South Canterbury Times, TUESDAY, MARCH 1, 1881.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2479, 1 March 1881, Page 2

South Canterbury Times, TUESDAY, MARCH 1, 1881.

The floating-coffin trade is not indigenous to Great Britain. It requires no great stretch of nautical discrimination to perceive that this profitable business leads a prosperous career on the Coast of New Zealand. Occasionally when a row takes place between sailors who dislike being drowned and dare-devil captains,the coffins come in for a mild admonition. At the best, however, they are ungainly, uninteresting looking objects, and as the seamen have rarely wives and families in the colony to make an outcry about their dangers and hardships, they excite but little attention. New Zealand is not favored with a Plimsoll, and thanks to an easy going marine department they have unbounded liberty to swim or sink so long as the rotten planks will stick together. The barque W. C. Wentworth, which sailed from this port on Sunday morning under a slight breeze in tuc forcecastle, was a good illustration of the class of vessels to which we refer. She arrived here a few weeks ago laden with iron-

bark,' consigned to a contractor under the Timaru Harbor Board. It was stated that she had experienced, somewhat rough weather, and that her deck cargo had to be thrown ’overboard, in order to give the other cargo—dead and alive —a chance of surviving the voyage. Bo that as it ma} 7 , the W\ C. Wentworth arrived here in a severely battered condition, tier bulwarks on one side were completely carried away, and altogether her appearance was that of a stranded vessel

that had been buried for a century and'through some occult or miraculous agency had suddenly been brought to the surface. Possibly she may have been seaworthy enough, although her lines and mould indicated her to be a vestige of a long departed era, hut appearances were strangely against her. Many who witnessed her from the Breakwater must have arrived at the

conclusion that she was more fit for a museum of antiquities than active service in the intercolonial trade. So far as we can learn she was not inspected nor were her broken timbers repaired before she put out to sea. Of her condition we know nothing beyond hearsay. But the crew of the Wentworth, who ought to bo tolerably well-informed, at first refused to proceed to sea, maintaining that the barque and her boats were alike unseaworthy, so that in case of mishap their chances of escape were simply nil . The captain expostulated, the men were obdurate, and it was only by obtaining assistance from the shore, weighing anchor, and moving the vessel two miles out to sea that the men were at length prevailed on to risk their lives in a doubtful craft. If it is true, as vve have been informed, that the W. C. Wentworth has attained the age of sixty years ; that her timbers are old and rotten ;

that she is leaky and unseaworthy; that her boats, in case of an emergency, would be useless ; then it is certainly a matter of profound regret that she was allowed to leave this port without a full inspection and inquiry. The lives of seamen are just as valuable as the lives of those on land, and they ought not to be treated as something of less importance than uninsured merchandise. Sixty years may be but a trifling thing to a cathedral, an oak, or in the life of a whale, but it is something in the life of a vessel. A barque that has faced the storms of sixty

years should have fully compensated her owners for their original outlay, and ought to follow the way of all firewood. What, we should like to know, is the use of having supervisors in the colony if barques like the W. C. Wentworth are allowed to trade on the high seas with impunity. Well-found or ill-found, her appearance from the shore was that of a vessel that could scarcely hang together, and which demanded a thorough inspection before again being allowed to proceed to sea with human cargo on board. It seems a singular anomaly that so much attention should be devoted to dead cargo and so little - to the living.

The ironbark logs brought by this vessel have been severely overhauled and a large proportion have been condemned because, it is alleged, they are rotten in the centre. But why did the barque herself’ escape a similar supervision ? Is the timber used lor building our wharves of more importance than the lives of the men who have to face the perils of the ocean in the service of our commerce ? It is a notorious fact that many of

ihe vessels engaged in the intercolonial trade are absolutely unseaworthy. The colonies are gradually becoming a place of refuge for old worn out boats that would not be tolerated in any part of the world where shipping is subjected to a proper supervision. It is to this circumstance that the frequent disputes between crews and their captains is due. And so far from our commerce profiting the game is really a losing one. Seamen, taking the risk they undergo into consideration, demand high wages, insurance companies require high premiums, and the merchant and producer have to pay the piper. If a vessel is lost the lives of the men are of no consequence to the owner, but the loss is none the less, for it is felt over the whole of our commercial arena.

