. Cricket,
riding, running-races, all the school amusements were his delight;
fireworks for the 5th of November sparkle with ecstasy through his
letters, and he was a capital dancer in the Christmas parties at his
London home. He had likewise the courage and patience sure to be
needed by an active lad. While at Ottery he silently bore the pain
of a broken collar-bone for three weeks, and when the accident was
brought to light by his mother's embrace, he only said that 'he did
not like to make a fuss.'

Consideration for others, kindness, and sweetness of nature were
always his leading characteristics, making him much beloved by all
his companions, and an excellent guardian and example to his little
brother, who soon joined him at Ottery. Indeed, the love between
these two brothers was so deep, quiet, and fervid, that it is hard to
dwell on it while 'one is taken and the other left.' It was at this
time a rough buffeting, boyish affection, but it was also a love that
made separation pain and grief, and on the part of the elder, it
showed itself in careful protection from all harm or bullying, and
there was a strong underlying current of tenderness, most endearing
to all concerned with the boys, whether masters, relations, friends,
or servants.

CHAPTER II.

BOYHOOD AT ETON. 1838--1845.

After the Christmas holidays of 1837-8, when Coley Patteson was
nearly eleven years old, he was sent to Eton, that most beautifully
situated of public schools, whose delightful playing fields, noble
trees, broad river, and exquisite view of Windsor Castle give it a
peculiar charm, joining the venerable grandeur of age to the
freshness and life of youth, so as to rivet the affections in no
common degree.

It was during the head-mastership of Dr. Hawtrey that Patteson
became, in schoolboy phrase, an Eton fellow, being boarded in the
house of his uncle, the Rev. Edward Coleridge, one of the most
popular and successful Eton masters. Several of his cousins were
also in this house, with other boys who became friends of his whole
life, and he was thoroughly happy there, although in these early days
he still felt each departure from home severely, and seldom failed to
write a mournful letter after the holidays. There is one, quite
pathetic in its simplicity, telling his mother how he could not say
his prayers nor fall asleep on his first night till he had resolutely
put away the handkerchief that seemed for some reason a special link
with home. It illustrates what all who remember him say, how
thoroughly a childlike being he still was, though a well-grown,
manly, high-spirited boy, quite able to take care of himself, keep
his place, and hold his own.