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Patron, Professor E. J. Boyd-Wilson; President, H. McCormick, LL.B. Vice-Presidents, Miss J. McGregor and R. R. T. Young; Hon. Secretary, I. L Hjorring; Hon. Treasurers, Miss M. Mackenzie and F. H. Paul. Committee: Misses O. H. Sheppard. M. M. Herrick, B.A. M. J. Clark, B.A. Messrs. J. C. Beaglehole, M.A. (Editor "Spike"), S. E. Baume (Financial Sec. "Spike"). H. L. Richardson, M.Sc, J. B. Yaldwyn, and N. G. Whiteman, B.A.
President, D. S. Smith, L.L.M. Secretary, Miss M. E. Joyce, M.A. Treasurer, Mr. S. A. Wiren, B.A., LL.M. Committee: Mrs. M. L. Hannah and Miss R. Gardner, M.A. Messrs. G, G. G. Watson, M.A., LL.B., G. F. Dixon, A. Fair LL.B., and S. Eichelbaum, M.A., LL.B.
President, Mr. G. G. G. Watson; Vice-Presidents, Mr. H. G. Miller (Chairman), Mr. J. W. G. Davidson (Vice-Chairman); Secretary, Mr. H. A. Heron; Treasurer, Mr. W. P. Rollings. Committee: Miss R. Gardner, Messrs. R. M. Campbell and J. B. Yaldwyn. Auditor, Mr. S. C. W. Watkins.
President, Prof. Hunter; Vice-President, R. M. Campbell, LL.B. Hon. See-and Treas., R. F. Fortune, B.A.; Committee: Misses A. Madeley, R. Gardner, M.A., M. Clark, B.A., Messrs. J. C. Beaglehole, M.A., and J. W. G. Davidson.
President, J. C. McCaw; Vice-Presidents, Miss F. A. Bell, J. T. Steele; Sec-retaries, Miss M. Mackenzie, W. P. Rollings; Recording Secretary, Miss R. Sheat, B.A.; Treasurers, Miss M. J. Clark, B.A., G. R. Powles; T.C. Representatives, Miss M. Lamb, A. W. Lawn.
Patrons, Professors Sommerville and Florance; President, Mr. M. McWilliams;
Vice-President, Miss T. C. Marwick; Secretary and Treasurer, Mr.
H. J. Haigh; Committee. Messrs. W. L. Harrison and L. Shotlander.
President, Professor Florance; Chairman, Mr. A. Fair, LL.B. Hon. Secretary, Mr. A. W. Free; Hon. Treasurer, Mr. J. B. Yaldwyn. Committee: Mrs. Fair, Miss T. Baldwin, Miss M. Cooley, Messrs. E. Evans, J. F. Gavin, S. Baume.
Chairman, E. C. Wiren; Hon. Secretary, T C. Frazer; Hon. Treasurer, P. M. Brooker. Committee: J. R. Lockie, W. C. Kohn, A. Lawn, W. Goodwin.
Club Captain, Mr. H. McCormick; Secretary, Mr. L. A. Tracy; Treasurer, Mr. C. W. Davies. Committee: Messrs. H. G. Whitehead and F. S. Hill.
President, Prof. F. P. Wilson; Vice-President, Mr. C. G. S. Ellis; Hon. Secretary, Mr. C. E. Scott; Hon. Treasurer, Mr. N. G. Whiteman. Committee: Misses R. Gardner, E. Madeley, and O. Sheppard; Messrs. D. F. Stuart, Blathwayt and Young. Hon. Auditor, Mr. F. H. Haigh.
President, Prof. Boyd-Wilson; Chairman, J. Tattersall; Secretary, L. Richardson; Treasurer,
President, Mr. A. E. Caddick; Vice-Presidents, Professors Tennant, Murphy, Adamson, and Boyd-Wilson, Messrs. P. Woods, D. R. Hoggard, J. D. Brosnahan, J. Heenan, J. D. Hutchison, Geo. Lusk; Chairman, J. Nancarrow; Vice-Chairman, R. R. T. Young; Secretary and Treasurer, C. E. H. Ball. Committee: Messrs. Hayes, Coningham, Gardiner, and Baume.
Patron, Prof. Boyd-Wilson; President, Prof. B. E. Murphy; Vice-Presidents, Profs. T. A. Hunter, Adamson, Sommerville, Drs. Thomson, McEvedy, Gilmer. Messrs. A, E. Caddick, E. R. Lomas, P. J. Ryan, A. S. Faire, Arthur Fair, H. F. O'Leary, C. M. Malfroy, G. G. Watson, W. Perry, S. Eichelbaum, G. G. Aitken, J. N. Millard, E. Williams; Club Captain, Mr. W. H. Stainton; Deputy Club Captain, Mr. A. D. McRae; Hon. Secretary, Mr. C. Mackenzie; Hon. Treasurer, Mr. J. O. J. Malfroy; Hon. Auditor, Mr. S. A. Wiren; Non-Players on Committee, Messrs. J. L. Dighton and E. Williams; Delegates to Rugby Union, Messrs. A. Jackson, E. Williams, and A. D. McRae; Delegate to N.Z.U.R.F.C., Mr. A. Jackson.
President, Mr. W. J. H. Haase; Deputy-President, Mr. E. W. Mills; Secretary and Treasurer, Mr. J. B. Yaldwyn. Committee; Messrs. A. W. Free and R. R. T. Young.
Patrons, Mrs. Hall, Mrs. Sommerville, Mrs. Murphy; Captain, Miss R. Gardner; Vice-Captain, Miss P. Neale; Treasurer, Miss D. Crumpton; Secretary, Miss W. Downes. Committee: Misses O. Sheppard, D. Fox, D. Pillar.
Chairman, Prof. Tennant; Vice-Chairman, Mr. H. G. Miller, M.A.; Hon. Secretary, R. F. Fortune, B.A. Hon. Treasurer, S. E. Baume. Committee: Miss R. Sheat, B.A., Miss E. Wilson, M.A., Miss E. Sewell, B.A., Miss J. Mc-Gregor, R. M. Campbell, LL.B., J. C. Beaglehole, M.A., J. C. McCaw, A. Lawn. F. A. Ruck, L. Shotlander. Hon. Auditor, A. H. Ivory.
Secretary and Organiser, J. W. Davidson; Treasurer, Miss L. H. Wingfield. Committee: R. M. Campbell, LL.B., and J. T. V. Steele.
Editor, J. C. Beaglehole, M.A.; Sub-Editors, Miss M. J. Clark, B.A., S. E. Baume, and R. F. Fortune, B.A.; Financial Secretary, S. E. Baume.
Travelling Scholar in French.
Senior University Scholar.
Jacob Joseph Scholar.
The Editorial Committee invites contributions, either in prose or verse, on any subject of general interest, from students or officials connected with the College. All literary communications should be addressed to The Editor, Victoria University College, Wellington. Subscriptions are now due, and are payable to Mr. S. E. Baume, Financial Secretary.
It was one of those blue, expansive days we get sometimes, even in Wellington; there was not a cloud in the sky, save that over the estuary of the Hutt, and again above Mount Matthews, two little wisps of delicate gossamer floated passively, stationary—treading water, as it were, in the illimitable depths that surrounded and underlaid them. From the Wireless hill, where I stood, the morning sun sparkled with a cheerful vigour on the flat harbour, that in peace and colour seemed to reflect the opposing deeps above it. The two islands stood in it like an emerald and a topaz; out beyond the Heads the bays were marked by a line of lazy cream all along their margin, and then the level sea stretched away again, past the other island, straight to the remote fastnesses and haunted caverns of the ice-smitten south. My thoughts followed it, and then back to the familiar scene below me. There was a faint haze over the Tararuas, but from there right round the harbour the hills leapt up sharp and clear, ancient citadels, stark and ungracious, but still in that morning light suffused with something of the stuff of beauty. There was, for a wonder, hardly any wind on top of my hill; what there was served but to bend the short grasses at my feet and send an occasional faint sigh through the topmost girders of the great steel tower that loomed above.
I sat down on a rock, and gazed below and around. Even the dirty town seemed to carry less than its usual load of ugliness, while the yellow roads and deep valleys behind looked as though they might lead the traveller to lands of unimagined mystery and loveliness. In a moment I turned again to my book, that short, most finely-written testament of the modern Stoic:
The troubles of our proud and angry dust Are from eternity, and shall not fail.
I read, and fell into a muse whether it were indeed so. A
His lips parted and he spoke in a very musical tone. "It is a good doctrine," he said, as he glanced at the book. "The immortal gods themselves can do no less than admit that; for they, too, are in the eternal flux."
"It does seem one of our few certainties," I rejoined, rather surprised at the ease of my conversation with one so far removed from myself in station; "and yet—"
He looked up interrogatively and smiled. "You have a human disbelief in the certainties," he said. "Yet I believe your poet is right; we struggle and cry, but the universe will have its way. We can but seek wisdom, for at least the gracious Minerva will never desert us, and give to Nature that allegiance which her laws require."
"I was going to say," I said, I "that nevertheless one very often meets the irresistible temptation to curse ' whatever brute and blackguard made the world.' Unphilosophical it may be; but, as you say, it is human."
He smiled again. "It is human, but it is not wise," he said. "And wisdom can give us one of our few comforts in this scene."
"Sapientia magis auro desideranda," I said softly to myself.
"What is that?" he said. "I seem to know the Roman tongue, though your pronunciation is, if I may say so, barbarous."
"It is the motto of our University here," I answered, "the words of an old philosopher (though not of Hellas)—' Wisdom is more to be desired than gold, yea, than much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.' Even thus far from the birth-place of knowledge, you see, we tend the sacred flame."
"It is a good thing to do in any land," he said gravely. "And your University—is it old and beautiful like those of other lands 1 have visited?"
"It is not very beautiful," I said, "for a home of learning; yet the true University, which is not a thing of stones and mortar, but of the spirit, has a great beauty in the hearts and minds of those that love it. Nor is it old, except with the age of ancient learning; in fact," I said, with something like the shame of a parvenu in the presence of one so august, himself the peer of Minerva, "it has but twenty-five years, and this very month we have celebrated our Silver Jubilee."
"That is no matter," he said. "It is not good to lose the virtues of youth. Plato was young once, and the groves of Academe . . . Yes, even the immortal gods were young. And in youth all things are possible "
I meditated on this for some time beneath the gaze of those clear eyes, and a good many thoughts chased themselves through my brain. At last I opened my mouth, and I regret to say that I harangued Apollo. Yes—harangued is the word: I harangued a god.
"Well, the fact is," I said. "I don't know. Are all things
He seemed to be about to speak, but I rudely pressed on.
"Let's get away from metaphysics. It all boils down to this—here's our University, the first thing in our minds to-day. "What's it doing, what's its aim, what is its ultimate purpose in life? Perhaps you, being a particularly distinguished god, god of the Arts, in fact (of which we produce so many Masters), may be able to throw some light on the question." (Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment I didn't give him much of a chance to do so.) "We have our little Jubilee—a nice little function, with lunches and speeches and so forth; we abound in pious sentiments, and say over and over again: ' Sapientia magis auro desideranda.' But do we really mean it all? We think with pride of our successful students, but what do we mean by l successful'? We unveil our coloured windows and shake hands all round, but do we really give a damn for what it symbolises? Is this twenty-five year mark, the merest chip, the infinitely small sawdust speck of an eternity of learning, just another event, as meaningless and unpremeditated in the scheme of things as a murder in a back street? Sub specie aeternitatis, I suppose it is: we and all our learning are a wisp of dust that some unnoticing Eternal will blow away in due time, and that not long; we are in space, quite alarmingly inconspicuous in a million of years—what does Hardy say?
'So the Will heaves through Space and moulds the times With mortals for its fingers.'
Very comforting for the mortals—to be part of a heave! Or is there anything in the heave after all? May not our twenty-five years, so utterly laughable in its insignificance, have a positive value? It all depends how you regard it, I suppose.
"I want to get down to fundamentals, but here I am, always flying up in the air again." (Really, that god's patience was remarkable.) "It all depends how you regard it—it all depends on our attitude. What are we getting at? For instance, I've heard it said, and, mark you, by a University student, that some of our speeches in debates and so on are in very bad taste. Very Bad Taste? What have we to do with taste? As if the very existence of a University in a world constituted like this were not itself a simply colossal piece of bad taste! The idea of it! To set up truth, sincerity, wisdom, beauty, kindliness as ideals to be searched for and practised in a world veiled with insincerities, compounded of half-truths, foolishness, ugliness and human inhumanity. To discharge our popgun of reason at the embattled front of Success! A University—what is it but a rude gesture by a bad little boy, fingers at nose, in the horrified face of an indubitably respectable Universe? Is not this the sin against the Holy Ghost of our civilisation, whereat large-footed policemen shudder? And yet they talk, quite solemnly (I assure you), with an assured and evangelistic excellence, of Bad Taste!
"And that admirably-conducted Jubilee! I recur to it as to a lodestone. Did it merely signify the triumph of an impeccable Good Taste, the apotheosis of successful Law under the benign
"And yet I have heard it said (to recur to the subject of taste and speech again) that we should really bridle our tongues in certain connections; it is known for a fact (it is said) that . our College has, on many occasions, lost gifts of a quite appreciable amount on account of that embarrassing habit of opening our mouth and putting our foot in it. I admit that there is such a thing as seeing red on every possible occasion; we may, being young (like Plato once and his joyous comrades) charge with excessive trumpeting, with somewhat too savagely awe-inspiring an air, some hallowed fallacy—(though after all what does it matter?) but, as the President of the Debating Society has recently said, let us hold fast to that which Ave believe to be of the verities, and fight for it staunchly, with unabated and unappeased vigour. There is no question of the advantage to be gained—'sapientia'—I will not weary you by repeating the phrase. We may gain a king-dominion of the temporals, and stranded on the rock of our little dominion, see helplessly the eternals go drifting by on the rapid tide into the gloom where eyes blinded by the flash and glitter of much fine gold may not follow.
"We are even now in some danger. There is a little matter of a huge controversy over the principles of Extravaganza composition and criticism, extending now over two or three years—"
Apollo, to whose magnanimity it is, in retrospect, impossible not to render a homage most profound, here raised a somewhat puzzled, though withal intelligent eyebrow.
"I see the subject is foreign to you," I said, "whose august eyes have gazed never upon a spectacle less nobly moving than the sin of Oedipus or the agony of Electra; or mayhap smiled at the divine satirics of Aristophanes; and so I will not elaborate the subject. Yet let me say that even in the trivial there is an ideal, and
"As another of the Poets has also said,"Apollo remarked, "'what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?' And that is good doctrine, too."
He gazed contemplatively over the scene spread out before him. I felt rather aghast as the full realisation came back to me that the person I had been addressing with such immoderate vigour was a most admirable deity, an authentic inhabitant of Olympus. One tends to forget this sort of thing in the full flood of oratory, even while giving it a cursory recognition. The emotions are no respecters of persons. I waited in some awe for him to speak again. He was very kind.
"Our conversation," he said, "though somewhat one-sided, has not been uninteresting. Your plaint is a common one, and will endure, as it has lasted through more centuries than you have lived years. Grief passes by no man; and yet it passes.
To-day the Roman and his trouble Are ashes under Uricon.
All things must perish; but first it is possible to live. And, assuredly, though that may be no great distinction, yet neither is it any great shame."
I suddenly felt very tired of talking; the sun still shone, the sky was unmoved; and we were just about at the same stage as when we started. A profound discouragement swept over me, I turned to the Housman again.
"Here," I said, "listen to this—
Doesn't that about sum it all up?"
"Who knows?" he said. "There is flux and reflux, and the high gods themselves are caught in the swing of things. Yet what is that last verse—'The troubles of our proud and angry dust'—?
"Yes," he said, meditatively, "it is good doctrine."
He rose beside me, as noble and beautiful as a dream. A tint of gold seemed to ripple over his skin, and his hair burned with a thousand lights. He smiled, and stretched his arms towards the sky.
"It is verging on noon," he said, "and you will have business in the town, you and your poet; while I too must not stay. Yet be Assured; wisdom at least is eternal and shall not perish. And now I salute you."
I blinked at his glory, and even as I did so he left the ground, and towered high in a pillar of golden light. I followed the glittering shaft up into the blue with my eye, till it was suddenly caught into the sun, and I was dazzled. Then I, also, reflecting that I had a mile or two to go before dinner, shut my book and turned down the steep track homeward.
If there are those here tonight who have lived in Oxford, I cannot hope to satisfy them with my picture of the place. Besides, I do not purpose to dwell on the wonders, but rather on the common, every-day things and the ordinary people. Oxford, "spreading her gardens to the moonlight and whispering from her towers the last enchantments of the Middle Age," is not a complete and perfect picture. There is the picture of a thousand bicycles wheeling through the streets at noon, the roar of a hundred voices bellowing over Trinity wall, the breathless "squash" in Abdul Hamid's rooms to hear the newest crank from London, the stale smell of food that the buttery sends up to join the pungent smell of chemicals rising from the labs, beneath the Hall. These are the memories that come most often and may not be put by. And it is the Oxford of these common impressions that I would like to recover for a while longer to-night.
The City of Oxford was a centre of commerce before the University came; but in the end the city became a simple hand-maid to the Colleges. For myself, I liked the city from the first. A market town for a farming county, it provides a pleasant contrast to the "Great Smoke" which is London, 60 miles to the east. The streets are not straight, nor do the walls of the shops and houses always follow the plumbline. There is a big covered market, where the housewives buy fruit and vegetables and meat, and an open market for cattle and sheep. Your genuine Homo oxoniensis has broad speech and homely wits. From his ranks are recruited the army of scouts and porters who serve the young seekers of learning within the College wall. Porterships often go from father to son, and in this way the College servants sometimes provide a continuity which even the Heads of House and Fellows fail to provide.
In all, there are 23 men's Colleges, with about 4,000 undergraduates. Each College is independent and self-governing—with a Head (called Master, "Warden, Dean, Provost or President) and a staff of Fellows—Lecturers—Tutors—all of them referred to as Dons. In a college of 280 undergraduates, you will find perhaps 20 dons, each man a specialist in one subject. The relations subsisting between undergraduates and dons are very interesting, and not at all like the relations between undergraduate and Lecturer in New Zealand. On the whole, it is safe to say that these relations are less formal and more intimate in Oxford than in New Zealand. In my own College—in this perhaps exceptional-it is common to call dons by their Christian names, and this in their presence. A staid New Zealander is shaken at his centre when he hears a fair-haired boy of 17 summers hail a white-haired don as Sligges; k&trembles when he himself first stiffens his sinews and summons up his blood to address an editor of Lucretius as Cyril. In a conservative place like New Zealand it simply isn't done!
I think you will be interested to know how these misused dons contrive to keep order. How is discipline enforced? And how are the high spirits of youth kept down? The answer seems to be: by giving them plenty of rein. There is a printed list of things which members of the University may not do. A man may not
The system is somewhat as follows:—Once a week a man goes to his tutor, to whom he reads an essay (his week's work), and the whole matter is argued and put into a better frame at the end. The tutor gives a new subject—and prescribes the requisite reading. At the beginning of each term a List is published by the University of all the lectures to be given during the term. Almost all lectures are open to all undergraduates. After consulting his tutor, a man picks out the lectures he wants to go to. He may or may not keep up his attendance at them—no records of attendances are kept. It must be remembered that although an undergraduate goes to his tutor only once a week by appointment, he may drop in at any time to discuss a difficulty. Lectures or study occupy the morning from 9 till 1. The afternoon is always given, to sports, and the hard workers get in an hour or two between tea and dinner, or between dinner and bed. The whole arrangement is an excellent one. In fact, it would be hard to think of any other arrangement whereby a man might work so well and enjoy himself so much. A morning's hard work—three or four hours—including perhaps a lecture; the afternoon for exercise; the evening for fraternity and argument; and two hours' work before bed—than this arrangement in such a place I can imagine no better. I ought to add that one is expected to work steadily through the vacations. A man's work is always under the general supervision of one tutor. And at the end of each term each gentleman is required to appear before the Master of the College while his tutor gives an account of his term's work.
