AN UNCONVERTED NATIVE. 295 
shoulders of four men ; and I turned back with 
them to their resting-place, and endeavoured to 
enter into conversation with the sick man. He 
listened, but it was evidently with the expectation, 
that, if he did not listen, I should not go to his 
residence on the morrow, to administer medicine, 
or to give him tea and other things that would 
promote liis comfort. I said but little, thinking 
that I might find a more suitable opportunity 
than the present, as night was coming on, and 
the person to whom I was addressing myself had 
a long way to be carried on an open couch. I 
visited him several times before his death: he 
was living nearly ten miles from the Kerikeri, 
and my visits could not therefore be so frequent 
as I wished. He did not, however, die till after the 
establishment of the settlement at the Waimate; 
where, in liis last days, I had opportunities of pay- 
ing liiin more frequent visits, and of giving him 
‘‘ line upon line, and precept upon precept."’ I 
never observed that he paid the least attention : 
even to the last, his heart seemed as hard as the 
nether millstone ; and he was much encouraged, 
in his opposition, by the jeers of those by whom 
he was surrounded. “ If God can cure my body, 
why does he not do so ? and then I would believe 
what you tell me about my soul ” — was an expres- 
sion he made use of, the last day I saw him. ‘‘ Let 
your God take away the pain out of my hand, 
and head, and side; let him make me well; and 
tliat will be such a sign, that every body will then 
