Art LIII.—Our Earliest Settlers. By R. C. Barstow. [Read before the Auckland Institute, 30th November, 1882.] I Must commence by giving a definition of the word “settlers.” I do not mean “colonists” thereby, because at the time of which I am about to speak, the notion of forming a colony in New Zealand,—(by colony, I understand a body of people transplanted from the parent state, but remaining in more or less subjection to it),—had not entered into men's minds; nor do I yet mean the first white people who came by chance to be dwellers in these islands, for these were, with one exception, runaway convicts from New South Wales and deserters from ships,—the former seeking to regain their liberty, the latter either disgusted at their treatment on board ship, or perchance beguiled from their duty by the blandishments of Maori maidens. To these classes may be added a few notorious miscreants whom masters of vessels, for their own safety, had put on shore. But the people of whom I am about to speak, were those who came here deliberately with the intention of remaining for years or for life. Their last survivor has but recently passed away. These islands were first made generally known to Europe owing to Tasman's having anchored off the southern one so long ago as the year 1642. The hostility of the numerous inhabitants deterred him from attempting to land, but we owe to this visit the name which our country still retains, “New Zealand.” We have no record of its having been again visited until Cook in 1769 reached its shores from Tahiti; but from this, and his two subsequent voyages hither, can be traced every successive step which has led to making New Zealand what we now see it to be. Through Cook became known its extent, populousness, fertility of its land, the excellence of its harbours, whilst upon the other hand the natives acquired pigs and potatoes, at the same time becoming acquainted with the uses of iron and firearms. We shall see presently the consequences of these so diverse subjects. The accounts of Captain Cook's voyages led to two schemes of very different characters,—the one being the formation of a penal settlement at Port Jackson in 1788 by Captain Phillip with some 750 convicts; the other, the despatch by the London Missionary Society of a body of missionaries in 1796 to Tahiti, in the ship “Duff;” of this party a Mr. and Mrs. Henry

were still living when I was at Tahiti in 1844. Each of these expeditions had an influence upon our own land: Sydney, by the influx of settlers and convicts, rapidly became populous; ere long vessels were built there, and trading or exploring voyages undertaken. Those colonists were early stimulated to engage in the whaling trade, which London merchants, aroused by the narratives of Wallis, Carteret, and Cook, by the beginning of this century were pushing in the southern hemisphere (French privateers having rendered cruising in the north too hazardous); and both English and colonial whale-ships soon began to resort to New Zealand for wood and water, pork and potatoes, these latter already abundant from Cook's introduction of them. A life of adventure and excitement was congenial to Maori temperament; they shipped for a cruise, usually with a proviso that their discharge should take place at the port of departure, a stipulation too often disregarded when its execution was inconvenient to the master. Indeed, a New South Wales Governor (Macquarie) found it necessary to issue a proclamation against kidnapping New Zealanders and making them serve as sailors against their will. In these modes some Maoris found their way both to London and Sydney; whilst to this nearer port others went in trading vessels as passengers, being intent upon procuring axes and iron tools, but more especially covetous of the possession of firearms, whose deadly effects they had seen in all their early communications with the whites. Cook, a fairly humane man, had shot seven in his first week in New Zealand; and three years later Marion du Fresne, in retaliation for the slaughter of some of his crew, attacked a pa at the Bay of Islands and shot a large number of its inhabitants. Many years back I tried to find out when the northern natives first became possessed of guns, and put the question to an aged chief of Ngatiwai hapu—the same people who had come into collision with Marion. He had not heard of any guns being captured when the Frenchmen were killed at Manawaora, but told me that he had helped to get the first gun that he knew of their possessing. He said that a party of sailors had landed some casks to get water, and, as it was cold, had made a fire to warm themselves by whilst the water was running by a spout into the casks. One of the crew walked up and down with a musket, as a sentinel, showing that amicable relations with the islanders could not be trusted to, but as no Maoris were visible he rested his gun against the steep bank of the gully, walked to the fire and, warming his hands, chatted to his comrades. Three young natives had, however, been watching the movements of the sailors, and marking the opportunity, one of them crept from his

