"And, marvel of marvels, my children! In her more than a hundred

wars--save by her mistake in striving to coerce her own children in

America--she has never lost an inch of important dirt by force. And,

more glorious still, every inch won from barbarism by her blood and

valor, has been handed over to civilisation and human progress.

"But, no! She won much in war, which, to the infinite loss of the

world, she gave back in peace.

"She took Cuba in war, restored order, and gave it back in peace.

Better for the world had she kept it.

"She took by war, and gave back in peace, the Philippines, Cape Colony,

Java, Sumatra, Senegal, Pondicheri, and more than twenty other valuable

possessions, all to the loss of the world--and yet she has been accused

of territorial avarice--of 'land hunger.'"

Right! Mr. Oseba, and had the politicians in Downing Street properly

backed the sturdy British wanderers, most of Oliffa would have been

painted red and done up in a shawl strap long ere this, and the

Brito-Yankee race would have been in a position to guarantee peace

among all nations.

"But, my children," he continued, "there are often sombre linings to

many resplendent clouds, and lest you may all conclude to rush out of

Cavitorus to these wonderful islands, I must show you a few of the less

attractive pictures.

"Remember, that for modern civilisation among the Outeroos, the world

is indebted to the colonial enterprise and success of Britain; but

remember, too, that it is not always the 'colonising nations,' but the

'colonists' of the 'colonising nations,' that carry the standard of

social progress to advanced grounds.

"The basis of modern colonial success, was, of course, in the fibre

of the British race; but for the resistlessness of British colonial

enterprise much was due to flagrant faults in Britain's domestic policy.

"We are land animals--we live on, and from the land, and Britain had

but 124,000 square miles of dirt. 'Room' was scarce, so people had

a 'far-away look.' But worse, a very few in the Motherland 'owned'

most all this meagre surface, so people saw opportunity only in a

change--for a deep love of liberty forced the evils of monopoly upon

their attention.

"Well these sturdy Britons, with the mixed blood of the rugged Danes,

Jutes, Celts, Saxons, Angles and others did not feel at home as guests,

serfs or tenants, so they began to roam around."

The orator said he would present a few little "reasons" why the

Shadowas would not care to "flock" to the British Isles, and also a

review of conditions that might have had some influence in arousing the

spirit of foreign adventure.

"They discovered," said he, "that of the 76,000,000 acres of dirt on

the whole British Isles, one man--great only in his possessions--owned

1,350,000 acres, while another owned 460,000 acres, the two being the

born owners of over 2 per cent. of the whole, upon which 40,000,000 men

were compelled to live.

"They found that about two hundred families owned about half of all the

land; that less than one per cent. of the people owned over 99 per

cent. of the land, and that more than 90 per cent. of the people were

absolutely landless.

"It is amusing, my children, to hear these sturdy British boast about

'my country,' when a few families own so much of all the land on which

all must live--if they remain at home. But observing the enormous power

enjoyed by the holders of vast estates in the old world, too many

sought by cornering the lands, to acquire like advantages in the new,

and in the correction of this ancient error, the best statesmanship of

the age is still required."

Mr. Oseba proceeded to explain that as from many seemingly indefensible

situations beneficent results often arise, it could hardly be doubted

that the inherited curse of British landlordism has, in a most imposing

"disguise," been a "blessing" to civilisation.

It impressed the thoughtful "subject" with the incomparable importance

of the land to life itself, especially when population began to

crowd; and it forced upon the attention, even of the thoughtless, the

enormous influence and real power wielded by the possessors of large

estates. The class inequalities that arose through the inheritance by

the few of the source from which all must live, drove hosts of the

most intelligent, sturdy, and self-reliant of the people to distant

countries, and determined them to provide in the new home against the

evils that had expelled them from the old.

From loathsome slime we clutch the glittering prize,

And grand results from hard conditions rise.

As these emigrants loved the Motherland, they desired to remain loyal;

as they had learned the advantages of land holdings, each desired to

secure his own home; but remembering the past, they sought to provide

that the limits of each to live from another's toil should be narrowed.

Not by violating the rights of property "owners," but by securing the

rights of property "creators," were new ideas popularised.

"But these inheriting world-owners," said the orator, "as a rule, have

a pretty good time, though none of them have been permitted to remain

long enough on their particular slice of Oliffa for it to get stale."

Reluctant to leave Britain, but anxious to pick up some of her

wandering children, he closes our mother's case with this fond caress:--

"While these people of Britain are the salt of the earth, it is the

offspring, and not the land-owner, who is to lead in the future social

contests.

[Illustration: _Waterfall, Waikaremoana._]

"Come to think of it, it is not 'Britain,' but the 'Briton,' that, like

Atlas, carries the world on his shoulders; and 'tis the 'Briton' who

is the 'salt of the earth,' while 'Britain' is the salt mine."

"DARKEST AFRICA" FINALLY DISCOVERED.

Oseba then turned his instruments on Africa. He told his audience that

while along the fringe of this half-mythical land there were glimpses

of a very ancient movement, the vast interior, until almost yesterday,

was a veritable _terra incognito_, and to-day it is not easy to

separate the grain of truth concerning its history from the cartload of

fiction.

But Britain was now rolling up the sombre curtain, and opening the

doors of her fabulous treasure-house that the "grateful" (?) nations

might enter and take rooms.

Africa, the sage told his audience, covered one-fifth of the land

surface of the outer globe, and had a population of 150,000,000 souls,

or more than live in all the Americas and their islands. It has a

doubtful history, thousands of years old. It was once so "civilised"

that it housed three-hundred Christian Bishops, yet, to-day there

is but a small portion--the Cape--that can claim more than a mere

introduction to modern civilisation.

The orator informed the people, as he threw a series of pictures on the

canvas, that many of the European nations were striving to extend their

borders in Africa, and to the sorrow of the natives, they were now

being pretty generally "discovered."

HUMAN RIGHTS.

Oh! sacred rights of man, ordained of God, yet only won by blood,

and tears, and toil.

Here there was a digression, and an essay on "the rights of man,"

for the poetess Vauline inquired by what "right" the Europeans were

"portioning out Africa," if that country had already 150,000,000 people?

"This," said the sage Oseba, as he moved his eyes from his admiring

critic to his audience, "this is a pertinent question; but remember, my

children, most of the inhabitants of Africa are black--they are very

black."

"But is that an answer to my question?" said the poetess Vauline.

"Well," said Oseba, "it would be so deemed among the Outeroos, for

questions of right and wrong do not apply to people who are unbleached."

This created great surprise, for the Shadowas had not gone entirely

through the bleaching process.

"But why, among so-called civilised people, have the blacks no rights?"

said the poetess Vauline.

"Plain enough," said Mr. Oseba, "for black people have no

blunderbusses, and among the most civilised Outeroos 'rights' are

measured by the carrying power of the guns and the skill of the men

behind them. Among all the 'civilised nations' on Oliffa 'right' is

measured, not by the pleadings of the master, not by the demands of

humanity or justice, but in the first instance by color, for this

indicates the capacity of the blunderbusses, and the nerve of the

gunner.

"Yellow have rather more rights than black people, for they sometimes

have a few guns and some saltpetre. 'Thou shalt not kill' and 'Thou

shalt not steal' apply only to white men; and even then, only to small

neighborhoods or in police affairs, for 'nations' are above these

honeyed ravings, and expediency, not right, becomes the patriotic guide.

"But, my children, as John Bull is rapidly painting Africa red, we will

preserve an open mind regarding that much-talked-of and little known

country, though for the present it is no place for saints or Shadowas.

"I may say, in referring to colour in the discussion of questions of

right, that 'red' is considerably respected. Then, too, of recent

years, with improved tastes among the nations, 'red, white and

blue,' thusly arranged is quite respected, while 'yellow' is very

unfashionable, and 'green' is mostly admired when in uniform.

"That black Africa will, ere long, be about all red, about all

British--at least in language, in sentiment, in human sympathy, in

social, industrial and political methods and aspiration, if not in

allegiance--can hardly be doubted; and as her ideals alone of all the

races on the upper crust would satisfy us, our children may hope for

further communication with these British-African colonies."

SPANISH AMERICA "DISCOVERED."

The orator here hesitated, then threw the map of what he termed

"Spanish America" on the screen.

"This, my children," said he, "is Spanish America, with an

area--including Central America and Mexico--of over 8,000,000 square

miles, and a population of about 50,000,000 souls. This is a 'new'

country, called 'new' by the Outeroos because it had been little

improved since the old occupiers were blessed and sent to heaven."

The orator claimed that, in forest, in soil, in mineral wealth, and in

all the resources of Nature necessary to the subsistence of a great

population, South was probably superior to North America; yet, behold

the mighty difference! The world had never presented so conspicuous an

opportunity for weighing the merits of different races as colonisers

and civilisers as are shown in the present conditions of South and

North America, and all these marvellous disparities lie in the

character of the invading or colonising races.

North America sprang from the loins of Britain; South, from the

loins of Spain. That tells the story. But a comparison in all the

late colonial enterprises of the world, shows Britain to hold an

equally favorable position, for of all the "foreign" dependencies

of all the other nations of the globe, there is not one that enjoys

a sufficient degree of liberty and social progress to render it

self-supporting--possibly, save Java, held by the Dutch.

The 50,000,000 Spanish-Americans, he observes, write less than one-half

the number of letters written by 5,000,000 Canadians, and they have

less commerce than 4,500,000 Australians, and less newspapers than

800,000 New Zealanders--and education and commerce means civilisation.

A TEMPEST.

Here the sage amusingly described a Spanish-American revolution.

He said:--

"When the young men of any city become weary with the more common

excitements, the theatre and the bullfight, they organise a

'revolution.' For this 'outing' they call together their friends, arm

themselves, establish a camp on the outlying hills, and make ready

for 'slaughter.' The 'loyalists'--salaried clerks usually, with a

few hangers-on--rush out to meet the belligerents, and approach to

within a reasonably safe distance, when both sides 'fall in,' fire

simultaneously--each over the others' heads--when all break and run for

the treasury.

"If the 'loyalists' win the race they vote themselves extra pay, smoke

a cigar, and enjoy a _siesta_; while if the others win, the treasury is

looted, a new set of clerks installed, the taxes are raised to repair

the damages, and the new 'push' enjoy the _siesta_.

"The security of the public from too frequent changes rests in the fact

that usually the camp of the 'loyalists' is taken up between that of

the insurgents and the treasury, so the 'loyalists' have a shorter run

to make in the home stretch.

"Think, my children, what civilisation would have been to-day had the

British been content to remain on their Island home, or had both the

Americas been permanently held by the Spanish race--or, to judge by

later history, by any other than the Anglo-Saxon.

