PASSING NOTES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2325, 22 September 1898, Page 3

PASSING NOTES.

"From Saturday's Daily Times. As nobody knows exactly what it is that j the anarchists want, nobody can understand clearly how they suppose a policy of assassination will help them to get it. If, as the word "anarchism" implies, it is the abolition of all government that they want, the assassination of the Empress of Austria seems about the most frantically foolish means to their end that could be imagined. The immediate result is to make all government stronger. In every capital sympathy j and support rally instantly to the constituted ! authorities, and would do so all the same if,instead of an amiable, world-weary Francis Joseph, who has suffered much evil and done little, the ruler at Vienna were the Grand Turk. , The moral of anarchist crimes is that we want not less government but more. Probably something will now be done to hunt these human tigers down. A French detective is said to have been aware of the assassination plot that came to fruit at Geneva ; instead of nabbing the lot he merely warned the personages threatened, amongst whom, unfortunately, was not the Empress of Austria. She, poor lady, was made a victim because the anarchist could not get the man he "wanted, the Duke of Orleans. Under Swiss law an intending political assassin is safe, it seems, until his deed is done. Much the same thing is true in England, so careful are we of the health of political refugees ! These immunities, one would say, will have to come to an end. It can hardly suit the Swiss that " the playground of Europe ' should be a nest of anarchist criminals whose hatred makes little distinction between aristocrat and plutocrat — between reigning personage and fat bourgeois. Mile-long processions to demonstrate sympathy are very well in their way, bufc a clean sweep of plotting foreigners would be bettei\ A similar expurgation might be effected with advantage in and about Leicester square.

%h$ centre .of interest in the Soudan has

shifted from Khartoum to Fashoda. Thither General Kitchener has set out in person, taking with him his staff and a small military force. In high European circles, diplomatic and military, curiosity is much exercised as to who and what he will find when he gets there. Fashoda is a point on the Nile, neaily half way from Khartoum to Uganda. To the east, near at hand, is Abyssinia ; to the west, and far away, fronting on the Atlantic, are various French colonies and possessions, their "hinterlands," or hinder parts, stretching well into the Central African desert, if desert it is. From these French territories on the Atlantic seaboard more than one filibustering expedition has set out eastward, with intent to plant the French flag on the Upper Nile and thus block any British advance from Khartoum southwards. One of these parties, under a Colonel Marchand, is supposed to have actually reached Fashoda. To Fashoda Kitchener has now gone, and we are left to ask ourselves, with bated breath, what will happen if Kitchener and the Frenchman meet. The position will be perilously like that of the two goats meeting on the single-plank bridge ; one or ether will have to back off or go over into the-stream. That it won't be the British goat I have a sufficient conviction, helped thereto by the face that the French are by no means so cocksure of their Russian ally as they were but a short time back. Those nefarious proposals for universal peace and for neutralising Alsace-Lorraine have sadly shaken French faith in the Czai\ All the «ame, French vanity is highly inflammable stuff, and the civilised world will, for the next few weeks, keep an anxious eye on events at Fashoda.

So far I have only met one man who believes in the Czar's proposal for disarmament. Like other folk who labour under an hallucination, he thinks the rest of the world affected, himself the one sane being in its Bedlam. He is quite impervious to reason. He argues with the most touching faith in his own views that Russia, with hor overgrown and ever-growing territory, must of necessity feel the pinch of militarism more acutely than her neighbours ; that the Czar is an up-to-date sovereign, who studies economics, and does not expect the laws of the unirerse to courtesy to great kings ; that he must understand the difference an army productively employed would make to the wealth of his people. He scorns the argument that the active, unremitmg fortification of Port Arthur tells heavily against the bona fides of the proposal : " What ?" he asks ; " would you have him throw his targe away with the mad chivalry of Roderick Dhu, leaving his foe — yes, England, peace-loving, moral England — with her huge navy, which, like Fitzjames's brand, is to her both sword and shield ? There must be concerted action in the matter of disarmament, or war would be invited by the very laying down of arms." Ycm see, our poor friend is quite hopelessly possessed by his idea that, as he puts it, " Civilisation is on its trial. ' As solitary as Galileo, he swears it does move. Suppose, by some queer chance, he should be right? Heavens, how the man would crow ! It is not in human nature not to : in view of which calamity I would respectfully suggest to the Government that a " Deportation of Undesirable Neighbours Bill " might be introduced before this barren session quite expires.

Out of his superfluity of naughtiness , " Historicus " has spoken. He notes the Ministers' Association's wail over the Sunday trams, and their appeal to all good Christians to mend this most distressing state of things, this breaking the Lord's Day. Why, says " Historicus," there's no such thing, and how then can you break it ? When you come to think of it, it is a good while since the official beginning of the wtorld, and there wouldl? be very considerable difficulty in proving to the rationalising theologian that even Moses knew for certain that his Sabbath was the legitimate successor of the serenth day of creation. Then the appropriation of the first day of the week ; let us admit that that was wise and right of the early Church ; but how on earth are we to know that we are now keeping the clay the early Christians kept? Who will essay to pilot us through the Avild sea of Old Style and New Style, and other tinkerings of the calendar? Then what about that day the voyager loses coming to these Happy Isles? Don't some of us gain it, though? For we can come to New Zealand East-away or Wcst-away. Does anybody, even a D.D., a bishop, know anything about the matter? And if not, how can anyone be proven guilty of -

a breach of the command to keep the Sab- 1 bath holy? Is the general custom to be J taken as a guide ? That would be opening a wide door, I fear ; wider than all the Ministers' Associations in the country could close again. And yeb it is a very serious ques- j tion : do not Continental Sundays and — the deluge — loom ahead? "Historicus," " Historicus," what have you done ! j