concealment in the scrub, and, unobserved, possessed himself of the prize, which the three then hurried away with. For some time subsequently a warrior of the hapu always carried this piece in front of his war party as an “intimidator” to the enemy, though the mode of using it was quite unknown to them. This must have happened prior to the destruction of the ship “Boyd,” as the northern natives acquired then a considerable number of firearms, and had already learned their use, but must have been long after Captain Furneaux's boat's crew was cut off. Several of his party were armed. The northern natives might not have even heard of that event, as owing to the incessant hostilities prevailing amongst the people news would not reach far, and that tragedy happened on the South Island. As far as I know, a Whangarei native, named Moehanga, was the first Maori who reached England, whither he was taken by a Mr. Savage in 1805. Moehanga was there looked upon as a great curiosity, and was presented to George III.; many useful articles were given him, and the Government sent him back to Sydney, whence he was forwarded to the Bay of Islands. Although Moehanga had a well tattooed face, he was a man of no importance: he was therefore soon bereft by his superiors in rank of the goods and tools with which he had been supplied, and incurred besides the too common misfortune of travellers, of being pointed out as a man who told such marvellous stories that he was deemed to be porangi, or insane. To Sydney—Port Jackson as it was then generally called—Maoris had found their way much earlier. Captain King took two chiefs over in 1793, and a year or so later Te Pahi, chief of Rangihoua, a pa near the north head of the Bay of Islands, with several of his sons, went thither. As Te Pahi was favourably spoken of by the masters of whale ships and traders, he was made a good deal of by the Governor. An eager desire for cultivating trade in flax, timber for spars, salt pork, or any other return cargo for convict ships, existed, and it was hoped that by his means commerce of that kind might be developed. Te Pahi and family were conveyed back in a government vessel. Mr. Marsden, the Colonial Chaplain, had taken a great interest in him, and, during his stay at Paramatta, had managed to learn a few words of the Maori language. Te Pahi visited Sydney again some eight or ten years later. By this time the success of the London Missionary Society at Tahiti had become known, and Mr. Marsden, stimulated by the accounts received thence, thought that a favourable opportunity now presented itself for a similar undertaking in this country. With this view he took Te Pahi to

his house, keeping him there for some months, partly with a desire to instruct him in the doctrines of Christianity and convert him, and thus open up a way for further operations amongst his people, and partly that he himself might learn from his guest something more of the language and customs of the inhabitants of these islands. Mr. Marsden, indeed, made a promise that ere long he would pay Te Pahi a return visit. With this object, amongst others, Mr. Marsden obtained leave of absence and returned to the mother country, where he with some difficulty prevailed upon the Church Missionary Society to look favourably on his project, and to promise him £500 a year for its support. He induced a Mr. Kendall, by profession a school-master, but a man of some means and imbued with a love of adventure, to join in the undertaking, and to become a missionary to New Zealand. Mr. Marsden was ordered by the Government to return in the ship “Ann,” and, after being on board a few days, found there a sick Maori named Tuatara, who having been buffetted about from one whaleship to another for some four years, was now trying to get back to his wife and family in New Zealand. He turned out to be a nephew of Te Pahi, and a denizen of the same place. This gave Mr. Marsden a further opportunity of increasing his Maori learning, of which he was not slow to avail himself. This he could do with more effect, as during his voyages Tuatara had picked up a good deal of English. Mr. Kendall did not accompany Mr. Marsden, but two other persons did so,—Mr. Hall, a builder; and Mr. King, a shoemaker, both under engagement to the society. The former, I believe, married just prior to sailing, and brought out his wife with him. On the arrival of their ship at Sydney, in February, 1810, they were met with the news of the massacre of the crew and passengers of the ship “Boyd,” in Whangaroa Harbour. I dare say that many of you have heard the story, still as it may be unknown to some, and the event bore materially upon the train of affairs which I am now narrating to you, I feel that I am not digressing in giving a brief account of the matter as it has come to me, partly from a participator in it. Captain Thompson, of the ship “Boyd,” of some 500 tons, fell in at Sydney with two Whangaroa natives, and as his ship was bound home with some passengers and but little cargo, gladly acceded to their suggestion of calling at that place for a quantity of spars, which they undertook to procure for him; they themselves agreeing to work their passages down. In the course of the voyage, one of these natives, Hori by name, being ordered by the captain to do some work aloft, made the

