Books: Life of John Coleridge Patteson

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

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'You know what one always feels, that one can't be unhappy about good
people, whatever happens to them. I do so enjoy your talk about
Church works in England. It makes the modern phraseology
intelligible. I know now what is meant by "missions" and
"missioners" and "retreats."

'I was thinking lately of George Herbert at Hereford, as I read the
four sermons which Vaughan lately preached there, one on the
Atonement, which I liked very much indeed. The Cathedral has been
beautifully restored, has it not? Then, I think of you in York
Minster on November 20, with that good text from Psalm xcvi. I read
your letter on Tuesday; on which day our morning Psalms in Chapel are
always chanted, xcv., xcvi., xcvii. The application seems very
natural, but to work out those applications is difficult. The more I
read sermons, and I read a good many, the more I wonder how men can
write them!

'Mind, I will gladly pay Charley ten shillings a sermon, if he will
copy it out for me. It will do the boy good. Dear old Tutor used to
fag me to write copies of the Bishop's long New Zealand letters, as I
wrote a decent hand then. Don't I remember a long one from Anaiteum,
and how I wondered where on earth or sea Anaiteum could be!

'I want to hear men talk on these matters (the Eucharistic question)
who represent the view that is least familiar to me. And then I
feel, when it comes to a point of Greek criticism, sad regret and
almost remorse at my old idleness and foolish waste of time when I
might have made myself a decent scholar. I cram up passages, instead
of applying a scholarly habit of mind to the examination of them.
And now too, it is harder than ever to correct bad habits of
inattention, inaccuracy, &c. I am almost too weary oftentimes to do
my work anyhow, much less can I make an effort to improve my way of
doing it. But I must be content, thankful to get on somehow or
other, and to be able to teach the fellows something.

'It is quite curious to see how often one is baffled in one's
attempts to put oneself en rapport with the Melanesian mind. If one
can manage it, they really show one that they know a good deal, not
merely by heart, or as matter of memory, that is worth little; but
they show that they can think. But often they seem utterly stupid
and lost, and one is perplexed to know what their difficulty can
possibly be. One thing is clear, that they have little faculty of
generalization. As you know, they seldom have a name for their
island, but only names for each tiny headland, and bay, and village.
The name for the island you must learn from the inhabitants of
another island who view the one whose name you are seeking as one
because, being distant, it must appear to them in its oneness, not in
its many various parts. Just so, they find it very difficult to
classify any ideas under general heads. Ask for details, and you get
a whole list of them. Ask for general principles, and only a few can
answer.

'For example, it is not easy to make them see how all temptations to
sin were overcome in the three representative assaults made upon Him
in the wilderness; how love is the fulfilling of the Law; or how the
violation of one Commandment is the violation (of the principle) of
all.

'Then they have much difficulty (from shyness partly, and a want of
teaching when young) in expressing themselves. They really know much
that only skilful questioning, much more skilful than mine, can get
out of them. It wants--all teaching does--a man with lots of animal
spirits, health, pluck, vigour, &c. Every year I find it more
difficult.'

To another of the New Zealand friends who had returned to England
there was a letter on Jan. 31:--

'My dear Mr. Lloyd,--I must send you a line, though I have little to
say. And I should be very sorry if we did not correspond with some
attempt at regularity.

'What can one think of long without the mind running off to France?
What a wonderful story it is! Only Old Testament language can
describe it, only a Prophet can moralise upon it. It is too dreadful
in its suddenness and extent. One fears that vice and luxury and
ungodliness have destroyed whatever of chivalry and patriotism there
once was in the French character. To think that this is the country
of St. Louis and Bayard! The Empire seems almost systematically to
have completed the demoralisation of the people. There is nothing
left to appeal to, nothing on which to rally. It is an awful thing
to see such judgments passing before our very eyes. So fearful a
humiliation may do something yet for the French people, but I dread
even worse news. It nearly came the other day to a repetition of the
old Danton and Robespierre days.

'Here we are going on happily.... I would give something to spend a
quiet Sunday with you in your old Church. How pleasant to have an
old Church.

'Always yours affectionately,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

My own last letter came at the same time:--

'Norfolk Island: February 16th, 1871.

