Ultima Thule

Thomas Cholmondeley

First published by John Chapman in 1854

Digitised and made available online by the University of Auckland Libraries and Learning Services.

Epub © 2013 Early New Zealand Books Collection

ISBN 978-1-927288-00-9

[TITLE PAGE]

ULTIMA THULE;

OR,

THOUGHTS

SUGGESTED BY

A RESIDENCE IN NEW ZEALAND.

BY
THOMAS CHOLMONDELEY.

LONDON:
JOHN CHAPMAN, 142, STRAND.

M.DCCC.LIV.

[TITLE VERSO]

LONDON: PRINTED BY WOODFALL AND KINDER,
ANGEL COURT, SKINNER STREET.

[CONTENTS]

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
A NEW NATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

CHAPTER II.
ENGLISH PEOPLING OF NEW ZEALAND . . . . . . . . .6

CHAPTER III.
NATURAL EXTENSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19

CHAPTER IV.
IMMIGRATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24

CHAPTER V.
MIGRATION AS REGARDS ITS SOURCE . . . . . . . . 31

CHAPTER VI.
EMIGRANT AND COLONIST . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41

CHAPTER VII.
THE LOSS INCURRED BY ONE WHO LEAVES HIS COUNTRY 51

CHAPTER VIII.
THE CAPITALIST SETTLER . . . . . . . . . . . . .55

CHAPTER IX.
THE MAN OF SKILL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .70

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER X.
THE COMMON LABOURER AND THE GENTLEMAN . . . . . 77

CHAPTER XI
ON THE DISPOSAL OF WILD LANDS . . . . . . . . . 93

CHAPTER XII.
AGRICULTURE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .116

CHAPTER XIII.
PASTURE LANDS AND THEIR PRODUCE . . . . . . . .132

CHAPTER XIV.
EXPORTS GENERALLY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .147

CHAPTER XV.
REVENUE, INCOME AND EXPENDITURE . . . . . . . .156

CHAPTER XVI.
THE MAORIES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .187

CHAPTER XVII.
ON THE CONSTITUTION OF NEW ZEALAND . . . . . . 218

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE CHURCH IN NEW ZEALAND . . . . . . . . . . .249

CHAPTER XIX.
SOCIETY AND ITS INSTITUTIONS . . . . . . . . . 291

CHAPTER XX.
THOUGHTS ON THE HISTORY OF NEW ZEALAND . . 326-344

CHAPTER I. A NEW NATION.

ULTIMA THULE.

CHAPTER I.

A NEW NATION.

1. Influences of a new country.

A NEW country ought to produce new thoughts. Not only does it commence a new chapter in the book of the world, but it actually gives a new form and a new connection to the life and dealings of before-existing nations.

A new country introduces a new element perhaps, but, at the very least, a new item into all former calculations. It is a change, but it is generally more. It is often the introduction of specific difference besides and beyond mere addition.

Even the discovery of a new region exercises a vast influence upon the old world; much more, then, the birth and beginnings of a people. It is a new step on the floor – a fresh life sent from Heaven – a repetition of the greatest miracle on the greatest scale.

2. Creation and renovation.

As an act of creation, it is wonderful; as an act of renovation and reformation, it is more than wonderful, for it touches the deep sympathies and affections of mankind.

The early commonwealths of the world may be regarded with simple awe as so many direct acts of creation. How plainly this appears in the beginnings of the nations of Moses and Lycurgus! "The Lord said unto Moses" argues direct and immediate influence. And the speech of the Oracle to Lycurgus associates him with the Divine Powers:

"Thou art come, Lycurgus, to my stately bounteous shrine,
Dear to highest Heaven, dear to all the Powers Divine:
God or man, I know not how thy destiny to read,
Which thou art; but let me rather count thee God indeed."

But when the new nation is grafted upon the material stock of a colony, the wonder of the Promethean spark seems smaller. It appears to wane out of observation before another light – a light borrowed from some older community. This last leads us back towards ordinary life; and, as the wonder lessens, the other passions grow. We now glory in the new nation, as being the work of men like ourselves; forgetting that we can never be more than instruments and auxiliaries of some higher will.

In the first, God awakes life through a hero; in the second, He transmits it by means of some

more ordinary machinery. The two greatest rising nations of the day are examples.

Russia first became possessed of a soul through the great work of the Czar Peter. America, on the other hand, has been gradually made out of England, without the decided preponderating energies of any single man. For as to Washington, we can very easily imagine America without him; but can any one imagine Russia without Peter?

3. Alliance of interest.

Whenever a nation arises, there is evidently a desire and an effort of Nature to cast and form afresh the rude mass of mankind; but where a nation arises under charge of another, proceeding from its side, Nature is attempting to recast and reform some work which she deems too valuable to fling aside, until it has produced its like. In this attempt the most extraordinary combinations take place – strong affinities, strong antipathies. The likeness between the old and the new nation may be wonderful, the contrast no less so. Their connection is in itself a study. They assist each other and struggle together alternately. We see all this in its perfection in Graham's or Bancroft's "History of the United States of America." There we may read of the States in their earliest infancy; nay, in Lucas's collection of Charters, we may study the construction of their cradles – how the first constitutions began to be made.

In New Zealand, as it stands at present, we are permitted to behold the earliest beginnings

of a new national life; we are invited to gaze upon this unfolding vision; nay, we are specially called upon to contemplate it, descending, as it does, upon a province or colony of our own. Not only our love of knowledge, of speculation, of comparison, is appealed to, but our desires, interests, ambitions are touched. We must feel that we have a stake in the future nation; that in our present protectorship, duties and expectations go hand in hand.

4. Action and reaction.

The possession of a great colony is like a pledge of a new life. There we may renew ourselves. For as a colony derives much of its strength and light from the history, tradition, language, laws, and feelings of the mother-country, so she may reasonably look for and obtain a filial benefit from her offspring in return for her nursing care. The contests with which we are so sadly familiar in our old country, may be, under more propitious circumstances, successfully fought out on a new soil. Dangers which never can be escaped, obstacles which can never be surmounted here, may have no existence there. New faculties may be bestowed upon us; fresh energy radiated from the inventive and constructive genius of a young society, as yet unbent by conventionalities, unbroken by excess.

Virgil, in his great political poem, has accordingly married the two interests. "Antiquam exquirete matrem" is the direction given to the scarce weaned Dardan emigrant. And if the great

arts of life, religion, economy, government, stand in a peculiar relation to the beginning and early development of a nation, they also in their new forms produce a certain reaction upon the customs and ways of the old-fashioned world.

In a new country we may avoid our old national mistakes, and escape their retribution. Behold a clean new conscience. Here we may reap the great blessing of experience, without being any longer bowed down by the overwhelming debt of its purchase.

To no other colony does all this so forcibly apply as to the latest-born and farthest distant. No other presents a resemblance and a contrast to England so strong as New Zealand. What an empire it is which can contain the two: what an immense opportunity for mutual good exists in their relationship: what a dreadful possibility of evil!

CHAPTER II. ENGLISH PEOPLING OF NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER II.

ENGLISH PEOPLING OF NEW ZEALAND.

1. Progress of the white population in New Zealand.

THE English population of New Zealand was about 12,000 in 1846; in 1848 it was about 17,000; in 1850 it was 23,000; in 1852 it was reckoned at about 26,000, the rate of increase having been checked by the events in Australia. From this it appears to have more than doubled during Sir George Grey's administration of affairs. Had not an overwhelming attraction drawn away numbers of settlers to a neighbouring country, it is probable, from the rate of increase above given, that the white people in New Zealand would now have numbered considerably more than 30,000. Yet the discovery of gold may ultimately become of very great benefit to New Zealand.

2. Destruction of the native race; by intestine war.

There are some interesting considerations connected with the introduction of this population. Soon after the end of our great war, New Zealand began to be talked of in England. Accounts of Hongi's visit; missionary reports; adventures like Rutherford's, crept by degrees into circulation.

The imagination of my own boyhood surrounded the tattooed natives with a halo of delightful mystery. Their warlike power was tremendous; their aspect ferocious; their cruelty unutterable: unfortunate white men seldom escaped, and then only half-roasted, from their horrid orgies; their priests were wizards, and they loved the flesh of the missionaries more than any other food.

What principally struck Hongi, when in England, was the magnificence of King George, the multitude and splendour of his men-of-war, and the abundance of his swords and guns. He made up his mind that when he returned home he would become the King George of New Zealand; a determination which he afterwards carried out to the best of his power. A decidedly clever man he must have been. He managed to get supplies of muskets and ammunition by selling at Port Jackson the presents of his English friends. His warlike raids, in one of which he killed about 1500 of his enemies, were so judiciously carried on as never to derange the good understanding between him and the Church Missionary Society. Nor did the work of depopulation, which Hongi's ambition had accelerated, cease with the death of that great savage. The causes lay far deeper than the accident of individual ambition. The native ferocity of a savage race was as yet untamed when they found themselves suddenly in possession of new and extraordinary means of destruction; suddenly

exposed to overwhelming temptations, – perplexed by strange thoughts, without the safeguard of religion; suddenly enchanted by visions of wealth and power, without the check of knowledge and experience.

The shadow of the white man, yet afar off, fell like a blight upon them. The evil eye from across the ocean hit them.

For twenty years the work of extirpation went on. The north, where the mightiest warriors dwelt, preyed upon the south, which retaliated in its turn. Thousands perished. Thousands were carried away captives.

In the whole of the Middle Island, which is larger than England, there are now not above 3000 Maories.

In short, the intestine warfare of the native New Zealanders so thinned their numbers, and wore away their strength, that they became only a miserable wreck of former greatness. And thus it became comparatively easy for the Europeans, finding them weakened and divided, to gain a firm foothold among them, and ultimately to appropriate their broad lands.

3. By the proceedings of the first settlers.

Another cause of their strange decline was the introduction of European vices and habits of life, which brought disease among them. Long before any part of New Zealand was regularly settled, numbers of white men led a roving life there. Many of them were refugees from Australia. There were also large bodies of whalers, some fishing from

the shore, others coming into the harbours and bays to victual. Some of these, both American and British, became so attached to the country, that they remained there, grouping themselves together, or else dwelling with the Maories.

As the whaling-business declined by degrees, in consequence of the whale being either driven away or exterminated in waters where it formerly abounded, these settlers were obliged to betake themselves to some other occupation.

They are to be found dispersed among the colonists who have since entered the land; some acting as boatmen to carry goods from one part of the coast to another, some as shepherds or cowherds; some have acquired means of their own, generally cattle.

It is true that they are fond of the outskirts of the community, that they shun the town and village, preferring the sheep-station and the society of Maories to the intercourse and habits of civilised life. But it is also true that they are softened and reclaimed by the neighbourhood of their old countrymen, and by degrees recover their former "sense." I have myself seen this influence at work among them, for I lived for some time near the remains of one of their villages. It had once been a favourite haunt; but, when I knew it, only contained six or seven families, of which three were American, and the others from the British Islands. If they were idle and drunken, which unfortunately was the case, they certainly possessed the virtues of hos-

pitality and honesty, and the desire to become better than they had been.

The story of this knot of men is a key to the habits and fate of the scattered white population generally. They always maintained friendly relations with the Maories, who had a large and beautiful settlement on the other side of the harbour. Indeed, the New Englander and the Irishman had Maori wives, to whom they were greatly attached. They succeeded no less with the Scotch settlers, respectable farmers, who were scattered up and down the neighbourhood of Banks' Peninsula. But when the Canterbury Colony made its appearance, the land, containing their houses and gardens, was chosen by a settler, who came armed with his title among them. At one time it appeared likely that the newcomer would have been expelled; but, in the end, he managed to make good his position against them. They then pulled down their houses, sold the materials as well as they could to the farmers and labourers who were settling about them, and dispersed.

The New Englander came to live near my farm at the head of the harbour. Here he took a section of land on lease, set up his cottage, having floated up the woodwork from the other place, and went to work stoutly, clearing the ground and carrying loads of firewood to Lyttelton. Firewood was then worth twenty-two shillings a cord in the town.

The Irishman went off to Ahuriri, where he

had a cousin, leaving his wife behind him among her friends the Maories.

The Scotchman and the two British Americans (boat-builders) settled in Lyttelton. What became of the others I know not.

Hence it appears the settling of a large body of new-comers may break up and destroy smaller groups which were in the process of formation.

Such as these was the scattered white population which existed in New Zealand before it became a British colony, and such exists still in many places not yet regularly occupied. The sojourn of such people was and is more or less accidental. The manners they introduced have been tending for the last thirty years to wear away the remnant of the Maori race. This intercourse corrupted what little was sound and healthy among the natives, and enfeebled their savage vigour. Such strangers were like the irregulars who precede the advance of a disciplined army. They may be charged with the sin of aiding directly and indirectly in the work of destruction and decay: but they may plead in reply that they have produced a race of half-castes from the Maori women, which may become some day far greater than the Maories ever were.

Creation and destruction went on together. The claims for satisfaction, and the penalty of wrong-doing, centre in the same children of the next generation. Surely the various entries in the book of mankind are strangely jumbled.

Even as one man must suffer for another, and one man reap another's reward, so, too, it is with races. It is only on the whole account that the world pays its way.

4. Regular colonisation by New Zealand Company.

But since the year 1839 we have seen a Migration conducted upon calculation and plan. In 1839 – 1840, Wellington was founded, the position of which seems to mark it out as the capital of New Zealand. The plan upon which the New Zealand Company and their branch societies went, was eminently artificial; being, in this respect, entirely different from the great democratical movement which since the year 1825 has poured above 2,000,000 from this United Kingdom into the United States alone. It is evident that the originators of the New Zealand Company well understood that the country with which they had to do was too distant, and too much out of the ordinary route and westward tendency of Migration, to attract settlers, unless extraordinary inducements were held forth. But they knew that under skilful management the very distance of those islands, – their isolation, the ferocity of their inhabitants, and the wildness of their scenery, might be made to constitute an attraction.

It was to be an adventure like a romance; the colony was to boast of unexampled institutions; and pledges were to be obtained from the British Government, against any imperial interference which might impede the free growth of

the new Anglo-Saxon community. They were to be protected, but not governed; patronised, but never scolded, or set right. In short, everything was done to enlist in favour of the new colony the longing desire which really exists among the English – to have a child in their old age after their own image. And it was considered that to effect a work of this arduous kind, requiring so much careful attention, so much influence, and so much capital, the strong cement of interest was required. The Society became a Joint Stock Company.

Every class existing in the old country was to find itself represented in the new colony; there were to be various settlements for various tastes; but all resembling each other in this, that they presented some ingenious combination of advantages. It is gratifying to observe how provisions for steam communication and religious education went hand in hand in the Nelson variety. Again, national and congregational sympathies were enlisted in the adventure. New Plymouth was for the west of England: Otago for the Scotch, with a Free-Church front to it. There was at one time (I understand) a plan for a great Irish Roman Catholic province with its full complement of priests; while Protestant opposition, judiciously roused, might have been induced, it was thought, to plant a rival Methodist settlement by its side. This project, however, although it rested upon a shrewd appreciation of the advantages to be obtained by a proper management

of sectarian rivalry, died in its cradle. The last and greatest invention was the Canterbury scheme; for it will be found upon inquiry that both Otago and Canterbury were offshoots of the New Zealand Company. They were branch concerns, carried on under a judicious change of name and management.

All this was the work of many years; during which the Company, through its agents, bought land from the natives, which was sold to settlers, and then claimed back, and so litigated and re-divided and arbitrated upon, that all parties, from the original vendors to the latest purchasers, became involved in a meshwork of insecurity and distrust, from which even Sir George Grey's ability has not sufficed entirely to clear them. Nevertheless, the Company did make settlements, and conducted an emigration from England, and in doing so (among other things) incurred heavy debts and liabilities. In short, New Zealand has been hitherto peopled by a series of laborious artifices, which have been at every step attended by a certain amount of sacrifice, danger, and failure.

"Such work it cost to found the Roman State!"

Having unreservedly said thus much, it is my duty to say more.

5. Defence of the Company.

Nothing is more unjust than to aggravate the shortcomings of well-meaning and patriotic men into charges against their honour; nothing is viler than to cast ridi-

cule upon great efforts, because they have not exactly resulted in the proposed success.

If adulation is a base fault, it is meaner still to decry; and, finally, it is a huge mistake to estimate the result of a struggle by its immediate consequences. This is too individual a test. We must not anticipate the conclusions of time. The result may yet explain away many an over-hasty and correct many an unfair construction. To have established flourishing colonies in New Zealand is in itself a great success. That they are at length flourishing, is a fact. That the English race has struck roots into the soil of a new and noble country, is surely a matter of high national congratulation. The planting of New Zealand may contain features disagreeable enough. There we meet, in truth, with reasonable hopes disappointed, – engagements unfulfilled, – public and private means wasted. But let the whole case be judged in its integrity. Let it be remembered that difficulties arose which it was impossible to have foreseen; that the management of men can never, under any circumstances, be a matter of nice calculation; that the very mistakes and losses of all kinds incurred in the course of planting the English in New Zealand have taught us lessons in the practice, and guided us to a knowledge of the principles, of what is called colonisation, which otherwise we could never have obtained. We now see that emigration, indeed, may be reduced to a system in the mother country, but

that colonisation in its proper sense is a work for and in the colony itself.

6. Colonisation by the Canterbury Association.

The Canterbury Association, which was an offshoot of the New Zealand Company, has of late been the special object both of violent open attack and of covert enmity. It appears to me, with the greatest deference to the opinion of its originators, that its great fault lay in attempting to do too much at once. To place the burden of so many contributions upon the land at all is to exaggerate the nominal, and therefore diminish the real, value of land, and thereby confine its sale greatly, except among fancy purchasers, encouraging a market which cannot be relied upon for twenty-four hours together.

Besides, to force a large money payment at the outset is to weaken the settler at the time when he most requires all his strength. To this it may be answered, that the scheme involved a very large outlay – an outlay which could only be met by levying a large contribution; that it was necessary to fix the amount of this contribution in some definite manner, so as to be as far as possible independent of individual caprice; that land was the only article upon which it could be fixed; that it was easily collected in this way, and levied with the greatest possible fairness and impartiality, inasmuch as the amount paid was determined simply by the amount of land taken at one and the same rate per acre for all purchasers; that to purchase at all was a

matter of free choice; and, lastly, that the purchasers of land-orders were placed at once in possession of their lands, on arriving in New Zealand, without the smallest delay, and with the best possible title.

This answer carries no little weight along with it. I shall return to it again when I come to inquire "what constitutes the worth of land in a new country."

Meanwhile it is plain that the circumstances of the case are such as to render a condemnation of that great attempt, to say the very least, premature.

The Association is peculiarly unfortunate in this; that while their operations have terminated as far as they are themselves concerned, and one at least of their engagements remains unfulfilled, it is not as yet clear whether the colony is prepared to step into their place, or whether, indeed, the colony can do so.

Again, the colony is at present in its transition state. It is like a child learning to walk. In a year or two we shall see what it is like, and what it can do; meanwhile its friends have every reason to think well of it.

The mistakes and shortcomings are on the surface. The success has not yet had time to show itself. Such are the convictions of one who is personally interested in the question. I spent both time and money at Canterbury, and, should it eventually appear that our expectations were unfounded, I should certainly feel greatly injured as well as grieved.

7. An artificial system no longer needed.

It may now be safely asserted of New Zealand that its population is sufficiently great, and its resources sufficiently developed, to render any further nursing, whether by companies or by associations, utterly unnecessary. They had their day and did their work – the work of preparation; whether it was done well or ill, is a matter for private opinion, but done, it was, and the country is now sufficiently advanced to carry on its own business itself. That business is one not only of extension and increase, but of civilisation.

Of the civil development of a colony, I shall presently treat in itself.

Mere extension is of two kinds: first, fresh supplies of men; second, fresh settlements. These may be easily obtained without any more artificial assistance. The country has reached the second stage of its progress. The long toil of planting is over.

CHAPTER III. NATURAL EXTENSION.

CHAPTER III.

NATURAL EXTENSION.

1. Natural formation of fresh settlements.

Fresh settlements will naturally form themselves in places favourable for the purpose. It can never be the interest of an enlightened Government to thwart free enterprise among its citizens, to circumscribe their operations, to confine them to a region already partly civilised. It will rather lend them a helping hand, while occupied in extending the limits and increasing the resources of their country. A deep soil, beautiful grass, a fine harbour, extensive woods of valuable timber; any of these allurements are enough to attract a few families to a distant corner of the land hitherto unpeopled by white men. The Government, observing this, cause the new region to be surveyed, conclude a treaty of agreement with the natives who dwell there, so that the new settlers may be able legally to obtain land at the lowest possible fixed rate; lastly, one or two of the most esteemed among the settlers are invested with authority among the rest as magistrates.

This process is, I believe, going on at this moment at Ahuriri. I remember while in Wellington in 1852 hearing, that two of the settlers there had just been made magistrates. As the population increases, a village first and then a town will grow up, putting forth, first its cottages, and then its larger buildings, such as schools, churches, inns, and warehouses, just as a tree grows into leaves, flowers, and fruit. This is success far healthier, easier, and altogether better, than that a town should rise like Aladdin's Castle; that it should be mapped out into streets, squares, reserves, and boulevards in a few days, and peopled in a single year, as Wellington and Lyttelton, by a vast injection of discontented strangers arriving in swarms of hundreds at a time. It is surely a bad copy of Nebuchadnezzar's plan for peopling Babylon. That magnificent monarch, to increase Babylon, inclosed a large tract of country within high walls, and into this great pound he drove whole tribes, whom he had "netted" in the ends of the earth, and kept them there.

2. Reasons against artificial extensions.

Besides the obvious unsuitableness of ever so faint and distant a copy in our times of the old Assyrian's "modus operandi," there are one or two very simple and direct reasons for the natural and against the artificial method. Let us pass over, as a matter for future consideration by itself, the fact which every colonist knows, as well as he knows how to smoke tobacco, that a settlement cannot be

made any more than a tree or an animal, that it must develope itself according to laws of its own, however it may be started, whether with ten or ten thousand families.

First, then, the natural process is economical for the individual engaged in it, the artificial ruinously expensive. This is certainly a matter of experience.

I am persuaded that, of the money taken out to Lyttelton in the first ships, one half at least was as much wasted as if it had been sunk in the sea. On the other hand, I know, from the witness of the Scotch settlers who were in Banks' Peninsula long before the first Canterbury expedition arrived, that they suffered great hardships, but very little expense, in planting themselves. But surely any one on consideration, even without actual experience, will readily acknowledge, that it is nothing wonderful if a mass of strangers, flung all at once into a wild country (even where a certain temporary preparation has been made for them), should waste half their capital in mistaken efforts, and sorely diminish the remainder by bidding against one another for bread. Whereas where the beginnings are little, and the increase by degrees, resources and supplies of food, &c., keep pace with the spread of population. There may, indeed, be an exception here and there, but about the rule there can be no doubt.

Secondly, the very same argument applies to institutions of every kind. They cannot be im-

provised. They cannot be measured out, and so much at such a time delivered on demand like goods in the shop. They must gradually grow up in the society to which they belong. We saw all this distinctly in the failure of that part of the Canterbury scheme, and we might, had we been wise, have known it without suffering all that disagreeable experience. That colony will, no doubt, thrive in the end, but, if it does, its success will be entirely owing to the vigour and energy of the settlers. Institutions will be realised there; but they will be the work of the inhabitants: whatever features of that scheme the colony can assimilate will then and there and thus become its own.

Lastly, the sudden introduction of a population has a directly immoral tendency. It takes time to produce confidence between man and man. Time only can show who are the real leaders, who are able, who are honest. An atmosphere of distrust pervades such a collection of men; the very air induces fraud and hypocrisy. The presence of any number of clergymen will not prevent it. It is too powerful for them, both collectively and individually. They are drawn into the general scramble, and become, saving only the gown, mere settlers. Assuredly, religion is more likely to be acknowledged and practised in a gradually organised settlement, unfolding itself from a beginning of a few families, than in the other. Order, respect, decency, and the beauty of society need never be aliens from

the first. In the second, I am sure they are exotics. The oak, which grows from the acorn, will, in the end, surpass the transplanted tree which may once have overshadowed it.

The artificial method may, indeed, be defended, on the ground that it was the readiest, perhaps the only, means of bringing New Zealand into civilised existence; it may be palliated, but that is all. Now that the country is fairly "under way," let the makeshift be interred, decently if possible, for it is certainly dead for any good purpose.

CHAPTER IV. IMMIGRATION.

CHAPTER IV

IMMIGRATION.

1. Immigration by grants from the colonies.

THE manner in which our colonies act directly upon the labour market of England is in some cases by State grants, or by the application of a certain portion of the revenue arising from the sale of waste lands to encourage emigration. These are paid over to her Majesty's Government in England, and are spent by the Emigration Commissioners in aiding those whose means are insufficient to enable them to leave the country. They are assisted in their outfit, in their journey to the seaboard, and in an advance towards the expenses of the passage. Such grants and such applications have been made by several of the Australian colonies.

2. Immigration by private supplies.

Again, they do so through countless private channels. A family sends over money to relations in the old country. This is the case to an enormous extent. Wealthy farmers will join in a remittance to some person they can trust, and he will look out for the work-people they want in his own neighbourhood. This is obviously by far the most valuable kind

of migration. These people go directly to their friends, or upon engagement to those by whom their services have been bespoken before they set out from their old places. Whereas those who are imported under grants or by benevolent subscription may waste their time and lose their morals in some colonial port town, merely because they do not know what offer they ought to accept.

It is also superior to the other, because it is more directly a matter of business. There is a fresh interest raised in the engagement, and the advances thus made are worked out, by which means independence is preserved.

It would be very easy to check or even to extinguish this most important kind of self-sustaining migration by grants of public money; for the colonist then argues thus: "George or John will be able to beg his passage;" or, "there be a large importation shortly under the Provident-Benevolence society."

3. Immigration by a union of the two.

An attempt has indeed been made in some provinces of Australia to unite public and private enterprise. A colonist who is ready to advance at once a certain part of the passage money, may nominate any one in the British Islands for a passage to the province in which he resides; the rest of the expense being provided for out of the funds set apart by the colony for immigration.

However this may be found to work in the

first instance, it is in principle very dangerous, and is open to the very same objections in kind (though not in degree) which apply to all assisted passages; that although immigration to the colony may be increased for a time by such projects, it will be diminished and injured in the long run, because the real principle of migration will be interfered with; false impressions disseminated; and individual exertion checked.

At the same time there is the greatest temptation to it in a colony where thousands of labourers are wanted in the shortest possible time.

4. A plan suggested.

Instead of these grants and supplies, which for a temporary advantage are likely to result in lasting damage, let a colony, anxious to secure a wholesome immigration, appoint public officers whose business it shall be to expedite and secure the arrival of private contributions to the parties in Europe, for whom they are intended; and in case the contribution is not intended for any particular destination, they might guarantee not only that the money finds its way to Europe (any banker will do that), but that when it gets there it is immediately employed for the purpose intended. Her Majesty's emigration agents in England might make an agreement with persons anxious to emigrate and answering to the description given in the advices, and it would remain for the colony to make the arrangement, so entered into, binding upon the immigrants on their arrival.

5. Objections to it.

Such a course would be better than the mixed plan given above; but still there are great objections to it. The persons chosen in England might not give satisfaction to the colonist who had advanced the money for their passage; or he might not suit them. They might even prefer half a year's imprisonment to a year's service. The only really safe and wise plan is to let the market find and follow its own laws, subject to certain checks against crimps, or mercenary go-betweens. Against such, the best safeguard is to be found in the activity of thoroughly honourable and well-informed migration officers, both in Europe and in the colony itself. Such we have already.

6. The demand in New Zealand.

Now to take the particular case of demand in New New Zealand. There is a very great cry for labourers in that country. Able-bodied and well-conducted men would be sure of remunerative employment on arriving there. When the New Zealand Parliament meets, this cry will probably take a definite shape, and render itself distinctly felt in a demand for some vote of supply for immigration purposes; and large funds will very likely be voted, which will probably be placed, under certain conditions, at the disposal of her Majesty's commissioners in England. If the demand be very urgent, there is no other way of meeting it so quickly as this. But let us see whether some measure of the following kind might not be found prefer-

able, as soon as the colony has breathing-time for consideration.

7. Another plan.

It is always doubtful whether those in England to whom the New Zealand colonist dispatches money to assist them out, may not be dead, or no longer in their former neighbourhood. Thus the money may be lost; at least this fear is very common. Let, therefore, the colony itself engage that whatever sums are sent through its own hands shall be returned at the expiration of a certain time, unless those to whom they are sent arrive in New Zealand before that time, say a year and a half from the date of the agreement, which should be signed when the money is paid in. The colony need not lose a sixpence by this pledge; because it must be understood, in every instance, that the sum paid in is to represent, and to be accounted for, as so much passage or outfit money.

Some such communication as this will then pass between the central office in New Zealand, and the office in London:

Place [number], free passages [description] to [port] in New Zealand, at the disposal of [description], on being identified and engaging to emigrate thither; and forward to the same [£. s. d.] outfit money.

Should [name] not be identified within [ – – – ] months from the receipt of this, or decline to emigrate thither, carry the sum as above to our account, and instruct us accordingly.

Here might follow the name and address of the colonist

who advanced the money, with any particular directions which he may have given, provided they are not inconsistent with the necessary regulations.

Of course the agents in England would not provide the passages as ordered, until the family as described was identified, and had given some security that they were ready to emigrate. Nor would the outfit money be forwarded without assurance from some respectable person resident in the same parish, that the family were trustworthy. The amount of outfit money required might be calculated in New Zealand, from the class of passage taken, and the number of the family. Should any small deficiency occur, the London office might make a small advance upon the colonial account, and the colony might reasonably call upon the colonist who made the original advance to discharge the additional sum thus charged to their English account. As he trusted, it would not be unreasonable to trust him in return. Some such plan as this, re-cast perhaps and polished by some abler hand, would, I am convinced, in a few years work wonders.

8. Principles to be kept in sight.

Let this only be kept in mind, as necessary to the successful elaboration of any such scheme; first, that the object always is to draw out and assist, but never to supplant, whether by too great intricacy of operation, or by any appearance of patronage, private enterprise. Secondly, that it should at once recommend itself to the intelligence of those with whom it deals. How many excellent state-

devices become failures for want of this! Thirdly, that its details should regard each separate transaction as beginning and ending with individuals. The machinery only professes to provide a bond fide link between the colonist and his relation or friend in Europe. Want of individuality of operation was the fault of the scheme which I proposed and withdrew again a few pages back. That error is rectified here.

CHAPTER V. MIGRATION AS REGARDS ITS SOURCE.

CHAPTER V.

MIGRATION AS REGARDS ITS SOURCE.

1. Delusion of wholesale emigration.

To come next to that which is more particularly the English part of this subject – -the process of emigration simply.

Nothing is more common than to read day by day letters addressed to the Times and other newspapers, calling for a national system of emigration – -just as there is also a cry for national education. It is to be observed that such pretended systems are generally crotchets of the most unbearable and unwearable description. A man hits upon some little scheme for his own school, his own parish, or even his own family, which he finds upon a year's trial to answer. Nothing more is wanting to convince him that the scheme must hold good in all cases. He nationalises it by a fond stroke of the pen; in an uncontrollable fit of generosity he gives it to his country; e.g. a panacea to secure the peace of the whole world.

The performances of our national emigration songsters generally consist of two notes only.

First (say they), let the Chancellor of the Exchequer advance some millions of money; next, catch hold of all the beggars, vagabonds and rogues in the nation; in short, the scum and scrapings of every parish in town and country, and pay their passage out to Australia or America; and this must needs, they urge, be a most masterly stroke of economy: for it will save you in poor's rates and gaol expenses, and perhaps some of the outlay may be repaid when your English beggar grows rich in his new country. There is something so absurdly ridiculous in this, that comment might appear unnecessary; yet as the cry seems to embody a certain belief regarding a great class in England, and the possibility and policy of getting rid of them by wholesale shipment to the colonies, it is worth a short answer. Putting aside its own unintentional absurdities in order to give it perfectly fair play, it must be remembered that, first, the class in question are fit for nothing whether at home or abroad. Their only possession or makeshift is roguery, whether small or great. They are almost universally vile, diseased, and weakly; or, if strong, utterly depraved; such people will not leave England if they can help it; but if they do, they will be a curse to the unfortunate country into which they are forced, wherever it be. As a rule, they will not work; and they know well that for their favourite pursuits England presents the best field in the world, for there is more foolish benevolence available for their purposes here than anywhere else. And if

any great number could be ejected, the place thus left vacant would (alas, to say it!) be supplied in a year's time from some other district. Apart, then, from its incidental impracticabilities, this notion rests upon a delusion.

2. England ought not to contribute money.

Again, such a scheme implies a vast imperial outlay. British money is to be raised to get rid of British subjects. Now it may be very fairly asked, why? When the American and Australian exchequers are groaning under a plethora of wealth, why the British should pay for advantages of a very negative complexion, or rather for the chance of them? Let the countries which will be positively benefited by the influx of emigrants from the British Islands superintend the emigration, which is so indispensable to them. But neither America nor Australia will ever contribute sixpence to a fund for the purpose of shipping out of England a worthless swarm of drones to their shores: while, on the other hand, Australia and America are contributing vast sums towards an emigration quite independent of Government surveillance; an emigration of the poor certainly, but not of the worthless poor. Is it, then, good policy to disturb that great natural movement, in order to produce an unnatural imitation of it? To do so would tend directly to check private exertion, to restrain sympathies now at work, and probably in the end diminish emigration. It is a question, whether countries like America and Australia

would even receive such importations of so dangerous a character, whether they would not tax goods of this description very heavily.

3. Peril of increased emigration.

Besides, is not the drain of emigration, as at present carried on, fully as much as this country can bear, without finding its means and resources shrink? The best judges are of opinion that it is. Labour was very scarce in England during last summer from a variety of causes – one of them being the vast emigration, which, in 1852, amounted to 368,764 souls, being more than 1000 a day. Wages were very high; an excellent thing, so long as it does not narrow our market; but of this there was and is a danger. The prosperity and solvency of Great Britain depend upon her being able to undersell her rivals in the various markets of the world – a miserable position for a great country; but still a fact. Whenever the tide of that prosperity ebbs (God grant we may not live to see the day!), we must expect to drain the cup of loss, misery, and degradation to the very dregs. Indeed, who can say what will not happen, when it begins to be understood, upon the evidence of year after year, that the British exports are falling off?

"In those days the Lord began to cut Israel short, and Hazael smote them in all their coasts."

The only consolation of such a prospect would be, that the mass of cant and lies with which the nation has been deluded for so many years would shrivel up before the fiery pressure of

adversity, to make way for one or two long-lost truths.

I must conclude, then, that all attempts at wholesale emigration, all grants of money to interfere with its natural course, are fraught with frightful danger. We cannot afford to lose such masses of our honest, and the colonists cannot afford to receive our dishonest, population.

4. What might reasonably be done: popular information.

But there is something which the Government might do, and in some degree does. Let us see what it is. Let us begin to remember, that the class upon which we have to operate – the class which alone can provide emigrants who may eventually become colonists – is the industrious class, not those who are already lost to industry. In allowing these opportunities of emigration, and sound information upon it, we are most likely to improve their condition, and to diminish the legion of hopeless paupers, which is yearly recruited by those who have fallen by misfortune and hard times from a life of industry and good habits. In one word, the Government of this country can command returns to be made and materials to be collected, bearing upon the facts of emigration at home and abroad. A little sound information will greatly check wasteful and engage beneficial emigration.

We want materials, an arrangement which shall enable us to place the state of the labour-market in the various parts of the world in-

telligibly and concisely before the common people.

Bradshaw, in his "Guide," gives a monthly summary of the railway intelligence of this empire for the price of sixpence.

M'Culloch, in his statistics of trade, presents a detailed account of the commerce of the world. The chances and changes of speculation come before us from time to time in the circulars of great houses, which are copied into leading newspapers. The researches of Mr. Mayhew, in the "London Labour and London Poor," show us what a mass of important matter may be worked out of inquiries apparently trifling, and of no value to the ordinary observer.

Minuteness is no enemy to conciseness. A vast deal may be stated in a very small book. Why should not the English common people order a quarterly abstract of the labour-market, &c., to be laid before them for the sum of sixpence, containing the facts connected with all those small matters which are so important to us all? It is only little minds that despise little things.

The information which such a book should contain is not very easy for individuals to collect. In addition to years of labour, such a work requires a peculiar habit of mind, the principal feature of which is an instinctive sagacity in detecting error and imposition. Well-informed business-men often take a pleasure in puzzling novices, who bring up their questions with all

the confidence of simplicity. To such questions as: Why do Clippers of a certain build beat the rest? or, Do the Americans really manage to appropriate the cream of our tea-trade? or, How comes the English whaling business to be given up? a common inquirer will never get two answers alike.

Individuals compiling tables of information generally refer to papers already in circulation, to which they are obliged to trust, unless the experience of years enables them to correct what they read, or to dispense with it altogether.

The House of Commons has just ordered returns to be made out of the agricultural produce of England, and I see in the Times of November 14th, a letter from Mr. Pusey, suggesting the best manner of effecting such a registration of our national farming stock. They will, by this means, obtain a vast heap of materials, such as no individual could possibly get together.

There are, indeed, men to be found, whose knowledge (the condensed result of years of diligent observation) may enable them to anticipate the result of these most laborious calculations. There are men of such quickness of apprehension, of such extensive experience, that they will at once lay their hands on the bird while the rest are beating about the bush. The late Lord George Bentinck is said to have been an instance of such a head; but are there any such alive who are willing to be of service? There may be a few

men now alive who are intimately acquainted with England; who can take county after county and town after town, describing their inhabitants, trade, manners, and wants; men who have also actual experience of the manufacturing and "black" districts, of the coasting trade and fisheries, of the many different customs and classes, and the antagonistic feelings which we all fly past on the rail; men who have perhaps the real unsuspected reason, why the farm labourer in one county is better off than in another on smaller wages: who originated and who governs such clubs, and such societies, &c. There are men born into the world with skulls purposely prepared for obtaining and digesting information on a great scale; discerners; men who can grasp facts, and wield them in the mass; – but, reader, neither you nor I are ever likely to meet with them.

We are, then, all the more obliged to such men as Bradshaw and the rest; and we shall be obliged to the House of Commons for materials out of which another Bradshaw may compile a wages and market book for England, America, and the colonies. Such a book, if properly got up, would have a very wide circulation, and would do more than anything else to put the question of emigration in its proper place. The contents of such a book should be, according to my notion, something of this kind:

(1.) The earnings of skilled and unskilled la-

bour in different districts of the British Islands: America: the Colonies.

(2.) The advantages and disadvantages of such several districts, independent of mere wages.

(3.) The means and opportunities for investing small sums of money.

(4.) The average returns yielded by capital invested in different trades; the proportions in which labour, raw material, and capital are represented in the average market-prices, wholesale and retail, of common articles of consumption.

(5.) Account of clubs and societies and banks for mutual assistance.

(6.) Accounts of shipping, the principal post towns, freight, passage money, voyage, &c.

(7.) A list of inventions and improvements.

Now the materials of the hand-book here sketched out could only be made up quarterly or half-yearly by means of a parliamentary order. Without some authority the collection would always be imperfect; with its aid it becomes the simplest thing in the world.

Perhaps Her Majesty's Emigration Commissioners may lend a hand to such an undertaking. The machinery to which they belong costs us above 15,000l. a year.

It is not enough to send in a blue book once a year to the Duke of Newcastle (admirable indeed as their last report was). They might publish a cheap return for the people, not perplexed

with ingenious and startling calculations, but simply commenting on such topics as the above. As it is, they publish circulars containing cheap information on particular colonies. Let them add a general circular upon the comparative condition of labour and employment in the countries with which Englishmen are most connected.

CHAPTER VI. EMIGRANT AND COLONIST.

CHAPTER VI.

EMIGRANT AND COLONIST.

Common opinion examined.

"EMIGRANT" and "Colonist" are used by some as simply convertible terms; though the life of every settler compared with itself, and the condition of every colony, refute the mistake. Others, who are aware of the great difference that exists between the two, are yet very far from knowing wherein it consists. They sometimes speak of emigrants on the one hand and colonists on the other as two distinct classes, or rather castes, of men. One who flies from his native land driven by want; one who saves up, begs or borrows just enough to ship him over to America or Australia; one who sets his life upon a venture, because it is worth so little; who sets down failure at nothing, because he cannot be worse off than he is; the haggard, famine-smitten Irishman; the ignorant, workhouse-scared, Englishman; these are Emigrants: – while farmers, tradesmen, and gentlefolks, those who have something, but not enough to satisfy them, or sunk a little in social position, or thwarted in their ambition at home; – all in

short who can make up anything like a purse full enough to depart respectably; – all who have something to fear as well as to hope; – all that have prospects, however distant, or available means however slender; these are Colonists. I remember well on board the Charlotte Jane, on the voyage out to New -Zealand, certain friends of mine always called the common passengers – "the emigrants." Evidently they considered themselves in all respects above the condition of "emigrants." "The emigrants had a quarrel last night down below." "The doctor insists upon lime-juice for the emigrants this hot weather." Of course they were not emigrants. A man who dines at the cuddy-table, and can afford to bribe the steward, is no emigrant. He believes himself to belong to a very different class. And his belief in his caste confesses itself continually in his language.

No one, however, can really suppose that these two words are intended to convey so very forced a meaning. But it is obvious enough that society thinking the term emigrant a term of reproach, and being unwilling to apply it to designate a respectable person, and finding colonist comes to the tongue, has carried off that word by force, and pressed it into a special service for the occasion. There is small difficulty in making out why emigrants have come to be regarded with little favour.

But the objection to the name is fast wearing out, as people better understand the thing meant.

Again, there are those who hold the difference between emigration and colonisation to lie in the difference between scheme and no scheme; that is, not in the men themselves, their means or their position, but in the way the exodus is effected.

An emigrant family (according to this notion) is a family simply leaving the old country for a new one, leaving it and seeking it by themselves and for themselves: while a colonist family is one which goes out with definite views, with certain ties, under certain engagements, and for certain expectations.

Thus Emigration is the drifting of atoms. Colonisation is the regular movement of an organised body. According to this view, not only has the colonist a plan of his own, but he has his part to fulfil in a common plan: a plan which gives him a place in the society which is being formed. This evidently is not far from the mark, for not only is the difference allowed, but it is insisted upon, and made to consist not in the accident of position between rich and poor, between "respectable" and "doubtful" people; but in the contrast between isolation and mutual help. Colonisation is a system. Colonisation incorporates. And it is important to remember that thus explained, it takes charge of a man on starting from his home. It is careful to supply its subject with new ties and positive duties, at the same moment that the old are being snapt asunder.

A colonising society, according to this view, diminishes the number of luckless emigrants. Mrs. Chisholm colonises, because she foresees, assists, arranges, and settles. The Canterbury Association colonised because they conducted emigration on a plan. And it is in this precisely that most men of education and thought make the difference between emigration and colonisation to consist.

2. The characters contrasted.

Here I confess myself not altogether satisfied, the distinction appears insufficient to express the difference.

There is a deficiency of union and of method in mere emigration. There is a supply of these elements of success in colonisation – granted: but what if the Colonist after all differs from the Emigrant, not only in having appliances towards an object, but also in himself, his life and character? And may not those two characters represent two stages of one journey or progress, and two phases of life in the same man? Every settlement and every settler has to undergo a certain process, which is strictly analogous to what takes place in a plant when it is removed from one soil to another. It droops: it begins to fade: it seems about to die. Suddenly a reaction takes place; its roots are beginning to lay hold of the new soil; its leaves begin to feed on the new air. The old conditions of life and growth are again at work in a new place. It assimilates: it thrives.

So, in every incipient settlement there always

is at first a period of difficulty, embarrassment, and even distress. The machine does not work easily as yet; the pulleys and ropes get entangled; the slides slip away; the wheels stop. The markets fluctuate fearfully between gluts and famine prices. Labour is very dear, and yet there are perhaps hundreds of poor people out of employment. There is general stagnation and universal distrust. And the settler too, after his outlay has been made, and before he receives his returns; what a long, careful, dissatisfied face is his. How he grumbles. How he repines. How thin he gets. Now is the time for quarrels, and outcries, and remonstrances. Now, all who advised and assisted him to emigrate are fearfully cursed. His money is spent. His house is not quite finished, and his servants have left him. He must work in his garden to produce those vegetables, which, with eggs and a little bacon, constitute his food. His eldest son gets in the cows, which his wife must milk. His eldest daughter makes butter. His hundred-acre section is still waste; for that which was broken up and sown has been trodden down again by his own and his neighbours' cattle, goats, and pigs; in consequence of which he very naturally has a decent crop of feuds growing up (his only first-year's harvest). His few sheep, which are let out on "thirds," bring him in nothing as yet, except the constant apprehension that they are getting scabby; his horses are unshod, and his plough broken; he now grows careless of clean-

liness and decency, and begins to bask in his shirt at full length in the warm sun. He shoots at some stray pigs, and sells a cow to pay the bills of two lawyers, his own and another. To conclude, he writes to England furiously, denouncing the settlement, declaring its originators are swindlers and impostors, and protesting he is utterly undone, without a single penny, heart-broken, beggared, and – just about to commence an expensive action at law against the company from which he purchased such very worthless acres at such an exorbitant and scandalous price; who (he asks) persuaded him to that? "He is dying (he writes); send him a supply of money, and he will never fail to return it with interest cent. per cent. in a year or two, when his sheep shall have rendered him rich beyond the dreams of avarice."

