FOOTNOTES:

The year 1875 saw the abolition of the Provinces Act, in which many had from the first scented danger to the cultivation of a national spirit, and a beginning was made in the following year of the present system of local government, the colony being subdivided into counties and municipal boroughs. The old provincial spirit was not easily quenched, for many were not unnaturally inclined to esteem themselves and their own more excellent than their neighbour and his own. Still, there are very few in New Zealand who will venture to deny that to-day is better thanyesterday, although there is at least one "fine old New Zealand gentleman, one of the olden time," who annually brings forward a motion for retrogression to the ancient order of things. Such conservatism is rare in liberal New Zealand, and has few hopes and fewer followers.

A most interesting event occurred in 1877; for Sir George Grey returned to power, not as Governor, but as Premier. He had made for himself a home on an island in the beautiful Hauraki Gulf, and perhaps nothing could have been more fortunate than his presence in the Colony at a time when the new union between Pakeha and Maori required the cement of perfect comprehension to render it irrefragable. Among the colonists there might be disagreement as to Sir George Grey and his policy; among the Maori there was none. To them he was ever theKawana nui(the great Governor), the man who understood them and who cared to understand them.

For his island home the "Knight of the Kawan" did everything which it was possible for a man so liberal and refined to do. He loved it and adorned its beauty with every fresh charm he could procure. He brought thither the English rose and the Australian eucalyptus, and when Australia shall lament the wholesale destruction of her unique fauna, the sole survivors of the quaint marsupial order shall, perhaps, be found in the isle of the Kawana. This charming spot is to-day a favourite resort of holiday-makers, and Sir George Grey's mansion, bereft, alas! of its hospitable founder, still offers visitors shelter and entertainment.

The eightieth birthday of this remarkable man (whom Queen Victoria honoured with her personal friendship) was celebrated in New Zealand with the utmost enthusiasm, and at his death in 1898 there were not many who grudged him the designation of "The Great Proconsul," or cavilled when St. Paul's Cathedral received the honoured dust of one who was not only an Imperialist but a Nation-maker.

In 1886, Nature arose in violent mood and swept into ruin one of the most romantically beautiful spots in the world, and the most powerful and splendid of New Zealand's many scenic attractions—her justly-named "Wonderland." This was the hot lake of Rotomahana, with its far-famed Pink and White Terraces.

In the volcanic region between the Bay of Plenty on the north and Lake Taupo, with its giant sentinels Ruapehu and Tongariro on the south, is Lake Tarawera, overhung by the volcano of Tarawera, which had never in the memory of the Maori given any sign of eruption. A river of the same name connected the lake with the much smaller basin of Rotomahana, in which the water was hot owing to the numerous thermal springs in its immediate vicinity. Rotomahana was really a crater of explosion, and the principal boiling spring, Te Tarata, descending from terrace to terrace down to the lake, was the greatest marvel in this marvellous region.

Upon the Mount of Tarawera were the graves of many generations of Arawa heroes and chiefs of might; nor dared profane feet disturb their rest for fear of the fiery dragon which, though neveryet seen by Maori eyes, kept watch and ward. At the mountain's foot lay the sister lake, into whose waters—green as the stone in far Te Wai Pounamou—flowed the river, charged with a fervent message from hot-hearted Rotomahana with his terraced fringe of white and pink, laced with the blue of pools

which in perfect stillness lie,And give an undistorted image of the sky.

Eighty feet above the warmed water of Rotomahana was the basin of Te Tarata, with wall of clay, thirty feet in height. Its length was eighty feet, its breadth sixty, and it was filled full of exquisitely clear, boiling water, as blue as the sky above the swirl of azure vapour which constantly overhung the wondrous pool.

