Amidst such scenes the missionaries dwelt in peace. War, and its inseparable and more hideous companion, cannibalism, showed themselves at their gates, but were not allowed to hurt them. Under the good providence of God, their security was owing, in a great measure, to the prudence and courage with which Mr. Marsden planned and carried out his projects. Himself a stranger to fear, he infused courage into those around him, and both he and they felt secure under the shield and buckler of the Almighty. No doubt the fearlessness of Mr. Marsden won the admiration of these savages and contributed not a little to his safety. His journal abounds in instances such as that which follows. The scene is in a Maori village, and the writer is surrounded with cannibals. "After conversing on several subjects, we had supper, sung a hymn, and then committed ourselves to the Angel of the everlasting covenant, and so lay down to rest; a number of the natives lay around the hut and some within. I slept well until daybreak, being weary with walking." He appears to have arrived at home, after this second visit to New Zealand, towards the close of November, 1819. In February, 1820, he was once more on his way back to New Zealand. His letters bear ample testimony to a fact which all who were acquainted with him in private life observed, that his heart was full of affection, and that his home was the scene of his greatest happiness. He had not returned, it is true, to be greeted with public honours; on the contrary, he was still a marked man. The governor and many of the leading men in the colony were prejudiced against him. We believe it is to this period of his life that an anecdote which we give on the best possible authority belongs. The governor had consented to his recent visit to New Zealand with reluctance, and had limited the period of his absence with military precision, threatening at the same time to deprive him of his chaplaincy unless he returned within the given time. The last day arrived, and the expected vessel was not in sight. The governor repeated his determination to those around him, and Mr. Marsden's friends were filled with anxiety, and his wife and family at length gave up all hope. Towards evening the long-wished-for sail appeared in the offing, and at eight o'clock in the evening Mr. Marsden quietly walked into the governor's drawing-room with the laconic and yet respectful address, "Sir, I am here to report myself." But within the bosom of his family all was peace, and his presence shed light and joy on everything around him. His circumstances were prosperous--for his farm, which was almost entirely committed to Mrs. Marsden's care, was now a source of considerable income; his children were growing up to manhood under their parents' roof; his circle of friends and visitors was large, for there were no bounds to his simple hospitality; and the clergy of the colony, men like minded with himself, had now begun to regard him not only with