And lastly, a political object occupied some of Mr. Marsden's time and thoughts. The incessant and desolating wars which the native tribes waged against each other were, he saw, the great obstacle to the progress of New Zealand. The missions were always insecure, for the country was always more or less disturbed. Civil war is, under all circumstances, the bane, and, if persisted in, the ruin of a country; add the ferocity of New Zealand warfare, its cannibalism and its undying spirit of revenge, and nothing more was wanted to degrade the finest country under heaven into a very pit of darkness. All this Mr. Marsden felt; he conceived that if he could succeed in establishing some one chief as supreme, a plan of government might be drawn up securing life and property throughout the island. He consulted Shunghie, Wyatto Riva, and other powerful chieftains. Shunghie's ambitious spirit would have embraced the proposal, the condition being, of course, that he should be the sovereign; but the jealousy of the rest prevented anything like unanimity. Riva justly remarked that to have any superior would degrade them; yet all the chiefs appeared tired of war and the unsettled state consequent upon it. So the project failed. At length he returned home, accompanied by six New Zealand youths, whose eagerness was such that they gladly promised to sleep upon the deck rather than miss the opportunity. Mr. Leigh, the Wesleyan missionary, was also his fellow voyager. Mr. Leigh's opinion of Mr. Marsden and his labours is highly gratifying, and not the less so as coming from one who belonged to another Society. "The shipwreck," he says, "which we have experienced will, I have no doubt, prove favourable to the reputation of the New Zealanders. For several days we were in their power, and they might have taken all that we had with the greatest ease; but instead of oppressing and robbing us, they actually sympathized with us in our trials and afflictions. Mr. Marsden, myself, and Mrs. Leigh, were at a native village for several days and nights, without any food but what the natives brought us; what they had they gave us willingly, and said--'Poor creatures! you have nothing to eat, and you are not accustomed to our kind of food.' I shall never forget the sympathy and kindness of these poor heathens.