But you would have a very imperfect idea of the life if you heard nothing of the numerous societies and clubs. These are of very different kinds, and they differ in size as well as in aim. The political clubs are large, but not so interesting as the smaller nonpolitical ones. And it is of the latter I wish to speak.
Some make their chief aim conviviality; but more often a serious aim is present. I heard of a club in one college called the Shakespeare Club. At every meeting, after private business had been despatched, the custom was for a member to move, "That the bard be not read tonight," and this motion having been carried, the meeting gave itself over to deep drinking.
The common procedure is for a few men, interested in one subject or purpose, to make themselves into a society, with a maximum membership of 12 or 20 or 30. Either the members take turns in reading an essay or the society invites outsiders to introduce a discussion. One club I was greatly interested in—called the Lotus Club. It was formed for the purpose of discussing matters of Anglo-Indian interest—not a large club, more than half its members being Indians. Meetings were held in the rooms of members—each time at a different college. Generally a speaker from outside was invited to start a discussion. Rabindra Nath Tagore on "Indian Nationalism," Major Douglas on "Corporate Credit," Bertrand Russell on "Chinese Culture;" W. B. Yeats, John Masefield, and Nicholas Vachell Lindsay reading their poetry; Father Vincent McNab on "Divorce;" Geo. Lansbury on "Socialism;" Mrs. Besant on "Theosophy;" Canon Streeter on "Psycho-Analysis;" Sir Sydney Ollivier on "British Imperialism in Africa;" Father Martinclale on "Scholastic Philosophy;" Roger Fry and Wyndham Lewis on "The New Painting"—these were a few of the speakers at this one club during my three years of membership.
Just imagine 40 or 50 youths, gathered from all the ends of the earth, crowded into a sitting-room; some sitting on chairs and tables, most of them squatting on the carpet; the air thick with smoke; all eyes on a figure reclining in one of the two armchairs that the room has—cigarette in hand, whose ash every now and then he flicks into the fire. It is a Jesuit, unfolding the Catholic plan of salvation. Or again it is a tall, straight, bearded man, standing back to the fire, while he offers a careful defence of British Imperialism in Africa. The speaker has his say, and then the subject is thrown open to the "House." Often the argument is carried into the twelfth hour, and ends in a rush to get home before midnight.
The Lotus Club was open to members of all the colleges, but each college has club's confined to its own members. Of this sort was one I belonged to—called "The Leonardo." It was made up of not more than 20 members—not more than three from any one faculty. Classics, History, Medicine, Philosophy, Physics, Theology—no subject was without a voice. Each member was expected to read one paper per year. The society met in the rooms of the members in turn. Many a delightful evening did we spend. A paper—washed down by mulled claret and coffee; a discussion soothed by tobacco; and a half-hour's turn round the quad with your chief antagonist; and then to bed.
Less formal groups are often formed by a handful of men to discuss matters of common interest. I remember a little group of Balliol men who used to meet in Bath Place—a delightful spot—in order to pool their knowledge of Kant's "Kritik of Pure Reason." Another set used to come to my room after breakfast on Sundays to talk about Tolstoy. And still another was wont to fore-gather at Mansfield, where two young dons ran a weekly discussion on Dean Inge's "Outspoken Essays."
In clubs and societies such as these it is that the best part of education is obtained.
The English undergrad. I found to be a thoroughly good fellow. I don't mean to say that I found him easy to understand. He has a set of conventions that are strange to a colonial, and a
One thing that surprised me was the widespread interest in the fine arts, and especially in music.
I think you would be surprised to observe how Oxford is pervaded by the influence of religion. In my own college attendance at chapel was not compulsory; and I don't doubt that men leave Oxford without ever having attended a chapel service. Nevertheless religion is in the air. It is a dinner-table subject; men are not afraid of it. And whether they confess and practise it, or whether they deny its truth or utility, they know something about it, and can talk of it without confusion or irritation.
I think Oxford rather plumes itself on its ability and its readiness to hear both sides of every story, and your Oxford man is careful to weigh every argument before he offers an opinion. This may be only a weak affectation, or at the worst a sort of disease of the will—(we all know the man who sees both sides of every argument so clearly that he never makes a decision at all)—but more often the habit is a result of that caution and fair-mindedness that is conspicuous in the best sort of Englishman everywhere. I have heard a story (which indeed cannot have originated in Oxford) of an old lady who said: "Cambridge men at least have opinions; Oxford men see your point!" But it is after all a national trait. This it is, I dare say, that accounts for the growth of toleration in England. Every Englishman is always bursting to have his "say" about things in general. But he is reasonable enough to admit: "Well, if I have my say, everybody else is entitled to have his say." And after everybody has said his say, caution suggests—"Well, we've all said different things, and after all there's no reason why my particular say should be any wiser than the rest."
This fair-minded and cautious temper—a defect rather than an excess of imagination, along with high spirits and a certain instinctive kindliness—these seem to be the marks of the best sort of Englishman; the possession of these making what we agree to call &"gentleman."
On the whole, as you will see, I regard Oxford as a wonderful place, and Oxford men as splendid men. Of Oxford as the "home of lost causes and forsaken beliefs, and unpopular names and impossible loyalties," I have nothing to say—except to say that perhaps there are causes that never will be won, but never cease to be worth fighting for; that there are some men blind or stupid or fanatical enough to feel that life will never be worth the living till every living man at least has access to the best thought of all the ages.
Sic transit—so passeth the glory. The first twenty-five years have gone; we stand up, as it were, altering our studious pose, and stretch ourselves; we fall on our excellent fellows' necks, we beat the festive drum, we tintinabulate (in imagination) congratulatory bells, we blow genteelly but with spirit on our very own tin trumpet. And then we subside. Twenty-five more years are to slide past, past, processional, cheerful (let us hope!) years, before we can celebrate, with due ostentation, that great jubilee, the fiftieth, the solid, substantial one, the real dinkum affair. But in the meantime the first twenty-five have been good, and good the Easter which completed them. we give an inadequate sketch of what happened on that truly auspicious occasion.
For many weeks, nay, months beforehand, an energetic committee—we can hand these bouquets round now that it's all over—under the direction of Mr. G. F. Dixon, had been hard at work, writing and wiring all over New Zealand and to the further con-fines of the known habitable globe. The clans were gathering, the pibroch sounding (metaphorically), the fiery cross flew from glen to glen, stout cohorts of the faithful assembled in city, township, and smiling country village. New Zealand's greatest lawyers threw up the biggest briefs of their careers to be there; farmers, Giants of Commerce, down to the very humblest and poorest, like you and us, dear reader, girded up their loins and made ready against the appointed day. The Committee met, quarrelled, agreed again, differed amicably, swore secretly at one another, rang one another up, interviewed People, wrote to the Council, wrote to the Professorial Board, wrote to the Governor, to the Prime Minister, to the Minister of Education, to the Chief Justice, talked to parsons, printers, and catererers; quarrelled, swore again—did all these things and many more. Reader, pause, think, consider! with what pangs is a Great Event like this brought to the birth! For you these strong-hearted men and women laboured in the heat of the day—salute them!
Enough! The last letter had been written, the last telephone had been abused, the last reporter interviewed, the last bit of propaganda written, censored, approved, and published. Easter approached—the Great Day was at hand.
Good Friday (April 18th) was the exact twenty-fifth anniversary of the first lecture given under the auspices of the newly-founded College. It was therefore adjudged a specially suitable occasion for the ceremony of unveiling the stained glass Memorial Window in the Library, which with the series of inscribed brass tablets and the stone let into the wall by the west entrance forms the permanent memorial of the part played by V.U.C. in the War. The Unveiling was carried out in a crowded Library by Sir Robert. Stout, the founder of the College, and chairman and member of the Council for many years. After the Unveiling, the list of the dead was read by the Registrar, the Last Post was sounded, and a laurel
The Window was made by Messrs. Smith and Smith, of Dunedin, to the designs of Mr. J. Ellis. It is in four panels, the middle ones being figures of Richard Coeur-de-Lion and a New Zealand soldier, the outside ones having coats-of-arms and various symbolical fragments placed at intervals. In our opinion, at least, the general effect is spoiled by the empty look of these outside panels, which leave the solid figures and masses of colour of the inside ones with very little support. It was hoped that it would be possible to reproduce the Window in colours in the Jubilee "Spike," but the hope unfortunately proved vain.
Originally plans were laid both for a luncheon and a Jubilee dinner. Difficulties of catering at Easter, however, proved insurmountable, and it was found necessary to dispense with the dinner altogether, and to hold a luncheon only on Saturday, the 19th This was done in the Concert Chamber of the Town Hall, which was crowded out, to the extent that an overflow banquet had to be held on the landing outside. The chair was occupied by Sir Francis Bell, whose remarks, though understood to be highly complimentary to V.U.C., her past, present and future, were unfortunately in-audible to everyone but those sitting in his immediate vicinity. There were many other speeches—in fact, there were far too many toasts for the amount of liquid provided to drink them in—by Professor Brown (who received what is generally described as an ovation, with musical honours), Professor Boyd-Wilson, Mr. H. H. Ostler, Mr. D. S. Smith, Mr. G. G. G. Watson; but the honours were undoubtedly carried off by Mrs. Hannah, who replied for Absent. Friends perfectly, and by Mr. Martin-Smith, who maintained in the face of all the world and its officialdom, the right of a University to free thought and free speech. It is wonderful how one or two bright spots like these cheer one up in the midst of some hours of what is, after all, the Usual Thing on occasions of this type.
On this Saturday night was held what we are credibly informed was the greatest and most completely successful concert ever held in the Gym., or, for that matter, in Wellington (some include New Zealand). This was entirely an old-timers' affair, as accommodation was limited, and the rest of the world was supposed to be weltering in blood at the Tournament boxing finals at the Town Hall. The old songs were sung by the same old people, the old friendships were renewed with the old shake of the hand; the old jests were heard from the old jesters, and the old laughter from the old victims. To the Concert succeeded dancing. Altogether a splendid, noteworthy, and indubitably excellent affair.
On Kaster Sunday afternoon there was a procession in academic -costume (the first time in Wellington?), led by Professor Brown as Vice Chancellor of the University, and the Hon. C. J. Parr, as Minister of Education and Visitor to Victoria University College, from the Town Hall down Lambton Quay to St. Paul's Pro-Cathedral, where what was supposed to be a Jubilee Service was conducted by the Venerable Archdeacon Johnson. We believe many thanks are
The service, as it turned out, was a sort of addendum to the usual Easter rejoicings, run on approved and orthodox Church of England lines. The choir of St. Paul's very kindly participated, and ran through a couple of psalms and an anthem in the usual in-coherent way. The hymns were Easter hymns. Practically the only portion of the service which bore any relation at all to the Jubilee was the reading "Let us now praise fainous men," and portion of the sermon. Now it must have seemed, to say the least, anomalous to a good many of those students, both past and present, who participated, probably on the understanding that the service would be very simple and undogmatic in form, to be confronted with what actually happened; especially in relation to the Jubilee of the freest and most undogmatic of institutions, a modern University. It has been suggested that any procession held in the future on like occasions might finish up at the University itself, an Alma Mater owning love and allegiance far more in these days than any church of a sect can do—a suggestion with which we are in cordial agreement. With this part of the celebrations, at least, we fancy a good many people must have been grievously disappointed. Of course we do not speak for everyone. Some were quite satisfied.
After the service adjournment was made to the main hall of the Girls' College, where the excellent Christian Union provided one of their inimitable social teas; a very successful, cheerful function, bar one plate of pikelets that had unfortunately missed the butter when it was shared out. A sad lack of vitamines, this. We believe, however, that on request to an indefatigable official, butter was immediately and courteously supplied. This may seem a small, 'almost trivial point, but it is on a succession of these little things that the tout ensemble, the happy effect of the social milieu, rests; therefore we mention the butter. Mr. Rishworth sang; everybody circulated, talked, ate, drank, got caught in everybody else's gown, and was generally and completely happy.
The Silver Jubilee Ball was run conjunctively with the Tournament Ball, and a very successful ball they were. The Town Hall was decorated, lights sparkled, likewise eyes; festive couples and reminiscences circulated; everything went off Just So. In fact, a Very Good Ball Indeed.
And then there was the Spike! Writing in thine own pages, O Spike, is it fit to praise thee? Even as the general Jubilee Committee worked, so worked thy committee. What meetings? what momentous decisions! What discussions with printers! what acres of proofs! what overtime! what midnight vigils! But thou wert out on time, O Spike! Thou appeared'st, and light burst on humanity. V.U.C. history was laid bare. The prosateurs prosed, the poets performed in lengths long and short, the illustra
And yet, that is not all to say. There was the tennis that went on all the time, mighty champions competing; there was the photograph taken at the Tournament on Easter Monday; there was the private visiting, those delightful little unions over morning tea; there was the excitement and the bated breath over the strike at the end; there was the good grip of the hand as one more good thing of life drew to its finish, the last ring at the 'phone, the last cheery grin from old-time brother-in-arms. So it passes. The first quarter-century is over and done with, not entirely without glory, not without the heat and dust of the conflict. So it passes. A quarter-century more before the next milestone. Well, what says the poet?
Let us get down to it.
The Otago and Canterbury teams arrived by the ferry boat from Lyttelton on Friday morning, while the Aucklanders arrived by the mid-day express the same day. The visitors were met by our Tournament Delegates (Messrs. H. McCormick and R. R. T. Young) and a small but enthusiastic band of Wikitorians, and wore quickly dispatched to their respective billets.
In the afternoon most of them attended the unveiling of the Memorial Window at Victoria College, in connection with Victoria's Silver Jubilee celebrations.
On Saturday the real work of the Tournament commenced. A civic reception was given the visiting representatives in the Town
On Sunday morning the visitors were taken for a motor-drive up the Hutt Valley, some in private cars, others in char-a-bancs; while in the afternoon many took the opportunity of attending the Silver Jubilee church service at St. Paul's Pro-Cathedral, with afternoon tea at the Girls' College afterwards.
On Monday the athletic championships were held at Athletic-Park, while in the evening the debate took place in the Town Hall.
The tennis finals were decided on Tuesday, an interruption to the proceedings taking place when Canterbury's Easter Egg, neatly dressed and painted, appeared on the scene. The annual "scrap" took place, and the egg suffered much the same fate as Humpty-Dumpty.
The Otago bun hats proved an added bone of contention, and many of them came to the same end as Canterbury's egg.
The Tournament Ball was held in the Town Hall on Tuesday night. During the evening the various cups were presented to the winning teams, and hakas were given unstintingly. The ball was a great success, and brought to a close a Tournament which will for long be remembered. The visiting representatives described it as the "best yet," and letters of congratulation were received by our delegates from the other Universities. The thanks of all are due to that willing band of "Wikitorians who did all in their power to make the Tournament such a great success.
The athletic contest was held on Easter Monday at Athletic Park, under conditions that were practically perfect. The track was in excellent condition; Wellington weather rose to the occasion, and a large number of the public turned out to see an athletic meeting which proved to be little, if any, lower than New Zealand championship standard. The standard shown may be judged from the fact that three records were equalled and two broken.
Outstanding performers for Victoria were Priestley and Tracy, each of whom put up a splendid performance. Priestley started off in the morning by winning the One-mile Championship in the very fast time of 4 mins. 31 4-5 secs., breaking Athol Hudson's record, which has stood since
The 220yds. Championship was won by Tracy (V.U.C.), with Morgan (O.U.) second. This race was run in heats, and the first heat, which was won by Tracy with Miller (A.U.C.) second, was run in 22 4-5 secs, equalling the record held jointly by Tracy and Porritt. The second heat was won by Morgan, with Leadbetter (V.U.C.) second.
The quarter-mile also went to Tracy, who again equalled the record, which has stood since
All Canterbury's points were scored by C. E. Low, who won the Ladies' Challenge Cup, with seven points, by winning the Long Jump, 440yds. Hurdles, and Putting-the-Shot Championships, and by gaining second place in the 120yds. Hurdles. His performance was a meritorious one, and did much to confirm the opinion held by some critics, that this athlete is the best Decathlon man in New Zealand.
H. D. Morgan, who gained firsts in the 100yds. and 120yds. Hurdles and seconds in the 220yds. and the 440yds. Hurdles, scored six points for Otago.
Others who performed well for Otago were J. G. Forbes, who won the Half in 2 mins. 1 2-5 secs., equalling Griffin's record; W. J. Scott, who raised the High Jump record by 3/8in.; and J. A. C. Mackenzie, who again won the Mile Walk Championship.
Once again the Relay Race fell to V.U.C, represented by C. W. Davies, L. A. Tracy, F. S. Hill, and M. Leadbetter.
As usual, the Tug-o'-war went to Otago, with Auckland runners-up.
The final points for the Athletic Challenge Shield were: Otago, 17; Victoria, 14; Canterbury, 7; and Auckland, 4.
The Tennis Championships were commenced on Saturday morning at the Wellington Club's courts, and play this year was up to the standard of previous years. Thanks to the generosity of Mr. Bates, the weather on both days was quite to order.
Victoria's team this year was stronger than for the past few years, but was too generous to its guests, with a result that we were in only one final—the Ladies' Singles. Perhaps part of our difficulty is that our players become overawed by the tennis record of their opponents. Certainly our representatives show more match fright than those of other Colleges. If we could only out-grow this deception, our team would not be handing round tea on the final day's play. Aim at experience in match play, then, all you aspirants for tennis honours next Easter.
The standard of play shown in the Men's Singles was good only in the opening rounds.
For Victoria, R. R. T. Young defeated Wilkinson (O.U.) after a long three-set game. W. P. Hollings, our second string, went down to Smyth (O.U.).
The semi-finals saw Fotheringham (A.U.C.) defeat Young after a close three-set match. Young took the first set at 8—6, but crumpled up under the Aucklander's steady bobbing in the next two sets. The set taken by Young was the only one dropped by Fotheringham during the Championship.
The lower half saw Smyth (O.U.), last year's runner-up, secure a comfortable win from Seay (C.U.C.), the holder. The Otago man was playing a hard game and made few mistakes. The final thus lay between Fotheringham and Smyth, and resulted in an unexpected victory for Auckland in straight sets. Fothering
The Men's Doubles saw Victoria retire in the opening round. Young Brothers went down to Otago's second pair.
Hollings and F. H. Paul, our second pair, put up a great match against Seay and Loughnan (C.U.C.), last year's champions, and were only defeated after a close and exciting game, the score being 6—3, 4—6, 9—7. In this match Paul made few mistakes, his work at the net being especially good.
The final, played on the Tuesday, between Seay—Loughnan (C.U.C.) and Smyth—Lusk (O.U.) produced some good tennis. Seay dominated this game and led Canterbury home in straight sets.
In the Combined Doubles, Victoria's hopes were not long lived. Playing with Miss Gardner, R. R. T, Young had a good win from Auckland's top pair—Fotheringham and Miss Mueller.
Our first string—Hollings and Miss Tracy—were disappointing in their display against Loughnan—Miss W. Partridge, Canterbury's second pair. Our pair were slow in starting, and did not take the match seriously. Thus was lost our well-founded hope of bringing the long-lost Shield, for at least part of the year, back to Victoria's unfurnished casement.
In the semi-finals, Loughnan—Miss W. Partridge (C.U.C.) beat Young—Miss Gardner, after a good three-set game.
The semi-final of the top half provided the best match of the Tournament, and play throughout this game was of a high order. Partnered by Miss E. Partridge, Seay (C.U.C.) defeated Smyth—Miss Ballantyne, Otago's top pair and last year's champions, in straight sets. In this match Seay gave a good exhibition of the combined game, and used his partner to great advantage. Miss Partridge's net work was brilliant, their team work aroused great enthusiasm, and they gained frequent applause from the large gallery present.
In the Ladies' Singles, Victoria secured her only win. In the first round Miss Gardner went out to Miss Saunders (C.U.C).
The second round saw Miss Thwaites lose to Miss Ballantyne (O.U.), and Miss Tracy had great difficulty in stalling off Miss Witherow (O.U.), only winning a long match at 11—9. In the semi-final Miss Tracy regained her form and secured a good win from Miss E. Partridge (C.U.C). The tennis in this match was very good, Miss Tracy's excursions to the net being well timed and effective. The final saw a long game between Miss Tracy and Miss Ballantyne (O.U.), last year's champion. In this match Miss Tracy held the edge throughout, but her attack was not successful until the ninth match-point had been called.
