HOME TALK.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 6, Issue 318, 26 October 1865, Page 2

HOME TALK.

£?2oa THE BOMB NEWS.] The Temple, August 25.

The mere date of this letter has something remarkable in it, for the general elections broke up the season, and since the excitement of the returns has subsided everything has become stagnant. The Queen is in Germany, as are her eldest sons; everybody who can leave town has left it; the Operas have closed, and so has the Convocation ; the Academy pictures have gone to their purchasers or returned to their painters ; the clubs are delivered over to waiters and to whitewashes ; the principal thoroughfares are taken up, either for repairs or to make holes for some railway; the tradesmen have taken everything that is worth looking at out of their windows, and the excursionists to London stare with astonishment at last year’s articles. Your tailor is at Baden, your cheesemonger on the Rhine, and your shoemaker at Margate ; and, in brief, the man who had remained in these deep solitudes and awful cells at tills date deserves something—let us say a civic crown—for being the only man in the City Except. by the way, the Lord Mayor, who adheres to his throne, and was left the other morning to hold a meeting at which no one attended but himself and the reporters.

Our one piece of news is melancholy. The Atlantic Telegraph has failed. At the end of last month the work was begun, everybody being in. high spirits. Such a mass of science as there was on board the Great Eastern has never before been embarked, since Napoleon took his learned men to Egyp'. Then there was Win. Russell, of the Crimea, to describe the triumph and Henry O’Neil, of Eastward, ho! to paint it, and there were others to lithograph it. Regular newspaper reporters were cast overboard, to the great wrath of their employers, but it is fair to remember that the experiment was the work of private individuals, and that realty the public had no more right to bo represented on board than in the offices of the complaining editors. Well, the shore end was fastened at Valentia, and speeches were made, and awav went the great ship, with two attendants. At first all went delightfully, and messages were published each morning, the number of miles paid out increasing enormously, to everybody’s delight. Then came a hitch. It was repaired before it had time to daunt us, and then came a “ kink.” But it was unkinked, and all continued to go well. But on a Wednesday, the 2nd of August, when the ship was a thousand miles from Ireland, there came another stoppage. AVe heard nothing more, except dismal reports from Valentia itself about earth currents and the like, until I lie Great Eastern herself appeared at Crookhaven, on Thursday, the 17th, and a statement, prepared from day to day by Mr Russell, and lithographed on board, was sent round the press. The fact v.as that the cable had broken. Tills seems to have been caused bv the action of the thip, at the time that the rope was being taken in for the detection of a flaw ; but be this as it may, the end of the cable is at the bottom of the ocean, or as near it as circumstances will allow. The most skilful and persevering attempts were made to hook it up, and will) such success as is encouraging for the future, though the failure of tlie tackle compelled the present abandonment of the effort. The rope was buoyed and a flag placed on the buoy, mid the rest is left to chance until next year. The associated companies profess their entire faith in the scheme, and their resolution to renew their endeavours. The Americans must be very sarcastic —they know all about it before this, and as they were so extraordinarily demonstrative on the former occasion, they have been reserved, but on the whole complimentary, this time, and now they will bo at liberty to laugh at us. But there is nothing to laugh at. All that science could do was done, and all that money could procure in the way of skill or energy was procured. There is uo disgrace in the failure.

The cattle disease has assumed direful proportions, but inasmuch as these letters profess to report ‘‘ talk,” and as by common consent people agree not to talk on this unpleasant theme, T might be justified in evading it. I will simply mention that the agricultural and also the beefeating world is thoroughly aroused. The British farmer grimly declares that the disease comes from the importation of foreign cattle, and lie demands that the ports be closed. The foreign importer replies that not only is this not true, but that the disease is English, and is produced by the ignorant and disgusting treatment which cattle receive in this country. The papers are flooded with letters, and as this is the slack season, such contributions are not unwelcome, but few of them seem practical. I suspect that we shall be obliged to let things take their chance, and in spite of notifications and orders from Government, I do not believe that any large and effective measure will be introduced for the regulation of the cattle trade. I only hope that the pest will not roach the colonies. The price of milk has been raised from 4d per quart to sd-, and this will press hard upon the poor, especially the children of the poor, who are already deprived of far too much of what ought to bo their daily nutriment. °

