[Read before the Auckland Institute, 14th November, 1886.]
It is with considerable diffidence I venture to bring the following results of an inquiry into the interesting subject of “The Whence of the Maori” before the Institute. In the first place, because several scientific men, far more capable of dealing with the question than I, have discussed it; and their researches have been embodied from time to time in the “Transactions” of the Institute: a fact that in itself endorses their value. In the second place, not being an expert in Maori lore, I shall doubtless merit, by my temerity, the critical displeasure of such authorities as Mr. Colenso, who, more than once, has shown in the pages of the “Transactions” some impatience at what he terms the “neverresting spirit of conjecture” in matters Maori. Yet, why this impatience? Why should conjecture rest? Conjecture, if it lead to nothing, cures itself. Conjecture is a symptom that the imagination is not stagnant; and the imagination, when scientifically controlled, is the great desideratum that has led to the most brilliant discoveries. It may be that the imagination of the specialist will be found just too much loaded with technicalities to render that kind of service on this question; though
equally valuable and not less necessary work will undoubtedly fall to his share in giving the public, or at least the student, the treasures of his knowledge in the shape of facts and criticism.
Mr. Turnbull Thomson's philological papers, read before some of the affiliated Societies of the Institute, on “The Whence of the Maori,” tracing their aboriginal home to Peninsular India, or “Bharata,” first drew my attention seriously to the subject, as I had some acquaintance, as a student, with the religious systems and mythologies of the Hindus: and my comparative study of Maori traditions with these has now led to a discovery of so many analogies and coincidences, that I have been impelled to bring the results of this inquiry before you—for discussion at least. Mr. Thomson's conclusions, as results of philological inquiry, are completely borne out by the supplementary evidence to be adduced from Maori tradition and mythology. My investigations, if correct, establish the following:—
That the Maoris, as a race, are of an An-Aryan, or Turanian origin: members of a family of people that once held possession of Peninsular India, or Bharata:
That with these is amalgamated an Aryan element, more immediately represented by their priests and chiefs:
That the cause that provoked their emigration was the overthrow, generally, of their race by the invading Aryans; large portions of the country having been absorbed among the territories of the superior race.
For information on the Maori part of the subject I am indebted to some of the papers of Mr. Colenso, and of others, published in the “Transactions;” but more particularly to a work, “Te Ika a Maui,” by the late Rev. Richard Taylor. I purpose, in this paper, to confine myself more immediately to the Turanian element of the question, leaving the Aryan element to be more fully dealt with on some future occasion.
The chiefs and priests, and perhaps some of the tribes who retain a more Caucasian cast of features, seem to have Aryan blood in their veins. The Aryans who broke into India called themselves Aryas. The chiefs and tohungas among the Maoris call themselves, as distinguished from the lower ranks, arikis—a name which is perhaps equivalent to “Children of the Aryas.” Both words mean “nobles” or “lords;” the derivation of the name, from a Sanskrit word that refers to the plough, I will notice in my next paper.
The following cosmological poem of the Maoris appears of an order far higher than might have been expected from a people of their position in the ethnological scale; it has all the
metaphysical ring of the Hindu mind. Mr. Taylor calls it “The Hymn of Creation,” and he says of it: “There is a degree of thought perceptible in it which marks a far more advanced state than their present.” This can be easily understood if the Hindu connection be proved:—
First Period—Epoch of Thought.“From the conception the increase,
From the increase the thought,
From the thought the remembrance,
From the remembrance the consciousness,
From the consciousness the desire.”
Second Period—That of Night.“The word became fruitful;
It dwelt with the feeble glimmering;
It brought forth night: * * *”
During these periods there was no light—“there were no eyes to the world.”
Third Period—That of Light.“From the nothing the begetting,
From the nothing the increase,
From the nothing the abundance,
The power of increasing,
The living breath;
It dwelt with the empty space, and produced the atmosphere which is above us,
The atmosphere which floats above the earth;
The great firmament above us, dwelt with the early dawn,
And the Moon sprang forth;
The atmosphere above us dwelt with the heat
And thence proceeded the Sun;
They were thrown up above, as the chief eyes of heaven:
Then the heavens became light,
The early dawn, the early day,
The mid-day. The blaze of the day from the sky.”
Fourth period, land was produced. Fifth period produced the gods. Sixth period, men were produced.
For comparison, I have selected a hymn from Max Müller's “Chips from a German Workshop” to go with it:—
Hindu Hymn.“Nor Aught nor Nought existed; yon bright sky
Was not, nor heaven's broad woof outstretched above.
What covered all? What sheltered? What concealed?
Was it the water's fathomless abyss?
There was not death—yet there was nought immortal;
There was no confine betwixt day and night;
The only One breathed breathless by itself,
Other than It there nothing since has been.
Darkness there was, and all at first was veiled
In gloom profound—an ocean without light—
The germ that still lay covered in the husk
Burst forth, One Nature, from the fervent heat,
Then first came love upon it, the new Spring
Of mind—yea, poets in their hearts discerned,
Pondering, this bond between created things
And uncreated. Comes this spark from earth
Piercing and all-pervading, or from heaven?
Then seeds were sown, and mighty powers arose—
Nature below, and power and will above—
Who knows the secret? Who proclaimed it here—
Whence, whence this manifold creation sprang?
The gods themselves came later into being—
Who knows from whence this great creation sprang?
He from whom all this great creation came,
Whether his will created or was mute,
The Most High Seer that is in highest heaven,
He knows it—or perchance even he knows not.”
The points of contact will become plain on a slight study; but not only is the matter generally of the subjects similar, but even the manner of the hymns has been retained, in some of hεmore ancient compositions of the Maoris. In some of these older poems a refrain is persisted in, which recalls forcibly the same feature in some Vedic hymns—something like the responses of a litany. Mr. Colenso gives us an invocation of Pani, which it will be well to compare with a hymn or so from the Veda, as translated by Max Müller. This invocation of Pani* was used at the planting of the kumara crop:—
“Oh, Pani! Oh! come hither now; welcome hither!
Fill up my basket, (with seed kumara roots) placed carefully in, one by one;
Pile up loosely my seed-basket to overflowing:
Give hither, and that abundantly!
Open and expanded awaiting (is) my seed basket;
Give hither, and that abundantly!
By the prepared little hillocks in the cultivation is my seed-basket placed;
Give hither, and that abundantly!
According to the spell of Space (is) my seed-basket awaiting;
Give hither, and that abundantly!
By the sides of the borders of the plots (in the) cultivation is my seed-basket placed;
Give hither, and that abundantly!
By (or according to) the proper form of power and influence (or potential power) is my seed-basket placed;
Give hither, and that abundantly!
The following extract (Rig Veda, x. 121) is from the translation by Max Müller:—
“1. In the beginning there arose the golden child—He was the one born Lord of all that is. He established the earth, and this sky.
Who is the God to whom we shall offer the sacrifice?
“2. He who gives life, He who gives strength: whose command all the bright gods revere; whose shadow is immortality, whose shadow is death:
Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?
[Footnote] *“Trans. N.Z. Inst.,” vol. xiv., p. 44.
“3. He who through His power is the one King of the breathing and awakening world; He who governs all, man and beast:
Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice?
“4. He whose greatness these snowy mountains, whose greatness the sea proclaims, with the distant river—He whose these regions are, as it were, His two arms:
Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ?”
I add a second specimen from the Rev. R. Taylor's work, “Te Ika a Maui,”—“The Spell of Tawaki, on his ascending to Heaven”:—
“Ascend, Tawaki, to the first heaven:
Let the fair sky consent!
Ascend, Tawaki, to the second heaven:
Let the fair sky consent!
Ascend, Tawaki, to the third heaven:
Let the fair sky consent!
Ascend, Tawaki, to the fourth heaven:
Let the fair sky consent!
* * * *
Ascend, Tawaki, to the tenth heaven:
Let the fair sky consent!
Cling, cling, like the lizard, to the ceiling;
Stick, stick close to the side of heaven.”
As I have duplicated the quotation from the Maori, I will balance it by a second from the “Chips.”—“Hymn to Varuna” (Rig Veda, vii., 89):—
“1. Let me not yet, O Varuna, enter into the house of clay:
Have mercy, Almighty, have mercy!
“2. If I go along trembling, like a cloud driven by the wind:
Have mercy, Almighty, have mercy!
“3. Through want of strength, thou strong and bright God, have I done wrong:
Have mercy, Almighty, have mercy!
“4. Thirst came upon the worshipper, though he stood in the midst of the waters:
Have mercy, Almighty, have mercy!
