THE WEEK.

Otago Witness, Issue 2667, 26 April 1905, Page 45

THE WEEK.

" liMau Iliad ittiri, aiiud smpienili dixit."— Jotchai,. "4*04 nature aad co*u aeoie muse erer jam."— Ptrx.

fhe long delaying of the Baltic fleet upon

the Annam coast has Ihe Xeutrality caused considerable irritaof France. tion in Tokio, and has

raised in a more or less Acute form the question of the neutrality of France. According to latest advices the tension has been somewhat relieved by the nature of the French reply to the Tepres&ntations of Japan, in which the expulsion of the Baltic fl«et from Kamranh is promised, and the determination of the jFrench Government to preserve her neutrality is affirmed. The bare possibility, Jiowever, of France being betrayed into .violating her netrtrality, with all the international complications which might ensue, lends interest to an aiticle in the current Nineteenth Century upon the 'Anglo-Japanese Alliance. The writer, "with Prince Bismarck as his authority, proceeds to discuss the limitations- of all national agreements, his argument being fhat such agreements are not unconditionally and absolutely binding upon the signatories, as in the case of civil agreeJnents. In support of this position, he quotes Prince Bismarck as saying in his memoirs :—"All: — "All contracts between great statesmen cease to be unconditionally binding as soon as they are tested by 'The Struggle for Existence.' No great nation will ever be induced tc sacrifice its existence on the altar of fidelity to contract when it is compelled to choose between the two. The maxim ' Ultra posse nemo obligatur ' holds good in spite of all treaty formulas whatsoever ; nor can a treaty guarantee the degree of zeal or the -amount of force that will b&^ devoted to «the discharge of obligations when the pri,vate interest of those who have made the treaty no longer reinforces the text at its earliest interpretation." Those who uphold this view point out that at a critical moment in the history of any ■nation its first duty is toward itself, and that, therefore, there is no need for 'those in authority to hesitate when called -upon to make up their minds whether they shall break their pledge to an ally or ruin their nation. The question at once occurs, of what use are treaties if the principle be accepted that they are

| only conditionally binding ? And here I Prince Bismarck is once more willed to bear witness. He says epigrammatically . " Alliances are the expression of common I interests and purposes;" and, continuing in the same strain, adds : " I think, therefore, that to ensure the durability of a written treaty, it is indispensable that the varied elements of political interests, and the perils involved therein, should not be left out of account. . . Even in the eighteenth century, it was perilous to reckon on the constraining force of the text of the treaty of alliance, when the conditions under which it had been concluded had been changed ; to-day it is hardly possible for the Government of a great Power to place its resources unreservedly at the disposal of a friendly State when the sentiment of the people disapproves it. No longer, therefore, does the text of a treaty afford the same security as in the days of the Cabinet wars." Upon these premises, Mr Eltzbacder, the writer of the article referred to, argues that it is perfectly clear that a nation by signing a treaty of alliance does not by any means altogether sign away its liberty of action ; that it may not be helplessly plunged into endless and unexpected complications by its ally ; that it need not follow its'" ally on any insane course upon which he wishes to embark ; that in spite of all solemn formulas, it is merely a limited partnership for business purposes. Adopting this view, it does not appear that there .is great danger of France violating her neutrality for the sake of sentiment, for, once more to to quote Bismarck :— " In the policy of sentiment there is no reciprocity of any kind. . . . Every Government takes solely its own interests as the standard of its actions, however much it may drape them with deductions of justice or of sentiment. . . I cannot consider it right, either in myself or in others, that sympathies or antipathies, with regard to Foreign Powers or persons, should take precedence over my sense of duty in the foreign service of my country. Such an attitude contains the seed of disloyalty to the ruler or to the country which one serves. But if anyone tries to arrange the diplomatic relations and the maintenance of a good understanding between Governments in times of peace upon such, personal and sentimental predilections, he ceases, after my opinion, to be a statesman, being solely actuated by his personal caprice. According to my view, not even the king has the right to subordinate the interests of the country to his own feelings of liking or disliking towards foreigners." The moral standing of the foregoing is certainly not lofty, but nowadays diplomacy is carried on for profit, and the principles enunciated by Bismarck -are undoubtedly those* by which the policy of most nations is guided. It has been well said that the advent of Bismarck into the political arena brought to a close the era of political generosity, of magnanimity, and of 'cosmopolitanism. It was Lord Palmerston who said : — "England has no eternal allies, and no perpetual enemies," and the events of today go far to -prove the truth of that saying. It is, therefore, probable that Russia smd Japan will be left without the intervention of any other Power to fight out the battle to the bitter end. And what that end may be, no one will venture at the present juncture to foretell.