"Well, my friends, I have no interest in booming any country, but if I

had owned all Spanish-America in 'fee simple,' and had a long lease on

Hades, I would rent my freehold out, and reside on my other holding."

(Leo remarks:--"Oh, for a laugh with Sir Marmaduke.")

"No," said the sage, "there is nothing worthy of imitation in

Spanish-America, and there is no room under the present rule in these

countries for the staid virtues of the Shadowas."

_SCENE VI._

AMERICA "DISCOVERED."

Oseba said he was now to return to rather favourite pastures. He was

now to review the situation of a country unanimously admitted, by

all its millions of proud and patriotic people, to be the "greatest

country," not only on this earth, but in the Universe--and this, of

course, meant America.

Leo Bergin, having been born in America, seemed to be "at home" to

these graceful compliments.

Oseba said that before he reached America, that country had been

somewhat "discovered" by a Mr. Morgan, who had much of it done up in a

shawl strap, but that it was still considerably in business.

This American nation, he said, sprang from the loins of Britain, and

its founders had inherited their fibre from that "classic land of

liberty." Being strongly imbued with the British spirit, and being

impressed by their novel surroundings, they broke the thread of

tradition, and, having established a government based upon the consent

of the governed, they demonstrated the possibility of a civilised state

without a king or a bishop.

Here the orator grew eloquent, "as if to the manner born," and I

quote:--

"America--North America--is the noblest country ever given by God to

his children--a country saved through all the progressive ages of

the world for a new experiment in human government, and here some

British adventurers opened a branch office. That they might 'worship

God according to the dictates of their own conscience,' they hurled

themselves in their frail barques, turned their prows--the ships'

prows--to three thousand miles of boisterous waves, and landed on

Plymouth's rock-bound shores. Here, defying titanic difficulties, they

scaled the mountains, levelled the forests, tamed the soil, and, from

the jaws of many defeats, they snatched a glorious victory. Here, they

erected new altars, blazed out a new destiny, and, rocked in the cradle

of Liberty by the untrammelled winds of heaven, they built a temple at

whose shrines the unborn generations could freely worship."

Here, the notes record that a young man in the audience smiled, while

poetess Vauline seemed good-naturedly surprised; noticing which, Amoora

Oseba faltered, and said:--

"Well, my children, those remarks would be very tame in America, and a

man who could not soar higher on a 'fitting occasion' would certainly

not be returned at the head of the poll."

But in material prosperity, the orator said that during the first

century of America's national life, she achieved not only unparalleled,

but unapproached success, and during the last half of that period

she accumulated more wealth than was ever possessed by any other

nation. With nearly half of the railways of the globe, she furnished

half the food and raiment products, and manufactured more goods than

any other four nations--aside from Britain--and by the brightest

inventive genius the world ever knew, she had furnished more of the

cunning devices that ease the care and toil of man, than all the world

besides.

[Illustration: _Queenstown, The Remarkables in the distance._]

In moral progress, she has been equally successful, for she had about

two-fifths of all the newspapers of the world; 72,000 post offices,

180,000 churches, 450,000 school teachers, and more libraries and

more readers than any other country; while more than half of the

institutions of higher learning on the globe were hers, and counting

only the real Americans, more enterprising, ingenious, intelligent and

educated people, than any other nation.

"Verily," said Oseba, "America was Britain's greatest contribution to

the world's progress. These two kindred countries flourished through

reciprocal interests; by their industrial methods they have lifted the

world from medieval barbarism, and they are destined to give their

language, their civilisation and their notions of liberty to the whole

human race."

Here the poetess Vauline inquired why America, with all her great

wealth and opportunities, would not be a desirable country to which to

send a colony of the Shadowas?

"A cloud was on his brow."

Oseba answered, "I love that great and wonderful country so deeply,

and I so much admire its splendid audacity, that I would gladly speak

kindly, even of its faults; but, my children, it is not all 'rosewater

and glycerine' in Yankeedom.

"In wealth, in enterprise, in education, in intelligence, and in

opportunities for further progress, America may justly claim to be the

foremost nation on the globe, and she has 'rights' no other would care

to dispute. But,--

'The people, Oh! the people,

Those much lower than the steeple.'

It is they, of whom we may profitably inquire. A nation may be rich,

though the people may be poor; a nation may be strong, while the people

are weak; a nation may be feared because the people can be relied upon

to obey designing masters, but the true greatness of a nation must ever

depend upon the quality of the individuals composing the nation.

"In America, my children, they sing many choruses. Listening across the

sea, the groans of despair are heard, mingled with the inspiring chants

of robed priests, and, the public heart being touched with pity, the

bandmaster mounts his pedestal, looks serenely benevolent, and, raising

his baton with gracefully curving signals, the populace join in one

voice:--

'Come, ye, from lands oppressed,

Come, ye, from east and west,

Come, join our happy throng,

Come, join in joyous song,--

For in this goodly land, nor want, nor poor,

No kings oppress, no beggars seek the door.

In Plenty's beauteous lap we wile the days away,

Come, 'walk into our trap'--why need you long delay?'

"These dulcet tones were always supposed to help fill the immigrant

ships, the vacancies caused by the strike, and the land-boomer's

pockets, but just as the last faint echoes die away, there arises from

the narrow lane 'hard by'--just off Broadway--the plaintive wail:--

'Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,

E'er the sorrow comes with years?

They are leaning their young heads against their mothers,

And _that_ cannot stop their tears.

The young lambs are bleating in the meadows,

The young birds are chirping in the nest,

The young fawns are playing with the shadows,

The young flowers are blowing toward the West,--

But the young, young children, O my brothers,

They are weeping bitterly!

They are weeping in the playtime of the others,

In the country of the free.'

"Of course, my children, these borrowed lamentations may come from

the fellows who were left out in the cold at the last elections, for

one 'can't most always sometimes tell,' in America, whence come the

inspiring motives of the entertainment.

"Let me tell you a little story, my children.

"One November afternoon, while on a west-bound train, I had as a

travelling companion a very intelligent, patriotic, and sorrowful man.

His manner was subdued, his voice was plaintive, and he spoke earnestly

of the condition of his country.

"Skipping his most emphatic words, and toning down portions of his

most lurid sentences, I will recite to you the substance of his fervid

oration as we hurried over the plains to overtake the rapidly sinking

sun.

"Speaking of the greatness of America, my friend said, 'Some qualifying

words may be necessary, or the ideas sought to be conveyed may be

confusing. We Americans,' said he, 'boast of "equality before the law,"

yet in no other civilised country has favoritism been carried to more

deplorable extremes. We boast of freedom, yet in no country does a

smaller number of men control the conditions under which all must live,

and we boast of our constitutionally guarded rights, yet the accidental

head of a party may exercise a power unthinkable by any constitutional

monarch of Europe.'

"'But with so intelligent a people, may not these abuses be remedied?'

"'Intelligent?' said he, with a sigh. 'The people in America are

frequently informed that they are very intelligent and free, but would

a very intelligent people shovel coal so furiously into the furnace of

a locomotive that was rapidly running their train to the devil?'

"'In theory, the Americans have erected the most symmetrical political

temple, at whose altars the devout head of patriotism ever bowed a

humble allegiance; but in practice,' said he with emotion, 'well, the

upper rooms are occupied by schemers and the halls are crowded by a

more rapacious set of money-changers than the Master whipped from the

temple of Jerusalem.'

"'Dollars, dollars,' said he bitterly, 'there is nothing in America

more potent than a million dollars.' Then after a moment's silence he

muttered, 'yes, five millions are more potent.'

"'However, it would be mockingly absurd,' he sorrowfully continued,

'for any American to hoist a danger signal, for the pleasures of

the occasion must not be marred; but,' said he, with a gleam of

satisfaction, 'while Belshazzar is playing high jinks at the feast,

Daniel is changing his slippers, making ready for a call. As a fact,'

said my companion, 'America is being looted by her caretakers, and,

while the Philistines are packing away the booty, the silly Samsons are

sleeping in the lap of Delilah.'

"My friend was eloquent and impressive--his language was lurid and

expressive, his manner was quite American, and I sympathised with him,

for 'tis sad to behold the patriot, sitting with bowed head and solemn

visage, contemplating the waning glory of his own proud country, and he

seemed very earnest.

"Well," said Oseba, "we pulled up at a pretty city where there was

confusion, and my friend disenrailed. As he stepped off, he met

some friends. They, too, looked unhappy, and, feeling inquisitive,

I alighted, and observing a pleasant looking fellow on the platform

I approached him, and waving toward my late companion's party, I

interrogatively said: 'Funeral?'

"The man actually laughed, and observing my seriousness, and that I

was not of his country, he laughed again, and glancing at my friend's

group, he said:--

"'Funeral, stranger! We've had an election, and it was the d----st

landslide ever seen in these parts, and he--ha! ha!--is out in the

cold.'"

Oseba, the notes say, remarked that the bell rang, he "waved" to his

companion, re-entered his train, dropped into his seat and--thought.

A DIGRESSION.

The notes indicate that Mr. Oseba was deeply affected by the

revelations of his "travelling companion." He need not despair.

This race has been rather prominently before the footlights for some

time, and it is of such a mixed and sturdy stock that it seems endowed

with the spirit, if not of "perpetual," at least, of long-continued

youth.

The Anglo-Saxon has not yet filled his mission, and surely America

should not, so early in its unparalleled career, betray evidence of

decadence. While "grow quick, decay quick," seems to be a law of

nations, as well as of Nature, while wealth is often an evidence of

injustice, and while in numbers there are often germs of weakness,

with America still in her vigorous youth, there must be virtue in her

strength sufficient to meet these very apparent difficulties.

It must be remembered, too, that America, though she had great

opportunities, had a stupendous task before her at her birth as a

nation. In vindication of an inherited British instinct, the "British

colonies" revolted against a king, too Dutch to appreciate a British

sentiment, and a parliament, too weak to resist him, and the "British

American" colonies became the "American nation."

But the responsibilities of the new nation were as tremendous as her

opportunities were fabulous. Politically, she was adrift without pilot

or compass, and she set about to erect a temple on whose altars her

people might worship, and, without law or precedent, she built, better

than she knew, a theory of government the astonishment, the pride, and

the admiration of a hopeful world.

Well might the heads of the people have been a little turned, but lured

by the most tempting opportunities ever offered to man, they hurled

an awakened energy against the doors of the treasure house of Nature,

and soon marched among the leaders of industrial art--yes, away in the

vanguard. In defence of her commerce, her little navy was the first

to humble the Barbary pirates that for centuries had levied blackmail

upon the whole Mediterranean trade. Her flag was soon seen in every

port, and from the profits of trade in her products, Britain laid

the foundation of a stupendous industrial system, that made her the

commercial mistress of the world.

