of the rubbish that most of us chuck lazily out of our minds twice a
week without method or order. It is such downright hard work to teach
well. Oh! how weary it makes me to try. I feel as if I were at once
aware of what should be attempted, and yet quite unable to do it!

'St. Michael's Day.--[After an affectionate review of most of his
relations at home.]--When the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn pressed me a good
deal to go with them to England, it obliged me a little to analyse my
feelings. You won't suspect me of any want of longing to see you, when
I say that it never was a doubtful matter to me for five minutes. I saw
nothing to make me wish to go to England in comparison with the crowd
of reasons for not doing so. They, good people, thought it would be rest
and refreshment to me. Little they know how a man so unlike them takes
his rest! I am getting it here, hundreds of miles out of reach of any
white man or woman, free from what is to me the bother of society. I am
not defending myself; but it is true that to me it is a bore, the very
opposite of rest, to be in society. I like a good talk with Sir William
Martin above anything, but I declare that even that is dearly purchased
by the other accompaniments of society.

'And I could not spend a quiet month with you at Weston. I should have
people calling, the greatest of all nuisances, except that of having
to go out to dinner. I should have to preach, and perhaps to go to
meetings, all in the way of my business, but not tending to promote
rest.

'Seriously, I am very well now; looking, I am sure, and feeling stronger
and stouter than I was in New Zealand in the winter. So don't fret
yourself about me, and don't think that I shouldn't dearly love to chat
awhile with you. What an idle, lazy letter. You see I am taking my rest
with you, writing without effort.'

He was looking well. Kohimarama must be more healthily situated than the
first station, for all his three visits there were beneficial to him;
and there seems to have been none of the tendency to ague and low fever
which had been the trouble of the first abode.

Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice came back in the schooner early in October,
and were landed at Mota, while the Bishop went for a cruise in the New
Hebrides; but the lateness of the season and the state of the vessel
made it a short one, and he soon came back with thirty-five boys.
Meanwhile, a small harmonium, which was to be left with the Christian
settlement, had caused such an excitement that Mr. Bice was nearly
squeezed to death by the crowds that came to hear it. He played nearly
all day to successive throngs of men, but when the women arrived, they
made such a clatter that he was fain to close the instrument. Unbleached
calico clothing had been made for such of the young ladies as were to be
taken on board for Norfolk Island, cut out by the Bishop and made up by
Robert, William, and Benjamin, his scholars; and Mr. Codrington says,
'It was an odd sight to see the Bishop on the beach with the group of
girls round him, and a number of garments over his arm. As each bride
was brought by her friends, she was clothed and added to the group.

'Esthetically, clothes were no improvement. "A Melanesian clothed,"
the Bishop observes, "never looks well; there is almost always a stiff,
shabby-genteel look. A good specimen, not disfigured by sores and
ulcers, the well-shaped form, the rich warm colour of the skin, and
the easy, graceful play of every limb, unhurt by shoe or tight-fitting
dress, the flower stuck naturally into the hair, &c., make them look
pleasant enough to my eye. You see in Picture Bibles figures draped as I
could wish the Melanesians to be clothed."'

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

'I remember noticing how different his manner was from what was common
at home. His eyes were cast all about him, keeping a sharp look-out, and
all his movements and tones were quick and decisive. In that steaming
climate, and those narrow paths, he walked faster than was at all
agreeable to his companions, and was dressed moreover in a woollen coat
and waistcoat all the time. In fact, he thoroughly enjoyed the heat,
though no doubt it was weakening him; he liked the food, which gave him
no trouble at all to eat, and he liked the natives.

'He felt, of course, that he was doing his work all the while; but the
expression of his countenance was very different while sitting with a
party of men over their food at Mota, and when sitting with a party in
Norfolk Island.

'The contrast struck me very much between his recluse studious life
there, and his very active one at Mota, with almost no leisure to read,
and very little to write, and with an abundance of society which was a
pleasure instead of a burthen.

'I think that the alert and decisive tone and habit which was so
conspicuous in the islands, and came out whenever he was roused, was not
natural to his disposition, but had been acquired in early years in a
public school, and faded down in the quiet routine of St. Barnabas, and
was recalled as occasion required with more effort as time went on. No
doubt, his habitual gentleness made his occasional severity more felt,
but at Mota his capacity for scolding was held in respect. I was told
when I was last there, that I was no good, for I did not know how to
scold, but that the Bishop perfectly well understood how to do it.
Words certainly would never fail him in twenty languages to express his
indignation, but how seldom among his own scholars had he to do it in
one!'

This voyage is best summed up in the ensuing letter to one of the
Norfolk relations:--

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

'My dear Cousin,--We are drawing near the end of a rather long cruise,
as I trust, in safety. We left Norfolk Island on the 24th June, and we
hope to reach it in about ten days. We should have moved about in less
time, but for the crippled state of the schooner. She fell in with a
heavy gale off Norfolk Island about June 20th-23rd; and we have been
obliged to be very careful of our spars, which were much strained.
Indeed, we still need a new mainmast, main boom, and gaff, a main
topmast, foretopmast, and probably new wire rigging, besides repairs of
other kinds, and possibly new coppering. Thank God, the voyage has been
so far safe, and, on the whole, prosperous. We sailed first of all to
the Banks Islands, only dropping two lads at Ambrym Island on our way.
We spent a week or more at Mota, while the vessel was being overhauled
at the harbour in Vanua Lava Island, seven miles from Mota. It was a
great relief to us to get the house for the station at Mota out of the
vessel, the weight of timber, &c., was too much for a vessel not built
for carrying freight. After a few days we left Mr. Palmer, George
Sarawia, and others at Mota, busily engaged in putting up the house, a
very serious matter for us, as you may suppose.

'Our party was made up of Mr. Atkin, Mr. Brooke, and two Mota volunteers
for boat work, and divers Solomon Islanders. We were absent from Mota
about seven years, during which time we visited Santa Cruz, and many of
the Solomon Isles. Mr. Atkin spent three weeks in one of the isles,
and Mr. Brooke in another, and we had more than thirty natives of the
Solomon Islands on board, including old scholars, when we left Ulava,
the last island of the Solomon group at which we called.

'Mr. Palmer, Mr. Atkin, and Mr. Brooke went on to Norfolk Island, the
whole number of Melanesians on board being sixty-two. I had spent a very
happy month at Mota when the vessel returned from Norfolk Island
both with Mr. Codrington and Mr. Bice on board, bringing those of the
Melanesians (nearly thirty in all) who chose to stay on Norfolk Island.
Then followed a fortnight's cruise in the New Hebrides, and now with
exactly fifty Melanesians on board from divers islands, we are on our
way to Norfolk Island. We have fourteen girls, two married, on board,
and there are ten already at Norfolk Island. This is an unusual number;
but the people understand that the young men and lads who have been
with us for some time, who are baptized and accustomed to decent orderly
ways, are not going to marry heathen wild girls, so they give up these
young ones to be taught and qualify to become fit wives for our rapidly
increasing party of young men.

'It is quite clear that we must aim at exhibiting, by God's blessing,
Christian family life in the islands, and this can only be done by
training up young men and women.

'Three married couples, all Communicants, live now at Kohimarama, the
station at Mota. George has two children, Benjamin one. It is already
a small specimen of a little Christian community, and it must be
reinforced, year by year, by accessions of new couples of Christian men
and women.

'About twenty lads live at the station, and about forty more come daily
to school. It may grow soon into a real working school, from which the
most intelligent and best conducted boys may be taken to Norfolk Island
for a more complete education. I am hopeful about a real improvement in
Mota and elsewhere.

'But a new difficulty has lately been caused by the traders from Sydney
and elsewhere, who have taken many people to work in the plantations
at Brisbane, Mimea, (New Caledonia), and the Fiji Islands, actual
kidnapping, and this is a sad hindrance to us. I know of no case of
actual violence in the Banks Islands; but in every case, they took
people away under false pretences, asserting that "the Bishop is ill
and can't come; he has sent us to bring you to him." "The Bishop is in
Sydney, he broke his leg getting into his boat, and has sent us to take
you to him," &c., &c. In many of these places some of our old scholars
are found who speak a little English, and the traders communicated with
them.

'In most places where any of our young people happened to be on shore,
they warned their companions against these men, but not always with
success. Hindrances there must be always in the way of all attempts to
do some good. But this is a sad business, and very discreditable to the
persons employed in it and the Government which sanctions it, for they
must know that they cannot control the masters of the vessels engaged
in the trade; they may pass laws as to the treatment the natives are to
receive on the plantations, as to food, pay, &c., the time of service,
the date of their being taken home, but they know that the whole thing
is dishonest. The natives don't intend or know anything about any
service or labour; they don't know that they will have to work hard, and
any regular steady work is hard work to South Sea Islanders. They are
brought away under false pretences, else why tell lies to induce them to
go on board?

'I dare say that many young fellows go on board without much persuasion.
Many causes may be at work to induce them to do so, e.g., sickness in
the island, quarrels, love of excitement, spirit of enterprise, &c., but
if they knew what they were taken for, I don't think they would go.

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

'November 6th.--Yesterday we all landed safely, and found our whole
party quite well. Our new hall is finished, and in good time to receive
134 Melanesians.'

Before the full accumulation of letters arrived from Auckland, a report
by a passing ship from Sydney stirred the hermit Bishop deeply, and
elicited the following warm congratulation:--

'Norfolk Island: November 17, 1869.

'My dear Dr. Moberly,--Since my return--a fortnight since--from the
islands a rumour has reached us, brought hither in a small trader, that
the Bishop of Winchester has resigned his see, and that you are his
successor. It is almost too good to be true. I am waiting with great
anxiety for a vessel expected soon; I have had no English news since
letters of April. But in all seriousness, private news is of small
moment compared with the news of what is to become of that great
Diocese. And especially now, when almost all the south of England is so
sadly in want of officers to command the Church's army. Exeter, Bath and
Wells, Salisbury, Chichester (very old), and till now (if this rumour be
true) Winchester, from old age or sickness almost, if not quite, unfit
for work. If indeed I hear that God's Providence has placed you in
charge of that great see, it will give a different hue to the prospect,
dreary enough, I confess, to me; though I hope I am mistaken in my
gloomy forebodings of the results of all those many Dioceses being
so long without active Bishops. Salisbury of course I except, and
Chichester is a small Diocese comparatively, and the good Bishop, I
know, works up to the maximum of his age and strength. But if this be a
true rumour, and I do sincerely trust and pray that it may be so, indeed
it will give hope and courage and fresh life and power to many and many
a fainting soul. If I may presume to say so, it is (as Mrs. Selwyn wrote
to me when he was appointed to Lichfield) "a solemn and anxious thing
to undertake a great charge on the top of such great expectations." But
already there is one out here anyhow who feels cheered and strengthened
by the mere hope that this story is true; and everywhere many anxious
men and women will lift up their hearts to God in thankfulness, and in
earnest prayers that you may indeed do a great work to His glory and to
the good of His Church in a new and even greater sphere of usefulness.
No doubt much of my thoughts and apprehensions about the religious and
social state of England is very erroneous. I have but little time
for reading about what is going on, and though I have the blessing of
Codrington's good sense and ability, yet I should like to have more
persons to learn from on such matters. I am willing and anxious to
believe that I am not cheerful and faithful enough to see the bright
side as clearly as I ought. Your letters have always been a very great
help to me; not only a great pleasure, much more than a pleasure. I felt
that I accepted, occasionally even that I had anticipated, your remarks
on the questions of the day, the conduct of parties and public men,
books, &c. It has been a great thing for me to have my thoughts guided
or corrected in this way.

'Your last present to me was your volume of "Bampton Lectures," of which
I need not say how both the subject and the mode of treating it make
them especially valuable just now. And there is a strong personal
feeling about the work and writings of one where the public man is
also the private friend, which gives a special zest to the enjoyment of
reading a work of this kind.

'Certainly it is one of the many blessings of my life that I should
somehow have been allowed to grow into this degree of intimacy with you,
whom I have always known by name, though I don't remember ever to have
seen you. I think I first as a child became familiar with your name
through good Miss Rennell, whom I dare say you remember: the old Dean's
daughter. What a joy this would have been to dear Mr. and Mrs. Keble;
what a joy it is to Charlotte Yonge; and there may be others close to
Winchester whose lives have been closely bound tip with yours.

'But, humanly speaking, the thing is to have Bishops who can command the
respect and love and dutiful obedience of their clergy and laity alike.

'One wants men who, by solid learning, and by acquaintance too with
modern modes of criticism and speculation, by scholarship, force of
character, largeness of mind, as well as by their goodness, can secure
respect and exercise authority. It is the lawlessness of men that
one deplores; the presumption of individual priests striking out for
themselves unauthorised ways of managing their parishes and officiating
in their churches. And, if I may dare to touch on such a subject, is
there not a mode of speaking and writing on the Holy Eucharist prevalent
among some men now, which has no parallel in the Church of England,
except, it may be, in some of the non-jurors, and which does not express
the Church of England's mind; which is not the language of Pearson, and
Jackson, and Waterland, and Hooker, no, nor of Bull, and Andrewes, and
Taylor, &c.? I know very little of such things--very little indeed.
But it is oftentimes a sad grief to me that I cannot accept some of the
reasonings and opinions of dear Mr. Keble in his book on "Eucharistic
Adoration." I know that I have no right to expect to see things as such
a man saw them: that most probably the instinctive power of discerning
truth--the reward of a holy life from early childhood--guided him where
men without such power feel all astray. But yet, there is something
about the book which may be quite right and true, but does not to me
quite savour of the healthy sound theology of the Church of England;
the fragrance is rather that of an exotic plant; here and there I
mean--though I feel angry with myself for daring to think this, and to
say it to you, who can understand him.

