ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1315, 13 May 1897, Page 23

ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

Satire’s my weapon, but I’m tbo disbreet To run amuck and tilt at all I meet. Pope.

BY SCRUTATOR.

The Due d’Aumale, who died last week, as an indirect result of the terrible catastrophe at the Paris bazaar, had a lot of “real grit” in his character. "Whatever else he inherited from poor old Louis Philippe, the bourgeois king, the Citizen King, he had none of the vacillation, the weakness, the -fatuous inability to look further than his own nose, which characterised the man of whom he was the fourth son. In early life, before the crash came, in ’4B, when thrones were tumbled over like ninepins, and half the crowned heads of Europe were either “fired out,” or in danger of being “ fired out ” by the newly awakened democracy, the duke did good service in Algeria. He it was who instituted and carried out the campaign which resulted in the “ Grand Old Man” Arab, Ab-Del-Kader, being vanquished by the French, and when, many years afterwards the Orleanist princes were allowed to return to France —in 1871, if I remember rightly, he set to-work like a Trojan to reoi'gonise the army of his native country. The duke, by the way, was the president of the court martial which condemned the traitor Bazaine to perpetual imprisonment in a fortress, from whence Bazaine escaped, after a while, to Spain.

The Duke had to leave France again when at the instance of that wretched charlatan, but for a time, successful schemer'and intriguer, the so-called brciv' •general, Boulanger, an edict of expulsion was passed by the National Assembly against the Orleanist Princes. But before he left for England, which had given shelter to his father and to himself, the Duke did what was under the circumstances a very generous thing, He bequeathed his Chantilly chateau and all its art treasures to the French nation, to the nation which through its representatives in in. Parliament was treating him so meanly. The name of Chantilly is familiar to all who know Paris. There is the beautiful forest of Chantilly, the famous racecourse of Chantilly—it is the Newmarket of France —and above all there is the magnificent chateau, built by the Due D’Aumale on the site of the ancient seat of Condos, the Conddis from whom he himself sprung, and this same chateau contains the finest private art collection in Europe. There aro artistic treasures in the famous chateau that even the Louvre, Lux* embourg and the British National Gallery cannot show the equals of, and all these, worth over three millions sterling, so it is computed, were bequeathed to. the French nation at a time when the same French nation officially told its owner, its own son, to be an exile for life. Happily however, the Bonlanger boom burst and the French nation, as is its wont, after its periodical outbursts of imbecility, returned to average sanity. The edict of expulsion was repeated, the Orleans princes went back to France, and the Due D’Aumale has lived to see himself fully recognised, even by the most ardent “ Reds ’ of the “ Extreme Left,” as an unselfish, truly patriotic citizen of the Third Republic. There was nothing of the Chauvinisto about the late Duke. For England, which gave him a home when he and his family were under a cloud, he had never anything save goodwill. It would be well indeed were his nephew, Prince Henri d’Orleans, governed by the same spirit. Unfortunately, this young gentleman has a largo amount of the poseur strain in his composition, and his present attitude is one of undisguised Anglophobia.

The Very Rev Dean Fitchett is deservedly respected in Dunedin for liis learning and his religious zeal. At the same time, X am rather surprised to notice that certain remarks which fell from him at a recent meeting of the University Debating Society on the subject of “ Patriotism ” have not called forth some very sovere criticism from his fellow citizens. According to the Otago Daily Times , the Dean “ made a stirring appeal to his audience to cultivate a patriotic feeling, and pointed out that there was a justification for such a feeling in the knowledge that they were citizens of the greatest Empire the world had ever seen.” So far so good, but proceeding with his speech, the Dean went on to cast a most unworthy, a most stupid, a most unjustifiable slur upon what I would describe as New Zealand or 9Qlonial national patriotism. “ He ad-

niitted ” —I again quote the Otago Dally Times—“ that there was not much in New Zealand to furnish them with the material for national pride, and the Dean confessed his inability to work up much enthusiasm over a catalogue in which the principal lots were Maori carving, the Maori war, the early settlers and their adventures and misadventures, the early days of the gold diggings and the romance of colonial banking.”

