CALAMO CURRENTE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXI, Issue 6996, 19 April 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

CALAMO CURRENTE.

The Queen's new book, " More Leaves from my Journal 'in the Highlands," has had a" rapid and large sale, as was to be expected, 15,000 copies having been sold in the first week. The book, as its title shows, is not a publication of the Queen's private journal, but only of " leaves" from it. It contains nothing of political interest. We should all have liked to know what the Queen thought about the civil wax in America, and those between Prussia and Austria, France and Germany, and Russia and Turkey, as well as' what she has .thought of her past, and now thinks of her present, advisers; but her sentiments on all these subjects are, wisely, not disclosed. The chief interest of the book will be found in the evidence it affords that, although surrounded by all the pomp and circumstance of sovereignty, and living in an atmosphere of formalities and ceremony, the Queen is still a woman of simple mind, homely and strong feelings, and a kind heart. The great fault of the book is its wearisome repetition of the sayings and doings of 'good Brown.' It was the peculiar fortune of this man to gain the favour of his sovereign, and the hearty dislike everybody else who ever came in contact with him. H9 has now gone where the good niggers go, but we have not heard of any single human being, except tbe Queen, expressing any regret for his departure.

To the class of wits who delight in making fun, as they think, of royalty, the book will Sspply plenty of material for the exercise or C&eir genius. Brown's chapped legs, the result of wearing a wet kilt, and the Queen's consequent distress ; the awful fate of a certain Miss Mac Gibbon, who patted the Princess Louise on the shoulder, and ' died soon after'; the inconsiderate way in which Sir Thomas Biddulph also died, apparently without ever consulting Brown about it; the reckless bravery of the Duke of Connaught at Tel-el-Kebir, now for the first time made a matter of history J these, and some other things of the same sort, will give easy opportunity for a laugh, but they will not detract from the general usefulness of the book, in the eyes of those, at any rate, who care about literature of this sort.

Politicians are preparing for the fray, and already the noise of coming battle, to use a poetical figure, hurtles in the air. Last ■week Major Atkinson and Mr. Montgomery addressed their constituents. Mr. Whi taker also spoke at Kihikihi, but the handful of voterß who listened to him could hardly be called a constituency. Mr. JEtolleaton is to speak at Christchurch this afternoon; Mr. Conolly will do the same on Tuesday or Wednesday next, at Picton; Major Atkinson ha 3 gone South to Dunedin, to make his second speech ; and Sir George Grey will follow with his promised address to the working men of Christchurch. It requires no great power of foresight to see that there will bp excitement and trouble in the coming session ; but it is too soon yet to attempt to form an estimate of the relative strength of the two parties in the House.

The most important parts of the Premier's able speech at Hawera were those in which he spoke of the possibility of the Govern- I ment resuming their pre-emptive rights over native land ; and the probability that some alteration would have to be made in working of the Education Act. His remarks about the nature and rights of freehold tenure were more important as signs of the direction in which he would, under certain conditions, be prepared to move, than of any scheme which the Premier or his colleagues have already formulated or are prepared to advocate. That the question of the tenure of land will before long be the burning question in this colony, there is very good reason to believe. The people by whom the value of land is increased are neither the owners nor the tenants of land, and as this truth is - now beginning to be understood, it is better that it should. be dealt with by statesmen for the good of the country, than by demagogues, for their own aggrandisement. Our educational system, by common consent, needs reform. This reform will, sooner or later, liave to be carried out in two directions. The management of the thing must be taken out oE the hands of the fussy mediocrities and selfseeking politicians to whom it is at present while the expenaiveness of the system will have to be lessened by making people pay for the education of their children. The flimsy argument that this would create a distinction between rich and poor is not worth examining. There is nobody is this colony so poor that he cannot well afford to spend threepence or sixpence a •week on the education of his children.

Mr. Montgomery was pleased to describe Major Atkinson's speech 38 a ' dreary waste of words.' For ourselves, we must say that the Bpeech of the late military, was infinitely less dreary than that of the late naval officer. Mr. Montgomery, it seems, is ' beginning to be alive' to the fact that Canterbury and Ofcago are ' milch cows ' drained dry annually for the benefit o£ some places in the North Island. It is good news to hear that the member for Akaroa i 8 ' beginning to _be alive' to the meaning of any political question, and if hoiwould only go on and thoroughly wake up to life, we should be quite willing to forget his previous, though somewhat protracted, torpor. The comparison of bis constituents to so many milch cows is not ■very flattering to the people of the South, tut the aptness of the simile partly atones for *' '< —?t of elegance. That some places in 7i ' :th Island, have been enriched by mo* . J ' ilked' from Canterbury and Otago wiii;.■•ews to most cr s .and it would be interesting to he. • t» ; am' of these fortunate places. But talk ' Wi o rt is the hobby horse, or, should - ler now say, the "milch cow?' ' Montgomery always rides. The £ uon opinion, however, is that a'report- a the public moneys spent on the several provinces of Otago, janterbnry, and Auckland, would tell an entirely different tale, and it is a pity that jio such a report is to be Lad.

