THE SKETCHER.

Otago Witness, Issue 3034, 8 May 1912, Page 75

THE SKETCHER.

« ONE LOOK BACK." Mr George Bussell has already taken his place among the most popular raconteurs of his time, and every succeeding Tolume of his is welcomed by a large body of readers. This latest volume ("One Look Back," by the Right Hon. Or. W E. Russell) is somewhat reminiscent and autobiographical, mainly concerned with the author's own adventures and experiences, spiritual and intellectual. At the same time, there crop up in the pages some of the many interesting men and women of the very interesting times in which we are living. Mr Russell, by his birth, his education, and his position in the social and political life of the country, has had innumerable opportunities ot meeting all those worth meeting; and, being the close and interested student he is of human character, he has sought these opportunities and made abundant use ot them. The result is that in addition to the study one finds of a very gifted mind in Mr Russell himself, there is a living picture of the men and women, and also of the manners and fashions, of our age. Though far from an old man, Mr Russell has yet lived through such periods oj rapid change that some of the things and the persons he describes seem to belong to a remote age. I suppcse that there are few subalterns in even the most fashionable regiment of to-day—now that we have competitive examinations— who could equal that astounding young soldier to whom the following incident happened:— "When my father was a cornet in the Blues he invited a brother officer to spend some of his leave at Woburn Abbey. One dav, when the weather was too bad for any kind of sport, the visitor was induced to have a look at the pictures. The Rembrandts, and Cuyps, and Van Dykes, and Sir Joshuas -bored him to extremity, but accidentally his eye lit on Hayter's famous picture of Lord Russell's trial, and, with a sudden gleam of intelligence, he exclaimed, 'Hullo! What's this? It looks like a trial.' My father answered, with modest pride, 'lt is a trial —the trial of my ancestor-, William Lord Bussell.' 'Good heavens! my dear fellow, an ancestor of yours tried? What a shocking thing ! I hope he got off.' " There is a picture of the home in which Mr Russell was brought up, which, 1 fancy, is scarcely like most of the homes of to-day in the same circles. Mr Russell's father was a remarkable man in his way, remembered still hy some old members of the House of Commons. He was the eon of the sixth Duke of Bedford, and he was born in Dublin Castle at the time when his father was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. Charles James Fox, who was one of the friends and associates of the Duke of Bedford, was to have been the godfather, but debt, drink, and overwork had brought that marvellous man to premature death. His nephew, Lord Holland, had to take over the responsibility, but recollection of the great Whig leader was preserved by the boy being called Charles James Fox, born in 1807 and lived till 1894. He takes his place, therefore, among those links with the past which sometimes remind us how near to us times often are that seem very remote. He remembered, for instance, an old Highlander who had been "out" with Prince Charles Edward in the rebellion of 1745, and Mr Russell's uncle. Lord John Russell, afterwards Earl Russell, who also lived to a great age, had a conversation with Napoidon when the fallen Emperor was in exile at Elba. That conversation is well worth looking up; it is to be found in Spencer Walpole's>*Life of Lord John Russell." One of the things I best remember is Napoleon's naif question to Lord John whether the English King did not fear that the Duke of Wellington—on account of his great name as a soldier—might not be a serious rival for the throne! It showed how limited the knowledge was of even the mighty genius—especially in regard to the country which he had been its chief and deadliest foe throughout 60 much of his career. —Frugality.— Mr Russell's father began life' as a soldier in the fashionable regiment of tho Blues. I do not find mentioned a fact which Mr Russell himself communicated to me in conversation—that his father was so sternly resolved on living within his income that even when thus a young subaltern in a fashionable regiment he used to breakfast off porridge; tea was then too dear fbr his purse. Indeed, tea is one of the signposts in the march of the United Kingdom towards better conditions of living. I myself can remember the time when it was considered a luxury for the poor among the peasantry. Nowadays the Irish peasants drink tea, and often some of the dearest tea in the market. .Lord Charles James Fox ultimately became Sergeant-at-Arms in the House of Commons, and held the office till 1875. Though not born in the precincts of the House of Commons, Mr Russell spent seVeral of his earliest years there, and thus was familiar with the scene, in which he was destined himself to play an honourable but too brief a part, from his childhood. The home of the Russells was what this age would call somewhat gloomy. The great upheaval which was produced by Newman and the Tractarians had not yet reached it during Mr Russell's boyhood, and his father belonged to the strictest sects of the Evangelicals—who were then th.» dominant section of the iMigHsh Church. Here ie Mr Eussell's description of his earliest environment: —"My home was intensely evangelical, and I lived from my earliest days in an atmosimeTO where ths solvation of individual soul was the supreme and cona'am concern of life. No form of worldliness entered into it, but it was full of good works, of social service, and of practical labour for tho poor. All life was lived, down to its