In the Ladies' Doubles, Misses Thwaites—Sheppard won through the first round, and in their next appearance had Canterbury's top pair in difficulties, not being beaten until 10—8 had been called.
Misses Madeley—Pigou, our third string, did not survive their first match.
Misses Tracy—Gardner, Victoria's leading pair, won their first match, but in the semi-final went out to Misses Sowden—Saunders (C.U.C). In this match Miss Sowden played very well at the net, developing a fast volley which continually beat our girls.
This match showed us our weakness—we have only one girl who can play net, and the formation of one up and one back will never win a 'Varsity Doubles Championship.
The final in this event saw Canterbury's representatives fight it out on the Wednesday, and resulted in a win for their second pair. This victory was mainly due to Miss Sowden's sound net work, which troubled the local pairs who met the champions earlier in this event.
Thus the Tennis Shield went to Canterbury with three wins, with V.U.C. and A.U.C. each with one win. Otago were perhaps unfortunate in not securing a win, as they were in three of the finals. We congratulate Canterbury on their performance, and know that next year, on their own courts, they will be a tough proposition.
The Basket-ball matches were played on Easter Monday morning at Kelburn Park. Only three Colleges were represented, Canterbury not entering a team. They hope to be able to do so next year, when the Tournament will be held in their home town. As the result of the draw, Auckland and Otago met, Auckland being victorious. After a short rest, the winners played Victoria College, the latter winning after a hard and even game. The play was very fast, and very exciting for the large number of people who came to see the matches. The standard of play was excellent, and from this we augur well for the future of Basketball in connection with the Easter Tournament. As the result of the matches, Victoria College holds the Shield, which has hitherto been Auckland's property.
In accordance with the Tournament rules, the annual contest for the Haslam Shield was shot off in the respective centres before Easter. V.U.C. fired the match on April 5th, and put up rather a poor performance. "Tricky Trentham," in one of her characteristic moods, succeeded in dashing our expectations of annexing the Shield by staging a strong "fishtail" wind, which carried off many an otherwise well-aimed shot.
The V.U.C. team consisted of A. Ainslie, C. G. S. Ellis, A. W. Free, F. H. Jennings, H. V. Scott, K. E. Tolhurst, J. B. Yaldwyn, and R. R. T. Youna;, and put up a total score of 554.
Auckland, aided by perfect weather, put up a brilliant score of 654, and Canterbury came second with 642.
The preliminary bouts were fought on Saturday afternoon in the Town Hall, and the finals on Saturday night.
Otago easily annexed the Shield with three wins, Victoria, Canterbury, and Auckland having one each.
The bouts were, practically without exception, willing and interesting, the Varsity men delighting the public by their pluck and desire to "mix it."
In the Bantams, Patterson, of Otago, again proved the winner, defeating Martin (C.U.C.) in the preliminary and Stubbs (A.U.C.) in the final. He took more than his share of punishment, but there was no doubt as to the correctness of the decision in his favour.
Aitken (O.U.) won the Featherweight and incidentally the
Ball (V.U.C.) fought gamely in the preliminary round, but Hughson (C.U.C.) had too much experience, and fought him to a standstill.
Aitken used a stiff straight left with great effect, and his exhibition in the final was that of a finished artist compared with the majority of the bouts.
Frean (A.U.C), who won the
Lewis (V.U.C.) was defeated in the preliminary bout by Cotter (C.U.C).
Coningham (V.U.C.) in the Welters provided our only win, but it was a close thing. Sceates, of Auckland, put up a great fight, and, in the opinion of several, deserved the decision. Coningham makes good use of a short right to the jaw, but when excited he swings from the floor, thus failing to connect in the great majority of cases.
Sceats had an easy win in his preliminary round, Petre (C.U.C.) foolishly allowing himself to be counted out.
Burroughs (C.U.C.) won the Middleweight title, outpointing Fyfe (O.U.) in the final. Although not particularly fast on his feet, Burrows can punch with either hand, and has a fair knowledge of the ring game.
McRae (V.U.C.) was very disappointing in the Heavyweight, falling easily to Leckie (O.U.) in the preliminary round. McRae showed his usual faults, leaving himself far too open—a dangerous practice when facing a man with a punch like Leckie's.
The final between Craven (C.U.C.) and Leckie provided a great fight until Leckie got a chance with his deadly right swing. After that there was no room for any further argument.
When he learns a little more about ringcraft, Leckie will be a dangerous opponent for any amateur boxer in N.Z.
The contest for the Joynt Scroll took place in the Town Hall on the evening of Easter Monday. The Mayor, Mr. R. A. Wright, M.P., occupied the chair. The first debate was not so much a contest between Canterbury and Auckland as between the united speakers and the stage managers of the gladiatorial combat behind the scenes. These benevolent gentlemen seemed to labour under the impression that the fancy of the audience was more likely to be captivated by a pleasing-medley reminiscent of a lawn-mower descending the stairs rapidly into a glasshouse at the bottom than by the serious business of the evening, namely, a consideration of the merits and deemrits of modern journalism. This idea was unfortunately delusive. The audience began to regret a wasted evening. Finally, matters came to a head. A member of the audience rose and protested. The chairman, hitherto quiescent, was stung into activity at last, and Mr. A. B. Thompson, of Auckland, the last speaker of the debate, was the first to be audible. It is high time, one would think, that University students should learn the elements of fair play. As Mr. De la Mare has pointed out, it is not generally considered sportsmanlike for the spectators to interfere with an
What we did hear of Messrs. Brassington and Field above the smashing of glass and the crackling of thorns under a pot that went withal was not very specific. They breathed suspicion at every pore, but vented no specific grievance. The papers gave the public what it wanted at best and what monied interests decided it wanted at worst. In either case the standard was not high The Auckland men spoke better than they argued. Mr. Black, leading for Auckland, wandered away into the sixteenth century, and failed to extricate himself very successfully. The press had won its freedom toilsomely, and its freedom should be respected. If the press gave the public what it wanted and the wants of the public were not ideal, reform the people first. The press would follow in due course. Mr. A. B. Thompson spoke clearly and well. and did not allow a rowdy section of the audience to daunt him. The press was not controlled by moneyed interests in New Zealand. It reproduced the voice of the people faithfully and well.
The second debate touched higher flights than the first. Mr. Campbell alone of the speakers of the evening made a good debating speech. He was specific and pointed—perhaps, as it seems in retrospect, too pointed. His reference to Mr. De la Mare's exposure of the Auckland "Star" especially was a barb that drew blood. Otago's speakers were very weak. Mr. Barrowclough ascended again to Mephclococygia with a fresh flux of generalities. The press was an educational medium. His opponents obviously intended the demolition of the press. It was a vicious and ill-meaning attack on the cause of the furtherance of knowledge. Mr. Martin-Smith failed to correct Mr. Barrowclough. Had he shown that the need was for a purified press, and advocated some practicable measure of reform, Otago's arguments would have crumbled up like a pricked balloon. He quoted Dr. Johnson's "garrets full of soldiers who have learned to rob and journalists who have learned to lie" with enjoyment, handsomely exonerated the U.S.A., and sternly refused to perform a like service for the Press. For the rest he said that every true man loved a lie; the truth was usually unpalatable. And newspapers had to consider their public and their advertisers, and conceal the naked truth sedulously. Miss Todhunter's argument had not been anticipated and forestalled by Mr. Martin-Smith. She reiterated Mr. Barrowclough's plea, What would happen without the Press? Her opposers had not shown what they were going to do about it. Apparently they intended the demolition of the press. Miss Todliunter waved a "Dominion" genially at the audience, and read a matrimonial advertisement there from to the evident delight of the judges. Otago was placed first, and Mr. Martin-Smith was ad-judged the best speaker of the evening. Victoria was given second place, with Auckland and Canterbury third and fourth. The extra-ordinary nature of this placing was amazing, not alone to the supporters of Victoria, and we are quite at a loss to account for it, at least from the inherent merits of the debate.
"They's no denyin' but what Prof. Treske takes a fine phottygraft," said Mr. Dooley, thoughtfully regarding a copy of the "Free Lance."
"Ye don't say," said Mr. Hennessy, eagerly."Let's have a look at it."
After a glance he handed the paper back." I don't see anythin' in that," he said disappointedly.
"What were ye expectin'?" asked Mr. Dooley in mild surprise. "Sompthin' classycal? I'm afraid ye'er taste has been undhermined be th' debased notions iv th' Greeks or thim pious Eyetalian fellies that lived in th' ages befure th' fashion joornals inthruded into th' field of ar-rt an' th' aisiest thin' to paint was a rosy blush. I well raymimber how ye niver cud injye a show onless th' leadin' lady an' wan hunderd per cint. iv th' chorus had calves that bulged like a publican's waist-line. An' if they happened to come on a little forgitful iv th' amount iv clothin' they wore to church on Sundahs ye'd only wink an' say it wasn't as cowld on th' stage as it was on th' beach, an' annyway they wasn't Varsity students. Ye were a Dimmycrat in thim days, Jawn, an' baylieved in lettin' th' public have what it wanted, ayven if it did have to look through its fingers sometimes at what it was gittin'. But ye'er morayle has weakened now, Jawn. Th' pitchers has took all th' fun out iv things f'r ye be lavin' nawthin' to th' imagynation. An' so ye rist .yeer jaded intellec' be attindin' ixtravaganders.
"I won't say ye're not a betther man f'r it. Ye've baycome more seeryous. Wanst ye'd almost fall over ye'erself rushin' up to th' bar to ask me if I'd heerd th' latest thin' th' Varsity byes was takin' off an' whether I'd come along an' help in th' fun ye were goin' to have at th' speshul indignation meetin' iv cittyzins called to raypudiate th' sathire. Now ye enther with th' subdued look iv a Varsity bye that's goin' up f'r his dyplomy an' wondherin' will th' Chancellor let slip what marrks he got. ' Thim kids at th' Varsity has a gr-reat games misthress all right,' says ye in a hushed v'ice. Ar-re they administherin' boot-leg to ould Toot-an'-come-in agin this year?' I asks. ' Not thim,' says ye, scornful of th' aspersions I'm ign'rintly castin' on their originality. ' They're euttin' off th' head iv Charlotte Russe this time,' says ye. 'She's a Bolshevixen, if ye want to know, Dooley,' says ye, ' an' 'twud be a thrillin' scene on'y th' curtin gits restless an' comes down befure th' hangman c'n make it reelistic. Nex' year,' says ye, ' 'twill be fine. They'll put on th' ixicution iv King Charles th' Firrust or perhaps th' buryal iv Sir Jawn Moore. But it ain't all blood an' thundher, says ye. ' There's a fine intellechooal touch given be th' girruls an' byes runnin' aroun' an wavin' balloons.' 'That's mint to riprisisint youth,' says I. ' I used to play with thim things mesilf whin I was a kid.' 'But,' says ye, ' they's plinty iv rayligion, too. Ye ought to see how howly thim byes an' girruls act in th' scene written be Father Ruck. Firrust they marreh in solemn like a lot iv clargy goin' to the dintist; thin they lift their hands to hivin; thin they all git down on their knees an' pray just like Culford Bell inspired thim." An' do they git what they pray f'r?' says I 'I'm. not sure,' says ye, but I think they make ixpinses.' Ain't that enough, Jawn? Ye know what their motto says, that things in th'
"But I'm glad they're cuttin' out th' funny stuff, Jawn. Th' on'y class iv people that c'n handle a joke safely is th' proiissors. Besides, th' amachoorish ift'orts iv th' studints wud on'y atthract th' ojum iv public attintion, an' ye know how th' Varsity byes hate that. They don't like th' public to know they're there. An' th' public rayspicts their feelin's an' devotes itself to throwin' things that can't hit thim. But supposin' th' public was suddinly to thrust its unwelcome attintion upon thim, can ye imageen th' cowld horror that wud shudder through their boosoms as th' vulgar coin iv th' light-headed prolytariat began to pour into th' vargin coffers iv th' Stud. Ass. Th' wan that wud be stricken most wud be Brother Ruck. He'd break his vow iv perpechooal silence. ' Is it f'r this,' he'd moan, 'that I've cultivated the' modist ways iv a shrinkin' vi'let? Me,' he'd say, ' that was th' firrust to discover,' he'd say, ' be prayer an' fastin',' he'd say, ' th' sacred trut' that wisdom might possibly be more than good? Take away th' demoralisin' 'rash out iv me sight,' he'd say, ' hut count it carefully,' he'd say, ' so that th' full horror iv th' siehooation can dawn on ye. An' I'll argy th' pint with ye,' he'd say, ' both ways,' he'd say, ' f'r ye put me "u me difince,' he'd say, ' whichiver side ye take.
"What makes me quail to think iv, Jawn, is th' dreadful invy that wud be stirred up in th' breasts iv th' local branch iv th' Klu Klux Klan whin they met to incite wan another at their annooai confirmee. After gnashin' their teeth an' niakin' their eyes flash as demanded be their oath iv initiation, th' devoted diligates wud over-come their varchuse indignation sufficiently to hurrl a burnin' resy-lution over th' wires. ' Havin' effechooally disposed iv th' aban-doned activities iv th' Debatin' S'ciety,' they'd move, ' we passion-ately draw th' indolint attintion iv th' Minister iv so-called Idjica-tion to th' disliel attitude iv th' Victorya Collige ixtravagandists in interin' into onfair competition with th' ifforts iv our liel organisation to provide comic raylief f'r th' people iv this onwakeful Dominion; an' we arrge upon th' said Ministhev to wake up an' suppriss th' outrageous an' immor'l propyganda aginst th' thrue inthirsts iv th' Impire conducted be means iv a studint named Wallace attirin' himself as a Bye Scout.' No, Jawn, makin' jokes ain't goin' to save th' Impire from th' nixt war that we're lookin' forward to with such inthoosiasm. Th' better-minded studints reelise th' fact, an' ar-re preparin' thimsilves be manooverin' about th' stage in costyumes coloured like th' flag iv Impire. Discipline is what th' byes is afther, Jawn, an' that's why they've illicted Prof. Tresize to th' position iv Dictator.
"Th' Prof's th' bye to put pep into th' Varsity, Jawn. He'll put his foot down on all that studint stuff that goes on up there. Wud ye believe, some of thim onrayginirate kids has niver ayven been to the Cabaret. They spind their nights instid crammin' what they call their intellects ontil they don't feel comfortable onless they're standin' on their heads. That's no good f'r progriss, Jawn. ft makes thim think th' wurrld's all wrong. What they want is to be taught how to use their feet. An' onless they immejitly put thim silves undher a theocracy they'll niver know they's anny use f'r
"Whin Brookie is injuced to tarrn his tay-room into a minachoor cabaret, thin th' revvylution'll be complete. An' it won't be th' revvylution th' timid public thinks th' Varsity byes is always planum'. 'Twill be a revvylution that will please th' public be givin' it what Prof. Theo thinks it wants.
"No, Jawn; that photygraft may not be classycal, but it's thurly symbolical. Revvylution ridin' in on Terpsichore-that's what th' pitcher means. An' 'twill be a movin' pitcher befure long."
"Who'll do th' movin'?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Th' Stud. Ass.," answered Mr. Dooley. "With its hind feet."
Gentle Spike! a word with you. About this Tramping Club of which we hear so much, which occupies so large a space on the notice boards of V.U.C. and in the lives of its doomed votaries. I want to tell the Truth about Tramping. I come to you, Spike, as the sole representative of the Free Press. Fair play all round, Spike—you have printed many extravagant eulogies, in prose and verse, of this peculiar pastime—now publish this indictment, and let the world know the truth. Magna est veritas, et praevalebit.
I have done a bit of tramping myself, and I think I know what I am talking about. I may not be a great deal of good as a practical tramper—what I mean to say is, in the matter of lighting fires in the pouring rain with a happy smile on my face, or leading a band of lunatics over pathless deserts and trackless bills for days at a stretch, or putting up tents in the dark, or frying sausages and steak simultaneously in a frying-pan much too small in the near vicinity of a tire much too hot—at all these delicate pursuits, I freely admit it, my name may be most emphatically mud; but I flatter myself that I know the underlying philosophy of the business pretty well. That is, what has hitherto been represented as its philosophy. I have read my classics. As a matter of fact, I think I may say that few trampers have the extensive acquaintance that I have with the literature of the subject—the idealistic literature, that is. I have always been fonder of literature than life—so much easier to bear. However, that is beside the immediate point. if you take your Stevenson and read his essay on Walking Tours (where, someone has said, his genius comes nearest to Hazlitt), what do you find? Wash, Spike, utter wash! Listen to this:—
"You lean from the window, your last pipe reeking whitely into the darkness, your body full of delicious pains, your mind enthroned in the seventh circle of content . . .you have had a fine moment, and looked down upon all the kingdoms of the earth. And whether it was wise or foolish, tomorrow's travel will carry you, body and mind, into some different parish of the infinite."
That, please you, describes the end of a day's tramp. Rot, all rot. What is the reality? It rains; it gets dark; you stagger over boulders and into creeks; it rains harder and the creeks get deeper; you swear like a hundred troopers, and your swag (Stevenson's "haversack," indeed!) weighs you to the ground; you finally stop and mess around with a clammy tent with numbed fingers. At about 12 midnight you at last get to sleep, and in a couple of hours some fool who has caught a later boat charges into the tent, aggressively cheerful, and puts his foot in your mouth. And as for "last pipes reeking whitely," "circles of content," "parishes of the infinite"—pah! Stevenson isn't the only one—there's Trevelyan (" I have two doctors, my left leg and my right "), Leslie Stephen, that ass Belloe, with his farrago of Rome, beer and the Faith, Walt Whitman with his barbarous sequipedalians (" I who have walked splay-footed in hobnailed boots "), John Burroughs, the smug Thoreau, Hazlitt, typical literary stuff, Jefferies. I've read 'em all. It's all Rot. And then there's those two bards, R.F.P. and J.C.B., who appear—Heaven knows how!—with such monotonous persistency in the pages of the Spike. They must be young and innocent. I doubt, from a perusal of their lines, if they have ever been on a
"And praise we now the Tramping Girl, etc., etc., etc. and bright she trims the cheerful evening fire."
Absolute typical Rot! Who ever heard of a girl messing round with the fire at all? They sit on a good dry log and eat, that's about the extent of their participation in the festivities. And hear R.F.F:—
Sounds all right; the only trouble is, it has nothing to do with actual experience. Except perhaps the part about the biting thong—the thongs (such as they are) bite all right. So does remorse once you get started. And then there's the fellow who contributes the Tramping Notes to the Spike, headed by little bits of poetry, and full of rhapsodies about waterfalls and bush and sunsets and suchlike. What's he know about it? The trouble with all these coves is, they're out of touch with reality. You can't sit at home in a comfortably appointed room, with your feet on the fender and a complacent haze enveloping your faculties, and negligently drop words of wisdom from the gold-tipped end of your elegant fountain pen. Life isn't like that. Truth is stark; you may gain in decency by casting a veil of words over the outlines of her limbs, by clamping the nerveless fingers of your dull lay figure round the drooping stalk of a drably decorative flower, and saying, "Look, this amorous shade is Romance; note the aesthetic effect of this peculiar horticultural phenomenon, the more or less white bloom of a blameless life "; but is it the fact of the matter? Give us facts. We are no Gradgrind, but give us a few facts. Tramping may be one way of passing the time for the moron-minded—why elevate it to the height of the sole occupation in a better world of the celestial hosts? Stick to the facts. True art doesn't contort itself hither and thither, like a striped python crushing the delicate white body of Truth; it is aloof, austere, simple, direct, like a Greek statute. Come away from the messy morass of mysticism, tread the hard, shapely ground of scientifically ascertained fact. Especially when you are rhapsodising on Tramping—above all, if you are a Tramper. The devil loveth a cheerful liar, but dear unto the Lord is he that walks in the way of truth. Let us see what this Tramping is; let us lay bare the bones of the business, (You may chop my little contribution around, Air. Editor, but at least let truth prevail this time, if never again.)