Cherbourg fetes come among foreign news, but I may jus* note that, in order to illustrate the perfect harmony width exists between France and ourselves, the British fleet, or a goodly instalment of it, inciuning the Black Prince, has been to Cherbourg, and the French flest pays us a return visit at Portsmouth. Salutes, dinners, firewooks, and all that makes life happy are the order of the day. I had the honor of “assisting,” as the French say, at the last great naval review at Spithead, and the sight was a very glorious one, and almost enough to compensate* for my having had to pass nearly the whole night on the railway on mv return. The spectacle of the great ships, drawn up in a line of three miles, and at a signal gun from the royal yacht, suddenly enwrapt in the whitest smoke, as if they had all been laid away in wool, was a thing to remember. So was the parade of the spiteful little gunboats, which ran raoring and clattering up and down between tne mg ships, like ill-conditioned children at a grown-up party. So was the cannonade, which gave one the most tremendous idea of the power

of broadsides, and which (I witnessed it from the deck of 11.M.5. Brunswick) abided in my ears, to their detriment for some days. lam very glad to have seen that sight, especially as the monster wooden ships, which formed so important a pari of the pageant, are menaced with extinction ; but once is enough, and remembering how admirably all arrangements for an influx of the public are managed in England, and especially on railroads, X shall consult the interest of those who desire the continuance of these letters, and peruse the narralive of the Times, and his colleagues, instead of sharing their perils.

We must have been very hard up for news when our journals gave leading articles on the important fact that Lord Malmesbury, not liking something in an election speech of Mr Gladstone’s, wrote him a letter thereon. But the feature incident was that Lord Malmesbury writes a very bad hand, aud Lady Malmesbury a very good one, which latter was employed by her lord on this occasion. Whether Mr Gladstone really doubted the authenticity of the document, or whether he was out of temper, as he can be at times, I do not know, but he wrote to ask whether the letter were genuine. Then, Lord Malmesbury wrote him rather a pretty note, explaining that her Ladyship s hand was much better than his own, and being sure that Mr Gladstone was too gallant a man not to see in Lady Malmesburv’s having written a fresh proof of respect for himself. But Mr Gladstone was not in ilie mood, to be polite op even civil, and he said nothing gallant, but gave Lord Malmesbury a cynical answer to the letter, ilie point was not of the least consequence—it was whether our ambassador in China ought to have had the fleet with him or not —nor was (hero much in the fact or incidents of the correspondence. But this is the slack season, as I have already remarked, and these things are our gi<rantic gooseberries. °

