1814-1853 - The Missionary Register [Sections relating to New Zealand.] - 1838 - Obituaries of Manu and Motoi, two New-Zealand Chiefs, p 225-228

This is an account of Manu, an old respected Chief of the Rarawa Tribes. This Chief, together with his tribe, lived at a place called Ngaruwati, nine miles distant from the Settlement. As this was the first direction in which the Natives cut a road, we generally visited them on Lord's Days; leaving the Native who might travel with us, to keep school with the Natives of a nearer village, while we proceeded to Manu's Place. The old man always welcomed us, and seemed much pleased to be visited. However, he still remained, like all others in their native state, superstitious, and careless about the things which he heard. When I have been there, the people about him would sometimes assemble around me; and with the greatest unconcern listen to a hymn sung by myself, and to the Services of the Church, with the responses repeated by myself, in the same manner. For more than twelve months we visited his place; yet we saw nothing to cheer us, save that the old Chief always said, "Come again, come again." Many of his people would talk or sleep during Divine Service; and, at length, we told them, that we would leave them, and visit other places, where we might find Natives to listen to us.

When we discontinued our visits, Manu said he was dark; and entreated us not to forsake them. This uniform good behaviour made me resolve that he should have his share of attention. For the last two years, his health had been on the decline. Having been, next to Pana, whose sister he married, our warmest friend, we felt a lively interest in him; and administered medicine and other comforts, which he greatly needed: and on hearing, in September last, that he was much worse, I went to see him; but he had gone on a visit to another village.

In a few weeks he became weaker; and was desirous of living at one of his villages, within four miles of our Station. He sent for me, to visit him at this place. On my arrival, I found Pana and his tribe around him; but they were not apprehensive that this was a sickness from which he would not recover. I felt his pulse; and asked him a few questions as to his health, while all looked anxiously on, and inquired what my thoughts were. I replied, that nature had no longer power to grapple with the disease. Pana and his family seemed struck mute with astonishment at this declaration; and seriously asked me if I thought that he would this time "go to dust." I answered, "Yes!" The old man, however, was not at all displeased; but replied, "I shall not recover." I again reminded him of the love of Jesus in coming to save sinners; to which he listened with attention. I spoke to him on prayer, and pointedly on secret prayer. He replied, "I have begun to pray in my heart." This one sentence seemed to reward me for all the journeys taken to see him. I gave him a word of encouragement; and said, that if what he had told me were true, I should have a light heart; and he might hope to receive the blessing of a new heart. He gave a look of assent that such was the case. Pana and myself now took leave of him; when Pana, with the Scriptures in his hand, said, "This is all I have to say--'Be courageous; be strong to this work.'" Manu, knowing that we were busy in erecting buildings in the week-days, and feeling, likewise, that his dissolution was fast approaching, became very desirous of being carried into our Settlement, that he might be quite near us. His brother came on Saturday, to invite

me to visit him on the Lord's Day, and to confer with him on his coming to the Station. After Morning Service, I rode to his place: he was still growing weaker; but as the outward man decayed, the inward man was apparently renewed. We had Service together; and I dwelt particularly on the verse, Jesus came into the world to save sinners. After religious conversation with him, he told me how anxious he was to be carried to our Settlement. On the Monday, he was conveyed hither in a litter. We made him as comfortable as possible, and regularly visited him. He listened with profound attention to all that was said; and was much struck with the history of our forefathers before they had the Gospel preached to them. I have lately felt more than ever the responsibility of dealing faithfully with the sick. It was felt in this man's case. Although he might have a little light, yet he was in much darkness. I endeavoured to impress this truth upon his mind--that he had, through a long life, served Satan; and that his old master would not easily give him up to Jesus: that he resembled a man who did not begin to plant his farm till the evening; and that therefore he must work hard, if he would finish it before night. His replies were, on the whole, satisfactory: at least, I could discern that he prayed. Still he seemed slow to learn what was pressed upon him --that his sins had been accumulating from his infancy. Though his attention was fixed on what I said, yet he honestly confessed that he did not feel the subject as I wished him to feel it; although, to use his own words, he did feel a hatred to Satan and his ways. Though a little encouraged in this man's case, I could not help feeling, and remarking to other members of this Settlement, that though I believed he would be saved, yet he would be but just saved.

On Lord's Day, Oct. 16th, I had a long conversation with him; and still urged on him the necessity of working hard while he had time; at the same time shewing him, by the words of Jesus to the thief on the cross, that he need not despair, if he fully surrendered, even at the eleventh hour. He knew that he was near death; and said to me, "I will go inland and die; and be brought back again, to be buried here at the place which has made me great;"--as though he considered all his other greatness, in his native state, not worthy to be compared with the little knowledge he had now received of Jesus Christ. This was what he meant, On Monday morning he sent for me; and said he would not go away till he had seen me. I saw that he was then in a dying state; and he spoke of his death and burial in such a calm and collected manner as I had never witnessed before. His countenance, which was naturally of a most ferocious cast, now assumed the most placid features. He was carried to his place to die, as he had said.

