TOPICS OF THE DAY.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 460, 5 April 1890, Page 3

TOPICS OF THE DAY.

(FROM OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT.)

London', January 24. The Snekzy Epidemic.—Precautions at Osborne. Extraordinary precautions are being taken at Osborne to prevent the Queen catching the prevailing epidemic. No persons who have suffered from it (even though they may have recovered weeks ago) are allowed within the precincts of Her Majesty’s apartments on any pretence whatever, and the contents of the despatch boxes coming from town are invariably subjected to the severest fumigation. The higher a person’s rank, the more certainly “la grippe ” seems to lay hold of them. The Princess of Wales and her daughter were no doubt suffering from slight attacks last week, and the buxom Duchess of Teck —who fell ill whilst visiting the Danish Minister at Luton Hoo—has had an exceptionally severe visitation.

Tiie New Earl Cairns. The new Lord Cairns was seized with the epidemic two days before his brother s funeral, and could not of course be present. He is described as a very promising youth, with plenty of brains, and a decided turn for mechanics and engineering. Till recently lie filled a i-esponsible post at Sir William Armstrong's works at Newcastle, and ’tis said his having to leave there has caused both his comrades and the men very real concern. The third Earl Cairns will be a rich man. His predecessor had (as I told you last week) just inherited a large fortune from Mrs MaeCalmont, the widow of the great ironmaster, and the new peer has besides his brother's money several thousands a year of his own. Lord Salisbury’s Autocracy. There is groat dissatisfaction at the Carlton and amongst the Conservative chiefs generally at the autocratic manner in which Lord Salisbury at present carries on the government of the country. Of all his colleagues, Mr Balfour seems to be the only one whom the Premier deigns to consult, even Mr Goschen being kept in the dark as to most of his Lordship’s future plans. The latest grievance is that Lord Salisbury settled the Portuguese difficulty offhand, without calling a Cabinet council. Considering the extreme gravity of the issues at stake, it certainly must be admitted this was an imperious proceeding, arid one calculated to rouse even the mildest of colleages to rebellion. Nevertheless, the remonstrances of Mr Smith and Mr Goschen do not appear to have materially affected the Premier, since he has calmly retreated to the Riviera to recruit, without giving anyone the faintest indication what the Government programme will be during the coming session. Death of Dr. Littledale. The death of Dr. Littledale deprives the Anglicans of one of their strong props, and society of an exceptionally brilliant and intellectual conversationalist. The “'World” recalls one of the doctor’s smart retorts which was addressed to a noble lord who had referred to a pet clerical'aversion of Littledale’sas a “moderately good churchman.” “ A moderately good churchman,” cried Dr. Littledale, disgustedly. “ Pshaw ! we shall be hearing next of a moderately good egg, or of a moderately chaste woman.” Lord Naiter’s Gift of Sleep at Any Time. Lord Napier of Magdala’s friends consider he owed much of his early successes in life to his great powers of endurance and to a phenomenal capacity for sleeping at any moment, under any circumstances, and for as long a time as necessary. Strange to say, some of young Napier’s brother officers in India thought his habit of dropping off to sleep at the oddest moments and without anv apparent preparation betokened weakness somewhere, and predicted he would not live long. Lord Napier was a great favourite with old Emperor William of Germany, and also with “ CJnserFritz,” both of whom had the highest admiration for his military attainments. This explains the presence at the funeral on Tuesday of special representatives of the present Kaiser and of the Dowager Empress, the one bearing a wreath of white blossoms and the other a cross of violets. The “ Daily Graphic,” I may mention, was well on the spot in the matter of this funeral, the issue of Wednesday (the following) morning, containing eight rough but nob ineffective cuts of the procession from various points, and the ceremony in St. Raul s.

The “Answers” Competition. Amongst the “Snippet” weeklies which have proved effective rivals to ‘‘Tit Bits” is a journal called “Answers,” which was started two years ago by a Civil Service store clerk named Ilarmsvvorth. There was nothing new in the plan of this paper, but the prize competitions were on an exceptionally large scale, and original in conception. Recently, for example, “Answers ” offered “ £1 a week for life ” to the sender of the post-card bearing the nearest guess to the amount of bullion in the Bank of England cellars on the 4th December, 1889; the competition of course closing before that date. This attracted no fewer than 718,000 post cards, 295,000 of which came in on the last available day. _ The lucky winner is Mr Austen, a clerk in the Ordnance Survey at Southampton, with whom Mr Harmsworth on dit has compounded for £35. The publishers reckon that this competition alone added between sixty and seventy thousand to their regular readers. For some folks these guessing businesses appear to have an extraordinary fascination. One man. I hear, ventured 4,000 tries for the last “Answers” bullion competition. Captain O’Shea’s Affidavit.

