Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

Wolfe's Schnapps Just What the Doctor Ordered-.

j ing and crashing blows Jtroni the opening ( the campaign. And so, chattering, eatin I laughing, fuller of life and the joy ai 1 glory of life than almost any body j living men amid the millions of the worl ! these men sat ; and in a second, witho j a word of warning, the explosion. ; tl , mad and anarchic confusion, and the swifter tlian the wing of bird, wholesa I death. It is no wonder that the who world has shuddered as it 'heard from af . this dreadful moan of destruction and disa ! ter, and that for once the beating of tl wing of the angel of death has seem; to touch every cheek as it parsed thousani of miles away. It is the horror of wi rather than the love of peace that in tl end, probably, .will put* an end to th savage method by which nations still sett , their differences. — Makharoff the Man. — 'lurning to the personality of Admir Makharoff, there seems to be no doubt thi • he was one of those fascinating beini , who are an inspiration in war and : peace, with all the virtues that win syn pathy and affection. There is always great attractiveness in the Russian soldii or sailor. Underneath there may be som thing of the untamed passions that they d rive still from their closeness to the my terious East. Kipling, who knows n Russian, though he is not quite fair to hin always contends that Russia should be coi sidered, not the most Eastern of Europea Powers, but the most Western of the m tions of Asia ; and I daresay that is sound judgment. But. all the same, thei is no man who has the external cultur and charm of Europe to such an exter as the Russian gentleman. Brought v from childhood by^woman of different iie tionalities — by a French nurse, by an Enc lish governess, by a nurse from Germanythe Russian gentleman is often able * t speak, not only with perfect correctness, bu almost (without a trace of accent, nearl every language of Europe. And of th«V foreign languages, the one the Rustlai loves most of all is perhaps the Englh With all that antagonism which what°an supposed to be conflicting ambitions creat between the Russians and the British races tnere is a good deal of respect underneat] it all. — His Stay in Newcastle. — Admiral Makharoff was a true type o this Russian gentleman that I have beei sketching. He spoke English perfectly !ie was intimately acquainted with mos English things; he had as his hero an< his master that greatest of the sailors o any nation and of any age — Kelson. have^ seen it stated that he wrote a worl on Nelson which showed yet greater appre ciation and command of the genius am work of Nelson than even the famous book of Captain Mahan on the same subject Makharoff was a daily student of Nelson in fact. He also showed his keen faith ii the naval genius of England by constant visits to this country. In Newcastle-on Tyne he was especially well known ; and, says a Newcastle man, writing to th« Westmister Gazette, "to know him was tc like him." ''The gallant admiral," continues this writer, "counted a large circle of friends in and around Newcastle who will to-day sincerely mourn his fate. A man of fine presence, with a great charm of manner, displaying at all rimes a quick intelligence; a lively interest in all matters pertaining to shipbuilding, and an old-world courtesy that knew no distinction of social stationit is little wonder that he became popular amongst North Country people. Probably his most intimate friend was Mr Arthur Gulston, who was associated with him in the construction of the Yermack, a.nd ac30inpanied him on her earlier cruises to the Baltic. The admiral was a frequent and ilways welcome guest at Mr Gulston's house m Newcastle, and the latter retains pleasant recollections of visits paid to Admiral Makharoffs home in Russia. It may be idded that Admiral Makharoff spoke Engish with remarkable fluency, and" upon one occasion delivered an admirable speech on Arctic exploration at a gathering in the Jui-ham College of Science, Newcastle. —Nicknamed "The Englishman."— In another way the dead sailor showed his tppreciation of English methods. "The a-te Admiral Makharoff," says a writer m he Daily News, "was nicknamed The li.nglish.nian ' by the Emperor Uexander 11, owing to his inense activity and devotion to outdoor ports. Even when long past middle-age ;e allotted two hours a, day to physical serci&es. He rode before breakfast every lorning, but his favourite exercise was n-imming, and it is one of the ironies of ite that such a man, so much at home on le water, should die from drowning. "Not only wa's Makharoff -a first-rate trimmer, 'but h& attempted to coerce his ibordinates into equal proficiency. In 500 he gave a silver cup to b© competed >r by the sailors at Cronstadt, and, timing ie racej was much disgusted to find that> le winner had taken longer to cover fydf verst +han he had often done it in him- j ;lf. Every morning he was rowed in a )at from the Government quay for the pur- ! 3se of bathing, and 'Old Blue-Beard,' with towel across his arm, was sometimes seen aking to the quay w|thjn a week of the ; feeing up q{ tbje icW ~ ' J