'November 27th.--I leave this as I wrote it, though now I know from our
mails, which have come to us, that you are Bishop of Salisbury, not
of Winchester. I hardly stop to think whether it is Winchester or
Salisbury, so great is my thankfulness and joy at the report being
substantially true. Though it did seem that Winchester was a natural
sphere for you, I can't help feeling that at Salisbury you can do (D.V.)
what perhaps scarcely any one else could do. And now I rejoice that you
have had the opportunity of speaking with no uncertain sound in your
"Bampton Lectures." Anyone can tell what the Bishop of Salisbury holds
on the great questions of Church Doctrine and Church Government. The
diocese knows already its Bishop, not only by many former but by his
latest book. Surely you will have the confidence of all Churchmen, and
be blessed to do a great work for the glory of God and the edification
of the Church.

'And now, my dear Bishop of Salisbury, you will excuse my writing on
so freely, too freely I fear. I do like to think of you in that most
perfect of Cathedrals. I hope and trust that you will have ere long,
right good fellow-workers in Exeter, Winton, and Bath and Wells.

'But in the colonies you have a congeries of men from all countries, and
with every variety of creed, jumbled up together, with nothing whatever
to hold them together--no reverence--no thoughts of the old parish
church, &c. They are restless, worldly people to a great extent,
thinking of getting on, making money. To such men the very idea of the
Church as a Divine Institution, the mystical Body of the Lord, on which
all graces are bestowed, and through whose ministrations men are trained
in holiness and truth, is wholly unknown. The personal religion of many
a man is sincere; his position and duty as a Churchman he has never
thought about. I wish the clergy would master that part, at all events,
of your Lectures which deals with this great fundamental point, and
then, as they have opportunity, teach it to their people. And by-and-by,
through the collective life of the Church in its synods, &c., many will
come to see it, we may hope.

'I think that I may give you a cheering account of ourselves. I was
nineteen weeks in the islands--met with no adventures worth mentioning,
only one little affair which was rather critical for a few minutes, but
ended very well--and in some of the Solomon Islands made more way than
heretofore with the people. We have 134 Melanesians here and a baby.
George Sarawia and his wife and two children, and two other married
couples--all Communicants--are at Mota, in a nice place, with some
twenty-two lads "boarding" with them, and about thirty more coming to
daily school.

'The vessel was much knocked about in a violent gale in June off Norfolk
Island, and we had to handle her very carefully. The whole voyage was
made with a mainmast badly sprung, and fore topmast very shaky. Mr.
Tilly was very watchful over the spars, and though we had a large share
of squally weather, and for some days, at different times, were becalmed
in a heavy swell, the most trying of all situations to the gear of a
vessel, yet, thank God, all went well, and I have heard of the schooner
safe in Auckland harbour. About forty of our Melanesians here are
Solomon Islanders, from seven different islands; a few came from the New
Hebrides, the rest from the Banks Islands. We are already pretty well
settled down to our work. Indeed, it took only a day or two to get
to work; our old scholars are such great helpers to us. We number six
clergymen here (G. Sarawia being at Mota). Ten or twelve of the sixth
form are teachers. If you care to hear more; I must refer you to a
letter just written to Miss Yonge. But it is not easy to write details
about 134 young people. Their temptations are very great when they
return to their islands; every inducement to profligacy, &c., is held
out to them. One of our young baptized lads fell into sinful ways, and
is not now with us. He was not one of whom we had great expectations,
though we trusted that he would go on steadily. Many others, thank God,
were kept pure and truthful in the midst of it all, refusing even to
sleep one night away from our little hut, and in some cases refusing
even to leave the schooner. "No, I will wait till I am married," said
two lads to me, who were married here to Christian girls on November
24th, "and then go ashore for a time with my young wife. I don't think
I should yield, but I don't want to put myself in the way of such
temptations." And so, when I had naturally expected that they would take
their six weeks' holiday on shore, while the "Southern Cross" went from
Mota to Norfolk Island and back (during my stay at Mota), they remained
on board, rejoining me, as they were two of my boating crew, for the
New Hebrides trip! This was very comforting. And when I married three
couples on November 24th, and knew that they were pure, youths and girls
alike, from the great sin of heathenism, you can well think that my
heart was very full of thankfulness and hope.

'I must end my long letter. How will you find time to read it? Send me
some day a photograph of your beautiful Cathedral.

'Yours very faithfully,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

Before the letter to which Bishop Moberly is referred, Mr. Codrington's
bit about the weddings seems appropriate:--

'These wedding days were great festivals, especially before many had
been seen. The Chapel was dressed with flowers, the wedding party in
as new and cheerful attire as could be procured, the English Marriage
Service translated into Mota. We make rings out of sixpences or
threepenny bits. The place before is full of the sound of the hammer
tapping the silver on the marlingspike. The wedding ceremony is
performed with as much solemnity as possible, all the school present in
their new clothes and with flowers in their hair. There is even a kind
of processional Psalm as the wedding party enters the Chapel. There is
of course a holiday, and after the service they all go off, taking with
them the pig that has been killed for the feast. An enormous quantity of
plum pudding awaits them when, in the evening, they come back to prayers
and supper. Rounds of hearty cheers, led off by the Bishop, used
to complete the day. Weddings of this kind between old scholars,
christened, confirmed, and trustworthy, represented much anxiety and
much teaching and expense, but they promise so much, and that so near of
what has been worked for, that they have brought with them extraordinary
pleasure and satisfaction.'

'Norfolk Island: November 24, 1869.

'My dear Cousin,--To-day we married three young couples: the
bridegrooms. Robert Pantatun, William Pasvorang, and Marsden Sawa, who
have been many years with us, and are all Communicants; the brides,
Emily Milerauwe, Lydia Lastitia, and Rhoda Titrakrauwe, who were
baptized a year ago.

'The Chapel was very prettily dressed up with lilies and many other
flowers. The bridegrooms wore white trousers, shirts, &c., the brides
wore pretty simple dresses and flowers in their hair. We crowded as many
persons as possible into our little Chapel. Mr. Nobbs and some ten
or twelve of our Pitcairn friends were all the visitors that we could
manage to make room for.

'Great festivities followed, a large pig was killed yesterday and eaten
to-day, and Mr. Palmer had manufactured puddings without end, a new kind
of food to many of the present set of scholars, but highly appreciated
by most of them. Then followed in the evening native dances and songs,
and a supper to end with, with cheers for the brides and bridegrooms.

'There are now six married couples here, three more at Mota, and one or
two more weddings will take place soon. Very fortunately, a vessel came
from Auckland only three or four days ago, the first since the "Southern
Cross," in June, It brought not only five mails for us English folk,
but endless packages and boxes for the Mission, ordered by us long ago,
stores, clothing, &c. We had all ordered more or less in the way of
presents for scholars, and though we keep most of these treasures for
Christmas gifts, yet some are distributed now.

'These presents are for the most part really good things. It is quite
useless for kind friends to send presents to Melanesians as they would
do to an English lad or girl. To begin with, most of our scholars are
grown up, and are more like English young people of twenty or eighteen
years old than like boys and girls, and not a few are older still; and
secondly, no Melanesian, old or young, cares a rush about a toy. They,
boys and girls, men and women, take a practical view of a present, and
are the very reverse of sentimental about it, though they really do like
a photograph of a friend. But a mere Brummagem article that won't stand
wear is quite valueless in their eyes.

'Whatever is given them, cheap or dear, is estimated according to its
usefulness; and whatever is given, though it may cost but a shilling,
must be good of its kind. For example, a rough-handled, single-bladed
knife, bought for a shilling, they fully appreciate; but a knife with
half-a-dozen blades, bought for eighteen-pence, they would almost throw
away. And so about everything else. I mention this as a hint to kind
friends. They do like to hear that people think of them and are kind to
them, but they don't understand why useless things should be sent from
the other end of the world when they could buy much better things with
their own money out of the mission store here.

'They are very fond of anything in the way of notebooks, 8vo and 12mo
sizes (good paper), writing-cases (which must be good if given at all),
patent safety inkstands--these things are useful on board ship, and can
be carried to the islands and brought back again safely. Work-baskets
or boxes for the girls, with good serviceable needles, pins, thread,
scissors, thimbles, tapes, &c. &c., not a plaything. Here we can buy for
them, or keep in the store for them to buy, many things that are much
too bulky to send from a distance, the freight would be ruinous. The
"Southern Cross" brings them usually to us. Such things I mean as good
carpet-bags, from 5s. to 10s., stout tin boxes with locks and keys,
axes, tools, straw hats, saucepans, good strong stuff (tweed or
moleskin) for trousers and shirts, which they cut out and make up for
themselves, quite understanding the inferior character of "slop" work,
good flannel for under-shirts, or for making up into Crimean shirts,
Nottingham drill, good towelling, huckaback, &c., ought to be
worth while to send out, and if bought in large quantities at the
manufacturer's, it would pay us to get it in England, especially if the
said manufacturer reduced the price a little in consequence of the use
to be made of his goods.

'Dull small blue beads are always useful, ditto red. Bright glittering
ones are no use, few Melanesians would take them as a gift. Some
islanders like large beads, as big or bigger than boys' marbles. These
are some hints to any kind people who may wish to contribute in kind
rather than in money.

'Mr. Codrington has given these fellows a great taste for gardening.
Much of their spare hours (which are not many) are spent in digging up,
fencing in and preparing little pieces of land close about the station,
two or three lads generally making up a party, and frequently the party
consists of lads and young men from different islands. Then they have
presents of seeds, cuttings, bulbs, &c., from Mr. Codrington chiefly,
and Mrs. Palmer and others contribute. Some of these little gardens are
really very nicely laid out in good taste and well looked after. They
have an eye to the practically useful here too, as every garden has its
stock of bananas, and here and there we see the sugar-cane too.

'From 3.30 P.M. to 6 P.M. is the play time, although they do not all
have this time to themselves. For three lads must milk from 5 to 6, one
or two must drive in the cows, seven or eight are in the kitchen, three
or four must wash the horses, one must drive the sheep into the
fold, all but the milkers have only their one week of these diverse
occupations. There are about twelve head cooks, who choose their helpers
(the whole school, minus the milkers and two or three overlookers, being
included), and so the cooking work comes only once in twelve weeks. The
cooks of the one week drive up the cows and water the horses the next
week, and then there is no extra work, that is, nothing but the
regular daily work from 9.30 A.M. after school to 1 P.M. Wednesday is
a half-holiday, Saturday a whole holiday. There are six milkers, one of
whom is responsible for the whole. One receives 2s. 0d. per week, his
chief mate 1s. 6d., and the other four 1s. each. They take it in turns,
three each week. This is the hardest work in one sense; it brings them
in from their play and fishing, or gardening, &c., and so they are paid
for it. We do not approve of the white man being paid for everything,
and the Melanesian being expected to work habitually extra hours for
nothing. There are many other little extra occupations for which we take
care that those engaged in them shall have some reward, and as a
matter of fact a good deal of money finds its way into the hands of the
storekeeper, and a very fair amount of 3d., 4d. and 6d. pieces may be
seen every Sunday in the offertory bason.

'Perhaps I should say that we have seldom seen here any indications of
these Melanesians expecting money or presents; but we want to destroy
the idea in their minds of their being fags by nature, and to help them
to have some proper self-respect and independence of character. We see
very little in them to make us apprehensive of their being covetous or
stingy, and indisposed to give service freely.

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

'Of the 134 Melanesians, besides the baby, ten are teachers, and with
their help we get on very fairly. There are sixteen of us teachers in
all, so that the classes are not too large.

'Mr. Codrington takes at present the elder Banks Islanders, Mr. Palmer
the next class, and Mr. Bice the youngest set of boys from the same
group.

'Mr. Atkin takes the Southern Solomon Islanders, and Mr. Brooke those
from the northern parts of the same group. I have been taking some
Leper's Islanders and Maiwo or Aurora Islanders as new comers, and other
classes occasionally.

'Out of so many we shall weed out a good number no doubt. At present we
don't condemn any as hopelessly dull, but it will not be worth while to
spend much time upon lads who in five months must go home for good, and
some such there must be; we cannot attempt to teach all, dull and clever
alike. We must make selections, and in so doing often, I dare say, make
mistakes. But what can we do?