In the depths, far below the placid surface, sounded ever the rumble and grumble of immense quantities of water on the boil, and the overflow had formed a crystal stairway, white as Parian marble, to the lake beneath. From step to step was the height of a tall man, the breadth of each platform five or six times that measure, and every shining step was an arc of the great circle of which the red-walled crater of Rotomahana was the centre. Each ledge was overhung with stalactites, pure as alabaster, and every platform held its pools of limpid, azure water of all degrees of warmth, in baths whose elegance would have charmed a Roman eye.

On the opposite side of the lake was the spring of Otaka Puarangi, its tranquil blue water confined in a basin little more than half the size of Te Tarata. Itssilicious deposits used to "descend from its orifice down to the lake," and were scaled "by a marble staircase, so sharp in its outline, so regular in its construction, and so adorned with graceful borders of evergreen shrubs that it seemed as if Nature had designed it in very mockery of the skill and industry of man."

But on this side the silica was flushed to a delicate rose, and from every step pink wreaths were hung, and garlands of tinted stone, and on every platform flashed the opalescent stalactites, festooning the ledges, midway down, or dropping from azure pool to azure pool until they reached the goldensolfatara[70]and the rainbowed mud.

One hour after midnight on the 10th of June, men who dwelt or sojourned in this beautiful, dangerous region were awakened by the trembling of the earth and, knowing what that portended, rushed from their houses into the open to see the Mount of Tarawera rent asunder from top to bottom, while from the gaping wound shot up a column of roaring flame, whose capital of smoke and cloud reared itself four and twenty thousand feet above the blazing crater—a beacon of misfortune four miles high.

Red lightning played in fork and spiral about the flaming crags or sheeted the gloomy base, and many miles away from the convulsed mountain streams of fire poured upon the stricken earth. Fire-balls fell, a blazing hail, consuming whatsoever they touched, and burying beneath their increasing weight the remains of lonely hut and crowded native village.

When the pallid light of the winter dawn struggled through the dense veil of falling debris, Tarawera's mount was seen to be shivered as though smitten by the hammer of Thor; Tarawera's lake had risen forty feet, the trees beside its margin buried to their tops in volcanic mud; Tarawera's river and Rotomahana's lovely terraces were gone for ever, submerged beneath an enormous mass of ashes, mud, and stone.

For eighteen hours dust and mud fell continuously, burying fifty feet deep the entirehapuof the Matatu Maori, all save nine, and raining desolation as far as Tauranga on the Bay. Pasture land, grass and fern were burnt bare, and the same volcanic hail which slew the birds in their flight blotted out the food-supply and starved the very rats in the undergrowth.

One hundred and one persons perished in this eruption, which was not only the fiercest and most destructive which New Zealand had known since the coming of the Maori, but was one of the most violent recorded in the story of the world.

From year to year New Zealand strode on, giving her women the franchise as she went, and calling upon them to help her in the conduct of municipal affairs. She seldom marked time, and ever held her head high and preserved a proud distinction of her own among the three and forty colonies or dependencies of the Empire. If she once got a little out of breath through the sheer rush of her onward march, the firm hand of a strong man steadied her, sending her on again,integris viribus, with greater speed. InRichard Seddon, a man of immense energy and remarkable gifts, who for thirteen years stood at the head of the State and guided her towards the high status she has now obtained, New Zealand found her man of the hour. Fortunate, too, it was for her that, on the great Premier's untimely death in 1906, so strong a man as Sir Joseph Ward was at hand to take his place.

As the nineteenth century waned to a close, the important question fell to be answered by New Zealand—Should she, or should she not, allow herself to be enrolled among the States of the Australian Commonwealth? Federation had been in the air for a long time, and since 1891 it had been recognised that it must come, and come soon,—as far as Australia was concerned. But would New Zealand take her place among the States?

There were arguments in favour of her doing so from the point of view of commercial and administrative expediency; but there were very many who did not like the idea. These pointed to the thousand miles of ocean which separated their country from the continent of Australia as an argument against inclusion with her great neighbour, and to her remarkable progress as proof that she had learned, and could be trusted to stand alone.

