V. LETTERS AND VERSE.

Press, Volume LXVII, Issue 14052, 25 May 1911, Page 14

V. LETTERS AND VERSE.

In correspondence the FitzGerald touch ranges from philosophic discussion to liveliest badinage. When Darwin's discoveries fluttered the dovecots of Old World theology, far dwellers on the Canterbury plains also debated this alarming descent of man. Dr. Barker

published some interesting paper's opposing the new views as irreconcilable with revealed religion. To him Fuz--G era Id writes of the first :~^

"I have receu'ed your ■■ paper, ■ and read it with that peculiar interest which attaches to all able productions with which one disagrees in toto." His objection to the line of argument is then explained: "I cannot ,allow any ideas which we call religious to interfere with our observation of matter. No revelation is to mc more sacred than that given to man in Nature. And if ihe. revelation to the soul and to tlie senses appear to differ, I do not doubt tho truth or sacredness of either, but am sure that it is only our present infirmity which obscures our powers of comprehension,- and that one day all wiil bo in harmony. I have long contemplated giving a lecture to show the harmony between the doctrine of evolution and the Scriptural account of the Creation, in whi-m I entirely believe. And, still more, its harmony with the Scriptural and historical, view of the moral government of the world, Darwinism is not yet incorporated - with tho canon of scientific truth. It is but suggestive. Generations will pass before th© belief of the scientific world will settle. But he is, to my mind, one of those great apostles which the world receives from time to time, who havo given a new stimulus to mental research and a new interest to study, and so have dono something towards fulfilling tho very doctrine itself by lifting men one more round on thc ladder to God."

Dr. Barker answers regretfully :— "If I cannot write so ns to make a clever fellow like you understand "mc, how shall I hope to penetrate the dull brain of tho general public?" And he is not placated by FitzGerald's further definition of tho advanced view: "This is how the question presents itself to mc. There are a multitude of phenomena admitted, but unaccounted for. Darwin suggests—for I think it is unfair to speak of it as more than that — the direction in which we must look for the solution of these phenomena. Such, for example, as tho transmission ot family likeness, the reappearance of black blood after being apparently whitened out for several generations, one child being black and another white from the same parents, etc. You undertake to prove that Darwin's suggestion can't be true. I am far from saying that ho has proved his case. What he has done is merely to give the keynote to discovery. The proof of his theory will be the turning up of hosts of new facts discovered in the light of his theory, bj' which it will ■•lie finally established or will be overthrown. All negative arguments involve the illogical position that there is no solution of the phenomena nt all." After dealing with the religious view of man's individual creation, this letter ends: "I.fall back on the position that the more we know of Nature the more individual will disappears, and law takes its place.. I therefore regard as useless all efforts to prove that 5 there must be an absence of law at any point. Nor can I see anything whatever affecting our religious belief in the notion that man, body, soul, and spirit, has been developed out of 'lower form.'" That the controversy left no bitterness behind is shown ■by Dr. Barker's pleasant farewell:— "You know it has been my inisfortuue to differ from you on every conceivable point tor tho last one and twenty years, and yet I hope I shall over continue to subscribe myself your old and constant friend, Alfred C. Barker."

Iconoclasts always appealed to FitsGerald, and he gave perhaps more weight than was its due to a literary schism. In a letter of 1888, he wrote, "I am deep ill Donnelly and his cryptogram. It is a beastly book. But it is almost overwhelming. I confess I am fairly staggered at the weight of evidence. Had it been well written, and of one-third the length, people would have read it—l fear few will. In fact, it requires a sub-cryptogram to realise Donnelly himself. Still, Shakespeare's reputation ia sorely shaken." With another enthusiast on a debateable point. Sir William Fox. there was held in early days a lively discussion. "The Press"'had criticised the formation of •a Christchurch Total Abstinence .Society, and thereby earned amongst the extreme men, a shocking reputation as a paper where wit was nourished on strong drink. Hence FitaGerald's glee in forwarding to Sir William Fox some remarks upon the latest decree of science—

"Tlie lament of a teetotaller on learning that a philosopher had discovered that alcohol in considerable quantities existed in the earth, the water, nnd tho air—

"Gracious heavens 1 Is it true That tho springs, tho rain, the dew, The air we breathe The earth beneath Are stained with, alcoholic hue?

