The Nature and Meaning of Protestantism in New Zealand Culture

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 26, Issue 1, 1 January 1993, Page 59

The Nature and Meaning of Protestantism in New Zealand Culture

PETER J. LINEHAM

In 1940, as New Zealanders fearfully watched Britain’s struggle for survival, many in the community wanted revenge on those responsible. The Rationalist Association based in Auckland identified what they hoped would prove a very popular culprit. They reprinted the British rationalist, Joseph McCabe s scathing pre-war anti-Catholic works, plainly because they believed that the Catholic church was to blame for the war. At the same time their political orientation shifted from the Labour Party, which seemed to be entering some sort of Catholic alliance, and rallied behind John A. Lee who himself felt that it was priestcraft that had brought him down. It seems a strange pre-occupation for Rationalists, who had declared themselves the enemies of all organised religions. An editorial in the. New Zealand Rationalist gave their justification:

We were recently asked why we are so anti-Catholic. We are not simply anti-Catholic. It can never be forgotten that in Spain millions of Catholics fought against the brutal and beastly tyrant Franco, who had the support and blessing of the Roman Catholic Church. ... No decent man is antagonistic to another because the latter has not been properly educated and informed. On the contrary he is sympathetic and seeks to supply the knowledge that he is lacking; and to clear away the conditions and forces that make man ignorant. That is the Rationalist attitude towards Catholics. We are unalterably opposed to the organised supernaturalist tyranny that enslaves the minds and often the bodies of millions of decent, well-meaning, but misinformed Catholics all over the world.

So the Spanish Civil War made the rationalists anti-Romanists. It was the first ideological war and it drew Rationalists away from their earlier attacks on evangelical Protestants, and led them to ally with old-fashioned Protestantism, using well worn Protestant arguments in order to sustain the anti-Romanist diatribe. This employment of Protestantisms language and values reflects the way Protestantism functioned in New Zealand history to provide a publicly available discourse of values and attitudes, which helped to frame interpretations of New Zealand society and politics for those who employed it. Most historians have noticed Protestantism only as an extremist pressure group associated with the Protestant Political Association and the Reform Party. This is very inadequate, ignoring the nineteenth century campaigns for Protestant values, and ignoring Protestantisms historic European roots. The attitude reflects a characteristic trend in New Zealand historiography: to write the history of faith out of the story - largely because so many public

figures themselves chose to veil their religious values in public life. This paper seeks to decode the values of Protestant politicians. It uses a flexible definition of‘Protestant’ as basically any person or church which saw itself as Protestant - thus by-passing a major issue about the identity of Anglicanism and of the smaller sects, which were in some senses Protestant and in other senses not.

The theme is partly inspired by a recent emphasis in British religious history, notably Patrick Collinson’s writings, including Godly People : Essays on English Protestantism and Puritanism (1983). Collinson and others argue that popular Protestantism has shaped English culture very deeply. To what extent has it also shaped New Zealand culture, politics and values, bearing in mind that these draw upon Scottish and Irish roots as well? The original title of this paper, ‘Prim and Proper’, was intended to correct common opinions by indicating that Protestantism was at heart a very respectable phenomenon, with a conservative influence on the tone of New Zealand. Yet plainly there was a ‘primitive’ as well as a ‘prim’ side to Protestantism, which is most apparent in its anti-Catholic tone. In nineteenth-century Britain it was a very important force." This aspect of popular Protestantism remains an issue in British identity, reinforced by the Guy Fawkes celebrations and the Ulster troubles.

In New Zealand it has nearly vanished from public view, and Guy Fawkes has become an innocuous celebration. Yet it was once very significant. The Catholic minority in New Zealand was much larger than in Great Britain, but New Zealand had no Ireland (or New South Wales), where Catholics were a potential majority, and only on the West Coast and in South Canterbury were they even a significant minority. So the Catholic church was usually on the defensive in the New Zealand setting. There were some flashpoints - the Fenian demonstrations on the West Coast in 1868, the attack on the Orange order’s parades inTimaru and Christchurch in 1879, the visit of the former priest, Charles Chiniquy early in 1880, the famous Post-Office case of the Protestant Political Association in 1917, and the prosecution of Bishop Liston for sedition in 1922. This paper does not intend to explore these issues at all, which have been the focus of increasingly sophisticated research. The research has shown why the flashpoints were few: the state was anxious to prevent any trouble. Chiniquy’s supporters were very aware of the riot in Hobart just before he came to New Zealand, and anxious to avoid any incidents. 3 It was clearly the circumstances of war which provided an opportunity for the P.PA. or the Rationalists to promote public agitation on the issue. Yet there was a much more pervasive culture of Protestant anti-Catholicism in New Zealand, which influenced values in the colony. In Auckland in October 1885 a former nun filled the main theatre with her account of the monstrosities of the convent, and the Rationalists responded by finding their own ex-nun speaker. 4 Neither event was like a church service. They

were typical nineteenth-century popular entertainments, crude and colourful. They drew upon and encouraged a common discourse which framed the imaginative life of many ordinary people. Many a Protestant child crossed the road in fear when she saw the nuns approaching, thinking that her safety was at risk. Children threw stones and yelled ‘cattle-dogs’ at Catholic children walking to school, and their victims yelled ‘proddy-dogs’ in retaliation. 5 Anti-Catholicism employed a specific political and cultural rhetoric. To talk about it was to invoke the cause of theology, education, social class and the rule of law. Catholics were seen as a disorderly people. In two widely separated cases in the nineteenth century children who had been deserted were wrongly assumed to be Catholic, reflecting the commonplace view about the character of the Catholic community.

Popular vitriol was by no means the only aspect of anti-Catholicism. It was also an analytic discourse. In the so-called ‘Temuka Tournament’ the capable and colourful Irish Presbyterian John Dickson confronted the eloquent and learned French Father Theopholis Le Menant Des Chesnais in 1896. They directed at each other a series of ardent pamphlets which presented the differences between Protestant and Catholic values. While Temuka was not exactly an intellectual centre, the arguments thrown about were fairly complex for this South Canterbury community, known for its large number of Catholic residents. Des Chesnais commented that Dickson in his pamphlets presented himself as a knight coming to the rescue of truth.' He articulated no personal diatribe but a passion for Protestant ideas. Consequently Dickson quite deliberately spoke in the name of Protestantism, whereas Des Chesnais preferred to characterise his opponent and his ideas as Presbyterian. Here is a clue to the significance of Protestant language. It was a public platform which seemed non-sectarian to those who used it. John Dickson went on to write a series of notable works against Catholicism, and made his public reputation thus.

