The First Christian Martyr of the New Zealand Church

John L. C. (John Larkins Cheese) Richardson

First published by W. Roberts in 1854

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

Epub © 2014 Early New Zealand Books Collection

ISBN 978-1-927289-71-6

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THE
First Christian Martyr
OF THE
New Zealand Church

AN HISTORICAL NARRATIVE.

"In future times this picturesque Valley (Taranaki), as well as Mount Egmont and the smiling open land at its base, will become as celebrated for their beauty as the Bay of Naples, and will attract travellers from all parts of the globe." – Dieffenbach.

Exeter:
W. ROBERTS, 197, HIGH STREET.
LONDON: KERBY AND SONS, 190, OXFORD STREET.
1854.

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[PREFACE]

PREFACE

In casually turning over the leaves of the Church Missionary Intelligencer the writer's attention was rivetted by a simple and unaffected narrative of the first Christian Martyr of the New Zealand Church. The impression created upon his mind by the perusal of this and other papers emanating from the pen of the Minister of the Church of Whanganu'i and his missionary wife, induced the desire to rescue the early history of that portion of the Church in connection with the Church of England and Ireland from the oblivion which usually befalls such unconnected and occasional communications. To invest the subject with as much interest as his limited ability would admit of, it appeared desirable to introduce it with an account of the early history of the country, and to intersperse it with allusions to the customs and habits of the inhabitants. Some may be induced to remark, that in selecting "blank verse" as the medium of such communication he has prophetically hit upon an apt designation of the result of

his labours. He willingly pleads guilty to the justice of the insinuation if the theme which his feeble pen has vainly essayed to illustrate and recommend should meet with a candid, thoughtful, and earnest inquirer. To those acquainted with the history of the Whanganu'i Church it will be matter of regret that a portraiture which is here attempted falls so sadly short of the bright original, whose labours, as those also of his untiring and devoted Bishop, might find a more correct delineation by a reference to a portion of the Apostle's experience, "in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst." Of such, and there are many such in New Zealand, both in connection with the Church of England and the Wesleyan Church, without reference to other Churches, it would be almost presumption to speak in the language of panegyric; their labours are their fittest eulogist, their success their most enduring and most emphatic reward.

By an allowable poetic fiction the writer is reposing on the shores of the lake Taupo when the fit of inspiration seizes him. In the vagaries of his poetic fancy he visits the coast from time to time and depicts passing

occurrences. The organs which constitute poesy are evidently somewhat deficient, for we find him repeating the same imagery, and unconsciously guilty of something like plagiarism; unconsciously, for though some of the expressions sound even to his own ear as if he had met them before, he cannot tell whence he has absorbed them; but still, though his whims be many, and his unconscious appropriations perhaps not a few, he claims belief in the integrity of his design and the truthfulness of his delineations. To avoid misapprehension, he would state, that with the exception of the martyrdom of Manihera and Keropa, he has so arranged and grouped his facts as to give a general picture of the country and its inhabitants without confining himself to the exact order of time or their connection one with the other.

By an unhappy bouleversement, the concluding note, which should have appeared at an earlier period, has got into an awkward position, still, as it brings the subject of the narrative more naturally before the reader, it would be as well to refer to it at once. The writer is aware that not a few object to the appearance of notes at all; it may be but a lame defence to say that they are a "legal tender," and have, in his opinion, a value not inferior to the current coin of the text, be that great or small.

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[CONTENTS]

CONTENTS.

Chapter 1, – A description of the Country. Its discovery. The earliest immigrations. Religious belief of the immigrants, and their cannibalism.....5 to 14

Chapter 2. – The first promulgation of Christianity. Its effects on a Chieftain, and the first convert.....15 to 22

Chapter 3. – Abolition, of slavery illustrated. Tradition – its bewildering effects....23 to 32

Chapter 4. – The persecution of the Christians and the resulting war illustrated.....33 to 41

Chapter 5. – The Harvest Home. Missionary's efforts to attain peace. Christmas. The first Native Mission. The Martyr's death.......42 to 51

Chapter 6. – Attempts at reconciliation – its results. The Missionary's Exposition of Scripture......52 to 61

The First Christian Martyr of the New Zealand Church.

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CHAPTER I.

The First Christian Martyr of the New Zealand Church.

CHAPTER I.

OH would that I might dwell by Taupo's lake,
And gaze on its magnificence; or read
On its reflected page the wond'rous skill
Of an Almighty Hand; or roam amid
The lofty cliffs; or scale the dizzy heights
Of Tongoriro's mist envelop'd cone;
Or peer into its dark and yawning caves. –
But stay the rash desire; for, lo! from out
Each dark defile, on whirlwind's wings propell'd,
Descending fast, the angry tempest roars;
The dense and darken'd forest creaks, but yields
A stubborn homage to its ruthless pow'r.
No longer Taupo's lake in beauty smiles,
Its dark and troubled waters madly roll
In wondrous turmoil. The cautious Mao'ri,
By sad experience taught, and, thus forearm'd,
Has beach'd his bark, and, with averted eye,
Seeks his sequestered glen. –

Before me lies expanded, in length six leagues,
And with a breadth scarce less, this fickle lake.
At its southern end Waikat'o enters
From afar, bearing beneath its dark expanse
The elements which boiling springs and lakes
Sulphurous have pour'd within its bosom;
On either side stand cliffs, gaunt sentinels,
Breasting th'impetuous stream. On Taupo's
Southern shore, embower'd 'mid treacherous hills..
Te Rapa lies. Above, beyond, around,
The signs of nature's throes are thickly strew'd.
From off a hill hard by the snow-capp'd cone
Of Tongariro's lofty peak is seen,
His hoary head uprais'd eight thousand feet;
Forests of matchless beauty, cloth'd in green,
Close girt him round, from profanation's touch
The holy mount protecting; from within
Deep sounds of awful import rise; anon,
The mutter'd groan, the harsh and savage growl,
The hollow tone of dark despair. Scatter'd,
In dark abraded blocks, or molten mass,
Lie lava, once pour'd forth in liquid form
From Tongariro, or, from one still more
Majestic, though more silent now than death,
The roaring Ru'apahu. –
Conceal'd beneath the lichen and the moss
Boil many a spring, whence vapours rise
To life destructive. From Egmont seated
On Taranaki's lovely coast, a queen

Of beauty, to Edgecombe's mount, far distant
T'ward the eastern shore, range, in order
Scarce intermitted, volcano, geyser,
And signs of vast internal agony.
For many a mile are fields of liquid mud,
Of hard vibrating surface; from frightful
Caverns but precarious guard. Above
Projecting may be seen the carved posts
Which once enclos'd a village, now no more;
At midnight's silent hour, with stealthy tread,
The evil spirit op'd the jaws of earth,
And to the regions of the dead convey'd
A tribe renown'd. The air with shrieks was rent
And suppliant cries, as boiling masses
Of earth's elements, exulting clasp'd
The quiv'ring members of once boastful man. 1
Methought,
These strange vicissitudes too truly told
Of man's inconstancy, and well portray'd
The changing aspect of the human mind.
Be such my theme, though tremulous my flight. –
In time unknown, but, without doubt, remote,
Long ere the billows of the southern sea
Had forc'd the isles asunder, a frail bark
Convey'd across the main from Hawaikee
A wandering tribe. Arts, form, and language,
All combin'd, declare resemblance close
To the more northern Polynesian race.
Distinct from this, another class exists,

Which Australasian kindred clearly shews, 2
But never to the seat of power rise.
High reverence does the Mao'ri pay
To Mau'i and his brother, to whose skill
They owe the land's emergence from the deep.
E'Panu shares their love; his thoughtful care
The sweet Koomeera brought from distant shores.
Though mortals once, they now exist endow'd
With superhuman power.
No idol stains their creed, nor will they bend
The knee to aught but At'ua divine.
Essence immortal, immaterial shade!
Stooping to man's infirmity he takes.
In faith's extended view, material forms;
The flying cloud, the soaring bird, the dull
And sluggish lizard, each and all,
As fertile fancy suits, or need suggests. 3
With power infinite for good or ill,
Hovering around, existing, though unseen,
Are agencies ethereal, the souls
Of mortal men from bodies disenthrall'd.
The future, which to the mind enlarg'd
By reason's pure and bright effulgence
Bears compensation full for present woes,
And re-attunes the symphony of Heaven,
To them gleams darkly, if it gleam at all:
Their future but the present amplified.
Their joys the same, their sorrows not unlike
The keen emotions of the passing hour.

Th'enfranchis'd spirit "does but dive in death,
"Dives from the sun in fairer day to rise,
"The grave his subterranean road to bliss."
No longer to earth's surface closely bound,
It springs aloft, and swiftly cleaves its way
To where the north cape bold confronts the sea,
Thence plunging into the depths unfathomable,
The monsters of the deep, affrighted, yield
A ready passage to a neighb'ring isle.
Emerging thence its essence it divides,
Each part embody'ng in a mortal eye,
The one remains terrestrial joys to seek,
And revel in the luxuries of war;
The other, free as ether, upward bounds,
And in the galaxy of heaven's orbs,
Assumes its place a bright and glitt'ring star.
But not on all is such a noble end
Conferr'd; this destiny divine is given
To chiefs alone; the common herd
Existing, die; and, dying, never rise.
Such were the thoughts of God and man they brought
From distant lands: such the cheerless hope
To nerve the heart in danger's troubled hour,
Its guide in doubt, its solace in despair,
And in the fearful agonies of death
Its rod, its staff, its stingless victory. – 4
But to return. Borne on the gentle wings
Of favouring winds, full many an hour,
And many an anxious day had pass'd

In dark conjecture: oft the straining eye
Had swept the wide expanse, and pierc'd the gloom
That mantled night; oft the eye upturn'd
Had gaz'd on Pleiades, their chieftain's home,
Imbibing from their mild and steady light
A soothing hope, a calm reposing faith.
No frowning cloud, nor exhalation dense,
The pure transparency of heaven dimm'd;
The stars in all their brilliancy divine
In ether swam; the planets glittering
Figurately spoke of life's alternate shade;
The rising moon, enrob'd in roseate hues,
Impatient leap'd the boundaries of earth,
And with a rich and lavish hand bestow'd
Its clear and silv'ry beams on all around.
Omen auspicious, harbinger of peace. –
Far in the distant west, a lurid light
Bursts on the astonished view; silent
They gaze, and each from each inquiring asks,
By rapid interchange of speechless thought,
Whence comes this strange appearance? They gaze,
From Cynthia rising in the distant east
T"ward th' opposing west, and fancy paints
In glowing tints a cloud reflecting back
Its borrowed beams. Bright and brighter still
The meteor shines with intermitting light,
While o'er the main reverberating sounds
Are tremulously borne. Hours onward roll.
The moon her zenith reach'd; with haste declin'd,

And parts the briny wave; night reassumes
Her dark domain, and clouds of sable hue
Obscure the brightness of the host of heav'n.
Thoughts, emulous of Nature's dreary garb,
Enthrall the mind and ev'ry ray expunge. –
Dominion short retain'd. The rising sun
Gleams 'mid dissolving clouds, and richly tints
The snow-capp'd tops of distant central hills;
While, not remote, in liquid fire involv'd,
With fierce and deaf'ning shout, and breathing steam
From ev'ry pore vast Rangitoto foams.
Leaving its sulphur cones behind, they steer
T' wards the north, where, with fascinating smile,
The Bay of Islands undulating slopes,
Clad in the verdant hue of early spring.
Scarce had they leap'd from off their fragile bark
Than on their bended knees, with grateful hearts,
They pour the notes of deep impassion'd praise;
Recalling all the watchful care, the love
Divine, which, 'mid the ocean's trackless waste,
Had safely guided to a land of rest.
A council quickly form'd as quick decides
The land to search; they start by diverse routes;
And quick return. The forest dark and dense
No passage gives; festoon'd and interloop'd
In ev'ry form, at ev'ry varying height,
The treach'rous parasite declines to yield:
Below, a tangled web of mesh-like roots
Arrests the steps, and all advance denies.

