Passing Notes.

Otago Witness, Issue 1382, 25 May 1878, Page 14

Passing Notes.

Dr Somerville has come and gone, and & good many have doubtless been making for themselves psychological analyses of the causes that have contributed to the immense crowds that day after day and night after night have waited on his ministrations. As a merely secular Passing looter of current events we are, of course, precluded from taking knowledge of the latent and supernatural influences that may' have accompanied the venerable evangelist. These are outside our proyince. That they may be productive of great spiritual good and for the furtherance of vital religion, every well-wisher to humanity must desire, but into that sphere we durst not enter. Our observations must therefore confine themselves to the visible phenomena in this work of evangelisation. Paul says that his own bodily presence was weak and his speech contemptible ; so that it will be regarded as no disparagement to the venerable Doctor's mission if to the outward eye there was nothing to account for the rush of orowds, and if people asked, in wonder, "whatever .is the cause of—the throng 1" We had » baoit i»id excitement, but excitement

there wu none. There was certainly much in the venerable preacher's appearance ; snowy locks, age, and benevolence of countenance, and unmistakeable goodneii and sincerity. But after that, what ? Something in the matter ? or in the manner ? or in the adaptation of one to the other 1 No. That there were occasional passages of word-painting very beautiful and fairly committed to memory no one will deny. But by far the larger portion of his addresses consisted of the tamest platitudes. No attempt at argument that would bring conviction to any reasoning mind; not a solitary new idea unfamiliar to any adult accustomed to go to church ; not even an appeal to the emotions that could have the least effect of exciting tenderness, enthusiasm, or anything else to make the heart throb. The illustrations, ad for example that of the clusters of grapes in a basket, were not merely simple — for simplification ia desirable often — but childish, and accompanied by a species of I dramatio representation and action that j could not but provoke a smile, while the action — that element in oratory which has been described as first, second, and third in order of importance — was so utterly inappropriate and unnatural a* to be bizarre. This is not written in any hostile spirit, but, granted that divine messages are t© be conveyed by human instrumentality, is it necessary that all our ideas of congruity should be violated f And is it in accordance with the ways of the God of Nature that he or his messenger should ignore all the ordinary avenues to the human mind, and approach the mind in a fashion that tends to close all the approaches ! The beautiful allegory of carrying the lambs in his bosom has somewhat of a melting influence on minds racked and harrowed in this woeworn life ; but what kind of heart is it that is approached by an expounder of that touching picture of love. Divine, who represents two young sheep tucked under his elbows, and prances up and down the stage crying, " Baa ! baa ! b— Ji—a !" Let it not be supposed that this is reflecting on the tenderness and beauty of the original teaching. But is it not a total misunderstanding of the human mind, and especially of his hard Colonial mind, to suppose that this rough form of grappling with it is effective. Another illustration in the collection for the Association. When a few hundred pounds were subscribed, " Praise God from whom all blessings flow" was demanded by the advocate from the choir, then a few hundreds more were added as if in response to the appeal. Then another pull at the handle of the pump of grace seemed to draw forth some more hundreds, and so as each few hundred pounds was added the choir was again and again and again called on to ply the musical appeal to heaven, until the fountain seemed dry, when a vote of thanks was given to — the Chairman. Let it not be supposed that we doubt the good which we are informed has been done. But is it not a pity that hearts are so obdurate that grace must be so grotesquely exhibited before it find an entrance? And we can hardly think it necessary, but on the contrary, for one that may be benefited, and would, perhaps, have been benefited in whatever way presented, there are hundreds who are left to scoff. Dr Somerville, sincerely good old mau as lie is, like many another of the genus new chum, has a profound consciousness of his accurate knowledge of the colonial character. We are quite sure that he would never have cut such antics on the stage in Glasgow, and that his method of procedure is not natural to him, nor commends itself to his own good sense. But he conceives that this is the thing for the semi-civilized condition of colonial life, and the vast crowds that have been operated upon by various influences to crowd t« him, will have confirmed him in this impression. He has been well heralded. The appropriate emotions have been locally well worked up in anticipation ; crowds follow where crowds run ; Ministers having got in the current must go with it, or be regarded as void of true religious feeling ; yet we say with great confidence that — if without the accessories of heralding, &c, and barring the musio— if Dr Somerville were a settled minister in Dunedin and continued ' the same manner of preaching, he would empty the biggest church in the city in the space of six months.