'My dear Cousin,--I must not leave your letter of last October
without an instalment of an answer, though this is only a chance
opportunity of sending letters by a whaler, and I have only ten
minutes.

'Your account of the Southampton Congress is a regular picture. I
thinly I can see the Bishops of Winton, Sarum, and Oxon; and all that
you say by way of comment on what is going off in the Church at home
interests me exceedingly. You can't think what a treat your letters
are.

'You see Mr. Codrington is the only one of my age, and (so to say)
education here, and so to commune with one who thinks much on these
matters, which of course have the deepest interest for me, is very
pleasant and useful. On this account I do so value the Bishop of
Salisbury's letters, and it is so very kind of him to write to me in
the midst of the overwhelming occupations of an English diocese.

'I don't think you have mentioned Dr. Vaughan. I read his books with
much interest. He doesn't belong to the Keble theology; but he seems
to me to be a thoughtful, useful, and eminently practical writer. He
seems to know what men are thinking of, and to grapple with their
difficulties. I am pleased with a little book, by Canon Norris, "Key
to the New Testament": the work of a man who has read a good deal,
and thought much.

'He condenses into a 2s. 6d. book the work of years.

'You are all alive now, trying to work up your parochial schools to
"efficiency" mark--rather you were doing so, for I think there was
only time allowed up to December 31, 1870. I hope that the efforts
were successful. At such times one wishes to see great noble gifts,
men of great riches giving their £10,000 to a common fund. Then I
remember that the claims and calls are so numerous in England, that
very wealthy men can hardly give in that way.

'Certainly I am spared the temptation myself of seeing the luxury and
extravagance which must tempt one to feel hard and bitter, I should
fear. We go on quietly and happily. You know our school is large.
Thank God, we are all well, save dear old Fisher, who met with a sad
boating accident last week. A coil of the boat raft caught his ankle
as the strain was suddenly tightened by a rather heavy sea, and
literally tore the front part of his foot completely off, besides
dislocating and fracturing the ankle-bone. He bears the pain well,
and he is doing very well; but there may be latent tetanus, and I
shall not feel easy for ten days more yet.

'His smile was pleasant, and his grasp of the hand was an indication
of his faith and trust, as he answered my remark, "You know Fisher,
He does nothing without a reason: you remember our talk about the
sparrows and the hairs of our heads."

'"I know," was all he said; but the look was a whole volume....

'Your Charlotte is Fisher's wife, you know, and a worthy good
creature she is. Poor old Fisher, the first time I saw tears on his
cheeks was when his wife met him being carried up, and I took her to
him.

'The mail goes. Your affectionate Cousin,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

It may as well be here mentioned that Fisher Pantatun escaped
tetanus, lived to have his limb amputated by a medical man, who has
since come to reside at Norfolk Island, and that he has been further
provided with a wooden leg, to the extreme wonder and admiration of
his countrymen at Mota, where he has since joined the Christian
community.

The home letter, finished the last, had been begun before the first,
on Feb. 11, 'My birthday,' as the Bishop writes, adding:--'How as
time goes on we think more and more of him and miss him. Especially
now in these times, with so many difficult questions distressing and
perplexing men, his wise calm judgment would have been such a
strength and support. You know I have all his letters since I left
England, and he never missed a mail. And now it is nearly ten years
since he passed away from this world. What would he say to us all?
What would he think of all that has taken place in the interval?
Thank God, he would certainly rejoice in seeing all his children
loving each other more and more as they grow older and learn from
experience the blessedness and infrequency of such a thoroughly
united, happy set of brothers and sisters. Why, you have never
missed a single mail in all these sixteen years; and I know, in spite
of occasional differences of opinion, that there is really more than
ever of mutual love, and much more of mutual esteem than ever. There
is no blessing like this. And it is a special and unusual blessing.
And surely, next to God, we owe it to our dear parents, and perhaps
especially to him who was the one to live on as we grew up into men
and women. What should I have done out here without a perfect trust
in you three, and without your letters and loving remembrances in
boxes, &c.? I fancy that I should have broken down altogether, or
else have hardened (more than I have become) to the soft and restful
influences of the home life. I see some people really alone in these
countries, really expatriated. Now I never feel that; partly because
I have your letters, partly because I have the knowledge that, if
ever I did have to go to England, I should find all the old family
love, only intensified and deepened. I can tell you that the
consciousness of all this is a great help, and carries one along
famously. And then the hope of meeting by-and-by and for ever!'