One pair alone, dauntless and undeterr'd,
Their weary way pursue, and southward trend
Until they reach the liquid chain of springs
To fury lash'd by fierce internal flame.
Affrighted they return, their perils tell,
And tell of wonders passing human thought.
Deep in the dark recesses of the wood
Mistrustful, though alone; or perch'd aloft
On overhanging hills; or screen'd beneath
The green mosaic, might, at times be seen,
Though but as a vision of the night,
Forms much akin to human, but, in height
The height of man exceeding, with coat of hair,
And arms prolong'd; traditionally view'd,
As ruined relics of a bygone race.
Amid the lofty pines, or, on the edge
Of mountain streams, gigantic bipeds brows'd
To whom in size the ostrich, now supreme,
Can scarce compare. Gliding through brake and reed,
In solitary gloom, strange reptiles roam'd,
The fabled dragon scarce less awe inspired. 5
Fain would I linger here and lightly sketch
Conjecture's dim surmise, from whence and when
These races sprang; and tell of one vast land
Of which the South Sea Isles but fragments are
Of lofty Alpine ranges deep submerged.
But other scenes invite, and scenes on which
My mind untrammell'd fondly loves to dwell. –
Unnoted centuries pass; Man proudly claims

By right divine, dominion o'er the beast,
And they, by instinct taught, allegiance yield,
Their haunts desert, and scarcely leave a trace
To mark they once were masters of the land.
Man occupies the void thus timely made,
And reigns supreme amid its hills and dales.
Would that he rightly viewed the power thus gain'd
And turned his strength to subjugate the beast;
But once the warlike spirit roused, he spurns
The gentle arts of peace, and slothful gleans
The earth's spontaneous fruits; the hunter's fire,
Insatiate burns against his fellow man. –
The human tide now ebbs towards decay. –
Strangers from distant climes the ocean plough
In mighty ships and anchor off the coast.
The gallant Cook unfurls the British flag
And claims, as civilization ever claims
Against a barbarous race, a prior right;
This right he pressed, not at the cannon's mouth,
But by the kindly offices of love.
Such friendly acts were not without effect,
And promise gave of rich and plenteous fruit.
But, as the smallest spark may raise a flame
That oceans cannot quench; so, one rash word
From Furneaux's crew, or one misconstrued act
Inflamed their slumbering ire; the past,
With all its kindly feelings, is forgot,
And man, embruted, revels deep in blood. –
Again I take my stand, and gaze intent

On passing scenes. – Whence comes that piercing shriek?
Whence rise those feeble moans? is that the cry
Of woman's agony? – Alas! too true.
The sound falls dead on unresponding hearts,
And not a chord vibrates to mercy's call.
Strange contrast this. When first we view'd the coast,
A prostrate feeble tribe our vision met
In grateful adoration lowly bent;
But now, within that circling host there lies
A quiv'ring corpse, clasp'd in the puny arms
Of helpless infancy; while, with downcast
Eyes and frenzied look, fast bound to trees
Contiguous to the spot, are swarthy men
Who oft have "braved the battle and the breeze,"
And ne'er have quail'd before their fellow man.
They view the crackling flame, the scarce cold limbs
Asunder torn; and fear, before unknown,
Usurps their minds. Their respite short indeed;
The war-club gleams on high, and swiftly falls
On their devoted heads; the stranded ship
In desolation weeps, amid its shrouds
The howling gale a requiem sadly sings. – -

1 The Lake of Taupo is situated in the centre of the northern island of New Zealand, and at about the middle of the line of volcanic and igneous action. In the immediate neighbourhood are the volcanoes of Ruapahu and Tongariro, the former of which is extinct. Thermal springs are in great abundance, as are also miniature volcanic ranges formed by the mud and sand ejected by them. A space of two square miles is represented by Dr. Dieffenbach as covered by these springs, the whole area being separated by a thin crust from subterranean caverns. Nothing daunted however by so dangerous a proximity, the natives use the boiling water for cooking their food, and not unfrequently pay the penalty of their temerity by a hot bath of an undesirable temperature. The lakes Rotu-Mahana, and Roturu'a, are represented as surpassingly beautiful, especially the former, which is considered to present one of the grandest views that can well be conceived. Tongariro, so often mentioned in this narrative, is about 7000 feet in height, its cone, according to Mr. Bidwell, springing 1500 feet from a hollow amphitheatre; around are magnificent mountains with snow-capped tops, having the peculiar perpendicularity of side characteristic of New Zealand hills. Tongariro has been subsequently examined by Mr. Dyson, who has lately ascended it despite its being tap'ued. On both occasions the ascent was made without the knowledge of the natives. The rivers Whanganu'i and Waikat'o take their rise in this neighbourhood.

2 The meagreness of our information respecting the origin of the islands of New Zealand, and of their antiquity, fortunately does not involve the necessity of our accepting the poetic fiction of the Mao'ri who asserts that they are indebted to Mau'i and his brother for having hooked them, while engaged in piscatory recreations, from the bottom of the sea.

It has been supposed that the vast congeries of islands lying in the South Pacific were at one time united in a widely extended continent, amid whose valleys those gigantic bipeds roamed of whose existence the fossil deposits of New Zealand afford such abundant evidence; and that the present islands are but the lofty ranges which intersected it, or the peaks which stood boldly forth from its surface. The appearance of some fossil beds in very nearly the same level on the northern shore of Cook's Straits and the south eastern coast of the middle island, would indicate, according to an eminent geologist, that these islands, at a period antecedent to man's appearance on them, were united, their separation having been apparently effected either by volcanic action, strong oceanic currents, or the heavy gales which blow transversely across them. The Ma'oris have a tradition that their ancestors came in two canoes from the eastward, one party doubling the North Cape, while the other settled on the eastern shore. Whatever truth there may be in this, it is certain that they are of Malay extraction. Migration evidently started from the westward; and whether it advanced step by step, and island by island, to New Zealand; or across Behring's Straits and thence southerly down the Continent of America and across to Eastern Island where it reached the eastern limits of the east winds; or stretched at once towards the Sandwich Islands and thence southerly, it is impossible to decide; the difficulties attending each supposition have been smoothed down by their respective advocates, and the plausibilities eloquently enlarged on.

Perhaps one of the most extraordinary customs existing among the New Zealanders is their mode of saluting friends by rubbing noses; the custom is not, however, confined to these islands, for, in the remote north, at Hotham's inlet, in latitude 66.48 north and 160.30 west, Commander Maguire, of H. M.'s Ship Plover, writes thus of an Esquimaux Chief: – "He afterwards passed his hand down his stomach several times expressive of great friendship, and then fixed his forehead against mine, and used it as a fulcrum to rub noses several

times, a ceremony not very agreeable in his heated state from singing." If this extract present a curious coincidence between two races so remote from each other, a no less striking coincidence maybe observed in some other points between the New Zealander and the North American Indians. Miss Bremer in her late work, "The Homes of the New World," which I had the pleasure of perusing after these pages had gone to press, has the following remarks: –

"The Indian grave was a chest of bark laid upon a couple of planks supported by four posts standing underneath a tree golden with autumnal tints. It is thus that the Indians dispose of their dead, till the flesh is dried off the bones, when these are interred either in the earth or in caves with funeral dances and songs."

The Indians "believe that the spirit after death still lingers for a time near those earthly precincts which it had just left, and that it continued to be still, in a certain manner, akin to earth; that it wanders over vast plains in the clear cold moonlight; and finally it arrives at a great chasm in the earth, on the other side of which lies the land of the blessed, where there is an eternal spring and rich hunting grounds abundantly supplied with game. The Indian's idea of reward and punishment after death is merely the reflex of their earthly joys and misfortunes. They believe in a spirit of spirits called Manitou, who is without peculiar moral attributes; in a number of lesser divinities; in a transformed divinity in the forest, in stones, or animals. They seek to propitiate Manitou by gifts and sacrifices. The mediators between themselves and Manitou are their so called medicine men, who by means of the knowledge of the mysteries of nature and the power of magic are considered able to invoke spirits, to avert misfortunes, to heal sickness, and to obtain the fulfilment of human wishes. These men are highly esteemed among the Indians, and are both their priests and physicians." As regards religion, they are represented as unwilling to "listen to a doctrine which is diametrically opposed to that which constitutes their heathenish virtue and happiness."

I almost imagined, when reading these passages, that I had inadvertently taken up a volume on New Zealand, for even the language here used bears occasionally a close resemblance to that which has been employed in the text, or in these notes. There appears even to the ordinary observer of the present day two distinct classes of inhabitants in New Zealand, the one, in intellectual developement and physical conformation, approaching the European, and designated according to Dr. Dieffenbach, Ma'ori (Aboriginal); the other evidently of Mongolian extraction, having the dark complexion, full lip, prominent cheek bone, and curly hair of the negro; while, a third class is spoken of by the author of a "Leaf from the Natural History of New Zealand" as, in the opinion of the natives, still residing in the central mountain ranges, and viewed by them as relics of the sparsely scattered inhabitants who formerly occupied the soil. Native tradition tells of three distinct immigrations; perhaps represented by these distinct classes. It is worthy of note, that the Mongolian class, though not permitted to become chiefs, are not regarded as inferior, or in the same degraded light that the present Australian negroes are.

It is sufficient for the present purpose to state, that the existence of tattoing or a disfiguring scarification of the skin, of circumcision in some of the islands, of the immolation of the wife on the death of her husband as in Tiger island, of human sacrifices on a chieftain's demise, of chewing betel, of a similarity in the names of trees, of a similitude in physical conformation, of tabooing or making holy persons and things, and of their language, all combine to fix a close affinity between the Ma'ori and the Sandwich Islanders, who equally claim Maui and his brother as important characters in their history, and generally with the Malayan race as particularly exemplified, according to Mr. Nicholas, in the fact of the three chief divinities of the Batta Tribe of Sumatra and of the New Zealanders having precisely the same functions ascribed to them.

3 "Whatever may have been the simple elementary truths which the New Zealanders brought with them in their immigration, oral tradition, for they had no other medium of communication", has most signally failed in transmitting any clear conception of them to the present generation. A fact of so much significancy may well rivet our affection to that inspired record which exhibits, at the present moment, as well defined a transcript of the Divine Mind as our ancestors of bygone centuries possessed. The current of truth flows to us undiluted by human invention and undistorted through human infirmity; and we need not, in order fully to understand its sacred page, either the testimony of even the holiest men, though contemporaneous with the early Church, or the commentaries of living expositors, though such testimony as historic evidence, and such comments as elucidatory of ancient manners and customs have, their highly important uses. Could one of the pilgrim Fathers, who centuries since landed in New Zealand, ascertain the religions faith of the present generation of his descendants, we might easily conjecture his astonishment on learning its imputed parentage. Mr. Nicholas, as quoted by the author of the "New Zealander," represents the present inhabitants as believing that a Triune Deity co-operated in the creation of man; and that the woman "Hevee" (Eve) was formed by a rib taken from man; combining this belief with their custom of infant baptism by sprinkling, and the continuance of the soul for three days with the body of a deceased person, we may reasonably imagine that if we could trace back this faith and practice to the fountain head, we should at length arrive at the Bible as the source from whence they sprang. It appears that a deity termed At'ua is, or rather was, a general object of religious veneration; he is considered to be immaterial in his nature but capable of assuming material forms; unlike the Christian's God, he is represented as chiefly exercising himself in the infliction of evil, and, being endowed with omnipotence and omnipresence, is a constant source of terror. His attributes have been deified, and though supplication will in the hour of need be addressed to such subordinate deities, still it is urged that prayer is not made to them, as the mind passes beyond and centres itself in the First great Cause, and to Him alone is prayer offered, even though a visible material object or an invisible conception be the medium of approach. A similar justification is offered by the Heathen who bows down to wood and stone; it is hard to say that such a spiritual abstraction, as in the latter case of the two, may not exist. It is also believed that occasionally a particular deity takes up his residence in a chief; while deceased chieftains have been admitted into the order of deities. However, we have an eminent authority for the assertion, that if image worship or idolatry did at all exist, it was confined to the neighbourhood of the Whanganui river alone.