One of the attractions of anti-Catholicism for smaller sects was that it enabled them to participate in public issues which normally they avoided. The tone of Protestant comments on Catholicism varied greatly. Most Anglicans and some Presbyterian ministers were carefully courteous, but one Methodist commented: ‘The exercise of charity towards Romanism is a betrayal of the distinctive principles of the Reformation. 8 In the twentieth century Baptists and smaller sects continued the tradition of defending Protestantism. Inevitably their language was often fairly blunt, although the leading anti-Catholic was the Rev. J. J. North, the first Principal of the New Zealand Baptist College, in himself a man of reason, logic and eloquence. 9 It is mistaken to imagine that Protestantism flourished only in opposition to Catholicism. One of the most colourful conflicts in nineteenth-century New Zealand, which has hardly been noticed by historians, was awakened

by the fear that anti-Protestant factions were seizing control of the Church of England. This was a very sensitive issue in Great Britain in the late nineteenth century, with the emergence of the Oxford Movement, and then encouraged Catholic forms of devotion, in particular post-Tridentine and baroque eucharistic forms. James Bentley has traced the explosive tensions which led to the Public Worship Regulation Act of 1874. This act was defied by the ritualist clergy, and the High Church thus became entrenched in England. 10 It was at the height of this crisis in 1876, that a ritualist case exploded in the Christchurch diocese, and showed just how volatile the issue was in New Zealand.

Christchurch diocese had a strong Tractarian influence at the outset, although this was before the High Church movement became addicted to ritual excess. The diocese was well endowed with clerical Anglican opinion and therefore High Church values frequently intruded. Bishop Harper accepted baptismal regeneration, and seems to have been influenced by the Tractarians. During the second half of the nineteenth century the New Zealand church was anxious to recruit more clergy from England, particularly good clergy, and this meant that ritualists were among the likely candidates. Thus it was that H. E. Carlyon was instituted to the parish of Kaiapoi in 1875. He almost immediately introduced standard “ritualist” innovations - the eastward position at communion, the use of vestments, auricular confession for those who desired it - and he taught the doctrine of the Real Presence in Communion. Bishop Harper wished to permit some AngloCatholic practices, but he did not approve of the offensive manner in which the changes were introduced. 12 Moreover he was horrified when a controversy

erupted among the laity in the parish of Kaiapoi and in the diocese. Carlyon was accused of idolatry. In the New Zealand church the synodical structure and the role of the diocesan standing committee meant that the voice of the laity and the voice of leading clergy could be a serious pressure on the episcopacy. 13 There was a sharp exchange of pamphlets over the legitimacy of auricular confession between Carlyon and the Rev G. E. Cholmondley, a well respected low churchman who was Vicar of Opawa. 14 Carlyon soon realised that his theology was unpopular with most laity, and that the Bishop s toleration was not enough in itself. Even the official diocesan newspaper attacked the bishop s tolerance of high church practices, while a stridently low church lay-run magazine was founded early in 1876 specifically to combat ritualist advances. 15 Harper inevitably decided to dismiss Carlyon. Harper faced a similar problem with the formation of the Dunedin diocese out of the southern section of the Christchurch diocese. H. L. Jenner was nominated and also consecrated as bishop of the new diocese by the English bench of bishops. When, before his arrival, Jenner was accused of ritualism (a somewhat overblown charge compared to Carlyon), Harper as Primate requested the new bishop to act with discretion, but as controversy continued, both the General Synod and the Dunedin Synod declined to

accept him, probably at Harper’s suggestion. In this they defied the advice of the English bishops - a step which reflects the intensity of local lay opinion against ritualism. 1 Jenner’s replacement (or perhaps one should say successor), S.T. Nevill, was himself inclined towards the High Church party. This in part was a reaction to the dominant Presbyterianism of Dunedin, which viewed the Church of England as the ‘little enemy’. Low church clergy were comfortable in Dunedin, but Nevill had a sharp contretemps with one of his low church clergy, Lorenzo Moore, in 1880, and Moore resigned and established a Dunedin congregation of the ultra-low Free Church of England. 17 Anti-ritualist disputes also occurred in Auckland as a result of Bishop Neligan’s activities and they reached a new peak in Christchurch after 1910. The story has been analyzed in detail by Marie Peters. A number of clergy had begun to wear vestments by this stage. St Michael’s, the original parish in the city of Christchurch, chose as its new vicar H. D. Burton, an ardent ritualist from England. Then J. R. Wilford, appointed the Principal of College House in 1913 began to instruct local Anglican ordinands in Catholic theology. The public reacted with excited opposition and support. Historians know about the Protestant reaction against the Catholic Ne Temere , but the Presbyterian committee set up in 1911 aimed to confront Ritualism as well as Romanism. 18

Lay Anglican hostility to ritualism was a significant factor in New Zealand. Clergy had to be careful how far they went, conscious that anti-clericalism might be stirred up by ritualist controversy. 19 Bishop Cowie was concerned that Anglicans in Auckland would not even accept what he regarded as the standard Anglican doctrine of apostolic succession, nor any hint of symbolism. 20 We need to ponder why anti-ritualism attracted such public interest in New Zealand. Undoubtedly the intense debate on the issue in England, which culminated with the House of Commons’ rejection of the 1928 prayer book, conditioned the New Zealand discussion. Yet there were additional factors in the mix of responses in New Zealand. One was the Scottish influence in New Zealand culture. John Dickson, the stalwart opponent of Romanism, broadened his attack on ritualism in the sister Church of England. His forthright comments were written to persuade Anglicans not to betray Protestantism. 21 He feared that the Anglican church was sliding towards Rome, and he cited the evidence of banners, crosses and bowing to the altar." 2 Dickson was Irish, and Irish influences undoubtedly made him hostile to ritualism as well as Romanism. Significant numbers of Anglicans in New Zealand were Irish and the Rev. Vicesimus Lush commented cautiously that: ‘I feel sure that the Irish Protestants would leave in a body at the very sight of candles and the very sound of intoning’. 23 Moreover the common theology of Anglican lay people was a simple evangelicalism and a deep attachment to the Book of Common Prayer, and it was easy enough to awaken excitement that it was under threat.

