A South-Sea Siren. A novel descriptive of New Zealand life in the early days

Front matter

BY THE SAME AUTHOR. PHILOSOPHER DICK. EXTRACTS FROM SOME OF THE REVIEWS AND PRESS NOTICES. "'Philosopher Dick' deals with two distinct subjects. It presents a most vivid and life-like picture of some of the phases of New Zealand life, as it was some thirty years ago, and it gives a detailed analysis of the evil effects of prolonged solitude on a mind which, though of more than average ability, is well stored with required knowledge, and never, at the worst of times, deprived of the companionship of books, yet had an inward tendency to dreaminess and melancholy. Both subjects are treated in a masterly way. No man who was not at once a scholar and a thinker could create the character of ' Philosopher Dick ' ; and although in quite a different vein, the descriptions of life on a sheep station are no less admirable.

The extremely diverse types of men to be met among ' the hands ' in these days are sketched yvith great verve, and traits both humorous and pathetic are seized and reproduced unerringly." — Westminster Review. " There is an air of simplicity and verisimilitude about the whole story which stamps it as being a faithful record, from one point of view, of the more prominent features of a settler's hfe in Neyv Zealand, when that Use was a good deal more primitive and richer in the incidents of exciting adventure than it is to-day. . . . The ' contemplations ' of the philosopher are decidedly unequal in value, but his ' adventures ' are ahvays entertaining." — Spectator. " ' Philosopher Dick' has perhaps made something of an effort to present himself to us in the guise of a modern ' Melancholy Jaques. ' His occupation, the tendency of his reflections on life, his affected indifference to the claims of the fair, his kindliness and humour, all savour of such an effort.

But he conveys no sense of straining after effect in that or any direction, and one of the principal attractions of the book is the impression of sincerity it leaves. His style is easy and flowing, perfectly expressive of the genial quietism of the writer. His descriptions of Nature in her severer aspects — for this is the only aspect in which she is presented to us — are truthful, graphic, and vigorous to an unusual degree. His humour is quiet and unobtrusive, but none the less mordant, and his thumb-nail pictures of the station ' hands ' and of the social amenities of station Use are drawn with remarkable skill and clearness. . . ." — Tlie Home News. " The moral is sound enough, and the book contains some extremely clever and lively pictures of New Zealand up-country life and a good deal of sensible sarcasm on colonial ideals." — Glasgow Herald. ' ' A very pleasing story, the scenes of which are laid in a country and amongst a people not often put under contribution hitherto for literary purposes." — Belfast Northern Whig.

Chapter I

" So we are not to be damned, after all ! " exclaimed Major Dearie, as he entered the room and looked about for a peg to hang his hat on. " You allude, I suppose, to the decision of the Privy Council on the doctrine of eternal punishment," observed Mr. Beaumont, from behind a cloud of smoke. " I am glad of it for your sake, major," remarked Mr. Richard Raleigh, who presided at the head of the table, as he saluted the newcomer with a graceful flourish of his pipe. " There's nothing in it," ejaculated Arthur Irving. " Nothing in it ! " retorted the major, with assumed amazement, while seating his ponderous person at the table, and exchanging a round of friendly nods and winks with the assembled guests. " Nothing in it ! Do you mean nothing in damnation ? " " No, I believe in hell ; I was brought up that way."

" And I," continued the major, " have brought myself up to be guided by reason in all things. But this is not my humble opinion only, it emanates from the highest tribunal of the realm. What says our reverend friend here? " "I will tell you next Sunday," meekly replied Parson Tupper, as he poured himself out an ample dose of dark 2 * brandy from a demi-john, and then passed the jar with out stretched hands to his gallant interlocutor. Now, there existed a spirit of ill-disguised but purely polemical hostility betyveen the rough and rather boisterous soldier, who posed as a free thinker of the most advanced type, and the sleek and pacific clergyman, who deprecated dis putation of any kind, but specially on theological questions. The major was aggressive, and ever eager for a friendly passage of arms, if not a challenge to single combat ; and, even yvhen most peacefully disposed, he rarely could resist the chance of having a sly dig at his unresisting antagonist.

