Books: Life of John Coleridge Patteson

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> Life of John Coleridge Patteson

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'It is because I feel that it is more natural to man to follow truth
than error ("natural" being understood to mean correspondent to the
true nature) that I believe the right thing is to address oneself to
the principle in a man which can and will recognise truth. Truth
when recognised expels error. But why attack error without
positively inculcating truth? I hope it does not bore you for me to
write all this. But I wish you to learn all that may explain my way
of dealing with these questions.'

The next day, October 25, a headache gives the Bishop a reason for
indulging himself, while waiting for his pupils, in calling up and
setting down a realisation of his sisters' new home at St. Mary
Church, where for the time he seems to go and live with them, so
vividly does he represent the place to himself. His first return to
his own affairs is a vision that once more shows his unappeased
craving for all appliances 'for glory and for beauty' in the worship
of God.

'I may some day have a connection with Mary Church marbles.
Sometimes I have a vision--but I must live twenty years to see more
than a vision--of a small but exceedingly beautiful Gothic chapel,
rich inside with marbles and stained glass and carved stalls and
encaustic tiles and brass screen work. I have a feeling that a
certain use of really good ornaments may be desirable, and being on a
very small scale it might be possible to make a very perfect thing
some day. There is no notion of my indulging such a thought. It may
come some day, and most probably long after I am dead and gone. It
would be very foolish to spend money upon more necessary things than
a beautiful chapel at present, when in fact I barely pay my way at
all. And yet a really noble church is a wonderful instrument of
education, if we think only of the lower way of regarding it. Well,
you have a grand church, and it is pleasant to think of dear dear
Father having laid the stone, and of Cousin George. What would he
say now to Convocation and Synods, and the rapid progress of the
organisation of the Church?

'I think that what you say, Fan, about my overvaluing the world's
opinion is very true. Self-consciousness and a very foolish sinful
vanity always have been and are great sources of trial to me. How
often I have longed for that simplicity and truthfulness of character
that we saw so beautifully exemplified in our dear Father! How often
I think that it is very good for me that I am so wanting in all
personal gifts! I should be intolerable! I tell you this, not to
foster such feelings by talking of them, but because we wish to know
and be known to each other as we are. It is a very easy thing to be
a popular preacher here, perhaps anywhere. You know that I never
write a really good sermon, but I carry off platitudes with a sort of
earnest delivery, tolerably clear voice, and with all the prestige of
being a self-devoted Missionary Bishop. Bless their hearts! if they
could see me sipping a delicious cup of coffee, with some delightful
book by my side, and some of my lads sitting with me, all of them
really loving one, and glad to do anything for one!

'A less self-conscious person could do what I can hardly do without
danger. I see my name in a book or paper, and then comes at once a
struggle against some craving after praise. I think I know the
fault, but I don't say I struggle against it as I ought to do. It is
very hard, therefore, for me to write naturally about work in which I
am myself engaged. But I feel that a truthful account of what we see
and hear ought to be given, and yet I never speak about the Mission
without feeling that I have somehow conveyed a false impression.'

Again there was a time of sickness. The weather alternated between
keen cutting winds and stifling heat; and there was much illness
among the colonists, as well as a recurrence of the dreadful disease
of the former year among the scholars of St. Andrew's, though less
severe, and one boy died after fourteen days' sickness, while two
pulled through with difficulty. In the midst came the Ember Week,
when Mr. Palmer was ordained Deacon; and then the Bishop collapsed
under ague, and spent the morning of Christmas Day in bed, but was
able to get up and move into chapel for the celebration, and
afterwards to go into hall and see the scholars eat their Christmas
dinner.

In the letter he wrote in the latter part of the day, he confessed
that 'he felt older and less springy;' though, as he added, there was
good reason for it in the heavy strain that there had been upon him
throughout the year, though his native, scholars were all that he
could desire.

A few days' holiday and change at the Primate's brought back spirits
and strength; but the question whether under any circumstances New
Zealand would be a safe residence for the great body of Melanesian
scholars was becoming doubtful, and it seemed well to consider of
some other locality. Besides, it was felt to be due to the
supporters of the Mission in Australia to tell them personally how
great had been the progress made since 1855; and, accordingly, on one
of the first days of February, Bishop Patteson embarked in a mail
steamer for Sydney, but he was obliged to leave six of his lads in a
very anxious state with a recurrence of dysentery. However, the
Governor, Sir George Grey, had lent his place on the island of Kawau,
thirty miles north of Auckland, to the party, so that there was good
hope that change would restore the sick.

