ON THE WHEEL.

Otago Witness, Issue 2857, 16 December 1908, Page 73

ON THE WHEEL.

Glowing midday in high' summer, and a young pair racing in the sun : light of heart, free of care, and full of fun — a day of bliss before them. Heat and dust are nothing, and piled-up clouds, that may disperse with thunder or fall in summer shower, are less than nothing to travellers bent on travel, attracted 'hither, thither, as mood or taste determine. .

On the road since early, hours, brown and tanned andf^muscular, they are whirling on for pure delight, the joy of freedom and of holiday. Hungry? No. Thirsty? No. Tired? Not until that splendid stretch be vanquished, that misty range take on an emerald robe, and home,, sweet home, be seen, and the good steel, steed leans in zig-zag fashion against the waiting porch. Whirled dustily along, Jhe tired wheel needs rest and possibly some restoration before its revolutions shall once again make haste, suggesting symbol for my parable, my homily, on speed : the too . swift passage of the hours, the fast revolving' seasons, which may appear to intermit, but run unceasingly to their fulfilment; and yet, the cycle whirling on with merry hearts above, in weather 4it to make brave holiday, racing down and charging up the hill, rounding curves and " turning arcs of triumph to a garden gate," does not quite fit my thought, — for joy and conquest ar<i not always traced by rapid progress, the restless round and frame of which each individual is the centre.

And so I seek another, still more composite, a bigger product of man's industry, involving wider interests, than the select and sweet companionship of two or more, in captains wi£h their forces uniting in a human hive, where many wheels do fly with gnome-like industry, suggesting perpetual motion. The motions magical of many linotype machines; the glittering rain-like drops of particles, which find their places with weird and infinite precision; the dexterous skill v/itli which the wonderful machine with parts innumerable performs its function with indefinable celerity seems marvellous and almost human; the click, click, click, snd whirr and birr, with broad and roiling pounds of banded wheels, without whose powerful control the whole had been but nil — those driving wheels, without whose force the fruits of intellect could not be cast abroad for popular consumption, are indeed bewildering, and suggest upon reflection a broader thought, a deeper view.

Have you ever seen a printing press, nne of the most up-to-date, in action, and iollowed part by part the multiplying process? To many it will be familiar, but there 'must be some who in this particular at least have missed an "education, a stimulus to thought, _and sympathy, and reverence which it so wonderfully "supplies, ' and which, if 1 may be mentor for the moment, should be missed no longer.

Piled-up inventions, discovery upon discovery, have marked in heavy score, until a triumph more than Cadmcau has been reached. To invent and to initiate the use of signs of import and of benefit untold to wide humanity was gift indeed, but day by day and hour by hour to place in black and white mosaic the i ountless doings of the day, to register '.lie temperature of trade and commerce :nd recount the facts of physical and moral progress, to record minutely the rdvance of science, requires a vast resource of which Boethius never dreamed and Cadmus was quite ignorant. Miles upon miles, of paper — tons' of metal — the nicest and most delicate adjustment- of parts which move harmoniously to an accompaniment of sound, which if not heard could never be imagined, must all contribute before with mighty travail and in many thousands the newspaper is born. The "molten silver of a seething fluid must meet and bathe the cylinders, thereafter taken to the engine, wherein are reeled the rolls which, passing through continuous processes, are printed, cut, and dropped, then caught by eager boys to shout and sell. But it is in the room wherein the "fusel metal" is scooped in vatsful by a son of Vulcan, wearyeyed, yet watchful, tall and muscular, that the man seems uppermost, the wheel subordinate. Notwithstanding fiery heat and piping atmosphere all is swilt and steady : strong arms everywhere in evidence, heavy footsteps treading down the refuse, grey and shining metal sheared as superfluous when the impression is secured.

Something in it all speaks most suggestively of suffeding and of fellowship, mysterious struggle and persistent effort. Mighty, moving force, producing the most minute and perfect detail, many means to one great end, united sacrifice of brain ; nd sinew to vast and perfect issue — well 1 say the strength of masses, the motor power" "nf joombinationj impress and chasten.

By way of contrast, painful though it be, and for further chastening- of spirits, lied, perchance, too closely to the present ;md its seductive) themes, let intervening centuries Ire past, while called to mind .-ire days of dark medievalism, when those of -whom the world was not worthy were put to torture "on the wheel"; when one whom neither grief nor death could conquer, with soul divinely steadfast, and btrengfchened by immortal love, cheered aad soothed the dying anguish of her Jgred husband. Gertrude, the devoted

pattern of superhuman love; — lady of sorrow and of loyal soul ! The mills of God grind slowly, but the grain is precious ; " The ploughing ot grief is deep, but less aftertimes would not suffice for the agriculture of God ; the potter's wheels, revolving, shape the fictile mass, incising here and there until the vessel fit and fair be ready for its maker's use.

"My days go on — my days go on, ' sings Mr Bro.vning; "I praise thee as the days go on," and Beatrice, whose "smile sat painted on her cheek," discoursing to the doubting Dante, holds high argument concerning heaven and Nature, and in circling wheels discovers noble order : The circle, whose swift course e^wheels The universal frame, answers to that Which is supreme in knowledge and in love. and teaches him in Paradise to say, From this realm Excluded, -chance no entrance here may find; -No more than hunger, thirst, or sorrow can. A law immutable hath 'stablisfced all, ; Nor is there aught thou seest that doth not

fit Exactly as the finger to the rin&.

We have touched without intending it upon the two extremes of direct woe and heavenly bliss. In Gertrude's anguish and the Holy rapture of the sainted Beatrice we find completed circle, ior love was theirs, and Heaven is love eternal. Both tasted of the depths, and rose to love supreme, and as Dante in that flame saw "other luminaries that coursed in circling motion, rapid more or less as their eternal vision each impels, ' may not simpler, but not necessarily less blessed, mortals learn with submission to accept our lot. with all the whirling changes that beset our sphere, in full belief that not it alone, but that the stars which sang rejoicing at its birth, declare with univeisal voice that wheeling space and ordered globe declare the glory ■of our God ?

But this is rare empyrean air— one cannot, always float. Life is practical and all-high; love will not permit us to forsake the sphere of duty. Hence doth heavenly justice Temper so evenly affection in. ua, It ne'er can warp to any wrongfulness. Of divers voices is sweet music made : So in our life the different degrees Kender sweet harmony among these wheels. High sweet strain in noble key — the key to which we might at this sweet season pray to keep in tune, still chiming to the echoing song of angels heralding the King. Another .year will start full soon upon its round, and if we have not learnt in vain, it should be nobler; if not more h»PPy- afe leasfc more 1 * richly blest. Meanwhile the spinning wheel of life makes music, rich harmony, if we will list'aiight — lull indeed if home and state conspire. The season pushes tc its prime, and earth grows fairer ; ' roses linger, and the air is full of melody; sorrow may lurk and sin sometimes be unashamed* but souls are pitiful, and the Eternal reigns. Mercy still sits between, Throned in celestial sheen. Human fingers seek in vain to sweep the spheric chord. Words are too poor, but the Natal Hymn soars upward, and Dante with far-seeing eye has searched horizons; yet is he told —

Alas! in sooth. Beating thy pennon*!, thinking to advance. Thou backward fall'st. Grace then must

first be gained. Here vigour failed the towering, fantasy; But yet the will roll'd onward, like n wheel In even motion, by the Love impelled That moves the sun in heaven and all the stars.