TOPICS OF THE WEEK. THE AUSTRALIAN STANDARD.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVII, Issue IX, 29 August 1896, Page 265

TOPICS OF THE WEEK. THE AUSTRALIAN STANDARD.

WHAT is a habitual drunkard ? To what degree of inebriety a man may go without being classed in the category of drunkards is rather a delicate question. and it appears to be still more difficult to determine what constitutes a habitual drunkard. Different communities and different times have different standards, and what may be commended in one place as merely prolonged festivity may be condemned in another as confirmed debauchery. The Australian standard, as expounded by Judge Williams, of Victoria, is remarkablv easv —so easy, indeed, that I should advise any of our New Zealanders who are in danger of losing their character for sobriety to betake themselves to Melbourne, where their behaviour, which so shocks and pains their friends here will be passed over as an amiable peccadillo. Judge Williams, speaking from the judgment seat in connection with a divorce case the other day, said that if he were to class every man who got drunk on Saturday and stayed drunk all Sunday as a habitual drunkard, he would require to divorce two-thirds of the labour population. As a judge it was, of course, imperative that he should have some clear-cut definition of what habitual drunkenness was, and probably had he consulted his own feelings in the matter he would have included under it the man who gets incapable from Saturday night to Monday morning, just as the man who attends church regularly every Sunday is classed as a habitual churchgoer. But the adoption of such a strict standard was apparently out of the question in Melbourne. For one thing it would have entailed endless work on the Divorce Court over which Judge Williams presides, so in self-defence he had to adopt another. It would be interesting to know what tests a man must fulfil to be classed as a habitual drunkard by the Judge. Whatever conclusions his experience had led him to, Judge Williams was guilty of wretched indiscretion in speaking as he did. No wonder that he got severely ‘ sat on ’ by Parliament, and had to eat his words in a most ignominious way. Fancy a judge having to explain that he made an assertion from the Bench ‘ without the slightest thought.’ Joking apart, the statement is too gross to be credited, or, if it is true, woe to Australia ! THE JUDGMENT OF JUDGES. who confine their study of human nature 1 within the limits of the Police Court are not likely to be greatly impressed with the perfectibility of the species. I have often been surprised that our magistrates and judges did not all become cynical misanthropes, breathing, as they continually do, an atmosphere of crime and folly. Just consider how difficult it must be for a Judge of the Divorce Court to take a favourable view of married life when every day brings before him fresh instances of matrimonial infelicity and duplicity, and one can almost excuse a gentleman who has had the darkest side of the world continually before his eyes becoming something of a pessimist. The fact is that outside of their own particular sphere the judgment of judges—at least colonial judges—is much less to be relied on than that of the man in the street. The popular conception of a judge as a

man of infinite sagacity and wisdom may be all very right so long as the judge confines himself to his bench and the matters that he has specially studied, but it is by no means equally applicable to him when he doffs his gown and horsehair wig and descends from the judgment seat. Then ne is very much in danger of generalising on the basis of the experience of life he has gained in court, which may be a large, but is still a limited experience. THE RACE FOR THE POLE. THE North Pole has as yet eluded the search of both the Norwegian and the Swede. Andree’s air-ship collapsed just as he was about to take his flight for Boreal regions, and at the same time Dr. Nansen, who had preceded him northwards three years before on a similar quest, though in a less sensational fashion, turned up in civilization, but with no Pole. But neither mishap nor failure is likely to daunt these intrepid explorers, and we may expect before long to hear of another good ship ‘ Fram’ and another balloon being equipped for the frigid voyage. It is rather a wonder to me that there is not a greater number of aspirants after polar honours. These are the days when men and women will do and dare anything for fame or notoriety, and have been known to blow their brains out quite deliberately for the sake of such posthumous glory as a double-headed newspaper paragraph can bestow. Where was there ever a finer field in which to gain distinction than the polar regions ? America has been discovered, Africa is no longer a dark continent, and all the isles of the sea have had geographical labels affixed to them, and science has not hit on any method of getting to another planet. Whither shall the explorer with his Alexandrine thrist turn ? There is only the North and the South Pole, only these ; but they, let it be said, present difficulties which should stir his soul to its foundations. These extremities of the earth have been reserved by Providence as a sort of bonne bouche or ice cream for the discoverer. Why, then, are there but two, and these two belonging to insignificant nations like Norway and Sweden, who are entered for this big polar event ? Where are the intrepid sons of France, greedy of glory ? Are they not among the contestants ? William of Prussia, too, does he neglect this golden opportunity of adding to the Fatherland ? And lastly, where is England, she whose ships have been the first to sail over many a sea. and whose sons have in the past been the foremost to dare the dangers and rigours of the Arctic clime ? Why are there practically but two entries for this race to the pole ? Here are a sheaf of questions which demand answers. IT is incredible to me, when the hunger and thirst after territory seems to have taken hold on all peoples, that none of the great Powers have determined to annex the Great Polar Continent. What would be the use of it? you ask. Reader, do you not believe in Science? The time may come when, in obedience to Dame Nature’s magic, the hyperborean deserts will blossom like the rose, and the once inhospitable ice-fields become the abode of a happy people. Or, to deal with geological periods, may it not come to pass in the still more remote future that where the Pole now is the climate will be delightfully temperate if not semi-tropic. Then will be the time for Sweden and Norway to crow over the rest of Europe, when by their foresight they have secured for their inheritance one of the fairest and most fruitful regions of the earth. When the other nations have through climatic influences degenerated to the level of the present Esquimaux, the happy and enlightened Norwegians and Swedes will be reaping their reward. With such a prospect in view why does not Great Britain secure the Pole. It is already Scotland’s by traditional humour, and on the well-understood rule that all the unappropriated parts of the globe, with all the oceans, are the heritage of our countrymen, we should prevent any other nationling jumping our claim. THE ANTI-CYCLERS. THE Waimea (Nelson) Primrose League has developed severe anti-cycle symptoms, and is urging the Government to tax the blessed wheels on the following grounds (1) They are getting so numerousas to become a nuisance ; (2) are injurious to farmers, horsebreeders, saddlers, blacksmiths, etc. ; and (31 are purely a luxury, and one likely to become general. The severity of the indictment suggests that the League would like to tax the bicycles out of existence, and perhaps the members have some dim sort of hope that the thing is doable. Clearly the League is far behind the times, or it would never entertain such an animosity towards man’s friend and companion—the bicycle. I have some difficulty in following the reasoning of the organisation. In the first place I can’t see how the increasing number of cycles should render them a nuisance any more than an increased number of carriages, carts, or wheelbarrows which ply in the streets. If the bicycle assumed, like the impertinent perambulator, a