Unless Dean Fitchett has been wofully misreported—and that is not at all likely with the Otago Daily Times —he has committed himself to a' singularly stupid statement which will by no means increase his reputation as a public man, and, presumably, a patriotic colonist. He sneers at the Maori war, and yet, I would ask, where in the history of young nations was there ever a record of more gallant deeds, more nobly, more truly patriotic deeds than those done in that war —on both sides ? He, good soul, safe in the possession of a snug home and a snug living in the far South, safe away from-.the hundred perils and horrors of sanguinary conflicts, in which men on both sides bled gallantly for their race, conflicts in which were engaged settlers of no special military training, settlers who fought for their homes and their wives and children ; he, I say, “ confesses his inability to work up much enthusiasm ” over the Maori war. Perhaps he cannot. There are some men in whom all true spirit of patriotism, all feeling cf honour to the brave and gallant, all sympathy with great deeds, is impossible. It is not for such smallminded creatures to blare and blether about patriotism and to cast a slur upon men a hundred times more generoushearted than himself—men who fought and bled for their adopted country.

He cannot, this good Dean Fitchett, work up much enthusiasm over the early settlers and their adventures and his adventures.” Perhaps not. Has he ever toiled long and weary years in breaking down the forest, has he lived in the colony with the “ earlier settlers ” at whom he sneered, the men who fought the good fight of civilization against savagery, has he forded rivers in flood, have he and his been in peril of their lives from a savage foe, has he struggled hard for years to build up a home in the bush ?—has he ?—but why go any further—the public man, the minister of the gospel, who gets upon a platform and sneers at “the earlier settlers and their adventures and misadventures,” is a man to pity and despise, not a man whose arguments are to be taken too seriously. Dean Fitchett may, I repeat, be a very learned man, a very cultured man, a good Christian, but he has proved by his deliverance before the Dunedin undergraduates his utter miscomprehension of what is true colonial patriotism and pride in the heroic deeds of the “ earlier settlers,” whether in fighting the natives, or in conquering the forest, or in doing pioneer work on the goldfields. It is not for such a man to prate about patriotism. Ho does not understand the true meaning of the word.

Lieutenant Eloff, Kruger’s young relative who made himself notorious the other day by an insulting reference to Queen Victoria at a banquet, was on very friendly terms with “Dr Jim.” He was the officer who, when the raidors were on their way to Krugersdorp, met some of Jameson’s men and asked them where they were going. He was arrested by the officer in charge, and his horse was taken away from him. Of course he protested, but Colonel Grey said, “ You can protest as much as you like; these are my orders.” When “Dr Jim,” however, 'came up he immediately released the lieutenant. I read in an English paper .just to hand that Eloff went to England wtth the raider prisoners and made himself exceedingly popular during his stay in London. This being so, his conduct at the banquet is all the more inexplicable. Possibly he had drunk not wisely but too well. The Boers are great “ soakers ” at all official functions when there is nothing to pay, for they “ have a frugal mind.”

When the verdict on Jameson and his officers, so I road, resulted in imprisonment, Lieut. Eloff was greatly concerned. “ I thought they would bo fined, like the rest,” he said, and he promised on his return to the Transvaal to do what he could to obtain a mitigation. “ I am personally very sorry Dr Jameson has to go to prison. I knew him, and he was always good to me.” He had, however, a less

favourable opinion of Mr Rhodes. “So long, he said, “ as Mr Rhodes remained in power in South Africa no Boer considered himself safe from disturbance. Rightly or wrongly, all thought he was at the bottom of everything there.”

Talking about Eloff reminds me that the Boers appear to be backing down a little. The repeal of the objectionable Aliens Immigration Act, which, it is well known, was specially aimed at Englishmen —for German and Dutchmen the officials conveniently found a host of loopholes —may or may not be the commencement of a new era of justice towards the hated Britisher, but it is certainly something gained, and is no doubt an outcome of Mr Chamberlain’s firmness.