“5. Whenever we men, O! Varuna, commit an offence before the heavenly host, whenever we break the law through thoughtlessness:
Punish us not, O! God, for that offence,.
These analogies, taken with the fact that the Maoris have preserved the very names the Hindus gave such hymns and invocations—viz., gathas, and mantras: gatha, a song, becoming waiata in Maori; and mantra, a spell, becoming maatara, seem to me to point to more than a mere coincidence.
I now come to the more direct evidence. Mr. Turnbull Thomson, in his paper on “Barat, or Barata Fossil Words,”* says:—
“Barat is the Malay traditional and poetical name for Hindustan, and to this day they speak of the angin Barat—that is, the
[Footnote] * “Trans. N.Z. Inst.,” vol. xi., p. 157
westerly, or wind of Barat—as they do of the angin Jawa, that is, the southerly, or wind of Java. Barata, or Bharata, is the ancient term for their country by the natives of Hindustan. In the language of Madagascar, allowing for phonology, precisely the same word is used for the north—viz., avaratra, whose winds wafted commerce from the parent country—viz., South India.” Mr. Thomson had already shown that from Barata there must have been an eastern migration to the Malay Peninsula, and a western one to Madagascar. Mr. Colenso, in his notes to a paper read by him before the Hawke's Bay Institute on “A Charm or Invocation used at the Planting of the Kumara Roots,” (quoted above) comments thus on the following couplet from his translation:—
“And it was divulged abroad by thee
At Wairoti (and) at Wairota.”
He says: “Wairoti and Wairota are the names of two places out of New Zealand (real or mythical) not unfrequently referred to, in this way, in their old poetry and myths, and often in conjunction with Hawaiki.” Now I cannot doubt that, allowing for phonology, Wairota is equivalent to Barata; whilst Wairoti is probably Wairota-iti, or “Little Wairota:” the new land (that proved only a halting-place) named after the old home. The fact of the names being found in what Mr. Colenso has pronounced one of the most ancient of Maori poems, “The Invocation of Pani,” which we have seen in structure resembles some of the Vedic hymns; and the names being connected with Hawaiki, their more immediate though still ancient island home, all strengthen the inference that Wairota is identical with Barata.
That this tradition of Barata is not confined to New Zealand is evidenced in the following extract from a review in the “New Zealand Magazine,” on Dr. F. Müller's work on the Malay race (from the ethnological and linguistic parts of the “Voyage of the Novara”):—
“We believe that in the Samoa and Tonga Islands we have to seek for the original seat of the Polynesians…. The native tradition, however, leads us still farther back. Similarly, as in the eastern insular groups, the name Savaiki describes a land which may be considered as the Eden of the Polynesians, which it surrounds with the poetry of careless childhood. Tradition in Samoa and Tonga preserves the memory of a large island, which is placed in the west, and is regarded as the abode of the departed, and as the point of departure of mankind. The name of this island in Samoan is Pulotu, or Purotu; in Tongan, Bulotu. It is most probable that in this expression the name of the Island of Buro is to be recognised.” It is added, in a note: “The tu in Pulotu is probably
connected with the word tabu (as Tonga-tabu=sacred Tonga), and the expression means nothing more than sacred Buro.”
Now, I think the inference is plain, from the light that the Maori version throws on the Samoan and Tongan tradition, that Wairota or Purotu refers to the original home of the race, that is Barata; while Wairoti, or Little Barata, refers to the Island of Buro, the new home named after the old. The explanation by the reviewer, of the terminal syllable tu, as a contraction or detrital fragment of tapu, is ingenious, but hardly convincing; as it is neither backed by analogy, nor is any reason given why Samoans or Tongans should make tapu into tu; nor is it shown that they do so: the instance of Tongatabu is rather fatal to the view. Moreover, the Maori tradition removes Purotu a stage farther than the Island of Buro; which, according to Maori view, ought to be Puroti, and not Purotu; so then the tapu connection vanishes, for it can hardly be contended that the terminal ti is a contraction of tapu, unless indeed it can be shown that tapu is sometimes tapi.
We then see the evidence points to Havaiki or Savaiki, that is Samoa; Wairoti, the Island of Buro, that is Little Barata; and Wairota or Purotu, that is Barata, as the three former homes of the Maori.
All doubt that the view taken here is the correct one will be set at rest by the following quotation from Mr. Taylor's work*:—
“At Parapara, a small village on the road from Kaitaia to Doubtless Bay, there resided (1840) an intelligent old chief named Hahakai, a tohunga deeply versed in the traditions of the country…. He repeated a list of twenty-six generations from their first coming to this island. The old priest in his first half-dozen names,” says Mr. Taylor, “seems to have gotten among the gods.” These first names are: Tiki, Maui, Po, Maui, Atua, Maea. The last is a Hindu goddess, Maya (or illusion), the physical universe (a mother-goddess). “He stated that their ancestors originally came from three islands, Hawaiki, Matatera, and Wairota; all which lay to the East.”
I think Mr. Taylor has made some slips here. The old priest must have said “all which lay to the West.” This is to be seen by taking them in order: Hawaiki is the land from which they came more immediately to New Zealand. To the West of Hawaiki must have lain their more ancient home, for it is called Mata-tera. This is only an erroneous form of the words Matete-ra, the dying (or dying place) of the Sun, that is the West; and would answer to Wairoti, or Little Wairota, or the Island of Buro. Then Wairota would represent the land still farther west from which they set out, that is Peninsular India, or
[Footnote] * “Te Ika a Maui,” p. 193.
Bharata, which would doubtless be considered an island by its inhabitants. Its northern boundary being the Vindhya Mountains, they might suppose what lay beyond it was probably the sea, just as the sea bounded their country on its other sides. This old tohunga described the men in the neighbourhood riding on beasts, and having axes with holes in them, through which the handles were thrust, etc.
But it is from Maori mythology that the strongest evidence is to be obtained: for, not only are the names of the most ancient Turanian gods of India retained, and this in but partial disguise, but the old Phallo-pantheistic faith, that preceded both Buddhism and Brahmanism in India, is also enmeshed with their cosmological and other legends. I shall deal with the latter feature first.
In India the Deity was symbolised, even in the earliest days, as a serpent. The snake formed one of the most important figures of Phallo-pantheism—the first philosophical faith of India; since either as a perpendicular, or ringed, it so facilely expressed the male and female principles in Nature; these being also expressed by other figures, suggestive of a like meaning. The snake, the truncated tree, or monolith, alluded to the generative faculty evidenced in Nature, through the instrumentality of the generative organs. Separate from his intention to create, the Deity was conceived as bi-sexed, or hermaphrodite; but in periods of creative or recreative energy, the phallic snake was represented as putting its tail into its mouth, thus picturing the lingham and yoni, (the phallos and umbelichos of the Greek pantheists), the instruments of generation: that is to say, there arose a sexual differentiation in Nature. The Hindus thus looked upon the vital phenomena in creation as a begetting, even from its divine origination. As may be imagined, so sensuous a symbolism could not fail (being but understood in its exoteric bearing by the people at large), to lead to licentiousness; but, in its esoteric and philosophic bearing, this view simply symbolised the marriage of all natural things; a state that Manichæism alone has ever reprobated: Since—
“Nothing in this world is single;
All things, by a law divine, in each other's being mingle.”
Whenever, then, we find traces of this ancient snake and tree-worship, we may be certain the old Hindu philosophy underlies it, whether in Britain, or Central America even.
Now, that there should be no direct reference to the serpent portion of the cult among the Maoris is easily accounted for, as there were no snakes in New Zealand to help to keep up the recollection of the old symbol. Yet, if the antiquity of the rock-paintings found in the South Island be established, the serpent is certainly figured there, in a rude way, among other
exotic representations; and perhaps, after all, Mr. McKenzie Cameron's conjecture, that the Nga Puhi tribes of New Zealand represent the Naga Puhi, or Snake Tribe (or, I should suggest, the snake-worshipping tribes), of India, may be true. The objection raised by Mr. Stack, (and probably Maori scholars will all think with him), that the Maori etymology, and, moreover, the fact that in Maori the adjective or qualifying term never precedes the substantive, both forbid the possibility of such a construction; yet it may be possible that the Nga, or Ngati, which enters into combination with almost every tribal name in New Zealand, represents a titular particle of unknown etymology—a patronymic, perhaps, rather than the plural definite article, in such cases; but, of course, this is a point for linguists to settle. I simply hazard the suggestion, without any knowledge on this head, and I cannot pretend to anything of the kind. I will add, however, that in Mr. Taylor's book (chapter v.) a number of “‘reptile gods’ are mentioned as ranged under Maru.” From their names, I should judge them to be Turanian deities connected with snake-worship; but of this, more anon. There is just one other passage which seems to bear on the snake connection: it is in the cosmogonic hymn already quoted. Mr. Taylor says “in the sixth period, after the creation of the gods in the previous period, the earliest men were formed. That these were of reptilian character seems to be implied in the following descriptive names:—Ngae, Ngaenui, Ngaeroa, Ngaepea, Ngaetuturi, Ngaepepeke.