'True to the kindred points of heaven and home.' Surely such loyalty
of heart, making a living influence of parents so long in their
graves, has been seldom, at least, put on record, though maybe it
often and often has existed.

Again, on March 8:--'Such a fit came over me yesterday of old
memories. I was reading a bit of Wordsworth (the poet).

I remembered dear dear Uncle Frank telling me how Wordsworth came
over to Ottery, and called on him, and how he felt so honoured; and
so I felt on thinking of him, and the old (pet) names, and most of
all, of course, of Father and Mother, I seemed to see them all with
unusual clearness. Then I read one of the two little notes I had
from Mr. Keble, which live in my "Christian Year," and so I went on
dreaming and thinking.

'Yes, if by His mercy I may indeed be brought to the home where they
dwell! But as the power of keen enjoyment of this world was never
mine, as it is given to bright healthy creatures with eyes and teeth
and limbs sound and firm, so I try to remember dear Father's words,
that "he did not mean that he was fit to go because there was little
that he cared to stop here for." And I don't feel morbid like, only
with a diminished capacity for enjoying things here. Of the mere
animal pleasures, eating and drinking are a serious trouble. My eyes
don't allow me to look about much, and I walk with "unshowing eye
turned towards the earth." I don't converse with ease; there is the
feeling of difficulty in framing words. I prefer to be alone and
silent. If I must talk, I like the English tongue least of all.
Melanesia doesn't have such combinations of consonants and harsh
sounds as our vernacular rejoices in. If I speak loud, as in
preaching, I am pretty clear still; but I can't read at all properly
now without real awkwardness.

'I am delighted with Shairp's "Essays" that Pena sent me. He has the
very nature to make him capable of appreciating the best and most
thoughtful writers, especially those who have a thoughtful spirit of
piety in them. He gives me many a very happy quiet hour. I wish
such a book had come in my way while I was young. I more than ever
regret that Mr. Keble's "Praelectiones" was never translated into
English. I am sure that I have neglected poetry all my life for want
of some guide to the appreciation and criticism of it, and that I am
the worse for it. If you don't use Uncle Sam's "Biographia
Literaria," and "Literary Remains," I should much like to have them.

'Do you, Fan, care to have any of my German books? I have, indeed,
scarce any but theological ones. But no one else reads German here,
and I read none but the divinity; and, indeed, I almost wish I had
them in translations, for the sake of the English type and paper.
My eyes don't like the German type at all.

'Moreover, now (it was not so years ago), all that is worth reading
in their language is in a good serviceable English dress, and passed,
moreover, through the minds of clear English thinkers--and the
Germans are such wordy, clumsy, involved writers. A man need not be
a German scholar to be well acquainted with all useful German
theology. Döllinger is almost the only clear, plain writer I know
among them. Dorner, the great Lutheran divine, gives you about two
pages and a half of close print for a single sentence--awful work,
worse than my English!... But I know that if I read less, and thought
more, it would be better. Only it is such hard work thinking, and I
am so lazy! I was amused at hearing, through another lad, of Edward
Wogale's remark, "This helping in translation" (a revisal of the
"Acts" in Mota) "is such hard work!" "Yes, my boy, brain work takes
it out of you." I wish I had Jem's power of writing reports,
condensing evidence into clear reliable statements. Lawyers get that
power; while we Clergymen are careless and inaccurate, because, as
old Lord Campbell said, "there is no reply to our sermons."

'What would I give to have been well drilled in grammar, and made an
accurate scholar in old days! Ottery School and Eton didn't do much
for me in that way, though of course the fault was chiefly in myself.

'But most of all, I think that I regret the real loss to us Eton boys
of the weekly help that Winchester, Rugby, and Harrow boys had from
Moberly, Arnold, and Vaughan in their sermons! I really think that
might have helped to keep us out of harm!