'Fancy me,' says the Journal of February 6, 'on board a screw
steamer, 252 feet long, with the best double cabin on board for my
own single use, the manager of the company being anxious to show me
every attention, eating away at all sorts of made dishes, puddings,
&c., and lounging about just as I please on soft red velvet sofas and
cushions.'

The rest and good living were the restorative he needed; and, in
spite of anxiety about the patients at home, he enjoyed and profited
by it.

On February 6, Sydney was reached, but the Bishop sailed on at once
for his farthest point. At Melbourne, on the 11th, he quaintly
declares, after describing his kind reception: 'I feel at present a
stranger among strangers; no new thing to me, especially if they are
black, and begin by offering me cocoa-nut instead of bread and
butter. This place looks too large for comfort--like a section of
London, busy, bustling, money-making. There are warm hearts
somewhere amid the great stores and banks and shops, I dare say. But
you know it feels a little strange, and especially as I think it not
unlikely that a regular hearty Church feeling may not be the rule of
the place. Still I am less shy than I was, and with real gentlemen
feel no difficulty in discussing points on which we differ.

It is the vulgar uneducated fellow that beats me. The Melanesians,
laugh as you may at it, are naturally gentlemanly and courteous and
well-bred. I never saw a "gent" in Melanesia, though not a few
downright savages. I vastly prefer the savage.'

Melbourne was, however, to be taken on the return; and he went on to
Adelaide, where Bishop Short and the clergy met him at the port, and
he was welcomed most heartily. The Diocesan Synod assembled to greet
him, and presented an address; and there were daily services and
meetings, when great interest was excited, and tangibly proved by the
raising of about £250. He was perfectly astonished at the beauty and
fertility of the place, and the exceeding luxuriance of the fruit.
One bunch of grapes had been known to weigh fourteen pounds. As to
the style of living with all ordinary English comforts and
attendance, he says:--'I feel almost like a fish out of water, and
yet I can't help enjoying it. One very easily resumes old luxurious
habits, and yet the thought of my dear boys, sick as I fear some must
be, helps to keep me in a sober state of mind.'

On St. Matthew's Day he assisted at an Ordination: and on the 27th
returned to Melbourne for three weeks, and thence to Sydney. His
time was so taken up that his letters are far more scanty and hurried
than usual.

'I have been running no little risk of being spoilt, and I don't say
that I have come off uninjured. In Melbourne I was told by the Dean
(the Bishop is in England) and by Judge Pohlman (an excellent good
man) that they remembered no occasion during the twenty-two years of
sojourn (before Melbourne was more than a village) when so much
interest had been shown in Christian work, especially Mission work.
This is a thing to be very thankful for. I felt it my duty to speak
strongly to them on their own duties, first to Aborigines, secondly
to Chinese (of whom some 40,000 live in Victoria), thirdly to
Melanesians. I did not aim only at getting money for Melanesia; I
took much higher ground than that. But the absence of the ordinary
nonsense about startling conversions, rapid results, &c., and the
matter-of-fact unsentimental way of stating the facts of heathenism,
and the way to act upon it, did, no doubt, produce a very remarkable
effect.

'I need not tell you that I did pray for strength to make good use of
such unexpected and very unusual opportunities. Crowded meetings,
nothing before like it in Melbourne or the provinces. I did not feel
nervous, much to my surprise; I really wonder at it, I had dreaded it
much.

'It was a sight to see St. George's Hall crowded, children sitting on
the floor, platform, anywhere, and very many adults (about 500)
besides. Now you know my old vanity. Thank God, I don't think it
followed me very much here. There was a strong sense of a grand
opportunity, and the need of grace to use it.'

The enthusiasm at Victoria resulted in 350 pounds, and pledges of
future assistance; and at Sydney there was the like grand meeting,
the like address, and hearty response; and the Churches of Australia
pledged themselves to bear the annual expenses of the voyages of the
'Southern Cross.' A number of young clerks and officials, too,
united in an arrangement by which she could be insured, high as was
the needful rate.

The preaching and speeches produced an immense feeling, and the after
review of the expedition is thus recorded:--

'As for my sermons in Australia, I found to my surprise that every
minute was so occupied that I could not make time to write; and as
for doing so in New Zealand before I started, why, I systematized and
put into the printer's hands, in about four months, grammars, &c.,
more or less complete, of seventeen languages, working up eight or
ten more in MS.!