What of th. sacred oath I've ta'en, Thai spirits never should again Defile my lips With luscious sips, Deadening heart and maddening brain,

What, alas, is left mc now Since Nature's self revokes my vow? What but to die In misery, Shrivelled like a broken bough.

Farewell, false air that taints the breath; Farewell, foul water, drink. of death; Thou earth that bcarest] In form the fairest Nought but the food that poisoneth.

Even death will be but mockery; My flesh in alcohol will lie, And undismayed My soul betrayed Will to the land of spirits fly!"

The great temperancq advocate replied more ' briefly, but in equally "spirited" terms— "Dear FitzGerald, I haven't time

To put it in Thyme, But I have not the slightest doubt That I've found your philosopher out,

Like many of his class, He is fond of his glass; And wherever he goes, he.iollows his nose. So wnen he went, following tho latter, Into earth, air, fire or water, And fancying: he -melt spirits in life and death, He smelt nothing- at all but his own breath. Yours. WILLIAM FOX." FitzGerald's own estimate of his rhyming powers is given in a letter enclosing a more serious effect. "My dear fiowen, —Herewith a little odo I have printed a few copies of. It is 'a poor thing, but mine own." lam not a poet, but just a glimmering of what a poet might feel like sometimes comes over one, and one succumbs to the tender weakness." A few stanzas may show this poem's quality.— THE FLOWER. From * long sleep In the teeming earth, O'er -which soft winds sweep, I received my birth, Awakened by the voice of spring's enlivening mirth. The sun's prismatic beams, Pour through my every vein, And leave their richest gleams Of colour to remain, And with unfading hues my tender petals stain. The nectar of the air And earth 1 gather up, Distilling it with care In my crystal cup. Where tbo wild bee her fill luxuriously may slip. I gather a supply Of every element, And by my alchemy Convert it into scent. Anal breathe again in odour'the atoms which they lent. I've sat beside tbe couch Of sick men in pain. And my cool fresh touch Has calmed the hot vein; In mc the sick man saw sweet country eoenes again.

. ; —,. -. ■. '"...". •zzz'-zmm:.. At feast ftisd festival %*'>?■. 1 nru an honour'd rucat; . ■-,«%?. Scenes of pleasure all ._ VJ*%§ With mc are fitly drejst; ■ For I'm the type iV which the joy tfXfr nature- is cxpre.s'd. ' "''"-fi In the sacrrel palace * %>-'■■"'■ ' Where men meet 'to prsy. //Hr 'Mid colden cup and chalice ~v'V|| Mv clusters I display, ->'"■• And with' God's choicest plti God's tltt. |«i.B . amy, . ""'.r*'_| I am the noblest crown. ~"_", S. The highest, brightest trc-sii, - g * i Of all that can be known - >,>■■■ Of n-ture'. loveliness, , *1 Tho final touch her mighty artist did xaH'{-: H • press. ,j ~ffl-- :

And. 'though I shall die, £f| From my «;cd shall grow - '■> \ An cndess progeny ~< On the oarth to blow, . * * To carry on. the. work God gave- th. 4o*fif~,' to df>. *•» ' FitzGerald's earliest greeting to ' Zealand was that swinging mght-waQ,; song, of "The Land we're going'to* And his latesC literary interest remiuigt in the "Unpublished Thoughts ft Verse," printed for private circulatjo). in 1893, only three years before ha. 1 death. Between the lyric and these less wfill-known lines lay almost a lifetime of. experience, including the sad family bereavements which darken,od his last- years. ' "This huniblp irihute to their memories I dedicnte whose loss inspired tho tnin > Of thought which in this feeble accent frwi To find expression; but which, not in Y_ia. Perchance, has sought t'expr*sßit.elf,orfird Some iicho in thc thougllt raised ia _ _i_»" dred mind