'Our new hall is a great success. We had all the framework sawn out
here; it is solid, almost massive work, very unlike the flimsy wooden
buildings that are run up in a week or two in most colonial villages.
It is so large that our party of 145, plus 9 English, sit in the aisles
without occupying any part of the middle of the room. This gives us
ample accommodation for the present. Indeed we might increase our
numbers to 200 without any more buildings being necessary. The married
people give the most trouble in this respect, as they have their
separate rooms, and four or five married couples take up more room than
three times the number of single folk. However we have here room for
all, I am thankful to say, though we must build again if more of our
young people take it into their heads to be married. They pass on
quickly, however, when married, into the next stage, the life in their
own islands, and so they leave their quarters here for some successors.

'I hope you can understand this attempt at a description, but I never
could write properly about such things, and never shall do so, I
suppose. I like the life, I know, a great deal better than I can write
about it. Indeed, it is a quiet restful life here, comparatively. Some
anxieties always, of course, but, as compared with the distractions of
New Zealand life, it is pleasant indeed. We have very few interruptions
here to the regular employment of our time, and need not waste any of
it in visits or small talk, which seems to be a necessary, though most
wearisome part of civilised life.

'Your namesake goes on well; not a clever girl, but very steady and
good; her sister and brother are here; the sisters are much alike
in character and ability, the brother is sharper. You will, I know,
specially think of George Sarawia and his wife Sarah at Mota, with
Charles and Ellen, Benjamin and Marion. They are all Communicants,
but the temptations which surround them are very great, and early
familiarity with heathen practices and modes of thought may yet deaden
the conscience to the quick apprehension of the first approaches of sin.
They do indeed need the earnest prayers of all.

'Your affectionate Cousin,

'J. C. PATTESON.'

How many sons who have lost a mother at fifteen or sixteen dwell on the
thought like this affectionate spirit, twenty-seven years later?

'Advent Sunday, November 20, 1869.

'It is a solemn thing to begin a new year on the anniversary of our dear
Mother's death. I often think whether she would approve of this or that
opinion, action, &c. Wright's painting is pleasant to look upon. I stand
in a corner of my room, at father's old mahogany desk. Her picture and
his, the large framed photographs from Richmond's drawing, and a good
photograph of the Bishop are just above. I wish you could see my room. I
write now on December 3, a bright summer day, but my room with its
deep verandah is cool and shady. It is true that I refuse carpet and
curtains. They only hold dust and make the room fusty. But the whole
room is filled with books, and those pictures, and the Lionardo da Vinci
over the fireplace, and Mr. Boxall's photograph over it, and his
drawing vis-a-vis to it at the other end of the room, and by my window a
splendid gloxinia with fine full flowers out in a very pretty porcelain
pot, both Mr. Codrington's gift. On another glass stand (also his
present) a Mota flower imported here, a brilliant scarlet hibiscus,
and blossoms of my creepers and bignonia, most beautiful. So fresh
and pretty. The steps of the verandah are a mass of honeysuckle. The
stephanotis, with the beautiful scented white flowers and glossy leaves,
covers one of the posts. How pleasant it is. Everyone is kind, all are
well, all are going on well just now. Such are missionary comforts.
Where the hardships are I have not yet discovered. Your chain, dear
Joan, is round my neck, and the locket (Mamma's) in which you, Fan, put
the hair of you five, hangs on it.

'I am dipping my pen into the old silver inkstand which used to be in
the front drawing-room. Every morning at about 5 A.M. I have a cup
of tea or coffee, and use Grandmamma Coleridge's old-fashioned silver
cream-jug, and the cup and saucer which Augusta sent out years ago,
my old christening spoon, and the old silver tea-pot and salver. Very
grand, but I like the old things.

'This day fortnight (D.V.) I ordain J. Atkin and C. H. Brooke Priests.

'I have no time to answer your April and September letters. I rejoice
with all my heart to hear of Dr. Moberly's appointment. What a joyful
event for Charlotte Yonge. That child Pena sent me Shairp's (dear old
Shairp) book, which I wanted. I must write to Sophy as soon as I can.
You will forgive if I have seemed to be, or really have been, unmindful
of your sorrows and anxieties. Sometimes I think I am in too great a
whirl to think long enough to realise and enter into all your doings.

'Your loving Brother,

'J. C. P.'

The intended letter to Mrs. Martyn was soon written. The death there
referred to was that of Mrs. William Coleridge, widow of the Bishop of
Barbadoes:--

'Norfolk Island: December 14, 1869.

'My dear Sophy,--I should be specially thinking of you as Christmas
draws nigh with its blessed thoughts, and hopes, and the St. Stephen's
memories in any case I should be thinking of you. But now I have lately
received your long loving letter of last Eastertide, partly written in
bed.

Then your dear child's illness makes me think greatly (and how
lovingly!) of you three of the three generations. Lastly, I hear of dear
Aunt William's death. You know that I had a very great affection for
her, and I feel that this is a great blow probably to you all, though
dear Aunty (as I have noticed in all old persons, especially when good
as well as old) takes this quietly, I dare say. The feeling must be,
"Well, I shall soon meet her again; a few short days only remain."

'I suppose that you, with your quarter of a century's widowhood, still
feel as if the waiting time was all sanctified by the thought of the
reunion. Oh! what a thought it is: too much almost to think that by
His wonderful mercy, one may hope to be with them all, and for ever;
to behold the faces of Apostles, and Apostolic men, and Prophets, and
Saints, holy men and women; and, as if this were not enough, to see
Him as He is, in His essential perfections, and to know Him. One can't
sustain the effort of such a thought, which shows how great a change
must pass on one before the great Consummation. Well, the more one can
think of dear Father and Mother, and dear dear Uncle James and Uncle
Frank, and Cousin George, and Uncle and Aunt William, others too, uncles
and aunts, and your dear Fanny, and your husband, though it would be
untrue to say I knew him, taken so early--the more one thinks of them
all the better. And I have, Sophy, so many very different ones to think
of Edwin and Fisher, and so many Melanesians taken away in the very
first earnestness and simplicity of a new convert's faith. How many have
died in my arms--God be thanked--in good hope!

'If by His great mercy there be a place for me there, I feel persuaded
that I shall there find many of those dear lads, whom indeed I think of
with a full heart, full of affection and thankfulness.

'I have been reading the "Memoir of Mr. Keble," of course with extreme
interest. It is all about events and chiefly about persons that one has
heard about or even known. I think we get a little autobiography of our
dear Uncle John in it too, for which I don't like it the less.

There are passages, as against going to Borne, which I am glad to see in
print; they are wanted now again, I fear. I am glad you like Moberly's
"Bampton Lectures." His book on "The Great Forty Days," his best
book (?) after all, has the germ of it all. I am so thankful for his
appointment to Salisbury. I dare say you know that he is kind enough to
write to me occasionally; and he sends me his books, one of the greatest
of the indirect blessings of being known to Mr. Keble. I do very little
in the way of reading, save that I get a quiet hour for Hebrew, 5-6
A.M., and I do read some theology. In one sense it is easier reading to
me than other books, history, poetry, because, though I don't know much
about it, I know nothing about them.

'My pleasure would be, if with you, in talking over such little insight
as I may have received into the wondrous harmony and symmetry of the
whole Bible, by tolerably close examination of the text of the Greek,
and to some extent of the Hebrew. The way in which a peculiar word
brings a whole passage or argument en rapport with a train of historical
associations or previous statements is wonderful; e.g., the verb of
which Moses is formed occurs only in Exodus ii. 10, 2 Samuel xxii. 17,
Psalm xviii. 16. See how the magnificent description of the Passage of
the Red Sea in Psalm xviii. is connected with Moses by this one word.
These undesigned coincidences, and (surely) proofs of inspiration are
innumerable.

'I do delight in it: only I want more help, far more. We have great
advantages in this generation. Dear Uncle James had no Commentary,
one might almost say, on Old Testament or New Testament. Ellicott,
Wordsworth, and Alford on the New Testament were not in existence; and
the Germans, used with discrimination, are great helps. An orthodox
Lutheran, one Delitzsch (of whom Liddon wrote that Dr. Pusey thinks
highly of his Hebrew scholarship), helps me much in Isaiah. He has
sucked all the best part out of Vitringa's enormous book, and added
much minute, and I am told correct criticism. And how grand it is! This
morning--it is now 6.15 A.M.--I have been reading part of that wonderful
chapter xxvi.

'It strikes me that the way to teach a class or a congregation is to
bring out the doctrine from the very words of Scripture carefully,
critically examined and explained. Only think, Sophy, of the vague
desultory way in which we all, more or less, read; and we have accepted
a phraseology without enquiring to a great extent, and use words to
which we attach no definite meaning. Few in the congregation could
draw out in clear words what they mean when they talk of faith,
justification, regeneration, conversion, &c. &c. All language denoting
ideas and thoughts is transferred to the region of the mind from
denoting at first only external objects and sensations. This is in
accordance with the mystery of all, the union of mind and matter--which
no pagan philosopher could comprehend--the extreme difficulty of solving
which caused Dualism and Asceticism on the one hand, and neglect of all
bodily discipline on the other. Mind and matter must be antagonistic,
the work of different beings: man must get rid of his material part to
arrive at his true end and perfection.

'So some said, "Mortify, worry the body, which is essentially and
inherently evil." "No," said others, "the sins of the body don't hurt
the mind; the two things are distinct, don't react on one another."
(St. Paul deals with all this in the Colossians.) The Incarnation is the
solution or the culmination of the mystery.

'What a prose! but I meant, that people so often use words as if the use
of a word was equivalent to the knowledge of the thought which, in the
mind of an accurate thinker, accompanies the utterance of the word.

'I should think that three-fourths of what we clergymen say is
unintelligible to the mass of the congregation. We assume an
acquaintance with the Bible and Prayer-book, thought, and a knowledge of
the meaning of words which few, alas! possess. We must begin, then, with
the little ones; as far as I see, all children are apt to fail at the
point when they ought to be passing from merely employing the memory (in
learning by heart, e.g., the Catechism) by exercising the reasoning and
thinking faculty.

'"Well now, you have said that very well, now let us think what it
means."

'How well Dr. Pusey says, in his Sermons, "Not altogether intentional
deliberate vice, but thoughtlessness is destroying souls."

'I run on at random, dear Sophy, hoping to give you one and a half
hour's occupation on a sick bed or couch, and because, as you say, this
is the only converse we are likely to have on earth.

'I think I am too exclusively fond of this reading, very little else
interests me. I take up a theological book as a recreation, which is,
perhaps, hardly reverent, and may narrow the mind; but even Church
history is not very attractive to me. I like Jackson and Hooker, and
some of the moderns, of whom I read a good many; and I lose a good deal
of time in diving into things too deep by half for me, while I forget or
don't learn simple things.

'All this modern rage for reviews, serials, magazines, I can't abide.
My mind is far too much distracted already, and that fragmentary mode of
reading is very bad for many people, I am sure.

'Naturally enough at forty-two years of age ninety-nine hundredths
of the "lighter" books seem to me mere rubbish. They come to me
occasionally. However, there are younger ones here, so it isn't sheer
waste to receive such donations: they soon get out of my room. Not,
mind you, that I think this the least evidence of my being wiser, or
employing my time more carefully than other folk. Only I want you to
know what I am, and what I think.

'Pena has sent me a nice book which I wanted: 1st. Because I have a
great personal liking for Shairp, a simple-minded, affectionate man,
with much poetical feeling and good taste-a kindly-natured man. 2nd.
Because he writes in an appreciative kind of way, and is the
very opposite of .... whom I can't stand with his insufferable
self-sufficiency, and incapacity for appreciating the nobler, simpler,
more generous natures who are unlike him. Well! that is fierce. But
there is a school of men whom I can't stand. Their nature repels me, and
I hardly wish to like them; which is an evil feeling.

'I shall add a line in a few days.

'My very dearest love to Aunty--dear Aunty; and if I can't write to
Pena, give her my best love and thanks for her book.

'Dear Sophy, your loving Cousin,

'J. C. P.'

Two other letters, one to each of the sisters, were in progress at
this time. To Joanna, who had been grieved for the poor girl whose
transgression had occurred in the beginning of the year, he says:--

'About Semtingvat, you must be comforted about her. For a poor child
who, two short years before, had assumed as a matter of course that a
woman simply existed to be a man's slave in every kind of way, her fault
could not, I think, be regarded as very great. Indeed, there was much
comfort from the first; and since that time they not only have gone
on well, but I do believe that their religious character has been
much strengthened by the kind of revelation they then obtained of what
Christianity really does mean. Anyhow, all notice the fact that U----
has improved very much, and they all sing Semtingvat's praises. I had no
difficulty about marrying them after a little while. I spoke openly in
chapel to everyone about it. Their wedding was not as other weddings--no
festivity, no dressing of the chapel, no feast, no supper and fun and
holiday. It was perfectly understood to be in all respects different
from a bright, happy wedding. But it was quite as much for the sake of
all, for the sake of enforcing the new teaching about the sanctity of
marriage, that we made so very much of what (as men speak) was under the
circumstances a comparatively light fault, less than an impure thought
on the part of such as have been taught their duty from their childhood.