'I had to preach extempore for the most part: I did not at all like
it, but what could I do? Sermons and speeches followed like hail--at
least one, sometimes two on week-days, and three on Sundays. I
preached on such points as I had often talked out with the Primate
and Sir William, and illustrated principles by an occasional
statement of facts drawn from missionary experience.

'Now, old Fan, as you know, the misery of self-consciousness and
conceit clings to me. I can't, as dear old father could, tell you
what actually occurred without doing myself harm in the telling of
it.

'It pleased God to make me able to say all through what I think it
was good for people to hear. All meetings and services (with a few,
very few exceptions, from heavy rains, &c.) were crowded. I could
not in a few minutes speak with any degree of completeness on
subjects which for years had occupied my thoughts: I was generally
about an hour and a half, occasionally longer--I tried to be shorter.
But people were attentive and interested all through. At Melbourne,
it was said that 1,500 children (at a meeting for them) were present,
and 500 adults, including many of the most educated people. All,
children included, were as still as mice for an hour and a half,
except occasional cheers.

'But generally there was little excitement. I did not, as you can
suppose, take the sensation line; spoke very rapidly, for I had no
time to spare--but clearly and quietly, sometimes gravely, sometimes
with exceeding earnestness, and exposed sophistries and fallacies and
errors about the incapacity of the black races, &c. There were times
when I lost all sense of nervousness and self, and only wished that
10,000 people had been present, for I felt that I was speaking out,
face to face, plain simple words of truth.

'The effect at the time was no doubt very remarkable. The Dean of
Melbourne, e.g., said publicly that no such earnestness in religious,
matters had ever been exhibited there. The plan of Mission work was
simple, practicable, commended itself to hard-headed men of business.
Many came to hear who had been disgusted with the usual sentiment-
alism and twaddle, the absence of knowledge of human nature, the
amount of conventional prejudice, &c. They were induced to come by
friends who represented that this was something quite different, and
these men went away convinced in many cases, seconding resolutions
and paying subscriptions.

'I said what was true, that I was the mouthpiece of the Bishop of New
Zealand; that I could speak freely of the plan of the Mission, for it
was not my plan, &c. How I was carried through it all, I can't say.
I was unusually well, looked and felt bright, and really after a
while enjoyed it, though I was always glad when my share in the
speechifying was over. Yet I did feel it a blessing, and a
privilege, to stand up there and speak out; and I did speak out, and
told them their plain duties, not appealing to feelings, but aiming
at convincing the judgment. I told 1,500 people in church at Sydney,
"I speak as to wise men, judge ye what I say." Do you know, Fan, I
almost feel that if I live a few years I ought to write a book,
unless I can get the Primate to do it? So much that is self-evident
to us, I now see to be quite unknown to many good educated men. I
don't mean a silly book, but a very simple statement of general
principles of Christian work, showing the mode that must be adopted
in dealing with men as partakers of a common nature, coupled with the
many modifications and adaptations to circumstances which equally
require special gifts of discernment and wisdom from on high. Then
occasional narratives, by way of illustration, to clench the
statement of principles, might be introduced; but I can't write, what
I might write if I chose, folios of mere events without deducing from
them some maxims for Christian practice.'

The impression produced was deep and lasting at all the Australian
capitals, including Brisbane.

A plan was even set on foot for transferring a part of the Melanesian
school to a little island not far from the coast of Queensland, in a
much warmer climate than Kohimarama, where it was thought Australian
natives might be gathered in.

Here is the description of the place, written a day or two after the
return to New Zealand:--

'St. Andrew's: April 27, 1864.

'My dear Cousin,--I returned on the 24th from Australia. I visited
the dioceses of Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane.
Everywhere I met with great encouragement; and indeed, I thank God
that (as I had hoped) the special work of the Mission became the
means of exciting unusual interest in the work of the Church
generally. It was a great opportunity, a great privilege in the
crowded meetings to tell people face to face their duties, to stand
up as the apologist of the despised Australian black, and the Chinese
gold-digger, and the Melanesian islander.

