BISHOP SELWYN.*

THE opening pages of Mr. How's memoir of Bishop John Selwyn carry us back to an incident in the life of John

Selwyn's father, the first Bishop of New Zealand. At mid- night on October 1st, 1849, Mrs. (George) Selwyn was awakened from sleep by hearing her husband's voice "exultingly exclaiming 'I've got them.' " The Bishop had just returned from a cruise among his islands, and he brought with him "five little savage boys, the first of many who were brought to be educated, and to form in time a native clergy for Melanesia." These five little savages became the play- mates and fast friends of little John Selwyn, born five years before at the Mission headquarters in the Northern part of New Zealand. And in all probability his early association in play and school with these children contributed something to the ease and influence of his intercourse with Melanesian natives in after years. But no precocious determination to become a missionary is recorded of the boy. All that his biographer finds to tell of his childish years is that he was fond of fishing among the rocks of Taurarua ; that he had a passion for historical ballads and was con- temptuous about the boys at St. John's College, Auckland, because they did not know "Chevy Chase " ; and that he was devoted to his mother with an intimacy and tenderness of attachment that lasted through life. He wrote to her in 1881 :—" My manhood does not cling to you a whit less than my infancy did, and I lean on you just as lovingly now with all the force of reason and love as I did by instinct when I first lay in your arms as a little child." Of the Bishop, his father, his early recollections were slight :—

" My boyhood, alas ! can remember little of my father. I can remember him suddenly appearing in the middle of the night fresh from one of those voyages which laid, with so much daring and so much forethought, the foundations of the Melanesian Mission. I can recall the dingy cabin of the little schooner, creaking and groaning in a gale of wind off the coast of New Zealand, and a figure in wet and shiny oilskins coming down from the long watch on deck to see how my mother and I were faring below."

When he was ten years old, he was brought to England and put to Eton. Mr. How, in describing John Selwyn's character, speaks of him as having combined some feminine qualities with the manly ones that were more salient charac- teristics of his individuality, and he quotes his mother's saying that he was to her "exactly like a son and a daughter." He was affectionate and unselfish, energetic and quick- tempered, and had through life a gracious habit of making prompt, careful, and generous amends to anybody whom he had hurt by quick or angry speech. The story at the end of the book of his seeking out a cabman, to apologise to him, is an excellent illustration of this trait in his character. But as is generally the case with this kind of wholesome all-round character and lively disposition disciplined by Christian prin- ciple, the anecdotes of John Selwyn show him to have been very much the same person all through life, always cheerful and unselfish, enjoying life himself and promoting the enjoy- ment of others. Of good principles carefully cultivated by his parents, and an early unaffected habit of prayer and " recollection," there is also testimony from his earliest days. Altogether, he belongs to the class of men of whom it is difficult to give an adequate sketch that shall do justice to their goodness and spirituality, without outraging the spirit of that modesty in which lies the secret of their attraction and in- fluence. Some interesting extracts from a paper contributed by an old schoolfellow, Mr. R. A. Binglake, give a. good picture of him as a boy at Eton, and a glimpse of his life at Cambridge :—

" My first meeting with John Richardson Selwyn was at John Hawtrey's, where we were together for about a year, Selwyn being at this time eleven years of age. John Hawtrey, a nephew of the Provost, was a Lower School Master. He took none but little boys, and as soon as they got into the fourth form they migrated to other houses. Selwyn went to Coleridge's, while I went to Evans'. Coleridge, who was then Lower Master, was soon after elected to a College fellowship, and Selwyn therefore became a pupil of the Rev. E. Balaton, who was also my tutor, and he came across the road from Coleridge's to Wm. Evans', where he and I struck up a friendship which was only severed by death Selwyn took to football and rowing, and was one of the best long behinds' at football I ever knew. Cool and calm at the moment of danger, never flurried, the house had a perfect Bishop John Selwyn: a Memoir. Br F. D. how. London : IsbIster and Co. Lis. O.) defender for their goals, and with him as captain Evans' won the football challenge cup, and became 'cocks of college.' Selwyn, I think, played in the house cricket eleven. He rowed three in the house four, the remaining members of the e:ew being myself, S. E. Hicks, and the Rev. J. Turner. About this time he and I took up pair-oar rowing. together, and we won the ' Pulling' with great ease. . . . . . Selwyn stood so high in foot- ball choices' that he might have been either captain of the field eleven, or captain of the Wall; which was considered a better position. I was next to him in the Wall choices,' and stood low in the field, so, for the honour of the dear old house, and thinking I should like to be captain of the ' Wall,' he accepted the captaincy of the field eleven, and I took the Wail,' an act which was greatly appreciated by the boys in the house. He was a great favourite with the Head Master, Dr. Balston, who

knew he had a boy of strong will and character at the top of the school, and one who would set an example of good to the younger and weaker boys, and he felt he could rely always on him if be wanted his aid When Selwyn went to Trinity he ' kept' in Malcolm Street, and, as he preferred the freedom of lodgings, he remained there during the whole of his University career, and never had rooms in college. He rowed twice in the University crew (1864 and 1866)."

