Life of John Coleridge Patteson : Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian IslandsYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Religion
Life of John Coleridge Patteson : Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian Islands
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Missions -- Melanesia; Patteson, John Coleridge, 1827-1871
'Sunday, July 28th, 11.45 A.M.--I have much anxiety just now. At this
moment Wadrokala is in an ague fit, five or six others of my party kept
going by quinine and port wine, and one or other sickening almost daily.
Henry Hrahuena, of Lifu, I think dying, from what I know not--I think
inflammation of the brain, induced possibly by exposure to the sun,
though I have not seen him so exposed, and it is a thing I am very
careful about with them. I do what I can in following the directions of
medical books, but it is so hard to get a word from a native to explain
symptoms, &c.; besides, my ear is now, like last year, really painful;
and for two nights I have had little sleep, and feel stupid, and getting
a worn-out feeling. With all this, I am conscious that it is but a
temporary depression, a day or two may bring out the bright colours
again. Henry may recover by God's mercy, the boys become hearty again;
my ear get right. At present I feel that I must rub on as I can, from
hour to hour.
'If I find from experience that natives of Melanesia, taken to a
different island, however fertile, dry, and apparently healthy, do seem
to be affected by it, I must modify my plans, try as soon as possible
to have more winter schools, and, what is of more consequence, I must
reconsider the whole question of native teachers. If a great amount
of sickness is to be the result of gathering scholars around me at an
island, I could do, perhaps, more single-handed, in health, and with
no one to look after, than with twenty fellows of whom half are causing
continual anxiety on the score of health. Now were I alone, I should
be as brisk as a bee, but I feel weighed down somewhat with the anxiety
about all these fellows about me.
'I must balance considerations, and think it out. It requires great
attention. It is at times like these that I experience some trials.
Usually my life is, as you know, singularly free from them.
'July 31st.--Henry died on Sunday about 4 A.M. Wadrokala is better.
The boys are all better. I have had much real pain and weariness from
sleepless nights, owing to the small tumour in my ear. What a sheet of
paper for you to read! And yet it is not so sad either. The boys were
patient and good; Wadrokala takes his ague attacks like a man; and about
Henry I had great comfort.
'He was about eighteen or nineteen, as I suppose, the son of the great
enchanter in Lifu in old times--the hereditary high priest of Lifu
indeed. He was a simple-minded, gentle, good fellow, not one probably
who would have been able to take a distinct line as a teacher, yet
he might have done good service with a good teacher. We found that
afternoon a slate on which he had written down some thoughts when first
taken ill, showing that he felt that he was sick unto death. Very full
of comfort were his written as well as his spoken words.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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