« ПредишнаНапред »
many, many days, and had long fondly above that bot spring was the village of glanced each at the other, Tutanekai sent a Tutanekai, and swimming, at last she reached messenger to Hine-Moa, to tell of his love; the island of Mokoia. and when Hine-Moa had seen the messenger, “ At the place where she landed on the she said, 'Eh-hu! have we then each loved island, there is a hot spring separated from alike?"
the lake only by a narrow ledge of rocks ;
this is it, it is called, as I just said, WaikiSome time after this a dispute arose
mihia. Hine-Moa got into this to warm among the brothers as to who was most
herself, for she was trembling all over, partly favoured by Hine-Moa,and they treated
from the cold, after swimming in the night
across the wide lake of Rotorua, and partly Tutanekai's pretensions with scorn, as
also, perhaps, from modesty, at the thoughts he was a low-born, illegitimate fellow;
of meeting Tutanekai. but he confided to his father their mu
“Whilst the maiden was thus warming tual affection, for they had agreed that herself in the hot spring, Tutanekai hapon the first opportunity, Hine-Moa pened to feel thirsty, and said to his servant, should elope to bim, finding him by “ Bring me a little water;' so his servant the sound of the trumpet, which he went to fetch water for him, and drew it was to sound every night:
from the lake in a calabash, close to the spot where Hine-Moa was sitting. The maiden,
wlio was frightened, called out to him in a “Now always about the middle of the
gruff voice, like that of a man, “Whom is night Tutanekai, and his friend Tiki, went
that water for ?' He replied, “It's for up into their balcony and played, the one
Tutanekai.' Give it here, then,' said upon his trumpet, the other upon his flute,
Hine-Moa. And he gave her the water, and and Hine-Moa heard them, and desired
she drank, and having finished drinking, purvastly to paddle in her canoe to Tutanekai;
posely threw down the calabash and broke but her friends, suspecting something, had
it. Then the servant asked her, “What been careful with the canoes, to leave none
business had you to break the calabash of afloat, but had hauled them all up upon the
Tutanekai?" But Hine-Moa did not say a shore of the lake; and thus her friends had
word in answer. The servant then went always done for many days and for many
back, and Tutanekai said to him, "Where is nights.
the water I told you to bring me?' So he * At last she reflected in her heart, say
answered, 'Your calabash was broken.' ing, "How can I then contrive to cross the
And his master asked him, "Who broke it?' lake to the island of Mokoia ?-it can plainly
and he answered, “The man who is in the be seen that my friends suspect what I am
bath.' And Tutanckai said to him, Go going to do.' So she sat down upon the
back again then, and fetch me some water.'” ground to rest; and then soft measures reached her from the horn of Tutanekai, and the young and beautiful chieftainess felt as
This occurred several times, till at if an earthquake shook her to make her go
last Tutanekai started up in a rage, to the beloved of her heart; but then arose
and threw on his clothes, and took his the recollection that there was no canoe. club intending to chastise the insolence At last she thought, perhaps I might be able of the man who had dared to break his to swim across. So she took six large dry calabashes; and when he came to the empty gourds as floats, lest she should sink bath and called outin the water, three of them for each side, and she went out upon a rock, which is “ Hine-Moa knew the voice, that the named Iri-iri-kapua, and from thence to the sound of it was that of the beloved of her edge of the water, to the spot called Waire- heart; and she hid herself under the overrewai, and there she threw off her clothes hanging rocks of the hot spring; but her and cast herself into the water, and she hiding was hardly a real hiding, but rather reached the stump of a sunken tree which a bashful concealing of herself from Tutaused to stand in the lake, and was called nekai, that he might not find her at once, Hinewhata, and she clung to it with her but only after trouble and careful searching hands, and rested to take breath, and when for her; so he went feeling about along the she had a little eased the weariness of her banks of the hot spring, searching everyshoulders, she swam on again, and whenever where, whilst she coyly hid under the ledges she was exhaused she floated with the cur- of the rock, peeping out, wondering when rent of the lake, supported by the gourds, she would be found. At last he caught hold and after recovering strength she swam on of a hand, and cried out, “Hollo, who's this? again ; but she could not distinguish in which And Hine-Moa answered, “It's I, Tutanedirection she should proceed, from the dark- kai.' And he said, “But who are you? ness of the night ; her only guide was, how- who's I ? Then she spoke louder, and said, ever, the soft measure from the instrument “It's I, it is Hine-Moa.' And he said, “ Ho! of Tutanekai-that was the mark by wbich ho! ho!can such, in very truth, be the case? she swam straight to Waikimihia, for just let us two then go to my house.' And she
answered, “Yes ;' and she rose up in the out feeling how "one touch of nature water as beautiful as the wild white hawk, makes the whole world kin?" The and stepped upon the edge of the bath as rude Maori with his war-club, and his graceful as the shy, white crane: and he
stone-axe, his tatooed skin, and his threw garments over her and took her, and
matted cloak, full of revenge on his they proceeded to his house, and reposed
enemies, reckless of life, fierce and there; and thenceforth, according to the ancient laws of the Maori, they were man
savage even to cannibalism, slaying, and wife.