4 If obscurity he the characteristic of the ideas entertained of the Deity by the New Zealanders, their notions respecting man and his destiny are equally clouded. It appears to be a pretty general belief that immortality is confined to the higher classes alone, the lower perishing as the beasts of the field; and that the soul has a complex existence, being embodied in the eyes, the left, in particular, being highly distinguished and finally assuming a position in the heavens. This immortality appears to be susceptible of annihilation (a species of mortal immortality), should the left eye be eaten. The departed soul in one or other of its divided essences, or as an undivided invisible spirit, is capable of operating either for the benefit or injury of mankind.

5 Judging from the appearance of the central parts of the northern island, where almost impenetrable forests, extending for 60 or 70 miles, still exist, and from the surface soil of most of the hills in the middle island, we can have no difficulty in accepting the native tradition that the country was formerly covered with continuous forests of gigantic trees. Mr. Mantell, applying the scale of proportions given by Professor Owen to some bones discovered in New Zealand, is of opinion that gigantic bipeds at one time existed in great numbers throughout the country, some of which were 10 or even 12 feet high, exceeding by one third the height of the tallest ostrich. Tradition also speaks of lizards of an enormous size having formerly existed, and it is also affirmed that a species of wild man inhabited the Tararu'a range, who is described to have been as tall as a man, covered with long hair, and as having very long arms.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER II.

We pause,
But time unintermitting onwards flows.
What hear we now? The demoniac yell
Of hostile tribes, exciting deeds of blood?
What see we? The madd'ning dance, fierce war's
Worse stimulus, inebriating draught?
Far other sounds break on the astonish'd ear,
Far other sight attracts the wand'ring eye.
A star has set far in the western world, 6
The magi's star here sheds its beams divine.
A holy man, by christian love constrain'd,
In christian armour clad, aloud proclaims
A Father's gushing tenderness towards
Poor, guilty, helpless man. A Saviour's love,
All love transcending, forms his lofty theme.
Enraptur'd with the thought, he speaks in tones
Attun'd in heaven of sympathy divine,
And of the Spirit's never-failing grace.
Millions have bow'd their haughty heads,
Deep in the dust, at such seraphic strains;
Fetters of more than adamantine cast
Have snapp'd, as steel, when gently touch'd by love.
The bigot's icy heart, which never felt
A human throb, nor ever utterance gave
To human sigh, affection's zero,
Hatred's deepest depths, has quickly thaw'd

Beneath the concentrated glance of love
From the coequal coeternal Three. –
'Tis not for man to preordain the time
Of man's redemption. The land to plough
Is his, the seed to sow and tend, and then
Expectant wait the increase from above.
Year after year rolls on. The man of blood
Disdains submission to the Prince of Peace.
A heav'n where love supremely reigns, where
War's alarms are never heard, within whose
Gates revenge no aliment can find,
Is but a heaven in name. – Ten autumns
Have unfruitfulpass'd, so man concludes.
The seed, 'tis true, no vegetative life
Evolves, but like the wheaten grain encas'd
In Egypt's mummy vaults, it only needs
The light, the moisture, and the genial warmth,
Kind Heav'n's gifts, to fructify and wave
Its golden harvests to the glowing sun.
Can we, uncertain tenants of a day,
Fathom the plans of an Eternal Mind?
Can we, whose feeble sense can scarcely grasp
The fleeting trifles of the passing hour,
Can we embrace Eternity's vast schemes?
Unravel all its dark complexities?
Originate the laws which matter guide?
And solve the metaphysics of the mind?
If these within our ken, then let us soar
And gaze on Deity, presumptuous gaze,

And, by the dazzling brightness of His beams,
Be headlong dash'd beyond the realms of light. –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – If to the heart
These tidings of great joy no kindred joy
Impart, they to the eager mind suggest
Ambitious thoughts of vast extended pow'r.
A chief, in war renown'd, in treachery
Without a peer, and, in the dark designs
Of ruthless cruelty, pre-eminently great,
With eagle eye discerns, at once adopts,
The proffer'd means to long deferr'd success.
E'Hongi is content to learn: to sit
At wisdom's feet, and her bright rays imbibe,
The luxury of war to disallow,
And follow in the gentle paths of peace.
With such a purpose, e'en though rolling waves
Tumultuous intervene, e'en though clouds
Of darkest hue portentous hang, the mind,
In firm resolve fast bound, defies them all,
And with fix'd gaze its deep laid schemes pursues.
Bidding adieu to all his heart holds dear,
Except ambition, to Britain's shores
He sails. Almost engulph'd by roaring gales
His thoughts unmov'd remain: his spirit chaf'd
By rude affront, and ribald jest, or stung
By threats of violence, which would at home
Have wak'd within his darkly brooding breast
A thousand echoes, no emotion shows.
The Thames displays in vain her countless fleets,

The city's matchless wonders pass in vain
Before his eyes; for him there is no charm
In glist'ning jewel nor in dazzling gold.
Coldly he views the wond'rous skill of art,
Impassive hears of science' lofty flights,
One thing alone arrests his thoughts, absorbs
His very soul; the implements of war.
With more than savage cunning he discerns
The peaceful tenor of the British mind,
And speaks of earnest hopes to reproduce,
In his own island home, a faint reprint
Of those ennobling scenes which here delight.
To aid in such a cause who can refuse?
Or who withhold when urg'd by such a plea?
With lavish hand the richest gifts are pour'd,
Not unaccompanied by voice of prayer.
His object gain'd, E'Hongi reembarks
And, bartering on Australasian ground,
Without remorse, without a passing pang,
The costly gifts which British zeal bestow'd,
He springs ashore, exulting in the thought
Of savage hosts in bloody strife supreme.
Annihilating time, he quick convenes
A general meeting of the neighbouring chiefs,
Recalls the past to mind; impassioned
Dwells on ills received, or fancied wrongs;
Each chief reminds of absent friends fast bound
In bonds, whose every link is studied wrong;
Hopeless, or worse, resign'd; or, if they hope,

'Tis in the thought of slow but sure revenge;
Recounts his dangers; tells, with quiv'ring voice
And agitated frame, of ceaseless griefs,
To gain their common end, in silence borne;
Exposes to their view war's deadly arms,
And frantically calls for blood: nor calls
In vain. One universal yell proclaims
Impatience of delay.
No need to trace their route, 'tis stamp'd by deeds
Of blood and desolation's dreary forms:
The smould'ring pah, the plunder'd field,
The bones of slaughter'd foes, each and all
Their tale of woe too plainly tell. – But why
That mournful wail? that sound of doubtful joy?
'Tis not the tone of triumph unalloyed.
Two chiefs of high renown have bit the dust.
E'Hongi's daughter mourns a husband slain:
His brother, too, has quench'd his soul in death;
And one of equal note, gorged to the full,
Like rav'nous bird of prey, with human flesh,
In agony expires. To pierce, a heart
Which nothing yet had pierc'd, from which each woe
Had fruitlessly recoil'd, the youthful widow,
Deaf to her infant's cry, and still more deaf
To reason's voice, by suicidal hands
A victim falls to custom's tyrant law. 7
Brooding o'er self-inflicted ills, E'Hongi
To bend disdains, and for revenge prepares.
A year is added to the past; but years

In ordinary minds could scarce condense
The venom which to his one year can yield;
Heading his sanguinary hosts he dyes
The tracks of blood with concentrated ire;
The lightning's path not more defin'd appears.
Avenging Heaven stays his mad career,
And aids, as ever aid it will, the hand
Uprais'd to rid, by honest means, the earth
Of those whose daily meal is human woe.
The fatal ball, by angel's hand impell'd,
Though visibly by man's, leaves but a wreck
Of hatred's fierce and dark embodiment.
The reed on which he lean'd has pierc'd his side.
With slow and measur'd tread he's homeward borne
Without parade, for freely flows his blood;
But niggard vengeance firmly holds her own.
He gloats on future raids, and only lives
To pour the vials of envenom'd wrath,
And slake the thirst of fierce malignity.
'Tis otherwise ordain'd. The fest'ring wound,
Ere many lustrums pass, decides his fate.
Death rends the veil which human passion wove;
Ambition flutt'ring grovels in the dust.
The filmy eye scarce sees the circling chiefs
Who breathlessly await his parting words:
He speaks not of revenge; but, to their care,
Commends the holy men who speak of peace. 8
What then the trophies gained in vengeful war?
The spoils obtain'd by deeds of darkest dye?

Naught but his fellow man, precarious prize.
How sweet to dwell remote from human strife
And scrutinize the ways of God with man;
To trace them to their end, and try each link
The chain of observation yields. All, all
Are wisdom's highest flights, in union close
With love divine, ineffable, supreme.
The wily savage trapp'd in his own snare.
The misdirected wealth of Britain's sons
Arrested, and by metamorphis strange
Turn'd into weapons of most deadly war;
And then, by alchymy divine, these arms
Produce and vivify the seeds of peace. –
– – – – – – – – – – – Methinks I hear
The distant village chimes, exulting, ring
A friend's return from o'er the circling sea.
But what those cadences, of earth not born,
Which blend in such affecting harmony,
And to the mind ecstatic sounds convey?
They flow from angels' lips, spontaneous
Flow, while they, in melody sublime,
Announce to list'ning hosts the joyful fact,
All facts surpassing, that a soul is glean'd
From Satan's fields, a weak and wand'ring lamb
Restor'd and folded in the Saviour's arms.
If angels' hearts rejoice at such a sight,
And heaven rings with sweetest notes of praise,
How does hebear the sight, whose ceaseless pray'r
Has reach'd the throne of grace, and there receiv'd

Devotion's promis'd and most sure reward?
Does he with pride record his toil, his cares,
And speak of nights of watchfulness and pain?
Far other thoughts preoccupy his mind;
His head is bow'd, his voice the voice of praise,
While to the God of mercies he ascribes
This miracle of love. Hope sprung from faith,
And by experience prov'd, upholds
And cheers him in his lonesome track; –
A faith, the evidence of things unseen,
The substance realiz'd of things desir'd.
Though few the sheaves he gathers to his breast
In each succeeding year, still view'd by faith's
Illumin'd eye, prophetically view'd,
He sees the rip'ning fields, and, ardent, asks
Of Britain's sons to aid him in his work.
Nor asks in vain. They who never blanch'd
Before a foe, nor ever backward turn'd'
In ignominious flight before disease;
Nor quail'd before the fiercely blazing pile,
Nor recantation read in torture's
Troubled hour, no hesitation now evince;
Their hearts within them burn, as each to each
Recalls the past experience of the Church,
And views the seed, more plentifully sown,
In verdure mantling earth's dry russet face. –

6 The overthrow of Napoleon is here referred to.

7 Though the Mao'ri widow is at liberty to marry again after her late husband's bones have been duly scraped and deposited in their final resting place, still the widow of a chief not infrequently prefers accompanying her husband to the world of spirits, and suicide on such occasions is esteemed meritorious. This and such like practices are fast becoming as a tale that is told.

