A History of the English Church in New Zealand Part 14

A mystery still hangs over the precise motives which actuated the archbishop. But perhaps they can be conjectured with a fair degree of probability. The letter upon which he acted arrived in England not long after the news of Volkner's murder. It was hard for those who had never left England to realise the difference between the Hauhau-ridden north and the law-abiding south of such a distant country as New Zealand. The archbishop might well think that his best course was to send out another bishop as soon as possible, without waiting for compliance with const.i.tutional formalities. Accordingly he consecrated the Rev. H. L.

Jenner "to be a bishop in New Zealand"--leaving the local authorities to determine the exact locality of his labours.

But no such ignorance can be pleaded for Bishop Selwyn. When he wrote the letter to the Primate of All England he was fresh from the great synod of 1865, where the whole const.i.tution had been revised, and the procedure in the election of a bishop made more clear and precise. How could he violate a law which he himself had just subscribed? The only answer is that he did not violate it. His letter can have contained no such request as the archbishop imagined. Selwyn himself was as much startled as anyone, when he found what his letter had led to. But obedience to authority was the ruling principle of his life, and, like another Strafford, he determined to take upon himself the whole responsibility for what was done. It was doubtless an act of heroism, but a simple insistence upon the plain truth would have prevented much misunderstanding, and saved the New Zealand Church some years of trouble.

For the appointment of a bishop there must be the consent of the local synod, and also that of the General Synod of New Zealand. Dunedin had no synod, but its church people were represented by a small a.s.sembly called a Rural Deanery Board. Bishop Selwyn brought all his influence to bear upon this body, and in 1867 secured a small majority on a motion of acquiescence in the appointment of Mr. Jenner. But the tide soon turned again. Mr. Peter Carr Young, who had moved the resolution of acquiescence, was called to England, and found Bishop Jenner taking part in a service (at St. Matthias', Stoke Newington) whose extreme ritual was quite sufficient to bewilder an old-fas.h.i.+oned churchman. In his alarm he sent protests both to the Archbishop of Canterbury and to New Zealand. The archbishop expressed his deep regret, and soon afterwards died. The people of Otago were excited and indignant. The case was remitted to the General Synod (1868). In spite of Selwyn's vehement and farewell advocacy, that body refused to confirm Bishop Jenner's claim to the see of Dunedin, though recognising him of course as a bishop in the Christian Church.

Dr. Jenner was still unsatisfied. In the following year he came in person to Dunedin, and won over several church people to his side. A regular synod had now been formed, and everything depended upon its action. The meeting was held in April. It was the most stormy synod of our history. From 4 p.m. on April 8 to 6 a.m. on April 9 it debated Dr.

Jenner's claim. Of the seven clergy, four finally voted in his favour, but the laity, by 15 to 10, negatived the motion of acceptance. Bishop Harper occupied the chair all through the night, and was subjected to vehement attacks from the Jenner side. But he showed such admirable temper and Christian forbearance that the leading opponent, who, on the first day, refused to join in a simple motion of congratulation to the new primate, was conspicuous at the end of the session in supporting the vote of thanks to the president.

Bishop Jenner left the country soon afterwards, but he never withdrew his claims. In this att.i.tude he was supported by the Bishop of Lichfield and by the rest of the English episcopate. The synodical system of the New Zealand Church is justly looked upon as one of the greatest achievements of Selwyn's life. There is something tragic in the reflection that he ended by flouting its authority.

The consecration of Bishop Neville on June 4, 1871, raised the episcopal bench to seven--its present number. But a sore trouble was impending.

The New Zealand bishops were full of anxiety for the health of their young colleague in Melanesia, and before leaving Dunedin they wrote to him an affectionate letter, in which they urged him to leave his work for a time and to seek rest in England. They little thought how soon he was to find his rest, not in his earthly home, but in the heavenly Fatherland itself.

