ckening scenes of slaughter
and cannibalism; on the other were the evil lives of sailors and traders
of his own race. Now and then the great Enemy would draw nearer still,
and one of his own comrades would fall a prey. His own religion was of a
somewhat austere type. His calendar was unmarked by fast or festival; he
had few opportunities of participating in a joyous Eucharist; there was
no colour in his raupo chapel, nor variety in his manner of worship.

The home life of the missionary doubtless often presented a picture of
domestic happiness. But there were no luxuries. If he wished to vary the
daily routine of pork and potatoes, he must try to obtain some fish
or native game. Failing these, he had only his own garden and
poultry-yard to look to. Soldiers' rations of coarse groceries were
served out from the Society's stores, but everything else must be bought
out of his slender income--L50 if a married man (unordained), or L30 if
a bachelor. Often in the earlier days, while the Maoris were still
unfriendly, even pork and potatoes were not to be had. More than once
Henry Williams and his family were brought to the verge of starvation.

[Illustration: OLD CHURCH AT RUSSELL (Built in 1838).]

In spite of these and other privations, the health of the missionaries
was good and their families were large. No death occurred among them
until 1837, when Mrs. R. Davis was called to her rest. Dangers abounded
on every hand, yet accidents were rare. Mr. and Mrs. Charles Davis were
lost at sea; Marsden was wrecked on the Brampton reef, but escaped
unhurt with all his party. Henry Williams passed through a terrible
experience when returning from Tauranga in 1832. For two days his little
vessel had been enveloped in driving rain and had been blown quite out
of her course, when the missionary, who had been praying through the
whole night, seeing at daybreak a rock immediately ahead, fell back upon
his old nautical skill, seized the tiller in his own hands, and just
succeeded in saving the craft from destruction.

It was this imminent peril that raised in the mind of Henry Williams the
question of how to make provision for his numerous family in case of his
death. Like most of his colleagues, he had sons growing to manhood, and
was anxious to do his duty by them. He could have sent them to England,
but this would have meant a life-long separation between parents and
children; to Sydney, but this would involve their exposure to the