I shall only so far trespass on the patience of my readers, as to mention a few circumstances tending to delineate the character of the natives.

They seemed to be a people perfectly satisfied with the little they already possess; nor are they remarkably curious either in their observations or their inquiries.
New objects are so far from striking them with such a degree of surprise as might naturally be expected, that they scarcely fix their attention even for a moment.

In the arts with which they are acquainted, they shew as much ingenuity, both in invention and execution, as any uncivilized nations under similar circumstances.
Without the least use of those tools which are formed of metal, they make every thing that is necessary to procure their subsistence, clothing, and military weapons; and all this is done by them with a neatness, a strength, and a convenience, that are well adapted to the accomplishment of the several purposes they have in view.

No people can have a quicker sense of an injury done to them than the New Zealanders, or be more ready to resent it; and yet they want one characteristic of true bravery; for they will take an opportunity of being insolent, when they think that there is no danger of their being punished.

From the number of their weapons, and their dexterity in using them, it appears, that war is their principal profession.
Indeed, their public contentions are so frequent, or rather so perpetual, that they must live under continual apprehensions of being destroyed by each other.