WELLINGTON SYNOD SKETCHES.

Colonist, Volume II, Issue 157, 22 April 1859, Page 2

WELLINGTON SYNOD SKETCHES.

( From the Otago Colonist.) One of the pleasantest speakers of the Sydnod is Hall, a "lay brother" from Canterbury. He is also a member of the House of Representatives; and the only fault which his opponents there could find with 'him was-»-sc that he looked so doosid young." This defect he has latterly endeavored to obviate by the assiduous cultivation of his whiskers; and, I am happy to add, with marked success.. Goodlooking, gentlemanlike, a practical debater, an excellent official, Hall would take high rank in New Zealand, had he not unfortunately been infected with the Lyttleton "lues dubitandi." There are but three things certain in the Canterbury creed—the Scab, the Land Fund, and the Bishop. Hall never went to an extreme in his life, excepting when he joined the Fox ministry—«• since which evil day the burthen of his consciencestricken song has been—" Que diable allaisjefaire dans cstte ffalere P" Now let us look at Alabaster—commonly called Albatross—also one of the Christchurch representatives. His personal appearance is best described by the following anecdote :—On first landing in Wellington, he proceeded with a large party of brother'parsons to a lodging house. The landlady appeared, and the terms inquired; whereupon slie —'having carefully "reckoned up" the party—replied, " Well, gentlemen, we usually charge forty shillings per week ; but I think," looking keenly at Alabaster, " I think we can put that small gent in at thirty-five." Whether the " small gent" in question is consequently now being done at thirtyfive, this deponent sayeth not positively; but he certainly looks as if he were. His voice is somewhat thin, but clear. He is a fluent and emphatic speaker—argues lucidly, and puts the point well home, frequently to the great disgust and discomfiture of the mighty George Augustus. Should Selwyn go off in a fit during the present session, there will inevitably be a, verdict against Alabaster for " Justifiable Episcopicide." Behold! hush! tremble!.for now ariseth the mighty George Augustus Selwyn, President of the Synod, Metropolitan Bishop of New Zealand, Melanesia, and goodness only knows what parts of the earth besides. He is certainly a man of majestic presence ; tall, keen-eyed, features handsome, but somewhat too rigid; and with a chin marvellously expressive of that which all know to be the prominent trait in his character—that which his friends call firmness, and bis" opponents obstinacy. A perfect master of all oraioricaFarts arid graces, and possessing great command of language, he is never at a loss for a word, though often for an argument. Intensely Tractarian, of course, he evidently considers himself a sort of Anglican Pope, born to control everything near him—except his own temper. Altogether, he might sit for the portrait of a Grand Inquisitor. Argument, he seldom condescends to use; bufc as a putter down he is perfect. If the reasonings of an opponent be difficult to combat, the presumptuous individual is crushed by the observation that "it is beneath the dignity of his office to notice him." Alabaster has delicately hinted at the possibility of future Bishops, at some distant period, becoming intolerant of the freedom of speech claimed by the inferior clergy in their capacity as members of the Synod. Thereupon the anger of George Augustus hath waxed hot against Alabaster, and the vials of episcopal wrath are emptied on his devoted head. Selwyn rises, looking as if he were about to open the seventh seal, and solemnly asserts the divine right of bishops—especially of Metropolitans—to snub their curates and chaplains whenever and wherever they please. Moreover he regrets to see a young clergyman disgracing himself by attempting to curry popularity through an attack on the said bishops. He could say more, but it would be beneath the dignity of his office. His lucid reasoning at once convincing the Synod that freedom of speech is amply secured to the inferior clergy, they leave the wretched Albatross to his fate, and proceed to the orders of the day. Now rises to speak the Venerable Archdeacon Williams—with the wisest head, the ablest judgment, and the kindest heart in the Synod. Calm, clear, and determined, his speech is like oil upon the troubled waters : even Selwyn bows with involuntary deference to one who is worthier than himself. That, pure and holy Christian charity, that blesseth him that gives and him that takes, sheds its kindly influence over each word that he utters. He will not, like the Tractarian bigot, declare his fellow Protestants doomed to eternal anguish, for worshipping the same God as himself with a different ritual, while in his heart he truckles to Rome. He will rather rejoice that there is still some ground on which Christians of different eects can stand together; nor will.he ever fail to hold out a helping hand to an erring brother. The father of the Missions of the Church of England in New Zealand, he has more influ.ence among the native tribes than any ecclesiastic in the colony; nor has lie''ever used that influence save for the good both of Europeans and # natives. It was hoped that he would have been Bishop of Wellington ; but he is no Puseyite—the indispensable qualification for Selwyn's nominees. However, he will shortly be consecrated Bishop of Waitemata ; and no prelate in the colony will so become his high office. Behind the Archdeacon sit the Rev. Samuel Williams, of Te Aute, Napier, and his. brother Henry. The former has spent nearly all his life inNew Zealand—is extremely popular both with Maories and Europeans—and bears a higher reputation for frankness, truth, and honesty, than almost any missionary minister in the province. Both have small, keen, dark eyes; and Henry rejoiceth in a vast beard. I am told that these gentlemen are shining lights in select committees ; but they certainly keep their candle under a bushel in-public, for their voices are seldom heard. That wee man in the corner of the sofa, nearly hidden by Mr. Williams' beard, is Henry St. HilJ, supposed to be the most successful professor of the artofko-too in New Zealand. He dresses after the manner of Tittlebat Titmouse, in "Ten Thousand a Year "—-shining little bell-topper, tiny blue surtout, with white handkerchief peeping out of outside breast-pocket, tight trousers, and natty boots. Having, like most little men, a marvellous notion of his own importance, he occasionally addresses to the Synod a few sentences, spoken with singular gravity, and with equally singular grammar. He is commonly called the Parson's Pet; and it is said was once caught sitting on Selwyn's knee, like a monkey/ This report, however, requires confirmation. Yonder happy-looking, white-haired old gentleman in the brown surtout, with one eye shut, and a shrewd twinkle in the other, is Mr. Bartoa,