Mr Montgomery's speech might be summarised thus (1). The colony is already too dteply indebted, therefore no more money-must be borrowed; 'our safety can only be assured by ceasing to borrow.' The meaning of this is that the Government ought not be allowed to borrow the money for the construction of the North Island trunk railway; for the loan' for that purpose is the only loan that is at present in contemplation. (2.) A railway system, by which Canterbury grain is not carried free of charge is a bad system; therefore the management of railways should be vested in a non-politi-cal Board. Eut where are the men in this colony,capable; o! managing the railways,who have no political or provincial bias ? Perha g, the proposal only means that the managemenc of r»ilways should be vested in the hands of Mr. Montgomery and his friends. At any rats there is nothing in their public conduct in the past, so far as is known, to disqualify them from sitting at a non-political Board. (3.) A Government which will notependpublic money on the Canterbury province is, ipso facto, a corrupt Government. The existing Government declines to spend its money in this way; therefore Major Atkinson oueht at once to be replaced by no, not Mr. Montgomery, while Sir George Grey is alive. This is all there was in the speech—only • cauld kail het again.'

Colonists—who were not born, but have become,- colonists —often' notice that we observe very'few of the old and curious customs with which they were familiar at home. "We have no. Twelfth Night ceremonies ; no Ploughstots, with their antics ; no Oyster-ahell day, with its ' grottoes' and farthing candles ; no ' Carling ' Sunday; no May-pole and May Queen ; no bobbing for apples on ,AU Hallow E'en; no ' frumety night' at Christmas; no nothing in fact. This poverty of old customs may, perhaps, be inevitable ; but it is to be regretted, if only for the sake of the children, to,whom these, are. their 'Saints' Days' in the year. It was sad to see Easter come and go and children not the least excited, as they would have been in the old country, about their .dyed 'pace' eggs, and-the chances of -a' fine day for 1 Roll Egg Monday.*"' Perhaps,;-* however, - very young children are; better without their eggs, at any rate on a public holiday. The intelligent larrikin would make short work of anything of the-sort that happened to come in his way, ' ■ \ ■

' The Easter customs of 'lifting' and ' shoetaking,' in which on Ji'aster'Monday men women and take off their shies, and

on the following day the women do the same thing to the men, are well enough in the rural districts of England, where the people are a" simple and superstitious folk, and have been accustomed from their youth to such frolics, bat they are hardly suited to a town population, among whom fun of this sort is apt to degenerate into buffoonery and violence. The origin of these, as of so many similar customs, is buried in the obscurity of tbe past, and their symbolical • meaning Is now almost entirely forgotten. To create them where they do not already exist would be impossible ; like political constitutions, thoy are not made, they grow.

A well-known antiquarian in Auckland says that the ' pace' egg 'is properly the pasche, pasque, or paschal egg, and that the custom of rolling theso eggs on Easter Monday is meant to symbolise the rolling away the atone from the tomb of Christ. The red dye on these eggs is for the blood of Christ. The meaning of the eggs themselves, as well as the reason of using the gorse flower to dye them with, are questions which our antiquarian friend confesses he cannot answer,

It used to be a common opinion, and in some places the opinion still exists, that the sun dances on Easter day. Whether tbesun really does dance or not, we shall not attempt to decide, but it is very easy to understand how the belief arose. In an age in which Lent was a period of fasting and mortification of the flesh and of making life more than usually sombre, the arrival of Easter must have been an occasion of unfeigned delight, and the rustic mind in its exuberance of joy may well have thought the sun danced too: The reason why it no longer seems to dance for us may be that many of ns no longer^make any distinction batwaen one season and another. We may have gained something by the change, but it is just possible that something may have been lost also bv it.

The proposal that a petition should be got up, praying the Governor to remit the floggings due to the interesting youth Goodward, has met with no response. The ' cat,' wielded by experienced and skilful hands, is no doubt a terrible weapon, and one that should not be used often, but there are some criminals on whom no other form of punishment takes any effect. It has been proved over and over again that for crimes of brutality and violence the cat is the easiest, and most effective remedy. It appeals at once and with certainty, and in a manner about which there is no mistake, to the tender feelings of the most hardened criminals. Apart, then, from the indirect but, grave mischief which must be caused by interfering with a judicial sentence once pronounced, it may be urged that, for crimes of this sort, imprisonment without flogging is no punishment at all, or, at any rate, not a punishment either adequate to the offence, or likely to deter and intimidate others.