Their anxiety for Bishop Patteson's health was amply justified. During the previous year he had come to Auckland to be treated for some internal inflammation. Here his patience and sweetness had won all hearts, and his friends saw him off to his distant diocese with sad misgivings. He accomplished a lengthy voyage amongst the islands, amidst most favourable conditions, but he did not feel well enough to attend the General Synod which met in Dunedin in Feb. 1871. "I regret very much," he wrote, "that I am unable to attend the meeting of the General Synod. I know full well how the very life of the mission is involved in its connection with the Province of New Zealand, and I earnestly wish to express in every way that I can my sense of the value of this connection, and my respect to the General Synod." The mission, he said, was flouris.h.i.+ng, and was able to pay its way. But his heart was sore at the labour-traffic which was carrying off his islanders to the plantations of Queensland and Fiji. On this subject he sent to the synod a powerfully-worded memorandum, which, as we read it now amongst the synodical doc.u.ments, seems to be written with his heart's blood. The synod pa.s.sed a warm motion of sympathy with himself and his labours. The motion was forwarded to Norfolk Island by the primate, and reached the bishop on the day before that on which he began his last voyage. His reply deals with so many points of importance that it must be given at length:

"My dear Primate,--Your kind letter of March 7th has just reached me.

_The Southern Cross_ arrived to-day; and we sail (D.V.) to-morrow for a four or five months' voyage, as I hope. I am pretty well, always with 'sensations,' but not in pain; and I think that I shall be better in the warm climate of the Islands during the winter.

"I did not at all suppose that the Synod would have taken any notice, and much less such very kind notice, of my absence. Many dear friends, I know full well, think of and pray for me and for us all.

"The point in my memorandum that I ought to have pressed more clearly, perhaps, is this, viz., the mode adopted in many cases for procuring islanders for the plantations. I am concerned to show that in not a few cases deceit and violence are used in enticing men and lads on board, and in keeping them confined when on board. I don't profess to know much of the treatment of the Islanders _on the plantations_.

"I am very thankful to hear that the Dunedin question is settled at length, and so satisfactorily.

"The synod papers are not yet brought up in our things from the _Southern Cross_. And as I am off (D.V.) to-morrow, and am very busy now, I shall hope to read them quietly on board.

"I must end. Melanesians and English folk are streaming in and out of my room....

"Yours very truly, "J. C. PATTESON."

How the voyage ended is well known. The heavy mallet of one islander at Nukapu gave the brave and saintly bishop instantaneous release from his sufferings; the poisoned arrows of others caused the death, after lingering agony, of two of his companions, the missionary Joseph Atkin and a Melanesian teacher. The bishop's body, as it was found floating down the lagoon, bore five wounds, inflicted doubtless in vengeance for the violent capture of five islanders by the very traffic against which the bishop had sent his protest to the synod.

For nearly six years the Melanesian Mission remained without a bishop, under the faithful leaders.h.i.+p of Dr. Codrington. But Patteson's loss could not be replaced, nor could that of Atkin, who had managed the navigation department. Many years elapsed before the lost ground--especially in the Solomons--could be recovered.

Much good work was done in many of the parishes of New Zealand during the decade of the 'seventies, and Patteson's martyrdom was not fruitless. But, outwardly, the Church continued weak. Wellington had lost Bishop Abraham in 1870, and, in his place, elected Archdeacon Hadfield in recognition of his magnificent services. But the new bishop's health was still precarious, and he failed to acquire amongst the settlers the influence which he had formerly wielded amongst the Maoris. Dunedin was still torn by the party spirit of the Jenner controversy; in Waiapu, Bishop Williams was drawing toward the end of his long and arduous life.

The weakness of the Church was revealed in a sad and startling manner when the Provinces were abolished in 1876. The civil government became centralised, at a time when the ecclesiastical organisation had lost its central unity, and its power of bringing pressure to bear on national legislation. When, in 1877, an Education bill was introduced into parliament, the Church not only found herself outvoted, but was not even represented in any effective way. The only parts of the colony which could take up a strong and consistent position were Nelson and Westland.

In these districts the English Church, under Bishop Suter and Archdeacon Harper, had co-operated with the Roman Catholics and other bodies under their respective leaders, and had carried on an effective and successful system of denominational schools. But nothing like this could be shown elsewhere. Canterbury had renounced church schools in 1873, and had reduced the religious instruction in its provincial schools to a minimum of "history sacred and profane"; Otago and Wellington had retained Bible-reading, but were greatly divided as to the necessity of its continuance; Auckland had compromised with the Roman difficulty by adopting secularism pure and simple.

Three solutions of the "religious difficulty" were thus before the House of Representatives. No reference was made by any of the speakers to the blessings which the Christian religion had conferred upon the country.

