WITH WHICH IS INCORPORATED THE SOUTHERN MERCURY. FRIDAY, MAY 25, 1888. PASSING NOTES.

Otago Witness, Issue 1905, 25 May 1888, Page 20

WITH WHICH IS INCORPORATED THE SOUTHERN MERCURY. FRIDAY, MAY 25, 1888. PASSING N OTES.

The Emperor Frederick is repprted better, and, in most suggestive sequence, the same telegram tells us that Prince Bismarck has fallen ill. The Emperor and his Chancellor in their relations with each other seem to resemble the oscillating figures of a toy barometer. When one is en evidence the other is en retraite, when one is up the other is down. A month ago the Emperor's life seemed to hang by a thread, and steps were being taken to hurry on the Battenberg marriage. That was the moment chosen by Bismarck for asserting himself ; the Batten* berg marriage, he declared, could not and should not be. Then the Emperor rallied ft

bit, and Bismarck was offered a dukedom — a polite way, probably, of inviting him to retire. But his master's health being still auspiciously precarious, the Chancellor determined that for the present he would not be kicked upstairs. He declined the dukedom, " not having the means to support it" — a rather unlikely story, a s it strikes me. Finally we were told last week that the Emperor had so much •improved as to be able to take walking exercise and transact business 1 , whereupon Bismarck takes to his bed, and his medical advisers order him " immediate rest." It is impossible to miss the suggestiveness of this little comedy. If the Emperor dies, Bismarck would be as great a man as he has ever been, and greater ; if the Emperor lives and gets strong, Bismarck's political career is ended. That is a result to which the English speaking world would reconcile itself without much difficulty. The despotic governments that are Germany's neighbours, Russia and Austria, would doubtless prefer that the regime of blood and iron should continue ; not so the British, who are clearly of opinion that it is time their Teutonic cousins had a change. Strange that these and so many other momentous issues should hang on the condition of the Emperor's larynx and the skill of a Scotch physician. For a moral sedative or damper, depressing whatever is best in a man and liberating for mischief whatever is worst, commend me to Dr Macgregor's counterblast to Dr Salmond ! Be it observed that lam no partisan of Dr Salmond — not I ! Did I spare him over the piece of ecclesiastical jobbery to which he owes his present appointment ? As for the novelties of his " Reign of Grace,'' they are as old as the hills ; nothing is new but Dr Salmond's belief in them and his astonishment at his own heroism in confessing it. But his opponents have such a genius for putting themselves in the wrong ! How can it serve their cause or the cause of religion to tell Otago Presbyterians at this time of day that the object of their worship is the mythical monster addressed in " Holy Willies Prayer" ?— 0 Thou wha in the heavens dost dwell, Wha, as it pleases best thysel', Sends ane to heaven and ten to hell, A' for Thy glory, And no' for ony quid or ill They've done afore Thee. It is not lorn that rules the universe — says Dr Macgregor — but will, emphasising the word by italics and capitals. The Almighty does what he pleases, and renders no reasons. IE you are not one of the elect, your duty is to be damned quietly, and ask no questions. When this kind of doctrine is preached to me my impulse is to stone the preacher. In fact, I am brought dangerously near to the state of mind in which John Stuart Mill penned his famous " to hell I will go " passage. " I refuse to love and honour such a Being," wrote Mill— mad, no doubt, but mad with righteous indignation against the Macgregors of his day ; •• -" and if such a Being can send me to hell for refusing, to hell I will go I " I shudder reporting it. See to what fervours of wickedness these pious pedants bring us by their chop-logic theologies. They have a deal to answer for, — all their own sins, and not a few of ours. It may be that those people who most are made angry by Dr Salmond's doctrine are precisely the people who most will need the benefit of it. As respects Dr Macgregor, judging him by the wrath and bitterness of his pamphlet, the case may be stated thus : Salmond affirms, in Macgregor's despite, That there's hope after death for the sinner — poor beggar ! If Salmond's not wrong, then Macgregor's all right, But if Salmond's not right 'twill go hard with Macgregor. Let me do justice to Dr Macgregor on one point. His doctrine may be dismal, his style obscure, his temper bitter, but for all that he is capable of humour, and his humour— of the sardonic sort — is simply overwhelming. Not to dwell on the momentary gleams of it scattered through his pages passim — e,ff., the supposition that Pharaoh might have been carried across the Eed Sea on eagles' wings, "or in a balloon made of the paper of an old pamphlet"; the statement that Dr Salmond has " two strings to his bow : in the first place the kettle was mended by us, in the second place we never had it" ; and the acute remark that " because some people had escaped from shipwreck in their shirts that is no sufficient reason why we should ultroneously adopt the same airy and perhaps wholesome costume" ;— not to linger over these diamond points of wit, take one or two sustained passages in which the theological humourist puts forth his whole Strength : The young, pale student, in a brown study, not now thinking about the stars that light his world, is startled by a frog that splashes in the puddle, or a small fish that for a moment flashes from a stream, beside his day-dreaming path in life. And he is vehemently moved if the fish emit a gasping shriek, or the fros* a bellowing roar, of malediction on the star. But when he goes home to his books, these old stagers will suow him that this terrific phenomenon, though startling, like the whooping'-cougb, and, like t.vins, somehow never expected b Q fore it arrives, novertheless has often shown itsolf, nnd left the star unmoved. This is a charming illustration, verily, to light upon in a heavy polemic ou the " Day oE Salvation-." So also is this : — An extremely powerful nnn vicious ram once bettered a gardener considerably, who took his revenge as follows : — It was the nature of the animal to butt viciously, and with ferocity, at human beings. And this gardener made the sin to be its own punishment by shaping a huge log of wood into the form of a man, aud making it t) swing suspended, man-like, toward the beast; ajd,' left. The combative ram thereupon furiously assailed the wooden man, butting continually ; while the man, at every stroke, first giving way, would then come swiuging back like the returning stroke of a hammer. When the gardener revisited the spot next morning, the wooden man was swinging in full force and integrity. But of the combative ram, still butting, nothing remained but the tail. And the youngest grandchild of the least brilliant of Jethro's judges can by this time see, that the way of a necessity of nature is useless or unavailing. It is Dr Salmond, no doubt, who is the shrieking fish, the bellowing frog, the extremely powerful and vicious ram ; it is Dr Balmond's pamphlet that is a " terrific phe-