minutest detail, "as ever in the great task-Master's eye.' From our very earliest years we were taught the Bible, at first orally; and later on were encouraged to read it, by gifts of handsomely-bound copies." Side by side with this went on that other training in good works—without which all faith in any creed is dead, and I don't think anybody can read %he following words without a feeling of admiration and gratitude for the who created such a household-.--" While we were still very young children, we were carefully incited to acts of practical charity. We began by carrying dinners to the sick and aged poor; then we went on to reading hymns and bits of Bible to the blind and unlettered. As soon as we were old enough, we became teachers in Sunday Schools, and conducted classes and cottage meetings. From the very beginning we were taught to save up our money for good causes. Each of us had a 'missionary box,' and I remember another box in the counterfeit presentment of a Cothic Church, which received contributions for the Church Pastoral Aid Society. When, on an occasion of rare dissipation, I won some shillings at 'The Race Game,' they were impounded for the service of the C.MS." —Convention. — Turning to an entirely different subject, Mr Russell gives one of the many indications that show an England gradually emancipating herself from the circumambient gloom, which was one of the worst and most depressing featuresvin the beginning and middle of the last century. Convention and formalism extended, then, into every class of life, and found its expression even in the clothes men wore. Here is an amusing and instructive illustration of this feature of the Mid-Vic-torian era, drawn by the hand of the shrewd observer, whose pages we are reading together:—"When did doctors abandon black cloth, and betake themselves (like Newman, when he seceded to the ChuTch of Rome) to grey trousers? Not, I feel pretty sure, till the 'seventies were well advanosd. Quite certainly the first time that I ever fell into the hands of a moustached doctor was in 1877.) Everyone condemned the hirsute appendage as highly unprofessional, and when, soon after, the poor man found his way into a lunatic asylum, the neighbouring doctors of the older school said that they were not surprised; that 'there was a. bad family history'; and that he himself had shown marked signs of eccentricity. That meant the moustache, and nothing else." I remember that the same strict canons of funeral dress were extended to the judges, and even to the barristers. A judge who would appear in anything Jake coloured clothes would have been regarded 30 or 40 years ago as palpably penniless and briefless. The late MiFrank Hill, once the brilliant editor of tho Daily News, and one of the most mordant writers of his time, denounced the late Lord Cairns in one of his vitriolic essays because he used to dress like "a prosperous stockbroker," an observation the more remarkable in this instance, because Lorp>Cairns himself was of that somewhat robust, not to say dour, type of Protestantism which is to be found in the North of Ireland —whence he came. As to the barrister, he was supposed to be as clean-shaven as an actor, and there were judges even recently who, when their shocked eyes saw a barrister with a moustache, used to protest that they could not understand what the unfortunate man was saying because of the curtain over his mouth. One of the curious things Mr Russell tells about Mr Gladstone is that he also objected to the moustache in the case of the politician and the orator. Like the good old Tory he was, in all intimate affairs of life, Mr Gladstone looked a Middle- Yicio/- an to the end of his days, and indeed one cannot imagine Gladstone with anions tache and a beard. His objection to the moustache, however, was founded on a better reason than mere fashion. He held that it covered one of the most exnressive features of the face. In his case the observation was well founded, for who that ever saw Gladstone speaking can ever forget the extraordinary play of his large but beautifully-chiselled mouth, and how his lips could convey sarcasm, passion, and appeal? Disraeli. — Among the figures which everywhere met Mr Russell, when he was a young man in politics and in London socijey, was Disraeli, and he gives a very good description of the appearance of that strange and weird figure. Here is how he is described as he sat in the House of Lords after his elevation to the Peerage—a description which I can < orroborate from often having seen him there: "His strange apnearance—un-English features, corpse-like pallor, blackened locks, and piercing eyes—marked him out as someone quite aloof from the common population of the House of Lords. When he sat, silent and immovable, on his crimson bench, everyone kept watching him as though they were fascinated. When he rose to speak, there was strained and awe-stricken attention. His voice was deep, his utterance slow, his pronunciation rather affected. He had said in early life that there were two models of style for the two Houses of Parliament—for the Commons "Don Juan"; for the Lords " PaTadise Lost." As the youthful Disraeli, he had out-Juaned Juan; when, as the aged Bcaconsfield, he talked of ' stamping a deleterious doctrine with the reprobation of the Peers of England,' he appmached the dignity of the Miltonic Satan."

Mr Russell might, with advantage to his readers, have given some further intimate details of the last days of the strange figure that lies athwart the political and drab life of England with such glowing and exotic colour. I have often told of the Sunday during the height of the fierce controversy over the RuseoTurkish war when I saw DisTaeli taking a walk all by himself down Parliament street, and of his strange garb. He wore a blue coat, plaid trousers, and a coloured

waistcoat; for all the world, with his black locks and hie yellow-white face, and his strange and highly-coloured dress, like a king of the gipsies who had wandered for a while from his caravan in tho open fields into the haunts of ordinary man. There is this further interesting passage with regard to the great mystery-monger:—"lt was more obviously true of him than of most speakers that he ' listened to himself while he spoke,' and his. complete mastery of all the tricks of speech countervailed the decay of his physical powers. -tie had always known the value of an artificial pause, an effective hesitation, in heralding the apt word or the memorable phrase; and just at the close of his life he used the method with a striking though unrehearsed effect. On March 4, 1881, he was speaking in support of Lord Lytton's motion condemning the evacuation of Kandahar. 'My Lords,' he said, 'the key of India is not Merv, or Herat,, or"—here came a long pause, and rather painful anxiety in the audience; and then the quiet resumption of the thread —'lt is not the place of which I cannot recall the name—the key of India is London.' " Lord Salisbury.— Finally, there is this excellent description of the late Lord Salisbury as a sneaker:—"ln public speaking, Lord Salisbury seemed to be thinking aloud, and to be quite unconscious of his audience. Though he was saturated with hie subject, there was apparently no verbal preparation. Yet his diction was peculiarly apt and pointed. He never lcoked at a note; used no gestirre; scarcely raised or lowered his voice. But in a clear and penetrating monotone he uttered the workings of a profound and reflective mind, and the treasures of a vast experience. Though " massive, his style was never ponderous; and it was constantly lightened by the sallies of a pungent humour. In the debate on the second reading of the Home Rule Bill of 1893, Lord Ribblesdale, then recently converted from Unionism to Gladstonianism, and Master of the Buckhounds in the Liberal Government, had given the history of his mental change. In replying, Lord Salisbury said, ' The next speech, my Lords, was a confession. Confessions are always an interesting form of literature —from St. Augustine to Rousseau; from Rousseau to Lord Ribblesdale.' The House laughed, and the Master of the Buckhounds laughed with it." I have only dipped here and there into this volume, every page of which has some bright passage. I must leave the reader to make the further quest for himself: he will not be disappointed. —T.P.'s Weekly. ARTILLERY AIRSHSPS. RAPID DEVELOPMENT IN GERMANY. (By our Berlin Correspondent.) Contrary to general knowledge, both at home and obroad, it appears that progress of the most important character has taken place in the domain of German airships during the past six months. Spurred to new effort by international enthusiasm for the aeroplane, the designers and manufacturers of German dirigibles have redoubled their efforts to perfect existing and devise new apparatus, with the result, as I learn on incontrovertible and independent authority, that vessels of the Zeppelin, SiemensSchuckert, and Parseval types have now approached a state of development entirely unimagined 18 months ago. It is manifestly far beside the mark to assume that the fourth arm in Germany is of exclusively heavier-than-air equipment. It is to consist definitely of two branches—"cavalry" aeroplanes and "artillery" airships—with respectively the scouting and offensive functions which those designations imply. Neither the number of airships now in commission (roundly a dozen) por of those under construction or reconstruction (perhaps 13 or 18 more) compares in importance with the fact that improvement of most vital character has occurred in Germany in every essential department of airship navigation. In point of stamina, speed, manipulation, and carrying capacity —for passengers, fuel, and ammunition—

