PERSONS WHO WRITE SECRET BOOKS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2171, 3 October 1895, Page 46

PERSONS WHO WRITE SECRET BOOKS.

CuTUOUS Facts About Strange Litbhatubh. "In the Russian University of to-day," «aid an old professor, writing from St. Petersburg recently, " the student knows not for a moment what the morrow may bring him. Brow beaten, harassed by vexatious and absurd rules, encouraged to be dissolute, idle, debauched, even drunken, he is a victim of a system of espionage the like ''of which the world does not know. Even his very chum, the man whom of all others he looks upon as a friend, the man with whom lie reads, walks, eats, and takes his recreation, is very often a spy. Every letter that be writes is diligently read if once he has given bia superiors cause to suspect him. His lightest word is weighed as a solemn .Utterance. Nor is the case rare when he disappears from his friends like one snatched away in the dark, wiped out by some visitation." ; Tbe excellent man who wrote these words —one of those who fight the battle of Russian liberty from a place in the front rank — goes on to add that amongst the results of this system of petty — and often more than petty — tyrrany is the production of countless secret books. 1 " Written by stealth," says he, " guarded as Eome charm or treasure, the secret book is everywhere. I bave even known instances jof a man carrying a whole manuscript round Ifcis neok, wearing it as one wears a chest pro[teotor, yet drawing it out lovingly when in jthe company of a man he could trust. The jsentiment of come of these productions is atrocious. Assassination is openly advocated; revolution, with all its bloody fborrors, is preached with youthful vehar mence and extravagance, Dsßpito the keen 'eyes of the authorities, these secret books go Teverywhere. One was laid upon the breakfast table of the new Czar within a month of bis accession. It was ill-written, wellthumbed, adorned with a picture of a coffin 'and a dead mobarch. How it reached the room but one man living can tell ; and he is scarce likely to betray himself. Yet that it was written in the university, and that several minds framed it, is beyond dispute." Secret book? in Muscovy are not, however, entirely the work of students. Anyone who has read a recent publication here, entitled " The Humour of Ru«&ia," will notice that Stepniak's contribution to that work is labelled " Printed by the Secret Press." It is strange to think that, notwithstanding the unresting vigilance of the Czar's police, this mighty revolutionary engine is never at rest, Boattering seditious literature to the remotest vUlogPs, printing the thoughts of the greatest miude, of the leaders of lius3ian liberalism. Here and there the spies of the Czir ferret out some press which helps to issue these secret books. A printing office ia ransacked, two or three compositors and the proprietor of the establishment are hurried off to exile ; but the press, like tie river of the poetß, goes on for ever. Volume after volume is poured out. Now great minds like Shchidrin satirise the Czar himself in such a delightful pieoe of humour as "TbeEagleas Maecenas"; dow an exile appeals to those at home in some such beautiful pieoe of writing as Stepniak's "Story of a Kopeok." And thef clice meanwhile are .ga&shiDg with frenzy,

that the little Spicish monarch was a hopeless imbecile, to slay whom would be to commit an act of justioe and of charity. " Shall we permit thiß squalling maniac to rule over as 1 " he aeked. " Shall we be governed by a madman in long clothes?" But we may aesume that he had no answer, fcince his book bore the name of no printer, nor was it possible to tell whence it had come. That secret books are often the means for ventilating private grievances is not to be disputed. There was published in Italy, about 12 months ago, a very handsome volume, adorned with some fine illustrations, and ostensibly desjgued as a work on the political 1-istory of Italy. Only 1000 copies of this work were struck, and it was circulated with great privacy. Those who read it were not long in discovering that it was nothing but a vile and scurrilous attack upon Signor Crispi. In the same way, Bismarck, iv his time, has been the victim of hundreds of secret, and often very costly, books. It is gratifying to remember that the pages of the majority of these productions are now used chiefly for wrapping up butcher's meat, and that tho only current copies are those in the possession of the man of blood andiron, who points to them with triumph when taking a visitor to hi 3 library. Here, in London, the eecret book is cot unknown to us. From time to time in the city some scandal or some humour is brought to light in a work secretly printed and circulated only among a chosen few. The Stock Exchange has gone into ecstasies mora than once over some Euch publication ; while Mincing Lace has been convulsed several times by biting satire emanating no man knew whence. Perhaps, however, the funniest secret book issued for a long time was a volume discovered quite recently by the head master of one of our leading public schools. This consisted of ruauy sonnets, lyrics, essays, and general tributes of ac miration for a niuch-eHe-uie3 actress o£ the ltou.\ As everyone knows, the head boya in great public schools invariably discuss leading ladies of the stage ; and so great was the admiration of these particular boys for this particular lady that they had written a book about her, and were scheming to deliver it when it fell into the hands of a master. It is good to hear that birchings followed, and that the masterpiece was consigned immediately to the flame*.