Her pursuits were industrial, her ways were ways of peace. Soon she

carried one-third of the ocean tonnage, and the struggles of the whole

human race were being eased by her inventions.

During these formative stages of development, real poverty was unknown,

and great fortunes--such as are being heaped up to-day--had never been

dreamed of.

But what a period, and what a country for the development of character!

In those peaceful but industrious and frugal days arose that splendid

school of writers, poets, essayists, philosophers, publicists and

reformers of New England, and the orators, statesmen, and patriots of

the young days of the Republic. With such achievements, Mr. Oseba,

liberty cannot perish from the earth. The grotesque anomalies in

America are incidents of the changing times and will soon disappear.

But to the notes:--

"Room for a colony? Quantity, my children, but no tempting quality for

us.

"No," said Oseba, "earnestly I love America and her splendid people,

but the flag of social progress has been transferred to other lands, so

America must hold the 'phone, while others of that splendid race--more

strays from the Classic Isles--answer the calls of Justice and lead

Humanity to a broader, higher and nobler liberty.

"Well, I will ring off America, for while every phase of the recital

is so charming that one is inclined to loiter, we catch a glimpse of

coming scenes that hurry our hopes for a pleasing goal.

"From great and grand America, I took a long ocean voyage, my children,

and on the 'other side' I found the beginning of the end of my task,

for here, all the dreams of all my weary wanderings, and all the hopes

of all my fancied visions of better things, found realisation, and with

a glad heart I turned my thoughts to the friends of Cavitorus."

[Illustration: _The Lion Rock, 5000ft. high, Milford Sound_]

SCENE VII.

AUSTRALASIA DISCOVERED.

And they sent ships to distant lands, and brought gold, and copper,

and fine wool, and the merchants made much gains.

At this juncture the loved and lost Leo Bergin notes a short

intermission, for, as there is everywhere a limit to human endurance,

Oseba had grown weary.

During the recess, the notes inform us, there were many whisperings,

many doubtful shakes of the head, and many real fears expressed as to

results regarding the conclusions of the report.

"We have gone over the globe," said a learned-looking matron, "and we

have no encouragement."

"Better know the truth," said another.

"It is a matter of no small importance to Cavitorus," said a third.

The people stood, or sat, in groups and conversed earnestly, some

consulting a small globe which stood on the edge of the rostrum. At the

expiration of an hour, the people resumed their seats, Amoora Oseba

took the platform, and the audience was all attention.

When he arose, he told the people that he understood their feelings,

their hopes, their fears, and their anxieties. He had done his best,

and his devoted comrades had been as solicitous as he for their

beloved country and its cause. To err is human, but it were better

to be over-cautious than over-anxious for a change. Not all changes

mean progress, though this is not always understood, even by the world

leaders.

He told his audience they were not finished--Oliffa had not yet been

wholly reported upon, for they had made other discoveries. There were

yet two countries to inspect, and he bid them be of good cheer. He said

the countries to which he was now to call attention were quite "new" in

the sense that they had been known, even to the Outeroos themselves,

but a comparatively short time. He then turned on the light, exposed

the full globe, and proceeded:--

"The earth has practically been circumnavigated, and, when you have

seen all, I hope you will be satisfied with my efforts.

"We have visited all countries inhabited by man, and my discoveries

have revealed many interesting facts, suggesting many conclusions.

"Mankind," argued Mr. Oseba, "is akin. All sorts and conditions of

men emerged from a common ancestry. The vast differences in form,

color, language, custom and mentality have been caused by the varied

environing conditions slowly working throughout many ages. From common

passions, common wants and common efforts for their gratification,

has man slowly pressed forward, the pace varying as Nature invited or

forbade the movement.

"But genius has annihilated time and space. The world is being brought

in touch, and the race that improved the cunning of the hand, and

aroused the inquiry of the brain, is destined to guide, unify, and

dominate the world.

"The Anglo-Saxon is a peculiar compound of many mixed and sturdy

tribes, and in the genius of race, there is the magic potion that is

giving tone, language and inspiration to humanity.

"But the modern Briton is the finished product of Anglo-Saxon aims,

and inherited aspiration. The Briton is a trinity composed of English,

Irish and Scotch, a compound of the most stubborn vices and most sturdy

virtues ever found in an organised society.

"Janus was not a Briton; the Briton has but one face, and it is always

looking to the front. The Briton is sturdy, so he presses forward;

he is weary, and he never runs; he is tenacious, and he appropriates

everything having one loose end. Having more wants than industry, he

invents that he may be satisfied. He adjusts himself to new conditions,

so he hoists his flag over his new cabin and annexes all in sight.

Being dull as a linguist, the people of all climes have to learn his

speech, or abstain from the banquet of the present, and--the future.

"Yes, the British are of a sturdy race. They were developed in a

fine climate. But people can't live on climate, and these people had

appetites. No _thing_ can come from nothing. Thoughts and actions are

'products,' but the finished goods always reveal the character of the

raw material. Strange," he argued, "but as a man eats, so is he. The

Frenchman eats frog, and he dances; the Italian eats macaroni and he

runs a hand organ; while the Briton as a regular diet takes beef-steak

and lion, so he wanders about, and--paints the world red.

"In less time than it took the old nations to build a city, the

inhabitants of the small British Isles had pre-empted more than

one-fifth of the surface of the planet, and were masters of the

affections of a fourth of the human race. But the noblest works

accomplished by this resistless people are now to be revealed, for the

admiration of my countrymen."

Here he turned on the great forty-foot sphere to an axial angle of

twenty-three degrees, well exposing the Southern Hemisphere. After

noticing the southern orifice--the back door of Symmes' Hole--and the

difference in the distribution of land and water near the respective

poles, he turned the globe so as to give a fair exposure of Australasia.

In Oseba's more cheerful demeanor, his more ready speech, and his

radiant countenance, there was a gleam of joy, and when once the full

import of this new scene was appreciated, there was a generous burst of

applause--Leo notes, "almost enthusiasm."

"This," said the sage Oseba, "is the 'Austral climes,' the last dry

dirt on the surface of Oliffa, wholly rescued from darkness and devoted

to civilisation.

"Its color indicates its social condition--it is civilised and free,

for on Oliffa, my children, 'red' is the emblem of hope. 'Painting the

world red,' means turning on the light, and John Bull always carries a

bucket of carmine--and he often has a 'brush.'"

Oseba said that in the whole inquiry he had endeavoured to follow

an example set, many centuries ago, by a Personage whose advice is

constantly quoted on Oliffa--and more constantly ignored--of keeping

the best to the last.

Australia was of old called an island, but as in area it about equalled

the United States of America, and almost that of Europe--having near

3,000,000 square miles--it was now regarded as a "continent," though it

had less than 4,000,000 people.

"Room for a colony?" said the poetess Vauline, with something bordering

emotion.

"Yes," said Oseba.

But let us proceed cautiously. I boil down.

He said there was plenty of "room," and for sometime there would be

"room to let," but as a fact, while a lovely land, inhabited by a

splendid people, it was not quite all it seemed on the map. On the

borders of the "Australian continent," and reaching back long hundreds

of miles, there was much beautiful country, but there was a vast

interior, which, though red on the map, was almost too thin even to

hold the paint.

As a fact, much of the surface of Australia was afflicted, like many of

her people, with an insatiable thirst. To the uninformed, this "dry"

and hot interior gave Australia a "bad name," as people are usually

influenced by "sound," and they rarely stop to reflect how many grand

empires might be carved out from these fertile borders and plains.

He described how Cook "found" Australia in 1770, and how, by the

directions of Sydney, Colonial Secretary, it was first "colonised" in

1779. He recorded its struggles and growth during the silent years;

how colonial authority was exercised; how self rule, or so-called

"responsible government" was established; and how, to reach more remote

portions of the country from convenient seats of authority, several

autonomous colonies were formed.

Owing to the large expense of coming, immigrants were usually of the

better class; and, owing to the distance from central authority, the

colonist became self-reliant, and soon began to apply new ideas to new

conditions.

He dwelt with evident pleasure upon the development of the cities of

the continental colonies as splendid centres of wealth and population,

and praised the spirit that was ready to cast tradition to the winds,

and boldly experiment upon various expedients, that seemed a solution

for some pressing problem.

In describing Australasian cities, he declared that Sydney was the

most beautiful city on earth, having a society which, for culture

and character, equalled that of any other country. He admired the

competitive spirit as between the different or several political

centres, and of the many departures from old notions.

The courage of the people in the adoption of new political methods,

and their re-arrangement of the relations between governments and

industrial forces, seemed to please him greatly.

He declared that "these self-governing autonomous colonies, aroused by

inviting opportunities of a novel environment, inspired by a sphere of

undefined liberty, with reckless readiness to resort to new expedients

for the accomplishment of new purposes, had produced in Australasia, in

all the essentials of true worth, the highest average type of man and

womanhood on the surface of Oliffa--with the more isolated New Zealand

probably leading."

Oseba said the Australasians enjoyed a higher average plane of living

than any other people; they were better educated, better clothed,

better fed, and better housed, and, with comparisons made on the same

or like basis, they were the greatest commercial people on the globe,

with proportionately much greater banking power than any other people.

In proportion to population, these 4,500,000 Australasians had four

times the capital of the people of other leading countries, and their

commerce was four times larger.

He applauded the tendency towards holding the lands at nominal or

low rents for the use of the people; the construction, ownership and

management of the railways, telegraphs, telephones and other public

utilities, by the government for the convenience and use of the

governed, as the acme of political wisdom.

He claimed that the Australasians had confirmed every lesson of

history, for all experience taught that only through colonial

enterprise were experiments in legislation safe, and advanced ideas

crystallised into law. Small communities might safely experiment, and

when the people bore sway, the dangers possible from rapid changes were

preferable to the mildew of stagnation.

In political and social progress, in material prosperity and moral

worth, the people of Australasia were conspicuously at the head of the

procession.

Only through the influence of colonial enterprise, had real liberty

ever gained a substantial victory, and only through expedients

suggested by colonial necessities, had great economic changes hurriedly

come.

America, in her free and fearless youth, far excelled the motherland

in liberal legislation and economic progress, but the millstone

of aggregated wealth and "vested interests" weighed her down,

and she retired from the leadership, while Australasia, with her

novel surroundings and the experience of all the former ages to

contemplate, proposed to sail a little further over the inviting

seas of social progress, and her success had vindicated the wisdom

of her determination. At a time when many other nations were almost

madly pushing colonial experiments, she had written a new volume

corroborating the evidence of the centuries, that Britain alone, of

all modern nations, possessed the requisite qualities for successful

colonisation.