'I am almost confused with the accounts from England. All seems in a
state of turmoil and confusion; all the old landmarks being swept away
by a deluge of new opinions as to all matters civil and ecclesiastical.
I don't think that we ought to refuse to see these signs of a change in
men's mode of regarding great political and religious questions. A man
left high and dry on the sand-bank of his antiquated notions will do
little good to the poor folk struggling in the sea way, though he is
safer as far as he is himself concerned by staying where he is than by
plunging in to help them.

'It is a critical time in every sense. Men and women can hardly be
indifferent; they must be at the pains of making up their minds. As for
us clergy, everywhere but in Norfolk Island, we must know that people
are thinking of matters which all were content a few years ago to
keep back in silence, and that they expect us to speak about them. How
thankful I am that we fortunate ones are exempt from this. Yet in my way
I, too, try to think a bit about what is going on; and I don't want
to be too gloomy, or to ignore some good in all this ferment in men's
minds. It is better than stagnation and indolent respectability. There
is everywhere a consciousness of a vast work to be done, and sincere
efforts are made to do it. I suppose that is a fact; many, many poor
souls are being taught and trained for heaven through all these various
agencies which seem to a distant and idle critic to be so questionable
in some ways.

'Of old one thought that the sober standard of Church of England
divinity was the rule to which all speculations should be reduced; and
one thought that Pearson, Hooker, Waterland, Jeremy Taylor also, and
Andrewes, and Bull, and Jackson, and Barrow, &c., stood for the idea of
English divinity. Now we are launched upon a wider sea. Catholic usage
and doctrine take the place of Church of England teaching and practice;
rightly, I dare say, only it may be well to remember that men who can
perhaps understand a good deal of the English divines, can hardly be
supposed to be equally capable of understanding the far wider and
more difficult range of ecclesiastical literature of all ages and all
writers.

'Everyone knows and is struck by the fact that passages of old writers
are continually quoted by men of quite different schools of thought
in favour of their own (different) views. Clearly they can't both
understand the mind and spirit of these writers; and the truth is, isn't
it, that only they who by very long study, and from a large share of the
true historical imagination, sympathise with and really enter into the
hearts and minds of these writers, are competent to deal with and decide
upon such wide and weighty matters?

'It seems to me as if men who are in no sense divines, theologians, or
well read, speak strongly and use expressions and teach doctrines which,
indeed, only very few men should think of uttering or teaching.

'And yet, don't think I wish to be only an exclusive Anglican, without
sympathy for East or West; still less that I wish to ignore the Catholic
Church of the truly primitive times; but I take the real, so to say,
representative teaching of the Church of England to be the divinity
of the truly primitive Church, to which our formularies and reformers
appeal. I know, moreover, that our dear Father accepted Jackson and
Waterland; and I don't feel disposed to disparage them, as it is the
fashion to do nowadays. Few men, in spite of occasional scholastic
subtlety, go so deep in their search right down into principles as
Jackson. Few men so analyse, dissect, search out the precise, exact
meaning of words and phrases, so carry you away from vague generalities
to accurate defined meanings and doctrines. He had an honest and clear
brain of his own, though he was a tremendous book-worm; and I think
he is a great authority, though I know about him and his antagonism to
Rome. I don't fear to weary you by this kind of talk; but don't I wish
I could hear three or four of our very best men discuss these points
thoroughly. In all sincerity I believe that I should be continually
convinced of error, shallow judgments, and ignorance. But then I should
most likely get real light on some points where I would fain have it.'

To this unconscious token of humility, another must be added, from the
same letter, speaking of two New Zealand friends:--'To me she has always
been kindness itself, with her husband overrating me to such an amusing
extent that I don't think it hurt even my vanity.'

Full preparation was going on for the ordination, of the two priests.

No special account of the actual service seems to have been written; and
the first letter of January was nearly absorbed by the tidings of the
three Episcopal appointments of the close of 1869, the Oxford choice
coming near to Bishop Patteson by his family affections, and the
appointment to Exeter as dealing with his beloved county at home.

And now, before turning the page, and leaving the period that had, on
the whole, been full of brightness, will be the best time to give Mr.
Codrington's account of the manner of life at St. Barnabas, while the
Bishop was still in his strength:--

'Certainly one of the most striking points to a stranger would have been
the familiar intercourse between the Bishop and his boys, not only
the advanced scholars, but the last and newest comers. The kindly and
friendly disposition of the Melanesians leads to a great deal of free
and equal familiarity even where there are chiefs, and the obsequious
familiarity of which one hears in India is here quite unknown.
Nevertheless, I doubt very much whether other Melanesians live in
the same familiarity with their missionaries--e.g., Carry, wife of
Wadrokala, writes thus:--"I tremble very much to write to you, I am not
fit to write to you, because, does an ant know how to speak to a cow? We
at Nengone would not speak to a great man like you; no, our language is
different to a chief and a missionary."

'Making every allowance, and, looking at the matter from within, that
perfect freedom and affectionateness of intercourse that existed with
him seems very remarkable.

'The secret of it is not far to seek. It did not lie in any singular
attractiveness of his manner only, but in the experience that everyone
attracted gained that he sought nothing for himself; he was entirely
free from any desire to be admired, or love of being thought much of, as
he was from love of commanding for the sake of being obeyed. The great
temptations to missionaries among savage people, as it seems, are
to self-esteem, from a comparison of themselves with their European
advantages and the natives among whom they live; and to a domineering
temper, because they find an obedience ready, and it is delightful to be
obeyed. Bishop Patteson's natural disposition was averse to either, and
the principles of missionary work which he took up suited at once his
natural temper and his religious character. He was able naturally,
without effort, to live as a brother among his black brothers, to be the
servant of those he lived to teach. The natural consequence of this was,
the unquestioned authority which he possessed over those with whom he
lived on equal terms. No one could entertain the idea that anything was
ordered from a selfish motive, for any advantage to himself, or that
anything was forbidden without some very good reason. This familiarity
with a superior, which is natural with Melanesians, is accompanied,
especially in Banks Islanders, with a very great reserve about anything
that touches the feelings or concerns character. Thus a boy, who would
use the Bishop's room as if it were his own, coming in unasked, to read
or write, or sit by the fire there, would with very great difficulty get
over the physical trembling, which their language implies, that would
come upon him, if he wished to speak about his own feelings on religious
matters, or to tell him something which he well knew it was his duty to
make known. When one knows how difficult it is to them to speak openly,
their openness with the Bishop is more appreciated, though he indeed
often enough complained of their closeness with him. The real affection
between the boys and the Bishop required no acquaintance with the
character of either to discern, and could surprise no one who knew
anything of the history of their relation one to another. It is well
known that he wished his elder boys to stand in the place of the sixth
form of a public school; and to some extent they did so, but being
mostly Banks Islanders, and Banks Islanders being peculiarly afraid of
interfering with one another, his idea was never reached. Still no
doubt a good deal is attained when they arrive rather at the position of
pupil-teacher in a National School; and this at least they occupy very
satisfactorily, as is shown by the success with which so large a school
has been carried on since the Bishop's death. No doubt the Ordination
of more from among their number would go far to raise them in their own
estimation.

'In truth, the carrying out of the principle of the equality of black
and white in a missionary work, which is the principle of this mission,
is very difficult, and cannot be done in all particulars in practice
by anyone, and by most people, unless brought up to it, probably not at
all. Nevertheless, it is practicable, and, as we think, essential, and
was in all main points carried out by Bishop Patteson. But the effect of
this must not be exaggerated. It is true that we have no servants, yet a
boy regularly brought water, &c., for the Bishop, and a woman regularly
swept and cleaned his rooms, and received regular wages for it.
The Bishop never cooked his dinner or did any such work except upon
occasions on which a bachelor curate in England does much of the kind,
as a matter of course. The extraordinary thing is that it is, as he at
any rate supposed, the custom in other missions to make scholars and
converts servants as a matter of course; and the difference lies not in
the work which is done or not done by the one party or the other, but
in the social relation of equality which subsists between them, and the
spirit in which the work is asked for and rendered.

'The main thing to notice about the Bishop is that there was nothing
forced or unnatural in his manner of taking a position of equality, and
equality as real in any way as his superiority in another. Consequently,
there was never the least loss of dignity or authority on his part.

'There never was visible the smallest diminution of freedom and
affection in the intercourse that went on. It required some knowledge
in one respect to appreciate the extraordinary facility with which he
conversed with boys from various islands. A stranger would be struck
with his bright smiles and sweet tones as he would address some little
stranger who came into his room; but one who knew a little of the
languages alone could know with what extraordinary quickness he
passed from one language to another, talking to many boys in their own
language, but accommodating his tongue with wonderful readiness to
each in succession. It would be hard to say how many languages he could
speak; those which he spoke quite freely, to my knowledge, were not so
many: Mota, Bauro, Mahaga, and Nengone, certainly; some others no doubt
quite readily when among the people who spoke them; and very many only
with a small vocabulary which was every instant being enlarged. It does
not appear to me that his scientific philological acquirements were
extraordinary; but that his memory for words giving him such a command
of vocabulary, and so wide a scope for comparison, and his accurate and
delicate ear to catch the sounds, and power of reproducing them, were
altogether wonderful and very rarely equalled. A man of his faculty of
expression and powers of mind could not speak like a native; he spoke
better than a native, than a native of Mota at least. That is that,
although no doubt he never was quite master of the little delicate
points of Mota scholarship, which no one not a native can keep quite
right, and no native can account for, yet his vocabulary was so large
and accurate, and his feeling of the native ways of looking at things
and representing them in words so true, that he spoke to them more
clearly and forcibly than even any native spoke, and with the power of
an educated mind controlling while following the native taste. He was an
enthusiast, no doubt, about these languages, and jealous of their claim
to be considered true language, and not what people suppose them to be,
the uncouth jargon of savages. I will only say that his translations
of some of the Psalms into Mota are as lofty in their diction and as
harmonious in their rhythm, in my estimation, as anything almost I read
in any language. This no doubt sounds exaggerated, and must be taken
only for what it is worth.

'It was probably in a great measure because his natural power of
acquiring languages was so extraordinary, and needed so very little
labour in him, that he did so very little to put on paper what he knew
of all those many tongues. All there is in print I have put together.
Besides this, he carried the same unfortunate way of leaving off what he
had begun into these notes on language also. In the year '63-'64 he got
printed a number of small grammatical papers in almost all the languages
he knew, because he felt he ought not to subject them to the risk
of being lost. Another reason why he did not go into any laborious
manuscript or printing work with the various languages was, that he
saw as time went on, first, that it was so very uncertain what language
would come in practice into request; and, secondly, that one
language would suffice for the use, in practice, of all natives of a
neighbourhood. For example, the language of part of Mae (Three Hills),
in the New Hebrides, was once studied and well known. Nothing whatever
came of the intercourse with that island, once so constant, I don't know
why, and now the people themselves are destroyed almost, and hopes of
doing them good destroyed by the slave trade. And, secondly, the use
of the Mota language in our ordinary intercourse here has very much
diminished the need for any one's knowing a particular language beyond
the missionary who has charge of the boys who speak it. Thus the Bishop
rather handed over the language of Bauro to Mr. Atkin, of Florida to Mr.
Brooke, of Leper's Island to Mr. Price; and as the common teaching of
all boys who belonged to either of the principal groups into which the
school fell went on in Mota, there was no practical use in the other
tongues the Bishop knew, except in his voyages, and in giving him more
effectual powers of influencing those to whom he could speak in their
own tongue. Besides, he saw so clearly the great advantage, on the one
hand, of throwing together in every possible way the boys from all the
islands, which was much helped by the use of one language, and, on the
other hand, the natural tendency in a group of boys from one island or
neighbourhood to keep separate, and of the teacher of a particular set
to keep them separate with himself, that, without saying much about
it, he discouraged the printing of other languages besides Mota, and
in other ways kept them rather in the background. How things would have
arranged themselves if Mota had not by circumstances come into such
prominence I cannot say, but the predominance of Mota came in with the
internal organisation of the Mission by Mr. Pritt. It is impossible for
one who knew Bishop Patteson intimately, and the later condition of the
Mission intimately, to lose sight for long of Mr. Pritt's influence and
his useful work.'

Perhaps this chapter can best be completed by the external testimony
of a visitor to Norfolk Island, given in a letter to the Editor of the
'Australian Churchman':--

'Daily at 7 A.M. the bell rings for chapel about one minute, and
all hands promptly repair thither. In spite of the vast varieties of
language and dialect spoken by fifty or sixty human beings, collected
from twenty or thirty islets of the Pacific main, no practical
difficulty has been found in using the Mota as the general language
in Chapel and school, so that in a short time a congregation of twenty
languages are able to join in worship in the one Mota tongue, more or
less akin to all the rest, and a class of, say, nine boys, speaking
by nature five different languages, easily join in using the one Mota
language, just as a Frenchman, a German, a Russian, a Pole, an Italian,
and an Englishman, all meeting in the same cafe or railway carriage, on
the same glacier or mountain top, might harmoniously agree to use the
French language as their medium of communication. So the service is
conducted in Mota with one exception only. The collect for the day is
read in English, as a brief allowable concession to the ears and hearts
of the English members of the Mission. The service consists of
the greater part of the Church of England Service translated.
Some modifications have been made to suit the course of religious
instruction. The Psalms are chanted and hymns sung in parts, and always
in admirable tune, by the congregation. Noteworthy are the perfect
attention, the reverent attitude, the hearty swing and unison of the
little congregation, a lesson, I felt with shame, to many of our white
congregations.

