The history of Bishop Selwyn’s visitation hardly belongs to Patteson’s life; but after one Sunday morning’s ministration at Queen Charlotte’s Sound, Patteson was thus entreated:  ’At 2.30 I was on shore again, and soon surrounded by some thirty or forty natives, with whom I talked a long while about the prospect of a clergyman being settled among them.  “We want you!  You speak so plainly, we can understand you!”

’"No, I am going to the islands, to the blacks there.” (N.B.  The Maoris speak of the Blacks with a little touch of contempt.)

’"You are wanted here!  Never mind the blacks!”

’"Ought not the Gospel to be preached to them, too?  They have no teacher.  Is it not right they should be taught as you have been?”

‘"Ke rae tika ana.  Yes, yes, that is right!"’

The settlements, then new, of Canterbury and Dunedin were visited, and then, the Bishop remaining on shore on other work, the ’Southern Cross’ started for the Chatham Isles, gaining high commendation for all the good qualities of which a schooner could be supposed capable.

’It was pretty to see the little, vessel running away from the great broad-backed rollers which rolled over the shore far above.  Every now and then she shipped a sea, and once her deck was quite full of water, up to the gunwale nearly.’  And as for her future skipper, he says, ’I had plenty of work at navigation.  It really is very puzzling at first; so much to remember—­currents, compass, variation, sun’s declination, equation of time, lee way, &c.  But I think I have done my work pretty well up to now, and of course it is a great pleasure as well as a considerable advantage to be able to give out the true and magnetic course of the ship, and to be able from day to day to give out her position.’

The Chatham Islands are dependencies of New Zealand, inhabited by Maoris, and as it has fallen to the lot of few to visit them, here is this extract concerning them:—­

’I buried a man there, a retired sea captain who had spent some twenty years of his life in China, and his widow was a Chinese woman, a little dot of a thing, rather nice-looking.  She spoke a little English and more Maori.  We walked through the Pa to the burial-ground, some twenty natives all dressed in black, i.e. something black about them, and many in a good suit, attending the funeral.  Levi had spent the day before (Sunday) with them and had told them about me.  As I approached the Pa before the funeral they all raised the native cry of welcome, the “Tangi.”  I advanced, speaking to them collectively, and then went through the ceremony of shaking hands with each one in order as they stood in a row, saying something, if I could think of it, to each.  After the funeral they all (according to native custom) sat down in the open air, round a large cloth on the ground, on which were spread tins of potatoes, fish, pork, &c.  The leader came to me and said, “This is the Maori