excuse that he was sick, and being threatened with a flogging if he continued his refusal, pleaded that he was a chief and should not be so treated. Flogged he was though. The ship arrived safely at Whangaroa, the natives were allowed to land, and next day returned on board to take the captain to see the spars; meanwhile Hori had told his people of the indignity put upon him. Captain Thompson, with two boats crews, were guided by the Maoris some five miles from the ship up the Kaeo River, and after landing were led into the kahikatea bush which grows near the banks. An onslaught was made upon them, and every man slain. The natives, after putting on the sailors' clothes, pulled down in the dusk to the ship, which they surprised—Hori answering the sentry's hail—except some few sailors, who took refuge in the rigging, a Mrs. Morley and child, a girl named Braughton, and the cabin boy. All on board were ruthlessly killed that night; the sailors were shot next morning; but the other four, who had shown compassion towards Hori after his flogging, were spared. They were afterwards given up to a party of Bay of Islands natives, of whom Tamati Waka was one, taken over thither, kindly treated, and put on board the first vessel bound for Sydney. Altogether seventy souls belonging to the ship perished in this sad affair, but more lives yet were lost in consequence of it. Unfortunately for himself, Te Pahi was at Whangaroa when the tragedy took place. He subsequently asserted that he was altogether ignorant of the attack at Kaeo, having been at a distant part of the harbour, but hearing of the capture of the vessel, went on board, and did his best to prevail upon the natives to spare the surviving sailors, but without avail, and thereupon returned disgusted to his own place at the bay. The tidings quickly spread, and reaching the captain of a whale-ship lying at the bay, he at once put to sea. Shortly after, falling in off the coast with several other ships, the crews, upon hearing the news, determined upon revenge, and learning Te Pahi had been at the scene of slaughter, manning their boats, pulled in at night and attacked a pa, situated on a small islet opposite to Rangihoua, in which Te Pahi usually lived. Except Te Pahi himself and one other man, every native in the pa was killed, and these two were wounded, the former whilst swimming ashore being struck by a musket ball fired at him by a lad who was keeping one of the boats. Te Pahi died from the wound within a year, and thus Mr. Marsden lost his most powerful and trusty supporter. It seems probable, judging from the partiality shown by Te Pahi to the pakeha, that his story was the correct one, and that he suffered owing to the similarity of his name to that of Hori's brother, Te Puhi, who undoubtedly was one of the ringleaders in the bloody affair; but it is certain

that Te Pahi's people participated in the plunder of the ship, for some was found in his pa; earrings were made of dollars captured in the “Boyd,” and being worn far and wide among the natives served for years after as memorials of the catastrophe. The destruction of Te Pahi's people was not the only retribution received by the natives, as twenty-one were blown up by the explosion of a quantity of gunpowder, which, having been accidentally wetted, they were drying on one of the ship's sails. The only survivor of that party narrated that, whilst they were all sitting round the powder, one stated that it was dry enough, another contradicted him, and, after a few words more, threw the ashes out of his pipe into the powder, and thus put the dispute to the proof; the survivor, though blown up, escaped by falling into the water. A figtree on the bank of the Kaeo, near Mr. Nisbet's house, used, in my time, to mark the site of the hangi in which Captain Thompson and his boats' crews were cooked. A fragment of the “Boyd” and one of her guns are in our Museum. Another gun is in the crater of a volcano at Pakaraka. I have seen at low water some of her timbers in Whangaroa Harbour, though the upper works of the ship were accidentally burned. Of course this sad business entirely disconcerted all Mr. Marsden's plans. Tuatara he took to his own house, keeping him there some nine months, (as at first a Maori was hardly safe in Sydney streets), when he left, pledging himself to come and fetch Mr. Marsden and party whenever it should be safe for them to live in New Zealand. Messrs. Hall and King went to work at their trades, and did well. Mr. Kendall's departure from England was countermanded for a time. Matters continued in abeyance for a couple of years, when, the excitement provoked by these unfortunate incidents having been allayed, Tuatara, who had succeeded to Te Pahi's authority, thought the white men would be safe, and shortly afterwards came over himself to escort the party. By this time Mr. Kendall and family had arrived at Sydney, and after a consultation it was determined that a small vessel should be chartered, in which Messrs. Kendall and Hall could make a voyage to New Zealand with Tuatara, ostensibly upon a trading speculation, but with instructions to carefully observe the disposition of the people, and also to induce a few leading natives to return to Sydney with them. The voyage was prosperous, and a favourable report of the Maori disposition towards their pakeha visitors put fresh life into their projects. Tuatara and two companions gladly availed themselves of this chance, and as in his several voyages Tuatara had now learned a good deal of English, he was employed in teaching the future missionaries something of his language. One of Tuatara's comrades on this voyage was