But along with all this there is a change going on; he begins to learn the secret of making his way in a new country; of turning a good bargain, and returning a bad one; his cattle and sheep multiply; many little things turn out advantageously, as if to repay him for former losses. His house is now finished; he makes cheese and butter; he begins to sell wool and mutton; he becomes strong and merry; puts on good clothes; whistles as he walks; goes to church; attends a missionary meeting, and sees his name in the Swamptown Gazette among the stars. He now embraces his neighbour, and forgives his friend. Presently he launches out in praise of the coun-

try, and wonders what his relations are about, "why they don't come out." He applauds his own good sense, his courage, perseverance, and resolution, his foresight, sagacity, and patience, and above all his firm faith (which never flagged) in the system "under which he crossed the stormy ocean;" and "though many of your readers (he writes to the editor of his own old county newspaper, in England) affect to disbelieve in the prospects of this colony, they cannot refuse to accept the testimony of one whose own case is a proof of the bond fide soundness of the inducements held out to settlers on the great Swamptown Plain, in New Dalmatia." It is not, however, till a year or two later, – when he rides his horse, and takes an active part in political business, – when in his capacity of magistrate he imprisons the offender, and sends the lunatic to the hospital, that his dignity and consequence in the country enable him to be sparing of self-commendation and frugal of opinions, except when on his legs at a public meeting.

This picture of every-day life in a colony is intended to mark the transition from a shifting and struggling to a settled condition. That man was not a colonist till he began to take root. His migratory unsettled life commenced when he broke up his old connections in England, and continued, during his seasoning, till "the colonist" commenced. A dismal struggle; for he had exhausted the old means, and had not yet entered upon the enjoyment of the new. Some

poor people never reach the second stage. There are plenty of settlers who, strange to say, never do really settle. There are "emigrants" who never "colonise."

3. Involve the relations of two countries, and the action of two principles.

The movement by which an old relations country is relieved of its superfluous population; the pilgrimage of the of thousands who annually leave it; stands by itself.

The process by which those thousands may become a new Commonwealth in a new country, is another and quite a distinct thing.

Both may be, to a certain extent, systematised; but not without danger of impairing private enterprise in the first, and the natural effort of society in the second.

The first is governed by the common law of demand and supply. People leave a place where they stand too thick, and are drawn to another where population is thin, and where labour is scarce and valuable. It is then governed by a law apart from and without itself, and is a matter of calculation.

The second arranges itself by a law of its own, and is only deranged by external interference. Men become citizens. A body of men becomes a state. The process by which men acquire one common political will, is a moral one, and is not matter for calculation, but for thought.

Each has a twofold aspect: first, as regards the individual; secondly, as regards society or the state.

I have, in the first part of the chapter, compared the meanings, as generally understood, of two terms, Migration and Colonisation. I have compared the two processes or powers, for which those terms are very inadequate expressions; not so much to point out differences, and to mark out exactly which is which, as to show what is the real connection between the two.

4. The ultimate object of colonisation.

The ultimate aim of colonisation confessedly is, to found a new commonwealth in a new land.

It is fed by migration, whether irregular or systematic. The greatest colonisers of the present day are the Americans. This, too, though colonies in one sense are not recognised by their constitution. The formation of these new states is one of the greatest triumphs of civilisation; an encouragement to all mankind never to despair; eminently suggestive of thoughts concerning the welfare and future development of mankind. As I must ever admire England as the great source and sustainer of a migration unheard of, undreamt of, in the past annals of the world, as the "Magna Virum Mater;" the metropolis of an hundred states; the birthplace of a race of men who are destined for government: – so I never can cease to regard the great American nation with feelings approaching to awe and veneration, when I reflect that they have, apparently without effort, discovered the true principle, and are actually carrying out the true practice of colonisation. Or have they received it as a

legacy from an ancient and mighty nation, whose representatives the English claim to be, but whose imperial arts we have in a great measure forgotten?

It remains for me to press home to my readers the real tendency and consequence of these remarks: that the work of a colony can only be performed in and by a colony; that its policy and government belong to itself entirely, save and except only its connection with the mother-country, which must be a matter of mutual understanding and compact between the old and new state. This is a position, which is really the basis of all genuine colonial operations, to forget or neglect which, can only result in a loss of freedom on the one hand, or of empire on the other. Every chapter in this book, is in some way calculated to illustrate and confirm it. Whatever be the subject immediately before me, the prospects of individual settlers; the constitution; the social condition; I shall not lose sight of this.

CHAPTER VII. THE LOSS INCURRED BY ONE WHO LEAVES HIS COUNTRY.

CHAPTER VII.

THE LOSS INCURRED BY ONE WHO LEAVES HIS COUNTRY.

IT hardly enters into the scope of this work to go minutely into the individual prospects of settlers. To describe or rather to examine the connection which exists between two countries such as England and New Zealand; to give the political and social aspect of the intercourse which is rising up between them, is the intention of this treatise. It seems, however, advisable to digress from the main topic before us, in order to give some information which may be of service to emigrants generally; and it is the more allowable to do so, inasmuch as the population of the country whence our investigation proceeds has been made up from the very first, and continues to be swelled by individual exertion. It is, therefore, my intention to enter, in this and the two succeeding chapters, with some minuteness into the expectations which induce the various classes of emigrants to leave this country, and the means which the colony of New Zealand possesses for satisfying those expec-

tations. And in so doing I shall be enabled, from personal experience, to expose some of the fallacies which cause disappointment; and to clear away some of the difficulties which retard the success of the colonist.

I would commence, as a general rule applicacable to almost every Englishman, by impressing upon the minds of my fellow citizens the vast superiority of the country, which so many are without due reflection leaving, over any other country, whether in the Old or New World. It may be the pressure of adverse circumstances; it may be, in some instances, merely some temporary pique or dissatisfaction, which causes a citizen, in emigrating from this country, to depreciate its extraordinary advantages and to extol the country to which his thoughts are directed. Yet it will be found that even such a one, before many months have passed over his head in a new country, will recur with regret and passionate affection to the glorious land of his birth. He can then the better appreciate its blessings when he begins to feel their absence. Let it be remembered by all, that this country has for more than a thousand years been working its way to its present position, and that for that decade of centuries the progress of its destiny has been confided by Providence to a succession of the greatest of men. What individual labour has it not cost – what thought, what care, to tame and shape the British Islands into a civilised Commonwealth, the greatest boast of which is that

there is equal law for all its inhabitants? Let us add the gradual effect of institutions, the magnificence of which is the wonder of the world.

It is, therefore, necessary as a first step, before presuming to offer either information or advice to one who leaves such a country, to warn him plainly that he will never look upon its like again. It is a fashionable error to institute an invidious comparison between England and the United States of America. Unquestionably those States offer advantages to many Englishmen, such as England herself does not at present afford; and yet it is well known to those who have followed the colonist to his new home, that, had the same amount of energy and sagacity, which he had been obliged to put forth in Ohio or Illinois, been exerted in England they would have gone far to render the move unnecessary: – they would have secured to him an independence in his native village.

It is, again, unjust to compare this country with an assemblage of many states, occupying nearly half a continent; replete with natural advantages, as yet scarcely opened; and containing millions of untouched acres. But when will any single state, or any single colony to which a man can possibly migrate, contain so many aids of life as are to be found concentrated in England? Where have the gifts of Providence been more lavishly, more prodigally bestowed? How many years will it require to enable New England to rival its mother country in the means and appliances of civilisation!

Should the New England States, indeed, present material advantages as great as those of our country, how many centuries of political and social development will be required to place them on an historical level with England! As yet the struggle of classes has not commenced in America – the various difficulties which go along with such a struggle and accompany the condensation of population are a page of life as yet unturned by her.

Having premised thus much by way of salutary caution, I need hardly say that any one proceeding to an entirely new country, such as is New Zealand, must find the trial proportionally greater. The ordinary business and civil transactions of life, which are so noiselessly conducted in England, from the effect of long custom, and the facile adaptation of long established means to gain certain well-known ends, cannot be altogether successfully carried on by merely extempore substitutes. There is no doubt that the individual powers of man are brought forth in the new struggle, which presents itself to him with a power and strength which they could never know in England. There is no doubt that man is calculated by his Maker for the creative and even the improvisative part which circumstances thus force upon him; but the process is, to the generality, a most painful and distressing one. Never was a colonist yet who did not, at some period or other of his colonial experience, bitterly regret the country which he left behind him.

CHAPTER VIII. THE CAPITALIST SETTLER.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPITALIST SETTLER.

1. What is considered a large capital.

THOSE who migrate from this country to New Zealand may be roughly divided into three classes; to the first of which belongs the man of capital, the man who occupied a tolerably comfortable position in the land of his birth, and who embarks upon his new career with certain means upon which he may depend in the struggle.

The term capital, as used in this country in common speech, bears a relative construction. Few persons proceeding from England take with them more than very moderate means. They may, however, be regarded as by far the most important class of emigrants, when we consider that they at least go prepared for the battle; and should they be individually unsuccessful still the means they carry along with them are never ultimately wasted in a new country, unless some frightful state of public mismanagement exists. There are, at the present moment, families yearly settling in New Zealand with capitals varying from 1000l. to 5000l.

2. Letter from an intending emigrant of this class.

I have before me a letter from a person belonging to this class, which so admirably represents the difficulties which they feel at starting, and the points upon which they most require information, that I may be allowed to introduce a part of it, as expressing their feelings far better than I could do myself. The writer is a gentleman lately connected with a mercantile firm in London, who solicits any information I can procure upon the following heads. He expresses himself as follows, and I shall take the liberty of giving his very words: –

"Let us suppose then," says he, "that an individual, hitherto following a mercantile occupation, who can command a capital of fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds, is desirous of settling in New Zealand. The occupations to be followed are probably limited to two; say the agricultural, or production of grain and breeding of cattle; and the pastoral, concerned with the breeding of sheep. The former requires practical information: as to the latter, it is probable that any active industrious man, whatever his former pursuits may have been, can manage sheep profitably. Is this your opinion? Supposing sheep-farming to be the investment selected – what district in New Zealand is the most suitable for the purpose? Is it better to rent land or to purchase it? What is the price of good land in a favourable spot? The vicinity of a town and good roads would of course be desirable, and perhaps Wellington would be preferred. Can good land be obtained,

whether purchased, or hired, in that neighbourhood at a reasonable rate; or would the value of land there be an obstacle, and render it necessary to seek less settled districts, in order to obtain land at a lower rate? Would it be possible to pursue a business occupation at Wellington, and also obtain land suitable for sheep, sufficiently near that town to make the access easy? In the absence of any material information regarding New Zealand, I find a difficulty in putting my inquiries so clearly as I could wish. Your own experience will enable you to suggest what information I particularly require. It is remarkable that very few persons return to England from New Zealand, and those who do return usually remain at home. Is distance the sole obstacle? Has any want of success a share in the matter?"

As I conceive that this letter is a very fair sample of the inquiries which are generally made by the class to which my correspondent belongs, I shall give the reply which it elicited, as nearly as possible, word for word, going through the questions one by one, in order to answer them as shortly and clearly as possible.

3. Reply.

1. Agriculture never succeeds in inexperienced hands. It is always expensive, laborious, and yielding small returns. Let it alone.

2. Sheep-farming is unquestionably a very profitable investment. The best judges consider a capital of from one to two thousand pounds quite enough to commence with in this business.

3. Sheep-farming, like any other business, requires to be learnt, but it presents none of the difficulties attendant on the practical acquisition of a knowledge of agriculture. A residence of a few months among the sheep-runs is necessary previous to commencing yourself. This, with the services of an experienced servant, will enable you to begin. A few months spent in looking about you, is money well laid out. You will save it by better management when you commence.

4. Wellington is the best place to make your head-quarters from which to explore, make researches, and look out for a particular location.

5. Nobody ever buys land for sheep-farming purposes. They can get land from government to put sheep upon, at a very low yearly rent, indeed for next to nothing. By no means buy land, except a very great bargain presents itself, and in order to judge of that, keep clear of it altogether for at least two full years.

6. As to the price of land, I fancy wild land will be selling before long at from 5s. to 10s. an acre, probably payable by instalments. Well-cultivated land is quite as dear as in England. Partly enclosed, half-drained, and half-cultivated land in all conditions may be had. The price depends upon the state in which you find it, and on the state of the market. Again, it varies greatly, according to the circumstances of the seller's desire of immediate payment, worth of money at the time, the colony, &c.

7. You will scarcely find a sheep-run near a town – you will be obliged to go a considerable distance even from a village, perhaps from a white man's house: but that need not alarm you, as there are no wild animals, and the natives are very well behaved.

8. If you have relatives, or can find servants in whom you can place reliance, you may carry on a business in a town in connection with the sheep-farm, but your experience will doubtless suggest to you that one capital will not carry on two trades, without great danger of both breaking down. This you already know better than I can tell you.

9. You might indeed start a small shop at Wellington, or some other town, beginning very cautiously, just to pay for your living and give you a connection, while you are feeling your way in a new country. Your family could look after it. I may safely say that men with families get on best, although they have more to bear at first.

10. Common emigrants from England to New Zealand, do not return to us, obviously because they have their home and business to attend to, and cannot afford to be away. There are others of a superior class, who occasionally return on a visit to see their friends, marry, or carry on some particular negociation. Mr. Clifford, Mr. Weld, Mr. Deans, Mr. Fox, and others, have revisited England for such purposes, and returned again to their own country.

11. In conclusion, let me caution you to be on

your guard against falling into the common error of making heaps of little purchases in England, preparatory to setting out. You will find plenty of wares and goods stored up in New Zealand. There is often a great glut in the markets, and I have seen ploughs, handmills, and guns, selling for half their original value. Don't take a first class passage, if you can get a decent second, on board a good ship. Eschew the nonsense of the cuddy, and its attendant expense. The great matter is to keep your money from being dribbled away, without anything substantial to show for it. Of course you must be content to be ready to do without some of the comforts to which you have been accustomed in England. Above all, go out as a real colonist, by which I mean, with a good will, without any half-mind, or hankering after England at every step: but put on a good old English determination to make good a position in a new land. A man who is engaged in a great work, ought to be strict, steady, sober, determined to bear and forbear, and to carry his point in spite of obstacles, which are sure to abound.

4. Some particulars of sheep-farming in New Zealand.

This perhaps is as much of my rep]y as seems to have reference to the prospects of an individual of this class preparing to start for New Zealand. The rest of the information which I thought myself called upon to give on that occasion has reference to more general questions of interest which will be hereafter discussed

when I come to consider the present position in which New Zealand stands, as to the disposal of its waste lands, and as to its export of wool and agricultural produce. It may, however, be advisable to remind my readers, that it is not more than seven or eight years at the utmost since sheep-farming has been introduced into that country, on any considerable scale. During that time the advances which have been made, and the property which has been acquired, have already become very considerable. The sheep have been introduced almost entirely from Australia, – principally from the Port Philip district; and it is the opinion of experienced judges, that the wool has gained both in quantity and quality by the change. I wish, however, to refer those who may seek particular information on this head to Mr. Weld's pamphlet on the subject, which will amply repay an attentive perusal.

The price of sheep, as imported from Australia, is from 18s. to 22s. per head. It used to be considerably less, but the charge has been increased, in consequence of the general dearness of the Australian market.

Mr. Weld recommends purchasers of sheep to start with a flock of about 1000 head. I have known persons, however, who started with a much fewer number, and who appear to be thriving. It is not difficult for a person who can afford to purchase 400 or 500 sheep of his own, to induce some of his neighbours to fill up the complement

necessary for a commencement, by placing a few hundreds more under his charge. There are particular inducements to follow this course, which make it extremely beneficial to both parties concerned. It is, for instance, difficult to obtain a quantity of land sufficient for the purpose of starting a sheep-farm without considerable care, expense, and personal exertion. Now, as there are in the towns of New Zealand, tradesmen and merchants, who happen to have a small sum, which they wish to invest in this way without quitting their town-establishments, the only plan by which they can do so advantageously, is by placing the sheep which they buy in the hands of an experienced friend upon whom they can place reliance.

It is not impossible, under the working of the new constitution, that large tracts of country, hitherto unopened and unexplored, may be rendered available for the sheep-farmer. As it is at present, there are vast regions of grass-land either unsurveyed, or in the hands of Maories, who have an objection to allow Europeans to enter upon them. And there are countries in the southern island which are so distant from any settlement, and inaccessible in their own nature, that a considerable time must elapse before they can be occupied in this or any other manner. In consequence of the backwardness of government, or rather its inability, from the insufficiency of its revenue, to purchase the lands of the Maories, one of the finest regions in the

neighbourhood of Wellington has been stocked in a very irregular manner.

Assuming that it is advisable to commence farming with a flock of about 1000 sheep, we shall easily see that a very large expanse of country will be required to be set apart, in each particular instance, if the business is to be prosecuted successfully. The grass-lands by no means resemble our English meadows, where three or four sheep may be put upon an acre – on the contrary, it requires at first two, three, or even four acres of wild grass-land to support a sheep. According to the government regulations, wherever a person introduces a flock of sheep, allowance is always made for this, and a sufficient quantity of land given up to him on lease, upon a calculation of the increase of the flock in five years. Thus, where 1000 sheep are introduced, which would in the first instance require 3000 acres of grazing land, the government would allow 20,000 acres to be assigned on lease, as in five years' time the flock would be so increased as to require at least that extent of country. The government derive a revenue, which, though not large at present, is increasing very fast, from the rent of pasture lands. They charge 1d. per head for every sheep, and 6d. per head for cattle, and there is besides a fee of 5l. to be paid whenever a pasturage lease is granted. Farmers are accustomed to calculate the yearly value of the wool produced by each sheep at about 4s. or 5s. a-head. The income, how-

ever, derived from wool is only about one-half of the profits of a sheep-farm. When the farm is fully stocked, as much more may be produced by the sale of meat, the manufacture of tallow, and from similar smaller sources of profit. The enormous wool-export of Port Philip has been the creation of the last twenty years, and it is not impossible that the amount of wool sent from New Zealand may some day rival it.

The difficulties of forming a station for sheep are in the first instance very considerable, and it is admitted that no remunerative return can be expected for the first two years. There is a difference of opinion as to the policy of buying sheep, and stock in general, in the country itself, or of undertaking a journey to Australia for the express purpose of introducing it. The choice of sheep in that country, and the process of getting them to New Zealand, is strictly speaking a business in itself, which requires considerable experience and a large amount of capital. It is attended with such great risks that hardly one voyage out of three is considered remunerative, except to a professional man. These difficulties are occasioned by the delays consequent on any business undertaking in a strange country; by the extreme hazard and expense of the voyage; and lastly by the diseases which sheep are liable to contract on board the ship, in being landed, and during their first week on shore. I have seen the beach and hill-sides of a favourite landing place in Port Lyttelton covered with the carcases

of dead sheep. On the other hand, the profits of a successful voyage are, it must be admitted, enormously great.

The price of sheep in Australia, a few years ago, was not more than half-a-crown a head, whereas they could be sold in New Zealand, even in the most wretched condition, for at least fourteen shillings. Still it is by no means advisable for a person, whose object simply is to establish a sheep-farm, to run the risk of importing his own sheep. Let him by all means, if possible, buy his sheep in the country itself. If he has to pay more he will at least have the satisfaction of procuring a much finer and sounder article for his money.

It is sometimes necessary to drive the sheep a long distance, and across dangerous country, either from the port where they are landed, or from their old station. This is another item of risk; – for sometimes as many as fifty sheep may be lost in crossing a river. Further, there is the expense of engaging the services of shepherds, of conveying a supply of provisions up the country, of building a house, and of making the preparations for the sheep against their arrival.

Let us suppose this to be done, and a man to be settled on a sheep-run with three labourers, and a flock of 1000 sheep. The income which he will receive for the first year and a half or two years will scarcely pay half the expenses incident to such an establishment. He may be

obliged to fetch his provisions, and to carry his produce a distance of fifty or sixty miles perhaps. If the place in which he is settled is but little known, he may have a difficulty in procuring supplies at all. If, however, his good management and perseverance enable him to hold out for the first two years, he is tolerably certain to realise a comfortable income, and even wealth in the long run. I have been thus particular upon the opening which sheep-farming presents to men of moderate capital, because it is more easy of access and presents fewer obstacles, and above all promises far surer returns than any other investment.

5. Cattle-farms.

It is, however, not to be denied that cattle-farming presents an opening not much inferior. I knew several families who derived an income of between three or four hundred a year from their dairies, but here it must be noticed, that, while sheep-farming is learnt with comparative facility, a dairy requires great experience, and is altogether a more laborious occupation. Without, however, looking to butter and cheese, there is no doubt that a considerable profit may be derived merely from the breeding of cattle and horses. The principal family in Banks' peninsula supported itself in very great comfort upon a herd of cattle, without even taking the trouble to sell the milk. They made quite as much as they wanted by disposing of a part of the increase, and by fatting bullocks for the market. And the family I speak of had the

most comfortable, and I might even say, beautiful residence to be found in that part of New Zealand. The price of a good cow in New Zealand is seldom less than 20l., and I have known indifferent cows sell for as much. The breed has been introduced from Australia, having been originally imported thither from England. They are, generally speaking, fine and handsome beasts, but by no means such good milkers as the English. The reason of this is, that the breed has been suffered almost to run wild in Australia, and it takes no little trouble to break them in to dairy purposes. On the principal dairy-farms in the Port Cowper district, the produce of a good cow was reckoned at about eight quarts of milk in the morning, and six or seven in the evening; but I have known them give much more. The butter and cheese is of a remarkably fine quality; indeed the Port Cowper cheese is already well known in the Australian markets. The number of cows kept on these dairy-farms, is generally from twenty-five to thirty. A swampy soil is preferred, and the extent of the runs required for the purpose may be between two or three thousand acres. Many persons have introduced cattle and dairy-farming in connection with a sheep-station. This is an experiment the success of which depends on the nature of the station more than anything else, and the neighbourhood of a good market. Altogether it may very justly be said, that no part of the world presents greater advantages, whether for sheep or cattle-farming,

than New Zealand; and money may be safely invested in either, with every probability of a large return.

6. Land as an investment.

It is a favourite speculation with some colonists to buy up sections and plots of land, within the bounds or in the vicinity of a growing town. I myself had a quarter-acre section in by no means the best part of Port Lyttelton, which was let on lease at a rent of 12l. a year, and I hear that the money is very punctually paid to its present possessor. Should the town increase, as it very possibly may, this section will ultimately become much more valuable. There were many plots of ground within the limits of the town of Christ Church, which were put up to sale for 12l. or 20l., and which, in a few years' time, will in all human probability, yield at least that sum every year. It appears almost certain to me, that a capitalist, by the judicious investment of a few thousand pounds in the purchase of building and garden ground near any of the towns I know in New Zealand, might ultimately double or treble the amount laid out. This, however, will be considered as mere speculation, and can by no means be recommended to men of slender means. It was impossible, however, to pass it wholly over in treating of the investment of capital.

As I propose to consider the agricultural prospects of New Zealand separately, and by themselves, it is only necessary at present to make two general remarks. The first being very much

a repetition of what I stated before, that it is not advisable for any settler to attempt to gain a livelihood by simply cultivating the ground, unless he has been brought up from his earliest years to do so: and, secondly, that agriculture in a new country is a peculiarly laborious, and expensive process, which will never yield a return of money spent, except under peculiar circumstances. It has however, at present, a better opportunity in New Zealand than it ever had before, inasmuch as there is a great and increasing demand in Australia for all kinds of produce.

CHAPTER IX. THE MAN OF SKILL.

CHAPTER IX.

THE MAN OF SKILL.

1. Is both worker and employer.

I WILL now endeavour to examine the advantages which New Zealand affords to those persons who may be said to constitute the second great portion of the population proceeding thither from Europe. I allude to those who, without possessing a money-capital, have a certain fund of experience or skill, which is, in many cases, more valuable than any amount of money. It may, indeed, strictly be called their capital, and if so, the difference between them and the former class, will consist solely in the facts, that the first bring in their hands a certain amount of ready money, the second, a certain amount of skill. It sometimes happens that they possess savings also, though seldom to any great extent. Sometimes the two classes may he said to be equally represented in one family. Thus, on paying a visit to the "John Taylor," previous to her departure from Gravesend, I found, among the emigrants, a family which had been engaged for many years in a large printing business, in one of our principal towns. These peo-

ple were carrying out a very considerable capital, and no inconsiderable amount of skill also. By the second class also, I mean particularly those who, with or without savings, are about to be engaged in manual labour of some kind or other; for those to whom I addressed myself in the last chapter, seldom find it necessary to work with their own hands; they employ labour. Those whom I am at present addressing, both employ labour, and work themselves also. For the next chapter I reserve the large body of men who go out as simple labourers, without either the advantage of money or of any decided skill. Having known several artisans and mechanics, resident in New Zealand, very well, I shall describe the circumstances of two or three rather carefully, mentioning the means which they had at their disposal to begin with, the object which they were endeavouring to gain, the way they set about it, and the result, as far as I had the means of judging, of it.

2. Case of a carpenter.

The first instance which I shall take, is that of a carpenter from the North of Ireland, who happened to be a fellow passenger of mine in the "Charlotte Jane." This man obtained an assisted passage to New Zealand, on condition of rendering aid and service to the friend who took him out, whenever he might require it. He was a thorough master of his business: strong, sober, shrewd, and honest; perhaps a more thoroughly valuable colonist never sailed from this country. I need hardly say

that he was of great assistance to his friend; and, as far as his own career was concerned, his savings amounted to a considerable sum of money when I saw him last – probably not less than 150l. or 200l. He had a wife and family remaining behind him in Europe; and his intention was, so soon as he became master of the sum of 300l., to return to the north of Ireland, and either to convey out his family to New Zealand, or to take a small farm in that country. I have had many an argument with him on the subject. While he admitted, on the one hand, that his children were more likely to prosper in New Zealand, he insisted, on the other, that, for a man with a little money, and steady habits, the north of Ireland was one of the finest locations in the world. Perhaps the love which he bore to his country may have contributed somewhat to this conviction on his part. The earnings of this man, as a carpenter at Canterbury, were never less than 1s. an hour. He worked his eight hours in the day, and his employer was always glad to pay him 8s., as he was known to be the best carpenter in the colony. His ambition was to possess a farm, and, if possible, a freehold. I shall take the opportunity hereafter, in treating of the price of land in a new country, of introducing this man's opinion thereupon, which appeared to me conclusive as to the feelings of his class.

3. Case of a shoemaker.

The second case which I shall lay before my readers, shall be that of a

shoemaker, a thoroughly honest and excellent man, who had been for some time resident in New Zealand when I arrived there. He was a German, having been born, I believe, on the banks of the Rhine, and I never shall forget the delight which he manifested on obtaining a sight of a volume of "Schiller," which I happened to have about me. He borrowed it, and I took good care never to ask for it again. This man had been one of the first among the French and German colonists who formed the little settlement of Akaroa some years ago. He has told me himself that, on arriving in New Zealand, he was not worth a single farthing. At present his property, consisting of land, houses, and cattle, is worth between two and three thousand pounds. His neighbours reckoned it at that; and I believe very justly. He commenced life in New Zealand upon the earnings of his trade, the savings of which he gradually invested in the manner above mentioned. When I was at Akaroa, I remember being much struck with the easy, careless way in which he lived – seldom working, except he was particularly solicited. Of him, too, it may be said, that if his interest was connected with his adopted country, his love was with his own old home. He had a very large family, and it might, under such circumstances, have well been deemed madness ever to think of returning to Germany. Yet this he appeared sometimes half inclined to do, solely and only from his passionate attachment to the land of his

birth. His house was quite in the German style; and for his hospitality, I can only say, that, on the occasion of my visit, he made me drink nearly two bottles of wine, and was very urgent in his entreaties to me to stay a few days with him; "when," said he, "I will introduce you to several of my friends, and particularly to my neighbour the Miller, who sings a capital German song." I do not suppose that there was in reality the slightest probability of this man really returning to Europe, inasmuch as he is far too comfortably off where he is to think of leaving Akaroa. Shoes, even of the commonest description, could not at that time be obtained under 20s. a pair, and strong boots cost much more; so that the shoemaker had every reason to sing over his Last. It appears, indeed, that the solidity and durability of the shoes which my friend Breitmeyer (for that was his name) was in the habit of making, had somewhat declined with the increase of his prosperity. He told me, with a knowing look, that he had been lately reproved, by the Roman Catholic Clergyman at Akaroa, for not providing him with better shoes. "On which I answered," said he, "that I had accidentally sent him a pair of Protestant shoes." So much for the German shoemaker.

4. Case of a Scotch farmer.

Let me now give the case of a farmer's son, who brought with him from the south of Scotland, where he was born, a thorough knowledge of the management of sheep

and cattle. This man had, in the first instance, proceeded to Australia, where he was employed as manager or assistant on a great sheep-farm. He then perfected himself in the art and mystery of Australian sheep-farming. At length he accepted an engagement to convey live-stock to New Zealand. He was so much pleased with the country that he determined to remain there; and fortune favouring his intention, he became overseer of a large sheep and cattle station, which an Indian officer had been forming in the middle island. He succeeded so well in this employment that in a few years he became possessed of flocks and herds himself; and is now one of the most enterprising and flourishing farmers in the country; his bullocks and cattle being considered remarkably fine, and, as such, being preferred in the market. This man has told me in so many words that he considered the position of a farm-servant in New Zealand as far preferable to that of many a farmer's son in Scotland.

5. New Zealand compared with Australia as a home for settlers of this kind.

Altogether I have not the slightest hesitation in saying, that, for professional men of this kind, New Zealand presents an extraordinary field for success. Every possible kind of skill is highly rewarded there, as it is, indeed, in most other colonies. It is not to be denied, however, that Australia, and particularly the Port Philip region, holds out greater opportunities to men of skill for rapid money-making. On

the other hand, it is little less than certain, that thousands of those who have commenced their fortunes in Australia will ultimately settle in New Zealand and carry their goods along with them. The reason of this is, that the country is altogether finer, the climate healthier, and the state of society more safe and sound.

CHAPTER X. THE COMMON LABOURER AND THE GENTLEMAN.

CHAPTER X.

THE COMMON LABOURER AND THE GENTLEMAN.

1. Labourer: how he generally emigrates.

LET us now come to the ordinary labourer, who, from having been a common servant, emigrates without means, and without any decided skill or knowledge by which he may create them. The passage of such a man is generally paid for by his friends, or by some society interested in the work of emigration. He remembers England with affection, not unmixed by a remembrance of privation, of hardship, and, perhaps, unfair treatment to which he imagines he has been subjected while he dwelt there. His voyage is often one of sickness and disgust. His first arrival in the land of his hopes not unfrequently damps and lowers his courage. He finds it is true that the wages given for mere labour are twice as great as those which he remembers in England; but, on the other hand, provisions and house-rent are enormously dear. His struggle generally begins in anxiety and sorrow. If, as it sometimes though very seldom happens, he has contributed to the expense of his own passage, he grumbles

at missing his hard earned hoard of £ s. d. from the well known worsted stocking. If his passage has been paid for, without any expense to himself, he considers himself as an exile, and deplores the sudden collapse of his inflated expectations.

2. What he has generally been.

These men have generally been either common farm-servants in some English county, or runners, carriers, and jobbers for other people; and have as such been engaged in a variety of occupations, without thoroughly knowing any one thing. They possess, however, a strong pair of arms, vigorous health, and, generally speaking, a large family of children. If they have been used to a country life in England, they generally know some little about horses and cattle, about sowing and planting, draining, ditching, and fencing. They can drive a cart in the morning, and cobble a pair of shoes in the afternoon. They can sometimes handle the spade and the axe tolerably well, – that is to say, the spade and the axe to which they have been accustomed in Devonshire or Berkshire. Valuable farm-servants are not readily allowed to leave England by their employers. The common run of those, who call themselves by this name in the colonies, have been used to perform the commonest and worst description of farm-labour, at the lowest rate of wage which an English farmer dares offer; and to do it in a slovenly way. They are generally employed, on their first arrival in the colony, by some one who is in

pressing want of labourers. Here, by degrees, they learn such lessons in field-husbandry, or in the care of stock as their new master's business can afford them. They are often made to look foolish by being requested to plough straight, or being chidden because the haystack which they have attempted to build has fallen down.

3. His first struggle in a colony.

By degrees they find their places and become altered men. The condition of those who have emigrated from a town appears at first sight by no means so promising even as this. In every English town there are a multitude of poor people, who manage with great difficulty to keep themselves out of the workhouse, and to earn an honest penny from day to day, "by hook and by crook," as we call it. Such persons, however, are generally far better informed than the agricultural helot. They alight on their legs quicker, and learn a new calling (especially the Londoners) more rapidly. They generally find engagements in a colony as part of the numerous squad of dependants on some large sheep-farm; – they become porters; wharfmen; or work on the roads. Is there a difficult piece of draining which no one else can be found to perform? They are ready to commence it on trial. Have any cattle been missed from their accustomed pasturing ground? They will volunteer to follow them into the densest bush, or the deepest swamp. Among other things they are ready to try their hands as carpenters, shoemakers, tailors, plumbers, and

glaziers, or any other trade at which a deficiency in the labour market may hold out the chance of employment at half price. It is some time, probably a year or two, before they become in any way settled. It is, however, no unusual thing, at the end of a few years, to find such forlorn settlers established in tolerable comfort, and beginning to understand some business. If they have been in any degree decently acquainted with agriculture they ultimately obtain a place which enables them to live, and even save money. Their ambition universally is to possess land, and to be able to call the dwelling in which they live their own. There are instances to be heard of in every colony, of men who landed in such a condition, and remained little better for a considerable time, now riding on their horses, and living on the fat of the land.

4. Instance of the success of an unlikely subject.

I remember one man in particular who appeared, at first sight, a most unlikely subject to succeed in any civilised community. He was by birth a Pole, though he called himself a Russian. How he found his way to New Zealand it is impossible to say. His own account was that he ran away from a French whaler. This man followed a variety of occupations, and passed through the strangest vicissitudes. At one time he was a boatman; at another a sawyer; he might be seen sometimes working in the roads, or attempting to build a house of sods and boughs for somebody almost as poor as himself. At an-

other time he was clearing encumbered wild land at a few shillings the chain; or making posts and rails; or driving wild cattle across the country. He was a carpenter and a cook; a tailor and shepherd; a sailor and a tinker; and a boat-builder; and a sawyer; and a man about town; and, indeed, anything by which he could earn his bread. At last he succeeded in this way: he was engaged to build a chimney, which he managed to do so well that it stood for nearly half-a-year. While this was going on, his services were called for in the capacity of deputy-carpenter. His engagement altogether lasting for above a month he learnt something of the business, and is now on his way to prosperity as a builder. This man may be taken as a sample of a large class. There are thousands of such in England, whom the country is ever seeking to get rid of.

The first impression in the mind of one who had merely been accustomed to read or hear of colonial life would be that this was just the man for a colony. This, however, is quite an illusion, inasmuch as steadiness and thorough practical knowledge are required, at least as much in a new country as in an old one. It is certainly far from being the case, that the greatest part of the common labourers whom Great Britain sends forth to her colonies are of this unsettled class; but it is true that there is always, to say the least, a large minority among them consisting of such people.

5. The better class of labourer.

The really valuable farm-servant; the shepherd; the ploughman and carter; the ditcher; or any one who has really been accustomed to work steadily, and to gain a respectable livelihood in one particular line; are pretty sure to succeed in such a colony as New Zealand, where their merits are soon discovered, and they are prized accordingly. The wages of ordinary labour are from 3s. 6d. to 4s. a day; but this, it must be remembered, represents a day of only eight hours' work. If servants reside in their master's house, their board is generally estimated at about 12s. per week. Engaged by the year, a servant, living in the house, would receive about 25l. A labourer with a wife, and a family of five or six children, cannot easily live in any town of New Zealand upon less than the wages mentioned. So soon, however, as his children begin to earn money for themselves, and he begins to know the country better, his burden will be lessened, and his earnings increased.

The advantages of town and country life may thus be balanced against one another: – if the family reside in a town, the mother may contribute to its earnings by taking in washing; and again, the children will be sure of a good education. On the other hand, house-rent and provisions, generally, are more expensive in the towns than in the country: if they settle in the country, the father of the family will build a house for himself, with the assistance of his master, and live there rent-free, taking a few

acres of ground to use as a garden. All his provisions would be purchased wholesale, and therefore at a cheaper rate; whereas, in the town, he would constantly find himself going to purchase the necessary articles of life at small retail shops. If in the country, he would grow his own potatoes; and receive assistance from his master in various ways, in order to attach him to the place: in the country, too, he would gradually collect live-stock about him; and thus find himself in the surest way to independence and prosperity.

6. Case of a labourer at Canterbury.

The wages which I paid to an agricultural labourer, by no means of the best description, but yet a tolerably well-informed and honest man, were 1l. a week; deducting, however, for days on which he did no work; and giving more for days whenever he liked to exceed his ordinary eight hours of labour. He used, however, to receive, in addition to his regular wages, a supply of milk, morning and evening, during the milking season; and his wife received washing at the rate of 3s. a dozen. This man came from the West of England; and though very well inclined, a cheerful and willing servant, I certainly found him ignorant of some things which he ought to have known. Among other things he was entirely ignorant of the way how to plant, and turn up potatoes with the plough. His belief was that the pitchfork alone ought to be used. He was by no means a good hand at reaping. Other things which he did, were soundly done;

but, not in first-rate style, such as might have been expected from an experienced hand. I engaged him in New Zealand, on condition that he was to build his own house, and not to take inmates, not belonging to his own family, without my consent. He stipulated, for his part, that he was to be allowed to purchase two acres of land at the rate of 3l. an acre, and that a cousin of his, who had come with him from England, should be allowed to stay with him. At the time when he entered upon his service, flour and potatoes, and the other principal necessaries of life, were enormously dear. Flour, if I recollect right, was 40l. per ton; and potatoes, 8l. and 10l. Clothing, and particularly shoes, were dearer than they usually are even in a colony. I found, therefore, that this family, after residing with me on the above-mentioned terms for a year, were decidedly losers by the transaction. On continuing his engagement, the man demanded and obtained an increase of wages. It is, indeed, hardly fair to say that the wages were too little; but I am inclined to attribute his inability to effect any savings to the extraordinary dearness of the time; to his large family; and to his absolutely refusing to work more than eight hours a day as a rule. One thing, which he especially complained of, was the want of education for his children; a calamity which I found it impossible to remedy. Here then was a worthy man who deserved to succeed, and who ultimately will succeed, struggling under difficulties; and appa-

rently not so well off as he was in England. I have since heard that, after my departure from New Zealand, he quitted the farm, and turned his hand to wood-cutting. A good deal of wood for fuel is cut at Port Albert, and carried by boat to Lyttleton. Probably he might earn more by this at times; but the payments would be uncertain, and sometimes he might lose his money altogether; as the boatmen with whom the wood-cutters deal are not scrupulously nice in settling their accounts.

7. Case of a labourer at Wellington.

When I was staying at Wellington, I found a family very much in the same circumstances, in the woody range just above the town. In the middle of the forest, an opening glade showed a cottage on a cultivated patch of ground. There was a garden; and a few household animals stood about. My friend and I sought permission to sit down, for we were weary. Leave was readily granted by the woman of the house, whose voice and words showed that the family were Irish. She offered us a cup of tea, and gave us a history of the adventures of her husband and herself, since they had quitted their native village in Ireland, many years before. We sat there, my friend and I, overlooking the magnificent sunlit landscape of mountain, wood, and sea. She thus told us her story with a smile and a sigh, as she mentioned the name of Ireland. It appears they were from the south-west of that country; and having lost some small holding on which they had been en-

deavouring to subsist; they betook themselves to the manufacturing districts of England. "My husband," she said, "got employment in the brick and mortar business in Birmingham;" by which I suppose she meant that he served the bricklayers with mortar. In consequence of long-continued distress in Birmingham, they determined to leave Europe altogether; and having obtained an engagement with a gentleman, who was going out in one of the New Zealand Company's vessels, they proceeded to Wellington, a few miles from which I found them residing. After their friend had left that part of the country, they had obtained the use of some part of his property, rent-free, on the condition of clearing an acre every year. The man was employed in wood-cutting, and in carting the wood, when cut, into the town. It appears his regular earnings were from 3s. to 4s. per day. The distance from his cottage to the place where he was employed was several miles; and he had to carry all the goods and provisions required in the family on his shoulders, up those tremendous hills. The woman never left the house, except on Sundays, or the holidays of the Roman Catholic Church; when they all used to go together to their "duty," in Wellington. I have given these instances of struggling families out of many more that I have known, in order to stand quite free, in the eyes of the reader, from any attempt to spread the lamentable delusion, that common labourers are sure to succeed in a colony.

8. Looks to benefit his family.

If in the place of this, we take up the assertion which is also readily made, that the next generation, that is, the children of those who emigrate, are tolerably certain of independence and prosperity, we shall discover a great deal more truth in it. It is not that they will be better educated; but they certainly appear, as a general rule, to be growing up freer, healthier, and more able to provide for themselves than ever they would have been in England: and it is the thought of this, which supports their parents through many a hardship; for the poor man alone can tell how sweet a consolation in adversity it is to think – "whatever becomes of me, my children, at least, will be better off than their father."

9. Great desire for land.

I have mentioned before; but I think it right to say it again; that the great desire of all common emigrants is to obtain land of their own. If we consider the institutions of this country, and our laws and customs as regards the possession of land; – if we compare them with those of France or America, we shall see at once how very difficult, if not impossible, it is for the ordinary English labourer, even under the most favourable circumstances, to become a free landholder. I am not accusing the English system rashly; I feel no desire that our institutions in this respect should be altered, so as to resemble those of Norway, France, or the United States of America; I well know that the object and tendency of our system points to the aggrandisement

of a great territorial aristocracy, which is unquestionably a mighty element of imperial power; I would only assert that the possession of land of his own is one of the strongest desires implanted in the breast of our common labourer. It is, indeed, the principal motive which impels him to emigrate. Why is it that such prodigious swarms have sought a home in the Canadas, and the United States of America? The extraordinary cheapness of land has had at least as much to do with this great movement, as the name and ideal recommendations of the new continent. Now, what course has been pursued in New Zealand to satisfy this desire? Has any effort been made to place the English labourer as cheaply as possible on land of his own; in order that he may send home accounts to his kinsman at home, that he has at length found what may indeed be called his promised land? Has the government of that country acted as if it were aware of the important consequences of such an announcement, gradually extending itself, and confirmed at each step, by intelligence from New Zealand, in the English mind? They have not.

10. Cheap land an inducement to emigrate.

But their eyes are, at length, opened to the necessity of cheap land; and there is every probability that a very great increase in the population of New Zealand will be the consequence. It cannot be too plainly stated, or two strongly insisted upon, that the land dealings of the New Zealand Company, and of the Canterbury Association,

were such as to retard rather than promote the peopling of New Zealand. The most absurd attempts have been made to prove the contrary: but after books full of specious fallacies, we are obliged to return to the point which must impress itself, at first starting, upon the common sense of any unprejudiced man; that the sale of land should be allowed to take its natural course, without being burthened by any artificial regulations.

11. Artificial pressure a drawback.

Another great mistake which has been made in directing the course of migration to New Zealand consists in the exertions which have been made to force it in that direction. Whatever excuse may be suggested for such conduct as this on the occasion of first planting a new country, must obviously fall wholly short if applied to New Zealand in its present condition. Let the country work its own way. Let us have no beating up for recruits. There is certainly no occasion, as far as England is concerned, and still less if the interests of New Zealand are regarded. If the colonists experience a want of labourers in the market, they have their own course open to them. Let them vote supplies for the purpose if they will; let them use their own collective efforts to obtain what they want; and let them individually write to their relatives in England on the subject. Let there be no interference either to increase the price of land or to keep up an artificial supply

of labour. Both are injurious to the countries concerned.

12. English character of the proportion of society in New Zealand.

In concluding this part of the chapter, I cannot avoid remarking that one very important feature in the colonisation of New Zealand is, that; however it may have been misconducted in other ways; it has been certainly so far at least successful, that the society there more nearly resembles that of the mother country than can be found in any other colony. I mean that while there is a greater mixture of classes; what we in England have been taught to consider the relative proportions of each have been more nearly attained in that colony than in any other. If this continues, it cannot fail to result in producing a great family likeness between the two countries. The American element, which seems destined to gain the upper hand in most of our colonies, will meet with a greater check here than anywhere else.

13. Gentlemen. – Professional men, first and second-rate.

I feel that I have used the term, profession, and professional, throughout the last chapters, in a manner which may give offence to many who have been accustomed to hear them restricted to the great dominant professions of English life. In doing so, I admit that I have erred against the conventional usage of this country. Perhaps I cannot make better amends than by saying a few words on the prospects of strictly professional people in New Zealand. If New Zealand re-

sembles England so much as it seems destined to do, there is no doubt that corresponding advantages will fall to the share of those who carry professional abilities and energies to that country. Although the church in New Zealand cannot at present boast of any wealth; yet, should that great institution develope itself, as it seems likely to do, no clergyman in New Zealand, who is zealously bent upon doing his duty, will have reason to complain. It is, perhaps, an advantage that there are no prizes, as they are called, to be obtained at present. That such are of great use in the church, as in any other profession, there can be no doubt. They will, however, grow up by degrees; and be none the less objects of honourable ambition, if the New Zealanders themselves retain their appointments in their own bands.

