JUDGE MANNING.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1091, 10 April 1883, Page 3

JUDGE MANNING.

Judge Maniiig, the author of Old New Zealand, as most of our readers are aware, is suffering from a cancer, and lies at the point of death in London whither he had been ordered by his medical advisers. The following is the concluding portion of a letter he writes to Mr Wickham, editor of the Auckland Free Lance :

This is a miserable climate—dark, dismal, foggy, cold. Oh, how I do long to get back to that lovely country and climate where the sun shines and the country is so picturesque, to die amongst you all, my friends. It canuot be, however; I must linger out a certain space in pain, and lemain in what is to me a foreign land. I have, however met with a few friends here. Mr Jackson's brother, Dr Jackson, is a very fine fellow and very kind, and comes to sec me. Mr S. Morrin visited me to-day ; he. is very ill, poor tellow, and cannot return soon. I also have been visited by Captain Daldy's brother; had a call from Mr Domett, our ancient Premier, whom I knew at Wellington ; and many others are kind and ready to do me service.

I have nothing more to say but farewell. I have nothing more to do in this world but to die, as quietly as I can. The doctors say they can prevent me having too much pain. I may linger out severalmonths, and so might have time to get a line or two from you which would be a great pleasure. I am sorry I am prevented from writing a book, an endeavor to make out some of the ancient history and migrations of the Maori race, of which I have got some very surprising glimpses. I can look at the prospects of death with equanimity, thank God, and hope I may do so to the end ; it is the long pain I repine at. I have caught myself smiling more than once at the idea of the fuss we sometimes make about dying, seeing we all know we must die, and what an insignificant thing an individual man is on the earth, less than a mote in the sunbeam; though of mighty consequence to ourselves, as we feel too often for our peace. The priests tell us mapy tales ; and we really know nothing of the future, nor why all things exist, but I do believe in God — the sign is our conscience-?-and that men were not made for an evil purpose or end, and that we may lie down having a trust, and hope that a future state may be no harm to us, though few have earned much good. Remember me sincerely to Dr Pollen and all Auckland friends. I wish I could get back to die amongst you. Wield the Lance in the cause of right and common sense—that is the beat, though of course you must be with a party. Now farewell? my dear sir ; and farewell, beautiful New Zealand —would that I might rest there, but it cannot be.