The anti-ritualists rejected ceremony because it changed the Prayer Book Communion service to a sacrificial act. The adoration of the eucharist was seen as tantamount to idolatry." 4 The other major concern was the Tractarians’ call for a restoration of “auricular confession” and the confession box. Bishop Harper was prepared to defend this innovation. He felt that opposition to confession was provoked by the guilty conscience of sinners which explained the attitude that “sins of uncleanness are not great harm, and that it is rather a better thing than otherwise to sow... our wild oats, in our youth.”" 5 This is an interesting interpretation, but the main sensitivity was probably the Victorian concern that sexual and family problems should be hidden from outsiders. 26

The Church of England did not need to define its Anglican ethos. Evangelicals defined their ethos in distinction to the rest of the church. CMS missionaries like Richard Taylor and Robert Maunsell were raised in this tradition, and their doctrinal successors, evangelical ministers like Lorenzo Moore and E H. Spencer of the Bible Society were ardent low church clergy. Most colonial Anglican clergy were not happy with the low church ethos. Yet they needed to define their ethos, in order to come to terms with other churches and their lack of establishment status. The Broad Church philosophy had few advocates in the colony. The rather low church Bishop of Nelson, A. B. Suter, whose diocese was set in a community noted for its religious eclecticism and friendliness, was prepared to advocate tolerance of others, but he was unpopular with Anglicans when he advocated this view in Dunedin, for High Anglicans felt he simply played into Presbyterian hands. 27

Evangelical Anglicans had grown more churchly’ in the nineteenth century. Moreover Selwyn had prohibited inter-communion between CMS and Wesleyan Maori converts early after his arrival, and the Church of England distanced itself from other colonial sects. Anglican clerical identity in England had been aided by the formation of training colleges and the re-establishment of Convocation. The clergy sought to distance themselves from protestant populism because of this search for an identity for their church. Robert Coffey’s Anglican defence in his debate with the Presbyterian minister William Gillies sought to expose “Protestant and Puritan ignorance”. 28 Anglicanisms denominational identity was augmented by doctrines like the apostolic succession of its bishops. Octavius Hadfield recognised that this was easier than a biblical defence of Anglicanisms clerical order. 29 The doctrine of baptismal regeneration derived from the Prayer Book was a convenient doctrine which distanced Anglicanism from evangelical theology. In 1885-6 Canon C. Boddington and the Rev. G. E. Mason of Selwyn’s diocese of Lichfield led a mission in several dioceses of New Zealand, and they repeatedly gave a strong defence of High Anglican dogma and piety. In Hamilton there was sharp contention by protestant church leaders. Mason felt that the Protestants were trying to prevent the Anglican church from

having distinctive doctrines. The church had to become more than a via medial When Selwyn had first visited Wellington in 1843, the welcome he received greatly irritated the first minister in the town, the Church of Scotland minister John Macfarlane. 31 Presbyterians disliked the deference accorded to bishops, and those from the Church of Scotland were acutely conscious that their church was a state one too. Protestant suspicions of Anglicanism increased in the 1880 s, as denominational organisations expanded. Anglican clergy further offended because they rarely participated in the Protestant alliance against drink, secular schooling and other social and moral ills. So Protestants attacked High Church ‘bigotry’ and ‘semi-popery’ - terms calculated to blacken the Church of England in the eyes of popular opinion. Bitter Presbyterians insisted that a ‘sacerdotal church’ should be put in its place. Yet their envy was surely provoked by the natural leadership among the churches which north of the Waitaki belonged to the Church of England. In the reshuffling of denominational loyalties in the colony, Anglican leadership is evident from the number of clergy from smaller churches who became Anglicans. 32

The Anglican church became more sectarian, but at the same time the Protestant churches became self-consciously obeisant to the nation and the people. Early in the history of Auckland Archdeacon J. F. Lloyd, even though he was ordained in the Church of Ireland, was obliged to decline a request to speak to the new Orange Lodge due to Selwyn’s reaction. An early Presbyterian minister of Auckland, the Rev David Bruce, was asked instead and willingly agreed. Consequently many Ulstermen drifted to the Presbyterian church. 33 As Anglicanism became more sectarian, there were new opportunities for others.

Protestantism thus did not just fight to protect public life. The attack on Ritualism indicates other aspects of Protestantism, reflected in the repeated criticisms of Catholicisms ‘superstitious devotions’. 34 Ritualisms chief fault was that its devotion to ceremony was somehow un-English and distastefully decorous. Liturgy itself was not under suspicion. Anglicans were imbued with the words and rhythms of the liturgy, and the deist Coleman Phillips produced his own curious Prayer Book for freethinkers, recognising the desire for forms of prayer. 33 Yet half the worshippers in the 1851 Census of England and Wales were Nonconformists, and for them liturgy was an unfamiliar framework. I have traced elsewhere some of the patterns of Protestant piety in the colony, and noted the strong emphasis on family religion and use of the Bible despite the relatively low levels of attendance at regular church services. 36 Protestantism was most itself in church services, and those services reflected a common ideal which was supposed to be simple, hearty, with a strong emphasis on the spoken word and the sermon, and a minimum of the ‘beautiful’. The critical cultural cqntribution of the Protestant service was the hymn. Protestant hymnology greatly expanded

in the nineteenth century, and while Wesleyans continued to use Wesley’s collection, Anglicans issued a New Zealand hymnal, which was used by people from many denominations. This New Zealand book was gradually supplanted by British denominational collections. 37 These hymns framed devotional life in the terms of evangelical experience of the grace of God. They furnished memorable words and phrases for personal religious experience. They were influenced to some extent by the tradition of sober and plain Dissenting language, and in many ways reinforced biblical idioms, although this did not appease the Presbyterian elder who lamented the declining use of Psalms and complained that God could not be properly praised with words that ‘may seem pure scripture truth, yet may be displeasing to him’. 38 The plainness of this language, and the biblical nature of its metaphors made them both accessible and familiar. For the lack of many overtly “religious” symbols meant that the culture of New Zealand Protestantism could be at the same time all-pervasive and yet inconspicuous in the secular world. Many Protestants were horrified at the use of any symbolism in worship. The Wesleyan Thomas Sharplin complained to his denominational magazine about the use of crosses in churches:

Yes. Sir, I have seen four of them upon one [church] -gilded crosses, glittering in the sun and defiling his rays, mocking the true cross, pleasing the votaries of error - a sight at which angels might weep, demons laugh, and every right-minded Methodist shudder. Despite British Methodism’s authorization ofWesley’s simplified prayer book, it was rarely used in New Zealand, and communion was generally received sitting in the pews. 40 Thus Methodism moved towards a Nonconformist norm, and so too did Presbyterianism. The introduction of hymns and harmoniums came quickly in the northern church, reflecting awareness that their congregations included significant numbers of other Protestants. By 1876 even the Otago Synod had authorised the use of the organ, which had been one of the reasons why it had declined to amalgamate with northern Presbyterians. 41 This was a modest degree of ritual, although it awakened a horrified protest from the Rev William Bannerman of Clutha Presbytery ‘not to surrender the citadel of Evangelicalism, which they would do were they to introduce instrumental music, which would eventually lead up to all the evils of ritualism.’ 42

There was some unease about the plainness of church services. A Presbyterian service could be, according to the Rev Peter Barclay, the first minister of the Napier Presbyterian Church, ‘cold and somewhat repellent to emotional natures’. 43 There was a popular trend towards the dramatic and emotional atmosphere of the ‘ranting’ revivalist service. This form of service was Methodist in origin, but after the 1859 revival it developed a more general popularity, which is reflected in the frequent use in New Zealand of undenominational revivalist hymn books. Revivalist services spoke a plain and modern language, full of homely and sentimental

metaphors, and were very direct in their challenge and ardent in their excitement. The style was distasteful to Protestant leaders, who felt that gravity and an appeal to mind over heart was the essence of Protestantism, as their criticism of ritualism shows. The revivalists defended their services: ‘Shall Satan have all the force of the sensational element... and the friends of Jesus be debarred from using it in trying to rescue men from the jaws of hell?’, wrote a Methodist. 44 This was not the priority of Protestant leaders; they believed that their churches had to serve the whole nation, and therefore the religion needed to have the grave tone of a proper and dignified service. Gradually, particularly in the city churches, the revivalist tone was dampened. Populists did not surrender easily. There were hot controversies in many city Protestant churches over the use of organ and choir. By the 1870 s the sung anthem was common in the more formal morning service, and theTe Deum was often recited. 45 Protestantism’s traditions of worship thus changed.

Protestantism’s own heritage of a strong emphasis upon the word in worship was both a strength and a weakness. This love of preaching made many aware of the poor quality of colonial preachers and their insensitivity to local pastoral needs. Lay preachers were widely employed as home missionaries by the Presbyterian Church of New Zealand and by the Wesleyan Methodist church, and often their sermons were simply summaries of those of C. H. Spurgeon or some other divine. Some revivalist preachers constantly sought to awaken their congregations to their sin and need. The language and tone of the sermon were important. As a rule, congregations prefer a sermon hot from the heart and mind of the preacher’, a secular newspaper remarked. 46 Yet attitudes were changing and this newspaper had heard a report of a congregation demanding a written sermon. Many church leaders were embarrassed at the tone of‘ranter’ preachers. There was growing demand for a more instructional emphasis. This perhaps reflects the dispersion of primary education. 4 The national function which the churches sought to exercise forced them to reflect on their teaching and therefore on their ministerial training. Protestantism’s aspirations were thus forcing changes on the structure of the churches.

The Anglican church in New Zealand had a long history of service to the state, and most of its ministers were trained in Britain where the establishment continued in a weakened form. Nonconformists at the same time had gained the right to conduct marriages, and the newness of this function may explain some of the enthusiasm for acting as agents of the state. While Catholics and some Anglicans saw marriage as a sacrament, dispensed by the church as a grace from God, Presbyterians and Methodists were outraged when the Pope promulgated the Ne Temere decree. The Marriage Amendment Act of 1920 guaranteed public and national support for the non-sacramental view of marriage, and this came about at the instigation of Protestant churches and the P P A. Similarly Presbyterians and Methodist churches were delighted to baptise, marry or bury people when the Church of England declined.

Some longed to abandon altogether the attitude that churches were exclusive bodies, aware that this led churches to be reluctant to minister outside their own walls. 48 Yet religious values had much to lose from secular intervention. Anglicans who were known for their Erastianism in England, had been taught by Bishop Selwyn to approach the issue rather differently. The Rev J. E Feron, the Vicar of Ashburton, complained that often the church was used merely as a convenience by people. 41 In contrast Presbyterians appreciated the opportunity to serve. Presbyterian and particularly Methodist churches did not abandon overnight their concept of a defined membership and commitment, but a trend was evident. Protestant preachers never feared debate. The great preachers of nineteenthcentury Britain, Thomas Chalmers, R. W. Dale, Hugh Price Hughes and (in a different way) C. H. Spurgeon were brilliant at interpreting deep and serious issues to their congregations. In New Zealand the level of public debate of issues was not so high, and fewer ministers had the intellectual calibre to make significant contributions to the issues, but the ability of men like James Gibb, Rutherford Waddell,Thomas Roseby, William Morley, Alfred North and Octavius Hadfield is remarkable. Given this kind of public commentary the suggestion of the exclusion of religion from politics seems ironic. Moreover debates over theological issues of the day were much more common and significant than we might imagine. 50 Sermons must often have dealt with important public issues.

The hottest issues in the eyes of the New Zealand churches were those regarding the moral discipline of the community, and this concern was shared by politicians. The absence of an established church made agreement on a moral code more urgent in the establishment of a new country. The Protestant ministers were eager to show the breadth of any state church in their concerns, and refused to see themselves as Nonconformists. It was the age of the social gospel and the Nonconformist conscience, so moralism drew upon strong precedents. 51 It was the responsibility -or perhaps an occupational hazard - of ministers to define complex economic and social problems in moral terms and offer simple solutions. 5 " The framework of Protestant social thought emphasised the seriousness of life, and the need for moral endeavour if one was to live successfully. Protestants viewed a life of leisure and relaxation as dangerous for material well-being and spiritually debilitating. Yet one is struck also by the very different tone in their moral commentaries from traditional Puritanism. It is the utility of the state to which they constantly appealed. Their ethic was thus located within an existing public discourse and this owed much to the Victorian concept of political economy. 53 Consequently it reflected the aspiration to social control of the people which pervaded much of Victorian education. They needed public agreement, and the support of other moralisers, particularly Anglicans. In 1871 Protestant moral authority in the settlement of Geraldine, South

Canterbury, was greatly aided by the arrival of a new Anglican minister who declared that he had acted as moral policeman in his last parish, and invited the co-operation of Nonconformists to vanquish the powers of darkness in his new parish. Such co-operation across denominational boundaries helped rally the forces of order. 54 The moralist campaigns more readily drew upon the strong support of middle-class women. Kate Sheppard and her colleagues gave moral support to a range of movements highly compatible with the interests of the Protestant churches.