8 There was at least one redeeming feature in E'Hongi's character, viz, the protection which he invariably extended towards the Missionaries, as more particularly shown in his dying recommendations. One absorbing passion appears to have smothered the kindlier emotions, which, nevertheless, would occasionally exhibit themselves. According to Mr. Clarke, floods of tears would escape his eyes when parting for a short time from a favourite son; while, according to the testimony of another person, who had good opportunities for observation, he was one of the most ferocious cannibals in the country, and certainly one of the most merciless desolators that ever existed.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER III.

– – – – – – – -Again we pause. –
What multitudes are these which throng the path
So lately trod by men deep dyed in blood?
What sounds are these whose solemn notes contrast
So strangely with the tones which once we heard?
Why this elastic step? this buoyant look?
This living joy in ev'ry thought and act?
Oh! for a thousand hearts in freedom bath'd,
A thousand tongues with eloquence divine,
Fully to feel, and fitly to describe
The thrilling sentiments of boundless joy
Which vivify, irradiate, consume,
The slave to freedom given, to home restor'd.
O what astounding miracle was this
Of Christian love; what responsive beat
Of hearts belov'd by love's embodiment!
Themselves set free from fetters forg'd in hell
They could not, dare not, hold their brethren bound;
Freely had they receiv'd and freely gave;
No compensation sought nor e'en desir'd;
'Twas love's spontaneous gift. When Britons,
Once benighted, firmly held in iron grasp
Her slaves by millions; when eloquence
Of more than mortal pow'r had ceaseless thrown
Her polish'd shafts of deeply reason'd thought;
And when for years the good and wise had toil'd

In freedom's cause, and almost toil'd in vain,
Forth went the edict, that where'er the flag,
Whose cross is dyed in blood, wav'd in the breeze,
The slave was free and fetters were unknown.
'Twas not a doubtful act, a partial deed,
If Afric's sons receiv'd from Britain's hands
Their restituted rights, their vested claims,
No taint of wrong the noble act defac'd;
Her coffers yield a compensation full,
And rigid justice holds a balanc'd scale. –
But, let us join the throng, in silence walk
Observing, unobserv'd. Experienced
Though we be in Christian truth, and vers'd
In liberty's most perfect law, perchance
A sound may reach our ear, a thought occur,
Rekindling faith, revivifying love.
Among the host is one whose massive brow,
And deeply seated eye, and lofty mien,
Instinctively attract; his snow-white locks
Wave in the balmy breeze: his trembling hand
Fast holds a beauteous child, remaining link
Of earth's affection, concentrated beam
Of all that once illumin'd and endear'd.
Though full six hundred miles, a weary way,
Stretch forth between him and his childhood's home,
No dark foreboding dulls his lustrous eye,
For, bound in truth's bright panoply, he leaves
The morrow's care to One who cares for him.
Diverging from their route, are joyful bands

Who live on Waiho's banks; or dwell hard by
Where Rotoru'a's lake by boiling springs
Encircled lies: or, where, piercing the chain
Of lofty hills, a stream convulsive flows
Towards the south. Passing by Taupo's lake,
But circling round when night's dark shades are cast
On all below, the old man, now alone,
Pursues his way, absorb'd in thought. How oft
He glances looks of tenderness and love
On her who follows hard the lonely track,
At times but dimly seen from tangled roots
Or wide extended trees, or emerald fern;
How carefully he breaks the pendant bough,
And bears her scatheless through the deep morass,
Her heart enliv'ning by some merry tale,
Or soothing by some act' of beaming love.
– – – – – – – – Just as the setting sun
On Tongariro sheds his parting ray
They reach the summit of the lofty hills,
Beneath which flows, like molten silver stream,
The far fam'd Whanganu'i. The old man
Bows his head, in deep dejection cast:
Tears course their way along that furrow'd cheek,
And bursting sighs escape that heaving breast
As he recalls the past, and dimly views
The ruin'd relics of his happy home.
A gentle call, a mild and loving glance
The spell dissolves. Entwin'd in fond embrace
The tablets of the mind are reeras'd

And, from his ruin'd to his heav'nly home,
He turns in faith's sublime and calm repose.
With haste descending through a dark ravine
They reach the spot where once Petoni stood;
Glancing around they spy, not far remote,
The curling smoke, and soon they see reviv'd,
As if of old, the houses of their tribe.
Though many a year had pass'd, no less
Than centuries would suffice to wipe
From off the village mind Ewana's name;
In council, as in war, the proudest gave
Their willing homage; and, among the bands
Of merry buoyant youth, his smile was view'd
Their richest recompence, their best reward.
Seen by dim twilight's magnifying pow'r
He seem'd no denizen of earth; they gaze,
Affrighted yield, incredulous return.
The well known form when nearer view'd, the voice
Whose tuneful accents never fail'd to soothe,
Conviction bring. The distant hills receive
And quick transmit a welcome shout of joy.
Scarce leaving time for necessary meal,
And none for rest, they eagerly demand
Minute account of each succeeding year
Since that disastrous hour when first they turn'd
From overwhelming hosts, and, first, they ask
Of Erow's fate, and of his only child,
The lovely E'show. With quiv'ring voice
And agitated look he sternly tells

How in the thickest of the deadly fight
His brother's prowess bore down all around.
Each blow inflicting death, until, at length,
Exhausted nature fell an easy prey.
He tells, 'mid trickling tears in vain repell'd,
How E'show, resolutely bent in life or death
To be but one with him to whom she ow'd
Her birth, nay more, her momentary life,
Disdains to fly. A captive she becomes
To him by whom her father met his fate.
A pause ensues; but looks inquiring ask
For more details: he tremulously tells
Of E'show, deep in sorrow's darkest gloom,
Alone, 'mid strangers: the boisterous mirth
Of savage bands unheeded strike her ear;
Herself the destin'd bride of him than whom
Earth's vilest incarnation far more dear.
If any scene could move the human heart,
Subdue to softness, or inspire with love,
Such scene were here; but hearts there are 'gainst which
The waves of woe may beat, and beat in vain.
With feelings more than blunt, intensely dyed
In more than demon's cruelty refined,
The wretch, in passing, casts her father's head
Before her feet, and gloats upon the sight.
Oh! with what agony intense she clasps
The precious relic to her heaving breast,
What burning words of deep endearment flow
From out that bursting heart; what vivid looks

Of more than earthly love irradiate
Her now expressive face. But transient
As the warm sunny gleam, or lightning's flash
In winter's darkest hour which adds a shade
To densest gloom, so evanescent prov'd
Affection's loving gaze. Her heart had yet
One fearful shock to stand. T'annihilate
The soul and bar its passage to the sky,
Or with desire the glories to attain
Of him o'er whom he triumph'd, he, than brute
Far more degrad'd, the eyes removes,
And with a savage gluttony devours.
Arrested in its fall a crystal tear
Pendant from silken lash, like Cynthia
At her full in 'mid air gently poised,
Though unlike her, transparent, receives
From E'show's troubled eye the darken'd thought
Of deep malignity, and fiercely glares
A proud defiance and a deathless hate.
She views a shell hard by; with frantic rage
She grasps it firm; and, now, not e'en a trace
Of beauty's lovely lineaments remain;
The gaping wounds, the streaming scarlet blood
Too truly tell that sorrow's mimic farce
Has here proficient deep, and nerv'd the hand
To thwart the tyrant in his cherish'd plan. 9
No sound that list'ning crowd escapes; revenge,
For utterance too deep, pervades each breast.
Quitting the mournful theme he now narrates

The progress of the cross, no, not of it,
But Himwho died that man might ever live;
He tells the wond'rous tale that angels hear
And ceaselessly admire. When he recounts
A Triune God engag'd in forming man
He speaks in strict accordance with their faith.
And not less so, when he minutely tells
Of helpless infants' face by holy priest
With water freely sprinkl'd: and when they hear
That after three days pass'd in death's domain
The blessed Jesus burst his rock bound bonds,
Their minds recall the fact that they believe
The soul's emergence after three days' sleep
Beside its once associated clay. 10
Entranc'd they hang, enamour'd of the strain,
Upon his flowing words; intently watch
Emotion mirrour'd on his beaming face.
With rapid touch he tells how to the poor
The gospel tidings came with healing balm;
How proud disdainful chiefs the thought despis'd
Of such a heav'n, and scornfully decried
A soul subsisting on the fires of hell. 11
But, when he trac'd their haughty spirits bow'd
Beneath the Spirit's all subduing grace,
And portrait drew in glowing tints of slaves
Spontaneously releas'd from love to Him,
Who came to set the captive free; and prov'd
What instinct might have told had it to fight
With less than human foes, that 'mid the worlds

Unbounded space contains, one spot alone
Pre-emptive title has to fetter man,
The gloomy regions of sepulchral hell,
One hand alone the Captor's keys may hold
His, on whose neck the Saviour set his heel,
They list'ning, wond'ring, wept. – We pause;
Ourselves, and not our theme, exhausted rests;
For who can drain truth's fathomless abyss?
When man by Satan's aid, had well nigh hid
All elemental Christian truth beneath
An opaque mass of fond inventions;
When, film by film, he gradually obscur'd,
In sixteen centuries and more, the work
Which none but heaven's own Architect
Could have design'd and trac'd; when that blest Book,
The sun from which we light and life receive
As by an instrument divine, was found,
Not in the heart of man, its holy fane,
But buried deep beyond his longing search,
Its truant rays well tinted as they pass'd;
When hope had well nigh fled the human breast,
And dark despair sat brooding o'er the mind,
The fiat issued forth, the sun shone bright,
The tracery divine cast, off its coil,
And truth long hidden reassum'd its sway.
God interpos'd; and at His bidding rose
The printer's press, the mint where human thought
Its currency receives, than gold more dear:
Fragments of holy writ, whose priceless worth

Thought cannot compass, nor can speech express,
Were thus increas'd, and darkness fled dismay'd
Before the radiance of its heavenly light.
Once more we join the village throng and gaze
At early dawn, long ere the sun's bright beams
Had gilt the mountains' tops, Ewana kneels
Before the God of grace: no cold dull form
Of heartless pray'r, no visionary flight
Of undevelop'd thought escapes his lips;
The upturn'd eye, the earnest look, the tone
Of filial love with holy awe combin'd
Speak of a soul in commune with its God.
Rising, he now unfolds, with jealous care
From out it's triple well mark'd leaf
Of evangelic truth, and, while he reads,
The gaping crowd bewilder'd close around,
And, wondering, ask what cabalistic signs
Now fix his earnest gaze? He, replying, shows
How thought may thus in distant lands produce
Its thought coincident; how wisdom's words
From ages far remote may still retain
Their pristine truth; and how, by increase, feed
The longing myriads of benighted man. –
What thoughts are these which agitate the frame
Of yonder aged man who strains each nerve
To catch the fleeting sound; his years exceed
Probation's usual term; his sighing soul
Has sought in vain for rest, has often mourn'd
To mark tradition's ever changing voice;

Assurance, almost clasp'd, eludes his grasp,
And hope deferr'd has yielded to despair.
At length his feeble falt'ring voice ia heard,
"Oh that our sacred truths had been convey'd
"In symbols like to these, then had I known
"Beyond a doubt God's sacred will; but now
"The lengthen'd shades of even close me in;
"Strange fancies haunt my brain and dimly speak
"Of some resemblance in our warlike tribes
"To Israel's chosen race: but, reason fails:
"Oh for onesimple truth, onesingle fact."

9 In a previous note a sufficient reference has been made to the extraordinary custom of annihilating the immortality of the soul by devouring the left eye (see note 4). The numerous scars which disfigure the persons of the natives of New Zealand would surprise a stranger were he not acquainted with the prevailing habit of evidencing their feelings, or rather of imitating their existence, by cutting themselves with a sharp flint or shell until, the blood flows freely. A circumstance similar in all material points to that related, is described by Captain Cruize as having actually taken place in his presence.