Supposing Ngae to represent the Hindu Naga, “the snake,” these names become: Snake, Big Snake, Long Snake, Snake like, the Couching (recumbent, or bent) Snake, the Leaping (or erect) Snake. Ngae is one of the names of Kae, in the legend of Tinirau and his whale; and I am satisfied that in his case the significance of the name connects him with the Turanian Snake Tribe, or snake-worshippers. I think on the whole, the evidence, from other legends as well, strengthens the inference that the Naga worship was not unknown to the ancient New Zealanders. The Ngaenui, etc., etc., either describe the phallic-snake, or, if descriptive of a tribe of men, its worshippers. It will be seen later on that the same adjectives, tuturi, pepeke, are applied to another form of the phallic symbol.
The Naga, or phallic-snake, worshipped by the early Turanians in India as a symbol of the Deity, must not be confounded with the cloud-serpent of the Aryan solar mythology, the emblem of darkness—and so evil, and death. The phallic-snake represented the good principle of light, and life, and healing: it was the brazen serpent of Moses; the “agatho daimon” (AγαθΌδαίμων) of the Greeks; the Kneph, or Knuphis, of the Egyptians; and, as I have shown elsewhere, the object of the adoration of the Nephelim of Genesis, a word translated “giants” in
the Authorised Version, but untranslated in the Revised Old Testament. In the forms Naga, Ngae, Kneph, and Nephelim, I believe we have similarly-originated words, alluding to the phallic-snake of the Phallo-pantheistic faith of the people of Turanian India, or Bharata, the Wairota of Maori tradition.
But if the Naga evidence be deemed rather circumstantial than direct, not the slightest doubt can attach to the evidence for the other symbol of the Phallic cult of India—viz., the truncated tree, monolith, or obelisk.
Mr. Taylor says there were two grand orders of gods: the first and most famous were the gods of the night, as night preceded the light, and then followed the gods of the light. Of these the chiefs were Hine-nui-te-po, (“great mother night,”) the grand-parent of the rest. Of the latter, Rangi and Papa (or (Heaven and Earth), were the parents. This conception of heaven and earth being the parents of life belongs both to Aryan and Turanian systems in India. In fact, it simply personifies the union of spirit and matter—the representatives of the male and female principles, the parent snakes from which springs the germ. The Greeks also married Auranos to Gaia in the same way. Mr. Arthur Lillie, in his work on “Buddha and Buddhism,” quotes from the Veda the following passages:—
“May the soft wind waft us a pleasant healing;
May mother Earth and father Heaven convey it to us. * *
We invoke the lord of living beings!”
And adds, “This lord of living beings is the sun;” or, as he in other places of his book terms him, “the solar god-man, the Divine germ, or anthropomorphic Deity, the logos, or demiurge.” The Maoris represented him in the person of Tiki, a name perhaps contracted from potiki = a child. But, to return to the quotations from Mr. Taylor: “The sky with its solid pavement lying upon the earth rendered it fruitless; a few insignificant plants, shrubs, and creeping plants only had room to grow on its surface.” (I would suggest, in parenthesis, that these plants were probably looked on as either hermaphrodite or sexless.) “The offspring of Rangi and Papa were: first the kumara, next the fern-root.” (I shall show later that the kumara and fern-root represent the phallic emblems in the vegetable economy of Nature.) “The first living being produced was Tane, from whom proceeded trees and birds.” What he was they do not seem clearly to know: a god, a man, or a tree. He is also called Tane Mahuta. Mr. Taylor gives a full account of the separation of the heaven from the earth, and its propping by Tane, too lengthy for quotation in full. I select the following passages, however:—
“Alas for Rangi! Alas for Papa! Alas for the power of Tane Mahuta! For him was reserved the propping up. Down went his head below; up went his heels above. Up entirely
went Rangi; down entirely went Papa…. Tane Mahuta is represented as a tree with its head downward and roots upward, and thus trees were supposed formerly to grow…. Tane had six names, each being emblematical of his power:—
“Tane Tuturi=Tane the bending. [If my theory is correct, it would mean recumbent or bent.]
Tane Pepeke=Tane the bowing.
Tane Uetika=Tane straight as a tree.
Tane Ueka=Tane strong as a tree.
Tane-te-Waiora=Tane the person who opened the fountain of living water.
Tane-nui-a-Rangi=The great Tane of heaven.”
In addition to these he is called Tane Mahuta. The last great work which is attributed to him is the opening of the fountain of living water to perpetuate the existence of the sun and moon. The latter, when it wanes, is thought to go to it, and bathing therein to receive a renewed existence. Hence the saying: “Man dies and is no more seen; but the moon dies, and plunging into the living water, springs forth again into life.” Mr. Taylor adds in a note: “The same tradition of the heaven being joined to the earth is found in Tahiti, and that they were only separated by the teva (Draconitum polyphyllum, an insignificant plant), till their god Ruu (the Maori Ru) lifted it up—Na Ruu-i-to-te-rai = Ru did elevate (or raise) the heavens.”
Now, we must put aside the exoteric features; they are mere adjuncts to disguise the true significance: such as the Maori belief that Tane really lifted the heavens from off the earth, or that he was the father of trees and birds; these are mere exoteric features that make the legend. The esoteric features disclosed by a comparative study of the fossil names embedded with Indian mythology, point to an elaborate philosophy as underlying the story. Tane means the male, in Maori, and here stands for the distinguishing organ of the sex, or the phallos, (and thus the truncated tree, ashera, or monolith, as expressed in symbol), that makes generation and regeneration possible, by its! fecundation of the fountains of being or life. The attributive terms, tuturi, pepeke, etc., applied to Tane, form, really, an extremely sensuous but realistic picture of the different functional states of the phallos.
I need hardly urge that this naked exposition of a certain phase in the anatomy of the human mind is not advanced in any spirit of irreverence or wantonness. But, in order to arrive at truth, and to form a correct estimate of the different progressive stages in the physiology of belief, philosophy cannot afford to hesitate, or look coy, in its examina-
tion, however shocking to ordinary view the subject be. That the generative organs should ever have been deemed objects worthy of adoration, and symbols of Deity, seems so marvellous a thing to Europeans that a study of the peculiar phase of mind which led to such a cult has always been approached with a prejudice that has, in very many cases, amounted to a loathing. While, on the one hand, the matter has been viewed as a symptom of the terrible depravity and degeneracy of the originally pure human mind; on the other hand, by others, it has been viewed as marking an infant and sensuous stage of human speech, and human thought. That there is anything occult or esoteric underlying such beliefs as tree-propped heavens, or creation of life on the falling of stones that turn into men, or of serpents talking to women, and suggesting the tasting of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, seems completely ignored. That there may have been a stage in the development of the human intellect when people viewed their surroundings as endued with a life and intelligence similar somewhat to their own, may be true, or may not be true; but certainly this explanation is not true, as applied to the tales that have had their origin among the philosophical Hindus, as most of the tales of the East have had. There is nothing infantile about the story of Tane Mahuta, of the Hindu-taught Maori; in the story of Deucalion raising up men by casting stones behind him, of the Hindu-taught Greek; (for the name of the Phænician Cadmus, and the Cretan Minos, prove their teachers to have been Hindus; Cadmus is one of the Gautamas of India, and Minos is a Manu). Nor is there anything infantile, or even mythical, in the story in Genesis of the temptation and the fall of Adam (whose name is also, as I have proved elsewhere, only a mutilated form of the Benne Guadam, or Benne Kedem, or sons of the East, who migrated from India to Western Asia).