old difficulties have been overcome and new possibilities discovered. Nothing would be more fatuous, unbiassed experts assure me, than to imagine that the Kinderkrankheiten (children's illnesses), of which German airships have had rather more than their share, have at all arrested their progress or established their impracticability. The Germans look upon the wrecks of a dozen Zeppelins, Parsevals, and Grosses as invested experience of priceless value. Out of their twisted and tattered ruins have risen Phcenix-like practical lessons which have been turned to tangible account. —The New Possibilities.— Without desire to make any English flesh creep unnecessarily, but merely by way of graphic illustration, it may be stated that any one of several German airships already in existence could now, thanks to improvements effected since September, 1911, easily cross the North Sea and rain explosives on Portsmouth. Developments in speed and fuel-carrying capacity have snatched such a possibility from the realm of fancy and made it a realisable accomplishments. The most modern German vessels maintain a speed of 45 miles an hour without difficulty in a calm. Against a 30-niile-an-hour" wind they travel 25 miles an hour. Even with the' fuel ordinarily carried, these aerial Invincibles are able to continue on their way for 24 consecutive hours, though it is understood they can easily carry sufficient fuel for a 30-hour journey. Whether with or against the wind, it is obvious, they could cover a very considerable distance without intermediate landing. These, let it be noted, are not "window-dressing" claims, as they say in the city, but demonstrable and demonstrated facts. Mention has been made herein of onlv