'It is now 4.30 P.M., calm and hot. Such a tiger-lily on my table,
and the pretty delicate achimenes, and the stephanotis climbing up
the verandah, and a bignonia by its side, with honeysuckle all over
the steps, and jessamine all over the two water-tanks at the angle of
the verandah. The Melanesians have, I think, twenty-nine flower
gardens, and they bring the flowers, &c.--lots of flowers, and the
oleanders are a sight! Some azaleas are doing well, verbenas,
hibiscus of all kinds. Roses and, alas! clove carnations, and
stocks, and many of the dear old cottage things won't grow well.
Scarlet passion flowers and splendid Japanese lilies of perfect white
or pink or spotted. The golden one I have not yet dared to buy.
They are most beautiful. I like both the red and the yellow tritoma;
we have both. But I don't think we have the perfume of the English
flowers, and I miss the clover and buttercup. And what would I give
for an old-fashioned cabbage rose, as big as a saucer, and for fresh
violets, which grow here but have little scent, and lilies of the
valley! Still more, fancy seeing a Devonshire bank in spring, with
primroses and daisies, or meadows with cowslip and clover and
buttercups, and hearing thrushes and blackbirds and larks and
cuckoos, and seeing trout rise to the flies on the water! There is
much exaggeration in second-rate books about tropical vegetation.
You are really much better off than we are. No trees equal English
oaks, beeches, and elms, and chestnuts; and with very little expense
and some care, you have any flowers you like, growing out of doors or
in a greenhouse. You can make a warmer climate, and we can't a
colder one. But we have plenty to look at for all that. There,
what a nice hour I have spent in chatting with you!'

This same dreamy kind of 'chat,' full of the past, and of quiet
meditation over the present, reminding one of Bunyan's Pilgrims in
the Land of Beulah, continues at intervals through the sheets written
while waiting for the 'Southern Cross.' Here is a note (March 14) of
the teaching:--

'I am working at the Miracles with the second set, and I am able to
venture upon serious questions, viz. the connection between sin and
physical infirmity or sickness, the Demoniacs, the power of working
miracles as essential to the Second Adam, in whom the prerogative of
the Man (the ideal man according to the idea of his original
condition) was restored. Then we go pretty closely into detail on
each miracle, and try to work away till we reach a general principle
or law.

'With another class I am making a kind of Commentary on St. Luke.
With a third, trying to draw out in full the meaning of the Lord's
Prayer. With a fourth, Old Testament history. It is often very
interesting; but, apart from all sham, I am a very poor teacher. I
can discourse, or talk with equals, but I can't teach. So I don't do
justice to these or any other pupils I may chance to have. But they
learn something among us all.'

He speaks of himself as being remarkably well and free from the
discomforts of illness during the months of March and April: and
these letters show perfect peace and serenity of spirit; but his
silence and inadequacy for 'small talk' were felt like depression or
melancholy by some of his white companions, and he always seemed to
feel it difficult to rouse himself. To sit and study his Hebrew
Isaiah with Delitzsch's comment was his chief pleasure; and on his
birthday, April 1, Easter Eve, and the ensuing holy days, he read
over all his Father's letters to him, and dwelt, in the remarks to
his sisters, upon their wisdom and tenderness.

Mr. Codrington says: 'Before starting on the voyage he had confirmed
some candidates in the Church in town: on which occasion he seemed to
rouse himself with difficulty for the walk, and would go by himself;
but he was roused again by the service, and gave a spirited and
eloquent address, and came back, after a hearty meal and lively
conversation, much refreshed in mind and body. This was on Palm
Sunday. On Easter Day he held his last confirmation of three girls
and two Solomon Island boys.

Then came the 'Southern Cross,' bringing with her from New Zealand a
box with numerous books and other treasures, the pillow that the old
Bishop of Exeter was leaning on when he died; a photograph, from the
Bishop of Salisbury, of his Cathedral, and among the gifts for the
younger Melanesians, a large Noah's ark, which elicited great shouts
of delight.

'Well! [after mentioning the articles in order] all these things, and
still more the thought of the pains taken and the many loving
feelings engaged in getting them together, will help me much during
the coming months. All the little unexpected things are so many
little signs of the care and love you always have for me, and that is
more than their own value, after all. I always feel it solemn to go
off on these voyages. We have had such mercies. Fisher is doing
quite well, getting about on crutches; and that is the only hospital
case we have had during the whole summer.'