'Immediately after service clinks out the breakfast bell, and, with
marvellous promptitude and punctuality, whites and blacks, lay and
clerical, are seen flocking to the mess-room. The whites sit at the
upper end of the table, but beyond the special privilege of tea, all
fare alike, chiefly on vegetables: yams or sweet potatoes, and carrots
or vegetable marrows, as may suit the season, with plenty of biscuit
for more ambitious teeth, and plenty of milk to wash it down. Soon
afterwards comes school for an hour and a half. Then work for the boys
and men, planting yams, reaping wheat, mowing oats, fencing, carting,
building, as the call may be, only no caste distinction or ordering
about; it is not go and do that, but come and do this, whether the
leader be an ordained clergyman, a white farm bailiff, or a white
carpenter. This is noteworthy, and your readers will gain no clear idea
of the Mission if they do not seize this point, for it is no matter of
mere detail, but one of principle. The system is not that of the ship
or the regiment, of the farm or the manufactory of the old country, but
essentially of the family. It is not the officer or master saying "Go"
but the father or the brother saying "Come." And to this, I firmly
believe, is the hearty cheerful following and merry work of the blacks
chiefly due. At 1 P.M. is dinner, much the same as breakfast. Meat,
though not unknown, is the weak point of the Mission dietary. In the
afternoon, work. At 6, tea. In the evening, class again for an hour
or two; this evening class being sometimes a singing lesson, heartily
enjoyed by the teacher. I forget precisely when the boys have to prepare
matter arising out of the lessons they have received viva voce.

'There are evening prayers, and bed-time is early. Noteworthy are the
happy conjunctions of perfect discipline with perfect jollity, the
marvellous attainment of a happy familiarity which does not "breed
contempt."

'I presume I need scarcely say to your readers that besides education
in reading, writing, and arithmetic, through the medium of the Mota
language, instruction in the Holy Scriptures and the most careful
explanations of their meaning and mutual relation, forms a main part of
the teaching given. The men and boys of the senior classes take notes;
notes not by order expressly to be inspected, but, so to say, private
notes for the aid of their memories; and from the translation given to
me by Bishop Patteson of some of these, I should say that few, if any,
of the senior class of an English Sunday School could give anything like
so close, and sometimes philosophical, an explanation of Scripture, and
that sometimes in remarkably few words.

'There remains to be noticed one most effectual means of doing good.
After evening school, the Bishop, his clergy, and his aides, retire
mostly into their own rooms. Then, quietly and shyly, on this night or
the other night, one or two, three or four of the more intelligent of
the black boys steal silently up to the Bishop's side, and by fits
and starts, slowly, often painfully, tell their feelings, state their
difficulties, ask for help, and, I believe, with God's blessing, rarely
fail to find it. They are not gushing as negroes, but shy as Englishmen;
we Englishmen ought, indeed, to have a fellow-feeling for these poor
black boys and help them with all our hearts.

'Such is the routine for five of the six work days. Saturday is whole
holiday, and all hands go to fish if the sea permits; if not, to play
rounders or what not. Merry lads they are, as ever gladdened an English
playground.

'On Sunday, the early Chapel is omitted. The full Liturgy is divided
into two services--I forget the laws--and a kind of sermon in Mota is
given; and in the afternoon, the Bishop, or one of the ordained members
of the Mission, usually goes down to the town to relieve Mr. Nobbs in
his service for the Pitcairners.

'As regards the manual work of the station, this general principle is
observed--women for washing and house-work; the men for planting and
out-of-door work; but no one, white or black, is to be too grand to do
his share. The Bishop's share, indeed, is to study and investigate and
compare the languages and necessary translations, but no one is to
be above manual labour. No one, because he is a white man, is to say,
"Here, black fellow, come and clean my boots." "Here, black people,
believe that I have come to give you a treasure of inestimable price.
Meantime, work for me, am I not your superior? Can I not give you money,
calico, what not?"

'This Christian democracy, if I may so call it, has worked well in the
long run.'

This observer does seem to have entered well into the spirit of the
place; and there can be no doubt that the plan and organisation of the
Mission had by this time been well tested and both found practicable,
and, as at present worked, more than ordinarily successful. The college
was in full working order, with a staff of clergy, all save one formed
under the Bishop, one native deacon and two teachers living with their
wives in a population that was fast becoming moulded by the influence
of Christianity, many more being trained up, and several more islands
in course of gradual preparation by the same process as was further
advanced in Mota.

Such were the achievements which could be thankfully recounted by the
end of 1869.

CHAPTER XII. THE LAST EIGHTEEN MONTHS. 1870-1871.

The prosperous days of every life pass away at last. Suffering and
sorrow, failure and reverse are sure to await all who live out anything
like their term of years, and the missionary is perhaps more liable than
other men to meet with a great disappointment. 'Success but signifies
vicissitude,' and looking at the history of the growth of the Church, it
is impossible not to observe that almost in all cases, immediately upon
any extensive progress, there has followed what seems like a strong
effort of the Evil One at its frustration, either by external
persecution, reaction of heathenism, or, most fatally and frequently
during the last 300 years, from the reckless misdoings of unscrupulous
sailors and colonists. The West Indies, Japan, America, all have the
same shameful tale to tell--what wonder if the same shadow were to be
cast over the Isles of the South?

It is one of the misfortunes, perhaps the temptations of this modern
world, that two of its chief necessaries, sugar and cotton, require a
climate too hot for the labour of men who have intelligence enough to
grow and export them on a large scale, and who are therefore compelled,
as they consider, to employ the forced toil of races able to endure
heat. The Australian colony of Queensland is unfit to produce wheat, but
well able to grow sugar, and the islands of Fiji, which the natives have
implored England to annex, have become the resort of numerous planters
and speculators. There were 300 white inhabitants in the latter at the
time of the visit of the 'Curacoa' in 1865. In 1871 the numbers were
from 5,000 to 6,000. Large sheep farms have been laid out, and sugar
plantations established.

South Sea Islanders are found to have much of the negro toughness and
docility, and, as has been seen, when away from their homes they are
easily amenable, and generally pleasant in manner, and intelligent.
Often too they have a spirit of enterprise, which makes them willing to
leave home, or some feud with a neighbour renders it convenient. Thus
the earlier planters did not find it difficult to procure willing
labourers, chiefly from those southern New Hebrides, Anaiteum, Tanna,
Erromango, &c., which were already accustomed to intercourse with
sandal-wood traders, had resident Scottish or London missionaries, and
might have a fair understanding of what they were undertaking.

The Fiji islanders themselves had been converted by Wesleyan
Missionaries, and these, while the numbers of imported labourers were
small, did not think ill of the system, since it provided the islanders
with their great need, work, and might give them habits of industry.
But in the years 1868 and 1869 the demand began, both in Queensland and
Fiji, to increase beyond what could be supplied by willing labour, and
the premium, £8 a head, on an able-bodied black, was sufficient to tempt
the masters of small craft to obtain the desired article by all possible
means. Neither in the colony nor in Fiji were the planters desirous of
obtaining workers by foul means, but labour they must have, and they
were willing to pay for it. Queensland, anxious to free herself from
any imputation of slave-hunting, has drawn up a set of regulations,
requiring a regular contract to be made with the natives before they are
shipped, for so many years, engaging that they shall receive wages, and
be sent home again at the end of the specified time. No one denies that
when once the labourer has arrived, these rules are carried out; he is
well fed, kindly treated, not over worked, and at the end of three or
five years sent home again with the property he has earned.

A recent traveller has argued that this is all that can be desired, and
that no true friend of the poor islander can object to his being taught
industry and civilisation. Complaints are all 'missionary exaggeration,'
that easy term for disposing of all defence of the dark races, and as
to the difficulty of making a man, whose language is not understood,
understand the terms of a contract--why, we continually sign legal
documents we do not understand! Perhaps not, but we do understand enough
not to find ourselves bound to five years' labour when we thought we
were selling yams, or taking a pleasure trip. And we have some means
of ascertaining the signification of such documents, and of obtaining
redress if we have been deceived.

As to the boasted civilisation, a sugar plantation has not been found
a very advanced school for the American or West Indian negro, and as a
matter of fact, the islander who has fulfilled his term and comes home,
bringing tobacco, clothes, and fire-arms, only becomes a more dangerous
and licentious savage than he was in his simplicity. It is absolutely
impossible, even if the planters wished it, to give any instruction to
these poor fellows, so scattered are the settlements, so various the
languages on each, and to send a man home with guns and gunpowder, and
no touch of Christian teaching, is surely suicidal policy.

Yet, as long as the natives went in any degree willingly, though the
Missionaries might deplore their so doing for the men's own sakes, and
for that of their islands, it was only like a clergyman at home seeing
his lads engage themselves to some occupation more undesirable than they
knew. Therefore, the only thing that has been entreated for by all the
missions of every denomination alike in the South Seas, has been such
sufficient supervision of the labour traffic as may prevent deceit or
violence from being used.

For, in the years 1869 and 1870, if not before, the captains of the
labour ships, finding that a sufficient supply of willing natives could
not be procured, had begun to cajole them on board. When they went
to trade, they were thrust under hatches, and carried off, and if the
Southern New Hebrides became exhausted, and the labour ships entered
on those seas where the 'Southern Cross' was a welcome visitor, these
captains sometimes told the men that 'the Bishop gave no pipes and
tobacco, he was bad, they had better hold with them.' Or else 'the
Bishop could not come himself, but had sent this vessel to fetch them.'
Sometimes even a figure was placed on deck dressed in a black coat, with
a book in his hand, according to the sailors' notion of a missionary,
to induce the natives to come on deck, and there they were clapped under
hatches and carried off.

In 1870, H.M.S. 'Rosario,' Captain Palmer, brought one of these vessels,
the 'Daphne,' into Sydney, where the master was tried for acts of
violence, but a conviction could not be procured, and, as will be seen
in the correspondence, Bishop Patteson did not regret the failure, as he
was anxious that ships of a fair size, with respectable owners, should
not be deterred from the traffic, since the more it became a smuggling,
unrecognised business, the worse and more unscrupulous men would be
employed in it.

But decoying without violence began to fail; the natives were becoming
too cautious, so the canoes were upset, and the men picked up while
struggling in the water. If they tried to resist, they were shot at, and
all endeavours at a rescue were met with the use of firearms.

They were thus swept off in such numbers, that small islands lost almost
all their able-bodied inhabitants, and were in danger of famine for
want of their workers. Also, the Fiji planters, thinking to make the men
happier by bringing their wives, desired that this might be done, but it
was not easy to make out the married couples, nor did the crews trouble
themselves to do so, but took any woman they could lay hands on.
Husbands pursued to save the wives, and were shot down, and a deadly
spirit of hatred and terror against all that was white was aroused.

There is a still lower depth of atrocity, but as far as enquiry of the
Government at Sydney can make out, unconnected with labour traffic, but
with the tortoise-shell trade. Skulls, it will be remembered, were the
ornament of old Iri's house at Bauro, and skulls are still the trophies
in the more savage islands. It seems that some of the traders in
tortoise-shell are in the habit of assisting their clients by conveying
them in their vessels in pursuit of heads. There is no evidence that
they actually do the work of slaughter themselves, though suspicion
is strong, but these are the 'kill-kill' vessels in the patois of the
Pacific, while the kidnappers are the 'snatch-snatch.' Both together,
these causes were working up the islanders to a perilous pitch of
suspicion and exasperation during the years 1870, 1871, and thus were
destroying many of the best hopes of the fruit of the toils of all these
years. But the full extent of the mischief was still unknown in Norfolk
Island, when in the midst of the Bishop's plans for the expedition of
1870 came the illness from which he never wholly recovered.