'All the Primate had taught me--what heathenism is, how to deal with
it, the simple truisms about the "common sin, common redemption," the
capacity latent in every man, because he is a man, and not a fallen
angel nor a brute beast, the many conventional errors on Mission
(rather) ministerial work--many, many things I spoke of very fully
and frequently. I felt it was a great responsibility. How strange
that I forgot all my nervous dread, and only wished there could be
thousands more present, for I knew that I was speaking words of
truth, of hope, and love; and God did mercifully bless much that He
enabled, me to say, and men's hearts were struck within them, though,
indeed, I made no effort to excite them.

'Much may result from it. We may have a branch school on the S.W.
of Curtis Island, on the east coast of Queensland, healthy, watered,
wooded, with anchorage, about 25° S. latitude, a fair wind to and
from some of the islands; to which place I could rapidly carry away
sick persons.

'There I could convey two hundred or more scholars, in the same time
required to bring sixty to New Zealand; there yams can be grown;
there it may be God's will that a work may be commenced at length
among the remnant that is left of the Australian blacks. The latter
consideration is very strongly urged upon me by the united voice of
the Australian Churches, by none more strongly than by the Bishop of
Sydney. I dare to hope that the communion of the Australian and New
Zealand Churches will be much strengthened by the Mission as a link.
What blessings, what mercies!

'This will not involve an abandonment of St Andrew's, but the work
must expand. I think Australia will supply near 1,000 pounds a year,
perhaps more before long.

'To teach me that all is in His hands, we have again had a visitation
from dysentery. It has been very prevalent everywhere, no medical
men remember such a season. We have lost from consumption two, and
from dysentery six this year; in fourteen months not less than
fourteen: more than in all the other years put together. Marvellous
to relate, all our old baptized and confirmed scholars are spared to
us. Good-bye, and God ever bless and keep you.

'Your affectionate cousin,

'J. C. PATTESON, Bishop.'

One of these deaths was that of Kareambat, the little New Caledonian
confided to the Bishop of New Zealand by poor Basset. He had been
christened on the previous Epiphany.

No doubt this grief on coming home increased the effect of this year
of trial. Indeed even on the voyage there had been this admission,
'Somehow I don't feel right with all this holiday; I have worked
really very hard, but "change of work is the best holiday." I don't
feel springy. I am not so young as I was, that's the truth of it,
and this life is not likely to be a long one. Yet when used up for
this work, absence of continual anxiety and more opportunity of
relaxation may carry a man on without his being wholly useless!'

The Maori war was a constant grief and anxiety to all the friends on
shore, and there was thus evidently much less elasticity left to meet
the great shock that was preparing for the voyagers in the expedition
of 1864. Mr. Codrington was not of the party, having been obliged to
go to England to decide whether it was possible to give himself
wholly to the Mission; and the staff therefore consisted of Mr.
Pritt, Mr. Kerr, and Mr. Palmer, with Mr. Joseph Atkin, whose journal
his family have kindly put at my disposal.

The endeavour was to start after the Ascension Day Communion, but
things were not forward enough. May was not, however, very far
advanced before the 'Southern Cross' was at sea.

On May 17, Norfolk Island was visited, and Edwin Nobbs and Fisher
Young had what proved to be their last sight, of their home and
friends. The plan was to go on to Nengone and Erromango, take up the
stores sent to the latter place from Sydney, drop the two clergymen
at Mota, and after a stay there, go to the New Hebrides, and then
take up the party, and if possible leave them to make experiment of
Curtis Island, while going to those Santa Cruz islands for which he
always seems to have had such a yearning.

'I feel as usual,' he finishes the letter sent from Norfolk Island,
'that no one can tell what may be the issue of such voyages. I pray
and trust that God will mercifully reveal to me "what I ought to do,
and give me grace and power to fulfil the same."

'I have now been for some time out of the way of this kind of work,
but I hope that all may be safely ordered for us. It is all in His
hands; and you all feel, as I try to do, that there should be no
cause for anxiety or trouble.

'Yet there are moments when one has such an overwhelming sense of
one's sins and negligences provoking God to chastise one. I know
that His merciful intention towards men must be accomplished, and on
the whole I rest thankfully in that, and feel that He will not suffer
my utter unworthiness to hinder His work of love and goodness.'

At Mota, Mr. Atkin's journal shows to what work a real helper needed
to be trained:--

'The Mission-house had lost its roof in a gale of wind. The epidemic
that was raging last year did not seem to have continued long after
with such violence; some more of the people were dead, but not very
many. We took off all the Mota boys, and things that were wanted in
three boat-loads, the last time leaving the Bishop. There was,
fortunately, very little surf, and we got nothing wet, but as the
tide was high, we had to carry the things over the coral reefs with
the water a little above our knees.