What is this Tramping? Let us take the case of a typical victim—a Fresher, say, callow and idealistic, who has baled a bit of the poisoned liquid from the literary bogs I have described, and who reaches V.U.C. in a flutter of eagerness to lead the true University life. What happens? He reads a notice. "Ah-um-what's this? Annual General Meeting—Tramping Club—fresh air—happy days—come one, come all—that'll do me—me for the great open spaces!" So he bowls along and knocks genteelly at the door. Is this the Tramping Club? It is. They spring on his neck and drag him in. Another sacrifice—good enough—the secretary gets him
He goes for a Sunday tramp. It's fine, for a wonder, and the real demon-walkers haven't come, as the day isn't hard enough. Girls are all right, though, thinks our young fellow—great game this tramping! And he decides to go for the next week-end. Great heavens! hold back, young man, before it is too late! Arrest your wandering feet! Throw out the life-line, somebody! La Belle Dame sans merci—!—what's the good—he's a gone-er. The fool and his folly. The Immanent Will has him in thrall. Away he goes for the week-end. Fine lot of fellows, these, thinks our Fresher, looking round at the long legs and abbreviated clothing of his companions—Prof too—great man this Prof, I'm told—makes coffee, stew, and so forth—great fund of reminiscences—I must keep close to him. Might make a few marks at French out of it, too. (Poor fool!) Typical Tramping Girls, too, he thinks—fine, upstanding, frank, joyful. What does J.C.B. say, in that Tramping sonnet of his:—
"Like Artemis who erst with long, lank limbs—"
He had an eye for beauty, all right, that J.C.B. (He little knows I He little knows!) So oft' they go, over to the Bay, along the nice hard road, up a precipice, into Gollan's Valley, up another precipice, down the other side, wade a couple of creeks, more precipices, down again, up again, down again, up again, down again—sun pours down, so does perspiration. Wish they'd stop a bit, thinks our novice, going's getting a bit hard. Feels a blister on his toe. "Steep bit this,' he says with timid insinuation to the next man. Next man eyes him cruelly. Oh, fair," he says, "you wait till we get to Orongorongo, though." Help! thinks our novice—however, mustn't give up yet. What man has done man can do. After several hours of this sun sets. Hooray! camping time, thinks he. Not on your life—we go on for a long while yet. On he goes, trailing at the rear, dead-tired, deader and deader every step; trips over roots, swag weighs him down, thongs bite his shoulders. However—at last they are there. Up go tents; fires lighted; Prof clears a space and gets to work on stew. Firelight glances in the dark, obscure moving figures, light laughter, sound of chopping. Very romantic scene this, thinks our man—stars coming out, too; sits on ground, clasps his knees, and begins to wear off that tired feeling. Prof notices him. "Oh, aren't you doing anything? Dash down the hill and get some bedding, will you?" Crumbs! this is laying it on
Why continue? They go on all day, so does the rain; bush is soaked and wraps clammy hands round everyone that passes. Supplejacks get in the way, lawyer tears at skin, creeks are swollen, and Fresher is half-drowned—but why continue? A couple of lunatics think they'll put up a record over the last six miles—you know the breed well—long, bony brutes with big feet and laughter like a sudden bray—off they go and drag in Fresher. Poor devil staggers ten yards, heart breaks—crumples up on roadside. Crawls rest of way on hands and knees, every vestige of skin taken off spine by swag. Gets home, falls on to bed, raw, bleeding, bruised, broken, raves wildly all night, and is taken away in ambulance next morning.
But what's the good? The fool is out for the next tramp that comes along. Incredible? No, highly natural. He has sold his soul to the devil; he is a doomed being. Never more will he be able to tear himself away from the stony road and the flooded creek. He is damned—he is in hell. He knows it, but can he escape? Can a lost soul escape from the sulphurstrewn plains and fiery rivers of eternity? Condemned, given over utterly, he wanders on and on-with the fierce laughter of demons forever sounding in his ears, horror clutching at his breast, and madness dancing before his eyes.
And that's the truth about Tramping,
I have had great difficulty is selecting a suitable subject on which to address you. The subjects usual on such occasions are somewhat hackneyed, and, further, I do not consider myself particularly competent to lecture on art or literature. My present subject has the advantage that, thank heaven, nobody has as yet written a book on it, and accordingly I have not had to read the opinions of others and endeavour to refute such opinions or to reconcile my own with them. I am afraid, however, that I am about to preach a sermen. If so, no doubt it will be just as unpleasant to the listener as any other sermon, but I shall hope for the usual protection of the pulpit and not expect to be cross-examined and questioned at its conclusion.
In diagnosing the ills of the student of to-day, I can claim no special qualification, being but a student of yesterday or, if you prefer it, the day before. No doubt the same ills existed in my day; but, mayhap, the secondary and more violent symptoms are now appearing.
Having no qualifications, and being, therefore, but a quack doctor, I can only hope for the same measure of success that seems to accrue usually to the quack teacher in medicine, art, religion, and education. Although my diagnosis is probably entirely wrong, perhaps it may give you as debaters fresh fuel for the controversial tires, but, please, throw the fuel on the fires after I have gone!
Candid I shall be, but I trust give no offence; certainly none is intended. I have no intention of dwelling on the estimable points and characteristics of the student of to-day. Such are self-evident. I would merely draw attention to the ills of the body student.
I propose first to look at the process which moulds the student long before he reaches the University, and to try to trace back to a very early stage in his life the ills which afflict him. I'm not going as far back as Plunket Society teaching, but only to the position where I find myself up against the educationalists who mould our youthful destinies. True it is merely the opinion of a layman-once a teacher—who saw the error of his ways and his unsuitability for that great profession. My first criticism is levelled at to-day's system of hasty education—an education the purpose of which seems to be to push the infant into a kindergarten, from the kindergarten to infant school, infant school to primary, primary to secondary, secondary to university, through each grade at lightning speed. Push! Push! Cram! Cram! Cram! Turn out a host of neatly-labelled and numbered products, proficiency winners, scholarship winners, junior scholars, matriculated students, B.A.'s, LL.B.'s—label them as quickly as possible even if you do turn out nothing but intellectual machines, the Ford car type of educated product: mass production of a cheap article—good for a particular, limited purpose, useless for any other purposes. Education in a hurry!
What should be the aim of education? As a layman I suggest
Let us go back and look at the various links in the educational chain. Take the primary school first. The ambition now appears to be to push the child out of such a school at the mature age of about 13. The useful old seventh standard, where the average child stayed until about 14, is gone. In that standard the child used to be given an opportunity to mature a little. He was able to consolidate the knowledge he had acquired before going out into life or proceeding to a different class of education. To-day he must hurry with all speed through the primary school in order to get the hall-mark of a u proficiency certificate "and so obtain a label entitling him to further doses of concentrated education in preparation for further examinations in a secondary school. Excellent that he should have that further education. But what is the nature of his further education? Is it not for the most part education (save the word!) for one of the professions or clerical work? Are Ave not to-day in our average secondary school educating a race of candidates for already overcrowded professions and candidates for the dull drudgery of clerical positions—a race of clerks? Little seems to be done in these schools to encourage the child with the ideal of service, less to inculcate the idea that he who labours with his hands is leading just as useful a life and probably a happier one than the member of a profession. The pleasure of work well done is unknown. The joy of work is a discredited ideal. Yet what can be greater than the satisfaction arising from the knowledge that one has done the job well, however menial the task? Personally, I believe the greatest pleasure in life is the joy of accomplishment—no matter what it is we have accomplished. A person holding a high judicial position in this country said recently he supposed no-body would work unless compelled to. God help us from such a stage of animal-like stagnation. In such an existence the line of demarcation between the beast and the intellectual being has vanished.
Would it not be better to spend more time in the primary and secondary stages of education? Equip the child above all to think and to derive his pleasure from thinking. Develop something more than the ability to obtain a living; develop the faculty of living. Teach the child the ideal of serving the community. Teach the child that there is nothing unworthy in work done with the hands while the brain is active- Discourage the idea 'that professional or clerical work is the hall-mark of respectability.
But what of the child when he reaches the University? Often he is little more than a child on entrance, as the result of this "education while you wait" policy. Too young probably to benefit. by ideal methods of University teaching, ill equipped in general knowledge and, worst of all, his power to think for himself dwarfed and stunted. What does the average student consider at the begin
Summarised, then, my diagnosis of the ills of the student of to-day, wrong as it may be, shows him to be the product of an educational policy of pushing and thrusting the child forward along the path not of knowledge but of bread-winning, a policy of hustle and cram, forcing the student into a University too young, keeping him there too short a time, and permitting, if not encouraging, him. to subordinate everything to qualifying, not for complete living, but for earning a living, making him a machine, not a thinker.
If that is the process producing the student of to-day, what are the symptoms of his disease? What are the results of the immaturity of the student, the brevity of his stay at College, and the disregard by the student himself in most cases of the opportunity to develop mind and character?
I leave aside the consideration of the ultimate academic attainments of such a student. I leave to the imagination the sum
total of the store of knowledge of the average graduate. Consider what is the effect on the College and the corporate life of the students. I have already indicated the danger from lack of continuity in strengthening and building up the traditions of the College, traditions which make or mar the institution. It is obvious that if only the few interest themselves in the welfare of the whole, and those few are here but for short time, the corporate life of the College will be at a low ebb Certainly those few will reap tenfold the harvest of their work. But what of the majority? Surely they lose the best part of College life. Is not the result of this neglect of the wider College life visible in all our Colleges to-day? "What percentage of the students take their share in the work of the Students' Association? How many, if they play any sport, do so for the College? How many spend a single hour in any activity connected with the College outside the lecture-room? Of those who do strive to carry on the College activities—and to whom be all praise—must we not concede that they are handicapped by the system to which I have alluded? While the majority rush madly on with the scamper for a label, can we wonder that College extravaganzas have to be produced by a professional producer, that the production must be one to depend for its success on spectacular effects rather than on any intrinsic literary merit? Can we wonder that we still sing badly the excellent old songs written by an earlier generation and produce no songs of our own, that our muse is silent, or if not silent, only mutters? Must we not confess that as the scamper becomes madder the corporate activities of the students degenerate? Take our own Debating Society, of late so much criticised. Is it not conceivable that some small part of the criticism is merited? Can we always justify our activities? As your President I always try to defend your actions when, not infrequently, I hear them criticised outside the College. I confess I sometimes find it difficult, and regard myself somewhat as advocatus diaboli. Must we not plead in mitigation that our worst offence is youthful exuberance of spirits? Take the titles of our debates. Most of them involve a debate on some current political or social problem. Excellent that such problems be discussed, but does not our youthful love of mischief, our youthful desire to make people jump, cause us unnecessarily to give offence? May it not be that by reason of our joyous carelessness we unnecessarily defy the conventions, merely to have the pleasure of smiling, Puck-like, at the horror of our elders? Are we not in our youth too apt to pose and strike attitudes, to put ourselves on a high perch and crow lustily. All pardonable traits in youthful character, but far better for the institution that a little self-repression be exercised. If all are sincere in their expressions of opinion, if those expressions are the genuine result of careful thought and study, if they are free of any blatant desire to attract attention, devoid of humbug, are something more than popular hot air, then your critics are disarmed, your expressions of opinion are unobjectionable. But let us be sure of our facts, careful in our thought process, and, above all, sincere in our purpose and free of ulterior personal motives before we put ourselves, Bernard Shaw-like, on a pedestal, and seek with the vigour of youth to convert the other few millions of our fellow inhabitants of the earth to our particular fads and cranks of the moment. Let us at least be sure that we have something more solid than an attractive fallacy to offer the world before we insist on ramming it
Finally, lest I be regarded as merely preaching a shallow, hypercritical sermon, may I offer some suggestions as to how the student of to-day may outdo the student of yesterday, and, while helping his College, help himself. In the first place, why not determine to take a little more time over your University course? I fully appreciate the economic urge that drives many relentlessly forward; but if the sacrifice is possible, then the result will justify it. An extra year at the College will at least give you time to equip yourselves better for the material aim of earning a living. Better, it will give you time to browse among books, to develop your mind, to acquire an education instead of an equipment. Best of all, it will give you time to take your fair share in the general activities of College life. The corporate life of the College should be able to do more for you than all the professors and lecturers put together. It will give you the opportunity to live in a University atmosphere partly of your own creating, to exchange ideas and ideals with your fellows instead of being merely selfish, narrow-minded pupils of a night school.
I realise that in the absence of residential colleges the ideal is one difficult of full achievement; surely not impossible of partial realisation. The provision of a residential college in the College precincts, owned and controlled by the College, is perhaps the most clamant need of the University today. Maybe there is scope for your activities in bringing about such a provision. Certainly it won't be obtained without effort. Why not consider how you can-assist? Why not organise for that purpose and see if ways and (means cannot be devised for assisting the authorities in clamouring and working for such a boon?
While, however, the residential college is non-existent, I suggest you throw yourself wholeheartedly into all the student activities of the day—the Students' Association (which should be the very soul of the College), football, tennis, cricket—whatever be your sport, play it with the College for the College. Football, for example, can do much for the College for good or harm. If, in spite of all the handicaps of a College team—exams., vacations, the short period of membership of a College Club—the team could, instead of being merely an annual surprise packet, head the championship for a season, playing, as it has always, a clean and skilful game, the interest of a public whose god is sport would be quickened. A college flourishes or languishes according' to the measure of public support and sympathy it has. Again, with your debating, how few take advantage of your opportunities? Personally, I regard an active part in debating at College just as useful, if not more so. to a student as any single bread-and-butter subject.
I ask your pardon if in my attempt to analyse the ills of the student I have myself fallen into the blatancy of ignorance and the positive assertion of youth.
In conclusion, I remind you that I have spoken of the average student only, and I realise there are many to whom my remarks have no application. Whether I be right or wrong, I have tried to convey sincere views formed as the result of much observation during past years.
Capping has become very attenuated nowadays; it may, indeed, be made a mere note. Capping in
This interesting survival of the prehistoric past took place in the Town Hall on Friday, May 9, at (approx.) 3.30 p.m. The graduates this year were placed in the choir seats with the object of getting the rowdy element of the audience under the eye of Authority. Mr. Clement "Watson, acting for the Chairman of the College Council, made the usual inaudible speech, being cut off promptly after five minutes by the aforesaid rowdy element. Professor Brown got well on his way in an excellent speech, but defeated the a. r. e. by stopping at 4 mins. 55 secs. The graduates then filed past and shook hands with Professor Brown, who as Vice-Chancellor conferred the degrees. The function then ceased. We do not know who was responsible for the shame and scandal of totally ignoring the College Songs, which were printed on the programme—what might have been done was shown by the way in which "Just One Stave More" was sung by the students after the ceremony was over. There was absolutely no excuse for closing down the proceedings in the abrupt, bad-tempered way that was done; it was an exceptionally orderly Capping—there was noise, but it was well organised, and both speeches were given a fair run and dead silence. Authority threatened to throw up the ceremony during the reading of the graduates' names, and for this likewise there was no excuse. The only explanation seems to be that Authority had a very bad fit of panic at a peculiarly inopportune time.
This was held in the Town Hall the same night, very well organised by a committee under Mr. H. L. Richardson. The decorations were those used for the Fleet Ball previously in the same week. Supper excellent. Partners ideal. Walk home afterwards divine. A great night.
The graduates of the year were entertained to a very cheerful social evening by the Graduates and Past Students' Association in the Pioneer Club rooms on the evening of May 8—an excellent variant on the customary luncheon, leaving as it did sufficient time on the Great Day to get oneself sufficiently well-groomed and be-gowned with an absence of that breathless rush generally so characteristic of the occasion. Miss Pigou sang very well, Miss Thyra Baldwin recited, Miss Frances and Miss Eudora Henry played the violin and piano, and Miss Clachan accompanied the singers. Professor Kirk, in hailing the new graduates, dispensed some characteristic words of wisdom and of cheer; and Mr. D. S. Smith, as President of the Graduates and Past Students' Association, invited them all very seductively into the fold. Supper and the Final Chorus concluded the evening's work.
The undergrads.' supper straggled in in the rear of a scattered bunch of Capping festivities—"last, loneliest, exquisite, apart," as Rudyard Kipling lied generously in another connection. The lions of the evening ranged themselves at the long table that Messrs. Gamble and Creed had thoughtfully provided. We others disposed ourselves variously about the room. Jules Malfroy fell upon the floor, the rest of us upon the salad and cakes. The King was drunk. So was the College. But before the latter toast could be honoured Mr. J. Nicholls vented a grievance. He had entered Victoria College in all innocence. He had found the place given up to learning. He felt like John Bunyan's Christian in Doubting Castle (if they knew what he meant) with Professor Despair for overlord. Could not something be done about it? Had his audience read Tennyson's "Princess"? There was an education now. What? They had not read it! Very well, had they been to Miss Baber's? There should be more social intercourse, amicitia magis sapientia, a Chair of Social Intercourse. Mr. Nicholl's vision of the future faded. Mr. Yaldwyn took up the cudgels, and proposed the Profs. What would the College be without them? Utopia. Eden, yes Eden. Personally, he liked them very well privately, but publicly—no. They were one of the afflictions due to the Pall. Professor Boyd-Wilson defended the Profs. Without them there would be no students, none at all. He had degrees of affection for students. Footballers and trampers lay nearest his heart. He proceeded to draw a ground plan of his heart. Mr. Lockie rose to propose the toast of the graduates. He also had a heart. Those who scraped through degrees were nearest his. Mr. Byrne thanked the under-graduates on behalf of the graduates. He exhorted his fellow-graduates to join the Graduates' Association. Yes, he had joined himself. Mr. Baume Avound up the proceedings Avith an announcement that the lower room would be available for dancing until 11.30 p.m. The usual solicitude for the King's salvation was expressed feelingly, and the assembly dispersed to the shrines of Morpheus and Terpichore variously. Mr. Baume and an efficient committee saw that the proceedings ran smoothly, and Mr. L. Daniells and Miss Pigou enlivened the tedium tunefully.
The greatest extravaganzas in the history of humanity are immortal. The father of the extravaganza, at his height in "The Acharnians" and "The Birds," has outworn the stage, though not the study; the greatest English production, "The Beggar's Opera," intensely topical as it was, has lasted to our own time. It is true that in the case of Gay's play even a close study of the history of the time could not bring us much nearer to appreciation, because though we knew ever so much of the love affairs of Miss Skerrett or the politics of Walpole, we could not recapture the mental attitude of the time towards them. The appeal of "The Beggar's Opera," on revival, I hazard, was in the main due to its quaintness, its old songs, the wit that outlives two hundred years, and its perfection in presentation.
In the case of this year's extravaganza we had production first, last, and all the time. Always the producer's hand was apparent, always the really well-judged handling of the performers by Mr. Trezise made one forget what they were there to represent. The author afforded the producer opportunities, of course, but he did nothing more. The theme was slender, badly thought out, and wholly poor philosophy. It was youth's plea for youth, no doubt, but its muddled intent was not made any clearer by a muddled preface. The solution propounded was no solution. It would need more than the piping of a gilded Pan and the dancing of a sylvan chorus to a latter-day and wholly sophisticated air to convince the critical that the moment had come for the proclamation:
God's in His heaven, all's right with the world.
Mr. Byrne, in fact, has tilted at the nature of things, and his shattered lance has no whit rocked the existing order. He was obviously very serious about his subject, so serious that he had to drag in so-called "comic relief" by the heels in a manner which made it appear both unnecessary and inartistic. He gave us no humour of situation and little of dialogue, and he was singularly ill-served by a caste almost entirely lacking in a sense of the comic. But he has a very real dramatic sense, an ability to visualise the possibilities of the stage, and it was this which saved the play. Poorly presented, "Pep" would have been intolerable.