three types of German dirigibles—viz., the Zeppelin "rigid," the Parseval "nonrigid," and the Siemens-Schuckert "semirigid." The once familiar "M" or military type, originally named after its distinguished inventor, j.uajor Gross, has practically fallen into disuse, though it is understood it may reappear in. some reconstructed design. The Gtoss vessels turned out to be fair-weather craft, and otherwise impracticable for military purposes. Tho army's intentions may be gauged, from the fact that neither the Zeppelin "dockyard" at Friedrichshafen, founded by national subscription cf £300,000 in 1908, nor the Siemens-Schuc-kert electric works at Nonnendamm-Ber-lin, is now permitted tojyjccept orders either from abroad or for private account at home. The Parseval, of which type the War Office has just accepted- the largest airship so far constsucted, is the only serviceable German dirigible whose makers are not yet tied to the Government. Parsevals have been built for the Russian and Austrian armies, and one is now on the "stocks" for Japan. —The Latest Parseval.— "P III," the new Parseval which has just passed into the possession of the army, was accepted after fulfilling splendidly the following trial conditions: A 16hour continuous flight from Berlin to Cologne and return, with seven passengers, 6601 b of petrol, 35001 b of benzine, and 22001 b of ballast and water. The trip took place on February 18. "P III" has a gas volume of 30,000 cubic metres, is propelled by two six-cylinder motors of 200 h.p. each, and measures 280 ft in length by 49ft in diameter. It is built for a speed of nules an hour. The epoch-making feats of Zeppelins are too familiar for recapitulation. The remorseless regularity with which all the earlier ships of the type were wrecked only served as an impetus to Count Zeppelin to surmount tho obstacles his disasters revealed.. The recent flights of the "SuperZeppelin" Schwaben showed that she has extraordinary mobility and solidity. Her long-distance cruises in September, October, and November revealed that her long-distance capabilities are no less remarkable. First she caano north from .Friedrichshafan to Berlin, via Gotha; then went back to Gotha and Dusseldorf; then from Dusseldorf to Berlin, with stops at Eremen and Hamburg en route, and made a farewell flight from Berlin to Gotha and Friedriohshafen. In none of these cruises was there a suggestion of the imperfections which make up the long story t>f Count Zeppelin's misfortunes. The newest Zeppelin, "Princess Victoria .Luure," is a 38-mile-an-hour ship. Tho (most powerful German dirigible, and socio think the all-round finest airship so far built in airy country, is tho 480 h.p. Siemens-Schuckert "non-rigid." This vessel has been seen making repeated flights above Berlin in adverse winds and weather. Sho ha 3 also, as a result of a long rest in "dock" for numerous alterations suggested by exhaustive trials, developed great speed powers. The SiemensSchuckert has a record of 45 miles an hour, taid has mad* 45 trips without an accident. —Travelling in Any Weather. — Very important improvement has been made in the manipulation and handling of German airships. Once out of their halls, they are now able to travel in any weather. Often during the past four months they have flown in rain, strong winds, and" freezing cold. The of getting vessels out of their halls is being overcome by constructing halls with exits at each end, or halls tumable by electricity. Perfection is also being attained in the art of emergency landing, especially by toe Parsevals. Halle, in some oasca for housing two vessels of the largest type, are springing up all Over the country. At present they exist at Berlin, Hamburg, Cologne, Frankfort on-the Main, Metz, Konigsberg, Baden-Baden, and Kiel. The last-named is a naval airship station, "> which is shortly to be duplicated at Heligoland. The fleet now in actual possession of the War Office includes 2 Zeppelins, 2 "M" (Gross} vessels, and 3 Parsevals. The privately-owned ships are 2 Zeppelins, 3 Parsevals, 1 Siemens-Schuckert, and 6 or 7 Pther types of more or less doubtful value. In process of construction or reconstruction are 2 Zeppelins, 3 or 4 Parsevals, and 4 "M."—-Fiu-oKiuc William Wile, in the Daily MaiK THE SEA OF GALILEF. WHERE CHRIST'S DTSCIPLES MENDED THEIR NETS. There are few more picturesque sights in the Holy Land than the primitive fish-ing-boats which may be seen upon tho waters cf the Sea of Galike. This historic lake in Northern Palestine is without question the most sacred sheet of water in the world. One has only to mention that on its shores stood Capernaum. Magdala, and Betbsaidat'o show its connection with the life of Christ. These historic waters, called the Sea of Chinhereth in the Old Testament, and referred to as the Lake of Genneserat, the Sea of Galilee, and the Sea of Tiberias in the New Testament, are now easily veached by rail from Haifa. Passengers leave the train at Semakh, at the southern extremity of the broad lake, whence ferry boats run to Tiberias, some four miles distant. This is to-day the largest arid most important town upon these waters, and with mosque, flatroofed houses synagogues, and massive walls and towers, it is truly Oriental in appearance. It has a population of about 5000, more than two-thirds of this number being Jews. —Tiberias.— Tiiis is remarkable when it is remembered that when Herod Antipas founded the city, when Christ was a boy t>f Naea reth, and called it Tiberias, after the Roman Emperor, the Jews refused to enter it. This was because the city was built on the site of tombs, thus rendering it

uncUan, and also because it contained a racecourse and a palace adorned with figur.-s of animals, which heathen architecture and works of ait were regarded by the Jews as an abomination. Antipas accordingly peopled it with a motley populace of foreigners and slaves. Notwithstanding this early Jewish prejudice, it became, after fcho destruction oi Jerusalem a city of Jewish learning. Talmudical studies are still ardently pursued here, and to-day Tiberias is one of the four sacred cities Of the Jews. Unfortunately, Tiberias, lying in a hollow, ip extremely hot, especially in vjmr nier. We found it quite warm enough m spring. Everyone makes his wny to the Greek convent, from which a magnificent view of the lake may be tiad. Pearshaped in design, it has a length, of 13 miles, and its greatest breadth, which ia from Magdala across* to Geresa on the east, is sis miles.' Its greatest depth ia about 150 ft, while its surface is no less than 680 ft below that of the Mediterranean. The Jordan enters as a muddy current at the north end and emerges at the south quite clear. The waters are sweet and cool, except in the neighbourhood of the hot springs, a little to the south of Tiberias, where they are un-. pleasant to the taste. . The waters abound now, as in the NewTestament times, with a variety of excellent fish, some of them being a species only found in the tropics. Of particular interest are the Chromis simonis, the male of which carries the eggs and the youne about in its mouth, and the Clarias macraS canthus, the coracinus of Josephus, and the barbur of the Arabs, which emits a sound. Two methods are resorted to for catching the fish—from boats and by han<J nets operated from the shore. The boats are decidedly primitive, being manned by four to six men, and boasting of a single sail. They leave the city wharf at sunset, returning at dawn with their catches, taken, of course, in large nets. This fish is sold direct from the boats or in the market place at Tiberias. Then, along the shores one may see in the early morning or lato afternoon the fishermen who work by themselves. These men possess a circular net of fine twine, small in the mesh and weighted with pieces of lead around its edges. To the centre of the net a long cord ia fastened. The fisherman holds the net over his left arm and wades waist-deep into the water as the waves roll on to the beach. Soon he'marks a shoal of fish swimming about. Stooping down so that he may not be seen, he creeps towards them or waits till they swim towards him. Then, with a swift, dexterous cast, he flings the circular net over the fish. The leaden weights sink swiftly and draw the ret over the fish. The fisherman pull* the rope and the leaden weights are drawn together, shutting the fish in the bag of the net. These men dispose of their catches in the near-by villages. —Surrounded by Ruins.— It seems a pity that, no effort is made to extend industry, for in the time of Christ the fishing here gave employment to thousands. Indeed, the appearance of the lake in tho*e days was quite different from what it is to-day. Then it was crowded with boats used for pleasure, merchandise, and fishing. So busy was it that Josephus ,was enabled at one time to gather together 320 boats at Tarlcacea (now a ruin called Kerak), and so numerous were those who took flight from Vespasian that he had to build a fleet to pursue them. Now its shores are dotted with ruins, the remains of once flourishing cities. For their historic associations these are certainly worth seeing, and in any case a trip around the lakp is a delightful experience. A few miles above Tiberias, on the west side, lies Mejdel, the ancient Magdala, the home of Mary Magdalene, and thought to be the Migdal-el-Joshua. All that remains of Magdala to-day is a few hovels. From here one sails along the Plain of Gennesaret, picturesque and beautiful, covered in spring with a carpet of flowers, to Capernaum, now called Tell Hum. This plain sinks precipitously to the water, and the wind rushes down over it with great force, so that, especially in early spring and late autumn, storms are very severe. —Capernaum. — Nothing remains to-day of the oncefavoured and populous city of Capernaum except a few scattered mud houses, a hospice belonging to the Franciscans, and a mass of ruins. These last are enclosed by a wall and belong to the monks. Excavations which promise valuable results are now being made. Among the ruins there is an ancient structure built of marble-like limestone. Large blocks formed the walls. Within are still tho bases of the columns, with richly-carved capitals, entablatures, and other fragments lying around. This is thought to be, by some, the ancient synagogue in which' Christ often preached. Not far from Capernaum is Bethsaida, the city of Andrew, Peter, and Philip. The name means "Home of Fish," and to this day fish abound in this portion of the lake, and can be seen swimming in the clear, shallow water of the beautiful little bay. Occasionally a native will come down to the water and obtain his supply of fish by throwing in r, hand net. The Germans have established a hospice at Bethsaida, but with the exception of this and a few scattered huts and an ancient sea wall, there is nothing of interest hero apart from the historical associations. —On the East 6ide.— Sailing past the inlet of the Jordan wo commence our return journey down tho eastern side of the lake. As we r>ear tho Wadi es Semak the hills again approach tho lake, and just beyond we reach the enclosed ruins of Kursi, which eome iQflolars have thought to be Gergesa or Gtdara, the scene of the deliverance of iha one possessed with the legion of d»vils and the destruction of the swine. There are near by "steep places" descending to tho lake which meet the requirements of the narrative. Proceeding southward, we

