MAX O’RELL.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LXXIX, Issue 9943, 24 January 1893, Page 5

MAX O’RELL.

AN INTERVIEW. (BY OCR SPECIAL REPORTER.) Few authors, probably, have revealed more of their personality in their writings than has Max O’Eali, and as all my readers have, of course, read those charming boohs of his, they must, equally of course, know a good deal about him. Several hundreds of them heard his "lecture” at the Theatre Royal last night, and several thousands of them will read the report of it, and thereby acquire still more information about him. What, then, can I, the interviewer, tell them of him ? Perhaps I had better remark here that this article no more deserves the title of “An Interview,” though I have written it atop, than Max O’Eell’s sparkling c£at at the Theatre deserves that of “ Lecture ” awfal word. Those persons who, misled by the title, began the perusal of this in expectation of being treated to “ important statements” Facts, with a capital F, Figures, and Oracular Utterances, such as are' generally administered to the public through the medium of an interview, had batter s.top reading just here—and then go and get a copy of last Saturday’s Times, and refresh themselves with a column.or two of wool sales, a capital corrective of the effects of frivolous reading. The author—Max O’Rell himself—the lecturer —also Max O’Kell himself—and the reporter have had their say about my Subject, and have left me nothing but to record the impressions—the reason why I prefer that word to "opinions” will appear farther on, derived from a familiar and very informal chat with M. Blouet (is there one of the several thousand readers of the Lyttelton Times who does not know that Max OTleli’e real name is Blouet ?) which I had yesterday afternoon. About an hour after the renowned author and humorist arrived in Christchurch from Timaru, I was ushered by the “ much-travelled ” E. S. Smythe into a room at Coker’s Hotel. As I entered there rose to greet me a tell, powerfully built man of middle age, with a massive, shrewd, reposeful face, keen eyes and a firm mouth—a countenance which, in repose, has a certain gravity, almost severity, due, perhaps, to a long course of severe exertion in hammering the French language into the thick head of John Bull, jun. The countenance instantly relaxes as its owner grasps my hand; the eyes beam with a kindly light; the warmhearted, impulsive, humorous character of the man reveals itself. During our chat I get still further glimpses of the personality of the famous writer, glwapsea which confirm the impressions created by the perusal of his books. He is canny, is Max O’Eell, shrewd, keenly and deeply observant ; not a man likely to commit himself to statements without knowing something about the basis of them. If he should write a book about us—which, by-the-way, ho did not say that he would—we shall not be treated to harsh criticism which a little more knowledge on the part of the writer would have shown was not deserved. ms Mission. Max O’Eell’s criticism, however, as readers of his books know, is never harsh: keen it may bo, but it is always kindly. His mission demands that it shall be so, for Max O’Eell is a man with a mission. Yes, though he make folks laugh, a great, a noble mission, none other than the preaching of the brotherhood of nations; that great fact which, were it recognised as it should be, would make war a thing of the past. Did the Frenchman, the Russian, the German and the Englishman each "know the other as he really is, that national pride and national prejudice which are so helpful to those whoso business, pleasure or interest it is to take millions of men from peaceful industry and send them into the field, to cut one another’s throats would be almost unknown. To help to remove that pride and that prejudice by showing two of the greatest nations of the earth what each other really is, is the mission of Max O’Eall. He laughs when performing his mission ; it is better than if he groaned. People in thousands read him, hear him, when ha laughs for he makes them laugh, too. How many would hear him if he groaned? Heaven knows man has enough to groan over already. Let us welcome, then, the man who makes us laugh, especially as, if he be marry, he is wise also. To return to his personal appearance. With his moustache, erect carriage and generally alert bearing, M. Blouc - . looks decidedly military. He has been a soldier and rode iu the gallant squadrons which so heroically covered MacMahon’e retreat on the disastrous day of Worth. He fought also in the tragic days of the Commune. It is said that France owes a debt of gratitude to the Communists. France, and England too, owes a debt of gratitude to one Communist at all events, the good fellow who, at the bridge_ of Neuilly, fired a certain bullet which knocked over Lieutenant Blouet, and compelled him to retire from the service, invalided. Had it not been for that Communist M. Blouet would, in all probability, have passed through life as a Dashing Militaire though not exactly of the type made familiar to us by our friend George Lauri in the Old Guard —and Max O’Eell would never have been heard of. We might have had General Blouet instead; but who, iu France or England, would give up Max O’Eell for a General ?