"Australasia deserves well of the world," said Oseba, "for under the

separate standards of her many colonial chiefs, she has moved the

people on to a most advanced position.

[Illustration: _Looking down the Mueller Glacier from Ball Pass, Mount

Cook._]

"But in Australia proper there has recently come a change that must

necessarily check the rapidity of Australian progress. Six of the

Australasian colonies--New Zealand not joining--have left the

skirmish-line, and formed into a less mobile mass. The light infantry

have buckled on heavy knapsacks--the flying artillery have been re-cast

into siege guns. The 'states' are now anchored to the past, and the

'Commonwealth' must be unwieldy. The members of this compact may chafe,

but the chains are unyielding, and the ponderous hulk, in which all the

luggage has been tossed, will be found cumbrously slow in its movements.

"As social groups, the Australians, in their 'free colonies,' were in

their vigorous youth--they were buoyant and ambitious. They looked

abroad, beheld what others had done, and said, 'Let us take another

step,' and being free and self-ruling, they were able to hurriedly

adjust their political machine to their local requirements.

"Inspired by novel environments, great opportunities and hard

necessities, the Phoenicians and the Greeks, as colonisers, gave to

Europe its commercial instincts; and, inspired by like opportunities

and necessities, the British have not only made the dreams of the

ancients a reality but they have created and firmly established modern

civilisation. America is the Carthage of Phoenicia. Australasia is the

_Magna Grecia_ of Greece. Australia has played well her part.

"But a new king has come, my children, 'who knew not Joseph,' and

no Moses can lead the people rapidly out from the shadow of the

'Commonwealth.'

"Australia has a genial climate; she has broad, fertile acres enough

to support a grand empire; she has a magnificent people, and she has

advanced the standard of social progress many a league, but a 'tribal'

exuberance has been hampered by allegiance to a central authority, so

the leadership in social progress must be passed to less incumbered

hands.

"The world stands in mute admiration at Australia's social

achievements; but, to gratify the ambition of a few men who desired a

broader field for the display of a splendid talent, she has lost her

'innings,' and 'New Zealand' has the bat.

"When the Commonwealth band struck up, it was whispered across 1,200

miles of sea to New Zealand, 'Will you walk into my parlor?' but the

sturdy Seddon answered, 'No, thanks! we will go ahead, and turn on a

little more light.'

"Then, while I love the Australians and shall ever hope for their

future prosperity, we will 'ring off,' and review the last, the

loveliest, and the most free and inviting field ever explored by man,

for already the colors are in worthy hands, and the leaders have

proposed to take another step."

Summing up for a conclusion, the sage Oseba said that China, even with

"opportunities," presented no varieties; and while Japan had variety,

she had no room. Europe was too strongly wedded to militarism for

healthy mental growth; Britain has become a park for her nobles; Africa

had the black plague; America was owned by the trusts, and was managed

in their interests by the party bosses; and Australia, like a child

crying for bracelets, had put on hand-cuffs.

"So, none of these answer the requirements of our commission," said

the orator, "and I now invite you, my children, to another series of

pictures in our elaborate gallery--'tis of my last 'discovery.'"

Here, pending the re-adjustment of the instruments, the audience

indulged in a few moments of lively conversation, for the promises

seemed to be more encouraging. But soon Mr. Oseba stepped to the front

with a confident dignity, and in a pleasing voice said:--

"My learned colleagues, and you, my beloved countrymen and women, I

have detained you long, and, that you might appreciate my conclusions,

I have gone somewhat into details in my extensive review. I have shown

you many of my discoveries, on the outer surface of our planet; I have

explained the political systems of many peoples, and I have observed

the play of your emotions as the conditions of men were portrayed; but

I now promise you only pleasing revelations, for in beauty, in climate,

in soil and social situation, I am going to show you the paradise of

Oliffa, and this means a portion of Australasia that declined to join

the federation of which I have spoken--it means New Zealand, on the

map, 'Zealandia,' with the poets, but Zelania, as it would be called in

our more musical speech, and by this euphonious title shall we speak

of that charming land. This, my children, was my last discovery, and

while many people on Oliffa don't care to be discovered at all, I hope

the 'Zelanians' will never regret my having landed on their blissful

shores."

_SCENE VIII.--Act I._

ZELANIA--MR. OSEBA'S LAST DISCOVERY.

Blue pencilling several eloquent pages, I am here constrained to use

the discretion generously given me, by choosing for myself the methods

of introducing the scenes of Mr. Oseba's last discovery.

It has been previously mentioned that Leo Bergin had "done newspaper

work in New Zealand," and here seems a proper place to re-refer to this

pleasing fact.

Leo notes that, pending a re-arrangement of the stage, there was a

brief intermission, and later, that having become weary from strained

attention, and drowsy from the soothing pleasures of the occasion,

his thoughts flitted back over the silent years, and falling into

a half-unconscious reverie, he seized the thread and wove from the

thrilling scenes of the past the panorama of a pleasing dream. In his

chant, we catch the echoes of a farewell to his native land, and,

floating away into aimless realms, he follows the devious path of other

days, where vaguely arise the fleeting phantoms of pleasures forever

gone.

[Illustration: _Hinemoa's Bath, of Legendary Fame_]

We know not the mystery of a dream, but in Leo Bergin's brain the

hoary mountains rise, the restless seas moan, and the scenes of

ever-enchanting Zelania unroll like a magic scroll. In modest phrase he

sings the memories of early wanderings, and that through his mental

gleams we may reach a higher appreciation of the unfolding views, I

quote his rippling rhymes:--

LEO BERGIN'S REVERIE.

Sweet home, adieu! With vent'rous crew,

I'm sailing o'er the ocean blue.

As on we leap, the eye doth sweep

The curving borders of the deep.

The days glide by, I gaze and sigh,

But nought appears, save sea and sky.

* * * * *

Behold! there rise, 'neath Southern skies,

Green Isles that greet our glad surprise.

Oh! lovely Isles, where Nature smiles,

And beckons to the "afterwhiles."

Here fancy drew, from old and new,

To give the soul extended view.

With air so mild, and scenery wild,

The Fates persuaded, led and smiled.

O! Craggy peak! O! Earthquakes freak,

Had I but words of you to speak.

Our course we take, through broom and brake,

To view the fern-embroidered lake.

Those lakes, so sweet, at mountain's feet,

Where weary strangers, strangers meet.

The waters blue, with swift canoe,

We skim, for glimpses weird and new.

We lift the eye to mountain high,

To where the snow-peaks kiss the sky.

O'er gorges deep, where shadows creep,

dark clouds cluster, pause and weep.

In dreamy mood, we pause and brood,

'Midst awe-inspiring solitude.

We list--a roar, that cometh o'er,

From danger scenes we would explore.

For ah! the spell! the geyser's well,

That hurls the sulphurous fumes from hell;

That flings on high, with thund'rous sigh,

Huge rocks, that smite the cloud-flecked sky.

But list, ye bands from other lands,

This monument of splendor stands,

In South Seas hurled, with flag unfurled,

"The scenic wonder of the world."

* * * * *

As here we scan old Nature's plan,

We seek her last, best work--a man.

Lo! he appears! nor hopes nor fears

Have vexed his soul through all the years.

With haughty pride--nor priest nor guide--

He ruled the land, as warrior tried.

Here chieftain brave, here King and slave,

Their lives to war and foray gave.

Here, dusky maid was ne'er afraid

To join the fray, in copse or glade.

With waving hair, and beauty rare,

Brave hearts these maidens did ensnare.

When beauty wild a chief beguiled,

He gazed in liquid eyes, and smiled.

Love makes amends, and often blends,

Wild warring factions into friends.

But strong the will, with tribesmen's skill,

The Maori was unconquered still.

* * * * *

Where Nature, kind, unfolds the mind,

Man is to nobler thoughts inclined.

Though brave, he's meek; he aids the weak,

And high companionship doth seek.

In social train, by hand and brain,

He wins and holds a vast domain.

He builds a State; 'tis weak or great,

As based on love, or fosters hate.

If Wisdom's eyes survey the skies,

Before their magic touch arise

Industrial arts, where loyal hearts

May rear and fill commercial marts.

If strong and just, and true to trust,

The coin of Truth can never rust;

And wise men see that none are free,

Save where there's large equality--

Where Law commands, that sturdy hands,

Shall freely cultivate the lands;

No coward slave, but free and brave,

Shall ever ready be to save.

Thus honest worth, o'er all the earth,

Conditions make, e'en more than birth.

* * * * *

'Twas said by Fate, these Isles must wait,

The builders of an ideal State.

Then with the breeze, 'cross Southern seas,

The Briton came, with high decrees.

New scenes arose, old wounds they close,

And friendship reigns 'mong ancient foes.

For Maori hate, by skill and--"fate"--

Was merged into the British "State."

United, free, they now agree

To dwell in peace,--"So mote it be."

* * * * *

Then of this man, and if we can,

We'll follow out his mystic plan.

For wise it seems, e'en in our dreams,

To build, with care, prophetic themes.

Then let us gauge the Seer and Sage,

As pass they o'er Life's mystic stage.

First, of the dead, it may be said,

While warm of heart and cool of head,

They saw the new, and though but few,

They laid foundations, strong and true,

On which to rear, without a fear,

This temple,--so imposing here.

By words sublime, in prose and rhyme,

They taught, for all-enduring time.

* * * * *

Then Seddon came, without whose name

This temple were unfinished frame.

But in his care, with graceful air,

The structure rose, with finish fair.

His sturdy stroke the times awoke,

As from Tradition's rules he broke.

Upon the land he scattered bands,

With willing hearts and sturdy hands.

To those once rent with discontent,

He even-handed Justice sent.

Now o'er the State, nor fear nor hate

Could find companion, small or great.

Look o'er the land, from peak to strand,

There's happiness on every hand.

* * * * *

Here Cities rare, exceeding fair,

Zealania boasts, with modest air.

At eve or dawn, we gaze upon

The busy, "blowy" Wellington.

Here, products great for ships await,

And here repose the powers of State.

Here, founding laws, for mighty cause,

The statesman long the session draws.

Here modest worth and homely mirth

Find more respect than rank or birth.

* * * * *

There's Auckland, too--'twixt me and you--

A beauty spot, excelled by few.

Round this fair cove, old Nature strove

To show the fickle feats of Jove.

Volcanic smoke in fury broke,

Until the heavens all awoke.

When cleared the skies, there did arise

A seat for earthly Paradise.

