The hakas, the gesticulations of the orators speaking in an unknown tongue, the punctilious ceremonial could not readily be associated with the Maori people I had met in the city. Many of the public were Maori city workers. They all fitted perfectly into this new world; so profound was the difference that thoughts and speeches appropriate and fully accepted in their city life had now become anathema. Everything that was said in public—and much that was said in private—revolved round the well-being of the tribe, and the only sort of fact that was worth reciting related to the tribe's history. The walls surrounding the marae kept out nearly all the world I had previously known and when later I in turn had to speak to a tribal meeting, I was bound also to fit my speech into the same pattern. The Maori feels the same way when he steps into one of the sanctuaries of the European world—be it the local repertory society or professional women's club. Of course a few Maoris do it, but not the majority; no more than the majority of Europeans feel comfortable sleeping in a Maori meeting house. I don't think there is any particular harm in the condition I have described, but it shows that the relationship between the races is to a very great extent dependent on a small group of people who are at home in both worlds. Of necessity they are a minority, but they are a most important minority. One finds similar groups all over the world; for instance, in our relations with Asia we are helped greatly by the small number of people who are equally at home in East and West—it is through them that the East may get some understanding of our way of life. I like to call them the mediators. They may be migrants, teachers, traders, doctors or missionaries. Others are students or simply travellers. The first characteristic of the mediator I have already mentioned. If he is a European in a Maori environment, he must have a definite function to fulfil, close to the tribal sphere. Yet not every teacher or official can be a mediator. He must also set up a warm mutual relationship with the Maori group. This only happens if the European feels some definite need to belong to and be identified with the Maori group. Some people become mediators largely because of the isolated places in which they live, but more often the mediator is a person who feels some attachment to the Maori way of life. One of the greatest dangers of some European mediators is that they tend to regard themselves as benefactors. Such an attitude is fatal to good relations and never leads anywhere. The only right attitude for a mediator is to ask himself frankly: why have I come here? It is either because he liked to or because he had to. So there is absolutely no reason for gratitude. In fact the expectation of gratitude from another race just because one happens to spend one's time in its midst is very poor race relations. Quite on the contrary, it is the people amongst whom the mediator lives who make the most valuable gift. Right from the first meeting, it is the hosts who have to show the hospitality, spend endless hours telling the newcomer all about the history and the culture, and if the mediator is successful he will begin to suggest changes, according to the particular function he fulfils. If he is a farm supervisor, he expects changes in farming; if he is a teacher, parents and children have to adjust themselves in his demands. Admittedly, the community may ultimately benefit, but that is only afterwards. The period of change itself means upset and dislocation, based fundamentally on the trust of the people in the mediator. That is perhaps the greatest gift of the people: their confidence. The old men of the community have to make way for him, the stranger, so he can take over part of the leadership and modernize the village. It is a hard wrench, but for the sake of progress and the future it is done. The mediator should realize the great weight of responsibility that rests upon him. Many hundreds of Europeans are working in this way among the New Zealand Maori. Their influence is of course only one of many that determine the Maori situation. One could mention the films, the hotels, the whole of our money economy. The difference between all these and the mediator is that the latter works from within, from and understanding of the community and with its active consent. If there were no mediators, there would still be culture change, but it would be uncontrolled; social and economic evils would not be checked except by pure accident. Mediators can help the community find a way out of the dangers of a changing culture; their knowledge of European culture will suggest to them remedies that may not be known to the Maori leaders. I have already stressed that not all mediators