I — The Admiral's Light Reading. — => j The writer from whom I have just quoted ic j 1 seems to know more about Makharoff as the jj* , man than any other of those whose articles ■*> I I have read j he has drawn a very vivid " j and intimate picture of him. Makharoff 16 j had tliat love of the light French novel jj 1 ' his hours of ease which seems to be a c trait common to many great men of action. le Bismarck, we all know, was never so li " happy in his hours of rest as -when he was 3 " 1 deep in the entanglements of one of Gaboi« 1 riau's detective stories. Mr Balfour is °- ( known to be a devourer of French novels ls 1 and memoirs ; and, though it is not generLr j ally knowr/, Mr Chamberlain has the same ;e I passion. When- he is so thoroughly •exs j hausted by his tremendous work as to be ■■° unable to read anything else, i.vlr Chamberlain can lose liimself in a modern [French story. So also did Makharoff amuse his il i leisure. it "In his library at Cronstadt," says the ;s writer in the Daily News, "a whole wall of n book-shelves was covered with the sensa1- tional romances of Eugene Sue and Dumas, a His favourite, however, was Maupassant. r t He knew English well, but declared that .. he could read no English novelists except ! :- Smollett and Fielding. Poetry of all sorts ' ; - he detested." s —"Old Blue-Beard."— '■■> Makharoff would not be entirely interest- I - j ing and attractive if he had not his share ! aI of human weaknesses. One was a strange ■ 1 hallucination as to his powers. He would a , not have cared, apparently, to have been c I recognised as one of the greatest sailors a l of his time, but he was very proud of his t 1 skill as an artist. I quote from the Daily P j News correspondent again : ' 1 "He invariably copied the designs for - ( his own inventions, and his success in this - . encouraged him in "the belief that -he could ■> , draw from nature. During a holiday, two t , years ago, on the north coast of the Gulf T j of Finland, he spent nearly all his mornings 5 j turning oufc water-colour drawings of the 1 surrounding scenery. One day two youn* 1 cadets from the Sissoi Veliki, who" were ; spending their holiday on a 'datcha,' or 5 summer house, close by, saw an elderly and - somewhat untidy old man working "labo1 riously at a sketch. Looking over his shoulder, they began to criticise tne draw- _ ing unfavourably. The admiral turned : round, and said, quizzically, T "think I 1 know you, young gentlemen.' 'We don't know you,' retorted one scapegrace; 'but ' you're as like Old Blue-Beard as two eggs ' ; , The incident ended by the admiral inviting : . the offenders to lunch, dismissing them . !-with the caustic words. 'Even elderly artists : j deserve respect from naval aristocrats.' " j — Makhaioff's Mendicant. — ■ j There is another picture of Makharoff wnich I find even more fascinating ; perhaps it is because it especially appeals to an Irishman. I have sometimes surprised Russians by insisting that there is a great underlying resemblance between the Russian j and the Irish character. So much do I I tefl th:s that I can read a Russian nove 1 — j tjK/ugh I have never bpen m Russia — with nlmost the feeling that I have lived among ats people and known them all my life. j And one of the peculiarities in which they resemble each other is in their charity. Economically, it is all wrong; it is per- ■ haps very injurious ; but there it is : the ■ Russian and the Irishman give alms to the < street beggar. I have known poor Irish 1 households where, every Sunday morning, , there was a retinue of beggars who came 1 as regularly to get t.heir alms as servants • vvmild to get thtdr wages. My Mend Denis I O Sallivan, the great singer, is the son of j an Irishman who, having become rich in < San Francisco, regularly had a table laid i at the back of his big house, on the heights j of the great western capital, for the passing 3 beggar man. And that is why every Irish- < wan the world over will be particularly 1 struck by this little thumb-nail sketch of f Makharoff in one of his aspects: ■, '• MakhirofFs Mendicant," was one of the 1 characters of Cronstadt. This was a de- J 1 ciepit old sailor, named Yakushkin, who > used to display on his chest a board with 1 the inscription : "I am under the patronage ' of our Governor." Yakushkin was once i airc-sted for being drunk and disorderly, i and entered the police court with the label c on his chest, much, to the amusement of the \ magistrates. The admiral's charity, how- fc ever, was not confined to one person, and x every morning, when riding before break- £ fast, he was besieged by the halt and tke t blind. He first gave them kopecks taken c I out of a pocket in his sleeve, and then „ I drove them off with his riding whip."' a — Rich and Poor in Russia. — p Isn't l-bat like a scene from ona of Tol- a stoi's pages? It is one of the paradoxes li with which the student of Russian litera- o ture is constantly being perplexed. Here c is the country which, alone of the coun- P tries of Europe, still maintains an auto- ■" ca-acy, and all the other traits of an d ancient and impossible past ; and yet in n what country do you find such ex,traordi- o: nary evidences of that egalitarian spirit t] witlsh makes the highest and the lowest ti still regard themselves as brethren? In h many inspects, everything in Russia ap- 11 pears to us of these countries to foe. wrong ; a.) and yet if their literature be any guide to r< their life and thought, in what country are p there— amid all the anarchy of autocracy is aad a ftowerfuj. aiistocracj and an op- d.

