The shipwreck of the Brampton--for that was the vessel's name--occurred on the 7th of September, and in consequence Mr. Marsden was detained in New Zealand until the 14th of November, when he returned home in the Dragon, and arrived at Sydney in the beginning of December, 1823. The interval was not lost; for he seems to have been one of those who gather up the fragments of time, and turn to the best account the idle hours and spare moments of life. He drew up some excellent rules for the guidance of the missionaries and Christian settlers in their intercourse with the shipping which now began to visit the Bay of Islands. He encouraged the erection of a school-house for the natives. "The foundation," he says, "must be laid in the education of the rising generation. The children possess strong minds, are well-behaved and teachable. They are capable of learning anything we wish to teach them." During his detention he also addressed a circular letter to the missionaries respecting a grammar in the Maori or New Zealand language, pointing out the necessity of adopting some more systematic method both for its arrangement and pronunciation. This led to a new vocabulary of the native language, and in a short time to a new method of spelling. We have, of course, retained Mr. Marsden's orthography of New Zealand names, but we may remark, by the way, it is very different from that which has been since introduced. Shunghie became E'Hongi; Kiddee Kiddee, Keri Keri; and so in other instances. But even Mr. Marsden, with all his sagacity, did not penetrate New Zealand's future, nor foresee in how short a time the well-known and familiar sounds of English towns and villages would be transferred to that still savage island, superseding even in Maori lips their native designations. It seems probable that the New Zealand language may, in the course of another generation, come to be known only by the grammar which the missionaries compiled and the Scriptures which they have since translated. But whatever be its fate, it is in a high degree sonorous and expressive, and had it but an antique literature, a Tallessin or an Ossian, it could never perish. Without a literature of its own no spoken language can long endure against the assaults of that which is evidently destined to be the universal speech of trade and commerce, the English tongue. On the other hand the literature of a language, or even of a dialect, embalms it after it has ceased to be a spoken tongue even to the end of time.