“I don’t think I ever quite felt till now, what you have been to me for many a long year,”
but he went on to say:
“It is perfectly clear to my mind that you could not have done otherwise. I don’t grudge you to the mother Church one atom.”
In his address to the Synod, Selwyn dwelt upon the advantages of the independent position of the Church. “I earnestly entreat you as one who has seen the work of the Church on both sides of the world, hold fast to your voluntary compact: make it as perfect as you can: seek for Communion with all branches of our Anglican Church now scattered over the world: aim at one common standard of faith and ritual in all essential points, treasure up the memory of all the blessings and privileges which we have inherited from our Holy Mother, that it may be seen that by none is she more honoured and beloved than by the most distant of her children.” The address which was presented to him by the Synod shows how he was regarded. It is only possible to quote some sentences from it. “It seems as if you had been sent first to warn the most distant members here, and were called now to quicken the very heart of our dear mother Church at home, so that the life blood may circulate with fresh vigour throughout the body. How can we ever forget you? Every spot in New Zealand is identified with you. Each hill and valley, each river and bay and headland is full of memories of you; the busy town, the lonely settlers’ hut, the countless islands of the sea, all speak to us of you.”
An address from the Maoris in the Waimate was brought to him by their own Maori Priest which said:
“Sire our thought with regard to you is that you are like the poor man’s lamb, taken away by the rich man.... Go, Sire, we shall no more see each other in the body, but we shall see one another in our thoughts. However we are led and protected and sanctified by the same Spirit.... This is our lament for you in a few words:
Love to our friend who has disappeared abruptly from the ranks!
Is he a small man that he was so beloved?
He has not his equal among the many.
The food he dispensed is longed for by me.”
The general Maori address said:
“You leave here these two peoples—the Maoris and the Europeans.... Go to your own country; go, the grace of God accompany you. Go on the face of the deep waters. Father take hence with you the commandments of God leaving the peoples here bewildered. Who can tell that after your departure things will be as well with us as during your stay in this island. Our love for you and our remembrance of you will never cease ...”
Selwyn left New Zealand full of hope for its future, confident that the Maori Church would revive and that “The remnant is taking root downwards and bearing fruit upwards.” He exhorted his Synod not to forget that remnant of the faithful Christian Maoris, saying that no increase of European population should make them “forget that it is still a remnant in the great congregation of Christ.” His departure from Auckland was a sort of triumph. All shops were shut, and he and Mrs. Selwyn, who was raised up aloft in a high seat, were dragged by four horses to the pier in a brilliantly coloured triumphal car, amidst the hurrahs of the excited people, the Bishop stretching out his hand for a last shake as he passed through them.
The pain of parting did not prevent him from looking on with eagerness to the work which lay before him. At Sydney he wrote to his dear friend, Judge Martin, and told how he had watched for the last time the familiar landmarks of the coast as he passed them, adding: