Topics of the Week.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIV, Issue VII, 17 February 1900, Page 301

Topics of the Week.

TOMMY AND COLONIAL. It has grieved a good many folks to learn on the authority of an Australian newspaper correspondent at the front that the colonial troops and the men of the regular army do not fraternise much. That is not quite how one imagined it would be. On the assumption that patriotism, such as is abroad now, like love, levels all ranks and conditions, we looked to see the British soldier and the Colonial volunteer on the most brotherly and affectionate terms ; not merely comrades in arms but comrades in one another's arms. I know for my part I had pictured all sorts of pretty scenes, quite suitable for reproduction as patriotic plates in five colours. And other people pictured them too, and depend upon it that when the war is over there will be many gorgeous lithographs in the shop windows and in the pictorial calendars for 1901, with Tommy Atkins and his Colonial cousin linked in sweetest union. There will be touching incidents innumerable ; as for instance “ Veteran of the such and sueh Brigade teaching colonial volunteer how to shoot Boers;” Kind Australian sharing his last pot of jam (home made) with Trooper Atkins;” “ Pitto shouting for the entire 63rd Regiment at the camp canteen,” and so forth. But, it is to be feared that the intimate cameraderie there depicted has as yet had no counterpart in the actual field. The Colonials do not fraternise, with the Tommies, is the dictum of the newspaper correspondent. Well, although it does awaken us somewhat rudely from our dream of fraternity and equality, there is some reason, when one comes to think the matter over, for this failure to amalgamate. One can understand that Tommy and the Colonial scarcely look at things with the same eyes. Drawn from two different classes, reared in totally different surroundings, with different ideals, purposes ami traditions in life, and suddenly brought together to a work to which the one is totally unused, is it strange that the Colonial and Tommy should not at once understand one another ’? There is just the

chanee too that the Colonial thinks himself socially a cut above the Tommy, as he undoubtedly is, and discourages the latter’s advances. One would imagine that a sense of their own military inexperience, and a desire to learn from those more familiar with fighting, would make our boys forget these differences in their social position. Apparently, however, the Colonial is burdened with no great sense of his want of knowledge. One correspondent writes that the eontin-g-ents have received so much taffy from the military authorities that they are getting as full of conceit and self-importance as an egg - is frill of meat. You can just, fancy what it must be like. No one ever taxed the New Zealand youth with overmodesty yet. He generally knows how to assess himself at full market, value with ten per cent, added. That our boys are entirely satisfied with the part they have taken in the war goes without saying-. That they regard themselves as the backbone of the British army also goes without saying. However the historians of the future choose to describe the war there will in this quarter of the world be but one authorised version of the cause of victory. We did it, we Australasians ! Naturally when a body of men get that idea firmly planted in their heads it tends to make them somewhat ’aughty and exclusive in their demea nour. 4- 4 4THE KISS OFFICIAL. What woman does not remember with fear and trembling the terrible punishment which poetic justice has decreed for the girl who gets a kiss and goes and tells her mother. Bow does the sentence run again : — “ She shall get her head cut off, She shall get her head cut off. She shall get her head cut off, Ami never get another.” Probably there is nothing so utterly awesome in the whole province of law as that reiterated sentence, and the added fine le which, ns it were, removes the very last ray of hope. The decapi-