a considerable course of parliamentary training, was over an object of Sir Pat's most furious Indignation. " Humble animal as I am," ho observed one night, with gesture of contempt towards the Pcvrnellites, " I am not about to asbume the character of a lion. If I were to do co, I Bhould seleot as my jackal the hon. member for Wexford [Mr W. Redmond]." "Why? Why?" shouted the delighted Radicals below the gangway. " Why 1 " answered Sir Patrick, in a voice of thunder — " because I scarcely ever speak without his calling out ' Order 1 ' " Thie, so precisely describing the functions and habits of the jackal, settled the matter. Mr, T. P. O'Connor, not beyond suspicion of writing for a Dublin paper certain London correspondence in which the member for King's County was frenly discussed, wae another object of Sir Pat's fiery aversion. i What lent a special charm to his assaults on the enemy waß their unexpectedness. One night, contributing a luminous 6peech in committee on the vote for the Balary of National School teacherß in Ireland, Sir Pat, looking across the floor, happened to observe Mr O'Conner laughing. Like a flash of lightning he was upon him. " As the modern Plutarch who writes in the Freeman's Journal Bays that I am generally uciutelliglble, of course a Plutarch at lO^s a week mu3t be a much greater man than a Greek Plutarch." It was in this came debate that Sir Patrick, always effective in his gibes at the pecuniary relations of the Parnellite members with their constituents, and with what he described as "the great army of servant girls in the United States," ascended to what was, even for him, an incomparable flight of eloquence. "All persons ia Ireland," he said, oracularly nodding his head, " whether Orangemen or j Nationalists, or Whigs or Protestants, or members of the faith — if any faith were left in the country — or whether they bfloi g to that tti'l lai^er lumber which is VMit'iig upon Pi.jv'hli.t.co, unit- J ing to see whether the wind will always blow from the west aero s the A'laalio— all these ought to unite in promoting education." Whilet the puzzled House was trying to follow IMb line of thought, Sir Pat, raising his voice and solemcly shaking his forefinger at his compatriots opposite, continued : " The wind may possibly blow across the j Atlantic in a way very unpleasant for some ; people, notwithstanding the grand vertebra '

ascertain what I think of him, and how I will deal with him." Things beginning to look serious, tho chairman sternly interposed, and Sir Pat was reduced toeilence. But it was only temporary. The debate continuing, the committee was from time to lime conscious of a voice breaking in en the ordered speech of the member on his feet. " Afraid ? " it inquired, in a loud stage whisper. Whenever, for the next quarter of an hour, there was a lull in the conversation, this whimpered inquiry " Afraid ? " resounded through the House. It came from Sir Pt&f, who, agoin leaning forward, was intently, with mocking smile, watching Mr O'Brien, who severely ignored his existence. The chairman interpoeiog with increasing sternness, Sir Pat rose and slowly strolled down the House, pausing before tha bench where Mr O'Brien eat and beckoning him to follow. He speut some time in the outer lobby, walking np and down like an angry tiger awaith g its evening meal. The Overman Mahon chancing to pass, Sir Patrick engaged his services as a second ; an arrangement of which he punctiliously informed Mr O'Brien, taking it as a matter of couree that he would make simildr provisions on his own behalf. Judioious friends interposing, got the irate baronet safely home, and Mr O'Brien lived to suffer much in prison, and on his release to carry on the Boulogne negotiations. — Hen by W. Lucy, in the Strand. Valuable Discovery for the Hair —If your hair is turning prey, or white, or fulling off, use tbe "Mi.xic\.n Hair Henbwer," iov H, will positively restore in evert/ cute Grey or While Hair to its oripiiuil colour without leaving the disagreeable Binell of most "restorers." It makes the hair charmingly beautiful, as well a=> promoting tbe glow tli of tbe hair on bald spots wheie theglajicb are not decayed. Ask your chemist for "Thf Mexican Hair RrNnwrcit." Sold by chemists and perfumers everywhere at 3s (id per bottle Wholesale depot, 33 Farringdon road, London.— An>r. J-'huiiune!— For tut. Tr.irn and Bueatii— A fus <li ops of the liqiii-l " J'l 'lihnc" i-piinkleil on a wet toothbrush produce^ a pleasant lather which thoroughly cleanses the teeth from all parasites or impurities, hardens the gums, pre vents tartar, f>tops decay, gives to the teeth a peculiar pearly whiteness, and a delightful fragrance to the breath. It removes all unpleasant odour arising from decayed teeth or_ tobacco smoke. "The Fragrant Floriline," being composed in part of honey and sweet herbs, is delicious to the taste, and tbe greatest toilet discovery of the ago. Price 2a tfd of all cheiuiata and perfumers. Wholesale denot. 33 iarnnzdoß toad, London.— Advt.

threatening, bullying, boating, exterminating, only to be mocked the more a3 each new book appears. From the Russian eecret book to the English secrtt pamphlet is rather a long jumpyet not an uninteresting one. Of all the secret books published here during the last 10 year*, the most impudent was one which attaoked a member of the R Family in uncompromising terms, and dragged in the names of many people prominent in society. There wes a time, about three years ago, when this detestable publication was produced in every great drawing room you visited. It was a small pamphlet, wretchedly printed, and bearing no name upon it ; but 10,000 copies of it were struck and dist ributed araongfct well-knowu psople, to the great delight of scandalmongers and the deep disgust of honest men. Royal people of all countries seem to be the chief victims of the secret book writer. Perhaps the most extraordinary case in recent times was the attack on the German Royal Family for their action at the time of the first marriage of one of the Princes of Hesse. The details of this action have since been made public in a romance ; but thestory was known many years Bgo in Germany through the pages of a secret book, of which 1000 copies were printed aud circulated in the Dachy. Truth to tell, it was a very extraordinary story. The prince in question had married the divorced wife of a leading statesman ; but the Emperor and others had different ideas for him, and interfered with a ruthless and unsparing severity. N>>ws of the marriage do«s not appear to have leaked out until the weddiog day, when the bride was confronted suddenly with an order of perpetual exile, and was literally torn from her husband and sent across the frontier. So secret was it all, so well did those engaged guard the confidence, that this deed might never have been known but for this secret book, written no one knows by whom, but circulated freely throughout Germany. There was shown in London, some little time ago, a literary curiosity, which consisted of a tiny work of 50 pages, beautifully bound and printed, and oontaining a violent exhortation to the immediate assassination ot the young King of Spain. The v liter seems to have been a lunatic, and a rich lunatic. Oa the principle, perhaps, that to the mad all thicgd are mad, he endeavoured to prove