After Dinner Gossip and Echoes of the Week.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue IX, 27 February 1904, Page 16

After Dinner Gossip and Echoes of the Week.

■alt Water Bath* Wanted. <Those who enjoy a salt water dip must have sympathised very much with the deputation which waited on the Auckland City Council the other night and prayed that sea water instead of fresh might be used in the Albert-street baths. There is no comparison between the pleasure to be derived from a salt water and a fresh water bathe. Although very fond of a morning swim, I would rather forego it altogether than frequent Al-bert-street, and there are dozens more of the same mind. Apart from the “deadness’’ of a fresh water swim, these baths cannot, of course, be emptied and refilled so frequently as is the case where sea water, of which there is no limit, is used, and why the City Council should continue to lose revenue by refusing to meet the wishes of bathers is more than 1 can tell. We certainly have sea baths, but they are in a most inaccessible spot, and, moreover, are out of date as regards appointments. I never go to Wellington without casting envious eyes on their pretty Thorndon baths, jutting out into the harbour from the picturesque Esplanade. Why • annot we have a similar place somewhere on the Waitemata? Our climate is much more suited to natation than that of the windy city, but we have to put up with an old-fashioned out of 'the way building and another yilace which might be made most popular, but is now frequented by comparatively few owing to the short-sight-ed policy of the municipal authorities. .Although the Council are responsible in this matter, the whole blame does not rest with them. If our swimming clubs «uid enthusiasts would only grasp the ♦situation properly, they would agitata till something was done to remedy the present undesirable state of affairs. Our city fathers have quite as much (some people say more) as they can attend to, and it is pnly natural that they may be inclined to let slide those things not intimately connected with streets and striking rates. They- want to be reminded now and again about such things as publicbaths, and if they be not the bathers will only- have themselves to blame. 4> <&■ <l> Concerning tire Law and Suicide. From one end of the colony to the other, and amongst all classes of thoughtful men and women, the line taken last week by an Auckland Stipendiary Magistrate with regard to a recent case of attempted suicide of a particularly deliberate and determined nature, will be regarded with genuine relief and commendation. Cases of suicide and attempted suicide are, as the Magistrate remarked. becoming shockingly common in Auckland (and lie might have included the rest of the colony) and his refusal to discharge the prisoner after a perfunctory reading of the charge and a pleading of guilty, as Las been the custom for so many years, will probably have useful remits. At all events it will bring matters to a head. As most people know, the present position of the law in dealing wii’n th -se cases is both futile and farcical. The party is brought into Court sometimes looking ashamed, but wswally with an air of conscious vanity as oomeoiic who has done something daring, and rather to be admired than reprobated, and is released on promising not to <U> it again, and making due recognisances with regard thereto. There is provision for punishment up to two years’ imprisonment, but the course universally observed during our lifetime has tieen that the would-be suicide has suffered enough, ami that he of