The extravaganza began well, the first act being the best, though it suffered much from shocking scenery. In the Athenian setting the author was nearest to his subject, and his lyrics were not the stiffly articulated things which later they became. Youth here is sacrificed to save the State, and though the intervention of These was not entirely necessary, it was pardonable and part of the picture. The trio of gentlemen in semi-evening dress could have been omitted with profit. The second act, however, was wholly false, and the production failed to "put it over." A crowd in the act of rending a woman does not stop at her first word, nor are the canaille so easily (by which I mean so shortly) to be swayed as they are here depicted. But, more important, the author was most unfortunate in his choice of a subject. To represent Charlotte Corday, a fanatic and a murderess, as "one of the driving forces in the path of progress" was nothing but rank sentimentalism. Marat was nothing of the character that conventional histories have
The second act was thoroughly artificial if crudely effective. If one did not suspect that the part of La Corday was written for Miss Mary Cooley one would feel inclined to thank heaven for her. It needed all her talent and personality to save the show from going on the rocks there and then. The connection of the second act with the theme of the extravaganza was dubious; but about the third act there could be no doubt. It had no connection whatever. The author's purpose can be understood; but by employing mechanical men he defeated it. The "abolition" of youth is merely relative; there must be someone for the Robots to labour for, and that someone must once have been young. The introduction of the "R.U.R." idea was largely due to a misunderstanding. The message of the Capek play is that men are at the mercy of the machinery which they themselves have invented; it deals with the trend of Western "Progress," "based on machinery and maximum production at the mercy of demand." You remember the reasons why it was impossible to stop making Robots even when it became clear that they were a menace. And there would be nothing against their production so long as the manager's idealism prevailed and the manufacture was aimed at removing the ills of mankind. It was when the folly of humanity turned the Robots into soldiers that the crash came.
Of the performers one can say little. Miss Mary Cooley deserved her headlines, and it was a pity that Miss Thyra Baldwin's parts were so colourless. With growing assurance she reveals real ability. Mr. Knell, who recited long lists of obscure jokes, was superfluous. The "dame" was first introduced in "Done to Death" and revived in "Luv." The only justification for his being forced upon us again would lie in his possessing unusual humour. Mr. Knell does not. To introduce Rampageous and Co. was playing to the gallery with a vengeance, while Mr. Priestley's good-humoured voice as Theseus quite undid the fearsome impression created by his knees. Mr. Baume acted the ruffian in a manner calculated to endear him to Baroness Orczy, and would have done better in something bigger. Will E. Robbem, the King of Industry, was played by Mr. T. Moses, who had to struggle with an accent before he was heard, while Captain Gussey (Mr. N. White-man) and Corporal Sparr (Mr. J. Lockie) were as safely mediocre as the gentlemen they burlesqued. The indefatigable Mr. Nicholls made three appearances, all with credit; Miss Marjorie Buckeridge danced with abandon; Mr. H. Gledstone piped tunefully as Pan; and, ensconced in the orchestral well, Miss E. Fair and Mr. Byrne sang the closing duet. The one genuine comedian was Mr. I. Wallace, whose legs were priceless; and the dancers this year were Misses M. Tracy, G. Barnsdale and J. White. These four I confess to having enjoyed unreservedly. The chorus did its part splendidly
Sir Charles: I don't care if every friend I have leaves me! Francis: My dear fellow, the great British public is your friend. What more do you require? Sir C: You may laugh. But nobody can stop me from going ahead, and I shall end in the House of Lords. Francis: It is the very place for you, Charlie. No sensible person would think of trying to stop you from going ahead, right into the House of Lords. You keep on giving the public what it wants just as long as ever you can. That's your mission in life. Only prepare for the rainy day. Sir C: What rainy day? Francis: The day when the public wants something better than you can give it —Arnold Bennett: "What the Public Wants." Sapientia magis auro desideranda. —A forgotten proverb.
If the controversies which have rippled around this year's Extravaganza have not given the College furiously to think, at least the financial results of "Pep" should do so. These have not yet been disclosed, but the poor "houses" which attended "Pep" arouse little optimism. "When the annual Extravaganza was primarily an expression of the Capping spirit and the fun of the thing was the chief consideration, the credit balance was as substantial as it was incidental. The fact that the Stud. Ass. came to regard the Extravaganza as the chief source of its revenue did not alter the position, for the College followed its own sweet will in the selection and treatment of its themes. Traditions were followed, but the traditions were those of the College.
With "Luv" and "Pep" a new order arose. "Luv" failed to appear at Capping time, and when it did appear owed its character to the "paid professional producer" called in at the last moment. By means of spectacles copied from the garish displays of Oscar Asche and J. C. Williamson a thin show was padded out until the traditional idea was smothered under a mass of pomp and pageantry. Dazzling colours begat dazzling dreams. The moment it was discovered that College amateurs could creditably imitate hyper-successful professional shows, at that moment an ambition was born to obtain the monetary results of such shows. The means was simple. Give the public what it wanted, and the public would pay, pay, pay! "What the public wanted" was considered to be the things it was accustomed to obtain from professional companies. Let the Extravaganza follow the traditions of these professional companies and money would roll in.
The "easy money" brought in by the compulsory levy simply excited the appetite for more. Visions of a residential college, new tennis courts, and what not arose—noble objects to be achieved at no greater cost than the jettisoning of a few College traditions. A Spartan stand on the ground of the College motto resulted in the loss of some of the finest executive officers the College has had the good fortune to possess, and the "Please the Public—We want Money!" party took charge.
They forgot two little things: one, that what the public wanted was novelty; and the other, that each Extravaganza advertised the one that came after it. The result of the first was that the public would not waste time over a College show that merely imitated what professionals satisfactorily provided all the year round. The result of the second was that "Luv" owed its success, not to its
The title itself was based on an out-of-date notion. "Struth" was a strikingly successful title; the word was an advertisement in itself. "Luv" equally simplified the efforts of chalking parties, but lacked in the quality of arresting the attention. "Pep" was as feeble as "Struth" was striking, and came, more" over, when the novelty of the short and snappy title had been exhausted. It is good business for Wood's Great Peppermint Cure to stick to the one advertising idea year in and year out. A University Extravaganza that not only deserts its traditional character but also deserts its traditional advertisement can no more succeed by a change over to a hackneyed method of advertisement than it can succeed by a reconstruction upon hackneyed lines.
The traditional advertisement of the Extravaganza is the Capping procession. The traditional character of the Extravaganza is the Capping burlesque. Divorce the Extravaganza from Capping and it loses at one and the same time both its reason for existence and its most effective means of advertisement. Divorce it still further by changing it from a burlesque into a second-rate spectacular revue and it fails also in its money-making purpose. The cry of "We want Money!" stands or falls by "Pep." It was to satisfy that cry that an outside dancing master, without the faintest understanding of or sympathy with College ideas and ideals, was brought in and given complete control of the Extravaganza, its production, and its policy. It was to satisfy this cry that College originality, College intellect, the College joke, the College Song, the College burlesque, and other things of a non-commercial character were carefully excluded and the lines of an assumed public taste as care-fully catered for. And an ungrateful public, accustomed to attending Extravaganzas for something that it could not obtain elsewhere, namely the College flavour, simply stayed away.
If the present tendency is followed, the Extravaganza will be lost to the College for all purposes. A producer to produce what the College wants may or may not be a necessity; a producer to decide what the College should have is a calamity. The thin end of the professional wedge has already entered; the completion of the process will be the handing of the Extravaganza over to professionals entirely. It was surrendered first to a commercial purpose, next to the dictation of a "paid professional producer "; the remaining degeneration is only a matter of time.
It is difficult for a new body of students unacquainted with the past of V.U.C. to realise the character and worth of College traditions. In the matter of Capping, some light may be obtained by a perusal of Mr. De la Mare's article in the Jubilee "Spike." Mr. De la Mare's opinions are valuable in that he is the "Father of the Extravaganza" at V.U.C. On the top of his statement of the position, the experience of "Pep" proves that the following changes are necessary:—
The reappearance of the Capping procession (in a chastened form) will, it is to be hoped, provide an occasion upon which to undo the work commenced by the difficulties in hiring the Grand Opera House in
I have never been able to understand the attitude of the English-man towards swearing. Naturally open-minded, he indulges in it with the furtive appearance of a detected criminal. We are an honest race; why, then, this prudishness?—this stuffing of cotton-wool into our ears and talk of "protecting the public"? There seems no edict so absurd to me as this which holds it an offence to allow a policeman to hear what four-fifths of the population are saying every day of the week. Swearing is a relief to the feelings by the use of words sufficiently strong to meet the case. That these words mainly consist of adjectives and nouns is explained by the fact that most strong language is abusive. In the Elizabethan era, at once the most vigorous and vitriolic age in our history, all strong language was abusive. It is conceded that a man may swear to his heart's content, so long as nobody hears him. This is a stupidity worthy of the Saxon. Swearing, like singing, has its pleasure intensified by an appreciative audience. And many men find a keen delight, or at least a humorous wonder, at listening to a really fluent flow of bad language. Anyhow, all of us, solicitor and sergeant-major, swear at times, regardless of policemen.
In literature the movement is towards an intenser life. The Victorian publisher, entrenched behind the barriers of good form, printed D—and H—only when he couldn't avoid it altogether. Now, who in creation ever heard of "H—"? Yet, in Dickens and Thackeray this is amplified over and over again. Mr. Mantalini temporises with "dem," and humbles himself profoundly on the one occasion when he uses the honest English equivalent. And this prudishness is carried over into our own day. Walpole and Henry James would not sully their plays with a really genuine curse-word, more's the pity. But the tradition is dying, though dying hard. "Damn" and "Hell" are not merely spelt out by our younger writers; they are woven into an embroidery of abuse.
Sylvia Scarlett's "Blast the whole bloody world" has its parallel in many passages of modern literature. It is inevitable, for realism is in the air. When Compton Mackenzie delights in introducing us to a landlady whose husband was attendant at an urinal and George Moore must describe his sweetheart in the bath, it is not to be expected that they will stick at niceties of language. Nor have we any right to complain. For if fiction is to be worth the writing, it must give us an approximation of life, and not the sugared imitation of the Victorians. And one of the myths to be destroyed is the language bogey, the notion that men speak as they are made to in Wilde's plays, or that the adjectives "wretched" or "rotten" ever came to a man's lips if his vocabulary included the expression" Bloody awful!"
Alec Waugh has done much towards destroying the schoolboy myth of "bounder" and "blighter," and his "bloodies" and "damn silly little scugs" are much nearer the mark. It is a remarkable thing that most literature concerned with the two sources of bad language—schools and the sea—has been so tame. Marryat, Fenimore Cooper, and Dana have evaded coming to grips with the real issues of their theme. They have striven to obtain their atmosphere by the dexterous use of sails, cordage, and storms, and the
As for the schools, Dickens' "Dotheboys'" has led to a legion of papers, from the pre-war "halfpenny wonder" to that eminently respectable journal in which Stevenson published his "Treasure Island" and the general impression of the writers seems to be that our college youth does not indulge in swearing at all. This is rubbish, as every old collegian knows. The ordinary language in the college is only one degree removed from the training-camp.
Much might be written of the feminine influence upon our youth, and freed from the peril of the petticoat the lad is in no mood to choose his terms. Even if he arrives a fairly mild youth, he is soon infected by the atmosphere of swear-words and smutty yarns. I neither condemn nor condone him. These things are facts; and it is not the realist's duty to palliate, but to present.
It is in the literature of the realities of military life that we would have sought an approach to the actual, and with the war we have had it. Those products of the five years, "Sapper," Robert Nichols, and Siegfried Sassoon have not been schooled in the niceties of language, and were in no mood to mince matters in the "terrible teens." Sassoon's
"Oh Jesus, send me a wound to-day, And I'll believe in your bread and wine. And get my bloody old sins washed white"
is a fair specimen of his frankness. He has not been popular with the authorities in consequence, and the printing by a newspaper of the poem from which I have made this extract led to a prosecution for blasphemous libel. Nichols," the arduous and endurious one," and Robert Graves, the author of" Over the Brazier" and of u Fairies and Fusiliers," are blunt, but scarcely approach the brutal bluntness of Sassoon.
It is characteristic of Kipling that with all his Army jargon and violent language he has not given us one every-day expression of the modern u Tommy."Masefield has been more honest—too honest some people thought before the war years upset all our standards. In the light of more recent writing, the fires of "The Everlasting Mercy" seem to have burned pretty low."You closhy put" is a term of endearment after some of Thomas Burke's Chinatown Tales. Still, all these men have been busy in verse, and it is to the novel that we must turn for our full emancipation. Poetry can but pave the way at best.
The movement now in progress is not merely a revolt against established conventions, it is a plea for plain speech, for a return to truthful and not temporised expressions.
The Elizabethans, overflowing with vitality, have spoken more freely than any other age—in those days there were no policemen. And always a period of national vitality has been reflected in our literature. Our younger men are not afraid to pen a word which would echo in the drawing-rooms. Perhaps the fact dates back to
"I am a woman as well as yourself and no she-dog," cries Betty, the chambermaid, under the assaults of Mrs. Tow-Wowse, and the scene might be taken as a model by many moderns. Smollett has pointed the way, and I look to such of our younger writers as have not yet been initiated by their elders, and have realised that for the artist there can be no such thing as" good form."
Le Roi est mort—vive le roi!
The Right Honourable David Lloyd George, M.P., is essentially a man with a past. From his commencement of life in an insignificant Welsh hamlet, he has risen to occupy the traditional dwelling house at No. 10, Downing Street, to be" the pillar of a people's hope, the centre of a world's desire;"and now he is gone—le roi est mort: another is in his place—vive le roi."Whether he has a future left to him or whether great men like great institutions must pass away when their life's work is accomplished, depends on whether he can admit the futility of his present creed and the folly of his past mistakes, and begin again with fresh principles the slow process of gaining the nation's confidence.
He is, as we have said, a man with a past; but it is one of those "storied pasts" that are the peculiar glory of the British race and of British men. He was born at Manchester early in the year
When he reached the age of fourteen it became necessary to choose an occupation. The ministry was the obvious choice: it offered a State-endowed, the nearest approach to a royal, road to learning, and a comparatively easy life to follow. But the strict views of the religious seet to which the family belonged proscribed any pay or reward for preaching the Gospel. Richard Lloyd dreamed of a medical career for his nephew—would David like to be a doctor? No, David would not."What he would like was to be" a lawyer like Mr. Goffey," the kind-hearted old family solicit or who had befriended the family at the time of their father's death. The uncle wisely yielded to his nephew's wishes, and David Lloyd George joined the great army of lawyers-to-be.
The period that follows speaks, in its strangely pathetic and inspiring scenes, of Richard Lloyd's great-heartedness to his sister and her orphaned children. The first obstacle in the young aspirant's way was the Preliminary Examination. He must know more Latin and more French; he must be able to read the classical authors. The village dominie could carry him no further, and a public school was altogether beyond possibility. Uncle Lloyd was the only tutor available; but he knew neither Latin nor French. Very well, then, he would learn them. So hand-in-hand the uncle and nephew wrestled with dictionaries and grammars, and in the dark winter nights, with the light of a candle, they together spelt out the sentences of Cæesar and Sallust and laboriously read Æsop in French. Pause, 0 ye readers, bursars and scholarship holders, and reflect—reflect upon that great system of free education which teaches everything except resource and industry. Here was a poor village lad, a member of a despised race, speaking a despised tongue, living among peasants on land which was not their own, yet sitting down each night in the stone-floored cottage kitchen to struggle with the terrors of a dead language. Such industry seldom loses its need. When the examination day came Richard Lloyd took his nephew up to Liverpool, the place of trial, and accompanied the boy each day to the examination-room, calling for him each evening. At the end of the week they returned to the village, and soon the news arrived that young Lloyd George had passed. There were five years without earnings to be faced then; but the bootmaker dipped deeply into his small store of savings, and the lad was articled to a country firm of solicitors.
For the next five years David Lloyd George applied his youthful enthusiasm to the study and practice of law, politics and journalism. He worked industriously in the office, and he discussed with much vigour in the town debating society the burning questions of the day (let us hope they were not so burning as to be, like the notions of certain present-day debating societies, distinctly red), and he contributed boyish effusions to the "North Wales Express" under the imposing pseudonym of "Brutus." In due course, he passed his final examinations, and was enrolled as a practising solicitor. He immediately commenced practice, first in his home village and then in the seaport where he had passed his clerkship days. It was then that those tales of woe he had heard in the bootmaker's workshop came back upon him, bringing with them the inspiration of a cause. With his easily-aroused defiance of authority and his gift of clear, forceful speaking, he very shortly became known far and wide as the champion of the oppressed; his fame spread from town to town and borough to borough like the rumour of a coming battle.
It was inevitable that in these circumstances he should turn his eyes towards Westminster. But the way was strewn with difficulties—the ancient system of electing the squire, ex officio, as it were, had not died out. To use Lloyd George's own words:"The Tories had not yet realised that the day of the cottage-bred man had dawned."Even the common folk did not altogether approve of the young Cricciethy solicitor as their Parliamentary representative. But the coach of opportunity stopped even before he expected it and he immediately seized the hand-rail and clambered aboard. In an unexpected by-election he defeated a Die-Hard Tory by eighteen votes, and at the age of twenty-seven took his seat in the House of Commons.
Slowly the "pettifogging little Welsh attorney" made for himself a place of renown in Parliament. He was at first not a little chilled by the party atmosphere of the House and its indifference to the great social evils he had come there to remedy. But when the South African War was declared in
"See here now—five years ago you handed me a strip of blue paper to give to the Speaker as your accredited representative. If I never again represent these boroughs in the House of Commons, I shall at least have the satisfaction of handing back to you that blue paper with no single stain of blood upon it."
The effect was electrical. The whole audience rose to its feet with a shout; he had won back their allegiance.
Mr. Lloyd George's life so far would provide splendid material for a Plunket Medal oration. But harrow and alas for the transience of human loyalty! He continued his devotion to "the cause" until
"If I never again represent these boroughs in the House of Commons, I shall at least have the satisfaction of handing back to you that blue paper with no single stain of human blood upon it."
"The Cause" has suffered a change.
At the Peace Conference Mr. David Lloyd George let slip his greatest opportunity. It is true that he faced almost insuperable obstructions—M. Clemenceau is reported to have said in one of his speeches," President Wilson talks like the good Christ, but acts like Lloyd George."Conciliation with such a firebrand is difficult—but the obstructions stopped short of the absolutely insuperable, and if the delegates had met in a neutral city, farther removed by time and distance from the horrors of that last strenuous year, they could have created, perhaps, a sane and a just peace. As it was, they carried the dash and glamour of war with them into the Conference chamber, and disaster was the result. Having succeeded in war, Mr. Lloyd George failed in the greater tasks of peace, and it was not long before his end came. Of course, he has never meant any great harm. He has been ready at all times to issue statements of good intentions: they would make a wonderful pavement.
He is now a man of the past. It is a glorious past, in some respects, indeed; but he is shut off from all that by his gross mistakes. If he wishes to regain the confidence of the British nation, he must make confession full and free, and come before the people with a new charter of liberty in his hand. The old one is torn beyond hope of repair. He had a cause, but it was narrowed down until it became lost in the worship of office; and now that defeat has come, his refusal to accept it in a straightforward manner seems to place him beyond recovery. His early political life showed such promise that one might have thought he was to take his place in the narrow ranks of the truly great, that he
But his subsequent conduct has shown that he is of an age and not for all time; his later achievements testify eloquently to the deceiving power of words, and his fall supplies proof of the saying of a great Englishman:"The mind is the man. If that be kept pure, a man signifies somewhat; if not, I would very fain see what difference there is betwixt him and a beast. He hath only some activity to do some more mischief."