Inevitably there were various reactions to such moralism, but it is the relative lack of distinct protest which is striking. Despite - or perhaps because of - the relatively low rates of church attendance, and the weakness of the respectable middle class, society accepted the churches’ definition of the issues. This is perhaps a reflection of the nervousness present within New Zealand that the colony was in grave danger of decline and collapse. The guiding concern in many of these debates was the widespread desire of both lay and clerical leaders of the Protestant churches to portray their churches as national institutions, and themselves as true Christian patriots. 55 So they took responsibility for ensuring that the state was conducted as a truly national rather than as a partisan institution. Each church accepted that its own forms of worship and organisation merited no special favours from the state. They had a concept of the national interest, and thus could insist that the state was Christian because it was founded as a Christian monarchy, and so must act Christianly for its own good. 56 Their moral concerns - Bible in Schools, temperance, the control of gambling and the

use of Sunday - were always seen as benefiting the state and therefore they sought state enforcement of them. Consequently they were happy to force non-believers to accept these values. However they also saw advantages to their churches from their moral stance. James Gibb, the greatest Presbyterian of the pre-war generation, was the ablest advocate of moralism and was also anti-Catholic, suspicious of Anglicans, and concerned to develop a national evangelical church to evangelise the nation. 57 Protestant ministers wanted a national Christianity which was not bland. In Catholicism they detected a form of religion which undermined the authority of the state, and therefore believed that an over-generous toleration of it was dangerous. ‘Remember that Rome does not change and Rome in politics means evil - only evil- and evil continually to the state’, commented George Aldridge, a preacher for the Church of Christ Life and Advent who gained popularity as a Protestant controversialist. 58 After the dinner of the Hibernian Australasian Catholic Benefit Society in Nelson in 1875 was attended by the local Resident Magistrate and Registrar of the Supreme Court, the Minister of Justice, Charles Bowen, a low church Canterbury Anglican, expressed strong disapproval, for at the dinner the health of the Pope had been drunk before the loyal toast to the Queen. 5; Protestant New Zealanders were concerned that Catholic loyalty to the state was conditional. Others felt their anxieties

were alarmist, particularly when they provoked them into intolerance. There was a furious dispute in Auckland in 1859 when the Bible Society Auxiliary, whose honorary President was the Governor, Colonel T. R. Gore Browne, expressed staunchly Protestant opinions in its annual report. When the report was criticised in the press, Gore Browne was somewhat embarrassed, and wrote apologising to Bishop Pompallier. The officers of the Society were unrepentant. They were not advocates of religious intolerance, they insisted, but as one correspondent put it: That Protestants can tamely submit to be brow-beaten and insulted, not only out of Rome, but in a country where the Government is essentially Protestant, or quietly observe their Governor prostrated before a Catholic Lord Bishop accepting absolution, can only be accounted for upon the principles of Jesuitism, and their own inordinate love of money.

Meanwhile the Methodist joint secretary of the society, Isaac Harding, felt it incumbent on him to criticise the Governor, for the Bible Society was surely a model of Protestant ecumenism which deserved the loyalty of all reasonable people. That was a bold move, showing the conditional nature of Protestant loyalism. 60 For it was a sensitive problem for Protestants, given their loyalty to the state, as to how far could they be critics of it without endangering their relationship with it. Recent Protestant history continues to explore this problem.

Such an approach was diametrically opposed to the Catholic position, for the Catholic hierarchy emphasised that civilization must first be Christian and could only be moral on this basis. The state and its demands must take second place to religion. In social life Catholics believed the church had responsibility to mediate religious perspectives, supply values, education, interpretation of the Bible, and instruction to the community. The Catholic school system was a small step towards realising this vision. ’ The notion of a separate education system thus summed up the very essence of the divergence, for it deeply offended the Protestant vision of a nation together endorsing general and unsectarian Christian principles. Towards the Church of England Protestantism displayed more ambivalence. Protestants were disturbed at the political implications of its potentially sectarian character. The Church of England had lost its established status when the General Assembly had declined to take over the Colonial Offices share of Bishop Selwyns salary. Yet Selwyn had determined to prevent any generalised support by the state for all churches. The first session of the General Assembly had also agreed to open sessions with prayer - on that first occasion delivered by Archdeacon Lloyd but later by the Speaker of the House. Some members at the time countered with a motion ‘that this house be not turned into a conventicle’, but Protestants saw it as an ideal development. 62 The state could act Christianly so long as it did not favour any one denomination unduly. Opportunities for proselytisation were not part of the intention of proposing Bible in Schools, which they wanted to be carried out by the class teacher not by ministers.

Many onlookers found this attitude difficult to believe, and the exclusion of the Bible from schools owed much to the expectancy that the Bible in schools would not in fact be directed for the benefit of the nation but rather to the benefit of the various denominations. Protestants were very aware of Catholic proselytising, complaining for example about the pressures experienced by Protestant children who attended convent schools. 63 Certainly this type of evangelism was far more characteristic of the Protestant churches, and it was they which gave the conventicle a bad name. Yet they were cautious not to promote the cause of their denominations too vigorously. They were conscious of the greater casualness about denominationalism in the colony. Many Protestants found themselves attending a church of a denomination other than that of their birth, and did not take kindly to sectarian evangelism. T. S. Forsaith in the same year that he promoted the cause of prayers in Parliament took sides in a debate in the first Auckland Presbyterian church (which he attended because there was no Congregational church) criticising a Free Church minister who was ‘not so catholic and liberal in his views as I could have wished’, failing to realise that ‘our position here is very different from a church at home’. 64 Protestant clergy who sought too hard to advance their own denomination’s