she should be let go free without fur- . ther punishment. On this point one will have something to say later, but it is first of all of importance to point out that this argument is to be sternly combated, because in reality it springs from the growing tendency to cease to regard suicide as a crime. “Why punish the poor creature further, after all he harmed no one but himself, and if he liked to try and end his life, why after all is it a crime ? That is the modern way of looking at it, and it will be interesting indeed to see what is the decision of the judge of the Supreme Court in the matter. Either he must tell us that attempted suicide is no longer viewed as a crime in the law of the land, or he must emphasise to the contrary by awarding such a sentence as may be calculated to act as a deterrent in similar cases. One must not presume to suggest what should be the judgment of the learned judge, but the alarming increase in the number of suicides in so young a country as this must make every one anxious to see that the tendency to condone the crime, both from a religious and social standpoint, should be met by a reaction to a higher and healthier point of view. Suicide is almost always selfish, cowardly, and indefensible. and the sooner we make this felt by both the written and the unwritten law the better for the moral health of our people. Nothing is more indicative of degeneracy in a people than a common eondonement of felo de se and attempts to make it appear venial or legitimate. We know- the sorry state certain sections of society have reached in the States wit a regard to this question, and surely it would be a bad day for New Zealand if we ever sunk so low as to have our Euieide Clubs here. The danger is not one to work up an alarm about, it is not pressing, but it is in existence, and it ’* be combated. 4’ 4> 4’ Onr Cheerless Schools. A recent visitors from Fiji, Mr. Eastgate, Stipendiary Magistrate, has been telling a newspaper reporter how marked he found the difference between New Zealand publie school playgrounds and those of the sunny islands from which lie has just arrived. And well he might be. Anyone who has seen the charming little two-storeyed school at Levuka, with its bright and attractive grounds, and compared it with, say, the public seminary in Wellesley street, must admit that they manage these things better in the colony which Mr. Seddon was so anxious to absorb. The different influences on the children, though secret and unconscious, must be incalculable—• one for good, and the other for bad, decidedly bad. Although the public school children in the colonies enjoy a full measure of holidays, the time spent by the rising generation within the precincts of the State school is considerable, and during that time characters are often made or marred. The powers that be don’t appear to fully grasp the fact that the education of a child is not confined to the things one finds in the syllabus. A child is wonderfully sensitive to environment. The average boy does not banker after school at the best of times, and judging from one’s own knowledge of colonial schools a great deal more could be done to make that period of young New Zealand's life more happy than it is now. The best of our city schools is a dreary place. Take Clyde Quay school in Wellington or Wellesley street in Auckland as examples, and ask yourself what is there elevating or inspiring in their surroundings? Uninviting playgrounds and dismal interiors must have a marked influence on the juvenile mind which, if it be not “marble to retain,” is yet “wax to receive,’’ and these early impressions

sink deeper than many of us think. We want a little more of the spirit of Ruskin in our system of education. Some masters and committees realise the splendid opportunities they have thrown in their way, and do what they can to make their schools and grounds something more than places where dry lessons are repeated in an environment which often makes a man look back at this portion of his life with anything but pleasure. Mount Eden and Pakuranga schools, in the Auckland district, a pretty little school just out of Gisborne (whose name has escaped me), and several more that I have in my mind’s eye are examples of what these State institutions sliould be. Bright flowers, in neat beds, don’t interfere with the syllabus (which is becoming quite a fetish with us), and they, together with interesting pictures on ths school walls, have a refining influence on the children whom we force to attend our State schools. A love of the beautiful is quite as important as euclid, and even if the colonial scholar has exceptional facilities for attaining a knowledge of the latter, I am afraid a good deal more might be done in inculcating the former. 4» 4? American v. Colonial Journalism. A week or so baek the assertion was made in these columns that the larger daily and weekly papers of this colony and Australia compare not unfavourably with the best production of the British metropolis, and are superior to the provincial, the Continental and American press. As is, if one had thought about it, only natural, and, indeed, inevitable, this assertion has as far as America is concerned, brought me in half a score or more of indignant letters pointing out that to compare any papers in the world to those of America is absurd, since they are beyond comparison, “hors, eoncours,” as they put it at the Parisexhibitions, and admittedly the largest, smartest, and mqst amazing productions in the world. Tq part of this indictment one must plead guilty. It was rather stupid to include the American press in any comparison whatsoever, for it does stand alone, and it is indeed amazing. But here one must stop; and the reasons for these admissions are probably not those which will satisfy the admirers of American journalism. The American daily and weekly papers are assuredly, generally speaking, “amazing”— they are amazing in the enormity of their scare lines, amazing in bulk (you get more weight for your money than in any other part of the world), amazing in eool impudence of style, amazing in personalities, and prying into the innermost privacies of life, amazing in the hustle of their reporters; but, above all amazing in dull diffusiveness, and most amazing of all in absolute inaccuracy. To compare British and colonial journalism with that of America is, therefore, absurd, because the principles which govern their production are so entirely different. Accuracy’, it would seem, has no place whatsoever in an American newspaper office; “get news, honestly if you can, but get news,” is the motto of the American reporter; and when he cannot get news he manufactures. Noys’, though inaccuracies do occur in British and colonial journals, and though certain of the most recently established and successful London dailies are prone to exaggeration and to the imitation of other American methods, yet the importance of absolute accuracy is the guiding principle of every English and colonial paper of standing. It is drilled into the tyro the first day he gets into the office as junior and insisted on all bis life. One must admit the size of the American journals; but of what do they consist? The bulk is indeed vast, but where is the advantage’lt is nothing less than astonishing thut so busy a people have time for so prodigious an amount of print. An incident which could, and should, l>c disposed of in a paragraph, is spun out with a column or more of wordy “padding,” and accompanied as like as not by an obvioualy absurd and patently inaccurate (alleged) illustration. To get at the news, therefore, one has to wade through an infinity of intolerable verbiage and conduct a winnowing process, which is os tiresome

