PASSING NOTES

Otago Daily Times, Issue 14245, 20 June 1908, Page 6

PASSING NOTES

The German Kaiser's latest explosion, like Cardinal Logue's New York interview mid .Mini; Twain's prematurely anjioHnced death, lias been much exaggerated. It simultaneously excited Hie Gctinun press and depressed the German Bowse, but is now unanimously pooh-poohed as ft damp squib that may ho loft to lizzie in (ho open and no harm done. The lizzie has proceeded by well-marked steps and .stages, symmetrical, typical. First, we have the corpus delicti, so to speak,-— the Kaiser's volcanic "Come on, Macduff!"—an uncontrollable outburst whilst inspecting his legions: "They are trying to hem us in, then; they would bring im to bay;—eo be it! The German fights host with his back to the wall. Let them all come!" In Ereles' vein, this, with a vengeance. Who dares this pair of boots displace Must meet Bombastcs lueo to face! But next day palpitating Europe was reassured: The Kaiser's words had no reference to the meeting of the King'and the Czar. First stage of the fizzle, and an ingenuous illustration of the maxim Qui s'excuse s'accusc. Nobcdy had imputed that reference; nobody had hadi time. Second stage: The Kaiser's words had jio relation to German foreign policy. Third: The Kaiser's words were not the words reported, but some other words. Fourth stage (and 'final): The Kaiser had spoken no words at all. It is pleasant to see a domestic apologue, familiar to onv childhood, acted on the grand stage of international politics:—The reason we are unable to return your kettle is that we cannot find it; also we are just using it; tho kettle has a hole in it, anyhow; moreover we never borrowed at. Dropping parable, 'everybody agrees that the Kaiser's words are to be understood in a Pickwickian sense; also that they were never spoken; also that they arc withdrawn. The trouble is that those same words lie so well within the Kaiser's character. One man may steal a horse when, another man may not look over the hedge. The Kaiser is the man who may not look over the hedge. The same explanation, mutatis inutandis ( will explain Cardinal Loguc. That wandering star Mrs Besant being about to twinkle again in our firmament, I feel indebted to a correspondent who sends me some recent information about her. It is probablo you will have something to say on the subject of Mrs Besant's visit to Dunedin; and as you may not have read her address at the City Temple last October, I scud it to you. It appears to mo Micro is hardly a word in it that could not have boon appropriately and effectively said from any pulpit in Christendom. That is conceivable; and conceivably the same estimate might hold of a discourse by Cardinal Logue, or Chief-Rabbi Adlcr, or Mr Campbell, of the New Theology, whom the fitness of things made chairman at Mrs Bcsant'c. lecture. There are certain high and airy generalities which everywhere are common property and in every preacher common form. 'My own tame parson has them in his own tame fashion, and preaches a sermon which for strict propriety and geucral harmlcxmess might adorn any pulpit in Christendom. And I should say that a similar excellence is attainable by Mrs Besant in any lecture from which Mrs Besant ■,is left ont. Without readiug the example iny correspondent sends, I accept his assurances, and, indeed, on the strength of them feel disposed to cry off, reserving an actual perusal for some slumberous Sunday afternoon. Not that Mrs Besant is usually provocative of slumber. Quito otherwise. I remember distinctly her opening lecture in the Princess Theatre years and years ago. For half an hour she discoursed of science, summing up the 'evolutionary scheme of things with' a lucidity that would have done credit to the biology chair in any university. It was an exordium all sweetness and light, sanity, and good sense. . Proceeding, she announced, as a mere sequence, her ability to quit her body, to* leave it lying, to peer at it from without, to walk about as a naked spirit. Possibly in thus last detail I am wrong ;—for propriety's sake let us say that it was in an astral body that she. walked about. Be that as it may, tho eloquent lecturer from this point on discoursed of esoteric Buddhism, which to me, the unenlightened, is moonstruck madness. And that was t'he real Mrs Besant. After all, one would prefer in lecturer or preacher an alternate Jckyll and Hyde to a mountebank consistent and invariable. The New York correspondent of the London Daily Telegraph tells of some remarkable developments in the American evangelical pulpit. A New York Nonconformist, minister, tired of empty pews, has engaged for lite, services a. lady whistler, and "other turns." The lady'whistler is a point in advance; but we already have in New Zealand the Sunday music ,hall, with its system cf "turns." lii'Ncw V.ork ,they illuminate the front of the building with flaming arc lights—copying Leicester square; white-gowned'girl pewopeners conduct you to a, seat; the sermon is illustrated by lantern slides; departing, you receive at the door a picture postcard. The Rev. Dr Minilie, formerly die " Boy Evangelist," is the patentee of these methods, and they represent, he says, an alliance.of '"grit, godliness, and gumption," without which American Christianity can hope for no future. Another example of the "forward school" is ihe Rev. Sydney Goodman of the Church of the Asccneion (Episcopal) in Atlantic City: To secure comfort Mr Goodman will allow men to take off their coats and smoke pipes during the sermon'. It is primarily a service for men, but women nlso may attend if they promise not to wear the "Merry Widow" and cart-wheel hats, which are now very fashionable on this side. -Mr Goodman thinks of himself as raised up to save the Episcopal Church from "dying of dignity." And he is in a fair way to succeed. As long as Mr Goodman is about, the Church will not be aide' to die nf dignity. It will have to die of something else, Here, in natural sequence somehow, may come in a curious autobiographical remark by the Bishop of London, 'Ihe Bishop of London, speaking at a crowded meeting of Church people at Pnrksione, Dorset, remarked that he prepared all his sermons while dressing. During the general process of cleaning and shaving, his brains, he said, seemed to work in an astonishing manner. , If ideas may be generated by shaving, I know half, a dozen clerical beards that ought to'come off at once. I observe that Life, on the authority of the Musical Home Journal, traces ' the music to which we sing the convivial couplets "For he's a jolly good fellow" and "We won't go home till morning'' to the French song " Malbrook s'en va t'en guerre." This is a true bill, and I have myself ere now discoursed on the subject in Passing Notes. Accoiding to the Musical Homo Journal, as I make out, " Malbrook" was improvised, " words and music," in the tent of Marshal de Yillars on the night after Malplaquet, September 11. 't/09, for the purpose apparently of consoling that distinguished French commander under his defeat. As respects the words, which are a feeble satire of ',he victorious Marlborough, this story may be accepted; but, as respects the music, there are reasonable doubts. Malplaquet was a terrific struggle, the French losing 12,000 men, tho victorious other side as many or more. Can we imagine that in the defeated general's tent was born next night so skittish a jig as Malbrook? There is the less excuse for this vain imagination as the tune was already in existence. So, at .least, says Grove's Dictionary. It is not this antiquarian point that interests me, however, but the curious fact of cur dependence on so trivial a melody, and foreign to boo!, whenever we propose, a health at a dinner or a wedding. No other tune is conceivable, nor any other screed of words. "For he's a jolly good fellow," we sin"; or, if if is a wedding, "For they are jolly good follows"—the bride and bridegroom! Who invented this sublime imbecility? And why do we sing it to a French tune used for satirising an English general? Furthermore, since we tare to