The influence whichmusic has in lending a charm to religious services was well exemplified during the recent evangelUtic—which by the way is the new and improved term for "revival" — mission. Whatever the difference of opinion as to the merits of the preaching, every one has praised the singing. It was a common remark that| there was a striking resemblance in it to Christy Minstrelsy, but it was none the worse for that ; indeed, as » rugged old divine once said, why should we let the devil have all the good music '? Christy Minstrelsy, or whatever else it was, it was good, and the wonder is that churcheß do not take the lesson and learn it, for " Sweet by-and-by," and " Will you meet me at the Fountain," and kindred sacred lyrics, may be rankedhigh up among the causes that have contributed to the crowds of' the past few weeks. And can anyone give a valid reason why music of such a class should not be brought to relieve the dreary monotony of our doleful wailing 1 Ecclesiasticism is of course the most conservative of all isms, and sets down any such departure as the tawdry gewgaws with whioh the carnal heart would decorate religion to iti own

sensuous taste. But surely if the Christy Minstrel style of music was fitted for revival — we beg pardon, evangelistic — meetings, it cannot be desecration to import it into ordinary Sunday services. If it is but a meretricious adornment of things sacred, it was as bad surely for an occasion when the spiritual nature was being moved to highest extacies, as it would be for occasions when a troubled " doze " is by common consent regarded as a pardonable thing. There is a distinction here that is very puzzling to the uninitiated, but of one thing every sensible man will feel assured, that if the Church came down off its stilts and helped itself to aids that music such as this can give, it would lend a charm to religious oervices that is sadly wanting, and approach man's emotional and devotional nature by one open door which Nature has herßelf provided.

Following the example of his brethren in Victoria, a Wellington clergyman has taken up the cause of the suffering Oivii Servants. Can any one tell the affinity that connects these two orders of society 1 That, however, is beside the question; but their champion assails the Government right valiantly because of the Ministerial minute passed, compelling that Civil Servants, like other citizens, mußt provide for their widows and orphans. Where the hardship cornea in one finds it difficult to see, but it is exactly such a case as affords room for a cheap indulgence of pathos. Why should public servants more than private one 3be exempt from the duty of saving and foresight ? Men in every rank of life, from the labourer upwards, are found, who from their savings can make Btated investments in the form of a policy of insurance on their lives. In many a case they must make sacrifices of comforts, and conveniences, and even necessaries, to do this, but they do it, and nobody lifts up his voice and weeps. And why should a Civil Servant do otherwise 1 What wrong has the country done him that he should claim the right to billet his wife and children on it when he is pleased to kick aside his stool and go yonder? If his pay is not sufficient to enable him to provide for his household, then let him quit the Service and betake himself to harder and more remunerative work. But lot us hear no more of this maudlin talk, as if he had conferred some eminent service on the public by working for it— and his pay. There is one course that the Government should take as the best remedy against this fatal malady of improvidence, and against the liability of the country to be saddled with responsibilities. Let an edict be proclaimed and published among the Barnacles, that everyone of them not incapacitated by bodily infirmity who has not on such a date, fixing it, his life insured in a goodly sum for the benefit of his wife and children, if he have such, will be forthwith dismissed from the public service ; and that the premiums, if not paid on due date, shall become a first charge on his salary, and that every man that does not like it will be permitted to send in the resignation of his office. That will fetch them.

The phonograph ! Now let me die ! The steam engine and the telegraph, and photography are even antiquated. The telephone we know, and Moffet's bell punch we accept, but the phonograph ! We want nothing more. Bottling sunbeams, even a bottle of the darkness of Egypt — that darkness that might be felt — have been within the repertoire of Yankee ingenuity, but bottling up a man's words and reproducing them at will, not once or twice, but a hundred times — there the imagination, in the beautiful words of the discoverer of the antarctic pole, the " imagination is liable to wander into boundless regions of potential wealth" when we have got the phonograph. Indeed nothing but bewilderment results from an attempt to conceive the manifold uses to which this newest offspring of American enterprise will be applied. Instead of the slow and painful process of writing a letter, a man will talk into his instrument, and send away the tinfoil containing not the clumsy words in lifeless letters, but the burning words themselves. Instead of going to hear a lecture, if the night is damp, we send our instrument, and there, if the weather has been very unpropitious, will be found a thousand instruments automatically bottling up the words of the speaker to reproduce them as time and opportunity admit. It is to bear the lover's words " sighing like furnace," to be reproduced with all the variations of vehemence and gentle whisperings to the ear of his loved one, who, instead of poring over tinted, scented, but yet dull and lifeless pages, will have but to turn the crank and anon she has the very accents of her adored one. The devoted husband can bottle up a curtain lecture, and when far away and inclined to folly he may turn the crank and will be instantly saved, called back to wisdom and propriety, and feel himself in the bosom of his family again. Instead of hearsay evidence in our law courts every man having his instrument at attention will act it to work to catch the flying words ; and touching a spring, project 9 it may be, the fiery eloquence of the " Devil's halfacre " into the serene atmosphere of the Temple of Justice ; music, eloquence, of all the greatest artists and orators of the day to be bought at so much per sheet of tin foil to be put on our instruments and reproduced in all their thrilling beauty by our am firesides. All this, and far beyond it, we are assured by solemn assur-

ances from America, are to be given us by Professor Eddison's phonograph ; and it is very like — a whale.