THE WEEK.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume IX, Issue 313, 19 September 1874, Page 2

THE WEEK.

This bas been a politically busy week in other parts, of the colooy, the constiiuericieshave been addressed by their representatives in Auckland, Canterbury, and Otago. In the former the great gun of the season has been fired, Mr Vogel having made there his postsessional speech, which was certainly anything but complimentary to those he-was addressing. "I don't care a rap for tbe lot of you," was the tone he adopted. " You may be pleased or not with what I have done, I am satisfied, and it is not a matter of tbe slightest moment to me what may be your opinions of my actions, I don't want any expression of confidence from you, ior, to tell the truth, I have none in you, and if you were to entreat me to represent you again I would not do so, for I can, if I choose, be returned by almost any constituency, and I mean to select one that is more likely to snit me than that for which I now hold a seat." It was a bold line to take, but it appears to have been successful, if it may be taken for granted that silence on the part of the telegraph denotes the absence of a vote of want of confidence. Why the result of the meeting was not telegraphed it is difficult to say. Newspaper proprietors are called upon to pay for far less interesting items of news than that would have been. As it is, we must wait for the newspaper reports of the meeting to inform us how it terminated. In the South, too, a prominent member of the House has been addressing tbe electors, and we are told that that fiery old Indian, Sir Cracroft Wilson, has been condemning provincialism in generat terms, but is not prepared to allow the land fund of his particular province to be converted into colonial revenue. Rather than that he would fight the question out to the bitter end, if necessary, with arms in his hands. Very well, Sir Cracroft,! we shall see. If, before two years have passed, you have not been compelled to give way, despite your dire threats, I shall be very greatly surprised. j "Long sermons." Such was the 1 title of a letter in an English paper that eame under my notice the other day^ The writer argued with some show of reason that no sermon should exceed an ordinary leading article in length. I am not prepared to go to such a length with him, but, as a newspaper appears six times a week, and a clergyman is supposed to preach only two sermons in the same time, I should be prepared to allow that one sermon might be as long as three articles, and so would occupy from a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes in delivery. Why those who address us from the pulpit, and whom we are always glad to hear when they confine their discourses within reasonable limits, should insist on speaking or reading to their congregation for nearly twice as long a time as the members of the latter care to listen to them, I never could understand. I never yet met with a man, woman, or child, who did not prefer a short to a long sermon, and I don't suppose I ever ehali. To those of theciergy who are inclined to trespass on tbe patience of their hearers, I would make a suggestion. Let them, as soon as they have finished their discourses,' slip out of their pulpits and stand near the doors of the Church as the congregation are going out. From nineteen out of twenty pair of lips they will hear such exclamations, as ** What an awfully long sermon," "Ithooghthe was never going to finish," « Thirtyfive minutes in those uncomfortable seats is too much of a good thing," and ao on. Now if the same sermon had been divested of all surplusage, and reduced io length to a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, the same clergyman, when posted in the same position would probably hear, none but commendatory remarks, and he would have the satisfaction of knowing that he had sent his congregation home in a good humor, with something more pleasing and more edifying to ponder over than the fact that tbey bad been kept in their seats a great deal longer than they liked. Perhaps we ought all of us to like lomg sermons, and not to do so may be wrong from one point of view, but still there is the unquestionable, insuperable fact that we don't. Why then should they be forced upon us ? In this respect at least it surely is better to take men as we find thera. To the large majority of churchgoers a short, pithy, well-digested sermon is a pleasure to listen to, while a long and wordy one is productive of nothing but weariness and pain. I make a present of these suggestions to the clergy, and can assure tbem tbat if they will act upon them they will do more good io their generation, for they will have, riot only larger, but more contented congregations. The mysteries of that strange freak of fashion which developes itself in that unsightly hump, commonly known as the " Grecian bend," are deep and unfathomable. What produces the bump, and what is the object of calling it into existence, are questions that I have often heard asked, but never satisfactorily solved. I am glad, therefore, to find that it is not altogether without its uses, but is occasionally turned to good account. A factory girl has been writing a letter to the Melbourne papers, in wbich she says : — " Messrs. Beath, Schiess, & Co's employees say they cannot earn the money they are said tZ~T l akin & 7 ork home » and ™rkin r four or five hours when they get there, someSUf f^.t : "d "WW* «»e machinists, to earn anything like wages, are obliged to do tne same. As regards some of the factory .

girls being able to earn £1 per week without taking work home, they cannot do it. But let their employers stand at the door, or anywhere they like, end lurn up the girl' panniers or dresses, and see what their Grecian bends are compose! of— coats, vests, or trousers, whatever vocation they may follow— perhaps they will then know whether the hands take home work or not." It is sad to think that some of the fair forms that are to be seen Sitting about our streets, or gracing our ball rooms, owe much of their elegance to an effect that may be produced by the judicious packing away of an old pair of trousers. F.