BY THE WAY.

Evening Star, Issue 14185, 9 October 1909, Page 9

BY THE WAY.

- If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; I had it from my father.—‘ Henry YIII.’ fho _ common talk during the week in Dunedin haa been of Mr Fraser’s lectures; the charming, consistent pleasantness of mir climate, which should come out well in his book on ‘Peace, Prosperity, and Progressive Politics’—l give the title seeing so many people say ho has to write a book—and of what will happen when our politicians resume work. All interesting topics, no doubt, but not quite the meet interesting. I think that the most pleasing things in Dunedin thia week were the inspection of the Drainage Board’s works and sales of work. The first showed that the Board have a scheme of drainage after all, and the bazaars were proof 'of prosperity—interesting items for Mr Fraser’s book. Four sales of work were opened on one day— Wednesday—which day should bo recorded in those useful Christmas gifts, almanacs, ae Bazaar Wednesday. The opening of four bazaars in one day represents a mighty lot of Christian confidence in the prosperity, of a. generous people. If our prosperity is sound nothing else matters, reallv. But even exceeding that sign of the' times, financial and spiritual, in point of interest, was the public meeting to consider the advisability ot starting a co-operative butchery. So, at any rate, thinks mv purse-bearer. What more can men seek than commercial religion, prosperity, a genial climate, and the possibility of a chance to buy cheap butcher meat? True, nobody at the meeting seemed to know much of the co-operative system in business. That, however, is a mere detail, and of little consequence after all. Knowledge is not the chief essential ip modern business. If a man has wit enough to keep prices high he can’t go far wrong. And high prices is a feature of business in Dunedin. ******* Farther afield and “ayont the mutkle seas ” life has been rich in awakening events. Up North the parliamentary session was resumed, and, oiving to weather, there were slips in the Manawatu Gorge. Things appear to have been quiet in Auckland. Away in England the event of the century happened : it was discovered that Shakespeare in his merry time made £6OO a, year as a theatrical manager, which sum is a trifle compared with the profits of some modern theatrical managers, who have not a millionth part of the Bard of Avon’s genius. Great critics hail the discovery as tho meet interesting find since 1747"; even more interesting, indeed, than the nailing of tho Stars and Stripes . to the North Pole, So be it. Lord Rosebery has tired of talking about the British Budget, Mr Healy and Mr Redmond had what the newspapers call an Irish disunion, and Sir Robert Stout received the honorary doctorat© of law from Manchester University. And it should not be forgotten that in Eonnio Scotland the Australian cricketers hobnobbed with Royalty—an Incentive for Otag© cricketers. In America a half-witted youth tried to “do” for President Taft; thre© clever men invented a reduction gear to save a mint of money for shipowners; Pittsburg newspapers’ readers, witli no knowledge of the matter, settled the rival claims of the Pole finders; and the crew of the battleship Minnesota beat the crew of H.M.S. f Drake, and won the Battenberg Cup. In Russia the authorities announced that they intend to spend a quarter of a million sterling on aviation. The Germans found a new process for making steel, and managed to get their first Dreadnought to the open sea: to say little of the fact that Count Zeppelin is arranging forth© construction of a huge airship to carry forty Germans. Over in Sydney a chemist’s assistant, who had to work on Labor Day. got some compensating excitement by accidentally causing “a tremendous explosion ”; and a.t a place called Wyalong a man got knocked about by an Australian cyclone. Those who have found the world wearisome should go and till the soil. All things considered, the happenings during the week prove that New Zealand is more favored than any country. And onr c r edit is high in the land of money-lenders. 'That, of course, you all know. ******* Mr R. S. Smythe has been a good friend to Dunedin. It is interesting, after the flight of more years than one cares to remember, to recall the names of some of the celebrities the “ much-travelled ’’ has introduced to the people of this City. At once there comes to memory the old Princess’. On tho stage stands a man in evening dress, Charles Clark, immaculate, incomparable. A chair, a small table, a tumbler of water, aro all the accessories, and then there pass before tiro vision men and women, created by the genius of Dickens and Thackeray, whom it is a delight to know—Sairey Gamp, Beckv Sharp, Micawber, Scrooge, Bill Sikes, Captain Costigan, the two Wellers, Eawdon Crawley, and the others, a goodly company. Thackeray and Dickens, creators; Charles Clark, interpreter. What more could one want? Then there was Archibald Forbes, war correspondent. A man to dare and do. Speaking with difficulty, yet when he did speak one had a vivid impression of the pomp and circumstance of glorious war, amt hoard the clash of arms, the tramn of armed men. the voices of tho captains and the shouting. Of the same type was Stanley, tho finder of Livingstone, tho man who fought Africa and conquered. A strong, squarejawed jman, dour, silent, grim. The years spent in that Dark Continent had left their impress on his mentality, and one felt that his narrative touched, so to speak, only the fringe of the vast forests which he penetrated, and that the tale he told, compared to the one ho might have related, was mild indeed. To the younger generation George Augustus Sala is probably unknown, but once upon a time his was a name to conjure with. He was a publicist and journalist of repute, but non© knew better than he that bis was the fame that passeth quickly out of knowledge, for he said : “If I am remembered when dead it will not bo by my work, but by a sauce I invented in an idle moment.” His lectures were entertaining, very, for he had that personal gift, granted to few, of making every subject he handled full of life and vitality. ******* Max O’Rell said that the reason Scotsmen wore kilts was that their feet were too large -to go through trousers. He said many other things about Sandy that would have sounded unkind coming from another Itl j u b but Hie people understood something of his Gallic temperament and knew that anything this witty Frenchman said or wrote was not th© outcome of spite or malice, but merely from exuberance of spirit and a quick eye for the comedies of life. Ho used his lance-thmsts with some effect on John Bull’s body, but Englishmen never resented it, and few lecturers liad greater success than he. When he spoke here ho got a hearty welcome. We enjoyed his lectures, but were rather disappointed that the jokes at our expense did not seem as good as those on Hie people of th© Homeland. So with Mark Twain. W© imagined that he was a reservoir of jokes, and that when ho turned on th© tap they would pour out of him like water-down a race. And the people of Dunedin wore disappointed. They found after all that though he was a maker of jokes he was not a mechanical contrivance for turning them out to order by the dozen or hundred or thousand. But his was a most interesting, charming personality, typically American, kindly, rental, droll; and the experience of having hoard Mark Twain lecture is one that is cherished. Others that one remembers ar© R. A. Proctor, with his fascinating lectures on astronomy; Basket Smith, rthe Orientalist, who galvanised into life subjects that are considered dead and dry; and H. R. Haweis a clergyman, a man of the world, who talked of everything—music, politics lit, poetry, and, best of all, of Garibaldi, the famous Italian patriot and general the warnor of Caprera, “ a name that earth will not forget till earth has rolled her latest year.” Haweis was in Italy

