FROM A LONDON LOUNGER.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 13, Issue 1028, 6 March 1869, Page 3

FROM A LONDON LOUNGER.

A conventional Christmas seems to be a thing of the past. I have no doubt that in your fanciful imaginations you picture us snowed-np or frost-bitten, piling up logs on the Christmas fires ; our houses festooned with icicles, and hungry robins tapping for food at our breakfast-room window. Nothing of the kind, I can assure you. Nous avons change tout cda. Christmas of the jolly, bluff, old-fashioned kind, lies but in the imagination of writers in story-books. Bain, wind, muggy weather, mud, and slush — these are the attributes of the modern English Christmas, aud weary accompaniments they are to a season which should be devoted to mirth and jollity. The shops try to remind us of what has been ; the butchers buy prize meat from the cattle show, and decorate the yellow fat with gaudy ribbons ; the grocers pile up their plums and candied peel, and crown the mountain with holly ; the booksellers sell special editions of the Illustrated London News, and are overloaded with Christmas numbers and annuals ; the toy shops and the Lowther Arcade still tempt the little ones ; but, in spite of all these reminders, it requires a strong effort of imagination to believe that Christmas has come. Even journalists have become spiteful and cynical on the subject. The Pall Mall Gazette has taken up its parable, and declares that Christmas greetings and Christmas kindliness are merely affected sentimentality, and that it is ridiculous to pretend to bo happier at this season of the year than any other, implying, at the same time, that the tradition of Christmas is merely an excuse for gluttony and excess. This niusb be cheering news for you, good friends, who long, perhaps, to be at home at Christmas time, and are thinking of us all sitting round the family circle in our cosy English homes. Well, let the Pall Mall Gazette and inevitable grumblers talk ! There are some amongst us still who love Christmas for its own sake and its noble associations. Though the weather is dull and murky, wo can be thankful for the present and hopeful for the future. Among this number your faithful correspondent desires to be i*eckoned, and sends to all away from home a happy Christmas greeting, and. a sincere wish that in New Zealand you may enjoy " A Happy New Year." If any of you happen to study our satirical journals, you will not have failed to observe that a great deal of the "chaff" of the day is devoted to our inefficient police system. That police are never at hand when they are wanted, and that there exists a mysterious feeling of unanimity between the- preservers of the public peace and our domestic servants, have been stock jokes with our pantomime writers for years past. Lately^ the badinage has assumed a more serious form, and direct attacks have been made against the Chief Commissioner of Police, Sir Eichard Mayne. His recent edicts confiscating dogs and the hoops of children in the streets, have certainly not tended to increase his popularity. The universal cry has been, " When will Sir Eichard Mayne resign ? " Sir Eichard has had no cause to take this step, for the day after Christmas Day death carried him off at the advanced age of 72. A young, active, energetic, and determined man, is much needed at Scotland Yard. At present, our police system is the worst of any European capital. As Englishmen, we have a natural horror of surveillance, "but we have similarly a great hatred of neglect, and have no wish to hand over our lives and property without a struggle to the care of burglars and roughs. I know that you have heard all about the celebrated Eachel enamelling case. By a queer freak of fortune, this wretched woman is out of captivity and at large again, on bail. Owing to a legal quibble, sho has obtained her freedom. It appears that the judge who tried the case— Mr. Commissioner JCcrr — had no right to sit in judgment at the Old Bailey ; the trial was consequently illegal, and until Madame Eachel can be tried again — the third trial, by the by — she will wander at large. Captivity seems to havo given her a certain respectability. A few months ago, no one would become bail for her, and now she obtains it without any difficulty whatever. Another celebrated person is also at "large. A certain Sir Culling Eardley, who committed bigamy in the coolest and most deliberate manner, aud was sentenced to penal servitude, has broken down in health in prison, and has been set free on the condition that he will not come near England until his term of imprisonment is over. Accordingly, he settles in Madeira. For a long time we have been drifting towards the abolition of capital punishment. The Daily Telegraph writes periodical sensation articles on the subject. You know that executions are now only permitted within the precincts of tho gaol. A great agitation has just been set on foot to prevent the execution of a heathen murderess — one Priscilla Brigadyke — the reason being that at Christmas time a general amnesty should take place. However, the execution took place, Christmas notwithstanding, and Priscilla tho poisonress — if I may use such a word — is no more. London has lately been visited with the most fearful gales known iv the memory of the "oldest inhabitant." Eoofs of houses have been carried away bodily, j conservatories destroyed, trees blown down, and chimney-pots scattered far and wide. But other parts of England have suffered besides London, and the daily accounts of accidents to life and limb are heartrending, Meantime, tho life-boats round the coast have been doing noble work ; and the self-righting properties of the life-boats of the National Life-Boat Institution, havo been widely extolled. Not a night passes that is not distinguished by some plucky deed by tho crews of those life-boats. The Ritualists have received a blow by the decision in the case of Martin v. Machonochie. Henceforward, it will be illegal for Eifcualists to play at Popery under the shelter of the wing of the Church of England. Wo aro to havo no more candles, incense, vestments, or bells. < If young parsons don't like Protestantism, they will havo to join the Church of Home. When John Bright took office, there was much gossip touching the manner in which he would be received by the Queen, and whether he would kiss hands, and if ho would decline to kneel, Mr. Bright's religious scruples being well known. Ho is a Quaker. Tho penny-a-liner was naturally rampant ; all sorts of stories were current on the subject, and, as is usual on such occasions, tho wildest rumours were spread, naturally inaccurate, because they were theories of the maguificent penny-a-liner, who, as a rule, is not behind the scenes. The facts of tho case are simply