tation is to be complete and irretrievable. I believe it was the early inculcation of that decree which accounts for the exemplary reticence of girls generally in this matter of kissing. You will hear folks say that they do not believe there is much clandestine osculation goes on between the girls and the boys. “ I am sure none of my girls would allow themselves to be kissed,” I have heard more than one mother declare. But do you think that with that awful threat ringing in their ears since their babyhood the girls are likely to tell their mammas everything? Even if they may not accept the sentence in all its hideous literalness, they cannot help having respect for the principle of silence it inculcates in certain vital moments of a girl's career. The overwhelming contempt which these simple lines, taken metaphorically, pour on the girl who goes and tells her mother when she is kissed is more than any maiden would dare to face. The position, however, is altogether different where the lady is a married woman. When a married woman gets a kiss — of course I mean a masculine kiss, not within the legalised limits —it is her first duty to go and tell not her mother only but her husband too, and probably the police to boot. If, however, she is merely asked for a kiss the case is by no means so serious, and it is quite an open question whether she should ventilate the matter publicly or not. A concrete example came before the public in Auckland the other day. The attendant at the Art Gallery, after showing a lady round, asked her when she was signing the visitors’ book to give him a kiss. The lady told her husband who complained to the authorities, and the result would most likely have been the prompt dismissal of the attendant had he not at once tendered his resignation. There is no little sympathy felt among the male part of the community for the man, who appears to have repented of his gallantry at once, for the same afternoon that he made the request he lodged a complaint against himself. Which of us has not felt on occasions a burning- desire to kiss a pretty face ? But we were worldly wise enough to refrain. Or to go further might I not ask which of us has not asked for a kiss where we had no right. ? And probably had there been any chance of trouble in the matter we would have been prepared to deny point blank that we were guilty of the indiscretion. But there was an honourable ingenuousness about our art friend. He confessed his fault and lost his situation, when possibly by prevarication he might have retained it. This circumstance, added to the fact that he was so imprudent as to ask for a kiss, suggests to my mind a simple and chivalric rather than a guileful soul. Still, for all that, I am quite able to understand the publie inconvenience, to call it by no other name, which must result from the employment of officials in public places who are liable to such attacks of the tender passion. Public officials do indeed take no end of liberties with the long-suffering public, but the kiss official has not yet been gazetted as among their perquisites. 4-4-4-THE CLOAK OF PATRIOTISM. The cloak of religion, antiquated and disreputable vestment though it is, has served the dishonest ends of too many people in this world io be thrown aside. It will always have a certain wide vogue. But another garment of a somewhat similar kind threatens to usurp its functions among us for the time at least. We must be on our guard against those who make a cloak of patriotism. The rogue who can don that mantle becomingly has indeed a rare chance in these days, when the singing of “The Absent-Minded Beggar” can produce a collection that would make the most eloquent preacher green with envy. You might say that for the moment patriotism and loyalty have become our religion.and any appeal that would be effectual in these days must be addressed to these sentiments. Two stowaways who were brought before the 11. M. in Auckland the other day, showed a perfect appreciation of the public temper- when they sought to avert the,arm of the low by declaring that they had come across from Syd-

