Amongst the Bishop’s difficulties were his relations with the Church Missionary Society. Whilst full of admiration for the work of their missionaries, he would not ordain the laymen among them except on the condition that he decided the sphere of their work. As the Society refused to accept this condition, the Bishop would not ordain the catechists in their missions. He also refused to ordain any as priests who had not attained a certain standard of learning, and he waited to ordain any native till he considered him sufficiently educated. In all these matters, the Society had a different policy. They were accustomed to control their own missions from home and were not inclined to give way to a Bishop who had only come out after the missions had been well established. These and other difficulties and misunderstandings led to the refusal of the Society to rent permanently to the Bishop the wooden buildings at the Waimate, where he had set up his College. As he could not stay at the Waimate Selwyn determined to move at once to Auckland which he had always intended to be the Episcopal See. When the Maoris in the Waimate district heard of his intended removal, there was much disturbance. Lady Martin describes the scene that followed. It was on what was called market day, when the Maoris brought their wares for sale, and before the traffic began there was school and cathechising in the chapel after morning prayers. “The people had heard a rumour of the Bishop’s intention to remove to Auckland, and there was a great deal of speech-making on the subject. A powerful speaker opened the debate. The orator began by trotting slowly up and down a given space, always beginning and ending each sentence with his run to and fro. After a while he got warmed up and excited, and then he rushed backwards and forwards, he leaped up off the ground, he slapped his thigh, shouted, waved his spear.” It seemed more as if he were breathing out death and destruction than as if he were urging the Bishop to stay among his people. “It was very amusing to see the two brothers Williams stand up and answer them. Archdeacon Henry Williams, a stout, old-fashioned looking clergyman with broad-brimmed hat and spectacles, marched up and down with a spear in his hand, and elicited shouts of applause. Then his brother drew a large space on the gravel, and divided it into three parts, and asked whether it was not fair that the Bishop should live in the middle of the diocese instead of at either end. There was a loud murmur of voices, ‘It is just,’ but all the same they did not like to lose him and his large party from among them.”