The Victorian Legislature has rejected a proposal to give the political franchise to women. Benighted Victoria ! Mrs Civis is divided between pity and contempt ; she has informed me, nevertheless, that " there is no reason for discouragement " : " Discouragement !" — I echoed, dutifully, — " certainly not ! " She gave me a glance -of official scrutiny, and there was a thoughtful look in her eye. Mrs C. is no simpleton ; disingenuousness seldom escapes her. To tell the truth the telegram from Victoria had not produced in me any tendency to discouragement — none that I was aware of. Magnanimously disregarding my baseness Mrs Civis proceeded, in measured tones : "It is merely a question of time. Politicians in Victoria are presumably married men, most of them at any rate ; their wives will wake up presently ; then we shall see ! " Ignoring a murmured assent from the weaker vessel. Mrs C. continued : "As for the Hon. Mr Campbell, who 'had been advised from New Zealand that the granting of woman suffrage had created a tremendous amount of discord among families there,' I should like an opportunity of giving him a piece of my mind. Does he suppose that any woman— even in Victoria — would believe such a senseless slander? 'Discord in families,' indeed! — has there been any discord in this family, Mr Civis? " As she paused for a reply I answered firmly, "No, there hasn't." "The idea is ridiculous," she continued, loftily ; " do you think I would have pei'mitted it ! Then Sir Charles Dilke makes the wise remark that under women's franchise in New Zealand 'the women have voted much as their men folk voted before.' This is amusing, certainly ! Couldn't he have supposed that the way the men voted before was the way their women folk wanted them? Not that Sir Charles Dilke's opinions are of the slightest consequence, on this subject or any other, considering his personal history " But at this point the oracle suddenly ceased. She " thought she heard the baby," and disappeared in the direction of the nursery.

Shakespeare is Shakespeare and Wathen is his prophet ! And yet, Ido not know tha-,, after all, the commentators have not ■won a higher place in my good friend's esteem than the immortal William. I am told that it is evident that I have not studied "The Winter's Tale," ("A Winter's Tale," my critic says, by the by) ; and upon 'what sorb of, evidence? Because I venture to demur to the findings of " the critics "" — a Mr Schlegel, whoever he may be, among the rest. I actually dare to think that a woman who kept her penitent husband waiting in lamentable widowerhood for 16 years before extending her forgiveness to him, was not intended as a sample of a perfect wife. I actually dare to think that a woman who for 16 years makes no attempt to find her child, was not intended for a mould of form maternal. That is my crime, and all the critics sit upon me and condemn me for the Philistine I am. Well, well, if Shakespeare study consists in getting up the plays now a la Dowden, now a la Schlegel, now a la anybody but oneself, I most assuredly have never studied " The Winter's Tale," or any other play of Shakespeare : moreover, witness it, O Critics ! I never, never will. I like to see with my own eyes, which is not so common a failing as might have been expected, and not with those of even the prince of critics. Let them throw never so wondrous an enchanted mantle over Hermione and Perdita, I shall not make pretence of seeing what I do not see. My friend stands in amaze at what he is pleased to call my attack upon the character of Perdita. Heavens ! Is it only Shakespeare critics that are worthy of careful stndy? Did I say one thing that is not actually true about the maid? And did I not take pains to add, that " I should never dream of saying that these things are not essentially beautiful and womanly." Has my critic so little wit as to rank me of all people with the worshippers of Grundy? Let them assert that Shakespeare's work is perfect, and I am wholly with them, using the word " perfect " as it may be used of mortals and their works ; but why should we so stultify

ourselves as to assert that every character the Mage created is a perfect character?

My last week's note on statues has drawn a reminiscence from an esteemed correspondent quite worthy of presentation to the readers of this column. A certain church mutual improvement society — not in Dunedin, be it understood — with great hardihood invited a local eccentric to address them upon any subject he liked. The L. E. chose Statues for his theme, and advocated the establishment of galleries of sculpture in every town throughout the colony. He enlarged on the resulting benefit to national physique, and so to national intellect and morals, which would arise from the habit of contemplation of such glorious antiques as the Venus of Milo (which, by the way, he contended was a Here), the Laocoon, the Antinous, and so on ; and of the moderns by Michael Angelo, Canova, Thorwaldsen ; and indeed the lecture was enjoyable, and if delivered to an audience of philanthropic millionaires might have resulted in a " movement. ' However, whether from ignorance of the matter, or from shyness in the imaginary presence of the nude, the members of that mutual, men and women both, sat silent, and the evening threatened to be a failure. At last a daring spirit, a young banister, got on his feet, and with veiled eyes and modest voice opened the discussion. It may have been pure inadvertence — the trail of his profession : it may have been design — the trail of genial Artemus ; but he referred consistently throughout his speech to statutes, while even the boldest did not dare to laugh! As the debate progressed it became plain that the general opinion was unfavourable to the lecturer's proposal, when up rose yet another legal light. This gentleman reminded members that there was another matter engaging the attention of the town at that precise moment — namely, the provision of public baths. Why not coiribine the two schemes? The chief object J to the gallery of sculpture' seemed to bo the nudity of its inhabitants ; now if the statues were erected at the baths — but here the speaker's voice was appropriately drowned in floods of laughter.