A company has taken, under one management, the two great hotels at Greenwich, the one at Blackwall, the Star and Garter, and two others, Xdo not in the least admire the scheme. Thera is nothing like competition, and company manage* ment savours too much of irresponsibility. C)no likes a host who has a character of h's own, and upon whose rubicund face you can call up an extra blush by showing him, with remonstrance, an overdone duck or an underdone salmon X don’t like putting my duck or salmon into writ* ing, to be laid before the committee at the next meeting. Still, wit It a judicious selection of prime ministers, the hotels may be well managed. The season is over at those places now, but they are kept open for country folks who come to town, and are not particular, and it is as well that they are not, for I beguiled my loneliness by a riverside dinner last Sunday, and lhc whitebait wore as big as sturgeon and ns flabby as Spurgeon. The very waiters looked at one witli a kindly pity, as won* dering whether one had no friends. Yet the river flows as brightly at the end of August as in the beginning of June, and the Lafitte does the same thing. I fear that wo allow convertionality to dictate too many of our arrangements. Why do we ignore the country when it is loveliest, and stop broiling in town, leaving it when the ground is wet and the evenings are chill? Because it is the fashion, and Parliament sits. Xiang the fashion, why does Ihirliament sit in summer P Because lha game cannot be killed till the autumn. So bo it. I reve-t to my original proposition that Londoners, for the sake of fashion and clique, lose tho best part of the year, and do not show themselves the Solomons they think themselves. It is now several years since I ascended in a balloon. Nevertheless, I have done that wise and useful thing. X ascended at Chehea with Mr Green, the veteran aeronaut, and certain others, and w : descended in the marshes opposite Eritb and reached the Cafe de I’Europe (in the Hay! market), which had sat up for us, about three ia the morning. Therefore I am an authority ia aerial navigation, and taka an interest therein. The affair was very pleasant, but I do not think that I shall be tempted to repeat the excitement. If anything, however, could induce me to do so, it would be a desire to test the alleged invention of a Frenchman, a M. Delamarne, who is now here with his balloon, and who professes to have discovered the art of guiding the machine. His mechanism consists of vanes and a rudder, but I have had no opportunity of understanding details. He has ascended several times, and, as is stated, has gone the way he intended to go. But up to the present time M. Delmarne has been nothin" more than a part of the attractio .8 at Cremorne Gardens, and, in spite of one’s almost unlimited reverence for a spirited manager who gives tho inferior press much superior champagne, I should like to have a report from some dry-lipped expert. The unpleasant habit which is now prevalent among the lower orders, who look on a balloon as as Covnishuien used to look on a ship, ns a thin® to be wrecked, if possible, for the general goocf, making it less tempting to resume balloonacy. M. Delamarne himself was robbed and ill-treated (ho other night, Captain Adams was all but murdered on his last ascent, and the Foresters tore Mr Cox well’s balloon to pieces at Leicester. So there are other perils than those of air.

Passing for a moment from a light subject to a rery grave one, I would note that the bodies of three of the victims of the fearful accident on the Matterhorn have been recovered, and interred by order of the Government of the State, We hava had from Mr Whymper, one of the party, a long and interesting account of the accident, and its cause appears to hare been sufficiently explained* What is the moral ? There has been a wild waste of words on the subject. That Englishmen should not climb mountains F It is worse than useless to preach imbecility. But, certainly, that they should no more attempt the most difficult of tasks uniil they have had long practice in the less difficult than they would begin any other art at the wrong tend—commence jjrifla practice at 1,000 yards, or take a first swimming lesson in a raging weir. I must add that a parson on the spot has drawn another moral, and urges on his countrymen here that they should endow s church at tha neighbouring village, in honor of the departed—which is a truly parsonic way of regarding • Among the deaths recorded in this month’s obituary i» that of Professor Aytoun, of Edinburgh*

He has many literary and personal friends, but his name is not, 1 think, everywhere known in connection with his most humorous work, the “ Bon Gaultier Ballads.” These were composed by Aytoun, and by Theodore Martin, the translator of Horace and Faust, and the respective labors of each have not been publicly apportioned but are, generally speaking, easy to point out. The ballads are full of spirit, of capital verso, and good satire, and one of Aytoun’s, in which the scenes in an equestrian arena are told in the style of a Spanish ballad of Lockhart’s, is as fine a bit of true burlesque (seldom hoard of in these days of nigger dances and idiotic puns) as I know. Aytoun contributed largely to Blackwood, but there was a certain eagerness among the authorities of “ The Magazine” to assure you that he was not the editor. His first wife was a daughter of Professor Wilson j and there is a story which is most likely about the courtship. Aytoun, having successfully pleaded his cause with the young lady, was of course referred to her father, with whom he was equally fortunate. “Send the child to me,” said Wilson. The lover sped away to fulfil *o agreeable a command. The young lady came, and was in a minute sent back to her expectant finance with a leaf of paper pinned on to her dress —Wilson had torn it ;out of some presentation volume, and it bore the inscription, “ With the author’s best compliments.” Professor Aytoun lectured in London some years ago, and I heard him on lyric art; lie labored energetically to show that the true lyric was made to be said or sung to listeners, not to be criticised by readers, and that the effect should not be to give story with energy, instead of wasting time on polish that weakened the rough sense, lie had a handsome house in the best part of Edinburgh, and thoroughly delighted, in spite of weak health, in showing true Scots hospitality to the Southron—l speak from memory of pleasant times.