His field of battle was a wide one, and he considered him self armed at all points ; he was prepared to start at the Mosaic account of the Creation and fight his yvay down through all history, sacred and profane, to the present day. The parson, on the other hand, although wanting in com bativeness, was well protected for passive defence ; he could retire within a shell that yvas equally proof against the thrusts of logic or the shafts of ridicule. " When you are upon that interesting topic," pursued the tormentor, after filling his glass and drawing some fierce yvhiffs from a capacious meerschaum, " I hope you will not forget to reply to a few of the most telling points brought fonvard by Bishop Colenso in his recent publication, yvhich of course you have read. They deserve your closest atten tion."

" I have an answer to all of them," replied the placid divine, without taking his pipe out of his mouth. " Indeed ? " " I have an ansyver that is complete and comprehensive, and which requires no comment. To all difficulties and apparent contradictions I reply It's a miracle." " Good again," cried the president. " That's what I call a settler ," observed Irving. "But, my dear sir," blustered the major, bristling up " even if you attempt to explain certain individual acts, such as the fall of the walls of Jericho at the sound of a trumpet, which beats dynamite holloyv, by the assumption of super natural agency, how can you get over the undeniable evi dence drawn from the geological record, or " " It's a miracle," interrupted the parson ; " that's my last word." " Well, I'm d d," gasped the major, sotto voce.

" We will hope not," muttered his mild opponent, but with such a dubious shake of the head, as set all the com pany laughing. " I'm afraid the devil is too firmly established amongst us to be got rid of, even by the verdict of our highest Court of Appeal," observed the suave Mr. Beaumont, the resident magistrate, who wished to divert the discussion from the rather personal tone it was taking. " Not that their lord ships ever contemplated the dethronement of his Satanic Majesty, by any means. Only it is no longer heretical to disbelieve in hell." '' The brimstone flames were extinguished some time ago," put in the irrepressible major. " I suppose," continued the magistrate, " that our ideas of future punishment are simply undergoing a gradual modification {development is the scientific term) to suit the more refined and humanitarian views of the present day.

Torture and mutilation have been abolished ; we no longer burn witches, or even duck them ; and the society which will hardly tolerate the flogging of a garotter cannot be expected to acquiesce in the roasting of poor sinners over a slow fire for all eternity." " Precisely," remarked the president, sententiously, "and just as we have substituted solitary confinement for the lash in our prisons, so we have invented a sort of moral hell to take the place of the old sulphurous institution. Nous avons change tout cela. Who knows ? The change may answer just as well up above as it has done here below." " But what is to become of the devil ? " inquired Tippings, the funny man. " Is he to be transmogrified, or left out in the cold ? " " There are so many sorts and conditions of devils," pursued the president, " that we have ample material to choose from to suit our altered conditions.

First, there is the grand conception of Satan, the undaunted ; the sinister but mighty hero of evil, yvho appears glorious even in his faU." " The first of rebels," said Irving. " The original of free-thinkers," added the parson. " Then we have the wily Mephistopheles," observed Mr. Beaumont, "who dresses a la mode, and frequents the best society — le persifleur par excellence." " A thorough-going sceptic," interjected Parson Tupper, with a side-glance at the major. " The seducer of kings, but not above tripping up an innocent young couple, especially in a dark lane, when re turning from evening chapel," retorted Major Dearie, with a side-glance at the parson. " Then there is the ordinary devil," said Raleigh ; " a sort of hobgoblin, or moral hyena, who went about like a roaring lion seeking yvhom he might devour, and picking up tit-bits where least expected.

