PEN AND INK SKETCHES OF LOCAL POLITICIANS.

Auckland Examiner, Volume 1, Issue 19, 23 April 1857, Page 2

PEN AND INK SKETCHES OF LOCAL POLITICIANS.

By

Quizzicus.

CHAPTER XII. Due de Rochfoucaults definition of hypocrisy as the homage that vice pays to virtue has been much applauded, but, like many another definition, it will not stand the test supplied by moral chemistry. Although it shines like Coromandel gold, it is only Dutch metal. Hypocrisy may sometimes be the homage of vice to virtue ; but alas ! often (and who can tell how often ?) it is the constrained homage of struggling virtue to powerful vice. Few people would take the trouble to play hypocrite if they did not fear to act what they think, and before preaching or declaiming against the insincere it might be well did we pause to consider how far our own tyranny has contributed to make them so. No tyranny —no, not even the tyranny of capital, is so soul-debasing and utterly tyrannical as the tyranny of opinion. Before that terrible tyrant, and worse than wooden oracle, to be sincere is to be offensive, to be thoroughly truthful most unwisely suicidal. Oh, for a forty-preacher power, to sing thy praise, Hypocrisy ! exclaimed a great poet. That cry was from the heart as well as lips, and meant hatred of a system which forbids sincerity “ under penalties” few can afford to pay. It is probable that few men have suffered so much for the crime of being sincere as the Local Politician now to be sketched. It is certain that few men have so thoroughly out-thought the errors of their youth. No one individual can know another much better than I do my sinful subject—whose ways past finding out by others are quite familiar to me. He cannot deceive me whatever his skill in deceiving others; for there is not one important act of his life with which I am unfamiliar. He cannot if he would conceal himself from me, and readers may rely upon it that no important feature shall be either exaggerated or concealed. If Milton may be trusted, Satan stood revealed when Ithuriel touched him with the point of a spear. And all Auckland shall see how my remarkable subject will stand revealed after I touch him up a little with the point of a pen. My convenient custom of identifying

certain of our political bipeds with “inferior animals” has been complained of; but the Messrs. Chambers whose respect for “ God’s image” no one can doubt and whose piety is beyond question, in their admirable paper on Animal Instincts and Intelligence most sagely observe that—- “ A mistaken fear of submerging the dignity of man should not prevent us from identifying the superior and inferior types of animal existence to the full extent of their agreement. Now, the inferior type of animal existence with which I am able to identify my subject, is neither ox nor ass, nor serpent, nor monkey; nor any other simple creature described by Naturalists. His individuality embraces many natures. Cardinal Richelieu was described as part lion part fox ; being both lion and fox in his proceedings. My subjectmight be so described; but the description would not describe him exactly ; for although lion and fox enter into his composition they neither constitute nor dominate it. Like Lysander, whom Richelieu is thought to have emulated, my many-ani-mals-in-one subject, has no objection to piece out the skin of a lion with that of a fox, but unlike the wily Greek or wilier Frenchman he detests deceit, believes in truth, and revolts at the coldblooded shedding of blood. In figure he is slight and almost short. In face a cross between aristocracy and democracy. Only practised eyes (without and from the other sense organs) could determine whether he is of English, Irish, or German “ distraction,” or whether originally he was “ dropped” in America, Germany, or England. More than once have French people mistaken him for a Frenchman. If they did not, I can, at all events, affirm that they complimented him by making the mistake. Although at times rather fierce-looking—so much so indeed, that a writer in the “London Times” called him, upon one occasion, the man of fierce countenance —he is not easily dis • turbed, except by trifles. The author of Douglas describes his hero as mild with the mild, but with the froward fierce as fire; a description quite applicable to my hero who while fastest of friends is bitterest of enemies. Lukewarmness he detests, and I have frequently heard him say that next to the pleasure of being loved by a friend was that of being feared by an enemy. His frame though delicate in appearance is wiry in fact and capable of sustaining fatigues that much bigger men have shrunk under. Phrenologists assure him he has a good head and he believes the Phrenologists. The exact shape or length of his nose I might but will not give. Let me observe, however, that his eyes are blue, his nose respectable, his feet, hands, and skin, demonstrative of pretty good breed. As already hinted to analogize him with any other animal is difficult. But in many particulars he strikingly resembles that rather sagacious-looking cross between dog and fox called sometimes New Holland Dingo, sometimes Canis Australasia?.

