country in those days, and on further inquiry it was found that a man, with a considerable amount of gold on him, had been known in that district as missing, and was supposed to have been lost in the bush.
In a country so new that it is completely devoid of any historical associations in the past, it is well nigh impossible to imagine any sort of ghost. Often as I have found myself in places never before trodden by man's foot, I have wondered what the general effect will be on the rising generation here, of a country without a past. Scenery there is, much of it splendid in its grandeur; forests primæval, in which for centuries trees have flourished, perished, untouched by saw or axe; mountain peaks, snow fields, great stretches of glacier, extensive plains, streams, lake and rivers, but, until the last few years, absolute solitude so far as any association with man is concerned. In the North Island there are certain associations with Maori history, but not extending over more than some two hundred years, and of a very slight legendary character. In the South Island scarcely any of this, beyond names given to places by wandering natives. It seems to me that the rising genertion will miss much. The Historic imagination, in their case, will have next to nothing to feed on. Life will be intensely practical, in the healthiest conditions of climate, but prosaic. Literature there will be, of course, for all who make use of it, which, as far as books can go, will teach the history of the old country. But imagine the gradual effect of a life spent in a country where you never see relics of past history which take you back to the beginning of the Christian era; ruins, castles, churches, cathedrals, tombs, the handiwork of Celt and Saxon, Angle, Dane and Norman,