10 An allusion has already been made to the triune co-operation in the creation of man (see note 3). Infant baptism was practised by the priest sprinkling the infant's face with a green branch dipped in water, an incantation being repeated during the operation: a neglect of this custom was regarded as likely to result in injurious consequences to the child. There is something strikingly beautiful in the popular belief that the soul when freed from the burthen of the flesh does not immediately forsake the inanimate clay, but hovers around its former fellow sufferer listening to what is said by the weeping relatives and friends. After death, according to Dr. Dieffenbach, the body is placed in a coffin amidst the foliage of a grove, where it remains for several months; it is then taken down, the bones well washed and cleaned, and finally deposited in a carved box, in form like a canoe, and placed on a column in the village, or in a hollow tree, a limestone cavern, some secret woodland retreat or chasm in a rock. These mausoleums are sometimes elaborately carved and exhibit considerable taste and skill.

11 The pursuits of the soul after death as represented in the Scriptures were quite unintelligible to the untutored mind of the Mao'ri. War and its excitements were his enjoyments on earth, and he could not conceive of any other in heaven: it was in vain the heaven of the Christian was described in glowing language, for he had nothing wherewith to guage its blessedness; and as for a state of punishment hereafter, the thought never entered his head. If the Deity were offended, temporal punishments might ensue, but with time its infliction would cease.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER IV.

COULD we but search the records of the land,
Or listen to the tale each village tells
Of such like scenes, well might we lowly bend
In solemn awe; well might our grateful hearts
With transport bound, and rais'd on well plum'd win
Anticipating view the thickening crop. –
Scowling eternal hate, one lies conceal'd
Beyond the ken of man, but ever near,
And nearest when we think him most remote;
His darken'd brow, fierce eye, and close press'd lip,
Firm resolution show and dark revenge;
Trembling with rage he calls his chiefs around

And points to inroads made on his domain;
Demands to know in whose especial care
These fields were plac'd; and why, when seed was sown
By One, whose very name he loathes to speak,
The ever ready tares were not well strew'd?
Cursing their sloth, as devils only curse,
He sent them forth at once to reassume
His rightful sway; to stir the heathen's rage;
The wav'ring scare; and, if allegiance,
Sweetest draught of all, be still denied,
The saint to torture, persecute, and slay.
Full well the mission thriv'd; with lightning's speed
They fly towards the north and rearouse
The dormant fires, which else, had smould'ring died.
Infuriately blind, tribe fights with tribe,
E'en though they worship at one hateful shrine.
Vain were the efforts made by holy men
To stay the plague and stem the rising storm;
Victorious hosts unheeding hear their cry,
Proffer a share of their unhallow'd feast,
And grasping by the hair their victims' heads
In proud defiance hurl them to the ground.
If, on the coast such wrathful feelings rage
Where Christian light had shed its truthful rays,
How dark must be the ire, how deep the hate,
Within theirbreasts, who, hearing day by day
Of vast secessions to the Christian faith,
Were fearful lest the concentrated light
Of circling truth should pierce their darken'd home.

Once thoroughly alarm'd no time was lost
In vain and idle talk. Tribes quickly arm'd,
And in confederation close engaged,
To sweep with desolation's bloody hand
From Whanganu'i to mount Egmont's coast.
Though skill'd in strategy's most subtle art
They care not now their movements to disguise,
But march in all the pomp and pride of war.
Cleaving their way through intervening woods
They reach a narrow gorge through lofty hills
And not remote from whence, 'mid rapids, flows
The Whanganu'i's noble stream. 'Twas here
The threat'ned Christians had in council met,
And here they vow'd to hold their faith or die.
Though now the soldiers of the Prince of Peace,
Their ancient fires were kindl'd, and they long'd
To prove that though unwilling to attack,
No hand should chain the freedom of their minds,
No hostile step pollute their hearth and home.
Right well the vow they kept. In vain the waves
Infuriate lash the palisadoed gorge,
In vain they lavishly expend their blood
In fierce assault; entrench'd by faith and art
The Christians stand unblanch'd and undismay'd.
Wearied at length the heathen quit the field,
And homeward bend their steps in deep despair. –
'Tis not in human power at once to quench
The fiercely blazing flame, to stay the wind,
And bid the raging billows rest in peace.

Deaf to the pleading voice of him through whom
They gain'd admission to the Christian fold,
These converts of a day, by passion blind,
In haste pursue and ruthlessly destroy.
– – – – – – – – – Five years elapse. –
Revenge, which sleeps, but never dies, awakes.
Close to the southern end of Taupo's lake,
'Mid clust'ring hills there lies a smiling vale
By name Te Rapa – to its chief is giv'n
By universal voice the high command
To organize a force and lead the host
Against their former foes. Te Heu Heu shews
A willing mind for such congenial work;
His energies revive the dormant tribes,
And at his call they rallying hopeful throng.
One chief I see in silent thought absorb'd
Before a human head, which once was part
Of brother dearly lov'd, who fighting fell
When last they southward march'd; he deeply drinks
Of hate's intoxicating draught; imbibes
Its very dregs, and, then, as if to fill
The measure of his wrath, if aught remain
Unfill'd, he leaves his home and stands erect
Before another head, by foe once own'd,
Conspicuous plac'd on high to feed
Undying hate, if nurture it require. – 12
But let us turn to more congenial scenes.
Beneath that roof lies one whom death has claim'd
As lawful prize; her voice and shrunken eye

Too truly tell that life is on the wing.
"Words from such lips are sermons from the grave."
"Go, Erow, go and leave me here to pine,
"And weeping die; for never yet our tribe
"One recreant warrior shew'd. I know,
"Beyond a doubt, that ere your hosts return
"My spirit will have fled; to what abode
"I ceaselessly inquire. Yon slave you brought
"When last you southward march'd has spoken words
"Which instinct tells me are the words of truth.
"If others' instinct similarly tell,
"Then why this coalition? why conspire
"To smother nature's voice? to chain the mind
"Which God himself has left without a bond?
"'Tis not for man, though he be priest or peer,
"Or both combin'd, to circumscribe the bounds
"Of man's belief. To God he stands or falls.
"But why that starting tear? I will not urge
"What I but dimly see. Our God, and more,
"The God of grace be with you, and from ill
"Protect. One thing I will that thou would'st grant
"Before I die; if prostrate Christian foe
"Thy mercy crave for my sake pardon, shield;
"Because his faith is your own Hu'ia's faith.
"Death has no terror, life no joys for me;
"No joys unshar'd by thee, deserve the name;
"No sorrow sooth'd by thee can long invade,
"Let all around be dark as midnight gloom
"If thou art nigh the sun shines bright as noon.

"No burden for my strength too great, but one,
"To see theesuffer; thatwere load indeed.
"May be, and oh if ever prayer avail,
"Be this the one, that we may meet again
"In such a heav'n as Christian truth reveals."
– – – – – – – – – -The morning dawns,
And quickly range the gath'ring host beside
Their noble chief. With war club and with spear
The mass are arm'd, but to a chosen few
Is giv'n the deadly dread inspiring gun.
The women slaves bring up the rear; each groans
Beneath a load which freemen scarce could bear.
And each before her drives, unwilling guest
By chord attach'd, a member of that race
Whose name is never heard in sober song.
They had, as usual, intimation sent
By mutual friend, of their intended march,
And vow'd, that though the gorge were fully mann'd,
Or mountains filled the gap, their blood should sweep
Obstructions clear, and leave an open path
For long deferr'd but dearly cherish'd wrath. –
They reach'd the fatal spot whence they recoil'd,
But see no signs of hostile force array'd
To bar advance. They send forth scouts to search.
Who, under cover of the gloom of night,
Pass through the narrow gorge, and then behold,
Screen'd by a belt of trees, their foes entrench'd
On rising ground. Cautious though they mov'd
The wakeful sentry caught their rustling tread,

And loudly o'er the distant hills and vales
The war gong sounds its dull and heavy note.
Te Heu Heu forthwith sends a trusty guard
To hold the gorge; or, if by foes possess'd,
To seize the flanking heights, and holding these,
With steady aim to ply the deadly ball.
The scouts retrace their steps with breathless haste,
And tell of forces sent to gain the pass.
Erow, on whom devolv'd the envied post
Of leading the advance, with hurried pace
Ascends the narrow path and plants his troop
The entrance to command. Scarce had they breath'd
Than out the forest shade with stealthy tread
A Christian warrior moves to watch the foe;
No sooner seen than quiv'ring on the plain.
Scarce had the ball its fearful errand told
Than swarming hosts by Heu Heu led advance,
And like the rushing wind, whirl through the gorge,
And pour within the forest's friendly gloom.
Secure, they fell the lofty pine and form
A palisadoed front toward the south:
Short time is left for thought. Scarce had the sun
Its zenith reach'd, than with impatience,
Ill restrain'd, they marshall on the plain
In double rank well form'd, with slaves and boys
Close following in the rear. Erect in front
Te Heu Heu proudly stands, and loudly sings
The war song's harsh but soul inspiring strains.
It ceas'd, and from the host a deaf'ning shout

Arose: demoniac like they dance
In strict accord, the blood inflaming dance;
With tongue protruded, and with nerves high strain'd
They hurl defiance on their self made foes.
Casting their mats aside they naked rush
Towards the pah, and after one discharge
They throw their muskets to the rearward slaves,
And club and spear in hand assault with shouts.
Like mountain torrent fed by surcharg'd clouds
Sweeps all before its mighty stream, so now,
Before this fiercely madden'd mortal horde
No power on earth could scatheless stand.
The outer palisade is gain'd, and rolling tides
The inner girt around and quickly pierce
Despite the heavy. storm of stones and darts
From terrac'd stages hurl'd. Success seem'd sure
As oft we know it may appear to us
When on the eve of ruin. A cheer is heard,
Aye, such a cheer as freemen only give,
And, like the whistling of the winged ball
It fore'tells death. From out each narrow lane,
As if from bows impell'd, the Christian host
Pours forth its strength against the breathless tribes,
And bears them back beyond the sacred bound.
Rallying at Erow's call a noble band
Withstands the shock, and Heu Heu quickly brings
His scatter'd troops to face the foaming foe.
They meet and fierce contest the bloody field;
Seizing each other's hair, with frantic rage,

They, wrestling, fight. Amid the dying rush
With fearful shrieks the boys and women slaves
To seize the captives, or the bodies gain
From which, in closest fight, the warrior's hand
Had fiercely struck the blood disfigur'd head.
The gallant Erow falls, and with him fell
Full many a chief: his ancient fame
Had here, as ever, fresh accession gain'd.
Surrounding friends convey him from the field,
While under Heu Heu's charge the hosts retire
And reach their forest camp. Though foil'd, they view
The havoc made as triumph gain'd: in dance
And song they pass the night, while, fix'd on spears,
Encircling them around, are human heads,
Most precious trophies of a hard fought day.
At early dawn a council meets to learn
The general voice: they feast on slaughter'd foes
And quench in part their ever craving hate.
Again they homeward bend their steps, elate
At doubtful triumph. Close on the outskirts
Of their village home the aged and the young,
The wife and mother join their welcome song.
But, soon the tidings reach, that, though success
Had crown'd their arms, the price which vengeance paid
Was high indeed, almost too high to pay,
The sounds of joy give place to notes of woe,
As gently rises on the breeze the chaunt
Funereal: A mimic fight succeeds,
Bearing but faint resemblance to the dark

Original of war. With solemn step
They bear the corpse of Erow, and of one
Scarce less renown'd, within the central space
Reserv'd for public use, and forthwith slay,
To wait their pleasure in another world,
Two slaves, less captives there than when on earth. –
Next day before assembled Chiefs arraign'd,
The Priest, who to his holy office adds
The healing art, minute description gives
Of Huia's latter end; he tells of herbs
Whose potent charms few ever tried in vain,
Of incantation deep and often poured,
Of captives slain to satisfy the wrath
Of At'ua incens'd; but nought avail'd.
She sunk in calm repose; her feeble voice
Her Erow's name pronounc'd, and then a name
Of one, with difficulty heard, with whom
She seem'd to plead, and, if a lovely smile
Be index true, she pleaded not in vain.
The priest resumes his seat; an aged chief
With grave demeanour and with weighty words,
Proclaims acquittal from all taint of blame. 13
Did time admit, and inclination prompt,
And were the pen in human gore deep dipp'd,
We might behold the midday meal, at which
The roasted swine, with blood unspill'd, provides
The earlier course; and afterward the slave,
Unconscious that on him the fatal choice
Had fallen, is mercilessly slain and forms
What fancy, if so pleased, may well conceive. 14

12 It was formerly a custom, now perhaps quite obsolete, to preserve the heads of enemies as an incentive to revenge, for which purpose, after being duly impregnated with pyroligneous acid, they were exposed in a public situation in the village. The heads of deceased relatives were similarly preserved as we treasure the portraits of those we love. By the peculiar process adopted the features are retained in such perfection that could we but replace the eyes it would be impossible to distinguish the relic from the living member. A considerable traffic formerly took place in these preserved heads; if a captain of a vessel arrived off the coast, as was not infrequently the case, with an order from English curiosity mongers a neighbouring tribe with whom a feud existed would afford the ready means of meeting the demand; or, in case of amicable relations existing with all around, the numerous slaves of the tribe itself would meet the emergency.

