THE MARAE. 359 



here comes Mr. Snowball, with his amiable sister. Widow, widow, 

 beware of Snowball." And notwithstanding Mr. Tickler has been 

 thus hovering on the verge of a precipice for forty-four years, he is 

 still an old bachelor. 



With his own sex the amorous old bachelor is by no means so 

 great a favourite as with the ladies : he neither drinks, unless a single 

 glass of wine, generally home-made, nor smokes, nor meddles in the 

 affairs of the nation, nor joins the club, nor swears, nor hunts, nor 

 goes on 'Change, nor lends money, nor runs in debt, nor gambles ; he 

 does nothing, in short, that, in the usual mode of reckoning things, 

 can stamp him with the name of "good fellow : " on the contrary, he 

 is looked upon as a man who has so long dangled at the end of 

 apron-strings, and spent his time so perpetually with women, that his 

 right to the masculine dress is exceedingly equivocal ; and in con- 

 sequence of this injustice, they do not hesitate to joke him most 

 unmercifully. But Mr. Tickler is a happy man notwithstanding, 

 and his green old age will pass away quite as harmlessly and plea- 

 santly as his youth and manhood. And finally, he will bequeath 

 his property to the Penitentiary and Lying-in Hospital, and will be 

 immortalised by having his portrait hung up in the board-rooms of 

 these laudable institutions. 



THE MARAE: 



AN ADVENTURE IN POLYNESIA. 



THE earth has no spots more beautiful than many which are to be 

 found amongst the remarkable islands now called by the general 

 name of Polynesia. T have visited many lands, have rambled in 

 the olive-groves of Italy, have gazed with rapture on the scenery 

 and vegetation of the fairest parts of the East ; but no where have I 

 felt so impressed with the beauties of nature, as in Tahiti, Fare, and 

 other islands of the Pacific. 



The aspect of these favoured spots from the sea is most romantic : 

 viewing them from afar, with their belt of coral reefs, they seem very 

 " gems of ocean," guarded, as it were, by some mysterious power 

 from the influence of winds and waves. 



I had had a most uncomfortable voyage, partly on account of the 

 rugged temper of the captain of the trading vessel in which I had 

 unluckily embarked, and partly that the vessel itself was badly 

 found, and badly managed. We had enjoyed a faint misty glimpse 

 of land before I went below for the night, when on coming on deck 

 in the morning I found the vessel at anchor, and the glorious light 

 of a tropic morning revealing to me a scene of exquisite loveliness. 



The vessel was rocking idly to and fro in cairn water. At the 

 distance of a mile seaward, a barrier of reefs kept out the surge, 