With regard to the medical profession, the market always appeared to me to be somewhat over-stocked: nor is there any lack of lawyers. Ability in either profession is sure to be rewarded. We must simply guard against the erroneous notion, which appears to have been extensively spread in England, that second-rate or broken-down practitioners are likely to succeed in a colony. A colony, in this respect, resembles an old country. People will not purchase second-rate advice unless they are absolutely forced to do so by the want of good advice upon which they can depend.

14. Young gentlemen without adequate provision.

I have been compelled, in more instances than one, to lament the disas-

trous consequence of packing out young men, and especially young gentlemen, without provision, without ability, and without practical knowledge of any kind to shift for themselves in a colony. Such unfortunate individuals either become clerks in a government or merchant's office, at some very low salary; or descending lower still, they are fain to swell the list of hangers-on at some farm or sheep-station. It is rare, indeed, to find them engaged in any remunerative occupation. The utmost that can be said is, that they are learning the ways of a colony, and storing themselves with information and experience of some kind or other, in expectation of the time when their English friends may be able or willing to send out funds for their establishment in some regular business.

CHAPTER XI. ON THE DISPOSAL OF WILD LANDS.

CHAPTER XI.

ON THE DISPOSAL OF WILD LANDS.

1. Englishman's ambition to possess land.

WHEN a common peasant hears of a new country, a vast uninhabited region over the sea, what is the first remark he makes? "Land," he says, "must be easy to obtain there. Here it is impossible for me to get any;" and the thought uppermost in his mind is, "a farm of my own, if it is but small; a plot of ground, a garden." The feeling is universal among the English common labourers, and very general among the mechanics. It is their ambition, and it is an honourable ambition. If things could be so managed in England, so that a poor man, by the sweat of his brow in youth, could conquer land enough to maintain his age, and make himself a sure home, it would do more to make the old country young again, than all the fine books of advice to our poor neighbours that have ever been written. Your tracts and your prizes, compared with that, are as milk and water to strong wine: for the desire of land has been planted by Heaven in the human breast. Indeed, in old times, less than a life-tenancy was not held worth the acceptance of a freeman.

Our countrymen will pass through fire and water for a freehold. They will cross the great deep under decks, where they are packed as close as sheep at Smithfield. It is a natural and holy feeling which leads them to endure such martyrdom. Now, what is such a country as New Zealand meant to be? It is one of the remedies for the miserable inequalities of English life: there men go to right themselves. Again, we all know, that the possession of land gives a man a moral as well as a social lift. It clears his brow: it makes him stand higher in his shoes, though they be but the same old pair as before: it is Nature's own saving-bank: it will hold up a man in hard times, when other savings are exhausted: then the land will support him, and still remain his own.

2. The normal thought.

When the ancient nations of the earth sent out their swarms, the first step, on landing in the new country, was, as a matter of course, a division of the land they fell on, among themselves. Every man drew his lot, and entered on his allotment: and, for the people of those times, it was the only safe, as it is the most natural, way of dealing. Hence, I wish to adopt it as a kind of text for an inquiry. How shall waste lands be distributed in a modem colony? In such an inquiry, perhaps I may be allowed to go through the exact process which has led me to a certain conclusion on the subject. Not bent on persuading any man, let me simply give the considerations which have persuaded me.

I began by thinking that there must surely be some plain intelligible principle; and, if I assert that it may be found to be a very simple principle perhaps it is not much further from us on that account. Men push their wits to a distance, while the object of their search is often at their feet. But if such a principle can be discovered: if I can point out a plain and simple plan, which may be said, by a law of its own, to regulate the disposition of waste lands in a new country; it will need a very strong case indeed, and very cogent arguments, to set it aside in favour of any artificial system whatever.

3. Two leading considerations.

I find myself led forward by the two following considerations. The first is – What makes the worth of land? the second – For whose benefit are common lands to be disposed of?

4. For whose benefit are wild lands to be disposed of.

The last is not difficult: for surely no one will deny that common lands ought to be administered for the greatest possible good to the whole community. It is not the interest of the buyers of land merely, or of the grantees of land, which is to be regarded. The mercantile interest; the interest of those who hold stock; the interest of the common labourer; the interests, in short, of all who may become possessors of land come into the question. The man who, having money, wants to buy land cheap, is not to be made master: neither is he, who having bought, wants to raise or keep up the price: neither is custom

or precedent any conclusive plea on either side. The common welfare, then, of the community is to be master: and to be so, it must have a voice to make its commands known. But when its voice can be constitutionally ascertained, I believe that its decision will be found to depend upon the other question – What makes the worth of land?

5. Elements of worth.

What, in other words, makes it a possible or a desirable acquisition? Not mere fertility; mere depth of soil; the tallest woods; nor the purest water. Who would care to invest sixpence in the fattest crown lands in Timbuctoo? Nor yet security of possession; if the blessings of climate and the neighbourhood of countrymen be denied. Nor yet are all these advantages, if taken in a sum, worth notice, without the addition of the old laws and the old religion, which men can scarce better learn to want than the necessaries of life. Both the first, and also the second nature, must be supplied.

Nowhere can all these elements of prosperity be found together. To secure the presence of those elements which are indispensable, we must be content to want the excellence of some others; to want some altogether, perhaps. To secure the main essentials, we are fain to accommodate ourselves to omit others. We would fain have a bond of fate for the greater; upon which consideration we are ready to forego the smaller advantages. Let it be enough, then, that the soil shall not be so rich, the position so central, the climate so magnificent; we can afford to be mode-

rate in these respects, if we have but English faces around us, English words, English justice, and English religion. These are the true antecedents of an English home; the presence of these makes the land desirable. And wherever you have a body of men presenting a fair sample of English society, you are pretty sure to have these great requisites, and in them to have the first condition, without which your land is not worth having at a gift. In other words, the presence of a society of our countrymen is the first item in the worth of land.

It calls up a value into being; a value where none existed before. For what is an acre of land in itself, apart from the head and hand of man? It has no existence, far less any value. There is in land a passive power, which slumbers till the corresponding power is actively exercised upon it. That active power resides in the hand that tills the land. Land then, in itself, is a mere possibility; nothing more. The worth of land then is simply what man makes out of that possibility; and the worth of waste land in a new colony, is just that which the community has laid out. Laid out, first to constitute itself; and, secondly, to enable the individual to lay hold on his purchase. It is certainly necessary that there should be the form of a purchase, in order to constitute a title; but the consideration paid on entering into possession of waste lands, is not so much a price, as a charge for what has been done. I maintain that it should be held to re-

present a value separate from the land; a value given to the land, rather than contracted from it. In short, the natural principle of a land-charge is a public reimbursement, in which the individual pays for what the community has done, or is to do for the land. Has done, or is to do. It is a charge for service rendered, or to be rendered, attaching necessarily to the land.

What has been done then? First, the community has made entry on the land by one of its members possible, by constituting itself. Secondly, in order to make a title, all will agree that land must be surveyed. The country must be surveyed, to guide settlers in their choice; and, again, that they may have a map of their estate. It must be surveyed and mapped, and marked out, that others may know it: again, it must be secured to its owners by some legal instrument or other. Surveyors and lawyers' work costs something; but not so much as road-making – an expense which certainly attaches to the land, for it greatly facilitates an entry. Both main and cross-roads then, but certainly main roads, being particularly necessary to the prosperity of the agriculturist, add an unquestionable item to the bill of service rendered, or engaged to be rendered to the land.

There are, therefore, two services of worth conferred on the land. The first general; the second more particular. The first indispensable; the second either indispensable, or, at any rate, of the highest utility to the occupier of land. And

as there are two services of worth, so are there accordingly two items of charge representing these services. Add these two items together, and they will fairly constitute a land-charge, the justice and expediency of which can never be argued away. And let the sum total be distributed over the arable acreage of the settlement. Let us, for instance, suppose the expense of surveying and road-making is estimated at five shillings an acre, and suppose that the preliminary cost of first settling is as much again. This instance will put a charge of ten shillings an acre throughout the whole district.

One of the greatest sources of expense in establishing a new settlement in such a country as New Zealand, may possibly consist of payments to the natives. This is, however, properly speaking, an accidental charge, relating unquestionably to land where it exists, but of too particular a character to require any special notice. It may be very fairly referred to the head of general preliminary expenditure.

6. Objection and answer.

But is there any other charge of the same character as these, and which ought, therefore, for the same reason, to fall upon the land? To determine this, let us appeal to the principle which forms the basis of the theory, which I have been bold enough to lay down. The worth of land is created by the community. The value or worth here is exactly the product of a calculation of what has been or is to be done. Following this out, we have observed two

conditions. The service rendered is either of an indispensable character, or, at any rate, is of direct benefit to the occupant. To put this in other words, the charge represents a service rendered, immediately connected with the land. The items of charge hitherto suggested are of this nature. Nor will the principle upon which I am working, recognise a charge of any other kind, without defeating itself, without losing its simplicity and its truth. Thus much presumed; let us return to our inquiry. Is there any other charge, which, according to this condition, ought to fall on the land?

We may fairly enough be challenged to show any real difference between the value and saving created by road-making, and the value created (let us say) by a great education system, with schoolmasters all over the country. The presence of the latter is an unspeakable advantage; the schoolmaster's neighbourhood would be preferred; that preference would indicate value, for a man will pay more for land near a school; and if the school is established at the public expense, a man may as well pay his share when he enters on his land. Here is your own argument of "service rendered," it will be said. Here is a distinction without a difference. No; there is a most decided difference. No doubt every useful institution increases the eligibility of the settlement, and consequently the availability of land; but no doubt also that this may be done indirectly as well as directly. You may have a hundred use-

ful institutions, each directly bearing on its own object, and indirectly promoting the general welfare; but before I can bring myself to charge the expense of each of them on the land, I must see a direct and necessary connection. As it is, I cannot see why such institutions are to be created and supported in that manner. They are not more connected with the land than with anything else. You may have foundations for law, theology, education generally; medicine, music, and everything else, down to the broad-sword exercise. The community, not content with a single church, may choose to ally itself, by endowment, with various denominations of Christianity. I should decidedly decline, for my own part, to pay half-a-crown, or even sixpence an acre, in aid of the Wesleyans; and I have no doubt they would feel at least as great repugnance in paying a pound, or even ten shillings an acre to the church to which I belong. Still, it may be said, such cases do not include institutions of utility common to all. Well, courts of law and legal officers are of universally acknowledged importance. But it has never been proposed to create a fund for the purpose of paying for them, by levying a charge on every acre of land. On what principle is the expense of the one, and not of the other, to be charged upon land? If divinity be deemed unattainable without a land-charge, why should it not be accompanied by its sister professions – law and medicine? And ought we not to have a militia-

charge? These institutions may be as reasonably charged on land as certain other institutions; that is to say, it would be equally unreasonable and absurd in either case. Where then are we to draw the line? What is to be charged on the land, and what is not? Fortunately a line exists to remove the necessity of inventing one. What is of direct service to the land, that naturally falls to its share. Let that be the price of land, and nothing else.

My distinction, therefore, implies an essential difference, which is more than can be said of the arbitrary artificial lines of demarcation chalked out by the high price theorists.

7. A high price, advocated as a financial measure, impolitic.

But abandoning this, will it be said that the income arising from the sale of land is a common revenue, which should be raised to the highest amount possible, that it may yield the largest return. A few remarks to that. First, if it is not fixed, it will soon be down; for all colonists I have ever met are for a low price. But if it is fixed for more than one year as a tax, it is repugnant to a free constitution. Secondly, – It is never for the interest of the people, to allow their revenue to be larger than is absolutely wanted; but, granting that it is – to increase the charge is not the way to make the sum taken larger. Thirdly, – If a high land-charge be recommended as a tax, it is the most insufferable tax ever heard of, because it hits a man hardest when he wants his money most. Tax? why it

is more like a confiscation; but grant that it can be endured, it is still in the highest degree impolitic; it is nipping increase in the bud; it is sapping the resources of future strength. Why the hundred that is collected in such a manner, is not a simple hundred. That hundred contains the germ of other hundreds, thousands, or tens of thousands, at the very moment you take it away. It is a tax on a common industrial undertaking; a thing unheard of, except perhaps in Turkey.

A high price, therefore, as a financial measure, is as ludicrous as it is dangerous. It is much like another plea which is occasionally advanced, that the waste land in a settlement is the common property of the settlers, and that they ought, therefore, to keep the price high, to make it as valuable as possible. As a man who divides a sum of money between two pockets may say, "I enrich myself by paying out of my left-hand pocket into my right-hand pocket."

If the waste land is really the common property of the colony, do the colonists then gain anything by keeping up the price against themselves? It is a case of two pockets. The public is only a nominal gainer, and at the same time the individual purchaser is a real loser. But if they keep it up against incomers, such a proceeding is not the most likely plan to advance their sales, or to increase their population.

8. imaginary discussion by leaders of a new colony.

And here, the better to meet the various objections which press upon me, without reviving disagreeable associ-

ations, let me for the moment dress up an imaginary case; and make the canvass large enough to admit the question under discussion in all its bearings.

And yet not so imaginary a case after all; for the case I shall put is one which may very well occur any day. The time of Victoria resembles in some respects the time of Elizabeth. Let us suppose, then, a hundred English gentlemen, and a mixed multitude under their guidance, preparing to start for New Caledonia, let us say, or Vancouver's Island. Let us imagine their leaders assembled in council at the house of some great man. One of them makes his statement of the preparatory expedition. The principal and subordinate pioneers are to sail in a ship by themselves, with a force of workmen at their disposal. The whole expense of the necessary preparations for the reception of the colony will, the manager makes out, cost a considerable sum; and this sum of money must, he represents, somehow or other be raised immediately. They resolve themselves therefore into a committee of ways and means. At length, after much discussion, their leader rises; a resolute man, and not without experience in these matters. "Gentlemen," says he, "let me remind you of the terms of our charter;" here he lays his hand on the charter, which we will suppose was lying on the table. "This charter," says he, "grants us a tract of country in Vancouver. That tract of country is granted to

certain gentlemen here present, to hold as trustees, for the use of the colony which we are forming; that trust is to expire as soon as a certain number of colonists arrive in that country. It then instantly shifts to the legislative assembly, which, elected on the principle of universal suffrage, will then become possessed of full legislative, as the governor whom they elect of executive power, within the limits marked out on our map; subject, however, to certain imperial rights and reservations which appear in the charter, and which must not be infringed under pain of forfeiture. At present, therefore, our affairs are under trusteeship, but the power of that trusteeship is very rigidly laid down.

"First, Every trustee is a bona fide colonist.

"Secondly, The trustees can only raise money for one purpose, to enable the colony to settle itself in the first instance; they can do no more.

"Thirdly, The money so raised is to be strictly accounted for to the legislative assembly, as soon as it meets. These accounts are to be regularly audited then and there, and closed. All the outlay which shall seem to the assembly to have necessarily or reasonably been made in starting the colony, will then be formally taken up as a charge on it, to be defrayed by whatever means the legislative assembly shall see proper.

"But, Fourthly, on the one hand, land (at the rate at which it shall be decided to sell it by the legislative assembly) shall be deemed a legal payment proffer; and, on the other hand, if it be not

proffered, parties to whom the colony stand so indebted, may claim a proportionate quantity of land at that rate. Now," says the leader, "this question of land gave rise to considerable difficulty during our negociations with government. Some people wanted us to ask for unlimited power over the land; some were for laying down a very high price; and some were for none at all. Many experienced advisers told us that the more we asked the less we should take. Others said, you must start by borrowing largely. To which it was replied, that our legislative assembly would upset such an arrangement. The majority thought it was dangerous, that we should have the power of settling the price of land at all. We are a society of brothers; we are not to raise the price of our common stock upon one another.

"You would remember," he will continue, "the discussion last month on the price of land, pending our negotiations: you remember the arguments by which that discussion was brought to a close in Mr. Straightforward's speech. 'If I remember right, gentlemen,' said he, 'it is proposed to us to raise a great fund for a church-establishment; another for an educational establishment, and a third to support the charge of an emigration to Vancouver. And it is proposed to divide out the charge of creating all these funds upon the acreage in the settlement. Now the land, under proper management, may carry a good deal, but will it carry all that? Some people want us to sell it at the upset price of 5l. an acre. They

propose to begin with an immense expenditure, and trust it to our land to pay all. Gentlemen, I suspect such ultra-magnificent ideas. Depend upon it,' said Straightforward, 'our land is worth nothing till we are at work upon it. Besides, gentlemen, if we sell land in London – -if we make London our market – -if we have a shop and agents in London, observe what follows. We leave our masters behind us. It is a grand thing, a most important thing, to have a body of clergy among us; but can we not provide for them by our legislative body, when we get to Vancouver? Education is a most necessary feature in a plan for a new country; and as we shall govern ourselves in all such matters, may we not be allowed to vote annual supplies for it? As to immigration, it is of such vast importance, it will never run a risk of being neglected in our colony.

"'But when it is proposed to us, all at once, to bind down the main condition of our future greatness in a bond to raise money to found institutions, I confess I feel not a little alarmed. Why, when these institutions are formed, who is to preside over them but ourselves? If then we cannot be trusted to organise them on the spot, will it not always be found unsafe to trust ourselves with their protection? Why, that is what it will come to. We are to stand godfathers to unborn generations of men; to create estates for our children's children; let us then trust ourselves to do it by degrees, and if we

are the men I imagine, it will be done none the worse. And if you create establishments, offices, charges, and vested interests, and so forth, before you set out, supposing you find alterations necessary afterwards, these same vested interests may not be easy to deal with; our money might possibly be misapplied. Whatever there is of this nature to be done, let us do it for ourselves in Vancouver.

"'Some people make an argument out of the case of getting the money in one lump; so much for this; and so much for that; and all to be paid down on the nail before you see your land-order. I don't like that argument; it overreaches itself. It is too easy, perhaps, if you sell land among a great connection of friends in England. But remember this. Every penny the farmer pays more than can possibly be helped, is a penny out of his flock and his field. Is it not foolish to lay on such a burden at the very moment when a colonist is preparing to go into action? It tends to lessen employment. He has the less to pay to workpeople, less to invest, and consequently less work is done; and consequently the returns will be smaller, the settlement poorer; and woe betide us if it be found that high-priced land comes into the market for next to nothing. What becomes of your financial scheme, when land finds its level under your price? That intelligence makes its way to England in a hundred letters. In our charter,' said Straightforward, 'it is with generous confidence proposed, to give to our

legislative assembly the power of disposing of our land in whatever way they may appoint. Let us not pretend to forestall their movements, even if permission to do so can be obtained.'

"Such," says the leader, "were the arguments of Mr. Straightforward, and so conclusive did they then seem to us, that we at once determined not to think of parting with an acre of land before our arrival in Vancouver; besides that a project forestalling our means, in order to begin that in England which can only be set about well in Vancouver, will make the task of guiding you out there doubly difficult. It will create a thousand checks, under which our principal managing man will pine away, and be ready to break his heart. We shall have quite enough to do to raise the sum necessary to start the colony.

"Under our present arrangement it happens, I might almost say fortunately, that to raise that sum anywhere or anyhow, except among ourselves, is next to impossible. Let us, then, advance it to ourselves. If we had all bought land at a high price, we should have disbursed far more than we are now called upon to raise; and whatever we do so raise among ourselves, will return to us in the shape of land, at whatever rate our legislative assembly may fix, very soon after our arrival at our destination."

Let us now suppose that the necessary funds are raised among the colonists according to the leader's plan, and that, in a year's time, the whole party find themselves at some port in Vancou-

ver. Once there, it is quite unnecessary to ask whether they would ever establish a high charge for waste land, not having been previously induced to do so in England.

9. Pro's and con's reviewed.

Now, in the imaginary sketch which has been thus drawn, I have attempted to answer some of the arguments in favour of a high price; some of the arguments which draw their force from the vivid representations of the desirableness of certain institutions, which, by itself and in itself, I fully and cheerfully admit. There is a certain grandeur in the word "institutions" which pleases the ear. While we allow the imaginative faculty to dwell upon a magnificent vista in the future, in which we ourselves form the principal foreground, we suffer ourselves to be persuaded into much which our sober judgment might disclaim – it is enchantment: an unlimited belief ejects common sense as too vulgar a guest for that palace. We then begin to discover reasons, arguments, and strong grounds of connection in the air. We enjoy the opium-eater's delicious frenzy.

I have suggested that it might be better policy to found and provide for institutions, religious, educational, and so forth, from other sources; and by so doing, that the new people will be the better able to keep the reins in their own hands. I have attempted to show what expense really applies to the land, and what does not. I have suggested that a high-priced system is dangerous to start; and, that, when started, the funds so

raised in one mass, and the way of raising them, are very liable to misapplication – that it is a hard measure, if regarded as a source of revenue, and financially inefficient; that it tempts improvidence, and invites a division of that control, which ought to reside only in the colony; that if once set afoot, it becomes very difficult to do away with; lastly, that a high land-charge is a plant of English growth, which seldom or never springs up in a colony. Perhaps, it will be answered: after all, you are only shifting the burden to another part of the back. That is true, but it is not all the truth; true, it is shifted from one day into many years. If any man has a ton weight of goods to carry on his back over a hill, he will not attempt it all at once; he will break down, I think, if he does. My plan distributes the burden, so as to suit the back. My plan takes in time, but that is not all; by taking in time, it leaves those who are to pay, masters of their own position, masters of their own purses.

For instance, after a few days' consideration, in the case of the ton of goods, the man may change his intention of carrying it himself. He may determine to send it by water, or by waggon. And this, too, is in accordance with justice; it tends to make those who pay the money, not only in name, but in very fact, masters of their expenditure.

A settler may say, indeed, "If land he sold low, my servants will leave me; they'll become

proprietors." I wish such a man joy of his discovery. He supports a high price, because it tends to keep his neighbour in service and out of land. But if any misfortune (which Heaven forbid!) should happen to him, should he by any chance have to begin life again, he will speedily change his note.

10. Opinion of a working man.

I remember, when in New Zealand, talking to a friend, who happened to be a carpenter, upon this land-question. He observed, "I should like to settle here. I have saved money here. I should like to start a farm, but it will never do to pay 3l. an acre." This was in Canterbury. Other gentlemen may quote passages from books and great authorities in England. I'll quote the carpenter against the books; the working man against the writing man; the living man against the dead book.

"People would stay here," said the carpenter, "and buy land with their savings. Money would circulate here, which is now perhaps going to other places; fresh labour would be introduced. There is not a man here who has not a friend he would like to see out along with him. I wonder how many have told me that. In the street I have heard it, in the shop, in the tavern, in the dwelling house. One has a brother in England, and, as soon as he is settled, his brother is coming out. When is he going to settle? Oh, he will settle when land comes down. Or else his wife and family are coming out; they are only waiting to hear that he has a snug place

of his own to put them into. Or it is 'my cousin,' 'my sister's son,' 'my father and the old woman.' These people would vest in land, and take passages for their friends; but they are waiting. Why should they pay for one acre that which they believe will, in a short time, give them perhaps six acres? They are waiting. Sir, they are in the right, and they show their sense. When their time arrives, more will be bought and sold, trade will be brisker. How much more land do you suppose would be sold then than now? Shall I say twice, three times, six times as much? It is an axiom in dealing generally, that the less the charge the more is taken. Look at the Penny Postage. A high price wherever it can be avoided is a loss." I believe the carpenter was right.

11. Does a low price necessarily encourage monopoly?

It may, perhaps, be said, that, if waste lands are sold at a low price, it will tend to throw large tracts of country into few hands; that we shall have land-sharks buying up the colony by wholesale, and retailing it out to their neighbours. Let me then ask where it is you are most likely to have speculation of that kind. What are the circumstances which tend to originate and foster a spirit of land-speculation to the detriment of the public? Is it under a system, the object of which is to let the land find its natural level from the very first; or is it under a system, by which land is forced and screwed up to an artificial price? Will not any man confess

that it may be more reasonably looked for under the latter? But if it be really a subject for apprehension, it is always in the power of the government of a colony to check, and even extinguish land-sharking, by putting a tax upon uncultivated land. At any rate, the argument, "we keep up the price, in order that others may not be able to do so," would hardly be held valid in the mouth of merchants holding all the flour in the settlement. It presents a real evil as an excuse for avoiding the possibility of one more remote, if not wholly imaginary.

12. The remaining difficulty.

The truth is, there is only one real difficulty on the cheap-land side of the question, which is this (and I have entered into it before).; the expense of starting a colony without selling land in England; for that is the only place where a high price will ever be fixed. The case of my opponents, in this respect, is easy enough to manage. Land must and shall be sold, they say; and even putting the price in the shape of a tax, they say it is easier to levy one great tax, the amount of which is known to everybody, and which no one need incur unless he pleases, than to levy two or three little taxes from various sources year by year.

To distribute the amount over a length of time will, they say, necessitate many calls, and cause much expense in the gathering. This has been partly answered already; but I must say, there still remains a difficulty. The difficulty lies in the unfairness of the challenge. It is not

enough to show, that, by throwing a very heavy expense on the land, we retard the growth of a settlement. No; we are expected, in addition, to devise a scheme, in doing which we may be met by endless objections from gentlemen, who forget that very strong objections attach to their own scheme. My own ideas on the subject I have already given. If then the difficulties on either side are balanced, it may be argued, that in the case put by me, there is not so great or so lasting a risk to the body of the colony, as the risk implied in the dangerous facility of spending money raised by means of English land-sales, at some fixed high price; for such a method is wholly superfluous, if the colonists keep the money in their own hands; ruinously extravagant, if it gets into other hands.

13. Practical solution in the case of New Zealand.

But this difficulty is fortunately, as far as New Zealand is concerned, superannuated, because the primary settlements in that country have already been made. The price of waste land in that colony is now, I trust, no longer likely to be interfered with by the fancies of English theorists. The colonists will pursue the common-sense course of selling land as cheap as possible, and they will restrain the grasping spirit of speculators by a graduated tax upon uncultivated lands.

CHAPTER XII. AGRICULTURE.

CHAPTER XII

AGRICULTURE.

1. On a great scale not likely to succeed.

LET me commence what I have to say concerning agriculture in New Zealand, by a broad general view of the opening which it presents as an investment for capital. It happens, curiously enough, that the conviction which I have always entertained upon this subject, is very simply and plainly asserted in a memorial to their governor, by the inhabitants of a district in British North America. They state it as a "well-known fact, that agriculture carried on with capital and hired labour, has never been successful in their country; that, therefore, farming is not a profitable investment for capital, except where it is connected with some additional establishment or office." And they might, perhaps have added some such general qualification as this, "where it is carried on under peculiar circumstances." I believe that the fact thus broadly stated in that address, is equally true of almost all incipient communities. Fully agreeing, then, with the position above quoted, let me endeavour to explain –

First, – Why I believe that agriculture, "unless under such circumstances," will seldom succeed as a general rule; and,

Secondly, – Under what conditions agriculture is likely to succeed in a newly settled country.

2. Why.

First, then, we must remember that capital never gains its full power until the country becomes so populous, as to render labour easily obtainable. Until, in short, there are thousands of labourers competing for employment. And of all operations, it probably exerts its influence upon agriculture last. We see this even in our own highly cultivated country; for although there may be ample room for improvement in almost every kind of business, a glance at our agricultural condition, as it exists in many of the most fertile counties of England, will show us that there is more need of increased skill and additional outlay of money in this than in any other line. If this is the case in such a country as England, the rule will apply with infinitely greater force to New Zealand.

The particular difficulties with which the agriculturist has to struggle in that country, are, in the first place, a deficiency of cheap labour; and, secondly, the enormous expense of clearing land at the first outset. Till the first is removed by the number of labourers annually emigrating thither becoming far larger than at present; and until the primary difficulties of a first cultivation have been overcome by the clearing of some considerable extent of country,

it is not to be supposed that agriculture can be successfully pursued on any considerable scale. The first difficulty may be by degrees overcome, if the colony itself will adopt a judicious line of policy, to secure a regular influx of labourers. It will probably take a considerable time to remove the second. It will be long before a British farmer, with capital in his pocket, can take his departure for New Zealand, with a tolerable certainty of being able to select an estate already cleared, with the view of putting it into a high state of cultivation.

3. The different kinds of soil in New Zealand Forest.

The soil of New Zealand may be divided, as regards agricultural purposes, under four heads. Let us take, first, the forest or bush-land.

This is generally exceedingly rich; and although the surface of the wooded regions is often of so hilly, and even precipitous a character, as to render cultivation a matter of difficulty, yet there are also millions of acres, consisting of slopes, plains, and valleys, containing as fine land as any in the world. The obstacle here is the great expense of clearing away the timber and the brushwood, with which land of this kind is almost always heavily encumbered. The plan which has been adopted lately, is to leave the large trees standing, and to cultivate the spaces between them, having cut up and burnt the smaller trees, and extracted the roots which lie near the surface of the ground. In this way cultivation is commenced. Potatoes are planted in the ground which has been loosely

scratched, in what they call the American fashion. When these are removed, the ground may be sown with corn or maize. It is almost impossible, however, to introduce the plough with any effect, so long as the large trees remain standing. To cut them down, to carry them away, and to dig up or blow up their enormous roots, is a matter of incredible labour. Sometimes, where there happens to be an establishment of sawyers in the neighbourhood, they may be made instrumental in clearing away the timber, and thus it may become even a source of profit. I have known timber alone, on good bush-land, sold standing at the rate of 40l. an acre. A case like this is, however, altogether exceptional; it can only happen in the vicinity of a town; nor will the sawyers have anything to say to the roots and stumps of the forest trees, which must be removed before the ground can be cultivated in anything like an effective manner.

I have been told by a farmer, who has managed to clear a considerable number of acres of heavy bush-land, and who has had every facility for arriving at a correct judgment, from the length of time which he has spent in New Zealand, and the nature of his struggle there, that some of his best ground had cost him not less than betweeu 30l. and 40l. an acre merely to clear. It was effected very slowly, a little being cleared every year; and, probably, under such circumstances as rendered its cultivation rather a matter of necessity than emolument.

Perhaps the best way of proceeding with land of this kind, in a part of the country where there happens to be a tolerably thick population of Maories – is to engage them to do the work in their own fashion; having first discovered some remuneration which will be particularly acceptable to them. This can hardly be effected by those who have lately arrived from England, inasmuch as a considerable time must elapse, and much intercourse must have taken place between the white settler and his Maori neighbours, before they can understand one another. It is extremely difficult to gain the confidence of the Maories. To conduct a negotiation with them, requires great experience and a thorough knowledge of their wants and habits. When such a confidence once exists, they may be employed as labourers with very great advantage. A Scotch family, which had been for many years resident in Bank's Peninsula, prevailed upon their friends, the Maories, to clear several acres of bush-land in this manner, and they effected it most beautifully. The arrangement was, that the family should furnish seed-potatoes for the first crop, which the Maories, having cleared the ground, were to plant in their own fashion; and the first crop was to belong altogether to them. This is only a single instance out of many which came under my observation. Had the same Maories been engaged as day-labourers, after the common English fashion, they would, probably, have done nothing but idle away their

time, and cheat their employer. As it was, their conduct in all such cases was extremely honourable.

4. Fern.

The second description of land is that which is overspread with fern. Where the fern grows luxuriantly, it is a tolerably sure indication of a good soil beneath. I have seen it ten or twelve feet in height, and of such a tangled and matted growth, as to be perfectly impenetrable. On a fine summer night, the effect of a fire raging over such a country is extremely fine. It completely destroys the upper growth of the fern, burning it down to the very ground, which it leaves covered with a thick crust of ashes. It does not, however, in the smallest degree, further the removal of the underground growth or root, for the fern springs stronger than ever after a fire. The strongest ploughs, the stoutest teams of horses or oxen may be fairly tired out and beaten, in the futile attempt to cut through, or rather, to tear up the bed of fern-root beneath the ground. These roots sometimes run to a depth of two feet. It requires repeated ploughings to break up the surface. If this is continually done, the under roots at length die away. The upper roots are collected into heaps and burned, for the purpose of enriching the ground, which is often very much exhausted by the fern, which it has had to support in such immense quantities. Fern-land is, in the opinion of good judges, most decidedly inferior to forest or bush land. The crop which it yields to the husbandman is smaller, and it re-

quires a renewal and refreshment sooner. In some places, where it appears impossible to force the plough through the fern-root, grass seeds are sown, and the growth of grass and fern is again and again burnt off as often as possible. Under this process, it is observed that the fern gradually dies away, and the grass takes its place.

5. Swamp.

We will now come to swamp-land. This is, perhaps, the richest and strongest land which can be conceived, but its condition is, at the same time, such as to render it extremely troublesome to the agriculturist. It is generally overgrown with toi-toi and flax-plants of an enormous size, whose roots are sometimes deep and difficult to uproot without the mattock. It is, perhaps, under water during the winter months, and full of treacherous bogs even in summer. In the first place, then, large ditches or drains must be cut, in order to prevent inundation, and gradually to carry off the mass of water, in which the soil may almost be said to float. The effect of a few good drains on such land is perfectly magical. The flax-plants and other weeds, being deprived of the moisture which they require, become dry, and the whole may frequently be burnt off in the first summer. The largest of the roots being then removed by hand-labour, the plough may be trusted to upturn the rest. This kind of land, when once drained, and cleared of its wild vegetation, is doubtless more valuable than any other, and lasts longer.

In speaking of the flax-plant, we must guard

against the common error of supposing that it has the smallest outward resemblance to the cultivated flax which, we see in our fields. This plant, which has obtained the name of flax, from the properties of its magnificent fibrous flag-leaf, more resembles the bulrush than any other English plant I know. In the early spring, a stalk shoots up in the centre of every plant to the height of many feet. This stalk is adorned with scarlet flowers, which contrast very gratefully to the eye with the bright green of its leaves. The clearest and sweetest honey-dew may be pressed out of the cup of the flower.

6. Grass.

The last kind of land is that which in its wild state only produces grass, will generally be found to be exceedingly poor, and in nowise worth the expense of cultivation. It is generally covered with stones, in places overspread with sand, and can scarcely be said to possess any loam at all. Still, wherever the Tutu Bush is found growing, as it frequently does in large beds, the grass-land will be of a superior quality. The tutu grows to about the size of our hazel, but, in the colour of its leaves, it resembles the brightest holly. The leaves are of an oval shape, pointed at the ends, and soft to the touch. They are poisonous to newly introduced sheep and cattle. It produces a fruit, which is also considered by most people poisonous, very much resembling our elder-berry.

7. Expenses of clearing, fencing, and building.

Probably the expense of clearing fern and swamp land in the commonest

and rudest manner, may be estimated at about 10l. an acre. The expense of draining in the one may stand against the extreme difficulty of getting rid of the fern-roots in the other. I have heard, however, of land of a mixed quality, in the neighbourhood of Christchurch, in the Canterbury settlement, being brought into cultivation at the rate of about 8l. an acre. It is obvious that for land of this description, it is fully worth while to pay a high price.

Draining and fencing are among the most expensive of the precautions which it is necessary for the farmer to take, if he wishes to reap the fruit of his labour. A very good ditch and bank fence, sufficient to stop the inroad of a bullock or a horse, may be executed for about 14s. a chain. Irish labourers were in the habit of making fences of this kind remarkably well at that price: such a fence, however, requires continual repairs. A barrier of posts and rails is much more expensive; and it is further objectionable from the fact, that ordinary New Zealand wood is by no means durable. Quicks were being introduced very largely at the time I left the country; and the day is probably not far distant when New Zealand may be able to boast of its beautiful thorn-hedges.

Any one purposing to farm upon at all a great scale will have to pay very largely for outhouses and farm-buildings. In nothing, as far as I am aware, has deceptive information

produced more injurious effects, by leading the English public astray, than in the accounts which have been frequently published of cheap building in New Zealand. So far from this being the case, the commonest buildings, if substantially erected, are extremely dear. How can it be otherwise, when the New Zealand timber is so notoriously expensive, and, generally speaking, of such poor quality; when bricks are frightfully dear and bad, and carpenters' wages enormous?

If it were not for the hatred which I bear to misrepresentation, as an evil in itself and in its consequences, I should ask for no better amusement than to comment upon the accounts of house-building in New Zealand, which have been published in many apparently respectable works, which are certain to deceive the generality of readers, by the extreme plausibility and apparent concern for minuteness with which they are manufactured. Understatement on the one hand; exaggeration on the other, have been often employed by the so-called friends of colonisation.

8. Amount of crop exaggerated.

The latter breathes in almost all the accounts, of enormous returns of agricultural produce. We hear of sixty bushels to the acre as a common occurrence. We hear of ten and twelve tons of potatoes to the acre. I do not deny that such crops as these may have been raised in one or two instances; but I do deny that this is the general yield in any part of New Zealand. The general yield per acre of good land is not so great as in

England; if we except only the Taranaki region, which certainly possesses enormous agricultural capabilities. It must be added, that New Zealand is inferior to England as an agricultural country, on two accounts, independent of a comparison of soil. First, because the winter there is not sufficiently severe to put the ground in good "heart;" and, secondly, because the high winds often injure the crops, and sometimes ruin the harvest.

9. Under what circumstances agriculture may succeed.

Let us now consider the conditions under which agriculture may have a reasonable prospect of succeeding. It may succeed in the vicinity ot a town, for instance; where it is possible to obtain labour without such very great difficulty as in other places; where a number of hands may be collected upon an emergency; and, above all, where there is a market close at hand, and a good road, on which to convey the farming produce.

I believe, also, that land may be farmed to advantage in connection with cattle or sheep. The presence of such advantages as these is sufficient to explain to me the success of certain farmers, while others have lost money, or failed altogether. Again, the neighbourhood of a well-disposed village of natives may, I am sure, be turned to good account; but even with such helps as these, what kind of farming is it which is likely to succeed? Is it the thoroughly scientifical, high-pressure style of farming, such as may occasionally be found to answer, but by no

means universally, in an old country like England?

10. Peasant proprietors.

No; it is the farm of the peasant proprietor which succeeds. It is a small farm, cultivated by the hands of the family which owns it, with the occasional assistance of friends and neighbours. Such a family is not, generally speaking, dependent upon labour apart from without itself. It can generally muster a knot of relatives and connections, and should there, for any length of time, be any decided deficiency, a letter and a sum of money is despatched to cousins in England, who are generally quite ready and willing to go out as recruits. It is, perhaps, rather the fashion to cast discredit upon this class of cultivators, and it is quite true that their implements are not so neat, their operations so skilful, or their crops so heavy as those of the model large farmer; but I am sure, on the other hand, that they are individually freer, happier, better citizens, and better Christians than those who have usurped their places in so many of our English counties. They answer to our old yeomen, and remind us of the times when England was merry England still. The great proprietor with his middle men, and his labourers under them, may, perhaps on the whole, produce more out of the ground, and make a handsomer show; but depend upon it, that there is more happiness in the other case, if there is less magnificence. There certainly is less care and misery. A great part of New Zealand is eminently adapted for a population of this kind.

11. Market-prices.

A list of market-prices, as they stood last autumn (spring), of agricultural produce in some of the principal settlements, is a very suitable conclusion to this chapter.

AUCKLAND, OCTOBER, 1853.

| £ s. d. |
Flour | 20 to 22 0 0 | a ton.
Potatoes | 7 to 8 0 0 | "
Wheat | – 8 0 | a bushel.
Maize | – 7 0 | "
Barley | – 6 0 | "
Oats | – 10 0 | "
Cheese | – 1 0 | a pound.
Butter | – 1 3 | "
Eggs | – 1 3 | "
Beef | – 0 7 to 8d. | "
Pork | – 0 6 | "
Mutton | – 0 8 | "
Sawn Timber | – 18 to 20s. | per 100 feet.

WELLINGTON, OCTOBER, 1853.

| £ s. d. |
Potatoes | 8 0 0 | a ton.
Flour | 25 0 0 | "
Wheat (Sept.) | 0 7 0 | a bushel.
Maize (Sept.) | 0 6 0 | "
Oats (Sept.) | 0 7 6 | "
Cheese | 0 1 3 | a pound.
Fresh Butter | 0 1 8 | "
" Eggs | 0 2 0 | a dozen.
" Beef, Mutton | 0 0 8 to 9d. | a pound.
" Pork | 0 0 6 to 8d. | "
" Fire Wood | 2 0 0 | a cord.

NELSON, OCTOBER, 1853.

| £ s. d. |
Flour | 23 0 0 | a ton.
Potatoes | 7 0 0 | "
Wheat | 0 9 0 | a bushel.
Barley | 0 7 0 | "
Oats | 0 8 0 | "
Cheese | 0 1 0 | a pound.
Butter | 0 1 6 | "
Sawn Timber | 0 14 0 to 15s. | per 100 feet.

LYTTELTON, AUGUST, 1853.

| £ s. d. |
Flour | 30 to 35 0 0 | a ton.
Potatoes | 6 to 8 0 0 | "
Wheat | 0 10 0 to 14s. | a bushel.
Barley | 0 8 0 to 10s. | "
Oats | 0 9 0 to 12s. | "
Mutton and Beef | 0 0 7 to 8d. | a pound.
Fresh Butter | 0 2 0 | "

DUNEDIN, SEPTEMBER, 1853.

| £ s. d. |
Flour | 25 to 30 0 0 | a ton.
Potatoes | 6 0 0 | "
Wheat | 0 10 0 | a bushel.
Barley | – – – | "
Oats | 0 5 0 | "
Beef and Pork | 0 0 4 to 5d. | a pound.
Mutton | 0 0 5 to 6d. | "
Fresh Butter | 0 1 4 | "
Cheese | 0 1 0 | "
Eggs | 0 1 4 | a dozen.
Milk | 0 0 6 | a quart.
Sawn Timber | 0 14 0 to 15s. | per 100 feet.
Fire Wood | 0 15 0 | per cord.

NEW PLYMOUTH, OCTOBER, 1853.

| £ s. d. |
Flour | 20 0 0 | a ton.
Potatoes | 4 0 0 | "
Wheat | 0 7 0 | a bushel.
Maize | 0 6 0 | "
Oats | 0 8 0 | "
Cheese | 0 1 3 | a pound.
Butter | 0 1 0 | "
Eggs | 0 0 9 | a dozen.
Bacon | 0 0 9 | a pound.

Comparing these tables together, we see that flour was cheapest at New Plymouth, and dearest at Canterbury; that potatoes were cheapest at New Plymouth, and dearest at Wellington and Auckland; and that butchers' meat was cheaper in the southern than in the northern settlements. The Wellington table shows very high prices; and, upon comparing it with another some two months older, I find that the price of potatoes had nearly doubled in that time. The high prices given in the Lyttelton table appear more discouraging than they really are, if they are employed as any test of the progress of Canterbury, which cannot be compared with settlements many years older than itself. The date is rather earlier than that of the other lists; and yet, on the other hand, as the Wellington markets appear to have had an upward tendency during the same time, I can hardly believe that the Canterbury prices would become lower as spring advanced.

The younger the settlement, the greater the

fluctuation of prices. In the first year of Canterbury flour went up in a very few months from 20l. to 45l. a ton. It is quite unnecessary to give the reason of this. Every year, unless extraordinary and unforeseen events occur, will tend to lower the price of provisions in New Zealand, and to lessen the fluctuation of the markets; for, as the confidence of the people in their own resources, and their knowledge of the country, its weather, soil, and seasons increases, it will become far easier to foresee the coming of periods of scarcity and superabundance, and to anticipate their effects.

CHAPTER XIII. PASTURE LANDS AND THEIR PRODUCE.

CHAPTER XIII.

PASTURE LANDS AND THEIR PRODUCE.

1. Plains of New Zealand.

ERNEST DIEFFENBACH appears to have been ignorant of the existence of the great plains of New Zealand, when he was there in the year 1840 – the features of the country were then only beginning to be known. He saw at Wellington, Auckland, and Taranaki, hilly countries greatly encumbered with woods. He knew nothing of the Rangitikei, the Ahuriri, the Wairarapa plains; nothing of the vast plains of the southern island. Hence he saw in New Zealand only a country for a strictly agricultural population; and he rejoices that in this respect it differs from Australia. At present everybody knows that these islands present a great opening for sheep-farming, as well as for agriculture.

2. Sheep-farming and Agriculture aid each other.

Let us inquire into the advantages which a mixed region of this kind affords to colonisation and the colonist. Were we to choose between a purely pastoral and a purely agricultural district to plant a people, we should, perhaps, after long hesitation,

decide on the latter, as the cultivation of the soil seems the best basis on which to found material greatness in a community; or if we were thinking of individual and immediate prosperity, we might prefer a land adapted to flocks and herds, where the outlay of a small capital will yield the speediest and largest returns. The desire after great possessions, in some shape or other, is more easily realised in the latter; and the enormous expense generally attendant on the breaking up of wild land for cultivation is avoided. A union of the two gives increased facility to the agriculturalist, and permanent advantages to the sheep-farmer, which he otherwise could not expect. „ „, ,

3. Character of these plains.

The features of great pastoral districts are seldom rightly imagined by Englishmen, who almost universally form their notion of the grass-lands of a new country from the look of their own meadow-land, taking away the hedges, and filling up the back ground of the picture with groups of graceful trees; in short, the park round some great gentleman's seat is the common farm-servant's beau ideal for a new country of this kind. In the Highlands, indeed, or on waste downs and wolds, they know better; but elsewhere it will certainly be found so. They never think that our English pasture-lands have attained their present thick carpet of beautiful grass by the constant grazing of cattle, by skilful and long-continued cultivation, and a mixture of grass-seeds. The unpastured plain of

a wild country presents a very different appearance. The wild grass is long and thin, often choked with stones, and infested by fern, and prickly shrubs and bushes. Perhaps there are only a few woods to relieve the sunburnt surface of a vast plain. You may walk from Banks' Peninsula to the Wai-Makariri, and only see three or four woods the whole way.