thi'se :— A minister, on takiug office, does not kneel to the Sovereign ; lie merely makes a slight inclination, and kisses the Sovereign's hand. On this occasion of John Bri^ht's presentation, Her Majesty, fearing that even, this ceremony might be distasteful to Mr. Bright, like a high-bred lady sent him a message that she would dispense with any of the formalities, if they were distasteful to the new minister. Mr. Bright might possibly have objected to kneeling, but as there is no kneeling in the ease, he responded to Her Majesty's gracious message by declaring that he would be presented in the usual manner. Accordingly, he inclined and kissed hands. A cock-and-bull story has appeared in print, to the effect that Her Majesty sent for Mr. Bright afterwards, and complimented him on a certain speech he had made at a public meeting in St. James' Hall, and that the Princess Eoyal, who happened to be staying at Windsor at the time, similarly eulogized his public actions. The whole story is the wildest fiction. Mr. Bright was not specially sent for; Her Majesty merely remarked privately on his appearance, " What a benevolentlooking old gentleman." I have this from an eyewitness, and can rely upon its accuracy. The new evening halfpenny paper, called the Echo, started by Messrs. Cassell, Petter, and G-alpin, the well-known publishers, turns out to be a miserable failure. No less than £2500 was spent on advertising the paper before a single number was published. The proprietors provided themselves with two of the celebrated Marinoni's printing presses, capable of printing 80,000 copies in an hour. The paper is badly edited, and does not suit the taste of the halfpenny public, if indeed such a public exists. It does not follow because the Petit Journal succeeds in Paris, that the Echo should succeed in London. People who want exclusive and authoritative information won't look for it in the Echo. If the proprietors had inserted light gossip and essays and fiction, it might have done. At present it looks like a miserable sheet of wishy-washy, uninteresting, and stale matter. I fear the time has not yet come for halfpenny papers, and they must be brisk and lively to succeed, not dull. I expect that the upshot of the matter will be that the shape of the paper will bo altered, the price changed, and the Echo made a penny Pall Mall Gazette. This is much wanteel, and would pay. The Pall Mall is twopence, and gets duller every day. The two new theatres I spoke about are open. The " Globe," I fear, will be a failure. A capital comedy by Mr. H. J. Byron, called " Cyril's Success," has been played there, and the house is light and. pretty ; but a comedy per se will not draw people to the " Globe." Besides, I hear that the theatre was only run up to be run down. Street improvements will soon require the site, and then, of course, compensation will come in useful. I anticipate greater things from the " Gaiety." It is a beautiful house, decorated to perfection, and certainly has no rival in beauty or comfort. The bill is light and pleasant; burlesque and ballet are the great attractions, and burlesque and ballet necessarily require pretty girls. Before and behind the curtain we see nothing but pretty girls. All the actresses are pretty and, to tell the truth, a trifle fast ; all the attendants are pretty, and a trifle fascinating. In these days of the drama, this is what hits the public. Art is out of the question. Paint and padding, fair hair and gilding, pretty legs and dreamy scenery, light and love — these are the orthodox stage properties. "My face is my fortune, sir," she said. This is the parable that the actress of the period takes in hand. A pretty photograph, carefully posed, and well-tinted, is advertised in the shop windows, and the young lady instantly becomes a celebrity, and walks about with thousands of pounds' woi'tti o? jewels on l\er neck and fingers. A certain notorious " Mabel Gray," once a nursemaid, then a ballet-dancer, has thus flourished to fame. The fascinating photograph, mysteriously introduced next to dignitaries of the church in the shop windows, took the public. The photograph became notorious ; afterwards, Mabel Gray became notorious. She now receives a heavy salary to appear nightly and be stared at in the Holborn Casino. Young lordliugs sigh for the honor of touching her hand, and behold Miss Mabel Gray is transformed from an insignificant nobody into La Beine dv derni monde ! Telia est la vie ! Claeence Capulet.