A PLEA FOR THE PROPHET

Northern Advocate, 8 January 1938, Page 9

A PLEA FOR THE PROPHET

By The Private D.

The Inside Story

\TOW that the New Year lias emerg-

eel from its swaddling clothes and is busy kicking off its blankets, with temperatures floating about the nine-

ties, it is timely to review the numerous prophecies which have cast their shadows, before. In doing this we are all apt to be harsh upon the prophet, therefore, the “Private D" enters the plea—let us consider the prophet. In making this request, it is not desired merely to contemplate him, to study his bewhiskered chin or analyse him physically. What we want is tenderhearted consideration of his feelings.

Marie Corelli, we have always

been given to understand that the way of the transgressor is hard. Perhaps it is. but still it is always possible, under favourable circumstances,

for the wrong-doer to escape to some extent, if not completely, the results of his transgression. He is usually, if not a flighty bird, at least a bird of passage, who is here today and, under the aforementioned favourable circumstances, gone tomorrow.

>TO T' so the prognostic. Having aban-

doned his old time habit of living the life of a recluse in caves and camclskin tents, he is now-a-days most often to be found in bar parlours, butchers’ shops and driving bakers' carts—-to wit, he is a homely fellow.

most others of the species, he

is usually encumbered with a wife and family, ills and bills, and his chances of escape from the obligations by which he is entrammelled on all sides, are slight. Perhaps his most besetting misfortune is that his prophecies are mostly incorrect. Unlike the tea cup reader, who, to be a success, has merely first to dodge the police, and then to forecast ocean travel, tons of money and tall dashing heroes, the sincere prophet lias to go much deeper, weighing things economic, political and international, not to mention depressions climatic and financial. When times are good, he must naturally forecast evil; when times arc bad, the reverse. The more fantastic his prophecy, the more incredible it may seem, then the more chance there is of his forecasts creating attention.

JN this connection, we might mention the case of the oldest resident, who called the other day to broadcast a drought warning. He quoted croaking frogs and soft calling wekas to prove that he was right in prognosticating the most severe spell Northland had ever known. The impression created was a very deep one—and it actually lasted until that eyening, when rain fell in great abundance vo wash away any chance he bad of being regarded otherwise than as a prophet in his own country.

QF course, again there is the radio meteorologist, who ever since he missed spotting a deluge in Northland some three years ago, tells us blandly every week to expect “heavy rains and floods in North Auckland. We have become quite used to his bedtime story, and are quite amused to see visitors from foreign folds, not

so accustomed to the “Wolf! Wolf!" version, scuttling for shelter in the middle of their holidays. Yes, the weather has been the stumbling blockif not the execution block of many a man who has sought to broadcast hits views. S: * * m a section of humanity is so consistently wrong as the prophet class, the public is inclined to look upon them with suspicion. Most prophets are sensitive men, and to the sensitive nothing is more discouraging than doubt. Therefore, it behoves us, as residents of a Socialistic country (sic), to do our best to see them through. Spare his feelings. Don’t guffaw at his peeps into the future. Even if the immediate future does not bring him vindication, give him time; All things come to those who wait. And, reverting to the tea cup reader, lie, like the prophet cf more sombre hue, cannot place a time limit on the secret workings of the dregs.

TN this respect we have it on record that time is the essence of the contract, the very gory essence. No lesser authority than Sabatini tells us that in mediaeval times couriers had been known to appear in distant capitals to announce the demise of a prince some days before the culmination of the event. Whether or not this anticipation was due to lack of co-operation on the part of the principal or over-enthusiasm on the part of the couriers, we cannot say. However, it was generally only a matter of waiting a few days, by which time the arrangements “back home” would have gone forward more or less according to schedule, and a new and more acceptable monarch mounted the throne. Now, had the burghers of the distant capitals not shown toleration to the messengers there would have arisen a very serious risk of their feelings and susceptibilities, tofeether -with their necks, being seriously damaged. But what’s a day or two?.ln the scheme of things, a thousand ages is but an evening gone. So give us time.

AT this season of the year spots are

the prevailing fashion, with bowls also popular. Most of us are too much of the cocktail to abide by New Year resolves. They are as - easy to break as to make, and even easy-goers who on joy making a break, hesitate to break a make. This deplorable undoing of what has been decided must be done, or doing of what must be undone, is the insidious process •of white-anting the moral code, a very serious thing. It is just this .that causes men to drink too much or. women to talk too much. All men- do not drink too much or women talk too much—though, one must add, that most women can get more out of a few words than men can get out of a few bottles.

* * # $ ANYWAY, the world is rushing along mucli too fast for any fixed policy; all resolves are shattered in a split second, almost before they have taken root. Much the same as pedestrians are shattered, though I must pause here to congratulate motorists on their clean record this holiday season. I hope they will continue thus, otherwise it is possible that I will become the next unwilling victim, and I have no desire to die hanging on a motor car or on the gallows.