At mountains' feet, where lavas meet,

There Auckland sits, serene and sweet.

With seas afore, just off her door,

Where proud ships ride for evermore.

* * * * *

We note with care, with Christchurch, there

Are few that safely may compare.

For pride of race, for social grace,

She holds a high and honored place.

'Mid fertile plain of waving grain,

We search for lovelier spot, in vain.

Here, soul and brain; here, maid and swain,

A pure companionship maintain.

* * * * *

Dunedin stands, on favored lands,

'Twixt mountains high and ocean sands.

On beauty's spot, the "Canny Scot"

Has cast his ever happy lot.

With taste and skill, from rock to rill,

Dunedin reaches 'long the hill.

With vision free--upon the lee--

Dunedin gazes o'er the sea.

* * * * *

Full many more, 'tween hill and shore,

Are worthy of the poet's lore.

Though hard I seek, the words are weak,

Of nobler beauties now to speak.

While cities were, with beauty rare,

Contrived by man, with studied care,

The vale, the glen, the lake, the fen,

Were made by Him who maketh men.

The fields of grain, where honest swain

Earns honest bread, wave not in vain.

For West and East, both man and beast

Await to join Zealania's feast.

And from all lands, by skilful hands,

White sails are bent for Austral strands.

Here, finest wheat, by many a fleet

Is sent, the foreign marts to meet.

And finest fleece--in war or peace--

They shear, that wealth they may increase.

With choicest meat, both rare and sweet,

In "Merry England," they compete.

In farm or mine, with food or wine,

To lead the leaders they incline.

* * * * *

By skill they coil the threads of toil

Around the riches of the soil.

And, for the sake of gain to make,

Great enterprise they undertake.

* * * * *

Well, far and near, we've gathered here,

And all in all it doth appear

That higher goals and nobler souls

Are here, than elsewhere 'tween the poles.

* * * * *

Now wake, my Muse, do not refuse

To pay "my hostess" honest dues.

For ladies fair, with beauty rare,

Zealania boasts, beyond compare.

And smiles more sweet we'll never meet

Until we bow at Peter's feet.

Awake again and listen, when

Beholding strong Zealania's men.

'Tis writ by Fate, men only great

Could constitute this noble State.

Then sing for all, both great and small,

Each in fit place, that none may fall.

The dreams of seers, the hopes and fears,

Have gathered 'long the silent years,

And on these Isles, with radiant smiles,

Were cast the hoarded "afterwhiles."

* * * * *

Zealania fair, thou art the heir

Of all the cries of ancient prayer.

Here sturdy bands, with gen'rous hands,

Are guardians of these favored lands.

Then hail thee thrice--let this suffice,

Thou art Creation's Paradise.

* * * * *

Oh! float away--like mist in May,

Or rainbow tints 'mid ocean spray.

"I wake to sense--please, no offence,--

Forgive my drowsy indolence."

Well, indeed that is pretty; but let us down from Leo's fancies to Mr.

Oseba's facts, and while I shall strive to retain a seasoning of Mr.

Oseba's richness, time and the love of ease whisper persuasively of the

virtues of the blue pencil.

With more animated eloquence, Mr. Oseba resumed his oration. "The

audience," says Leo Bergin, "gave the most profound attention."

"Knowledge," said Mr. Oseba, "is a priceless treasure, but," with

a smile he continued, "many a good story has been spoiled by

over-inquisitiveness. Poetic fancy suffers from flirtations with cause

and conscience. Unless inquiry has been thorough, my children, it is

wiser, in most cases, to note impressions than to assume to record

facts, so I shall give you but a 'bird's-eye' view of these enchanting

isles, with the characters as they appeared before the visual camera

when I made my observations.

"Had I gone fossicking among the weary ones of Zelania, I should

doubtless have found many excellent people who, in some phase of the

inquiry, would have questioned the correctness of my conclusions. I

might have heard some sighs, amid the almost universal joy--some smiles

with the general congratulations, and some discordant groans mingled

with the generous applause--but where there is not sufficient diversity

of interest to produce mental friction, there is more danger from

decomposition than from revolution.

"Yes, I incline to think had I stood on the corner and listened I would

have met some well-to-do gentlemen who disliked the land tax; some

business men who disliked the labor laws; some farmers, who wanted a

free ride and no rent; some patriotic men who failed to admire many

of 'Richard's' taking ways. I might also have found healthy gentlemen

from 'Home' who, though their conditions were bettered by coming,

have little love for 'the colonials,' and who, by virtue of their

unwillingness to grasp the true situation, regard every statement of a

fact as an extravagance, and every forward movement as a revolution.

Then, I should have felt it necessary to inquire how much of such

criticism was due to private interest, to defeated ambition, to party

or factional prejudice, or to differences in opinion as to who would

best grace the conspicuous chair.

"For this I had neither time nor inclination. Man can equivocate, can

even lie, 'tis said, but visible conditions never deceive an observing

stranger, and when I considered the brief history of that country and

compared its early social and political policy with the present free,

happy and prosperous situation, I had little care to banquet with

private grievance or public criticism.

"I was concerned, not in the salaries of the public servants, but in

the character of the public conscience; not in who, for the time being,

guided the ship of state, but how the passengers and the crew were

being brought to their destination.

"On a lonely elevation, far removed from the murmuring crowd, I

levelled my glass, and, without sampling the fluids from which the

stage actors drew their inspiration, I noted my 'impressions.' They

were favorable, and if I'm guilty of nothing worse than failing to

note the faults of those chosen by themselves as ringmasters of the

performance, I feel that the Zelanians will not regret my having

'discovered them.'

"As the beauties of Zelania so far transcend the powers of the

painter's brush and the poet's metaphor, I pay her homage of my

admiration, in modest speech."

IN SILENT WONDER.

"In scenic wonders, these playful Isles present a peculiar series of

thrilling charms, which seem to satisfy best the yearnings of those who

have visited other lands.

"In geography, Zelania is beautifully isolated, as every beach is

washed by more than a thousand miles of sea. Its borders are so

erratic, so indented by bays, harbors, and inlets, that its shore-lines

are over 4,000 miles in extent, and, in altitude, it reaches from the

sea-shore to the clouds.

"Configuratively, it is milder than a dream, and topographically, it

presents a most romantic and pleasing aspect. In scenic beauty, the

Isles of Greece, the Lakes of Ireland, or the 'Vales of Cashmere' do

not surpass it, and in the awe-inspiring wildness of its mountain

grandeur, it rivals the noblest of Norway or Alaskan scenes.

"In bold magnificence, the glacial glories of the Swiss Alps are tame

comparisons, and its geysers, its boiling lakes, its roaring vents from

subterranean fires, its hundreds of spouting caldrons, its grottos and

waterfalls, could not be surpassed, if all the rest of Oliffa's wonders

were brought together and placed on exhibition--such a congerie of

curiosities has Nature thrown in young Zelania's lap.

"When Nature made Oliffa, my children, she nourished a sly intent to

show her skill when in the flower of training. With this in view, as

she deftly moulded other lands and tempered them from her laboratory,

she tossed aside the choice bits of material, and took notes on

'effect.' Then, after finishing the rest, and 'behold it was very

good,' with a glance to the gallery gods, she said, 'Now look at me!'

[Illustration: _Waimangu Geyser.--Semiquiescent._]

"Then, like the sculptor who has many models for one figure--one from

which to copy the most perfect arm, one the hand, another the

knee, and still another for the foot--so, she, selecting from the most

perfect of all her former works, improved on each, and in her happiest

mood she fashioned Zelania, and anchored it in these southern seas.

Then she smiled, and--took a _siesta_."

[Illustration: _Waimangu Geyser playing to a height of 1500ft. The

second wonder of the world._]

"Geologically," said Oseba, "Zelania is an ancient pile of dirt, but

here all the games that frisky Nature played in her boisterous youth,

before 'Atlantus' sank from the Ocean bosom, before the Mediterranean

burst through the Pillars of Hercules, before the sun and winds drank

the waters from the Sahara, and possibly before great Chimborazo was,

she still keeps on the stage for the edification or the terror of gods

and men."

"At Rotorua, that trysting place of fairies and fiends, man may play

with Nature as did the deities of old with the daughters of men; while

at Waimangu, the mightiest geyser on the globe, one may safely stand

within a few yards' distance and behold a scene of thrilling awe that

banishes all consciousness--save that of dread and power.

"To stand near the verge and behold this acre of dark world as it is

hurled a thousand feet into the air, is worth a trip round this little

globe. Language gives but a faint gleam of human passion, and every

effort to describe this scene brings but a pathetic consciousness of

human frailty. Beholding this mighty convulsion, even the thoughtless

stand motionless and mute, and as Milton is dead, Waimangu will never

be described in words.

"The countless mountain lakes, the wild fiords--from whose deep

recesses one but rarely sees the sun--the shady solitudes, so painfully

still that one shudders with a chilling sense of loneliness, and the

easily-approached glaciers and waterfalls--many with a plunge of over

a thousand feet, that amaze the Alpine traveller--thrill and fill the

beholder with astonishment.

"But for one who enjoys the gun and the rod, there are such tempting

opportunities for the diversion of the attention, that the imagination

finds ready relaxation, and thus the body and mind gain vigor as the

scenes and the days pass by.

"Then, Zelania's wonders may be visited with ease, comfort, and perfect

safety. Her furies are on their good behaviour, and save on the borders

of her terrors, her aspects are as serene as heaven's azure sky. Her

mountains are rarely disturbed by the ravings of Pluto, her great

geysers are forcible, but not dangerously erratic, and her boiling

springs are so amiable that they may be studied and safely observed at

short range.

"Zelania, thou art by far the most beauteous land,

E'er dreamed of fate, or reared by Nature's cunning hand.

You've heaven-piercing peaks, crowned with eternal snow,

A thousand boiling caldrons--heated from below.

You've glaciers dwarfing Alpine scenes, and fiords more wild

Than Norway boasts. When fashioned, God beheld and smiled.

"That Nature rather recklessly managed this country in early geological

times is abundantly evident, but save the activity of the geysers

and boiling lakes--which play for the amusement of visitors--and the

occasional listing when some great personage steps too close to the

edge, _terra_ has been satisfactorily _firma_ ever since the present

managers were commissioned in the early '90's.

"In every natural feature, this is a country of boundless variety.

In climate, it varies from Finland to Italy; and in production, by

intelligent transplanting, most of the necessities of civilised life

are here."

Here the notes say the poetess Vauline inquired whether Mr. Oseba had

not minutely described some of these marvellous scenes in his report.

