A NEW ZEALANDER IN MELBOURNE.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 470, 10 May 1890, Page 4

A NEW ZEALANDER IN MELBOURNE.

NOTES ON VARIOUS TOPICS. A private letter from a New Zealander says : I arrived in Melbourne one evening about half-past seven. Not having seen the papers for a couple of days and hearing a sound of great cheering while passing the Town Hall, I asked one of the crowd waiting admission what was “on.” “Henry George,” he replied, and a little while afterwards I formed one of the crowded audience that, according to che next morning’s papers, gave him a patient and impartial hearing. He spoke for nearly two hours. I had lately read him up, and was surprised to find that in speaking he was, at times, what we should consider quite ungrammatical. For instance, when he asks “ Where does this wealth come from ? It don’t come from the clouds, it don’t, etc.” He is, without doubt, an orator, but of a very different stamp to Sir George Grey—a splendid speaker, of course, but I couldn’t help thinking that he would lose nothing by hearing Sir George, and noting the effect of the G.O.M.’s calm, easy way—free from extremes in the rise and fall of voice, from the startling halt, and the physical accompaniment (to coin a word) that characterise his own delivery. You will soon have this eminent writer in Auckland and an opportunity of hearing him yourself. He is sure to create a stir as he has done here, for he gives people plenty to think about, whatever his little defects in oratorical style and manner may be.

FAMILIAR FACES. Melbourne is a pleasant change after being away in this wide country for several months, and one invariably meets friends passing through, either at the Coffee Palace or at one of the restaurants in the city. I passed a very pleasant evening with K. and P., two Aucklanders, at a new French restaurant that is now very popular in Melbourne. In order to do justice to the elaborate mam provided at this place, you are expected to spend about an hour and a half over your dinner. This just left us time to stroll leisurely up to the Princess’ Theatre to see Mrs Brown Potter and company. Mrs B. P. has been rather roughly handled by the Melbourne press. The general opinion seems to be that she is a very fascinating woman with any amount of nerve that leads her to imagine she can play in pieces like “ La Tosca,” written for Sara Bernhardt. And the critiques strike one as being fair. “La Tosca ”is a most tragical piece. The heio is shot. The friend whom he hides from the villainous Chief of Police, who is looking fer him on account of his revolutionary sentiments, commits suicide. The heroine (Mrs B. P.) throws herself into the Tiber, after stabbing the said Chief of Police. But, somehow, it was hard to take all this seriously—you felt as if you were reading some blood and thunder novel, or penny dreadful. True enough it may be, as characteristic of time and place ; but who wants to read chapter after chapter about the bad old bygone days? I have forgotten to say, too, that a torture scene is the most striking situation in the play. The heroine is being questioned by the Chief of Police (on the stage) as to the whereabouts of the revolutionary. The hero is also being “questioned” in the next room by his men, but in the Inquisition sense of the term, between the heart-rending groans that he cannot suppress, he is heard forbidding her to answer the Chief of Police, and you can imagine the scene. P.’s hair was on end half the time, and he was not in sympathy with the discussion that ensued when we talked the play over afterwards. He thought we had no soul. It was pleasant to note that the audience saw something of the ridiculous, which they certainly did, even in the most horrible part of the affair. There was nothing in the piece, as far as I could see, and none of the elevating influence that some dramas have. We youngsters agreed, by two to one, that twenty years hence a play like “La Tosca ” would be grinned off, if not laughed off the stage. Mrs Brown Potter wears magnificent dresses, so they say, and not knowing anything about it, I took that for granted, For this reason she is unkindly alluded to as Mrs Gown Trotter, by the funny papers. I hope you will have an opportunity of seeing the Company, but am not sure if they intend going to New Zealand. RAILWAYS. They go on with railways very vigorously in Victoria, and a new Bill for constructing further lines is promised shortly. The Premier has promised trial surveys of between 6,000 and 7,000 miles demanded in various directions. It makes one feel that he is in a decidedly “booming” country. They say that 1,000 miles will probably be in the new Bill. Meanwhile, the railway people are kept busy until the trial surveys are completed. No Easter holidays have been given, the men even working on Good Friday. Anyone having religious scruples was not obliged to work. Most of the men had such scruples strongly developed, until they found there would be no pay for those who did not work. This discovery led to a general reconciliation of conscience with the new order of things, and they all turned to. The arrangement was fair enough as far as I could understand, as the holidays will be given later on with interest. From what I can learn from New Zealanders employed by the Government on railways and other public works here, the pay is much about the same for most branches as in New Zealand. But work is more certain, their positions are much more assured, and they are treated with much more consideration, They have free railway passes and other things that cost Governmont nothing, but attach them to the service and create a strong esprit de corps. All that I have met like the Victorian service and people very much, but there are few who would not prefer their own New Zealand. A large number of young New Zealanders are now in Victoria and New South Wales. Most of them are skilled in some calling or profession. The people here all wonder why, if New Zealand is such a fine country, they cannot li%-e at home. I cannot tell them, can you ?