RANDOM SHOTS.

[By Zamiel.]

Some 'write, a neighbour's name to hi ■>, Some write—vain thought!—for need !,t\ i-wh Borne write to please tho country cluali. And raise a din. For mi, an aim I never fash— I write for fun.

Before this reaches tho eye of the reador, the curtain will have been rung up on the opening scene of tho legislative drama —or farce, as some people consider it —which is annually produced on tho boards of the champion wooden building at Wellington. It would be more strictly correct, perhaps, to say that the overture will have been per formed, in tho shape of the Gubernatorial pro cession and speech ; but what play will be produced still remains a profound mystery. Comedy is looked for to a certainty, if, Indeed, the screaming farce of " Turn Him Out" is not at once introduced to the ex clusion of other pabulum. Tho two Oppo sition loaders will, it is presumed, take part in the old play of " Tho Rivals^ " but there aro some sanguine enough to expect that the leading "star " —Major Atkinson —will make such a hit with " a New Way to Pay Old Debts" that he will drive all opposi ion out of the field. Others again favour ragedy, and hope that "Julius Seizer," with Vogel in the leading role, will take possession of the boards, and that the new "star' will gain the ascendancy over tho waning lustre of Ursa Major. Talking of Stars reminds mo that two of our leading politicians were lately compared to "planets in conjunction," and, with that simile in my mind, I have thought it would not be a bad notion to follow it out and take a SURVEY OF THE POLITICAL FIRMAMENT 'Twas in the year of '&i, all in the month of Juno. Star-gazing 'neath tho Southern Croaa I stood at Night's deep noon; For omens illlcd tho earth and sky such as had ne'er before . . Ferplexad the sage astrologers who deal in mystic lore. That bright star Ursa Major turned diinmorday by day, And scorned as from the firmament it soon would pass away; While paler grow tho lessor stnrs that round about it shono: E'en Roily looked quite Dickey, and dark grew Honest John! • ship of State, all tempest-tossed, might iounder in the night, no fixed star whereby to steer gave forth a beam of light; lie rising sun was slow to come and herald in the day. Though in tho East tho murky sky was soften ing into Grey! But sec, o'er Akaroa's heights, what rises? Is't the moon! No; 'tis the famed Montgomery—a kind of flro balloon That rises with inflated breast to scale the skies —perhaps; ut bursts like the ambitious frog, and sinks in dire collapse. rush, a glare, a fizzle next attract the gazer's eye, As swift a fiery meteor darts athwart the Southern sky. Wake, Jidda and woods, the sun appears 1 But no; the dream is o'er: The meteor dies and loaves the darkness deeper than before! Now from the North a star comes forth that makes all others pale: Tis tho comot called Sir Julius,' with shining golden tall— A wandering star, ho beams from far upon New Zealand's islo. And comes with bold erratic flight to cheor nS for a while! Of old the world's grey fathers viewed a comet's flight with awe— It seomed a monster to their sight, opposed to Nature's law; Eon now this dazzling stranger seems, to those who understand, A portent of impending doom and danger to our land. So o'er the far horizon's edge the anxious prophets gaze, And hang upon the dying light of Ursa Major's Soon they must die; and then what star shall gnido us ? who can say 1 At eventide it may bo light—c en In the gloam ing Groy! xxx Eneugh of doggerel, which may be ex cußable in the dog days, but certainly not in the present cold and bracing weather. While in Auckland, Major Atkinson treated his audience to a few reminiscences of the early days, and to bo reciprocal, I might treat the Major, along with my readers, to a little incident of those long past times, which he may probably have forgotten. The Other day I heard a gentleman, who was a fellow-paasengor of the Premier when he came to the colony, toll the tale which I now retail. The pood ship had a tedious voyage, and in order to beguilo the time the passengers engaged in various pas times—a favourite recreation among the men being a bout at fisticuffs. In ono of those friendly fights, my informant was pitted against Harry Albert, and tho Pre mier that was to be showed himself very ekilful of fence, and likewise very adroit at planting blows on his antagonist's dia phracm. The latter, indeed, began to think 0 that Harry Albert was planting these blows too freely, and in par ticular too vigorously to be consistent with the friendly character of the " set-to," and having his conjectures confirmed by noting a dangerous gleam in the eyes of his an tagonist, ha also awoke all his powers of Offence and defence, and in a short space knocked tho Major out of tune and made him sue for a cessation of hostilities. It is only, fair to say that, if tho Premier's version of the story could be «ot it would probably be found that "tho other mau was up the chimney.;' but the atory as it stands may servo to illustrate a well-marked foature in Major Atkinsons character, to wit, his capacity for " hard hitting." Many a time and oft have his opponents in the Parliamentary arena felt •theforco of his direct sledge-hammer style of retort, and not unfrequently hava re gretted that the rules of debate precluded them from returning tho blows. Ihe session which has just opened will doubt less give several opportunities for the Kalian* Major to display Ins fighting Sowers, and there need be no fear of his Eghtingfair, and always hitting above the bflt. I see be ha ß been '.' laying^up for a few days in preparation for thb coming fray, for which bis "stumping" of the, country was juat a sort of teaming. Though, ho may fight a losing: battje, ft* in that "set-to" on dup-boarS, he is sure to fight gamely, and " Zamiel" will not foil to note tho progress of the combat

X X X The philanthropic efforts of lady AvanEeliste who go into those regions termed <• back-slums" with the object of rawing the denizens to a higher plane of existence " r iesar«nf? of all commendation. The earnest demeanour smile. Such was .{he case a week or two ago, when one of the Usses of the Salvation Army made a visit to <t '"ishlv respectable "lane not more than 100 miles from High-street, Whilst the lady was passing along on her errand ot mtv, she met a man of very seedy appear ance, with his toes through their ancient covering, hie raiment crying out for the raemanf his hair a « standing •■ rebuke to tKrber, and his skin determined not'to submit to the smooth government of soap IndTater. Here was an opportunity for a tordfn season, and no mistake; accordingly the vounK lady seized it, and going up to the oWect which'as far as she couh! judge was of a man, she spoke to him conj J- i ? n C\m " After hearing these state- & t; aS &£» «*•" himself

X X X Our now Bankruptcy Act ia credited with haVing reduced the number of insolvencies in the colony ; so much so that in Wellmg- S£ffi& ■■ "shaky" commercially as it is geologically-then, has actually no Wn a single failure for a month. But It bankruptcif sare less in number they make up for it in intensity, or probably it is only Se full and free inquiry v.hich v now the f tLf brines out those sensational letups vMehlsed to be smothered and leatures vra working of the . new Si Actl sailto pfoduco the same jingiisn aw tendency is to make f SU, H> w discreditable and to maVe all KrujS faw S rm-t obnoxiouß, .In the DanKrupiA-j provision by Ol^- wlXtnte whose indebtedness & MS the position of Jttdg, of tl«

City of London Court. One of the appli cants was found to be owing over £100, so the judge told him he would have to "become bankrupt, and havo the felicity of paying his creditors with a bit of parch ment." In another case the learned judge incidentally remarked that the Bankruptcy Laws of England had long been a scandal, but the now Act, in some respects, made matters worse. Look at the case of " Bolt v. Lawes." There was a man spending enormous sums on lawyers, and now, when the day went against him, he quietly filed his petition, and would probably pay his honest creditors Gd in the pound. That was a specimen of the admirable working of English law'! (Laughter.)