The recent decision delivered in the English courts by Mr Justice The Spirit Farewell, which denies the

of public the Tight of access Stonehenge. to Stonehenge, directs

fresh attention to that historic spot on the Salisbury Plains. One of the best • descriptions of Stonehenge is that given by George Borrow in "Lavengro." In his masterly sketch of Borrow which appears in Chambers's Cyclopedia of English Literature, Mr Theodore Watts-Dunton says : — "To Borrow, who loved to dwell upon coincidences, the world was a stage on which a great afTd varied romantic drama was" being xjlayed. It was this as much as anything else which made him snch an interesting companion. He eventually found himself, without any definite object or plan, on Salisbury Plain. No one was ever more impressed by Stonehenge at sunrise — when Nature and man's handiwork seem greeting each other — than the homeless wanderer Borrow, whom temperament compelled from the first to live a lonely life, whether as a hermit of the dingle or among men. Wonderful dreams of the past and the future came to him among the gigantic remains of Stonehenge, which he would afterwards relate to one or two intimate friends with a glow not to be found in the finest passages in 'Livengro.' " This is Borrows own description of Stonehenge : "In the midst of the tongue of sward formed by the two roads, collaterally with myself, I perceived what I at first conceived to be a small grove of blighted trunks of oaks, barked and gray. I stood slill for a moment, and then, turning off the road, advanced slowly towards it over the sward ; as T drew nearer I perceived that the objects which had attracted my curiosity, and which formed a kind of circle, were not trees, but immense upright stones. A thrill pervaded my system ; just before me were two. the mightiest of the whole, tall as the stems oil proud oaks, supporting on their tops a huge transverse stone, and forming a wonderful doorway. I knew now where I was, and laying' down my stick and bundle, and taking off my * hat, I advanced slowly and cast myself — it was folly, perhaps, nut I could not help what I did — cast myself with my face on the dewy earth in 'the middle of the portal of giants, beneath the transverse stone. The spirit of Stonehenge was strong upon me And after I had remained with my face on the ground for some time, I arose, placed my hat en my head, and, taking up my sick and lundle, wandered lound the wondrous circle examining each individual stone from the greatest to the least ; and then, entering by the great clooi'j seated myself upon an immense

broad stone, one mclp of which -was supported by s-evoial small ones, and the other sl.mtcd upon the eaith ; and there in deep meditation I sat for an hour or two, till the sun shone in my facp above the tall atones >>f the eastern side." In the conversation which ensued between Livengro and the shepherd (who soon appears on the scene), Borrow refers to the tradition that these huge stones, r. round whirh so much interest centres, were originally brought from Ireland to the Salisbury* Plains by many thousand men to form a temple in which they could worship their gods ; and then he continues : "The British were the men who aic supposed to have worshipped God in this place and who raised these stones. Our forefathers slaughtered them, spilled their blood all about — especially in this neighbourhood — destroyed their pleasamt places, and 'eft noi , " to use their own words, one stone upon another." Until the report of the proceedings in the English courts reaches us, it is impossible to say what will be the effect- of the judgment ; but it is to be hoped thot the nation will take care to preserve Stonchenge intact. In this connection it is ■well to recall the words with which Borrow concludes his references to this strange relict of the r>ast : "Whenever that stone, which English hands never raised, is by English hands thrown down, woe, woe to the English race. Spare it, English ! Hcnyist spared it !"

It is evident I hat the fate of Maxim Gorky still hangs in the The Fate balance, for the latest

