ANCHORED TO THE EARTH.

Otago Witness, 1 June 1910, Page 83

ANCHORED TO THE EARTH.

By N. Z.

Once on & time a certain Spectator standing in the S'tone Gallery of St. Paul’s, London, sighted a huge balloon, apparently in the throes of ascent. Pleased to have caught it in the very act, he watched it with interest. It floated and swayed and i swerved and swung, yet without rising and soaring, as he reasonably expected. How was it ! Why didn’t it do as all balloons should ? It was anchored to the Barth. This was no atrial barge launched heavenward for the voyage of eager sekrtist and public benefactor; it was—think of it!—merely an advertisement! Our Spectator did think of it—indignantly. He scorned to remark the particular brand of sauce labelled upon the giant bottle now dangling from its car. Disgust and disappointment seized him. Expecting to have witnessed the ascent of man, behold! the descent of sauce. Resentfully he tun ed his back, re-entered tbe Cathedral, wound his way down, down, down these many Kindred steps, quitted the building, and took refuge on a bench in cn» of those little gardens under the shelter of the great pile. His chin sank upon his cravat, his eyes upon the flagstones. That outrageous ballcon became to him a parable. There it was, a great vehicle afloat, capable of convoying intelligent beings far above the crowded ways of the world, to bear them swiftly to distant regions, and it was—the Cheat, itself anchored to the Barth. “ Anchored to tbs Earth! Anchored to the Earth!” he repeated “ rhat is why it cannot fulfil its promise.” He wordered whether the failure of that famous enterprise of his might be accounted for in some such way; that schema, which was to have brought easy competency to his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, uncles. an aunts, relations and friends! Expanded as it was by such commercial ability, such drsinteiested effort, such generous intention, why had it so hopelessly refused to “go”? After all, bad some unsuspected, sordid motive attaching to it kept it down, anchored it to the Earth ? And because no onj relishes personal application of unpalatable sauce he further wonders whether the failure of so many institutions to secure their purpose could- be explained likewise We have innumerable balloon associations, unions, societies, brotherhoods, sisterhoods, leagues, which remain marvellously near the spot from whence they were launched with so much inflation of gas, clamour of brass, and applause of multi" udes. Why do they still hover so near the surface of the globe instead of winning their flight to empyrean heights? Why has mankind received from them no permanent uplift? Anchored to the Earth! Our Spectator thinks of a book written by a gifted friend of his at the suggestion of a notable publisher—a book treating of a great subject in a style. Hew was it that it ' never went,” that no one was ever carried away by it? Why was it that, no afflatus of brilliant- reviews, no urgent motor of laudatory criticism could make it rise and soar and fulfil its promise? Was it, to, anchored? What invisible thrall of earth’s gravitation held it captive so near herself? And that fine character that he had watched develop from -childhood, that splendid young classmate of his—a genius at 20, iti 30 a very commonplace fellow; a hero t 25, a mean man at five-and-th.irty! How could it be? Surely there bad been levitative power sufficient in that character to speed its flight, far above the ordinary vays o~ men, and there it was — tethered! bowing and ducking, lunging and lurching, hut never mounting and sailing heavenward, all the paraphernalia prepared for swift flight diverted to contemptible, if lucrative, advertisement. Then that school which was to have realised the utmost visions of ardent educationalists, founded as it was—our Spectator had good reason to know—in the lov’ng devotion of noble women. Designed by specialists and experts inaugurated by highest dignatories, by prelates and potentates, surely it must wing its flight heavenward on the eager breath of saints, on the ferven; prayers of the pure? Just look t-t it, ' tugging at its moorings, rotating, oscillating, vibrating, making much movement, but no progress. Why? It is held down by small cords of small fears regarding “ public opinion,” by little terrors of “consequences,” by timid apprehensions of “ loss of patronage.” It cannot fulfil its purpose. It is anchored to the Earth. And matrimony—“ holy matrimony ” —that can begin in true love, continue in indifference, and end in aversion. How was it? This silken balloon with golden beltings and holiday trappings, projected amidst the ringing of joy-bells and laughter and congratulation and benediction. Why doesn’t it get awav' with its “happy young couple” on board? Alas! it is too often anchored to the Earth. Chains of selfishness, of despotic exactions, of unjust imaginings, hind it down to ignoble fields, keep it hanging within easy reach of the taunting finger and the impudent grimace of every foot passenger. “ How about that great American Republic?” ernestiens ou- Spectator. Splendid Balloon! Hasn’t it. had every chance to fulfil its -promise? The Sovereign people have their potent suffrage; and. has the voice of the people proved to be the Voice Devine? Isn’t that huge balloon still swinging remarkably r ear this old globe whence it was projected more than a century ago? Has it "realised the expectations of watching nations? Surely its specific contents are volatile enough, to guarantee ascension. Anchored to the Barth, surmises our Spectator, by cables of “ trusts ” and “ corners ” and “ Tammai y.” made fast by strong tackle of individual and class and party selfishness. And the great Piench Republic, with her terrible baptism and her heroic history! Isn’t she anchored to the Earth, far too near Paris, ever to rise and soar, .carrying all France with her? Then from things personal, things domestic, things scholastic, things politic to things ecclesiastic. How is it that the Church modern—Greek, Roman, and Protestant —appears to be pretty stationary? Does she not hold within her elastic orb spiritual energy, ethereal motor-power, divine dynamics, sufficient to impel her to lofty flight upwards, heavenwards? Is she also anchored to the Earth? Instead of cleaving celestial spaces has she found irresistible the unseen bonds of this world’s magnetism? She makes great efforts to get away- she plunges and pitches, and jerks and’g-vrat.es, and ’ leaps her cable’s length," but siho "k secured by strong cordage of human sufficiency, by ropes of race prejudice,

by mighty strands of priestcraft and hierarchical authority. "When will the Strong Hand release her and let her go free? "Well, well, well," mutters our Spectator, “ that sordid balloon has been a parable, indeed! What armies of balloons equipped tor lofty service are anchored to ’he Earth, retained by mercenaries for mere advertisement!’' Uprose our Spectator, left that little retreat of peace and shade and verdure, and, passing into the radiant sunshine of a May midday, vanished into Paternoster row muttering “Anchored to the Eiarth! Anchored to the Earth! Well, well!”