In several recent Auckland bankruptcies we have seen how admirably the law works to proteqt scoundrels and victimise honest people, and there will bo littlo matter for wonder though tho public of the colony should demand the total repeal of all bank ruptcy laws as the best moans of securing honest trading and putting down the rash, if not criminal, spirit of speculation which is undermining the foundations of logiti mute business. Apropos of this subject, I see there has been an amusing correspon dence in a contemporary on tho subject of " the Jews," with special reforenco to their moiioy-lencling proclivities. It is stupid, it not spiteful, to charge upon the w'lole Jewish people the fins of one or two of the race, and reminds me strongly of tho Irish man who administered a severe drubbing to a son of Abraham " because he had holped to crucify the Saviour, be jabers I" In the Pennsylvania Senate lately, some equally ignorant and thoughtless remarks wcro made rogarding tho Jews, when Sonator Amorman (not a Jow) administered the fol lowing scathing rebuke to tho slanderers: — " Your poor-houses hold nono of these people, and you scorn them. Thoy aro not in your gaols and penitentiaries, and you taunt them with being dishonest. You have never been asked to drop a penny in charity in their palms, and you deride thorn. Tho Jewish people need no defence at my hands. Their history has been written and is being written in the enterprises of the world. From tho enrly dawn of civilisa tion they havo been in tho van. In litera ture and art and scionco they occupy no second place. In tinanco thoy lead the world. In benevolence and charity thoy put to shame those who attack them. Though a peoplo without a nation or a country of thoir own, their statesmanship has served and mado great nations under their leadership. Who will estimate what England today owes to her Jewish states men ? No ono can truthfully charge dis loyalty or cowardico upon this poople. Their blood aud their treasure are dedicated to the nation that protects them."

By the way, it is curious to note in con nection with the remarks on mastery of finance and statesmanship, that our own Julius Vogel, the "prince of financiers," and according to some people the only capable statesman New Zealand has pro duced, belengs to the despised race of " the Jewi."

Referring again to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the thought has struck me that there is an ex cellent opportunity for bringing its pro visions to bear on that inuch-draaded indi vidual, the Inspector of Nuisances. In his last report to the City Council, Mr Goldio stated, apparently without any compunc tion whatever, that ho had sold one dog and "drowned nine." At this rate tho numbor of canines despatched in a year would be considerable. All 1 can say in favour of tho authorities is, that it is most considerate on their part to submit tho unwitting creatures who are unfortunate enough to be motaphorcially "collared" because they are not literally collared to that method of shuffling off the mortal coil which is said to be the mildest, viz., by drowning; though let me state to those who aro sick of this vile world that I have never tried the pro cess, and therefore won't guaranteo it. Now, allowing that thero are many dogs who are not worth a collar, who howl and bark at everything and nothing, who turn their visago to space, and play on tho mid night air, and who consequently nlake the lords of creation say hard things which they otherwise would not do, what I want to know is, why the irresponsible dog should be made to pay tho penalty for tho breach of a law framed by man, and for tho in fringement of which, if anyone is re sponsible, it is man himself. The members of tho canine species are not capable of understanding tho law, and therefore cannot violato it.

Is this another expression of that law oi human nature which beams so benignantly on those born under the star of Bpauty, the star of Wealth, or tho star of Aristocracy; but which looks askance on those born under disadvantageous conditions ? If a poor canino has the misfortune to come of mongrel parents, this is not his fault; there are many specimens of humankind who are not of the " best breed," and yot these are not " abbreviated" for want of a collar with a number on it. Perhaps somo of my readors will think that I am placing tho dog above his natural sphere in thus advo cating Kis cause. My reply is that the dog has not tho ability to plead his rights himself, and therefore the responsibility resfp with man to treat hip kindly. Ob jection may be raised that if tho Inspector did not do away with unregistered and stray dogs we would be overrun by them; but here again tho onus can bo placed on man, for it is quite within his power to prevent, at least to a great extent, tho over-production of the species. My benevo lent heart hopeth that Mr Brassey will soon be on the tracks of tho Inspector, and that this gentloman will be made to show cause why he should have tho right and privilege (?) of regularly despatching tho innocent brutes under discussion. And then, taking a slightly prospective view, when we look forward to the time at which the canine race shall have developed _(a la Darwin) to the state which we now in our pride and vanity occupy—when, I say, the now down-trodden dog shall have reached this condition, won't he look back and bless those of us who have striven for his rights? Ah! won't ho?

It wasrathera back-handed slap in theface that Mr Thomas Cotter, as counsel for the Licensed Victuallers' Association, dealt to the genial lessee of the United Service Hotel on Monday last, in urging upon the Licensing Bench for City North the claims of that hotel to a 12 o'clock license. He pointed out that It adjoined the building known as Abbott's Opera House, where, ho said, nearly »U the theatrical performances eiven in this city took place, and that it was very rarely that any of these perfor mances concluded before 10 o'clock. Then, etriking a vein of humour, he went on to say that the people who frequented the enterprising "Boniface's Opera House very often required a stimulus in order to patiently sit out the amusement whiclv he provided for them there, and that at other times they needed something to render thera capable of appreciating it. Mr Abbot* Sid not appear to like this method of exporting .his claims to a 12 o'clock houaelicense, with sarcastic pleas antries as to the kind of theatrical faro upon which ho was accustomed to diet the playgoing public. The learned and astute aerate evidently also folt that ho was treading upon dangevoua ground, for ho suddenly dropped the subject and "sailed in baldheaded" for the temperance people. Everyone of course knew that these individuals of the cold.water per suasion had a great weakness for social gatherings, at whioh tea and coffee were the favourite beverages, and as these junketings usually lasted from 6 to 10, he took it that the patrons of them were desirous of confiniag dramatic performances within the same limits. HetWefore pro ceeded in well-rounded periods and with much indignation to protest against such tyrannicalpresumptionW tb ? part of a me?e section- ol thef community, It was aUto no purpose, However, ThoCommittee were inexorable, and the fwt ««»?»** went forth that thtfUnited Service, Uke all other.vlofcnftlling establishments of the same kin? should nightly plobo its doors at 10 o'clock',

I would remind Mr Abbott, however, that he need not,' on this account, clothe himself in sackcloth and ashes and sit down to mourn as those without hope. If he may no longer dispense "long sleevers and small drams to the thirsty frequenters of thTopera'House .after the play is over there is nothing at least to prevent his entranoe nto the tea and coffee, muffin and crumpet Hne of competition. Let him, then, before Bnternrisine teetotaller takes the 35! o^XTai.establisha.laceforthe io nf auch refreshment as needs the regu sale of aucn reire enactment. TISS »Si, Si.' 'to «**•»ofthe profit by it.

There are few persons, howarer'tiotisly disposed, who will not admit that the an niversary celebrations in Methodist Chapel* are uniformly tame and monotonous, with out either eloquence or instructiveness to make thorn specially interesting. There are tea and scones, and generally a few bunches of flowers, followed by speeche* and some half-dozen selected hymns. The same class of people is always in attend anco, and especiallly perceptible in a sly cor ner is unkempt Charley, who only sits under thehandsofthebarberonceayear. Occasion ally, frequently, a rev. punster enters the religious arena,'and makes a few telling jokes, which immediately are reflected back from a sedre of faces, to the evident satis faction of the rev. speaker, who feels that his temporary departure from solemn routine has had the effect of putting the majority of the audience in a good humour. I passed with the crowd the other evening into one of these meeting - houses, and listened to the addresses of several dark-robed, white cravatted teachers Some were dull.enough, while one of them sparkled with a kind of grim humour. " He spoke of the plough, anf uttered the ancient animal term, " Gee, woo," showing in these and other rustic terms that he was not un ucqainted with the lingo of agricultural Kngland, and possibly knew how to turn a straight furrow. He also used the words, "ohaw bacon," which set the larrikins at the door-most end of .the chapel into roars of laughter. Mr' Charles H. Spurgeon's humour is not of the highost type, out it lias served to immensely increase hi» popu larity. Bufc-this£imitutior must not hope to be equally successful in making exeur ions_into tho region of slang.

Tha last'speaker, who appeared as though grief was heavy at his heart, aud who had omitted to arrnngo his hair, mado a sad moss of spoaking. Tho previous speakors had exhausted tho subject upon which he intonded to dilate ; and so ho would toll, them a tale of his old mueic-toaeher (down South), which had tho pathetic effect of drawing numerous sighs from female hearts, and a score of pockotrhandkorchiefs from rustling drosses. Ono young lady ox elaiinod in an audible voice, "Poor man, how very sad." The, Htoi^, of which the following'id the substance, seems worthy of preservation in tho hall of Memory, and h hero presented to the readers of tho produc tions d'f ""Zmriiel :"—

The speaker told a serious tale,

From tho beginning to tho end, AboutaivduthtuGhrlatchuroh vale— Hii*i»ni&ic!-tcacher (tnil his friend.

