G. A. Selwyn, D.D.: Bishop of New Zealand and Lichfield

by Louise Creighton

The discovery of gold in the Southern Island had brought such a rush of new settlers that it seemed necessary to divide the Diocese of Christchurch and form a new Diocese of Dunedin. All were agreed about this, but unfortunately a controversy arose as to the actual appointment of the new Bishop. Selwyn, eager to see someone appointed as quickly as possible, wrote to the Archbishop of Canterbury, with more definiteness than the Rural Deanery Board at Dunedin was prepared for. The Archbishop with unexpected promptitude, appointed and consecrated Dr. Jenner, Bishop of Dunedin, but the Rural Deanery were not prepared for this, they said that the necessary money had not yet been collected and refused to recognise the appointment. This unfortunate incident shows the difficulties that lay in the way of the Colonial Church, and its relations with the Home Church in the early days, before experience had regulated the situation. During the period of delay, Selwyn went himself to Dunedin to try to promote the raising of the money needed. In this way he saw the goldfields and was able to judge of their needs. He wrote from there (1866) describing the hurry of the life, where everything had to be improvised to meet the rush of new arrivals eager for gold. “The traffic seems to go on Sundays and week-days alike, and a Scotchman whom I invited in vain to church, admitted that all the lessons of the old country were forgotten on the road.... Upon the whole as the thing had to be done I am not sorry to have had to go over this province. Part of my object is to visit as many of the diggers as I can and to hold services wherever I find them disposed to attend. There was a large party of them on board who assured me that it was a mistake to suppose that there were not many among them who cared for better things than digging gold. They have the character of being a manly and independent body of men, for the most part orderly and honest. It is a comfort to think that this is the last work of bishop-making in which it will be necessary for me to engage; and when this is done I may break my wand.” It is not necessary to follow the long controversy over the filling of the See of Dunedin, since after this the matter did not really concern Bishop Selwyn. It was not till 1871 that the difficulty was settled and a Bishop appointed.

Writing to E. Coleridge at the end of 1865, Bishop Selwyn had said: “I do not see my way to another visit to England. It is more congenial to my present feelings to sit among my own ruins, not moping, but tracing out the outlines of a new foundation, than to go through another course of public life in England. So much has been said or written of late about my order that I have begun to think it will be well for us to be more sparing of our visits.” When, however, he received a summons from the Archbishop of Canterbury to attend the first conference of Bishops of the Anglican Communion, which was to be held at Lambeth in 1867, he felt bound to go. He had always regarded it as a duty to obey the orders of a superior in the service to which he had given his life, and his desire for the general restoration of synodical government in the Church, made him consider the proposed Lambeth Conference as of supreme importance. He left his work in New Zealand with deep regret and there was much sorrow amongst his people at parting with him even for a time, increased by a lurking fear that he might never return. Before he left, his friends met in the little Chapel at Auckland for a last Communion together. There were seventy communicants too many for the chapel to hold and they overflowed into the study behind. One who was there writes:

“I doubt if there was a single dry eye in the chapel; and the Bishop’s voice at times was scarcely audible, for the sobs which were heard on every hand.”

It was a disappointment to Selwyn to find on reaching England how little interest was shown in the Lambeth Conference, how few even of the clergy realized its importance. He wrote:

“From our distant point of view we look upon this Conference as the most important opening for good which has ever been offered to our Anglican Church; but I have not yet seen any signs to lead me to believe that it is so considered here. I have invitations to meetings of all kinds up to the very day of the meeting, and the clergymen who write to me do not seem to be aware that I came to England for one object and that I am prepared to devote all my time and attention to that, and that therefore I must be free in mind and time to prepare for it beforehand, and, after the meeting is over to work up its results.”

At the Conference he was described as “well nigh the most conspicuous figure and certainly the most attractive spirit there.” Mrs. Selwyn writes that he came back from the meetings “sometimes quite happy, and sometimes quite desponding, the precious time being so frittered away.” He was distressed at “the want of previous arrangement, at the lack of all formality or of anything to give dignity in the eyes of the public or honour to the brethren.” After the Lambeth Conference, he went to the Wolverhampton Church Congress. There he had the support of other Bishops from overseas in claiming that the Church in the Colonies should have the right to manage its own affairs. He himself spoke on Missions “doubtful how he could concentrate the lifetime of twenty-five years into twenty-five minutes.” He did express the spirit in which he had worked when he said: “I do not know what failure means.” He ended with an earnest appeal for unity, the appeal which comes with ever growing force to the Church at home from the mission field, and which again and again falls on deaf ears:

“The best assistance you can give to us in our missionary work is to be united amongst yourselves.... I have learned in that great Pacific, on which my islands lie like little gems, to pray for the grace of God to distil from the great ocean of the Catholic Church this essential salt of unity, and with that salt to season all sacrifices, whether prayer, praise or almsgiving, and whether at home or abroad may that sacrifice be acceptable to God.”

Shortly after the Wolverhampton Congress, the Bishop of Lichfield died and Lord Derby asked Selwyn to be his successor. Selwyn answered immediately that after having taken counsel with no one but God in prayer: “I have been led to the conclusion that it is my duty to return to New Zealand (1) Because the native race to whose service I was first called, requires all the effort of the few friends that remain to them; (2) Because the organization of the Church in New Zealand is still incomplete; (3) Because I have still so far as I can judge, health and strength for the peculiar duties which habit has made familiar to me; (4) Because my bishopric is not endowed with more than £80 per annum and I have no reason to expect that the C.M.S. will continue their annual grant of £400 to my successor.” These were the chief reasons he gave to Lord Derby and he ended his letter with these words: “I could work with all my heart in the ‘black country’ if it were not that my heart is in New Zealand.”

The matter was not allowed to rest there. The Archbishop of Canterbury wrote to Selwyn asking him to reconsider his decision. The Queen sent for him and expressed her wish that he would accept the bishopric. Selwyn then wrote to the Archbishop:

“I had no other reason for going (to New Zealand) than because I was sent. Upon this question of obedience I am still of the same mind. I am a man under authority.... As a soldier of the Church I shall probably feel bound to do whatever my commander-in-chief bids me.”