right to the footpath. I would be ready to admit that it was a nuisance, but it in no way interferes with the privileges of the pedestrians on the sidewalk. That its advent has had indirectly an injurious effect on farmers, horsebreeders, saddlers, and blacksmiths iscertainlv verv true, and it is quite natural that those who follow such occupations should feel sore. But probably no innovation that has added to the amenities of life has not threatened to injure or has actually injured some class. It is the old story of the introduction of machinery. The steam power loom was to take the work from the workmen’s hands and the bread from their mouths. The railway was to do away with the use of horses. But as we all know, though at first steam had an injurious effect on human and horse labour, it very soon doubled and quadrupled the openings for both. The league condemns the bicycle on the ground that it is a luxury. This sounds quite Spartan like, but when we remember the scores of riding and carriage horses which are kept for pleasure—regarding which the League has not a condemnatory word—we begin to question the disinterestedness of this last argument. Nor is it altogether correct. The cycle is undoubtedly a luxury in many instances, but in many others it is for work and economy, and not for mere pleasure that it is used. And apart from work or play it has a value as a health-giving agency that at once removes it from the category of useless pleasures. To put a heavy tax on bicycles, as the League would doubtless do if it had the chance—a prohibitive tax — would be the height of folly and injustice. THE STOCKBROKER’S VISION. THE other night, before retiring to bed, I was warming myself before my study fire and fondling some bright anticipations in connection with certain investments of mine in the mining market during the preceding day. Suddenly the thought struck me that I should like to take a walk down Queen-street. It was certainly rather an odd hour for taking such a fancv—the Librarv clock had just announced to the town that it was midnight—and my dress was assuredly not strictly en regie for a street promenade, but curiously enough I did not seem to have any clear perception of these things at the time, so I sallied briskly forth. I found Queen-street brilliantly illuminated from end to end ; its illumination on the respective occasions of the jubilees of the Queen and the colony was nothing compared to its present blaze of light. I was just a little surprised, and remarked to a bystander that I had not expected to find so much life and light in Queen-street at that hour of the night. ‘lf you always spend this hour of the night in bed, how can you expect to know the present aspect of Queen-street?’ he retorted rather rudely. He was a tall man, wearing an immaculate evening suit with an air of respectability that was not a whit lessened by the facts that instead of a hat he wore a large bath towel, twisted turban-wise, round his head, and was leaning up against a pillar letter-box sucking an orange. •Is there anvthing special going on just now ?’ I asked, after a pause in which I had been interestedly watching the noiseless traffic of the streets and the stream of brightly dressed ladies pouring in and out of shops so magnificently appointed that f wondered I had never noticed them in Queen-street before. ‘ Nothing beyond the usual business of the night,’ he returned superciliously. • Busiof the night?' I repeated puzzled, for the words suggested to me burglary and its kindred professions. • You may ask me questions,’ he said graciously, throwing away his now depleted orange skin, ’I see you are a stranger here.’ ‘ I’m no such thing,’ I cried indignantly. * I’ve never left Auckland for the last ten years except to goto the Ellerslie races.’ ‘Excuse me,’ he said, ‘you have just returned from a five years residence in Paraguay.’ I was surprised to hear this, for I had not been aware of the fact until he mentioned it, but a little reflection made me feel sure that he was right so I began asking questions assured of sufficient excuse for doing so.