Then follows:--

'April 27th.--We start in a few hours (D.V.). The weather is better.
You have my thoughts and hopes and prayers. I am really pretty well:
and though often distressed by the thought of past sins and present
ones, yet I have a firm trust in God's mercy through Christ, and a
reasonable hope that the Holy Spirit is guiding and influencing me.
What more can I say to make you think contentedly and cheerfully
about me? God bless you all!'

So the last voyage was begun. The plan was much the same as usual.
On the way to Mota, the Bishop landed on Whitsuntide Island, and
there was told that what the people called a 'thief ship' had carried
off some of their people. Star Island was found nearly depopulated.
On May 16, the Bishop, with Mr. Bice and their scholars, landed at
Mota, and the 'Southern Cross' went on with Mr. Brooke to Florida,
where he found that the 'Snatch-snatch' vessels, as they were there
called, had carried off fifty men. They had gone on board to trade,
but were instantly clapped under hatches, while tobacco and a hatchet
were thrown to their friends in the canoe. Some canoes had been
upset by a noose from the vessel, then a gun was fired, and while the
natives tried to swim away, a boat was lowered, which picked up the
swimmers, and carried them off. One man named Lave, who jumped
overboard and escaped, had had two fingers held up to him, which he
supposed to mean two months, but which did mean two years.

It was plain that enticing having failed, violence was being resorted
to; and Mr. Brooke was left to an anxious sojourn, while Mr. Atkin
returned to Mota on his way to his own special charge at Bauro. He
says, on June 9:--

'The Bishop had just come back from a week's journeying with William
in his boat. They had been to Santa Maria, Vanua Lava, and Saddle
Island; the weather was bad, but the Bishop, although he is tired,
does not think he is any the worse for his knocking about. He is not
at all well; he is in low spirits, and has lost almost all his
energy. He said, while talking about the deportation of islanders to
Fiji, that he didn't know what was to be done; all this time had been
spent in preparing teachers qualified to teach their own people, but
now when the teachers were provided, all the people were taken away.
The extent to which the carrying off of the natives has gone is
startling. It certainly is time for us to think what is to be done
next. I do not think that it is an exaggerated estimate, others
would say it is under the mark, that one half the population of the
Banks Islands over ten years of age have been taken away. I am
trying not to expect anything about the Solomon Islands before we are
there, but we have heard that several vessels have cargoes from
there. If the people have escaped a little longer for their
wildness, it will not be for long.

'The Bishop still remained at Mota, while I went back to the Solomon
Islanders. The cliffs of Mota, and perhaps the intelligence of the
people, had comparatively protected it, though Port Patteson had
become a station of the "labour ships." The village of Kohimarama
was not a disappointment.'

Bishop Patteson proceeds:--

'Things are very different. I think that we may, without danger,
baptize a great many infants and quite young children--so many
parents are actually seeking Christian teaching themselves, or
willing to give their children to be taught. I think that some
adults, married men, may possibly be baptized. I should think that
not less than forty or fifty are daily being taught twice a day, as a
distinct set of Catechumens. Besides this, some of the women seem to
be in earnest.

'About two hours and a half are spent daily by me with about twenty-
three grown-up men. They come, too, at all hours, in small parties,
two or three, to tell their thoughts and feelings, how they are
beginning to pray, what they say, what they wish and hope, &c.

'There is more indication than I ever saw here before of a
"movement," a distinct advance, towards Christianity. The
distinction between passively listening to our teaching, and
accepting it as God's Word and acting upon it, seems to be clearly
felt. I speak strongly and habitually about the necessity of
baptism. "He that believeth, and is baptized" &c. Independently of
the doctrinal truth about baptism, the call to the heathen man to
take some step, to enter into some engagement, to ally himself with a
body of Christian believers by some distinct act of his own, needing
careful preparation, &c., has a meaning and a value incalculably
great.

'"Yes, JESUS is to us all a source of pardon, light, and life, all
these treasures are in Him. But he distributes these gifts by His
Spirit in His appointed ways. You can't understand or receive the
Gospel with a heart clinging to your old ways. And you can't remake
your hearts. He must do it, and this is His way of doing it. You
must be born again. You must be made new men."

'But why write all this, which is so commonplace?

'I feel more than ever the need of very simple, very short services
for ignorant Catechumens.