Already he had often felt and spoken of himself as an elderly man. Most
men of a year or two past forty are at the most vigorous period of their
existence, generally indeed with the really individual and effective
work of their lives before them, having hitherto been only serving their
apprenticeship; but Coleridge Patteson had begun his task while in early
youth, and had been obliged to bear at once responsibility and active
toil in no ordinary degree. Few have had to be at once head of a
college, sole tutor and steward, as well as primary schoolmaster all at
once, or afterwards united these charges with those of Bishop, examining
chaplain and theological professor, with the interludes of voyages which
involved intense anxiety and watchfulness, as well as the hardships
of those unrestful nights in native huts, and the exhaustion of the
tropical climate. No wonder then that he was already as one whose work
was well-nigh done, and to whom rest was near. And though the entrance
into that rest was by a sudden stroke, it was one that mercifully spared
the sufferings of a protracted illness, and even if his friends pause to
claim for it the actual honours (on earth) of martyrdom, yet it was no
doubt such a death as he was most willing to die, full in his Master's
service--such a death as all can be thankful to think of. And for
the like-minded young man who shared his death, only with more of the
bitterness thereof, the spirit in which he went forth may best be seen
in part of a letter written in the January of 1870, just after his
Ordination:--

'The right way must be to have a general idea of what to aim at, and to
make for the goal by what seem, as you go, the best ways, not to go on a
course you fixed to yourself before starting without having seen it. It
is so easy for people to hold theories, and excellent ones too, of the
way to manage or deal with the native races, but the worst is that when
you come to work the theory, the native race will never be found what it
ought to be for properly carrying it out. I am quite sure that nothing
is to be done in a hurry; a good and zealous man in ignorance and haste
might do more harm in one year than could be remedied in ten. I would
not root out a single superstition until I had something better to put
in its place, lest if all the weeds were rooted up, what had before been
fertile should become desert, barren, disbelieving in anything. Is not
the right way to plant the true seed and nourish it that it may take
root, and out-grow and choke the weeds? My objection to Mission reports
has always been that the readers want to hear of "progress," and the
writers are thus tempted to write of it, and may they not, without
knowing it, be at times hasty that they may seem to be progressing?
People expect too much. Those do so who see the results of Mission work,
who are engaged in it; those do so who send them. We have the precious
seed to sow, and must sow it when and where we can, but we must not
always be looking out to reap what we have sown. We shall do that
"in due time" if we "faint not." Because missionary work looks like a
failure, it does not follow that it is.

'Our Saviour, the first of all Christian Missionaries, was thirty years
of His life preparing and being prepared for His work. Three years
He spake as never man spake, and did not His work at that time look
a failure? He made no mistakes either in what He taught or the way of
teaching it, and He succeeded, though not to the eyes of men. Should not
we be contented with success like His? And with how much less ought we
not to be contented! So! The wonder is that by our means any result is
accomplished at all.'

These are remarkable words for a young man of twenty-seven, full of
life, health, and vigour, and go far to prove the early ripening of a
spirit chastened in hopes, even while all was bright.

In the latter part of February, Bishop Patteson, after about six days
of warning, was prostrated by a very severe attack of internal
inflammation, and for three days--from the 20th to the 22nd--was in
considerable danger as well as suffering. Mr. Nobbs's medical knowledge
seems, humanly speaking, to have brought him through, and on the 28th,
when an opportunity occurred of sending letters, he was able to write
a note to his brother and sisters--weak and shattered-looking writing
indeed, but telling all that needed to be told, and finishing with 'in
a few days (D.V.) I may be quite well;' then in a postscript: 'Our most
merciful Father, Redeemer and Sanctifier is merciful indeed. There was a
time when I felt drawing near the dark valley, and I thought of Father,
Mother, of Uncle Frank, and our little ones, Frankie and Dolly,'--a
brother and sister who had died in early infancy.

But it was not the Divine will that he should be well in a few days. Day
after day he continued feeble; and suffering much, though not so acutely
as in the first attack, Mr. Nobbs continued to attend him, and the
treatment was approved afterwards by the physicians consulted. All the
clergy took their part in nursing, and the Melanesian youths in turn
watched him day and night. He did not leave his room till the beginning
of April, and then was only equal to the exertion of preparing two lads
for Baptism and a few more for Confirmation. On Easter Sunday he was
able to baptize the first mentioned, and confirm the others; and, the
'Southern Cross' having by this time arrived for the regular voyage, he
embarked in her to obtain further advice at Auckland.

Lady Martin, his kind and tender hostess and nurse, thus describes his
arrival:--

'We had heard of his illness from himself and others, and of his being
out of danger in the middle of March. We were therefore much surprised
when the "Southern Cross," which had sailed a fortnight before for
Norfolk Island, came into the harbour on the morning of the 25th of
April, and anchored in our bay with the Bishop's flag flying. We went
down to the beach with anxious hearts to receive the dear invalid, and
were greatly shocked at his appearance. His beard, which he had allowed
to grow since his illness, and his hair were streaked with grey; his
complexion was very dark, and his frame was bowed like an old man's.

'The Captain and Mr. Bice almost carried him up the hill to our house.
He was very thankful to be on shore, and spoke cheerfully about the
improvement he had made on the voyage. It was not very apparent to us
who had not seen him for two years. Even then he was looking worn and
ill, but still was a young active man. He seemed now quite a wreck. For
the first fortnight his faithful attendant Malagona slept in his room,
and was ready at all hours to wait upon his beloved Bishop. Day by day
he used to sit by the fire in an easy chair, too weak to move or to
attend to reading. He got up very early, being tired of bed. His books
and papers were all brought out, but he did little but doze.'

Yet, in his despatch of the 2nd of May, where the manuscript is as firm,
clear, and beautiful as ever, only somewhat less minute, he says that he
had improved wonderfully on the voyage, though he adds that the doctor
told him, 'At an office, they would insure your life at fifty, instead
of forty-three years of age.'

Dr. Goldsboro had, on examination, discovered a chronic ailment, not
likely, with care and treatment, to be dangerous to life, but forbidding
active exertion or horse exercise, and warning him that a sudden jar
or slip or fall on rugged ground would probably bring on acute
inflammation, which might prove fatal after hours of suffering.

After, in the above-mentioned letter, communicating his exact state, he
adds:--'The pain has been at times very severe, and yet I can't tell
you of the very great happiness and actual enjoyment of many of those
sleepless nights; when, perhaps at 2 A.M., I felt the pain subsiding,
and prayer for rest, if it were His will, was changed into thanksgiving
for the relief; then, as the fire flickered, came restful, peaceful,
happy thoughts, mingled with much, I trust, heart-felt sorrow and
remorse. And Psalms seemed to have a new meaning, and prayers to be so
real, and somehow there was a sense of a very near Presence, and I felt
almost sorry when it was 5.30, and I got up, and my kind Melanesian
nurse made me my morning cup of weak tea, so good to the dry, furred
tongue.

'Well, that is all past and gone; and now the hope and prayer is, that
when my time is really come, I may be better prepared to go.

'Sir William and Lady Martin are pretty well; and I am in clover here,
getting real rest, and gaining ground pretty well. I have all confidence
in the prudence of the other missionaries and leave the work thankfully
in their hands, knowing well Whose work it is, and to Whose guidance and
protection we all trust.'

On the 9th, in a letter sent by a different route, he adds:--

'So I think it will come to my doing my work on Norfolk Island just as
usual, with only occasional inconvenience or discomfort. But I think I
shall have to forego some of the more risky and adventurous part of the
work in the islands. This is all right. It is a sign that the time is
come for me to delegate it to others. I don't mean that I shall not take
the voyages, and stop about on the islands (D.V.) as before. But I must
do it all more carefully, and avoid much that of old I never thought
about. Yet I think it will not, as a matter of fact, much interfere with
my work.

'I have, you understand, no pain now, only some discomfort. The fact
that I can't do things, move about, &c., like a sound healthy person
is not a trial. The relief from pain, the _resty_ feeling, is such a
blessing and enjoyment that I don't seem, as yet at all events, to care
about the other.'

So of that restful state Lady Martin says: 'Indeed it was a most happy
time to us, and I think on the whole to him. It was a new state of
things to keep him without any pricks of conscience or restlessness on
his part. He liked to have a quiet half-hour by the fire at night;
and before I left him I used to put his books near him: his Bible, his
Hebrew Psalter, his father's copy of Bishop Andrewes. Sometimes I would
linger for a few minutes to talk about his past illness. He used to
dwell specially on his dear father's nearness to him at that time.
He spoke once or twice with a reverent holy awe and joy of sleepless
nights, when thoughts of God had filled his soul and sustained him.

'His face, always beautiful from the unworldly purity of its expression,
was really as the face of an angel while he spoke of these things and of
the love and kindness he had received. He seemed to have been standing
on the very brink of the river, and it was yet doubtful whether he was
to abide with us. Now, looking back, we can see how mercifully God was
dealing with His servant. A time of quiet and of preparation for death
given to him apart from the hurry of his daily life, then a few months
of active service, and then the crown.

'At the end of a fortnight (?--you must please to rectify dates) the
"Southern Cross" sailed again, with Mr. Bice and Malagona on board;
when, just as we were expecting she would have reached Norfolk Island,
she was driving back into the harbour.'

The following letter to the Bishop of Lichfield gives an account of her
peril:--

'Taurarua: May 11, 1870.

'My dear Bishop,--I have to tell you of another great mercy. The
"Southern Cross" left Auckland on May 3--fair wind and fine weather.

'On May 5 she was within 185 miles of Norfolk Island.

'Then came on a fearful gale from the east and northeast to north-west.
They were hove-to for three days, everything battened down; port boat
and davits carried away by a sea; after a while the starboard boat
dashed to pieces.

'Malagona, my nurse at Norfolk Island, who was brought up for a treat,
was thrown completely across the cabin by one lurch, when she seemed
almost settling down. It was dark. The water in the cabin, which
had come through the dead-light, showed a little phosphoric glimmer.
"Brother," he said to Bice, "are we dying?" "I don't know; it seems like
it. We are in God's hands." "Yes, I know."

'Mr. (Captain) Jacobs was calm and self-possessed. He even behaved
excellently. Once, all on deck were washed into the lee scuppers, and
one man washed overboard; but he held a rope, and with it and the recoil
was borne in again upon the deck. Lowest barometer, 28° 65'! We were
startled yesterday at about 4 P.M. with the news of the reappearance of
the vessel. I think that some £30 and the replacing the boats will pay
damages, but one doesn't think of that.

'We hope to get, at all events, one ready-made boat, so as to cause no
delay. The good people at Norfolk Island will be anxious if the vessel
does not reappear soon.

'Auckland, June 6th--"Southern Cross" could not sail till May 23. If I
am not found by them at Norfolk Island on their return, they are to come
on for me. I hope to make a two months' cruise.

'General health quite well, no pain for weeks past. Dr. Goldsboro' says
I shall be better in a hot climate; but he won't let me out of his hands
yet.

'I really think I shall do very well by-and-by.

'Your very affectionate

'J. C. PATTESON.'

'The repairs took some time (continues Lady Martin). The delay must have
been very trying to the Bishop in his weak state, as it threw out all
the plans for the winter voyage; but he showed no signs of fretfulness
or of a restless desire to go himself to see after matters. The winter
was unusually cold after the vessel sailed again; and I used to wonder
sometimes whether he lay awake listening to the wind that howled in
gusts round the house; he may have, but certainly there was always a
look of unruffled calm and peace on his face when we met in the morning.

'Tis enough that Thou shouldst care Why should I the burden bear?

'Our dear friend mended very slowly. It was more than a month before he
could bear even to be driven up to Bishop's Court to receive the Holy
Communion in the private Chapel, and some time longer before he could
sit through the Sunday services. I cannot be sure whether he went first
on Ascension Day. His own letters may inform you. I only remember how
thankful and happy he was to be able to get there. He had felt the
loss of the frequent Communions in which he could join all through his
illness.'

He was making a real step towards recovery, and by the 10th of June he
was able to go and stay at St. Sepulchre's parsonage with Mr. Dudley,
and attend the gathering at the Bishop of Auckland's Chapel on St.
Barnabas Day; but the calm enjoyment and soothing indifference which
seems so often a privilege of the weakness of recovery was broken by
fuller tidings respecting the labour traffic that imperilled his work. A
schooner had come in from Fate with from fifteen to twenty natives
from that and other islands to work in flax mills; and a little later a
letter arrived from his correspondent in Fiji, showing to what an extent
the immigration thither had come, and how large a proportion of the
young men working in the sugar plantations had been decoyed from home on
false pretences.

This was the point, as far as at the time appeared in New Zealand. If
violence had then begun, no very flagrant instances were known; and the
Bishop was not at all averse to the employment of natives, well knowing
how great an agent in improvement is civilisation. But to have them
carried off without understanding what they were about, and then set to
hard labour, was quite a different thing.

'The difficulty is (he writes) to prove in a court of law what everyone
acknowledges to be the case, viz., that the natives of the islands are
inveigled on board these vessels by divers means, then put under the
hatches and sold, ignorant of their destination or future employment,
and without any promises of being returned home.

'It comes to this, though of course it is denied by the planters and the
Queensland Government, which is concerned in keeping up the trade.

'There will always be some islanders who from a roving nature, or from a
necessity of escaping retaliation for some injury done by them, or from
mere curiosity, will paddle off to a ship and go on board. But they
can't understand the white men: they are tempted below to look at some
presents, or, if the vessel be at anchor, are allowed to sleep on board.
Then, in the one case, the hatches are clapped on; in the other, sail is
made in the night, and so they are taken off to a labour of which they
know nothing, among people of whom they know nothing!

'It is the regulation rather than the suppression of the employment of
native labourers that I advocate. There is no reason why some of these
islanders should not go to a plantation under proper regulations. My
notion is that--

'1. A few vessels should be licensed for the purpose of conveying these
islanders backwards and forwards.

'2. That such vessels should be in charge of fit persons, heavily bound
to observe certain rules, and punishable summarily for violating them.

'3. That the missionaries, wherever they be situated, should be informed
of the names of the vessels thus licensed, of the sailing masters, &c.