'when Garibaldi was winning his battles, lenew him, witnessed the devotion’ of the ragged soldiers to their hero, and of Garibaldi’s love for his “little, children.” All these lecturers were men of distinction—some famous, some whoso names will live long, all men of remarkable personality. *******

And this brings us on to John Foster Fraser, Messrs Smythe and Son’s latest importation. Mr Fraser put his foot on the ladder of success when ho sot out, with two other adventurous young men, to go round the world on a wheel. He succeeded. Ho wrote a book on that remarkable cycling tom’, and he has gone on climbing up the, ladder ever since, until now He can get people of their own free will to pay money to hear him talk. He is a lecturer who doesn’t lecture. His conversation is happy, humorous, shrewd, i Chunks of statistics are not hurled at your head. There are no hair-raising adventures (though, without doubt, ho has experienced many). The way he dodged the Bengal tiger was by way of being an anti-climnx. There are no horrors to speak of. No startling predictions having relation to things that are being made in Germany or in the Near or Far East. .So, you sec, he might easily be accounted by some a failure in the art of lecturing. For we do like statistics; we do like romantic adventures; wo love horrors, and we are fond of gloomy predictions about the German menace, the Russian bogey, and the Acl low Peril, though (perhaps because) no has not lectured us, John Foster Fraser, a strong, modest man, who has endured and retained his cheerfulness, has us nailed; ho has “made good” with the people of Dunedin; he has not discovered the Pole, but he has found the way to our hearts, and we wish him a safe passage on the stormy sea of life. 3

******* “ Some of us will smart for it.” General Booth says: “We are all criminals. The only difference is that those inside the prisons Imre been found out, and those outside haven t. Punishment, punishment, punishment, it is always punishment; but there is no merit in pain to change the human heart, and that is what we must do if wo v sh to reclaim the criminal classes.” .' mitever way wo look at ourselves, the just verdict of Lady Stout notwithstanding, we aro all a bitd lot. The criticisms of men by men are really disheartening. “All men are liars ” is the verdict of one Royal critic, which need, not bo taken too literally, seeing that he himself was an angrv man and comes under his own judgment. fSoine authorities have said that all men are mad. and at least one poet has said that men were deceivers ever. And yet •“ a man's a man for a’ that.” “ What a chimera, then, is man'. What a novelty, what a. monster, what a chaos, what a subject of contradiction. what a prodigy! A judge of all things, icoblo worm of the earth, tlonrn of uncertainty and error, the glory and the shame of the universe”! Yes, some of us will smart for it. But what else can you expect if man’s ancestors he rememberer! : There was an ape in the days that were earlier. Centuries passed and his hair became curlier; Centuries more gave a thumb to iiis wrist— Then he was a Man and a Positivist. ******* “The Right Hon. John Burns, ALP., has been an engineer, a boxer, a striker, a prisoner, a labor secretary, and a Cabinet Minister.” And yet men talk of the decadence of the British race! A paragraph like that fills the hearts of struggling men with hope. No man need despair of greatness. Even gaol may be no more than another step nearer success, which should he more easily _ gained in New Zealand. We have no strikes here. The upward wav is a step shorter—worker, boxer, prisoner, labor secretary, Cabinet Minister. If the ladder must be of similar length, football player can be substituted for striker. But most of us are doomed to failure. There are not enough Cabinet Ministers’ places to meet the demand. To acliievc the position of an ordinary paid politician is not bad si'Ccees all the same. ******* It is pleasant to know that in these days, when the need of Women’s Protection Societies is great, the disease of broken hearts, according to a, leading medical journal in England, has quite “gone cut.” To be broken-hearted is no longer fashionable. The class of broken heart that lias dropped out of popularity is that which used to be ruined by frustrated love. In a ladies’ journal of fashion I noticed that two reasons are given for “this more healthy state of affairs'. One is that mere children are not now encouraged to think of love and matrimony; and the other reason is that women do not fall in love as once they did.” Don’t they? The journal goes on to say that “if there are fewer cases of broken heart than formerly it is probably due to the fact that women are much more practical than formerly, more occupied bywork and spoit. which allows no lime for useless fretting." Do you notice how great a friend work is to women. And then, “moreover, our gills are prone to remember that there is as good fish in the sea as overcame out of it." Aye, and as bad flunks, too. If that fashionable nonsense is the best that fashion journalists can devise, let them take to sensible domestic service. As if there conk! be a fashion in love I Momcs.