FINE SPECIMEN OF MAORI—EFFECT OF THE GOSPEL UPON HIM—HIS EXCELLENT FAMILY.

"Piripi" (Philip in English) Te Maari, the subject of this sketch, was one of the first Maoris to embrace the Gospel in New Zealand, when the Elders opened up the work there in 1882. Truly Philip was one of nature's noblemen. He stood six-foot-one in his stockings; was as straight as an arrow; was handsome and, before his death in 1897, he became almost white; his hair and beard were as white as snow and always kept neatly trimmed. He had a very stately walk, and on seeing him approach one would intuitively stand erect and throw his shoulders back.

His face wore a smile that captivated and drew men and children alike to him. He was a leader among men, not alone among his own people, but among Europeans, with whom he mingled and had dealings; all learned to know his worth and that he was a man far above the average in knowledge and goodness. He was chosen by the English government and by his own people to represent the Maoris in the Colonial Government. He also held many other positions of honor and trust among his people and the whites. He was possessed of considerable wealth, and owned a city and a country home, where he entertained many people, sometimes members of the nobility, who were on business for the Government. A most praiseworthy fact is that the poorest of the poor were just as welcome under his roof as the wealthy were. All were treated alike.

His home life was simple. He was most devoted to his wife and children. He loved to take them to his country home and spend his spare time with them in the woods, the fields and in the mountains, where all nature smiled on them. He felt that he could get closer to his boys and girls there and teach them the lesson of life more effectually than in the city, where he was kept so busy with affairs of the Government and native officials.

He had seven sons and two daughters. At the death of his beloved wife he mourned full seventy days—an old Israelitish custom. At the opening of the Gospel in Maoridom, in 1882, this man had never heard of "Mormonism." He was surrounded by worldly friends—both white and native—and possessed of wealth and lands. With these surroundings followed banqueting, games, and English horse races.

He owned several very fine race horses. With all these temptations he lived a good and pure life. He however, as was the custom of the country, was a user of tobacco. This he was very fond of. The class of people he entertained at his home frequently indulged in the use of intoxicants; but these "Piripi" never tasted.

He attended the Episcopalian church, but always felt that there was something lacking, and he was looking for something to satisfy his spirit. The manner in which he became acquainted with the Gospel was related by him to the writer in substance as follows:

"Two strange men came to our home. They were unheralded by any pomp or display. They were not so much as dressed in the ordinary gown and tall hat worn by our preachers. They were clothed in very plain, but exceptionally clean clothing. There was something very different about them from our ministers. We had been in the habit of building homes for our preachers, and fed them a little better than the ordinary folks; but when these things were offered to these two preachers from a strange land—the "land of the rising sun"—America, they said: 'No, we are your fellow servants, we are here to do you service, your superiors. Let us eat with you, and of what you eat.'

"Imagine our amazement—preachers eating out of a common family dish, and with natives too! They had with them a new book, which they explained was the history of my people before they came to this land. They read portions of it to us and explained that the people of whom it spoke had lived and died in the great land to the east—the 'land of the rising sun'. We had been told by one of our native seers that the true Gospel of the Lord would be brought to the Maoris, by white men, who would come from 'the land of the rising sun.'

These men were very humble, and would not accept any of our lands, as pay; nor did they meddle with our women, but spent day and night in preaching and teaching us. We soon accepted the Gospel, and can not tell you half our joy and how the Holy Spirit was poured out upon us. And to know that we really were of the House of Israel. Why this alone brought joy unspeakable to our souls. We received that long-looked for something that we had before lacked."

"But now," said Piripi, "came the hardest task of all. They told us the good news, that we had a right to the Priesthood, and could act as ministers to our people. They were instructed to organize a branch among us; and that, should we qualify ourselves, the authority would be given us to be spiritual leaders among our kindred. We must lay aside the use of tobacco and we must not gamble nor race horses. They did not require us to 'sign the pledge' nor don the 'blue ribbon.' They were to be gone a month, and during this time we were to consider, and fast and pray and ask the Lord to help us decide.

"O, friends I will never forget my feelings. Had our other ministers requested that we conform to this ruling we would not have done so. There was not the comfort there to lead us to make sacrifices. I dearly loved my tobacco, and would have parted with all my wealth and lands rather than forsake the pipe. I did get so much good—comfort—out of it; and my blooded race horses were the pride of the land. But this new information—that 'we were of Israel' and might be ministers to our kindred—was a blessing not to be refused. They said, 'pray, fast and ask the Great Spirit to help you to decide.'

"I took my pipe and tobacco and left my home early on the morning that the Elders took their departure. Reaching a little plateau up in the hills, I found a huge rock. I sat down by it and cut up my tobacco and filled my pipe full, then took out some matches and placed them all on top of the stone. Then I stepped back a few paces. I looked at them and said to myself: 'There,' pointing to the things on the rock, 'is the devil, and there,' pointing away up the valley and over the hills in the direction of the Elders, 'is the Priesthood. Which shall I obey, God or the Devil?' Then I went to the opposite side of the rock and prayed for help. When I returned I had decided. I said, 'I will not smoke my pipe again.' Then I took a stone and broke the pipe into fragments. On the second and third days I can not tell the trials through which I went, and how I was tempted. By reason of the fasting and denying myself tobacco I became deathly sick, and on the third day, something suggested to me that my oath was that I would not smoke my pipe again, but that I did not say 'I will not use tobacco again.' 'Piripi, try a cigarette; it is the going without a smoke that makes you so ill.' I yielded and smoked two, but I did not improve, so I said, 'I will never use tobacco again in any form. Old Satan is trying to cheat me out of the Priesthood that rightfully belongs to me.' When the Elders returned I had—by the help of the Lord—conquered, and was prepared to receive the blessings that had been promised."

Later this good man disposed of all of his race horses, and worked for the uplift of his people, and died as he lived—true to the faith. A most remarkable thing is that all of his children followed in his footsteps, and are now leading pillars in the Church. He assisted in proof-reading the Book of Mormon when it was translated into his language. He died in 1897. His life was an inspiration to all who knew him. What he did in the matter of controlling his appetite, and the comfort he experienced as a result, should encourage others to try to do so.

L. G. H.