In 1899 the question required an answer; but Mr. Seddon still declared himself uncertain of the popular will, and in 1900 craved the Imperial Parliament to insert an "open door" clause in the Constitution, in order that New Zealand might enter at her own time on equal terms with the other States.

A Royal Commission was then appointed, with the result that, after an exhaustive discussion of the arguments for and against the proposal, and the hearing of voluminous evidence on both sides of the Tasman Sea, the Commission declared emphatically against the submersion of New Zealand's identity in that of the Commonwealth of Australia.

Australia was dubious, and Mr. Reid, Premier of New South Wales, asked, "How long will New Zealand be able to preserve an independent orbit in the presence of a powerful gravitation and attraction, such as a federated Australia must possess?" No one could answer that; but New Zealand was firm, and a reply was to some extent contained in Sir Joseph Ward's later declaration, "I consider this country (New Zealand) is certainly the natural centre for the government of the South Pacific."

So New Zealand elected to stand alone; and, this done, the question immediately arose—Was she, with all her natural advantages, with her remarkable progress, to remain a mere undistinguished unit among the crowd of dependencies, simply one colony among a number of other colonies? The answer came as immediately—No! The New Zealanders determined to find a suitable designation by which their country should be honourably distinguished. What was to be that designation?

It remained for Sir Joseph Ward to answer that In May, 1907, being in London after the Conference of Colonial Premiers, he wrote to Lord Elgin, the Secretary of State for the Colonies, and repeated what he had urged at that historic gathering; that,"having regard to the position and importance of New Zealand, it had well outgrown the 'colonial' stage, and was as much entitled to a separate designation as the Commonwealth of Australia or the Dominion of Canada." He further declared that "the people of New Zealand would be much gratified" if the designation chosen were "The Dominion of New Zealand."

FOOTNOTES:[70]A pool of smoking sulphur.

[70]A pool of smoking sulphur.

CHAPTER XXX

THE DOMINION OF NEW ZEALAND

The Prayer

Resolution by the Parliament of the Colony of New Zealand

"That this House respectfully requests that His Majesty the King may be graciously pleased to take such steps as he may consider necessary in order that the designation of New Zealand be changed from "Colony of New Zealand" to the "Dominion of New Zealand"; and that a respectful address be presented to His Excellency the Governor, requesting him to transmit this resolution for submission to His Majesty."

The Answer

The text of His Majesty the King's Proclamation, conferring the title of Dominion upon the Colonyof New Zealand. Read by His Excellency the Governor (Lord Plunket) from the steps of Parliament House, Wellington, New Zealand, at eleven o'clock in the morning of Thursday 26th of September, 1907.

"Whereas We have, on the petition of the members of the Legislative Council and the House of Representatives of Our Colony of New Zealand, determined that the title of the Dominion of New Zealand shall be substituted for that of the Colony of New Zealand as the designation of the said Colony. We have, therefore, by and with the advice of Our Privy Council, thought fit to issue this, Our Royal Proclamation, and We do ordain, declare, and command, that on and after the 26th day of September 1907, the said Colony of New Zealand and the territory belonging thereto shall be called and known by the title of the Dominion of New Zealand, and We hereby give Our command to all public departments accordingly.

"Edward Rex."

III

Dominion Day

"Ab actu ad posse valet illatio"

So New Zealand, having resisted the blandishments of her big neighbour, and refused to allow her identity to be submerged in the Commonwealthof Australia, craved a gift from the King, who gave her what she craved,—a designation which should convince the world that she had climbed from the ruck of the colonies into a position of distinction. Few would in any case have denied this; but the change of designation made, as was intended, New Zealand's improved status apparent to all.

The gift of this new designation was a public recognition of New Zealand's right to take her place on equal terms among the great self-governing colonies, and in asking for such recognition New Zealand did wisely. Great names were in the air in the South Sea, and for New Zealand not to have chosen one, now that she had elected to stand alone, would have been deliberately to hide her light under the bushel of self-effacement, and quite unnecessarily to seek a lower place than that which Australia had assumed.

