view of the rate among the rural poor. At
present, they throw themselves upon it wherever
they can make their case, and look upon
it as their birthright. The repeal of the
Small Tenements Act, and the compelling
of all cottagers to pay their fair share of the
rate, would quickly change their practice. It
is idle to pretend that it could never be collected.

So long as the poor can help themselves for
nothing from the rate, they will. The moment
its incidence falls on them, however lightly, a
good common-sense argument against the custom
is supplied. In cases of distress, the demand
on an Englishman's pocket is readily responded
to, but he buttons it up indignantly against
imposition. The rural poor share the feeling as
much as their wealthier neighbours, and should
have the opportunity of manifesting it on fit
occasions. The indirect payment of poor-rate
in cottage rents is a dead letter; nobody can
take that into account in dealing with the
question. But the return to the old custom
will, in these better times, act as a most
healthy stimulant to independence; and we
should soon see benefit societies, freed of the
obstacles caused by the present state of the
poor-law, working out—so long as peace and
plenty are bestowed upon the land— the happiest
results.

While we go on as we do, there will be no
lack of a plentiful crop of paupers in our Union,
the progeny of very early marriages, of which
poor-law provides the settlement; or, what is
worse, of abandoned poor women, many of whom
might, but for the contamination of being legally
herded together, have been respectable and
happy. Of course there will be no lack of
people who will better the teaching of poor-
law on the subject of family influences, and
rank as bad sons, bad brothers, bad husbands
and fathers, and, at last, notorious criminals.
No community is without such characters.
But what judgment must in future times be
passed on the rules and regulations which,
instead of promoting good influences to the
utmost, deliberately sapped them, or threw
them aside as unconsidered trifles? Is there
one influence for good among us, which can be
spared?

To those who look on the subject only as a
monetary question, it may be sufficient to point
out the threepence in the shilling now saved by
self-help, and ask whether, with increased
encouragement to the new system struggling
among us, the saving will stop at threepence.
But that is not the whole question. The
poor have a right to ask that relief in their
distress shall not expose them to evils more
bitter than poverty. Their struggles for
independence ought not to be clogged with
conditions which all but stifle honest enterprise.
Their improvidence should not be encouraged
by a system devised for their benefit: least of
all, should their houses and families be broken
up, and parents, brothers, and sisters, scarcely
suffered to meet, under the plea of providing
for them an asylum in their need. No care,
no kindness, can remedy such evils as I here
complain of, if it stop short of a thorough
reformation.

A MAORI COURT-MARTIAL.

MY friend Highandry was a fine specimen of
a "native Australian," as white men born in the
colonies are called. Originally a baker's boy,
by dint of study and perseverance he had so
raised himself, that, at the time when I first made
his acquaintance, he occupied one of the most
distinguished positions in the colony. His varied
abilities, and the extensive fund of information
which he had acquired upon every subject, rendered
his conversation peculiarly interesting;
and, as in addition to this, he was a fearless
rider, and a crack shot, I found him a very
agreeable companion. With his antecedents and
qualifications, his career, as may be imagined,
had been very diversified, and nothing afforded
me greater pleasure than to hear him relate his
adventures; for, coming fresh from England, I
had been greatly interested by the novel scenes
and incidents of a life at the antipodes. Highandry
gave me the following account of his experience
of Maori law.

In the year eighteen hundred and blank, I
happened to have some business, on account of
which it was necessary that I should visit
Auckland. I accordingly proceeded there, and
was certainly not struck by its beauty or
convenience, for I had never been an admirer of
wooden huts and quagmires. However, the
people were well enough, and I soon made
plenty of friends, one of whom, Mr. Mitlington,
invited me to visit him in the bush, as he
was living a few miles out of Auckland, and,
consequently, was not overmuch troubled with
society. Such an invitation was anything but
distasteful to me, and having at length finished
my business in town, I started off to enjoy
myself in the country. A sailing-boat was my
mode of transport, as Mitlington lived but a
short distance from the sea-shore; moreover, if
I had at all wished to go by land, I shouldn't
have found the slightest apology for a road. So,
one bright morning, I left Auckland, our little
craft, with all sail set, bounding along as if she
too felt the exhilarating influence of a southern
atmosphere when tempered by a southern breeze.
Fortunately this breeze continued, and by the
middle of the day we sighted the welcome smoke
which assured us that Mitlington was not forgetful
of our creature-comforts, and our appetites
being pretty keen, we lost not a moment,
I can assure you, in landing. Having hauled up
our boat on the beach, we made the best of our
way to the house, which was comfortable if not
grand, and where we met with a hearty welcome
aud a well-spread table. Our dinner occupied
us for some time, and it was late in the afternoon
before the men, whom I engaged to bring
me, began to think of returning. When they