reach Kal'at el Husu, thought to be the ancient Gamala, the hill being described by Josephus as camel-shaped, and deriving its name from the Hebrew and Arabic word meaning camel. It is a position of great natural strategic strength, with preciptous sides, except on the east. There are here fairly extensive remains. We farther on pass the village of Samara, andl soon reach Samakh at the extreme south end of the lake, and, having circumnavigated the sacred sheet of water, dismiss our boatmen and return to Haifa by rail.—H.- J. S. "THE StRIAL LtTFER CO." RUN BY "MOLLY-MAKE-BELIEVE. When Carl Stanton was away from his work ill his heart turned for comfort to Cornelia. But Cornelia's letters "rustled net softly like a lady's skirts, but bleakly as an ice-storm in December woods." Here are two specimens of her frigidity : '•And in the third place, you ought to b 3 bright enough to comprehend by this time what I think about 'love-letters,' anyway. I have bold you once that I love you. and that ought to be enough. People like myself do not change." Heie' is a second sample. Cornelia had gone South, and she sends a post-card with this strongly emotional statement: "We went to see the ostrich farm yesterday. It was really very interesting.— When Stanton read this last he added, "She might at least have told me the :ii;ime of the ostrich!" If you read that very charming and original story, "Molly-Make-Believe," by Eleanor Hallowell Abbott (Heinmann), you will find that it was Cornelia who was the ostrich, for she was blind enough one day to enclose in a frigid note what she called "a ridiculous circular." "It seems to be rather your kind," she added. It was at this point that Stanton realised "with the ghasty grim shock" "that the woman whom he loved was not shy, but stingy." —The Circular. — Loft to his lonely thoughts, Stanton investigated the offer of "The Serial Letter Co." "Comfort and entertainment iurmshed for Invalids, Travellers, and all Lonely People," said the circular. "Real Letters from Imaginary Persons. Reliable- as your Daily Paper. Fanciful as your Favourite Story Magazine. Personal as a Message from your Best Friend, offering all the Satisfaction of receiving Letters with no Possible Obligation or even Opportunity of Answering them." Then followed a sample list which included "Letters' from a Japanese Fairy—-bi-weekly —especially acceptabls to a Sick Child";' "Letters from a Little Son—verv sturdy, slightly profane" ; "Letters from a Little Daughter—Quaint, Oldfashioned, Daintily Dreamy, mostly about Dolls." And so the list went on—letters to suit your every mood. But the item which attracted 'Stanton was the last, which offered "Love-letters Daily—three grades: Shy, Medium, and Very Intense." Then the circular added: "In ordering letters kindly state approximate age, prevalent tastes, and, in case of invalidism, the presumable severity of illness. For pricelist, etc., refer to opposite page. Address all communications to Serial Letter Co., Box ," etc. —Stanton Orders the Series. — iAs Stanton read he exclaimed: "All the same, I'll wager that there's an awfully decent little brain working away Behind all that red ink and nonsense" and so he sent off his order because Cornelia could not supply his need. To the Serial Letter Company he addressed himself brazenly "for the enclosed cheque—which you will notice doubles the amount of your advertised price—kindly enter my name for a six weeks' special 'edition de luxe' subscription to one of your love-letter serials (any old ardour that comes most convenient). Approximate age, 32; business tsatus, rubber broker; ° prevalent tastes, to be able to sit up and eat and drink and smoke and go to the office the way other fellows do; nature of illness, the meanest kind of rheumatism. Kindly deliver said letters as early and often as possible!— Very trulv vours, etc." The'first letter came, and began: "Dear Lad"—it was signed "Molly." "But I thought—thought it would be typewntten," he stammered miserably to himself. "I thought it would be a—be a—hectographed kind of a thing. Why, hang it all, it's a real letter! And when I doubled my cheque and called for a special edition de luxe, I wasn't silting up on my hind legs begging for real presents!" —Molly's First. — "Dear Lad," persisted the pleasant round, almost childish handwriting—- " Dear Lad, —I could have cried yesterday when I got your letter telling me how sick you were. Yes! But crying would not comfy you any, would it ? So just to send you right off quick, something to prove 'that I'm thinking of you, here's a great rollicking woolly wrapper to keep you snug and warm this very night. "I wonder if it would interest you any at all to know that it is made out of a mc&t larksome Outlaw up on my grandfather's sweet -meadowed farm —a really truly Black Sheep that I've raised all my own sweaters and nvttens on for the past five years. Only it takes two whole seasons to raise a blanket-wrapper, so please be awfully much delighted with it. And. oh Mr Sick Boy, when you look at the funny blurry colours couldn't you just please pretend that the tinge of green is the flavour of pleasant pastures and that the speck of red is the Cardinal Flower that blazed along the edge of the noisy brook? Good-bye till to-morrow.— Molly." —Rheumatic Night's Entertainment.— The next envelope had "three or four folded papers like sleeping-powders, all duly numbered, '1 a.m.,' '2 a.m.,' '3