The most interesting feature of Captain O’Shea’s contempt of Court case against the New York “Herald ” and the “ Star,” was the reading of his own affidavit, in which the honourable and gallant gentleman swears that it was with the full consent and approbation of Sir Evelyn Wood and his wife’s relations that he initiated divorce proceedings against Mrs O’Shea and Mr Parnell. One can scarcely suppose this extraordinary statement to be incorrect, and yet it contradicts the Irish leader’s declaration that Mrs O’Shea is on good terms with her brother. Encore Verses to the Mad Gardener’s Song. The “ Scots Observer,” which is gradually taking the place occupied in days gone by bv the “ Saturday Review,” contains in its last issue what it calls “ some apropos encore verses ” to the Mad Gardener’s song in Mr Lewis Carroll’s “Sylvie and Bruno.” One or two of them are distinctly worth quoting. For instance He thought he saw Sir Wi liam H. A-sitting on a fence; He looked again, and saw it was An elephant immense. *'l always ditl believe,” he said. “ That brute’s a brute of sense.’ He thought he saw a crownless harp Upon a flag of green. Ho looked again, and saw it was Trinitroglycerine. , The one is what they say,” lie said, . , •“ The other wliat they mean.

He thought he saw a stylograph Extremely *un to seed : He looked again, and saw it was The works of Wemyss Reid. “ Your prose is very weird,” he said, "O, very weird indeed!”

lie thought he saw a Jacobyn, His head upon a pike; He looked again, and saw it was .John Morlev out on strike: . “ You’ll get on best without." he said, “A head—it’s what they like !” (ad lib.) New Songs. With the exception of the now widely popular Irish song “ Off to Philadelphia ” (which I have once or twice mentioned before), the ballad concert season, now waning, has not introduced us to any particularly striking novelties. “ The Bovs

of England,” by Messrs Bingham and Bevan, is a stirring ballad, and “In the Starlight,” a waltz song, founded on Dan Godfrey junior’s success “ Elsie,” has one of those catching refrains which linger (tiresomely at times) in the memory. J udeing from the concert programmes on the front page of the “ Telegraph,” Tratere’s “ In Old Madrid,” and Roeckel’s “ Hark ! Hark ! The Dogs do Bark,” are being sung everywhere. Unfortunately, such announcements often prove misleading. I look, by the way, in vain for an advertisement of the Marquis de Leuvillo’s “Samoa,” not long ago described as “ the greatest song ever written.” The Marquis looms as large as over I believe on the horizon of his own particular world, but since the expose anent his employing a claque to encore “ Samoa ” at the Empire, he has absented himself from the resorts of Lower Bohemia. The “stately foreign nobleman” cannot stand chaff, and there are unfortunately irreverent personsin Bohemia who would (it is to bo feared) rejoice in “lotting the Markess have it hot.” Grossmith’s tour is causing his comic song to be sung everywhere. Corney Grain’s latest success, “The Polka and the Choir Boy,” can be sung effectively by anyone capable of improving on the accompaniment a bit. It describes and displays how the writer of an unsuccessful polka converts it into a pathetic ballad, a la Sullivan’s “choirboy.” “ The Bondman.” The sermon which Hall Caine preaches in “ The Bondman ” is (as I mentioned last week) the same as Robert Buchanan preached some years back in his powerful novel, “God and the Man,” viz, the wickedness and inutility of oaths of revenge. In each story the hero who has been terribly injured by an enemy prays that this enemy may be delivered into his hands that he may kill him. When, however, the time comes and the wish is granted ho not merely saves the man’s life but ultimately lays down his own in order that he may be happy. The lines of the two stories are nob quite the same, but they are sufficiently alike to lead (if I’m not mistaken) to the inevitable charge of plagiarism. The scene of “The Bondman ” is laid partly in Iceland and partly in the Isle of Man. The Icelandic portion is very sketchy, and leaves one with only vague ideas to to what life on that desolate island was like, bub the Manx men and women with their quaint customs and traditions are (as in “ The Deemster ”) admirably described. Mr Caine himself thinks “ The Bondman ” the best piece of work he has ever done. I doubt if the critics will agree with him. For one thing the book must suffer from comparison with

Buchanan’s story, which it infinitely grander and more poetic in both conception and execution. Still you must not pass by “The Bondman” when it comes your way. A dramatic version is, I understand, being played now in the States, with Wilson Barrett as the red-haired hero Jason, and Miss Eastlake as the quaintly christened G'reeba. It seems to be a succes d’estime.

Forthcoming Boons. Mrs Lynn Linton, who has become a redhot Unionist since she visited Ireland, is about to publish a pamphlet in which she will explain far more fully than it was possible to do in the short article she wrote for the “New Review,” the causes which led to her change of attitude. Montague Williams’ “ Leaves of a Life ” will contain some new and highly interesting particulars of the causes celebres in which he was employed as counsel, notably tho Fenian Trials of 1867, Madame Rachel’s “ Beautiful for Ever ” cases, the Tichborne Imposition, the Great Turf Frauds, and the trials for murder of Lamson, Lefroy, and Peace.