His oarller years wero bright, said John, But, saddening thought, he (ell [n loyu, And a young lass ho thought upon. Forgetful of the things abovo.

He WltfSpergd in ucrJlßteolng par, '■ Will you. accept nio,«Mary Ami)" " Yes, sho ropliod, "my only dear, You aro indeed a nlco young man I'

But sho proved faint; with years' increase, And turned away without a smile; Whllo ho, poor lad, in quest of peace, Loft for a wild Pacific Islo. fli •■.!.. ■-.!.

Ho laboured 'mom? a dusky race, Afur from love and humun strife, An oxllo from his native placo. And there he closed his lonely life.

Oh I cruel, cruel, Mary Ann, How could you rotve your lover so) Your tears should 1111 a wator can, And liko a rivor frooly flow. XXX

Those amiable gentlomon who deal in " cent -per cent" have occupied a large share ot public ittontion of late—porhaps more than their importance to tho commun ity warrants; but I cannot refrain from quoting the following from an excellent letter which 1 havo roceived from "Ob server " on tho subject. Ho disclaims tho slightest sympathy with eithor borrower or lender, and adds:—"Where tho real evil comes in is to my mind when the so-called " victim " ha« to face his creditors. It may be that his schedule discloses a number of 'butchers', bakers', and candlestick makers ' legitimate creditors whoso profita, being comparatively small, are placed on the same footing with a number of money landing creditors in the distribution of whatever assats may remain out of the wreck. In this way the fair trader is placed at a groat disadvantage, and a case in point, of recent occurronco, whoro a throe months bill for £50 was discounted for i'.'iO, fully illustrates my view and Indi cates tho unfairness suggested. How far do theso money - lenders' facilities tond to encourage recklessness and folly, ending too ofton in uttor ruin and tho swoTling of tho criminal records ? Passing from the professional to the amateur money-londer, I am informed by tho soft goods irmn who rocontly experimented in monoy-lendiug without interest, security, or acknowledgment that the borrower is in error when ho states that ho paid for the receipt stamp. Tho stamp was provided by tho lender, who found himself poorer by a penny by the transaction, but richer in liis knowledge of human nature. Probably tho moral lesson doducible from all that has been written and said about raoney-londing was never better put than by Shakespeare when he wrote :—

Neither a borrower nor a londor be. + + +

Strange disclosures are occasionally made at creditors' meetings, and one of the stran gest that has come under my notice for a very considerable timo took place at a gathering of unfortunates the other day. It was asserted during the course of the dis cussion that one of our local lawyers has as clerk or apprentice in his office a real live Justice of tho Peace. Of course, the report cannot be tme. It ia absurd to think, for an instant, that it could. But suppose for a moment that it were. I wonder if tho eminent Juatiao of the Peace would presume to sit on the Bonch to adjudicate upon a case in which his em ployer was pleading. I scarcely think so, and yet, if he aid, is it not natural to supposo that his decision would have a slight—a very slight—leaning towards his employer's side? Probably it would, and possibly it would not. And yet what a grand business could a lawyer acquire who fiad a Justice of the Peace at his disposal to plant on the Bench when tho interests of his clients wero endangered. Of course, I am considering tho question from the abstract. I do not believe for a moment that Mr Macguiro is a clerk in Mr Brassey's office, and if he were, I cannot imagine that he would sit on the Bench when Mr Brassey was pleading. And yet the gentleman who made the statement at the meeting appeared to have giveh utterance to it in all good faith. My owh opinion is that if such a singular anomaly should ever exist in connection with the administration of justice, it would be tho duty of the local Law Society to make repre sentation to tho Minister of Justice on the subject.

Scientists affirm that gravitation is the most powerful law in the universe, and certainly the most sceptical will admit that the mighty force which chains the ocean to his bed and holds the numerous orbs which float through space in their respective spheres and orbits, is a power not to bo sneezed at by tho unini tiated. Hence, when gazing on the mighty firmament, wo recognise what has been appositely described as the poetry of motion; but it Copernicus, Tycho Braho, and Sir Isaac Newton could havo witnessed the great disturbance in those ordinary laws of science which took place on or about the first of May, when the spirits, at least all that were not in bond, made a simultaneous movement to the four winds of heaven, and were entertained by the frionds and relatives of the notorious Moore and Townshend, they would scarcely have credited the evidence of their senses. There may be, however, a solution of this difficult problem. The great upheavals in Nature which have taken place in the Straits of Bunda, and, in fact, in many other parts of the world, may have had something to do with the suspension of the ordiary laws of gravitation, and we may possibly witness upheavals and disclosures here. ' The peculiar phenomenon witnessed in the heavens about the time of sunset is a matter occasioning a considerable amount of speculation as to the oausps of its pro duction. lam of opinion that these strange appearances can be accounted for. It is a well-known fact that th,p existence of spirits does much to change the ordi nary state of' affairs, and their whole sale preferential and distribution may account for that which otherwise would be inexplicable. The quaffing of the nectar of tho gods in the various suburban villas, while it may create envy in the breasts of certain creditors, will also serve to throw a lurid light on mundane matters, and illus trate specifically how the oracle may be worked, ■

The Poet Laureate had just gone to lire near Blackdown, and one night he lost his way whilst rambling about. A woman standing at the door of a cottage did her best to put him right, and in doing so described one corner of his own house, saying, " You will see it as you turn the corner by a dump of yew trees. Someone's come to live there from Lunnon. They say he's a queer 'un. He's a actor, or does writin' or sumraat o' that pprt; but he's a queer 'un, 'c is. ITe goes about more like v beg gar nor anythin1 else." » Oh," said Tenny. eon; " have yojj seen him ?" " No, I oan't say as I've seen 'uaj; but that's what I hear. He goes about just for all like a beggar." .

EXPLORATION IN NEW GUINEA.

THE NATIVES OF NEW GUINEA, j [SI'HCIAIAY WIUTTKN FOR THE "STAU."] Murray Island, March 10, ISS4. ! SAVAGKDOM VEKSO.H CURISTENDOSI. I have choaon the heading of this paper of a fit subject for a few introductory remarks upon tho natives of N«w Guinea. Weal doubtless believe that we bolong to one of the most civilised natioim on the face of the earth ; that wo have xnado and are still making wonderful progress, and look down upon savages (some with pity, others with contempt, and many with indifference) as being far below us. Yet few seriously con^ eider amidst this intellectual and material advancement what is really the end aimed at. What is the ideally-perfect social state towards which mankind ever has been and still is tending ? There must be some goal, Boina state of perfection which we may novel reach, but to which all true progress must bring us nearer. Our boat thinkers main tain that" it is a state of individual freedom and 3olf-government, rendered possible by the equal development and juat balance of the intellectual, moral, and physical parts of our nature—a state in which we shall each be so perfectly fitted for social exist ence by knowing what is right, and at the same time feeling an irresistible impulse to do what we know to be right, that all lawi and all punishments shall be unnecessary. In such a state every man would have a suffi ciently well-balanced intellectual organisa tion to understand tho moral law in all its details, and would require no other motive but the free impulses of his own nature to obey that law." Now, where do we find tho nearest approach to such a perfeot social state ? Amongst savago or civilised nations ? Some say that it is to be found in one part and some in another of Christendom ; but who ever thinks of looking for such a state of things in Savagedom? and yet I do not hesitate to Bay that I have found the natives in the South Seas and New Guinea, in their low state of civilisation, approaohing nearor that ideal perfect social state. My object in this paper is to lead the reader to consider a few things which may be observed in each of these kingdoms worthy the attention of all who are interested in human progress. First, let us take A PEEP AT SAVAGEDOM. Many people form their opinion of Savagedom from the miserable hordes of natives that hang on the skirts of European settlements, loading a precarious and vaga bond existence. These are too commonly composed of degraded beings, corrupted and enfeebled by the vices of society without being benefited by its civilisation. Their .spirits are humiliated and debased by a sense of inferiority, and their native courage cowed and daunted by the superior know ledge and power of thpir enlightened neigh bours. Society has advanced upon them like one of those withering airs that will sometimes breed desolation over a whole region ot fertility. It has enervated their strength, multiplied their diseases, and added to their original barbarity the low vices of artificial life. It has given them a thousand superfluous wants, leading to selfishness, covetousness, and arousing the basest passions of the soul. They become drunken, indolent, feeble, thievish, and pusillanimous, In sarage life they were gentlemen, as far as having the moans to supply their wants goes tq make a gentlp man ; but in the face of civilisation they feel keenly their numerous wonts and ropine in. hopeless poverty, which, l}kp a panker of the mind, corrodes their spirits, and blights the free and noble qualities of their natures. Like vagrants they loiter about the settle ments, once their happy hunting grounds, now covered with spacious dwellings replete with elaborate comforts, which only render them sensible of the comparative wretched ness of their own condition. Luxury spreads its ample board before their eyes, but they are excluded from the banquet. Plenty revels over the fields, but they are starving in the midst of its abundance. The whole wilderness has blossomed into a garden, but they feel an reptiles that infest it. It is not amongst this class that we must look for the "noble savage " ; not where civilisation lias met him and clothed him in its most filthy garments, but in New Guinea, where tho natives are found in their primitive sim plicity, the undisputed lords of the soil, dis playing a proud independence, their lives void of care, and with little to exoite either ambition or jealousy, as they see everyone' around them sharing the same lot, enduring the same hardships, feeding on the same food, and arrayed in the same rude gar