' a.m.,' *4 a.m..' " and the covering letter ' contained this: "I'm going to evolve myself into a sort of Rheumatic Night's entertainment —for the sole and explicit purpose of trying to while away some of your long, dark hours. . . . "Do you dare smile and suggest for a m'oment that ju3t because of the Absence between us I cannot make myself vivid to you? Ho! Silly boy! *Don't you know that the plainest sort' of black ink I throbs more than some bleed, and the touch of the softest hand is a harsh caress I compared to the touch of a reasonably shrewd pen? Here—now I say—this very I moment: Lift this letter of mine to your i face and swear—if you're honestly able—- ' that t you can't smell the rose in my hair!" i It is obvious that this clever American story of less than 200 pages, read in a very short time, is a book of the 'heart—a sharp rebuke to the cold-hearted, and calculated to warm the very cockles of those who are warm-hearted. The devices used by the Serial Letter Company to entertain and cure the sick man are amusingly told and are of a most varied and unexpected nature—but aIL were calculated to make one wonder who so original a penman as "Molly-Make-Believe" really was. —"lt's Only Molly."— I One day there was a knock at the door, and in answer to Stanton's cheerful permission to enter there entered "a rather small feminine figure, very heavily muffled up in a great black cloak, who explained in an undeniably sweet little alto voice, ! "It's only Molly"" ! "You see it was just this way," explained the pleasant little voice. . . . "You paid me a lot of money—all in advance —for a six weeks' special edition de luxe Love-letter Serial. And I spent your money the day I got it; and., worse than that, I used it—long before I got it! And worst of all, I've got a chance now to go , home to-morrow for all the rest of the i winter. "You see, I still owe you a week's subscription, and- I can't refund the I money because I haven't got it. .And it happens that I can't run a fancy love- . letter business from the special house that 1 I'm going to. There aren't enough resources there—and all that. So I thought that perhaps—perhaps—considering how much you've been teasing and teasing to know who I was—l thought that perhaps if I came here this evening and let you really see me—that may be, you know—- | may be not positively, but just may be—you'd. be willing to call that equivalent to one week's subscription. Would you?" | "I guess I'm not a very —good busi- , ness manager," faltered trie red-lipped I voice with incongruous patihos. . . . , "Indeed, I know I'm not, because—well, because—the Serial Letter Company has 'gone broke' !" j The end to this tale is obvious. WHAT SYfDCALISM MEANS. THE NEW FORCE, Our objective begins to take shape befoTe your eyes—every industry thoroughly organised, in the first place, to fight to gain control of and then to administer that industry; co-ordination of all industries on a central production board, who . . . will issue its demands on the different departments of industry, leaving to the men themselves to determine under what conditions and how the work should be done. This would mean i>eal democracy in real life. . . So long as shareholders are permitted to continue their ownership or the State to administer on behalf of the shareholders, slavery and oppression are bound to be the rule in industry.— Syndicalist Pamphlet. Syndicalism—what is it'i What is this new doctrine that has lurked a sinister menace throughout each stage of tho present crisis. Its object and its methods can be stated very briefly. Its object is to destroy our present social system; to deprive the class that pays wages of its property and place it under the direct control of those who now receive wages, and to leave them to fix what work they shall do and how much they shall be paid. Its methods are : First: To capture the trade unions. Second: To organise them for strikes or other action as an army is organised for battle. Third: To declare general strikes, and to issue other commands to trade unionists that will cause the swift and permanent ruin of the wage-payers in any or every industry. Let us take the coal trade to illustrate how and where the Syndicalists wish to arrive. Without coal, they say, the State must die, just as the body dies without food. Very well; the Syndicalist commands that every miner shall stop working. There must be none of those local strikes in which miners were beaten because miners in other pits supplied the deficiency All miners must strike. They do—and the miners as a result obtain higher wages and drain as much of the coal-owners' profits as they can divert into their own channels. The coal-owner is injured, the unions are strengthened in confidence by their victory. Owners of other sources of wealth besides the coalfields are injured. Wage-earners in other industries are inspired to organise themselves for following the lead of the miners. —"The More Brutality the Better."— The Syndicalists do not rest content. Theirs is not the old trade unionism's ideal of securing peace. It is exactly the opposite. One victory is only valued in proportion as it encourages the wageearners to re-open the war. Another general strike comes when the Syndicalist generals see that it will most effectively cripple the coal-owner. No laws, no agreements, no conciliation boards, no sufferings among the people, will influence the Sydnicalist decisions. In fact, the more brutality the better; the more robbery the better. The strikes are ordered with the purpose of bleeding the mineowners of every farthing of their profits,