killing, and eating a man, on slight “When the morning dawned, all the peo
provocation, or perhaps upon none at ple of the village went forth from their houses all, has yet a soul and a heart open to all to cook their breakfasts, and they all ate; the beauties of nature, and accessible but Tutanekai tarried in his house. So Wha- to all the soft influences of love. Poetry kaue said, “This is the first morning that and song are his delight-not only the Tutanekai has slept in this way ; perhaps, war-chant, but the love-song; and his the lad is ill — bring him here - rouse him
love is not solely the mere animal imup.' Then the man who was to fetch him
pulse, but as evinced by the above went, and drew back the sliding wooden window of the house, and peeping in, saw four
poem, full of sentiment, delicacy and feet. Oh! he was greatly amazed, and said
grace, natural and artless, but refined to himself, “Who can this companion of his
and modest, and blending easily with be? However, he had seen quite enough,
music and with flowers, cherished by and turning about, hurried back as fast as the soft sunsets and moonlit evenings he could to Whakaue, and said to him, of the summer, the natural efflorescence • Why, there are four feet, I saw them my- of the youthful soul among the Maoris self in the house.' Whakaue answered, as among ourselves. Which of us men • Who's his companion, then ? hasten back would not have loved Hine-Moa, and and see.' So back he went to the house, and
have felt for Tutenakai as for a friend peeped in at them again, and then for the
and a brother? first time he saw it was Hine-Moa. Then he shouted out in his amazement, 'Oh!
We have given but a few of the lehere's Hine-Moa, here's Hine-Moa, in the
gends and stories in Sir G. Grey's book, house of Tutanekai;' and all the village heard
and are obliged to omit many passages him, and there arose cries on every side
we had marked for extract. Among "Oh! here's Line-Moa, here's Hine-Moa with these were some having important Tutanekai.' And his elder brothers heard bearings on the manners, and customs, the shouting, and they said, 'It is not true!' and past history of the people. An acfor they were very jealous, indeed. Tutanekai count of the graceful dancing (or gesthen appeared coming from his house, and
ture-making, as we should call it) of a Hine-Moa following him, and his elder bro
young chieftainess at page 266, might thers saw that it was indeed Hine-Moa; and
be given as a literal account of that of they said, “It is true! it is a fact!' " After these things, Tiki thought within
a Malay dancing-girl. The graceful himself, Tutanekai has married line-Moa,
bending of the arms, and the lissom ness she whom he loved; but as for me, alas! I
of the wrist, as shown by reverting have no wife;' and he became sorrowful, and
the fingers till their tips touched the returned to his own village. And Tutanekai centre of the forearms is in each case was grieved for Tiki ; and he said to Wha- accounted a great beauty, all the mokaue, 'I am quite ill from grief for my tions of the body being light and gracefriend, Tiki;' and Wbakaue said, "What ful as that of a person swimming or do you mean?' And Tutanekai replied, • I
floating in the air. refer to my young sister, Tupa, let her
At another passage a date is given, be given as a wife to my beloved friend, to Tiki;' and his reputed father, Wa
since eleven generations, or two hun. kaue, consented to this; so his young
dred and seventy-five years, are said to sister, Tupa, was given to Tiki, and she be
have passed since the marriage of a came his wife.
certain chieftain, though, as the story * The descendants of Hine-Moa and of is evidently a modern one, and does Tutanekai are at this very day dwelling on the
not pretend to concern itself with any lake of Rotorua, and never yet have the lips of their great ancestors or mythical of the offspring of Hine-Moa forgotten demigods, the date is not of much impeat tales of the great beauty of their re
portance. Two legends are devoted to nowned ancestress, Hine-Moa, and of bier
the subject of the first emigration of swimming over here ; and this, too, is the
the Maoris to New Zealand, called burden of a song still current."— pp. 242245
the emigration of Turi, the progenitor
of the Whanganui tribes; and the emiWho can read this simple tale with gration of Manaia, the progenitor of
the Ngati-awa tribes. Perhaps the In the more serious Sandwich Islands most remarkable circumstance in these such things may take deeper root; but stories is, the constant assertion that it is to the far sterner and more aththe emigrants arrived in New Zealand letic Maorie or New Zealander, nursed from the West, or that they always and strengthened in a somewhat ruder steered towards the rising sun. This climate, and with a larger and more appears simply impossible, as there is varied country, that we must look for no Polynesian people west of New our own more immediate counterpart Zealand, nor any land in that direction in the southern seas, The whole of nearer than Australia, the inhabitants this people is now, or shortly will be, of which are, in every respect, far Christian; and according as they be. inore inferior to the Maoris than the come of one faith, and of common opi. Maoris are to ourselves.