ney in order to show their loyalty by joining the New Zealand Contingent. Hail it been an ordinary J.P. who was in the seat of Justice that day, it is not improbable that this exhibition of patriotism might have had the desired effect, and the offenders gone forth from the Court free; the tines having been-remitted, or perhaps paid by the admiring bench. But it happened to be the R.M. who was taking the cases, and he knew too wei" the ways of stowaways to be hoodwinked by these loyal asseverations. That however was an exceptional case. As a fact, we are glaringly susceptible to any appeal made to our patriotism and loyalty. Whatever the movement or whatever the object in which it is desired to enlist the public sympathy, there is no surer way to do so than by such an appeal. And it is by no means a difficult business to make use of that golden key to our generosity. The ladies of the Auckland Benevolent Society have shown their business acumen by borrowing it for their fete next month. The society is in very low water financially- just at present, and doubts whether an appeal on behalf of the poor and suffering who are its special care would move the multitude. So it has had recourse to tho sentiment of the hour, and has announced that half of the proceeds at the fete will be given to the war fund. I am not disposed to condemn this use of the patriotic cloak, nor indeed to say- much against others hardly so excusable. There have, I am told, been one or two cases where the attempt was made to create capital out of a mere display of patriotism. There is a rumour afloat about a certain gallant individual who offered his services to one of the contingents after he had made certain they would not be accepted. Some domestic trouble, I opine, a sense perhaps, which all men may have that their worth is not sufficiently appreciated, made this carpet warrior vow that he would go to the wars. No doubt he pictured to himself the consternation in his home when his distracted wife and relative read his name among the list of those who had volunteered for the front; their abject repentence for the way they had behaved towards him; their tears and entreaties to remain: and himself at a single step elevated to the highest niche in the family temple. If the* story is true. I should not wonder if that cunning gentleman realised his dream, and now poses as a hero of the very- first magnitude in the bosom of his family. 4- 4- 4 THE ABUSE OF CARICATURE. The grossly personal and abusive attacks of the French press on the Queen have derived u still more offensive character from the fact that the President has publicly decorated tho author of one of the vilest caricatures of Her Majest. While one is scarcely surprised at the, intense hatred oX England which sueh an act betokens, the execrable taste that permitted such a thing is unexpected. As a nation wo British have no right to object to being caricatured in a general way, for we are always quick to appreciate our own satirical peneillings of foreigners, their eccentricities and foibles; and we do not object. We laugh at those, hideous travesities of English features and English manners which are the delight of foreign caricaturists. Nor would it be Incoming iin us to take exception to sueh depictions where the Queen, as visible head of the Empire, is introduced by the satirist. How frequently do we not do the same with the Kaiser, for instance. When, however, tho caricaturist attacks a sovereign in his or her private capacity and makes his pencil an instrument of gross personal abuse there is good ground for complaint. This is what the French' caricaturists have been seeking to do. Finding that their country men's hunger for insult to hurl at the English could not be satisfied by anything they could produce within t'hc legitimate limits of their art. they descended to cowardly, personal at lucks on Her Majesty. The new departure delighted the French who, at once perceiving by the indignation expressed in England that the best way to wound the British nation was to strike unsparingly nt its Sovereign, made the very most of their discovery. In cooler moments t'hc French will probably recognise the mistake they have made in pandering to the lowest taste in caricature. Heaven forbid that the caricaturist's nrt should descend to such depths. It is in eonstunt peril of falling, however, and It is Only by refusing to cater for the

larger public that papers like “Punch’’ preserv e their hign standard. it is remarkable 'now little elevated the general public taste in caricature is. .Even in colonies, where good taste and correct artistic perception are by no means wanting, it is surprising to note the keen appreciation ot the lower, the weaker and inore vulgar forms of caricature. 1 have seen the crudest of sketches quite redeemed in the eyes of hundreds by their innate vulgarity. On the other hand, humour of the weakest description—t'he exaggeration of one part of a man’s body at the cost of the rest, for instance—seems in a picture to excite the risible faculties of scores of otherwise sensible people. The number of folks who can take pleasure in a vulgar or meaningless caricature Is certainly far larger than those who appreciate a coarse allusion or a weak pun, whatever the reason may be, and if the pictorial faculty were as widely developed as is the literary we might look. 1 think, for a corresponding fall in t'he prevailing standard of caricature. + ♦ + NOT WHAT IT ONCE WAS. There may have been a time when the position of a City Councillor here was a desirable one. and offered abundant compensation for the time spent in civic affairs. Cut every day the post is becoming less attractive' since those new organisations the Ratepayers Associations have come upon the scene. In rhe old days the Councillor was his -own master, and considering that he gave his services free he felt justified in regarding himself as free also. If he attended the meetings of the Council he always had an under■Lting sense that he was conferring a favour on the public, and he went about with a sense of creditorship which was not so unnatural. But the Ratepayers' Associations have taken quite another view of the Councillor's position, holding that by the mere fact of seeking and obtaining election he binds himself to work for the municipality just as if he were a paid official ; and the Associations, as representing the citizens, at once constitute themselves his masters. And vigilant masters they are too, who mark his every going and coming, and criticise everything he does. He is a marked man, shadowed, in all probability, to a more irksome degree than is a Parliamentary representative. It takes a man of no ordinary cireumspectness to feel entirely comfortable in such a situation. Of course he knows that it is only his public civic behaviour that is open to comment, and that no Association of Ratepayers has anything to do with his daily private waik and conversation. But still being the object of such close inspection, it is inevitable that his private life will be more open to comment that, that of other men. Such has been the experience of every Parliamentary candidate, many of whom have frequently found to their consternation that it'was as much their domestic as their political life that the constituencies made it their business to inquire into. Inconvenient to the Councillor as the somewhat inquisitorial character of these Ratepayers* Associations may lie, these organisations ought to have a beneficial effect on municipal government, and rescue the municipalities from falling under the fatal authority of such corrupt councils as exist in America. •1- + + ALAS FOR ST. VALENTINE. Boes anyone at all send valentines nowadays, or is the ancient custom dead at last'? As that Royal scamp, King Charles the Second’ observed apologetically with regard to himself, it has been “an unconscionable time in dying." but it would really seem as if St. Valentine will go out with the century. “Tempora mutantur, nos et mntamiir in Illis." These, mv masters, are the days of Rontgen rays and wireless telegraphy, of lightning expresses and of lyddite, and the foolish philanderings of our forefathers on the fourteenth of February can no longer lie allowed. We have no time for sentimentalities now. Lovemaking. like everything else, is done with promptness and dispatch, and is conducted on business-like principles. Me write no odes to our mistress' eyebrow. She prefers theatre tickets or ice cream. We do not, as our forebears did, address her as Phyllis or Amaryllis, since to do so would raise unjustified suspicions as to other girls in her practical mind, nor, to say the truth, should we ourselves manifest