His holidays were spent at Ely, where one of his uncles was a Canon, and his aunt, Mrs. Peacocke (now Mrs. Thompson), was the Dean's wife. Neither at Eton nor Cambridge was he particularly studious, a defect that he regretted afterwards. When the question of his election to the bishopric of Melanesia was pending, he counted his want of learning as one of his disqualifications, and wrote of it to his father :-

" I wish, how I wish, I could have one good walk with you to talk it all over! And the first thing I would tell you would be my sorrow for opportunities missed. What would I not give for your habits of application, and for the learning which your care provided for me, but my thoughtlessness threw aside. I am always seeking it now, but the evil habit of desultori- ness fights sadly against it."

At Eton and Cambridge he was understood to be preparing for the law, and in 1864, at the time of his elder brother's ordination, we find him comparing the two lives of the young clergyman and the young lawyer :- " The great thing with us now is Willie's ordination. He is regularly started, and I hope I shall get as good a one. [Care. lessnesses of style were habitual with him through life.] I think a young clergyman's life and a young lawyer's are about as widely different as anything can be, though I suppose both have their own temptations, especially the latter. I think I shall try when I am in London to get lodgings a little way out in the country, and then one will be out of the eternal din ; and besides it is very much better to put oneself out of the reach of temptation, as they say that men who have been working all day feel so inclined to knock about at night. However, you shall have my experiences when I have arrived at that state. At present I am only a Cambridge undergraduate who is not very likely to floor the Classical Tripos unless he works very hard, which, what with boat-races, Prince of Wales coming to Cambridge, &c., does not seem very easy."

He did succeed in flooring the Classical Tripos, came out in the third class in 1866, and then went to New Zealand on a visit to his parents. It was during this visit that his mind definitely bent itself to the missionary life. He went on a six weeks' cruise among the islands with the Bishop, fell in love with the spirit and adventure of the life, conceived a deep admiration for his father's powers and devotion, and came home to England in the following year resolved to take Holy Orders with a view to helping his father in the missionary work, " not for his father's sake only, but for the work's sake." His parents had travelled to England with him, the Bishop being summoned to attend the first Lambeth Conference. Before the end of the year his father had accepted the bishopric of Lichfield, and there was only occasion for a hurried farewell visit to New Zealand before settling into work in the new sphere. John Selwyn acted as his father's secretary while preparing for ordination, then spent a year as curate of Alrewas, a parish in the diocese of Lichfield, and another year first as curate and afterwards as vicar of St. George's, Wolverhampton. Then came the death of Bishop Patteson, and a need of first-rate men to carry on the Melanesian Mission, and Selwyn and his friend and curate, Mr. Still, volunteered. They went out in 1673. It was matter of rejoicing to Selwyn himself, and also to his parents, that he was too young—only nine-and-twenty—to be then thought of practically for the bishopric, although by many of his friends he was already marked as the man for the post. He was himself eager that the tradi- tion of sending out Etonians should be carried on, and Patteson's example and Patteson's influence worked strongly with him in his first dedication of himself and in all his after career. A great humility, which made. him always doubtful

of his personal qualifications, led him to cherish with pious superstition every link in the chain of circumstance that made him the successor of Patteson. When a friend wrote to him that some passages in Patteson's Life read like a sort of prophecy of his own going out, his reply was :—" Did you notice a letter to his uncle, Edward Coleridge, in which he says that there must be some young fellows rowing up to Surly that night who ought to be able to help ? Curiously enough, I was rowing that evening."

Mr. How expressly disclaims in his preface the intention of writing the history of the Melanesian Mission under Bishop Selwyn, and he mentions that that work had already been undertaken by another hand while he was engaged upon this biographical sketch. To the general reader this disclaimer will probably be a recommendation to the book. The Lives of

John Selwyn's father and of Bishop Patteson have already familiarised the public with the general features of the life and work of these cruising missionary Bishops. And, in-

exhaustible as is, in one sense, the charm of biographies like these in which the spirit of adventure and the spirit of Christianity are so intimately and delightfully combined, yet the charm is better felt when it is not overlaid with a multi- tude of details having a considerable monotony of character.

Quite enough of anecdote and incident is given us by Mr. How to make us realise the devotion and self-sacrifice of Bishop Selwyn's life, and not so much but that the book is quite easy and enjoyable reading. Summarising the causes of Selwyn's success, he says :-

"There was first the complete and generous self-surrender without which the rest would have availed little. [This comes out in every detail of his life from the day when he offered him- self to Melanesia under the influence of the death of Bishop Patteson.] Then there was his power of inspiring the natives with an absolute trust in him. To this he paid great attention, taking infinite care to carry out his smallest promise. Thus, if he had, when leaving a place, said that he would call there on his way back, nothing prevented him doing so. The winds might be adverse, and many days' delay might be incurred : there might be no special reason for going except that he had said he would do so ; but he considered it well worth while in order that the natives might know that what he said, that he did. Another element in his success was his carefulness about details."

