Books: Life of John Coleridge Patteson

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

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62

John Patteson's reply, read with a voice broken by emotion, is so
touching in its manly simplicity and humility that a paragraph or two
may well be quoted:--

'Mine,' he said, 'is one of the many instances which I know that a
public man without pre-eminent abilities, if he will but exert such
as it has pleased God to bestow on him honestly and industriously,
and without ostentation, is sure to receive public approbation fully
commensurate with, and generally much beyond, his real merits; and I
thank God if I shall be found not to have fallen entirely short in
the use of those talents which He has entrusted to me.' Then, after
some words on the misfortune that necessitated his withdrawal, he
continued, 'I am aware that on some, and I fear too many, occasions I
have given way to complaints and impatient expressions towards the
Bar and the witnesses in Court, as if they were to blame when, in
truth, it was my own deficiency; and heartily sorry have I been and
am for such want of control over myself. I have striven against its
recurrence earnestly, though not always successfully. My brethren on
the Bench, and you, and the public, have been very kind and indulgent
to me; the recollection of which will remain with, and be a great
solace to me for the rest of my life.

'And now, gentlemen, I bid you farewell most affectionately. I wish
you many years of health and happiness, of success and honour in your
liberal profession; the duties of which have been and are and I trust
ever will be performed, not only with the greatest zeal, learning,
and ability, but with the highest honour and integrity, and a deep
sense of responsibility to God and to man, and which being so
performed, are, in my humble judgment, eminently conducive, under the
blessing of God, to maintain the just prerogative of the Crown, and
the true right, liberties, and happiness of the people.'

He then rose from the Judges' seat, and bowed his farewell to the
assembly, who stood respectful and silent, except for some suppressed
tokens of emotion, for in truth to many the parting was from an old
familiar and much trusted friend.

Private letters poured in, expressive of deep regret, esteem, and
affection, and not only were gratefully read at the time, but became
to the family valuable memorials of the heartfelt appreciation gained
by a high-minded and upright course of life, and evidences that their
father had done that which is perhaps the best thing that it is
permitted to man to do here below, namely, 'served God in his
generation.'

CHAPTER IV.

FELLOWSHIP OF MERTON. 1852--1854.

In the summer of 1852 Coleridge Patteson stood for a fellowship of
Merton, obtained it, and moved into rooms there. Every college has a
distinctive character; and Merton, if not actually the eldest, is at
least one of the oldest foundations at Oxford, and is one of the most
unchanged in outward aspect. There is a peculiar charm in the beauty
and seclusion of the quadrangle, in the library, still mediaeval even
to the fittings; and the church is above all impressive in the
extraordinary loveliness of the early decorated architecture, and the
space and loftiness of the choir. The whole, pre-eminently among the
colleges, gives the sense of having been unaltered for five hundred
years, yet still full of life and vigour.

Coley attached himself to Merton, though he never looked to permanent
residence there. The Curacy in the immediate neighbourhood of his
home was awaiting him, as soon as he should be ordained; but though
his purpose was unchanged and he was of full age for Holy Orders, he
wished for another year of preparation, so as to be able to study
both Hebrew and theology more thoroughly than would be possible when
pastoral labour should have begun. What he had already seen of
Dresden convinced him that he could there learn Hebrew more
thoroughly and more cheaply than at home, and to this he intended to
devote the Long Vacation of 1852, without returning to Feniton.
There the family were settling themselves, having given up the house
in Bedford Square, since James Patteson had chambers in King's Bench
Walk, where the ex-Judge could be with him when needed in London.
There had some notion of the whole family profiting by Sir John's
emancipation to take a journey on the Continent, and the failure of
the scheme elicited the following letter:--

'Merton: June 18.

'My dearest Fan,--I can, to a certain extent, sympathise with you
thoroughly upon this occasion; the mere disappointment at not seeing
so many interesting places and things is a sharp one, but in your
instance this is much increased by the real benefit you hoped to
derive from a warmer climate; and no wonder that the disappearance of
your hopes coupled with bodily illness makes you low and
uncomfortable. The weather too is trying to mind and body, and
though you try as usual to shake off the sense of depression which
affects you, your letter is certainly sad, and written like the
letter of one in weak health. Well, we shall see each other, please
GOD, at Christmas now. That is better than passing nearly or quite a
year away from each other; and some other time I hope you will be
able to go to Italy, and enjoy all the wonders there, though a tour
for health's sake cannot be too soon. It is never too soon to get
rid of an ailment....

