Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

14 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

IlV anb OnHt the æDitst

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

IlV anb OnHt the æDitst ûTICES TO CORHESPONDESTS. RAD. T. "—Why should this paper publish long reports of political meet- ings and concerts which are not advertised? «< T.R."—I try to remember with what indifference, in my youth, I looked at men as old as I am. Try to be wise. Very likely you are an obstacle in the road. NONCON."—Ministers of religion often have a dreary time when they have outlived their youthful enthusiasm. A great fund should be established for augmenting salaries. There are far too many Nonconformist bodies. "TEACHER."—It is no use trying to improve the education system. It is entirely in the hands of academic cranks and reform, at present, is impossible. "A WOMAN."—The cause of women is making headway all over the world. The injustice they have to bear is very great. Reform is a slow process. OBSERVATIONS. The difference between dust and mud does not depend on some change in the dust but is due to the addition of mois- ture' which itself is not changed by con- tact with the dust. The increased value of things is rarely due to any change in the things, but is almost always due to altered relations between the things and those who want them. I have far more pleasure in chasing elusive thoughts and at last embodying them in words than I could have in chas- ing a harej or rabbit, or other creature and at last capturing it. There is nothing more terrible in human experience than to discover that the love you cherished and depended upon never existed. It would be a. sad thing for the old if children could remember their first im- pressions of them. Nothing is so hard to bear as the un- reasonableness of those who do not agree with us, and nothing seems to be more reasonable than that we should disagree with them. I like to think of a doctor groaning with rheumatics as he painfully climbs the stairs to visit a patient whose affliction is less than his own which he cannot cure. I WANT TO KNOW. Mr. Stead says that he is in communica- tion with the late Mr. Gladstone. I wish he would ask Mr. Gladstone what he now thinks of Mr. Joseph Chamberlain's political views? TO HEAVEN ON THE OHEAP. The Rev. C. Bird, the vicar of Norman- ton, has been showing people how can get to heaven on the cheap by belong- ing to the Church of England. He says that if a person elects to call himself a Churchman, he ts not really compelled to contribute a farthing—or, at any rate, he can make a respectable figure in the Church at a ridiculously small cost to himself. Therefore, for anyone who wants to be considered a Christian, or who dis- likes the idea of being thought irreligious, the Church offers a great advantage as being beyond doubt the cheapest form of religion." I wonder if this sort of religi.ous people have to take back seats in heaven, or, do they, after all find their way to the other place? WAITING. I waited in vain to be asked to take the office of Mayor and aJso to be made an alderman of the borough and the county. I further want to be made a deputy- lieutenant. I am really anxious to be a deputy-lieutenan*. When I get all these overdue honours I slhall need a, few thou- sand pounds from Mr. Carnegie in order to pay subscriptions. I think it is high time that "my claims" should be attended to. I am getting old, and unless the honour-givers hurry up there will be nothing left for me but a. nice funeral and an artificial wreath or two and a hideous slate tombstone with some lies on it. MY GOD. My God, I have no fear of Thee, Nor will I ask Thee to be just; Thou art Almighty God to me And in Thee I place all my trust. I do not comprehend the plan On which this universe is built, Nor do I know Row mortal man Became a thing of shame and guilt. I do not wish to ta"ke Thy place, Nor do I seek to thwart Thy will, I have not seen even Thy face Yet would Thy slightest wish fulfil. I know not whitherward I go, Or what this thing called life doth mean; Though fear and doubt and pain I know, I know not all that might have been. The past is hidden from my sight, The future in deep darkness lies; I wander throngh earth's cheer lass night Unknowing what is just or wise. 0; God, I seem to be too small For any thought or care of Thine; Thou art the mighty Lord of All: My hope is all things are divine. With rain and dew and grass and weed, With things that creep, or swim, or fly, I have both common lot and need And Thou dost never pass them by. fTake from me vanity and pride? Take from me dread and doubt and fear, ithhdld all that flor which I cried, And make me feel Thou art near. NOVEMBER. November has a strange fascination for Hie that no other month possesses. The woods are never so beautiful, never more eilent, never grander in their gorgeous, stately majesty. The occasional flutter or twitter accentuates the solemn stillness and suggests something that my senses Me not keen enough to comprehend. I feel as if ages and ages ago I had been part of scenes like this and might at any moment recover the memory of all that had once been. Perhaps we are nearer than we think to the abyssmal past which the woodis in November suggest and, perhaps, in some measure repeat. I cannot say all that November in the woods means to me, but some of by friends, even if they also are dumb, will probably know what I mean and will have some measure of sympathy and fellowship with me. THE LORDS. Lloyd George's Budget now is with the Lords Who guard with greedy avarice their hoards And think the poor out of their daily bread Should shield them from invasion which they dread— Invasion which is just the brainless craze Of fools whose fear their loyalty betrays. JAM POTS AND GRIEF. I have no doubt that the dead, if they could, would object to jam pots on their graves. Perhaps Mr. Stead, who is new talking with the dead, will get to know 1 what they think of rain-filled jam pots a? a sign of grief. Next to jam nets I think, í as a dead one, I would object to t n and artificial flowers. It is c wonderful how jam pots and tin erosscs and artificial flowers outlast the sorrow of the bereaved! 