nomenon, like the whooping cough, or twins" (!) Impossible to deny the humour of all this, though it be humour of an uncouth, heavy-footed kind. The Oamaru divine does this sort of thing with the grace of a rhinoceros practising the Highland fling.

If the "secret history of the Loan Bill' published this week is not true it ought to be. That is evidently what the compiler felt when he took pen in hand to weave the story. There is a delightful sensationalism about it met often on the stage, but too seldom occurring in politics. Mr Fulton goes to the Premier and tells him not to count upon his own vote or those of his friends on the Loan Bill. " Hold 1 are you absolutely resolved 1 " asks Sir H. Atkinson, unconsciously quoting " Patience." " Absolutely. lam adamant," responds Mr Fulton, following suit. " Then," says the Premier in an agitated whisper, " step this way ; " and tiptoeing into his private room he shuts the door. What passed behind that closed door, according to the correspondent, is not definitely known. Quite so ; but it can be imagined without much difficulty. Sinking upon his knees, the Major buried his face in his hands, while his shoulders shook with convulsive sobbing. At this Mr Fulton of course patted him gently and said " Come, come ! " This is the stereotyped form of consolation, and the only thing that can properly be said under such circumstances. It composed the Premier somewhat, no doubt, and presently he blubbered forth the whole sad story : how he had procrastinated matters until the cour try had been brought to the verge of bankruptcy, and how there was a man in possession in the next room prepared to advertise the colony for sale by auction unless he was promptly settled with. Then Sir Harry, with trembling fingers, unlocked his bureau, and began tossing over lawyers' letters, past due bills, judgment summonses, pawn tickets, and all the insignia of impecuniosity, Mr Fulton's visage growing paler and sterner as he proceeded. At the conclusion, Mr Fulton said in a husky voice — " Cheer up. All may. »ot be lost. I will save you yet." " Noble, generous friend," said the Premier, embracing his legs, "if the devotion of a life " "Hist," said Mr Fulton, "no more," and he started forth upon his mission to convert his fellow members and to save the country. It is annoying, after taking the trouble of wading through this romance, to be told that the whole thing is a myth. There is another engaging narrative going the rounds relating how Sir R. Stout captained the Opposition in the emergency, and this we are also told is a myth. The newspaper correspondent says he has the highest authority for stating that both stories are authentic, and the strongest reasons for believing both to be lies. Whac are we to believe ? — that is the question. Personally I prefer to believe the narratives, and will consider the contradictions at a later date.