Hongi, who some years afterwards became notorious or illustrious by the bloody wars which he waged throughout the Northern Island. It has been computed that 30,000 lives were lost during his campaigns. These did not commence till 1820, after Hongi's return from a journey to England, during which he acquired a considerable stock of arms and ammunition; to the Mission, however, he always proved a staunch friend. It was not until November, 1814, that the expedition was fully equipped, and the brig “Active” sailed from Sydney, carrying “our earliest settlers” to this country. The ship's company of nine had among it two Maoris, and as many South Sea Islanders, whilst the passengers, besides Tuatara, Hongi and Korakora with five other Maoris, were Mr. and Mrs. Hall and child, Mr. and Mrs. Kendall and three children, Mr. and Mrs. King and one child. This child, Philip, was in after years Clerk and Interpreter to the Resident Magistrate's Court, at Waiuku, and died there a year ago, having been the last survivor of the “Active's” party. These three families formed the Mission Staff; three assigned convict servants were allowed by the New South Wales Government to be allotted to them. There were on board besides, Mr. Marsden himself, a Mr. Nicholas, and Thomas Hansen, the son of the captain. These three returned in the “Active” to Sydney, but the last, Hansen, who was Mrs. King's brother, came back to the Bay of Islands with a young wife early in 1815, and from that time till his death, not ten years ago, at the age of eighty-nine, never once again left the bay. After calling at the North Cape, the vessel anchored amongst the Cavalli Islands. There Messrs. Marsden and Kendall with the chiefs landed, and met Hori with a war-party of two hundred men. They passed their first night ashore with the people who five years before had killed and eaten the “Boyd's” crew and passengers. True they now had the three chiefs with them as protectors. On the 19th December, 1814, the “Active” reached the Bay of Islands and came-to in front of Rangihoua. It is hardly possible for any person who has landed in New Zealand during the last twenty years to form a correct conception of the habits and numbers of the natives even twenty years further back; but Auckland early settlers can call to mind the mat-clad people who hawked about fish, potatoes, etc., and the incessant going to and fro of canoes, some even still retaining their quaint raupo sails; but then the Maoris all professed Christianity, and intertribal wars had all but ceased; the pakeha too had become numerous, though not sufficiently so as to have the effect of overawing the aborigines. But can any of us picture to ourselves the state of affairs existing when “our earliest settlers” landed? In the first place the Maoris were four or five times more than now, the population in the north especially being very dense. Every hill-top, peninsula, or small island, was

converted into a pa as a place of defence not only against strangers, but perhaps from its nearest neighbours: the men were all regularly trained to fight, made to run, wrestle, paddle so as to be in active condition, taught the use of weapons for both offence and defence; in short war was their delight, and any cause however trivial was eagerly sought as an excuse for waging it; the slain were almost invariably cooked and eaten. The Europeans with whom they had come in contact were not of a class calculated to make themselves either loved or respected, a few runaway sailors or convicts being the only whites living on shore; whilst the treatment which the natives received from the masters of whaling or trading vessels, when powerful enough to get their own way, may be gathered from the terms of the instructions of Governor Macquarie, when he appointed Mr. Kendall the first Resident Magistrate in New Zealand, in November, 1814: —“Whereas it has been represented to His Excellency the Governor that commanders and seamen of vessels touching at or trading with the Islands of New Zealand, more especially at the Bay of Islands, have been in the habit of offering gross insult and injury to the natives of those places by violently seizing on and carrying off several of them, both men and women, and treating them in other respects with injudicious and unwarrantable severity, to the great prejudice of the fair intercourse of trade, which might otherwise be productive of mutual advantages.” The same instructions also declared that no sailors should be discharged or left behind at the bay, or natives shipped thereat, without the written consent of one of the three chiefs Tuatara, Hongi, or Korakora. Between bloodthirstiness on the one side, and lawlessness on the other, what slight prospects existed of peaceful relations for defenceless immigrants! Our “settlers” brought with them sheep, cattle, horses, goats, poultry of all kinds, tools, seeds both for their own use and for their new friends. The chiefs on board, too, had a horse or cow apiece, so that landing and securing their live stock became their first care. Raupo whares were put up for themselves, and another set apart for their goods; two of the assigned men were sawyers, the third a smith, and the Kawakawa natives having engaged to fall logs for building the projected houses and church at Ohi, (which was in close proximity to Rangihoua), and also for cargo for the brig, an excursion was made in her to the Thames by Mr. Marsden. Trouble soon began, for though the native men were only annoying by their curiosity, the women, who even then were not famed for virtue, caused a jealous feeling by their attempts at over-intimacy. The “Active,” with Mr. Marsden and Mr. Nicholas, left at the end of February, with a good