With reverential mien, the sage replied:--

"No, my children, to attempt this, were to profane the gift and the

giver of speech. Only one who beholds these wonders can appreciate

them. When confronted, the grandeur of the infinite may be felt by a

sensitive soul, but through an interpreter all attempts fail. Beholding

one scene, I uncovered and bowed my head in silence.[A] Words! they

were meaningless."

Yes, and I will help Mr. Oseba out, for I have observed these things,

and I have read somewhere how some sort "rush in" where even the angels

incline to hesitate.

_The Painter came!_

Folding his arms, he raised his drooping head, and gazed in awful

thought.

He stood in rapturous dream; "Oh God, if I could grasp that scene,

the noblest fame e'er bought

By toil were mine!" With eager hand he clutched the brush. With

anxious eye

He gazed. Lo! the eye dimmed, the brain reeled, the hand fell, and

with a sigh

He dropped the brush. In deep despair he turned and said, "Alas,

good-bye!

'Tis an unpainted picture. Ye gods of solitude, good-bye!"

_The Poet came!_

With streaming hair, pale brow, and nervous tread he hither came

to brood

O'er Nature's vastest works, to wrench the beauties from this

solitude,

And weave in mystic rhyme these wond'rous scenes for common

mortals' gaze.

Entranced, he seized his pen. Anon he wrote--methinks he wrote

in praise.

Then pensively he stood, and mutt'ring said: "Words suit well the

minstrel's lays,

But, 'tis an unwritten poem, to tempt the soul through endless

days."

_The Fool came!_

He smiled. On good terms with himself he seemed, as one who owned

the world.

In jocund speech he cried, "'Tis ours!" and in mock haste his flag

unfurled.

On ancient log he rests. He laughs, he jokes, and chats. Behold

him look!

'Tis for a match; he faggots brings, he lights a fire--a meal to

cook.

Says he: "Extr'ordinary! Ar'nt this grand? By gol! old fel, I'll

write a book."

Then words like snow-flakes fall--like snow-flakes in a brook.

A DIGRESSION.

"Now, my children," said Oseba, "permit me to make a few observations

based upon my study among the Outeroos, which will apply to the country

under review.

"Remember, all terms expressing quality--such as good and evil, right

and wrong, truth and error--are relative, and, as affecting men, the

definition to each individual depends upon his environment. As a fact,

the rules expressing these ideas are largely fictions established by

society for its own purpose, but, in their general application, they

must be allowed considerable latitude.

"A country is good or bad, as it offers or withholds opportunity for

earning a livelihood, and for the development of the mental faculties

by the application of reasonable efforts; and a government is good or

bad, as it withholds or encourages such opportunities and aspirations.

'When the wise rule, the people rejoice'--even in the barren districts.

It is a matter--well, it is a matter--largely of 'grey matter.' As a

rule, Nature has not been niggard in the distribution of her blessings.

And, as a rule, the term good or bad, when applied to a country,

applies less to the soil than to the society. It is college _versus_

cannon, or inquiry _versus_ credulity. Under a reign of benign justice,

from a barren soil may arise an earthly paradise, while bigotry, war,

and oppression will make a hell of the fairest valley.

'The gods wondered, and Viehnu said to Bel,

"With seven wise men shalt thou enter hell,

Or with five fools, pass into paradise."

"Give me," said Bel, "hell with the wise,

For that is heaven, where they do dwell,

While fools would make of Heaven itself a hell."'

"The subject, my children, always bears the image of the law, the

expression of custom, and customs are established by cunning for the

rule of credulity. By custom, one is born the owner of many broad

acres; and by custom, ten thousand toil without enjoying, that one may

enjoy without toil. But Nature usually lends herself freely to man's

designs. In a vast monotonous country, despotism is a usual system of

government, Nature suggesting no change; the leader becomes the chief,

the chief becomes the monarch, the monarch becomes a despot, and the

despot a god.

"On the contrary, in a smaller country with diversified aspects,

indented shore-lines and water-front, scaleable mountains and erratic

climate, Nature suggests--change. A holy discontent appears, the despot

becomes a constitutional monarch, a parliament serves the people, a

cabinet advises the king; and then, as mountains suggest liberty and

seas adventure, distant colonies, in which custom and precedent are

ignored, are established on lines in harmony with environing conditions.

"Human liberty, my children, rarely gains a victory in an old, wealthy,

populous and well-established country or government. Society, under

such conditions, becomes conservative; the rulers love power, the

cunning want no change, the wealthy are satisfied, and the people,

being adjusted to the changeless conditions, are 'loyal' and contented.

"Further, every defeat of despotism, every entrenchment upon the

'divine' territory, every victory of human liberty, has been due to

the restless inhabitants of the water-front; and remember, for all

the progressive movements of all the ages, and for what the centuries

call modern civilisation, the world is indebted to colonial enterprise,

conspicuously led by Phoenicia, Greece, and modern Britain."

BACK TO ZELANIA.

"But let us, my children," Oseba continued, "return to Zelania,

Nature's choicest, last, and most successful effort, and to where these

principles apply. In her geographical situation, her configuration, her

soil and climate, she offers man everything to toughen the fibre, to

quicken the perception, and to strengthen the imagination.

"She has the climate, the fertility, the production, the

picturesqueness of Greece, and all in greater variety."

Oseba here led his audience into a most interesting inquiry regarding

climatic influence in the development of a people. He said man was a

part of, and strongly allied to, Nature, and that he could not escape

the influence of his environment.

In interior tropical regions Nature puts a black skin and black hair

on her people, and, as a joke, she usually flattens the nose. In vast

interior and warm regions, the complexion are tawny, with black or

tawny hair and oblique eyes, that shunt the direct rays of light.

"Then, too," he says, "island or sea-shore people are lighter in

color than those of the interior, and not only is the complexion of

man, but his physical proportions, stature and temperament, modified

by climatic conditions. In interior countries men gradually assume

a type--they are lithe, and rather small of stature, and so alike

that they seem cast in the same mould; while those living on islands

along the water-front, or among the mountains, are more sturdy, they

vary more in build, size and deftness, and they are mentally more

inquisitive, venturesome, impetuous and brave."

He said that by far the most sturdy, virile, impulsive and enterprising

people on Oliffa inhabited the British Isles. Of course, the race had

much to do with modern movements, but the earlier climatic conditions

of the country produced the racial distinctions.

"By the rule of Nature, then," he continued, "Zelania, with the proper

stock to begin with, in complexion, form, feature, temperament, and

mental endowments, should produce the finest type of man and womanhood

on the planet."

He compared the Maoris with the aboriginals of interior Australia, and

said both were modified by their environment.

Here Leo Bergin remarked that Mr. Oseba was certainly greatly taken and

impressed by his "colonial" experience. However, it is not improbable

that while travelling in New Zealand Mr. Oseba received sufficient

courtesies to impress him deeply with the matchless hospitality of the

people.

[Illustration: _The Moa of Maoriland. The skeleton of this particular

Moa stands about 12ft. high, and is a curious but substantial fact, but

as the Moa, the dinornis--as the learned folks call it--permanently

retired from New Zealand, possibly before the Maoris came, the plumage

and plumpness are the works of the artistic naturalist._]

"But, enough," says Leo Bergin, "my master is worthy of my whole

attention," and the notes run:--

"But let me return, my children, and pick up the theme of Zelania, for

in her--with my tours over her romantic islands--I found balm for all

my earlier disappointments.

"Zelania has certainly not worried her soul in life-producing efforts.

In botany, she is not rich in species; in mammals she is more allied

to South America, over six thousand miles distant, than to Australia,

but twelve hundred miles, justifying my conviction that this paragon of

beauty was an after-thought of the creative power.

"In mammals she has but a little rat--a poor little weakling that has

not yet been tamed or learned to board with the people--and two little

half-developed bats. Of reptiles, there are a few lazy lizards, but

whether some 'Patrick' or 'Denis' had banished them, I could not say;

but snakes, there are none."

He said there were some land birds, but as there were no animals to

"make them afraid," the more indolent of them had lost their wings and

their natural characteristics had changed.

The moa was probably--some time ago--a pretty respectable bird, but

there being no danger from which to "flee" and no long flights to

procure food, it cast off its wings and strutted about until its bones

became as heavy as those of a reindeer, and it stretched up its head

until it stood twelve feet high. But having no cares nor anxieties, no

fears nor ambition, it failed to develop "grey matter," so when the

Maori came it "surrendered," and, having taken off its flesh as well

as its wings, it is now resting in the museums. Without the rod or the

bun, there seems to be no effort, and without effort there seems to be

little progress with any created thing.

THE MAORIS "DISCOVERED."

"And the great god Morduch heaved the earth from its watery bed,

and peopled its shores according to his will."

As Oseba evidently meant to proceed upon his discourse in some

predesigned order, he here gave some interesting attention to the

Maoris, the natives--or, so-called, aboriginals--of New Zealand.

The orator, in his inimitable manner, described the Maoris with

amusing detail. He calls them a fine race of romantic savages, whose

physique had undoubtedly been greatly improved by the winning smiles

of Zelania's climate and general aspects; for 'tis said they have been

loafing around there for 500 years. "A large, heavy, dark brown people

are these Maoris, who, in their own picturesque costume, often looked

gracefully noble. Brave and ferocious while untamed, they are usually

amiable and indolent when subjected to civilising influences."

Many of the young women were very pretty, and the children were quick

in wit and movement. He did not think that tattooing the under lips of

the women had really improved their beauty. Many of the half-castes

were very intelligent, and not a few had made excellent reputations,

in politics and other "professions." Many of them, too, had a sublime

gift of "gab," and this trait is shared--even by the men.

Intellectually the Maoris were, Oseba thought, superior to any other

tamed savage; but, like other barbarians, when touched by civilisation,

they learned and accepted the vices more readily than the virtues. This

was noticeable in all civilising movements. Oseba remarked that it was

often observed among the Outeroos when speaking of such people, that

the "Christian vices" killed them.

"This," he says, "was natural, for while it takes time to teach the

'brethren' the real advantages to be derived from the practices of

Christian virtue, the 'Christian vices' yield 'immediate returns.'

'Thou shalt not steal' to a savage produces a peculiarly disagreeable

confusion of ideas, and the advantages are not readily apparent,

but two drinks of whisky rarely failed to impress. This is a custom

peculiar to 'Christian culture' that is 'taking.'

"To judge by the conspicuous exhibitions of artistic effort and the

countless displays by the photo fiend in many of Zelania's towns,

a stranger would conclude that the Maoris were the 'superior' and

dominant race, though there are but a little over 43,000 in the whole

country, mostly on the north or warmer island, and it is said they are

about stationary in numbers and in morals."