'I find that I am getting to know the undergraduates here, which is
what I wanted to do; it is my only chance of being of any use. True,
that I have to do it at the expense of two half-days' cricketing,
which I have quite ceased to care about, but I know that when I went
up to Balliol, I was glad when a Fellow played with us. It was a
guarantee for orderly conduct, and as I say, it gives me an
opportunity of knowing men. I hope to leave London for Dresden on
Monday week; Arthur is gone thither, as I find out from Jem, and I
hope the scheme will answer. If I find I can't work, from my eyes,
or anything else, preventing me, I shall come home, but I have no
reason to expect any such thing. My best love to Joan and all
friends.

'Your loving Brother,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

The 'Arthur' here mentioned was the youngest son of Mr. Frank
Coleridge, and became Coley's companion at Dresden, where he was
studying German. He writes:--

'Patteson spoke German fluently, and wrote German correctly. He had
studied the language assiduously for about two years previously, and
so successfully that whilst we were at Dresden, he was enabled to
dispense with a teacher and make his assistance little more than
nominal. Occasionally he wrote a German exercise, but rather as an
amusement than a discipline, and merely with the view of enlarging
his German vocabulary. I remember his writing an elaborate
description of Feniton Court, and imagining the place to be
surrounded with trees belonging to all sorts of climates. The result
was very amusing to ourselves, and added to the writer's stock of
words on particular subjects. When our master Schier appeared, the
conversation was led by a palpable ambuscade to the topic which had
been made the subject of Patteson's exercise, and conversation helped
to strengthen memory. After looking over a few of Patteson's German
exercises, Mr. Schier found so little to correct, in the way of
grammatical errors, that these studies were almost relinquished, and
gave way to Arabic and Hebrew. Before we left Dresden, Patteson had
read large portions of the Koran; and, with the aid of Hurwitz's
Grammar and Bernhard's Guide to Hebrew Students, books familiar to
Cambridge men, he was soon able to read the Psalms in the original.
I remember the admiration and despair I felt in witnessing Patteson's
progress, and the wonder expressed by his teacher in his pupil's gift
of rapid acquirement. We had some excellent introductions; amongst
others, to Dr. ----, a famous theologian, with whom Patteson was fond
of discussing the system and organisation of the Church in Saxony.
Up to the time of his leaving England he was constantly using
Olshausen's Commentary on the New Testament, a book he was as
thoroughly versed in as Archbishop Trench himself. I think that he
consulted no other books in his study of the Gospels, but Olshausen
and Bengel's Gnomon.

'In our pleasures at Dresden there was a mixture of the utile with
the dulce. Our constant visits to the theatre were strong incentives
to a preparatory study of the plays of Goethe, Schiller, and Lessing.
What noble acting we saw in that Dresden theatre!

'With regard to the opera, I have never seen Weber or Meyerbeer's
works given so perfectly and conscientiously as at Dresden.
Patteson's chief delight was the Midsummer Night's Dream, with
Mendelssohn's music. He had a tuneful baritone voice and a correct
ear for music. We hired a piano for our sitting-room; and, though I
failed to induce him to cultivate his voice, and join me in taking
lessons, he sang some of Mendelssohn's Lieder very pleasingly, and
knew most of the bass music from the Messiah by heart. He began to
play a few scales on the piano, and hoped to surprise his sisters on
his return to England by playing chants, but the Arabic and Hebrew
studies proved too absorbing; he grudged the time, and thought the
result disproportioned to the sacrifice.

'In our daily walks we talked constantly of Church matters. Some
sharp and sad experiences in the loss of more than one of his Eton
and Oxford friends, who had abandoned the Church of England, failed
to shake his confidence in the Church he was to serve so faithfully
and to die for so gloriously. His faith and daily practice seem to
me a protest and warning against the folly, if not the falsehood, of
extremes. Moderation, quiet consistency of life, and unswerving
loyalty to a faith which had been the joy and comfort of his dear
mother, whose loveable nature he inherited and reflected, a blameless
life and unfailing charity enabled him when the time came to live a
life of incessant toil, and face a martyr's death. I remember the
present Bishop of Carlisle inciting Cambridge undergraduates to
become, by virtue of earnestness, gentleness, and toleration, "guides
not judges, lights not firebrands." He drew a perfect description of
Patteson, who came more completely up to that ideal than anyone I
ever knew. Here was a man capable of the purest and most tender
friendship, with an exquisite appreciation of all that is noblest in
life, and he was ready to give up all, and content to lead the
forlorn hope of Christianity, and perish in the front ranks of the
noble army. "And having been a little tried he shall be greatly
rewarded, for God proved him, and found him worthy for Himself." '

