Maori Philosophy.

Cromwell Argus, Volume III, Issue 139, 9 July 1872, Page 7

Maori Philosophy.

1 The following extract is from one o: a series of sketches supplied by a lady in Ran gitikeito the Australasian. Its beauty of style, apart from other merits, is sufficient recommendation Essenti y the Maori is a wanderer. Here for th:... summer season ; gone in the autumn ; th* in the fishing season ; gone again at the ‘ -~miera” time. Here today and gone to-n T household cares a ' lemtes , robed in his allimportant blank provided with his neverfailing pipe, he comes and goes, moving nortli and south as the fancy takes him. Household cares! Bah! he knows them not. No thought of the future creeps with its cautious doubts and chills into Maori land. “Trust no future however pleasant! Let the dead bury the dead. Such a sentiment as this breathes mutely from every hour in the Maori life. The present is all-sufficing. The present kiss pressed upon warm lips, the present caress tierce and passionate, the present hunger all prevailing, the present council of war all engrossing, the present “tangi” all abandoned to grief. To-morrow my mistress may leave me, and the kisses and the soft twine of her arms be mine no longer ; to-morrow I may be nu.re hungry than I am now, or not hungry at all ; to-morrow the fight may be over, and the tangi may be sung for me. Pardieu ! give unto to-morrow the things which may be to-morrow’s ; let us live today, and forget to-morrow. Such is the summing up of Maori philosophy ; simple and sweet. “Moko” kissed “Moringa” today, and to-morrow had gambled her away. “ Waimate” is far inland to-day, and to-mor-row Inms lulled to sleep by the moan of the sea. To-day the low flat is green and glaneing, and to-morrow the flood waves, surging and muddy, eddy over each path and nook. In the night comes the spirit of water, and to-day comes the flood. One day by the seaside are low thatched the canoes float in the bay, and the children paddle in the shallow rock-pools. A little curl of smoke shines dark in the afternoon sun, and a heap of white mussel-shells is left to bleach in the sun. A low chant sounds from the far i canoe ; a man lies stretched on the smooth sand asleep. To-morrow they are gone ; the night wind has levelled the hastily erected "’hare's ; the ashes of the fire are eddied over the sand.