Some say that these regions have all been heavily timbered no very long time ago, and that the forests have either been overthrown, and buried by some great natural convulsion; or that they have been burnt down, for fires are very common in New Zealand during the summer and autumn. Now, if they had been burnt off, we should find young trees, and a vigorous vegetation shooting up, to supply the place of the old wood. But this is not the case. Nor is the common pasture-land deep enough in soil to support a growth of timber. I therefore incline to the first, as the likeliest explanation of the present state of the New Zealand grass-lands, if ever they have been extensively timbered. And that they have is rendered not improbable by the fact, that in places where deep ditches have been dug, or where the ground has been worn away, or has slipped (as happens near hollow brooks or overhanging river-banks), we often used to find the prostrate bodies of huge trees: again, we found good soil, capable of sustaining great trees, under layers of sand and dross, which had been deposited upon them, with perhaps clay and a

very thin mould, producing only very poor grass on the present surface of the ground.

There is a Maori legend that vast forests were burnt down in an attempt to exterminate the Moa. The tradition probably means no more than this: that when the Moa stalked upon the earth, there were forests, where trees no longer grow; and, both being gone, they might have been (and were) implicated in a common doom. But we may judge the better of the quality of this grass, when we learn that it requires between two and three acres of grass-land to provide a year's grazing for a sheep. Some estimate the extent required at four acres; while, on some farms, two are found enough. But we shall be safe in taking an average of three; the government allowance is two-and-a-half I think. When the Bishop of New Zealand, in a letter relating to Port Cooper, published among the Canterbury papers, talked of four sheep to the acre, of course he meant to imply artificial grasses; and some thousands of acres have been thus cultivated for grass at Auckland. But his statement, unqualified when it appeared by this explanation, gave rise to the wildest speculations, and the most absurd fancies, even among parties who ought to have better known what he meant. On the other hand, it should not be overlooked, that with every year's grazing the natural grass improves in quality and quantity. Careful farmers burn off some portions of their wild grass-lands every year. On the soil then bared,

they scatter mixed seeds of long-cultivated grasses: these spring up and spread rapidly.

4. Advantages of a pastoral region to a colony.

As Mr. Weld, who is an extensive sheep-farmer himself, and knows the country perfectly, has recently published a very complete account of the way in which sheep are imported in New Zealand, it will be utterly superfluous for me to enter into any calculations, to show the nature or the profits of that business, as an investment for capital; besides which, this chapter treats of the pastoral capabilities of New Zealand more generally, as a means of wide-spreading prosperity, as the great condition of an export.

The advantages of sheep-farming, on the scale on which it will be carried on in various parts of New Zealand, may be summed up thus. It greatly accelerates the progress of civilisation by promoting agriculture; by supplying the colony with the means of purchasing far larger foreign supplies than would be possible otherwise; by introducing a class of men into it who are decidedly better off than the ordinary emigrant. A few words upon each of these heads will not come amiss.

5. How it promotes agriculture.

It promotes agriculture, for it furnishes a market; it establishes a home-demand for agricultural produce of every kind, which could not otherwise be obtained. The sheep-farmer does not care to inclose, drain, and cultivate fields. To do so he must withdraw his capital from the business

which he has chosen as being the most lucrative. He needs not to grow turnips to feed his flock in the winter, for the snow never lies on the ground in the plains. He has his paddocks; he has his potato ground, and his garden; but he very seldom attempts grain-growing. Of course he buys his flour in some neighbouring town, probably from the same mercantile establishment whence he gets his tea, sugar, salt, and tobacco, shoes, and linen (for all these things are often sold indiscriminately by the same firm); and to which he carries his wool and tallow, or cheese and butter, if he has a dairy. In the town there will accordingly be a demand for flour, apart from the wants of the town's people, and of the immediate neighbourhood; and in an ordinary state of agricultural prosperity, it is most likely that the wheat from which that flour is ground will be grown in the adjoining district. At any rate, the common farmer will have an inducement to grow more wheat, barley, oats, &c., than he would otherwise venture upon. Of the neighbourhood of Christchurch, Mr. Deans, of Reccarton, has frequently predicted that in a few years' time it would be exporting wheat, &c., to Australia, and perhaps California.

Auckland, Nelson, and Taranaki, already export both wheat and potatoes. If they do this, they may surely be expected to supply their own sheep-feeding neighbourhood, which will, with the town population, which it is sure to foster, be no small increase to their market. Sheep-

farming, then, promotes the agricultural interest.

6. How it acts upon trade.

Again, these pasture-lands, when stocked with sheep, are, in themselves, enough to supply the colony with means for the importation of foreign supplies. There cannot be less than 15,000,000 of acres in New Zealand fit for grazing, of which there are probably 5,000,000 in the northern, and about twice that quantity in the southern island. This will include a vast deal of very poor grassland, and some very rich. Probably, as above stated, in its present state, taking good and bad together, we should have to assign not less than three acres for each sheep. The country, according to this, would feed 5,000,000 sheep as it now is. I see that Mr. Fox, in his "Six Colonies," states, on the authority of an experienced grazier from New South Wales, that the grazing plains opening from, or near Cook's Straits, taking in almost all the best grazing-land in the north, and much in the southern island, will carry from six to seven millions. I am, therefore, it may be, understating the capabilities of the country. Perhaps Mr. Fox's calculation goes upon the supposition of at least a sheep to every two acres. Perhaps his estimate of the number of acres in New Zealand available for this purpose is higher than mine.

The number of sheep at this moment in New Zealand, it would be exceedingly difficult to state exactly. Probably not far off 500,000. The

official returns are always under the real number.

Great numbers are yearly introduced from Australia, so that if we take the import and the increase of the stock now in the country together, we may safely conclude that in the course of the next ten years, the island will be fully stocked up to their present sustaining power. Various obstacles, however, may occur, to lengthen this period indefinitely; for instance, the import may cease; a change for the worse may occur in pastorage regulations; or vast districts of excellent grass-lands may remain unoccupied, from difficulty of access, or want of security of tenure.

Sooner or later, however, the whole will be pastured, and as the soil and grasses improve by grazing, the number of sheep will become, in the course of time, very much greater than they could possibly be at present, even if the whole country were fully occupied.

Let us, however, take 5,000,000 shearing sheep as the lowest estimate, upon which to calculate the extent and value of New Zealand's principal export, as it will become in no very long time. Each sheep will yield from 3lbs. to 4lbs. of wool annually, which may be worth from 8d. to 1s. a pound in New Zealand. Let us take the yield at 3lbs. a sheep, and say that the wool is worth one shilling a pound. This, on 5,000,000 of sheep, will give 750,000l. worth of wool annually produced. Such a wool-

export may be certainly anticipated for New Zealand.

But it will, in all probability, be much larger, because this calculation is based upon the extent of wild grass-lands, only taking them in their present state. We do not here take their gradual improvement into consideration, neither do we stop to inquire whether the wool arising from sheep pastured upon the artificial grass of cultivated land, as is the case at Auckland, may not find its way into the market; or whether large tracts of fern-land may not, by degrees, by constant burning, be converted into grass-land.

These are contingencies which it is enough merely to mention; they shall not enter into our calculation. Wool, indeed, represents only a part of the profits of a flock. As soon as a flock contains that number of sheep which the owner does not intend to exceed, their wool may be set down at about one-half the whole proceeds; but wool is the only item in the returns of a flock, except tallow, which enters at all largely into the question of an export. It ought not then to be forgotten, that in taking wool, we do not, strictly speaking, take more than a part of the produce of a particular description of property.

7. The amount of future export of wool.

Reckoning, then, the New Zealand wool-export of ten years hence (1864), as likely to represent a money value of 750,000l., let us note what is likely to

be the population of the country by that time, for it is impossible to judge the real worth of an export to those who raise and make it up, unless we know their numbers, and their habits of expenditure, as well as of production. If we rate the present number of white people at 30,000, as before stated, and account that they have more than doubled in the last eight years, we shall be warranted in concluding that these 30,000 will have become at least 60,000 by the year 1864.

The Maori population, now about 100,000, is yearly decreasing. Altogether, I should place the New Zealanders of 1864, white and dark faces together, at about 150,000. But this calculation is framed upon the supposition that the whites will continue to increase at a little less than the rate of the last few years, while very possibly they may increase much faster; in which case so also will their powers of production; and that the Maories will continue rapidly to decrease; possibly, however, the decay of that nation may yet be arrested. However, if my estimate holds good, we shall see in ten years a wool-export from New Zealand of 5l. a head upon the entire population. This result of an inquiry, based on the export of only one article of commerce, indicates a future of remarkable prosperity for New Zealand. In the next chapter I shall pursue this subject further, by considering the other principal items of export, and the corresponding import, which the colonists are likely to require.

8. Prospects of continued demand.

It may be said all this is very incomplete; it hangs in the future, according to your own showing; but in the meantime the demand for wool from New Zealand and elsewhere may fall away instead of increasing. Inform us what is the state of the English wool-market, upon which your New Zealand export must depend. Will it continue accessible to influences from the utmost corners of the earth? Is the English woollen-trade in a sound condition? And will not the rapid strides of Australian enterprise cut you out of the market, if it continues? Will not Australia undersell New Zealand in the wool-market? And will not the price of wool greatly decrease before such competition?

9. Australian competition.

As to Australian competition, it is not likely to be overwhelmingly formidable, for several reasons. The Port Philip region (Victoria) exports more wool than all the rest of Australia put together. But this export is not likely to extend. "The rapid increase," says Mr. Westgarth, "in the production of wool, which characterised this colony (Victoria), up to the year 1852, has now ceased;" and he adds, "The future prospect, as regards our wool production, is less satisfactory, from the immense consumption, both present and perspective, of sheep as food." (Westgarth's "Australia," in Appendix, page 85.) In other words, the value of the carcase is steadily gaining upon that of the fleece. Besides, in Australia, the gold-

diggings draw away the sinews of labour from this and every other pursuit; and New Zealand has no Australian droughts to fear. It is not impossible, if the gold-fields are not worn out, that in ten years' time New Zealand may rival Victoria in the amount of her export of wool and tallow. Victoria, in 1852, sent 20,247,453lbs. of wool, which was worth at least a million of money. It is quite possible that New Zealand may be sending nearly as much in 1864.

The English wool-market.

The answer to the other question depends upon the state of the wool-market in Europe. There was a considerable import of wool into Britain during the last century, when the supply, which at that time came principally from Spain, was between three and four million pounds annually. An importation from Germany succeeded that from Spain. This reached its height in 1836, when it amounted to 31,766,194lbs. It has since then declined greatly, in consequence, I believe, of the introduction of a cheaper article from Australia. In 1810, the amount of wool imported into England was nearly 11,000,000lbs. In 1830-40 it reached from thirty to forty millions. At present it is about 80,000,000lbs., of which more than half comes from Australia, the rest from the continent, the East Indies, South Africa, &c.

Since the woollen-goods-export from Britain is diminishing, this increasing demand for foreign

wool in England, must be owing either to a diminution in the home supply, or to the flourishing state of the home woollen market, which would be the best pledge for its continuance. The number of sheep in England, and the quantity of wool yearly obtained from them, is really quite unknown, although many economists have pretended to make calculations on the subject. Before the present year is ended, we shall, in all probability, be in possession of some important facts connected with this class of agricultural statistics.

11. Induces a valuable body of settlers.

The prospect of sheep-farming in New Zealand tends to introduce a superior class of colonists; and who are they likely to be, and whence do these valuable men proceed? The highest and lowest classes of English society are generally to be found together, both in England and in the colonies. The middle class are the real exclusives; their reason probably being a feeling that they are worth more than the others; that they have more to lose by failure, and more to gain by success. They are brought up to business-like habits, and are very knowing in money-matters. Such are the people who have made England so rich and comfortable a country as she is. Farmers, tradesmen, and small country and town gentry – they are great middle-men, advancers, traffickers, managers; they virtually govern, often without ostensibly directing; they work hard, but not as the servants of others. It is strange, indeed, to

speak of the two great extremes of English society, the upper and lower, as being so intimately allied together; but this, at least, is true, that our aristocracy and peasantry are much more closely bound together by common tastes, by general and by continued intercourse, than either can ever be with the great middle class, which overrides them both, and which adopts and assimilates into itself all the successful thrift of the nation.

It is principally from this class that men proceed in a condition to take up and stock waste lands adapted for pasture. In the hands of these the available wealth of the country is to be looked for. Possessions and property are elsewhere; but hardly and seldom, ready unencumbered wealth. Gentlemen colonists are almost universally poor, sometimes even discreditable, luckless, generally of a certain pretension, and an assuming manner, which seems to throw out a challenge to the far more acute, persevering, and wealthy man of business; as much as to say – "You are very substantial, and I am almost ragged (a half-paid official, perhaps), and yet mark you, there is not a soul does not recognise in me something you have not, and never can have, which pleases them," &c.

The gentleman generally goes out to a colony for something good – a government situation, in short. The man of business is certainly desirous to get everything and anything he can; but there is much to which he is too sensible to aspire.

On the other hand, the life of the poor working emigrant represents an incessant struggle to get into the middle class: he hates the individual; but he likes the position. This middle class is all in all in a colony; everything moves to it, and everything depends upon it. Yearly it takes up its hundreds or its thousands from the ordinary commonalty. It threatens to swallow up all; so that servants and labourers are very hard to find; till, moved by countless letters and large offers, fresh swarms of helots pour forth from the British islands, to have their trial, and be in their turn either received or rejected by the great class, which is, in fact, the colony. The United States is nothing else but an enormous, an overwhelming middle class, with a few proscribed gentlemen (a thousand, perhaps, who keep to themselves, too glad to be allowed to live), and millions of Negroes, and English, Irish, Scotch, Welsh, French, and German servants, to black their shoes, wheel their barrows, make bricks, &c. This, however, is unexampled prosperity. In the English colonies, generally, and in New Zealand in particular, the small business-capitalist is the man wanted. There are thousands of such men without openings in England. The pasture-lands of New Zealand present such an opening. The fact is neither unknown nor unheeded; for emigrants of this description are beginning to go there, and they constitute, in a new country at least, the only genuine working upper class.

CHAPTER XIV. EXPORTS GENERALLY.

CHAPTER XIV.

EXPORTS GENERALLY.

1. Necessity of an export to a colony.

WHAT will the export be? is one of the most important points to be ascertained in founding a colony, for no colony can possibly subsist without a trade of some kind. It may indeed be merely a carrying trade; but this is a rare case, and must depend upon some extraordinary accident, or advantage of position. As a general rule, no colony can have a trade; and without trade, no colony can flourish; unless it produces some article of commerce which can be exchanged to advantage.

The original money of the first settlers in any new region is soon spent, and cannot possibly be replaced, except by what they can make, procure, or grow for sale.

Its place may be supplied temporally by the influx of new immigrants bringing fresh means; or, by a foreign outlay, involving, perhaps, the presence of government officers and troops, paid from without. The first is very precarious, and unreal in its effect; the second not only pre-

carious, but positively prejudicial to the best and highest interests of the colony. If then the colonists are to have a continual supply of manufactured goods, to which they have been used all their lives, and without which they will find it impossible to exist in comfort; and if that supply is to increase with their own increased number, it is plain that they must look to their new country for means to pay for it year by year.

2. Exporting Resources of New Zealand.

New Zealand has extraordinary resources for this purpose, which are only just beginning to be developed. Her export of wool, as above calculated, alone will, in a few years, be large enough and valuable enough to counterbalance any import she may require; her agricultural capabilities also, setting aside the absurd exaggerations which have been circulated in England, are really very considerable. Whatever doubts might have existed before upon this head, are now entirely dispelled by the fact that, during the last two years, the produce of New Zealand has found its way to Australia in considerable quantities, where a ready market, at highly remunerative prices, exists, and may be counted upon for flour, wheat, barley, oats, hay, cheese, butter, potatoes, maize, onions, ham, bacon, &c.

This export proceeds principally, if not altogether, from the settlements of Auckland, Nelson, and New Plymouth. I extract the following summary from the Examiner, a Nelson newspaper, September 3, 1853: –

"The total value of produce exported from Nelson, within the last eighteen months, irrespective of the wool and other produce sent from the Waiarau to Wellington, which has been considerable, is 27,082l. 15s. These exports are exclusive of those sent coastwise."

The Auckland export of 1852, was valued at more than 50,000l. It is increasing rapidly. It is, however, only right to say that these lists include many non-agricultural articles of commerce as, from Auckland, kauri-spars and gum, copper-ore, and oil; from Nelson, houses in frame, shingles, laths, window-sashes, and coal; from both settlements, flax, and sawn timber. The simple agricultural export of Taranaki is, compared with its population, greater than that of either; and this too, while its land is more heavily timbered, and its extent far smaller.

Although the character of the ordinary New Zealand timber, with the exception of the kauri pine, is far inferior to that of the British, and its price, even on the spot, occasionally extravagantly high; still it commands a market in Australia, which is rapidly extending itself.

The flax, of which so much has been said, fetches at present, but a low price in the English market. "In 1831-2, the English import amounted to 15,725 and 15,867 cwts. respectively; but it fell off in 1835 to 7,812 cwts.; and since then, only trifling quantities have been imported." Since then the natives have found more profitable employments than preparing flax. What they send now is of a very inferior quality.

If a cheap process of manufacturing it could he invented, so as to induce the colonist to engage in it, we should soon see a very considerable trade in flax.

Whale oil sometimes appears in the New Zealand export tables; but since the fisheries have been well nigh destroyed, large quantities can only enter into the list accidentally and indirectly. Now that the seas of Ochotsk and Japan are the great whaling stations, you will not have the Americans, in whose hands the trade is, coming down to Auckland or Wellington. Their recruiting stations are in the North Pacific – the Sandwich Islands being the chief. Colonial whalers may frequent Auckland and continue to discharge some oil there; but since whales are now scarce on the coasts of New Zealand, the trade as such is over.

The mineral riches of the country, consisting principally of coal and copper, are as yet scarcely touched. Copper ore has been sent from Auckland, and coal from Nelson to Melbourne, but in small quantities.

3. Statement of entire export.

The total exports of New Zealand were, in 1848, worth 44,215l.; in 1849, the return is confessedly vitiated by error; in 1850, 115,414l.; in 1851, 84,158l.

Exact returns for the years 1852-3 have not yet made their appearance; but there are certain ascertained facts which leave scarcely any doubt, that the amount and value of exported produce

has vastly increased within the last two years. If the value of the Nelson export alone for 1852, was rightly rated at 10,000l., it appears by the statement given above, bearing date September, 1853, that it was doubling during the last-named year. The Auckland exports of the March quarter 1853, as compared with the same quarter of 1852, are said to show an increase of 14,000l. The last yield of wool in the southern province (as it was called) is valued at 60,000l.: in 1853, the ship Stately took from Wellington a cargo of wool, worth 25,000l. The increase of the wool export from Wellington, since 1846, is as follows: –

1846 | £2,447
1847 | £2,716
1848 | £7,674
1849 | £14,761
1850 | £13,241
1851 | £22,047
1852 | £25,835

More than a tenfold increase in seven years; which can only be accounted for by the fact that it was the work of importation, as well as increase.

Looking at these figures; considering the immense Australian demand, and the progress from 1848 to 1851, we may safely set down the value of the entire New Zealand export for 1854, at above 200,000l., into which wool will enter to the amount of 75,000l., or one out of three; and

affirm that the whole export trade has quadrupled in the last seven years.

Now, if we may confidently anticipate at least a five-fold increase in the export of wool, during the next seven years – a result which may be arrived at by an entirely different process from that which takes a comparative view of the progress of former years; and if the whole trade quadruples in seven years; what will be the relative proportions of wool, and all other articles, in 1861? It may be seen in this table –

Entire export trade of 1854, about
(Quadruples in seven years.)
£225,000

Entire export trade of 1861, about
£900,000

Wool export of 1854
(Will be five times as great in seven years.)
£75,000

Wool export of 1861, about
£375,000

Entire export 1861
£900,000

Consisting of Wool
£375,000

" " All other articles
£525,000

Whereas, according to proportion of 1854 –

Wool | £75,000
All other articles | £150,000

The whole export, therefore, excluding wool, will increase three times and one-half in the next seven years. But the proportions of this calculation may be deranged by various disturbing causes – such as rate of demand, and influx of population. It is at best, only an attempted approximation; such as may serve to illustrate the great capabilities of the country.

4. Comparison of exports.

Placing the real value of the exports of the British Islands, at from 3l. to 3l. 10s. a head; those of France, at less than one-third as much; those of the United States of America, at from 6 to 7 dollars; we may draw a favourable conclusion, if exports are any test, as to the comparative prosperity of New Zealand.

We are not, however, warranted in pushing such statistical facts as these, to what might, at first, appear their legitimate conclusion. The vast difference between old and new communities can never be measured by a standard merely material; and even if this were possible, to select the amount of export as a standard of comparison, setting others aside, would, I admit, be most unfair and delusive. Otherwise, what inferences might not be drawn from the Australian gold export, which, reckoning the population there at half a million, would be, at the very least, 20l. a-head. Why, the annual wool export from the same country is at this moment worth two millions sterling; or 4l. a-head: – being altogether more than 40,000,000lbs.

The only fair conclusion which it would be wise or even allowable to draw from the statistical accounts before us is, that the exporting power of New Zealand, relatively to its population, may be favourably compared with that of almost any other country in the world, certain auriferous regions excepted.

5. Effects of a large export.

A society which can export produce to this extent, and find a ready market

for it, will be able to afford itself an unusually large proportion of foreign goods; whether necessaries of life, comforts, or luxuries. By far the greatest portion of these, indeed almost all the manufactured articles of daily use, whether of clothing, furniture, or machinery, will come directly or indirectly from the British dominions. They constitute too long a list to insert here. The ordinary colonial family is a much better customer than the ordinary English family: they can afford it better. And those articles of consumption, which the British empire does not supply, or supplies only in part, such as tea, coffee, sugar, tobacco, and wine; but which so largely swell the trade of the empire, are consumed much more commonly and largely in a prosperous colony than in England. They will, in course of time, be obtained much cheaper. I am sure that a labourer's family drink at least twice as much tea in New Zealand as in England. At present, they get it indirectly, by way of Australia, which raises the price; but before long, they ought to be able to buy good tea for about 1s. a lb. It does not cost more than 6d. a lb. wholesale in China. They use sugar in proportion; tobacco, in very great quantities; wine, they often prefer to spirits, a taste which, as eminently conducive to sobriety, deserves every encouragement.

It belongs to the best part of the old English character, to live well; to enjoy thoroughly the family life; to have everything handsome and

substantial about the house. We see it in the neatness and beauty of the well-ordered English cottage. This old-fashioned taste will not be lost in New Zealand.

6. Importance of material prosperity.

I am desirous not to estimate this prospect of material prosperity one whit too highly. It is perhaps deceitful, perhaps full of danger. Better, I heartily admit, a decent God-fearing nation, dwelling in a barren and scanty corner of the earth, struggling with hardship, existing on hard fare, ill clothed, and ignorant of comforts and luxuries; better such a nation, greater, braver, wiser, happier than ever so prosperous a multitude of Sybarites, if ease and plenty must need cause men, in any degree, to forget and neglect the higher purposes of life. But yet I am surely not wrong in estimating even material comforts very highly, when they are evenly spread over the whole surface of a people, and not the property of one class only. Comfortable circumstances are a vast element of power, a great means of intelligence. Men, who need not work more than eight hours a-day, unless they are debased by some evil habit, may attain to a glorious civilisation. The conquests of time, treasures of learning, legacies of good and great men, civil place and influence, and, above all, the sweet solace of home, may be theirs to a degree, that our poor over-worked English drudges, can never know. Material, you may call it; behold, then, the material of a better world!

CHAPTER XV. REVENUE. INCOME AND EXPENDITURE.

CHAPTER XV.

REVENUE. INCOME AND EXPENDITURE.

"Wy, he goes agin war, agin indirect taxes,
Agin sellin' wild lands 'cept to settlers with axes."

l. Customs.

THE Revenue in New Zealand, arises very mainly from "customs." An ad valorem duty of 10 per cent., on goods of almost every description, constitutes by far the largest item in the budget. It is surely hard and impolitic to tax the material stock-in-trade which a settler brings with him into the country, at the very outset of his adventure.

2. Hardship in certain cases.

On the arrival of the first body of the Canterbury colonists, at Port Lyttleton, Sir George Grey, who happened to be there at the time, was pleased to suspend this tax, for the space of one year, but we were all (if I remember right) obliged to make declaration, that our goods were bond fide intended for our own use, and not for sale. The misery and loss of an additional unpacking, and packing again, upon first landing in a newly-settled country, are indescribable. Still, if customs duties are to be levied at all, exceptions of this kind

cannot readily be made; if they are, very soon consignments of all kinds will make their way in covertly, under some evasion or other.

3. Question concerning customs.

The question then arises: Are customs the best way of raising the necessary revenues? What is their principle? Is it applicable to a new country? Supposing the new society to have the power of managing itself, and to be in tolerably flourishing circumstances, are customs advantageous in the scheme of ways and means? The question is deeper than it seems at first sight; it touches the political habits of a people closely.

4. Indirect taxation – where necessary, and why.

In a country deeply sunk in debt, it is always an object to raise money in the easiest (though not simplest) possible manner – in a manner least apparent to the body of the people.

To make them contribute upon everything, without a direct appeal; to keep the tax-gatherer out of sight; to reserve direct infliction to the very last, seems a necessity for a nation whose resources are deeply and lastingly mortgaged. We must hit the poor man somehow, and it is politic to seem to strike the blow as far from his own threshold as possible. But, putting the pressure of necessity out of the question (merely for argument's sake), what so very formidable an objection is there to direct taxation?

5. Taxation and representation.

Such a system might be made the basis of the national representation. The rule being: every man who con-

tributes directly to the common purse, shall have a vote in the management of that purse. Indirect taxation can only secure the countenance of this principle where it is worked along with universal suffrage. Accordingly, we see in most countries that taxation and representation do not stand on one, or on any sure footing. Both are too eminently artificial, and unequal to be secure. Great changes are at hand, both in the one and in the other.

6. Taxation a means of education.

The manner of its taxation, may be a means of a certain kind of education, to almost any commonwealth. It is an object in some states, to prevent inquiry and thought in any of their citizens; it may become an object in some others, to elicit and promote them. It may be the interest of a state to prefer a measure of revenue in itself less facile, to another the burden of which escapes general observation, in order to command the attention of those among whom it is levied, to make them think how it is expended, that they may, in this way, learn to criticise their own national expenditure in its different items, and, by consequence, to reflect upon the purposes and actions of the state.

If in such a state the people have a powerful voice in their own affairs, if they have the power of decreeing and shaping their revenue as they will, it becomes especially necessary that those who have the responsibility of taxation should, if possible, be forced to know the nature

of the matter they have to act upon. If, "attend to your own private affairs, and leave all the rest to me," is the acknowledged principle of a despot, surely the free commonwealth should recognise the antagonistic principle to the fullest extent in its power, "That the affairs of the state are the affair of every citizen, and particularly of him who contributes to the public security."

7. Injustice and danger of the present system.

I am persuaded that in those happy countries which have it in their power to organise their own financial system; which have, in short, the choice of what they shall do; the injustice and danger of raising a revenue according to the present general practice, will, some day or other, give way to direct assessment on property. Probably America will lead the way, unless, indeed, the manufacturing interest there shall contrive to keep the present system up for purposes of its own. The injustice, to call it by its proper name, of the present system, wherever it is worked, is that it hits the smallest creatures in the commonwealth just as hard as the greatest. The poor man pays as much on his pound of tobacco as the millionaire. But, surely, there is a class in every country upon whom taxation ought not to descend at all. It is inhuman to make the lowest order of society, – families who live from hand to mouth, and even so with the greatest difficulty, – contribute anything. The very idea of taxation surely rests upon means to be taxed.

In their case what means can be said to exist? If all taxes represent a portion of the income of every individual upon whom they fall, transferred to the coffers of the state, is it not scandalous to tax an income of only eight or ten shillings a week – perhaps even less? It comes to that.

This injustice, or rather inhumanity, may plead a horrible impartiality for its continuance. It says, "here I find a pound of tobacco, and whoever buys it shall pay along with the market-price a certain charge upon it without respect of persons." But the impartiality is only on the surface. For the same pound of tea is not the same thing to the various purchasers. It is infinitely more precious to some than to others. The danger is that a highly artificial system which contains a deceitful, or, at least, insufficient principle to work upon, or rather, to speak the truth, is without any principle, may be made a cats-paw of in different countries, either for party purposes, or for the emolument of particular classes, or for the rich and well-to-do, generally against the poor, as might be largely illustrated from the last twenty-years-history of the revenues of the British Islands, or France, or America.

8. Contains no principle.

I have spoken of indirect taxation as a "system" of ways and means at present generally in use. "Arrangement" would have been a better term than "system." An arrangement may hang together by mere force of use, or be held together by power; while a

system seems to imply a principle. For in a system we expect a real coherence not to be explained otherwise; and while the presence of a principle alone can furnish the centre and basis of a system, and make it possible, the apprehension and appreciation of a principle among the people alone, can quicken a system and make it in any true sense workable.

9. Its defence.

The theory, to speak somewhat loosely of the present arrangement, may be expressed thus (as, indeed, has been hinted above): "Whereas direct and immediate taxation irritates the great interests, we must find some way of straining the money indirectly by taxing articles of common consumption. It suits us, for this purpose, to have something to lay hold of; something which we can readily stop in default of payment. Here, for instance, we catch hold of a chest of tea. Practical and to the point you see; and thus our indirect taxation goes directly to things; taking its title of indirect from its indirect descent upon the person on whose shoulders the impost ultimately falls. While direct taxation regards 'things' only as an evidence of certain means in the owner or his representatives upon whom it descends at once for contribution; so that some definite article, in or by itself, stands in our theory, precisely where certain indefinite means, which must, in each case, be approximated by a separate process of calculation, stand in yours. And as to a principle, it is quite hard enough to make both

ends meet, which we do practically manage by hook or by crook, without troubling our heads about principles: – we confess it is a heterogeneous mass founded and accumulated upon necessity, which is the mother of invention."

This is the ordinary defence, which we hear every day. In answer, it may be urged that a theory which substitutes cunning and sharp practice for science and justice can only succeed in proportion to the blindness of those whom it regards as the subjects of its practice.

The key-stone upon which the future system of finance will rest is, "Tax all property and nothing else." This will give an intelligible principle, and thereby suggest a correcting index by which it may register its operations before the eyes of the people.

10. The principle of future taxation.

Now, what is to be regarded as property in its financial aspect? What are we to understand by "means?" Property may be shortly defined as "any special source of gain;" and "special" is employed in order to exclude "common labour, by which a man eats his bread by the sweat of his brow;" while it includes every estate, profession, trade, business, and skill, or rather craft as distinguished from mere strength for labour. The mere operative is thus excluded from the list altogether; the skilled operative is included. Means, too, mark special resources. But this part of our inquiry cannot be worked out here. Enough that it is not so difficult that any

commonly-intelligent man need decline the investigation.

11. Objections and answers.

The vulgar objections to the proposition that property alone be made the basis or material of taxation in a country where such a proposal could be entertained without suggesting revolution, would probably be an apprehension of its costliness; of inquisitorial searches or requisitions; of the intricacy of its operation. It would, besides, be objected, that since it tends to narrow the basis of financial operation, its effects would be in that proportion smaller, instead of larger, as a means of national education.

12. Not costly.

It need not be costly, except at its first commencement. If, in the first instance, a vast and most minute survey were required, and this was corrected year by year to suit the continued ebb and flow of property, a corresponding outlay would take place, but when once fairly in operation, the cost of direct taxation would, it is admitted on all hands, be very small as compared with that of indirect. It is so in the account of the public income and expenditure of the United Kingdom, printed last year, as any one may see by collecting the various items of our revenue under these two heads, and then comparing the charges and receipts of each.

The expense of the first survey would be greater in a new country than in an old one; because, property is more scattered in the first

case. But such a survey would answer other purposes besides that of forming the groundwork of a system of revenue.

13. Inquiry a necessary accident of taxation.

Inquiry can never possibly be avoided in any scheme of taxation, whether direct or indirect. Is there no inquiry in customs or excise taxation? To ask a citizen to give an account of his whole income is, indeed, an inquisition. Property assessments contemplate nothing of the kind. They never inquire (unless they forsake their principle) what a certain individual is worth; but only what a certain property in a certain place is worth: they demand a return of this. A rate levied in this way is only accidentally akin to an ordinary income tax; it is not more inquisitorial than any other tax. The only tax which can be levied without inquiry must be a tax upon a commodity in the hands of the Government.

14. Not necessarily intricate.

Intricacy of operation is supposed to be a necessary consequence of intricacy of subject. Now, there may be many estates connected with one house, one business, one field; and those estates may be so dove-tailed into one another, and complicated, that no man, but some confidential lawyer, can tell who may be the owner, or owners of the house, or the business, or the field. Now it is urged, if this property, as a source of gain, is to pay a certain rate, to whom will you go? Will not the rate stand a considerable chance of being lost, just as

the Crown of England lost rights and services without end, through the sly monkish-legal invention of uses. The answer is, that the house, or the business is, as far as the rate is concerned, one. The occupier of the premises, the receiver, the locum tenens, must satisfy the rate; to make out the proportions, in which the owners, whoever they may be, pay, is their business, not that of the rate-collectors.

It is farther objected that direct

15. Basis of taxation, how far narrowed.

It is farther objected that direct taxation of this kind, would narrow the financial basis. – And most justly too. But in a vigorous colony, there are very few settlers indeed of five years standing, without some vested savings, beyond the bare personal effects, which would not come under the definition given above. New comers, engaged in the first struggle of settling, would, as a general rule, fall without it. The number of those altogether exempt, would, indeed, be by no means small; but their exemption could not possibly be a subject of regret to any one. Nearly all of them would be either indoor or outdoor servants; and even these people ordinarily begin to save soon after their arrival in the country. And their savings, whether invested in their own names or not, cannot, and ought not, to escape from a skilfully-devised survey. Invested somehow their savings will be, for money does not remain tied up in a stocking in new countries; there is too great a demand for it.

16. How far a means of education.

Still it is said, if numbers escape

public contributions altogether; if the numbers of men taxed under the proposed system be smaller than under the present, is it likely that public observation will be quickened, or public information increased? I answer yes: a direct system, worked openly before the eyes of the people, will necessarily be a matter of comment, both in its general bearings, and even in its minutest details. The very weight and insecurity of our method of revenue in England, in addition to its intricacy, prevents inquiry. It is too vast and too hopeless a care for any but a member of parliament, or an official. And this spirit of laissez-faire is a great evil. But in a young community, the income of which is reckoned, it may be, only by thousands, any one may master the contents of the year's balance-sheet, not only as a sum, but as a theme for thought. Particularly is he led to do so, if the system in operation challenges his respect as simple, clear, and uniform: most particularly, if the amount of his contribution is immediate, is large, and might perhaps be materially diminished. It is the interest of such a man to be perpetually on the look out. First, that the expenditure of the whole community, be as small as possible, and second, that his neighbours pay their full shares; to secure which, he is pretty sure to buy a copy of the survey of his own district. For extravagant expenditure, or diminished supply, will equally increase his own private burden, and increase it at once. Public aid, in

behalf of education, of religion, public buildings, paid magistrates, &c., will not find their claims less carefully inspected by a person in this position. Many questions of great difficulty will melt towards easy solution, under the application of direct contribution. When once the expenditure of a country is really in the hands of those who contribute it, it becomes secured from excess by the strong guarantee of direct interest. When they really govern it, they must needs make it a subject of very careful consideration, and continual discussion. Lastly, what seems plain, and simple, and just, invites discussion, and promotes inquiry; what is involved, capricious and unfair, forbids it. It cannot be denied, that the feeling of an ordinary Englishman is, "Where is the good of my trying to understand the resources of my country, the nature of its taxation, and the objects to which it is applied? The common people, of whom I am one, have practically no voice in such matters, and I cannot get hold of any principle to guide me; what a piece of patchwork it is!" Wo worth a nation, when its affairs are so perplexed, that the citizen relinquishes his common instinct of political inquiry! If>

17. Economical objections considered.

If, leaving the ordinary objections against direct taxation in the shape of a property rate, we inquire what our great authorities upon economy have thought upon it, we shall find, that while they admit it to be sound in principle, they have generally regarded it unfavourably, viewed as a

practical measure. They show that it has been too often associated with arbitrary taxation and forced loans. They pretend to regard it as an attack on capital, which, under its influence, will disappear. That it is disagreeable, and even odious in its operation; and, in its returns, far smaller than the other, they urge as conclusive against it. Under one or other of these four heads, every argument against the system before us may be brought. Each states a well-known fact or truth, and the fallacy in each consists in the application of it. It is true, that the direct property taxation of former times was very generally connected with tyrannical and arbitrary measures; but need it be so now? It is true that a tax on capital, as such, is very bad policy; but who wants to touch it? It is true that direct imposts are odious; but odium in certain quarters is a less evil than inhumanity. It is true that a revenue raised in this way, would be comparatively small, and for that reason, such a policy would never agree with England; but there are many countries for whose wants a very small revenue will suffice.

18. Application to New Zealand.

What has been hitherto said, grew out of an observation of the effect and tendencies of certain customs duties, in a new country like New Zealand. Obviously, some of these remarks do not apply to "customs" only. It is not only direct taxation, but it is some simple, uniform, and comprehensive plan of direct taxation, the advantages

of which are sought to be brought home to the people.

If the public income of the province of New Munster for the quarter ending the 31st of March of the years 1850 and 1851 respectively be examined, it will be observed that the question of customs is a question of nearly all its revenue as at present raised; the other items being very insignificant, such as post-office, licenses, fees, fines, land-fund, &c. If my previous suggestion is worth anything, not one of these would be retained as sources of revenue; for if they escape the first canon they certainly fall under the second. The post-office is merely a public machine for facilitating correspondence. If it bring more than pays its own expense, the charge on letters ought to be reduced. It may be pleaded for licenses that they act as a check upon the irregularities of such trades as the tapsters; but this is a mere pretence, for sanitary regulations may be enforced by the police without a special agreement. Fines, again, are not revenue. Fees are abominations, the only excuse for which is extreme want; they are nothing but a clumsy appendix or supplement, the very dregs at the bottom of the nauseous cup. As for the impropriety of raising a revenue from the sale of land, it has been discussed elsewhere.

I would by degrees, and with great caution, abolish this mass of heterogeneous taxation. It would be necessary to retain the old taxation provisionally; demolishing it yearly, perhaps, in

order not to introduce the new property assessments too harshly. Probably, they would meet with great opposition at first. All changes give rise to difficulties and create animosities at first and we may be sure that such a vast revolution as has been here roughly sketched out, would have to win its way against most powerful and unscrupulous antipathies. Having, therefore, collected the necessary materials and matured the plan, introduce very small rates at first. Once begun, it will sooner or later find its own course to completion. And begin your reduction by taking off that odious ad valorem duty which has been a root of bitterness long enough in New Zealand.

19. Revenue Table.

A table of the total income and expenditure of the several provinces of New Zealand will serve the double purpose of concluding my remarks on the first, and introducing the second.

| Year 1850-51. |  | Year 1851-52. |
| Receipts. | Expenditure. | Receipts. | Expenditure.
| £ | £ | £ | £
Auckland | 34,629 | 29,634 | 35,318 | 31,418
Wellington | 18,688 | 22,619 | 18,752 | 37,558
Taranaki | 1,780 | 2,599 | 2,599 | 3,224
Nelson | £4,499 | £4,208 | £6,242 | £6,029
Canterbury | £3,190 | £2,041 | £7,687 | £4,861
Otago | £2,567 | £2,668 | £2,641 | £3,607

20. Excessive expenditure at Wellington.

There is little doubt that the great excess of expenditure over income in the case of Wellington is mainly

attributable to its being the seat of Government. It may appear, at first sight, an advantage for any province to have its principal town selected as the seat of Government; but there are very great drawbacks associated with this enviable distinction. The expenses of such a province are sure to be disproportionally greater than those of any other. The advantages are, the presence of a number of inhabitants, some of them well off, who would not otherwise be resident there; – the presence of troops and their officers, of government establishments and depots; and, lastly, the advantage of a more frequent communication with England. Wellington has, or had, all these advantages, and she has others in no way connected with them, such as it is out of the power of any Government, either to confer, or to take away. I mean, the natural advantages of her position to become an emporium of trade, as the resources of the neighbouring country, and of New Zealand generally, unfold themselves. With such a prospect before her, it becomes a matter of doubt whether she is not more injured than benefited by being raised into the importance of a capital. Still, the financial position of Wellington is by no means so bad as it might appear at first sight, inasmuch as many thousands out of that expenditure which is set down in the table to her really falls as a common charge upon the whole country.

21. General condition.

Altogether the balance-sheet of New Zealand is very satisfactory, especially if we call to mind that a few years ago there was a most lamentable deficiency in the income of the country as compared with its expenditure. During the late war things came to the worst, and the country had to raise large loans in order to carry on its government, although, at the same time, the troops and vessels engaged were all paid from England. Ever since that time, New Zealand has been, year by year, rallying; and, although the expense of its government, as at present carried on, has increased with the population, yet it will appear, upon inspection, that the revenue has advanced in a greater ratio.

22. English expenditure.

The expenditure of England, on the account of New Zealand, has at times been very great. During the years of the Maori war it was one of our most expensive colonies. The sums, however, voted by Parliament in aid of the exchequer of New Zealand, have been of late yearly decreasing, and it is surely high time that they should come to an end altogether; for it is unquestionably an indispensable condition attaching itself to any charter of constitutional rights, that the colony which receives it should cease to be an encumbrance to the mother country. The one is the measure of the other. If a colony claims free institutions, and resents interference, it it high time for the

mother country to claim that she should undertake her own defence, and to resent the neglect of that great duty. It seems, altogether, a mistaken policy in the English to quarter large bodies of troops in a colony which professes to be able to manage its own affairs. There were, not long ago, and there probably are now, large detachments of soldiers stationed in New Zealand, to remove which, by degrees, would be sound policy in England. Indeed, there is not a single rational plea to be brought forward why they should remain where they are. Are they wanted to restrain the Maories? The colonists, who are prepared for free government, must make up their minds to do that for themselves. If they wish to enjoy the advantages of comparative independence, they may be very reasonably called upon to endure the disadvantages which are inseparable from it. Or, if it be urged that the presence of troops is required to retain the country in its position dependency of England, I reply – First, that this argues gross ignorance of the character and feelings of the colonists; and, secondly, that a colonial possession, which in time of peace requires the presence of armed men to keep up its allegiance, is not, as a general rule, worth retaining. The allegiance of such a colony does not, in fact, repay England for the expense incurred in maintaining a garrison.

Were every soldier removed from New Zealand, I am well convinced that the condition of the

country would be far sounder and healthier in itself, and its connection with England greatly strengthened instead of being impaired. The same may be said of almost all our other colonies. If the tie which holds the British empire together is no better than some people, in their ignorance, represent it to be, its duration must be short indeed, and always attended with a vast and most unremunerative outlay. We except, of course, in the enunciation of a general rule, the garrisons which are required in many parts of the world to secure our commerce, or to overawe neighbouring nations badly affected towards us. We except, under this head, such strongholds as Gibraltar or Malta. Again, we entirely except the case of foreign possessions which are not capable of receiving free institutions of their own of such a character as to render them alone responsible for the conduct of their own affairs. Putting aside these objections, our rule will be found to apply to all the colonies proper in the British empire, especially such as the Canadas and the adjacent provinces of British North America to the Cape – the various colonies of Australia, and, lastly, New Zealand. Is it not perfectly monstrous and absurd, that the British should be maintaining an armed police, in the shape of a body of soldiers, in Australia, when at the same time it is well known that there is, at this moment, a far greater surplus of revenue in that country than we are ever likely to see again in England?

This argument derives additional strength from the probability, or rather the certainty, that we have at length exhausted the term of that long peace which has endured, with one or two slight occasional interruptions, since the year 1815.

It is probable, that the saving effected by a plan of this kind, which would place the defence of the colonies in the hands of their own militia, would be to the exchequer of the British Islands, first and last, nearly two millions a year; a saving before which the petty schemes of finance and paltry retrenchments of the day dwindle to a mere nothing. The expenditure, too, is, in every sense of the word, prejudicial to the best and dearest interests of those very colonies, for the sake of which it is imposed upon Great Britain.

23. New Zealand revenue hitherto levied and spent unconstitutionally.

The Government of New Zealand, until the arrival of the new constitution, has been, as far as relates to its financial concerns, most unconstitutional. It may be said, indeed, that an exceptional state of things justifies a stretch of power, which would otherwise be intolerable; for that a country should, for years together, be governed by a kind of commission, lodged in the hands of a few men, one being the governor, another the secretary for the colonies, and so forth; – that a British colony, I say, should, for years, be taxed by an irregular commission of this kind, does seem very intolerable, and has, no doubt, exercised a very evil influence upon the minds of the colonists. An atmosphere of this

kind engenders unhealthy thoughts. And yet, I am bound to say, that as far as the exercise of those powers, irregular and unconstitutional as they were, was entrusted to Sir George Grey, they were on the whole employed for the good of the people committed to his care. Never, during my residence in New Zealand, did any well-authenticated or well-established case of wasteful application of revenue, or unwisely-exercised patronage, come under my notice. I am bound to say this, because, although there were, from time to time, rumours of waste in the treasury, and of ill-judged appointments in various provinces, onerous and disagreeable to the people, they never were, to my knowledge, in any one instance, substantiated. Were such a system, indeed, to be continued, it is almost too much to expect a succession of governors who would exercise their trust with such integrity, moderation, and prudence.