'About an hour later we dropped anchor at Vanua Lava. On Saturday
morning I went ashore with the boat, and got water for washing and
sand for scrubbing decks, and several tons of taro and yams
discharged on board the vessel. Then made another trip, left all the
boys on shore for a holiday, and took off twelve or fourteen cwt. of
yams, taro, and cocoa-nuts. After dinner and washing up, went to
fetch boys back. Where we bought the yams there was such a surf
breaking that we could not haul the boat on the beach, and we had to
wade and carry them out. After we got on board, we had a bathe. Two
of the Solomon Islanders distinguished themselves by jumping off the
fore-yard, and diving under the ship. Mr. Tilly and the mates had
been stowing, and the rest of us had been getting yams all day, and
if our friends could have seen us then, haggard-looking and dirty,
singing choruses to nigger melodies, how shocked they would have
been!

'Next Thursday went across to Mota, took the Bishop on board, and
sailed south as fast as possible.

'Sunday morning we were at the entrance of the passage between Ambrym
and Mallicolo, without a breath of wind. We had service at 10 A.M.;
and in the afternoon, psalms and hymns and chants in the cabin, the
Bishop doing most of the singing.

'June 6th.--On Monday morning we landed at the old place at Tariko.
We began to buy some yams. The Bishop and William Pasvorang went
ashore, and the rest of us stayed in the boat, keeping her afloat and
off the reefs. Unfortunately the place where we landed was neutral
ground between two tribes, who both brought yams to the place to
sell. One party said another was getting too many hatchets, and two
or three drew off and began shooting at the others. One man stood
behind the Bishop, a few feet from him, and fired away in the crowd
with a will. The consternation and alarm of both parties were very
ludicrous. Some of each set were standing round the boat, armed with
bows and arrows, but they were so frightened that they never seemed
to think of using them, but ran off as hard as they could scamper to
the shallow water, looking over their shoulders to see if the
enemies' arrows were after them. One arrow was fired at the Bishop
from the shore, and one hit the boat just as we pushed off.

'The Bishop himself says of this fray:--"I was in the middle, one man
only remained by me, crouching under the lee of the branch of the
tree, and shooting away from thence within a yard of me. I did not
like to leave the steel-yard, and I had to detach it from the rope
with which it was tied to the tree, and the basket too was half full
of yams and heavy, so that it was some time before I got away, and
walked down the beach, and waded to the boat, shooting going on all
round at the time; no one shooting at me, yet as they shot on both
sides of me at each other, I was thankful to get well out of it. I
thought of him who preserves from "the arrow that flieth by day," as
He has so mercifully preserved so many of us from "the sickness."
Now don't go and let this little affair be printed.'

At Parama there was a friendly landing. At Sopevi Mr. Atkin says:
'We could not find the landing place where the Bishop two years ago
found several people. We saw three or four on the shore. They were
just the same colour as the dust from the volcano. What a wretched
state they must be in! If they go to the neighbouring-isles they
will be killed as enemies, and if they stay at home they are
constantly suffocated by the ashes, which seemed to have fallen
lately to the depth of more than afoot.'

At Mallicolo a landing place was found, and an acquaintance begun by
means of gifts of calico. At Leper's Island St. Barnabas Day was
celebrated by bringing off two boys, but here again was peril. The
Bishop writes:--

'The people, though constantly fighting, and cannibals and the rest
of it, are to me very attractive, light-coloured, and some very
handsome. As I sat on the beach with a crowd about me, most of them
suddenly jumped up and ran off. Turning my head I saw a man (from
the boat they saw two men) a few yards from me, corning to me with
club uplifted. I remained sitting, and held out a few fish-hooks to
him, but one or two men jumped up and seizing him by the waist forced
him off. After a few minutes (lest they should think I was
suspicious of them), I went back to the boat. I found out from the
two young men who went away with me from another place, just what I
expected to hear, viz. that a poor fellow called Moliteum was shot
dead two months ago by a trader for stealing a bit of calico. The
wonder was, not that they wanted to avenge the death of their
kinsman, but that the others should have prevented it. How could
they possibly know that I was not one of the wicked set? Yet they
did discriminate; and here again, always by the merciful Providence
of God, the plan of going among the people unarmed and unsuspiciously
has been seen to disarm their mistrust and to make them regard me as
a friend.'