13 The priest in New Zealand, as in every country where superstition blinds its votaries, exercised a resistless sway. Instead of regarding the minister of God with that affectionate respect with which the laity of the Church of England regard those whose office it is "to give themselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word," they viewed them as exerting a more powerful influence over the deity than they could attain to; as a kind of mediator between God and man; as particularly gifted with the power of sorcery; and as combining the physician's avocation with the priestly office. It was his duty, or rather privilege, as Mr. Marsden represents, to eat the first mouthful of a chief who had been slain in battle, and he had the power of tabooing or rendering sacred any person or thing. Not infrequently the chiefs assume the priestly office, most probably from the circumstance of its giving them such influence over the unreasoning multitude. In his official capacity of physician the priest is expected to remain by the bed of the dying chief until either recovery or death results; in the latter case, he has to justify his treatment before the assembled chiefs, who, it must be supposed, are peculiarly gifted when thus empannelled as a medical jury. Dr. Dieffenbach gives an instance of the fearful influence which the priestly office confers, and though it may shock the oversensitive, still, as descriptive of national customs and manners, its insertion here may be justifiable. The young and beautiful wife of a chief was wandering on the sacred banks of the lake Taupo, and arrived by chance at a spot where the flaxen garment of an old priestess was suspended from a bough to be rid of a species of the insect tribe which revels in the purlieus of filth, but abhors the midday sun or the glowing heat of the fire. The temptation was too strong, she drew nigh, plucked and ate. Ensconsed amidst the thick foliage sat the priestess, who seeing her sacred garment profaned by this unhallowed feast, rushed forward and poured forth the vials of her wrath upon the devoted victim; among other fearful prophetical intimations to which she gave utterance, she assured the sacrilegious chieftainess that she would kill and eat the infant to which she was shortly to give birth. The threat, oft repeated at intervals, made a deep impression. At length the babe was born, but only to realize in part the fulfilment of the prophecy: a hole was dug in the earth, and amid its piercing cries the mother trampled it to death. The subject of this tale, subsequently, with her husband joined the Missionaries and was baptized. I may add on the authority of Rutherfoord, as given in the "New Zealander," who was for many years a captive and married the daughter of an influential chief, that mothers did occasionally eat their own children as soon as they were born.

14 It has been already mentioned that on the death of a chief it is by no means unusual for the widow to commit suicide. Slaves are also slain on such occasions, either as a propitiation or as attendants on the deceased in the world of spirits.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER V.

Why dwell then on such scenes? and why portray
Humiliation's deepest depth? "Tis well
To see the rock from whence we're hewn, the pit
From whence we're digg'd, and viewing, duly prize
The grace which makes the desert to rejoice,
And as the rose to blossom. Did we need
To soften tints, we might by contrast show
How abolition's noble act, the growth
Of near two thousand years, was far eclips'd
By one spontaneous unrequited deed,
When list'ning isles, rejoicing, heard the sound
"Arise and shine because thy light is come."
But we refrain, let other scenes our thoughts
Engage. The summer's sun is bright, and fields
Of rip'ning corn their golden ears disport
In waves of joy; the sweet Koomera joins,
In language such as vegetative life
Can eloquently use, to sing His praise
Whom circling worlds unceasingly adore.
Nor is man silent; man, within whose lap
The richest gifts have lavishly been pour'd,
His voice is that of joy, the voice of praise.
Cloth'd in their gayest garb the village teems
With living throngs of overflowing mirth,
As headed by their priest they outward flow
Towards the smiling fields. No hand disturbs
The thirsty ground until the priest evokes

A blessing from on high, for untold wealth
May prove a curse unless such blessing gain'd.
Scarce was it sought than like the clust'ring bees
They swarm around the crops, and joyous glean
Their rich and golden fruits. The priest proceeds
To bless the public store, and thus protect
From vulgar touch its now replenish'd wealth. –
The "Harvest Home" is o'er, and winter claims
Its annual reign; the winter'd mind
Of man no less demands its annual meal;
Revenge once more is hunger'd and athirst.
The dead demand redress; no less than blood.
For blood can payment make, and, when, to minds
By superstition blind, the dead declaim,
The vengeful heart a ready answer gives.
As coming storms send forth unerring signs,
So tidings early reach'd the Mission Church
Of coming ill; the Missionary's mind
Was sore perplex'd at such repeated acts
Of unprovok'd attack. He spreads the case
Before the God of truth, and humbly seeks
His counsel and His aid: nor long he waits.
Commending to His care the infant Church,
And all besides whom he holds dear on earth,
He starts for Taupo's lake to stem the flood.
A friendly foe, for such there often is,
Sends word of well digested plan to kill
The man of God if he attempt to stand
Between the heathen and their lawful prey;

No terrors shake his mind; he full well knows
"To him to live is Christ, to die is gain,"
And onward moves. Vain is the heathen's rage,
He stands unarm'd on Taupo's sacred banks.
Te Heu Heu listens to his strange appeal,
And list'ning, melts. He whom we lately view'd
As scatt'ring death among the Christian ranks
Asks for a man of God to guide his tribe,
And offer makes of land on which to dwell.
Far other language does his brother hold,
The bold Iwikau; furiously he spurns
The olive branch of peace, and loudly calls
For one more fight by which his incens'd god
May be appeas'd, and, then, let discord end.
Faint, but believing still, the man of peace
Retires dismay'd; yet, though the dread intent
Is not foregone, it is at least deferr'd.
How often may the thoughtful mind perceive
Amid the darkest nights a cheering beam,
If, deep in earnest pray'r, it looks on high;
The storms of life may roar, the billows roll,
But, with the eye of faith fast fix'd on Him
Who rules the raging of the sea, it views
A gentle genial breeze, an ocean's calm.
Te Heu Heu dies, and bold Iwikau rules
Without restraint. Strange blessing this indeed
Man by no mental effort could perceive
The stately pine lodg'd in the humble cone;
Nor faint conjecture form how from a bud

Could spring, as once Minerva sprang,
Complete in all their varying parts, the trunk,
And leaf, gay flower, and luscious fruit. –
The vale in which Te Heu Heu liv'd, by name
Te Rapa, undulating northward falls;
Beside it flows Waikat'o's noble stream
And Taupo's lake reposes in its front.
Around are beauteous hills, the monuments
By nature rais'd as tribute to her God.
Here Heu Heu liv'd in patriarchal state
Amid his wives, his children, and his slaves,
Nor dream'd that danger ever dar'd approach;
And so we often dream, in fancy's flights,
Of ease and peace, till, dying, we awake.
For many days the heavy clouds had pour'd
Their frequent showers o'er the lofty hills
And many a cavern fill'd and clos'd.
The mass thus seal'd, by central heat inflam'd,
Originated steam, and this condens'd
Burst through its bonds, casts down a mountain's side,
And bars the progress of a stream. The night
Was densely dark, and 'mid the hills the clouds
Pour'd down their ceaseless flood; the thunder roll'd
In accents harsh; with bright and vivid flash
The lightning's blaze illumin'd all around.
One loud report, as if to herald woe,
Burst on the sleeping tribe, and fix'd its fate.
The yielding dam, at length, with fearful crash
Gives way, and downward leaps the roaring stream.

Short warning did it give. Te Heu Heu sees
His wives, his eldest son, and threescore men,
Engulph'd and borne along to Taupo's lake;
Sternly he stands erect, with flowing locks
White as the driven snow, of noble mien,
And of majestic height, and calmly views
The spreading plague, and then with haste he grasps
A neighb'ring pine and quickly climbs aloft.
With arm outstretch'd the sea god he invokes,
But supplicates in vain: the stately tree
Yields to the oft repeated shock and falls;
The op'ning stream a ready welcome gives,
And clasps Te Heu Heu in its fond embrace,
Nor ever clasp'd one less inclin'd to live.
Who that affliction's softening power has felt,
Or wept the loss of one without whom life
Is but a wilderness of joyless thought;
Who lives, as vegetation lives, and dies
A wither'd thing but for the Christian's hope:
Who thus has felt can fully feel the pangs
Which rends Iwikau's heart, while he laments
His brother's loss. As iron heated yields
A pliant homage to the smith's design,
So man, upon whose head affliction falls,
Submissive yields. No longer warlike thoughts
Absorb Iwikau's mind; he forthwith melts
And with sincere solicitation seeks
A visit from the messenger of peace. –
As murmuring streams rejoice the panting hart

And friendly shade in Asia's burning sands
Revives the pilgrim during noontide heat,
So this unwonted strain from Taupo's banks
Harmonious strikes upon the anxious ear.
The Church's earnest prayers are heard on high,
And gloomy winter yields to hopeful spring.
The Missionary's heart reviving leaps;
He lonely bends before the God of grace
And burning words of praise, as incense, rise
Unto the Saviour's throne. Girt with the sword
Which quick discerns the secrets of each heart,
And clad complete in armour form'd in heaven,
Which oft has stood unscath'd 'gainst Satan's wiles,
He starts his blessed mission to fulfil.
And now how different the scene from that
Which met his view when last he came uncall'd;
No voice of welcome then his spirit cheer'd,
But now six hundred tongues in union join
And loud the welcome rings o'er echoing hills.
Among the tribe whose fate we have described
Were four of low degree, who late had bow'd
Before the Christian's God and Him alone.
Their bodies stranded by receding waves
Had been remov'd within the forest shade
To wait the coming of the Priest of God.
With ready sympathy the heathen share
The sorrows of the hour; in multitudes
They throng their light canoes; each face declares
An inward grief, and, on each head is borne,

In honor of the day, a dark green branch:
In form triangular the barks proceed
With slow and measur'd stroke; the air is rent
With wails, and many an eye unbidden yields,
A tearful tribute to the solemn scene.
The glorious truths which Jesus came to preach,
And by His holy life to illustrate,
And by His blood to seal, were deeply press'd
Upon their willing hearts. Iwlkau lists,
And list'nihg, prays; and, praying, he receives
What prayer alone obtains, faith, hope, and love.
And, not on him alone this blessing rests;
In Herekiekie's heart the fallen seed
Finds soil congenial, and, expanding, grows.
– – – – – – – – – -But, let us haste
To Whanganu'i's banks and there behold
Refreshing scenes. The summer's sun has reach'd
Its southern bound, and swiftly down the stream
Glides many a bark, and merry sounds arise,
And cheerful faces smile, and nature, e'en,
Her best attire assumes and also smiles.
The rapids loudly roar, but cool and calm
The helmsman firmly holds the steering oar,
Calls for redoubled energies, and then,
Seizing the happy moment ere it pass,
Floats in the tranquil stream. But why this tide
Of human beings borne toward the sea?
Is war the guiding impulse? are they arm'd
To meet some threaten'd foe, or to revenge