But if the Boer hates the Briton it must be admitted that some of the AngloAfrican journals published in London, and “ run,” most of them, I expect, with assistance from the Chartered Company as a specially subsidised “ reptile press,” use the most insulting language towards “ Oom Paul.” By .the last mail I received a copy of a weekly London paper called The Empire and South African Empire. A [prominent feature of its literary contents is a column or series of columns headed “ Things in General and People in Particular,” written by the editor, one Stuart Cumberland, a gentleman at one time much in evidence as a “ thought reader. Mr Cumberland evidently has no love for “ Oom Paul,” judging by such expressions as the following:—

“ At heart as base and with methods as oppressive as any one of the darkskinned monarchs we, in the various parts of the Empire, have hastened to suppress. “As oppressive and as corrupt as the Grand Turk. ‘ The biggest liar in all South Africa.’ “ Paul Kruger has been personally responsible for all the recent retrograde legislation in the Transvaal, a corrupt, blasphemous old man with a cunning that a wolverine might envy, and a capacity for lying that even Ananias at

his best could never have equalled.” The above are only a few samples of the j Empire editor’s general style of comment upon and reference to the Transvaal president’s actions. They serve to show that the Boers have not all the abuse and blackguardism on their side. And yet Mr Cumberland waxes indignant because he has been informed that the Tranvaal government intended to forbid the sale of his paper in their country.

The German Emperor is, I suppose, the best-hated man —by the Greeks especially —in Europe just now. Had it not been for his holding aloof—at least such is my humble reading of the European problem the Powers would have interfered earlier in Crete, and poor little Greece would not have been tempted—and goaded—into the rash enterprise out of which she seems to be coming so badly. In this week’s Mail there is a fine article on Greece and the Greeks by Mrs Crawford, the Paris correspondent of Labby’s paper, Truth. This article, written months ago, contains what, in the light of events that have taken place, a really remarkable forecast as to the conduct of the Greek Royal Family, and, inter alia, gives a very good idea of the mischievous and malicious meddling of the “ Young Man in a Hurry.” I warmly commend the article in question to the attention of my readers.

Apropos to the very natural detestation in which the Greeks hold the Kaiser, a little incident is recorded by a Hamburg paper which shows how a Greek merchant of patriotic tendenceis “got back” on a German house with which ho did business. A certain Hamburg firm, so it appears, sent 100 sacks of rice to a Greek firm, D. E. Hadjiconstantio et freres , of Syra, who promptly sent the following letter, in French—the commercial language of the Levant—to the shippers : I am in receipt of your invoice of 100 sacks of rice. You can send the rice to your Marines at Canea, who showed such great heroism in bombarding the Christians with melinite. Certainly your goods will make them still stronger. Great impudence of a European Power 1 The Hamburg paper, of course, waxes highly indignant over the epistle, and says : “ He who wishes to escape loss must send nothing to Greece I It is just ‘robber blood.’” Personally, however, I cannot help rejoicing that the German firm were put to some inconvenience, and, I presume, loss, for Germany to-day—through her foreign policy—is showing herself as the most bumptious and selfish Power in Europe, and one can hardly blame an exasperated Greek merchant for entering upon a

practical “ policy of reprisals.lf every nation treated shabbily by the great little Kaiser at Berlin would only enter upon a policy of deliberately boycotting anything and everything that is “ made in Germany, the merchants and manufacturers of the “ Yatei-land ” would speedily make the “ Young Man in a Hurry ” change his policy. Personally, the Germans are very fine fellows, but as a Power, Germany is to-day, owing to the policy of her hotheaded, blustering monarch, about the best-hated nation in the world.

Talking about the Kaiser, his bombastic grandiloquence never found more striking exemplification than in a speech recently delivered by him at a state celebration of the birthday of his grandfather, the first William of Germany. This is how the Kaiser broke forth : —■

I have just come from the ancient wilds of the Mark of Brandenburg, where the old mark pines and oaks rustled around me. I have come to the living counterpart of these, to the men of the Mark, and I am glad to be able once more to spend a few hours among you, for to be in the company of the sons of the Mark is always for me like a draught that renews my vigour. What the rustling of the oaks and pines of the Mark has been telling me has just been well expressed by the President. With eminent justice, my dear Aehenbach, you made special mention of my grandfather of exalted and blessed memory. Our festival to-day, and, indeed, the times as a whole, are bathed in the crescent roseate hues of the morn that is about to break, the centenary of the birthday of that exalted Monarch. In the way of what Pooh Bah called his “ family pride,” the Kaiser beats the record. All the conceit of a hundred Bourbons combined is as nothing compared with that of the young man who rejoices in the defeat of the Greeks, simply because his own sister married the Duke of Sparta, and because —according to Mrs Crawford’s article, alluded to above—he was snubbed when ho went to Athens. A nice sort of creature this to hold the destinies of millions of people in his hands. Some day there will be a revolution in Germany and the working classes and the middle classes and all Germans outside the purely aristocratic and military set who toady to the Emperor will unite as one man and teach his Imperial Blustership a much-needed lesson.