‘Why do Aucklanders carry on their daily business through the night ?’ ‘ For the very natural reason that they can’t get through it during the day,’ he answered. ‘When you left Auckland five years ago there wasn’t enough business doing in the city to occupy more than a few hours of the day, though, even then, one class of the community—the sharebrokers—had been compelled by the pressure of work to extend their business hours. But the great Hauraki mining boom, which was then only in its infancy, has now assumed gigantic proportions, and the consequent marvellous prosperity of Auckland has earned for this city the well-sounding title of the “ El Dorado of the Southern Hemisphere.” One result of this state of thingsis that the business done in the city has increased to such an extent that, let the citizens do their very best, they cannot possibly overtake it, unless they work for the large majority of the twenty-four hours. ’ I tried to faintly realise this changed order of things. Then I asked, ‘ But why do the ladies go shopping at this very unseasonable hour?’ ‘Because they can’t get

all their shopping crushed into the daylight hours, of course. By Act of Parliament—one of the latest of Mr Seddon’s administration —we have a very fair division of labour betw’een the sexes : the men are strictly confined to the making of money and the women to the spending of it-’ ' The women have the best of it in that division of labour,’ I said drily. ‘I don't know,' answered my companion thoughtfully *I do think they liked it at first, but the prosperity which the great mining revival has established throughout the colony is on such a stupendous scale that the men are making money far faster than the women can spend it. The poor ladies, to do them justice, stra'n every nerve to keep pace as money-spenders with the money earners —some of the more delicate ones have already succumbed iti the struggle—but unless a salutary period of commercial depression sets in, the women will be hopelessly in arrears in their money spending.’ ‘ But why need they spend more than they like ?’ ‘ You seem to be ignorant of the simplest laws of political economy, my friend,’ he responded contemptuously. ‘ Money must be made to circulate, and those who have it recognise, as the penalty attached to wealth, the moral necessity that is laid upon them to spend it.’

I gave up my attempt to sympathetically understand the strange things he had told me, and asked how this embarrassingly great success of the mining industry in the Coromandel Peninsula had been brought about. ■ I think when you went away they were still poking about in the Bunker’s Hill mine, searching for their lost leader ? ’ he asked. ‘Yes. and they found it at last?’ I asked, eagerly, for Bunker’s Hill had led me to a comprehension of that sickening of the heart which comes from hope deferred. ‘ Yes, but it was the development of the deep levels in the Thames mines that led Bunker's Hill to find its leader, and such a leader! A leader that lias led its shareholders to the pinnacle of wealth at one stride. In sinking a shaft at a very low level in the old Queen of Beauty mine, they came upon what had been, in its molten state, a river of gold of exceedingly large volume. Further ’’nvestigations proved that this huge solidified river of the precious metal ran through the whole length of the Coromandel Peninsula, from Cape Colville to the Te Arolia ranges, and that it took such happy twists and turns in its course that it did not fail to pass through all the mining properties in which anybody, or anybody’s friends, were interested. When I tell you that in this river of gold there is enough metal to supply not only all the mints and jewellers’ shops of the world for many years to come, but also to furnish missionary enterprises with armlets and anklets for the poor benighted heathens of those countries in which jewellers’ shops are unknown —when I tell you this you will understand the power that has been at work, during the past five years, to raise Auckland into a city of its present enormous dimensions and noble aspect.’ ‘lt has Jgrown, then, since I left for—Paraguay, I think you said it was ?’ ‘ From the summit of Mount Eden, the eye now looks down upon a vast concourse of magnificent streets radiating for miles in every direction,’ he went on, in the tone of one reading from a guide book. ‘ Our public buildings are the admiration of the universe, and Auckland’s right to be regarded as the premier city of the colony is not disputed now, even by Wellington. In grateful recognition of what the mines have done for our beautiful city, we have named our principal new streets after them, and I may say that in the two hemispheres there are few thoroughfares to compete with Bunker's Hill Avenue or Waitekauri No. 2 Street.’ ’ I suppose the rest of the colony has benefited by the prosperity of this part of it ?’ I asked. ‘We are generous here in the North,’ he replied, ‘ and as we rose we ungrudgingly pulled the rest of New Zealand up with us.’ ‘ I daresay this wonderful prosperity has enabled the Bank of New Zealand to get on its legs again ?’ I inquired innocently. He frowned severely. ‘lt is considered a breach of public and private decorum to mention that Bank in this colony.’ ‘ But I should like to know what came of that inquiry that was going on when I went away,’ I persisted. I My lips are sealed,’ he said severely. ■ Rash man '. seek not to wrench from me dark secrets that you will be happier for not knowing. Tell me, are you a shareholder ?' I answered sadly in the affirmative. Whereupon he shrieked aloud and ran away. I started to run after him, but my foot slipped on the kerb, and I fell, with a great crash of fire-irons in my ears. I opened my eyes to find myself partly fallen into the fireplace in my own little study. I was much chagrined to find that I had been only dreaming, and that the mines had yet to make the prosperity of their shareholders and of Auckland.