That is where a church should always be set, if possible. New Zealand has some picturesque examples of this fitting choice of site. Nelson Cathedral is one that comes to mind. Once upon a time there was a fort there, a redoubt and stockade combined; it was built in 1843 and was named Fort Arthur, after Captain Arthur Wakefield, who was killed at the Wairau. Then when a place of defence was no longer required in Nelson, this principal church naturally was set there, on the hill that commands the principal streets. Taking a jump to the far North, there is a pretty church at the historic village of Kerikeri, Bay of Islands; the Commerce Train tourists saw it the other day. It sits on a mound overlooking the old-fashioned hamlet. St. Bride's Church at Mauku, is another; it is one of the story-churches of our history, for it was stockaded as a fort in the Maori War. The tall spire topping its dark shingled roof looks out over the tree tops on and around its sentry hill.

One with a wider look-out is the tiny Presbyterian Church at Pukekohe East; you catch a glimpse of it from the railway line near Pukekohe town. It is on the high verge of a steep descent to an ancient crater valley; it is painted white and it glints in the sunshine, like a heliograph signal when the westering sun strikes its windows. This church, too, was a war-time fort; there was a lively battle there in 1863, and some of the Maoris who fell in the encounter are buried on the hill-slope.

And there is the prettiest of them all, quite near Wellington—the English Church of old-style design that stands on the beautiful hill, small-wooded like a park, at Pahautanui township (correctly Pauataha-nui); a distant glimpse of it can be got from the railway line near the bridge across the narrow estuary at Paremata. A story-place this, too; the church amid the flowering native trees stands on the site of a Maori fortification of 1846, Te Rangihaeata's palisaded pa.