RANDOM SHOTS BY "ZAMIEL"

Auckland Star, Volume XXX, Issue 142, 17 June 1899, Page 4 (Supplement)

RANDOM SHOTS BY "ZAMIEL"

Some write, a neighbour's name to lash, Some write—vain thought—for needful

cash, Some write to please the country clash,

And raise a din. For me, an aim I never fash— I write for fun,

No doubt the story of the Perthshire will long be remembered as an indication of how hard it is to find a .vessel at sea. Dear reader, please, do not imagine for one moment that Zamiel has a theory to advance, for nautical puzzles are not in his line. The Perthshire was only mentioned as a kind of text for quite another subject. The matter to be dealt with is one of vast importance to these isolated portions of the British Empire. People have often sneered at the Government expenditure on the defence .works at the principal ports of the colony. 'Why, a foreign cruiser would be run down in no time,' is the remark'that is generally used under such circumstances, but here we have an object lesson that is worth careful consideration. A lar^e steamer^ is somewhere in the sea between New Zealand and Australia, numbers of boats have been out looking for it, as those on board knew that good salvage would be paid for its discovery, and yet' for nearly six weeks she could not be found. Such being the case, what are the chances of a foreign cruiser getting in to some of the ports in these colonies in the event of war breaking out, if a big steamer cannot be found when it is certain that people on both the searcher and the sought would be continually on the look out? A foreign cruiser too w^ould no doubt keep as much as possible out of the ordinary route of steamers, would travel as quickly as possible, and, of course, have no lights burning at night. It is quite evident our Defence Department have not expended the money unnecessarily.

The passengers and crew of the Perthshire must, durinS' tlieir lonß' period of knocking about on the rollers of. the Tasman Sea, have experienced something of the 'Ancient Mariner's' feelings. I don't suppose any wicked sailor shot a sacred albatross with his cross-bow, and so brought down curses on the ship for that he 'was the man that shot the bird that made the wind to blow.' Nor is it likely that the Perthshire has all this time' been like the Ancient Mariner's 'painted ship upon a painted ocean.' The Tasman Sea is not exactly a painted ocean at this time of the year, as those who went out in the Tutanekai on her 'wild-goose chase,' or rather 'lame duck' hunt, can feelingly testify. Fifty days from Sydney to New Zealand is over-much in the way of seafaring; methinks I could have walked it in less than that time. Anyhow, the Perthshire (should she still be afloat at the time of writing) may pride herself on one thing at least. She has put up a world's record for a disabled steamer, as far as the period of helpless drift is concerned, and she is fully entitled to that dubious' credit. ' I can imagine the curses of her navigating officers on the development of steam, which has 'developed' masts and sails almost out of existence. Had the Perthshire been rigged and equipped with sailing power in proportion to her size, as were the fine clipper passenger steamers of the New Zealand Shipping and Sha.w, Savill and Albion Companies which used to trade to Auckland, she' could have reached port long ago under canvas. ©!fc-e3^o**fc?_?&!_MW.S!_li The Maori has his good points, but when he makes up his mind to be lazy he carries out his intention with a thoroughness which compels admiration. The working of the Old Age Pensions system in the Hot Lakes district is a case in point. News comes from Rotorua that although the aged natives in that locality bestirred themselves with tmusual activity to secure their Old Age pensions, and welcomed the scheme as one reflecting immense credit on the 'Kawanatanga' at Wellington, they are now reverting to their usual condition of happy lassitude.;1 The pension is very nice and acceptable, but they have discovered that it is too much trouble or fatigue, or danger to health, to travel to the Post-office at Rotorua for the money each month., The pakeha has been very kind to them, so he might as well do a little more and go round to them with their pensions in a little bag.

The tired natives consider that, on account of their honourable old age, they should not be called on to' attend at the post-office to receive their Snonthly dole, but that a pakeha official should visit the settlements and pay the pensions due. So representations on the matter are to be made to the Government. Meanwhile the venerable rangitiras and wahines of the Arawa have to take a monthly stroll for their pensions, and this is understood to be sending them to an early grave. The Arawa never have been very energetic—at any rate, not since tourists commenced to visit Rotorua— and as they are all loyal supporters of the Government possibly their request will be granted, and someone will be appointed Assistant-Deputy-Paymaster of Pensions to the weary descendants of Tama-te-Kapua and Hinemoa.

When an eminent preacher uses •cuss' words in the pulpit with impunity it is only to be expected that common everyday sinners will swear all the more. The Rev. Dr. Parker at the London City Temple caused a sensation the other day by shouting 'God, damn the Sultan!' I haven't heard yet whether this pious prayer has been granted, but I should imagine that if the doctor used similar language in the hearing of a policeman he would have had his name figuring in the Police Court reports next day under the charge of 'violent langwidge calc'lated to provoke a breach,' etc. I have not heard that the Sultan has injured Dr. Parker in any way, or why the latter should take such a public and angry method of damning the unspeakable Turk. For myself, I only swear when I'm irritated, but Dr. Parker hasn't even got that excuse, for the fellow he cursed, was thousands of miles away. [Well next time I have occasion to *damh' anything I will have the excuse pf a precedent in the pulpit.

