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Typo: A Monthly Newspaper and Literary Review, Volume 5

[miscellaneous paragraphs]

A correspondent of an East Coast paper makes known a grievance which deserves attention. He lives some miles inland, and had often told his little ones of the beautiful shells he had seen in great numbers on the beach. When at length a long-promised trip to the coast was arranged, the delight of the young folks was unbounded, and they provided themselves one and all with boxes and other receptacles for the treasures of the sea-shore. But they had a cruel disappointment. « ؟Where are the shells? » was the cry, as they searched the beach in vain. Not a specimen worth picking up was to be seen. Inquiries revealed the fact that a foreigner, a few days before, aided by hired laborers, had stripped the beach for miles. The accumulation of years had disappeared, and large packing-cases filled with the spoil had been shipped away to Europe. The writer pertinently asks: « ؟Must we go to a German museum if we wish to see New Zealand shells? » This is but one form of an increasing grievance. Not only as regards natural productions, but works of Maori art, the European museums possess most of the unique specimens. No one objects to a lover of nature collecting the objects of his studies; but the case is altogether different when a vandal, with mercenary intent, despoils a whole district of one of its characteristic beauties.

At the London booksellers' annual trade dinner, held on the 7th March, Mr J. Murray, jun., presided. In proposing « Literature and Art, » he said that, in the world of letters, there had been none of those violent agitations that had manifested themselves in other fields of industry of late, possibly because publishers and authors occupied some curious and changeable positions. Sometimes one was the employer and sometimes the employee, and if a strike were to set in it would be difficult to know who should begin it first. He expressed a pious wish that authors might strike, for it would give them an admirable opportunity of devoting themselves to literature and study, and would give the publishers a little time to sell the books they brought out, and the readers a chance of looking at what was going on around them. Literature was the most paradoxical of careers. They saw individual authors making larger sums than had ever been known before, and on the other hand, they had the sad sight of greater poverty and distress. There was greater research on individual subjects, and a greater degree of slovenliness; there was keener criticism on all that was published, and yet more worthless productions appeared; there was greater education and less discrimination among the public; books were cheaper than ever, and yet individual books sold for fabulous prices.