Mr. Best is nothing if not sympathetic in his handling of two systems of beliefs that he plainly thinks will find their ultimate repository in brotherly communion in the dustbin of religious curiosities. For, keenly alive as he is to the romantic carelessness of reality that characterises the Maori mind in its grapple with things infinite, he realises to the full that the culmination of the tussle is never a complete defeat. He possesses a remarkably keen sense of the poetic beauty that always seems to be engendered more readily from the friction of the mind of primitive man with reality than from the loose rubbing of the mind of civilised man with the screen of conventionalities that usually contrives to hide away the elemental facts and foundations of life. Indeed, one would be surprised to find it otherwise. For Mr. Best, a traveller in the Far West, a stout hand in the lumber camps of Canada, a wanderer in wildest Mexico, an intimate friend of the Maori in days when the Maori granted his friendship but rarely to the uncomprehending pakeha, is still a vagrant and a poet at heart, and the stirringly earnest expounder of a mythology of which he seems almost at times to be the devotee. But he is withal a realist uncompromisingly. And in his character as such he knows how real the fairyland of Rangi and Papa, of Tiki and Tane and Whiro may become. In the lecture before us, he tells how the prestige of the Maori race, their tribal pride, their civic institutions, their daily round of use and wont were all sustained and supported by their fervent faith in the directing and enlivening guardianship and power of these my thopoetic personification of earth and heaven, of light and darkness. Such was their faith that the man who believed he had displeased the gods by breaking some rite of tapu was convinced that he would die from their hands within twenty-four hours—and of the greatness of his faith lay down and died accordingly. Consider now the plight of a people so dependent upon the goodwill of their gods, so helpless if they believed their gods were alienated, when there came to their shores the sky-breaking white men of the antipodes, white men who told them their gods were false, that their worship was futile. Well might the Maori feel that the ancient mauri ora of the race was noa, its mana long since shed, the tapu violate, the moral code desecrate, and license paramount where law had prevailed of old.
What wonder that decadence set in long, long before the missionary destroyers of the code Maori could implant the code Christian! Shorn of his ancestral institutions, uncomprehending the new, the Maori saw the grandeur of the old simple life of fishing, fighting and feasting pass before his eyes and sink into the whirlpool of the commingled mixture of beer, bluestone, and kerosene that inaugurated and symbolised the new era. In New Zealand, as in so many lands, the advent of Christianity destroyed the older, more primitive faiths only to enshrine Mammon and European commercialism in lieu thereof."I come to find Christians and spices," said Vasco de Gama when he landed in India. "I come to find Christians and broad acres" might well have been the parallel comment of Edward Gibbon Wakefield in
Maori strong in the faith of the dead gods would have dared to outrage their pride by alienating their land (and his) to the tipua, the sea-demons of the north.
How the Maori ever came to accept uncomprehendingly the God of the white man to the destruction of his own ancestral gods might have remained forever an unsolved problem in the strange psychology of the Neolithic mind had it not been for Mr. Best. For the exchange of the familiar morally potent gods for the unfamiliar, incomprehensible and therefore morally powerless God of the pakeha seems at first sight a poor bargain. So indeed it proved. But the Maori did not see it in that light until it was already too late. How he actually did see it is powerfully told by Mr. Best with all the verve of the born teller of tales in his story of how Christianity came to Maungapohatu. We shall not spoil his tale by retailing it here.
Appreciative as Mr. Best is of the departed glory of Maori tradition and custom, he is not maliciously destructive of the Christian tradition that killed and replaced it. And herein he displays that; Avideness of sympathy and broadness of outlook that we noted above. For although he deplores the ignorance of the early missionaries, he realises that they built worse than they knew, and that their motives were of the highest. And he is ready to acknowledge and appreciate the changed attitude of modern churchmen such as the Rev. A. Hopkins, the Rev. W. J. Durrad, and Father Le Roy. Nevertheless, no one realises more fully than Mr. Best that in some respects the ancient Maori tohunga taught a code that was vastly superior to certain of the dogmas promulgated by the Rev. Samuel Marsden and those who followed him.
"The religion introduced by these energetic and assuredly courageous men," he says, "was that of our own forbears, plentifully besprinkled with hell-fire and burning lakes. It was now that the Maori learned, to his amazement, that the human soul has a troublous time of it when he leaves this world and fares out upon the Broad Path of Tane. No longer, as of yore, was he to lead a carefree life in Rarohenga, where the ex-Dawn Maid ever protects the souls of her descendants, or ascend by the whirl wind-path to the uppermost of the twelve heavens, there to be welcomed by Mareikura, the celestial maids of that supernal realm. His doom was to be case into a furnace of so fierce a heat that it can destroy immaterial qualities, an all-embracing fire in a drear region where the diet consists of brimstone and treacle."
And Mr. Best knows, too, that the Maori religion was not to be condemned in too facile a manner. The conversion of the heathen may be a very worthy object, but a strict searching of heart to determine who is the heathen is a praiseworthy preliminary. And after all, Mr. Best hints delicately, is it not possible that tohunga and priests, Maori and Christian, were all heathen together. For Christian origins are knit up with the cultures of far-away Babylonia and further Sumeria, the legendary cradle home of our own far-voyaging Maori. In the name of Io the Parentless, Io the Supreme Being, of all things the parent, himself uncreate, it is probable that the Maori has preserved an Asiatic equivalent of Jehovah known variously as Yahweh, Iahone, Iahou, and Io. The legend of Adam and Eve and the serpent also is found in Maori mythology, and other parallels abound, such as the belief in the ingress or egress of the spirit in sneezing, which is preserved in the Old
Such appears to be Mr. Best's faith. And the upshot of it all? Well, it is this: Let us no longer be intolerant of the beliefs of the Maori. But they are false. Well, how, think you, our own will fare in ten thousand years? Mayhap we were grubs together.
Life is a series of practical problems. These problems arise through the operation of laws. A review of man's history show? that the orthodox have seldom contributed to the solution of these problems. They have been content to analyse and to state the position as it actually exists. Even in the most practical of realms—the economic—this is true. The orthodox economists have contributed relatively little to the solution of our great economic problems. When a working day of long hours was the vogue, economists could be found to justify this as the necessary outcome of "economic" law, and the same is true of the employment of women and children, the evil conditions of employment, and similar matters. In general, reform has come from without the ranks of orthodoxy.
To-day one of the social problems—perhaps the greatest—is the relation of Capital and Labour. Many suggestions have been offered for ending the conflict, and various forms of co-partnership and profit-sharing have been attempted by enterprising business men of wide views. The economists have discussed, condemned, approved, or suspended judgment on these proposals.
In New Zealand a very interesting experiment has been made by Mr. Valder, of Hamilton, and in his pamphlet Mr.de la Mare—one of the first students of this College—aims at showing what are the fundamental principles which govern the relations of Capital and Labour, wherein some notable schemes have fallen short, and
The master idea of the pamphlet is that the future depends on the application of the principles of justice to our industrial life. The principles that ought to rule are:—
Mr. de la Mare's summary of his treatment of the principles is to be found in these words:—
In the first place, we must cease to regard the man who gives service as a machine, a thing, or a commodity. We must recognise this in considering the respective rewards given to "man" and "thing." In the second place reward for "thing" must, after recognition of "man" be based on real values, and the market value gives a foundation which is easily understood and clearly rational. Finally, beside each man in the world of labour to-day stands the spectre of poverty. Accident or misfortune, causes over which he has no control, may leave him, with his dependents, stranded in a community to which he has paid all his debts. Insurance against unemployment for himself and his fellows is a demand which, it is thought, cannot be resisted on grounds either of expediency or justice.
Then follows an outline of the following schemes that have been tried:—(a) The Lever Plan; (b) Leitch's Industrial Democracy; (c) the Scheme of Rowntree and Co.; (d) the Scheme of Austin Hopkinson.
Mr. de la Mare shows that, while all of these schemes have features of strength, there are some aspects in which they fail to conform to the fundamental principles laid down; they fail to place responsibilities of management on labour, they make an unreal distinction between brain-workers and hand-workers, or they depend merely on the goodwill of the organiser. Mr. Valder aims at avoiding these errors.
"Labour Shares" to all those who give services.
A Bill to embody his principle in our Companies Act will be before the coming session of Parliament.
"When this Bill becomes law," says Mr. de la Mare. 'Labour' will acquire a status hitherto unknown. A Company will be able to issue 'Labour Shares' which have no capital value and are not transferable, shares nevertheless, which confer upon the holder, by virtue of service, a proportion of the total net profits (including an equity in the yearly reserve) and a proportion of the total voting power. It is a very curious thing that an employer like Mr. Valder, who wishes to make a courageous and vital experiment in company organisation should be virtually precluded
Mr. Valder states his own case thus:—
The scheme I wish to adopt is to limit the reward for capital, insure it against loss, and then pay the surplus to the human element in proportion to the service rendered by every individual employed in the business. This is a reversal of the present practice under which owners of Capital are the residuary legatees, but it is one of those reversals which will stand a great deal of close examination at the bar of common sense. If the argument is true in regard to profits, its validity is not less well-founded in regard to control. Considering all the limitations of the human element and other factors which may be used against Labour control, I am of the opinion that voting-power may well be distributed evenly between Capital and Labour shareholders.
We live in a period of transition. We cannot live by the past; we must look forward, not backward. If the Bill becomes law it will be interesting to see whether the great body of entrepeneurs are willing to divest themselves of the great power the present system rather unfairly gives them. Much will depend on the measure of prosperity achieved by those industries in which the new method is adopted. If Labour rises to its responsibilities and opportunities it may soon be borne in upon the entrepeneurs that the road to success lies along the way of the new method. They will be compelled to fall into line if they wish to compete with businesses that have the dynamic force of real co-operation. If the Bill passes we shall see some interesting experiments; we may even make history again in New Zealand.
Dear "Spike,"—What have we done to deserve this? Is V.U.C. a University or a Kindergarten? Have the numerous girls' schools of Wellington decided to absorb the University, and have we fallen to the level of a mere extra form in Miss Baber's excellent Diocesan School for the daughters of Pious Gentlefolk, or what? Is this another symptom of the universal unrest consequent on the Great World War? Is it the harbinger of another Bloody Revolution? Or has some fair Debussyite decided to do homage to the master in the semblance of La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin?
Excuse my French, dear "Spike," as our good friend C.Q.P. would say at a moment of heightened emotion like this. What I am referring to is the fact that not one only, but several—how am I to describe them?—women of immature years have positively been seen, observed, and accurately noted to walk the hallowed halls and corridors of V.U.C. with their hair down! Oh," Spike!" blush for human depravity! weep for the brazen effrontery of our little sisters! shudder at the abysm down which., horribile dictu! frail femininity has tottered and incontinently fallen!
What is there to say, O "Spike"? The horrid fact is out. Mayhap by the time these lines appear Decency will have already prevailed; even now Duty," stern daughter of the voice of God" (Wordsworth), may have stepped in; this very night, if heaven so wills, these eyes may gaze upon the semblance, if not the reality, of Women walking under the eye of Mr. J. S. Brook; honour, even now, may be satisfied. Else, what to do but imitate the noble Japanese, and, with due ceremony, having offered prayers and oblations to Minerva and Apollo, austere partner of learning and the arts, and to the nine gracious Muses of Parnassus; having purified the heart and washed the hands, commit hari-kiri in the middle of the hall between the hours of five and eight? So a nation makes tribute to Bushido. Shall a Seat of Learning do less?—I am, etc.,
P.S.—If they don't like to put it up, why not bob it?
The best and brightest continue to leave us. We drop a tear of blessing on the heads of Miss Hilda G. Heine, M.A., Mr. Gordon Troup, M.A., and Mr. J. G. Myers, M.Sc. We pass no superfluous encomiums, for among friends such are not needed. We gaze with admiration, envy, something of awe, on the departing ones; good students and true, we hope to gaze upon their faces many times again before the night descends. Miss Heine goes, via London, to Berlin, to study economics at the fountain-head. Gordon Troup is on his way to Poitiers with the French Travelling Scholarship for a two years' post-graduate course. He is to represent New Zealand at the biennial meetings of the General Committee of the World's Student Christian Federation at High Leigh in England early in August, and will attend one of the British Student Christian Movement Summer Conferences at Swanwick. Mr. Myers goes to Harvard with the
Mr. H. L. Richardson, M.Sc, also departs for London in the near future with a scholarship at the Imperial College of Science and Technology.
Marie Priestley to K. M. Griffin, M.Sc.
Marjorie Carr, B.A., to S. A. Wiren, B.A., LL.M.
Margaret Harris to H. McCormick LL.B.
Marion Whitehorn, B.A., to D. O. Williams, M.A.
Roma Fabian to H. A. Heron, M.A.
(Apologies for any omissions)
Good luck to them all!
It has been suggested—and the suggestion is worth serious consideration—that the best of the College songs should be reprinted with the music. The words are now printed in the Old Clay Patch and the C.U. Handbook, but the only copies of the music to which they should be hung seem to have been tattered and torn beyond all possibility of reclamation; this when they have not disappeared altogether. And it is not as simple as it might seem to hand down tunes, as it were, by word of mouth. They would not make a very big book, and the expense should, therefore, not be prohibitive. One thing is certain—the songs are not known as they should be; and this may be the method of getting them known. The matter any how will not be allowed to rest here.
We thought for a time it would be necessary to have this number of the "Spike" black-edged. Fortunately, however, things have turned out otherwise, and we are glad to inform our readers that Mr. Brook is recovering as quickly as may be from the brutal attack made on him recently by a burglar in his house. Mr. Brook was a good deal knocked about, but we are proud to think he put up a good fight before his assailant got the upper hand. The sympathy of the "Spike," as well as of the whole College, is with Mr. and Mrs. Brook.
We can only express the most profound regret also at the sudden death of Sir Walter Buchanan, the latest and not the least of the College's benefactors. He had the interests of education at heart, and his foundation of the Chair of Agriculture and his expressed intention of further providing for work necessary for agricultural teaching was a very practical illustration of his interest. Such men are all too few; their loss, even at the advanced age of Sir Walter Buchanan, is all the more to be deplored. The Executive of the Students' Association at its last meeting passed a motion of regret, and a wreath was sent to the funeral.
What has long been lacking among College activities, a club for social service, has recently been started, and is hard at work. The aim of a University, after all, is fundamentally social service; and one of the most pressing of contemporary needs is that of educated men and women having a sympathetic understanding of social problems and broad vision in their consideration. We have had libraries of theories hurled at our heads in the last few years; we attempt now to put one or two of them into practice. The aim is not indiscriminate and ill-directed charity, but constructive work of real value, involving personal contact with fundamental human realities and a solid understanding of the principles involved. The Club is working in with other organisations where possible, and has enlisted the help of such able men as the Rev. T. Feilden Taylor and Mr. P. Fraser, M.P. Prosper the work! Funds are wanted.
[In the Silver Jubilee Number of "The Spike" a foreword by Sir Robert Stout and some verses by ' S.E.' were headed by this quotation (as, quite by coincidence, it is cited in Cassell's Book of Quotations):—
"Tempus abire tibi est, ne . . . Rideat et pulset lasciva decentius aetas."
Reference to the original, Horace Epistles II., 2, shows that the omitted words represented by the dots are:—"potum largius aequo."]
Sir Robert Stout and Eichy! Them two with one quotation
As laudators of the temporis that acts as inspiration!
But did they take the trouble to look beyond the dots?
And would Sir Bob have used 'em had he known they stood for "spots"?
The Society is particularly fortunate in having a very active committee at the present time, and the prospects for a successful year are extremely bright. The levy of 10s. 6d, per head on the student body has resulted in an increase of about 50 per cent, in our membership, with the result that we have from fifteen to twenty speakers taking part in debates, not to mention the hordes of fascinated listeners who throng our meetings. Our financial position is a very satisfactory one, the Students' Association grant and the profits of the annual Plunket Medal contest proving quite sufficient for our extensive advertising and printing programme.
In order to provide for particularly topical debates arising during the session, the Committee decided to leave half a dozen blank dates for insertion of subjects. We should like members of the Society to hand in suitable subjects for debate to the Secretary not later than" fifteen days prior to the fixed date of the debate.
The Society's year commenced early; the Annual General Meeting being held on the 18th March,
The Society is particularly fortunate in securing the services of the Rhodes Scholar for
The syllabus of debates for the year is a very full one, containing no fewer than fifteen debates, and the subjects cover a huge range, with selections of everything, from religion to the activities of the Navy League. Already seven debates have taken place, the details of which have in most cases appeared in the daily press, except in the case of the debate on the wages of railwayman. Here one of the dailies confined its remarks to the announcement of the debate and the placing of the speakers. We feel glad that our representatives in the Joynt Challenge Scroll—Messrs. P. Martin-Smith and R. M. Campbell—expressed our opinions of the Press in no hesitating manner.
On March 22nd a debate was held on the subject, "That social progress is retarded more than it is assisted by the Christian Religion." This debate would have been rejected by the terms of our constitution had it not been for the broad-minded legal acuteness of our late Secretary, who succeeded in passing, against a storm of opposition, a motion to the effect that the words "theological subjects being excluded" in clause 2 of the constitution should contain the following proviso:—"This shall not preclude the Committee from selecting social subjects even though they have theological implications."
The debate proved a very interesting one, and enabled our heretical friends, Mssrs. R. F. Fortune and J. C. Beaglehole to inveigh against the Christians and their usages to their hearts' content. In spite of the complete drubbing which the faith received, the opposers. Mr. W. P. Rollings and Mr. I. L. Hjorring, still we understand adhere to the tenets of their faith. It was urged against Christianity that it had opposed humanitarian legislation. The bishops of the House of Lords had fought against the anti slavery laws and divorce amending enactments that gave women the same rights as men. The Church had opposed science and scientists from Bruno and Galileo through Simpson and Darwin to Dr. Marie Stopes and Freud. Mr. Rollings replied by asking his hearers to imagine a literature with all Christian references deleted. Christianity had provided the strongest of inspirations, artistically and socially. Mr. Beaglehole pointed out that Luther had played the part of sycophant to the rulers of Germany, and that the practice of the Church had been as depraved as its ideals were lofty. Mr. Hjorring said that partial views of Christian practice were dangerous. Mr. J. A. Humphrey acted as judge, and placed the first five speakers in
On April 5th Mr. J. W. Davidson moved, and Mr. J. B. Yaldwyn opposed. a motion, "That the action of the MacDonald Government in abandoning the Singapore base is to be commended."Mr. Davidson and others pointed out that according to the Washington Pact, Great Britain, Japan, and the United States had contracted to refrain from building fortifications In the Pacific east of 105 deg. E. longitude. The longitude of Singapore was 103 deg. 50 min. E. It would have been very nearly a violation of the letter of the law, and certainly a violation of its spirit, to build a naval base at Singapore. The imposition of an additional burden of £10,000 on an unemployment stricken England for the purpose of fomenting jealousy and rivalry between Britain and Japan was a maniacal policy. Mr. Yaldwyn protested that the protection of our trade routes demanded an efficient fleet, and the abandonment of Singapore crippled our Eastern squadron. The motion was carried. Colonel G. Mitchell, D.S.O., placed the speakers thus:—(1) Mr. Rogers, (2) Mr. Pope, (3) Mr. Davidson, (4) Mr. Yaldwyn, (5) Messrs. Hurley and Rollings.
On April 26th Mr. Haigh moved "That this meeting is convinced of the justice of the railwaymen's strike for increased wages." Mr. Arndt opposed. The movers emphasised the inadequacy of the wage of £3 19s. l0d., and showed that the Government had blocked conciliation proceedings for fifteen months. Mr. Arndt said that the lower orders should be kept in their place. Nothing justified direct action while arbitration was possible The motion was carried. Mr. G. G. Watson placed the speakers as follows:—(1) Mr. Yaldwyn, (2) Mr. Campbell, (3) Messrs. Davidson and Rollings, (5) Mr. Haigh.
The next debate concerned the decadence of the British Empire. Mr. Heron moved, "That the Empire, being founded on force, must inevitably decay."Mr. Heron showed that the Empire had been established by force. Mr. Baume. opposing, admitted as much, but failed to see that it was maintained by force. It was maintained by goodwill, which did not decay as easily as navies and armies might. The motion was lost. Mr. H. H. Cornish placed Mr. Campbell first, the other speakers as follows: (2) Mr. Yaldwyn, (3) Mr. Baume, (4) Mr. Davidson, (5) Mr. Rollings.
On May 24th Mr. Beaglehole moved, "That the conferring of titles on New Zealand citizens should cease forthwith. Mr. Atmore opposed. Mr. Beaglehole pointed out that once men won their spurs on the battlefield; nowadays in the soap or beer business. Mr. Atmore said that titles were the reward of industry and a necessary Incentive to self-sacrifice. The motion was carried. Mr. P. J. O'Regan placed the speakers: (1) Mr. Baume, (2) Mr. Campbell, (3) Mr. Rollings, (4) Mr. Davidson, (5) Mr. Yaldwyn.