By French Naturalists this Dingo is held to be mere dog reclaimed from a rather wild species. In confinement he is “ entirely mute neither howling nor growling.” When offended he comes out stiffish—“ raising his hair upright and assuming a truly menacing aspect.” He loves to hunt all sort of cattle but particularly sheep or calves “ killing as many as he can overtake.” So deep is the wound left by his bite, that “ few who are wounded recover.” In fighting domestic curs he “ snaps very severely,” and woe to the domestic cur who falls into his hands, or rather his mouth, for “he is immediately devoured.” Moreover, it appears that to attack donkeys he specially delights, and some Naturalist relates that the Dingo he took to England fell at once upon a quiet innocent ass which he “ would have destroyed, if he had not been prevented.” He has been likened to the Ferret; and I allow that Aiith that quick and lean looking animal, my “mighty hnnter” of political rats has many qualities in common, but still there is no one unhuman nature he resembles so much as the Dingo. There is, however,’ a "particular peculiarly which my remarkable subject has and which belongs ! neither to Dingo nor Ferret. So very peculiar is this peculiarity that I never heard of more than one entire brute manifesting it. I allude to an animal (whose learned name I cannot remember) called Stinkard by sailors on account of the very peculiar peculiarity im question which is that of letting out full in the face of any pursuer a compound of villanous stenches that no mortal creature can stand.

My slightly coxcomical subject does not dress well although to be better dressed than Colonials usually are is one of his small ambitions. I do not like his hat which has been white and all colors observable in the rainbow, but quite differently commingled. Really a “new tile he ought to have, and I marvel much that his numerous aumirers seeing him so shabby genteely “ topped” do not subscribe for something decent. What makes this notorious white hat the less

endurable is a piece of narrow ribbon or cloth fastened round the outside of it. And if the hat savors of shabby genteelism so does the coat which like its owner has seen better days; but, unlike its owner, has had all the shine taken out of it by a Nev/ Zealand sun. I am, how- . ever, bound to allow that his taste for dress no person of taste will question and that at certain seasons or on special occasions he dresses in quite unexceptionable manner, and looks rather stylish. Too like a gent to be a gentleman and too like a gentleman to be a gent, he can neither take rank with democrats nor aristocrats, with the classical nor the unclessical, but in all things mental as well as physical is a Sphinx, it would puzzle a wiser than CEdipus to love. Dear baby has got a little of everything, said a little boy of a just born brother. Dear subject has got a little of everything is the very best that can be said of him I am attempting to sketch. He has run the entire circle of speculative opinions, Christianity being both starting point and terminus. But the Christianity he now accepts is as little like the Christianity of his childhood as the oak is the acorn. It is not the Christianity of dogma but of fact; not the Christianity of man’s in vention but of Gospel expression. In him I see living evidence that Bacon was right when he said a little knowledge inclineth a man to atheism but a great deal bringeth him round to religion again. In England he was chiefly distinguished as a debater, —and on debating power he rests his hope of distinguishing himself here. Few so ready at discovering the weak side of an argument; and none more willing to publish such discovery for the edification or amusement of others. On solemn blockheadism he has no mercy, and for many years of his eventful life of solemn blockheads he was the terror. Having a genius essentially sportive, he delights in tormenting make-believes, whom he detests. To poke them up with the red hot pen of criticism, or the sharp tongue of declamation, he delights. Of Thomas Carlyle he is a very devout admirer, as all he writes, says, and does, abundantly testifies. I have heard many hundreds of his Orations, which he says are Orations merely because he talks not reads ; and have known him take part in an even larger number of set Debates. My opinions, therefore, touching his talking faculty ought to be worth something, and one of them is that he discusses infinitely better than he lectures or otherwise dogmatizes. To declare that in debate— Like the forked thunder He wields resistless arguments , or that— His words With more than lightning’s subtlety are winged, would be to declare rather more freely than my experience will justify. But that in England he was accounted second to no debater of those literary and political circles iu which he moved I perfectly know and am not afraid to state. Few men of his age have travelled more, seen more, or observed more. The rolling stone, according to a venerable proverb, gathers no moss. He has been rolling about the world ever since he was a boy. When in England he attached himself to the fraternity coarselydescribed as literary nightmen who write for the press. But though frequently with them he was at no time entirely of them. During the two years and a half which elapsed prior to his last leavetaking of Europe he edited a Magazine of Medical Literature and Science, If, as certain philosophers believe, human energy increases in the ratio of travel—his stock of energy must be considerable. Years before arriving at man’s estate he had seen many lands, amongst others Spain, where with General Evans and his Legion of “ thieves” he fought through the two years Carlist war which secured for that splendid country a lease (too short, alas I) of Constitutional Government and Enlightened Freedom. When Evans received the thanks of a British House of Commons for his gallant behavour in the Crimea, he declared that our Crimean army never did anything more glorious than had been achieved by the Legionaries in Spain. It seems then that “ thieves” make first-rate soldiers. My subject was attached to the staff of General Evans whom he accompanied (though under seventeen years) to many a well fought field; but like very many gallant heroes had a horrible aversion to being shot in the head or run through the body and like them preferred sham to real fighting. All have some fear and he who least betrays The only hypocrite deserving praise. I am well assured that my much dreaded subject (whom Tom Murphy threatened to horsewhip but prudently didn’t,) has “somepear,” and yet while in Spain solittle of it did he “betray” that after two years service he was specially thanked by the Commander-in-Chief and received a special Gratuity from the Queen of Spain. So much for Buckingham—my model subject when “ made up” soldier he “ enacted” a hero Seeking the bubble reputation,. Even in the cannon’s month.