The torn and bleeding state of Maori Christianity prevented one side from pointing to it as an example; the other side--if mindful at all of its existence--was too generous to point at it as a warning. Fear of Rome seemed to be the dominating motive with most of the members, but a small secularist minority made itself conspicuous. The Nelson, or denominationalist, system had broken down in the larger settlements through want of good leaders.h.i.+p and generous co-operation; the government scheme of elementary Bible-reading, though more widely favoured, was so feebly advocated that its opponents could with some justice p.r.o.nounce it a "farce"; and finally the secular party won the day by a considerable majority. Nothing was left to the Churches of the land but the opportunity for their ministers to enter the schools, before or after school hours, and to give instruction to such children as might choose to attend.

But the period through which we have been pa.s.sing was not all gloom. In the diocese of Auckland, Bishop Cowie was able to re-open St. John's College, and to place it under the charge of Dr. Kinder. Immigrants were pouring into his diocese to settle upon the confiscated lands, and the bishop set himself to follow them up into the remotest settlements. In small schooners and rough cattle-boats he journeyed round the coast; on bullock-waggons and on horseback he traversed the almost impa.s.sable roads. Thus he made himself the friend of the settlers, and gradually provided them with the ministrations of religion.

In the South Island, Bishop Suter, who was appointed to succeed Bishop Hobhouse in 1866, worked vigorously and successfully in the rough mining settlements of the west coast, as well as among the sheltered valleys around Nelson, and the sheep stations on the eastern coast. In Canterbury, Bishop Harper laboured on with much success, and saw a number of churches built during this decade.

Early in the year 1877 the long interregnum in Melanesia came to its close. Bishop Patteson's death had stirred (among others) John Richardson Selwyn, the great bishop's New Zealand-born son, to offer himself for missionary work. He was too young at the time for the episcopal office, and even when he reached the canonical age his friends were doubtful if his health would bear the strain; but he threw himself with ardour into the work of the mission, and soon came to be regarded as its future head. He was consecrated at Nelson on Feb. 18th, 1877, and soon proved his fitness for the difficult work he had undertaken.

In the previous year, Bishop Williams had just concluded a half-century of devoted and apostolic labour in New Zealand, when he was stricken with paralysis, and shortly afterwards (May 31, 1876) resigned his see.

After a considerable interval, an Indian missionary, Edward Craig Stuart, was elected to succeed him, and was consecrated at Napier in December, 1877. The retiring bishop lived long enough to welcome his successor, but was not able to join in his consecration.

In the following year, George Augustus Selwyn died at Lichfield. He had never ceased to take an interest in New Zealand: in his palace chapel he had put up a memorial window to the heroic Henare Taratoa; he had taken the retired bishops Hobhouse and Abraham as his coadjutors; and, in the hours of unconsciousness which preceded the last breath, he murmured two sayings which seemed to go back to the old days of toil among the Maoris and at St. John's College. One was, "They will come back." The other, "Who's seeing to that work?"

CHAPTER XVII.

THE CHURCH OF TO-DAY.

(1878-1914).

Thus onward still we press, Through evil and through good.

--_H. Bonar._

The earliest stage of church-life in colonial New Zealand may be called the _Eucalyptus_ or Blue Gum period. These dark-foliaged trees mark from afar the lonely sheep-station, and are often the only guide thereto. It is in the station-house or in the adjoining woolshed that the service is held. Seldom is it conducted by an ordained minister, for the number of such is small, and each priest has a large territory to visit. His arrival on horseback is not always known beforehand, but in the evening the "squatter" a.s.sembles his family and dependants, the men of the station, and perhaps a few neighbours. Everyone is glad of the opportunity. The dining-room or woolshed is made to look as devotional as possible. The old prayer books brought out from England are produced.

There may be no musical instrument available, but some well-known hymn is raised by the lady of the house. The priest, in his long surplice, preaches a practical sermon, for he understands his people and knows their lives. The service revives old memories in the wors.h.i.+ppers, and carries them back in thought to ancient churches and devout congregations in the land from which they come.

This early stage merges gradually into what may be called the Pine period. The large sheep run is broken up into farms, each marked by its sheltering plantations of _pinus insignis_. The typical place of wors.h.i.+p is now the school. To it the wors.h.i.+ppers drive on Sunday, in buggies or gigs. The services are carried on with some regularity: different Christian denominations generally use the building on successive Sundays of the month, and the same congregation gathers on each occasion. The arrangements are awkward, the seats are comfortless, but the singing is hearty and the feeling good. Memories of the old land are less vivid: the young men and maidens are mostly native-born. There is not the deep feeling of devotion, nor is there the old sense of the overwhelming importance of divine things. Fewer of the labouring men are present than were seen in the old woolshed services.