He did good service in the Middle Ages, and, according to Buckle, kept even such a hard headed nation as the Scotch in terroram for centuries. He has lost much of his prestige since, but yvill frighten old women even to this day." " Not forgetting our grotesque OldNick," put in Tippings, with a grin. " A queer old cuss, yvho yvas ahvays up to pranks. We used to sing at school — " ' Have you ever seen the devil, With his wooden spade and shovel Digging up potatoes, With his tail cocked up? ' ' " The devil is a stern reality," said Irving, seriously. " He is the source of all sin and misery in this world ■ the father of lies." "That last proposition I will make bold to dispute," declared the president, stoutly. "That the devil is intent on mischief, I yvill admit, and he is quite diplomatic enough to tell a lie yvhen it suits him, but there is no necessary con nection betyveen falsehood and evil.

In fact, there are good lies as well as bad ones." This astounding assertion was met by a general murmur of dissent. The parson almost crossed himself, and even the major gravely shook his head. Mr. Richard Raleigh felt the symptoms of opposition, but that he rather liked. He realised that he yvould have the room against him, but nothing daunted, he threw himself back in the presidential chair, placed his thumbs in the arm holes of his waistcoat, spread himself out, and prepared to support his thesis against all comers. " Yes," he said with emphasis, " I am aware that in ad vancing such an opinion I am running counter to an accepted belief; for, strange to say, although so many thinking people disagree on most things yvith one another ; although there are a hundred different religions, and as many more schools of philosophy which are all at loggerheads, all hating and denouncing one another • yet they all agree to agree upon one point — the belief in Truth.

They — every one of them — profess to be inquirers after truth ; they all pin their faith on truth ; they all sound her praises, burn incense at her altar, and subscribe to the universal dictum that what ever is true must be good. There yvould seem to be a consensus of opinion on that point. Whether the converse holds good is another question." "I am sure it doesn't," interjected Tippings, dolefully. " For last month I received tidings that an old maiden aunt had died and left me a big legacy. That was good, but unfortunately it turns out not to be true." " It is, no doubt, a knotty point," continued the president, without heeding the interruption, " to decide whether there may be moral good without truth. I will maintain that there is no necessary connection between the two. Of course, you will understand, that I am speaking of truth in the abstract."

A SOUTH- SEA SIREN. "Can't you bring it nearer home ? " roared the commodore, from the other end of the room. " Is it right to tell a lie?" " That depends." " Never ! " was the loud response from all parts of the room. "'Guides, philosophers, and friends,' hold your peace, and hear me out ! I respect a truth-speaking man as much as any of you here present do, and I don't think that I have ever personally been guilty of telling a deliberate falsehood, unless it may have been yvhere a lady was concerned. That, of course, is alloyvable." " Of course," responded the company. " I have even read that grave judges on the bench have admitted that there are cases where a gentleman is bound in honour to commit perjury." " And throw himself afterwards on the mercy of the court,'' added Mr. Beaumont. "A man is fully justified by law, and in the eyes of the yvorld, in pleading not guilty to any charge against himself; in fact, he has frequently been advised by the judge to do so, although he may previously have admitted his guilt.

No lawyer — perhaps I should say no successful lawyer — ever rejects favourable evidence because he knows it to be false. Client before truth is, I fancy, the rule, although I don't suppose it is openly professed. Do you admit that, Mr. Beaumont, you yvho are a lawyer?" " I admit nothing," replied the gentleman appealed to. " Now in private life, by universal consent, no man is called upon to speak the truth to his oyvn injury. Even such a blunt and uncompromising moralist as old Doctor Johnson admitted that there are occasions yvhen a man is fully justified in telling a direct lie. He instanced, I believe, the case of a yvriter being questioned concerning the author ship of some yvork which he yvished to remain anonymous. To decline to answer yvould be construed into an admission of the fact, therefore a point-blank denial yvould be warranted.