Some fancied sleight, or unprovok'd attack?
The arms they bear were never forg'd on earth,
The object sought one angels e'en might prize.
The evergreens which deck the Mission Church
Speak of that sacred day on which was heard
The sweet ton'd melody of heav'nly hosts
Singing the praise of Him whose tender care
The mighty scheme of man's redemption plann'd.
They come to celebrate His praise, whose love
"No language knows sufficient art to trace;"
They come that they may eat and drink in faith
The consecrated elements by which
His precious death is ever brought to mind,
And, on th' appointed altar humbly lay
The sacrifice of praise and thankful hearts;
They meet beneath the canopy of heaven,
The clover'd field a ready church provides.
Yes, nature smiles, and all around is clad
In freshest green, and Nature's Church is deck'd
With living boughs; and still the robin asks
His daily meal, and pardon asks in song
For having left his scarlet coat at home
Where holly berries grow; but still we miss 15
The fond embrace, the beaming smile, the tear
Which love as tribute pays to objects lov'd,
The merry ringing laugh of buoyant youth,
The sober joy of fast declining age,
The hearty wish from honest yeoman's lips.
All these we miss, and all the thousand ties

Which bind the Briton to his island home.
But these, alas, are often sought in vain
E'en in that holy land; some foreign whim
Supplants the games embalm'd from ages past
Deep in the nation's love.
The joyful notes from full two thousand tongues
Are gently hush'd, and scarce a sound is heard
When Manihe'ra forward stands to speak.
A solemn awe pervades each earnest mind
As, telling of the mercy shewn to him,
He volunteers the Gospel truths to teach
To Taupo's heathen race. Nor he alone,
Keropa longs to join and share the risk.
The Church accepting bless the holy men,
As Barnabas and Paul of old were bless'd,
And to Hiscare commend who can protect
From stalking plague, or arrow's deadly flight.
Before they reach their journey's end, they call
At Roto-airo's lake, where Christian friends
A hearty welcome gave, and sage advice;
They earnestly entreat, that, as by one
Of Manihera's tribe there fell a chief
Renown'd, they would secure Iwlkau's aid.
To Maniher'a's mind the counsel seem'd
As if distrusting God, and he resolv'd
On Himto trust, and put no faith in man.
Time flew apace, while they convers'd and view'd
The present and the past; while they compar'd
Their present hopes with superstition's dark

And dreary age. Warm'd by the noble theme,
(And who could coldly talk, or feebly feel,
With truth at once the subject and the flame?)
They reach Tokanu's truly welcome shade,
And ent'ring there recline on grassy knolls
Suggestive of repose. The stately pine
Her moral reads, as springing straight from earth
Without one break or branch full fourscore feet,
It soars aloft, and points to realms above;
Beside it stands, majestic in its form,
The giant rata deck'd in crimson garb,
Whose outstretch'd arms a ready shelter gives
From summer's heat, or winter's drenching rain.
Refresh'd they onward move, and still converse
On holy themes, and Manihera tells
Of some foreboding ill whose near approach
No human aid can stay; though thus assur'd
Of death's advance he halts not in his course.
A pause ensues; the prelude to a storm
Foreseen but yet not fear'd; two fatal balls
Their destin'd objects reach. Keropa dies
Without a sigh; while Manihera gasps
Within the arms of agonizing death;
A brother Christian's hand receives from his
That blessed Book which daily fed his faith,
While 'mid convulsive throes, his gushing words
Proclaim its great unutterable worth.

15 As if Christmas would he incomplete without the appearance of our favourite robin, he comes as a welcome guest, having, however, exchanged his scarlet vest for one of a more sober hue, emblematic of his grief on having left home.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VI.

Scarce had the tidings reach'd the infant Church
Than darkest thoughts, long dormant, rearise;
But first the messenger of peace declares
His firm intent once more to face the foe;
Perchance, again his mission may be bless'd.
His purpose never yet had long to wait,
When duty call'd, for corresponding deed.
Though threats pursue, no threats can bar his way.
Tokanu reach'd, no welcome sound is heard;
Th' assembled chiefs in gloomy silence sit.
Hermapo, rising, speaks; his words are few –
"Would that my ears had heard the cheering sound
"Which welcomes friends. " Tohana quick replies.
"By feeling prompted, and by duty led,
"I gladly came with him who comes for peace.
"But strange my errand is; yes, passing strange,
"Silence best suits my mind, unless this act
"Of deep malignity be disavowed.
Manuka, by whose hand one martyr fell,
Upholds the deed as in accordance close
With custom's ancient universal claim.
Silence, once more, resumes her gloomy reign;
At length a voice is heard, in accents mild,
Well suited to a messenger of peace –
"Vengeance is mine," says God, "I will repay."
"To Him then let us leave the treach'rous deed,

"And let the blood now spill'd be used as means
"A lasting peace to bind. From out your chiefs
"Let one be sent on embassage of peace.
"This healing balm on Herekiekie's heart
Falls as the morning dew. "You full well know
"How usage loudly cries that blood for blood
"Should freely flow. Better thoughts and hopes, I hear,
"Prevail among those truly happy tribes
"Who name the name of Christ; but Christian love
"Will plead in her behalf by whom such love
"Was never known. My mother deeply mourn'd
"Her husband kill'd by Manihera's tribe,
"And vengeance took. I truly grieve that blood
"Has flow'd, and would have stay'd the cursed hand
"Had I been there. Let one of Manihera's tribe
"Assurance give that vengeance is foregone,
"And then let peace her blessed reign proclaim."
Scant were the courtesies pass'd, and small the hope
That war would not arise. They pass the spot
Baptiz'd with Christian blood, and there they kneel
In fervent prayer: the doubtful cause is spread
Before the Lord, committed to His care;
They read the sacred page by God inscrib'd,
And learn how they who die in Christ are bless'd,
How resting from their toil they richly reap,
By God's free grace, the harvest of their works. –
On their return they faithfully report
The failure of their cause, as view'd by man,
And speak of One who silently endur'd

Unjust reproach, and persecution's storms
Without a threat, but, to Him who judgeth right
His case, confiding, left. –
The circling sun returns not on their wrath.
Again from Whanganu'i's streams, and from
The winding Wai'tera's banks, and from the lands
Which nestling lie beneath mount Egmont's shade,
The Christians come to keep their annual feast.
The canopy of heav'n again their Church.
Each from his store a portion freely gives
To aid the Christian cause in heathen lands,
And, while thus mindful of a foreign claim
They equal homage pay to home demands.
They dwell with pain on Manihera's death;
Their hearts beat high; one stimulating word
Would fan the flame, and rouse their ancient fires.
But no such word is heard, Peripi stands
Erect, but, in his eye, and in his mien,
No trace appears of aught but love and peace.
"The heathen ask that Manihera's tribe
"Should send a chief to make assurance sure
"Of wrongs forgiv'n. Well, be it so. I go.
"If in the yawning gulph of human wrath
"I fall entomb'd I know that Heso wills
"Who doeth all things well; a martyr's crown
"I do not seek, but if one sacrifice
"Be still requir'd, on me the lot be cast.
"This day, when in the feast of holy faith,
"In glad remembrance of a sacrifice

"Once offer'd, complete and full in all its parts,
"I gave myself to God, not by constraint
"Except of love, this was my fix'd design.
"God's will be done and hallow'd be His name."
Now Puran'eera forward stands and asks
That he might share in such freewill oblation;
His friends dissuade the chief, but all in vain.
"If one canoe the raging seas engulph
"And peace be gain'd, then let it be, I go."
The day on which they near'd the sacred spot
Was beauteously fair; the clouds had pour'd
Their tearful homage to the coming scene;
The thunder had, in softest murmurs, spoke
Unqualified applause; and, by its sparks
Of living fire, the lightning had subdued
Each harden'd heart of stone to heart of flesh;
And Tongariro's snowy head had backward glanc'd,
To deck the welcome sight, its borrow'd beams;
The flowers their fragrance gave; and songsters
From the forest's glades attend, unmindful
Of their rules, and, like the chime of distant bells
To sweetest harmony attun'd, they lend
Their notes; the stately pine, which scarce will bend 16
Beneath the raging storm, approving nods.
Yes, all accord. The God of nature smiles,
And when Hesmiles He lights up all around.
The gladsome news had flown on willing wings
Far in advance; and, as they clear the shade
Of overhanging trees, the welcome wail

Pours forth its cheering notes from countless hearts.
All hail the messenger of peace, and hail
The Christian friends who share his work of love.
Not one discordant note is struck to mar
The universal joy. A voice is heard
From Whanganu'i's banks; it speaks aloud.
"We seek no payment for our brother's blood;
"If other thoughts had sway, not in this guise
"Should we appear on Taupo's banks. The Lord
"Allow'd the bloody deed, and what Hedoes
"Is wisely done. Let discord flee the land.
"From henceforth one canoe will hold us all."
By common impulse mov'd they all proceed
Toward the spot where Manihera lies
Held by Keropa's hand: the sacred hymn
Peals through the neighbouring wood; when hushed,
A voice is heard, the voice of pray'r; it asks
That peace, which understanding fails to grasp,
May keep all hearts and minds completely taught
And fix'd in love to God and to His Son;
While from the soften'd tribes the loud Amen
Approving, seals the compact heard on high. –
Enraptur'd with my theme, which oft has cheer'd
At midnight's silent hour when o'er the wave
My buoyant bark its homeward track pursued,
I ling'ringly advance, most loath to add
The final link, to sketch the parting scene. –
The sun to moderate its burning rays
Has northward roam'd, and Autumn freely flings

Her variegated tints on all around;
From mountain tops the silv'ry cascade skips
With joyous bound to reach the parent stream
Which gently flows towards the southern straits;
The rapid's deaf'ning roar subsides in peace,
Lost in the murmuring notes of sober joy,
As o'er the stream there glides the light canoe
On embassage of love: the joyous crew
Pour forth their merry lay in strict accord,
While, swiftly plied, the paddle marks the time.
But one there is who silent sits, alone,
No, not alone, for close the converse held
With his own thoughts; his mind unbidden calls
The past to view, and as he contrast makes
With present scenes, the placid stream reflects
The beaming smile that lightens up his face.
When last he northward mov'd no distant streak
Of doubtful light cast e'en a truant ray
To cheer his future path; like one of old
His hoping heart reposed in firmest faith
On nature's God, and more, the God of grace.
But now the seed by martyr's blood enrich'd
Bright promise gives of overflowing fruit;
The clouds whose low'ring aspect frown'd
On all his cherish'd schemes, as vapour, fly
And leave the bow of promise in the skies.
But whither is he bent? what duty calls?
Let passing scenes the ready answer give.
Once more I stand on Whanganu'i's banks,

Not far remote from where the heathen pour'd
His desolating hordes; no hateful yells
Discordant rise and rend the very air,
No maddening dance excites disgust and fear,
Two thousand heads are bent in solemn pray'r,
Two thousand tongues proclaim Jehovah's praise.
In triple row they range themselves around
The minister of God; the dead and dying
Form the nearest rank; beyond them circling
Stand full many a chief who erst had scorn'd
The Saviour's name, but now impatient waits
The impress of the Cross; beyond again
Are congregated hosts who joyful throng
To keep the holy feast of Christian love.
The morning hymn, our childhood's earliest pray'r,
Subsides in praise among the distant hills,
And from the kneeling hosts the solemn tones
Of heartfelt penitence, as incense, rise
And find acceptance at the throne of grace,
While gently wafted by the genial breeze
We hear the Litany's deep plaintive strains,
Bright reflex of the melody of heaven.
How oft within the humble village Church
Of our own island home my heart has warm'd
At sounds like these, the dearly cherish'd forms
Of bygone years, which infants' hps have lisp'd
And martyr'd saints a fitting language found.
Among the hosts whose earnest prayers ascend
That wars may cease, and peace and concord reign,