tnents. They have no laws or. aw courts (so far as we know), but the pubiio opinion of the village froaly expressed. Each man respects tho rights of his fellow, and any infraction of those rights very rarely takes place. In theao communities all are nearly equal. There are none of thoeo wide dis tinctions of education and ignorance, wealth and poverty, master und sorvant, which aro the product of our civilisation. Thero is none of that widespread division of labour, which, while it inoioases wealth, produces alao conflicting interests. There is not that severe competition and struggle for existence, or for wealth, which the dense population of civilised countries inevitably created. All incitements to great crimes are thus wanting, and potty ones are sup pressed, partly by the influence of public opinion, but chiefly by that natural sense of justice, and of hiß neighbours' right, which Rooms to be in some degree inherent in every race of man. These remarks of course apply to separate communities. There are tribal warn aa in civilised countries, although the natives do not yet understand the art of wholesale slaughter as wo do, and, moreover, the man who make* the quarrel has to lead i» the fight. Still they consider it perfectly right to plunder and kill the enomy. Now look at CHRISTENDOM AND CIVILISATION. What do we find ? Take our country for example. Wo are the richest notion in the world, and yet one-twentieth of our popula tion (of eours* I am speaking of tho Old 3outiWy, which most of us still like to call iomeTare parish paupers, and one-thirtieth known criminals. Add to these the criminal! who escape detection, and the poor who livo mainly on private charity— which, according to Dr. Hawkesley, expends £7,000,000 sterling annually in London alone—and we may be sure that more than one-tenth! of our population are actually paupers or criminals. Each criminal coats us annually in our prisons more than the wagesof anhoneßtagricultural labour. We allow over 100,000 persons known to have no other means of subsistence but crime to remain at large and proy upon the com munity.' Yet wo like to boast of our rapid increase in wealth, nf our enormous com merce and gigantic manufactures, of our mechanical skill and scientific knowledge, of our high civilisation and Christianity, although, perhaps, it might be more justly termed a. state of social barbarism. Nearly all of us, I suppose, associate savages with dark skins, and seem to think that white savages cannot exist, but only people, who, if trouble enough were taken and money enough spent, would become, at loast to an endurable degree, civilised per sons. They do not wish, it is alleged, to be savages, and are only forced into that con dition by pressure of circumstances, lasting perhaps for generations. That comforting theory may of course be true, for we hardly know what effects generations of untoward circumstances will cause ; but those of us who have been behind the scenes in the South Sea Islands, New Guinea, and in Bpme of (ftp large pities in the Old Country, know very well there are thousands of per sona (and some of them well educated) who hate civilisation, with all its restraints, with a hatred which is incurable by any fear or any reward or any kind of Inspection, They are not criminals as a rule any more than the wild tribes are; but they are savages, loving abovo all things to live lives untram melled by the infinite Berks of minute restraints and obligations which go to make up civilisation. If the climate is cold they will wear clothes—they will hardly do that in warm climates—but that is the sole con- OOBsion they will make to the claims of civilisation. They don't care to clean any thing, or preserve anything, or provide for anything. It is useless to give them furni ture, for they prefer to camp j useless to store food for them, for they will consume it all at once. They will work when there is nothing to eat, but if they are full they abhor work until they are empty again. It ia possible to lire without wash ing, or decency, or furniture, or foresight, or care; and they prefer so to live, though tho result seems to the civilised unqualified misery and pain. They do not think it un qualified, but qualified very greatly by their freedom, holding only three things to be essential—food, sleep, and wives, and only three to bo luxuries—more food, drink, and tobacco, just as the millions do whom we all agree in Galling savages. I have no hesitation In pronouncing the savages o Christendom infinitely worse than those of heathendom, and infinitely more difficult to Improve.^ And whatever my views may be about the " development theory," I am forced from known oases, to admit the possibility of complete retrogression from a civilised state, although many writers deny it. And I believe that in every civilised aommunity there is » considerable per

ewituge of both men and-womon to whom the iirst condition of external civilisation— Hie incessant taking of minuto trouble—is utterly hateful, and who, if left to them selves, would not take it, but would prefer n condition of pure savagery. The rich, of course, seldom reveal this disposition, be cause othors tako the trouble for them ; but unskilled labourers in the Old Country, who earn possibly only twelve shillings a weok, who know nothing, and are pressed by no public opinion, are constantly tempted to throw off the burden of respectability, abandon furniture, give up the small decen cies and formalities of life, and camp in a room on straw, as uncleanly and nearly as free as savages would be. They live from hand to mouth, shift from room to room*, ara beypnd prosecution for money, dr(nk if they have the cash, smoko somehow whether they have it or not, and are perfectly indifferent to the opinion of 'society—are, in fact, savages. ■■•.-'•'' *•■•■, * A REMEDY. Now,',l can conceive but oiie remedy for this savagery wherever it exists," and that is religion—a pure, simple, elevating religion, like that of, Jqbus. Christ. :You cannot elevate savage tribes in heathendom, by giving them tomahawks and tobacco, beads and.blankets ; for they/will soon sell these, and even their food,1 for brandy; Nor can you elevate the savages of Christen dom by putting them j n good houses and providing tjiem with Honest work, for very soon your mbderiiou'ses'ii'ould bo like styes, and the honesfc work abandoned. My con tention is, however, that supposing both classes of savages to embrace the Gospel, those of heathendom find themselves nearer the goal which civilisation has been aiming at and striving for during many centuries. What we aro pleased to term civilisation generally begins in despotism, or, I might ovon say, in murder and plunder. A country is soized, the .lajidappropriated, and the natives subdued, and placed under laws. Then as, education advances, and the subdued'begin to feel their power, the struggle' begins, and goes on for apes be-1 tween Radicals and Conservatives ; the one trying to.regain the rjghtßiaud^aiberties of their .fathers, and thp ■ Qtlifcr,' trying to retain what was gained by conquest; All I can say is that I devoutly hopo that New Guinea may bo preserved from mich civilising influences. S. McFarlane.

OUR LONDON FLANEUR.

SOCIAL, THEATRICAL, and LITERARY,

" . London, April 4. Tiie death of the Duke of Albany has com pletely changed the prospects of the coming. London. .season. With Court mourning ordered up to thG 12th of May, and the Prince and Princess of Wales in retirement for some months to come, ifSwill bo quite impossible for society to entertain at all brilliantly. •-1 hear that some of the great families do not intend to open their doors at all this summer, others will not come up to town till after Whitsuntide. The feelings of regret for the young Prince's, death, and of sympathy for the Queen and the widowed Duchess, are very genuine and widespread. Passing Marlborough House on Saturday afternoon, I was amazed to see the long string of carriages containing ladies in deep mourning calling to leave cards of condolence on the Princess of Wales. Out side a small crowd had collected, and when any celebrity was recognised all hats were silently and respectfully lifted. Mrs Glad etono passed, looking very careworn, and Lady Dudley, buried in crape,' came out conversing in subdued tones with the Duchess of St. Albans.

