When the cheering had subsided, taken up again and again, as it was from the outer hall and even from the lawn, by the tenants and villagers, who, if they could not see, could at least judge by the storm of voices as to the nature of the address which had called it forth, Sir Roland stood up and faced the crowd of guests, who cheered again and again as though they never intended to stop. He commenced with studied calmness, thanking them all, his good friends and neighbours, the old friends of the house, and those among whom he had lived so long in friendship, he might say affectionate intimacy, until circumstances, apparently, made it necessary for him to leave the home of his childhood. They would doubtless appreciate the greatness of the sacrifice, the bitterness of feeling, with which he quitted the home of his race. He resolved to go as far as was possible from home and its memories, and had, in fact, gone so far South that the Pole only would have been the next abiding-place. It was a British outpost, however, well deserving the name of the Britain of the South; destined in years to come to be the home, the prosperous home, of millions of the men of our race, and one of the brightest jewels in the Imperial crown. Difficulties had arisen with the Maori nation, a proud, a brave, a highly intelligent people, who had made the best defence in war against British regulars by an aboriginal race since the days when the stubborn valour of the ancient Britons scarce yielded to the legionaries of Rome. (Tremendous cheering.) That war, fraught with disastrous losses in men and officers to Britain's bravest regiments, was now over, he was rejoiced to say. There might be irregular fighting from time to time, but the high chiefs had surrendered, and vast areas of the most fertile land in the world had now become the property of the Crown. He himself held what might be considered an incredibly large domain, which must prove of great value in time to come. He would not mention the number of acres. He was _not_ going back there. (Redoubled cheering.) He could assure them of that fact, though in days to come another Massinger Court might arise beneath the Southern Cross. (Renewed cheering.) He was as fixed here, under Providence (he told them now), as the "King's Oak" in the Chase. (Loud and prolonged cheering.) He and his wife had experienced a sufficiency of adventure, by land and sea, to last them for their natural lives. They desired, in all humility, to return heartfelt thanks to Almighty God for their restoration to this pleasant home, and those dear friends whom at one time they never thought to see again. They hoped to prove their gratitude, by lives of usefulness in their day and generation. * * * * *