Introductory. — First view of New Zealand. — First sight of the natives, and first sensations experienced by a mere Pakeha. — A Maori chief's notions of trading in the old times. — A dissertation on "courage." — A few words on dress. — The chief's soliloquy. — The Maori cry of welcome.
Ah! those good old times, when first I came to New Zealand, we shall never see their like again. Since then the world seems to have gone wrong somehow. A dull sort of world this now. The very sun does not seem to me to shine as bright as it used. Pigs and potatoes have degenerated; and everything seems "flat, stale, and unprofitable." But those were the times!—the "good old times"—before Governors were invented, and law, and justice, and all that. When every one did as he liked,—except when his neighbours would not let him, (the more shame for them,)—when there were no taxes, or duties, or public works, or public to require them. Who cared then whether he owned a coat?—or believed in shoes or stockings? The men were bigger and stouter in those days; and the women,—ah! Money was useless and might go a begging. A sovereign was of no use except to make a hole in and hang it in a child's ear.