1 AND THEN WHAT? The State funeral of Prince Ito, who was recently ajssassinated, took place at Tokio the other day and was of a most imposing character. What matter did it make to Prince Ito how imposing his funeral was ? Prince Ito was dead. What I want is something while I am alive. QUITE RIGHT. The Mayor of Plymouth urges. the use of the lethal chamber for the extermina- tion of the insane. Quite right. The first occupant, I suppose, of the lethal chamber will be the Mayor of Plymouth. I condemn him to be insane and I have as much right as anybody else to reach this decision. Next please. THE VAIN SIDE OF HUMANITY. One of the amusing experiences of a newspaper writer is to be brought into close and frequent touch with the vain side of humanity. Human vanity in its extreme vainness crops up in most unex- pected places and is sometimes quite startling in its nature. The occasions for the manifestation of vanity are apparently innumerable and are not confined to any condition of life. The street hawker may be as vain of his basket as a duke is of his escutcheon or his pedigree. I have never been able to see why anybody should be proud about his pedigree, as all of us must have descended from remote an- cestors—even from the primal ape—if ape it was. Vanity, even in its exteme forms, is not without its uses and advantages, to say nothing of its undoubted power as a con- soler in times of humiliation and degrada. tion. The person who is down on his luck if he is very vain will make efforts which the person who is not vain would never make. Vanity will often keep a person physically dean who otherwise would become indifferent to filth. Personal cleanliness is one of vanity's chief assets. As a rule people do not know their own capacities and powers. They are lowly and do not believe in themselves. A little vanity gives them faith and hope. The boy whose father used to kill the squire's pigs, or the girl whose mother did the vicar's washing feels that he or she is somebody and refuses to be put down by a person who only killed pigs for butchers or who only did the washing for lodging- house keepers. The actor who has performed before the King or the Prince of Wales is upheld in ways that an actor would not be upheld who had ten thousand chimney sweeps or street corner men to witness his perform- ance. To be allied with royalty, however remotely, is soothing to personal vanity. For instance, in 1851, I saw the present King and the late Duke of Wellington and Queen Victoria. I am afraid they did not see me, but during the past sixty years I have felt a sort of kinship with royalty and a familiarity with dukes that I might never have felt if I had not seen the royal personages and the illustrious hero of Waterloo. Vanity is not by any means an altogether objectionable thing, especially if it is your own. It is often difficult to remember how little some people have to be proud of. In Wales, for instance, there are hundreds of poor labourers and small farmers who pride themselves on the fact that their sons are ministers, or schoolmasters or even college professors. They are vain. Again, the beautiful daughter of an obscure villager may marry a rich man and her parents are proud-vaimly proud—of her position, although she may be ashamed to have her own mother in her house as a visitor! There are forms of vanity which are kept secret, but they are not less valued by the vain person because he does not brag about them. T" once knew a man who prided himself all through his life on the fact that he attended the same school that a very celebrated man attended. He had actually played at marbles with that celebrated man when he was a fellow pupil with him. The vanity of the person who prides himself on his family—"my family, don't you know"—and the vanity of the person who is conscious of some sort of excellence which nobody else can see are quite com- mon, but the vanity I like is the sort that makes a person feel that the sound of his own voice is a sort of rare music and who, when he sees himself in a looking glass, feels that he really is a very superior person. I like the strut and the accent and the pose of the vain person. Perhaps the vain person who amuses me most is the man whose parents were poor and whose surroundingsi wiere very humble, who has risen to the dignity of a cheque-book and a credit balance at the bank. To watch him prune himself is worth a great deal more than all his money. He does not know that he is offensive and has no notion that he is a vulgar, low-bred cur, but he is both, and is vain besides. There is the vain justice of the peace, the vain town councillor, the vain cleric, the vain writer, the vain possessor of wealth, or power, or rank, or privilege or genius. I like to stand on the Marine Parade in summer and watch the crowds pass bv. I see the vain person and I laugh quietly to myself to think how little he realises that, perhaps, his chief use is to afford amusement to an old buffer like myself. My readers must not think that I have said all that I could say about vanity. Very likely I, myself, am vain in ways that I have never realised. It is possible, for instance, to be vain of one's humility, or obscurity, or indifference in reference to the things that other people prize. Ah, well, we know that all is vanity if it is not all vexation of spirit. A QUERY. I see that Mr. Vincent Evans, who is closely connected with th& Cymmrodorion Sooiety, has been knighted. I wonder if the Cymmrodorion Society ever presented him with its medal. If it did, and he has no further use for it, he might give it to me—or lend it to me for an undefined term of years. I really ought to have something. The Coast.

Poor Law Reform.

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CHRISTMAS GREETING CARDS.

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