June 7th saw the motion up for discussion:"That the publication of the grosser details of Law Court proceedings, being a menace to the morality of the community, should be prohibited."The discussion centred round the newspaper "Truth," which littered the tables plentifully. Despite Mr. Dowsett's indictment of that newspaper—evil associations corrupt good manners—Messrs. Cousins and Croker succeeded in persuading their audience that the publication of obscenities pandered to no morbidity, but provoked storms of righteous indignation against the criminal. Mr. C. H. Taylor placed the speakers: (1) Mr. Cousins, (2) Mr. Dowsett, (3) Mr. Leicester, (4) Mr. Campbell, (5) Mr. Rogers.
On June 21st Mr. J. Steele moved, "That in the event of the Government committing New Zealand to participation in a war outside that country, University students should refuse to render military service in any capacity."Mr. F. A. Marriott opposed. Mr. Steele said that no Christian could bear arms under any pretext. Mr. Marriott said that failing our support the war outside might very well be carried inside our own country. The motion was carried. Dr. Gibb placed the speakers: (1) Mr. Campbell, (2) Mr. Rollings, (3) Mr. Baume, (4) Mr. Davidson, (5) Mr. Steele.
The annual general meeting at the beginning of the year attracted a good muster of students. After the formal business, election of officers, etc., had been disposed of, Professor Hunter opened a discussion on the Modern Press in Relation to Democracy. He showed that the rapid growth of in
For the first ordinary meeting of the term we were fortunate enough to secure Mr. Elsdon Best. Mr. Best rather overwhelmed the meeting with his comparison of the Maori and Christian mythologies—certainly one of the finest addresses the Club has had the privilege of hearing. The Club has had Mr. Best's address printed, and as it is reviewed elsewhere in this "Spike," it is not necessary to traverse the ground again in these notes. The discussion, though interesting, was short, and came rather as an anticlimax.
The second meeting was opened by the Leader of the Parliamentary Labour Party (Mr. H. E. Holland). Mr. Holland laboured valorously to wreck our patriotism. He assured us that we erred if we thought of Britannia as of Sir Galahad—
"Her strength is as the strength of ten, Because her heart is pure."
If Britannia's strength was as of ten it was rather because her digestion war, good. Many unwholesome morsels had contributed to her present puissance. Mr. Holland instanced several. There was the Opium War in the early forties. Coming down to more recent times, Mr. Holland lingered awhile over the Boer War. The ostensible reason for this war was the securing of voting rights for the Outlanders on the Rand. Yet thousands of the men who laid down their lives in South Africa had never enjoyed politiical rights at home. The scramble for territory was the true reason for warfare. For territory meant exclusive trading rights, the opportunity for the raising of tariff walls against competitors, and, above all, a field for the investment of the capital that piled up at home owing to the profiteering at the expense of the public and the plundering at the expense of the workers. Our entry into the late war was itself based on the entangling alliances that were the outcome of a world game of beggar-my-neighbour. The installing of a Labour Government in the Treasury benches at Home was the reply to the illiberalism of a Liberal Government that had not trusted the people in the prewar years, as well as to the jingoism of a Conservative Government that was willing and ready to salve its conscience with the precious degree or two of longitude that legally absolved Singapore from the conditions of the Washington pact. In the open diplomacy of the Labour Government was the hope and the promise of better things. The discussion following was somewhat desultory. The main issue involved was the five battle cruisers. What was the meaning of this display of militarism by a Labour Government? Mr. Holland pointed out the precarious position of Mr. MacDonald s Government; it had to make some concessions to political opponents. The cruisers were for replacement purposes only. And the naval programme that Mr. Baldwin had contemplated had been vastly shorn even apart from Singapore.
Mr. Harold Miller opened the third meeting of the year with a paper on Anglo-Catholicism. The old antithesis of materialism and spiritualism was sunk forever in the philosophy of James and Bergson, opined Mr. Miller But Bishop Gore had done even more than those two very worthy philosophers to ensure the eternal felicity of mankind in a universe that was a probationary anteroom to the hereafter. Whether there was going to be no need of probation when the dissipation and degradation of energy was com
At this stage of the year it was beginning to be felt that outsiders were being afforded more than their fair share of the limited time available for meetings, and members not enough. Mr. Mackie accordingly opened the next meeting on Christianity and War with a brief exordium lasting only a quarter of an hour. He showed that evolution proceeded from individualism to co-operative aggregations of individuals. The World State of the future would bear the same relations to the warring nationalities of to-day as the metazoa to the protozoa. It must come, and come quickly, or else the transition will never be effected. The strides made by destructive science demand a rapid leap in the evolutionary process, or else its entire reversal. Commonsense and religion were comrades in arms in the struggle against war. Christianity taught the loving of one's enemies. Miss Moncrieff could not agree with Mr. Mackie. War had brought out the heroism latent in men. Moreover, it was a continuation of the struggle for existence that was the foundation of all evolutionary progress. Mr. Davidson thought it was high time this struggle for existence was raised to a spiritual plane. Let it continue in a World Tribunal, not on the battlefield. Mr. Baume said that the Quakers in Pennsylvania had failed to live up to their pacifism after the death of Penn. Various speakers failed to see why we moderns living in a different age and under vastly different conditions should necessarily follow suit. Messrs. McCaw and Steele said that Christ was a pacifist, and that the service of God was above all worldly considerations, even existence itself. War was unholy. Better the Empire were wiped out than continue in Godless fashion. Mr. Wilson wanted to know if all the pacifists present would contentedly watch a bully maltreat a child, or a militaristic State ride over a peaceable small neighbour. Mr. Beaglehole read Mr. Wilson a lecture on the international politics of the last twenty years, and remarked that his analogy was an impossible one. Miss Gardner pointed out the menace of unequal degrees of disarmament in different States. Other speakers pointed out that war, unlike the struggle for existence in the lower organisms, led to the survival of the decrepit and unfit, that the Sermon on the Mount was undoubtedly pacifist, but as it was hardly likely that it was the voice of God, and still less likely that it was God reported correctly, that such a fact was not decisive. The meeting terminated abruptly at 9.30, and overflowed outside to wage the war above the tennis courts. Projected meetings are to be opened by Dr. I. L. G. Sutherland, on "Human Nature and War;"Dr. Gibb, on" The Efficacy of Prayer;"and Mr. E. H. Dowsett, on "Pacifism."
Unfortunately, the Dramatic Club notes are too late for publication in this issue of the "Spike," but next issue will see a full account of Club activities since last year. Owing to the Tournament and the Extravaganza, meetings of the Club have been suspended for a term. This condition of affairs, however, has been merely temporary, and regular readings are commencing again almost immediately.
This season the Rifle Club did not commence operations until the end of January, but subsequent fine Saturday afternoons saw members journeying out to Trentham by the 12.15 train. of course, the membership has not, so far, been large, but it is now over 30 and is steadily growing in preparation for next season. The Club has been carefully examined by the powers-that-be and finally gazetted as a Defence Rifle Club, so that we can now take our rightful place among the rifle clubs of Wellington.
On February 16 the Club entered a team for the Wellington Rifle Association Junior Shield Contest, and succeeded in gaining third place-quite a good performance for Wellington's youngest rifle club.
In this year's tournament our luck was out, but next year we are going to put up a big fight for the Haslam Shield.
When the Special Service Squadron was in Wellington, a rifle match was arranged between the naval men and a representative team from the local rifle clubs, Victoria's two representatives being Pres. W. J. H. Haase and J. B. Yaldwyn. Despite the miserable weather, the shoot proved a great success and an easy win for the local team.
The Club Championship match was held on April 12, and was won by Pres. W. J. Haase with a brilliant 112 out of 120, A. W. Free being runner up with 102.
During the winter a team is to be entered for the Imperial Universities Rifle Match, in which a shield, presented by the Australian Universities, is competed for by Universities throughout the Empire. It is hoped next year to enter one team from the four Colleges in New Zealand, but this year each College will enter a separate team.
At the annual general meeting of the Students' Association the Blazer Scheme was amended to include the Rifle Club, and accordingly the following members have been nominated by the Club for blazers this year:—
During the past year the "Noble Art" has continued to maintain its proud place amongst the leading branches of sport at the College. Training operations for the Easter Tournament were entered upon in January, and carried on right up to Easter.
One lamentable feature this year, however, has been the lack of enthusiasm displayed by the younger members of the Club. And this is especially unfortunate at the present time, as of the previous boxing representatives at least four will be ineligible to represent the College next year. With these vacancies to fill from entirely fresh material in the College, it is up to as many students as are able to join the Club, so that a strong team can be selected to send to Christchurch next Easter.
Although the bulk of training for the Easter Tournament is put in from January onwards, if the numbers and enthusiasm of the members warrant it, it is intended to continue training operations through the balance of the second term into the third term of this year. Boxing has of late years been steadily coming to the fore in the realm of sport, and is now a feature of the sporting life of almost every secondary school of any standing. The College has the services of one of the best coaches in New Zealand, and an exceptional opportunity is here offered to get tuition in the art.
In connection with the selection of the team to represent the College at Easter, there was only one challenge, which was in the middle-weight class, the challenger being S. E. Baunie, and the fight with Miller, the present champion, was held in the College Gymnasium on the evening of Wednesday, 9th April. The fight was an interesting one, Baume using his reach effectively against his more sturdily built oppoinent during the first three rounds. By the fourth round, however, he had tired considerably, and Miller gained a very close decision.
The men selected to represent the College at the Easter Tournament
It was found before the Tournament that Wilby was, owing to a technical objection, ineligible to represent. Of the remainder of the team, Coningham won in his weight, and is to be heartily congratulated
This year a new departure has been made by the Club. The Executive of the Students' Association has granted a sum of money to found a Library in connection with the Club, and this money is being expended in the purchase of a few standard works on boxing, which are being made available for the use of members.
We are now well on in what is in many respects a memorable year for what with Jubilee celebrations, tournaments, the visit of the World's Student Christian Federation Travelling Secretary (Mr. Hurrey), and our unusually full programme of retreats, one-day conferences, social teas, and such-like, we have had a busy time.
A most enjoyable retreat was held at Day's Bay just before the commencement of last term. The stimulating effect of this "preparatory effort" has been most noticeable, for we have decided to try the combined circles, which are admitted by other centres to be desirable but unworkable. So far, these have been a success, but they have as yet not reached our ideals, and we hope and pray for greater achievements in the near future.
A men's week-end was held in connection with the visit of our N.Z.S.C.M. Secretary (Mr. H. J. Mackie), about the middle of last term. This camp brought from under the bushel the hidden light of many of our members, some of whom made the discovery that a C.U. retreat is something more than a cloistered seclusion from "worldly things."So delicate were the preparations for ministering to the needs of the inner man that many of us would find it very hard to "take no thought for the morrow, saying what shall ye eat or what shall ye drink."
The value of such a visit as that of Mr. Hurrey cannot be estimated. Many of us feel that we have actually had "our sight renewed," for we have been given in every way a newer, brighter, and higher outlook: we now see and know something of what our fellow-students are doing the world over. So helpful and inspiring did we find our "Yank friend," as he called himself, that we look forward with the greatest of pleasure to the assured visits of such men as Dr. Willis King, Mr. Koo, Dr. Eddie, and numerous others of that great band of W.S.C.F. Secretaries.
Another factor which we feel is helping to make the spiritual tone of our Union is the weekly intercession group, which is run for about twenty minutes by one of our own members.
We are in deep debt to Mr. M. A. Tremewan for again conducting our leaders' circle, and to Miss England for her willingness to take the Sunday morning O.T. Bible Study Circle.
Great enthusiasm has been raised in many quarters of late by the founding of a Social Service Club, from which we hope great things."Be ye doers of the Word and not hearers only."
The study circles are again working on "Jesus in the Records," but many of us are dissatisfied with their results, and trust that members in the future will make their search for truth more earnest and diligent.
Next year's Conference is to be held at Cambridge or thereabouts; to this we are looking forward with some enthusiasm, as we did for Waimate, waiting to be again refreshed and to meet our old friends in the other centres.
We express our most heartfelt thanks to our friend, Mr. G. S. Troup, M.A., whom we farewelled last term on the event of his departure to the Old Country. While extremely sorry to lose such a good and trusted friend, we are equally glad to be able to welcome back another old friend, the Rev. John Allan, M.A., who has just successfully completed his studies at New College, Edinburgh. We wish them both the best of luck and success in their future careers.
We wish to thank all fast friends among old students and Professors for the help they have given us during the year, and to assure our "old timers" that we are endeavouring to do our best to live up to the high traditions which they have set before us.
This year promises to be a successful one for the Mathematical and Physical Society. The attendances at the meetings and the interest aroused appear to be greater than in previous years. Moreover, the popularity of the Society will be much increased by the generous offer of Professors Sommerville and Florance to provide supper after each meeting, so that the discussion of problems raised at the meetings may be continued in an informal manner.
It was decided, on the Physical side, to have a series of addresses on the structure of the atom. At the first meeting, which was chiefly introductory, Mr. L. A. C Warner spoke on "Radio-activity and Its Bearing on the Atom," giving an account of the radioactive substances and the three types of rays and their properties. Professor Florance, in "Aspects of Sir Ernest Rutherford's Work," gave an account of the historical side of the subject, and also a brief sketch of Rutherford's work.
At the second meeting Mr. L. Shotlander gave an account of the various attempts to prove Euclid's parallel posulate, and Professor Sommerville explained the systems of non-euclidean geometry which have arisen out of these attempts. The meeting then adjourned to the Physics laboratory for supper, where Mrs. Sommerville acted as hostess.
Shortly before our second meeting the Society suffered a sad loss in that our President, Miss E. D. Leech, left us to take up a position at the Stratford High School. Mr. M. McWilliams was elected to fill the vacant position.
The Tennis Season opened last year, or at least did not open, with a serious calamity. There were plenty of anxious players, and plenty of racquets, balls, and nets, but unfortunately there were no courts. The contractor engaged to top dress the courts was possessed of the "go-slow" policy to an extraordinary degree. Despite numerous entreaties and threats by various members of the Club, our none-too-hasty contractor did not finish the work until well into the month of November. Then there was the serious problem of marking the courts. Many thanks are due to Mr. C. G. S. Ellis, who, with his knowledge of surveying, was able to determine the extremities of the courts to a nicety. A busy gang of workers was collected, and the work was completed in a few days. Alas! Our troubles were not then over. The supposed and alleged top-dressing was of a most unusual nature. It consisted of the usual tar, but instead of sand our "go slow" friend had used fine shingle and sand. The result was that millions of small pebbles wore off the upper surface of the courts and formed minute roller skates, on which the unfortunate players would go skating in all directions in a most bewildering manner. The "spills" were numerous, so numerous, in fact, that many players contemplate giving up the game and taking on some quieter and more harmless game, such as football, in which one has a soft ground to fall on at least, and not a rockery. However, after some of the energetic members had brushed the loose shingle off our supposed tennis courts about two or three times, the courts at last became playable.
Inter-club matches this year were displaced by a new idea of a Wellington Association Ladder, on which each Club had a certain number of representatives. On the ladies' ladder Miss Gardner just missed representative honours for the match, Wellington v. Canterbury, while on the men's ladder R. R. Young and N. A. Foden were successful in climbing a number of rungs.
Our own ladder has been very keenly contested this season by the men players. R. R. Young has succeeded in holding first place on the ladder during the season, defeating last year's champion, W. P. Rollings.
W. P. Hollings has not been playing in his best form this season, partly due to the fact that he was studying for the March Exams, during the latter part of the season and failed to keep in good training.
F. H. Paul was very successful on the ladder, climbing many rungs, and was only stopped by W. P. Hollings in a match for second place. Paul is the most improved player in the Club this year, and well deserved his place in the Tournament Team.
Although the men's ladder has been keenly contested, the ladies has remained practically the same throughout the season. It is only on very
The Club Championships witnessed some good tennis. The biggest surprise was the defeat of R. R. Young by F. H. Paul in the final of the Men's Singles.
The finals were as follows:—
Men's Singles.—F. H. Paul defeated R. R. Young, 6—4, 8—6.
Men's Doubles.—R. and M. Young defeated Ellis and Paul, 6—4, 7—5.
Ladies' Doubles.—Misses R. Gardner and E. Madeley defeated Misses T. Thwaites and O. Sheppard, 7—5, 8—6.
Combined Doubles.—R. R. Young and Miss Whyte defeated C. Scott and Miss R. Gardiner, 6—3, 6—4.
The Ladies' Singles were not finished, owing to the disinclination of the contestants to play off.
The Otaki Tennis Club kindly invited a team to play them at Otaki on St. Andrew's Day. Messrs. R. Young, N. A. Foden, W. P. Rollings, M. C. Gibb, F. H. Haigh, D. F. Stuart, J. Stewart, and C. E. Scott, together with Misses M. Tracy and A. Madeley, accordingly journeyed up to Otaki. After defeating the Otakians and spending a most enjoyable day, marred only by an unfortunate disaster that befell the Secretary in distributing the train tickets and obtaining the cash there for, the team returned home in high spirts.
We were fortunate in obtaining Miss M. Tracy for a tournament representative, and, as expected, she won the N.Z. Universities Championships. It is the first time we have won a singles event for many years.
On the whole the members have not been very keen during the past season, and the courts were seldom crowded. This is attributed to the facts that tennis throughout Wellington has been quiet this season owing to the absence of the inter-club competitions, and that the courts have been in a poor condition. Nevertheless, the season has been a merry one, and those who did play passed many bright hours on the courts and in the "teashop," excepting, of course, those whose turn it was to "wash up."
Next season is expected to be more enthusiastic. Especially so owing to the possibility of the completion of the Miramar scheme, which will provide 60 or 70 courts for interclub competitions. The probability of a busy season is all the more strong because of the fact that under the new Students' Association Consolidated Fund scheme membership of the Tennis Club has increased from 80 to over 120 since March of this year.
Let us hope that next season will see the awakening of a new enthusiasm among the members and the rising of some new champions to make a name for our Club.
The Basketball Club, which has for some years past been a source of amusement to the more prosperous Clubs of V.U.C., is this year a very enthusiastic and active Club. Although we as a club are not as strong numerically as we might be—and we take this opportunity of saying that all women members of the Students' Association can become Basket-ballers—yet we have some excellent and very keen players.
This year we have two teams in the Wellington Basket-ball Association, one in the Senior Grade and one in the Intermediate. The Senior team has so far been very successful in the Saturday matches. On June 3rd, in the Seven-a-side Tournament, the Senior team were runners-up, being defeated only by the Y.W.C.A. A team. We shall hear more of the Seniors as the season advances.
A victory to the credit of V.U.C. was the winning of the Shield at Easter time. Basket-ball is not an official part of the Inter-'Varsity Tournament, but the Clubs are allowed to make their own arrangements to play off for the Shield at the same time. Since the play at Easter was of an excellent standard, we have hopes of seeing Basketball a recognised part of the Tournament in the near future.
On Monday evenings, from 8 to 9 p.m., we have the use of the Gymnasium to practise. This is a good opportunity to get in some really beneficial training, and we would urge upon members the necessity of turning up regularly to these practices. "Practice makes perfect" should be our motto if we hope to do anything realty worth while.
"Afoot and lighthearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose." —Walt Whitman.
One sometimes wonders, not that so many go tramping, but that so few do. The joys of the road are many, and surely are well known by now. There is hardly a poet or an essayist who has not expounded" the cheerful voice of the public road," or grown lyrical over the surpassing beauty that surrounds the hill-track or the trail through the bush.
The tramper, knowing their words are true, goes out free and light hearted, the world before him. But what of those who feel the call, yet fail to answer? Is this restraint mere lassitude? Or is it because they doubt their ability? The one is weak, the other foolish; trampers are no supermen, nor their tramps endurance trials. Long tramps are under-taken, but they are arranged in easy stages. Thus, the most noteworthy tramps since last "Spike" appeared were those that filled the long week-ends of Dominion, Labour, and Anzac Days.
On the Saturday before Dominion Day a large party set out on the "Wairongomai Trip," past the Wainui Reservoir and Semple's tunnel. As on the previous occasion, this route proved to have some peculiar charm that makes it stand out from all other tramps. It may be the exceptional variety of beautiful scenery, or the abundance of wild life, or the excellent camping rounds on the river flats—or the combination of these and other things: certainly, the Wairongomai trip is always recalled with special pleasure.