Sir Walter Scott, of whom a more straightforward and honourable man could not be found, adopted that view, and stoutly repudiated the authorship of the Waverley Novels, even long after the secret had become well known." "All this," remarked the magistrate, "looks like a piece of special pleading." " Allow me to proceed, and you will find that there is nothing very special about it. Let us turn from peaceful arts to those of war. I fancy that my gallant friend here yvill readily admit that truth is not recognised in warfare. In fact, that to hoodwink and deceive an enemy is held to be laudable, even to the issuing of forged despatches." " Certainly," replied the major, " any stratagem that suc ceeds, within the recognised rules of civilised yvarfare." "Then, if a prisoner yvere able to mislead his captors by giving them a false account, he would be acting rightly and honourably ?

" "Of course." " And if he lost his life through telling lies, he would be a hero ? " " He would deserve a statue, if by deceiving the enemy he was able to contribute to the safety of his own side ; even if he had been hanged as a spy." "We yvill now turn to diplomacy," continued Raleigh, smiling. " Here truth is very much out of place — not at all in her element. In fact, duplicity is an essential part of the business. They call it finesse, and it is considered a highly distinguished accomplishment of a statesman. Ac credited agents are not supposed to speak the truth, but at one time it was thought proper to place some reliance on the sacred word of honour of a reigning prince — a trust which, I fear, yvas so greatly abused that it has long since ceased to exist. In the ordinary walks of life, according to the prevailing rules of society, truth makes but a sorry shoyv.

Even yvhere a lie direct is censured, equi vocation and dissimulation are allowable. In the game of life we play, no one is supposed to show his hand. In the keen competition of business and conflicting in terests, truth cannot be said to have a place at all. She is tacitly ignored, yvhere she is not discarded. A man who would go about believing all he was told would be con sidered such an arrant fool that he yvould deserve to lose his money." " I quite fail to see how this homily on the deceitfulness of the world, which nobody denies, is calculated to assist your argument," remarked Mr. Beaumont. "I am also at a loss to understand," added the Rev. Tupper, " how the sacredness of truth can be called in question on the plea of the prevalence of duplicity and falsehood in a very artificial and godless society.

You might as yvell deny the efficacy of virtue, because most men are immoral. The light of truth, as revealed to us by God, shines clearly above, although obscured to our vision by the mists of ignorance and sin." Arthur Irving, the poetical young man, yvho had ahvays got a quotation at his fingers' ends, here cut in : '"Truth, though sometimes clad In painful lustre, yet is always welcome, Dear as the light that shows the lurking rock ; 'Tis the fair star that, ne'er into the main Descending, leads us safe through stormy life.' " Is it not to the revelations of truth," exclaimed the major, yvarmly, " that we oyve every step in moral and intellectual progress ? What have all the great philosophers and reformers of the world been but inquirers after truth ? What have they done but enlighten mankind?

Is it not the light of truth that has dissipated the poisonous mists of bigotry and superstition, and given us intellectual freedom ? How can truth be anything but allied to yvhat is good and useful ? Why, it is in the very nature of things, and requires no argument." " My friends," pleaded the president, " pray restrain the expression of your outraged feelings until I have finished, and hear me out. Please bear in mind what I said at the outset of my argument, that I was only dealing with truth in the abstract. I yvas not alluding to scientific discoveries, advances in political economy, or social improvements — all these are outside of the question at issue — nor was I dealing in particular yvith yvhat might be called personal veracity, which is a most laudable habit, and ought to be encouraged.

The commodore interrupted me with the query, ' Is it right to tell a lie ? ' I replied, ' That depends ; ' at yvhich you all cried me down. Yet, in support of my contention, you have tacitly admitted that in a great many instances it is perfectly right to tell a lie. Truth-speaking is not de rigueur in society, except in certain cases, so that it is rather the exception than the rule. According to the accepted code of morals — and what else are we to go by ? — a man may tell a lie to guard his honour, to defend his liberty, to protect his interests, to serve his oyvn party, or to deceive an enemy, and so on. The exemptions are too numerous to mention. We honour truth in theory, but we are agreed to ignore her in practice. At school, but only at school, telling a lie is a whipping offence. Then a great deal goes for the inten tion.

