A FEW THOUGHTS ON CURRENT TOPICS.

Evening Star, Issue 3787, 14 April 1875, Page 2

A FEW THOUGHTS ON CURRENT TOPICS.

If there is one thing above another that I nave been used to look upon as a certainty it Q b ’? ext death, law. I have, by observation reading, become so convinced of its un wavering agreement and unswerving justice, that a word from the Bench I have always held to be priceless and beyond dispute. Possessed With such unbounded confidence, I treasure up e ! , u nd - t0 hoard I have lately added the following. It refers to a bill, sir, an instrument that some people, both in and out of business make use of :-His Worship, that is Mr Bathgate, said “that plaintiff skould have endorsed the bill before defendant backed it, and that he made the remarks for the guidance of those who did not know that unless the bill was properly drawn and had the name of the holder over that of the endorser it was of no use.” What lucidity I Now, read this ; Chapman, according to Mr Stamper— The plaintiff, by putting his name to the bill as drawer, endorses the bill to defendant, and by so doing made himself responsible to defen* dant,” and “ that if the plaintiff put his name to the bill as drawer, then, instead of the defendant being answerable to plaintiff, plaintiff was answerable to defendant.” How plain ! After such particularly clear and definitive explanations of Byles on “ Bills,” anyone holding such an article must understand his position exactly. Should he feel a little confused at first sight, let him not despair. Perseverance will unravel the apparent contradiction. Should the statutes be equally clear on all matters, and their dispensers as competent to understand and expound them, how thankful we ought to b? that the “ uncertainty of the law” is a fiction. The saying could never have originated in Otago. CouW Boz return to this wicked world, and in addition to his experiences beyond our ken add a few lines on subjects concerning himself and his creations that have been passed in review since his departure, the book would be worth reading. He would, no doubt, have a word or two to say on the finishing touch that some one presumed to give to the “ Mystery of Edwin Drood,” and perhaps in a leisure moment after complimenting the Rev. Mr Clark for his knowledge and appreciation of his works, would condescend to settle the very trifling difference that has arisen between two admirers of his. The one, oh, yes! knew perfectly well the young lady who sat for Dolly Varden, and the other, most decidedly, is certain that the original Dolly was a man, now advanced in years. I like to come across a misunderstanding when the facts look so promising. For that reason I enjoyed Sir Roger. There was such a delightful prospect of dovetailing the story. In the Old World I have seen a shepherd on stilts, now and then calling a halt, and by some sleight of hand converting his long-legged machine into & tripod with a comfortable seat; but it remained for Otago to show me a set try supplied with a stool That is a stretch of politeness for the cloth that only such a considerate country as New Zealand could show. With our increasing riches and luxuries, perhaps time will develop the stool into a couch. Do nothing by halves. Whatever you do, do with your whole strength, as that epitome of useful aphorisisms that, can, like a publichouse door, be used both ways, poor Richard says. I cannot imagine a nicer piece of humble pie than the * Press’ has cooked for itself. It lost Mr Vogel in the swamps and fogs of the Adriatic, and danced a can-can of joy over the approaching smash. Not content with such a farrago, it stood on its head at the ruin of the Canterbury railways. According to official documents, it turned out that the last statement was wide. The apology is a masterpiece. I was in ecstasies when reading it. There is something so appropriate to one’s feelings in such a subject. The editor is not brilliant in his facts, but he is a star at an apology. His style of admitting his errors is a model to others in a quandary, and ought to blot out an acre of fibs. Mr Bathgate will be the idol of the shuttle for the future. It is war to the knife against long hours and ventilation. The industrious little dears wanted a champion. Their gratitude will explode one of these days in an astonishing manner. They’ll take an original way of showing it. Some scribblers have gone the length of calling his Worship an elderly female; suppose the ladies cap it, and offer to machine him an outfit? John Chinaman means business. He is not only ready to convert us to the doctrines of Confucius, but he is prepared to spare us a few millions to do any spare jobs which our own working hands find it inconvenient to do. From excavating to growing cabbages, from making furniture to nursing the body, John will oblige. He swamps the Palmer with a few odd thousands, and is prepared to furnish South Australia with an odd million; whilst our own Otqjo promises well to census up every second inhabitant as a Chinaman in a few years. Could a few of them only squeeze into the legal body, or get into Parliament and compete for a rosy billet, perhaps legislators would see faults in a ./ reo immigration of heathen Chinee competitors that all the telescopes in the world would not enable people to see whose interests are not in question. Ido hope that these few humble remarks won’t be taken to moan that people objecting to John should swing him round by his tail or blow him to smash with gunpowder. My ideas are more limited. I admire John and his industry, in suitable places and—in few numbers. Humility.