But my readers, even those who prefer the frothy fancy of this “interview" to the solid fact of the wool sale report, may exclaim, “Enough of this! We know what the man looks like, and what he did; but what did he say ?" Well, after the formal introduction was over, the first thing ha said was, “Don’t ask me my opinion of travelling from Timaru to Christchurch in a mixed train." I did not; I have undergone that journey, and so I merely remarked thathia opinion probably coincided with my own. Of course, my readers who were not at the Theatre lest night will want to know if the distinguished Frenchman spoke with “ a French accent.” Well, he spoke fluent, idiomatic English, the English of an educated gentleman, too. His voice had a quality which the voice of an Englishman usually has not; just sufficient of an “accent” to indicate that the speaker was French, a fact of which, presumably, ho is proud, and more honour to him for it. The Frenchman who is not proud of his nationality, with its heroic and glorious associations, is as despicable as the Englishman who is not proud of his. IN AUETBAMA. Seated on a sofa, and puffing a cigarette, M. Blouet chatted pleasantly of hia Colonial experiences: “I have been nine months in the Colonjes,” said he—“ln Queensland, Now South Wales, Victoria, South Australia and Tasmania. Before that I had a six months’ tour—my third—in America. When I have finished this tour through New Zealand—in, say, six weeks—l shall have given four hundred and fifty lectures right off, with only about a month’s holiday—on the Mouowai in the Pacific. I have only had a week’s experience of real Australian life—a week in the bush. Life in Melbourne or Sydney is practically tho same as life in any other city. There is, though, more of the openheartedness, the hospitality which you find in new countries. Melbourne is, perhaps, more American than Sydney, which is something like Birmingham or any English city. Yes, Melbourne is a little like an American city. In Australia they are a lecture-going people; they understand lectures; they don’t expect to seo a man cutting capers, I found the audiences keen, and very appreciative." TOIABU —QUITS KNGXJSH! “ I suppose tho province of Canterbury is very English ?” queried Mas O’Eeil, turning the tables on bis questioner. I replied that people hero liked to be told so. “ It struck mo in Timam," he remarked. “ I had a magnificent house there, and a magnificent dress circle, all in evening dress—it struck me as very English, more English than Otago. The

audience was very keen and extremely appreciative.”

JOHN BULL WITH ELBOW-BOOK.

A remark—by me—that Colonials were apt to " blow,” drew the response, “ All people are very much alike as to that, but they have different ways of showing it. We don’t blow in Paris; but we take it for granted that the stranger has sufficient good sense to be struck with our many excellences. John Bull’s assumption of superiority is the most provoking of all. In new countries, however, people think it necessary to tell you, or to ask you, if their country is not superior to others. In the Colonies I have been stopped in the street by perfect strangers to' ask me what I thought of the country. I was stopped three times in _ that way in Timaru, Strangers, very nice fellows too, seemingly, stopped me and said, ‘ I hope you realise that you are in the garden of the southern hemisphere.’” .r