many logs,—kahikatea, I should think, from the place at which they were cut; and as her speedy return was anticipated, several natives took passage by her. She conveyed back to Sydney also five runaway convicts (four men and one woman), who had, escaping the search of the Sydney police, managed to find their way to New Zealand as stowaways. Two of these men had been some months among the Maoris in a state of semi-starvation, and voluntarily gave themselves up; the other three arrived whilst the “Active” was at the bay, and were handed over by the master of the vessel in which they had come. One stowaway had been found on board the “Active” herself, but he made his escape into the bush, and was afterwards the cause of much annoyance to our settlers by endeavouring to prejudice the people against them. Two notable events occurred prior to the “Active's” sailing, which I must not forget to mention: the birth of the first white child, Mrs. King's second boy—he died in infancy; the other the purchase on behalf of the Church Mission from a native named Kuna of 200 acres of land situate between Rangihoua and Tepuna. This was intended to be a model farm, from which, whilst the Mission establishment would provide themselves with needful food and pasture for their animals, the Maoris might learn more ready and profitable modes of culture than then in use amongst them, the ko, or wooden spade, being a very inefficient implement. They already had tried to grow wheat and maize, but in very small quantities, having no means of grinding or dressing the grain, and, therefore, being unable to utilize the produce for food; steeping it was a later idea. The native chief Tuatara, at whose settlement the Mission had been located, was seized with a violent fever and died a few days after Mr. Marsden sailed. This was a serious matter for our new folk, as their other two friends, Hongi and Korakora, then lived respectively at Waimate, and at Paroa on the south side of the bay. Tuatara's brother became nominal chief of Rangihoua, pending the majority of a daughter of Te Pahi, but he wanted both the power and inclination to protect the new comers efficiently. The “Active” came back in May; the captain's son, Thomas Hansen, who was Mrs. King's brother, had married at Sydney, and brought his bride with him to settle down, but not as a member of the Mission. I knew both these people well. A daughter, born to them in the following year, married the master of a ship, (Capt. Lethbridge), and when left a widow returned to the bay, where she yet resides, the first-born white of this colony as well as its earliest surviving resident. She has been for years a grendmother, and ere this may have seen a further generation of descendants.

Two mistakes were made at the first establishment of the Mission; the site chosen, and the mode of support. Ohi, close to Rahigihoua pa, was the beach from which all Ngapuhi war-parties setting forth southwards took their departure, and to which after their expedition they returned. On these occasions many hundred natives from various parts of the north were congregated together in a state of excitement and frenzy, subject to no control; even the people of the place itself at such seasons became utterly wild. I have already said that the Church Missionary Society only voted £500 a year for the maintenance of its youngest child. This obviously was too small a sum for maintaining three families, and for also providing means of communication with Sydney. To supplement the manifest deficiency, trade was to be resorted to. This would have been well enough had it been confined to merely purchasing for nails, fish-hooks, axes, blankets, etc., such pork and potatoes as were needful for local consumption; but Mr. Marsden's scheme went further: the missionaries were to employ their blacksmith in making implements as barter for flax and for pine logs, which the sawyers were to cut up. After the settlers' own requirements had been satisfied, the remainder was to be shipped for sale, the profit made to go to the Mission funds. This procedure on the part of our friends rendered them obnoxious to masters of trading vessels bent upon a similar errend, who did their best or worst to depreciate them in the esteem of the Maoris, whilst the Maoris themselves, more eager to procure arms and ammunition than more useful goods, could not understand why people trading in one article would not deal in another. This class of trade had been expressly prohibited by instructions from home. The profits made by this sort of business were so large that one of our three first settlers was tempted to enter into it surreptitiously on his own account, and being detected, was expelled from the Mission. Another cause tended after a time to make the party unpopular—their very properly inveighing against the immoralities practised by the crews of vessels frequenting the bay. Many of the chiefs derived large gains from this nefarious business. Although at first and for some months our settlers suffered no further annoyance than was caused by the inquisitiveness and filth of their visitors—their dwellings being thronged from daylight to dark by guests who left too much insect life behind them—yet matters soon grew worse. Natives coveted some of the pakeha's possessions, and when begging failed, occasionally force was resorted to, though sometimes successfully resisted. Then their place was made tapu, and no one could deal with them, so that they were nearly starved out; once being rescued from this fate by the accidental arrival of a ship. Mr. King has been obliged to barricade his