i pressed proletariat — in what country are j ' there such extraordinary signs and mani- „ ' festations of the spirit of the Gospel of !! I Galilee? 2 j —Love of the Brethren.— g j In Tolstoi, in Turguenieff — in all their n writers — in any play which professes faitha ' fully to represent Russian life, you have ," ■ habits which look less like those of a modern J ' European State and a world of millions of _g ! Gallios than they do life at a time when the ,_ Christians were a little Socialistic and persecuted section, driven into equality and , communism and fraternity as they skulked ,' .' in catacombs while Nero burnt their a brethren in the public highways. In the manifestations that take place in front of ■" " the Czar's palace during the jvar, there is — i amid all the profound respect given to the , 1 Autocrat^-often " this personal touch on 1 the part of his Deople and on his, which s breathes a spirit of human and personal brotherhood, and shows how all are kin in B . Russia, from the monai-ch to the streetsweeper. — Makharoff and Skobeloff. — Finally, here is a little description of j ', J Makha-roffs outer man which I find in an , { excellent article by a writer who apparently i is well acquainted with the great sailor : s "In :mtward appearance Makharoff showed signs of the spiritual force which moved within him. Tall, handsome, im- - ! posing, there was an indescribable charm 3 ! about his bearing. His eye was piercing, 2 and seemed to read the inmost thoughts of I those with whom he spoke. In some de1 gree he resembled that giant among Rus3 siaa soldiers, Skobeleff, the hero of Plevna, 3 and lie was proud aud pleased when the - resemblance was recalled." And so, farewell to this gallant fellow. — ; T. P. t FUNERAL RITES AMONG THE ! BRAHMINS. . (By a Brahmin, in the Madras Mail.) i Ceremonial and 'ritualism appeal so r strongly to his religious feelings and his s fondness for details that the Hindu does j • not allow any event of 'his life, of the j slightest interest or importance, to re- . main uninvested with the sanctity of solemn j and impressive religious observances. Births and birthday anniversaries, marriages, investitures with the sacred thread, the greatest •emblem of Brahminhood, have all their own appropriate rites, and it is but natural that the Brahmin, with the large faith tliat he lias in the efficacy of post-mortem ceremonies, has invented and observes an elaborate system of solemn rites for the benefit of the living and the dead. A Chinese funeral, with its attendant ceremonies, is supposed to involve a laboured conception ; but it dwindles into quite a trifling affair by the side of the rites and ceremonies that immediately follow a death in a Brahmin household, and Jast for nearly a fortnight. Long as this period certainly is it, does not suffer for want of occupation ; arduous and wearisome" duties are prescribed which, on some of these- 13 da3*s, take up many hours at a stretch. Though all these rues may not admit of popular presentation, an attempt, will be made to : explain the more important of them as well as their religious significance. ] % I shall, for the sake of convenience, assume that the eldest son of the deceased, : j who is the person entitled in the first in- | i stance to perform the obsequies, is present j in the house when the death occurs. If the deceased has no ma.le issue, the responsi- , bility of making the funeral offerings de- "j volves upon some one or other of his rela- j tives, acoording to the degree of their con- < sanguinity. If the death has taken place during the night, or cluring the krishna- 1 paksha — i.e., the fortnight when the moon is on th© wane, or the dakshinayana, correspooiding to the latter half of the calen- , dar year, ceremonies are ordained the immediate performance of which will counteract the evil effects of these inauspicious ( periods of the day, the month, and the year. We read in the "Mahabharata" that x Bhishma, the veteran leader of the Kaura- T . vas, in the great Kurukshetra war, was ' I mortally wotmded at a time when the \ j "dakshinayana" had but three days to run ? itself out ; but, availing himself of a boou 1 the gods had' given him, that he could 5 choose his own time to die, the great hero - waited till r che "uttarayana" set in, and then c breathed his last. The corpse is washed, c . preferably by the daughters of the deceased, and a new cloth is spread over it, j; the face only being exposed. In almost all j cases the corpse is removed from the house - within 24- hours of death. It is placed on a. bier consisting of two fresh-cut bamboos « placed lengthwise, with parallel staves laid j across, the framewoik thus resembling a s ladder, and green cocoanut leaves spread over them. If relatives do not offer to n carry the corpse to the burning ground, { professional bearers liave to be employed, ' C( who are drawn from the lowest and most «„ despised ranks of the Brahmins. When ~ near the crematorium, the bier is placed on the ground in three different spots, and the sons of the deceased go round it six c times at each place, the right and left o halves of their tufts of hair being alter- n nalely left untied during these circum- n ambulations. The cremation ground Ci reached, the corpse is placed upon the 81 pyre with the head to the south, and fuel p is heaped on alj parts of it from the chest 5 dowiOT'^. AH the reiaUyes of tl« de- I