In the first case, as has been shown, it is the Phallic tree, or prop; in the second it is still the phallos, or meteoric stone, in a figure, by its fall impregnating the womb of earth; symbolising the union of spirit and matter. In the third case, we have a concentrated and exoteric account of the Phallopantheistic philosophy, viewed from a Buddhistic standpoint, wherein birth into a material existence, (or “falling into generation,” as it was termed), is viewed as a calamity, hence a fall. The occult symbols of the first philosophical faith of India are employed in the story—viz., the Phallic-serpent, and the Phallic tree of knowledge of good and evil—the truncated tree, or phallos. The Hebrew philosophy very justly starts with this damnatory view of human life that was promulgated in the early philosophies of India: and proceeds to show what more hopeful views were engrafted on the tree of knowledge and
mortality, so as to render it eventually a tree of life and immortality; this being rendered possible by the incarnation of Deity, from time to time, to impart those spiritual lessons that serve to develope man's soul, so as to in time wean it from its material clog or body, and invest it in its spiritual body, or garment of light, which alone can inhabit eternity. All religious teachers of note, such as Adam, Enoch, Noah, and Moses, were deemed to have been partial incarnations of the Divine Spirit, having partaken in no small measure, though not perfectly, of the Divine nature. Thus Adam is, by Matthew the Evangelist, called “the Son of God.” Adam was the first of the Gautamas, the first spiritual father of mankind—not-the first physical—and published the gospel of condemnation, or Proto-Buddhism, in the land of Nod, or India, that Phallo-pantheistic creed that Sakhya Muni, at a much later period, elaborated and reformed. All Eastern writings are more or less of this esoteric nature. Josephus says as much. “Moses,” he says, “wrote some things in a decent allegory.” The very directness in the sensuous bearing of the Maori story, proves that the true exposition is to be found by treating it esoterically. That it is impossible to be mistaken in the exposition here advanced, a short study of the fossil names in the tradition will render evident.
Siva, the great Hindu god of Turanian type, is the deity whose peculiar functions are those of generation and regeneration. He is also called Rudra. It will readily be seen that this name of his is the original of the Maori Ru, and the Tahitian Ruu. In his generative faculty, he is represented under the symbol of the lingham, or phallos; he is then named Maha-deo, or Mahadeva, equivalent to “Magnus-deus:” we have the one form preserved in the Mahuta of the Maori story, and the latter part of the second form—viz., deva, in the teva of the Tahitians. The Greeks called the phallic-tower of the Phænicians mudros; and the Celts of Ireland, who were doubtless connected with Phænician colonists, called their round towers mudhr.* It seems to me impossible to resist such evidence as this, which tallies in every feature, the Maori with its original Hindu. I would repeat that from the fact that such words as tuturi and pepeke are applied to Tane, one form of Phallic symbolism, as also to Ngae, (the hypothetical snake symbol), the inference is strengthened that this phallic view of Ngae is probably correct, and Tane Tuturi = Ngae Tuturi, and Tane Pepeke = Ngae Pepeke; that is, they represent two forms of the same symbol of “tree and serpent-worship.” It has been suggested to me that the Maori word ngarara, which the Natives apply to any reptilian or worm-like creature, may have been similarly understood,
[Footnote] * See Jennings’ “Rosicrucians.”
originally, as applicable to animals that recalled the Naga of India.*
I come now to a group of unmistakably Turanian and Hindu deities; but, before I mention them, or their originals, certain points of complication in both the Maori and Hindu traditions must be explained.
There has been some misplacement of sex in the Maori story, arising probably from the somewhat undefined nature as to sex of the Hindu deities. The female deities are really conceived as rather the energies of their consorts, (the vacti, as it was called, of the male deities), than as having any individuality of their own.
Then, again, there has been a misplacement among the characters themselves; but in this the Maori story seems studiously to have been modelled on the Hindu that preceded it, which in the shape that it has reached us has been considerably modified. The time when the later Hindu accounts were framed was evidently a period of transition. The contests of Aryans and Turanians had resulted in the subjugation of the inferior race. In the interests of peace and conciliation it became the policy of the Aryan priesthood to try and smooth away religious differences as far as possible, by remodelling the Turanian deities somewhat, so as the more easily to adapt them to a companionship with Aryan deities in the Hindu pantheon. Accordingly, Rudra, the Phallic deity, was identified with Siva, the third member of the Brahminic Trinity: his consort Durga, or Kali, also called Uma, took the place of Aditi (space), or Dewaki, the original or celestial mother goddess, Uma being the terrestrial mother-goddess, that is, mother earth: and Krishna, the solar god-man or offspring, was identified with Vishnu, the second member of the Aryan Trinity, as one of his incarnations. The original mythology was distorted to suit an Aryan order of things. Rudra, Uma or Kali, with Krishna, really represent the original Turanian Trinity (personifying, as they do, the male and female principles, with their offspring), of the old Phallopantheistic faith.
That Kali and Krishna are Turanian deities, is plain by the signification of their names, both names meaning “black.” “Whenever there is a relaxation of duty, O son of Bharata,” says Krishna, in the Bhagavat Gitâ, “I then reproduce myself, for the protection of the good and the destruction of the evil.” The state of anarchy that accompanied the Aryan invasions might well provoke such an incarnation; and Hindu ingenuity has been taxed to the extreme, to invent several intricate distortions and substitutions, to prove that Krishna,
[Footnote] * Ngarara may, however, Nga = the, and rara = ribs; as applied to animals who appear to progress by means of, or on, their ribs, in which case, of course, Nga is the plural form of the definite article.
though a dusky deity, is yet of an Aryan connection. He is no longer a son of Kali, the terrestrial mother goddess of Turanian connection, but he is born of Dewaki, earlier known as Aditi (space), the celestial mother goddess of the Aryans; and hence he figures as an Aryan god with a dusky face but Aryan sympathies; an incarnation, with his white twin brother Balarama, of a black and a white hair from the head of Vishnu. Kali or Uma plays her part, but in quite a modified and subordinate character, becoming incarnate at the same time with Krishna in order to be substituted for him, and so suffer a temporal death in his stead, at the hands of the reigning king, his grandfather, who dreaded his advent: being dashed to death in mistake for the infant Krishna, she regained her position as a deity. This substitution of Kali for Krishna shows the close relation that originally existed between her and Krishna; for, being in the original cult mother and son, this very intimate relation had not altogether to be ignored, and was compassed in this roundabout way.
But not only is the descent of Krishna thus distorted: his future career is modified in the same interest. He is, as already said, Aryan in sympathy, and is represented fighting on the side of the Pandavas, or white race, as against the Pandavas, or black race, in the poem of the Mahabarat, an epic commemorating the struggle of two rival families of the great house of Bharat (that, is really, of Aryans and Turanians) for the possession of Peninsular India, or the land of Bharat.
This group of Turanian gods find their counterparts in Maori mythology, with some modifications as indicated. Kali, or Uma, appears as Hema, or Houmea; Krishna as Karihi; and Dewaki, the mother of Krishna, is transformed to Tawaki, a son of Hema (corresponding to Uma, or Kali). According to one story of Hema, or Houmea, her husband's name is Uta, which seems a contraction of Mahuta, a phallic name, as I have shown, and equivalent to the Hindu Maha-deo, a name of Siva, or Rudra, the husband of Uma, or Kali. Now, these fossil-names occurring in the same Maori story, or groups of stories, the persons they represent being all of one family, and answering to a like series of related names of the Turanian deities of India, all point to India as the source whence they were derived. The bearings of the legends, or the stories related of these heroes and heroines, are completely to. be interpreted by the stories related of their Hindu counterparts. The attributes of Hema, or Houmea, are those of Uma, or Kali: Hema, like Uma in some legends, has personal beauty; in others she is a glutton and thief: just as Uma, being the goddess of death and the grave, is propitiated with bloody rites, and is pictured as bloodthirsty in the extreme; for, being “mother earth,” she is at once the womb that bears and the grave that again consumes the fruit of the
womb; and she is, moreover, the patron-goddess of gambling, and of the murdering robber, the Thug. Kali, in her more beautiful bearing, represents Aphrodite, or Nature in its poetic garb. Tawaki is the Aryanised Krishna; his story is that of Krishna: be is the loved of women, and dies the death of the solar godman on the confines of the West, slain at the hands of the powers of darkness, the children of the cloud-serpent of Aryan myth. After a time of sleep, he rises to a new life and immortality, and ascends to heaven, pouring down vengeance on the powers that had formerly injured him.