'4. That all other vessels engaged in the trade should be treated as
pirates, and confiscated summarily when caught.

'5. That a small man-of-war, commanded by a man fit for such work,
should cruise among the islands from which islanders are being taken.

'6. That special legislative enactments should be passed enabling the
Sydney Court to deal with the matter equitably.

'Something of this kind is the best plan I can suggest.

'It is right and good that the "Galatea" should undertake such work; and
yet we want a little tender to the "Galatea" rather than the big vessel,
as I think my experience of large vessels is that there is too much of
routine; and great delay is occasioned by the difficulty of turning a
great ship round, and you can't work near the shore, and even if chasing
a little vessel which could be caught at once in the open sea, you
may be dodged by her among islands. Yet the sense of the country is
expressed very well by sending "Captain Edinburgh" himself to cruise
between New Caledonia, Fiji, and the Kingsmill Islands, for the
suppression of the illegal deportation of natives. So reads the despatch
which the Governor showed me the other day. He asked me to give such
information as might be useful to the "Galatea."'

With the Governor, Sir George Bowen, an old Oxford friend, Bishop
Patteson spent several days, and submitted to him a memorial to
Government, on the subject, both at home and in Queensland, stating the
regulations, as above expressed.

The 'Rosario,' Captain Palmer, had actually captured the 'Daphne,' a
vessel engaged in capturing natives, and brought her into Sydney, where
the master was tried; but though there was no doubt of the outrage, it
was not possible to obtain a conviction; and a Fiji planter whom the
Bishop met in Auckland told him that the seizure of the 'Daphne' would
merely lead to the exclusion of the better class of men from the trade,
and that it would not stop the demand for native labourers. It would
always pay to 'run' cargoes of natives into the many islets of Fiji; and
they would be smuggled into the plantations. And there the government
was almost necessarily by the whip. 'I can't talk to them,' said the
planter; 'I can only point to what they are to do; and if they are lazy,
I whip them.'

It was no wonder that Mr. Dudley thought the Bishop depressed; and,
moreover, he over-exerted himself, walking a mile and a half one day,
and preaching in the little Church of St. Sepulchre's. He longed to
return to St. Barnabas, but was in no state to rough it in a common
little sailing vessel, so he waited on. 'I am very lazy,' he says: 'I
can't do much work. Sir William and I read Hebrew, and discuss many
questions in which his opinion is most valuable. I have business letters
to write, e.g., about the deportation of islanders and about a clergyman
whom the Melbourne people are helping to go to Fiji.... This is perhaps
a good trial for me, to be sitting lazily here and thinking of others at
work!'

This was written about the middle of July, when the convalescent had
regained much more strength, and could walk into town, or stand to read
and write according to his favourite custom, as well as thoroughly enjoy
conversations with his hosts at Taurarua.

'I never saw (observes Lady Martin) a larger charity united to a more
living faith. He knew in Whom he believed; and this unclouded confidence
seemed to enable him to be gentle and discriminating in his judgments on
those whose minds are clouded with doubt.

'It was pleasant to see how at this time his mind went back to the
interests which he had laid aside for years. He liked to hear bits of
Handel, and other old masters, and would go back to recollections of
foreign travels and of his enthusiasm for music and art as freshly and
brightly as he had done in the first days of our acquaintance. But this
was only in the "gloaming" or late in the evening when he was resting in
his easy chair.

'At the end of July we were expecting a young relation and his bride to
spend a week with us before returning to England, and we gave the Bishop
the option of going to Bishop's Court for the time, where he was always
warmly welcomed. Some years before, he would certainly have slipped away
from the chatter and bustle; but now he decided to remain with us, and
throw himself into the small interests around, in a way which touched
and delighted the young couple greatly. He put away his natural
shrinking from society and his student ways, and was willing to enjoy
everything as it came. We had a curious instance at this time of the
real difficulty the Bishop felt about writing sermons. He had not
attempted to preach, save at Mr. Dudley's Church; but a week or two
before he left us, Archdeacon Maunsell came to beg of him to preach at
St. Mary's, where he had often taken service formerly. He promised to
do so without any apparent hesitation, and said afterwards to us that he
could not refuse such a request. So on Wednesday he began to prepare a
sermon. He was sitting each morning in the room where I was at work, and
he talked to me from time to time of the thoughts that were in his mind.
The subject was all that was implied in the words, "I have called thee
by thy name," the personal knowledge, interest, &c.; and I was rejoicing
in the treat in store, when, to my dismay, I saw sheet after sheet,
which had been written in his neat, clear hand as though the thoughts
flowed on without effort, flung into the fire. "I can't write," was
said again and again, and the work put by for another day. At last, on
Saturday morning, he walked up to the parsonage to make his excuses.
Happily Dr. Maunsell would not let him off, so on Sunday the Bishop,
without any notes or sermon, spoke to us out of the fulness of his heart
about the Mission work, of its encouragements and its difficulties. He
described, in a way that none can ever forget who heard the plaintive
tones of his voice and saw his worn face that day, what it was to be
alone on an island for weeks, surrounded by noisy heathen, and the
comfort and strength gained then by the thought that we who have the
full privileges of Christian worship and communion were remembering such
in our prayers.

'Our young friends sailed on Sunday, August 7; and we expected the
Bishop to sail the next day, but the winds were foul and boisterous, and
we had him with us till Friday morning, the 12th. Those last days were
very happy ones. His thoughts went back to Melanesia and to his work;
and every evening we drew him to tell of adventures and perils, and to
describe the islands to us in a way he had scarcely ever done before. I
think it was partly to please our Maori maiden, who sat by his side on a
footstool in the twilight, plying him with questions with so much lively
natural interest that he warmed up in return. Generally, he shrank
into himself, and became reserved at once if pressed to tell of his
own doings. He spoke one evening quite openly about his dislike to ship
life. We were laughing at some remembrance of the Bishop of Lichfield's
satisfaction when once afloat; and he burst into an expression of
wonder, how anyone could go to sea for pleasure. I asked him what he
disliked in particular, and he answered, Everything. That he always felt
dizzy, headachy, and unable to read with comfort; the food was greasy,
and there was a general sense of dirt and discomfort. As the time drew
nigh for sailing, he talked a good deal about the rapidly growing evil
of the labour trade. He grew very depressed one day, and spoke quite
despondingly of the future prospects of the Mission. He told us of one
island, Vanua Lava, I think, where, a few years ago, 300 men used to
assemble on the beach to welcome him. Now, only thirty or forty were
left. He saw that if the trade went on at the same rate as it had been
doing for the last year or two, many islands would be depopulated, and
everywhere he must expect to meet with suspicion or open ill will.'

'The next morning the cloud had rolled away, and he was ready to go
forth in faith to do the work appointed him, leaving the result in God's
hands. We accompanied him to the boat on Friday morning. Bishop and Mrs.
Cowie came down, and one or two of the clergy, and his two English boys
who were to go with him.

'It was a lovely morning. We rejoiced to see how much he had improved
in his health during his stay. He had been very good and tractable about
taking nourishment, and certainly looked and was all the better for
generous diet. He had almost grown stout, and walked upright and
briskly. Sir William parted with him on the beach, where we have had
so many partings; and I meant to do so too, but a friend had brought
another boat, and invited me to come, so I gladly went off to the
"Southern Cross," which was lying about half-a-mile off. The Cowies were
very anxious to see the vessel, and the Bishop showed them all about. I
was anxious to go down to his cabin, and arrange in safe nooks comforts
for his use on the voyage. In half an hour the vessel was ready to sail.
One last grasp of the hand, one loving smile, and we parted--never to
meet again on earth.'

So far this kind and much-loved friend! And to this I cannot but add an
extract from the letter she wrote to his sisters immediately after the
parting, since it adds another touch to the character now ripened:--

'I think you are a little mistaken in your notion that your brother
would feel no interest in your home doings. He has quite passed out of
that early stage when the mind can dwell on nothing but its own sphere
of work. He takes a lively interest in all that is going on at home,
specially in Church matters, and came back quite refreshed from Bishop's
Court with all that Bishop Cowie had told him.

'What he would really dread in England would be the being lionised, and
being compelled to speak and preach here, there, and everywhere. And yet
he would have no power to say nay. But the cold would shrivel him up,
and society--dinners, table talk--would bore him, and he would pine for
his warmth and his books. Not a bit the less does he dearly love you
all.'

The brother and sisters knew it, and forebore to harass him with
remonstrances, but resigned themselves to the knowledge that nothing
would bring him home save absolute disqualification for his mission.

His own last letter from Taurarua dwells upon the enjoyment of his
conversations with Sir William Martin and Bishop Cowie; and then goes
into details of a vision of obtaining young English boys to whom a good
education would be a boon, bringing them up at St. Barnabas, and then,
if they turned out fit for the Mission there, they would be prepared--if
not, they would have had the benefit of the schooling.

Meantime the 'Southern Cross,' with three of the clergy, had made the
voyage according to minute directions from the Bishop. Mr. Atkin made
his yearly visit to Bauro. He says:--

'I hardly expected that when we came back we should have found the peace
still unbroken between Wango and Hane, but it is. Though not very good
friends, they are still at peace. In the chief's house I was presented
with a piece of pork, about two pounds, and a dish of tauma (their
favourite), a pudding made of yams, nuts, and cocoa-nut milk, and cooked
by steaming. Fortunately, good manners allowed me to take it away.
Before we left the village, it took two women to carry our provisions. A
little boy came back with us, to stay with Taki. The two boys who ought
to have come last year are very anxious to do so still.

'July 12th.--We anchored the boat on the beach at Tawatana, and I went
into the oka (public house) to see the tauma prepared for the feast.
There were thirty-eight dishes. The largest, about four feet long, stood
nearly three feet high. I tried to lift one from the ground, but could
not; it must have been five hundredweight; the smallest daras held
eighty or a hundred pounds. I calculated that there was at least two
tons. When freshly made it is very good, but at these feasts it is
always old and sour, and dripping with cocoa-nut oil. The daras, or
wooden bowls, into which it is put, are almost always carved and inlaid
with mother-of-pearl shell.

'There was a great crowd at the landing-place at Saa (Malanta) to meet
us. Nobody knew Wate at first, but he was soon recognised. The boat was
pulled up into a little river, and everything stealable taken out. We
then went up to the village, passing some women crying on the way; here,
as at Uleawa, crying seems to be the sign of joy, or welcome. Wate's
father's new house is the best I have seen in any of these islands. It
has two rooms; the drawing-room is about forty-five feet long by thirty
wide, with a roof projecting about six feet outside the wall at the end
and four feet at the eaves; the bed-room is about eighteen feet wide,
so that the whole roof covers about seventy feet by forty. Wate's father
lives like a chief of the olden time, with large property, but nothing
of his own; all that he has or gets goes as soon as he gets it to his
retainers.

'August 3rd.--Went to Heuru. The bwea began about ten o'clock. A bwea
means a stage, but the word is used as we speak of "the stage." There
is a stage in this case about three feet square, twenty feet from the
ground, walled in to three feet height on three sides, with a ladder of
two stout poles. On the bwea sit or stand two or three men, on either
side having a bag; visitors run up the ladder, put their money or
porpoise teeth into the bags if small, give it to the men if large;
and, if their present is worth it, make a speech a little way down the
ladder. A party from a village generally send up a spokesman, and when
he has done go up in a body and give their money. Taki was orator for
Waiio, and I led the party with my present of beads, which if red or
white pass as money. The object of a bwea is to get money, but it may
only be held on proper occasions. The occasion of this was the adoption
of a Mara lad by the chief man at Heuru; to get money to pay the lad's
friends he held a bwea that all his friends might help him. As he was
a connection of Taki's, and Waiio is the richest of the settlements,
he got great spoils from thence.... At Tawatana the young men put on
petticoats of cocoa-nut leaves, and danced their graceful "mao." I had
only seen it before at Norfolk Island; it is very pretty, but must be
very difficult to learn; they say that not many know it. At Nora they
danced another most dirty dance: all the performers were daubed from
head to foot with mud, and wore masks covered with mud and ashes; the
aim of the dance, as far as I could see, was to ridicule all sorts
of infirmities and imbecilities, tottering, limping, staggering, and
reeling, but in time and order. One man had a basket of dripping mud
on his head which was streaming down his face and back all the time. A
great point is that the actors should not be recognised. Mr. Brooke was
likewise dropped at Florida. After this the rest of the party had gone
on to Mota, where George Sarawia was found working away well at
his school, plenty of attendants, and the whole place clean,
well-ventilated, and well-regulated.

A watch sent out as a present to Sarawia was a delight which he could
quite appreciate, and he had sent back very sensible right-minded
letters. Of Bishop Patteson's voyage the history is pieced together from
two letters, one to the sisters, the other to the Bishop of Lichfield.
Neither was begun till September, after which they make a tolerably full
diary.

'More than five weeks have passed since I left New Zealand, more than
three since I left Norfolk Island. Mr. Codrington and I reached Mota on
the morning of the eighth day after leaving Norfolk Island. I spent but
half an hour on shore with George Sarawia and his people; sailed across
to Aroa and Matlavo, where I landed eight or ten of our scholars; and
came on at once to the Solomon Islands. On Sunday morning (September 4)
what joy to find Mr. Atkin well and hearty!