I have given this letter almost entire, because it shows the
impression Coley made on one, little his junior, in the intimate
associations of cousin, neighbour, and schoolfellow, as well as
travelling companion.

This year seems to have been a marked stage of development. He was
now twenty-five, and the boyish distaste for mental exertion which
had so long rendered study an effort of duty had passed into full
scholarly enjoyment. The individuality and originality of his mind
had begun to awaken, and influenced probably by the German atmosphere
of thought in which he was working, were giving him that strong
metaphysical bent which characterised his tone through life, and
became apparent in his sermons when he addressed an educated
audience.

Here is a letter to his eldest sister: 'The weather has been better
suited for work, and I feel pretty well satisfied with my Hebrew.
What makes it so difficult is principally this, that as it is an
Oriental language, it is entirely different in structure, and in its
inflections, &c., from any language I ever came across. I can't fall
back upon anything already learnt to help me; but I see my way pretty
clear now, and shall soon have little more than a knowledge of the
meaning of the words to learn, which is only a matter of patience,
and can be learnt with a good dictionary and practice. A real
complete knowledge of the grammar is of course the great thing.

'The great Dresden fair, called the Vogelschiesser, is going on; it
began last Sunday and ends next Sunday. About half a mile from the
town there is a very large meadow by the river, where a small town of
booths, tents, &c., is erected, and where shooting at targets with
wooden darts, sham railway-trains and riding-horses, confectionery of
every kind, beer of every name, strength, and colour, pipes, cigars,
toys, gambling, organ-grinding, fiddling, dancing, &c., goes on
incessantly. The great attraction, however, is the shooting at the
bird, which occupies the attention of every Saxon, and is looked upon
as the consummation of human invention and physical science. A great
pole, nearly 80 feet high, is erected with a wooden bird, about the
size of a turkey, at the top; to hit this with a crossbow from a
regular stand, about 50 feet from the foot of the pole, is the
highest ambition of this great people. The accompaniments are rich
in the extreme: cannon firing, drums rolling, for a successful shot,
the shooting society, who exist only for the sole honour and glory of
hacking this bird to pieces, the presence of the King, I think to-
day, and the intense interest taken in the amusement by the whole
population; certainly the Germans are satisfied with less than any
people I ever saw (barring two things, smoke and beer, in which they
are insatiable). I went out to see it all, but it rather bored me
after an hour or so. Tom F---- and I threw some dice for a pair of
braces for Arthur, which we presented in due form; and we had some
shots at the targets--mine were eminently unsuccessful.

'Last night we had a great treat. Emil Devrient, who has been acting
in London, you know, came back, and acted Marquis Posa in "Don
Carlos." The play acts very much better than it reads. Schiller
certainly has great dramatic genius; only I agree with Goethe that
there is always a longing for exhibiting cruelty in its most
monstrous form, and refinement of cruelty and depravity overstepping
almost the natural conditions of humanity. I always thought Iago
about the most awful character in Shakspeare; but Schiller's Philip
II. is something beyond even this, without perhaps so much necessity
for the exhibition of this absolute delight in evil. It is long
since I have been so excited in a theatre. I was three rows from the
stage, heard and understood everything, and was so completely carried
away by the grandeur and intense feeling of Devrient (who was well
supported by the Don Carlos), that I had some difficulty to keep
quiet, and feel to-day rather odd, shaken, as it were, from such a
strain upon the feelings.'