"What I cannot understand is, why in a country like this, and still more in Australia, where the climate is so different from that of England, English people should have the same ways as they have in England; should have houses built the same way, should eat the same food—a great deal too much meat—should wear the same clothing, and should lead the Mme indoor life instead of an outdoor life with restaurants and cafes. Why, in Queensland they begin breakfast with porridge, a very heating thing, then go on to outlets and eggs and bacon. They have ft lunch of meat, a tremendous dinner of meat, and perhaps meat sandwiches before they go to bed. They do this with the themowetw at 102 in the shade. Why don’t they eatleas moat and more fruit ? I find. John Bull in the Colonies very like John Bull' at Home, but yet he is expanding. He is John Bull with elbow room. No, I cannot tell you what I think of the characteristics of Colonials, because 1 have merely travelled through the towns lecturing, | have seen very little of the inner life of the Colonies. I have found out, however, that there are really three AustrftUa*-*-first Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide! secondly, the small towns, and thirdly, the bush, by which the Australians mean the country districts. I spent a week in the bush, at the station of a relative. Whftt I did would not interest the public. I rode, shot hares and kangaroo rats, and enjoyed myself.” IN MEW ZEALAND. “I have been nearly a fortnight in New Zealand, but have not seen much of its scenery, except the Sounds. I am afrftld I ahull not be able to, for I have to rush through the country lecturing, and after X leave—well, Paris is too far from New Zealand for me to return. I have met groat kindness here, and, so far, like the place. Invercargill, where I first lectured in New Zealand, is a nice little town, well laid out, where everybody seems to have his own house standing in his own garden. I saw the town from the top of the water tower, up which the Mayor took me, and it extended far enough for a town of 20,000 people, but I believe the population is only 8000. Bat what struck me as the most luxuriously built place, for a small town, was Oamacu. It’s a regular little city of palaces. There are banks there—the Bank of New Sonth Wales and the National Bank—fit for Paris, and yet I was told that in these fine buildings there were only a manager and one clerk. I was very unfortunate in the weather in Dunedin. It rained the whole time, hut I had splendid houses, as I suppose you know.” I replied that the much-travelled one had taken care that the public of Christchurch should know that fact. M. Bloofib laughed. “ Mr Smythe,” he said, " knows his business. He’s very careful as to what he puts before the public, and knows exactly what will suit them. He doesn’t engage a man merely on the strength of a name. I was engaged to lecture in America by a man who had never heard me, and the trip was a success; but Me Smythe beard every lecture I had before he engaged me. He took the trouble to travel into the north country to hear one of them. I rather liked it, because it showed me that things were safe in the hands of a man like that.” OLD FRIENDS—A MEMENTO. " It is rather strange," said M. BlouSfc, indicating with his hand two photographs on the mantelpiece, "that I should find in this room the portraits of two of my best friends—one living and one dead—Henry Irving and Henry Ward Beecher. Here ia Mr Beecher’s favourite ring, which he left me at his death,” and the speaker drew from his finger a massive and heavy hoop of gold set with a splendid ruby. , A COMPARISON, A query as to his American tour drew the following—" Unless I told you what I tell in my lecture I could say little except about business, and I do not think the public are interested in that or have a right to know it. An actor, a lecturer, or a man of letters should be discussed on his merits as such. You like a man’s book or lecture, or you don’t. What does it interest the public to know what money he has made, and whether be invested it in Panama Canal shares or in the three and a half per cents. America is, however, the country for lectures, but then it has a population of sixty-five millions. In proportion to population, Australia is by far the best country in the world for lectures. I don’t believe there is a town of the same size anywhere else in the world where I could do what I did in Sydney and Melbourne. I lectured for twenty-two nights in Sydney and twentyfive in Melbourne. Then take Dunedin, I lectured there for six nights to crowded houses. What other country is there in the world where I could have done that in a town of the same population P "In America the financial part of the business is not done as it is here. There they form large Societies, which they call lyceums, or lecture courses, supported by fifteen hundred or two thousand members, who subscribe, say, a pound a year each, That makes the revenue of the Society very big, and they can afford to give very big foes. Sometimes a Society ia got up by one man, who will call it by his name.” max o’bsll’s " PAD.” “No, I have no special subject I card to give you my " views ” upon. I have a little tad, though, which is in my lectures to try to laugh away prejudices. I hold that if you want to make people abandon their prejudices, you must get them to laugh at them with you; and when you consider that soon I shall probably have addressed not far from a million people, and that the criticisms of these lectures must have been read by several millions, I believe that I have done some good. The best way to teach people to rise above prejudices is to show them that they arc neither better nor worse than others; but only different. I am one of these who think that the people of one nation are as good as those of another, if one only knew it. A Chinaman is as good, in some ways, as an Englishman or a Frenchman. The European considers himself fat superior to the Chinaman, but then the Chinaman thinks himself far superior to the European. At the same time I do not believe in the admixture of distinct races. “When I give one of my chats I generally succeed in keeping the people interested for an hour and a half each night. They laugh, but when they go home they think over the matter and say, ‘ Well, after all, I believe that man was right. 1 ”’ The smile and gesture which accompanied this declaration were more eloquent than words. IMPRESSIONS, NOT OPINIONS. “ There, now,” said Max O’Eell, by way of conclusion, I have given you no opinions. I have only formed impressions as to what I have seen out here. Bah! How can a • man form opinions if he is only in a place for & week ? He can receive impressions, though, it he be there for a single hour, and all I can venture to say about Australia are mere impressions.” It lua words were idiomatic English, the vivacity with which they were spoken, when ti.o speaker became animated, was French. Very pleasing was the interview throughout, and I felt some regret when pressure of time brought it to a-olose, (Hid, jwith a handshake and a smile, the man