cause were often scorned. Thomas Frew Robertson, the minister of St Stephen’s Presbyterian church, Ponsonby from 1889 to 1905, told the Auckland Ministers’ Association that if the church wanted to expand, then: ‘the Fathers who loved, from old world associations, their special denomination, must die’. Fie argued strongly for Gibb’s concept of a united evangelical church: ‘How feeble., we are, as sects, against any crying social evil. How powerful we might be if united in a patriotic church?’ 65 Ecumenism was thus closely linked to the vision of the national calling of Protestantism. In 1900 the amalgamation of the Presbyterian church with its southern sister occasioned the first negotiations for a national evangelical church. 66 H. R. Rae commented perceptively that a ‘large majority of colonists desire to exclude the narrowness, the strife, the bitterness, the hair-splitting propensities, which the sects exhibit among themselves and towards each other the moment they enter the schoolroom, with the Bible in their hands.’ 67 The Protestant churches desired to demonstrate that they were above this attitude by their co-operative outlook. However public opinion was sceptical of this, noting that popular Protestantism was far from endorsing the community ideal of tolerance. In the newspapers there was strong criticism of those ministers who would not attend the funeral of the Bishop Viard of Wellington in 1872. 68

This paper has concentrated on Protestant sentiment in the nineteenth century. But, as the story of the rationalists’ protestantism indicates, Protestantism long remained a vigorous force into the twentieth century. While its ‘seamier’ side has largely declined, a key factor in this has in fact been what one might call the ‘protestantisation’ of the Catholic Church.

For many of the less specifically sectarian values of Protestantism survived to temper public discourse until today. It may be suggested that Protestant values have largely been displaced in recent discourse by secular ones. Certainly there is much truth in this, but secularism itself emerged to a large extent within a Protestant framework. It is curious that the most eloquent advocates of a secular view of New Zealand are Protestant clergy. Traditional Christianity may be in decline in New Zealand, but many aspects of its values are as significant in public life as they ever were.

Notes on Contributors

ALEX CALDER teaches in the English Department, University of Auckland. He recently edited the anthology TheWritingofNew Zealand-. Inventions and Identities, 1993. JONAS FRYKMAN is Professor of European Ethnology, University of Lund, Sweden. In 1992 he was resident at the Humanities Research Centre, Australian National University, Canberra.

ROSS GALBREATH is a researcher. He has just published Working with Wildlife : A History of the New Zealand Wildlife Service, 1993. PETER GIBBONS teaches in the History Department, Waikato University. He is working on a biography of Johannes Andersen, the first Chief Librarian, Alexander Turnbull Library; and researching in the area of settler society’s appropriation of aspects of indigenous cultures.

PETER LINEHAM teaches in the History Department, Massey University. His Religious History of New Zealand : a Bibliography was republished in 1989; and he worked with Colin Davis on The Future of the Past. Currently researching early English Methodism.

JOHN E. MARTIN is Senior Historian, Historical Branch, Dept of Internal Affairs. Published People, Politics and Power Stations (1991); and is now working on the offical history of the Deparment of Labour.

REFERENCES 1 New Zealand Rationalist, December 1941 - January 1942, p. 8, cited in N. Cooke, 48.699 Special Topic Long Essay, (Massey University Department of History, 1991). 2 See E. R. Norman, Anti-Catholicism in Victorian England (London, 1968). 3 The above issues have been the centre of significant research in which the work of R. P. Davis, Irish Issues in New Zealand Politics 1868-1922 (Dunedin 1974) has now been superseded by new research, particularly H. M. Curreen, ‘Pastor Charles Chiniquy: His New Zealand Tour of 1880’, (Research Essay in History, Auckland University, 1984), pp. 47-61; S. G. Brosnahan, ‘The Battle of the Borough and the Saige o’ Timaru’ (unpublished paper, 1991); D. McGill, The Lion and the Wolfhound: the Irish Rebellion on the New Zealand Goldfields (Wellington, 1990), and the research of R. Sweetman. 4 New Zealand Herald, 12 October 1885, p. 5; 6 Nov. 1885, p. 5; Rationalist, 1, no. 7(18 October 1885), p. 1. 5 There is a superb oral history project for someone, who would find many such stories. 6 For two instances see New Zealand Herald, 20 July 1885, p. 5 and the Canterbury Provincial Archives (Canterbury Museum), letter 1472, 11 May 1864. 7 J. Dickson, A Reply to Father Le Menant Des Chesnais Attack on the Reformation, or, Protestantism versus Roman Catholicism (Timaru, 1896); T. L. M. Des Chesnais, The Temuka Tournament, or, Presbyterianism and Catholicism Compared (Dunedin, 1896), frontispiece. 8 New Zealand Wesleyan, 2, no. 19 (July 1872), pp. 106-7. 9 Romanism: Five Sermons (Dunedin, 1911); and Plain Points of Protestantism (Wellington, 1937), 3rd edition as Protestant and Why (Wellington, 1950), published in all cases by Baptist publishers.

10 James Bentley, Ritualism and Politics in Victorian Britain : The Attempt to Legislate for Belief {Ox ford, 1978). 11 See F. Fuller, Five Years Residence in New Zealand {London, 1859),p. 17 and H. Bowron, ‘Anglo-Catholicism in the Diocese of Christchurch, 1850-1920’ (M. A. thesis in History, University of Canterbury, 1975), chapters 2,3. For Harper see Dictionary of New Zealand Biography, 1, ed. W. H. Oliver (Wellington, 1990), p. 176. 12 Harpers tolerant attitude is spelled out in his A Letter the Bishop of Christchurch to the Church Wardens and Vestrymen of the Parish of Kaiapoi (Christchurch, 1876). See Bowron’s thesis [note 11]. 13 H. E. Carlyon, A Letterfrom the Rev Hubert Edward Carlyon, Late Incumbent of Kaiapoi, N. Z. [sic] to his Friends in New Zealand (London, 1878). 14 [H. E. Carlyon], Does the Church England Sanction Auricular Confession? (Kaiapoi, 1 876) (the copy in the Turnbull Library is not attributed to Carlyon); G. J. Cholmondley, Does the Church England Sanction Auricular Confession? (Christchurch, 1917) (the preface explains that this is a reprint of an earlier edition, no copy of which seems to have survived).