Even canonised saints have been known to tell lies, and yvrite them too, for the benefit of posterity — holy lies, they have been called —as they were intended for a good purpose." " That is a Jesuitical doctrine ! " exclaimed the Rev. Tupper. " The Reformed Church has never countenanced it." " Perhaps not. All I want to show is that as regards veracity it is recognised as a conventional matter. Now, please understand me ; I have nothing to say against reverence for truth. Place the goddess on a pedestal as high as the Great Pyramid, burn incense before her, sound her praises aloud, and fall down and yvorship her. Only it would, perhaps, be well if you first ascertained what you are yvorshipping ; it would be desirable to make sure that yve have all the same holy object for our adoration. Consider a moment, and ask yourselves, ' What is truth ? ' A great many amongst the wisest and best of men have been immolated on this altar.

That virtuous pagan Marcus Arelius persecuted the early Christians cruelly, and the Christians suffered martyrdom yvith fortitude and even ecstasy in the cause of truth. Later on we see the true Church burning heretics by thousands on account of their errors, and true reformers destroying the true Church on account of her errors. Civilised society was desolated through whole centuries by terrible wars and bloody massacres all in the same holy cause. " At the present day yvhat do yve see ? The zealous mis sionary, who suffers exile and braves every danger and privation in the belief that he is disseminating truth ; the scientist, yvorking ardently at the destruction of those same creeds on principles that he claims to be true ; the Indian fanatic, yvho endures self-inflicted tortures for holy truth's sake ; scores of religious and philosophical sects, yvho are all marching under the same banner of truth, but all hating and opposing one another ; victims without number to this moral Juggernaut that crushes or mangles whatever it passes over. . . .

Now tell me, somebody, whether all these fol loyvers after truth have been guided by one or by many different lights ? " " Many lights, of course," answered the parsou. " Many lights, and all false save one." " One, and indivisible, I think you should say, as the French used to describe their republic," continued Raleigh, yvith a smile. " This worship at the shrine of truth reminds me of the adulation paid to the statue of Liberty, yvhich stood by the side of the guillotine, and to yvhich poor misguided victims made their boyv before their heads yvere struck off. But to return to our subject. Which, out of so many, do you consider the real and blessed light ? " "The light of revelation," replied the party appealed to. " Man of his oyvn accord cannot discover the truth yvhich is hidden from him."

"The light of reason," asserted the major, stoutly, " which yvas given to man by nature for that purpose, and is his only guide." " The light of experience, I should say," remarked Mr. Beaumont. " From the yvisdom of ages we obtain an in sight into truth, which no single observation could ever give." " For my part, I don't see the advantage of discussion on these matters — they only unsettle a fellow," observed Irving, drearily. " I believe that certain things are true because I was brought up that way, and I believe that they are good because they are true." " I fancy yve shall all come to the same conclusion," added Tippings. " In the words of the poet : " 'And diff ring judgments serve but to declare That truth lies somewhere, if we knew but where.' " "That's about it," continued the president, yvarming up to his subject, ' if we knew but where.

Besides, on yvhat grounds can you assert positively that truth must be good ? " " Because, " replied Irving, "truth is a divine attribute. God is Truth." " My dear felloyv, you are arguing in a circle. What can you know about the divine attributes? Man, in all ages, has drayvn his God after his oyvn image, and not always a very flattering likeness either. He has endoyved the Deity with certain characteristics which he deems appropriate. Such terms as truthful, merciful, impartial, long-suffering, &c, applied to the Deity are meaningless." There yvas a pause, after yvhich Mr. Beaumont, taking up the argument for the other side, remarked quietly, " I admit that Abstract Truth, as representing the absolute Reality of Things, is hidden from us, but there is such a thing as relative truth ; also the many well-ascertained facts and conditions of things, which are truths of their kind, and have proved of infinite utility to mankind.