nions, and common education with It would indeed be difficult to say in ourselves, intermarriages will doubtwhat natural gifts, qualities, or capa- less take place - not, as of old, by cities, any race of people whatever New Zealand women being taken aş excel the Polynesians. Physically, concubines by the white men, but as they are as well formed and as gooid. wives of equal rank with themselves, looking as any people. In bodily and white women may then marry with strength and athletic exercises they are Maori gentlemen or chiefs. Some great adepts. Captain Cook found few generations will doubtless have to none of his crew able to compete in pass ere the old savagery and ferocity boxing with some of the Friendly pass altogether from the blood of the Islanders. Sandwich Islanders and mixed race; but it will very shortly New Zealanders are often the picked show itself in the form of indepenmen of English or American whalers. dence, enterprise, and energy; and we Singularly quick and intelligent, their may look forward to the Anglomental faculties rejoice in the acquisi. Maori as a people destined to play a tion of knowledge; while their moral distinguished part in the world's hisinstincts, though often perverted, are tory. Mr. Macaulay's New Zealander still truly human and correct at bot- will become a real personage, though tom, and are, above those of all other we do not know whether the historian men, easily trained and docile to in contemplated him as a descendant of struction. In this aguin they show one of the native race, or merely as their kindred to the Malays. Among one inhabiting their land, Let us no other nations do missionaries, whe- hope, however, that it will be long ther Bhoodist, Mahometan, or Chris- before he makes a pilgrimage to gaze tian, so easily make converts, and ac- upon the mere ruins of London, or to quire such an entire ascendancy, as find our own islands gone back to the among the Malays and the Polynesians. condition of a wilderness.
It is true that among the facile and Under whatever circumstances, we light-hearted Tahitians and other peo- believe Sir George Grey's book will be ples inhabiting gay tropical islands, a most valuable one to him, as valuable their natures are light, mobile, and im- as one would be to us written in choice pulsive. Deep and serious truths, ab- Latin by a contemporary of Livy or of stract contemplations, or severe stu- Tacitus, and containing a literal transdies are foreign to the natures of such lation of all the legends and stories of people, and must ever be confined to the Druids, all the songs and poems of the few of higher powers among them. the ancient Bards.
THE DRAMATIC WRITERS OF IRELAND.-80. VI.
RICHARD BRINSLEY SUERIDAX.
"If anything be overlooked, or not accurately inserted, let po one find fault, but take into consideration that this history is compiled from all quarters."-TRANSLATION FROM EVAGRIUS.
We arrive now at a great name in the zeal of a friend and fellow-coundramatic literature-RICHARD BRINS. tryman, to perpetuate the most agreeLEY SHERIDAN, son of Thomas Sheri. able features of the portrait be underdan, the celebrated manager and actor, took to draw. It is deeply to be and of Frances Chamberlaine, his wife, regretted that he has been less fortuboth commemorated in an earlier por- nate himself when he became, in his tion of the present series. This is the turn, the subject of a biography.* man of versatile and multiplied endow. Richard Brinsley Sheridan was born ments, eulogised by Thomas Moore, in Dublin (not at Quilca, as has been
sometimes supposed), in the year 1751. " The orator, dramatist, minstrel, who ran
In his family, natural talent and liteThrough each mode of the lyre, and was master of rary acquirements appear to have been all;"
hereditary. His father and his grandand whom Lord Byron bas placed even father were both eminent for their on a higher pinnacle, when he says- scholarship, and his mother distin“Whatever Sheridan has done, or guished herself as an authoress in more chosen to do, has been, par excellence, than one department. It was not, always the best of its kind. He has therefore, likely that his education written the best comedy, The School would be neglected. In his seventh for Scandal; the best opera, The year he was consigned, with his broDuenna ;-in my mind, far before that ther, to the instruction of a well-reSt. Giles's lampoon, The Beggar's spected pedagogue, Mr. Samuel Whyte Opera; the best farce, The Critic (it of Dublin, with the encouraging recomis only too good for an asterpiece); mendation from Mrs. Sheridan, that and the best address, “ The Monody they were the two dullest boys she had on Garrick;" and to crown all, deli. ever met with. vered the very best oration, the fa. When his parents removed to Engmous Begum speech, ever conceived land in 1762, he was sent to Harrow, or heard in this country.”
