SEARCH LIGHTS.

Press, Volume L, Issue 8583, 9 September 1893, Page 8

SEARCH LIGHTS.

Where m that Uleseope ? Some years ago Mr Townsend presented to the Canterbury College an equatorial telescope of great value. He attached to his gift the condition that the instrument should be put to use. For years ho had used it himself, and recorded a scries of interesting astronomical observations. But, in a broad and liberal spirit, he did not wish to restrict its usefulness to himself and his own circle of per* eonal friends. He cast about tor a means of making it more widely available, and at the same time advancing the cause of education and science. So he presented it to the Board ot Governors as to a body that might fairly be assumed to have that cause at heart. WJtere is that telescope t It has often been pointed out that our local University has been singularly neglected in the matter of private benefac-' lions. The wealthy meu in Canterbury have built convalescent homes, have erected Cathedral spires, subscribed to Jubilee memorials, enriched museums and art galleries, but no one of them ha 3 ever elecied to perpetuate his memory by founding a scholarship or establishing a prize at Canterbury Coilege. Mr Townsend was the first to set the example of a liberal interest in the College. Hie gift was hailed with enthusiasm, and accepted with tlianka. AKD there the matter stands. The tote of thanks is beyond dispute. It is recorded in the minutes. But where is the telescope ? Stored in the College" deus" or tarnishing in the chemical laboratory 1 Or, is it really true that the Board has pawned it—to raise money for '* testing machines?" All their efforts appear to be devoted to borrowing from Peter to pay Paul; their ono concern to tangle their finances to provide " testing machines" for the School of Engineering. No white elephant of Siam ever so bankrupted its Keeper in hay and rice and sugar as this albino monster threatens to ruin the Board in testing machines. Are the liberal arts to be for t>ver at the mercy of a generation of bellows-menders and boiler-makers ? Has no member of the Board a son who wants to learn astronomy ! Or, has the science no charms for them till you spell it with a " g !" Cannot the Chairman epare a thought from the lenses in his camera to bestow it on the the lenses in this telescope. He has his reputation as a scientist to conserve. I pray him to look to it and help us to solve the riddle— Where is the telescope i The acceptance of Mr Townseud'e gift carried with it other duties beyond the courtesy of returning thanks. The Board pledged itself to make use of the instrument. If it will not do so let it be returned to the giver. The sooner the better. If it como to a question ' of storage epuce I have, no doubt he can manage that in his own backyard. Deeper than a mother's love for her child, more constant than a maiden's yearning for her first sweetheart, greater than an aotor's passion for "calls,"or a Scotchman's affection for sixpence, is the love of Tommy for s> Lord. Every other passion in the human breast pales its ineffectual fires before the fervid passion a Cockney lavishes upon a Duke—especially when the Duke in ' his serene condescension elects to take unto himself a Duchess. The fulsome adulation, the nauseating details of backstairs gossip, the prevailing tone of sanctified snobbery with which the marriage of the Duke of York has inspired the Home papers musi fill an ordinary colonial with unutterable contempt for English journalism. Yet ib satisfies a genuine want. The Cockney publio evidently demand this kind of flunkeyism from their newspapers. For the -London correspondent .of the Press informs us that thousands attended the Institute to obtain a view of the wedding presents on* the Friday after the wedding. It was intended it should be a "private view." Such of the scobs only as were " Fellows " were to be permitted to examine the royal butter coolers and teapots. But " in order not to disappoint" the publio Sir Frederick Abel, we are told, graciously permitted the common, or garden variety, of enobe to enter as ••Fellows' Friends"—the fees for admission totting up the respectable sum of £380 for the day. They could have seen ac fine articles in jewellers' windows 'or furnishing warehouses for nothing. But diamonds and dust pons don't really interest the lordloving Cockney unless they have been earmarked for the wedding of a Duke. On the following •• free" day 10,000 to 12,000 availed themselves of the ducal condescension. And the inspection, we