The papers brim over with stories indica tive of Prince Leopold's character. The most interesting come from Oxford, whero he was extraordinarily popular. A fellow student describing this phase of his life, says : "We loved him because ho was him self always affablo and unassuming and thoughtful for others, ready to show his. photographs and pictures or sing or play tlio round gamo of cards which usually ended his dinner parties. Chess and baok gainmon were favourite games, nor was he a mean performer. Often he used to come; into the Union smoking-room at five o'clock for coffee and a game, and ho came and went here and everywhere else like other people." Another friend who had many oppor tunities of en joying his society says: " Much has been writton about the late Duke of Albany as regards his relation with the State, his interest in schemes for the publio bonolit, and tho assistance he was always ready to afford thorn ; but the kindness of his disposition and the geniality of his social life have been less dwelt upon than they deserve to be. The nature of the malady from which he suffered prevented him in a groat measure from pursuing those amusements which form tho pleasure, or perhaps tho mitigation, of tlio lives of princes, but they had less attraction for his nature than is usual. Without any of that pretence of 'culture' which nowadays .often exposes culture itself to ridi cule, he had an intelligent appreciation of tho fino arts. Be admired pictures and sculpture, was no contemptible judge of tliem, and he took a hospitable. pride in showing such examples of the art as he possessed to his many friends and visitors. He loved music, and could sing fairly well. .These tastes wore^heredUary, and shared more or less by all his family. Litoraturoi however, had an attraction for him which it has possessed for few men in his position. He was not, indeed, a student in the ordinary sense ; with science and philosophy he had but a bowing acquaint ance, but with that literature which, though depreciatingly termed 'light,' forms after all the chief charm of oxistence among edu-. cated people, he was widely acquainted. French and German were.as familiar to him as his native tongue; but English authors wero his favourites. Walter Scott was his chief literary hero, though not,', perhaps, altogether for literary reasons. I remember, after a visit to Sootland, his showing me, with great pride, a memento of the great novelist which had been given to him by tho then proprietress of Abbotsford. ' She asked me what I would like to have,' he said, ' ami I thought of tho bog-oak stick which Sir Walter brought with him from Ireland, and used for so many- years, and hero it is.' The fact of his being pecasion ally lame himself may have assisted the Duke in a choico the judiciousness of which, c«nsidering the richness of its alternatives, will be readily admitted; but it was the personal association —the true test of a lover of letters—that had mainly attracted him. Of later prose writers he most admired Thackeray, notwithstanding the fierce on slaught made by that satirist on the Royal Georges. He had a keen sonse of humour, though not of tho boisterous kind, which perhaps requires good health as well as good spirits for its appreciation ; and, as usual, there was a reverse to the medal. He liked the literature, if it was good of its kind, which deals with glamour and mystery. I well remember his delight in the works of Lefanu, to which I had the pleasure of in troducing him, especially in that marvellous collection of short stories entitled, 'In a Glass Darkly.' Nor was he averso to dis cuss in a natural and human manner the thorns of 'Fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute, with kindred spirits.' His views upon such matters were reverent, but large and liberal, and, on the whole, optimist. Ho sometimes showed signs of irritation, due to physical pain, which would cost him some effort to conceal, but he was very good-natured, avid, what is not quite the samo thing, kind-hearted. His memory for names and persons enjoyed by most of his royal race was extraordinary. As re gards the aristocracy, indeed, it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that ho was ac quainted with the history of every family of importance, root and branch. Ho aho re membered, when mon of even greater powers of mental retention have been known to forgot, the little peculiarities of Ins friends. Early hours are not generally kept in royal residences, and it is not usual to leave the host until ho thinks fit to retire; but when once tho Duko discovered that the practice was inconvenient to anyone, ho never forgot it, howevor long might bo the interval betwoen the visits of his guests. 'You are not a night bird,1 ho would kindly say to him, ' pray leave us when you feel inclined.' Though he could bo dignified enough on occasion, his air and speech were simple even to boyishness, and the same may be said of his private corres pondence, It is not unusual for royal por sonages to be gracious, but it is more rare with thorn to be genuine. .These honoured with the friendship of the Duke of Albany could disregard tho Psalmist's advice re specting the confidence to be repoge,d, in princes. As. regards his widow-ed Duchess, the sympathy felt for her by the whole nation is twice earned; in the first place by the suddenness of her misfortune, and secondly by a nature, I do believe, the sweetest and simplest that ever dwelt in one so highly placed," The luck which sometimes attends a theatrical manager in one of the oddest features of the profession, A comparative novice to the business leases a London theatre, and engages a scratch company. Everybody prophesies disaster, but disaster

