Round THE Corners

New Zealand Mail, Issue 810, 9 September 1887, Page 17

Round THE Corners

Newspapers are classed among the ephemeral literature of the day, and ephemeral they may be, while yet there is no other literature so potent in its effects, or that makes a deeper mark on the social surface. Newspapers are great educators ; they are the one source of information to tens of thousands of people, and they who construct them cannot bear this fact in mind too seriously, and weigh well what they write, or publish, lest they mislead a weaker brother. The leading characteristics of newspaper men should be calm, unbiased judgment, self-abnegation, an intense longing to play fair to the public, and, as far as poor' human fallibility may permit, to write nothing tending to lower the tone of public morality. The first step in journalism is the sinking of number one. A journalist merges, as it were, his individuality in his profession—a profession that ought to be the most honorable—sacred even —upon earth. lam not clear that entering upon the field of journalism ought not to involve the taking of solemn vows against oppressing the weak, to administer strict justice in a journalistic way, and to strain every nerve to give the unadulterated news of the day, the administration of course being clrsely in consonance with the laws of the land —those of libel not excluded—although when the journal is rich, and stands firm, libel laws may be disregarded with much benefit to a suffering public. And one prominent vow should be the sacrifice of self. I can imagine the initiating priest solemnly adjuring the neophite to sink self in tbe broad, deep, and growing order to which he was about to be attached, and to bear in mind that the highest form of reward he might hope tor was the approval of a clear conscience for duty done, and the elevation, and purification, of character which must wait upon that duty. And the neophite, with a swelling consciousness of the noble career before him, would enter upon it without fear, or hope of favor, and by his probation fitted to undertake its duties. I am afraid this is a mighty fine ideal of journalism, an ideal far from borne out by absolute facts. For journalism is spreading and spreading, and is falling into all sorts of hands, and is undergoing grievous prostitution. Still, therefore, the more reason for a section of it, at any rate, to be governed by the highest of principles. For the rate at which a nation or country is hastening to perdition, or to a very painful process of purgation of evil, may be gauged by the character, or want of character, of its journalism. Show me the sort of society a man keeps and I’ll tell you his character, said some one or other, and I say, describe to me the character of the journalism of a country and I’ll-tell you the character of its people in a general way. In this country of many newspapers, the superfluity means dilution, and dilution is suggestive of washed-outedness. The tone of journalism is lowered thereby, and newspapers become mere purveyors of news, and if they are confined to that, worse may he prevented. Still, even in the selection of news great discretion is demanded, and, then again, some newß demands free comment, someone ought to sit in judgment on it, and thus the necessity for a high journalistic standard makes itself felt.

One of the difficulties of journalism, and a serious one it is, is dealing with the public speaker. He is as an adder in the path and a lion in the way, very frequently, when he is reported too literally, and cannot be made to believe that he really did say so and so. And then he immediately manufactures an astounding big grievance, and poses as a martyr before a sympathising public, and upon the unhappy paper is heaped the bitterness of his wrath. The fact is, people get upon their hind legs, at public meetings, and lose their heads at once. They have to say something and, not having the faculty of the exact choice of words, make wild philological clutches, and very often a mess at the same time. And the mess is reported in the papers, and then there is a shout o£ indignation raised, and the paper is anathamatised for saying what it ought to say, and, if it won’t retract, it is threatened and bumped and bounced, and I don’t know what all, and the lives of all connected with it are made miserable. I think there ought to be a law prohibiting impromptu speaking at public meetings. Everybody should have their speeches written out beforehand, like the election speech of someone I know that was printed and published before it was uttered, its excellence alone excusing the shameful anachronism. Yes, indeed, and then the newspapers would have the speaker’s “copy” to fall back upon, and all would be made nice and comfortable. Of course, we all know what a iolly place for rumors Wellington is, so no one is a bit surprised, or taken aback, by the latest, which affirms that a corrupt, unprincipled and audacious Government is bringing out candidates in its interest and 'paying their expenses. Think of that—paying their expenses —and also only think of the weeping and wailing there is among a lot of folks who are not in the swim. Well, I shall be just glad when this election is over. It is a great trouble to us all. In the first place, there is no money spending, over it worth a cent. In the second, there is quite the usual average of ill-feeling, individual and collective, generated, and in the third, candidates’ worry is weariness of the flesh and spirit to newspaper men. And some people are still so foolish as to prate about parties, as if party lines were not literally obliterated in New Zealand. Instead of parties, according to the ancient meaning of the term, we have sets of individuals all slaving and working in there own interest, some individuals more prominent than others, but members of sets, every one, and all ready, pretty much, to say or do anything to bring grist to their mills, and are slaves of expediency every man Jack of them. If this isn't made prominently manifest when