and, when the profits have disappeared, of so ruthlessly multiplying their losses that they will abandon the mines for ever. Ruin, not for a year of for a decade, but cureless ruin, will have been inflicted on the mining companies. The capitalist and the small shareholders who did not work in the mines but, drew dividends will have been cleared out. And now the whole of the money that is paid for coal at the pithead will go into the miner's pocket. He will pay his own wages. So the Syndicalist tells him. The miner will be the owner of the mine. The Socialist desires the mines to belong to the State and to be worked in the interests of the whole of the population. The 'Syndicalist regards State ownership as a more powerful tyranny than ownership by large capitalists and small shareholders. When the owners had been expropriated the Syndicalists would administer the business. "A statistical department to ascertin the needs of the people" is suggested in the Syndicalist circular recently spread among the South Wales unions. A "production board" would tell the men in the various branches what quantity of coal to dig, leaving to the men themselves ; to determine under what conditions and how the work should be done." And it should be noted, by the way, that Syndicalism does not depend on general strikes alone to transfer other men's property to the manual workers. Instead of strikes, or in addition to them, it would instruct the wage-earners to lessen their output, so that the capitalists' ruin might be hastened. The "production board," then, would not necessarily wait for the final catastrophe to capital before regulating the tonnage of coal mined! —How Syndicalism Began. — That is Sydnicalism. In his remarkable book "Syndicalism and Labour" (Murray), Sir Arthur Clay says the French word "Syndicalisme" is of recent origin. Even in France "Syndicalisme" has only lately stood for the new doctrine of robbery by strikes and' by reduced daily output. But the general strike, which is its chief weapon, discussed by the congress of the International Labour Association at Brussels in 1868. There it was declared that "it was only necessary for producers to cease to produce in order to make government impossible." In 1873 a congress of the Internationalists at Geneva recommended the organisation of Labour for a general strike on international lines. Sir Arthur Clay remarks that the idea had been vague in the minds of leaders of the proletariat : "It appears to have been an Anarchist of the nam© of Tortelier (a Parisian carpenter) who in 1888 first suggested its adoption as a definite policy." The Social Democratic followers of M. (j-uesde did not approve it, but they were routed, and at a point congress of trade unionists and Socialists, held at Nantes in 1894, " the policy of Syndicalism, or the ' general strike,' in opposition to that of the conquest of public powers by electoral methods, was adopted by 65 votes to 3Y, with nine abstentions." In the next. year the representatives of the same trade unions founded at Limoges the Confederation Generale du Travail, now the most prominent of all Syndicalist "bodies. It contrived the strike of French postal employees in 1909. Soon the Post Office was losing £40,000 a day, and 300,000 telegrams and 11,000,000 letters were undelivered. But a second strike was a fiasco, the Government having dealt severely with those who took partt in it. The next move of the Confederation" Generale du Travail was the railway strike of 1910. Again the Government won by military mobilisation of the strikers. In other European countries the Syndicalists have done some passing mischief. But their failures have been conspicuous enough to justify the hope that the British working man will distrust their cries for a class war. How do the Socialists- look upon Syndicalism? They, with the Anarchists, have one object in common. "To each," says Sir Arthur, " the destruction of the existing organisation of society is an indispensable preliminary. . . .It might be thought that the Syndicalist propaganda of revolution is so obviously opnosed to the object of State Socialists that the latter would make vigorous efforts to counteract it; but for the moment Syndicalists are valuable allies in attacking and disintegrating society." For the moment only. The Syndicalists would overthrow the State; the Socialists would make it supreme; and the leaders of English parliamentary Socialism can have no love for the Syndicalism which would dethrone them, destroy the authority of the State, and set back the Socialist cause immeasurably.—W. McCartney. ROAD-MAKING, At the Royal Institution (London) Sir John H. A. Maodonald, F.R.5.,. member of the Road Board, gave (says Engineering) a most interesting address on the past, present, and future of our Toads. It is, of course, a commonplace with those who have taken, the trouble to ascertain the facts that the dust nuisance is no new development. Bob Acres travelled to Bath " with a tail of dust as long as the Mall." On the Bath road, over which 140 mail coaches passed per day, pumps were provided every two miles to provide water for laying this dust. Then, as now, there were those who objected to speed as an evil in itself. Sir H. Parnell, the well-known authority on roads, writing in 1838, said that speeds of 25 to 30 miles an hour could not be justified, and that as there was no advantage in exceeding 10 miles an hour, railway -transit could not possibly pay, and thus "the cheaper method of using horse-power will be adopted." In the eighteenth century ruts were sometimes 4ft deep, and, indeed, it was not considered necessary to fill them in till the axles rounded. In 1737 it took two hours to drive from Kensington to Westminster.