area niiuu. - » g Hut you—ihe loved „„d lost—you know, „_. ,« (From which mv mind's dc«p intnitiont'i/H shrink) ,* fj Your poul<j h_v<-. melted into roUiisprncu— B lou know the truth of all on which ->% f!s think H With doubtful loKpfing; in ymirloftier «_her« _j| Th' nlernul truth ot all God's great dtfig* .' B is i)c_*." - |« LATER YEARS. " I The Weld Ministry wont out in 1860, ' f Gisborne. 111 a notoriously uniair csti* • | mate, states that after this Fits Gerald,'. I "may be said to have suffered political., collapse.'' It is th* view of a limits. J' intelligence- which can see no value ' in oHkc. For two years more Ffcjv"'Gerald was recognised as one ofJUj*. ablest men in the House of Itepresav-. _ tativos. "the Rupert oi debate." .In -- 18U7 lie accepted the position of Com_« > .roller-General, nnd in that office-do? _ scribed by a later statute as Ccffl'jw,- - troller and Auditor-General—he »*.#" mained till his death in 1890. The ft* ' [ quont references in his corresponde-jo. , j to bad health had prepared his friend.-. for some such renunciation of mora 1 " active ambitions. FitzGerald lived to ". old age, but life was never easy for,him. A health break-down in youth' j first disarranged his own plans for a/ A profession. The early colonial work was done against many handicap"!, r cheerfully borne; and his withdrawals ' from active politics, in 1857, and again -•' in 1867, were enforced by the samo re- : curriug troubles. "Writers who refer to - FitzGerald's as "a meteoric genius, lj . hardly bear this explanation of. inter-* ■ mitten t energies in mind. Nor do they '--• treat justly tho grand mental poise of' one who could turn unrepiningly from the more showy labors that Fate too eiirlv denied him, to the exact fulfil- '- meiit of all lesser public duties still'V within his^powor. This icmoval to Wellington had the regrettable effect of severing his long., connection with Canterbury. The great/ speech, in 1868, at the breakfast, of _• early settlers in honour of Lord Lyi-.M telton and Mr Selfe, was practically g farewell to the province which hadien-.." ' gaged so much of his thought .-.ami.' effort for a period of twenty vans.,'There was a severance also from "Press," an end to that pleMßfltj homely epoch in "Press history, vim' the owner's house adjoined the'office. t when a musical printer might be called I from his case to join in an hour's prac- I tice of Mrs FitzGerald's Glee Club, a«o>j many small FitzGeralds and their friends' ~j laid up memories of delightful scram- ' | bles amongst tho boxes in "The Presj', 1 -' i back yard. But FitzGerald's literary" I' nnd political interests did not chwe_ | with his divorce from journalism and*" 1 from the moro strenuous side of'public I life. "In the morning of life, work;-*,,.! in the afternoon, givo counsel," is an , j ancient precept well carried out by, his | career. The Comptrollership, indeed, | meant very important and responsible . I work for ii early thirty years to come. 1 Labour for him ceased only with the., i day. Still, exemption from party strife . | left more freedom for thought, and for § expressing the convictions which miplrfc- "| guide less experienced minds. In his i speech on "Religious Teaching," at the i opening of a Presbyterian Sunday | School at Wellington, he recognisedthis fact. "As; wo toii up tho mountain, of life with steps which grow etet feebler as wo approach the summit, it docs seem to mc that the horizon cv >, • human affairs, with all its rights, ;, duties, responsibilities, and ' obttga- j tions, expands its circle before. HHir. < gaze; our failing vision is more than compensated by the serenity of the at-. . mospherc in which we stand, and those - narrower views and more activoSpre- - indices which monopolised our attention in earlier life, are now seen -only . amidst the mists at our feet, or are - dwarfed into insignificance 111 thepresenco of ihe larger panorama *_uc_M_.., : opened to our view. „.-i;„- 1 In this speech, as. in a much earler one. at Lvttelton. in May, 18of, tins leading Churchman dwelt on two seem- .-, nglv opposing beliefs as ,to. religious; . education-its absolute nccos.ity -4 tJo. f yoUth of a country aro to grow mP;-,, sober steady, and Godfearing pocple,-;.* and the necessity that a State vfap religious differences exist, and 111 vriilcli /t relifeous liberty.is respected., should , exclude all religious instruction frWUrf* I its school*. "But when wo «a {old >l that this secular education by the estate . § will be a Godless education, we ™W_r\-J it is not pretended that tho education . I aiven by the State is.a complete edu- g cation. 'The State is not tho only or- J gaimation of society. We awwetata -. I for a number of objects; to supply our- - I selves with railways, gas, water, anel, 3 so on. The Church is the organisation | of society for the teaching of rdiJXWV.. I and thc public worship of the Deity. v| When the State has done its work in .-J respect of education, tho wcrk :j* J not . | all done. Tho icsponsibility ries *«*»■• tho Church to do its duty also. Just | now. when in our town schools that • | supplementary duty is-at last beconunß _* | organised on a working basis, ireMfc. | recall with inteiest that it « forty f 1 years and more sinco this warning wa»f ■■ | 'sriven. and over fifty since a meetrnfej- f headed by the Superintendent, of Can-.: | terburv. passed a resolution "that »» ' 1 establishment of e.hools on a municipal.. | or district system for secular eduea-.; ; g tion. reserving to the appointed nun*;, g 'Ster of every denomination the taSK> t a and duty of" religious instrurtion. # ;•■ the most satisfactory ""heme." Critt- , : | cism to-day woulp. affirm tho torca ,| of his artistic argument*, long »{»>>* ™* Z § 1868 lecture at the Colonial .Museum, „,| upon the two point-, which give arcru- j tecture an importance peculiar to itsen.. 1 "Fii-st that its works are durable, ana lr -- 1 secondiv, that tliey are public . . .. 4 You may hide your little ugliness m . A your own chambers, and sing out Ol tune in your own boudoirs, and indulge j in tan dry ornament, and worship a a false fasliioii in the privacy of social -a life, but you do not thereby poison ti» | public taste, or pervert the popular | judgment. But jou cannot erect forma | upon which lor long years the e JO or | tiie public must rest day by day ana g hour by houi. without more or Je» - moulding the feeling of the community, • at large. Whether you wish it or no*, every house is a lesson, every town ana , villain a school iv art. If your house .-■ bo false and hideous, it has diffused™; ugliness into the hearts of alt beholder, for the period of its noxious existence. _ .- it has to a certain extent mcapacitatcO - 1 the public mind Ironi appreciating, •=>> nobler forms. It you build ugly houses, .. in wood, your children will b«jld.ugliOf.„ houses —were that po-ibk—in stonesAll architecture was originally wooo.;. - ' -_fer