And yet another, very closely connected with the essentials of his character, was what he called his " pluck in unknown languages." It was said of him that as soon as he " knew twenty words of Mota, he preached a sermon and made him- self understood."

Among the reasons why he should not be made Bishop of Melanesia which he gave to his father while the question of his election was still open was his sense that he had not succeeded in getting a satisfactory hold upon the native boys- Possibly the following incident may have had something to do with this doubt. If so, the conclusion of the story throws an encouraging light upon such experiences and consequent self-disparagements :— " There was a boy at Norfolk Island who had been brought from one of the rougher and wilder islands, and was con- sequently rebellious and difficult to manage. One day Mr. Selwyn (it was before his consecration) spoke to him about something he had refused to do, and the lad, flying into a passion, struck him in the face. This was an unheard-of thing for a Melanesian to do. Mr. Selwyn, not trusting him- self to speak, turned on his heel and walked away. The boy was punished for the offence, and, being still unsatisfactory, was sent back to his own island without being baptise', and there relapsed into heathen ways. Many years afterwards Mr. Bice, the missionary who worked on that island, was sent for to a sick person who wanted him. He found this very man in a dying state, and begging to be baptised. He told Mr. Bice how often he thought of the teaching on Norfolk Island, and, when the latter asked him by what name he should baptise him, he said ' Call me John Selwyn, because he taught me what Christ was like that day when I struck him.'" A pleasant story falling into the same connection of ideas is that of the needy Norfolk Island boys who, after a strenu- ous Advent sermon urging the duty of giving and doing

something to help "to prepare the way of the Lord," collected among themselves a pocket-handkercbiefful of silver, and begged that it might be used to help white people at home. Among more romantic and adventurous incidents, illustrating the Bishop's statesmanship, the affair of the Gaieta murder and his successful intervention stands out luminously. Justice had to be done upon a district of Florida for the murder of a boat's crew of white men. A gunboat was sent down to do the work. But the Bishop offered to go alone and demand the surrender of the murderers. The enterprise was sufficiently dangerous to have called forth a solemn fare- well letter to his mother, written on the eve of his landing. In a later letter he described the interview with the chief and the successful results ; and other letters give gruesome details.

Like most of us, he was exercised by the difficulty of carrying out Christian principles without outraging common- sense and doing harm to the neighbour in whose interest self is sacrificed :—

",What a bore self is ! I am always debating about things. How far one is bound to consider oneself,—e.g., one takes one's waterproof sheet and a plaid, and hears one of one's small boys shivering next door. Ought one without hesitation to give him

the sheet ? One is always having St. Martin-of-Tours sort of questions, and I am afraid I do not answer them in his way."

As a matter of fact, he considered himself very little, and everybody else very much. In his first curacy he very nearly offended country neighbours by the persistency with which he refused their invitations to dinner. It came out, after be left the place, that his reason for not dining out was that he used to go night and morning to carry a paralytic poor parishioner up and down stairs, and he would make no engage- ment that interfered with this labour of kindness. He could, however, rebuke selfishness in others on occasion. The begging habits of the natives distressed him :-

" All these people are such beggars. They are so to one another' and they carry it out fully to strangers. Everybody who comes to you is only thinking what he can get. 'Bishop, this is some- body's brother," Bishop, this is the uncle of a boy at Norfolk Island,' 4i.c The chiefs are worst of all. I went at the man here the other day. 'Lila,' said I, 'you went up in my vessel to Norfolk Island the other day, did you not ? and you stayed at Norfolk Island, did you not ? and you came back again, and you had presents there ; how much food had you to buy on board ?' He said, None.' Then said I, I have been in your country for a fortnight and you have not sent me a single yam, but have begged everything you could. Is that like a chief ? I do not care, I can buy all I want ; but chiefs ought to behave as such.'" The break-up of his health, beginning in 1888, necessitated a journey home for rest. He came to England in June, 1889, got rid of the bronchitis which was then his most definite and important ailment, and after six months went back to Norfolk Island. But new health troubles began in the autumn of the next year, and the records of his last cruise among the islands are full of most touching particulars of his heroic struggle to work on and care for others in spite of great suffering. His

final return to England was accomplished in September, 1891. Pains that he had attributed to rheumatism had been found to be caused by a terrible abcess in his thigh, necessitating a series of severe operations which utterly crippled him. He was told that he would never be able to climb a ship's aide again. Resignation of his post was inevitable. Two years later the offer of the Mastership of Selwyn College came to him, and he accepted it with a mixture of reluctance, gratifi- cation, and amusement at what seemed to him the incongruity between his character and habits and the position of a Don.

He justified the appointment, and held the post till his death in February, 1898.