15 H. J. C. Harper, A Letter to the Editor to the New Zealand Church News, (Christchurch, 1876); Church Magazine, 1 (January 1876). 16 See H. L. Jenner, Seeking a See, ed. J. Pearce (Dunedin, 1984). 17 Otaqo Daily Times, 27 February 1880, obituary in Otago Witness, 23 August 1894; W. J. Gardner, ‘Lorenzo Moore, Papanui’s Soldier Parson’, Press [Christchurch], 12 November 1977.

18 M. Peters, Christchurch-St Michael’s: A Study in Anglicanism in New Zealand 1851-1972 (Christchurch, 1986), pp. 99-105; Presbyterian Church of New Zealand, Proceedings of the General Assembly (1911), p. 52. See J. Dickson, Shall Ritualism and Romanism Conquer New Zealand! (Dunedin, 1912). 19 It is explicit in R. Kirk, The Crisis in the Church, or, the Church of Christ versus Ritualistic Sacerdotalism (Auckland, 1879), pp, 13-14. 20 W. G. Cowie, The Unity of the Church and the Ministry of the Word: Two Sermons (Auckland, 1881), pp. 8, 19; Echo, 11 November 1882, p 2.; A Layman’ [Charles Hunter Brown], High Churchmen and their Rights: A Parish Story Founded on Fact (Dunedin, 1888). 21 J. Dickson [see note 18]. 22 Echo, 1 May 1880, p. 2; Lorenzo Moore, letter to Lyttleton Times, 1 July 1867, p 3; letter by “Layman” to Lyttleton Times, 11 June 1872, p. 3. 23 TheThamesJournalsofVicesimusLush 1868-82, ed. A. Drummond (Christchurch, 1975), p 53. 24 The Crux of Ritualism. An Appeal to All Followers of Jesus Christ (Wellington, 1899), p 10; J. Ashcroft, Ritualism and the Rights of the People: Being a Lecture Delivered at Roslyn on sth July 1888 (Dunedin, 1888), p. 21. 25 Harper, A Letter of the Bishop of Christchurch, p 6. 26 J. Ashcroft [note 24], p 25. See also R. Kirk [note 19], pp. 3, 12. 27 A. B. Suter, Periods and Persons, Points and Prospects of Contact between Presbyterians and the Episcopal Church, (Dunedin, 1871). His outlook is shared by R. Taylor, Christian

Unity: A Sermon (Wellington, 1850) (Taylor probably lost the chance of preferment because of his views) and F. H. Spencer, Are they Wrong:? (Wellington, 1897). A rare case of a broad church advocacy of tolerance, R H. Maxwell, A Sermon Preached in the Cathedral Church of St Paul’s Wellington (1856), was in fact given by a short-term visitor. 28 W. Gillies, High-Churchianity a Superstition not New Testament Christianity Wellington & Dunedin, 1893, p. 28. This is the only source for Coffeys book which was evidently entitled Presbyterian Orders, a Reply to the Rev. Wm. Gillies, reprinted from St Mark’s Maqazine - see Gillies, p. 1 29 O. Hadfield, Sermon Preached at St. Paul’s Church, Dunedin, at the Consecration of Rev. S.T.Nevill (Dunedin, 1871), pp. 8-9. 30 G. E. Mason, Round the Round World on a Church Mission (London, 1890), pp. 145-9; J. Carnahan, Life and Times ofWilliam the Third and the History ofOrangeism (Auckland, 1890), p. 284. 31 G. A. Selwyn, A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Diocese, (Auckland, 1848), p. 22; J. Buller, Apostolical Succession: A Sermon... (Wellington, 1859); for Macfarlane see J. Dickson, History of the New Zealand Presbyterian Church (Dunedin, 1899), pp. 33-35. 32 H . Scotland, Denominationalism the Bane of Christianity (Wellington, 1888), p. 23; J. MacGregor, The Church and Social Problems: Marriage and Divorce (Dunedin, n. d.), p. 9; W. Gillies, High-Churchianity [note 28], p. 33; I . Harding, High-Churchism or Semi-Popery Exposed (Auckland, 1867). The most notable Anglican convert was the Wesleyan A. R. Fitchett, whose move is attacked in F. W. Isitt, Sacerdotal Pretensions: or Fitchett the Priest oflßßs answered bv Fitchett the Pastor 0f1875 (Christchurch, [1885]). 33 J. Carnahan, [see note 30], p. 273. 34 R. D. H. Hall, Jubilee 1901-2 - 1951-2 From out Experience (n. pi., n. d.), pp. 505-51. 35 C. Phillips, The Book of Common Prayer and Other Rites and Ceremonies (Wellington, 1886), especially pp. iv-xii.

36 PJ. Lineham, ‘How Institutionalised was Protestant Piety in Nineteenth Century New Zealand?’ Journal of Religious History, 13, no. 4, June 1985, pp. 370-382. 37 The first book seems to have been A New Zealand Hymnal edited for Anglican use by A. G. Purchas in 1862; see W. P. Morrell, The Anglican Church in New Zealand (Dunedin, 1973), p 98. Presbyterians used the New Zealand Hymnal: see New Zealand Presbyterian, February 1866, p 34. The Otago-Southland Synod authorised the English Presbyterian book: Evangelist, 5, no. 2 (February 1873), p. 36. Methodists used Wesley’s hymns, but a new supplement was issued from England in 1877 and a new hymn book with a much wider range of choice in 1904: E. W. Hames, ‘Out of the Common Way: The European Church in the Colonial Era’, Wesley Historical Society NZ Proceedings, 27, nos. 3-4 (1972), pp. 86-7, 136-7. However Sankey’s hymn book was widely used as a supplement in many churches (ibid, pp. 86-7). 38 Evangelist, 1, no. 11 (November 1869), pp. 19-20; D. Davie, A Gathered Church: The Literature of the English Dissenting Interest, 1700-1930 (London, 1978); see also H. Davies, Worship and Theology in England, vol. 3: From Watts to Wesley and Maurice and vol. 4: From Newman to Martineau (Princeton & London, 1962). A significant new analysis of the language of religion in the early period is in I Rivers, Reason, Grace and Sentiment. A Study of the Language of Religion and Ethics in England, 1660-1780, vol. 1: Whichcote to Wesley (Cambridge, 1991). On hymns see J. R. Watson, The Victorian Hymn (Durham, 1981). 39 Letter to the editor, Christian Observer, 1, no. 11 (November 1870), pp. 171-2.