The lecturer pointed out that the socalled Macadam road as now made was a misnomer. Macadam's ruling idea was to keep water out of the road-crust He broke his stones to l£in gauge, and required that they should be consolidated by the traffic. With the advent of the steam roller the use of water-binding became general, greatly to the disadvantage of the road. So long as a road thus made was merely damp, the lecturer said, it was fairlv satisfactory, but in wet weather water could get in where it had come out, and the mud soup originally used in binding the road was reproduced. In dry weather the binding was reduced in bulk and loosened by the loss of the water. The stones could, therefore, move, and were picked out of the surface, leaving hols for the entry of water. Roads being thus defective ab initio were incapable of withstanding the return of traffic to the highways, and a new method of construction had" become imperative, but, fortunately, this promised to be cheaper in the end than the old. The Thames Embankment, the speaker stated, was at one time one of the worst in the country. Last year, however, it never required watering during the whole of the long drought, although as many as 1600 vehicles per hour passed over it. Any water falling on it dried off quickly, without forming mud, and in fine weather there was practically no dust. In another 10 years, the speaker claimed, the mam roads would be' practically mudless and smooth. Their crust would be waterproof owing to the plastic binding used, and stones could be picked out of their matrix. Experience, the speaker stated, showed that such roads would last twice ;:s long as a water-bound road, which had no cohesion. There was, Sir John continued, reason to believe that still better results would be obtained by using, in conjunction with such plastic Bonders, stones much smaller than usual—much smaller, indeed, than Macadam's limit. Briquettes made up with small stones bound with a suitable material had proved to be of great strength. A nuestion now engaging attention was, the lecturer continued, that of providing an elastic skin or carpet to lie on top of the crust, and thus take the shocks of the traffic. Laboratory experiments, he stated, gave reason to believe that this woidd be accomplished. A layer of bitumen placed over the road crust would protect the latter from injury, and could itself easily be repaired as occasion required. This system of Toad construction was, he said, now about to be tested in actual service. QUEER WAYS OF THE HEATHEN CHINEE. THINGS NO TRAVELLER HAS SEEN. Nearly every scholar in China, after passing the so-called civil service examination, goes tinto politics as an official. For 15 years he nas been studying the classics, which teem with philosophic theories of governmental and social ethics. When he becomes an official he plunges at once into practical affairs, which keenly test both his theories and himself. City problems? asks Dr I. F. Junor, in an interesting paper on the subject. Any number of them; for Cliina is said to have had at one time, in her far west, a city of 13 million people. With her hundreds of walled cities, these men must have met and solved, with a fair degree of success, almost every city problem, else there would be no such peace and security as has prevailed within her borders, with a few great exceptions, for ages. In one little corner of this vast Empire, south-east from Amoy 100 miles, within an area of 100 square miles of mountain and beautiful river country, is to be found the most novel group of small walled cities in the world. Each contains a single family of several hundred persons. There are over 150 of these cities. Few travellers, or even few missionaries, have ever seen them. Walled Cities.—

Each city is contained within a circular wall of 600 ft to 1000 ft in circumference. The wails are 10ft thick and 60ft high. Against the wall on the inside are the houses—or, rather, the flats. They are four stories nigh, and have four tiers of verandahs, oft wide, all round the circle. Only the top story has any •windows looking outward. Some of these cities have double walls, encircling them. In the centre of the city is a large well 15ft wide and 30ft deep, covered with a great slab of granite, with three holes in it, which furnishes water for all domestic purposes. There is only one door for entrance and exit to the city, and in the largest of these cities this' door is peculiar. It it a double door, about 10ft high by 7ft wide, and is set in the wall on a bevel. One side is flush with the wall, while the other is sunk into it for a couple of feet. The reason for this is that when the city was built, in order to secure favourable " devil influence," the gate must point in a certain direction. Xot until after the hole for the door was finished was it discovered that this pointing was not exact. The difficulty, however, was solved and the spirits propitiated by putting the door itsolf on the b?vel that it might face the exact point of the compass. On the outside of the wall, and facing a lane, leading to an extra urban village, which had grown tin about it, stands a stone monument, with this inscription —" I bear the brunt of the tax." Liberally translated, this mears—"We will meet all the requirements of the- spirits." Communal Life.— The life in these- cities is directed by the head man, or father of the clan. The government is patriarchal. Each family has its own little farm in the fields aboujfc the city, and, of course, there are the various trades and occupations incidental to rural and urban life. Past the city runs a river, on the banks of which is a large market fot trade

and commerce among the people and with the outside world. The arrangement of marriages by gobetweens in China, and the commercial considerations therewith associated, tend to prevent extensive inter-marriage 6 between relatives and consequent deterioration of stock which would occur if sentimental relations alone prevailed. Life here is intense. All things work together harmoniously. Drunkenness is unknown. Immorality' is not in any way noticeable. There is, of course, poverty and wretchedness; but, on the surface at least, little is observed but earnest life, hard work, and great skill and courage in meeting and conquering all the ordinary ills of a simple life. A good story is told of the largest city, illustrative of the intensity of its communal life. It also illustrates a leading characteristic of the Chinese people generally. They never forget, and never cease to pursue 'a purpose. There were here two families, one of which, 30 years before, had borrowed from the other six pecks of rice. Of these only one peck had been returned. The debt wa6 never forgotten by either party. The son of one of them had embraced Christianity, and the son of the other realised that this fact rendered it an opportune time to present the bill for this long-standing debt, as the debtor probably would have few friends to defend him. The creditor shrewdly estimated that this five pecks of rice of 30 years ago was good seed rice, and, if planted, the yearly increase, counted during these successive years, would now total 2700 pecks. He thereupon presented a- bill for £2O. The reader may smile, but such claims are frequent. This one, however, precipitated a social convulsion in the city. After much talk to and fro, the case went to the head man of the city and the clan, and finally to arbitrators. These men decided that about 50s ought to satisfy the claim. T t ended, however, in the debtor having to leave the city, and in the creditor taking possession of his abandoned far-n End working it to recoup himself.