The prejudice that had impelled the Hindu Aryas to remodel the story of Krishna to favour Aryan proclivities, and to make Krishna (really the offspring of the Turanian Kali) a son of the Aryan goddess Dewaki, seems to have wrought still more powerfully with the Maori arikis, for they belittle Krishna entirely, and transfer his exploits to an unmistakably Aryan hero, with a name modelled on that of the Aryan Dewaki—viz., Tawaki, who opens the way to heaven, whereas Krishna (that is, Karihi of the Maori), not only fails to gain apotheosis, but is condemned to condign punishment for his envy of Tawaki. These deductions will be fully borne out by the following extracts from Mr. Taylor's work; the whole account is too lengthy:—
“Originally men were not aware that Tawaki was a god, until one day he ascended a lofty hill, and some one who was cutting brushwood saw him throw aside his vile garments and clothe himself with the lightning. They then knew he was a god. When Waitiri, or Watitiri, (his grandmother), descended from heaven, the fame of Kaitangata and his bravery reached her. She slew her favourite slave Anonokia, and took out his lungs as an offering for Kaitangata, which, when she came, she presented to him. Kaitangata feared her…. They became man and wife; their firstborn was Punga, afterwards Karihi; and the youngest Hema. Their children were not particularly clean. Kaitangata turned up his nose and said, ‘Hu! the filthy children!’ Waitiri was offended…. Afterwards she returned to heaven; her parting words were: ‘When Punga has children, do not let them follow me.’ She called to Karihi, ‘When you have grown up, do not suffer your children to go and seek me. When my Waka Makanga (my shame) has a child, he may come to me.’ … When Kaitangata returned from the sea, he asked his children, ‘Where is your mother?’ They said, ‘She has gone to heaven, to her dwelling-place.’ Kaitangata inquired, ‘What did she say to you?’ ‘She said that Punga, the anchor of your canoe, was to be my name; that for this here (pointing to his brother) the name was to be Karihi, the sinker of your net; that for our sister, the Waka Makanga (“the shame”) of our mother, for your turning up your nose at our filth,’ They went and showed the paepae to their father.
(The paepae is the jetty or board from which she ascended.) The offspring of Punga and Karihi were the lizard-shark and dog-fish. The child of Hema was Tawaki. The elder brethren took Muri-waka-roto and Kohuhango as their wives. These women were not satisfied with their husbands; they preferred Tawaki. The elder relatives hated him. They said, ‘Let us go to Wai-ranga-tuhi,’ where he had gone to wash. Tawaki prayed—
“Let the morning spring forth; give me my comb, my beautiful comb,
That I may arise and go to the water of Rangatuhi, Rangatuhi.”
“They found their brother there and slew him; after he was dead they returned home. Muri-waka-roto demanded, ‘Where is your younger brother?’ Mango (the shark) said, ‘At the water, combing his hair.’ She waited a long time and then went and called Tawaki—e—. The pukeko (a bird) answered ‘ke.’ She went again and called to Tawaki. The moho (another bird) answered ‘hu.’ She returned home and said, ‘You have killed your brother.’ They confessed they had done so. They inquired if he did not answer her call; she replied the pukeko and the moho were the only things that heard her. ‘No, Tawaki is gone to karakia, and to mix his blood with water-blood, with star-blood, with the blood of what? With the blood of the moon, with the blood of the sun, and the blood of Rangi-Mahuki (fair-sky): this is the flowing of Tawaki's blood, truly the causing his blood to grow that he might be restored to life.’ (The union of these kinds of blood formed life, and thus resuscitated Tawaki.) Tawaki is alive again. He slept soundly on the sea-shore after his resurrection from below, from the Reinga, he sleeps soundly by the sea-side; a great wave appeared, rolling in from afar; that wave came to kill Tawaki, but his ancestor., the kaiaia (the sparrow-hawk) appeared, and cried ‘ke-ke-ke-ke.’ Tawaki arose; he started up from his sleep, he seized a stick, (and casting it), defied the wave; it glanced on one side of the billow which was drifting towards him from afar. Enough! Tawhaki left the shore and went inland. His uncle, Karihi, overtook him; they wept together.
“Afterwards they arrived at the outside (or verge) of heaven, and at the fence which divided it from the earth.” Then follows Karihi's attempt, and Tawaki's successful feat, of climbing up into heaven. Tawaki's inimical spell sent Karihi sliding to earth again; whilst the spell on his own account [quoted in the first part of this paper] took him fairly to heaven.” Mr. Taylor adds, in a note: “It is said Tawaki ascended to heaven by a spider's thread.” “Tawaki succeeded, he reached the sky; he cut off the road by which he ascended. His uncle called to him to turn back, and help him to get up. But he answered from above, ‘No! you all aided in my murder.’ Tawaki then visited his grandmother, and restored by his spells her eyesight. Then
Tawaki went and saw the toka tamiware which stood there. He asked the old woman, ‘What is this?’ Waitiri replied, ‘Do not touch them with your hands; they are your ancestors.’ Then Tawaki stumbled against it; the stone fell down by the sea. Tawaki went crying, ‘You also shall cry, who slew me.’ From that stone that fell commenced the revenge which Tawaki took against his brethren. He drove the shark and the dog-fish from the land, and compelled them henceforth to live in the sea.”
From her name, Tawaki's grandmother Waitiri, or Whatitiri, which means “the thunder,” is probably to be connected with the cloud; and so is probably to be regarded as of the black, or Turanian order; Kaitangata and Anonokia are probably to be classed with the Aryan order, for reasons I hope to fully set forth in a paper on the Aryan element in Maori legend. This is why, probably, Kaitangata treats his dusky children with indignity: “Hu! the filthy children!” In the Maori story, a new name is introduced, Punga. It will be remembered that, in the Hindu version, Krishna has a twin-brother, his white counterpart. In the Maori story, Punga seems a counterpart of Karihi. I am inclined to think that Mr. Taylor has made some mistake in his explanation of the name Punga. Punga, in the north, is an eel-pot, and Karihi would be its sinker; and they are thus, as it were, really one. The exoteric rendering given would then be, “You, Punga, are your father's ‘eel-pot,’ and you, Karihi; you are its ‘sinker;’ and your sister, Whakama-Ranga, is ‘my shame.”’ I cannot help thinking we have here an exoteric allusion to the phallic idea, worked in with the legend. The eel, (which I have reason to believe took the place of the phallic serpent in Maori mythology, as I hope to prove in my next paper), the pot, and its sinkers, would represent the penis, scrotum, and testes of the phallic male emblem; while the female emblem would be represented by Whakama-Ranga, in covert reference to the significance of Uma, the original of Hema, which, I believe, is etymologically connected with the Sanskrit vambha, meaning the womb. I have to hazard this last statement, as I have no means at present of verifying it: I have had to trust to memory in this matter, and may be I am not quite correct in this derivation; but my impression is that it is correct. Thus, we find, not only the names of the Turanian deities preserved, but the principal features of the Phallic faith enmeshed cleverly with the regular lines of the story.
That Punga and Karihi are said to beget lizards, and sharks, and dog-fish, rather confirms the view of their Turanian and reptilian nature (or, rather, the reptilian characteristics of the cult in which they figured). And that they are roughly dealt with at the hands of the arikis, or Aryo-Maori priests, is as might have been expected; for by this time the malific idea of
the Aryan cloud-serpent, or dragon, had been engrafted on that of the Phallic life-serpent, thus obscuring its true significance: hence, Tawaki, who had been recognized as a god from his girding himself with the lightning, is represented as carrying on a vengeful war against these dark, cloudy, or watery powers who had once overcome him, and hurling the “toka tamiware,” (his ancestors, as his grandmother, Whatitiri, the thunder, had termed it), which probably meant a thunderbolt, against them, and forcing them from the original serpentine life on land to the dragon-like life in the sea.
I now come to Tiki and Pani. Tiki is, according to the northern Maoris, the husband of Pani. Huruki is also said to be her husband; but this name, may be more fully Huruki, alluding to the top-knot, which, as Mr. Taylor tells us, adorned a chiefs head, and was called “he tiki;” and therefore Huruki and Tiki may be the same being. Mr. Colenso also gives the name Maui-whare-kino,* as that of her husband; and adds, “this is not the hero who bound the sun and moon.” Yet, from the name, he evidently belongs to the class of solar gods, and this seems to be the case with Tiki, (as will be shown presently), so probably they are one. “Of Tiki,” Mr. Taylor says, “little is preserved: his great work was that of making man, which he is said to have done after his own image. One account states that he took red clay and kneaded it with his own blood, and so formed the eyes and limbs, and then gave the image breath. Another, that man was formed of clay, and the red-ochreous water of swamps; and that Tiki bestowed both his own form and name upon him, calling him Tiki-ahua, or Tiki's likeness. The most prized ornament is an uncouth image of man, formed of green-stone, and worn round the neck as an “Heitiki” image, or remembrance of Tiki. The new-born infant is called ‘he potiki,’ or a gift of Tiki from the Po or Hades; and he adds in a note, ‘The word Tiki, in Nukuhiva, or Tii, in Hawaiian, means an image, according to Rev. Mr. Buddle.”’