the next Parliament meets, well, I shall be delighted. Now and then common aphorisms are funnily misunderstood. Folks read them literally and act accordingly. A humorous incident to this effect found birth the other day, through the mediumship of the torn-to-tatters quotation, “ washing dirty linen in public.’ It was used in connection with a public institution attached to which were many households, but two of them lay check by jowl. And the domestic of the one had read a report about the institution in which the quotation appeared, and it exercised her sorely. And she said to her “missus,” “It can’t mean us, ma’am, I am sure onr clothes were not particularly dirty, but I shouldn’t he surprised if it meant them next door. I was looking at the clothes hung out last week, and I thought they were a very dark color.” The “ Flaneur ” writer of the Sydney Mail tabes notice of that which, from the tenor of his remarks, I should say was not a common practice in New South Wales. It is to b® regretted that as much cannot be said for New Zealand. Thus the Mail : It is said ilia? “dog does not eat dog;” but when a country i‘ points out blunders on tbe part of a contemporary, it is very much like the practice referred to. ■ tie of these journals published the other day what purported to be a quotation from a “ grand, old hymn” of Dr. Watts, as follows: There everlasting spring ables And never wither any flowers. A rival journal is asking in what part of the grand old. hymn these lines are to be found. Canine cannibalism, of the sort mentioned, is very prevalent in this Colony ; or rather the dogs are not dogs but wolves, which it is wellknown do prey upon each other when hard pressed. And there again they are superior to the animals that eat each other here; the wolves are driven by the stem necessity of famine, the animals here are prompted by natural instinct. It is bred in them. They are sui generis.

Rather an awkward document that which we are told is going the rounds of the city or Auckland for signature, and has already several hundred names attached to it. The document wants to make New Zealand a Crown Colony again, and so relieve it of a portion of that awful pressure of taxation —for one thing under which it is groaning; and for another, to put a bit of a drag on the headlong and headstrong progress of rabid democracy that threatens to—and will—carry everything before it. The Colony would he held up to the world as a shocking bad example if the substance of the Auckland document found effect, and that, you know, would be awful and not to be thought of. Still the birth and circulation of such a document is significant in the highest degree, and goes to show what some people are prepared to do under the extreme pressure of circumstances, and is also a very wide and deep suggestion to the administrators of the Colony’s affairs to keep that administration within proper limits. No one may affirm that New Zealand’s administration is not overgrown any more than that any one may affirm that labor is not just as hig a tyrant as capital, and grasping withal. The action of the Seamen’s Union proves that. In the latter case it will just be “pull devil pull baker,” and let the stronger win. In the former matters are more complicated, and although a great many of us would deeply grieve to see the fair name of the Colony besmirched and hefouled, still the inception of that blessed document is a tolerably broad hint as to possibilities and “might he’s.” There is a limit to human endurance, and let us hope the new Parliament will take the hint when it assembles.

Aye, medical science has indeed taken strides during the last two decades, and there is no surer sign of this than the way medical men take the public into their confidence. Medical practice is not so arbitrary as it was ; instead of dogmatising it appeals to the intelligence of patients—when it can—for alas, and alack a day ! too often medical science finds precious little intelligence to appeal to, and then there is nothing for it but sledge-hammer dogmatism—do so and so, my lady and gentleman, or stand the consequences. Medical mert have vastly grown in liberality, the inevitable result of greater confidence in themselves begotten of an infinitely greater insight into their profession. They are, at last, really beginning to understand the subject; have secured a very strong grip of it; are understanding the philosophy of the thing, and have simplified it muchly. And their broad views, and liberal sentiments place them well in touch with the people ; they know that, explain as they may, the great bulk of the people can’t do without them, while they have learned how more readily diseases succumb to intelligent treatment than to mere meehanical obedience to “ the doctor’s orders,’ and hence’ it is to their interest to promote intelligence as much as possible. And more than that, the members of the leading profession of the human race—• for the practice of therapeutics is the leading profession of the day—are influenced by still higher motives —the extinction as well as the absolute control of diseases. This was put very nicely by Dr Newman, during the delivery of his lecture last Tuesday evening, on how to preserve health. Yes, the Doctor was very happy in his remarks, and told the audience some valuable truths, that, it is to be hoped, will be laid to heart and acted upon. Wonder though he did'not say avvord in favor of hot baths. Among the other changes that have taken place in the human constitution, during the Jubilee period, is greater harmony with hot bathing than cold. The brutal application of cold water, once an article of faith with English people, has fallen into much disrepute, and the astonishing benefits, derivable from a judicioua use of warm water, are coming into general recognition. Every house should have a hot water service; the first expense is nothing to the after advantages, and then the first expense is soon recouped by the utilisation of the heat from the kitchen fire that would otherwise go to waste. It keeps the boiler hot, and so hot’wat<?r is always available. Asmodeus.