24. Prospect under the new constitution.

Under the change which has recently occurred, how may we expect that the financial condition of New Zealand will be affected? Will the taxation be lighter? Will the offices of Government, whether provincial or general, be fewer, and the salary less? Will the appointments be better made? Looking to what has already taken place, we may confidently affirm, as a rule, that the more the government of a country is placed in the hands of its own inhabitants, the less onerous will be its taxation; that,

whatever it is, it will be borne with a better grace; and what is most important to us, that whatever mistakes may occur, we in England cannot be charged as accessories, and saddled with the consequences of a governor's financial errors. However jealously watched government patronage in New Zealand may be, it is hardly likely that it will ever be better exercised than it has been of late years. The change is far more likely to be for the worse.

Mr. Dickens, in his book on America, is particularly indignant upon the public corruption which he saw, on every side, in the Government of the States. He accuses, if I mistake not, each State with being, in itself, a little kingdom in this respect; and it is by no means impossible, though it is, I trust, by no means likely, that the provinces of New Zealand may, some day or other, be similarly distinguished. It is possible that the government machinery committed to their care, may at once deteriorate, and increase in expense; that petty officers may be multiplied, to satisfy the insatiable maw of electioneering appetite; that salaries which are now grumbled at as being excessive, may be increased to suit a party connection; that appointments which have been denounced as unnecessary or extravagant, may be found indispensable to satisfy the enlightened conscience of the free electors; and lastly, that officials who have been oftentimes denounced as incapable or profligate, may suddenly assume the form of intelligent and incorruptible

patriots under the new system. All this may occur. But let us hope better things.

25. Provincial expenditure.

I have been asked, sometimes, to give the various items of provincial, as distinguished from general, expenditure. In reply, I must begin by stating that it is extremely difficult, in many cases, to draw the line accurately between the two, so as to be able decidedly to pronounce which is which. Before the new constitution, everything, of course, was spent according to Sir George Grey's good will and pleasure; and what the outlay for the establishment and other incidental purposes in each of the provinces amounted to, may be seen by turning back to the table of expenditure given above. The policy of Sir George, as far as I have been able to observe it, amounted to this, and perfectly simple it was: First, the necessary expenses of each settlement were provided for; this was indispensable, for the revenue could not otherwise have been collected or Government carried on; Secondly, the outlay necessarily involved in the government of the whole country, as apart from provincial requirements; Thirdly, whatever surplus existed after these two great demands had been satisfied, was spent in public works, roads, and buildings, in different settlements, according to his Excellency's discretion. But the system of revenue and expenditure was one; the credit and the responsibility undivided. Under the present constitution, if I understand it aright, there will be two kinds of revenue,

and two kinds of expenditure. Collisions, under these circumstances, are almost sure to be matters of common occurrence. All the great sources of the present revenue, are placed in the hands of the central Government – the New Zealand General Assembly: while all the most important burdens, it appears to me, must fall upon the provincial Governments. It is true, whatever revenue the General Assembly may think fit to raise, must, if they do not dispose of it, return in due proportions, to the different provinces. But what kind of guarantee is this? for I foresee that the Central Assembly will make a great expenditure if they do not find one.

26. Outline of simple provincial establishment.

I will now proceed to give what I believe to be, under the present system, the smallest establishment which is absolutely necessary in every province, entirely apart and distinct from the general management of the whole country.

There are certain wants which must be supplied, certain expenses defrayed, as indispensable in every settlement; and an enumeration of these will be the best answer to the question suggested above.

Since the regular attendance of ordinary magistrates cannot be depended upon, there must be a salaried officer, who is generally called the Resident Magistrate, whose business it is to conduct the ordinary provincial court. If popular, his irregular brethren may vote him into the chair. Sometimes he is so stout as to take that

precedence, will-ye nil-ye. Further, the bench requires a clerk to manage its papers, and keep its books in order, remember names, have the Bible ready, &c.

The office of coroner, though his dignity be somewhat ebbed since old English times, hath ever been preserved by the Anglo-Saxon race, and if judges do visit our settlement, he may also, if his ambition soars so high, attain the honour of a sheriff-dom; the lustre of which, however, hath also been somewhat dimmed in our colonies.

To proceed: it would be scarcely safe, even were the settlement a modern Arcadia, to set down its police at less than a body of eight or ten able-bodied men, clad in blue shirts, armed with cutlasses, and strongly shod. Nor would it be just to determine the salary of their chief at less than that of our friend the clerk. The gaol (sauf voire respect) and its expenses, must next be considered. If a thoroughly handsome and commodious edifice be taken on lease for the purpose, it will cost the community 60l. or 80l. a-year. The turnkey and his wife will take ordinary wages.

To inspect sheep, both on and after their arrival in the settlement, is a matter nice in the handling, grave in its consequences, and requiring truly a great weight of experience, for there is no more pestilent danger in a new and unpolluted land, than scabby, diseased sheep; insomuch that the collective wisdom of the New

Zealand legislature hath not forborne to make it a matter of special ordinance. The office of 'inspector' therefore, though not great in its outward aspect and glory, is perhaps of more real importance than any other. He has to conduct interviews both with flocks and herds, and also with their owners, shippers, herdsmen, and consignees, and is, in short, an officer of considerable consequence; which is increased, if he also inspect slaughter-houses, weights and measures, and grass-farms and fences, which things must be inspected by somebody.

The harbour-master is generally the quondam captain of some merchant vessel, who has taken a fancy to the colony, and to the office which he fills. He requires a house upon some lofty eminence, (whence he can catch the earliest glimpse of a vessel,) a set of glasses, of flags, and the occasional use of a good boat – 't would be infra dig. to permit him to employ less than four oars.

The hospital and its attendant expenses, a visiting surgeon, and one or more servants under him, are indispensable.

The collection of the revenue in New Zealand, costs about 10 per cent., and therefore, if we suppose our customs and other receipts to be 5000l. a-year, we may set down this department at about 500l.

Land sales and surveys, may be said to go together; both are expensive proceedings, and cannot be setimated in our settlement at less than 500l. a-year.

To all this, it has pleased our gracious Queen, and the Imperial Parliament, to add unto every province, the expensive ornament of a superintendent, and a council of not less than nine members. Felices ter et amplius, quos irrupta tenet copula! – if they do not burden their little constituency into general bankruptcy.

The superintendent is to receive, in each instance, 500l. a year. The expense of the other nine, it would be almost presumptuous to calculate; but since the local assembly is to have no power whatever over custom-house, harbour-dues, post-office (from which they are specially excluded), or the sale of waste land (which is given to the general assembly), are we justified in carrying the accounts of outlay connected with those establishments, to the provincial exchequer? Now, if under the head of expenditure, is meant expenditure in the province, they must be included; if the outlay of the province by itself, and for itself, be regarded, then certainly not; because these branches of revenue and expenditure are not under provincial control. We may mix the cup to the taste, either with or without the sweets of liberty. Liberty, in this case, means additional officers, a new kind of taxation, and a withdrawal of the principal sources of revenue to a kind of central committee, who are almost sure to spend all, and more than all, they can wring out of the provinces.

Since these appendages of self-government have surely nothing to do with the necessary ex-

penses of a settlement, I shall not insert any figures for superintendent, council, or legal adviser (for they must have one, if they begin to draw up ordinances and enactments). Our table will stand thus: –

Resident Magistrate (and perhaps Chairman of the Bench) | £300 a-year.
Clerk to Bench | £100 "
Coroner (not including sundry fees) | £75 "
Eight Policemen, at £50 each, and their Chief at £100 | £500 "
Gaol-rent or Interest, and Turnkey, &c. | £200 "
Inspector of Sheep, &c., (can't be done well for much less than) | £100 "
Harbour-master and boat | £250 "
Hospital, Building and Attendance £200, Surgeon £200 | £400 "
Treasury and Custom-house establishment | £500 "
Land and Survey-Office | £500 "
Total | £2925 "

Roads and public works would demand whatever surplus might exist in the provincial revenue.

27. Items of general expenditure.

The general expenditure will naturally commence with the salaries of the General Assembly and suite, who, when the wants of nature are satisfied, will be the better able to pay up the monies mentioned in detail as reserved to Her Majesty's Government in the schedule of the act of the constitution.

The list is as follows: –

Governor | £2500
Chief-Justice | 1000
Puisne Judge | 800
General Government Establishment | 4700
Native purposes | 7000
Total reserved revenue | £16,000

Since the customs' duties and the disposal of lands are placed in its hands, the Assembly will be surely bound to provide for the expenses of those establishments in the provinces.

They were only conditionally inserted in the list of provincial charges given above.

Also, a Supreme Court or Central Court of Appeal, a Registry and Record Office, a Treasury and Audit Office, must be maintained.

Lastly, the colony will be called upon to contribute towards its own defence, either by a direct vote in aid of imperial expenditure paid to the Government, or by organising a defensive force of its own.

These will be the principal items in the general budget of New Zealand.

28. Revenue from the lease of pasture-land.

I cannot conclude this chapter without alluding to a peculiar kind of revenue, which, although not very large at present, and probably far smaller than it ought to be, from inadequate collection, will, nevertheless, at no distant period, become of great consequence to New Zealand. I mean the charge on the depasturing of sheep

on the wild lands. This gives an income which ought to be very easily levied.

I see in Mr. Fitzgerald's speech to his council, that "within the Canterbury block alone above a million acres are taken up for pasturage, producing a rent of 2400l. a year, which will in four years have increased to above 7000l. a year." In the "Canterbury block," as he calls it, the present pasturage regulations were framed, or rather revised, by Mr. Godley, and the result will soon become very evident. The revenue which will arise in a short time from that pasturage system will suffice to carry the Canterbury Association with flying colours through liabilities far larger than they have incurred.

Now, if each sheep in New Zealand pays the Government 1d. yearly for pasture, the income arising from this source, in ten years' time, will be at least 20,000l. a year. This revenue will, according to the Act of Parliament lately quoted, belong to the General Assembly, for in Art. 72 it obtains power subject to certain provisions to let the waste lands of the Crown, subject to certain conditions.

In my observations on the sale of wild lands, I advocated cheap land-sales, in which the whole community are deeply concerned, as being calculated to advance the interests of New Zealand. I now take the occasion of stating my conviction that leases of pasture-land, being generally confined to a small class, ought to be constructed

with the object of taking as much revenue as possible for State-purposes. As they fall in from time to time, the Government might lease them out by public auction; and thus, in all probability, ultimately secure a revenue sufficient to defray all the expenses of the central Government, so as to render the imposition of customs, and, indeed, all interference with provincial resources utterly superfluous.

CHAPTER XVI. THE MAORIES.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE MAORIES.

"Nunc ager Umbreni sub nomine, nuper Ofelli Dictus erat, nulli proprius sed cedit in usum Nunc mihi, nunc alii."

l. How the Maories regarded their lands; their cultivations.

SINCE the prosperity of every country depends, first or last, upon its land; since the cardinal point in the character of a nation is, the way in which they regard a deal with their soil; the fact that the native New Zealanders had no notion of an individual possession of land, such as immemorial custom sanctions among us and civilised nations generally, is a very important clue to their character. The lands were the lands of the tribe, not of certain persons belonging to it. Individual right did not extend beyond a right of occupation at the utmost. Every family has at present a garden or little field attached to their habitation, and also the right of turning any cattle they may have to graze upon the common land of the tribe or village. When the garden is worn out by a succession of corn or potato-crops, the family will

inclose and cultivate another spot of ground, leaving, at the same time, their old habitation for another upon the new field. I have seen several of these old fields which have been thus abandoned: there is generally the ruin of an old hut or shed upon them. They appear to have been broken up from the waste after the introduction of corn and potatoes among the Maories. Before that, I do not know of any evidence to show that the Maories had any cultivation whatever. At any rate, varieties of the melon and the yam were all their produce: they subsisted principally upon fern-root and fish. Hence they practically cared but little for the soil, never holding it with the tenacious grasp of men who have to live by cultivating it. They always were, and still are, very fond of moving about; there are some who possess several huts, in which they dwell according to the season and the pursuits it brings. On one occasion I found all the inhabitants of an entire village absent. They were all gone out on a visit, and did not return for several days.

They generally manage to get two crops of potatoes a-year out of the same ground, without using either the spade or the plough. Their wheat-patches they suffer to grow from year to year from the droppings of the crop, without any fresh tillage, by which both the land and what it produces becomes poorer and poorer. They gather the corn, and then beat it out with sticks on the hard ground; and if they cannot sell it

after this dirty process, they will try to get it ground for them in the hand-mill of some white settler. I have never seen a good loaf of bread in a Maori hut. They make sour and musty cakes of unleavened bread, which they bake in rather than on the fire; but this is since the coming-in of the white men.

Considering their absolute neglect of the land before that time, no one can be surprised to hear that they did not value it as we value it; and that, until quite recently, when they sold land to the stranger, they thought they only sold the right to do that which they had themselves been used to do with it, which was to use it in common with one another to dwell and build upon. I cannot believe that they ever thought of selling land after our fashion, out and out to a purchaser, until they got hold of the idea from us. The early European settlers, on the other hand, of course, regarded a sale of land as we ourselves should do. When for a keg of brandy or tobacco, or a few old clothes, trinkets, or muskets, they had obtained a claim to a vast tract of country, they really believed themselves entitled to turn the Maories out, and to take exclusive possession of the purchase. All the native troubles in New Zealand have arisen from this one source – disputes about land.

2. Treaty with the British: Land claims.

When the British took formal possession of New Zealand it was expressly covenanted that the chiefs and tribes of New Zealand, and their respective

families, and the individuals thereof, should have the full, exclusive, and undisturbed possession of their lands and estates, forests and fisheries, and other properties which they might collectively and individually possess, as long as it was their wish and desire to retain them. And at the same time the chiefs yielded to Her Majesty the exclusive right of pre-emption over such lands as these proprietors might be disposed to alienate at such prices as should be agreed upon between Her Majesty's Commissioners and the respective proprietors. This is the second article of the treaty of Waitangi, almost word for word.

No sooner was British sovereignty proclaimed in New Zealand than hundreds of land claims sprung up like mushrooms. Every rascally adventurer in the islands put in some claim or other, and called upon the Government to acknowledge his pretensions and see him righted. The Maories resisted; and most of the claims were, upon inspection, disallowed. As yet the Government only asserted the right of pre-emption: it was a long time before they fully carried out that right into practice. They allowed the New Zealand Company to interfere in a wholesale manner with the lands in the neighbourhood of Cook's Straits. The attempts of that Company to enforce their imaginary purchases led to bloodshed. The real meaning and object of the original government policy had now ceased to be intelligible to men of headstrong passions irritated by private quarrels and

perplexed by vacillation at head-quarters, until at length the ill feeling among the Maories broke out into open war, in which, after a gallant struggle, they were forced to submit to the strong hand of the invading nation.

3. The Crown's right of pre-emption enforced.

All this made it at length plain to the Government that it was necessary to enact and enforce some rule which should be absolutely binding on all parties concerned, – to protect the Maori from fraud, the settler from violence, and to establish a safe mode of transferring land from the one to the other. What they did was this. They carried the right of pre-emption to its utmost extent, and declared that all sales of land by the Maories, except to the Crown, should be null and void; that all such lands must be considered to be vested in the Crown; and that the Crown alone could give a legal title to them; consequently that no private agreement between Maories and colonists could constitute any right whatever to any portion of them. The advantages of this policy are too obvious to need comment. It throws the business of negotiating with the Maories for their land entirely into the hands of Government. It is a perfectly simple and straightforward measure, admirably calculated to meet the difficulty, and has worked perfectly well hitherto; if we except a few eases which it was impossible to have provided against. At present, therefore, the Government alone buys land from the Maories, generally in very

large quantities. If we look closely at this arrangement, we shall see in it a compromise between two extreme views.

According to one view, the native New Zealanders were possessors of all the lands in that country. They might either keep them or sell them, or deal with them, in whatever way they thought good; inasmuch as the ownership of the soil was quite distinct from the declaration or exercise of sovereign power. They were, besides, expressly confirmed in their right (if any doubt ever existed) by the above-mentioned article of the treaty of Waitangi; a treaty which could never honourably be set aside after we had obtained the advantages guaranteed by it.

According to the other view, it has always been the English plan in colonising a new country to take possession of the soil as a matter of course. What the Indians, for instance, received from William Penn was a present, and not a payment. To concede to savages rights of property, in the English sense, over millions of acres which they do not really occupy, is to introduce an element of discord into the country which we are about to colonise; to raise indefinite suspicions in the minds of the natives; and to subject ourselves to endless disputes with them; for they will not easily be brought to understand what we mean. And what, after all, say the second party, was the treaty of Waitangi? If our right to New Zealand is based on nothing better than that, could the

signatures of a few northern chieftains transfer to us the sovereignty over a nation?

The first party held that the entire lands of New Zealand should belong to the natives. The second party only allowed them those which they actually held for some useful purpose – a mere right of occupation. The first gave the Crown only a bare right of pre-emption: the second would have vested nearly all New Zealand in the Crown. This was, we believe, in accord with the theory and usage of all Christian nations in their dealings with barbarians. At least, we are sure that the British acted in this way in North America and Australia. "All our institutions," says a great American lawyer, "recognise the absolute title of the Crown, subject only to the native right of occupancy, and recognise the title of the Crown to extinguish that right. This is incompatible with an absolute and complete title in the natives."

The compromise deals with the practical fact of the difficulty only. It concedes, to the first view, a beneficial construction of the treaty, making it the base of all dealings in land, while it insists upon that paramount superiority in the Crown which constitutes the most important feature of the second view.

4. Difficult cases remaining.

Cases of difficulty still remain, as, for instance, when the Maories and the Government cannot agree upon the amount of purchase-money for a certain district which it is important to buy in. The

Wairarapa was lately, and is, perhaps, still, leased out by the natives to certain sheep-farmers. Thus the government arrangement is defeated, though the direct blow of the law is evaded. The tribes of the Wairarapa were said to derive a large and increasing revenue from these rents and the question of "How much for the Wairarapa Valley?" becomes every day more difficult to settle. Indeed, the original offers have been doubled, without success. The last accounts, however, mention the purchase of a strip of land in the valley.

It sometimes happens that the same tract of country is claimed by two tribes. Some of these disputes are of old standing, and of a very intricate nature. Let us suppose that twenty years ago a tribe from the north conquered another in the south, and, having reduced it to slavery, returned to its old haunts, leaving behind a band of warriors to occupy the conquered territory. Suppose that after this the weaker tribe renews the contest; makes head; and regains part of its old lands; that fresh warriors are called in and new tribes take part in the struggle. In process of time, let an English commissioner make his appearance. The resisting tribe offers to sell a valley, and perhaps gets an advance of money upon the offer. But the invaders also claim it, and their auxiliaries, too, are determined to make good their footing, and will hear of no sale in which they have not a lion's share of the price. Lastly, the main

body of the conquering tribe sends a war-party down to declare that neither the old inhabitants, nor their own garrison, nor the band of auxiliaries (fragments of broken tribes perhaps) have the smallest right to the valley in question, which is theirs, and theirs only by right of conquest; and to make this good, they camp on the land in debate. Something of this kind actually occurred at Taranaki; and to make matters worse, land orders had been issued for parts of the debated territory. How, under such circumstances, would the poor settlers who endeavour to make an entry be treated?

5. Records of the Maories.

It would be presumptuous in the author of this volume, to enter into speculations concerning the history and mythology of the Maories. Both would require a perfect knowledge of their language, literature (if I may call unwritten compositions by that name), and habits of life. Unquestionably, there are men in New Zealand equal to the task. The Bishop, Sir George Grey, Archdeacon Hadfield, and others, are intimately acquainted with this singular race. Sir George Grey has an extensive collection of their songs and legends, now in the course of publication. A work of this kind, probably taking some such form as Carlyle's "Dante," will place the Maories, as they are, before the English people. It is making them tell their own story, in their own words. It will be an authentic monument of savage life, unequalled in interest. These poems and stories, taken down at the time

they were written, from the mouths of the very people themselves, will be at once a key to their national character and history, and also a means of preserving a sample of the pure Maori, which, in the course of a few years, will probably be lost; to say nothing of their own intrinsic value and beauty, which good judges pronounce to be very great. They were very opportunely rescued from the fate which must generally attend the records of a dying race.

6. Their decay.

For the Maories, as such, are disappearing. Those whom their own depopulating wars have left surviving, are dying very rapidly away. The number of the children is small; they do not replace their fathers. It is strange, on entering one of their villages, to see how all the finest specimens of humanity it contains are greatly past the flower of life. The young people look mean, squalid, and sickly; the children miserable in the extreme. Whether the decree is irrevocable; whether the finger of time can go back upon the dial, and the past can be so far recovered as to give this race yet a chance of prolonged existence, is a question which the experience of the next few years will enable us to answer. Does the experiment which has been tried, with such patience and devotion, at Otaki, succeed or not? Apparently it does. The Maori community there, is increasing and flourishing. But can that continue? Nothing can keep out white settlers, and wherever they come, the natives, as a fact, die away. So, in our woods

and fields, even in England, we may observe that a new kind of tree or plant will elbow out another, which flourished before it was introduced. The antagonisms and antipathies of race and society, are but an extension of the phenomena of natural history.

There are, however, to be found, persons hopeful enough to believe that the decay of the native race of New Zealand has reached its height, and to see signs of a turn in the tide. It was impossible, they say, to expect that the miseries of two generations and their consequences, should cease at the first establishment of good government. As it is, we have done an immense deal; we have stopped the progress of the destroying angel; we have put an end to the civil war; we have done our very best to cut off their supply of gunpowder and of spirits; we have established, and we maintain, laws by which the intercourse between the two races is regulated, and justice done on both sides; we have upheld the Maori in the possession of his land; we have made him a Christian; we offer him the knowledge and the comforts of civilised life. The evils may linger awhile, but they will eventually depart. Now that the causes have been removed, let us, then, in patience, and with hope, await the fruits of our labours.

7. Questions concerning the savage character.

However this may be, there is in the face, the gestures, the dealings of these partly-reclaimed wild men, a meaning, and a lesson of such

awful import to us all (whether colonists or not), that at the risk of appearing tedious, I shall devote a few pages to it. The riddle of the savage is a melancholy part of the human problem. It is a dark streak in the river of history, appealing directly for solution to the earliest chapters of the book of mankind. Could our children ever become savages? Were their ancestors ever civilised? Was the first man civilised, or savage, or either? Which is nearest to the natural man, we or they? Is civilisation first culture, or reclamation? – a call or a removal? What are the ultimate tendencies of the two conditions? Are all mankind really and indeed to be supposed the offspring of one original pair? – and does a reply in the negative destroy the brotherhood of men? Such questions recall to my mind some wonderful passages to which my own experience, makes me return with a far greater interest, than I felt on first reading.

8. Opinions of Niebuhr on the descent of mankind.

I quote from Niebuhr's "History of Rome," where he speaks of –

"The fallacy which is still so general, that, tribes of a common stock must have sprung genealogically, by ever-widening ramifications, from a single root. This fallacy escaped detection among the ancients, owing, perhaps, to their admitting a number of originally different races of men. They who deny such a plurality, and mount up to a single pair of ancestors, must devise a miracle to account for the diversities of the bodily structure of the different races, while they cling to that of a confusion of tongues, as a solution for the differences in such languages as are essen-

tially and radically distinct. The assumption of such miracles is not an offence against reason: for since the ruins of a former world manifestly show, that, before the present order of things, another must have existed, it is certainly conceivable that the present order should at one time have undergone a material change, and yet not have been totally interrupted. The offender against reason is he who distorts the laws of experience, that, without regard to truth, he may maintain the conceivableness of what directly contradicts them. In matters of history, reason demands our acknowledging that the origin of things lies in every case beyond the sphere of our notions, which comprehend only their development and progress; and, accordingly, the historical inquirer will confine himself to going back from one step of time to another."

He believed, therefore, in a miraculous confusion or fall.

Again: –

9. Variety of races.

"The further we go back into antiquity, the richer, the more distinct, and the more broadly marked, do we find the dialects of great languages; they subsist, one beside the other, with the same originality, and in the same manner, as if they were totally distinct tongues. The existence of a universal German or Greek language, from the beginning, is a mere idea; it is when the dialects, after being impoverished and enfeebled, become extinct, and when reading grows to be general, that a common language arises. Nor do languages ever intermix, except when whole tribes, or large masses of people, such as slaves, that have been imported in swarms, are forced to adopt a strange one. In like manner do we find new forms arising in the corporeal world; and these may deviate further from the type whence they sprang, than other kinds which are essentially different."

Creation is here asserted to be still as distinctly

at work as amalgamation. A variety of original races is hinted at.

Next: –

10. Original civilisation.

"The aborigines are portrayed by Sallust civilisation and Virgil as hordes of savages, without manners, without laws, without agriculture, living on the product of the chase, and on wild fruits. This, probably, is nothing else than an ancient speculation about the progress of mankind from animal rudeness to civilisation, after the manner of those philosophical histories, as they were called, which were repeated even to surfeiting during the latter half of the last century, more so, however, in other countries than in Germany, and in which even the state of brute speechlessness was not forgotten. The pages of these observing philosophers swarm with quotations from books of travels. This, however, they have overlooked, – that not a single instance can be shown of a really savage people passing spontaneously into civilisation, and that where it has been forced upon them from without, the physical decay of the race has ensued."

The barbarian, therefore, is altogether sui generis where he really exists.

"For every race of men has received its destination assigned to it by God, with the character which is suited to it and stamps it. The social state, too, as Aristotle wisely says, is prior to the individual who is called to it; the whole prior to the part: those speculators do not perceive that the savage has either degenerated, or was but half human from the first."

Of the peopling of the earth, after speaking of the popular legends, he says: –

11. Peopling of the earth.

"Now, far as we are from sharing such a belief, I still cannot forbear regarding the

view taken by the people, as sounder in one point than that of the philosophers: the latter assume a period which has no beginning, and wherein act follows act: while the people acknowledges the creation of mankind as the beginning of new laws of life; to set which revolution before our eyes seems to have been the purpose why the organic remains of earlier periods have been buried in the earth. There is no proof that such a creation has occurred only once: it may have taken place for the different races of mankind, after the earth had been more or less extensively desolated, at widely-distant epochs in the course of those many thousand years which have been requisite to form the alluvial land of Egypt, of Babylonia, of Lombardy, and of Louisiana; for God does not grow old, nor weary of creating, of preserving, of remoulding and training."

These passages surely show the religious simplicity, as well as the philosophy, of Niebuhr. His religion was of too noble and homely a kind to suffer from any philosophical conclusion, and his philosophy too clear-sighted to confound the speculative with the purely spiritual part of our nature. His life in his own family showed what he was. The same earnest depth of thought also conducted him to congenial studies, – the early history of the greatest, bravest, and devoutest nation of antiquity. He asserts the difference of race most distinctly, but never loses sight of a common brotherhood of men. He rejects the suggestion that the ancestors of civilised men, were ever downright savages; evidently considering the savage either as a freak of nature, or a monument of a divine visitation.

12. The savage a degraded man.

Surely, to suppose that this miserable creature, like a beast with his "lower pleasures," and "lower pains," his slavish fears, his hideous cruelty, his bloody sacrifices, his human feasts, is a fair sample of man, as he was, or is, or will be, is to cast a slight upon the scheme of God, whereby his beneficence becomes tarnished, and to put a very mistaken construction upon our own nature, and position in the world.

"Best are all things as the will
Of God ordained them: his creating hand
Nothing imperfect or deficient left
Of all that He created, much less man,
Or aught that might his happy state secure,
Secure from outward force; within himself
The danger lies, yet lies within his power;
Against his will he can receive no harm.
But God left free the will; for what obeys
Reason is free and Reason He made right."

From what I have observed myself, in the half-reclaimed savage; from what I have understood from the lively description of others, no doubt exists within my mind, that fear is the characteristic of man run wild (verwildert). It is a fear, which resembles an instinct or a hereditary disease, and is, perhaps, the accumulated legacy of countless generations, of violent, bloodthirsty men, who suffered from others like themselves.

Savages and little children are often compared as being very like.

The last book in which I have remarked this,

is F. Newman's "Soul." He says, page 4, second edition: – "In the child, and in the savage, as the conscience is but half developed, so is it manifestly with the soul." I deny that any such likeness exists; a little child is not fearful, it requires quite a course of tumbling about and suffering to make him so. When we say, "the burnt child dreads the fire," we recognise, in the words, his second stage; whereas, the savage man begins always with dreading anything and everything new. Caution has, with him, degenerated into fear; just as prudence (a strictly human virtue) has sunk into a bestial cunning, which is his second characteristic. Filthiness, both of soul and body, is a third sign of barbarism; it has no sense of cleanliness. An author who can talk of "degraded types," ought not to assume that the barbarian is the natural, the simple, childlike (and therefore surely Godlike) man, and to start from him, as that out of which the civilised man has been developed. To say that our primitive ancestors were highly civilised, would be doubtless a rash assertion, though indeed, F. Schlegel, in the "Philosophy of History," places the highest patriarchal race at the height of true civilisation; but to affirm that they were civilised, rash as it may be judged, is a far more likely belief, than to start by supposing them wild. There never was, I fairly believe, nor is, nor will be, such a monster as a real wild man; it is a fable. The sight of more or less perverted and degraded races has given rise to a notion as

imaginary as the unicorn or the centaur; and injurious, because it tends to lower what God has designed to glorify.

13. Glory of civilsation.

Surely, to behold a civilised, educated people is to behold a generation among whom the grace of God has been busy, and not altogether in vain nor unresponded to, to draw them back to a pristine happy state, or to elevate them even higher; while to behold a barbarous herd is to see the fall still at work, producing fresh evil, and, like sin, breeding fresh serpents day by day. The grace of God has been here frustrated, and the seed of the old Dragon acknowledge their father, by a constant and thoroughly consistent degeneracy.

What, then, were our German and Scandinavian ancestors? were they civilised? was that horde which, gambolling in the river Rhine, was nosed a long way off by the saintly Sturme, causing him almost to swoon away by the stench of their unregenerate souls (so he believed), – were they civilised? Assuredly they were fallen far, but not absolute savages, for they never lost the commonest arts of life; and, as Germans, they had that high respect for woman, which is quite alien to barbarians of the grosser sort. They came, too, while yet they retained some consciousness of the human and divine law, under the regenerating and reviving influence of the word of God; to them, therefore, by no means applies the question – Are barbarous races of the lowest type, capable of civilisation? a change of which,

Niebuhr says, there is no instance in the whole course of history. But if these generally die out and disappear in their old shape, they may continue to live in a new form; they may reappear in some half-cast race: thus both the civilised man, and the barbarian, may be represented at once, and each may be improved by the addition of culture and virtue, on the one hand, and simple vigor on the other. Rome, they say, was raised upon a mixture of races.

There is something surely very significant in the fact, that even utter barbarism never discloses an entire absence of religion, but always a perversion or distortion of it. Is it too much to say, that because these races had forgotten the true beginning and end of life, and had blinded their eyes to the light that lighteth every one that cometh into the world, that therefore the arts and means of that life, whose art and meaning they had abandoned, have fallen away from and abandoned them? Has not the glorious river stagnated into an impure swamp? Is not the diamond fountain choked by the sand of the wilderness?

The solitary devotee may sneer at the civilisation of Europe, but let us, while we tremble at the counterfeit which is always found alongside of it, eating into its heart, rather give God the glory, and accept it with all humility for what it is, – an evidence that the spiritual leaven is still working among us.

Every civilisation, in every age, has been based upon some appreciation of religion, true, and right,

and heartfelt. Every great system has borne its witness to some portion of divine truth discovered among men. This is the idea of Mr. Maurice's great book on the religions of the world. It may have been a very small portion, but it has always been distinctly traceable, by those who search diligently for it, in the remains of time. The great gift of Christianity gives each their place, and speaking (silently) with many tongues, prepares the world for its true civilisation: – a divine message, and a divinely-imparted strength, by which we apprehend and embrace the message: – a sacrament of progress to the civilised man, of new life to the savage.

14. Christianity among the Maories.

I confess I was rather doubtful, for a long time, about the vital power of Christianity among the Maories. Seeing a good deal of their dealings with the white men and one another, I observed that they were generally sly and over-reaching; and little things that occurred, led me to suspect that they regarded the ministrations of the clergyman, who visited them from time to time, as charms against diseases, fears, &c.

They set a high value on the forms of religion; continually did we hear a little cracked bell sound across the harbour to summon the Maories to prayer, and they had parts of the service of the Church of England read aloud to them by a native teacher. But then they were lazy and dirty, and their houses were tumbling down for want of repair. One of these neighbours of mine (we used to call him Big John), fell very ill

of some wasting disorder; he went, therefore, and was baptised, believing, I imagine, in its efficacy on the body, as well as the soul; immediately recovered; married a wife; and was, when I left, again become as strong as a horse: he was a prosperous man, owned cattle and horses, a capital hand at a bargain, and exercised influence over the others. I give this without presuming to draw any inference from it.

About the same time a number of youths (at least a dozen) came to a clergyman who was then staying at my house. They desired baptism, and the clergyman, who was a stranger, went to their village and did baptize them all, or nearly all. It soon after appeared that of these some had been baptised before, some were insufficiently prepared, and others were not of good character. Some of the Maories in this village were "Bicopos" (their name for Roman Catholic), and one of the priests from Akaroa used to visit them.

15. Anecdote of a convert.

There is a story current, which appears to me not improbable, though I will not vouch for its truth, of a Maori who indulged in all the forms of Christianity, as they came in his way. He began with the Roman Catholics, and would probably have remained among them, had he not visited one of the English settlements, where he found out that there was another form of Christianity, which presented greater attractions and advantages than he had found at the first stage of his

religious peregrination, inasmuch as a parsonage and a church were being built in a far superior style to anything he had ever yet seen. He managed to obtain some little employment about the works which were going on, through the kindness of the missionary clergyman, who allowed him to come to the kitchen of his temporary residence, where he would sit for hours with the servant-maid; and encouraged him to attend the services of the Church of England, and the lectures and expositions of Scripture, which were almost daily given to the Christians and heathens in the neighbourhood. He was warned, through a native interpreter (for the clergyman was only beginning to learn Maori), that the Romish religion was full of errors, and little less displeasing to Heaven than the abominations of his own old faith, – that it was quite against Scripture, altogether unsafe, and a wicked delusion. Induced by these representations, he now attached himself to the Church of England, adopted an attire something resembling the European dress, and made proposals of marriage to the parson's housekeeper, who, without any ceremony, rejected his dusky advances, warning him at the same time away from the premises of her master. Cooled and mortified by this treatment, he fell into bad company; bought a horse, which he was unable to pay for; got into debt; and was obliged before long to change his quarters rather suddenly. Arrived at another settlement, he fell among a body of pious Wesleyan missionaries, who were carrying on

preaching and business together. Here he not only saw a chapel and a school, but also a corn-mill, and a shop where flour, and blankets, and tobacco were sold. As this surpassed even the Church of England, he submitted himself to be converted into a Methodist. His new friends not only taught him to sing psalms, make long faces, and talk about his experiences, but put him in the way of profitable employment. He would now have been as happy as a king if the religious exercises, preachings and teachings, and strivings which he underwent, had constituted his only duty, but he soon found that it was a first condition with his new connection that every man should make himself useful and work hard. That disgusting sine qua non sent him chirping back to his old allies the Bicopos, who had not so much to give, but, at the same time, exacted nothing from him unsuited to his nature. I hear that Obadiah (that was his name among the Methodists) is now attached to the suite of that excellent man the Roman Catholic Bishop of New Zealand; and, since he thoroughly understands his countrymen, he is probably worth his salt. He has sounded all the depths and shoals of doctrine, and has made his choice upon philosophical principles.

This story somewhat resembles the case of the celebrated Begum who so carefully divided her attentions between Christianity and Mahometanism.

16. Simple superiority as a cause of religious change.

It is said that the divisions among Christians are a very great obstacle to

the advance of the faith. The attacking army is divided against itself. But this is not enough to account for the want of success in many of our missions, which, perhaps, may appear the more extraordinary, when we consider that the races which offer the greatest resistance to Christianity are not savage tribes, but nations possessing ancient and apparently complete systems of civilisation.

The South Sea Islander and the African offer a difficulty to the Gospel, feeble, indeed, compared with the resolute and reasoning opposition of the Hindoos, or Chinese, or Persians. We may see in Henry Martyn's Journal how hard he was occasionally put to it. Such men as those among whom he went, offer argument for argument, and some of their objections can never be satisfactorily answered, far less to their own satisfaction. Strange! that civilisation, which ought to be her handmaiden, should often in certain forms be the most determined opponent of our religion; and that those phases of civilisation which were the growth of the most subtle speculation, the deepest craving after knowledge, should so earnestly strive with her, who alone can satisfy the divine wants to which they point. Do they fear lest she should utterly cast them out, like so many Hagars, into the wilderness? And may not our conduct, compared with our preaching, justify such an apprehension? The New Zealander says to the English: "You are naturally stronger, and more cunning,

and altogether greater than we are, and so your gods must be greater than our gods, who have disappeared before their approach as the stars before the rising sun. You say you have only one God, strange enough, but be it so! We wish (they say to us) to become a part of you, and have your God to be our God, instead of those others which we no longer fear, which are becoming forgotten out of the land, retiring away from us to the tops of the inland hills." The Hindoo, on the other hand, says to the English (mark the contrast): "You are stronger and naturally greater than we are; you have overthrown us, as did the Greek and the Mussulman before you; you govern us as did the Mussulman; but as to religious belief we have our own thoughts about that matter, thoughts which have guided our practice for thousands of years, and which will bear, upon inspection, a very favourable comparison with your thoughts." Perhaps, he may add, with Job (chapter xxx.), taking a text up against us, "'But now the younger in time scorn me, whose fathers I would not have set with the dogs of my flock;' and to conclude, why interfere with us in these things? Let us be as we were in the days of old. Wilt thou not possess what Chemosh thy God giveth thee, and leave to our gods what they are able and deserve to keep?" What a difference between the two speeches! The change to the Hindoo is always a question; and

that being the case, he prefers to stay as he is until he can have some decided assurance in favour of novelty. He admits not our intellectual sway. The change in the Maori was implied in the overwhelming superiority of the European. We cannot, I am sure, conceive such a change in any part of Christendom as the Maori has been undergoing since white settlers have come into his country, and all, in a great measure, the work of the last twenty years. Suppose a populous race of genii to settle in London: suppose a whole nation of Aladdins, lamp in hand, and ring on finger; suppose a number of new arts introduced among us; – but no; we cannot suppose it. Like a railway collision – it must be felt.

17. Intimate acquaintance and sympathy.

What a difference between the addresses of St. Paul and our preaching now-a-days! St. Paul always starts from some ground in common with and well known to his hearers.

"Whom ye yourselves worship, him disclose I unto you." St. Paul (from the circumstances, and manner of his education) knew the thoughts and the culture of his hearers, and could quite put himself in their place. Is it possible for the most cultivated of our missioners to do this with the Hindoos? Can they even do it with the Maori, a case where there is far less opposition? Let us conclude that a nation must be evangelised, either by men born and bred within

it, or, at any rate, keenly alive to the meaning of its character. We must concede something in order to gain much. We must stoop to conquer.

After all, will not the world become Christian, in the highest sense of the word, by its own mere progress? Look what a mingling of blood, language, customs, and knowledge of various races and times there is. With what a strength the tide of civilisation has set in. Depend upon it, the best and strongest faith will find its own proper place. It will be master because it deserves to be: only, perhaps not in the way we suppose. Meanwhile, if we ask a dozen Christians what Christianity is to them, and what they can convey about it to others, we shall have many different answers, or from the same man different answers on different days.

Are we really convinced that we have an infinitely valuable treasure to distribute among men who for generations have been seeking for it, and by their search manifest a knowledge that they want it? Are we, again, convinced that this was made for them as much as hearing was made for the ear, or seeing for the eye, and that grace accompanies its communication? – that it is not an invention of man, such as a string of images; a portfolio of views; a change of clothing? If we are not convinced of this, let us give up the attempt to Christianise the world.

18. Native trade at Auckland.

Returning from this digression to the immediate subject of the section, I

feel anxious to remove from the mind of the reader, any unfavourable impression which he may have formed of the Maories, from the report of one who is, perhaps, too severe a critic. The northern Maories are far superior to their southern countrymen; their trade is already becoming a considerable item in the Auckland market. The following extract from a northern newspaper is important, because it appears to confirm the accounts which state that the natives are beginning to buy agricultural implements and machinery: –

"NATIVE TRADE. – From the 1st of July to the 30th of September, 1853, 345 canoes, navigated by 1324 men and 460 women, arrived in Auckland with the following produce: – 1223 kits of potatoes, 13 kits of onions, 625 kits of maize, 38 kits of kumeras, 186 kits of cabbage, 1 kit of flax, 657 kits of grass, 450 tons of wood, 5 3/4 tons of fish, 140 pigs, 17 ducks, 9 fowls, 13 kits of pumpkins, 126 1/2 tons of Kauri gum, 15 bags of wheat, 18 kits of oysters, &c., of an aggregate estimate value of 3241l. 3s. During the same period there arrived at Onehunga 89 canoes, navigated by 268 males and 130 females, laden with 255 kits of potatoes, 3 kits of onions, 86 kits of maize, 120 tons of wood, 130 pigs, 64 fowls, 2 tons of Kauri gum; value 379l. 3s. During the same quarter, 10 1/2 tons of flour, and half a ton of wheat, value 259l. 12s., were brought to Onehunga from the Waikato. The total produce thus brought to Auckland during the months of July, August, and September, is valued at 3879l. 18s."

19. Letter concerning land.

To show that the Maories value particular spots of land very highly, and also as an interesting specimen of their style, when they venture upon a letter, I

extract the following notice from the Lyttelton Times; let it tell its own story: –

"TO THE WHITE PEOPLE.

"Raupaki, June 1, 1852.

"MY FRIENDS,
"These are my words to you, which I write in the newspaper; words for the white people who dwell in all lands, as far as the end of the world. Let men pay attention to the words in this newspaper; let their eyes behold the letters well, and their mouths retain the words of this document! Listen to me, all of you!

"Kaiapoi was the place of all our forefathers; of Turangautahi, who left it to his offspring, who left it to our father, who lived at Kaiapoi. Now, my father was a chief indeed: he had a carved house, carved on both sides from the top to the bottom, carved all over. Its name was Te Huinga; the name of his food-store was Hikurangi, a large food-store carved all over. My father was a great chief.

"The children of Aritaua were born; as soon as they were born they died. When Aritaua considered that his children died, Aritaua went to Te Tuahiwi with his wife Te Hiwai. When they reached Te Tuahiwi, Tane stood up and said, 'Thou art come to thy place; for thee is all this place and land, all Tuahiwi.' Now Aritaua was the only man of Kaiapoi who first came to dwell at Te Tuahiwi. The name of the tribe that were at that place, Te Tuahiwi, was Ngaiterangi. Kaitupuku was the man of the tribe to hold the place; Tane also was the great chief of that place; Pikau, Rapa, these were all the chiefs of Te Tuahiwi.

"When Aritaua dwelt at Te Tuahiwi, the chieftainship and all the land fell to Aritaua; he was indeed the chief of Te Tuahiwi. Afterwards came Tuhakararu; they two dwelt at Te Tuahiwi when a party migrated from Kaiapoi to dwell at Te Tuahiwi. Aritaua waited for them on the way, and drove them back; this was continually his work

driving away the men of Kaiapoi, that they should not come and dwell at Te Tuahiwi. So he alone dwelt there.

"Now when the fight at Mona begun, my grandmother was pregnant. Tuhakararu and Aritaua paid for Te Tuahiwi, – baskets of mats were the payments, – two payments to Tane for Te Tuahiwi. The war party then arose; Aritaua went; many thousands were the warriors; they reached Mona, and fought; Aritaua was killed. The war party returned; they came to Te Tuahiwi, told the news, and wept. My father was then born, and his name was called Pakipaki.

"After Aritaua, Tuhakararu was the chief of Te Tuahiwi. The fathers of our grandfathers were patriarchs; and to them descended the chieftainship, and the command, and all the land, and all the power. Thus from our forefathers was derived the chieftainship: it had been yielded to their forefathers; they yielded it to us, – to me and my brother, so that we also are still chiefs.

"What my grandfather did was, commanding in all the lands, when he heard that one tribe was fighting against another tribe, making peace between them; therefore he was a great chief. Thus, there was no more fighting whatever, and peace was maintained for ever. Such were his deeds throughout all the lands, from Terawiti as far as Hiku, commanding peace; therefore he was a great chief. When he was dead, his peace was maintained.

"When our father died, his chieftainship came to us, to me and my brother, Pohau Wangahoro, and all that place, Te Tuahiwi. In that place ours are the rights for all one side; but the other side, that towards Te Waituere, to Ngaitupuku belongs the decision as to their own place. The side towards Te Tuahiwi belongs to us, because it was bought by our forefathers, in two payments; because our forefathers were constantly born there; by our forefathers alone was payment given to Tane; other men did not pay Tane.

"Now, listen, all ye white men! I desire that white men

should dwell at my place at Te Tuahiwi. But it depends on the payment; £8 a year is the payment for dwelling in that land, to cultivate potatoes, wheat, corn, and all other seeds, for firewood also. But I would also agree to take cows, or horses, as yearly payment.