From this it is plain that Tiki answers to what Mr. Lillie (as already quoted) terms “the solar god-man, or anthropomorphic Deity, answering to the Logos, or Demiurge, of the Platonists and Gnostics, forming one of several series of Phallo-pantheistic triads or trinities.” Tiki, therefore, corresponds to Krishna and others. We select the following triads from Mr. Lillie's work on Buddhism for comparison. He says, “I have tried to draw a table of this triad idea in the old creeds:—
[Footnote] * Mau-whare-kino= “Maui of the dirty house,” and may allude to a Turanian form of an Aryan-like sun-god, which (as the husband of Pani, the goddess of the earth and agriculture), would be likely, enough.
[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]
|Gnostics||Abraxas||Sophia||Gnosis or Christos.|
To these I will add the following:—*
[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]
|Maori||Uta, or||Hema4||Tawaki,3 or Karihi.5|
|Maori||Rangi||Papa||Tiki.1 (?Contracted form of potiki, the child or germ.)|
It will be seen that the Chinese, who, it must be born in mind, got their religion from the Hindus, have preserved a name of a solar-god-man almost identical with Tiki—namely, Taiki. I might add that the Buddha Sakhya Muni, who is also a solar god-man, according to the Chinese, was the son of the Queen of Heaven, the “Lily Lady” (after the lotus) of Marichi=ray of light. This name Marichi (ray of light) seems to correspond to the Marikoriko (or twilight) of the Maoris, who is said to be the wife of Tiki. The daughter of Tiki and Marikoriko was called Kauatata, a name that approaches the Esther, or Hadassah, and El-issa, that is Venus, of Western Asia. The particle ka, being a root common to many Turanian tongues, meaning burnt or black, Ka-uatata might then possibly be “black Esther.” The Egyptian root was aka or âga, to burn (consume by heat); Maori ahi=fire, and kapura=fire. The k sound in K-ush means black, and ish is man; Cushite means, therefore, black man. So in Hindu, ka-ua=the crow, that is the black bird—the original, I believe, of the kaaia (sparrow-hawk) that roused up Tawaki, and is called his ancestor, thus betraying his Turanian or dusky origin. So we have in Hindu Kali, and Krishna, both meaning black. But this is by no means the only correspondence between Maori tradition and Western Asiatic antiquities; for the latter have been intimately connected with those of India; but these analogies I have reserved for my next paper, as they connect more with the Aryan portion of the subject.
But if Marikoriko is Tiki's wife, so is (according to the Rarawa Maoris) Pani; perhaps, as Kali is the terrestrial repre-
[Footnote] * By referring to the reference figures in the above table the connection may be more readily traced.
sentative of the celestial Aditi (space), Pani is a terrestrial Marikoriko.* “‘The god Pan,’ says Mr. Kendall to Dr. Waugh, ‘is universally acknowledged. The overflowing of the Nile, and the fertility of the country in consequence, are evidently alluded to in their traditions…. Query.—Are not the Malay and the whole of the South Sea Islanders Egyptians?’ “To which,” says Mr. Colenso, “we reply, When will the spirit of conjecture rest ?” Whether Mr. Kendall alluded to Pani (in the capacity of a female Pan) when he said the god Pan was universally acknowledged in New Zealand, I cannot undertake to say: but Mr. Colenso has told us sufficient about Pani, in his interesting and valuable papers, that I think a lawyer might make out a very fair case for defendant, and prove from Mr. Colenso's own communications that there are several features in the tradition of Pani that connect her with Isis; and this is not to be wondered at, for she is the earth goddess, the Ceres, Isis, Mahadeo or Kali of the New Zealanders; that is, the mother from whose womb the fruits of the earth are derived—a goddess peculiarly the object of devotion to the Turanians, who were emphatically the agriculturists of the ancient world. The Polynesians resemble the Egyptians, just as far as the Egyptians can be shown to be one with the Turanian nations of India. Just as the soil of Egypt, which Isis personified, was fructified by the Nile, so we find from Mr. Colenso's account of Pani, that she, when producing the kumara, enters a river, and gathers the roots with her hands from her person, and fills her baskets for the ovens. This seems to me to allude to a time when the New Zealanders dwelt in a tropical country, when the cultivations were planted after the floods had watered the ground, or were irrigated. In India pâni is water, but whether the Maori goddess derived her name from this, I shall not even conjecture, though the sea as well as the earth was deemed a womb of Nature. Pani may be equal to the Hindu yoni, the female generative organ.
“The kumara,” says Mr. Stack, “and aruhe were the offspring of Huruki and Pani; aruhe (fern-root) was the ariki (lord), because it descended from the back of its parent; while the kumara, having come from the front, was inferior in rank.
“Descend from the back, the great root of Rongi,
Descend from behind, the fern-root;
Descend from the front, the kumara
By Huruki and Pani:
Then it was nourished in the mound,
The mound of Whatapu,
Great mound of Papa,
Great mound of Tauranga;
There was seen the contemptuous behaviour of Tu;
There they were hungered after,” etc., etc.
[Footnote] * Quoted by Mr. Colenso, “Trans. N.Z. Inst.,” vol. xi., p. 77.
“The kumara,” says Colenso,* “is Rongomaraeroa (fame-re-sounding-(in)-long-open courts); the aruhe is Arikinoanoa; they are both children of the Sky and Earth,” (Rangi and Papa), which comes to much the same thing as their being descended from Huruki (Tiki) and Pani. Mr. Colenso gives a translation of the story of the fighting of Tumatauenga with his elder brother Rongomaraeroa (the kumara), in which contest Tumatauenga kills and eats Rongomaraeroa. Tumatauenga is evidently the Tu, “whose contemptuous behaviour, and hungering after the kumara,” are mentioned in the waiata just quoted from Mr. Stack. Mr. Colenso, in his notes on his paper, explains Tumatauenga (“Lord - with - the - fierce - (or - strongly-emotioned) countenance”) as man, who arms himself with weapons, which Mr. Colenso interprets as the koo, the Maori spade, having “two mouths, four eyes, four ears, and four nostrils to its two noses. “The name given to the battle was Moenga-toto (“sleeping in blood,” or “bloody sleep”). He adds: “Tumatauenga's destroying the kumara may indicate—(1.) That man at first did not know how to cultivate and to preserve that valuable root. (2.) That fierce fighting man was an enemy to the quiet cultivator, and cared nothing for the arts of peace.” A remnant of the kumara tribe took refuge in Pani “her stomach (puku) was wholly the storehouse for the kumara, and the kumara plantation was also the stomach of Pani.”
In Mr. Taylor's work, Tumatauenga seems to be another name for Tumatauenga, the third son of Rangi and Papa, and the grand author of evil. He is also (I presume for shortness), designated Tu, the great god of war, in the North, answering to Maru in the South.” Now, Maru seems to answer to Mâra, or Death, the Sagittarius of the Hindu Zodiac. (Of Tu and his family I shall have more to say later, in my next paper). It will be seen from this that another construction than that given by Mr. Colenso is possible. Tumatauenga, (“lord of the fierce countenance,”) who destroys the kumara field, reducing it to “a bloody sleep,” may mean the pestilence of drought in a tropical country, drying up and reddening the kumara crops; and it is just as likely that the koo was modelled with a “Janus-like appearance,” (as Mr. Colenso describes, and conjectures it was made so for some esoteric reason), to meet a Hindu, rather than a Latin, idea, and originally represented the symbolic weapon of the destroyer; just as Yama, the ruler of the Hindu Hades, is represented as attended by his four-eyed hounds. The koo may have taken this shape to commemorate this very contest with the “lord of the fierce countenance;” or it may have been introduced into the story as merely an exoteric feature, when the true significance of the story was forgotten, or on purpose to
[Footnote] * “Trans. N.Z. Inst.” vol. xiv., p. 35.
disguise it. The word koo, the Maori spade, is probably derived from the Hindu khΌdh, (the rhyme with “loathe” gives the pronunciation), which means to dig.
If Tumatauenga is man, he must have lost a good deal of the “fierceness of his countenance” before he had any kumaras to fight: and it is strange that the milder he has grown the bloodier has been the field of struggle, and the wider the devastation; for the more civilized man has become, the more fiercely and ravenously has his poor brother the kumara been attacked and devoured. It seems to me Mr. Colenso's interpretation halts; but Mr. Taylor's account of Tumatauenga, as the great author of evil, sets it running.