The suggestion that a committee of ladies shonld be formed to obtain signatures to the petition is very amusing. It is true, though perhaps strange, that for offenders of this kind women often have far more sympathy than men ; but at the same time it seems a a little too much to expect any decent woman to petition against the punishment of a man convicted of a cold-blooded, deliberate, and brutal rape.

We have all heard of the remark of Sir George Cornewall Lewis, that life would be tolerable if it were not for its amusements. Sir George Lewis was not one of those bilious and dyspeptic men who need nothing more to make them miserable than the sight of other people enjoying themselves. When he made the observation he was probably more anxious to make an epigram than to describe the truth of things. At the same time there may be something in the conditions of English life and its amusements to justify the remark. For the amusements of English life would not amuse everybody. They are like olives and dry wines J the taste for them has to be cultivated before they can be enjoyed. For instance, the untutored mind cannot be expected to find much diversion in 'stand-up* parties, or ceremonious dinners, or any of those social distractions in which the women are all dressed within an inch of their lives, and the men have achieved that last effort of culture in which they take no further interest in anything human or divine. From the society of men and women who think they have tried every form of frivolity, and that life has nothing new to offer, no pleasure, except that of laughter, is to be derived. And so, also, in the lower strata of society, the pleasure of getting blazing drunk, and then kicking your wife's brains out, though common enough, and apparently i congenial to the natural man, is not that which, recommends itself 'to everybody's tastes. In the amusements of both high and low life, then, it must be admitted that there is much that does not amuse.

Colonial amassment, however, is quite another thing. With us it is the public holidays that make life worth living. On these days, when it is fine, as .it was on Monday, the horny-handed tons of soil are to be seen by field and flood, by dale and down, taking their pleasures, each in the way that his soul most desires. The unmarried and irresponsible for the most part must see the races, and these go by various roads to the same destination, where, in return forjthe money they spend, they learn some useful lessons. The drawback to thi.3 form of amusement is the risk of backing the wrong horse, and, as all cannot win, some must lose. Others, again, make for the .Domain, and there seek the bubble reputation in foot race and bicycle race, and the like. And there, too, ore sequestered nooks .and -hady bowers, where the conqucrors and tli • conquered strive again for other lauids in that contest in which the race w nc.fc always to the swift, while love the unco™ keeps watch, and no one of mortal mw »n cscapo. Here, too, is to be- seer *b> „.:ious creature, the domesticated hu' ). --, doing double duty, wheeling the perambulator, with a Email wife and a larga family at his heels. He. chooses the DomaiD, because of all places it is the most central and the easiest to reach. With him, however, pleasure might, perhaps, be better described as a modification of pain. In most cases, however, the married seek their pleasure further a-field. And it is these | who seem to get most enjoyment out of their ] holiday. At early morning the. hamper is packed up, corkscrew and all, the ohildren dressed out in their brightest and best, thehouse securely locked np, and a start'made while the day is yet young. They soon join the crowd that is streaming to the wharf, where again they part company, and embark in different boats; some make for Birkenhead or St. Heliers, and there combine business and pleasure in looking about for a spot on which they would like, some day or other, to build them a house and settle down for good ; others take the steamer to the K.awau and pay their respects to the man whom they regard as the tribune of the people, and examine once more his treasures and curiosities of literature and art. Others again, and these are nfit the least wise, go no further than the North Shore—that Brighton of Auckland, where the air is always fresh and pure. There the good man can sit and smoke the happy hours away, and watch his happy children plodging on the shore; and when that is done, they will all climb to the signal station, and the young will look upon the * innumerable laughter' of the sea, which seems, indeed, as if it could never be treacherous and deceive, with its busy steamers, andtbe swarm of boats with butterfly wings flitting here and .there; while to the older also 'counsel is the'daughter of Ocean,'and as they sit, they think of the place as it was when they first saw it, years ago; and wonder what it will be like a hundred years hence; and so . the mind is tempted to paint imaginary pictures of docks and wharves and ocean steamers, and, on land, halls of commerce arid palaces of learning and of the arts, till Auckland becomes both the Corinth and the. Carthage of the South. . . . It is but an idle dream,

in which, as in other dreams, the critical faculty is for a time suspended. But the truth is revealed sometimes in a vision, and the imagination plays a leading part in life. And it is by dreams of this kind that the men who are the makers and builders of cities are encouraged and cheered on. . . Nature, however, has other wants, and the children are ready for tea, and when that is over it is time to think about going home. Stragglers roll up from all quarters,, and the return journey is made, and as we smol£e our ■■evening'pipe, not without whisky, we all ! thank God and the Government for a public j holiday and a fine day. Index.