He told his audience that these Maoris, when originally discovered,

were a stalwart, brave and rather superior race of savages; that war

was the only argument that appealed to their perverted consciences, and

he quoted an admiring New Zealand poet to prove the "amiable" heroism

of the Maori "ladies."

"E'en woman, formed for sweetness, for love, and tender art

Here showed the tiger instinct, the hard and ruthless heart;

Her's was the task in battle, the wounded braves to slay,

And cook the reeking corpses for the feast that closed the fray."

"Yes, the Maori women were brave, very brave, but, my children, in all

Zelania there was not a mouse.

"Of these Maoris, there are several tribes," he says, "who, when free

from the meddlesome 'white man's yoke,' are usually engaged in slaying

and stewing each other, and, besides carving with their greenstone

cleavers their cooked brethren and their own faces, they practised much

in wood-carving. In this, while the workmanship is fair, there is a

manifest lack of a sense of proportion, that amuses the connoisseur as

it delighted the amateur in art.

"Like the more common, or at least more numerous and more pretentious

white fellow-citizen, these Maoris go to church some, and to school,

and to the drink-shop and to jail, but as the Maoris have a little

creed of their own, they don't go to church very much. But if the

Maori goes less to church, to school, and to Parliament, he also goes

less to jail and to the hotel than his more pretentious white British

fellow-citizen.

"The Maoris are picturesque, especially at the more popular tourist

resorts, where their presence lends a particularly charming romance to

the occasion. The emotional tourist--especially if a young gentleman

from 'Home'--who is safely piloted by the alert, polite, and loquacious

'Maggie' among the roaring and exploding geysers of that charming

compromise between awe-inspiring beauty and terror, that unpreached

sermon, that unsung song, that unwritten poem, that section of hell

in an earthly paradise, Rotorua, in whose weird precincts are seen

and heard and smelled, at close range, the seething fires of 'Pluto's

dread abode,' he will cherish a generous respect for Maori hospitality

forever. Under Maggie's watchful guidance, the most unsophisticated

tourist could safely approach the yawning mouth of these boiling

caldrons without endangering life or health or appetite; though,

unless one heeds the cautious guide, the boot soles are in danger of

shrinking, and in these sulphurous regions 'kuss words' flow from pious

lips.

"Nature," Oseba argued, "was a unity and is consistent. She ignores

individuals, and strives, oblivious to time, for universals. No created

thing ever escapes the influence of environment. But Nature carries out

her works with the instruments at hand. Whence came these Maoris is

a guess, but as in character, stature, proportion, personal bearing,

and mental possibilities, no other savage on the globe compares with

them, they must have been sufficiently long in Zelania to have become

modified by, and made to conform to, the luring conditions of that

wonderful country."

But I must continue:--

As there were no indigenous grains or tameable animals, and as no

people ever worked out a civilisation without the assistance of

tameable animals, the Maori could only remain a savage, but the climate

and general aspect of Nature, the peculiar environing conditions, gave

him the noblest soul and most fertile intellect ever housed in the

brain of a barbarian. The conduct of the Maoris in defence of their

country, considering the relative conditions of the contending forces,

found no parallel in history or romance.

They had all the cunning and duplicity of the Greek, the stubborn

courage of the ancient Briton, and the stoical disdain for death of

the North American Indian. While in the whirligig of the great world's

doings a contest between the most skilful of all warriors and a few

small tribes of savages, in so remote a country, could excite no very

great interest among the far-away nations, to the watchful student of

events there were few pages of history more interesting than the Maori

wars in Zelania.

Socially, the Maori was of a peculiar mould. A communist in property,

he was an aristocrat by nature, and in his soul there was a haughty

exuberance of spirit that rendered tribal discipline difficult, and

domestic peace precarious. In war, the Maori was brave; in diplomacy,

shrewd; in council, a born orator.

The Maori remained a savage in Zelania because there was nothing to

tame him, but in his nature there was the diamond, and, by a little

grinding, its brilliancy always burst forth. His native environment had

given him everything of a superior mould but the final touch. I quote:--

"Already from the grim huts of these late savages have come forth the

orator, the lawyer, the statesman, and the successful business man.

'From the cannibal feast to the Cabinet,' is almost true of the Maori.

"The fate of the Maoris?

"Well, my children, I don't know, but the grafting of civilisation on

such a stock may work wonders, and to study these most picturesque of

all the sons of Nature, is worth a journey around this little world.

"It is most interesting," continued Oseba, "to study the aboriginals

of any country, and it is pathetic to observe their gradual retirement

from the earth's fair face; but the Maori--the handsome, haughty,

aristocratic and eloquent Maori--is as different from all other

uncivilised races as his enchanting island home is different from all

other countries on the surface of Oliffa.

"If bare-handed Nature in Zelania, with no animals for the chase, none

for herds or for servants of industry, and practically no grain or

fruit, could spank the savage, common to other lands into this shape,

what may it not do for civilised man, who brings with him all the aids

of all the ages?"

Oseba explained that before he called on Zelania he had visited

every other country on Oliffa, and had studied the "inferior" races

carefully, but the Maoris stood solitary and alone. All others lacked

physical fibre and mental stamina, and for them to remain in contact

with the superior races meant many generations for doubtful growth, or

a few generations for extinction.

But the Maoris had now attained full manhood. They were "different"

from the whites, and this was more proper than to say they were very

much "inferior." They had enjoyed none of the advantages of outside

communication, no aid from tameable animals, no experiences by the

chase, no traditions of industrial art, during probably more than five

hundred years. Yet the Maori seems to have attained to a surprising

degree a fairly full mental and physical stature. He has eloquence,

perception, inquisitiveness and acquisitiveness. He has everything

but--civilisation. He has the soul, but it needs tuning; the material,

but it needs shaking-up and seasoning. The magic touch of a newer,

a higher inspiration is needed, and that is being injected into his

awakening consciousness by a benign social sentiment.

"To-day," said Oseba, "the Zelania Maori, as seen in his grotesque

works of art, in his struggle for wild independence, in his weird

religious ceremony, in his common avocations as toiler, professional

man or politician, is the most picturesque human being on the planet,

and his presence in Zelania gives a seasoning of romance to be studied

and enjoyed in no other land."

[Illustration: _Tattooed Maori Chief.--"Maori Carving."_]

_SCENE VIII.--Act II._

APPROPRIATING A WORLD.

All being in readiness, a number of very perfect maps were thrown on

the canvas, showing the plains, valleys, mountains, lakes, and rivers

of Zelania, with the nature of the production of each island; and a

careful and detailed description as to location and resources was given

by the orator.

Then, calling the attention of his audience, Oseba notified the people

that he was now reaching the closing chapter of his report, or in our

refined phrase he was on "the home stretch." He said:--

"Now, my children, at this stage of our inquiry, I desire to remind

you again how closely man is allied to Nature; how he is adjusted to

all the environing conditions; how the fresh breezes of a temperate

zone give him a fair skin; how a varied and pleasing aspect gives him

a cheerful temperament; how the mountains suggest to him freedom, and

the seas adventure; how climate depresses or exhilarates; how pastoral

pursuits awaken the romantic in his nature; agriculture, patience

and sturdy industry; and the search for precious metals, a careless

independence and intelligence.

"Then, for this last, let the Titans wrest from Nature all that

conspired to make the Phoenician, the Greek, the Norse, and the

Briton, and mould them artistically into the most pleasing form, and

lo! Zelania would appear in her pristine glory to--fashion a man."

Here he briefly described the workings of the government of Zelania,

how it had adopted the parliamentary system of Britain, and that,

while it acknowledged a proud allegiance to the British crown, it was

probably the most unmitigated democracy the world had ever beheld.

"As a member of a compact," Oseba said, "Zelania owes but a loose

allegiance to the Motherland, for she is at liberty to part the cable

at any time and float away with the parental blessings. But, as a fact,

she is held by a sentiment stronger than bands of steel; and by the

voluntary sacrifice of many of her noblest sons on distant fields, she

has proven, not only her loyalty to the Crown, but her love for the

Empire and her devotion to British aspiration. Theirs is not merely

the loyalty of the subject--'tis the tender regard of children for the

generous kindred of homeland.

"Now, my children," continued the orator, "I am going to show you

another series of views, some the works of man, and some the works of

Nature, that have influenced my actions. Glance through the album I

have given you, and you will see the style of men, who, on the lines

so strongly suggested by the inviting environment, have fashioned the

social creeds of the country.

"It is a grand thing to behold men strong enough and brave enough to

lead the people up, not to where they may 'see the promised land,' but

to secure for them and their children a nobler heritage than Joshua

ever saw or Moses ever dreamed of."

The orator claimed that though the mightiest imagination could not

reach a comprehension of these enchanting scenes, he felt that the

views presented would justify his claim that of all lands Zelania was

the most wonderful on the globe.

And now he proceeded to call attention to the human side--how the

denizens of this most favored country were using their peerless

opportunities, and this was even more wonderful, for Nature followed

rules and precedents, while these people broke them.

"A man may famish," said Oseba, "surrounded by the most dazzling

splendor; he may starve, amid the most wild, weird and stupendous

beauty; but when erratic Nature has strewn in the same garden that

which most elevates the soul and administers most to the nourishment

of the body, man should tender the tribute of his admiration and

gratitude, and--'go to work.'"

In Zelania, as I interpret the orator's meaning, the gods have

conspired to do all this, and to make the lot of man a happy one. But

in a life so frail and so full of wants, the practical side deserves

consideration, for while the Deity may furnish the paddock, he will not

throw blood oranges on fern trees, or grow "A No. 1" cauliflower on

ground not subdued by the spade or the plough.

After having made so fine an exhibition of the choice spots of Zelania,

Oseba commented upon the peculiar notions of the Outeroos regarding

their visits to other lands. He said by the Outeroos' measure, he

himself had been the world's greatest "discoverer," for he had found

and charted the whole outer surface. He had "discovered" China, Japan,

Russia, and other countries; he had discovered Africa, America,

Australia, and finally the "Paradise of Oliffa"--Zelania.

Many people on Oliffa did not care to be "discovered"--in fact, would

rather not have been, and, among these, were not improbably, those

fading Maoris of Zelania. The "discoverer" had been the bane of many a

people--remember the color-line!

Oseba told his people that "Zelania was once discovered by Tasman in

1642, and that it was not discovered again for more than a hundred

years, when Cook found it in 1769. Later, to the temporary joy and

final regret of the Maoris, the French also 'discovered' the country,

and soon some gentlemen from Sydney called, and in 1814 the 'parsons'

found it, since which time the collections have been regular. I," said

he, "am Zelania's last 'discoverer,' and my report shall be a modest

one.