are unctuously informed, "was an undoubted treat to everybody." The English monarchy, I believe, will endure for ever. It has its foundations deep down in the hearts of the nation. It is built upon the solid rock of English middle-class snobbery. A correspondent writes to ask my advice about the coming elections. He had thoughts of standing for a constituency, but this Franchise Bill has upset hint. He fears •' he will not take with women." So do I; ! for ho is as honest* as the day, and as ugly KB a stump fence. However, there is no need to despair. Remember it is only the Womanly Woman you have to please; the ordinary woman—the woman with a small w—the merely angelic as distinguished from the Womanly Woman, will not go to the poll. She will leave that to the males of both sexes. Try the following recipe which I prescribe for a woman's candidate :— Affect the Admirable Crichton, and talk of all the virtues with a glibness that suggests familiarity. Never plead guilty to little sins, but darkly hint that you have had great ones. Let them see that woman is not altogether an enigma to you. If you choose either of the Surfaces for model—be sure it is Joseph—the man of sentiment— and qualify yourself for the part by committing to memory a judicious selection of I copybook headings ; aud show your teeth j when you srailo. Then they'll vote you a nicely spoken young man. Do your drinking on tho sly, and your thinking by proxy. It would bo well to pin a blue ribbon on your coat, and affect a kindly interest in the Sunday school. When you appear in public yon should wear a devout expression, and a well fitting coat. Especially the latter, for women like a man well tailorised. Never smoke at election time, for they hate to talk to a man whose breath smells of stale tobacco. Sea that you are clean ahaven—every morning. Your chin should be as smooth as your tongue. Above all, handle the baby right side up. Unless you have "a nice way with children," I wouldn't give the beard of aa ouiou for your chances. Be discreet in the composition of your speeches. Refer to the enfranchisement of woinau as the great and glorious movement of emancipation, aud swear you have believed in it all your lite. Put tears iv your voice when you refer to the wives of the unemployed, and rite to eloquence ou the curse of drink. Bpeak of the Bible as the grand old book, and refer to parsons ( " as those noble men Who devote their lives to the service of God." Get on Btilts occasionally and talk over their heads—something vague and dreamy and poetical about the am-ness of the great to bo and the so-ness of the as- it were; give them something in Worthington's vein or Madam Stirling's—as much as possible like the metaphysical boundings of a kangaroo in a mudpool of allegory. They like that. They cin't understand it, but they love the romance of intellectual twilight. And when you perorate, come it strong. Ring on George Eliot' and Mrs Browning; touch on Boadicea and Zenobia; and reserve for your climax the immortal name of Florence Nightingale; no speech will be complete without it. Sit down on "Florence .Nightingale,*' aud you are bound to fetch'em. Finally, " these few precepts in thy memory see thou character." And I think you'll win. Thus the cables:— " A farm labourer near Kilmore, and for many years a member i,l Uih Mounted Rifles, died, when it waa discovered that it was a teaman." Here's a pretty derangement of epitaphs "J. confounding of genders. If women SKi • tl,c * eprauka we shall *» "• wriw our gruminare and provide b. fourth genuer. 1% w obviou* that neither maaetihaa, fenuuuie, nor neuter will fit a case of

tins kind, and I sincerely hope that it may not be common. How Would "feminineemancipate" or "masculine-impersonate * do for the womanly woman in trotuers ; or, if these are objected to on the score of length, " herraaphrohne ?" It is obvious the author of the cablegram experienced considerable difficulty, for he tries all three genders in turn. And to make confusion worse confounded, after assuring us emphatically on Wednesday that "it was a woman" he refers to her on Thursday as the "male impersonator," meaning, I presume, the female impersonator of a male. On tbe whole, I regard this woman as the missing link in the gospel of evolution, according to St. Worthington. In his " Talks to Men," he speaks of a " He-She-It-Man." And here in the town of Kilmore he, she, it is. I NOTICE that in the House yesterday Mr Guinness suggested and Mr Seddon approved of the suggestion, that members of the House should retain