"My friend, Godley, this is what I have to say to you relating to our conversation with Governor Grey. I agree that white men should saw plank at Te Tuahiwi, I am satisfied that white men should dwell there. To me and my brother belongs the arrangement of it. It depends on the payment. For 12 feet of plank, 2s. 6d.; for 14 feet, 3s.; such is to be the arrangement for all the trees: Mahi, Totara, Kahika; there is also Maire – that is a strong wood, Maire.

"But, my friends, let not my words be many in the newspaper, because my heart is sad about my land; because, my friends, by the land is a man kept straight. If there were no land, man, who protects woman from whom men are born, would die: but when the land is cultivated, and food is grown upon it, thence man is kept alive; if this was not, the body would die. My words are finished.
"From your loving friend,
" – – -."

CHAPTER XVII. ON THE CONSTITUTION OF NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER XVII.

ON THE CONSTITUTION OF NEW ZEALAND.

l. Why federative.

THE new constitution which has lately been granted to New Zealand, by a Tory Government, contains in itself matter for reflection; and also furnishes a curious contrast to the colonial performances of former Governments, some of which, at any rate, might have appeared, from their own professions, more likely to have been the authors of a liberal measure. It not only commences a new and grand policy, but also originates a principle of government not hitherto applied to any of the British colonies. The principle of federation, evidently borrowed from the practice of our American neighbours, is for the first time actively employed in the present instance, probably with a view to the peculiar circumstances of the country, into which the constitution was to be introduced. It cannot fail to strike any intelligent observer, who has read even the most ordinary accounts of the settlements of New Zealand, that we have in that country an assemblage of colonies, which are capable of being fede-

rated, or united together by some great common interest; but which can never be crushed or melted into one single uniform political body, except by some act of tyranny, which would violate at once the rights of the citizen and the material bounds of nature. A single glance at the map will show us that the principal settlements of New Zealand are far distant from one another; while a few minutes' attentive examination will further show that many of these settlements have their natural boundaries, which it is as impossible to alter, as it would certainly be impolitic to forget. Here, then, is a country in which the federative principle must of necessity be introduced, unless we choose to subdivide it into as many absolutely separate Governments as nature has assigned separate districts. There are peculiar circumstances, in addition to this, which render the case still stronger. First, the natural features of New Zealand have been taken into account by those who have hitherto superintended the colonisation of the country; and they have, so far from showing a disregard of the finger which pointed to a variety of communities, followed its dictation in their plans and regulations, and added conventional to already existing physical differences, in the course of forming their colonies. If the hand of nature pointed in that direction; if statesmen and politicians could not but acknowledge its guidance, it expresses itself also most forcibly in the present condition of the colonies, and the relations which they bear one to another.

They each possess an individuality which deserves to be guarded and respected, not only as an existing power founded in right, but as a legitimate influence, likely to lead the way to much good, which otherwise cannot be obtained. So far from feeling themselves altogether one, there is an amount of separation existing between the different settlements, which, in some instances, approaches isolation. It is true, that each of them possesses more or less communication with Wellington, which happens at present to be the seat of Government; but the intercourse generally between such settlements as Nelson and Otago, or Canterbury and Auckland, is now, and will for some time continue, rare, and the occasions of moving from one to another few and far between. A letter written from Canterbury to Auckland would, in all human probability, not bring an answer so soon as a letter written from the same place to England.

Well and wisely, therefore, did the British Government act, in its determination to respect the divisions which nature and man had combined to establish; and in respecting them, not to lose the essence of all government – a central power of action. These were the two poles upon which the new constitution was to swing. The former attempts to impose institutions upon the settlers of New Zealand recognised, indeed, a division of provinces; but men forgot to follow the principle to its legitimate consequences. The statesmen, by whom they were

directed, were content to resolve a country which nature had already apportioned, into one or two artificial provinces, such as a hasty glance at the map, and the treacherous conveniences of ink-bottle and paint-pot suggested to their fancy. Yet, perhaps, it is too much to say, that the division of New Zealand into two provinces, a northern and a southern, was purely arbitrary; there was a reason for it; but that reason had nothing to do with the wants and wishes of the white population. The old provincial division rested entirely upon the calculation of the numbers and the power of the Maori tribes; thus, while the northern province was, with the exception of the white settlements of Auckland and New Plymouth, entirely in the hands of the Maories; the southern province represented an overwhelming preponderance of white men, in power, if not in numbers. If such was the cause of the old division, it was plainly time to discard it, when the question of a constitution for the colonists lay before the British Parliament.

2. Former Constitution.

It will be remembered, that some years before, a quasi constitution had been granted. This, however, proved entirely unsuccessful; for the very critical state of the country, which was then plunged in civil war, obliged Sir George Grey to suspend its operation, as he was by Act of Parliament specially empowered to do; and when he afterwards sought to revive it, under more favourable circumstances, it soon became evident, from the way in which the

people received the intelligence, that the whole measure was doomed to fail. It was, indeed, a nicely-balanced machine, admirably put together, with the special view of cheating the people out of their rights, under a variety of ingenious pretences.

3. Present measure well received.

The present measure has been most favourably in New Zealand; and promises, as far as we can at present judge, to work well. It is, perhaps, almost presumptuous to examine or criticise its tendency; we may safely leave it to the colony to do so for itself; well persuaded that whatever faults exist are sure to come to light, and to be attacked by those whose immediate interest it is to see them remedied.

To draw out, in the first instance, a perfect colonial measure of this kind, a perfect form of constitution for a new country, is impossible; no man in his senses could expect such a prodigy; if possible, it would still be undesirable, for theoretical excellence is altogether a secondary consideration. Let us congratulate ourselves, then, that we have here, at least,a favourable beginning; that the people have received their charter in the same spirit as that in which it was tendered; and that it is further expressly so constructed, as to give ample scope for all reasonable changes, and ample means for carrying them into effect.

4. Its principle investigated.

It seems to recognise, tacitly, perhaps, but clearly and decidedly, the great principle which is the very foundation and

root of all successful imperial legislation. That principle may be arrived at by some such process of thought as this: – When a constitution is granted by a mother country to a colony, what is the exordium and preamble of every such grant? Why, as a necessary beginning, it entirely sweeps away whatever previous conditions, legislative or otherwise, existing between the two countries, could possibly be an obstacle to the new arrangement about to be entered into. The wax on the tablet is melted. We establish a new level, we form a fresh surface, and thereupon proceed to write an entirely new compact. In this compact, the two parties are presented to each other as entirely free, and their future connection is to be regulated by the new deed, which, without following former stipulations, is to govern their intercourse. Now, as there are two parties, so there are two interests, and the very idea of the connection implies not only the possibility, but the positive advantage, of blending and uniting them together. Common interest is the great cement of States. Now, in order to do so, in any secure and lasting manner, honour, as well as policy, proclaims that full justice must be done to each party in the union of both; if the interest of either contracting party is slighted, the compact is not likely to stand; if an unequal division is made; if undue interference is claimed on the one hand, or if unfairly-distributed burdens are submitted to on the other, there is danger, depend upon it, in store for the whole

plan. It is the highest policy to be just in the highest degree; and because one of the two contracting parties happens to be immensely superior to the other, or circumstances stronger than the wish of either, compel one to take the lower place, the greater room there is for care and foresight, lest an accidental difference should by any chance become the cause of a mistake in the articles of compact, which may tend to vitiate the equity of the whole proceeding. A single flaw may do it.

Now the two contracting parties are, in this case, the British islands on the one side, and the islands of New Zealand on the other; the first, representing a power of a thousand years' standing; the second, a small handful of people, a nation that is to be, a giant yet in his cradle. These two countries (the one – the foremost; the other – the last in the chain of imperial precedence) are bound together by the great natural connection of language, blood, ways of thought, and habits of life; and, further, by the necessity of a common system of defence which extends over the whole empire to which they belong.

5. Imperial development.

The great position, then, upon which their connection rests, is intelligible, expedient, and popular. Make the terms, therefore, such as may best correspond with their cause; let them be short, and such as every citizen can appreciate at once; send them smartly home to the hearts of the people; write them there in few

and simple words; let them become household furniture.

For what is the British empire? It is rapidly taking up its position as a vast federation of States, governed by one sovereign, and worked with variations to suit different circumstances, yet according to one policy.

If there is one thing more than another, which indicates to any thinking mind the barrenness and feebleness of at least a section of that Whig school to which we are indebted for our last reform bill, it is that they have never thoroughly appreciated the existence, or believed in the destinies, of the British imperial federation. They were right in their judgment of objects, as far as the range of their vision extended, – they could understand the dignity of England's position as a nursing mother of future mighty nations; but they never could understand that it was possible that a permanent connection could be established between the different nations and countries, which belong to the British empire. Accordingly they educated the colonies for independent States; and in so doing, they have done their very best to divide and break up their country. This shortsightedness was their misfortune, rather than their fault; if they repeated the boast of Chatham, it was but as a vague reminiscence of a power which they supposed was gone for ever; but the secret which was the talisman of such minds as Burke and Chatham, was a hidden mystery to them. That divine voice never "touched their trembling ears." They wanted

faith. If a mighty tempest tore away the goodliest bough from the British oak, and made it a tree by itself, there is life and vigour enough still left among us to supply the place of that loss; we can throw out new boughs and branches. If an empire was lost when the heart of Chatham broke, his sons know how to create another.

If now, we lay ourselves diligently to search and examine after the principle of renovation, feeling with all our soul after the spirit which has fled, if haply we may find it; if we believe, because we have thought; and dare speak, because we believe; we boldly assert, that the true principle of imperial connection is faith in the laws of nature and of man. Union may consist materially in a balance of interests; but yet it is not an interest; it represents the soul and intelligence, proceeding from men indeed, but which in its turn governs men; which confers a conscience upon the otherwise lifeless machinery of government, and gives it a life analogous to that of an organised living creature. The great law of organisation is well known; we may behold and study it, whether we look downwards at the flowers under our feet, or gaze upwards at the stars of heaven; from both we learn to take good heart, and have confidence in the kind intention of the great Creator and disposer of the universe, and the thorough goodness of the laws established by Him; one of the greatest of which may thus be interpreted in its application to men: that as long as a tolerably good common Government

exists, men will hold together and respect a common cause; that it is not the nature and tendency of families or nations to fall to pieces, but that they do so from long-continued, unbearable misgovernment,.

6. Applied to New Zealand.

To bind the New Zealand nation too closely down to the letter of any institutions framed in England; to intermeddle with their domestic affairs; to set them one against another in the futile attempt to establish a base dependency, – is to injure our fellow-citizens of New Zealand, and to cause disunion between ourselves and them. It is necessary, indeed, to begin by conferring a certain form of constitution; but the real matter to which alone we are called to attend is, not their constitution in itself, but their constitution as it relates to the empire. Our business, therefore, is not so much to dictate to them what they shall do, and to be very strict and nice in our requirements as to its fulfilment: nay, rather we can afford to trust that to them, and reserve all our power and energy for that part of the compact which is alone essential to us, – to wit, imperial reservations. I mean, in other words, that the fault of our colonial politicians, up to this time, has been the sending out to the various colonies a very accurate list of their various powers, privileges, and rights, which, after all, lightly considered, was a very unnecessary business; for they needed only to have forwarded a schedule of such privileges as it is necessary to reserve to Her Majesty for

imperial purposes; and which, though very important, need not be many in number.

This they should have done, and might have left the other undone, for men in the colonies know how to wear their own noses, and use their own teeth, just as well as we do, without particular instructions. They can see the sun without a candle from England to show them when it shines. While, therefore, there is every reason to applaud the letter of Sir John Pakington's constitution for New Zealand, let us never forget that its principal merits consist in its spirit and tendency – in leaving an open field to the colonists of that country, as far as possible, to manage their own affairs. Nor ought the smallest check or hindrance be imposed upon them should they see fit to alter its details, provided only that their alterations do not interfere with the general welfare of the great commonwealth to which we and they belong.

7. Constitution-making.

In one of the parliamentary discussions which took place some years ago on the broad question of constitutions for the colonies, a great statesman entered his protest against anything which might approach or resemble a cast-iron uniformity of constitution-making for the colonies. Constitutions, he urged, could not be turned out of a mould in that way. Individualities can never be ignored without danger; and the only way truly to express the individuality of the various countries with which we have to deal is, to suffer them to

form their own constitutions for themselves by degrees.

On the other hand, there is not the slightest reason why the articles of one common imperial code should not be broadly, and at once, laid down. They will, in fact, constitute the terms of union which will bind the various British nations together. The sooner this last is done the better. It all lies ready to be brought out.

8. Probable origin of some flaws in the measure.

A brief examination will suffice to show, that wherever Sir J. Pakington has keen induced to abandon the great principle of his measure, discrepancies have crept into the detail which are not unlikely to produce unfortunate consequences to New Zealand. The over and above ingenuity of some minds is fatal to the projects which they undertake. They lose the scope and design of the whole while they are wandering about in a forest of details. When they have once entered the trackless wood of their own forebodings and fears, or rather, when they have betaken themselves to their vulpine capacity, they seem to lose the Divine attributes of man, though they may boast that they surpass the brute in slyness, and the machine in precision: they forget the north, south, east, and west, the cardinal points of the compass. These state-machinations resemble the list of inventions which I read of in the "Model American Courier:" –

"One invention," it says, "is an electric clock, which wakes you up, tells you what time it is, and lights a candle

for you, at any hour you please. There is an invention that picks up pins from a confused heap, turns them all round with their heads up, and sticks them in paper in regular rows. Another cuts cheese; another scours knives and forks; another blacks boots; another rocks the cradle; and seven or eight take in washing and ironing. There are a number of guns patented, which load themselves; of fish-lines, that adjust their own bait; and a rat-trap, that throws away the rat and then baits and sets itself, and stands in the corner for another. The truths of the Patent-office are stranger than fiction."

In the balance of small gains, in the adjustment of petty risks (excellent things in their proper place), many a large measure is ground down to mediocrity.

9. Electoral divisions and qualification.

If it is a satisfaction to find that the constitution of New Zealand has been, as a general rule, unsullied by the introduction of any such blemishes as were sure to have proceeded from the ordinary class of constitution-makers, we may regret, on the other hand, that the author of it has not permitted the people of New Zealand to be guided by their own discretion in a matter which so clearly belongs to themselves, and to themselves only, as their own electoral divisions, and the qualification required of voters and members, whether of provincial or general assemblies. In the line which he has drawn, taken by itself, there is, perhaps, nothing objectionable. It would have been more liberal, however, to have placed the power of defining electoral districts for provincial purposes, in the first instance, in

the hands of the magistracy belonging to each province; and perhaps the same may be said of the voting qualification.

10. Dealings with the natives.

Again, it will be urged with some justice, perhaps, that to place the power of treating with the Maories for the purchase of their lands entirely in the hands of the Governor, is to place the colonist, to a fearful degree, under his power and control. It certainly must be admitted that it was a wise and politic arrangement, some years ago, to prohibit individual dealings with the Maories; but this is no reason why the colonists in their collective capacity should be entirely excluded from making such treaties of purchase as they choose with the natives. It is true this will hardly be felt in the southern settlements, but it will fall with peculiar hardship upon the people of Taranaki and Auckland.

11. Reserved list.

The reservation of certain sums of money intended as a provision for the great officers of state, and for native purposes, argues a great want of confidence in the colonists themselves. If it is for their interest that these establishments should be kept up, they may safely be trusted to settle what is the proper amount of remuneration in each particular instance, and to discharge it themselves.

12. Inflection of the New Zealand Company's debt.

But it is a much more formidable matter of complaint, that the enormous debt of the New Zealand Company, amounting to 268,000l. should

be saddled upon the waste lands of New Zealand. It is difficult, if not impossible, to make out any case in favour of such a tyrannical proceeding as this. The real reason probably is, that the Company was strongly represented in the House of Commons, and that the Government was fairly driven to give way to their demands.

13. Collision between provincial and general Assemblies.

If we proceed to inquire what are the principal obstacles which the measure is likely to meet with, and the dangers which it provokes, it must be admitted that a collision may very possibly take place between the provincial and general Assemblies. The power of the General Assembly of New Zealand overrides the Provinces to a very remarkable extent. They cannot regulate their own post-office; they have nothing to do with the erection of beacons and lighthouses on their own coasts; they cannot impose any shipping dues or other charges at any of their ports or harbours. The General Assembly, on the other hand, has power (Art. 69) to constitute new provinces; to alter boundaries; to appoint the number of councillors, and the manner of their election; to revise the provisions respecting the powers of the councils, and the distribution of the surplus revenue. It is not likely that these conditions will be tamely submitted to by the various provincial communities.

I see that Mr. Fitzgerald, on the occasion of his election to the office of superintendent at Canterbury, found it his duty to warn the people

to make use of the elective power lodged in their hands, so as beet to guard against the chance of any such collision: I read his speech with the greatest pleasure, and, I may add, with the greatest pride.

14. Danger of collision between the two races.

Another source of danger to which the operation of the new constitution is exposed, is that which mainly contributed to overthrow the former attempt. We must consider that, although the Maori population is yearly decreasing, it is at present nearly four times as great as that of the white men, rated as highly as possible. This population is, as a body, excluded from the franchise, for there are extremely few Maories the amount of whose property will qualify them to become electors. The vast majority of the natives are miserably poor. These people, however, will be subject to a considerable amount of indirect taxation at the pleasure of the General Assembly, inasmuch as the various articles of import which they use will certainly be taxed at the Custom House on their introduction into the country. It may be urged, as a set-off against this, that there is an especial clause for the protection and maintenance of the laws, customs, and usages of this portion of the population; that the sum of money set apart to be applied to native purposes may be regarded as an indemnification for the amount of taxation to which they will have to submit; and that it would have been obviously very impolitic to give the Maories

any virtual share in institutions, the nature and intention of which they cannot be supposed to understand. Still, there is danger lest the interference of the General Assembly with the funds intrusted to the Executive for native purposes should cause a renewal of former quarrels, which are now happily almost forgotten.

15. Constitution of the Legislative Council.

But the greatest danger which threatens the political well-being of New Zealand consists in the establishment of the Legislative Council; wherein we find the odious practice of nomineeism introduced to its utmost extent. The said Legislative Council is to consist of such persons, being not less in number than ten, as Her Majesty shall think fit to authorise the Governor to appoint. They are to hold their seats for the term of their lives, subject to certain customary conditions. The object of such a provision as this is surely plain enough. These unfortunate men are to be made a kind of breakwater between the Executive and the Popular Assemblies. It is argued in England that although their veto on any question may be really worth very little, yet their opposition may suspend the operation of any obnoxious measure, and turn away, or diminish the ill-will which would otherwise fall upon the Governor, and the imperial power which he represents. This argument is weak in itself, and falls with particular unfairness upon those who are to be placed in the invidious position of councillors. At any rate, it is advisable, if such

a council is to exist, and to be composed of the nominees of the Crown, that those who are appointed as members of it should not be placemen or officials. Let this be clearly understood. Without this stipulation it is impossible for such a body to preserve the respect of the people. Should it, however, be universally known and understood, that the Upper House consists of councillors, who, though they are appointed by the Crown, are yet independent and honourable men, not bound to it by any particular obligation: in that case their voice will be listened to, their assent will be something more than a form; their veto, more than a cowardly postponement.

But it is difficult to assign any sufficient reason why this Upper House should be nominated by the Crown at all. Any such attempt to extend the power of the Crown beyond what we have been taught to consider its proper limits would certainly be most steadily resisted in England, and the measure of the limit is in both cases the same. If there is any difference, it would be more natural to look for a less decided sway of the Crown in a distant colony than that which we are accustomed from long usage and association to regard with affection in England. The power of the Crown in the colonies is generally considered to be vested in the Governor only, or in the Governor and the Executive. To seek an indirect power by the aid of a number of Crown-appointed Councillors, without whose assent no measure may become law, is

but to give the imperial connection a suspicious look in the eyes of the people, who very naturally cannot be made to understand why the Crown should have three several holds upon them, for every measure is thus subjected to three several checks at least. First, it must pass the council, who are nominated by the Governor; secondly, it must be approved of by the Governor himself; thirdly, it must receive the constitutional assent of royalty in England.

And let it not be imagined that these several antechambers or approaches, which must be secured before the favour desired is obtained, are any real guarantee for the influence of the Crown, or even the preservation of its power; it is at best but a division of the imperial right of giving or refusing assent to any proposition.

The first section (that is, the councillors aforesaid) acts as a mere breakwater. The Governor can only give a provisional assent. Last of all may come an answer in the negative from England, which will, if the previous assent of council and Governor has been obtained, only preserve one-third of the respect which it would otherwise have had in the colony. It is an unconstitutional division of power, which has the effect of weakening the authority which it pretends to strengthen; it is an imbecile device, evidently proceeding from the maxim so dear to statesmen of a certain class, that there is safety in a multitude of councillors.

If we turn to the charters of the old English

colonies, we shall find, that, except in cases of usurpation and open violation of established law, they were extremely free in this respect; the fact is, that they generally possessed and exercised the power of making and enforcing their own laws, provided nothing was enacted contrary to the laws of Great Britain; that the principal evils to which they were exposed, consisted in the violent and lawless invasion of their rights, by wicked and domineering governors, rather than in the constant and jealous interference of the mother country.

If, then, it is an ill-advised step to obtain for the Crown the power of appointing a council of this description, it may very justly be asked of those who oppose such a chamber, whether there ought to be any Upper House at all, and if so, how it should best be constituted? This is a question upon which there is the greatest difference of opinion in the colonies themselves; some people would have an Upper Chamber elected; but by a different constituency from that of the Lower. The elective franchise might be higher; and certain conditions might be imposed upon the members of the council, as that their property in the colony should exceed a certain amount; that they should have exercised certain trusts before; with other such precautions as will readily occur to the reader. There are others, who would place the election of the Upper Chamber entirely in the hands of the Lower; a recommendation according to which the People would repeat the mistake of the Crown. If the Upper Chamber, or council,

is to consist of the wisest citizens of the country, specially chosen to balance and unite the powers of the Executive and of the Commons; they ought, surely, to be free from any overwhelming influence on either side. Perhaps the best way to secure this position of independence, which alone can enable them to deserve that respect which they must have to discharge the function for which they are intended, is to make the council elective indeed; but to reserve a right of veto in every election, both to the Governor, as the Queen's representative, and to the Lower House of Assembly also. The constituency might consist of freeholders of a considerable stake in the colony.

16. Appointment of the Governor.

The appointment of a Governor is another matter upon which there is considerable difference of opinion. The Governor, in every colony, exercises a double trust First, to the colony itself, being the head of its Executive, generally holding powers considerably greater than are associated with royalty in this country. Again, he is the repository of imperial supremacy; he holds this trust directly from the constitutional Governor of the empire. Now, if the Governor is regarded as the head of the Executive, it might seem only reasonable that those for whose benefit that Executive is established, should have a voice in his appointment. Since, on the other hand, he is the representative of Majesty, the empire cannot afford to lose its influence in the matter. Now, the difficulty being such, perhaps the easiest and most equit-

able manner of settling it might be, to leave the nomination of the Governor in the hands of those who are most immediately interested in him. Now, the colony is most immediately interested in him, as head of the Executive, and the Imperial right might be safely guaranteed by the reservation of a veto, upon his appointment, to the constitutional Governor of the mother country; and also by the conditions which might be attached to the office, as, that his assent to any measure should be merely provisional; or, rather (which perhaps would be at once more liberal and more politic), that any assent that he might give to any measure, contrary or repugnant to the laws regulating the imperial connection, should be, ipso facto, null and void.

17. Ultimate Authority.

Who, then, is to decide whether such measures are to be considered as coming under this head or not? It might seem that the principal officer of the whole empire ought to be entrusted with this power, yet there is great danger in granting such a prerogative to any man, or any ministry. Far better would it be to establish a Supreme Court, consisting of the great legal advisers of the Crown, who, uninfluenced, if possible, by the politics of the day, may decide upon the question coming before them, simply as a matter of law.

18. Our empire a great federation.

We have observed that the British empire is gradually undergoing a change; a change which need not in the slightest degree affect the political consti-

tution of Great Britain; but a change which if the empire is to continue at all, will absolutely necessitate the introduction not only of an imperial code, but of an imperial court of adjudication, to interpret that code, and to decide upon any dispute which may arise, whether between one limb of the empire and another, or between the whole empire, and one of its constituent States. The Constitution of the United States of America provides for this difficulty, which has been long felt by them. I trust it is doing no dishonour to the reputation of our British statesmen, to entreat them to borrow a leaf upon this subject from the book of that great Federation, which has taken so much from us, and which sets us, on some few matters, so notable an example. It is surely necessary that the colonies should, as soon as possible, understand their true place, and rise to the dignity of States; this they are determined to do; and so far from this being a source of regret to us, our interest and even our pride, require that no artificial obstacles be thrown in their way. Let New Zealand, for instance, have its acknowledged position, and in course of time its voice, as a State of the empire.

The establishment of a Supreme Imperial Court, besides its direct benefit, would be of great indirect service, by doing away an inconvenience, which is very much felt in the present state of things; it would save the dignity of the Crown from rude collisions with distant communities, and often upon very small and petty matters,

which nothing but some miserable misconstruction or party prejudice can wrest and torture into a matter of dispute, and possibly of alienation; let the power of the Crown, the source of all honour, and the fountain of dignity, – -let it, if possible, never be specially invoked nisi dignus vindice nodus.

19. On the laws of extension.

In treating of natural greatness, as asserted in extent and increase of empire, does not Bacon caution us that it is by all means to be procured that the trunk of Nebuchadnezzar's tree of monarchy be great enough to bear the branches and the boughs; that is, that the natural subjects of the Crown or State, bear a sufficient proportion to the strange subjects which they govern? and then proceed to argue, what the two great means of enlargement are: the first being, the naturalisation or assimilation of foreign citizens and foreign States into the sovereign country; and the next, which seems naturally to accompany it, being the custom of the plantation of colonies; "whereby," he says, "the Roman plant was removed into the soil of other nations: and putting both constitutions together, you will say that it was not the Romans that spread upon the world, but it was the world that spread upon the Romans; and that was the sure way of greatness." Here we have an oracle wrapt up in a paradox; had this been the saying of an ordinary writer, it would only have excited our laughter. To say that the sure way of greatness is, not for a nation to spread upon the

world, but for the world to spread upon a nation, and to make this spreading consist in the two constitutions of taking up others into ourselves and planting out ourselves upon others, is hard and difficult to be understood indeed. Paradoxical it surely is; but the greater the paradox, the greater the truth. He rested his belief in the truth which he enunciated, in two great laws of nature; the first being the relation of man to the world; and the second, that of proportion and harmony. Mankind is the master of the world, as far as it stands at present under his feet; as far as he dares trust himself to understand it. He is to live, and govern, and do his duty, and all things in his world are to minister to him and further his progress. In this sense, the world is meant for man, if one thing ever was contrived for another: he needs but to assert his supremacy, having perfect faith that he possesses it. So, too, with supreme nations, and master-minds: they are intended to exercise dominion. The whole world around them comes to submit itself, just as the beasts were said to have been brought to Adam, that he might name them. Increase, therefore, and empire, are based upon the perfect faith in a national greatness, to begin with; – a greatness which can require no addition in itself from the gifts or submission of others; instead of which it gives itself, and takes the stranger into its own life, being strong enough to carry many States, and to make them parts of itself. This is the duty which is set over against sovereignty, so

that sovereignty can only thrive by acknowledging it, and thrive by the discharge of such duty. The wonderful spread of the British empire is nothing more than a comment upon these words. The nation colonises on the one hand, while it assimilates on the other. The world hereby grows upon them, and becomes a part of their greatness. Hence, too, we may gather the secret of the real difference between the brute dominion of force, and a dominion of justice, civilisation, and humanity. The first takes all, and gives nothing; the second takes, in order that it may give a tenfold return, and raise the subject State to its own level. The first destroys and ruins; the second educates and endows.

The second law of nature upon which he founded his assertion is that of proportion. He alludes to it under the figure of Nebuchadnezzar's tree, the trunk of which was to bear the boughs and branches. One law without the other will not succeed. "The Spartans," he says, "were a nice people in point of naturalisation, whereby while they kept their compass they stood firm, but when they did spread, and their boughs were become too great for their stem, they became a windfall upon the sudden."

Now consider, with immediate reference to this, the present position of the British empire, and then ask yourselves whether there is not some danger here, too, lest the boughs should become too great for the stems, and what is the way to meet that danger.

20. Applied to our empire.

If, by way of conclusion, we apply these remarks practically to the case of our colonies; the object in view being to secure such a vital connection between the various parts of the empire, that they may all serve one another, and the whole increase fairly, and in due proportions; what disposition ought the greatest country in the imperial league to evince in its treatment of the inferior ones?

There are in the British empire at present three distinct systems of government at work. The first is that of the British islands, where it may safely be said that constitutional liberty is carried to its highest pitch, and the glory of government appears in its greatest possible splendour.

The second is represented by India, a conquered country, wearing its chains, governed by resident emissaries; held in awe not less by physical force than by a great weight of opinion. That the history of British India, though a masterpiece of policy, and a remarkable monument of arms, is a slur upon the escutcheon of England; that India is an increasing difficulty, and a responsibility to which we are apparently unequal; that, further, the necessary immorality of foreign sway, and some peculiarly heinous stains connected with it, tells heavily on our national character at home, – few can doubt. While yet the day of trial remains, let us endeavour, as regards this great possession, to put in practice the lesson of that great man. It is not yet too late. The third form of government is that with

which we have immediately to do in the present treatise. It is mixed, provisional, varying with every change of the day, various as are the races with which it is concerned. In our colonies we have the three British nations represented. We have barbarians, some half reclaimed, some absolutely savage. We have, also, numerous descendants of European settlers. We have a Dutch and French nation, which still retain the language, and many of the customs of their former countries. At the Cape we have all these elements fermenting together. In Ceylon, which is included in the list of our colonies, – God knows why, – we have a race of ancient but decayed civilisation, whose religion, in a great measure unstudied, is older than the Christian: its adherents in the East of Asia being reckoned by hundreds of millions.

21. How managed hitherto.

Whether we consider the extent of the field of operation, or the diversity of race, climate, custom, and religion, or the varieties introduced by the changes of time, by mixtures and fusions, we find it the more extraordinary, nay, more impossible, to believe that all this vast and unwieldy frame can ever have been guided through the intricacy of its various ramifications by one bureau. Impossible. It must have blundered its own way into its present incongruities and absurdities.

22. No colony a mere dependency.

There is a plain and obvious line of distinction, founded upon an incalculable difference, to be drawn between

the condition of such countries as Ceylon and New Zealand, compared with one another. Without attempting to define the actual position of some of our foreign possessions which are occasionally dignified by being called "colonies" – however these may be governed – it may safely be said, that to attempt to govern a real colony as a mere dependency is ridiculous. The more you treat a colony as a child, the more childish it gets. Every society is old enough to govern itself, however young in point of years. Again, all colonial government, as at present practised, is foreign government, whereas all beneficial governments of freemen must proceed from within. Every colony and every society exists by the living-principle of growth within itself. You cannot substitute the outward rule for the inward instinct of order and development. And if you by your interference check the natural growth of a society, and substitute deformities of your own creation, you have done your best to kill that society. Better, I think, take away the life of countless "singular persons," than that common life by the inspiration of which they become citizens. You merely talk of forming a colony or society, but you can no more make a colony in the true sense than Frankenstein could make a man. It is not inherent in one society to make another in this way.

23. Dangers of indifference.

Where genuine life, natural, vigorous, and true is not allowed, there

some hideous counterfeit is sure, sooner or later, to disclose itself. The true way to guide men is, to put them in the way of guiding themselves. Nor ought we to calumniate liberty by attaching to it anarchic licence as an inseparable accident. There will always be some amount of struggling and contention, and perhaps even violence, about the beginning of liberty, or self-government, call it which you will. But this will wear off as men get used to it; and I boldly assert, that a strong leaven of the spirit of political agitation and collision is advantageous to any people; but indispensable to the Anglo-Saxon race, as it is the only way of making them inquire, investigate, and think at all.

A great political contest is an education for a whole generation. The histories of Rome and England are scarcely anything else. We must have an antidote against stagnation, and here it is. God forbid that the common people in our countries should ever be struck with the paralysis of carelessness or inattention about their Government. They will next forget the meaning of the institutions of their fathers – -they will lose the spirit of our sacred constitution, and having forgotten and lost that, what will they begin to do, when any public storm descends, but clamour for some absurd change, by which most likely they themselves are deluded and robbed? Blessings unused cease to be blessings. The strong arm, unexercised, becomes weak.

And of bare uniformity.

And let us beware of a bald system of uniformity. Uniformity, laid down, cut out, and dried, measured and squared by the rule; and centralisation, which drags everything to a bureau, and destroys the very principle of life, and a virtual dependence upon one common centre by substituting an artificial one, – these are the bane of nationalities and of empires. No one seems to feel enough the power and beauty of variety, and the vast utility of smaller circles, each complete within itself, and all connected together by a common centre. Various nationalities, various embodiments of social life – of tradition, religion, or language, each having the trace of a distinct character, are the work of the same Hand which has made the continent and the island, the river and the mountain, the forest and the prairie, and which, in all these various types, presents various sources and forms of strength and enjoyment. "Life let us cherish." Let us determine to live.

CHAPTER XVIII. THE CHURCH IN NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE CHURCH IN NEW ZEALAND.

1. General principles for a Church constitution.

THE Bishop of New Zealand, in a pastoral letter, dated April 19, 1852, recommended to the colonists the following as "general principles" for the basis of a constitution of the church in New Zealand: –

"1. That the Bishop, Clergy, and Laity shall be three distinct orders; the consent of all of which shall be necessary to all acts binding upon the Church at large.

"2. Subject to the foregoing principle, that each order be at liberty to conduct its deliberations separately, or to unite with the others, at its own discretion.

"3. That provisionally, till a definition of Church membership shall have been agreed on by a general convention, every person shall be deemed a member of the Church of England who shall make a written declaration to that effect to the Clergyman of his parish, or district.

"4. That every adult Church member who shall have been duly registered, be entitled to vote at the election of lay representatives to the first General Convention.

"5. That it shall rest with the General Convention to decide how, and by whom, all patronage shall be exercised, and in what manner all persons holding Church offices shall be removable from the same; and also to fix the amount of all salaries, fees, and other allowances.

"6. That it is necessary that the Church body, constituted

as above, should be legally incorporated; and that all sites of churches, burial grounds, schools, and lands for the endowment of the church, &c., should be vested in the general incorporation.

"7. That in order to maintain the Queen's supremacy and union with the mother church, a draft of the constitution proposed for the Church in New Zealand, be submitted to her Majesty's Secretary of State for the Colonies, and to the Archbishop of Canterbury through the metropolitan Bishop of Sydney, with a petition that her Majesty would be graciously pleased to direct the necessary steps to be taken, whether by Act of Parliament or by Royal Charter, to secure to our branch of the English Church, the liberty, within certain limits, of framing laws for its own government.

"8. That neither the doctrines, nor the ritual of the Church of England, nor the authorised version of the Bible, shall, in any way, be subject to the decision of the general Convention.

"9. That the Bishop of New Zealand be requested to embody the above resolutions in the form of a petition, and to take such stops as may be necessary for carrying into effect the wishes of the memorialists."

In the pastoral letter accompanying this the Bishop expresses his conviction, grounded upon accounts from other colonies and from England, that the time for a church constitution has arrived. "The necessity," he goes on to say, "for this measure arises mainly from two causes. First, that the church in this colony is not established by law; and, consequently, that a large portion of the ecclesiastical law of England is inapplicable to us. Secondly, that the church in this colony is dependent mainly upon the voluntary contributions of its members." He con-

cludes by giving his reason for desiring "a charter of incorporation to be granted to our branch of the English church, in order to frame bylaws for ourselves in all such matters as relate to our own peculiar position." The reason is, that such laws could not be obtained in any other manner; convocation in England being a dead letter; and the constitution of the British and colonial Legislatures being such that they are not competent to enact laws for the government of the church.

2. Movement in its favour.

The intelligence from England here , spoken of was, I presume, an account of the strenuous exertions of Mr. Gladstone to procure a free church constitution for Australia. Mr. Gladstone's attempt failed, as far as its direct object was concerned; but it was of great service indirectly, in awakening the attention of churchmen in Australia and New Zealand to the nature of their position. It was an appeal to them to begin to look more earnestly after their own interest as members of the church; that while others were thinking and acting for them in England, they should not for shame be so fainthearted as to neglect their own part in the struggle. This appeal was warmly answered by the Pacific colonies. Particularly in every part of New Zealand, meetings of churchmen took place, and resolutions were passed expressing the unsatisfactory position in which the church stood. Altogether there was a strong feeling everywhere that some change must and ought to take place: such a change as would awaken the

body of the people to a sense of their wants, their duties, and their rights as members of the church.

At Canterbury a committee was formed, and a memorial was forwarded to the Bishop of New Zealand, setting forth the state of public opinion, and praying for his advice and assistance. The Bishop concluded from all this, and I think we may safely conclude with him, that the time for a church constitution had arrived. He felt, no doubt, that it was his business not to suffer the feelings and desires thus awakened to evaporate in inaction, or to be wasted in disputes and delays; but to gather them towards some definite effort; to guide them; give them purpose, force, and meaning. His Lordship was evidently most thoroughly in earnest; and surely his conscientious endeavours in the cause of his church deserve to be crowned with success. Their result remains to be seen.

3. Ecclesiastical law.

When the Bishop says, that "a large portion of the ecclesiastical law of England is inapplicable to us" in New Zealand, he refers, of course, to the internal regulations by which the system of church discipline is by law maintained and enforced in England. There is, indeed, in the Supreme Court, a substitute for so much of the English ecclesiastical law as relates to the laity, and which, after all, is only a remnant of a Romish usurpation, which stole in with the Norman-French conquest of England.

In the Supreme Court ordinance of 1844,

it is provided in paragraph 4, that the court shall

"Have exclusive jurisdiction in all questions relating to testacy and intestacy, and the validity of wills of personal property, as fully as any Ecclesiastical Court has in England. The Court shall also have exclusive power to grant probates of wills and letters of administration of the estates and effects of deceased persons, and to take order for the due passing of the accounts of the executors and administrators of such persons."

The other portion of ecclesiastical (i.e. the purely and strictly ecclesiastical) law, is unknown both in New Zealand and, I believe, in any British colony.

4. Present position of the church.

Since the church has no legal existence in the colony, it has, of course, no special laws or jurisdiction which can be enforced by the State. It exists just as the Roman Catholic or the Wesleyan bodies exist, with the exception that their systems are built expressly to meet such a difficulty; while "ours," if I may so call it, is nicely calculated to work as a dependency of the State. Thus the church gets hit on both sides; and it seems only just to demand either an independent existence, or, at any rate, the benefits of dependency. The church of New Zealand has neither the first nor the second, if we except certain pecuniary aids, which might probably be dispensed with were she in a healthy condition. Now the Bishop says: – give us a constitution, give us independent action; make our church capable of ordering its

own affairs. We demand the power of self-government inherent in an "estate."

5. What is the church constituency.

But there is a difficulty at the very threshold of this church-constitution movement. It is a difficulty which suggested itself immediately, wherever the agitation began, and seemed to swell as it continued. The Bishop, in his third article, alludes to it in the words "definition of church membership." The question unfolds itself as follows. For what body is this constitution demanded? For the church in New Zealand (we will suppose it to be understood that the Church of England is the church). What is its object? To give the church a power of acting for itself. How is it to govern itself? Its constituent members must decide that. Who are its constituent members? Many answers have been given to this question, which, however simple it may appear at first sight, is really one of the most difficult which could possibly solicit a practical answer. All that the Bishop attempts to do is, to give a provisional definition, which may be adopted or rejected, as seems good to the first general convention.

"Those who make a written declaration to the clergyman of their parish, shall be taken for members of the church," and, after being duly registered may vote at the election of lay representatives. In other words, the lay representatives in the first general convention, on whose decision the definition of the franchise is to

depend, are to be chosen by a self-elected constituency. A course like this may be justified, on the ground that it is necessary to make a commencement in some way or other; and that this is the least objectionable initiatory measure which could be proposed; nay, it may be recommended as large and liberal. It is, nevertheless, open to a very strong objection. Will the lay representatives, elected in such a manner, carry any weight with them? Ought not the franchise to be authoritatively fixed anterior to any election, as a matter of necessity, in order to give weight to that election?

6. Who is to fix it?

But who is to fix it? And of what description is it to be? – Since the Church of England is the mother church, we may naturally look in that direction. Must we refer the question to Her Majesty and the heads of the church in England, or to Convocation? Or must we follow the steps of the mother church as far as possible, without questioning any of her authorities? They must be sanguine indeed, who expect to wring from either the Court or Bishops of England, a single word to advance the independent interests of any church whatever. Convocation is entranced; meeting only upon sufferance; and never allowed to enter upon its proper business. And, were it as active as its friends could wish, to ask the representatives of the English clergy to fix a definition for church-membership for the use of the laity of New Zealand, surely grates against common

sense. Nor is there any precedent in English history worth anything for the purpose. Perhaps the English were too wise to allow of any such definitions, or rather, since all were considered Christians, and therefore members in common of the church until they were excommunicated, there was need of none. In old English times, when the nation and the church were coextensive, the various classes and orders of the nation were represented in parliament, and the clergy had representative institutions of their own, in the spiritual provinces of Canterbury and York. Their convocations were first made a means of taxing them by King Edward I. He could better squeeze them when he had them together assembled. But they were too stout to collect at the summons of the King, denying that he had any right to assemble them. So it was managed by an accommodation. The King wrote to the Archbishop, and the Archbishop summoned the clergy: thus their scruples were quieted. In after times, the Convocation became a mere State machine; and so soon as it ceased to be profitable, Royalty dropped it. It is obvious enough that the old English system was based upon circumstances and principles altogether and entirely different from anything we have now-a-days. The essential difference may thus be summed up. Our aim at present is, to obtain a representation of the whole church within itself, apart from any nationality; whereas, according to the old English theory, church and

nation went together; and it was the clergy who had a peculiar representation confined to themselves. Again, it is an important, though merely accidental difference, that, while the English church was and is richly endowed, the church in New Zealand depends mainly upon voluntary contributions.

Lastly, the laity in England is represented in the government of the church, through the direct and indirect channels of royalty and of parliament, and, in particular parishes, by the ratepayers. To deny this, is to confine the application of the word "representation" within very narrow bounds. But this is impossible in New Zealand. Our church there is not one whit more connected with the colony than any other religious body is. Nor is it advisable, in these days, that any difference in this respect should exist. It is therefore, for many reasons, next to impossible to have any definition of church membership for New Zealand, settled either by existing authority in England, or from any analogy in English history. Let us now inquire whether there is any other clue to guide to a decision, either in practical life, or in the ancient constitution of the primitive church.

7. A money payment proposed.

His Excellency Sir George Grey, at the meeting held at Wellington, January 7th, 1852, proposed an annual payment, as a Constituency-basis for a Church Society. But this again was merely provisional; and is only mentioned here to show

the possibility of such an arrangement being suggested. Such a plan would be less distasteful in a thriving colony than anywhere else; because, if the contribution was fixed at a small yearly sum, there would be very few families unable to belong to the church; and it is probable that the poor would be exactly those who would take the greatest pride in the punctuality of their payments. But a proposal to make money the first condition for admission to any privilege in a religious society, is surely, whatever be its apparent expediency, in itself objectionable; for the most religious people are the most opposed to it.

8. Sacramental test.

It was proposed at Canterbury, that the lay constituency should consist of the communicants of the church; that those who were in the habit of receiving the Lord's Supper should be the elective body. This proposal is generally viewed with favour by those who have read and thought most on the subject. Archdeacon Hare, in his "Means of Unity," distinctly recommends it, and in such a manner as plainly shows that he does not believe there ought to be a doubt about its adoption; for whereas he enters into a learned argument, and brings forward authority to prove that the laity ought to be represented in a general convention of the church, according to the custom and constitution of the primitive church; he passes over this question of who shall elect the lay members, with a short and simple notice, that

church communicants are the constituency. Would it be too much to ask Archdeacon Hare to enter at length into this subject? assuring him that it is by no means so obvious to those who have not his capital of knowledge and thought to bring to bear upon it. Or such men as Mr. Charles Harriot or Mr. Maurice may kindly instruct us. It is not easy for us accurately to define our difficulty; if we could do that, perhaps we might hope to solve it for ourselves; but I think the following may be taken as a rough expression of the feelings of those who entertain a distrust of the "Communion" test; who doubt its working powers; and reject the ordinary reasoning, by which it is advocated.

9. Sketch of objections.

Is there not something wrong in making the outward form of a purely spiritual act the qualification for a vote? Will not this directly tend to lower the sacrament of the Lord's Supper in the eyes of the people? Will it not increase the common misunderstanding, already so prevalent, respecting the Lord's Supper? Comparatively few church people do, in fact, habitually communicate. There are even good people who, from one reason or another, do not. Now, can these be safely excluded, when a new church constitution is being proposed; or an old one revived, with alterations to suit the circumstances of the times? Again, is the participation in the outward rite any real test of the presence of – I say not strong religious feeling, but – a sound judgment?

Is it the slightest guarantee? What! it will be answered, Do you then suppose such a guarantee is possible? And is it to be looked for in any conceivable property qualification, or registered declaration? No; we are aware that such a guarantee is impossible; but as it is equally so in every case, there is no extraordinary advantage to be obtained from a test, founded on the observance of a rite. But if it has no extraordinary advantage in itself, what is there to recommend it?