Now that he has become an Auckland Notability the common cry of political curs are ever on the watch to have a snap at him. But no sooner does he turn upon them than off they scamper as the cui usually does when faced, or when a kettle of iron or tin is tied to his tail. Furious at his success, they are yelping out, in concert with a calf of Williamson s cow, all sort of accusatory noises and being themselves particularly undrunken, well regulated, and moral animals, are shocked at his immorality. Still, no one ever found him dead drunk in a gutter, or under a dinner table ; no one ever knew him to manifest Sponge propensities or the least disposition to gluttonize; no one ever knew him to debauch women or pimp for men. And yet I admit he is a villain. Indeed there are are no two opinions upon it. Yes, with Handet my villainous subject may fairly say—-‘‘l am very proud, revengeful and ambitious • with more offences at my back than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.” It grieves me to hurt his feelings or unsparingly to expose his weaknesses but these are facts. Let me, however, assure everybody that the crime of being a cobbler’s son he never committed. I knew his father almost as well as I know himself and “ snob” he decidedly was not. The calf made a mistake. My subject’s father never snobbed in his life ; but he was Ireland’s first Piano-forte Maker. To him we owe the Camrichord, the Harpischord, the Upright Grand Piano, Additional Keys, and Cabinet Piano. A pair of shoes he neither made nor snobbed at any time. I must, therefore, defend my too - bad subject from the charge of being a cobbler’s son. Had the calf established that grave charge against him he would have been “ done up not even the abandoned of either sex would have liked to associate with him; andperhaps, like Judas after receiving his blood-money, he would have gone out and hanged himself. He is author of many a Book which does not bear his name, of many a Sermon he never preached, of many a Lecture he never delivered. He did these things for certain people upon the same principle that the tailor makes coats or “continuations” fur certain people, and for the same reason. In the spring of 1855 he left England for Melbourne resolved to eschew politics, to cultivate commerce, to make money, and lead a quiet, cosy, private, unfeverish, humdrum sort of life, but— Men are the sport of circumstances when Circumstances seem the sport of men— ;

And presently he found himself drawn with the vortex of those political agitations he thought himself able to avoid. In an evil or (perhaps) a blessed hourheorationized at Melbourne Mechanics’ Institute. The favorable manner in which his effort was received by Press and People blew into flame the almost expiring embers of political ambition. Besides, habit was strong upon him ; and man is very much governed by habit; indeed, the writer who defined him as bundle of habits was not far wrong. A .naked narrative of his political career while in Melbourne would fill more than one Examiner and send more than one reader to sleep. So I content myself with saying that the Melbourne Press pronounced him Melbourne’s ablest orator and that he wasted much of his energy as well as almost all his means in a vain attempt to become member of the Victorian Parliament. Yielding to the advice ‘of injudicious friends he stood for the City, or rather, I ought to say, wanted to stand, for although he went to the hustings he could not incur .the heavy expence of going to the poll. It was when all but cleaned out, and unable to make head against monetary difficulties partly consequent upon his premature attempt to figure in the Victorian Parliament, that he took to he stage. From youth upwards of acting he had been fond; but until his political break-down in Melbourne he did neither live by the Drama nor belong to what is technically termed the profession. After acting with marked success—once at the Theatre Royal Melbourne and once at the Prince of Wales in Sydney —he came to Auckland with Foley who announced him as the “ popular tragedian.” Well the “ popular tragedian” appeared frequently upon the boards of our Theatre Royal. By and by he became its Lesee . But with him acting was a kind of pis alter, and not by any means to his taste. So he cut his professional connection with the stage the moment he found himself in condition to stand alone. Since then he has confined his attention to matters purely political, and I am inclined to think that no combination of opposing elements will arrest his rapid progress, or hinder him from obtaining a large share of political influence.