The tendency of this modern educational system of ours — the ultima Thule of the philanthropist — will, by the way, cause more than merely vague alarm in days not far ahead. Who will black our boots and break stones for us in the twentieth century 1 Who, indeed 1 Why, it may even be a question who will till our fields and garner in our harvests. The Daily Times echoes the note of alarm this week in its article upon the absurd preponderance of our non-produc-ing population. It is a little displeasing, perhaps, for the lawyer, the doctor, or the clergyman to be told that he is the dependent of the toilers and the moilers; but he undoubtedly is, and, useful as he is in his way, the mischief is that he is getting too numerous. Our secondary educational system produces him with too great fecundity. Those of our youth who have not arrived at the professions are heading that way, and a dangerously large proportion will get there. Where is it to end ? and if it does not end, what are we to come to ? A pardonabte human weakness causes a man to prefer working with his coat on if he can, and the more education you give him the more tightly does he button up his surtout, and the more severely does he polish up his boots and the handle of his big front door. Is democracy a dream '/ Is it necessary for the greasing of the world's wheels that injustice and selfishness should reign to some extent, and that the blessings of higher education should be distributed not to all alike, but to a favoured few alone ? It looks ralher like it. Either that, or in the centuries to come a vast community of M.As. and LL.D's. will suddenly awaken to the vulgar fact that they are hungry, and that there is not the wherewithal to put beneath their well cut waistcoats. Then there will be a rush to the fieldp, and thews and sinews will again become as fashionable as brains. They were a great deal more fashionable, remember, once. Then sturdy scholars will exchange the pen for the pruning hook, and university professors will have only the base, i.e., the bodily feeble, in their class rooms to chop logic. The professors themselves will chop wood instead.

It must be as a relaxation, after dealing with such burning questions as the Kaikorai School problem, that the Education Board have turned their attention to horticulture. Dr Hislop's memorandum, adopted by the board and distributed in the form of a circular to school teachers, is a pastoral couched in somewhat dictatorial terms, perhaps — but yet a missive treating of things peaceful and pleasant. Teachers are urged — nay, more than urged: commanded — to beautify their school grounds by the planting of trees or shrubs, and the " formation of a fruit, flower, and kitchen garden." It may be argued, says the pastoral thoughtfully, that there is no statutory provision for repaying the teacher for this outlay ; and so it obviously may. The pity is that the forethought which prompted' the board to suggest this objection did not also prompt them to meet it. The pastoral is silent upon the subject thereafter, except that it hints at donations from settlers and " a moderate amount of personal effort " by the teacher. But proceeding even further into detail, Dr Hislop writes :—: — The timely expenditure of a few minutes now and again by the teacher in driving a nail or two, in fixing a rail or a wire, or in putting in a support to a post, would frequently render a fence secure for a considerable time, which, if ne-