never comes. Good piece aftor good piece falls into the Jfortu iato manager's hands ; hia company' is discovered to contain histrionic "gems of purest ray serene," who have hitherto been buried some where in the provinces, and lie him self is net down —or rather set up—as the , acutest and moat far-seoing of mankind. This goes on for years, perhaps. Mr Manager grows rich end ambitious ; builds a grand new theatre, fitted with every modern comfort and convenience; engages a powerful company, and prepares to amass yet moro money. Butlo ! the luck turns; nothing he can do is right. Play after play is produced, and fails, lhe leading lady engaged for months at a ruinous salary proves an absolute "frost.1 In a few short weeks Mr Manager drops thousands, and sees • bankruptcy staring him in the face. " What," he cries despair ingly, "have I done that all this should happen tome?" ■ The above description tallies pretty accurately with that of Edgar Bruce, the lessee of the new Princes Theatre, who, since he left the fortunate little house in Tottenham - street and engaged Miss Lingard, has been dropping the splendid receipts which Burnand's "The Colonel realised with startling rapidity. Last Saturday another new comedy was pro duced. It is called "The Private Secre tary " and pretends to be a free translation by Air C. H. Haw tree of a popular German play. The first scenes were a success, for the opening is as outrageously farcical as the most laughter-loving audience could desire. Douglas Cattermole, a young man living in chambers, has a rich uncle, who thinks it absolutely necessary as a part of his nephew's education that he shall "sow his wild oats." The only idea that comes into the ultra-respectable youth's head is to ruri up a few bills, but a friend in pecuniary embarrassment persuades him to personate a new private secretary of his uncle, a country tquire. They make the journey accordingly to Squire Marsden's,: leaving in Cattermole's chambers the real Simon Pure, a raw and spooney curate, who is' visited by Cattermole'a Indian uncle, and has a warm time, the old fellow being immensely disgusted with his supposed nephew's profession and manners. So far so good, but in the second act, which takes placeat Squire Mtivsden's country house, the wild fun of the opening fades away into mere boisterous cow-play, and all indica tions of plot disappear for ever. The main object of everybody appears to be to hide the luckless curate when he turns up (as of course he does) at a singularly inconvenient moinont. First he is shoved in a cupboard, then under a sofa, then into a large trunk in fact, the old practical jokes of several well known farces seem to have been resuscitated and made use of. A friendly first-night audience received this comedy with tepid applause, save when stirred to enthusiasm' by the splendid acting of Mr Beerbohm Tree, whose lean, lank, long-suffering; curate was a triumph of realism. Miss Lingard does not appear in "The Private Secretaryi" the principal femalo role being taken by Miss Tilbury, a daughter of Lydia; Thompson, and a very clever little girl. Mr Conyors Carr's dramatisation of "Colled Back " has (owing to the doubtful success of " The Private Secretary") again been' placed in active rehearsal. Kyrle Bellew will play the hero Yaughan, Beerbohm Tree the Italian Maiiari, and Mr Maclean Dr. Ceneri. The difficult role of Pauline may, in the absence of Miss Lingard, be attempted by Mies Arnold, a debutante of great promise. Her Majesty's Theatre, which is larger than Drury Lane and almost as big as Covent Garden, has been taken by Mr J. It. Taylor, who means to open it on Easter Monday'for a season of romantic drama at cheap prices. The stalls will be 5s instead of 10s, the dress circle 4s instead of ss, and above all there is to be a roomy and com-, fo-rtable eighteenpenny »it. The evergreen " Ticket of Leave Man," with Henry Neville in his original character of Bob Brierly, Amy Koselle as May Edwards, Arthur Stirling as Hawkeshaw, E. Righton as Mollir Moss, and pretty little Clara Yecks as Sam Willoughby, forms the initial bill of fare. Splendid scenery has been painted for the revival by Haweß Craven and Felbin, and some surprising realistic effects are promised. ' A " Theatrical and Musical Directory " which I happened to pick up at the Green Room Club one day last week contains some surprising statistics re English theatres and theatre-goers. It seems about £G,S2O per night, or £354,640 a year is spent by Londoners alone on theatre-go ing. We have 28 first-class houses in abso lute working order just now. Of these the Avenue holds 1,000 persons, valued at £•250 ; the Comedy, 1,500, worth £260 ; the-Court, which is a very small house, holding only 728, nevertheless yields £150, because of the many stalls, and tko same, remark applies to Toole's theatre, which can accommodate 900. The Brittania, a great house in the north of London, holds 2,972 ; the Critorion, 075 : the Gaiety, 1i243 ; the Globe, 940 ; the Haymarket, 940 ; the Lyceum, 1,445 ; the Olympic, 1,000 ; the Pavilion, 2,600 ; the Grand, at Islington, 3,0001 the Princesses, 2.G00; and Sadlers Wells, 2,500. In the provinces nearly every town of note now boasts two or three theatres, and some of them are as spacious and comfortable as our best metropolitan houses. The Grand at Leeds holds 8,200 (or as many as Drury Lane); the Grand at Glasgow, 4,000; the New Theatre, Birmingham, 5,000 (though ■itß receipts only amount to £100); and the Alexandra at Liverpool, 3,000. I have not much to say about books this week. The April magazines contain very little interesting matter. Hugh Conway (author of ."Called Back") sustains his reputation for mystic sensationalism by contributing a strange story, entitled "Paul Vargas," to the "English Illus trated Magazine," and the author of " John Herring" commences a somewhat repul sive romance, entitled "Margery of Quether," in the "Cornhill."' In the former, brain-waves, and in the latter an elderly monstrosity play important parts: '' Zero," Mrs Campbell Breed's weird Story of Monte Carlo,"' draws to a close in " Temple Bar," and will be published next week by Chapman and Hall. Mrs Oliphant's latest novel, " The Wizard's Son," is already out. I believe I mentioned this work favourably whilst it was running through "MacmHlan's." The commence ment was certainly singularly clever, but the end is most unsatisfactory. We learn nothing of the mysterious wizard who worked such woe to the Erradeen family, and are left wondering whether the author wishel him accepted as a common conjurer or as a "restless spirit returned from the grave. Nevertheless the story is one to be road; indeed, I shall not be surprised if it becomes one of the author's most popular works with people in general. Amongst cheap editions of note just out, I mast not forget to recommend to you the new five shilling issue of " Pretty Miss Neirlle," one of the best Anglo-Indian stories (save perhaps " The Dilemma " and " Chronicles of Dustypore") that I ever read. I can also.say a good word for Theo. Gift's "A Matter of Fact Girl" at 2s, and Julian Hawthorne's " Fortune's Fool" at 3s 6d. Miss Buxton's " Nell on and off the Stage " is really not worth reading, but all who take an interest in "Chinese Gordon" should purchase a succinct record of his doings by Archibald Forbes ; price, 3s 6d. Turning for a moment to the subject of music, I notice Tosti'a new songs, "At Vespers" and "Ask Me No More," are cordially eulogised by that somewhat captious critic, Louis Engel. Michael Watson's "Our Guards" must also bo growing in popularity, for three thousand copies have been ' sold since I last mentioned it to you. The dance music from "The Beggar Student" is already heard everywhere, a waltz, named "Laura," being speolally fanoiod. The groat comic songs of the day appear to be Macdermott's "Not Much," and James Fawn's "Is It Likely," both of which effu sions rely for popularity on a series of absurd questions, to which the audience rospond. Thus—

Singbk: Is it likely 1 Audience (yoUing): Oh dear, no! SiNGF.n : Not likely.? . . Audiiwce : Oh dear, no! Sinoeb : If from my wife away I roam, D'ye think I'm kissed when I go home? p Sin-ger: Isitlikoly?

Audience : Oh dear, no! Singer: Not likely 1 Audience : Oh dear, no! Singer : It isn't very likely, do you reajly think it is?

SOME NEWS OF THE WEEK.

[By Obk Londok Cokrespokdknt].