Years pa.s.s by, and a village springs up amidst the farms. Small church-buildings rise almost side by side. The attendants of the schoolroom no longer wors.h.i.+p together. It is the Cypress or _Macrocarpa_ period, when trim hedges divide the gardens--and often the people--from one another. But the little church, with its cross and other sacred emblems, grows dear to some. The choir learns to chant and to sing an anthem on a high festival. Perhaps now there is a vicarage beside the church. Cla.s.ses and guilds are carried on. "Church work" begins.

Such is the history of the Church in New Zealand during the latter period of our hundred years. The frame of the picture is that supplied by the originally treeless plains and valleys of the South Island. But the picture itself, in its essential points, would represent other regions as well--whether mining, maritime, or forest. As a picture, it is not as bright as we should like it to be; but its shadows as well as its brightness are but extensions of the phenomena of the religious world outside. The divisions of Christendom did not originate in New Zealand.

With a background furnished by the process just described--a process constant in character, though moving faster or slower according to the variety of local conditions--we may now fill in the foreground of the scene with the few events of the last 34 years, which stand out above the general level of parochial or diocesan life.

The decade of the 'eighties saw no change in the const.i.tution of the episcopal bench. From 1877 to 1890 the bishops remained the same. Bishop Harper pa.s.sed his 80th year, but continued actively at work; after him in order of seniority came Bishops Suter of Nelson, Hadfield of Wellington, Cowie of Auckland, Neville of Dunedin, Selwyn of Melanesia, and Stuart of Waiapu. All worked harmoniously together, the leading personality being perhaps the Bishop of Nelson.

A sign of recovery from the exhaustion of the war-period may be found in the stately churches which now began to rise here and there.

Christchurch Cathedral, after its years of forlorn desolation, rose slowly from its foundations during the later 'seventies, until in 1881 the nave and tower were completed and consecrated. St. Mary's, Timaru, was begun in 1880, and its nave completed six years later. St. John's Cathedral, Napier, was rapidly built and consecrated as a finished building in 1888. Nothing so artistic or so solid as these edifices had yet been seen in the country, and nothing equal to them was produced for many years.

Not only were new churches built: they were filled. A great impetus to devotion was received in 1885 and 1886 from Canons Bodington and G. E.

Mason, who were sent out from Selwyn's old diocese of Lichfield to hold missions in Auckland and Christchurch. These able men spent 10 months in the country, and gave of their best to every place they visited.

In 1889, Bishop Harper gave notice of his intention to resign his primacy, and, in the following year, laid down his pastoral staff. He had reached the age of 86 before his resignation took effect, but his mind was still vigorous, and when relieved of the cares of office he took up the humbler work of giving divinity lessons in a girls' school.

He was pre-eminently a man of peace, but beneath the placid exterior there lay an indomitable will. One who knew him well wrote of him thus: "He left upon me the deep impression that he never had an ideal of power or wealth or fame, but that to go about doing good, and to promote the welfare of his fellow-men with all his strength, were the objects he had in view in his whole life."

This resignation was destined to bring about a const.i.tutional difficulty which recalled the trying days of the Jenner incident. The question which divided the Church was nothing less than this, Who is the legitimate primate or chief pastor of New Zealand?

Dunedin, curiously enough, was again the point from which the trouble emanated, and a Selwyn was again the person who unintentionally brought it about. Bishop Harper announced his intention to resign the primacy to a general synod at Dunedin in February, 1889. At the close of the session he called for an election of a bishop to take his place as primate in six months' time. The first and the second ballots were inconclusive. Had the third ballot yielded a similar result, the primacy would have gone, according to the canons, to the senior bishop.

The Bishop of Nelson was the senior by consecration, though not by age, and he received a large majority of lay votes. But the clergy did not think him "safe," and gave their votes preponderantly to the veteran Hadfield. Before the final ballot, the Bishop of Melanesia broke the silence enjoined on such occasions, and urged the laity "not to let the election go by default." His advocacy was successful, and at the third ballot the Bishop of Wellington, having received a majority of all orders, was declared by the old primate to be duly elected to fill his place.

But this decision did not remain long uncontested. From a strictly legal point of view, the proceedings were invalidated by the fact that the canons gave no authority for an election until the primatial seat was actually vacant. This technical objection was rendered more cogent by Bishop John Selwyn's impulsive act. His speech was undoubtedly a breach of the law, and undoubtedly also it turned the election.