40 New Zealand Wesleyan, 2, no. 14 (February 1872), p. 25; W. Morley, The History of Methodism in New Zealand (Wellington, 1900), pp. 293, 295; New Zealand Wesleyan, 1 March 1876, p. 62. 41 New Zealand Presbyterian, February 1866, pp. 23, 34. There is excellent coverage of changing styles of Presbyterian worship in Presbyterians in Aotearoa 1840-1990, ed. D. McEldowney (Wellington, 1990). 42 Otago Witness, 22 January 1876, pp. 7-9. 43 P Barclay, The Word and Work of Christ in New Zealand (Edinburgh, 1871), p. 239. 44 Christian Observer, 1, no. 2 (February 1870), p. 26. 45 Evangelist, 3, no. 4 (May 1871), pp. 134; Evangelist, 5, no. 2 (February 1873), p. 36; Christian Observer, 1, no. 1 (January 1870), p. 9; Christian Observer, 1, no. 7 (July 1870) p. 110; W. M. Grant, Book of Ministries, MS, Hocken Library, Dunedin, p. 168 (20 April 1883); New Zealand Presbyterian, 1 October 1881, pp. 62-3. 46 Press (Christchurch), 30 April 1901, p. 2. 47 See W. C . Oliver, ‘Concerning the Lawful and Unlawful Use of Other Men’s Writings by Preachers’, NewZealandWesleyan, 3, no. 2 (January 1873), pp. 1-2; 1, no. 10 (October 1871) pp. 153-4; P. Barclay [note 43], pp. 203, 231; J. Dickson [note 18], p. 48 Evangelist, 1, no. 8 (August 1869), p. 23; 2, no. 4, (April 1870), p. 119; Mrs A. Daldy to Mrs Shepherd, 14 April 1905, in the Shepherd papers cited in P. Grimshaw, Womens

Suffrage in New Zealand (Auckland, 1972), p. 57. 49 Church Chronicle , June 1939, p. 243. 50 See R Barclay [note 43], p. 235 and accounts of city ministers - for example T. Bracken, Pulpit Pictures (Dunedin, 1876). 51 See D. W. Bebbington, The Non-conformist Conscience: Chapel and Politics 1870-1914 (London, 1982); and R. C. White & C. H. Hopkins, The Social Gospel: Religion and Reform in Changing America, (Philadelphia, 1976). These analyses deserve careful reflection, and have more in common than realised. The argument of L. H. Barber in his thesis ‘The Social Crusader: James Gibb at the Australasian Pastoral Frontier 1882-1935’, (Ph. D. thesis in History, Massey University, 1975) presenting Gibb as an advocate of the ‘social gospel’ on the ‘urban frontier’ too neatly fits Gibb within an American extreme.

52 K . P . Clements, ‘The Churches and Social Policy: A Study in the Relationship of Ideology to Action’, (Ph. D. thesis in Sociology, Victoria University of Wellington, 1970), p. 217. 53 See A. R. Grigg, ‘The Attack on the Citadels of Liquordom: a Study of the Prohibition Movement in New Zealand 1894-1914’ (Ph. D. thesis in History, University of Otago 1977), p. 29, and Griggs article, ‘Prohibition, the Church and Labour: a Programme for Social Reform, 1890-1914’, New Zealand Journal ofHistory, 15 (1981),pp. 135-154. 54 Rev J. Preston reported in New Zealand Wesleyan, 1, no. 11, (December 1871), p. 173. 55 SeeJ. Buller, The Christian Patriot (Wellington, 1857). 56 See Outlook, 20 July 1901, p 5. One of the strongest forms of this doctrine came from British Israelites, who were very active in nineteenth-century Auckland. See H. W. Farnall, The Severance of Church and State in Britain an Impossibility (Auckland, 1882), especially p. 4.

57 L. H. Barber,‘The Social Crusader’[note 51], pp. 130-134, 163, 190. For contemporary arguments of this kind see A. R. Fitchett, Bible in State Schools League: Bishop Cleary and other Objectors Answered (Dunedin, 1913). 58 Rome in Politics: A Lecture on the Manifesto of the Catholic Bishops (Auckland, 1892), p 16. 59 National Archives (Wellington), sth series, 23 pp. 652-3: Under-Secretary of Justice, R. G. Fountain, to R. M., Nelson, 22 February 1875. 60 Various Letters concerninq a Religious Controversy (Auckland, 1859), pp. 16,27; I. Harding, Roman Catholicism: A Letter to Colonel Thomas Gore Brown C.B. Governor-in-Chief (Auckland, 1859). 61 See S. J. O’Malley, Secular and Christian Civilisation (Dunedin 1880); Bishop F. Redwood, pastoral on bible reading, (Wellington, [1921]), p. 4, and for analysis, J. H. Mcllwrick, ‘Bishop Moran and the 1877 Education Act’ (Honours dissertation in History, Otago University, 1974), p 23. 62 Alexander Turnbull Library Micro MS 747: T. S. Forsaith, Autobiographical Memoirs, p. 1136. Forsaith was a member of the House of Representatives.

63 Lyttleton Times, 19 October 1882, p. 5; 20 October 1882, p. 5, reporting a concern of the Dunedin Anglican Synod. 64 T. S. Forsaith [note 62], pp. 974, 1053. See also J. Dickson [note 18], p. 112. 65 T. F. Robertson, Patriotic Church Union and Co-Operation (Auckland, 1891), p. 3. 66 There has been no major account of this campaign, but the clearest analysis is in Barber [note 51], chapter 5. For an early case for it, see for example Evangelist, 3, no. 6 (June 1871), pp 161-3. 67 H. R. Rae, Religious Instruction in State Schools (Hokitika, 1878), p. 3. See also T. A. Williams, ‘ The Bible in Schools’ Question: The Case for the Other Side (n. pi., ca 1902), pp. 9-10. 68 New Zealand Wesleyan, 2, no. 18 (June 1872), pp. 89-90. For similar arguments see Lyttleton Times, 5 April 1872, p. 3; 8 April 1872, p. 2; 10 April 1872, pp. 2-3.