their free railway passes for life after they have sat in the House for two Parliaments. This is a truly brilliant idea, but it does not go farenough. To make it really worthy of a liberal statesman it should extend to the wages. Let every member who has sat in the House for two sessions retain his wages of £20 a month—exempt from duns—for the rest of his life. I make a present of this suggestion tq Mr Seddon, and have no doubt he will give it his earnest consideration. Dr. LoMAX-SMrrn, better known to readers of the Paess as " Philalethea," kindly permits mc to publish in my coiumn his diverting poem " "Salutations to the Squaws," written by him for the ladies' night of the Savage Club. The great white chief of Christchurch, By Maui's beard he swore That fruitless briefs and hostile chiefs Should vex his soul no more. Go forth, my trusty braves, go forth, And in a nobler cause, The night prolong with mirth and song In honour of tbe squaws. From many a pah and wigwam We come your praise to tell. Well Papanui knows us, Opawa knows us well; From Fendaiton and Linwood Do haste by co ich and tram j From Avonside and Sumner's tide, And beerless Sydenham. From office stools and counters, From Hospitals and Banks, From far and near our course we steer To swell the savage rauks; Bold warriors we, true Britons free, Brave Celt and hardy Scot, And some of us ha /c brought our aquaws, And some of us have not. Gone are the stirring days of old, Gone are our warlike sires. But still their valiant deeds are told Around our council fires, When "wild" in Papanui swamp The " noble savage ran," And every warrior in the camp Had scalp'd and cooked his man. Yet though no scalps of eaten foes Around our belts are shown, We manage still with careless skill So far to keep our own; And if a few are rather bare, The well-known fact remains That what a savage lacks in hair He quite makes up in brains. In peaceful garb we come to-night, Your sympathies to prove: Prepared to fall, if not in fight, A dozen times in love ; For while in matters deeply versed That learned minds perplex, As savages we've always nuned A weakness for the sex. We worship you as maidens, We doat on you as squaws, We deem it fair you took your share In making (household) laws, For still, though great affairs of state Might tempt you forth to roam, We think (excuse our savage views) Your highest sphere is home. And though you've got the franchise now, And though it seems to-day That petty votes in petticoats Have really come to stay ; Yet once before, remember this, By taking your advice, To win a moment's doubtful bliss We barter'd Paradise. Yes, since that hour in Eden's bower Your beauty made us sin, Just think a moment of the scrapes You've helped to get us in ; Your tears, your smiles, your winning wiles, We know they can deceive, Yet what would Paradise have been Without its wilful Eve ? A pipe without tobacco, A pewter miuus beer, A emart turn-out in frocks without A jealous rival near; A bridal-scene without the bride— In each there lurks a flaw, Yet what are all of these beside A home without a squaw ** There's many a thing in our doll lives We've got to do without, That all of us can't marry wives I fear 's beyond a doubt: For Cupid's sake, ye wifeless, take Such comfort as ye can, » 'Tis but a faded charm that hangs About a married man. • Now in our psaceful wigwams ' We lead labourious lives, Our martial air that daunts the fair Alone »las ! survives; No more we wield the spear and shield As was our savage wont, With chasten'd skill we wield—the quill, Or keep some clerks—who don't. Yet oft in these degenerate days, Fond memory brings again The looted kainga's smoking blaze, i The mangled heaps of slain; We hear once more the battle-cry Ring wildly in our ears, And, mad to conquer or to die— We join the Volunteers ! But chiefly in our hours of ease We study to amuse, And to that end our minds unbend In homage to the Muse; 'Tis true we seldom tempt our fate On steep Parnassus' brink, The mews we mostly cultivate Is Glarkson's or the Rink. Yet, though by nature shallow brain'd, We hope to prove to-night That savages, when caught and train'd, Can sing as well as fight; And should the value seem but small Of poor attempts like these, Yet what, if not original, Are Aborigines ? Still through all faults you may discern. Be sure the fact is true Whene'er in search of praise we turn Instinctively to you; Then be your eyes each hero's prize, We need but your applause To give our best of song and jest In honour of the squaws. The Bohemiak.