TIIK DEATH-DEALIMO EART WIND AND ITK VIC TIMS—DEATH of Charles Beads: A Few Facts About Him—An old Favourite Gone —Mrs Alfred Wigan — Pimmrose Day — "Ode to a Primrose" by the "Specta tor"— The Queen's Letter op Thanks— burqi.arß at home—stranok revelations by a Convict—A Swiss Poisoner : A Nine teenth Ckntury Brinvillikbh. London, April 24, We poor Londoners have been suffering during the past ten days from a terrible east wind, one of the bleakest, most search ing, and most marrow-chilling I ever re member to hav<j felt. The obituary column of the "Times" forma a striking record of the death-dealing powers of this eastest of Haster visitants. Charles Reade, Henry J. Byron, the Bishop of Ripon, Frank Green, Mrs Alfred Wigan, and the Duke of Buccleuch are a few of the most noted who succumbed to the weather, but tho list of wounded is longer still. To quote my ever-ready friend " Dagonet" " Everybody who is anybody seems to be ill. Now the bulletin is hopeful, now it is absolutely hopeless. Paragraphs an nouncing what Sir William This and Sir Andrew That think of the condition of their celebrated patients are dotted up and down the columns of the morning papers, and the summary of the day's news consists chiefly in records of the facts that So-and-so has been buried, So-and-So is dead, andSo-and- So has passed a bad night, and his condition causes his friends great anxiety." Death of Charles Reade. Poor Charles Reade had been ailing a long time indeed. He never wholly recovered the death of an adored woman friend two years ago. Opinions of him both as a man and an author seem to be strangely various. The most interesting obituary notice was from the pen of the author-poot-dramatist, Kobert Buchanan, and appeared in the always apropos "Pall Mall Gazette." Mr Buchanan is an enthusiastic adorer of i'uade, and prophesies him a permanent hold on novel-reading posterity, but less biassed critics seem doubtful on the point. An almost unanimous opinion appears to be that "The Cloister an.l the Hearth" was his best, as " Never Too Late to Mend" was hia. most popular novel. You colonists, in all probability, seldom £aw the eccentric epistles which Charles Reade from time to time addressed to the' newspapers on current topics. He loved to startle the world, and was never so pleased as when by truculently laying down some apparently wholly untenable theory he could provoke " a foeman worthy of his steel" to' literary warfare. Then woe betide the unwary adversary. Reade's vocabulary was fearfully and wonderfully comprehen sive, and his keen incisive sentences cut like a knife. He used to say he hated fine writing, but no man resorted _to refined Billingsgate more frequently; indeed, his abusive epithets (usually self-coined) would silence all but the boldest. Mr Labouchere, speaking of the deceased novelist, says:—"Whenever Mr Charles Reade was angry he would pen the most violent epistles to the object of his anger, but in his private relations a more kind, courteous, and considerate man never >reathed. It was difficult to realise that the soft-toned, soft-hearted gentleman could be the author of the fiery missives that psriodically appeared in the press. As a •writerhe had always a mission, and although he looked well after his rights he' never weighed popularity _ against principle. I remember once sitting with him in a box during the first night of one of his plays. It was a failure, and the audience was beginning to hiss. ' I am afraid,' said the despairing manager, ' that the play is not meeting with universal approval.' 'If you wished,' said Mr Reade, «for a play likely to pleaso an audience, you should not have asked me to write one for you,1" Edmund Yates, less charitable than his' friend " Henry," thinks Reade deliberately posed as an eccentric, and tolls how he surprised and out vaeed the old fogies of the original (Jarriek Club by parading that august establishment in a pair of worn list slippers, which he ex changed for his boots in. a never used card room at the top of the house. "AH his wild explosions of printed rage against his cr-itios, or those who accused him of pla giarism, or those who stole his plays, were," says Mr Yatea, "really mere business advertisements, for by nature as by prac tice he was a most kindly man." Mrs Alfred Wigan. Mrs Alfred Wigan was, I'm afraid, wholly unknown as an actress in the Colonies, but some of you who lived in London when Alfred Wigan and Charles Matthews were the great comedians of tho day may re member her wonderful performance of "Mrs Sternhold" in "Still Watere Run Deep," and of an artful spinster In "The Berigal Tiger." ■ PrimrosoDay. Last Saturday was the second anniversary of Lord Beaeonsfield's death, and in remem brance thereof all good and true Tories de corated themselves with button-holes of primroses. • I vas amazed to see -how numerous these badges were. If the list can be relied upon, three-fifths of middle class London must be rampantly Conserva tive, and yet politic statisticians assure us differently. The " Spectator" (the great Liberal weekly) signalised the occasion by printing the following "Ode to a Prim rose ;" " Little rustic flower, in thee Emblem of true Ben we see. Artless, modest (such was lie), Full of Bweet simplicity; Softly, innocently wild; Nature's unassuming child. Harts't thou not before been known, By his Tomb thou mußt have grown, And some new Ovid Bung of this "Lovely metamorphosis. - Fragrant, humble, tender blossom, Fit for every Tory, bosom." The Queen's Letter ot Thanhs. The following graceful letter of thanks from the Queen to her subjects ha& every where been received with something more than satisfaction. Is is addressed to the Home Secretary, Sir W. V. Harcourt. " Windsor Castle, April 14, 1884. " I have on several previous occasions given personal expression to. m.y deep sense of the loving sympathy and i loyalty of my subjects in alt parts of my Empire. I wish, therefore, in my present grerious bereavement, to thank them most: warmly for the very gratifying manner in which they have showu, not only their sympathy with me, and my dear, so deeply afflicted. daughter-in-law, and my other children, but also their high appreciation of my be loved son's great qualities of head and heart, and of the loss he is to the country and to me. " The affectionate sympathy of my loyal people, which has never failed me in weal or woe, is very soothing to my heart. Though much shaken and serely afflicted by the many sorrows and trials whioh hare fallen upon me during these past years, I will not lose courage, and with the help of Him who has never forsaken me will strive to labour on, for the sake of my children, and for the good of the country I love so well, as long as I can. "My dear daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Albany, who bears her terrible misfor tune with the most admirable, touohing, and unmurmuring resignation to the will of God, is also deeply gratified by the universal sympathy and kind feeling evinced towards her. "I would wish, in conclusion, to express my gratitude to all other countries for their sympathy, above all to the neighbouring one, where my beloved son breathed his last, and for the great respect and kind ness shown on that mournful occasion. "Victoria, R. & I," ;

THE UNIVERSITY BOAT RACE.

The Light Bluet Win. '■•••>

(PROM OUH LONDON COREESPONDENT.)

.London, April 10. Very rarely has a University boat race been rowed upon the Thames surrounded by prosjaecte as dull and unpromising as tnoae which ushered in the event of Monday last. It was, indeed, a miserable morning— cold, damp, and raining fast. looking out of the window one felt far more inclined to stay at hom.e and sit by the firo than ta <'trapeze" down to Hammer smith. Duty, -however, must, a^ every body fcnows, takes precedence of pleasure ; consequently, half • past eleven o'clock found me standing, waterproofed without and ■well warmed with nun-acd-milk within, an the press boat at Pqtneyj Comparatively few people had assembled to witness the start, and the river banks presented an aspect of utter cheerleHsness and discomfort. The race, under ordinary circumstances, has completely distanced the Derby as .the great holiday* of Lon* doners. Not only is the number of specta tors (extending along four miles of water way) far greater-, but it excite* a stronger individual interest, " Ifor weeks, before th §vent the" accountsof the doings of the rivt

crews aro eagerly scanned, and each JB| ' '% Universities has partisans and baWl 1 amongsHensofthousandsofmen whoseßß | as to the geographical position o£ng|, : | Universities themselves are vague idHtf 1 extreme. With Cockney London ■■■■ffi^j Light Blues always have boen, mskk j still are, prime favourites. The bnllHLi classes seem generally to . favjffiaH Dark Blue rosettes, but 'Arry JHfoj 'Arriet and Tom arid 'Liza invariably apisHM resplondently decorated with the coloursMpj* 1 Cambridge. This year the light bluea more champions than ever, though a -whaBTJ some dread (inspired, by the "wK4 successive victories of Oxford) preveMjif 1 much general betting. The talk on jHp press boat was that Oxford would winHJi No. 2 did not break down, and that in MB case the race would be a close one. |Mt Betting ruled at 5 to 4 on CambridflK but there was far less speculation than^Bf the case last year, when people tumMpjs.. over one another to lay 4 to 1 on the LW|; Blues. Evidently the ghastly way |U "pot boiled over" on that occasion was fwJjy? fresh in their memories. At 12 o'clock JBJp umpire gave the signal to start. CambnopBv got the best of it, and from that momOM; up to the finish Oxford could never quail overhaul their opponents. Once or twicja.Bß; valiant attempt was made, and at HammatjSg smith tie race seemed go open that the oqa«| onboard our boat were absolutely favouratjUM|| to the Dark Blues. Long before Bar«BB came into view, however, we hadalldecicfßJj| Cambridge would win, and oifers to lay 3NH|. 1 on them (after being taken once or twi^BM were disregarded. The Light Blues evettßM ually passed the winning post 2£ lengthsfi^p front of the Oxonians, the.time; 21 nuns. HI sees., being only moderately good. I beaMßt a swell 'Varsity oar say the Oxford^ miißJ were stale (or in other words over-trainedj^B, and that this lost them the victory. UnBBI the other hand Cambridge had the race iUBM hand a quarter of a mile from the fini?h<BJj and in the opinion of many could as easiljgßß have won by half a dozen lengths as two.C;Hj|'; For the benefit of those interested in boat|HJ ing, I append a technical report of the racjfMß from the "Sporting Life:"—"lt was «B splendid start, doth crews leaving thostakeßßJ boats as if clipped from a leash. There waslflj of course, the usual jostling between tho^B steamboats, and before they were well undorl w weigh the racing boats were quite 100 yards™ ahead, co it was impossible to judge verjrjflj accurately their positions. Borne thpughfcpß Oxford led for Abe first three or four strokes, BJ and others thft Cambridge led from thejßJ word" Go !" to the finish. Anyhow, Ox-M ford rowed 40 strokes the first minute, onJ ■ Cambridge 39, and there was more Bteadi-ij;BJ ness and the work was shared more equally ■■ in the Cambridge boat than was observableßi in the Oxford,: although the representatives BJ of the Isis improved in their form after,B| clearing the Creek, where they rowed 38 BJ and stroke for stroke with Cambridge. !BJ Inch by inch, however, the Light Blues ■ were drawing ahead, and the people aahoro fl| and afloat shouted frantically "Oxford!" "Ms " Cambridge!" It waß a tough job, and the -BE enthusiasm doubtless imparted spirit to the BJ oarsmen, and stimulated some to over-exor- H tion. Despite the most strenuous efforts, HE however, Oxford failed to gain upon Cam- W bridge, who at the top of the concrete wall Bj were as nearly as possible a length ahead. Hj Up to this point the two crews had kept Bj somewhat wide apart, but now they were m closer, Oxford having steered slightly to- JH wards their opponents. In crossing over, \m however, Cambridge, so soon as they were in in the centre of the river, headed straight M up the stream, and before the Oxonians M followed suit they were once tt.ow tfl wide apart. The raoe from this point I to Hammersmith Bridge was a most' ■ exciting one, for Oxford began to B hold Cambridge, and there was, a slight fl nrospect that after all they might row the JI jight Blues down. Ocoossionally there was I daylight between the two boats, and at times "I they were overlapping; but, despite many H >lucky spurts on the part of Curry, he fl failed to gain any material advantage, for ! ?! no sooner did he improve his position than I the. Cantabs-would dash in half a dozen .'] strokes and resume their old place. Again 1 ml again Curry quickened, but thus early j there were one or two passengers in the boat | oapable of doing little more, than make an . - endeavour to keep time, and mmo barely | covered their blades at each dip, a fault that the stroke oar most terribly exhibited. 1 Wearing the Soap Works, and being partly I sheltered from the wind,- Oxford once more I managed to hold their own, though there , 3 was no visible improvement in their rowing. Cambridge, on the other hand, were still _ well together, and without flurry rowing 36 ■ 1 to Oxford's 37 and 38... Both crews steered." I Well out in mid stream after passing the 1 Distillery, the Cambridge men going lar too '1 much over to the Middlesex Bide, and when | they shot Hammersmith Bridge, Cambridgs were only about a length and a :quartor : j ahead. Then, served by the station, Oxford Jj rounding the bend picket! up a bit, and in 1 rough water made a very fair show. Curry now put on a succession of spurts, but was - ] always answered by Cambridge, the Light ,1 Blues each time having the best of the tussles, and between the Lead Mills and | Chiswick Eyot, the Cantabs, amidst vocifer- I ous cheering, twice attempted to take Ox- ' ford's water, but they failed to get more than a clear, length's advantage, so their | coxswain would not go in front,of the Ox- | ford boat Through indifferent steering . Cambridge once or twice dropped back slightly, after gaining a decided advantage.* M Nearing the top of the Eyot Oxford made their final effort, and this being stalled off, like all the preceding ones, the Dark Bluo | representatives, it was apparent, were beaten. Still they struggled gamely, and refused to ' accept defeat till—about half-way up the Reservoir—they were all but swamped by a Conservancy tug, whioh filled their boat with water. Now they could hardly row 33 strokes per minute, so Cambridge only had to paddle for the remainder of the dis tance, and as the race was a procession from this point, further description is useless. The Oxford men kept a zigzag course, and ' indeed were allover the shop, whilst Cam bridge rowed in'as good form as at the start. ...____ '. -■■• ': \.