On Thursday I went to visit him; but his spirit had fled; and his corpse had passed on its way to the Settlement. Although it would have been desirable to have seen him in his last hours, yet my mind was relieved on being told that Pana had been with him for the last two days, and had done all he could to help him on his way to heaven. Pana asked him, pointedly, whither his spirit was going. He said, "To heaven;" and asked what else he could say, for Jesus was his preserver, and was actually standing by him to take care of him. He told Pana and his party many things of the most pleasing and satisfactory import. About 100 Natives came into the Settlement with the corpse, who all bore witness to the sayings of this dying Christian. It was truly astonishing to observe how over-precise all his tribe were in relating, not only the words, but the manner in which the old man spoke them. Pana remarked, while we were all assembled round the corpse, that not any thing which we said to him while here was lost, for he brought it all over again. He, moreover, very much wished to see me before he died; and inquired, "When will he come? when will he come?" He also said how much he regretted that all the baptized Natives did not visit him while he was lying at our place. When very near his last, he gathered all his tribe around him; and begged that they would follow him, that they might have but one dwelling-place. He looked up, and said to Pana, "You see me die: be strong, be courageous, and do not suffer me to be buried after Satan's manner. Carry my body back to the Missionaries' place, where I was made great, to be interred." -- He was interred in a Christian manner. His Christian death will have, we hope, a good effect on the Natives.

This last year has proved fatal to many of the poor Natives of both sexes. Of some we have a good hope: I would that I could say so of all! but it is to be feared that some have proved careless and thoughtless, to the very last. Among those of whom we indulge a good hope, I must reckon a man of the name of Motoi. I had him brought to the Settlement last spring: he was then poorly, and I thought that medicine and good nursing would soon restore him. He was, on his arrival, able to attend worship regularly, although he manifested a great aversion to any thing of a serious nature. After he had been with us for some time, we found that he had the dropsy. When we were first informed of it, the complaint had made great progress, and no hope could be entertained of his recovery. The poor man, I think, must have been conscious of the nature of his disorder; although he kept it a secret, as the New Zealanders are no strangers to that complaint. I made all the inquiry I could respecting the nature of his disorder; but he never once mentioned to me his real state. Some Natives living with us accidentally discovered it, and informed us.

We visited him immediately, and found the report of his complaint to be too true. He was talked to very seriously on the state of his never-dying soul, and most strongly urged to prepare to meet his God. His own thoughtlessness was shewn to him, and the necessity of his preparation for death: the joys of heaven and the torments of hell were fully laid open to him; and he listened attentively, but made little or no comment. He acknowledged his thoughtlessness, and his desire of going to heaven; and seemed rather alarmed at dying in his present state. Once, when he was visited, he seemed much pleased with what was said to him: and when, after a long conversation, some other Natives came into the house and began talking of their own affairs, he seemed to feel disappointed at the interruption. I must observe here, that the poor man did not say much; but his sitting on his bed, with his head resting on his knees, and the deep attention which he paid to what was said, will never be effaced from my memory.

He seemed to be quite absorbed in thought; and I can still fancy him with his eyes fixed on the ground, listening with deep attention--sometimes raising his head to make a few inquiries -- and saying how much he wished to be saved. He was drawing very near to his eternal home, and he seemed to be aware of it; but as yet, we could not look forward to that awful period, which was so fast approaching, without feeling great anxiety for the welfare of his soul; for although he listened with deep and, I may say, sometimes with a painful attention, to what was said, yet he never at that time gave us further ground for hope. He acknowledged, at another time, that he prayed to God to enlighten his heart, which was so very dark; but it still continued very, very dark, and now he seemed in a despairing way. All was said that could be said to comfort him, and we still urged the duty of prayer on him.

When the cold hand of death seemed to be upon him, he still continued to complain of the darkness of his heart, and his great grief of mind. He was indeed a pitiable object: nothing could be done to alleviate his bodily sufferings; and the despair of his mind I shall never forget. It was Saturday; and in the evening, all assembled, according to custom, for Prayer Meeting. Poor Motoi was not forgotten: it seemed that prayer was the only resource: we had no hope. On Lord's-Day Morning, I was obliged to leave him, and go to Ahipara, to hold Service with the Natives there; but Mrs. Puckey went to him. On her entrance, he smiled, and seemed glad to see her, and was grateful for the attention shewn to him during his illness. On her inquiring how he felt as to the state of his mind, he said, "I am rejoicing: my heart is full of joy. Christ has revealed Himself to me: He said to me, 'Come to me; mine is the good place.' I am going. They are three Persons"--a Native sitting by, then said, "but one God." "Yes," Motoi said: "yesterday my heart was dark, dark, dark; but now it is so very light! Christ loves me greatly, and I love Him very much. My tribe, listen to me. I am dying. I am going to my Saviour. Never leave Mr. Puckey: the words he has spoken to me are good words: be sure and listen to what he says. Do not put it off till the time of death. Seek the Lord now, while you have health. Will you promise me

that you will turn to God? Let me hear you say, 'Yes,' before I die. Tell me you will seek the Lord." They answered, "Yes." He then desired to be washed; which was accordingly done. The church-bell ringing, he was asked if he would not like to have a pious Native to remain with him. He said, "Send me Simeon" --a baptized Native--"he is a good man." Simeon, however, was not at home. Some pious Natives, however, staid with him during the time of Divine Service, and throughout the day, conversing with him, and praying with him. When I returned from Ahipara, I went to see him; but he was too far gone to converse much. He told me that his heart was joyful, but that he could not talk much: he had said all he wished to say in the morning. -- He expired on the following day. I trust that this poor man is now rejoicing in the mansions of eternal bliss. He said much more than I can now recollect; but it cheered our hearts, and encouraged us in our labours. --Visiting the sick and dying is no small part of a Missionary's duty.