The combination of whaler and convict was not one calculated to strengthen the morality of the community, and so large a leaven of the lawless class, together with the insatiable desire of the natives to procure muskets, had the effect of creating a state of society which, in the words of the Foreign Secretary, "indispensably required the check of some contending authority." In the absence of any such authority the more respectable settlers at the Bay of Islands had organised themselves into a self-constituted Association, into whose hands was committed the administration of a rude justice, which recognised a liberal application of tar and feathers as meet punishment for some of the offences against society. A steadying influence had also been supplied by the appointment at intervals since 1814 of gentlemen empowered to act as Justices of the Peace, their authority being derived from a Commission issued by the Governor of New South Wales, and, if illegal, was on more than one occasion acted upon with salutary effect.[2] Although it has been a popular sport on the part of many writers to throw darts of sarcasm at the labours of the Missionaries, they, too, must be accounted a tremendous influence for good, not so much, perhaps, in checking the licentiousness of the Europeans, as in preventing the natives from becoming contaminated by it. Destructive internecine wars had been waging "with fiendish determination" for many years under the conquering leadership of Hongi, Te Wherowhero, Te Waharoa and Te Rauparaha, by which whole districts had been depopulated, and tribe after tribe practically annihilated. Still the Maori people were a numerous, virile and warlike race, capable of deeds of blackest barbarism, or equally adaptable to the softening influences of Christianity and civilisation. So far as the darker side of their history is concerned, we have it on the irreproachable authority of the Rev. Samuel Marsden that the tragedies in which the natives made war upon the Europeans were in almost every instance merely acts of retaliation for earlier outrages.[3] The killing of Marian du Fresne and the massacre on board the _Boyd_ were unquestionably so; and the dread of the natives which for several years after these events almost suspended the sea trade with New Zealand was the natural fruit of that cruelty which trusting Maori seamen had suffered at the hands of unscrupulous captains, who had either inveigled them or forced them on board their whalers. Dark as the history of New Zealand was during these Alsatian days, there is no chapter quite so dark, or which redounds less to the credit of the white race, than the story of the sea-going natives who were taken away from these sunny shores,[4] and abandoned in foreign countries, or driven at the end of the lash to tasks far beyond their physical strength, resulting in the premature death of many, while the poison of undying hatred entered into the souls of the survivors.