who is seeking to laugh away prejudices bade me farewell. •'JOHN BULL. OR THE ENGLISH AT HOME.” The desire to “ see ourselves as others see ns ” is not usually credited to the members of the firm of John Bull and Company, who are generally considered to be self-sufficient personages, supremely indifferent as to what other people may think or say regarding them. This notion niust now, however, be relegated to the Umbo of exploded fallacies, as the crowded audience that assembled at the Theatre Royal last night clearly proves that the English apt'’only can endure being told what an intelligent foreigner thinks of them, but can listen to his opinion with the moat eager enjoyment. That the *•’intelligent foreigner” happened to beM. Paul Blouet, better known by his nom da plum of Max O’Eell, of course largely accounted for the‘desire to hear the discourse on " John Ball,” as well as for the pleasure derived from the lecture. His fame as an anthor-i-as 'a shrewd observer and, kindly;, but effective critic o£ English foibles and : idiosyncrasies—hadpreceded him, and had awakened high anticipations of a treat of no ordinary kind. We should think that the lecture of last evening will have fully realised the moat extravagant anticipations, and will have whetted the appetite of the public for more of those exquisitely enjoyable talks. The clever Frenchman makes no pretensions to oratory, any more than did, say, Mr George Augustus Sala, when on his lecturing- tour; but the quaintness of hia humour, the acuteness of his powers of observation, the piquancy of his satire, and the telling nature of his illustrative anecdotes, all combined to >make his lactnre more than ordinarily fresh, instructive and entertaining. But for his unmistakable French appearance and accent, :ona would incline to class Max O’Bell as an American humorist of the first water, and the not disagreeable nasal drawl in which he imperturbably delivers his funniest remarks tends to support this idea. In his nature, however, he is intensely French, and tnis- adds to his humour a quality of candid cynicism that makes'him indifferent whether you laugh with him or at him, Laugh you must—sometimes at a gesture, a shrug of the shoulders,- or a brilliant flash of silence telling than words. The unanswered question of where a certain American gentleman spent his Sunday in Paris was most-suggestively provocative of mirth.In‘the .way of smart epigram nothing could, well surpass the description of John Bull as,“a curious mixture of the lion, the mule and. the octopus.” The English craze for annexing territory, and the grand moral purpose underlying that- craze was most happily hit off. John Bull has even annexed the Kingdom of Heaven; but he keeps his mind still closely fixed on the earth, and is in no hurry to enter into possession of the celestial territory. The reason why the sun never sets on England’s dominion, “ because the sun can’t trust the rascals,” may be quoted as au example of the excellent fooling, pure and simple, in which the lecturer sometimes indulges. His interpolation when, having ocession to refer to the strip of sea that divides England from France, he said, *' Why the English Channel ? Half of it belongs to France,” formed one of his happy sallies at the English annexation craze, and at the same time asserted his own patriotic sentiments. Perhaps the moat instructive portions of the lecture were those wherein comparisons were drawn between English and French polisocial life and habits cf thought. The practical bent of the Englishman was set against the sentimental tendency of the > Frenchman, and each nation was in turn eulogised, satirised and laughed at, without any sign of bias or bitterness. To the observant Frenchman, English politics are mere humbug and palaver ; ‘‘Liberals and Conservatives want the same thing, but they don’t want it at the same time.” French political divisions, on the other hand, have their root in the very form of government, and they lead to bitterness, enmity and duelling between party men, as contrasted with the good feelings and private friendships that prevail among rival politicians in England. Finally, the lecturer did ample justice to England as the' home of rational freedom, combining the. extremes of French Royalism aud Republicanism, and proving that a monarchical form of government is not incompatible with the fullest liberty. The lecture could beat be described as a series of coruscation*—Sense and nonsense, humour and satire, caustic epigram and courtly compliment .succeeding each other in rapid sequence, and keeping the audience bubbling with merriment that very often developed into hearty laughter, and occasionally gave place to hearty applause. The lecture was a treat as unique as it is indescribable. If those who have read “John Bull and Hia Island” can imagine its witty descriptions and humorous anecdotes reproduced with the added chwma of accent, expression and eloquent gesture, they will have a faint conception of what it is to enjoy an evening with Max O’Bell. The remaining four lectures of the course are sure to be looked forward to with bright anticipations. The lecture fptthis evening, on “Jonathan and Yankeedom,” is to include personal reminiscences ot Mark Twain, and it should be more than usually interesting to hear of the meeting of two such humorists as the lecturer and the famous American.