The backblocks editor who started a flaming “ leader ” with the awe-inspiring words “We warn the Czar” must now come second best to the talented scribe who runs the Ovens a>ul Murray Advertiser, a recent issue of which contained the following delightfully naif production : The news of the formal declaration of war between Greece and Turkey was received at Yackandandah with a feeling amounting to a mild sensation. The sympathies of this town and neighbourhood are, it goes without saying, entirely with Greece ; and so strong is the feeling engendered by recent events that it is now proposed to send a message to King George, conveying in terms of warm approbation the intense interest taken by Yackandandah in all that pertains to the war, with the request that these sentiments may be made known to the Grecian army at the earliest opportunity that may present itself. It is also intended to address a strongly-worded letter to the Emperor of Russia, informing him of the suspicion and repugnance which his latest actions have created in this district; and failing this, a letter of remonstrance is to be sent to the Powers.

The historic “ three tailors from Tooley street ” with their memorial headed “ We, the People of England ” are “ not in it,’’ to use a colonial colloqualism, with the good folks of Yackandandah. The Emperor of Russia, when he has received the letter “ informing him of the suspicion and repugnance which his latest actions have created in Yackandandah ” will no doubt wilt away at once and send off a special Imperial messenger by first boat to Australia, to convey to the indignant Yackandandahians the usual Russian “ peaceful assurances,” for ib would be a dreadful affair indeed, wore Yackandandah to “ appeal to the Powers.” The inhabitants of the country districts of Victoria must be singularly lacking in the sense of humour, unless the editor of the Ovens and Murray Advertiser has been hoaxing his contemporaries or “ poking borak ” at his fellow citizens.

Walking along Lambton Quay the other day, I noticed that the Wellington Theosophists have now got a regular meeting-place, so we may presume the Blavatsky-Besant cult is making some headway. Of course, this is a freo country, and a man or woman may believe and preach the greatest balderdash imaginable if he <?r she so pleases; hot

for the life of me I cannot understand how persons, otherwise sane, can possibly swallow the Theosophy nostrum. Mrs Besant, the Chief High Priestess of the Cult, is no doubt a very clever woman — she is certainly a born orator, as those who heard her in Wellington will cheerfully testify—but when she -gets astride of her latest hobby, Theosophy, she is continuaUy talking what ordinary, unenlightened folk like myself cannot but regard as the veriest nonsense. Thus, in New York the other day she declared her mission to the States was to spread the doctrines of- Theosophy. Here is one statement she made : You have heard, have you not, that the soul of Mine. Blavatsky has been transmitted to a young Brahmin ? That is quite true. She told me before she died that her soul would reappear in India, and it has come true. This Brahmin is only nineteen years old, so his occult powers will not be shown for several years to come, but that he possesses these powers is indisputable.

Whether the New Yorkers ever “heard that the soul of Mme. Blavatsky has been transmitted to a young Brahmin” I don’t know, but the alleged fact —Mrs Besant solemnly says “it is quite true,” and therefore it must be so—will, I think, bo news to most Now Zealanders, excepting those favoured “ occult ” ones who onjoy the inestimable privilege of “ astral communication ” with the soul of the late lamented Blavatsky, a fat, vulgar, uneducated old charlatan, whose so-called manifestations have been completely exposed as being most audacious and shameless trickery. Note please, that Mrs Besant says that “ the occult powers of the young Brahmin will not be shown for many years to come, but that ho possesses these powers is indisputable.” If he possesses these powers why doesn’t he show them, and if he doesn’t show them, or has not shown them, how does Mrs Besant know he possesses them ? On the word of the late lamented Blavatsky, conveyed by some mysterious astral force ? Is that it ? What frightful nonsense it all is I And yet there are hundreds, nay thousands, who fully believe it. It’s a funny world this highly educated, highly cultured —highly credulous—world of ours, in this the end of the century.