The Young New Zealand Party, judging i'roin all indications, is going to make itself felt at the next general elections. Several young men of brains are mentioned as candidates , for Auckland seats iv the new Parliament, a well-known young Maori lawyer is talked of as the coming East Coast native member, aud in the South the younger class of men are coming to the front. And from all accounts, too, they will meet with a considerable degree of success. There is a trend of feeling- in favour of a newer class of men; the old fossils have about had their day. There is no need to mention names to Aucklanders; everyone of us can put his hand on a good half-dozen of Northern members who ought by rights to be sent straight home and told to stay there, or at any rate to abstain from offering themselves for Parliament. e^UUe^_^Xes«eJU What are wanted are younger and more energetic men, who will make themselves felt in the sphere of politics as Southern meu are making themselves felt; and in these days of progress we need representatives who will be up-to-date and reach the higher standard now required of politicians and statesmen. If the Auckland district is to have its rights, to say nothing of loftier and broader aims in the work of Parliament, Auckland should tumble some of its old-fogey M.H.R.'s into the wa;de paper basket and make a fresh start.

The question is often asked: 'Why don't people go to church?' Perhaps I may be permitted to give one reason without being completely annihilated by a crowd of irate correspondents. I went to church last Sunday. I'll not say whether it was morning or evening* or both, because 1 do not want to appear to reflect upon any individual, and what I am about to complain of will apply to a great many churches. I do' not know whether I can pretend to have what is called 'a musical ear.' but I know that certain singing Mill send me into the seventh heaven of delight, and other vocalisation tends to drive me to despair—to forsake all, and flee! To repeat, let me say again that I went to church last Sunday, and that I was delighted with the hearty singing of the congregation, led by a very good choir, and with a good pair of hands at the organ. I chimed in gently, for, when nearly everybody is singing, it seems peculiar to keep your mouth shutlooks as if you had never been in church before, or knew never a hymn or hymn tune. One feature of the singing' was that the tunes wen* attacked with precision, not only by the instrument, but by both choir and congregation — with one exception. This individual evidently meant well, but he didn't know that

he was almost 'invariably a beat or two ahead of time on every verse, often on eVery line, and he sang away with that whole-souled enthusiasm that so peculiarly/'pertaius to the ardent non-conformist, and with the never-to-be-drowned nasal vibration that some folks consider is a sign of intense earnest devotion. It hurts my musical ear to hear a man strangling his voice in that way. and I daresay other people feel the same way. Not, long ago I had a similar experience in another church; this time it was a woman 'with a voice.' In this bethel the congregational singing was not good, quite the contrary, and the choir might as well have sat in the body of the church for all the assistance they gave. There was, however, one good lady who evidently felt a huge weight of responsibility resting upon her, and she did her duty under rather distressful circumstances. She played the organ, or harnionium—one of those double-pedal things that you work for all you are worth with both feet, for all the world like pushing a bicycle up-hill—and at the same time sang in a good strident contralto voice, but in gasps, the air of each tune, for the greater part, much too high for her compass. I admired the lady for the amount of energy displayed, but I haven't been to the same church since. In this conuection,and chiefly apropos of the first paragraph, I may quote the following anecdote, which is attributed to the composer Cherubini. One day a young fellow called on him to have his voice tried. Cherubini heard him give a song or two, and then the youth asked: 'What branch of the profession do you advise me to go in for?' 'Auctioneer,' promptly replied the maestro and then the interview ended. es^_*^<_]_«2w2.,jt\]_t>3_i Dear Zamiel, writes a correspondent, it is a decidedly hopeful sign in these days of general degeneracy to read such spirited thoughts as those expressed in the columns of 'Zamiel' re the Ministers' Association and political religion. It seems to me that the work and success of combating the many social evils under which we are suffering will rest in the hands of the press rather than in the hands of occupiers of pulpits. The church has never recognised individuality, and this want of moral courage is tae one demoralising influence which deters the growth of nobility of purpose. No influence can pass from us which is truly noble when controlled by that narrowing fear of beingnatural. In your spirited reply to the Rev. Ready this narrowing fear was conspicuous by its absence.- Your allusion to youthful depravity is welltimed, for it is a disgrace to our professing Christianity that this evil exists in our mi.dst in the magnitude that it does. It really seems as if Lady Ranfurly. will have to come to the rescue here as in other eases. The interest of the public seem only to be roused, not by the value or necessity of the object put forward, but by the value of the personnel attached to that object. We have had a pitiable object lesson in true moi'al worth in the movements of the Society of Protection to Women and Children, also Animals, when for months past pathetic appeals have been made through the press columns for funds to carry on its humanitarian work. No response until title and money moved; and then enough money was spent on dress to appear at the meeting called for at the viceregal court as would have supported the Society for two or three years. Oh, the depravity and hollowness of human nature. Do, pray, continue the role of preacher side by side with that of reporter in the common cause. Pass on, 'Zamiel.'