A wheen Thochts.

Southern Cross, Volume 2, Issue 9, 2 June 1894, Page 6

A wheen Thochts.

(By Scotch Thistle.)

In the good old days, when the kirk was the kirk, and the minister the king thereof, when anyone preached a sermon that was beyond the grasp of plain mortals, he was deep, wonderfu deep, but now alas, alas! In like manner a few years ago our financial creed could only be grasped bv the favoured few, who, expounding, appeared to darken darkness by words without knowledge, but as a rule we considered them deep, wonderfu deep ; but since the evolution of the reconstruction theory our faith in the substance of things unseen isjstaggered. lam not a financial success ; neither does it trouble me much, I am of the earth earthy, like my erratic friend a toiler amongst clay,.and like him content as long as the hands of love sew on my buttons and make the home brew. As for this State Bank business I have little faith in it, but if the erecting a printing press in Wellington will heal all our diseases, why up with it: but I’m doubtful. True , issuingjour own paper might keep a certain amount of money in the colony that is paid to the brokers in London, but the interest on the paper issued would still have to be met, and then the ease with which the machinery could be started would be a standing temptation to the rings and combinations of self-seekers that are forever bleeding the colony. No, a State Bank like a State church would be a good thing, so long as the church or the party to which I belonged ruled the roost, As for the Rural Bank, which you held forth on the other week, I have more faith in that, as I have in anything that tends to make us self-reliant. I never could see the good sense of a man, having a few pounds to put past, putting it away in a bank at four per. cent., while his neighbour was paying eight to ten per. cent, to the same bank for money to carry out some necessary improvements. What we, as a farming community, want, is more unity and trust in one another, and less of that eternal scraping after the never coming deliver. Let the farmers and all other classes unite in making the land of their adoption a fertile and happy land, and that can only be accomplished by a policy of energetic self-reliance, and selfsacrifice. The exchange of compliments that has taken place between the poet of Myross and the sage of Makarewa is, to say the least, disheartening to the Christian reformer. The spectacle of these two public reformers (at whose feet I have sat for years) executing a war dance, and seeking to scalp each other as they dance in a state of nature m ound the arc of love and philosophy, is exhilarating, At first my sympathy was with the poet, latterly I begin to fear they are both dangerously near the truth, but it is not for a stripling like me to interfere in the battle of the giants, only I humbly beg to say that I always reckoned true love the guiding spirit of all true philosophy, but if either of them say so then I must be wrong'. But I have a hankering thought that I am foolish to say more, and that I have proved the truth of the old saying that “ fools rush in where onlyangels tread,” so I will hold my peace and let the twin angels of love and philosophy fight it out in the manner' so becoming their age and experience, and in the manner so much appreciated by those wretches, the wicked.