Dr. Pigon, the Dean of Chichester, who has long been a very popular personage in smart broad church circles, is about to “reminisce.” John Murray will be his publisher. An experienced bookseller explains the enormous sum Stanley is receiving for his new work on the ground that the demand for books of travel is far more ephemeral than of any other class of light literature. Works on Africa (even by fourth-rate men) invariably sell ; whilst for the standard books of Livingstone, Stanley, Wallace, Darwin, and Lady Brassoy there is a steady demand all the year round. Tens of thousands of copies of “ The Voyage in the Sunbeam ” are sold annually to schools as reading books, a special edition having, indeed, long ago been printed for the purpose. The cheap series of standard scientific travels issued by Ward Lock has been an extraordinai'y success. Literary Notes. Dr. Westland Marston passed away quietly on Tuesday, at the great age of 91. He wrote a large number of plays, and a fair proportion were successful. The best known are “ A Hero of Romance,” in which Sothern made a hit during his salad days at the Hay market, and “ A Life for a Life,” in which the town flocked to see the beautiful Miss Neilson. This actress was then in her first youth, and had the loveliest face and brown curling hair. Subsequently she dyed it golden, which gave her rather a bizarre look. I confess I prefer her in “ A Life for a Life.”

London, January 31. The Recent Gales—Narrow Escape of the Catalonia. The series of devastating storms which terminated with the furious S.W. gale of Saturday and Sunday last, have been exceptionally destructive to shipping. From all quarters come reports of wrecks, partial and total, and as yet, of course, w T e only know a portion of the damage done. Even the Atlantic liners seem to have had a bitter bad time. In this connection it is distinctly worth noting that whereas those comparatively old-fashioned tubs, the Cunard steamers Gallia and Catalonia, were terribly smashed up, and (in the case of the latter) narrowly escaped foundering, the new liners City of Chicago and Teutonic passed through the same awful weather well nigh unscathed. The Catalonia was in dire straits for two days. Not only did mountainous seas carry away her boats and bulwarks, buc the saloon skylights were smashed completely in and the passengers • suddenly found themselves up to their necks in water. This catastrophe was followed by the engine-room fires being put out, and then indeed things did seem at their worst. The engineers and stokers however, worked like Trojans, and eventually managed to get the vessel under weigh again, in the saloon /the scene would have) defied even Clarke Russell’s descriptive powers. The

sea had carried everything away, and as the vessel rolled heavily the immense body of water in the saloon washed an olla poilrida of fittings, crockery, glass, and passengers’ luggage from side to side. The state-rooms were likewise flooded, and several of the passengers were without a dry stitch for a week.

Another narrow escape was that of the Channel steamer Paris, which broke down midway between Dieppe and Newhaven in the height of the gale, and narrowly escaped drifting ashore at Cape GrisDez. There were fifty passengers on board,so that the catastrophe would have been serious. The other Channel steamers crossed and recrossed during the worst weather without disaster.

Great ' Heiresses. Five millions is the fortune which the late “ Father of the House of Commons,” Mr Christopher Rice Talbot, has left to his three daughters. Miss Talbot, who inherits the lion's share of this wealth, is an elderly maiden lady, known throughout Wales for her kindness of heart and munificent yet discriminating charity. The second daughter is an incurable invalid, and the third married Mr Andrew Fletcher, of Saltadale. To the last named’s son, a lad of nine, who has vast estates in the West of Scotland, the greater part of this money will (if he behaves himself) ultimately descend. The second Mias Talbot and Mrs Fletcher were willed a cool £1,000,000 a-piece. A Curious Relic.

Colonel Gourand, Mr Edison’s representative in Europe, possesses an eerie but precious relic of Robert Browning. Some months ago the Colonel was displaying the phonograph to a pleasant party at Lady Burdett-Coutts’s, amongst whom was the veteran poet. The hostess suggested Mr Browning should recite something into the instrument, and, nothing loth, he commenced “ How We Took the Good News From Aix to Ghent.” Half-way through the poem, however, memory failed the old man ; stopping abruptly, he exclaimed, “Dear me! how annoying! I'm afraid I’ve forgotton the rest.” Great was the amusement of the company when the phonograph, after reciting the ballad precisely as Mr Browning hacl done, paused a moment, and then reproducer! the exact tone of irritation in which he ejaculated “ Dear me !” etc. Dinner Bells.

The “Speaker” waxes satirical over the epidemic ot public dinners which seems to have broken out nearly as severely as the influenza during the last few weeks. Almost every night there has been a big banquet, with subsequent speechifying at one or other of the leviathan hotels or restaurants. The “Speaker’s” poet: — First for tlie funds of the National leprosy: Then for toe joy of the Penny post Jubilee Now for The Don. for he Shortly will cross the sea ; Aye, for all sakes let us dine and dine. Aye, though the singer’s dead, Westminster Abbey said: Aye, though the soldier dies. Now St. Paul’s bell replies Unto their memory Fill the glass silently; All men must die, hut we dine and dine. Ireland, with meaning eye, Stares at our revelry ; Portugal, cursing us, Hears the glass clinking thus ; Spain, with downcast head. Watches an infant’s bed : Wc, who are Englishmen, dine and dine.