helplessly dependent on it, how did our forefathers get on without it? I tliiulc I know. Consider the noble strain: Here's « health to the King, and a lasting peace,— winding up, after other pious wishes, in chonis by the whole strength of the company : And he that shall his health deny, Down among tho dead men let him lie! On some fitting occasion grant me to hear it! Of its kind nothing could be finer. Whilst touching of matters musical let me put in a wor* 1 for a British melody not appreciated according to its merit, i mean " God save the King." Mr Kcir Hardie. when disparaging tlie National Anthem _as "a ghastly bit of doggerel," levels his spite at the words. For him and for his like the music means nothing at all. I say this on competent authority; The man that hath no music in himself Nor is not moved by concord of sweet sounds Is fit ior treasons, stratagems, and spoils, As the third line of this quotation gives exactly what Mr Keir Hardie is fit for I reason back to his necessary inclusion under the first line. He will be a man that hath no music in himself. However, . this is a digression. • There does indeed exist a rabble rout that would trample under foot all our national insignia, blaspheming the Flag itself as a "symbol of slavery" and "otackoned by a thousand crimes" ; but for the moment let us forget them. _ I leave these recreants to welter in their ignominy. Quite another sort of people are indifferent to the Natrona! Antnenrtune, people who sing the words with tears in their eyes. They suppose the tune ■ official, and therefore commonplace, of about the same intrinsic merit [ us a military bugle-call. Therein are they utterly mistaken. It may open their ; eyes—and their ears—to, learn that this British tune has been adopted as the National Air by Denmark, by Prussia, and by collective Germany. Great musicians 1 have honoured it—Weber in the Jubel | Overture, and Beethoven in his Battle [ Symphony. Referring to this piece in his journal Beethoven writes: "I niu-st show the English a little what a blessing they have in 'God save the King.'" 1 quoted Grove above, and it is in Grove that these and other eye-openers may he ■ found respecting the musical quality of bur National Anthem. Speaking for myself and offering temerariously a judgment of , my own, I find in the melody of "God save the King" what will not easily be found in any other piece of the same scope and compass, a, happy blend of gravity, dignity, and enthusiasm. Mr J. F. Arnold, Labour member for Diuitdin South, on the.labours of the session: The returns showed that members worked an average of eight hours 26 minutes in the House itsolf each sitting day of the session, and in addition to that there was something like two hours' select committee work each day; so that m reality members last session worked something like 10£ hours every day. Why members of Parliament should pass all sorts of measures restricting general labour to eight hours a day, and at the same time work 104 hours per day themselves, was a conundrum ho could not answer. ' A Sweated Industry. At early morn, the slavey's knock: "Please, Mister Arnold, 8 o'clock; An' 'ore's yer cup o' tea." The paper, next, till 9; end then, Just as I'm dropping off again, Tho breakfast tray; eo, alter 10, There's no more sleep for me. The day begins; and, let mo soy, A legislator's working-day Merits the public pity; For ore with; haste and iailing powers His mid-day luncheon ho devours, He~will have laboured two full hours A-sittiug in Committee. This crib-time ended (much too Eoon), Through all the dreamy afternoon His natural rest ho loses Consulting on affairs of State, And barely hopes to mitigate The dreary drouings of debate ( By surreptitious snoozes. Th 0 shadows fail; the lamps are lit; Still must tho "sitting member" sit; And when, through oonstant sitting, His what-d'ye-callems need repair, Must patch with leather here and there, Intent to keep by utmost care Their working parts from splitting. At times he' s,ponts, at timos divides. 'l'is_true;—but then onco more subsides His nether end—with pain. And when at last the House is up, And members troop away to sup, What fills the measure of his, cup Is, " Leave to Sit again." O Toiler, of ambitious bent, Change for no " seat in Parliament" . lour eight hours' work and pay! Would that a job at carrying coal Were mine, as erst at heel and sole; But, no! 'tis duty's stern control— And thirty bob a day! Cms.