PIERROT ABROAD.

Auckland Star, Volume XL, Issue 127, 29 May 1909, Page 14

PIERROT ABROAD.

THE WAYS OF FRENCH SWITZERLAND. That the transition from German to French Switzerland is sudden and complete is the barest truth: one might say that it is startling. After all, you are to all intents purposes in France wnen you are in Geneva, for a barely arduous walk will take you across the frontier, and you will notice no striking change in customs or manner of life. I see thi.s corner of Switzerland, then, as part of France, except, perhaps, for one thing—the greater devotion of the Swiss Frenchman to sport, and more especially to what he cails "football Rugby." In France, "football Rugby" is

regarded as a charming eccentricity, a fashionable craze of the masculine world. Quite on all fours with the feminine

"'five o'clock' , (which, more or less weirdly pronounced, is the French name for our afternoon tea). But in Switzerland,

"football Rugby" is taken quite " au serieux"; and the time is rapidly approaching, when a match, like one that is being played this week between Switzerland and Germany, will bo something like the profoundly important event that are similar matches in the British-speak-ing world. In the meantime, the newspapers discuss with quite Anglo-Saxon enthusiasm the relative merits of backs and forwards (for these two classes seem to include all the players in a game of

"football Rugby, - ' as distinguished from Rugby football) ; and all the squares reecho with the voices of persons of frndet and treble year?, engaged in kicking a diminutive football and shrieking their reasons why it should be kicked by somebody rise.

1 have no intention of recapitulating the glories of Geneva, whether as ancient and modern city, or as a beauty spot on a charming lake and enjoying glimpses of soiri'p of the highest Alps. All that is in guide-books, and much better, it is ill Buskin's "Praeterita." I prefer to give you something that no guide-book will give you—an honest impression of tliy)fO])le of French Switzerland. 1 can claim no finality for my judgments, and I must aslc you to accept them with all reservations.

The first thing that struck mc in Oneva was the relative darkness of its houses. 1 had occasion to climb the stone staircases of many apartment liouses (for all Swiss residences, or nearly all, are on the flat principle), and i found that only one floor in three was decently lighted, and that for tho rest it was necessary to strike matches and feel one's way with an unpleasant chance of slipping down and breaking a knee-cap. Now, that is typical of the French — as anyone know 3 who has passed through the miserably lighted railway stations on the route to Paris or Lyons. And nothing is more striking to a newcomer than the contrast in respect both with England and Germany (including German Switzerland), wl ere people rrefer to spend a trifle more and rest immune, not only from a fractured skull, but from endless wasted time, spent in hastening slowly down six or seven perilous flights of steps. 1 like the French. 1 like their geniality, their very real kindness —there is no race so thoughtfully sympathetic in the lesser details of life: liut I cannot pretend to respect them as a practical and longsighted people. I could give you a hundred instances to show how they lag behind the English and the German? in. as many particulars of utility. They have no sense whatever of "making things easy" in a business sense. Their local authorities are a constant source of irritation, insisting on "permits"' for this and that, and wasting endless time in granting them. Their doors and windows are fitted with ingenious catches, which have no earthly merit but their ingenuity; their public libraries are hedged with foolish restriction*; their museums are unlabelled, except by numbers from the catalogue: their streets have carefully devised (for these same i streets are otherwise magnificently laid) changes of level, which will bring the unwary down on his head if he go not cautiously. All these things serve to create the impression that the people —charming as they are in a social sense—have not really learned the art oi business management. Delays in business—a- I have found out in a single week of residence—are the rule, and not the exception: and promises of delivery or of execution of orders are little more reliable than in some cities of the Orient.

An instance of this conservatism—it is highly amusing that the French should ridicule the conservatism of Englishmen—lies in the fact that in Geneva, where all the electricity is generated by one of the biggest waterpower schemes in Europe, lighting ie absurdly dear; in fact, treble of what it w«9 in Lucerne. And why i.s this? Simply and solely because enough people have not the enterprise to embark on electric lighting. If only one quarter of the population would light up electrically, the price would drop to something almost nominal. But as it is, everybody is waiting for everybody else, and everybody else is waiting for the price to go down! And thus the greater part of the value of what was a really gigantic scheme is practically lost to the community. And such things are big with significance, not only in themselves, but because they reflect a deficiency in the national character. I cannot cite any nation—l have known many an individual—that has fallen through a false economy, but the possibility is always there. Economy with the French is r> mania—a. mania held up to ridicule even by far-sighted Frenchmen themselves. And in business, which nowadays is the mainspring of •States as well as the need of persons, it is as dungerous to be too sparing as to be too prodigal.

French Tm-rinees methods generally strike mc a; "being of the old-fashioned, close-fisted order. The Frenchman prefers the unwilling purchaser, and a large profit to the -willing customer at a low profit. He i-s like the narrowly opportunist statesman, who sacrifices everything to the moment. Tn this, of course, he may sometimes be right; 'but It seems to me—and in face of an initial prejudice in favour of all things French ■ that he is far more often wrong. And the policy of Weeding does not "even apply solely to the tradesman; for the tradesman in turn is bled by fh:= authorities, who tax his advertisements, charge him for shop-signs, and otherwise place restrictions in his way. Indeed, "restrictions" seems to be the watchword of Government in French-Switzerland and unnecessary restrictions are the first thing to be avoided in a modern commercial State. I do not mean, of course, the legitimate protection of Society against Capital; I mean that policy of pin-pricking without adequate reason, which is better developed by tlie Gcnevois authorities than by <mv others I have ever encountered. They ere past-masters, it seems to mc, in the art of senseless interference.