CURRENT TOPICS.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXIII, Issue 13716, 5 April 1905, Page 6

CURRENT TOPICS.

A sausage, according to the standard dictionary, is “an article

THE SAUSAGE MYSTERY.

9 of. food, consisting of moat, especially pork, finely chopped and highly seasoned, and commonly stuffed into the clean and prepared entrails of some animals.” This was the definition quoted in the course of a case in Melbourne the other day, when the Magi strato declared, in giving his decision, that the sausage was the greatest of all mysteries. \The serious side of the case was concerned with the use of preservatives, a question that might well receive attention in New Zealand during tho hot leather. The Melbourne City Council, in its crusade against the adulteration of foods, had bought sausages which, on analysis, were found to contain 16.4 grains of boric acid' to the pound. Tho City Health Officer declared that quantity to bo injurious to health. Milk containing So grains to the gallon has been declared by the Courts to bo adulterated and dangerous to health, and with the same percentage of boric acid as the sausages' contained, milk would show 164 grains to the gallon. Naturally, tho discussion in Court wandered at times perilously close to tho ridiculous, because even magistrates are disposed at times to regard sausages as only subjects for cheap humour. One lawyer wanted to put the riddle, when is a sausage not a sausage? Eventually ho fixed his case on tho contention. “ onoo a sausage, al-. ways a sausage.” The Magistrate scorned to think that tho “ sausage of commerce ” was a mixture that could not be adulterated, whatever was put into it. ‘‘'This sausage,” ho said, “is simply a sausage .with tho preservative added.” Counsel for the City Council promptly replied that with the addition of the preservative the article ceased to be a sausage. Af least, it was no longer the article of food which a customer expected to get when lie purchased sausages. The Magistrate hold to his view, however, that the mere addition of 16 grains of boric acid did not affect tho reliability of the “sausage of commerce,” and dismissed the case. It was, on the evidence, an extraordinary decision. Tho use' of preservatives is notoriously common in wanner climates, but it is not unknown even in New Zealand, and there is room for a good deal of activity on the part

of health officers in New Zealand. There is probably no country on earth v

where so little trouble is taken by the authorities to protect the public in the purchase of foods..

LtrxmT AND POVEKTT.

The heads of the' various University settlements in London

have written to the “Times” to draw attention .to the evils that are fostered by the habits of luxury of the upper classes, and to the effects of the existence, side by side, of extreme luxury and extreme poverty. “Extravagant expenditure * on food, on dress, and on passing pleasure has increased,” they say, “anh 28 out of every 1000 citizens of London are paupers. The national revenue is £125,115,218, and the streets in which the working classes live are mean and often ill-lighted and ill-cleaned. TSe drink bill is £174,445,271, and there are children who cannot be educated because they are insufficiently nourished.” They take their stand on.th« economic maxim that money spent on • mere luxury is money wasted. " Having,”' rather than “ being,” is the chief object of life, education is regarded as a means of livelihood only, and charity is treating men and women as animals, with no wants beyond food and shelter. “Luxury,” they continue, “ induces the selfishness which makes us, as a nation, indifferent to the ugliness of our towns. When private possession of wealth is regarded as necessary to happiness, the sky is defiled with smoke, grass and trees are destroyed, and slum. quarters are permitted in order that successful people may surround themselves with the comforts and beauty which art and skill provide. But the mass of people who have to do their work amid depressing ugliness and dirt miss the recreation which their wearied minds and bodies might find in an environment of natural beauty. They become less fit for work, a readier prey to .drink, and more dependent on exciting pleasures. They start. on the road which ends in poverty.” And, finally, luxury “ leads to cruelty in industrial ‘ relations,’ profits are put before health, gambling before work, and force before right; child labour is used, conditions of trade and housing which cripple strength are permitted, and wars, industrial as well as-foreign, are justified; landlords take their 'rent, and holders of shares in companies taka their dividends and forget the earners’ sufferings.” It is, no doubt, a striking indictment that these workers among the masses have drawn up, but it is to be feared that no mere indictment of luxury, however logical, will turn wealthy Britons towards : the simpler life. , '

There are people who regard politics as •an art, whilst\others, more

THE MADE OF POLITICS.

practically disposed, stoutly maintain that they are nothing more nor less than a profession. “ Macmillan’s Magazine has been dealing with this particular phase of public life in an article entitled “The Modern Trade of-Politics.” According to the writer of this article it is a moot point whether the modern process, of selection ■is preferable to the,; method of a candidate offering himself for acceptance , or rejection by a constituency. A few dressy persons nominate themselves and one another as members of an association, with some pretentious title, and then claim to speak and act in the name of thouands of electors. As a preliminary step they exact from aspirants to'the honour of becoming parliamentary representatives a pledge to abide by the decision of this self-constituted body. The man of fluent speech or ample promises, or, more, often, the man with the longest purse, is almost certain to secure the suffrages and- to be announced as the accepted candidate of the party. His immediate duty is to begin a system of nursing the constituency. H'e is expected to find most, if not the whole, of the funds, including the expenses of registration, little or nothing being raised locally. He is required to be at the beck and call of every little coterie, to take th« chair at meetings and lectures, to open bazaars, to distribute school prizes, to patronise smoking concerts and other entertainments, to attend religiouj functions and school festivities, to b« initiated into the Ancient Buffaloes ' and other mysterious orders, and to subscribe to the thousand and one objects devised by ingenious and sleepless philanthropy, often of a strictly professional / character. The writer then proceeds to deal with the various political organisations which have been formed, and which he holds are simply used for log-rolling purposes. Vast amounts of money and energy, he thinks, are. wasted in politics, and ; withal the standard of public life has a tendency to fail. “ Parliament,” he concludes, “has come to be regarded-by , some merely as a pleasant club introducing them to society, by others as a sphere for advancing professional interests, or as opening the way to lucrative directorships and contracts, or as affording a gratuitous platform for promulgating their favourite theories.” Happily we have not quit® reached the same state of affairs in New Zealand, but even here there is a , tendency to regard politics as a stepping stone to social distinction and a help to commercial success.