with singing the Old Hundredth Psalm, and felt my very soul melt
within me when I viewed my congregation and considered the state they
were in. After reading the service, during which the natives stood up
and sat down at the signals given by Korokoro's switch, which was
regulated by the movements of the Europeans, it being Christmas Day, I
preached from the second chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, and tenth verse,
'Behold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy,' etc. The natives told
Ruatara that they could not understand what I meant. He replied that
they were not to mind that now, for they would understand by and by, and
that he would explain my meaning as far as he could. When I had done
preaching, he informed them what I had been talking about. Ruatara was
very much pleased that he had been able to make all necessary
preparations for the performance of divine worship in so short a time,
and we felt much obliged to him for his attention. He was extremely
anxious to convince us that he would do everything in his power, and
that the good of his country was his principal consideration. In this
manner the Gospel has been introduced into New Zealand, and I fervently
pray that the glory of it may never depart from its inhabitants till
time shall be no more."

For the moment it seemed as though Marsden's congregation had not been
very deeply impressed. Three or four hundred natives (says Nicholas)
began a furious war-dance, apparently to express gratitude and
appreciation. With conflicting feelings the missionaries at length
withdrew to their ship, and there, in the evening, Marsden "administered
the Holy Sacrament in remembrance of our Saviour's birth and what He had
done and suffered for us."

What would be the reflections of this far-sighted man as he lay in his
berth that summer night? Fresh from the scene of the _Boyd_ tragedy, and
in the very presence of Te Pahi's desolated citadel, he had ventured to
take up the angels' song of peace on earth, goodwill to men. He might
perhaps have drawn some hope from the peace which the world at large was
then enjoying after years of desperate strife. Napoleon was a prisoner
in Elba, and the dogs of war were chained. But a few more months would
bring another outburst and the awful carnage of Waterloo. So would it be
in New Zealand also, and its Napoleon was a small quiet man who stood
listening thoughtfully on that Christmas Day to Marsden's message of
peace.

The planting of the se