In Mr. Colenso's valuable notes on the “Invocation to Pani, on the planting of the Kumara,” one or two other points are noticed that recall Hindu Turanian influence. Mr. Colenso says of the invocation itself: “It is just possible that the kernel of this charm, or invocation of Pani, may be amongst the very oldest known! “and again, “Of the various spells, etc., anciently used in planting the kumara that I have acquired from several tohungs during many years, there are no less than three which contain this direct invocation to Pani; and while the introductory words of those three forms vary a little, the kernel—the invocation itself—is almost literally the same in them all. “He, adds, in a later note on the invocation itself: “Note its great simplicity, its gradations, and its recurring refrain, repeated regularly six times.” It will be plain that Mr. Colenso has not exaggerated either its importance or its interest. Its’ extreme importance will, I trust, be the more thoroughly appreciated, since a comparative study of it with. Hindu antiquities has proved the claim to antiquity put forward for it by Mr. Colenso; and certainly its interest will not be lessened when “its poetical. structure, and its regular fitting and progressive disposition, and its recurring refrain,” point its kinship with the hymns: of the Veda.
The muttering of the charms in the plantations to procure fertility, by the tohungas, reminds Mr. Colenso of similar practices among the Egyptians and Romans at the vernal festivals. But this was a Hindu feature as well as an Egyptian; and from the East it passed in much later times to the West. Mr. Colenso mentions another “strange plan” adopted by the Maoris of the interior to insure the fertility of the soil. The skulls and bones of Tia and his party, who had died at Titiraupenga, near Taupo, were “annually brought out and placed with much ceremony in the kumara plantations, by the margins of the plots, that the plants might become fertile and bear many tubers.” This might be a traditional echo of the Meriah sacrifice, as is still practised by the Khonds, an aboriginal tribe of Turanian India. “The objects of their worship,” says Canon Trevor, in a little book on
India and its missions, “include the moon, the deity of war, and the Hindu goddess Kali. The favourite divinity, however, is the Earth, in the cultivation of which this branch of the Dravidian family has attained to considerable proficiency. In order to induce their god to yield them an abundant harvest, a rite called Meriah is annually performed, which is no other than a human sacrifice. For this purpose children of both sexes are purchased or kidnapped from neighbouring tribes, a foreigner being deemed essential. The intended victims are carefully reared and guarded in villages appointed to this use. At the appointed season a feast is held, with drunken and licentious revellings, for two days, during which the victim is indulged with every sensual gratification. On the third he is brought out, and bound to a stake or tree; and at an appointed signal the savage Khonds rush in with their knives, pick away slices from the yet living body, and hasten to bury them, warm and palpitating, in their fields.”
Mr. Colenso designates the tradition of Tia “a portion of an ancient relation he had from the Maoris of the interior.” The story runs significantly, somewhat: “Tia and his party did not return from Taupo (inland), whither they had gone, to Maketu (on the coast); they all died inland at Titiraupenga, where their bones,” etc.
Perhaps they (if historical) fell victims to a Maori form of Meriah; or, maybe, Tia is only a form of Tiki, the husband of Pani, the goddess of the kumara plantations (or, rather, the personification of the plantations themselves); he would thus represent the solar-god, or male principle, fructifying the female principle: for it can be shown that Tiki is also Siva or Rudra, and Pani is only another name for Uma or Kali, thus manifesting a Phallic connection.
But the most interesting fact mentioned by Mr. Colenso in this connection, is the following: “In conclusion,” adds Mr. Colenso, “another curious superstition relating to Pani, sometimes observed on the harvesting of the crop of kumaras, may also be mentioned. At such seasons, a peculiarly-shaped, abnormal, and rather large kumara root was met with, though by no means frequently, (sometimes not one such in the whole cultivation), this was called ‘Pani's canoe’=Pani's medium, between her and the priest…. It became the peculiar property of the priest, and was set aside to be cooked at a sacred fire as a kind of offering of first-fruits…. such a kumara was chiefly, if not only, to be found when the crop was a very prolific one; this fertility was also taken as another proof of Pani's gracious visit.”
Why, here we have nothing less than the ship of Isis, the female symbol of phallism—the yoni, that is, or boat that carried the first-fruits of the womb of Isis, or Nature, at the
harvest festivals of Egypt. “In its purely symbolical aspect,” says a writer in “Harper's Monthly Magazine,” “the ship is very conspicuous. It is the emblem of wealth, and the hieroglyph of plenty. The earth itself is an ark, containing within itself everything necessary for replenishing the world. And so, in the old mysteries of dead religions, the ship always had an honoured place, being carried in the processions of the priests, either in its own form—an actual ship model—or in some occult symbol of the symbol—a bowl or cup, or shell, or water-flower. So, in the worship of Isis, a ship, sometimes of colossal size, freighted with the first-fruits of the year, was carried by patient kine in a triumphal progress—‘the voyage of Isis’—from shrine to shrine, in the early days of March.” The occult symbols—the ship, bowl or cup, or shell, or water-flower (the lotus lily, that is), all mean the yoni or womb of Nature.
I may add, it attests the tenacity and value of tradition, that it is for this reason rather than for any other that sailors call a ship “she.”* The Kumara, then, or “canoe of Pani,” undoubtedly alludes to the yoni of the Hindu Phallic cult. The word yoni itself is retained in Maori in not exactly the same sense, but in an allied one. The Tahitian for kumara is umara; and Mr. Colenso has shown that in South America the name is umar; perhaps this form, umara, was the original one, and connected this fruit of the earth with Uma or Kali, who, we shall presently see, represents Pani.
The kumara, then, represented the female symbol of the Phallic cult; the aruhe, or fern-root, which was said to descend from the back, as the kumara was said to descend from the front, represents the phallus, in the vegetable economy of nature, just as Tane does in the animal. The Mahomedans of India say they are descended from the backbone of their fathers.
In the “Spell of Paikea” the “skid of Houtaiki” is mentioned. Mr. Colenso explains in his notes that this alludes to the skids on which his canoe was drawn up on shore; “it also meant a barrier that might not be passed, known as ‘te puru o Houtaiki.”’ “The name of Houtaiki often occurs in poetry in connection with that of Houmea,” says Mr. Colenso, and he refers us to the story of Houmea, of which he gives a translation. There the name appears as Uta, and he is the husband of Houmea; that is, Ho-uta is the husband of Ho-umea, and they are the parents of Tu-tawhake, or Tawhaki. I have shown that Tawhake and his mother, Houmea or Hema, and his father, Uta or Mahuta—or, as it would seem, Houta as well—correspond: the first to Krishna, as represented by the name Dewaki; the second to Uma or Kali; and the third to Mahadeo or Siva—the Turanian Trinity—all members of the
[Footnote] * See “Rosicrucians.”
same family, the counterparts in Maori tradition of the earlier Turanian Hindu triad. I have shown that Kali, or Uma, is the terrestrial mother-goddess, the Earth; and, as such, she must represent not only Houmea, or Hema, but Pani, the Maori earth-goddess. So the inference is clear that there is really no difference between Houmea and Pani. Now, the husband of Houmea is Houtaiki, and the husband of Pani is Tiki; and these names of the husbands approach so nearly to each other that they seem merely two forms of the one. So, then, the inference is strengthened, if it be premature to assume it proved. The form Taiki, of the Chinese triad, represents exactly the latter part of Houtaiki of the Maoris; but I have shown that, as the Maori anthropomorphic deity, or direct Creator of man, the Maori Tiki represents the Taiki of the Chinese—as he does also the other solar-god-men of the other triads of Eastern religions. So then, I think, all doubt must be removed from the inference that the Maori Houtaiki, the Chinese Taiki, and the Maori Tiki are names for the same solar deity—the husband of the terrestrial mother-goddess Houmea, or Pani. The skid of Houtaiki therefore refers, in an occult way, to the phallos; and, as barriers that might not be passed, they answer the same purpose as the phallic obelisks that marked the precincts of consecrated or other ground in the East.
There is a curious passage in a paper by Dr. Buller on a bird, the Tieke (Creadion carunculatus), or Saddle-back, which is well worth considering in its bearings on this connection of phallism. “The tieke is regarded,” says Dr. Buller, “as a bird of omen by the Natives of the Bay of Plenty. It is also the mythical bird that is supposed to guard the ancient treasures of the Maoris. According to Maori tradition, among these hidden things is a stone atua…. The Natives state that this species usually places its nest in the hollow of a tree…. A pair is said to be still breeding in the hollow of the famous tree at Omaruteangi, known all over the country as ‘Putatieke.’ “It is added in a note: “Putatieke: a renowned hinau tree in the Urewera country. It is supposed to possess miraculous attributes. Sterile women visit it for the purpose of inducing conception. They clasp the tree in transport, and repeat certain incantations by way of invoking the atua.”