It is also given to us to discriminate moral truths, which are identified with what we know to be right and proper ; therefore we are justified in asserting in a general way, Truth must be good." "There I join issue with you," replied the other. "I believe that I could show that the rule does not hold absolute. What is true may, or may not be good." " Gentlemen ! I move that the discussion be adjourned," cried Arthur Irving. " The question is too profound to tackle at this hour of night." " Could not our yvorthy host prepare a discourse on this momentous subject, and lay it before us at our next meeting? " blandly inquired the parson. "Hear hear!" from the major. "It is a monstrous paradox, but none the less interesting on that account." "Carried unanimously," exclaimed the magistrate. " Mr. President, yve shall be prepared to hear a discourse from you at our next palaver ; subject, ' The Immorality of Truth.'" "And till then," put in the wag, "yve will let truth lie."

" Gentlemen," replied the president, rising and making a loyv bow, " I shall be most happy. I will put my thoughts into a condensed form, and invite discussion upon them afterwards." " Under the circumstances," observed Irving, sarcastically, as a parting shot, " I am sorry that I alluded to the devil as ' the father of lies.' If the term has given offence, I beg to yvithdraw it." There was a general laugh, in which Raleigh joined heartily. " I have no concern about the devil's reputation, I assure you," he replied. "But let me ask you this simple question. Why should the devil go about inventing lies, when he could save himself that trouble and do quite as much harm by confining himself strictly to the truth ? A malignant spirit, intent only on causing misery and dissen sion, and having access to all hidden sources of information could set society by the ears, break up happy homes, disunite the closest friendships, dishonour the noblest names, and tear most reputations to shreds — in short, do an infinity of mischief, and defame us all, and yet be perfectly veracious.

What gives venom to the sting of scandal is truth. " " And the greater the truth, the greater the libel," added Tippings. "Yet the devil tempted our first parents with a lie," remarked Irving, gravely. " Oh, murder ! " exclaimed the major, " I did hope that we had done with Eve and her apple long ago." The commodore had preserved a rather sulky silence throughout the discussion, smoking hard, and occasionally interrupting with a growl. He now sayv his chance for cutting in on a favourite topic, and without further prelude he launched forth into one of his noisy yarns of former prowess, made up, as Doctor Valentine used to say, of "three-decker lies." For half an hour at a stretch he thundered on, yvith startling oaths in support of his still more astounding asser tions, relating how, as a nondescript volunteer on a line-of battle ship, in the Baltic, during the Crimean War, he had, by mere force of genius and personal prestige, assumed command, taken the ship under fire, silenced the enemy's batteries, dispersed the hostile fleet, and achieved one of the grandest triumphs on record.

"The captain, sir!" he roared out, "the captain yvas my mouth-piece, nothing more. I gave my orders through him, out of respect for the discipline of the navy, as I would have done through a speaking trumpet. And yet when the engagement was over that man hardly mentioned my name in his despatches. The admiral of the fleet, he heard of me, and sent me a polite request to come on board the flag-ship. He yvas a grand old salt, the admiral, but stiff and formal, sir, yvedded to naval etiquette. As I approached I saluted. He touched his hat ; then held out one finger to me. I gave him one of my fingers in return. SIRE A7. 14 " ' Sir ! ' he exclaimed. " ' Sir, to you ! I have given you as good as you gave me!' " ' And who are you, sir? ' thundered the admiral. " ' I shoyved you in yesterday's engagement, sir, what I am,' I replied modestly.

" ' Mr. Wylde,' said the admiral, suddenly altering his manner. ' I had forgotten — you are a hero ! My rule, young sir, is to offer one finger to a midshipman, two to a lieutenant, three to a commander, and,' he added, giving me a warm grasp, 'my hand to a friend.' " From that day I and the admiral yvere inseparable. He wrote to the Admiralty reporting my services, and recom mending that I should be posted at once, and receive the Victoria Cross. " None of these honours were granted to me, and do you know why?" and the commodore glared sternly round upon the company. Nobody ventured an opinion. " Gentlemen, you will hardly credit it, yet such was the case. It was simply because I had never been gazetted ! The Lords of the Admiralty replied officially that my case was unprecedented, and consequently could not be dealt with — they could only act upon precedent.