"In 1840 the Union Jack was permanently nailed up in queenly Auckland,

Zelania being made a province of New South Wales, and the next year the

country was erected into a colony, with a good billet for the favorite

of a British Premier.

"In 1865 the capital was removed to Wellington, a very breezy city,

with fine 'sloping' hills at no great distance from the water-front.

"As in other British colonies, government here meant liberty, and, as

in all habitable countries liberty means progress, Zelania has had a

full measure of prosperity, practically from the beginning.

"If," proceeded Oseba, "the Outeroos ever evolve a generation of

thinking men, the mystery of mysteries to them will be how a people

as educated and business-like as the generation, who discovered and

developed steam and electricity, and the modern commercial systems

could be stupid enough to give away or sell to a few of the people

the land upon--and from--which all the people must necessarily live.

Further, it will be interesting to inquire by what course of reasoning

the temporary custodians of the public domain arrived at a conclusion

that they could rightfully alienate it, ignoring the will and the right

of all who might come by the next train.

"As broad, as almost limitless, as is the meaning of supreme authority

among the Outeroos, by no compromise with expediency, by no stretch

of the imagination, can any human power consign the future generation

to a madhouse, or to homelessness, or to a condition of serfdom under

the heirs of the more fortunate few; but to grant the lands to a

small number of persons is to pawn the cage in which the animals are

eternally locked.

"Unfortunately, before the 'rulers' of Zelania had been broadened by

the pure air of this wonderland, they had parcelled out much of the

better lands to a comparatively few persons. But the grapes fed by the

early rulers to the parents of the colonials, set the teeth of the

children on edge.

"The area of Zelania is 104,000 square miles, as against 124,000

for the United Kingdom; and the population is 800,000, as against

40,000,000 for the United Kingdom.

"But, behold the growing wisdom of the generations! In the United

Kingdom, by inheritance, by the crimes of authority, a few hundred

families, or less than one out of every 2,000 of the population, 'own'

nearly one-half of the whole country; while in this new world, the

smaller follies of earlier rulers are already being corrected, and

the lands are being rescued from baronial control and held for 'the

people,' regardless of the time of the arrival of their train.

"As the Outeroos are mostly land animals, my children, and as we have

learned how important the land is to human happiness, I will give

you briefly this phase of the social situation of Zelania as being

developed by its present leaders."

Then he reminded his audience that Zelania embraced 104,000 square

miles or about 66,000,000 acres of land.

Mr. Oseba claimed that the British Isles, with 79,000,000 acres, with

a considerable area of waste, support nearly 40,000,000 people; Italy

with about 70,000,000 acres, with much waste, supports 30,000,000

people; Prussia, with about 90,000,000 acres, large areas of waste,

supports 31,000,000 people; France, with about 125,000,000 acres, with

extensive mountain regions, supports nearly 40,000,000 people; and

that Belgium and Holland, with about 18,000,000 acres, and much waste,

support over 10,000,000 people.

He argued that if the estimates were approximately correct, this most

favored of all lands on the surface of Oliffa would support, on a like

plane of living of the Italians, 22,000,000 of people; on a like plane

of the French, 12,000,000 people; and on a like plane of the British

Isles, at least 10,000,000 of people.

But he explained that with a like population of these countries a like

plane of living would be inevitable; so, for the happiness of Zelania,

he thought, it was fortunate that many splendid obstacles stood in the

way of a rapid increase in population. The cry for population was the

most delusive mockery that ever lured a people to the verge of misery.

Here I quote the intrepid discoverer:--

"B-i-g does not spell 'great.' China has what most of the new countries

of Oliffa are screaming for--'population.' Yet China is not considered

'great.' India, even with British rule, as a people or a race is not

'great.' The true greatness of a nation consists in the greatness of

the individual units composing the nation, and not in their numbers.

America is great as a nation, but the real average 'greatness' of the

individual American has been declining for many years. Better travel

comfortably with a select party than rush to ruin in a crowded train.

"There is no relation between size and value. Even the most ambitious

Outeroo would hardly claim Lambert, who weighed forty stone, to have

been 'greater' than little Pope, who looked like an interrogation point

and weighed but eight. So, as there is no virtue in avoirdupois, there

is no 'greatness' in mere numbers. Better flirt with one healthy girl,

than take a dozen sour old maids to the pantomime."

Mr. Oseba might have mentioned, had he known the facts, that

Phoenicia, that gave to the world the ship and the alphabet, and

anticipated modern commercial methods, occupied but a small strip of

country--mostly sterile--from eight to twenty-five miles wide, and less

than a hundred and eighty miles long; that Attica, at the feet of whose

philosophers we still sit, from whose artists we still copy, and to

whose orators we still listen, embraced but seven hundred square miles;

and that the population of Sparta, while in her glory, probably never

exceeded ten thousand souls.

"No, my children," said Oseba, "b-i-g, does not spell 'great,' and any

Zelanian who is caught howling for 'population' should be compelled to

'shout' for the whole crowd until he goes 'broke,' and has to hunt a

billet to enable him to buy a beer and a bun. The desirable cannot be

bribed--others should not be wanted."

[Illustration: THE MAORI MAID OF ROTORUA.

Did you ever see Maggie of Rotoru'?

You would never imagine what she can do

For the mouths of hell,

With a magic spell,

This little brown maid--

As I have said--

Will lead you over, and under and through.

This little brown damsel of Rotoru'

Will laugh at the fates, and smile at you.

Like a fairy dream,

Through the caldron's steam,

In gleeful wit.

She'll gaily flit--

Yet careful, stranger, how you pursue.

With this little brown maid of Rotoru'

You scramble and gaze and wonder, too.

You stand appalled,

Your soul's enthralled,

For scenes so weird,

Have here appeared--

You wonder if h---- isn't bursting through.

* * * * *

While much of this danger, my friends, is sham

God tempers the winds to the little shorn lamb.

But wild Nature raves

In dark hidden caves,

And 'tis romance, you know,

To Roto' you go,

So leave some "memory" in Maggie's palm.]

Here, Leo Bergin, with a deep love for Zelania, "pimples out into

poetry"--"on his own," as follows:--

ZELANIA'S GREETING.

Zelania's stores are rich in wine,

Zelania's air is sweet with flowers,

Zelania's sons are rich in kine,

Zelania's maidens wile the hours,

'Mid scenes of matchless beauty.

Zelania's valleys waive with grain,

Zelania's hills are white with sheep,

Zelania's sons are skilled in gain,

Zelania's maidens ever keep

The path that leads to duty.

Zelania's crown is rich and rare,

Zelania's laws are wise and free,

Zelania's sons and daughters care,

Zelania's door to ever see

Swung open wide, and then--

Zelania speaks across the seas,

Zelania calls in welcome voice,

Zelania sends by every breeze

Zelania's greeting to the choice--

Of earth's deserving men.

Well, that is as refreshing as it is novel. Mr. Oseba and Leo are both

right, and I say, "Well done!" for a popular gentleman of old said: "He

that provideth not for his own household has denied the faith, and is

worse than an infidel," and if this was Paul, he was not far "beside"

himself on this occasion.

It is very pleasing mental recreation to talk about the "brotherhood of

man" and the equal rights of "all the children of God" to play anywhere

on the surface of His "footstool," but Nature suggests that "every

living creature" shall hold down its claim or it will be crowded out,

and this same cruel, relentless, unsympathising "Nature"--that always

"barracks" for her longest-clawed children--helps to shovel the weak

into the compost heap.

With the achievements of modern times, with industrial progress,

specialised effort and rapid transit, the many-hued people of the earth

may enjoy the fruits of all lands without practising at the same bar or

sitting at the same table.

That "God made all men equal" is pretty--it is very pretty; but

it lacks the merit of scientific truth, and while it may be

desirable--profitable--to deal with the outside "barbarian," and to

aid, educate, and elevate him, none but a fool or a fanatic would bring

a hoard of park loafers into his dining-room and seat them at his

table, to the exclusion of his own children--or his wife's relations.

We may do justice by a "brother" man without boarding him or converting

him into a brother-in-law.

Mr. Oseba said:--

"Zelania's needed population will arrive in due season, for, besides

her own resistless attractions, Oliffa must be more densely covered;

but in 'filling up the country' from abroad, the heads should be

weighed and not counted. Zelania may select her own coming population,

for whether for health, for profit, for pleasure, for curiosity, or

to study lessons of the highest social and political wisdom, she is

curiosity's magnetic pole, and with prudent management on the part of

her 'rulers' she will soon become the happy loitering place for the

leisure-loving, wealthy, and well-to-do of all lands. Then, thousands

of those who 'call' will be so charmed with her faultless climate, her

romantic scenery, her hospitable people, and her splendid opportunities

for domestic happiness and private gain, that they will cast their lots

in this ever-enchanting land.

"Nature points to Zelania and says to all her children:--

"'Come and see what I did when I had my hand in.' Then, my children,

let me anticipate, for I desire that you may now have a glimpse of the

goal to which I am leading you.

"Well, I may tell you these British people to whom I have briefly

referred, composed almost exclusively in this case of English, Irish

and Scotch, being far removed from central authority, so strongly

tempted by new opportunities, and so resistlessly influenced by new

and pressing demands, have amazed the world by the boldness of their

political conceptions and by their marvellous achievements in social

experiments."

From Mr. Oseba's oration one would conclude that never did a colony of

loyal people more readily depart from traditional usages, never did a

community enter into the possession of a new country who so readily

adjusted themselves by their customs, their laws, and their rules of

action to the requirements of a novel environment as did the settlers

of this peerless land.

He claimed that, in little more than half a century, before they were

three-quarters of a million souls, by their achievements in social

evolution the Zelanians had excited the interest and won the admiration

of the civilised world.

"Selfishness," he argued, "is the mainspring of human action, and

the actuating motive of every human being is to secure the greatest

possible happiness with the least possible expenditure of physical toil.

"Though the social instincts of man help to tame him, all social and

political systems in the world are based upon very human traits. The

savage, for his own happiness, by force appropriates whatever he wants

or can get. The half-civilised man cunningly appropriates the land,

that its fruit may ripen in his granary, that himself and family may be

happy, while the really civilised man would divide the opportunities

among all, and his happiness is found in the general joy. The Zelanians

are being civilised by evolution and parliamentary enactments.

"And they allotted the land as each had need."

Oseba reaffirmed his conclusions that no people ever took possession of

a new country who shaped the land laws with a due regard to those who

came later--with rights just as holy--save the Zelanians. In this they

were more nearly complying with the rational demands of justice than

any other people.