Tbo marble t.etnoloj, -v»l 'virtiei,. "f ■_then» never lorn the .\v.-.r.±. whr-ii «.to derived from iheir or:<Mi li.v.-c-r.don c:>nSruction. Hi!'4l«n<l ha-, a v.ood.n SSitwtni-o S! .«-i:.H.v acl, : .t,d to her rlimate. of remarkable brauty. In ihe rcrisliablo atnifturw ..1 _.-.v iiei- times ai-e fed the fouiuhliom. or t.uu true ar.d trhHi alone n nobler art- <-i:i un*e ot pjofe costly or pc.-inar.ent mr.trn.iK. ThronfrJi th.- years that, itillmvcd. a lou" list of niatMziito art'olrs and itdrlreS.es ■-testified lo ."itssGerrdd's continual thought fur the (ountrvs interJ_is Homf Ut.'lcis may renicmhfr n-itrl pleasure that (.lr.fi'.-.t.>jie in --.- SS fc speech on the Homo Huh* Bill, minted a letter from Ins old-tint. S3. 'Mr FitzGerald. Thr- wa, a private letter '.rnttc-n to Lord .Norton.and shown by him to Gladstom-. I.s of. the; results, of responsibl.. e-orcrament in tho c-olonies iij»pi.-Kli-d ,«> _W»t!y to tin- veteran slat«':-tnrji that fo cabled for pprmi*-sion tn n.se it in hi« Home Rule iperch. Ono can well that, as a L'nulon new-paiM.-r wiit it, this retereiice in the House of Commons "stirred hint! dormant meiiioriM and caused many hnulishmon ni ke'older order to tlutik otic*, moro «i on _ whose yoiitl.ru! raiise at this ~m j of _c earth was Itiltille.l in a lon_< and honoiirablo career at the other." Fita--■Gerakl's close eorre.stiomk'nri! with orniinent'meii was always an element which saved him from intellectual narrowness. Towards the close of Hl'e, saddened by many family boronvoments, and by tho lew* of early ooiiirados, he suffered, in-rhaps. some nientfll isolation: but to the end the visit of an old Canteiburv friend, or the rumour of a new-srientirio or philosophical idea, would arouse as an interest as ever in tilings of'the fu-iire. and as tender an affection for the nasi. Ho died, full of years and honour, in 1896.