Here is a letter, enclosed within one to his sister Fanny on
September 9, written on a scrap of paper. The apologetic tone of
confession is amusing:--

'My dearest Father,--I have not before told you that I have been at
work for just three weeks upon a new subject; reading, however,
Hebrew every day almost for three hours as well. Schier is not a
great Hebraist; and I found the language in one sense easier than I
expected, so that with good grammar and dictionary I can quite get on
by myself, reading an easy part of the Bible (historical books, e.g.}
at the rate of about twenty-five verses an hour. Well, I began to
think that I ought to use the opportunities that Dresden affords. I
know that Hebrew is not a rich language; that many words occur only
once, and consequently have an arbitrary meaning attached to them,
unless they can be illustrated from cognate languages. Now I have a
taste for these things, and have in three weeks progressed so far in
my new study as to feel sure I shall make it useful; and so I tell
you without fear I am working at Arabic. I hope you won't think it
silly. It is very hard, and for ten days was as hard work as I ever
had in my life. I think I have learnt enough to see my way now, and
this morning read the first chapter of Genesis in three-quarters of
an hour. It is rich, beyond all comparison, in inflexions; and the
difficulty arises from the extreme multiplicity of all its forms:
e.g. each verb having not only active, middle, and passive voices,
but the primitive active having not less than thirty-five derivative
forms and the passive thirteen. The "noun of action,"--infinitive
with article (to akonein) of the Greek--is again different for each
voice or form; and the primitive can take any of twenty-two forms,
which are not compounded according to any rule. Again, there are
twenty-eight sets of irregular plurals, which are quite arbitrary.
No grammarian has ever given any explanation about them. All mere
matters of memory. The very alphabet shows the richness of the
language. There are twenty-nine letters, besides vowel points; and
each letter is written in four different ways, so that it is
different when isolated, when in the beginning, middle, or end of a
word. It took me some hours to learn them. In very many respects,
it is closely allied to the Hebrew, so that everybody who writes
Hebrew grammars and lexicons necessarily has much to do with Arabic;
and a knowledge of it may be of great use in clearing up difficulties
in the Bible. My year in Oxford will enable me to go on with it, for
in three weeks more I hope to be able to go on alone. To-morrow I
begin the Koran. My lessons will not in all exceed 31; and I really
should have gone on, perhaps, not much faster with Hebrew if I had
worked it exclusively; and it is hard to read so many hours at one
thing: and I may say, now without doubt, that I have laid the
foundation for a study of Oriental languages, if I have time and
opportunity that may be fairly given to them. Think what one hour a
day is, and the pleasure to me is very great, and I feel that I have
a knack rather (if I may say so) of laying hold of these things.
Don't mention it to anyone.'

There the fragment breaks off; and in a letter of August 29 there
occurs this reply to a message from his eldest sister:--

'Thank dear Joan for her caution: I know I need it sadly, especially
now when I am at work upon somewhat out-of-the-way subjects, and feel
the danger of forgetting that if I mistake the means for the end, and
feel gratified with the mere intellectual amusement, I am doing very
wrong, even when I am working very hard at very difficult matters. I
like these things, I must confess, and the time is so well adapted to
work here, and now that the weather is cool I can secure every day a
good long time to myself.' In the enclosed letter he announces that
he shall leave Dresden in another three weeks. He says:--

'We have had a steady working time of it here; and as I know some
members of the family rather discourage these Continental flights, I
just sum up the advantages thereof. Being naturally endowed with a
love of music, the probability is, that when you, Clara, and Miss
Horsley are together in the house, as soon as a Lied or Sonata began,
away would go my books, or at all events my thoughts. You know well
that the piano goes at all hours, and always in the morning at home.
Then riding,, walking with Father, long sitting after dinner, &c. do
not improve the chances for reading. In fact, you know that what
with visitors from without, friends within, parties, &c., I should
have had very little reading in the vacation, and that not through my
own fault--not a Stilbehen in the house could protect me from music.
Here I make my own time, and last week my eyes were troublesome. I
walked twice every day, exactly at the hour when I most wanted it;
and without nonsense, I may say that I have in two months done really
a great deal more than I could have done at home even with masters.
This all applies to Arthur just as much. He has read German
exclusively most of the time, and knows as well as I do that it is
not possible to work at home. If I could go on just as well as with
Mendelssohn ringing in my ears, it would be different, but I can't.
You remember how pleasant, but how very idle, last vacation was, and
especially the last six weeks of it!'