So, King Edward having granted her petition, His Excellency the Governor, Lord Plunket, at eleven o'clock on Thursday morning the 26th of September, 1907, read in public His Majesty's Proclamation, and New Zealand ceased to be a Colony and became a Dominion.

And what of New Zealand's future? The only possible answer to that at present is in the words quoted at the head of this section. God in His wisdom hides the future from our eyes, but it is allowable to construe the future from the past; it is permissible to infer what will be from what has been, and it is only reasonable to admit that nonewho know New Zealand's past ought to have any well-grounded fears for her future. What she has done she will do again yet more perfectly: what she has not done, but has a mind to do, she will accomplish.

Less than seventy years ago New Zealand, like her own peculiar birds, themoaand thekiwi, was unable to fly; but, like them, she could and did run very fast. Then, as in the course of years—and few enough of them—her wings grew, she did not hesitate, but accomplished flight after flight, each more daring than the last, until her pinions, like those of the albatross of her own seas, now bear her untired whithersoever she will.

"Ab actu ad posse valet illatio!" What New Zealand has done she will do. Even if she never attain to the position which Sir Joseph Ward seems to consider should be hers, and become the actual as well as the natural centre for the government of the South Pacific, she can still soar as high in her proud independence, and perhaps higher, if she ever strive to attain to Sir Joseph Ward's ideal, "a true Dominion in the head and heart of her own people."

What New Zealand has done she will do. It is not yet seventy years since Captain Hobson, in presence of a few white folk, read his commission as Lieutenant-Governor of islands which were declared to be a mere extension of the boundaries of New South Wales. Wellington was not yet founded; Auckland was yet to be born; the Crown and the Company were for a time to divide the house against itself; the good will of the Maoriwas still to win and, since British sovereignty had not been declared, other claimants for possession had to be baffled.

Yet with all these drawbacks and difficulties New Zealand was able not to struggle on, but to leap boldly from childhood into a youth which was fortunately vigorous, since in this phase she had not only to adjust a quarrel here and there, but to fight for her very existence. When the doors of the temple of Janus were at last shut after nearly thirty years of intermittent war, New Zealand set her feet firmly upon the high road of industrial progress and strode forward; nor has she since looked back.

Is it likely that with the knowledge and experience she has gained she will do less than she was able to do when she had everything to learn? The idea is inconceivable.

No. New Zealand accomplished much in her weakness, and in her strength she will accomplish more. If she has made good laws, she will make yet better and continue to legislate, as she has always done, not for the benefit of one class or section of the community, but for the common good. If she was able to hold her own against the strong, brave race she dispossessed and reinstated under better conditions, that "baptism of fire" shall avail to teach her how to arm against the jealousy of nations, older, it may be, than herself, and envious of her vineyard. Has she not already fought nobly for the Motherland, and shall she not know how to defend her own? More than once, indeed, she has been styled the "Britain of the South." What if SirJoseph Ward's haughty assumption of her right to rule the South Pacific by virtue of geographical position be some day so fully recognised as truth that she shall acquire the right by the might of added moral superiority?

If that day come, will New Zealand be happier? That waits to be seen. Yet she should in any case be happy, even though she mount not one step higher than that to which she has attained. Climate, soil, position and natural beauty, laws, social and commercial success, all unite to feed her hunger for happiness, and to satisfy. Save that Man must ever sigh for something which he has not, what more can she crave than that which God has already given her? Even now she may most fitly sing in a full-throated burst of rejoicing:

Last, loneliest, loveliest, exquisite, apart—On us, on us, th' unswerving season smiles,Who wonder, 'mid our fern, why men departTo seek the Happy Isles!

A ekore ana tatau e tutakina i te ao. A e kawea te kororia me te honore o nga Tauiwi ki reira.

Wakakitenga xxi. 25-26 (Revelation).

Translation.—And the gates thereof shall in no wise be shut by day: and they shall bring the glory and the honour of the nations into it.

INDEX

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