Are many a chief who late have frenzied led
Their madden'd tribes in many a hard fought field,
Their deep scarr'd face can no emotion tell,
But in those solemn tones a language speaks,
And in that glistening eye a voice is heard,
The utterance of the heart. Now all is hush'd
As each with eager gaze intently waits
The ministry of truth. Galatia's fall
A fearful warning gives to steadfast stand
In liberty's fair fields; to guard the mind
From deep entanglement in empty forms
Or vain attempts to satisfy the Law.
The preacher clearly shows how Christ alone
Could full atonement make for man's misdeeds,
And how, through Him,a faith which works by love
Can reattire the soul in pristine truth
And lead it scatheless through a world of sin.
A people willing in His day of power
Obey by instinct, and by love fulfil
The utmost rigours of the law's demands.
No water can avail to cancel sin
Unless by Him applied; no virtue rests
In blind obedience, nor in priestly act.
The sacramental elements present
A vivid picture of a Saviour's love,
And when by faith receiv'd endow with strength
The longing, thirsting soul; but it alone.
No lordly mastery he proudly claims
To bind as slaves the freemen of the Lord,

No access does he vaunt to God's domain
By others not possess'd; the Spirit's grace
His strength; his guide the Bible's blessed truths.
To God in Christ, and to His word of grace
He bids them go in faith, and daily search
The Scripture's sacred page, for there, alone
Authoritative truth unsullied shines;
Once quit the sacred fount and drink of streams,
By other springs supplied, each draught conveys
A doubtful nurture or a deadly drug. 17
He ceas'd. In prayer they suppliant kneel
And humbly ask that sanctifying grace
May mystically wash from taint of sin
These converts to His name: nor vainly ask;
The healing water bathes each contrite soul
With renovating grace, confirms their faith
And seals admission to the Church of God. –
Once more they bend the knee before the Lord
Who from his throne, on high, benignly smiles,
And, with the sacramental bread and wine,
Conveys His grace in soul refreshing streams;
Their penitence a deeper dye receives,
Their steadfast purpose of amended life
A sterner cast, while faith more clearly views
A Saviour's travail in a ransom'd race.
And now we hear the solemn measur'd tread
Which whispers death; we see the heaving breast,
And mark the gushing tear and deep drawn sigh,
Affection's off'ring to departed worth.

We stand in death's domain; the yawning grave
Expectant waits to clasp its welcome guest;
It bids us yield, from our own warm embrace
To its chill arms, the dearly cherish'd form
O'er which our aching hearts have ceaseless bent
In many a silent hour; imperious bids,
And no denial takes. In hours like these
We feel the sting of death, we keenly hear
The grave's triumphant shout of victory. –
But our Redeemer lives; at his command
The grave must yield its dead; restore its prey.
Oh bless'd indeed are they who die in Him;
O'er whose remains the Church's earnest hope
Is dim foreshadow of a blissful fact.
To them death oft a welcome friend appears;
His stealthy tread is hail'd with pure delight;
His grasp but rends this tenement of clay
And plumes the soul to wing its way to God.
Yes, bless'd indeed, for then they faultless stand
Before the Father's throne accepted sons.
The righteous robe they wear, their Saviour's gift,
The golden crown His undeserv'd reward,
Their fitnessbut the Spirit's free born grace.
Yes, truly bless'd. Eternity's vast span
Must fail to stretch beyond their throbbing joy
Which no alloy can know: in Christthey dwell,
And language fails to tell a surer rest. 18

16 I can never forget the impression made upon my mind upon hearing for the first time the melodious chimes of the feathered minstrels of New Zealand. It was deep in the recesses of a noble forest long before a streak of light had intimated to man the approach of day that I was awoke by a music whose harmoniously blended notes were so enchanting that it was with difficulty I could realize the fact of my not being in the land of dreams and visions. The sweet commingled warbling, impressive from its very softness and simplicity, sent back the mind to the village chimes which often, amid the vallies of Devonshire, broke on the ear with such softening gentleness as instinctively to win the soul from earth. No sooner does the morning break than the heavenly orchestra dissolves, though a strange musician or two whose notes are more in accordance with man and his subordinates will continue to dole out an occasional voluntary.

17 If the distant hum of religious controversy have rightly reached my ear, the substance of this discourse will not, I fear, find much acceptance with some who entertain different views on the Sacraments from those which are here expressed. Though perhaps there be little chance of misapprehension, it may not be unnecessary to remark that I have here represented the minister as declaring what, in my humble opinion, are the correct statements of the subject, and not what might be his views, though the agreement may be closer than I can affirm. While it is our duty to receive with due deference the expositions of those to whom are confided the ministry of the Word, we cannot at the same time abrogate a covenant with a higher Power, or forget a prior obligation to "search the Scriptures daily" to ascertain whether these things be as reported. It will be small justification for erroneous belief to claim the leadership of a Paul, a Cephas or an Apollos, if we are not brought to the "obedience of the faith in Christ." Such sentiments are, I believe, in complete unison with feelings of gratitude for the privilege of being a member of the Church of England, and with an honest desire not to misinterpret her exposition of doctrine. It appears that she holds that there are two sacraments generally necessary to salvation; that each of these sacraments consists of two parts, "an outward visible sign" and "the inward spiritual grace;" the requisites for the former, viz, baptism, are repentance and faith, and for the latter viz the Lord's Supper, self examination, steadfast purpose of leading a new life, a lively faith in God, a thankful remembrance of Christ's death, and the existence of charity with all men. It is declared in the Communion Service that they who come to the communion of the body and blood of our Saviour Christ may receive the holy sacrament "unworthily," and not only fall short of receiving a great benefit, but may kindle God's wrath against them. Now as the outward sign and inward grace are common to both sacraments, the inference appears reasonable, even in the absence of more explicit information, that if in the latter the inward grace may be wanting from an unworthy reception, it may be absent from the former from the same cause; but, when we turn to the service for the ministration of baptism to those of riper years, we find the congregation engaged in earnest prayer that this inward and spiritual grace may be granted, the Minister urging it to banish all doubt, and earnestly believe that God will favourably receive these candidates for holy baptism "truly repenting and coming unto Him by faith;" and further, after the candidates have publicly declared their repentance and faith (sincerity of intention of course giving validity to the declaration,) we find that at this period, and not till then, the blessing sought is thankfully acknowledged to be received. "The wholesome effect or operation is limited to such only as worthily receive the sacrament," and "such only as receive baptism rightly are grafted into the Church." (See xxv and xxvii Articles.) As regards infants, the Church simply affirms that the administration of baptism to such is most agreeable with the institution of Christ. Thus viewed, there is a complete unity in the two sacramental services; and when we read the last solemn offices over the dead, we see the confidence expressed of the soul's safety to arise from a similar principle, viz, a sincere connection with the Church of which Christ is the Head. If, from the documentary statements of the Church, we turn to the Bible, which in the Articles is viewed as "containing all things necessary to salvation," we read of Pharisees and Sadducees, desirous of being baptized, warned to bring forth fruits meet for repentance; and moreover, of repentance being as essentially coupled with the ordinance as the spiritual grace is supposed by some to be with the outward act.

One other point may justify a remark: the "ambassadors for Christ" are reasonably entitled to our highest reverence and most affectionate esteem while they act upon the Apostle's declaration – "Not that we have dominion over your faith, but are helpers of your joy; for by faith ye stand;" and though thankfully adopting the three orders of the ministry as most in accordance with the later scriptural intimations, with historical evidence, and the fitness of things, we cannot, as regards other denominations of Christians, hut revert to the Apostle's sentiments, "Notwithstanding every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is preached,and I therefore do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice." Having one faith, one Lord, one baptism, we are evidently one in Christ. How wisely does our Church define this matter. Each Church or congregation of faithful men in which the pure word of God is preached and the sacraments duly administered according to Christ's ordinance, in all those things that of necessity are requisite to the same, has power to decree its own rites and ceremonies, and, when acting in accordance with Scripture, has authority in controversies of faith. Where we see a profession of the great distinctive principles of the Gospel supported by a cheerful overflowing selfdenying obedience, as true a sign of faithfulness as the power of working miracles was at an earlier period, we cannot but recall our Saviour's reply to the beloved disciple whose affectionate solicitude for his Master's interests knew no bounds – "He that is not against us is on our part," or the earnest declaration of St. Paul – "Nevertheless Christ is preached, I therefore do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice;" or the answer of Moses to the zealous Joshua – "Would God that all the Lord's people were prophets, and the Lord would put his Spirit upon them." If the great distinctive principles and doctrines of the Bible be put in the back ground, be built over or obscured, no elaborate finish of the superstructure, no completeness of the minor points, can compensate for the deficiency. To those who hold these principles and doctrines, however we may differ on lesser points, we cannot but most cordially offer the right hand of fellowship; while we, with pain, withhold it from those who make the word of God of no avail by their traditions, who teach for doctrines the commandments of men, and who practically refuse to "bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." If a difference in the superstructure or outworks warrants the destruction of the foundation, it is difficult to cavil at the New Zealander's belief expressed at a time when a too great importance is represented to have been placed on distinctive forms, rites, and ordinances, to the detriment or extinction of Christian love, without which we are but as the tinkling cymbal or the sounding brass – "that Heathenism with love is better than Christianity without it."

18 The casual visit of a New Zealand Chief to Sydney in 1808, was the means of bringing the country to the notice of the Christian Church. The benevolent heart of the Rev. S. Marsden. (the father of the New Zealand Church,) gladly seized the opportunity of bringing missionary influence to bear upon this benighted land. On his arrival in England, whither he was bent at the time, he successfully pleaded with the Church Missionary Society, and in 1809 he returned with two Catechists, but the murder of the crew of the Boyd, merchantmen, and the fearful scenes which followed, precluded any operation for a time. In 1814 the first Missionary landed amidst cannibals, and it was not till 1825 that the first convert was gained, followed in 1827 by a second. In 1832 there was not a single communicant, in 1838 the demand, for Missionaries became general, and in 1848 we read of between 4 or 500 communicants at a time, and congregations of 2000 availing themselves of a passing Missionary to hear the glad tidings of salvation, and this from among a population not exceeding 80,000. Invaluable as the services of the Church of England Missionaries have been, and continue to be, New Zealand owes much, very much, to the devoted and zealous exertions of the Wesleyan Methodists, whose labours have been crowned with abundant success. The Christian population may now be estimated at 40 or 50,000. There cannot be a doubt that the improved temporal condition of the earlier converts, arising from a change of habits and the advantages generally resulting from commercial intercourse with Europeans, tended very much to invest Christianity with a charm which removed many of the obstacles which its introduction meets with in more civilized societies; and doubtless with very many the change of religious belief is as inoperative as it formerly was, still there is much, very much, of sincere profession and deep feeling as practically evinced by the abolition of time-honored barbaric usages, and the practice of duties but ill in accordance with previous associations. If their first love wax cold, before we harshly designate their profession, we must not only remember our own inconsistencies, but the fall of the early Asiatic Churches as recorded in the Revelation of St. John.

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(W. Roberts, opposite Broad Gate.)

ERRATA.

Page 8, line 14, extend'dfor extended.
9, " 7, the omitted.
44, " 4, unharm'd for unarm'd.

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