Then, after much about family matters, commissions, and little gifts
which he was collecting for all at home--

I should like to get something for everybody, but that is not
possible. Luckily, my lessons are less expensive than I expected,
and, considering the work, wonderfully cheap. I make good progress,
I can say; but the difficulty is great enough to discourage any but a
real "grinder" at such work. I have written a scrap for Father, and
you will see that I am working away pretty well. I have finished my
introductory book, consisting of forty-one fables; and though
difficulties present themselves always to really good scholars from
time to time, the Bible is not one of the hardest books, not so hard,
e.g. as the Koran. Now I can at any future time, if the opportunity
comes, go on with these things, and I hope find them really useful.
I know you like to hear what I am doing; but be sure to keep it all
quiet, let no one know but Father and Joan. You might carelessly
tell it to anyone in fun, and I don't wish it to be known.
Especially don't let any of the family know. Time enough if I live
out my Oxford year, and have really mastered the matter pretty well.
Remember this is taken up with a view to elucidate and explain what
is so very hard in Hebrew. Hebrew is to be the Hauptsache, this the
Hulfsmittel, or some day I hope one of several such helps. It is
very important to accustom one's mind to the Denk and Anschauungswerk
of the Orientals, which is so different from that of Europeans or
their language. How hard are the metaphors of the Bible for this
reason!'

There is something in all these long apologies and strenuous desire
for secrecy about these Arabic studies that reminds one that the
character was a self-conscious introspective one, always striving for
humility, and dreading to be thought presumptuous. A simpler nature,
if devoid of craving for home sympathy, would never have mentioned
the new study at all; or if equally open-hearted, would have let the
mention of it among home friends take its chance, without troubling
himself as to their possible comments. Indeed, it is curious to
observe how elaborate he was at this period about all his concerns,
meditating over the cause of whatever affected him. It was a form of
growth; and dropped off when the time of action arrived, and his
character had shaped itself. It must be remembered, too, that his
habit of pouring out all his reflections and feelings to his sisters,
and their preservation of his letters, have left much more on record
of these personal speculations than is common.

His father made a much simpler matter of the Arabic matter, in the
following characteristic letter:--

'Feniton Court: September 14, 1852,

'My dearest Coley,--So far from thinking you wrong in learning
Arabic, I feel sure that you are quite right. However, we shall keep
your secret, and not say anything about it. I am heartily glad that
you should acquire languages, modern as well as ancient. You know I
have often pressed the former on your and Jem's notice, from myself
feeling my deficiency and regret at it. I can well understand that
Arabic, and I should suppose Syriac also, must be of the greatest use
towards a true understanding of much of the Old Testament: a great
deal of which is doubtless not understood by those who understand
only our translation, or even the Septuagint, which I suspect to have
many passages far from a faithful vehicle of the meaning of the
original. I was greatly delighted with your theological letter, so
to speak, as well as with the first, and look to have some jolly
conversations with you on such subjects.

'We have many more partridges than our neighbours, and Jem shoots
uncommonly well. Three double shots yesterday. I shoot worse than
usual; and cannot walk without much fatigue and frequent pain, so
that I shall not be able to work enough to get much sport. I got
through the Mary Church affair very well--that is, not making a fool
of myself--and if I did not do much good, I think I did no harm. The
Bishop of Exeter [Phillpotts] is mightily pleased, and wrote me a
letter to that effect. Of course I cannot tell you what I said, it
would be too long, nor are you likely to see it. It was fully
inserted in "Woolmer," and from him copied into the "Guardian."

'I live in hopes to see you well and hearty at Oxford on the 14th of
October, till when, adieu, God bless you.

'Your affectionate Father,

'J. PATTESON.'

The interview with the Bishop of Sydney never took place, for the
excellent Bishop Broughton arrived with health shattered by his
attendance on the sufferers from fever in the ship which brought him
from St. Thomas, and he did not long survive his landing.

The 'Mary Church affair' here referred to was the laying the
foundation-stone of the Church, built or restored, it is hard to say
which, on the lines of the former one, and preserving the old tower,
at St. Mary Church, near Torquay. Though the death of the Rev. Gr.
M. Coleridge had broken one tie with the place, it continued to be
much beloved by the Patteson family, and Sir John had taken so much
share in the church-building work as to be asked to be the layer of
the corner-stone. The speech he made at the ensuing luncheon excited
much attention and the sisters took care that their brother should
not miss reading it. The stay at Dresden was drawing to an end; and
he was preparing to return through Berlin, intending to go direct to
Oxford and reside there till the summer, when he meant to seek
ordination and enter on the Curacy at Alfington. He says to his
sister Joanna:--