'Mr. Brooke, who took up his abode at the village of Mboli, had with him
Dudley Lankana and Richard Maru, but they were a good deal absorbed by
their relations, and not so useful to him as had been hoped, though they
kept out of heathen habits, and remained constant to their intention of
returning.

'"Brooke," says the Bishop, "knows and speaks the one language of
Anudha very well, for there is but one language, with a few dialectical
varieties of course."

'A nice little house was built for him at Mboli, which I have always
thought to be a very healthy place.

'The coral grit and sand runs a long way in shore under cocoa-nut
groves, but there is no very dense undergrowth. The wind when easterly
blows freely along and is drawn rather upon the shore there. Two miles
to windward of Mboli is the good harbour of Sara, where the vessel
anchored with us.

'Brooke's house was raised on poles, five feet from the ground; the
floor made of neat smooth bamboos, basket-worked. He had his table and
two benches, one easy cane chair, cork bed, boxes, harmonium, and plenty
of food.

'Close to his house is the magnificent kiala, or boat house, about
180 feet long, 42 high, and about as many feet broad, a really grand,
imposing place. Here Brooke, in surplice, with his little band, had his
Sunday services, singing hymns, and chanting Psalms, in parts, in the
presence of from 150 to 300, once nearly 400 people, to whom he spoke of
course, usually twice, making two sermonets.

'The island is unlike any other; much more open, much less bush, but it
is not coral crag that crops out, but almost bare reddish rock, with but
little soil on it, and the population, which is large, finds it hard to
procure food.

'Three brothers, Takua, Savai, and Dikea, are the principal men. Local
chiefs exercise some small authority in each village. Anudha, or Aunta,
is properly the name of a small island, for there is no one great
mainland, but many islands separated by very narrow salt-water creeks
and rivers, along which a skiff may be sculled.

'Brooke has been over every part of it. His only difficulties arose from
jealousy on the part of Takua and Savai, who, living at Mboli, were
very wroth at his not being their tame Pakeha, at his asserting his
independence, his motive in coming to teach all, and make known to all
alike a common message. Especially they were indignant at his making
up small parties of boys from different parts of the island, as they
of course wanted to monopolise him, and through him the trade. He has
evidently been firm and friendly too, keeping his temper, yet speaking
out very plainly. The result, as far as bringing boys goes, is that
we have now thirteen on board, including Dudley and Richard, from six
different parts of the island. But so vexed was Takua, that he would not
fulfil his promise of sending his two little girls.

'The fortnight spent in the Solomon Islands has been very fine;
winds very light, and very little rain. We have at length got Stephen
Taroniara's child, a little girl of about seven years old, Paraitaku,
from the old grandmother and aunts. So, thank God, she will be brought
up as a Christian child. She is a dear little thing.

'This work of Mr. Atkin and Mr. Brooke in the easterly and more
north-westerly parts of the Solomon Islands respectively, is the nearest
approach that has yet been made to regular missionary operations there.
Our short visits in the "Southern Cross," or my short three to ten days'
visits on shore are all useful as preparing the way for something more.
But it is the quiet, lengthened staying for some months among these
islanders that gives opportunities for knowing them and their ways. They
do everything with endless talk and discussion about it; and it is only
by living with, and moving about constantly among them, that any hold
can be gained over them. I think that the Mission is now in a more
hopeful state than ever before in these islands.

'Our parties of scholars are large. They trust quite little fellows
with us, and for any length of time. True, these little fellows cannot
exercise any influence for years to come; but if we take young men or
lads of sixteen or eighteen years old, it needs as many years to qualify
them (with heathen habits to be unlearned, and with the quickness of
apprehension of new teaching already gone) for being useful among their
people as would suffice for the arrival of these young children at
mature age.'

Three Tikopian giants had made a visit at Mota in the course of this
year, attracted by the fame of the hospitality and fertility of the
place. George Sarawia had got on well with them, and tried to keep them
to meet the Bishop, but one of them fell sick, and the others took him
away. This was hailed as a possible opening to those two curious
isles, Oanuta and Tikopia, in so far as the 'Southern Cross' work was
concerned. The Bishop continues, to his former Primate:--

'On the whole, things seem to be going on favourably. The Banks
Islanders are very shy now of the vessels sent to carry off men to Fiji
or Queensland. They will find their way into the Solomon Islands soon.
One, indeed, a cutter, has taken about twenty men from Ulava. They were
all kept under hatches. We warn the people wherever we go.

'The pressing question now is how to supply our young men and women,
married Christian couples, with proper occupations to prevent their
acquiescing in an indolent, useless, selfish life.

'When their "education is finished," they have no profession, no need
to work to obtain a livelihood for themselves, wives, and children. They
can't all be clergymen, nor all even teachers in such a sense as to make
it a calling and occupation.

'Some wants they have--houses fit for persons who like reading and
writing, a table, a bench, a window becomes necessary. Coral lime houses
would be good for them. They make and wear light clothing, they wash and
cook on new principles, &c.; but these wants are soon supplied. Only
a practical sense of the duty of helping others to know what they have
been taught will keep them from idleness and its consequences. And how
few of us, with no other safeguard against idleness, would be other than
idle!

'Some, I think, may be helped by being associated with us, and with
their friends of the Solomon Isles, New Hebrides, in spending some
months on shore, where they would soon acquire a fair knowledge of the
language, and might be of great use to less advanced friends. This would
be a real work for them. Just as Mission work is the safeguard of
the settled Church, so it must be the safeguard of these young native
Churches.

'No doubt the Missionary spirit infused into the Samoan and Karotongan
Churches kept them living and fruitful. I am trying to think upon these
points.

'If the contrast be too violent between the Mission station with its
daily occupations and the island life, it becomes very difficult for the
natives to perpetuate the habits of the one amidst the circumstances of
the other.

'The habits acquired at Norfolk Island ought to be capable of being
easily transferred to the conditions of the Melanesian isles.

'They ought, I think, to wear (in the hot summer and on week days) light
loose clothing, which could be worn at home; or clothing of the same
shape and fit (though perhaps of warm materials) might be worn.

'The circumstances of the two places must be different, but we must
minimise the difference as much as possible.

'I often think of the steady-going English family, with regular family
prayers, and attendance twice at Church on Sunday, and the same people
spending two months on the Continent. No opportunity is made for family
prayers before the table d'hôte breakfast; and at least one part of the
Sunday is spent in the Roman Catholic Cathedral, or in a different way
from the home use. And if this be so with good respectable folk among
ourselves, what must be the effect of altered circumstances on our
Melanesians?

'It is not easy to keep up the devotional life on shore at home, or in
the islands, or on board ship with the same regularity. And where
the convert must be more dependent than we ought to be on external
opportunities, the difficulty is increased. So if the alteration be as
little as possible, we gain something, we make it easier to our scholars
to perpetuate uninterruptedly the Norfolk Island life.

'To live with them and try to show them how, on their island, to keep up
the religious life unchanged amidst the changed outward circumstances is
a good way, but then we can't live among them very long, and our example
is so often faulty.

'Curiously do these practical difficulties make us realise that there
may really be some benefit in artificial wants; and that probably the
most favourable situation for the development of the human character is
a climate where the necessaries of life are just sufficiently difficult
of production to require steady industry, and yet that nature should not
be so rigorous as to make living so hard a matter as to occupy the whole
attention, and dwarf the mental faculties.'

How remarkable, is the date of the following thoughts, almost like a
foreboding:--

'September 19th, 10 A.M. (to the sisters).--We are drawing near Santa
Cruz, about 100 miles off. How my mind is filled with hopes, not
unmingled with anxiety. It is more than eleven years since we sought to
make an opening here, and as yet we have no scholar. Last year, I went
ashore at a large village called Taive, about seven miles from the scene
of our disaster. Many canoes came to us from that spot, and we stood in
quite close in the vessel, so that people swam off to us.

'They are all fighting among the various villages and neighbouring
islets of the Reef Archipelago, twenty miles north of the main island.
It is very difficult what to do or how to try to make a beginning.
God will open a door in His own good time. Yet to see and seize on the
opportunity when given is difficult. How these things make one feel more
than ever the need of Divine guidance, the gift of the Spirit of
Wisdom and Counsel and ghostly strength. To human eyes it seems almost
hopeless. Yet other islanders were in a state almost as hopeless
apparently. Only there is a something about Santa Cruz which is probably
very unreal and imaginary, which seems to present unusual difficulties.
In a few days, I may, by God's goodness, be writing to you again about
our visit to the group. And if the time be come, may God grant us some
opening, and grace to use it aright!

'At Piteni, Matama, Nupani, Analogo, I can talk somewhat to the people,
who are Polynesians, and speak a dialect connected with the Maori of New
Zealand. I think that the people of Indeni (the native name for Santa
Cruz) are also more than half Polynesians; but I don't know a single
sentence of their language properly. I can say nothing about it. They
destroy and distort their organs of pronunciation by excessive use of
the betel-nut and pepper leaf and lime, so that no word is articulately
pronounced. It is very hard to catch the sounds they make amidst the
hubbub on deck or the crowds on shore; yet I think that if we had two
or three lads quietly with us at Norfolk Island, we should soon make out
something.

'Don't think I am depressed by this. I only feel troubled by the sense
that I frequently lose opportunities from indolence and other faults. I
am quite aware that we can do very little to bring about an introduction
to these islanders; and I fully believe that in some quite unexpected
way, or at all events in some way brought about independently of our
efforts, a work will be begun here some day, in the day when God sees it
to be fit and right.

(To the Bishop of Lichfield.)

'September 27th.--Leaving Santa Cruz we came to this group from Ulava
with light fair winds; left Ulava on Saturday at 6 P.M., and sighted the
island, making the west side of Graciosa Bay on the next Wednesday; sea
quite smooth; thermometer reached 92 degrees.

'Sunday.--Very calm, but a light breeze took us into Nukapu. A canoe
came off, I made them understand that it was our day of rest, and that
I would visit them atainu (to-morrow), a curious word. I gave a few
presents, and we slowly sailed on.

'Monday, 6 A.M.--Off Piteni, canoe off, went ashore, low tide, got into
a canoe, and so reached the beach, people well behaved, much talk of
taking lads, quite well understood. The speech is (you remember) very
Maori indeed. There were some nice lads, but no one came away. Four
canoes from Taumaho were here, and two Piteni men came back from Taumaho
while I was on shore.

'At Nukapu at 2.30 P.M. High water, went in easily over the reef by a
short cut, not by our old winding narrow passage. I was greatly pleased
by the people asking me on board, "Where is Bisambe?" "Here I am." "No,
no, the Bisambe tuai (of old). Your mutua (father). Is he below? Why
doesn't he come up with some hatchets?"

'So you see they remember you. A tall middle-aged man, Moto, said that
he was with us in the boat in 1859, and he and I remembered the one-eyed
man who piloted us.

'I went here also into the houses. Here is a quaint place; many things,
not altogether idols, but uncanny, and feared by the people. Women
danced in my honour, people gave small presents, &c., but no volunteers.
I could talk with them with sufficient ease; and took my time, lying at
my ease on a good mat with cane pillow, Anaiteum fashion. I told them
that they had seen on board many little fellows from many islands; that
they need not fear to let their children go; that I could not spend time
and property in coming year by year and giving presents when they were
unwilling to listen to what I said, but they only made unreal promises,
put boys in the boat merely to take them out again, and so we went away
atrakoi.'

There is a little weariness of spirits--not of spirit--in the
contemporaneous words to the home party:--

'I don't know what to write about this voyage. You have heard all about
tropical vegetation, Santa Cruz canoes, houses, customs, &c. If indeed I
could draw these fellows, among whom I was lying on a mat on Monday; if
you could see the fuzzy heads, stained white and red, the great shell
ornaments on the arms, the round plate of shell as big as a small dinner
plate hanging over the chest, the large holes in the lobes of the ears
rilled with perhaps fifteen or twenty rings of tortoise-shell hung on to
one another; the woven scarves and girdles stained yellow with turmeric
and stamped with a black pattern: then it would make a curious sight for
you; and your worthy brother, much at his ease, lying flat on his back
on two or three mats, talking to the people about his great wish to take
away some of the jolly little fellows to whom he was giving fish-hooks,
would no doubt be very "interesting." But really all this has become so
commonplace, that I can't write about it with any freshness. The volcano
in this group, Tenakulu, is now active, and was a fine sight at night,
though the eruption is not continuous as it was in 1859.

'October 9th--Near Ambrym [to the Bishop]. Some people from Aruas, the
large western bay of Vanua Lava, had been taken by force to Queensland
or Fiji. The natives simply speak of "a ship of Sydney."

'Wednesday.--Aroa and Matlavo. 'Henry Tagalana and Joanna and their baby
Elizabeth, William Pasvorang and Lydia, and six others, all baptized,
and four communicants among them, had spent five weeks on shore; a very
nice set. Six of them lived together at Aroa, had regular morning and
evening prayers, sang their hymns, and did what they could, talking to