page 78

Concerning Names.

Here is a paragraph of exceptional stupidity. First appearing in an Australian paper, it has made the complete round of the colonies. In town and country papers it has figured, in large type and small, turning up again and again like a counterfeit shilling. We now nail it to the counter:

A successful grocer who lately erected a « palatial residence » south of the Yarra, gave it a pretty-sounding native name, of which his wife was very proud. One day when she had friends to dinner she was expatiating on the sweetness and poetry of the name, but added that she had no idea of what it meant. « Perhaps, » she said, turning to a retired squatter, who was one of her guests, « you can enlighten us? » This gentleman is one of the old school, who prides himself on calling a spade a spade, and he gave a reply that threw a solemn silence over that dinner table. The very next day the name was chiselled out of the stone pillars that support the gate, and an honest English name was made to supply its place.

Foolish, and probably untrue, as the above anecdote is, it will serve as a text. And the first thing it suggests is the poverty of invention displayed by Englishmen generally in the matter of nomenclature. Whether the object to be named is a locality, a race-horse, a ship, or a newspaper, the same absence of originality is manifest. When originality is striven after, the result is often still worse. As for example, the recently-reported instance of a Lord of the Admiralty who named her Majesty's ships after his pack of hounds « Swinger, » « Bouncer, » &c.; of the West Coast man who named his horse « Seldom Fed »; and of the English laborer, who christened his « Jubilee » twins « Jew- » and « -Billy. » In the case of territorial names, the matter has become so serious as to call for State interference. Native names, which have the advantage of being indigenous to the soil, are euphonious and unique—a consideration of the first importance. They are neglected and despised, and the first consideration in re-naming a locality appears to be not to find a name that shall be either appropriate or distinctive, but one that shall be already borne by one or perhaps twenty other places. There is a sentimental view of the matter, certainly, which we cannot express better than in the words of Campbell:

And long, poor wanderers o'er the ecliptic deep
The song that names but home shall bid you weep;
Oft shall ye fold your flocks by stars above
In that far world, and miss the stars ye love;
Oft, when its tuneless birds scream round forlorn,
Regret the lark that gladdens England's morn,
And, giving England's names to distant scenes,
Lament that earth's extension intervenes.

But the sentiment poorly compensates for the inconvenience suffered when a letter, urgent, it may be, containing important enclosures, deliberately makes the grand tour of the colonies; and after being post-marked all over, back and front, is at last opened in the Dead Letter Office. The sentiment is a poor one, after all, and there is something to be said on the other side, as the poet himself realized before he reached the end of his poem:

How many a name, to us uncouthly wild,
Shall thrill that region's patriotic child,
And bring as sweet thoughts o'er his bosom's chords
As aught that's named in song to us affords!

Time has justified the prediction. Let the reader turn to the poems of Kendall, and note the effect of the musical native names: « Araluen, » « Moona, » « Arawata, » and many more. Let him substitute some of the « honest English names » so much in vogue— « Smithtown, » Jacksonville, » « New Sheffield, » &c., and observe the result. He will be inclined to dispute Juliet's dictum.

Assuming that the little story at the beginning of this article narrates an actual occurrence, let us examine it a little. Did the grocer give his villa a local native name—one that had a real association with the place? If so, especially as the name was euphonious, he did a sensible thing, whatever the signification might have been in the original. If, however, he appropriated at random the name of a distant locality, he did very foolishly. As to the « retired squatter, » who possessed so intimate an acquaintance with the objectionable words in the native tongue—his interpretation was in all probability egregiously wrong. There is a class of surnames in our own language which a confident and illiterate foreigner would have no difficulty in translating in a way that would « throw a solemn silence » over a decorous assembly. Yet a moderate knowledge of etymology proves them to be entirely innocent in their associations. There is even now in this colony a gentleman writing voluminous works on the history and traditions of the Maoris, who is rarely, if ever at a loss to interpret a native name, and whose interpretations are often ludicrously incorrect.

By all means let the names be retained—whatever their meanings may have been. They have no ill meaning in English, and if a too curious linguist disentombs some real or fancied evil association— Honi soit qui mal y pense. Let the names be written correctly. Let us not have hybrid forms like « Waikivi » and « Kartigi, » painted in large letters on South Island railway stations, to set the North Islander's teeth on edge. The names will be characteristic, suggestive of the country, and if they ever acquire a geographical or commercial importance, will not be contemptible, like such forms as « Robsontown » or « Billycock Gully. »

There is one class of native names which are not generally available, on account of their frequent recurrence—such forms as « Wainui » and « Wairoa » for example. But the local Maori names are so abundant that a distinctive one can always be found in the immediate vicinity.

It should be illegal to have two places in the colony named alike. Yet we have half-a-dozen Havelocks, and nearly as many Palmerstons and Hastings. Wherever coal is found, the discoverer calls the place « Newcastle. » Consequently an explanatory « (N.S.W.), » « (Waikato, N.Z.), » &c., &c., requires to be appended.

In Hawke's Bay there is a valuable block of land, celebrated on account of litigation, named Heretaunga. A few years ago, some bush settlers, founding a special settlement a hundred miles away, instead of hunting up a local name or finding an original one, appropriated the name of « Heretaunga, » to the distraction and confusion of all at a distance who have to communicate with the place. « Here-taungaspecialsettlement » is rather a cumbrous name for a locality; but nothing less will identify it.

There are two places named « Riccarton » in the South Island—one in Canterbury and one in Otago. Each possesses a public library, but communications addressed « Riccarton Public Library, Otago, » are almost certain to be forwarded first to Canterbury, that being the senior settlement, and the only « Riccarton » on the postal list.

Names, to be of any use, must be distinctive. They should also be euphonious, and not too long. And in every case where possible, the aboriginal names should be preserved. We will conclude with an ancient saying of great significance, quoted by Mr Colenso, in his valuable paper on « Nomenclature, » from Zoroaster's Chaldean Oracles:—

Never change barbarous names,
For there are names in every nation given from God,
Having unspeakable efficacy.