The Egyptian and Greek women used to touch the phallos for a similar purpose; and I think there can be no doubt that a phallic meaning is hidden away in this traditional usage of the Maoris. The name Tieke is sufficiently near the name Tiki to suggest a connection; and the fact that, among the treasures guarded by the Tieke was a stone atua, probably a heitiki or image of Tiki, bears out the suggestion. As Tiki and Pani are shown to be identical in character or function to Uta and Hema, the Maori counterparts of Siva and Kali, the phallic deities of
the Hindus, the drift of the practice of the Maori women becomes intelligible. Putatieke means the hole of the Tieke; and tieke, besides its signification as the name of a bird, is also applied by the Ngapuhi Maoris to the fruit of the kiekie: it is called tieke; as also, from its resemblance, by a more suggestive name, ure, which means the phallos. Patatieke may then, in an occult sense, refer to the phallic images, the lingham and yoni, of Hindu Turanian Phallo-pantheism. The “mythical bird” signification of the Tieke is equally Hindu; it is the “winged Garutmat” of the Veda and the winged disk of the Egyptians; the mystic bird that librates o'er the mundane egg, and fructifies it; the bird symbol of the union of spirit and matter, which therefore answers to the male and female serpent of Phallism.
Now, it appears to me that evidence could hardly be more significant and cumulative for the establishing of the truth of any proposition, than we have here in Maori tradition for the solution of the problem as to the “Whence of the Maori.” The lords many and gods many of Turanian type, of both the Maori and Hindu Pantheon, resolve themselves into a triad, consisting of father, mother, and germ; they are found with similar names—names scarcely altered or disguised in the Maori from their originals in the Hindu. These gods and goddesses, or heroes and heroines, have similar functions, and have similar stories told of them. Then, again, seeing that Maori tradition carries the Maori race back to Wairota, which has been shown to he one with Bharata; seeing that philology confirms this tradition, it is hard to resist the conclusion of the identity of the races, or that their deities occupy identical niches in the one Pantheon.
The Maori features of this study carry some instructive lessons, which it were well for the student of Eastern thought not to overlook. One is, the esoteric and symbolic nature of Eastern legends. It is mere waste of time to credit a philosophical people like the Hindus, (and unsafe even of those with whom they have had at any time contact), with notions that are popularly, though rather unwarrantably, ascribed to children—that inanimate things have, for them, a life similar to their own. Even children do not really believe anything of the kind; they simply amuse themselves with such a view for the time being, just as poets indulge themselves in imagery. This matter, with regard to children, can be tested by at any time taking up the r∘le of the little poets. Do so, and they will very soon open their eyes in astonishment, and laugh at you for your credulity. A case in point, from several that I am personally cognisant of, will make this clear. A little fellow at Russell, about (or little more than) two years old, frightened by the noise of the steamer's fog-horn, clung to his mother. She, to reassure him, said, “Oh, it is only the steamer telling the people to come on
board, quickly, quickly!” “Mamma, steamers can't talk,” was his response; and I believe such cases might be multiplied indefinitely, as often as (with a little tact) we care to test the matter.
Professor Max Müller says something to the effect that with children the chair, or table, or pussy, shares with papa and mamma an equal share of life or intelligence, as the case may be: and on this view comparative mythologists have tabulated an infant age in man's beliefs, when talking wolves or snakes, and such like, were living realities, by which we may gauge the intelligence of the people who told tales about them. Nothing can be more unsafe than this, at all events when applied to tales or traditions that have had their origin in the East.
There is certainly no greater myth than crediting the Hindus with belief in the actual, rather than the symbolical, nature of their myths, as is the fashion among Europeans generally. Their mythology, and therefore that of all Western Asiatics, is symbolical. St. Paul well indicates this principle that underlies all Eastern writings, etc. “The invisible things of Him (God) since the creation are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that are made, even his everlasting power and divinity;” that is, visible things were, in the East, used to express the nature of invisible things; the visible formed the symbol of the invisible. Man has made the mistake, on the one hand, to deem the symbol adequate to this expression; and, on the other hand, the uninitiated (the greater number) have had no just conception of the symbol, a fact which has merged it into the idol: and, moreover, anthropomorphism, which was intended in the East to be modified and corrected by being taken in the symbolic sense, and not to be taken in the actual or obvious sense, by furnishing the Deity with unworthy attributes, led to the corruption of morals and the degeneration of thought. The sooner the symbolic principle is recognised, the sooner will the East yield up its secrets, and its symbols be interpreted: the literal or exoteric signification is a delusion and a snare, as our examination of the Maori legend of Tane testifies. Exoterically, Tane is a tree that pushed up the sky, and propped it; and, in the belief of the uninitiated, he is not only a tree that walks and talks and works, but he begets children, which are other trees, and birds of course, seeing these, lodge in the branches; but esoterically, as we have seen, the legend was built on a philosophical basis, and its authors had a keen insight into the nature and end of things. This is testified to in the analysis of the story, wherein Tane is resolved into the phallos; and this construction is still further borne out by a fact not mentioned in our examination, that one of the wives of Tane is Para-ure, the name of a substance which doubtless Mr. Huxley would pronounce protoplasm, and could prove it so on chemical analysis;
a substance which over and above its chemical and material constituents, contains what physiologists term spermatozoa, that represents a living and fecundating principle.
Another point of importance is the nature of fossil names and words. Native etymology is helpful, just so far as the words are not fossil; but in the case of fossil words the original form of the word has been mimicked in sound, as nearly as possible, by similarly sounding Maori words; the etymology of which native words may, or may not, express the significance of the original. For instance, Mahuta, a name of Tane, is such a fossil name; its Maori etymology may, or may not, express the meaning of its original, Maha-deo, the great god; but its association with the other names, Karihi or Krishna, Tawhaki or Dewaki, Hema or Uma, betrays its origin. The native etymology cannot upset the inference that is to be drawn from this coincidence. In the case of Karihi, which means a kernel, or a sinker of a net, or eel-pot, we find the etymology has only a lateral reference to the original subject, having a phallic significance; but it is not the equivalent of the Hindu name Krishna, which means “the black god.” This idea of blackness, however, may have been originally expressed in the Maori tradition by the introduction of the name of a brother, or counterpart, of Karihi, that is Punga, that being the form of name in the tale as it now stands, (but which may have been originally Pango, or Mangu, which both mean “black” in Maori; Pango may have been a translation into Maori of the Hindu name Krishna, on the framing of the present tale). However, by the slight alteration of the name Pango=black, into Punga=an eel-pot, and the retention of Krishna in the Maori form, Karihi, “the sinker of the eel-pot,” the phallic idea was capable of being in an occult way expressed: and as it was no part of the Aryo-Maori priests’ interest to emphasize an an-aryan feature, as blackness of colour, the change was the more easily effected; and the original Pango=black of the Maori, and the signification of the Krishna of the Hindu, which answered to it, was effectually veiled, only to be understood by the initiate; until the meaning itself became lost, only to be recovered on a comparative study. Similarly, Mangu = the black man, another form of Pango, may have suggested the shark idea; for by a very slight alteration Mangu becomes Mango, “the shark.” A second purpose would be served by the change: the original reptilian, or rather, reptile-worshipping, nature of the cult could, in an occult way, be hinted at: and the effacement of Punga and Karihi, the Turanian brothers, as rivals of the more Aryan Tawhaki, be the more effectually compassed.
The deduction is plain, unless indeed the arguments, analogies, and coincidences brought forward prove altogether erroneous, that in the elucidation of the problem as to the “Whence of the Maori,” the comparative method is the only adequate
means of arriving at a solution. The efforts of Maori scholars, however ingenious, will prove as futile as those of old classical scholars, who strove to elucidate the etymology of the Anglo-Saxon elements in English from a comparison with Greek and Latin. The study of Sanskrit gave the right key to the unlocking of the philological problems of the Aryan nations. Mr. Thomson's happy discovery of the linguistic and ethnological relationship of the Maori races to the aboriginal Turanian races of Peninsular India, or Bharata, forms the key to the solution of this interesting question. Mr. Thomson's examination advanced it to a stage which has been termed (in reference to the government of a State) “practical politics.” All previous theories have seemed to me to lead to nowhere. Maori mythology, though interesting, like all mythologies, needed a key: as to the historical contests of the Maoris, the struggle of the Kilkenny oats patterns the lot. Mr. Thomson's discovery marks a new departure, for it concentrates the study: the rays of diffusion that mark the spread of the Maori race converge to a focal point, Bharata.
With limited means for investigating so important a question, and a slender knowledge of the Maori tongue: were it not that the analogies, etc., between the Maori traditions and the Hindu lay so near the surface, I could not have ventured on the consideration; but the results seem so marked, and final, that I have ventured to bring them before you.