member for the Hutt.. He lias sundry sheep-runs in the Wairarapa, and much land at the Kutt. A staunch supporter of the Church of England, he takes a deep interest in all theological questions; and is probably at present engaged in calculating the net-profits of his last year's clip of wool. - That small, sallow, sharp-featured man, in the tightly-buttoned- coat and comprehensive white .choker, who has just " risen to say a few words" for the fifteenth time this afternoon, is the Rev. Mr. Bagshaw, whose " cacoethes hqusndi" has rendered him an object of holy horror to all his colleagues, both lay and clerical. He is looking sad just now, doubtless mourning over the decadence of hierarchical power, for yesterday he moved that a .committee of clergy should form a selection of spiritual songs, the use of which should be compulsory throughout New Zealand ; excluding the laity from this committee, on the ground that their dnty was simply to sing whatever the clergy condescended to set before them. Thereupon the lay members have manfully contended for the Protestant right of privale judgment in musical .matters'; and Bagshaw's Singing Bill .hath consequently come to grief. Next comes Mr. Ilobbouse, the Bishop of Nelson. Arrayed in shining broadcloth and spotless linen, with iiis'head gracefully inclined towards his right shoulder, and carefully curled as to his hair and whiskers, with white hands duly ringed, and welltrimmed nail' 1, lie appears the very model of a large pet parson from the Tractarian districts. Moreover his speech bewrayoth him. He has evidently been a chorister in his youth, for he intones everything, sermons and speeches included. Intoning, I may here mention, consists in a skilful modulation of the human voice—whereby it is made to imitate, in cheerful alternation, the drone of a bag-pipe.and -the-whine of an injured dog. Bishop Hobhouse appears to have carried this art to the highest perfection ; for it is at first difficult to believe that the sounds which he produces are not derived from the two sources above mentioned. Tractarians, I am told, consider that, the sound of intoning is productive of singularly pleasing results in a religious point of view: but with ordinary Christians the effect is at first somniferous in the extreme; and ultimately terminates in a slight disturbance of the digestive organs. Experto crede. This peculiar style of speech also renders it difficult to distinguish the words of the speaker, and the arguments sought to "be conveyed by them are consequently somewhat unintelligible. Bishop Hobhoiise has not hitherto created any very surprising sensation in Wellington. Perhaps the best specimen of an episcopal dignir tary in the Synod is the Bishnp of Christchurch. With a singularly gentleman-like and pleasing addres3—with clear blue eyes, that meet yonrs frankly and kindly—with' a pleasant, kindly smile, he is a plain, unaffected, but most earnest arid emphatic speaker, distinguished chiefly by shrewd strong sense, and somewhat more comprehensive ideas on the subject of Christian charity than distinguish his brethren of Melanesia and Nelson. Canterbury lias really some reason for her belief in her bishop. That small, delicate-looking Archdeacon, with straight short hair standing on end, apparently in horror at Selwyn's wrath against Alabaster, is Browne, Archdeacon of Tauranga. Beneath a broad, intellectual brow, are a pair of rather small but determined-looking eyes, and quaint, delicate features —with, an expression about the little mouth strongly suggestive of a decided tendency to appreciate a bit of fun thoroughly. 'Heches not often speak, but when he does, his remarks are brief, frank, and straight to the point. Next to him sits the Rev. Richard Taylor, from Wauganui. With venerable grey hair, and a marvellously sweet smile, he would appear a perfect incarnation of benevolence, were it not for a certain keen twinkling about the eyes. Outside the Synod Chamber he bears a high reputation for acuteness, combined with the purest evangelical principles ; but while sitting therein, he is even .is a lamb led to the slaughter by Selwyn, and openeth not. his month. ' Mr. Swainson, the ex-Attorney-General, is an exlremely fluent and practised speaker, though by no means an energetic one. It is fortunate for the Synod that he happens to be a member ; for .being a first-rate-draughtsman, and a capital man of business, he has done more to set the house going, and'to keep it straight, than the