gratification if she called us Corydon. If we carved -poems on trees after Orlando's fashion, we should be' “run in’" for destroying public or private property, and it is much to be doubted if our beloved would attempt to bail us out. No; it is au age of the strictly practical, and the valentine-—even the "ugly one"—has no place therein. The origin of Valentine’s Day is, by the way, somewhat of a mystery. Certainly. the poor martyr and saint who gave his name thereto had nothing to do with the exchange of love tokens, and gages' d’amour and the sweethearting customs which up till twenty years ago made the 14th of February the most important of the year to the gentle youth of Britain. St. Valentine, poor fellow, saw little of the brighter side of life, and probably never allowed a thought of love, so far as women were concerned, to cross the stern path of duty which ended with so terrible a death. He was an active and zealous Christian priest in the time of Claudius IL. and, being taken, was gradually beaten to death with elubs. wine and other restoratives being given whenever disolution seemed imminent so as to prolong the agony. When finally the poor tortured body could no longer contain the intrepid spirit an end was made with the executioner’s axe, his head being struck off. It is obvious the martyr had nothing to do with the softer rites of Valentine's Day, and these were probably the relies of the feast, Lupercalia, which was held in Rome about the middle of February. Of that feast, and of its rites, it is better not to speak. It was one long orgie of obscenity, vice, and drunkenness. The custom was kept up long after the introduction of Christianity, the priests finding it impossible to stop the license allowed by the day. So, after the wise fashion of the Catholic Church, they made the best of a bad job by minimising its evils and gradually reducing the license allowed, finally fathering the feast on to St. Valentine. Coming to valentines themselves, the absolute sending of the valentines between young people was quite a recent innovation, comparatively speaking, dating only from the days of cheaper postage. The ancient custom, which is centuries old, was that on St. Valentine's Day the young men and maidens foregathered on the village green, and each wrote a name on a slip of paper and put it in a box. The chosen, if he was accepted—that is, if he was also the chosen of his divinity—gave her a present, and as these were supposed to be of the utmost value within the giver’s means, they were, in the case of the higher born, often very costly. But the customs of St. Valentine's festival are only a portion of those which disappear with the nineteenth century. Where be our PaceEggers at Easter now, where our Waits at Christmas, who goes “a Maying” in our times, and what youngsters bob for apples on All Hallow's Eve? What maidens go supperless to bed on St. Agnes' Eve “and couch supine their beauties lily white" in the hopes of those “visions of delight,” and the “soft adorings from their loves,” of which Keats tells us? Nay, who even remembers to have pancakes on Shrove Tuesday, or to eat salt ling fish on Ash Wednesday? All such customs are being rapidly forgotten, or are already forgot. We have no time for such trivialities in these times of bustle and business. There is no monej- in them, and therefore they must go.