glected, would soon become useless. The same may be said as regards the securing of a shingle, a board, or a piece of spouting, the clearing out of a drain, and the attention given to the hinges and fastenings of doors, gates, and windows. Prudent and practical, and conveying clearly that more is required from a teacher than a knowledge of the use of the globes. At Dotheboys Hall, it will be remembered, the theoretical was combined with the immediately practical in much the same manner. " Spell winder," said Mr Squeers, " and now get out and clean it." In this case it is merely the pedagogues instead of the pupils that Dr Hislop wants to put to the touch. To drive a nail, fix a rail, secure a shingle, board, or piece of spouting, and clean out a drain may be included in the future among subjects necessary for a pass, and really, seeing the tendency of our universal education, it might be a good job too. A correspondent sends me some interesting j particulars of the Eev. Dowie's recent ministrations in Milton. According to the statistics of Dr Lindo Ferguson, we have been privileged within a short space of time by the visits of nine separate and successive quacks, each of whom, no doubt, had good reason to feel satisfied with the ignorance and credulity of the Otago people. The field ; is still unexhausted, and the Rev. Dowie, who has been here before, thinks it quite worth a second visit. One of Mr Dowie's recent miracles, as he informed the believing people in Milton, was the removal bj faith of an encysted cancer from a young woman's eye, in which organ it had been established for 2£ years. The same young woman had also an internal cancer, which Mr Dowie, by the same means, victoriously expelled ; and the same young woman had since had a " beautiful baby." To meet the needs of a practice of this kind — continually expanding, and conducted partly by correspondence with patients ia all parts of the world, " including France and Eussia" — Mr Dowie had " asked the Lord for a secretary, and the Lord had given him one — very nice of him, wasn't it ? — a nice, intelligent, biddable young man, consecrated to the work, and " — most important qualification — " willing to accept by way of salary more kicks than ha'pence." It would be interesting to know whether by Mr Dowie's " secretary," we ought to understand an accomplice or a dupe. As to the ha'pence, Mr Dowie attends to that part of the business himself, on which point take an extract from my correspondent :—: — Whenever he (Dowie) wanted anything he jusb asked the Lord for it, and He gave it to him. And yet he had never asked for a penny in his life. " Now, for instance, I want a lot of money. You reckon I won't get it ? I reckon you're wrong. I will get it ; the Lord will give it to me." Then about a couple of sentences after he said, " Now, if the Lord tells any of you to give me some of that money, see — (this in a stentorian voice) — see that you listen to the call of the Lord." Fifty or sixty Milton people listened to this farrago of profanity and impudence without seeming to be nauseated by it. Two old women left before the meeting was over, presumably because they had had enough ; and Mr Dowie called after them "Good-by,e, beloved"— satirically, I should say — but the rest seem to have remained to subscribe and be "Jiealed." Is there positively no way known to I the police of suppressing this unctuous and disgusting species of quack ? Apropos of " asking the Lord " for exactly what you want, I may here reproduce a story which has some humour in it, a quality not to be looked for in the impudent ravings of a Dowie. Two clergymen were walking on the cliffs near Morwenstow, a village on the Cornish coast, when a gust of wind robbed one of them of his hat and carried it over the cliff. What became of it is best told by an extract from a religious paper, under the heading of " Remarkable Answer to Prayer." A preacher at Truro had mentioned in a sermon on " Prayer " that whilst travelling along the Cornish coast, near Morwenstow, he bethought him that he had a shocking bad hat, and that he would very much like a new one before he entered the smart watering place of Bude. " Then I lifted up a prayer for a covering more suitable to my head. At that solemn moment I raised my eyes and saw in the spacious firmament on high — the blue ethereal sky — a black spot. It approached, it largened, it widened, and fell at my feet. It was a brand new hat by a London maker. I cast my battered beaver to the waves, and walked into Bude with a new hat on my head." Unfortunately the original owner, though unable to follow his property over the face of the cliff, pursued it with his eyes, saw it appropriated by the pious wayfarer below, and subsequently sent his account of the affair to the papers. " The rascal was conveniently deaf to my shouts," he said, " and he has still got my hat." This unveraciouslooking yarn, for the veracity of which the Literary Churchman is responsible, brings to my mind a story that used to be current about an evangelist in this part of the world who shall be nameless. Visiting amongst his flock the good man would remark, " I prayed this morning for a new hat " — or a new topcoat, as the exigencies of his wardrobe at the moment might suggest. " And," he continued, " I believe I shall get one before night." Adoring disciple (feminine gender, of course) immediately takes steps to ensure that he shall not be disappointed. There is no harm, I believe, in assisting Providence to fulfil your own prayers. Civis.