°f news concerning him is that Haxtm Gorty. hf> d^mnridpd a public

trial, and has summoned Prince Mir&ki and M. de Witte as witnesses. Gorky ("The Bitter"'), whose real name is Alexei Maxhnovitch Peshkoff. is. only in his thirty-seventh year, but no Russian writer ever more quickly achieved the honourable distinction of compelling the nervous and tyrannical bureaucrats to take notice of him. Very early in his career the news came that Maxim Gorky had been carried off to the Caucasus for a brief detention, in order that an enthusiastic popular reception might be prevented in Moscow. And yet the strange feature in the whole- case is that never until the recent appalling episodes did this master of Russian fiction in the slightest degres middle with politics. But all who are familiarly acquainted with his powerful delineations of the social conditions of his country, well understand how intolerably exaspei-dting they must be to the great "Tchinn," or official class, seeing that such a writer does much more to intensify discontent and to sow the seeds of mutiny than does any direct political assailant. The first of Gorky's stories wMch attracted sencril attention was "Chelkash," undoubtedly one of the pearls of Russian literature. Tho "Voice of the Outcast" in literature was a new sound in the ears =of the world, and its echoes now reverberate everywhere. This is how the Russian " Tramp-Novelist " voiced his message to the world . "I have come from below, from the uethermost lound of life, where is naught but- sludge and murk. I am the truthful voice .of life, the harsh cry of those who still abide down there, and who hava let me come up to bear witness to their suffering." It is scarcely sever years since Gcky took the world by storm with his first volume, and one of Ihe main reasons for his prodigious success is the fact that his literary work has grown so directly out of his own personal experience. "Furthermoie,"' as one of his critics has lately remarked, "this writer, the spokesman of the 'Barefoot Brigade,' is as an artist in grey, of consummate power, a supreme sample of the Slav temperament, as well as a. paramount exponent of the Slav melancholia. He voices the sadness of Slav civilisation, accentuating it even more pathetically than Tolstoi, more dramatically than Gogol, and more powerfully than Turgenieff. Indeed, Gorky blends in marvellous combination the qualities of all these masters. And, accordingly, in him the cultured classes instantly recognised an artist who knew how to paint with a few strokes, whenever he pleased to make the attempt, the most vivid pictures of the impressionist style that have ever represented ihe real state to which myriads have been reduced under the, sway of a gorgeous and heartless despotism." Gorky's success as i novelist has led him to try his hand at the drama. His first attempt was entitled "Mestcbanic"' ('-The Small Bourgeois"), which dealt with the irrepressible conflict between the old and the new, the fathers and the &ons, the declining order and that destined to supersede. This drama appeared in May, 1902, and tv as greeted with universal admiration as a vivid picture of life amongst a vast section of the oppressed nation. Gorky's latest drama was produced in St. Petersburg only two or three months ago, ,£fnd was entitled ''Dachkine" ("Small Cottagers"). It is it. biting satire upon the cultured section of the upper classes in Russ-ia. who are represented as spending their existence without any useful aim in life beyond idle enjoyment and the pursuit of pleasure. This "play was being performed wlipu the recent terrible distmbanres broke out in St. Petersburg. It secured the applause of +he middle and lower classes, but ir so ennged officialdom that it has a good deal to do with Gorky's am-st. Indued, it would pcem to have leallv entanultd him in the political mealies, out of which all his friends and admireis so fervently trust to see him shortly dcliveied.

Genius .ilmobi. always tdL.es its possessor out of the beaten track. «• The Spokes- George Burrow took to the man of the road, not after the fashion 'Barefoot of Captain Hind and Claude Brig-ade."' Duval, but in the way of

the New Zealand swagman, seeking his fortune with a stick and a bundle. Gorky, a=> soon as he had leoched his JifhCiith year, seized every oppoitunily uf on tiamp and mingling v, itli

the 'beggars, thieves, and (tpihiis, vv-hoee famous ,«nd tbiiiling delineator lie subsequently became. In different fashion, but with the same intense enthusiasm and passionate earnestness William Booth has for the past 60 rears devoted his energies to championing the cause of the outcast and friendless. Once slandered and misunderstood. General Booth now commands universal respect and esteem : he has been received by the King and Queen, honoured by the President of the United States, and recognised by the crowned heads of Europe, until of all the countries of the world, Russia is the only one which denies an entrance to the organisation of which he is the originator and head. One of the events of his present visit to this colony is a leception to be tendered to him by ■ the Premier and the Ministry in V/ellington. Mr Secldon has never hesitated to express his admiration for the chaiacter and work of General Booth, and the General, on his part, has considerable respect for the Premier, so that the meeting should prove an interesting one. But perhaps the . most significant outcome of General Booth's jiresence in New Zealand is the overture made to him by Bishop Nevill, as Primate, for an alliance between the Anglican Church and the Salvation Army. More than twenty years ago the Church of England made similar advances to General Booth, but after considerable discussion between representatives of the two communions the project was abandoned on account of what appeared to be insuperable difficulties on both sides, and the Church Army was established in England to do within the pale of the Church the work which General Booth was doing outside. The Church Army, has, however, never gained a- footing in the colonies, although some more or less abortive attempts have been made to esablish it in Australia ; and doubtless Bishop Nevill feels the need of some such organisation. The attempt at union is a laudable one, but it remains to be seen whether Bishop Nevill will succeed where an English committee presided over by no less a light than Archbishop Benson failed. General Booth is in favour of a union which, whilst securing to the Salvation Army complete independence of action, will gain for it the moral and financial support of all the churches. He points to the needs of the suffering, the unfortunate, and the criminal all over the world, and appeals to the -hurdles to assist him in the gigantic work of rescue to which fie has set his hand. It is possible that the future development of the Salvation Army may largely proceed upon these lines. The increased activity of the churches in what may be called the purely religious sphere has caused that side of the Salvation Army's work to be considerably circumscribed. On the other hand the Army has so far specialised in what may be called its rescue work as to outdistanceall its competitors in this particular sphere. There is the possibility, therefore, of an alliance, offensive and defensive, between the Salvation Army and the churches, which will do something to lessen the injurious competition for congregations which undoubtedly goes on in the less populous parts of the colony. Let the Salvation Army surrender its outpost in the country districts, devoting its attention to its rescue and prison gat© homes ; and let the churches be content to support the Salvation Army financially, leaving the rescue work entirely in their hands. In this way much overlapping may be prevented, and the general efficiency of the Salvation Army and of the churches be greatly enhanced.