whole bench of Bishops put together. He rather gives one the idea, however, of being retained for the Bishops ; a notion which a delicate ecclesiastical tonsure is probably intended to confirm. On yonder sofa pits Archdeacon -Kissling, an Auckland representative. Short, sturdy, squareheaded, with closely-cropped grey hair, nn--Ta fhee markedly expressive both of good-nature and determination, he is one of the most respected members of the Synod. A German by birth, ho speaks .with a strong foreign accent, but. always uses the purest and most grammatical English. Owing to his peculiar pronunciation, however, it requires'steady attention to understand him on a first hearing. But,his talents and eloquence are of a very high order, and no ecclesiastic in Wellington preaches sermons better worth listening to. Close at hand is Captain Fearon, of Nelson, chiefly remarkable for a long beard, a hooked nose, a low forehead, and a certain aggravating tendency in twiddle his thumbs. He seldom rises to speak, Hit, whenever he does, he tucks a c-oat tail tightly tinder each arm, and stoops forward in a singularly graceful position. Probably he conceives"that a coolness—an airiness, so to speak—■about the lower part of his person is conducive to freedom and rlegance of speech. Judging from the results, however, the attitude does not appear efficacious. Then comes Powell, of Wangantii, whose personal qualifications are decidedly" gocd, but who has hitherto made no sign of possessing any mental ones whatever. Next is Captain Haulfain, from Auckland. Upright, bald-headed, and soldierly ; no great speaker, hut doing his work well as chairman of committees. That painfully mild man in dark raiment is Mr. Bury, of Nelson. The unhappy looking " party " next fo him is Mr. Aitken. And the gentleman on the other side, with the light moustache, and singularly puzzled expression of countenance, is Battersbee, member for t \e Wellington Country Districts. Then comes Hurst, of New Plymouth. Short, stout^ and bald-headed, with an intensely respectable black satin stock and waistcoat, he impresses the most casual observer with the conviction that he was born a butler, and subsided in later life into the general green grocery line. He is frequently, on bis legs, and invariably professes to have par! extreme attention to the" particular subject in hand ; but the.results of his studies are seldom satisfactory-to the audience. • Lastly, beyond the space allot ted for members, alone on : a • long • bench placed behind the veil Separating the audience from the - inner sanctum, sits the famou* Arthur Baker, who has never dared fo take his seat as one of the church representatives, knowing that the. majority of the Synod object ,to receiving amongst them a person of his peculiar propensities for females of tender years. The audience, too, markedly give him a wide berth. Notwithstanding bis notorious tendency to osculation, he is by means an inviting object. Short, and of marvellously attenuated figure, he is appropriately attired in 'a "mark of the beast" coat, huttonecl up to .the chin, and reaching down ! to his heels; but rather short in the sleeves, from which project a pair of livid bony hands, nervously clasping the dividing rail in front of him. A rumpled white neckcloth surrounds his skinny neck—which looks, like a bundle of whipcords covered with dirty parchment. No shirt or shirtcollar is visible^ From his short trousers are thrust out a pair.of lean terminations, cased in blue worsted stockings and high-lows. His hair is grizzled brown —his face precisely parchment colour. Beneath a low forehead, seamed with wrinkles, two dull,' lead-coloured eyes are perpetually blinking behind spectacles that appear to be worn in. order to conceal the peculiar expression of the orbs in question. The cheek bones are high, but the cheeks appear to have fallen in. The nose and mouth ar« perpetually twitching; the latter being compressed in so peculiar a manner that it is reduced to a mere long slit, no lips whatever being visible. Altogether,' he has exactly the appearance of a prisoner at the bar, just called up for sentence, and making what are appropriately termed " gallows faces " at his unpleasant prospects. Of course he is a Pusoyite, and bitter, politician;

for without these two bigoted qualifies notafinger would have been raised on his-behalf in Wellington. '• His'sermons are the most miserable Tractarian twaddle that ever dribbled from a st-mi-Romanist pulpit.