Governor Grey and Bishop Selwyn were out together on a walking expedition, and it was Easter Sunday.  ‘Christ has risen!’ Selwyn reverently welcomed the day, and his companion joined, ‘Indeed He has.’  They were communing in that spirit when a bundle of letters, sent from Auckland to intercept them, was brought into the tent.  One to Selwyn bore the news of the death of Siapo, who had become a Christian under his teaching, and who was being educated with other natives, at his seminary in Auckland.

The Bishop, overcome with grief, burst into tears; then broke some moments of silence with the words, ’Why, you have not shed a single tear!’

‘No,’ said Sir George, ’I have been so wrapped in thought that I could not weep.  I have been thinking of the prophecy that men of every race were to be assembled in the kingdom of heaven.  I have tried to imagine the wonder and joy prevailing there, at the coming of Siapo, the first Christian of his race.  He would be glad evidence that another people of the world, had been added to the teaching of Christ.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Selwyn remarked, drying his tears, ’that is the true idea to entertain, and I shall not cry any more.’  What a touching incident!  It shows us the depth of feeling which united Governor and Bishop.  Only Sir George’s version ran, ’It illustrated Selwyn’s great, good heart.  Stalwart, quite the muscular Christian, he had the simple heart of the child.  He was a man entirely devoted to his duty, counting nothing of trouble or reward.  We worked hand in hand.  During an illness in New Zealand, I drew out a constitution, such as I believed would best suit the Church of England there.  Broadly, it came into operation, and in a speech, when he was leaving New Zealand, Selwyn told of its origin.’

You seek life pictures, rather than any chronology of dates, and therefore to a second incident of Sir George and Selwyn on tramp.  They were in the Taupo range of mountains, and their supply of food had run very short.  By the borders of Lake Taupo they sighted the house of a Maori chief who, being absent, had shut it up.  Believing he might find inside a stay to their wants, Sir George forced the door, and after that a cupboard.  In it were rice and sugar and other supplies, which he exhibited to Selwyn with the triumphant shout, ’Here, I’ll make you a present of all this!’

‘I’m afraid,’ the Bishop gently remonstrated, ’that there will be trouble about our doings.  You see we have really broken into somebody’s house.’

‘Oh, no,’ Sir George reassured him, ’I know the chief who owns the place, and he would give us part of himself.’  On the following day they met the chief, as he was returning home at the head of a string of his men.  Sir George informed him of the straits to which he and the Bishop had been put, and of what they had done, and received this approval, ’Well, that was like true friends, and I’m so glad you did it!’