ceased present at the burning ghaiH then, 'place upon the mouth of the coips? grains cf rice soaked in water, symbolic of hit being fed prior to his lost great journey.^ and the pyre is then lighted by the eldest son dropping on it the embers he has carried from his home in a now pot. Then the whole pyre is coated with clay, theieby being transformed into a sort of kiln. Finally, before the mourners leave the place, the beaieis undergo a purificatory ceremony, and the sons of the deceased have a clean shave. Un returning home, the son buries in some portion of the house a small stone, which is not removed till the tenth day. The house is polluted so long as this stone renvtins in it. A similar stone is buried near a pond or tank or at the river side, aiK. is also not to be inteifered with for > 10 days. The belief is that the deceased - remains a "preta,'' or corpse, for 11 days, anc£ ' becomes a '"pjitri" or "mane"' on the twelfth. During the first 10 days, this preta is supposed to be in a slate of constant motion, between the house and the river or tank. ■ Cocoanuts are placed near the spot where " the stone is buried in the house, "to quench ; the thirst of the preta. Jj'or these 10 days [ a dairy ceremony is prescribed, con- ■ sisting of the offering of balls of rice both, ■ in the house and at the wateiside. Doles of rice and plantain fruits are given to appease tli© preta's hunger. Corresponding to the Roman Catholics having masses said for the benefit of the souls of the deceased, the Hindu mourner engages Brahmins to take a considerable number of dips in some sacred river, whereby the deceased has his sins washed away. The melancholy and 1 ■wearisome duties of the first day sometimes do not end till sunset. The chief occupation of the second day j« the "Samehayanam. The pyre is examined and the remains are collected by the son. who, for the occasion, wears on his left hand a black thread passed through a brinjal. The remains are preserved with a. view to their being thrown into some sacred' river, the Cauvery, the Godavery, or the Kistna in Southern India ; but the Ganges, the holy river par excellence in Indiaf is preferable to all these. I pass on to the tenth day, the intermediate days having no particular ceremonies prescribed beyond the daily rites already mentioned. All the agnates, younger than the deceased, have a clean shave, and, bathing in the river uilank, each of them offers, at the spot where the stone is buried, 75 libations of water, the youngest leading. Corning home, the son offers the "prabhulabali," consisting cf rice, sweetmeats, curries, etc., and this conglomerate must be presented at the termination of the day's ceremonies to a washerman. The "pashanotthapana"' ceremony follows ; the piece of stone buried in the hor.se is removed from the ground. The unfortunate widow of the deceased is decked out — what hollow mockery — in her best finery. , and taken to the river and bathed. Frej senis of new cloths are showered upon her — the last gifts she receives in her life — I by her sons, daughters, brothers, and other relatives. For a year commencing from this day she is not permitted "to' cross her threshold. At the riverside, the other stone is also removed from the