under Dr. Sumner, but he gained no The varied abilities, systematic pro- laurels in that renowned seminary, fusion, convivial intemperance, bril- which he left with the reputation of liant conversational wit, unrivalled being a sharp, froward, careless lad, eloquence, dazzling meridian, and most of a buoyant temperament, fond of melancholy decline, of this gifted, but light reading and poetry, but averse ill-regulated son of genius, have em- to sustained or studious application. ployed the pens of such a host of Yet he must have laid in, while there, writers, and bave formed the text of what Dr. Johnson would have called, so many printed discussions, that no- “ a bottom of learning," or he could velty in going over the same ground never, at eighteen, in conjunction with can scarcely be looked for. All the his schoolfellow, Halhed, have underleading incidents of the public and taken and completed a poetical transprivate life of this remarkable indi- lation of Aristænetus — an obscure vidual have been held up as a moral Greek author of disputed existence, lesson, commented on, and sermonised under whose name some epistles in until the topic is exhausted. Moore, prose have been preserved on subjects in his “ Lile of Sheridan,” as in the of love and gallantry, and which are case of Lord Byron, has laboured with more characterised by gross indelicacy
A good condensed life of Sheridan, compiled by G. G. S., is prefixed to an edition of his works published in Bohn's Standard Library, in 1848.
than by wit or graceful imagination. battle, or scuffle, in which the combaThe young translators softened these tants having closed and fallen together, passages; but there was an error in hugged and hacked away on the ground taste and judgment, as well as loss of with the fragments of their broken time in their selection, which few read blades, something after the practice of and nobody liked.
the Jesuit D'Aigrigny, and the MaSheridan lost his mother in 1766, réchal St. Simon, in « The Wandering before he quitted Harrow. Having Jew."* Wounds, slight, although they left that seat of learning, he entered were reported deadly, were given and himself of the Middle Temple, with a received on both sides, until the seview to the profession of the law, an conds, who had long looked on in pasintention which he speedily abandoned. sive silence, thought it necessary to inThemis was too dull for an enthusiastic terfere at last. The ex-parle statements votary of Apollo. In 1771 he went to of these encounters published respecreside in Bath, his father finding it tively by Sheridan, Matthews, and their convenient to fix the head-quarters of friends, are so totally at variance, that his family in that idle resort of fashion, it is not easy to extract the real truth valetudinarianism, profligacy, and self- from such conflicting evidence; but ishness, while he himself was fulfilling in both quarrels the principals seem to a round of professional engagements have gone to work more like red In. elsewhere. Here young Sheridan be- dians, determined to tomahawk and came acquainted with the beautiful scalp each other, than polished gentleand accomplished Miss Elizabeth Lin. men, moving in elegant society, fightley, daughter of the eldest Thomas ing according to rule, and in comLinley, a distinguished composer and pliance with the ordinances and prejumusician. The young lady, who sang dices of the day. at public concerts and oratorios, pos- When Sheridan ran away with Miss sessed vocal abilities of the bighest Linley be was twenty-two, and his order, and, as might be naturally ex- bride eighteen. He was without a pected, was followed by a legion of profession, or any certain income. admirers. She was a coquette too, The lady had a fortune of £3,000, and played them off with considerable paid to her by a Mr. Long, for a very skill, but sometimes with hazardous unprecedented reason - because she imprudence. Included in the list was had refused him ; but she was articled a Captain Matthews, an intimate friend to her father, who could claim her of the family, the possessor of a large services until she was twenty-one. Linfortune in Wales, but unfortunately a ley, finding the marriage irrevocable, married man. His principal employ- after an interview with Sheridan at ment in life was playing whist, on Lisle, assented to a marriage he was which he wrote a treatise, long consi- no longer able to prevent, and became dered the infallible guide. The close reconciled to the young couple, on the attentions of such a squire in ordinary understanding that his daughter should under such circumstances, could only fulfil her engagement to him, as in tend to injure Miss Linley's character, duty bound. This being settled, they and his free conversation gave colour returned to England, and lived for some to the most damaging reports. A mu- time in retirement at East Burnham. tual attachment of an ardent and ro- Sheridan had a great dislike to the mantic complexion sprang up between appearance of his wife in public, and Sheridan and the fair syren, which led resolved to withdraw her entirely from to an elopement to the continent, all professional avocations. By yieldwinding up with a secret marriage. ing to this point of delicacy he gave
Then followed two singularly savage up at least one thousand pounds per duels between the happy husband and annum, a sum she was sure to receive the disappointed Matthews. In the for several years, and which in all profirst, Sheridan was victorious, breaking bability would have continued to inhis adversary's sword, and compelling
Dr. Johnson, in conversation him to beg his life. The second ap- with Boswell, expressed his warm appears to have been a sort of drawn probation of this high spirit in a young
This scene seems to have furnished the idea of the close of the duel between Fabien dei Franchi and Château Renaud, in The Corsican Brothers.