10. Usage of the ancient church.

The usage of the ancient church (they reply), coming to us, not with the force of an injunction, but with the winning grace of a persuasion. Now we feel a difficulty in ascertaining what the usage of the ancient church was; and, again, in recognising a distinct analogy between her condition in early times, and ours now. Such an analogy, we mean, as might support an argument of precedent, coming with the force of authority in this matter. Concerning the ancient Christian usage, what does Neander say? We can all of us, at least, read the English translation of his History of the Church, for the first centuries. We can all of us read this great work; – the monument of one of the most learned men that ever lived, a most humble and sincere Christian, who certainly omitted nothing worthy of note, however well known and trite, large or small, it may happen to be. Everything is explained in an audience where the ignorant are in the presence

of a friend; – where the most learned are at the feet of a master. Now, Neander speaks clearly enough as to the fact, that the laity had a voice in the deliberations of the ancient churches, which they appear gradually to have lost, as the power of the Christians extended itself into the State; but we cannot find that this "voice" was ever in its nature defined, nor indeed were the laity ever "represented," in the vulgar sense of the term. If it appears that the multitude of the faithful, the elect, the church, were present at elections, did they ever do more than express their feelings in debate by acclamation? Did it amount to anything more than a vague popular influence? It certainly appears plain and natural, that those only would be admitted on such occasions, who were allowed to partake of the highest mystery of the church – the Lord's Supper – which was the privilege of the fully-approved Christian.

Again, everybody knows that frequent, and even daily communion, was the practice of the earliest Christians.

"In the Roman, Spanish, and Alexandrian churches," says Neander, "daily communion was still practised, at least in the fourth century. In other churches the custom was, to observe the communion less frequently, each individual, in fact, joining in it according as his own inward necessities required. This diversity of practice also grew out of the different views which prevailed respecting the use of this means of grace."

Some who were in favour of the less frequent participation of the sacrament, said certain seasons ought to be chosen, in which Christians might prepare themselves; others, maintained that Christians ought never to keep away from the ordinance, except when they were suspended from participation by the Bishop.

That this influence of the laity in church matters, this constant "communion" of all Christians – that both went on together, we doubt not – our doubt is, how far the two were necessarily connected together. Who can lay his finger on the connecting link? Suppose, fifteen hundred years hence, that a question arises, whether the right to vote at a common election in England, depended upon the payment of taxes; suppose that it can be proved that there were, in 185-, an hundred electors in the town of X, and that all, as a fact, were in the habit of paying their taxes; might it be concluded, that voting in England at that time, depended upon payment of taxes? Obviously, such a conclusion would not be good; but if a speech of Mr. Hume's, shortly subsequent to that date, could be found, complaining that electors should be prevented from voting because they had not paid up, and begging for a change, on the ground that voting and tax-paying had nothing to do with one another, it might then be fairly concluded, that the exercise of the one depended upon the other.

To this the other side would reply, by urging probability. If we had (we may rejoin) no

independent objection to what they urge, the argument of probability might suffice; but since we have, we beg to remind them, that we expect something more of them, before we can be satisfied. As the matter stands, they can only affirm, and we may admit, that the lay-constituency – or rather, what resembles, in some degree, our notion of a constituency – consisted of all Christians not under censure. Were this definition adopted in our times, it would only exclude evil livers, and would include all church people, whether they actually attended the sacrament or not; so that, if there is any precedent, it points in that direction.

11. Dispute concerning the Sacrament.

There is another difficulty which concerns the holy sacrament itself. It must not be forgotten, that it is very differently regarded by the two great parties in the church: one party regard it as a simple memorial of our Lord, the other, as a special and direct means of grace; to one party, it is (a most touching, but only and purely) a natural occurrence; to the other, there is a supernatural and miraculous agency at work; and each party is ready to defend its view, by an appeal to antiquity, and to the Bible: now, where there is such an essential difference, as there is between the high and low church party upon the sacramental theory, is it wise, is it politic, to make a sacrament the basis in fact of a church constitution? and is there not, again, something foreign to the view of either party, in the fact recorded by Neander, that the Lord's Supper was admi-

nistered to infants in the church of North Africa?

"For they did not sufficiently distinguish between the sign and the divine thing which it signified; and understanding all that is said in the sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel, concerning the eating of the flesh and drinking of the blood of Christ, of the mere outward participation of the Lord's Supper, they concluded that this from the very first was absolutely necessary to the attainment of salvation."

12. Can Scripture be called in?

If we are unable to find anything in early church history, which can be considered at all conclusive, in favour of a sacramental elective qualification for our church in our time; if we believe that the proposal must, like any other, rest solely upon its own merits, and reasons of expediency, and that the attempts to bring it in with a high hand, under cover of church usage, can only be argued by narrowing the question, and distorting analogy; we may still ask ourselves, whether there is anything in the Word of God in favour of the claim alluded to; thus leaving the stream to drink at the source; leaving the primitive ages for the Apostles themselves; if there is anything, it will be found in the Acts, or the apostolic letters that succeed them. From the 15th chapter of the Acts, it is clear that the earliest Christians assembled together to deliberate; and it continually appears, that they were in the daily habit of breaking bread (communicating): chap. ii. 42-46.

It is perfectly plain, then, that the same people

did both, but did they, as a fact, take their share in the public business of the church, because they communicated, one whit more than because they diligently performed all other duties, and enjoyed other privileges? Whatever belonged to their private or public life was sanctified to God; there was no miserable cutting-up of the entire life into parts, but all belonged to the whole. If all went together, why select one? What is there in the Bible to fix one spiritual act more than another?

13. A good life the real communion.

But it is said, the Holy Communion is the very essence of all other spiritual acts; is is not only the greatest, but it may be said to include all others. Not, be it replied, if we read the Bible aright; the grossest darkness of superstition, the narrowest ignorance of what is in "man," has degraded the grand old Christian sacramental theory of life into a few rites. Both our great parties, while they dispute about the nature and definition of this or that sacrament, appear to have let go the divine consciousness of life in every action being a sacrament to the child of God.

This moral blindness makes them forget that God is the God of the East and the West alike; Tabor and Hermon, and not less the smallest hillock, rejoice before Him. Let them continue, however, to quarrel about rags; the treasure is safe enough, though they will never find it.

The ancient Christians were so full of the sweet, blessed, and most comfortable thought, that God alone is, and alone can be, Very Life, that they

were minded of it, and of their divine founder as showing it forth, in the commonest act of living; they thought of it when they ate and drank: but the flower faded, and their successors from generation to generation have gone on misunderstanding and misrepresenting the character of those men, till now their sayings and doings, their thoughts and ways, are as much dead to us, as the language of men before the Dispersion.

"Nature brings not back the Mastodon,
Nor we those times:"

but of all the phantasies which have ever deluded the brains of the blind sons of the blind, that surely is the strangest, which has pointed them to the Bible for proof that the Lord's Supper, as we celebrate it, ought to be an elective test for the laity. The absurdities to which a logical treatment, impartially worked out of the context, in the second chapter of the Acts, would lead upon such a supposition, might fill a book.

14. Liberty inherent in every church.

But, granting that the practice of the apostolic church were clearly made out in favour of a sacramental qualification; granting that an analogy in this matter really exists; granting that passages in the Bible not only apparently, but really, favouring this view can be produced, – what then? We are just as free as ever; for, let it never be forgotten, that, if there are fixed laws in the great scheme of salvation, expressed in the constitution of Christendom, so there are matters left

to the judgment of every age. No church, no body of churches, can trench upon the immunities of another; no age upon its successor, without at once falling into the sin of Rome. These immunities may be thus stated: They are the individuality, the special constitutional right of every church, to adjust its own polity, salva Catholica fide; to create, settle, and arrange and alter its own institutions, so as to suit its own position. No Protestant, no charitable Catholic, ought to deny this; but many cut down this right of choice into a poor, dry, valueless formula. Both Roman Catholics and Presbyterians have done so; both introduce so many preconceived formularies and previsions into their church system, that life and nature dwindle away.

15. Richard Hooker's opinion thereupon.

In our own church, it is strange that Richard Hooker's "Ecclesiastical Polity" is so little read and so much misrepresented as to be generally quoted against liberty. Hallam has done much to show the real scope and tendency of that grand and large-hearted work, in his essay or sketch of it in the "Constitutional History of England." And it is not strange, be it observed, that the man of all others who had the greatest respect for authority and precedent where they really apply, had also the tenderest regard for freedom of action wherever it is possible. Doubtless he saw that the two are coexistent in life, and never to be divorced from one another without injury to each. Penetrated

with the sanctity of law, he must have been keenly alive to the inviolable majesty of its counterpart. His nature would else have been self-discordant even to insanity. Richard Hooker defended the constitution of the Church of England, not as being necessary, but as being good, and agreeable to sound reason. The peace of the church was to be founded upon a demonstration of the reasonableness of our laws. His whole endeavour is to resolve the

"Conscience, not gratify the intellect; to show (as near as he could) what in this controversy the heart is to think, if it follow the light of sound and sincere judgment, without either cloud of prejudice or mist of passionate affection."

He protests against the notion of any fixed unalterable "discipline." A church is bound by its own laws, and "a law is the deed of the whole body politic." Thank God for those words, which are taken from his Preface, concerning which it may be said, that although many good people may well hesitate from the long labour of Richard Hooker's great book, yet this at least might and should be read by all, if only regarded as a work of art, for it is confessedly most admirable, not only for depth and clearness of argument, but for proportion, grace, gentleness, and wit. He alone, of all men, was strong enough for Rome on the one hand, and the wild Fanatics on the other. A Protestant but no Bibliolatrist, his respect for antiquity never diminished his love and reverence for his

own age; a lesson which the men of our own time seem disinclined to learn. With him it was a natural virtue, deeply planted in his simple unambitious nature. His only desire was to live peaceably and finish his great work. "My lord," he says in a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury (John Whitgift), "I shall never be able to finish what I have begun, unless I be removed into some quiet country parsonage, where I may see God's blessings spring out of my mother earth, and eat mine own bread in peace and privacy." What is stronger than a lion, what is sweeter than honey? The confession of a beautiful soul.

16. Conclusion. Question; one of expediency.

To sum up, then: we cannot, until some new light is thrown upon the subject, believe in any prescriptive definition of church-membership for elective purposes. The various proposals must stand each on its own merits. It is a question of policy. Once to admit the false plea of prescription is to give up what we have no right to part with, – our inalienable freedom to settle these things as we will. Such I conceive to be a correct, but doubtless very imperfect, statement of the feelings of those who wish to keep this great question open. My object in attempting this sketch is frankly to elicit the truth from the very few men now alive who are able to give it. That it should be fairly discussed is surely of vast importance to England, as well as to New Zealand; and, indeed, it may be taken as a sam-

ple of one of the practical difficulties which beset the path of the oldest and youngest State in this empire alike. As such it enters into this treatise.

17. Religious tendency in New Zealand.

Turning from this particular phase of the difficulty, not without a feeling of gladness, let us inquire what are the religious tendencies generally of such a colony as New Zealand. Here I shall give the result of my own observations at Canterbury, and that which I have gleaned of other settlements, as to what the mass of the colonists think, and compare them with the religious condition of the English at home. By this process I expect to find the real drift of the Protestant mind as it developes itself in a new country. For the moving power will be the same in both places, whatever special features of direction or circumstance may exist in the latter.

18. Religious condition of the colonist.

What, then, is the religious condition of the ordinary colonist? He finds himself struggling in a new country, not as he struggled in the old – in the midst of a town or village community trained and minded like himself. No; English, Irish, Welsh, and Scotch are flung together. What is the consequence? They compare thoughts, ways, actions, and words; they discuss systems; exchange customs; sift, weigh, and balance their arguments and positions one with another. From an old church catechism, down to some new method of planting potatoes, nothing escapes. It

is an atmosphere of vigorous speculation and improvement, but also of recklessness and wild audacity. For the common mind, when divorced from its old habits, even in small things, loses reverence, and begins to consider all it has and sees a matter of market test and barter. The advantage and the disadvantage, as usual, go together. The character, which is generally denounced as American, is really the British character as it becomes under certain conditions. We may see it in our own manufacturing towns, but never, perhaps, full blown. It is almost unnecessary to say what an effect the intermingling, interchange, and fusion of religious opinions freely between man and man must have in such a state of society.

It appears to me that the iron old Roman system alone can stand such a trial. Yet it is very possible to overrate the mischief. Let us remember that the majority of the migratory classes are without education, and indifferent to religious forms when they arrive in a new country. They have little to lose, save a certain traditional phraseology. Their great attachment was to the soil of the old land, and their observances and beliefs were generally the outgrowth of that local sympathy, and that being gone, the others fall off by degrees; and no great evil either if there is no better bond than this. "The gods," some one says, "may be looked for when the half gods depart."

The truth at present is, that there is no reli-

gious character in the British colonies: and those are especially indifferent who in the old country belonged to the Church of England. I remember, when the New Zealand census paper was sent round, asking a servant of mine how I was to fill up for him the space left under "religious denomination;" he hesitated and smiled. "Church of England?" said I, suggesting what he had been. "Whatever you like, sir," was the reply; "we always used to go to church in the old country, but here we be kind o' weaned of it." I certainly felt myself reproached for having brought a man and his wife with a large family into a wild and lonely place, where there was neither church nor clergyman, any more than doctor or shopkeeper. I afterwards endeavoured to anoint my conscience by reading a part of the church service on Sunday mornings. The man and his brother, and one or two of his children, came twice: they made no secret, however, of their opinion, that pig-hunting was a better way of spending a New Zealand Sunday. As for praying in a private house, only their respect for me prevented them from openly telling me that it was "no good." I may say that the family were very good church people in England; that they were in the habit of reading the Bible to themselves in the solitude of Banks' Peninsula, I know.

Often when at church in Lyttleton or Christchurch, I have been struck with the English character of the attendance at divine worship; I

mean, the pretence and hypocrisy of the whole thing. They go to church and take their dependants, because it is an "item" in the bill of respectability. There may be other inducements, but this is the main reason. How often has it occurred in England, to one who finds himself in a church crowded full of coats and bonnets, that God is not to be found in that way at all; that we are only cheating ourselves when we try to suppose so. Why, it is worse than ordinary heathen idolatry. I have seen God worshipped in a Buddist temple in China by striking a bell with a hammer, and by offerings of incense, oranges, and scraps of food saved from a scanty beggar's meal. I did not feel inclined to groan or laugh in spirit, but I have done so, to my sorrow, in many a Christian church.

19. Position of the church in England: Pro.

In England itself, the church which bears its name is in a perilous if not a declining condition, and that in spite of the most extraordinary exertions to the contrary. Let us put her case, for and against. We have had hundreds of new churches lately built; we have the best educated, best endowed, most religious clergy in the world; we have the alliance of the State; and the aristocracy is favourable to us, if that counts for much. We have church-wealth greater than all the rest of Europe put together; – we have the education of the body of the people actually in our hands. No body of men, however strong, dares openly

attack us without endangering themselves. Individuals who do so, are disgraced. We have enormous power and prestige. Our doctors and divines are unsurpassed. We have spread our communion into many lands, and at home there is really a general feeling among good people in our favour.

20. Contra.

Contra: – We shall find that our church has no living constitution. She is sunk into a State machine. Her union with the State is a positive injury to her, for her spiritual freedom is so depressed that every sect has her at a disadvantage. Her internal action is suspended. She is tolerated as a convenience, and allows herself so to be treated. The most opposite doctrines are preached within her pale. Often in the same church you may hear Rome in the morning, and Geneva in the evening. She exerts no power of discipline. Doctrine and discipline, confessed in one of her homilies to be two great marks of vitality, are not to be found. She is eaten up with dissent. How can such a church offer to found new Christian communities? Te sum up: behold a church in captivity wearing her chains, like Samson of old, blind among inhuman foes, yet waiting a deliverance. Weak, yet full of strength, – -poor, yet very rich, – little, yet very great. After all, the decline of the Church of England is more perceptible by the advance of other powers than by the presence of disorder within her.

21. Dissent an internal disorder.

This disorder we are accustomed to call by the name of Dissent; a word of little or no force to express the thing meant, which is not without its healthy symptom; for it argues strength and a power of life still remaining. Dissent is really nothing else than an effort of nature in the church to bring about a reformation and revival of religion in England; a thing which all good men most earnestly desire to see. That the movement has been carried to extravagant lengths, and has produced evil to its own supporters, is undeniable; but that it has done much to awaken and instruct the church, is also undeniable. Let us carefully distinguish between the passions of men and the position which they really occupy. Many passionate words have passed between Churchmen and Dissenters, but there is nothing in the position of the mass of Dissenters to render a reconciliation with the church impossible, or even unlikely, should a liberal measure of church reformation take place.

22. Rome an external foe.

How differently we stand with regard to Rome! Dissent is a domestic malady, which may be overcome by timely wisdom. Rome is a foreign enemy, to treat with whom is but madness, for her position is irreconcilable with ours. Of the Romish invasion, it is chiefly necessary to keep clearly in sight, that it is an invasion, and, apparently, a successful one. It is good to say more. We all know that Rome possesses peculiar means of

recommending herself both to rich and poor. And while we are well aware that she is as intolerant and unscrupulous as ever, we also know that she preserves Catholic truths and practices which are common to each of us, and some, it may be, which we have dropped rather too hastily.

23. Constructive Free-thinking.

There is another power rapidly rising up among us, which, as it is in a manner now undeveloped, seems to justify a longer notice. It may be termed Constructive Free-thinking. Its position will be found incompatible with ours. But even as the Romish, on the one hand, so this also, on the other, bears witness to truths which we forget, though they are ours to assert if we please. Perhaps, be it said with reverence, it is the will of God that these two rivals should flourish and encroach upon us, till we are willing to listen to reason; for both are useful, although they are antagonistic to us. As the saving remnant of Roman Catholicity is the evidence it bears to the miraculous part of the Christian scheme; to the direct hand of God; to authority: – so the other antagonistic power preserves, in their freshness, but misapplies, the counterpoints of these – nature, humanity, freedom. Unquestionably the church ought to embody all that is genuine of either. Now she does; but yet employs them not. Perhaps, by long confinement, she has partly lost the use of them.

It is to be observed, that the philosophical

free-thinking of the last century was of a purely negative cast. It simply denied the essential postulates of Christianity. Voltaire and his compeers, for instance, were simply anxious to overthrow what they persuaded themselves was a mass of cant without parallel. Lessing found the truth almost equally embodied in all great religions. Fourier, indeed, had a touch of the constructive spirit, but he spent it in discussion on the machinery of society and its outward workings (all, perhaps, that a free-thinking Frenchman is capable of). In England, we have seen a mistaken attempt to construct, end in the miserable failure of Socialism. It was premature; for, as yet, the elements only of the new system are being formed. But a work of positive construction has been going on among the Germans, and their hitherto despised followers in England. The creed is growing up. It will take a century, perhaps, to introduce it into the practice of men. What is it like? and in what does its strength consist?

24. Its spirit.

There was a spirit evoked at the time of the Reformation, which, like a buried Titan, had long been struggling to get up again into the "dear" world. It was not church reformation, but came along with it when Luther opened that door which has never since been shut. We see, on the one hand, more or less genuine church reformation effected in England, Scotland, Scandinavia, Holland, &c. But we see that other spirit, which represents the

wild strength of nature, at work in the wars and confusions of the time, in the Anabaptists, in the Fifth-monarchy-men; afterwards, in revolutions, and other changes of the kind. But these were only by-works. The real work is, to dethrone and destroy the great Christian ideas concerning God and the World, and the Soul of man, and to reconstruct from these ruins a new heaven and earth of its own. God is to be a tendency or affection of the soul. There is to be no such thing as revelation, and no good in prayer. All law is to be either natural or specially enacted by man. Immortality and the future state generally, is to be only a nice question for debate, but not to affect us at all deeply. The inventions of science, the wonders of art, the pomp, glory, and beauty of the world, the refinement of civilisation, ease, comfort, cultivation of body and intellect, enlightenment, the majesty of empire without its clogging chain, the sweets of liberty without its poison, balance of power, division of labour, fraternity, equal rights; all are to be claimed for the new Gospel, which tells us, – the earth is man's; eat, drink, and enjoy yourself while you can, for to-morrow you die. It is to be a great material faith, with a school of intellectual eclectic philosophers at its head. Then will the dim memories of antiquity revive to us, like some long-forgotten melody of childhood.

"Wo die Alten weilen,
Dass sie nicht erscheinen?

Die Kristallen weinen,
Von demantnen Saulen,
Fliessen Thranenquellen,
Tone klingen drein;
In den klaren hellen,
Schon durchsichtgen Wellen,
Bildet sich der Schein,
Der die Seelen ziehet,
Dem das Herz ergluhet.
Kommt ihr Geister alle
Zu der gold'nen Halle.
Hebt cms tiefen Dunkeln,
Haupter welche funkeln.
Macht der Herzen und der Geister
Die so durstig sind irn Sehnen
Mit den leuchtend schonen Thranen,
Allgewaltig euch zum Meister."

The old enchanted world will return at the call of modern Pagans.

This is now to be seen and felt in Germany, and is beginning in England and America. What is to stop it? What is to prevent Italy and Germany from dividing us and our colonies between them? If the Italians and Spaniards like to groan and tremble under the spiritual sway of Rome, let them; perhaps it is best for them. If the North of Germany is charmed with a new philosophical religion, be it so; let them enjoy themselves. They have a greater capacity for quiet, sensual, intellectual enjoyment, than any other nation. Look at them, sitting by hundreds in their coffee-gardens, listening to magnificent music, over pipes and beer, or playing at cards and chess, or thinking quietly to them-

selves: it is a goodly sight. Let them be whatever they can be; but do not let us have the worst part of them, their philosophy, planted in England. It is only by accident, or abuse, that either Germany or Italy can usurp England. Neither of these two systems can ever fairly represent us.

25. The Church of England our own.

We are, as a nation, religiously represented by the church, which has grown up among us and is called by our name; full of faults, perhaps, but not the less ours; let the church only assert her true position among us. To do this, common sense is alone wanted; no extraordinary management is necessary; but, alas! we look for it in vain. As to the church in the colonies, its position there will depend very much on its conduct here; but we may confidently anticipate, unless grievous mismanagement occurs, that our church system will take at least as firm a hold in our principal colonies, as it has done in the United States of America. Let us take a church-lesson from America.

26. What the churchmen in New Zealand want.

All that the churchmen in New Zealand want is, that their church shall be as free to manage its own affairs as the American is; they seek no privilege, no weight in the State, no superiority over any other religious body; they only claim to exercise that inalienable birthright of every church, self-government, in communion with the Church of England; they trust that their prayer

may not be rejected because of State arguments, which do not in the least apply to New Zealand, whatever may be their force in England. They ask through their Bishop, and shall they be refused? The indifference of the present generation of colonists in New Zealand shall not be handed down to the next; let our church only be herself, and the sons of her people will return to her; let her remain in her present unformed condition, they will become either Roman Catholics, or Atheists and Materialists.

27. Corporate powers, why demanded.

The reason why we wish that the church in New Zealand should be invested with the power of a corporation is very obvious; how can she hold property or found institutions without such powers?

It is surely only right, before we can expect persons belonging to the church to give or bequeath property, for the ordinary purposes of charity, or with the particular design of forming subordinate institutions, to take every possible care that what they give, or bequeath, is applied to the purposes which they intend; or, should this be impossible, to other religious purposes nearly representing their views.

The churches of Christendom, by endeavouring to make church property an inviolable trust, also rendered the acquisition of property by the church, or by bodies connected with it, far more easy. The state of the church of New Zealand need not be an exception to the general rule; unendowed as she is, except in one or two parti-

cular instances, there is no reason why she should continue so; nevertheless, it is not likely that her condition in this respect can become materially changed, until she is placed upon a solid legal foundation, that she may the better receive, guard, and distribute the alms of such of her members as choose to call upon her to exercise that great Christian trust.

28. Christian benefaction.

The munificent spirit of benefaction to the poor, which has displayed itself in so many Christian countries, and in none so much as in our dear native land of England, is not, as many people suppose, either dead or even asleep; it has, indeed, in many instances, been abused, as the suits which we hear of continually connected with great trust estates, and the apathy of our universities in many of their richest colleges, may teach us. But this is not the worst evil; bad as this is, the Christian spirit of giving, has been tampered with in a more dangerous manner; it has been, and it is, debauched by our system of subscriptions, and contributions of that kind. As the noblest natures, after being affronted for years, come to lose all sense of honour, so, too, the most charitable dispositions, under the continual application of the scourge of small subscriptions, become apathetic and indifferent. It is as if the sum of their efforts had been spent in small change. There is no longer that reverence there used to be, for the resignation of means on a great scale, in order to effect some great end; the spring is taken out of the year; we not only

lose, we even begin to despise, the glorious ambition of giving up all, for the honour of God, or the good of our country: – yet the spirit still exists which prompts to noble sacrifice, but it wants evocation, it wants direction – above all, it wants discipline. In a new country, it is never likely to be deficient, for the class of feelings to which it belongs are generally most vigorous after a great change has stirred the heart of man, and when a great necessity prompts him to action.

29. The true source of endowment.

If the church in New Zealand placed in a favourable position for doing its duty in this respect, the means would not long be wanting. If she once opened her doors to the gifts of the people; if she declared herself the guardian of the goods of the poor; if she had the power of establishing within herself divers institutions for purposes of Christian education, or the relief of want, or spiritual consolation and comfort to the sick and afflicted; and if, further, these institutions could be so maintained, as not to lose the individuality of their original design, while, at the same time, each was restrained to its proper place, object, and position, part of that great institution in which it existed; – were this done, offer me, on the one hand, more than eastern treasures in the hands of inactive or unscrupulous bigots; offer me the richest church, with the most magnificent appendages, and the largest securities; – if that church have lost its means of progress and life from those institutions, and the vigorous use

of those riches; – I should not for one moment hesitate to prefer such a church as that of New Zealand might become, girt for the contest; although she starts, as she confessedly does, unendowed, and to a great extent unsupported. "Magnas inter opes inops," is a common complaint, and it might be placed in the mouth of the Church of England at this moment. When the soul recedes from its tabernacle, and leaves only its machinery behind it, we know what the consequence must be.

30. Shall the State manage church trusts?

Now, as regards church property, and endowments for various purposes, a question arises, which is debated with some amount of acrimony, and no little ingenuity on either side. Ought not, it is said on one side, these endowments, and that property to be placed entirely at the disposal of the State? If she consents to act as guardian, what can you desire more? If she engages that the purposes for which certain sums have been given, shall be carried out according to the literal tenor of the instructions which have accompanied them, is it necessary to constitute a special guardian in the person of the church? And should the church take a corporate form, is it not extremely probable, looking to examples before our eyes in England, that bequests made, and institutions founded, will be more likely to be misapplied and perverted, by the operation of party feeling, or by the gradual invasion of apathy, and thus the original intention become more liable to be defeated,

and the guarantee less secure, than would have been the case if the State, which is the common mother of all her children, the common guardian of all interests, the ultimate referee of all disputes, had in the first instance been trusted?

31. Claim of the State criticised.

It is not for me to attempt to decide upon the validity or the insufficiency of these arguments. I shall merely put the case as it seems to those who argue on the other side, and leave it for my readers to work out the problem as best they can in their own minds. Is it found, they ask, that church property placed in the hands of the State, is always administered with such extreme rectitude of intention and integrity of management? Has it not been the object of almost every State gradually to draw to itself, and by fatal degrees to absorb, the property thus credulously entrusted to it? Is not the promise of protection a vain guarantee where the protectors and guardians may belong to a rival religion? And who dares talk of impartiality, or the absence of factious contest of the basest and most violent description, in the very bosom of the greatest States, and connected with what might have seemed to have most demanded fairness, and a scrupulous attention to foregoing obligations? But had the evidence of past ages, and the experience of past countries, been as clear in favour of the other side as it is decidedly against them, can we forget that the body of the people in the countries where we are urged to make

this experiment are either secretly disaffected or openly opposed to the interests of our church, and it may be to those of any religious establishment whatever?

32. Imperium in imperio.

Such are some of the arguments on either side which present themselves almost at the first glance, when we are called upon to say whether the religious establishment which it is proposed to found should be placed altogether in the hands of the people of the country, so as to resemble a mere bureau, with a bishop at its head as working secretary; or whether it ought not far rather to claim a separate and a thoroughly independent existence, to make its own laws, to guard its own property, to administer its own institutions, and to govern its own members. Is not this, however, it may be objected, an imperium in imperio such as could never be safely tolerated in any free State? Is not this, in fact, the Romish system in disguise? Far otherwise, if we apprehend it rightly. By independent institutions we seek not to invade or dispute the high plenary jurisdiction of the State. We have no desire to undermine the power of the State over all and any of her creatures. We only protest for and seek to maintain that amount of independence for the great Institution with which we are concerned as may enable her to live and discharge her functions duly. That is our only care. The front of our offence, magnified to its greatest proportions, is no more than the very same feel-

ing which prompts a citizen to resist any interference of the State with his own domestic affairs.

33. Mediaeval plan misapplied.

For the sake of all those concerned, so many souls now in the wilderness, it is of vast importance that men of power and thought should make up their minds and take their place either on one side or the other of this great question. It is not to be doubted, indeed, of the mediaeval plan, that the church be placed in the hands of the nation, and that the nation undertake to see that justice be done her, – it is not to be doubted that a vast array of precedent can be quoted in favour of that system; but let it be remembered, that the principal feature of that ancient arrangement is very often entirely overlooked by those who would urge it upon our attention as a precedent why the church should belong to the State. Their view is one-sided, and therefore altogether partial to their own preconceived opinion; for if in the middle ages the church belonged to the State, it is no less true, as a general proposition, that the State belonged to the church. The truth is, that that great alliance was contracted upon terms entirely fair and honourable to each. Were such a copy of it to be taken, as some misguided persons suggest, it would imply disadvantage, inferiority, and loss – I need not say on which side. Granted, that if such a union could be truly and justly effected, the most perfect state of things would ensue. Let it be granted, also,

that since it cannot be effected, it remains for the church to fall back upon her old position; to submit herself, as in duty bound, so far as justice demands, to the laws of the State, but (as justice no less demands) to hold her own, to maintain her traditions, and preserve her liberty.

34. The claim of right understated.

Perhaps the only matter of regret, connected with the church principles which the Bishop of New Zealand has published, is that he has somewhat disparaged and underrated the rights and claims of the church which he has the honour to command. How dares he ask the church in New Zealand formally to commit and pledge itself to the doctrines and the ritual of the Church of England, and to the English version of the Bible? How dares he assume that the church can for a moment part with the power of making its own laws? "Infelix, O semper, oves, pecus!" At a time when more than any other we require the spirit of Anselm, are we doomed to catch the soft tones and the complimentary address of a mere courtier! And is the church to be allowed only to frame by-laws for itself? And is it to be docked and shorn of its greatest, its most inestimable and most inalienable privilege of making its own arrangements, provided there be nothing therein contained contrary to the sound health and welfare of the State?

35. Necessity of plain speaking.

If a church constitution be granted to New Zealand by those in England who arrogate to themselves the power

of granting such a dispensation in favour of their fellow-subjects, – if it be granted, I say, in anything like such a spirit as the Bishop is likely to find in a certain quarter, what are the consequences likely to be?

"Hic alienus oves custos bis mulget in hora, Et succus pecori, et lac subducitur agnis."

It will drain instead of feeding life.

Were a constitution to be given of such a kind as may reasonably be expected in answer to prayers of too humble a description preferred to the footstool of royal and prelatic indifference, there is much reason to fear that it will be born dead. Should it ever arrive in New Zealand, it will always be associated, in the mind of the people, with a sacrifice of those immunities and sacred rights which never can be bartered away to advantage, whatever the pretended equivalent may be, but which, in the present instance, have been put aside as if they had no real existence, in order to suggest a favourable whisper, in order to secure an impotent decree. In that case a grand opportunity will have been lost. Indifference will have been increased, dissent extended, and the attachment of honourable and right-minded men cooled down; and all to gain – what? To gain that which, if a spirit of justice and truth exists in the authorities of the Court of England, can never be refused by them; but which, if they are what many persons affirm them to be, no amount of subserviency and dust-kissing can purchase.

The last intelligence is, that the Bishop is about to take the earliest opportunity of repairing to England, for the purpose of pressing forward in person the work which he has in hand. That his way may be prospered, and that he may speedily appear to do his best for the church committed to his care, is my sincere prayer; and may he also, I cannot forbear to add, take counsel, not forgetting to seek the oracle of God in prayer, even as to the inexpediency, in a worldly point of view, of understating just demands, without, perhaps, sufficiently reflecting that the men with whom he will have to do are, many of them, enough disposed already, without any special incitation from the encouragement which would be afforded to them by lowering the banner of the church in their presence, to pare down her rights to the very quick. If so, let him remember that the mantle of Elijah, and the power of a greater than Elijah, descends not in vain on every bishop – let him repair his mistake, if he has made one, by asserting what he has hitherto omitted – let him not sacrifice justice, a thing he never did before, and if justice is refused, let him shake the dust from his feet and depart – secure, at least, of having borne a faithful testimony.

"Alis ton tethnikoton." [Greek] We have had enough to do with the dead. It is time to live, and if the new life (that is all) which we seek for is refused, let us trust to the healing power of nature and her Master. "Arise, and let us go hence."

CHAPTER XIX. SOCIETY AND ITS INSTITUTIONS.

CHAPTER XIX.

SOCIETY AND ITS INSTITUTIONS.

1. Retrospect.

THE first chapters of this treatise contained thoughts and speculations on what may very well be called the material part of the subject before us; The way in which New Zealand has been peopled; the prospects which that country holds out to the migratory classes in England; its present trade and its capabilities have led me to call the reader's attention to certain principles and certain conclusions; some of general and some of restricted and particular application.

In the reverie suggested by the text "the Maories," I quitted that ground, to enter upon a region of thought which is, in some degree, common to each of the two great topics into which all my reflections resolve themselves.

It was only in "the constitution," and " the church" that I first stepped into the new world – I mean into the second topic – "the formation and development of a new community." Politics proper, and Political Religion, are but antechambers, after all, or rather passage-chambers, connecting individual life in the household with

that common civil life of men which includes all classes and all institutions, "a State."

2. Common life of men.

This, too, has, an individuality, if the State be a community, in any real sense of that word; for it presents an individual social idea of some kind or other. Indeed, all life which it is possible for men to contemplate, is compounded of singulars; forms itself into singulars; and is resolved again into singulars. Here it may be objected, "you are mistaking a common figure of speech for an actual analogy," for what is "the life of a community," but an ordinary figure of speech, which has not the slightest real connection with "the organised existence of a living creature?"

Now I contend that there is an analogy of law; and that it is to a conviction of this fact that we owe that phrase "the life of men," as members of one commonwealth.

Societies of men are spoken of as living beings, because men observed not only a likeness, but the same powers at work in both. In the processes by which atoms and particles are collected round a seed, and in the process by which rational creatures collect round an idea, men rightly discern the same congregating power (the power of life) at work on different matter, and at a different stage.

In the one case, inorganic matter is collected round a certain centre, whereby it is empowered, organised, and shaped, till the whole results in a living form. In the other, organised intellectual

creatures are gathered round some practical thought (idea), whereby they are moulded into a society. In this case the living system answers to the living form of the other.

As to the reality of national life, it is enough to say that the Almighty rewards and punishes nations as well as persons.

But I pause, alarmed at my own temerity. . . We want a revelation concerning life. Shall I add that we have one, if we knew where to look for it?

Still this chapter may be regarded as an essay on Life and Growth in their relation to Society.

3. Nature works in developing society.

"Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?" Can we, by any knowledge of our own, by any forethought, or happy accident, attain to that power which Nature has reserved for herself? Let us survey her works; contemplate, and try to weigh them out; and then confess that our understanding can never reach to the mystery of her divine process. Two of our greatest men, whose hands were laid upon the forehead of the present generation, laboured diligently to search into that secret in its reference to the works of men. Coleridge, in his Essays on Shakspeare, tells us plainly that the great poet worked, as Nature herself worked, unconsciously, but not less surely. Goethe, as we may read in the diary of his journey through Italy, sought among the monuments of art, which constitute the mate-

rial remains of a mighty nation, to discover the vestiges of their process. Whether, in the visions of the poet and the seer, their souls were ever initiated into an acquaintance with the true forms of life; whether it is possible for the spirit of men, in its present trammels, to rise to the height of such a survey; whether they might or could communicate it, – is quite beyond our speculation. They remained in a great measure silent, in the days of their age, concerning one of the chiefest desires of their youth.

4. Working not for the eye, nor to the calculation.

A complete work is designed, and at length concluded; and when the nor to the cai- highest beauty is attained and possibility is exhausted, the result is not a matter of exhibition. What peerless shapes of beauty exist unnoticed by man! How little of all that is given is apprehended, or enjoyed, even in the commonest fashion! What a sermon might be preached on the text, "Not as the world giveth, give I unto you"? the meaning of "world" here being not so much "evil and corrupt generation," as men in their ordinary dealings one with another. Can any one reflect, without a feeling of sadness, on the great goodness and forethought of Nature, and the thoughtlessness with which we waste her precious gifts? With what a prodigally bounteous hand has she up-raised the earth, and poured forth the seas around it, preparing everything with much pain, and by slow degrees, to suit the purposes which she has in hand? Men calculate in

their gifts, for they never can altogether get rid of the thoughts of indebtedness, but whatever angel was master of the works when England was furnished forth with inexhaustible beds of coal, had something more to think of than merely supplying the market. Is it not a most touching sight to see the fleet of herring-boats going forth to meet the great shoal which is appointed by a yearly miracle to come into their nets, and whose coming can be foretold almost to an hour? Let Behemoth revel unthinkingly (for he is not designed to think), in the tall grass of the meadow, and the abundant reeds of the river. We will revel also, but it shall be with tears of gratitude in our eyes when we contemplate the awful and mysterious sacrament of which we all continually partake.

5. Works by man.

Then if we cast our eyes upon the works and devices of man, we see here the hand of the original Artificer only more deeply engaged. It is, indeed, man who works,

"Yet nature is made better by no mean,
But nature makes that mean; so o'er that art,
Which you say adds to nature, is an art
Which nature makes. You see we marry
A gentler scion to the wildest stock:
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
By bud of nobler race: this is an art
Which does mend nature, change it rather, but
The art itself is nature."

I know that it is a favourite dogma of Coleridge to insist upon the infinite difference be-

tween what he calls "nature," and "the hand of God in the world," which last refers to all that we conceive to be the diviner part of man. He is led occasionally into strong and even vehement statements on this head, by his desire (a desire which continually manifests itself in his greatest works) to combat, and, if possible, overthrow what he was persuaded was the principal error of his generation – an ignorance, to wit, or rather a forgetfulness, of the bounds which exist between our intellectual and our strictly rational elements. It was the hobby, if I may so speak, of that inspired man to ride down the presumptuous arrogance of those who attempted to bring everything to the test of their own narrow wit. It was a matter of religion with Coleridge to keep the eyes of men open to those great Facts, and that Existence, which they are continually misapprehending, just as those who use glasses to preserve their eyes, sometimes speak as if they believed in the glass more than the eye. Coleridge, however, never meant to confine the workings of nature within any special bounds, and to say "here nature ends." His reasoning was all to the end that the intuitive power might be redeemed, not that the natural should be sold into slavery. Men fall from the mistake of one extreme into the other. Let us endeavour to uphold and to recognise each phase of existence, without destroying the kingdom to which they all belong. When Jesus says to his disciples, "Ye are the salt of the earth," what does He mean? Is it

merely an expression of his confidence in the excellence of the men to whom He was speaking; or, perhaps, to indicate that they were, above all others, marked out to aid in his plan? I think not. He meant to say, that the preservation of the world, in freshness and sweetness of life, depends on its men. It is only another way of stating that the law was made for man, not man for the law. In short, that all outward forms, laws, and constitution proceeding from within man – from that internal source, his living will – whenever they become separated from their origin, very soon corrupt, or simply lapse and melt away. "Have, therefore, salt within yourselves;" remember where alone your real strength lies. It is an assertion of the true position of humanity in its superiority to law of the second class (law which man can make and unmake), which is his servant: and its dependence on "the Word" – the highest law – the life within – those agrapta nomima [Greek], in short, upon recognising and obeying which humanity depends. It is also a grand political maxim: for His words are the best guides in politics, as well as in moral and religious duty.

6. Institutions how related to the common life.

The life of every community is contained in itself. It is not external, nor can it be added from without. It cannot be given by another nation, for it depends altogether upon a gift of life from God, for life is not a matter of communication between equals. They may, indeed, lay the

groundwork of life for one another; they may make each other's cradles, but they can do no more. Life is the gift of Him who has put the law of life within us.

This, perhaps, has not been sufficiently felt by those who construct codes, invent institutions, and make model machines to carry society from one place to another. Any institution, in order to act successfully, must be, so to speak, the natural growth of the soil whereon it maintains and spreads itself. Foreign institutions are like exotics; foreign constitutions are like ordinary articles of import and export – they are only matters of present occasion, they express no life, and are only intended to last till those who buy them either break them, or can get a better thing.

No persons have ever been so much misunderstood as the great lawgivers of the world. Their laws stood, and became the representatives of national life, not because they were in themselves extraordinarily excellent. Strictly speaking, they were not inventions, they were begotten on the nation, not given to it. Those men had searched for, and at length penetrated, the very essence of all that their fellow-countrymen felt to be truest, and dearest, and best. Hence the law, when it came forth, was living, and at once recognised as the true child of the people, so that they might figuratively say of it, "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulders."

Such masterpieces of legislation were, in each

instance, veritable gospels: they explained a want, and they supplied a remedy.

Now the obstacle which besets the labours of the legislator, when this is not the case, is, that overlooking altogether, or unable to understand, the real meaning of institutions in their connection with society, he falls to certain material forms. This is a species of idolatry which has surprised many of the greatest minds both in action and in literature.

7. Legislative cacoethes.

Thus they tell us, at one time, with the utmost nicety and exactness, how the senate in the model nation is to be composed; what offices are to be the principal repositaries of power, and what are to be the checks against its abuse; who are to be electors, and how they are to give their votes, whether secretly, by putting beans in a box, or openly, by holding the right hand up; whether foreigners shall be allowed to visit the chosen people, and if they, on their part, may undertake journeys and voyages, even to distant countries. May they meddle with merchandise, and traffic except with one another? and if they may, on what conditions, down to the minutest stipulations, with oaths to be taken accordingly; or as to the mission of ambassadors – how they shall be chosen, so as best to strike those nations to whom they are sent with a sovereign respect, or even awe of the great republic; being men, for the most part, past the flower of their age; the face tanned, long bearded, the cloak hanging carelessly about them,

yet, withal, of a very strict carriage, and by no means given to the levities and slips of youth. Or further, shall the region wherein the republic is to be planted be rich and fertile, or poor and barren? is it to be Sybaris or Sparta? Suppose it to produce enough to satisfy the common wants of life, ought we, they will inquire, to allow of any luxuries besides? and if so, shall we bring them in from other countries, or shall we not rather, by continued perseverance, by subtle inventions and great art, enhance our naturally poor condition, and improve our meagre soil, till we can produce the choicest fruits of all regions and all latitudes in an island of not more than two days' journey? May not the climate itself be improved by the quick-witted researches of its inhabitants? May we not have great glass promenades, and arcades, so constructed as entirely to shelter us when we perambulate? May we not, to go a step further, by immense labour and such an increased skill in Dynamics as long study in the best colleges alone can give – may we not contrive to suspend, between earth and heaven, some great mirror or burning-glass, curiously framed, so as to collect or disperse the rays of the sun at our pleasure, or, if necessary, avert them altogether? The said machine to be worked by cords and pulleys of excellent contrivance, and unsurpassable manufacture; so that, when we want rain, it may be hoisted aslant, or even removed altogether. May not the model nation compel the clouds to obey their bidding, so far,

at least, as to discharge rain in such places and proportions as may best suit its agricultural needs? – regulating, perhaps, the size of the drops, the average of which may be taken and secured by mathematical calculation. Shall hailstones be allowed to descend? Thunder and lightning may serve, perhaps, to amuse children, or to repel and discomfit a hostile invasion too strong for ordinary artillery. May our republic engage in war? or shall it not rather be purposely encouraged, for the purpose of hardening the youth, who shall to that end be led forth against their neighbours, at stated periods, as every third or every seventh year? Or as to the office of the Herald; shall it be elective, or hereditary, and with what ceremonies shall he come between two hostile armies to enter into engagements for peace? Shall he wear a cloak or a coat; a cap, a hat, or a helmet? Shall he wear armour, or shall he be girt with an ephod to denote his peaceful priestly character?

Again, should a town be taken by storm of direct onslaught, or otherwise? as by a wall and ditch of circumvallation, shutting out supplies until the inhabitants are forced to surrender, by famine and disease? In such a case, even if it be allowed to put all the men to death, yet it may be judged merciful and philosophical to spare women and children; and then comes in another weighty matter: what shall be done with them?

After that, they will dilate upon the knottier business of how shall the hair be worn, long or short – in curls, or straight-combed? Shall there

be gymnasia for youths, and who shall attend there to keep order? Shall such arts as the painter's, sculptor's, and decorator's, be allowed? Shall they be encouraged? Shall malefactors be punished with death or imprisonment, or only hard labour? Shall tailors, dancers, and actors exercise the franchise?