The London Poor and Their "Shopping."

Thb following letter Has appeared in the columns of an English paper:—"As the sub ject of the pooi- and their mode of living has of late been brought prominently before the public, It may interest] your numerous readers to know something of their mode of 'shopping.': I inclose, therefore, a few items, as given mo by oae whose shop, un til within the Jast few weeks,., was one of he largest in this parish of 7,600 souls, and tood in a loading thoroughfare. Here are the quotations: 'Halfpennyworth of tea, halfpennyworth of sugar, halfpennyworth pickled cabbage.' ' Pennyworth of cheese and Ipaf of bread.' . 'Fenny rasher of bacon, halfpenny worth of onions, and loaf of bread,' 1 Pennyworth -of bacon bones and half pint of peas ; mother is going to make some soup.' ' Pennyworth of bits of oheese.' '■Have you got any. scraps of fat bacon to boil with some greens?—the ohUdren like ;.' ' Penny wortn pf butter scrapings, Oh Kat is nice and clean. I'll have Jib.; if washed, it will be beautiful.' '2oz. butterm Jib. treacle.' '2oa. cornedT>eef.' 'Penny-\ worth of tinned meat, halfpennyworth N dripping, Jib. pigs' fry.' ' Farthing's worth of needles, one 6 and one 7, a farthing's worth of pins, halfpennyworth of tape, farthine half of Naish's cotton, white.' ' Half penny worth of elastic' 'Halfpennyworth of greens, halfpennyworth of carrots and par Bnlps.' Ha'porth of all sorts f or broth' (served with one carrot, one parsnip, one onion, and a bit of paralev) ' Ha'porth of oatmeal, 'cos brother's goti a oold/ 'Ha'porth of tea and a ha'porth of sugar' (usually called for by the same per son four times a day). «Joz tea nnd^Hb sugar.' 'Jib bacon in the piece, 'cob 'tisi tn boil.' ' 2oz. butter and half a loaf of bread » 'Ha'porth coffee, penn'orth cheese, peW rasher bacon.' •• Halfpenny worth ofsoarf farthing's worth of soda, and farthW knoh of blue?. 'Farthing's worth of pgSXnd farthing's worth ofmusUrd v ' 'Farthing's worth.of : vinegar>' 'Farthing's worth-4 salt.' 'Pennyworth of coal.' <T?»$1 S candle and fa^thinp- box <* mjJJSffi like the large ones.' «# b 3d soap {motZh returned-.mother says this is blue; and she wants the grey.' ■ Jib of flour and Tib ourrante.' «Halfpenny .worth of mixed spice,. for pickling.' .fender such c™ stances you readers will readily imagine how great a boon is a soup-kitchen. Durine a parochial experience of some six and thirty years I have never found anything go efficient or so to satisfy the hungry multi tude j but, in order to secure this satisfac tion upon the part of the recipients the soup must '.be good. That which we 'issue fr«m the establishment which has been in operation in this parish for fourteen veara undergoes a procees of steam boiling for nearly bLv hours ; and being -made of the best material, a angle complaint has never been made by the tons of thousands who have partaken of it. The cost P Tce is 2d per quart; the poor are suppHed S^ ld >, .f, l^etß issded gratuitous^ Six-and-ttoW; poor men out of workwem recently supphed with a couple of basins and two slices ,o£ bread. As a rule w^y^a^ the kitchenVtwiee a week t^Si^ffi «««on; »j. vf rycoW| more frequently. ■Thl average distribution is about 700 anatbL the time ocoupled seldom exceeds the^if hour." The, writer of the above W^sfSteHd

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDit, JUNE % 1884.



GREAT SALE DRAPERY, MILLINERY, CLOTHING, SHIRTS, &c. •V ■'■'•■ ■ * '"' " ;■■ ■, ' ' HAVING AN OVERSTOCK IN ALL DEPARTMENTS, HIS BUYER «.';'lN LONDON (MR:' ALFRED SHALDERS), HAVING GREATLY EXCEEDED HIS ORDERS, WHICH, TO. REDUCE, HE / ;■ ' WILL HOLD A CLEjfIRJNG SALE SfPORT TIM£ ONLY, TVliciiu DisCOiiVTof TWENTY PERCENT., or FOUR SHILLINGS ; ISI-.THE POUND, will be allowed on all Parcels of Five Shillings and upwards. :.!■••' The BT&CK ds well known as one of the largest and best in Auckland. T.S. is not in the habit of holding SPECIAL SALES, it being upwards of FIVE YEARS SINCE THE LAST. The present one is being held simply for Reasons mentioned above. T. SBtOBT, Queen-street, Auckland.



OFFICIAL REPORT OF THE AS "Sydney Observatory, February 26th, 1880. Several of the rate curves respond to the ohango in the barometer in a way that shows the isochronal properties of their balance Bprings are not quHe peri eot» Looking down the curves, ft becomes at once'evident that Watch No. J. whioh is No. 670,068, second grade, or the American Waltham Watch Company, is re markably froo from fhese defects,'and presents the best rate of all the watches tested. Amongst the oheapcr watches tested. No. Q, which is No. 1,221,336 of thO American Waltham Wntoh Company, ia worthy at notice; it is a watch or the sixth grado, yet its performance has been better than that of many very oxpensive ana otherwise fin)t-c!as9 -watches tested. Such a watch speaks volumes in favour of the system under which it was made, ftnd is the best com ment upon the aoouraoy of tho machines that produced it H. C. Hussell, 8.A,, F.R.A.8., Astronomer • Koyal, Sydney ObservatoJT." ---IADVTJ (-..,.• ,'■ : -| ' ,>-- ' '"'