The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET, AUCKLAND THURSDAY, MAY 16, 1929 THE TIGER AND THE LION

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 664, 16 May 1929, Page 8

The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET, AUCKLAND THURSDAY, MAY 16, 1929 THE TIGER AND THE LION

THE burning question in tke British Parliamentary election campaign glows on and about Mr. Lloyd George; Can the roaring Lion of Liberalism come back and worry the sheep and the goats in the political fold? This query fills the minds of the electors with the liveliest interest and apparently it is a piquant topic in Paris. Though the famous Liberal Leader has the finest mane among world statesmen he seldom has been looked upon as, or named after, the king of beasts, but the noble title may now he given him for the purpose of placing him in the jungle with the Tiger of politics—M. Georges Clemenceau who has been aroused in his lair by a journalist with “nerve” and resourceful curiosity. The intrepid man had his neck grabbed by the Tiger and was shaken playfully, but he got his story. In more ways than one the interviewer was lucky, for had he thought of the veteran statesman’s final unhappy matrimonial experience, he certainly would not have been so indiscreet as to ask: “What about the women’s vote?” Fortunately, the rash fellow was not mauled, and was spared to tell the world what the Tiger thought of the Lion and how they fared together and almost fought at the Paris Peace Conference.

It has been made clear with a streak of malice in the picture that the political saviour of France in the bad days does not love Great Britain’s “Happy Warrior.” Hear the Tiger growl!: “I will tell you about this Lloyd George. He is unstable and knows not what he wants. But I know what he wants. It is violence.” Then he confessed that he had quarrelled with the violent peacemaker at the Quai d’Orsay ten years ago, and that they had been kept from fighting by President Wilson who wisely intervened and, in an old-fashioned way, pushed the angry men apart. This probably explains why M. Clemenceau, as the inscrutable president of the Peace Conference, used to glare so often at the suave, eloquent man with the silver mane. At that trying time, of course, M. Clemenceau was embarrassed with his exalted position between two statesmen whose ideas and manner caused liim to say satirically that they believed themselves to he the supreme reincarnations of their time. Since the other has gone, attention may he given only to the one who then was suspected as being thd reincai’nated Napoleon. Whatever he was then need not be considered. Mr. Lloyd George is again himself, and determined to regain the power of supreme political leadership in the British Empire. Beyond doubt he is making the keenest fight ever seen in British political campaigning to come hack as a rejuvenated veteran. The strength of his battalion in the House of Commons is so meagre as to represent a forlorn hope—there are only 67 Liberals in an assembly of 615 politicians—but in the country for the present campaign it has become as “terrible as an army with banners.” The Liberals were first in the battlefield on All Fools’ Day, and they are waging relentless political war from Land’s End to John o’ Groats. Four thousand speakers—four thousand men chosen to preach the gospel of Liberalism because they ean speak without mumbling—are wooing the twenty-eight million voters throughout the kingdom to the revived cause of the old Liberals. And the popular capitalist Press is with that loquacious army and is behind it flourishing spears, forgetful of its former ferocity of hostility, and shouting with all its might for the man who, alone, can cure unemployment and save the country from Socialism and amiable, stagnant Toryism. Rival parties and papers are no less vehement in denunciation of the great Liberal parade of promise, and assert bluntly that Mr. Lloyd George is engaged in the most gigantic bluff of his long political life which never has been marked with a shy modesty. The Tories appear to have got over their initial panic, and are now telling the electors that the political race will be like the Grand National in that it is not always the horses that start with a rush who get over the last fence. Meanwhile, the Lion—“this Lloyd George”— is seeking its prey in the noisy jungle of politics. If he wins, the French Tiger would not he satisfied with pressing the neck of an English interviewer, hut would break it.

THE WAYS OF LEARNING

HIGHLY controversial questions of primary and secondary educational policy are being brought under public notice at the moment through the discussions of school-teachers’ associations and the New Zealand Educational Institute. In a special report submitted to the institute in conference, a subcommittee presented proposals that, if adopted, would alter the whole complexion of the educational system. There seems to be fairly general agreement among educationists that the system needs altering, but the remedies proposed are usually so diverse in character as to rouse the suspicion rather than the support of the general public. In this instance the proposals are unlikely to excite any very enthusiastic sentiment, and the public will still hesitate to endorse sweeping changes until they have been minutely and exhaustively examined. The committee reporting to the institute suggests that all education in each district should he under the control of a single authority until the scholars’ secondary education is completed. It is not easy to see exactly what this suggestion implies. A second claim is that the size of primary classes needs reducing. The point will be generally conceded. Next comes an arbitrary division of the child’s educational progress into the following stages: (a) age 3to 5; (b) age sto 11; (c) over 11. When over 11 years the child is assumed to be fit for secondary education, but this is a dangerous assumption to apply in a general sense. Next it is proposed that between the ages of 11 and 15 The child’s tendencies shall be examined in different sets of curricula to determine for what career he or she shows a bent. Here the trouble is that many youngsters, in spite of the most searching examination, will show a bent for nothing of greater moment than football. Between 11 and 15 the child is—unfortunately, for otherwise greater and more powerful men would be produced—chiefly concerned with the fact that lessons are an indisputable bore, to he evaded if evasion is feasible. Any tendencies exhibited at this period may often be aggressively contradicted later, when, at the ages of 17, 18 or 19, serious prospects do grip the imagination. Thus there is a danger that, while the exploratory work from 11 to 15 may not serve its purpose, real loss will he occasioned through the diffusion of effort and lack of attention to the essential subjects on which nearly all schemes of preparation for any life work should be founded. In the meantime, exploration or no. the Hon. H. Atmore is going hot and strong for more agriculture in education, hut the danger is that between fads and fallacies (lie real substance ot' sound grounding may be denied the men and women of the future.