ground, and the two pieces are cast into the water. -All the agnatie kindred) then sit down near the water's edge, and join in a grand* ceremony called the "anandahoma," that is to say, the sacrificing of rejoicing. At its termination, a small stone is cast to the south, the quarter of Yama, by which the gates of death are supposed to be closed against members of the family for a long time to come; henca the name of the ceremony, seemingly inconsistent with the melanchok' occasion. The eleventh is the saddest day from thewidow's point of view. The "tali," which every Hindu wife wears round her neck during the lifetime of her husband, is removed and her hair is cut off. No more shall ornaments beautify her person, no more is she permitted to enjoy the many innocent pleasures of life. This is not tha place to enlarge on the -wretched lot of the Hindu widow ; suffice : to say that she is among the most miserable beings on this earth during the first years of her widowhood. At the riverside, the son performs the "ekahoma" ceremony. A fire is kindled, and ghee, oil, and other "sividd.ha' materials, together with 32 balls of rice, are thrown mto it, accompanied by the chanting o - "mantrams." This symbolises the feeding of a Brahmin at the annual cerarmmv. A • home, the "ekoddishtam" is performed, us which a Brahmin of the lower caste is fed. The dedication of a male calf to some temple is among the chief incidents of the twelfth day, and is the visible expression of a pretty belief. The River Vaitarani, which corresponds to the Styx of the Greek mythology, has to be crossed by every liberated soul, which can only do so by catching hold of the tail of a young bull. To insure, the safe passage of the deceased across the waters of the Vaitarani, a. calf is bought and left at large within the precints of a temple. Then follows the "sapindtkarana" ceremony by which the spirit of Ilia deceased, if a male, is united with the spirir. of Jiis three immediate male aroesrors ; if the deceased be a woman, her .soul is suppesed to join her mother-in-law, hoi gr.ind-mother-in-law, and her great-grandmother-in-law. It is only after this rite that tha deceased ceases to be a preta, or corpse, and becomes a pitri, or mane. The first: "sodakumbha" ceremony is performed on this day, and is repeated every 30 days for t; ■; space of a twelvemonth. Ihe thirteenth and last of these days of melancholy ceremonial is observed solely for the benefit of the living kindred of the deceased. The ''santi,'" a purificatory ceremony,

is celebrated, by which all the baneful effects . that the recent death may have on the family are counteracted. There is then a sort of social gathering, to which all the friends and members of the family are invited. A costly dinner follows, new cloths are given to the performen- of the obsequies, caste marks, which had been prohibited during the last 12 days, are resumed, and the ceremonies following the melancholy event terminate.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW19040622.2.258

Bibliographic details

Otago Witness, Issue 2623, 22 June 1904, Page 71

Word Count
3,981

Untitled Otago Witness, Issue 2623, 22 June 1904, Page 71

Untitled Otago Witness, Issue 2623, 22 June 1904, Page 71