A.—No. 3,

70

RELIGIOUS, CHARITABLE, AND

neatly done. Now, however, he seems incapable of finishing anything he begins. There is an aimlessness about his life painful to witness in any human being. He seems to take no real pleasure and delight in anything. If he builds a house, he never completes it; if he puts up a fence, however well he may begin it, he is sure to leave a gap somewhere, and to patch that up just to make it do for the present. He may die before the crop he has planted so slovenly is reaped, and then what will it matter to him that cattle broke in and destroyed it ? If his wife or children are ill, sometimes he will sit motionless beside them till all hope of recovery is passed, and then rush hither and thither for food and medical advice, selling anything he has to procure what they need; or, on the other hand, he will get everything on the first alarm of illness, and tend them with the greatest devotion, and then suddenly drop into that listless, hopeless state of mind, and neglect them altogether. I will briefly mention some of the probable reasons that occur to me for this aimlessness of character. In the first place, the sudden change from the active life of heathenism to the even calm of Christianity, involving, as it did, the change of all his customs, habits, and modes of thought, most of which he was taught to look upon as wicked and hateful to God ; then the colonization of the country, and the entire change in his position from being lord of the soil to a tolerated occupier of a very small portion, appears to have bewildered and paralysed the faculties of the Maori. Look where he will, he is hemmed in by customs and laws that he docs not clearly understand. He feels a stranger and a foreigner in his own land. He can no longer fish and shoot and hunt without permission. He cannot keep a living creature about him without its becoming a source of anxiety, lest it should involve him in the transgression of some known or unknown law. Everywhere law confronts him and casts a shadow on his path. Tet he does not hate the law or try to resist it. He admits its justice and the fairness with which it is administered. The fault, he confesses, rests with himself; yet, nevertheless, he seems powerless to remedy it. The future offers no hope! He cannot look forward to his children entering upon some honorable career now closed to him, for they precede him to the grave. Under such circumstances can we wonder at Maoris moping about their huts and feeling disinclined to work, content to make spasmodic efforts occasionally to supply their absolute wants ? The position of the Maori is inevitable ; nevertheless, it is hard for any human being, especially one so self-conscious, to feel that he is of no more use or importance in the land in which he dwells than the dumb brutes of the field. I think it is mainly to this cause that we must attribute the rapid decrease of the Maori population. I had occasion lately to make inquiries respecting certain Natives —twenty in number—for whom Mr. Commissioner Mantell reserved land in 1847. I ascertained the startling fact that ten only survived ; that of that number eight were more than fifty years old, two only were young men, and but one of these married, and he has only two children, the eldest three years old. This is no doubt an exceptional case, but it is a fact that the general average of deaths exceeds the births. To this hopeless state of mind, moreover, may, in a great measure, be attributed the poverty of the Maoris, though other reasons may also be assigned. No Maori in East Canterbury can command an income of £100, or even half that amount. Why, it may be asked, do they not cultivate their reserves ? Because in every instance, except Kaiapoi, the reserves are held in common, and they cannot agree among themselves as to boundaries, fences, and roads. At Kaiapoi the farms average fourteen acres a-piece. If they were entirely cultivated, the value of the produce off each farm would not amount to very much, and if let at the highest rental yet obtained would only yield an income of £14 to each family. But why do they not seek for work among the Europeans ? They dislike working for a master. The chiefs always had slaves to work for them in heathen times, and they cannot disabuse their minds of the old idea that it is degrading to work under the direction of another. At shearing and harvest time, many of the young men do go out to work, and are invariably liked by their employers. But men who can trace their pedigrees up to the creation, and even beyond it, shrink from the yoke of hired servitude. The isolated position they have assumed, their ignorance, poverty, and prejudices, and the want of interest in life, are the difficulties in the way of their advancement. In spite of these, however, they have made a slight advance. In place of the snug whare, they now house themselves in cold, draughty, wooden buildings, which often prove coffins above ground to those who erect them. They furnish them poorly, but as like the white man as they can. They have adopted our clothing —though opinions may differ as to the advantage of the exchange, a chief being a more dignified-looking person in a mat than rigged out in a tight-fitting dress coat of ancient cut, patched inexpressibles, navvy boots, and crushed white hat. They have adopted our food—tea, sugar, and bread being the chief articles of diet. Meat they cannot afford. The kit is now exchanged for a tin dish, and the calabash for a pannikin, at ordinary meals, but on extraordinary occasions the food is served on tables in European fashion. Strange to say, the dried shark and mutton birds are disagreeing with them, and very few can drink a pint of oil without suffering from a bilious attack. They declare, and perhaps with truth, that warm tea has destroyed their digestion ! By the adoption of our food, clothing, and mode of life, the Maori will be compelled to work— compelled to fight the battle of life side by side with the white man. Should one prosper in the pursuit of trade, or any branch of industry, many would be found to follow. The barrier of communism is being fast removed, and we may cherish the hope that whatever good qualities the race possesses will be concentrated in the remnant that is left, who may throw into the channels of civilized life the fierce energy, industry, perseverance, and skill that characterized their forefathers. But it is in matters connected with their spiritual interests that the Maoris have manifested the greatest improvement. In church building, church attendance, schools and bible classes, they have taken a very warm interest. The closing up of the avenues to worldly distinction has impelled them to seek the higher rewards offered by God to man, and in the consolations of religion to seek compen-