and irritating as it should be unnecessary. No doubt those admirers of the American press who have already written to me on this subject will be further indignant at these assertions, and will possibly combat them, but the unprejudiced person who will carefully compare our journals with those of America will admit that the allegations here made can be, and are, fully substantiated. The Influence of Fiotnree on Magazine Literature. Another more pleasant and more interesting subject also arising from the same article has brought one or two letters, which are of general interest. It was pointed out that while Australia and New Zealand excelled in their daily and weekly press, and in their illustrated journals, it had to be admitted that attempts to enter the world of magazinedom had in the colonies not met with success, several attempted magazines (both illustrated and purely literary), having died almost still-born. The question put by my correspondents, though naturally differently worded, comes to this, Am I really enamoured of the English magazines of to-day, and how do they compare with those of some years back? The numbers, as we all know, have multiplied a thousandfold. In beauty of get-up, in sumptuousness of paper and printing, they are all the heart could desire, and in abundance and excellence of illustration they are amazing indeed, but as literary productions how do they compare with the older magazines, the magazines—for here is the point—before the days of illustration? The question is a nice one, and will raise discussion wherever two or three fond of reading and conversational argument are found gathered together.

Has excellence of literature kept up with the improvement in the art of illustration, or has not the enormous improvement in illustrations and the space given them in the vast majority of magazines almost destroyed literary merit? Which, after all, of the magazines of today is the most literary, and contains articles which for interest, for style and for quality rises far above its fellows? Is it not “Blackwoods?” And excellent as are “The Strand,” “The Royal,” “The Illustrated” and all those sumptuous collections of pictures and letter-press, can they compare for a moment in literature with old “Cornhill,” old “Temple Bar,” “Bentley,” “The Gentleman’s,” and other almost forgotten magazines’ The importance now given to illustration is publicly regarded as complete compensation for loss in other directions. In many of the weeklies this is even more clearly seen. When the editor of “Punch” was in New Zealand he observed to an Auckland editor with considerable asperity that the majority of persons who took up “Punch” in a New Zealand club or reading room, or spoke to him about it, looked merely at the pictures and the accompanying jokes, and never appeared to read the many columns of letterpress which, as he said, were —and are —the best and most humorous part of “Punch.” It is almost the same with the “Illustrated London News.” Do 10 per cent., do 5 per cent., of those who turn over the splendid illustrations ever read the capitally written articles within? James Payn and George Augustus Sala had their friends and admirers, but since they died I doubt if even 50 per cent. read even the once immensely popular “Echoes of the Week.” The fault lies with the public, of course. If we wanted literature publishers would supply us, but we have less time than heretofore, and less opportunity for reading. We prefer pictures with brief explanatory matter, and articles by specialists must be considered if we are to read them. It would be interesting to discuss the ultimate effect of this trend, but space will not now permit, and it must be returned to on some future occasion.