house, whilst hundreds of infuriated savages danced a war-dance in front. Next he had his cattle killed. The wretched slaves brought from marauding expeditions were killed and cooked as near as possible to his house, the heads placed upon, and the viscera thrown over, his fence. At one period he attempted to rescue these unfortunates by exchanging them for blankets or axes, but he found it impossible to provide for them afterwards; besides which the natives imposed upon him by making the necessary fire, shouting and yelling over the bound body of a young girl, as if just about to immolate her, and when his feelings of humanity were so wrought upon that he could not refrain from redeeming the captive at the cost of nearly his last blanket, he found himself jeered at,—the pretended victim being one of their own people. The most powerful chief in near proximity to them was Tareha, after whom the eastern branch of the Kerikeri estuary, known on the charts as Mongonui, was usually termed by old settlers “Tareha's River.” This man was a monster both in size and cruelty. I never saw him, but knew well his son and successor Wi Kingi Tareha, who, when he first paid me a visit, came crawling on his hands and knees, his legs refusing to bear the weight of his body. On a later occasion, when he wished to point out the site of a piece of ground near Russell which I had been instructed to have purchased, though he had only half a mile of nearly level ground to traverse, he used two stout young fellows as human crutches, one under each arm. In height he stood between 6 feet 1 inch and 6 feet 2 inches, and weighed about 36 stone; yet I am told that he was a mere chicken to his father, who, having upon one occasion been hoisted on board a whale ship, after having devoured a leg of pork and drunk a bucket of the cook's slush, consented, for a consideration in tobacco, to allow himself to be weighed. A seat was fitted for him, and, the steelyards having been attached to a tackle, he was raised up; but, alas! ineffectually, as the steelyards were only graduated to 600 lbs., and were inadequate to perform the requisite operation. I have heard many wonderful stories of his voracity, but of his cruelty I had one from an eye-witness. Tareha was sitting on a large stone with a small fire in front of him, when he called for some water; the calabash was empty, and, as he only drank water from a spring a mile away, he told a woman near to fetch some. She made the excuse that she was nursing a child. “Give it to me,” said the savage. When the woman returned with the water the monster was munching the arms of the child, which, after dashing upon the stone, he had frizzled upon the fire before him. To escape some of their miseries the members of the Mission got houses built at Tepuna on the land which they had bought, and where Hohaia

Waikato, who shortly after went to England with Hongi, gave them his protection. This old chief was one of my assessors, and was alive till within a very few years ago. The Mission was strengthened in 1819 by the advent of Mr. Kemp and party, and in the following year Hongi on his return from England gave them a site at the head of the Kerikeri, near his own new pa, on which more permanent buildings were erected, and for some years constituted the head-quarters, though Mr. King always resided at Tepuna; and one of the Hansen family is, I believe, living there now. I believe that Messrs. Kendall and Hall have left no representatives in this colony. King and Hansen had large families. I have known four sons and as many daughters of the former, of whom six still survive, but I think that there are only five or six of the next generation, and not very many of the fourth; but the descendants of the Hansens must by this time reach close upon, if they do not extend beyond, 100 in number. Although some of these have moved to other countries, by far the majority remain in the land in which their ancestor was one of the earliest settlers 68 years ago. Good cause have we pakehas to be proud of those intrepid men, who, not in the hope of any earthly gain, ventured not merely their own lives, but those of their wives and children amongst a multitude of truculent savages; who for years endured every species of anxiety and misery; who, by patience and perseverance, converted the natives to, at the least, nominal Christianity with its concomitant civilization, and thus commenced paving the way for New Zealand becoming what it now is—a safe and prosperous dwelling place for so many thousands of our race. On the other side, the Maori one, as to the effects of European civilization upon their people, hear what an old chief replied to my question: “Suppose white people had never come here?” The aged warrior paused, and then apostrophized:—“I see an old man standing on the look-out post of lofty Te Ranga's vacant pa. He strains his eyes, peering in every direction, no sign of human being, no uprising smoke meets his gaze, and thus he cries to himself: ‘nobody, nobody, not one, alas, not one! Days have passed since last I tasted the sweetness of human flesh; is it all finished? One thing at least—no one survives to consign my body to the hangi.’”