This route has been followed for the last time, unfortunately; the new waterworks reserve is closed to trampers. With some changes in the earlier part of the trip, though, the Wairongomai itself is still available.
The most ambitious of all Club tramps till that time was probably the Labour Day weekend. Some fifty miles of walking were involved, over every type of country—road, bush track, trackless bush, and riverbed. Included in the route were two crossings of the Rimutakas; the first, by Matthews Saddle, was interesting enough, but hot to be compared with the second traverse, made by map and compass near Bau Bau trig. Ours was probably the first party since the early surveyors to cross those bushy ridges; certainly, no women had gone through there before.
After the Exams., a new Tararua route was tried, but it is not recommended for people in a hurry. The party went to Alpha from Kaitoke, via Marchant; next day descended a long ridge to Renata, and then turned northwards to the Waiotauru stream. About eight miles was the reward of a twelvehour day. The journey next day down the Waiotauru to Otaki Forks was better rewarded; there was splendid river scenery and abundance of wild life.
Later in the Long Vacation a larger party made the complete journey over the Tararua track; fortunate in having fine weather, they had a most successful trip.
The conquest of Mount McKerrow was a very satisfactory beginning for the weekend tramps of
When Anzac Day and the College Council conspired to lengthen the Easter Vacation, a number of trampers took advantage of this to go around Palliser Bay, in order to see the Putangirua Pinnacles. Although the country covered was not in general difficult, the distance was considerable, and time was too short for all to reach the Pinnacles. Those who did, however, were well rewarded. As only one tributary of the Putangirua stream was examined, and there are a number of others with similar rock pillars, the whole valley will some day, we hope, be explored by the Club.
During the Long Vacation a party of Club members spent an exceptionally enjoyable (and cheap) holiday in the Tongariro-Taupo district. Ruapehu was climbed, and all the lesser mountains. There was a lengthy stay at Tokaanu; a visit to Wairakei; a beautiful bush track past Roto Aira; everything, in fact, to make a holiday memorable.
Since last September there have been shorter tramps, too many to enumerate; but attendance on Sunday tramps, considering the membership
We hear that—
The French for "little pig" is "tomahawk."
There will be a Winter Tararua Trip at the end of the term—for those who are fit.
Several of this term's week-end trips would be Sunday tramps in summer time.
To the chemist the reaction between Fe and Kid gives Venison.
The wind (?) at Burling's Creek levelled a tent with the ground. And that porridge and sausages took wings.
A certain fowlhouse at the mouth of the Orongorongo is a draughty place on a cold night.
On the authority of an expert biologist, tramping is fine training for the more strenuous sports, such as jazzing.
A number of "members" have not yet been out on a tramp. And that the easier tramps often occur in the first half of the term's programme.
A recent wedding was extremely "well organised;" and that the happy couple outdid Tom Mix in escaping to the taxi.
During the Long Vac. empty pineapple tins were deposited on the summits of Ruapehu, Ngauruhoe, Tongariro, Hauhangatahi, and Hector. And that anyone who carries a fifteen-pound halfplate camera and tripod up the slippery slopes of the sliding scoria of Ngauruhoe must be keen.
It is never too late to begin; the secretary still has some blank application forms.
Since two prominent debaters came to grief early one morning—one crashing physically, the other verbally—week-end tramps have been arranged so as not to interfere with debates.
The most philosophical of philosophers can forget his philosophy at 2 a.m. And that certain vocabularies have been enlarged by a luscious word.
Tramping parties are desired to leave gates as they find them, but shut for preference; and not to extract staples from fence-posts.
The ambitious mountaineer can get good practice on the steel towers of the power-line beyond Ngahauranga.
One of Semple's Coops. wouldn't mind chaperoning any number of parties at seven-and-six an afternoon.
If you keep to the left in Orongo-orongo, you are bound in the end to go wrong, go wrong. For it's a wrong creek that has no turning, yet among a multitude of nodules is a botanist.
Wellington weather has this year excelled itself; but despite the fact that so far we have had only one fine Saturday, all players have turned out and thoroughly enjoyed the mud fights which have been the order of the day. Although none of the four teams entered have done exceptionally well, the Senior team has been very unlucky, and should have won four out of its five matches to date. The committee has this year decided to give every encouragement to the Juniors, and hopes to raise the standard of play by creating keen competition.
Fitness and combination are the two chief factors which lead to success in football, and it is most unfortunate that we have so few facilities for training, and so little opportunity of working up combination. However, the fine sporting game for which 'Varsity has become famed is always in evidence wherever 'Varsity teams assemble, and if success does not always come our way it is not from want of trying.
The retirement of Albert Jackson from active participation in the game has robbed the playing field of one of its most familiar figures. Percy Bryden, who for two years has been a most energetic secretary, as well as a most conscientious forward in the Senior team, has also retired this year, and will mean a big loss to the Club.
The Senior fifteen is this year captained by A. D. McRae, who has represented Wellington and the New Zealand Universities for the last two years, and who is again playing as well as ever. On the whole, the team
V. Selwyn. Lost—8 to 6. Played in pouring rain, which did not suit our style of play. However, 'Varsity were very unlucky to lose on the trend of the play. Riggs scored a good try and Blathwayte kicked a penalty goal for us.
V. Old Boys. Won—15 to 4. Our men, both backs and forwards, played a great game, and the score might easily have been greater. Riggs, Walpole, and Britland scored tries, one being converted by McKay, and Wiren potted a fine goal.
V. Poneke. Lost—18 to 0. Another very bad day, on which Poneke were superior, both back and forward.
V. Berhampore. Lost—5 to 3. This game proved a great fight in the mud, and Berhampore were very lucky to snatch a last-minute victory, scoring as the final whistle was blown. Hart scored for us.
V. Hutt. Won—15 to 6. A fast and exciting game, which was sternly contested. Riggs, Mackay, and Pope scored tries, and O'Regan kicked two fine penalty goals.
V. Poneke. Lost—12 to 0. Our team was short, but put up a good fight in the mud.
V. Hutt. Lost—14 to 8, Hutt were a vastly-improved team to that defeated by the B's the previous Saturday. Leadbetter scored two fine tries.
V. Eastbourne. Lost—11 to 0. Eastbourne owed their victory to their combination, which was very good.
V. Training College. Drawn—3 all. Training College put up a good fight, and a hard game resulted. Goodwin scored for us.
V Porirua. Lost—15 to 8. The Porirua backs showed good form, and were instrumental in bringing victory to their team. Goodwin and Ellis scored tries, and Stewart converted one.
V. Marist Lost—16 to 3. Marist were a little too good for our men. Stewart kicked a penalty goal.
V. Hutt. Won—9 to nil. Played in pouring rain, with only 12 men, but backs played a fine game. Goodwin, Arndt, and McParland scored tries.
V. Eastbourne. Lost—23 to 3. Again only 12 men turned out, but our men made a fight of it. Davies scored a try.
V. Training College. Won by default.
V. Porirua. Lost—16 to nil. A good, even game, with the Porirua backs a little better than their opponents.
V. Marist. Lost—34 to 3. The Marist backs were too good for our men, who were short. McParland scored a brilliant try.
V. Oriental. Lost—8 to 3. Our team was unfortunate, as two men had to retire injured. Kells scored a good try.
V. Athletic. Lost—17 to nil.
V. Institute. Won by default.
V. Old Boys A. Lost—22 to nil.
V. Technical Old Boys. Lost—8 to nil.
A Junior seven-a-side team, captained by P. M. Brooker, competed in the Palmerston North Tournament on the King's Birthday, and after winning two games were eliminated in the semi-final by a Feilding team. The team played good football, and McParland played brilliantly, scoring five tries.
This season the Cricket Club has had a most successful season—the best since the end of the war. Although there were sufficient members to justify the entrance of only two teams, nevertheless these teams showed such good form that the prospects for next season are indeed of the best.
The first eleven was successful in winning the Junior A Championship—the first championship that has ever been won by a 'Varsity cricket team. They played eight games, all of which were won with the exception of the game against Porirua, which was lost on the first innings, we being unfortunate in losing the toss. We obtained 26 championship points, the runners
We played our annual match with Auckland University College at Easter, and came out the winners of the Speight trophy by an innings and 267 runs.
The second eleven, though not so successful as the first, performed creditably, and it is hoped that the conditions under which junior teams play will be improved next season. It is our aim to enter three, and f possible four, teams next season, and the Committee takes this opportunity of exhorting all students to join up with the "king of games." Every endeavour is being made for entrance into senior ranks, and if this is successful the Club should become stronger every season. Join up, then, and help the Club to regain its pre-war status.
The match against Auckland University was played on Easter Saturday and Tuesday at Kelburn Park. We were favoured with warm summer weather, and Auckland, having won the toss, elected to bat first. Wickets fell fairly cheaply at the start, but Sutherland played a good innings, and improved the score. When Wilson was put on, he found his length at once, and quickly disposed of the rest of the side, the innings closing for 76. Wilson bowled very well, keeping a great length with his leg-breaks and googlies and clean bowling four men. Hollings and Greig also bowled well.
Hollings and Evans opened our innings, and Evans' wicket fell at 25. Kent and Greig batted well during their stays, while Hollings was scoring in great style at the other end. When Mackenzie became associated with Hollings a great stand was made, which added 103 runs to our score. Hollings was eventually out at 136, after a fine innings, in which he scored freely all round the wicket. When stumps were drawn Mackenzie was not out for a patient 50.
When play was resumed, Mackenzie hit out in great style, and added 83 to his score in a little over an hour, mainly by beautiful cuts and off-drives. Hain and Mellins batted well, and Wilson scored quickly off the tired bowling. Our innings eventually closed for 405.
In the second innings Auckland batted three short, owing to the railway strike, and were quickly disposed of for 62, leaving us winners by an innings and 267 ruuns. Greig secured most wickets, and was well supported by Hollings. Mackenzie kept wickets very well all through the match.
By this victory we secured possession of the bat presented by Mr. Speight. We are looking forward to defending it in Auckland next season.
The following are the detailed scores:—
v. Institute: Won by 109 runs. Varsity—1st innings, 126; 2nd innings, 135. Institute—60 and 92.
v. Thorndon: Won by 263 runs. Varsity—1st innings, 231; and 282 for 4 wickets (declared). Thorndon—171 and 79.
v. Porirua; Lost by 35 runs on the 1st innings. Varsity—1st innings, 89; and 118 for 8 wickets. Porirua—124 and 175.
v. Petone: Won by 9 wickets. With 20 minutes in which to make the 63 runs required for victory, Wilson and Anderson treated Petone to some leatherhunting, making the runs with five minutes to spare. A feature of the match was a good century by Kent. Varsity, 283. Petone, 97 and 248,
V. Selwyn: Won by 78 runs on the 1st innings. This was one of our hardest games, our opponents up to this game being leaders in the championship. Owing to catches in the slips by Hollings and Wiren, two of our most redoubtable opposers were dismissed cheaply. The fielding of the team was nothing short of marvellous, Selwyn being decidedly frightened of attempting anything but sure runs. Varsity, 193 and 168. Selwyn, 115 and 136 for four wickets.
v. Kilbirnie: Won by 80 runs on the 1st innings. This was the final of the championship. We lost the toss, but they sent us to bat. We batted practically the whole afternoon on a very sticky wicket, and compiled 204 by necessarily slow cricket. At one stage we had 4 for 142, but the tail refused to wag, At the close of the day our opponents had 0 for 10. On resuming next Saturday, the wicket was very sodden, favouring the bowlers. Our opponents' score went up; at one time it was 3 for 75 Excitement was intense until Hollings had two men caught, and Wiren finished off the final two, giving us a lead of 80 runs. Although a completed two innings game was out of the Question, we batted again, and occupied the crease until time was called. Our fielding was again excellent, although not quite so accurate as against Selwyn. Varsity, 204. Kilbirnie, 124.
The following were the best averages for the season:—
This Club has added another very successful year to its age, and can easily claim itself to be one of the chief summer clubs of the College. A few years back the Club was weak numerically, and the quality of its members was comparatively poor; but now, thanks in a large measure to the efforts of its Club Captain, Mr. H. McCormick, it can now hold its own with any other Athletic Club in the Dominion.
The annual inter-faculty sports were held at Athletic Park on April 5th, in anything but ideal weather. In spite of the rain, which fell all the afternoon, some good performances were registered, and in three events new records were established, namely, the 120 yards, R. W. Lander (a first-year student), 16 35 sees.; L. A. Tracy, the 100 yards, 10 2-5 secs., and 220 yards, 22 45 secs. The Oram Cup for the most points gained by a competitor was tied for by D. Priestly and L. A. Tracy, who each secured three wins. The latter also won the Graduates' Cup for the best performance on the day.
Against the other Wellington Clubs, the Club can be proud of its record. The Club was second equal in the McVilly Shield competition, and second in the John Dewar Imperial Challenge Shield Competition. It should be pointed out that in the Provincial Championships the Club members easily obtained the most points in the track events, but did not have the field event men in support.
At the annual Inter-University Tournament, the College gained second place in Athletics. All the members of the team were members of the College Club, and can be proud of their performances. The College, it can be said, was unfortunate in not winning. It should be the aim of all College athletes to do their best for next Easter, and strive to win the Athletic Shield.
Special mention must be made of the Club's relay team, the present holder of the Heenan Baton, which is a baton for competition over the one mile relay race between Clubs in the Canterbury and Wellington Provinces. The Club won the Baton early in the season, and stalled off all challengers. The relay team also defeated the teams representing the other three Universities. The Club can easily claim to have the premier club relay team in the Dominion. The following were the members of the relay team during the year:—A. D. Priestly (880 yards), C. W. Davies (440 and 880 yards), M. Lead better (220 yards), H. G. Whitehead (220 yards), F. S. Hill (220 yards), and L. A. Tracy (440 yards and 220 yards).
The Club has members who have during the past season held their own successfully against champions from all over the Dominion, and have gained the following honours:—
L. A. Tracy: Represented N.Z. at the Australasian Championships at Hobart. Won the 440 yards Australasian Championship, gained second place in 220 yards.
Won 100 yards, 220 yards, and 440 yards, Canterbury Prov. Champs.
Won 220 yards and 440 yards, Wellington Provincial Championships.
Won 220 yards New Zealand Championship. Won 220 yards and 440 yards N.Z. University Championships. He established new or equalled existing records in the following events:—
A. D. Priestley: Won 880 yards, 1 mile and 3 miles Interfaculty Champ., 1 mile and 3 miles N.Z. University Champ., and established the following record:—
1 mile N.Z. University Record, 4 mins. 31 4-5 secs.
K. M. Griffin: Won 880 yards Auckland Interfaculty Championship, and gained 2nd place in 1 mile Auckland Inter-faculty Championship and 1 mile N.Z. University Championship.
M. Leadbetter: Won 100 yards Wellington Provincial Championship, and gained 2nd place in 440 and 220 yards Inter-faculty Championships.
R. W. Lander: Won 120 yards and 440 yards Hurdles Inter-faculty Championships and 120 yards N.Z. Championship, and established a new record in 120 yards V.U.C. Championship,-16 3-5 secs.
S. G. Mcintosh: Was selected to represent New Zealand at the Australasian Championships, but was unable to make the trip. Won 1 mile and 3 miles Walks, Wellington Provincial Championships; 3 miles Walk. New Zealand Championship; 1 mile Walk, Interfaculty Championship; and gained second place in 1 mile New Zealand Championship.
The Club's congratulations go out to the above members, but more especially to the following, who were responsible for the Club winning every "B"Grade Championship competed for during the season:—
F. S. Hill on winning 220 yards Wellington Provincial "B" Grade Championship.
C. B. Allen on winning 440 yards Wellington Provincial "B" Grade Championship.
R. C. Christie on winning 880 yards Wellington Provincial "B" Grade Championship.
Sir,—Last Monday evening a large body of men and women (whose age, I suppose, averaged somewhere about twenty-one) gathered together in the Gym. to discuss the question of a guarantee for the proposed visit of a Debating Team from the Oxford Union. I need not recall to you the fact that the meeting was packed in the most obvious and unblushing fashion. That, however, is the usual thing.
The following motion was brought forward:—
Moved by Mr. Nicholls, seconded by Mr. Brooker:
"Provided that the motion or motions for debate between the Oxford Debaters and any team representing the V.U.C. Debating Society shall be such subjects for the argument of which it shall not be necessary or probable that both or either of the opposing teams of debaters shall have to advocate, speak in favour of, or favourably comment upon any matter or principle savouring of Bolshevism, Socialism, extreme labour, or the like, or involve the making or upholding of any disloyal or seditious acts, utterances or sentiments; subject however to this and this only qualification that if it is found impossible to arrange for debate as described, then and in such a case the team or teams of debaters representing the V.U.C. Debating Society shall speak only for that side of the motion which does not involve advocating, speaking in favour of, or commenting upon any matter or principle savouring of Bolshevism, Socialism, extreme labour, or the like, or involving the making or upholding of any disloyal or seditious acts, utterances, or sentiments; provided further that all the motions to be debated shall be subject to the approval of the Executive of the Students' Association, who shall decide whether or not they infringe the spirit of this motion."
This farrago of long-winded and ill-digested nonsense was subsequently dropped in favour of an amendment that the approval of subjects should be left to the Executive of the Students Association.
I do not wish to enlarge on the merits or otherwise of the movement that is in progress, of which the above motion is apparently the first shot to be fired. No doubt the dull reverberations, like those of other famous events, will go muttering into eternity. I understand, from the utterances of the mover and seconder and their devoted band of followers—the parallel with Signor Mussolini and his black-shirted band of melodramatic heroes is too obvious to be missed—that they are highly dissatisfied with the tone of
So far so good. It is not for me to throw unworthy doubts on any man's reasoned convictions, so reasonably expressed. But what I do protest against, and very vigorously, is the newspaper reports of the meeting that appeared next morning. As there were no reporters present, these reports can only have come from one source. That in the "Times," though ridiculously garnitured and festooned, was in substance correct. That in the "Dominion," on the contrary, contained statements directly contrary to fact. I pass over the question of the ethics of the report in itself. How far private students are justified in handing to the press reports of College proceedings may be a moot point; Messrs. Nicholls, James and Brooker may find their justification in the fact that the report was garbled. I note here three examples of this garbling:—
"Speaking on behalf of the Association, Messrs. Nicholls and James both emphasised that the minds of the public,"etc.It was decided that immediate steps be taken to assure the public that no such trend of thought existed amongst the students."
I hold no brief in this letter for the Debating Society, the first of what I may perhaps call the intellectual clubs of the College to be made the object of this curious attack. The members of the Society who are evidently the object of the attack have both convictions and courage, although they may find a certain difficulty in defending themselves against a rabble that has neither the brains to come to any reasoned conviction, nor, I dare hazard, the courage to maintain one against the weight of a conservative public opinion.
But if reports must be handed to the newspapers of such meetings as this one, surely it may be expected that students will abide by the truth, or at least refrain from wilful distortion. Victoria
"Speaking on behalf of the Association"—the Stud. Ass. must indeed be proud of its new representatives.
There is a constitutional way, Sir (so much admired by the representatives of law and order), of reforming the tone of the College. That is to join the offending clubs, and by strength of personality, by process of clear thought, by overmastering weight of argument, to bear down opposition. It is a process for which the "Spike" has been appealing for some time now. It is a change in the policy of the student body which would be welcomed, not by the "Spike" alone. I hesitate to recommend the writings of John Milton to Messrs. Nicholls and James; though regarded with some admiration now, he was, I remind them, once proscribed as a dangerous revolutionary. I am reluctant to quote so hackneyed a sentence as
"And though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously, by licensing and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?"
I doubt whether quotation carries any weight. And I doubt if the change, so earnestly hoped for, will take place. Direct Action, noise, misrepresentation, is so much quicker, so much more exciting. Your Mussolinis are the only true prophets. We will maintain our College's integrity with noise. We will trample Truth in the mud, for by a singular paradox (I fancy Messrs. Nicholls and James are saying), it is by this method, speedy and infallible, that she will prevail. This is the New Evangel. The Prophets of God have embarked on their ministry.
Sir, be so good as to pardon the length of this letter.