I assert, then, that such philosophers, from Plato down to Bentham, were either diseased in their minds; or, that they take occasion to give the reader a hint here and there that they are not thoroughly in earnest. Plato's book, for instance, is a masque; a sly, grave, (and, in places, tedious,) satire upon the hopes and expectations of men. This interpretation alone can clear such treatises as his from the utter absurdity which must for ever beset such unreadable phantasies as Harrington's "Oceana."

Take again such a performance as Cabet's "Icarie;" it is, both in object and method, utterly valueless, except as a pure negative, to show the practical statesman what he ought to avoid.

8. Positive elements of national life – great men.

Let us, then, proceed to examine, taking this as the negative, wherein consists the positive development of a nation. What should we principally seek to obtain, and how should we seek it? What are the elements, positive of national existence? First, then, it is the object of every State to secure the services of those great men, whom the Almighty sends into the world from time to time, to originate, to confirm, to change, or to overthrow.

"Such as God has solemnly elected,
With gifts and graces eminently adorned,
To some great work, His glory
And people's safety."

Whether they be statesmen proper; legislators, such as Numa; men of action, as Mirabeau; or, warriors, as Napoleon; or combining more characters than one, as Caesar; or poets, sent to refresh the blood of the world, whether poets proper, speaking in song –

"Speaking of the dancing stars;
Speaking of the daedal earth;
And of heaven, and the giant wars,
And love, and death, and birth;"

or prose writers, both imaginative and reflective.

Or, again, inventors and discoverers, for though there is an essential difference between the two, yet they seem to resemble one another in the structure of their mind and in the consequences to which they give birth. Such as were the inventor of the steam engine, and the discoverer of America, of whom it is hard to say which has enlarged the world the most. Artists, again, by which we mean those who search out and express to the people the true forms of beauty, in various shapes, and under different conditions, as sculptors or painters, as musicians, or lastly, as orators and actors. For these last, although the least of their order, must not be forgotten, inasmuch as they too educate a nation, teaching it how to aspire, by lively impersonations and the forcible

expression of great thoughts. And they deserve the more to be remembered, because their works are in themselves of short duration.

"Hier stirbt der Zauber mit dem Kunstler ab,
Und wie der Klang verhallet in dem Ohr,
Verrauseht des Augenblicks gesehwinde Schopfung,
Und ihren Ruhm bewahrt kein dauernd Werk."

Again, teachers proper, than whom no class has been more degraded, though none are so useful. Some there are, doubtless, sent into the world with the special faculty of instructing and teaching the young, and since the work of all great men is to educate in some way or other, those deserve to be considered such, who have a special power for common, ordinary instruction.

Lastly, men who being born to great possessions, are endowed with souls accordingly, friends of the poor, given to hospitality, models of courtesy, great gentlemen, well ordering great estates.

These are, perhaps, the principal moulds into which good and generous souls are cast. As for a great man in any of the so-called professions, this is merely an accidental circumstance. And yet surely we ought not to forget such souls as are particularly given to religious reveries and meditations (great saints), for these, even though they work not directly (as Antony), yet exercise a vast regenerative influence upon society. They stand continually with censers before the Highest; yet sometimes they are actively engaged (as Benedict). We mark these various gifts by the common word "genius."

9. How secure their services.

The question then is, what can be done in a State by all means to bring such men into their proper place, and so to benefit both ourselves and them; to benefit them, by enabling them to fulfil their work under favourable conditions, and ourselves, by the advantage we are sure to draw from their labours among us. How melancholy a thought it is, that there are men in England following the plough or making bricks – in short, engaged in some kind of mechanical drudgery or otherwise – who possess the souls of statesmen, artists, and poets; and might have been such, to our infinite benefit, had they found a helping hand, or even received the ordinary rudiments of education. What waste, and what injustice there is here! for, meanwhile, observe that, in default of these our true men, we are obliged to put up with every description of mediocrity, and may think ourselves only too lucky, if we can escape from counterfeits and hypocrites of the worst description. The remedy for this disease – this wasting disorder – is to put the education of the people upon a proper footing.

10. Education.

Education may be extended in more ways than one, and the question is, not so much to decide which is the best way to the exclusion of others, as to secure them all, if possible, well knowing that they are applicable to different cases, that one method will succeed where another fails, and one inducement prevail where another falls short. First, then, it is the bounden

duty, no less than the policy of every State, to see that there be schools established for the common people, both in town and country, to provide suitable buildings, and at convenient distances; to offer such wages and rewards to those who engage in the work of teaching, as may make that profession one of the most honourable and lucrative in the country. It cannot be denied that education, mere common education, stands to us very much where the forms of religion stood to our ancestors. If, therefore, it was held noble amongst them to found and endow the most magnificent institutions, and to build the most wonderful and sublime temples for worship, I see not why our schools, even where the children of the commonest poor meet together to be taught, should not be, not merely substantial and commodious, but even magnificent.

Let us, again, hold out rewards to those who excel. If a child evinces more than ordinary ability or application, let him be forwarded from one school to another, and be assisted, without stint or parsimony, to acquire knowledge, and to fit himself for a higher place in life than he would otherwise have occupied.

11. Obstacle of civil odium.

It is often objected that, in our state of society in England, men who have risen from the ranks are the most unhappy of any, for they feel the disproportion of fortune more keenly, and they acquire tastes and affections which it is impossible to gratify.

– They become, therefore, miserable, and a distress rather than a glory to their friends and helpers. Suppose this were universally true, which it certainly is not, what does it prove? That the country is in an unhealthy state. It proves that there exists a barrier between certain classes of society (to speak roughly) which cannot be surmounted, except in very extraordinary cases indeed. That such exists, the more is the shame and the pity: to say nothing of the incalculable loss and waste to society – it is a distinct source of disaffection which may any day lead to a catastrophe, such as those who are most concerned in maintaining the present system may well shudder to contemplate. It is, however, a happy exception in new countries, and in new societies, that a practical freedom exists, whereas the old, for the most part, only retain the forms of liberty. Our common people look to America with longing, very chiefly on this account; – because society there is not hampered with so tight a uniform.

12. Obstacle of bigotry.

Again, in this country, religious disputes and prejudices are an enormous obstacle to anything like national education. This difficulty presents itself to a certain extent everywhere, and it seems really that the only manner in which it can be overcome is to leave the forms of religion to those whom they chiefly concern – that is, to the ministers of the various congregations. If this were done, we should very soon find that the objections which now exist to

such a plan would melt away before its practice, and the probable result would be that we should obtain, not only a better informed, and better conducted, but a more religious population. I defy any one to show why the catechism should be taught in a national school any more than the dinner should be eaten there. It would seem ridiculous to oblige each child to bring his dinner in a handkerchief, in order that all may eat it together in the presence of the master. Any one would say, No! let them eat their meals at home. Religion, in truth, spoken of in the highest sense of the word, clings for support to the family hearth. To make it a matter of school discipline is to lower it in the eyes of the very children whom we seek to benefit. There may be, and there probably will be, a certain amount of fanatical opposition to any large and comprehensive scheme of national education; but whether it exists or not is no real argument for indifference or delay in satisfying the craving for education, wherever it exists. Anticipating a formidable opposition, we ought not to be deterred thereby from doing our duty. A little salutary decision and force of character in the principal statesmen of our country would soon reduce this bugbear to its proper proportions.

13. Schools.

There might be, and there ought to be, different schools established for different ages, different attainments, and different branches of learning. And if reading, writing, and arithmetic are taken as the lowest standard of common

education, ought we not to have establishments in every Hundred, if possible, but at least in every County, and every great town, where those who wish to go further may find their desire satisfied? Lastly, grammar schools may be made more applicable to the wants and numbers of our population than they are at present. – Of Universities it is useless to say anything, since we seem to have lost the very idea which the word was intended to convey.

Ascending from the ordinary routine of the commonest education, it becomes very important that history, mathematics, and music should be taught in every country as widely as possible. I say it becomes so, whatever it may have been formerly. Whether this will ever be carried out, as it might be and ought to be, in England is very doubtful, inasmuch as we are eaten up with conventionalities to such a degree that people in the best circles are found to ask, "Where is the good of music to a working man?" The answer is, "Where is the good of comfort, civilisation and ease?" Everything which enlarges the sphere of humanity is of use even to the individual, and these very people would have no objection to admit that even magnificence and elegance, and what we call "taste" have their uses, and no slight ones either.

14. Other means of education.

Again, a country may be educated by its political condition. I am bold enough to affirm that a system of taxation, or a system of representation, apart from

their immediate uses, may be rendered highly instrumental in the great end of government, which is to educate the people. It is impossible to overvalue the advantages which its political constitution has conferred upon the British nation in this respect. It is by far the most valuable kind of education, perhaps the only genuine kind, which we have ever received. It is disgusting to hear complaints made against popular assemblies, and public meetings, where our policy is freely debated, on the ground that they are meetings tumultuous and ill-managed. Institutions of this kind are not only the safety-valve of the commonwealth, they are also a great means of teaching the people, by making them think and talk about their common interests. Another method by which education may grow to be respected and greatly desired by any community is to make it understood that the employments and honours of the State are to belong to those who greatly excel, while those who set themselves apart, and refuse to learn, shall not be trusted, no, not even with a vote. Make ignorance and exclusiveness discreditable.

Yet another way of extending the desire of knowledge, and instilling honourable ambition, is, to let the people feel that everything connected with them as a body is substantially solid, grand, and beautiful. A great drama, a poem, a temple, a musical composition, a statue, and far more, a noble institution, is a direct means of cultivating and raising the popular mind. I suppose that

the effect of a single song of Burns is almost incalculable, for there is in the aspect or contemplation of anything which is in itself very great, very good, or even very appropriate, something which humanises rude men.

Yet all these are but means, and here only introduced to show how much may be done in various ways, to raise up, or rather to retain great and good men for the national service. Much that is deemed impracticable in England, may yet be introduced with perfect success in a new country.

15. Second element – race.

Secondly. Race is one of the chiefest elements of national greatness which can be conceived, for we all know that there is no making a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Educate the Negro, the Esquimaux, or even the Calmuc, to the highest degree, you never can make him the equal of the Englishman. In this respect the British colonies have been highly favoured. They have been peopled from some of the best races which the world contains.

16. Third element – natural advantages of position, &c.

Thirdly. It cannot be denied that position on the earth is an elementary ingredient in greatness. If we follow the footsteps of civilisation from its earliest dawn up to the present day, we shall see how carefully it has avoided some countries, while it has flourished in others at no great distance from them. There was no particular reason why the inhabitants on the banks of the Danube were passed by, while Greece was

selected to become the home of intelligence and the arts. There is no particular reason, but that of position, for in old times the races greatly resembled each other.

Again, there is no reason why Illyria has never made a figure in the history of the world, except that it was out of the way; out of the direct track and current of progress. We see this more plainly when we consider the vast regions which are never likely to be even peopled by man. How much of the earth's surface is rendered uninhabitable from extreme heat or cold! In some places, the ocean receding has left a deposit of sand, which is continually enlarging itself. In others, savage mountains and wild table-lands, exposed to every vicissitude of weather, forbid the very presence, or, at any rate, greatly cramp the energies of man. Nor has he succeeded in keeping possession of countries which were formerly under his dominion. What has become of the ancient glory of Egypt? What has become of the ancient Sicily? As we glide along the river, as we wander through the pathless solitude of barren sand, we suddenly come upon the remains of some wonderful temple, some stately shrine, far surpassing the dreams of modern days, perhaps we even see the very stone in the act of being quarried, abandoned with the mark of the chisel upon it, when some sudden destruction drove away an ancient nation from the haunts of its greatness. What are the Cyclopean remains, which we cannot sufficiently wonder at, in

Etruria; in Corcyra; at Nurtiung; or at Stonehenge; and elsewhere in our own country? In the tangled wilds of America, the remains of lordly cities have been overgrown with the forest. The flowering trees, and the wild waving grass of a tropical vegetation, conceal, and, as it were, bury, a former glory. When these are with difficulty removed, we are astonished at the size, the beauty, and the perfect completion which the great sepulchre of houses still retains. Spanish writers, eye-witnesses of the conquests of Pizarro and his comrades, give us descriptions of roads, such as they declare that the whole power of their invincible Emperor, Charles V., the greatest sovereign of his time, would have been quite unable to produce. Thus man has lost, during the struggle of the world, at least as much as he has gained, and it may be truly said, that that which remains untouched or unimproved is far greater than both together. Whether, indeed, he may not reconquer and reclaim much that he has in a great measure abandoned remains to be seen. It is not improbable that he will. It is likely enough that the industry and enterprise of the English and Americans will restore Central America and Egypt to something like their former greatness, and to an importance they never possessed before. But what vast countries in South America, in Africa – what vast islands, both in the East and West, – -remain unoccupied, or worse, in the hands of barbarians, or tilled by slaves! Is the world ever destined to behold a

great tropical civilisation? What is Cuba? What is Hayti? What are the islands of the great East? Is not Java itself (the finest of them all) degraded by the Dutch into a mere estate, from whence they may wring as many millions as possible, without regard to the interest of the people? For at Batavia, the only approach – for boats alone – is by a narrow channel, scarcely rendered secure by piles of rotting wood on each side, and stones badly put together; a place where the energy of the Americans would long ago have made a landing-place, where large merchantmen might come alongside, to take in or discharge cargo.

What should we say even of India, a country, governed, indeed, not without consideration for its own benefit as well as for ours, yet certainly neglected most shamefully, by a company of managers, whose short-sighted cupidity will not allow them to improve their trust, although the revenue might be easily doubled during the lifetime of the present generation?

The mismanagement, or the neglect of generations, may postpone the advance of mankind, but they never can absolutely take away from a country the advantages which nature gives it, which are one of the greatest elements of national greatness, and from which, as much as anything else, a commonwealth takes its shape.

These then are the three great elementary ingredients of any society, past, present, or future; from one or other of which every feature which it

presents may be more or less distinctly traced. Religion, the greatest of all secondary causes, arises from these three; and it varies according to the proportions in which they have been mingled. The same may be said of Literature. The same of the political constitution of any community.

17. Implicit possibilities.

To say that we are content with any civilisation which at present exists upon earth, or ever has existed, would be to belie the promise of nature, and to forswear all faith in ourselves and our children. We can well conceive a state of society, as much greater than the best which now exists, as the best society now existing is greater and better than the time of Egyptian or Assyrian half-civilisation. Not that we should therefore despise the achievements of those who have gone before us. We build upon their work. We correct ourselves upon their mistakes, and improve upon their improvements. They did their work. Our work is, without underrating theirs, to acknowledge, with thankfulness, the blessings which we enjoy, and not to forget that they may be greatly increased hereafter to our descendants; that the face of the world may be altogether changed, even as it has been changed, from time to time, during the course of our own very limited experience of history, and from the traces of former men, of former ways and habits, of former vicissitudes.

It has, indeed, always been a question which goes first – the man, or the state of society in

which he lives. Much may be said in favour of each extreme position, and the truth, perhaps, is that the two go together. They act and react upon each other, for good or for evil, so that it is impossible to predict how high mankind may rise under favourable circumstances, or how low they may fall under the visitation of an adverse destiny. For as the frame of man, so is his life and his thoughts. Man is the strongest of animals; no animal can undergo so much as he can; no other creature can so conform itself to changes. The same race may at different times, or even at the same time, in different countries, and under different emergencies, adapt itself to the most dissimilar parts. After a few generations of nomad life, man takes the very shape of a horseman, he takes the very shape most adapted to govern the animal with which he is most intimately connected. Others, who have been Divers for centuries, remain, without suffering, an incredible time under water. Even women become inured to the most laborious occupations, so that they surpass the strength of ordinary men. Again, those who have been bred to hunt on foot, as is the case with whole nations in many parts of the world, are known to surpass, in speed and endurance, the strongest and fleetest animals. Those who are required to lift or carry weights discover a set of muscles which were undeveloped before. I will not believe that the same Nature which has constructed man of a body capable of such extraordinary

transformations, has given him a soul one whit less ingenious. And this ingenuity, this vast capacity for all kinds of life, and every kind of experience possible upon earth, discloses itself in communities no less than in individuals. They may be moulded, tempered, and formed in the course of a few generations, until the difference is so great between the fourth generation and the first, that the resemblance is almost lost in it.

18. The duty of preparation.

It remains for me to speak of the tendency of colonial society; of its promise, and also of the principal danger which threatens it – in short, of the civil development of a new community – which is nothing else than society carried out in a political direction.

Having presented the proposition that the life of a society is developed from within, in certain general forms; having considered the three primary constituent elements of national life, and how they bear upon the question of institutions; having expressed my belief that Nature is ever busily at work fashioning, with infinite skill, a variety of new combinations among men, I may now give my conclusion as far as regards New Zealand. Whatever the future of that country may be, it lies in the hands of its own people to make it what they wish. It is their business alone. Nature has done very much for them to begin upon. Their position on the earth; their climate; the resources of their soil; their race; and their antecedents generally, could scarcely

have been bettered. It behoves them, then, not to be wanting on their part; and, in one word, "let them educate;" for thus alone can they fulfil their highest call – -to preserve and employ the men which the Almighty sends them. Let them, for their own sakes, prepare a place and a way before the ministering spirits – the benefactors – from whose labours their commonwealth will take its form.

19. The danger and the remedy.

"There is," says Mr. Fitzgerald, in his address to the Council at Canterbury, "something, to my mind, awful in the prospect of the great mass of a community rapidly increasing in wealth and power, without that moral refinement which fits them to enjoy the one, or that intellectual cultivation which enables them to use the other." He proposes to meet this dreadful tendency, and to anticipate the degeneracy sure to follow its unchecked advance by a system of secular education; and, without entering into minute detail, gives a general outline of the scheme which he was about to propose, for which, interesting in the highest degree, both from its subject-matter, and also from the masterly way in which it is treated, the reader is referred to the address itself, which ought certainly to be reprinted for circulation in England.

The few words given above will be enough to introduce to us one of the greatest dangers to which a small and isolated society of men, enjoying no small share of material prosperity, is

exposed. It is a danger which will not perhaps be felt sensibly in the present generation; which will be counteracted by the continual in-coming of new settlers, whose minds have been trained in the stern school of England, where the lessons of power and self-control are taught with terrible severity, and learned with wonderful fidelity; which may be successfully encountered and overcome by sound national education; but which, if permitted to parley, or indulged with the truce of a faint opposition, will slowly, but surely, sow seeds of diseases in the commonwealth, far more intolerable to the sons than the poverty and cares which drove the fathers from their grand old native land. Ignorance, presumption, and lawless recklessness, unfortunately too compatible with ease and abundance, come first.

A degraded standard of morals; a low state of public opinion; a deluge of trashy information destructive of all true learning; a vulgar hatred of discipline, duty, and authority; overweening self-estimation; utter flimsiness of fashion, thought, and purpose succeed.

Gross delusions; hideous perversions; imbecility; indifference; vile tyranny; abject servility, are the third and final act of the drama. The whole (in an evil sense) is perfectly natural, and, stage by stage, perfectly self-consequent.

Laissez-faire has two sources. It means either despair or false peace. The first springs up in a community where inveterate evil dominates

over hope itself; the second, where everything is full, smooth, and fair.

Men, therefore, must not be left to themselves; they must be bitted and broken in. They must undergo discipline: of the hearth; of the school; of the church; of the State. No part of the work of any one of these can we possibly afford to give up; for they are the more absolutely needed at every step which a nation takes in the march of freedom. The more real the liberty, the more indispensable a habit of self-respect. Even a despotism may sometimes rightly impose constraints and exact sacrifices.

Much more, then, may a free commonwealth claim cheerful obedience when she thus addresses her citizens: "My children, you are justly proud of being free; for your freedom consists, not in parchment, or in mere usage, or in rigid adherence to any stated form of institutions, but in the power of making what laws you please for yourselves; for you can build up, pull down, or alter just as you will. Change is with you an element of stability; agitation and constant debate are rightly regarded as conservative powers; by inquiry and discussion, you alone preserve the meaning and spirit of the lively oracles of antiquity.

"In order to cherish this, your free condition, you are well content to deny yourselves; to pinch excess; to confine waste and riot. You do not allow that a free man is free to be a free swine. You discourage self-expense; selfish exclusive-

ness; selfish avarice. You can afford to permit, nay, you insist upon, what other nations would call the interference of the State, wherever the individual begins to forget his citizenship. Nowhere else are the duties of property and power so jealously enforced.

"I bid you all aspire: count what you have hitherto attained as nothing; measuring it by the possibility of the future. Realise the fact, that if 'the individual withers, and the world is more and more,' we must call up a third power to mediate between the two. Let each man know that he must preserve the State, in order that she may preserve him. The intelligent heart of the citizen is the only Palladium of a constitution."

The freer the nation, the stricter is the discipline which it will endure with advantage to itself.

20. The promise.

"Before man made us citizens, great nature made us men," says Lowell. The promise in a new country lies in the direction of greater freedom for the individual and his household, greater comfort, a better position. It demands certain sacrifices at the outset; it exacts toil and hardship from its votaries; it inflicts, in many instances, unexpected difficulties and losses; and, altogether, such cares and contests, that those who undertake to fulfil its behests from purely selfish motives, will either sink under the struggle it imposes; or find the reward it offers (when attained) delusive and unreal to them.

When we reflect that the Almighty, in the calls and the promises which accompany them in his Word, never gives a solitary blessing, but always appeals to the natural instinct, and includes the children, we shall see at once that something more than mere personal advantages is absolutely required to carry men through a long and painful contest. Selfishness is, after all, only one of the many forms of weakness. We become strong by self-denial; a virtue which is born of love.

Those that are fighting for wife and children are warriors indeed, whose hand will not be turned back in the day of battle; especially, if like our German forefathers, they combat in their presence; while the restless adventurer, who is proud to be thought ambitious, and full of vain dreams of self-advancement, will not endure the heat of the mid-day sun.

I affirm distinctly, that to men settling in a right spirit, New Zealand holds out a promise adequate to the struggle from which the colonist can never escape. Her natural advantages and prospects have been, if anything, understated in the chapters devoted to that part of the subject. Others (far more important), which relate to the moral, social, and religious habit of a people, are all within the reach of her new community.

They have room and time. In England, be it observed, the statesman's complaint continually is – -Work as hard as I will, I cannot keep pace

with events; time, and chance, and population outstrip me. The working man feels the very same difficulty in his sphere; both alike are left behind in the race. In this respect, every colony has a start over the mother country. Add to this a new career, and experience free-given; at least whatever experience the history of the world and of kindred nations can afford. Taken together, this surely constitutes as great a promise as ever was vouchsafed to any society.

We might in former years have placed the undue interference of England, as an objection and a disadvantage, to be set against our colonies, and in favour of the United States. This, however, in most instances, no longer exists; at any rate, it is wearing fast away. The vicious and injurious arrangement under which, unfortunately for all parties, our colonies have been planted, will make way for an intelligible connection between our various States, by which the empire will gain in strength; the old land be relieved of unnecessary burdens; and the promise of the new land run no risk of defeat.

21. Colonial society Americanises.

It has been said that the character which we sometimes extol, sometimes decry as the American, is really the character of the British colonist. At any rate, the tendency of society lies that way. We may justly attack it as unscrupulous and even reckless in the nation and in the individual; but let us remember that, in this world, good and evil not only grow in the same soil, but that they inter-

weave their roots, so that we can seldom look to root out a virtue or a vice without at the same time injuring its cognate opposite. This same character exhibits a greater amount of self-reliance in difficulties; a greater power of enterprise, inventive and constructive, than the world has ever before seen. There can be no doubt that the quickness and energy of the American may be traced to the colonising element which completely pervades the society in which he lives. It is a curious fact, that while the Eastern States of the Union contribute far more emigrants to the great West than the whole of Europe (vast as the European movement has now become); their material growth does not appear to be in the least checked by the effort. The American is essentially a colonist, and his ways and doings express a habit of life, rough and ready, free and daring, generous but dangerous, of infinite suppleness, dexterity, and resource. He cannot be equalled for contrivance; and the boundless field opened for national aggrandisements and private speculation, inspires him with a most ambitious temper. What is a castle-in-the-air to an Englishman, is but a common road-side cottage to him.

22. Counteracting power in New Zealand.

Now, while I am convinced that society in such a colony as New Zealand must daily Americanise, I am also persuaded that the New Zealander will retain more of the Briton, than any other colonist, for the following reasons. We have no other

colony which so much resembles England in climate, size, and position. It is not too much to say, that New Zealand will become an exact copy of England. Churches, houses, roads, inns, hedges, trees, will be almost entirely English, and, to judge from the temper of the present inhabitants, the conservative principle is likely to be very strong there. Again, the very nature of the country will be found to be anti-American. It is small, detached from others, mountainous, and intensely local. On the whole, the spirit of its people will be bold, free, very political, and, probably, eminently conservative. It will be a nation of small freeholders (or peasant proprietors as they are now called), and as such, I do believe that its future will be grand, happy, and noble. Some of my readers may here feel inclined to say: And you, who have resided in New Zealand, and who love that country, and estimate its future so highly, – why have you left it, – -and do you intend to return there? Answer: I did not lay the lines of my own life, nor can I separate the ties which bind me to England. Were they sundered, New Zealand would be very soon my country and my home. Because while nothing real can be done here, I discern an employment, and a cause in that land for which a man might gladly live and die.

CHAPTER XX. THOUGHTS ON THE HISTORY OF NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER XX.

THOUGHTS ON THE HISTORY OF NEW ZEALAND.

1. Importance of small matters in history.

MATTERS, which seem of the most trifling moment, assume, with lapse of time, an importance and a significance which becomes the stranger the more it is considered. Every man has, at some time or other, stopped in his way to wonder at the chapter of accidents which brought him to a certain position. But his wonder grows into admiration on discovering, as he cannot fail to do, that nothing, of all that conducted him, was an accident; or rather, retaining the word accident if you will, he begins to understand that accidents are only the outward expressions of an inward destiny, which is always one and the same. For the life of every man, and every nation, is a doom that never could be altered. The dying penitent retains in the depths of his soul whatever of the libertine he ever really possessed.

In the history of "beginnings," especially, are

minute accounts and descriptions valuable for instruction, and powerful to awaken passions. So dear are they to the nations, that, if wanting, their place must be supplied by legends and mythical stories, for society loves to provide itself with illustrations – of its childish adventures, of its early struggles, and of the strange romances which ushered in maturity; nor does this desire lessen when it has achieved real greatness. There is surely some double charm about the spring, when viewed from summer or autumn; its own and another – not its own, but reflected from the coming winter.

Again, as minute touches, graceful or tender, or even ludicrous, illustrate a pure reality, so also to relieve the intense melancholy (I might say the weird-like, enchanted gloom) of all history, they are invaluable.

For the melancholy of History is like that caused by the aspect of the ocean, or a great landscape, or a great city. It raises the most touching questions, which no mortal can answer. "We keep asking and praying, Good God, what is all this for? Why so many heavings and sinkings in that which seemed so calm a long way off; so much fraud and violence; such insight, such blindness; such deep sorrow, such abandoned levity; such ludicrous nonsense, mixed up with such ghostly horrors, as if they were part and parcel of each other? Punch may be pitched upon a miser's tombstone – a death-sentence may be folded up in a joke.

In short, if a history is to be intelligible and lifelike, or even bearable, it must abound in small traits and passages of natural character and adventure.

"Representative Men" are, for this reason, invaluable; for that a nation may think in the head of one great man, its master and servant at once, and act with his hand, none can deny without denying the divine right of all government. Their recorded doings, sayings, and even looks are always acceptable to their countrymen. And there are little events, and small facts, and traditional notices which go directly to the heart of a people. The great masterpiece of Thucydides is full of such. Two of the most wonderful Hebrew books, the books of Joshua and Judges, are full of incidental antiquarian research, often strangely, and as if by chance, introduced. For the same reason, the chapter on the state of England, previous to the Revolution, is more eagerly read than any other part of Macaulay's History.

In the valley we think that the brook might have been easily turned by a bank and a ditch. Afterwards looking down from the high lands, we are aware that it always returns to its course, that nothing could have prevented it from falling into the river almost at the very place which we thought had been accidentally chosen. The lines of the country show us this at a glance. After such a glimpse of facts in the history of any great nation, or remarkable

enterprise, it is natural that a weight of care, accompanied by a willingness to leave things as far as possible alone, – and yet, a regret that it is so, – should overcast the most active minds. We sit down despairing; confessing, that to effect anything real is beyond our power. We are ready to call on the clouds to come down and make all fade away. Then, to refresh our fainting spirits, the genius of little things re-enters. We revive, to feel that "Life's little items make the sum of Life;" that as, in every organised living creature, each part exists for the whole being, and the whole being for each of the parts, so each link in the chain of cause and effect exists for the whole series, which is not itself if the smallest real link be wanting. Nature fights against indifference. Everything (she asserts) has its value, and the smallest incidents their place.

Thus, we recover our feelings of the dignity and influence of particular actions, and of small things generally. True, there is an everlasting contradiction about the world, if we choose to despond; but we revive; we revive with a cry of delight at the perception of the world's order, harmony, and beauty, unity, and its wonderful variety.

The diary of an emigrant passenger of 1840-50 to New Zealand; the log of the ship that he sailed in; its cargo, size, and fittings; the scenes and sensations at first landing; meet-

ings of colonists, their opinions, prospects and plans; a sketch of the tents they built, of their first church, of the town as it was at the end of its first or second year; a map to show where the first fields were made; the aspect of the wild country, and of the wild people that dwelt there; the dealings and bargains of the white folks with them; their customs, language, and their fears; accounts of quarrels and little wars; anecdotes of the first magistrate or founder; lists of market prices; shreds of old newspapers; articles and correspondence; speculations; protests; beginnings of legislation, enactments, and changes; notices of the introduction of sheep and cattle; of trade and taxation; import and export tables; – all these will be read with avidity, and invested with importance by the New Zealander of the year 2000; little as they command attention now. And the more particular such accounts are, probably the more interesting they will be to the third or fourth generation. It is the duty of those who have been actively engaged in such scenes to set them clearly and truly down in black and white. Let the first citizens of a new country collect and arrange the materials of their own history. In want of this, many curious experiences, and adventures worthy of note, are utterly forgotten and perish, or are only remembered in some mythic form by the sons' sons of him who encountered them. The Paston Papers; Antony Wood; Chaucer; Izaak

Walton; Hudibras; abounding as they do in trifles, are the great materials of English history.

Let me then, again, press upon any one who has seen and taken a lively part in the foundation of any settlement, has engaged in Maori wars, early road-makings and clearings; who felt the first earthquake; who heard the Waiarau massacre told by an eyewitness; who has surveyed extensively, and perhaps noted down his impressions in a journal, – to take heed that these opportunities of giving instruction and amusement at once to his children and grandchildren are not foolishly lost.

2. Records of youth-time; an antidote against despondency.

Perhaps a very powerful reason why the historical memorials of the youth-time of a great nation touch us of these later times, with so keen a delight, is a melancholy consciousness that we can contemplate youth in traditional abstraction only – for to feel it and enjoy it in itself is for the aged European nations long ago impossible. Hence, too, the love of colonies. In these we fondly hope to realise that abstract, that fabulous chronicle of the past, a new life upon earth, a new creature. Vainly. Our children are born as old as we are.

But in what consists that deep and dire regret, that strange Nemesis which almost always falls upon those who have long studied history; which especially exercised such a terrible influence upon Niebuhr; which was plain enough, too, in the grand Pagan world? Everyone may find it in Tacitus, and it is discernible in

Thucydides. Is there not something more in it than a strong sense of particular national decay? Is it not a dirge upon humanity? Even the hopeful and imaginative mind of Goethe became overcast and anxious, when he suffered himself to speculate upon the prospects of mankind. I conceive that there are two main sources for this despondency of experienced and wise men.

3. Two sources of despondency.

First, an intimate acquaintance with the great truths of the history of man; such an acquaintance as books alone cannot give. Goethe, in the conversation to which I have alluded, tells us openly that man's load of misery grows upon him as he advances; that the work of destruction becomes every day more necessary as a work of pity; that the time is coming, when God will no longer be able to find pleasure in his creation, or even to bear with man. But in his moments of darkness and distress, he ever betook himself to nature for consolation. Thus he always managed to emerge safely from the dark hour, by becoming an individual again, and could make his own case out, by reflecting that if he owed Nature a death, according to her laws, she by the same laws was bound to give him a new life and body, to replace the old one, because he had always worked as hard as he could, &c. This was his own inward witness. But in the English mind, the contemplation of nature as a source of consolation can scarcely be said to exist. The

religious broodings of our mind turn it into doubt and even bitterness.

For nature becomes a second and a distinct cause of melancholy in our very best men. Bishop Butler in his reflections on the world, as a state of moral discipline, after confessing that this process of discipline was to the vast majority a signal failure, goes on to illustrate and confirm (and thereby he supposes to diminish) the difficulty, by reminding us how terribly nature fails.

"For," says he, "of the numerous seeds of vegetables and bodies of animals, which are adapted and put in the way to improve to such a point or state of natural maturity and perfection, we do not see perhaps, that one in a million actually does. Far the greatest part of them decay before they are improved to it, and appear to be absolutely destroyed. Yet no one who does not deny all final causes will deny that those seeds and bodies which do attain to that point of maturity and perfection answer the end for which they were really designed by nature, and therefore that nature designed them for such perfection. And I cannot forbear adding, though it is not to the present purpose, that the appearance of such an amazing waste in nature, with respect to these seeds and bodies by foreign causes, is to us as, unaccountable as, what is much more terrible, the present and future ruin of so many moral agents by themselves, i.e. by vice."

Oh, Bishop! English to the back-bone, why is thy melancholy book placed in the hands of the young? Our greatest living poet, in the "In Memoriam," has the very same thought. He asks –

"Are God and nature then at strife,
That nature lends such evil dreams,
So careful of the type she seems,
So careless of the single life?"

And considering

"That of fifty seeds,
She often brings but one to bear,"

he can only

"Faintly trust the larger hope."

(The melancholy of Tennyson, compared with the hypochondria of Butler, is as fifty to a million.) – – – -The appeal to nature, then, only makes matters worse with the English.

4. Connection between the natural, and the purely historical.

But it may be said – After all, what has nature to do with history? Everything. Nature is the alter ego of history. Everywhere interwoven, they interpret one another. Never can the historian refrain from natural investigation. On the other side, how the remotest forms of history live again under the hand of a great naturalist! What a light Humboldt throws upon history generally, even in a simple note on cereal grasses, in the "Ansichten;" and indeed throughout his works. What a positive inspiration of nature and history is not his little story "The Rhodian Genius." Never can the student of history rise into the master, without diligent inquiry at the oracle of nature. Never can the naturalist, without losing the very soul of his science, dissociate nature and man. Never can

he forget the great question with which he starts. Is nature an appendage of man? or man of nature? Which includes the other? or what includes both?

But what an immense effect has not the very scenery of a country on its inhabitants? Has not the very change which cultivation and long prosperity have effected in this island, made the old England, the England of the Plantagenet Edwards and Henrys, a terra incognita to us, and the old English as fabulous people? I would suggest to those whose pockets are interested in furnishing dioramic instruction for the people, that the gradual changes of scenery in an English manor, as seen at a bird's-eye glance from some high hill, from the Conquest to the present time, would, if properly presented and commented upon, deserve, and, in all probability, attract attention. The people have changed with the face of the country. They have changed it, and its change has re-acted upon them in many ways. When Remigius of Lincoln, Earl Giffard, and other high commissioners appointed by the Conqueror over the great survey of the Midland Counties, went forth upon their "Inquisitio," what were the towns, and fields, and woods, and road-tracks like? Castles and monastic palaces, those great features of the mediaeval landslip, were very scarce then; churches, indeed, were numerous, but they, and almost all the buildings of that time, were low and poor; only the immediate vicinity of villages was regularly culti-

vated. Terrible swamps, great wastes, and dense woods, dotted here and there with clearings, separated the little communities one from another. Or more than two hundred years later, when Edward the Third, with a great host drawn from various countries, marched against the Scotch? So great a multitude of wild beasts were driven before the advancing army, that on one occasion, Froissart says, they created an alarm like the attack of an enemy. Again, I say, as the country, so the people; as the people, so the country. Those vast woods are now in pasture, and heavily stocked with great tame beasts; or under the plough, tilled by costly machinery, and manured by the produce of distant lands. Instead of oaks and beeches, great cities raise their smoky chimneys to heaven: instead of cataracts and swamps, we shall find water taxed, economised, and tortured into steam: instead of the tangled incumbrances of a thickly-matted forest, we have streets and gas-lamps; and instead of the scanty sprinkling of lawless men, almost as wild as their neighbours the beasts, oppressors and oppressed, we have a countless population of agricultural and manufacturing helots. New kinds of tyranny, of suffering, and of resistance: – Cowell is the "Robin Hood" of 1854; S.G.O. is our "Friar Tuck."

5. The three stages of life.

Since man and nature; the history of the globe, and of its greatest inhabitant and governor, go hand in hand: since they reflect and interpret each other, – we very

reasonably call them in to correct and explain one another. Taken together, they teach us, at every step, fresh lessons of Patience, Lowliness, Thrift, and Hope.

The young man starts on his pilgrimage with unbounded expectations; despising little gains; full of confidence in himself, and trust in others. The world is a flower-garden; life, a pleasure-party. A few months or years (as the case may be) bring him over to a new but equally puerile conclusion. He is now a cynic; selfish even to ostentation; a slave to vile indulgence; sneering at reliance on others; disclaiming self-respect. The world is a prison now; life a battle against itself; society a great conspiracy of rogues and dupes. Yet another year or two, and he arrives at a third condition. He becomes either utterly indifferent as to himself and wicked to his neighbours; or, by the gracious helping hand of Providence, he comes to himself in good earnest. It may be the severe warning of a friend, or the gentle love of a woman. It may be some great judgment, or some great pleasure. It may be that he becomes husband and father, or that he is bereaved of those he is beginning to love. It is, in short, the turning or returning of his soul to his duty. He now makes his choice, under the influence of deep, but not always outwardly-agitating emotion. All his thoughts are changed by this decision, and he becomes a man accordingly. The three great problems – the World – the Self – the God

– are being written in fresh characters on his heart, which begins to grow anew within him. – So, too, is the course of the world; and the various schools of philosophers may be interpreted according to these stages. Some exult. Some despond. Some are simply practical, possessing their souls in patience; mournful, but not without hope.

6. Scheme of a history of New Zealand.

But if any vision can lend the wing of hope to our historical reverie; can cheer our researches into the kingdom of nature; can rescue our contemplations of the human race from the depths of gloomy doubt, it is the appearance of actual youth; – of a new-born rising nation, in a newly-given land. Here we revive with a cry of delight.

This brings me at once to my conception of the arrangement of our materials for a history of New Zealand.

1. I should commence with the most careful and even the most minute description of the country itself, – as it was, as far as can be gleaned from geological research, and as it is at present, before the eye of the painter or the natural philosopher.

"It therefore is, I apprehend, our duty sedulously to collect and record facts and information in each department of science and human learning; carefully abstaining from that foolish pride, which would lead us to reject as useless all that our ignorance can neither comprehend nor make use of.

"Regarding our duties under this light, we should find that a field of vast usefulness lies open before us.

"Every creeping moss, or lofty tree, every waving fern,

every common plant in this country, every weed that floats its tangles in the sea, is worthy of our observation and study."

These are no ordinary words. "Again," says Sir George Grey – for I am quoting his address to the members of the New Zealand Society, –

"Again, if the trees and plants of these dense and humid forests are worthy of our attention, we should also remember that there is not a bird which wings its way through them, or which, deprived of wings, stalks with strange ungainly gait about them, which does not claim our observation...................

"We, who stand in this country, occupy an historical position of extraordinary interest. Before us lies a future already brilliant with the light of a glorious morn, which we are to usher in to gladden unborn generations. Behind us, lies a night of fearful gloom, unillumed by the light of written records, of picture memorials, of aught which can give a certain idea of the past. A few stray streaks of light, in the form of tradition, of oral poetry, of carved records, are the only guides we have. And in the gloom of that night are fast fading out of view, although dim outlines of them are still visible, some of the most fearful spectres which have ever stalked amongst mankind, in the hideous shapes of idolatry, human sacrifices, and cannibalism; mixed up with which, in uncouth unison, was much of real poetry and of actual grace of fancy."

2. In every national history, between the period when Nature reigned supreme, her territory yet uninvaded by man, and that far later time when the process of civilisation was already at work, and certain facts stand out like rocks among the breakers, separating the sea and land; there is always to be found an age of actual or comparative mythology. The (to us) aboriginal race

which has occupied New Zealand for unknown ages, and may, for anything we know to the contrary, have been expressly created for the islands in the Pacific; this race will, to the future inhabitants of New Zealand, represent the fabulous period, between night and day, the twilight of history, the border-land between the dominions of nature and man. These will for them embody "the giant brood of Phlegra," and perhaps they may remember their own immediate forefathers as "the heroic race," that fought, "mixed with auxiliar gods."

In order to realise, as far as possible, that freshness and vivid strength which constitutes the charm and the miracle of our own old European chronicles, let us make that ancient nation describe themselves, let us take down their history from their own lips. Their songs, their stories, their traditions and ceremonies, their fables, their very genealogies, given word for word, constitute the second great division of New Zealand history. And here the historian will give a real picture of savage and barbarous life. Bloody, cruel, unclean, treacherous, cowardly, full of fear and want; and yet withal, not without certain human touches of bravery, sympathy, and hope and pity. He will throw his soul into the visible half-darkness, and amid the walking shadows which stand out in dim, indistinct, but sublime relief against the ocean of night, and chaos beyond them.

3. Hence we pass into the realm of the morning star. Another epoch opens; new forms appear upon the stage; and with the arrival of Captain

Cook, the history of white men and their dominion commences.

The colonisation of New Zealand, strictly so called, is the third part of the history of that country, differing most materially from that which went before, and no less so from that which is about to succeed it. Not that colonisation can cease with the introduction of the fourth epoch, which has already commenced, any more than the element which gave its name to the second period, could altogether disappear on the introduction of the third.

It is not an act of termination or conclusion, so much as an act of introduction or new birth, which constitutes an historical epoch. If the chapters of the world's history were meted out merely upon the principle of extinction, forming a period or division between one epoch and another, its history would be one rather of death than of life. We desire, then, if only from the affectation of thinking that we are moving forward, or becoming young again, to compute the times and seasons of history by its births. The annalist, or chronicler of this third period, will have a most difficult and distasteful task to discharge. The first part of his chronicle will present little else than a catalogue of the injuries to which the Old nation was subjected by the coming in of the New. He must describe the astonishment and wonder, which that great manifestation of new power caused to the unthinking barbarous mind. How hospitality in the first instance, rapidly changed into distrust and hatred;

how the morning was ushered in with clouds and storm; how the New Zealand natives were divided against themselves, by the arts and strange means of life, as well of destruction, introduced among them by the stranger; how the new element might have appeared, for a long time, a simple curse to the country.

At length a ray of comfort and of light breaks through the darkness and the tempest. The efforts of a few wise and pious men, who ventured their lives among the wild population, begin to tell. They begin to learn that it is not for evil only that the stranger has visited their coast. Not as a wonderous phenomenon only, but also as a ministering angel, has the inhabitant of the ends of the earth suddenly entered among them. He, too, brings comfort and healing on his wings, although his first arrival was fraught with tribulation. The proclamation of the British sovereignty over the islands of New Zealand, and the treaty of Waitangi, upon which it was based, open the second division of this part of the history. These, after the interval of a period of disturbance, contributed more than anything else, to settle the country; and to enable the two races to dwell together peaceably, and with mutual advantage. Henceforth, we shall find that the frowning countenance of the genius who entered in with the white man, did but veil the real purpose of his benignant mission.

Even the wars which broke out between Her Majesty's Government and some of the tribes,

have teen productive of more good than evil. They have taught the two races to know and to respect each other. It was necessary that each should know the other's strength; that the one should be declared superior, without the absolute degradation of the other; and this is what has actually happened.

This division will also embrace an account of the regular colonisation of New Zealand – how it began; with what difficulties it was attended; how it succeeded, in spite of most entangled and perplexed management, which seemed more calculated to check than to advance its progress. The government of Sir George Grey, and the extraordinary advance in prosperity which the country has exhibited for the last few years, will form a very important part of this section.

4. The fourth division will commence with the introduction of the free constitution which has lately been conferred on New Zealand. It will be further remarkable, as indicating a very important change in the process of colonisation. Heretofore, the country was colonised by an external and altogether artificial process. From henceforth, we must look to the energy of New Zealand itself, to the advantages which it is known to possess, to its internal progress, and to the acts of its own Legislature, for a continuance of that supply of men from Great Britain, without which its resources cannot be developed. A double enfranchisement marks the commencement of the epoch which has now arrived.

It must not be supposed from these remarks,

that I contemplate the possibility of any history of New Zealand, worthy of the name, being written in the present day, or by any one now alive. It will be written, whenever the time comes, by a New Zealander, and not by an Englishman; by a born citizen of the new nation, and not by a colonist. I am merely commenting upon the materials; I am merely endeavouring, perhaps fancifully, to distribute and arrange them, each in its own place. I seek merely to give to each occurrence, and to each description, an imaginary habitation and a name; and while I review the past, I can here indulge in such a vision of the future, as the state of Europe and our own domestic history can by no means furnish to my mind. It affords an alleviation to regret – it creates new life under the ribs of death – and energy in the place of languor.

That this is in a great measure imaginary, I well know. Whatever has been will be again. The shadow of the past is only another name for the herald of the future. Whatever slight changes may give variety to the future history of the children of men, it will be, in all its greater features, only a repetition of the past.

[Greek]

Woodfall and Kinder, Printers, Angel Court, Skinner Street, London.

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