We know it is labor in vain to appeal on humanitarian grounds to those who profit by the traffic in floating coffins, but in "the interests of shippers and consignees, we maintain that while New Zealand is utilised as a receptacle for unseaworthy rubbish, her commerce must necessarily be severely handicapped, and that on strictly commercial grounds, a better supervision of the vessels that ply from port to port in the colonies, is demanded.

When tidings of the Boer revolt in South Africa reached New Zealand a few weeks ago, there was a general shrugging of shoulders on the part of the press. Expressions of sympathy were abundant, but mingled with them were sago predictions that however bad the cause, however reprehensible the process, the British prestige in the Transvaal would have to be maintained, and the sons and daughters of the old Dutch pioneers must and would be subdued. We then expressed the opinion —and we still adhere to it—that the squeezing out of patriotism and independence would bo found a difficult operation. Events have since gone far to confirm this view of the question. The Transvaal is free, the flag of independence has been raised and still waves all over its boundaries, and the cause of the Boers, which is the cause of liberty, is being espoused all over the civilized world—even in England, Scotland, and Ireland— everywhere outside the camp of the British Jingos. The fall of Sir George Colley and the loss of six British companies is a signal blow on the part of the army of emancipation. To rejoice over the death of brave men would be brutal. Although they fought in a bad cause, and perished in an ignoble struggle against human rights, the fault was not their’s, and their fate must be deplored. The brave officers and men who fell during the American war of independence o were in a similarly hapless plight.

In tl.e words of the British admiral they had to do “ their duty,'’ and they did it even to the forfeiture of their lives. Over their ashes a nation has arisen whose rise and progress forms the brightest chapter in the whole world’s history. It is said that the Boers are a slow people. If so the invasion of their rights has stirred them to the quick. Their numerical strength may be inferior, but their strength lies in unity. They know that they are in the right and they are, therefore, thrice armed. Are they not lighting for their lives, their liberties, and their homes? Reverse the position. Were these Boers British settlers, contending for the right of self government, protecting themselves against the foreign burglar who would take that right away from them, what would be the result? Would not the British do-

minions be up in flames? We haveheard something lately of a contingent of fire-eaters from Wellington panting for glory on the plains of New Zealand can spare such men, and if they desire- to sup disaster now is their opportunity, for the thinned ranks of the fallen require to be replenished. The Transvaal, hedged in by a living wall of fire, with every man a soldier and every soldier prepared to die the death of a hero, strong in the sympathy of every lover of national liberty, seems at this ‘moment as impregnable as Gibraltar. Britain may pour her soldiers —her hordes from India—into the trap, but will they return? Let us hope that sensible counsels will prevail, and that with this latest crushing disaster the British Lion’s love of carnage will be satiated, and a further expenditure of valuable lives in a bad cause prohibited.

Heke Bandmanjt took occasion last evening to make some exceedingly cogent and sensible remarks to the children of the Timaru Public school and their parents. He referred to the value of elocution ; not merely as an accomplishment but as an auxiliary to intellectual exercises. The opinion of Herr Bandmann on a subject of this kind is undoubtedly of value, for he is himself one of the grandest elocutionists that has ever trod the colonial stage. He knows the power of elocution, for he has by its exercise thrown a glow into the works of great authors, whereby he has swayed the emotions of crowded audiences. He has clothed the language of the world’s most gifted writers,so often rendered repulsive and corpse-like by unskilled and untutored aspirants,with life and blood; and out of bathos he has produced the most beautiful realisations imaginable. An address, brief but to the point, on the art of elocution, coming from one of its most accomplished exponents cannot be slighted. The entertainment which he gave last evening coupled with his concluding remarks was well calculated to make an impression on the minds of child and adult. He spoke of the disadvantage from which some of the most gifted speakers in the British Parliament suffered. They were excel-

lent speechmakefs, and their words and sentiments were full of vigor and beauty. But they lacked the power of oratory; their utterances were something between a mew and a howl,” and it was painful and exhausting to listen to them. In striking contrast stood such men as Bright. Gladstone, and Lord BeaoonsGeld. They were trained elocutionists —trained in the art of speaking from their earliest years, and their speeches flowed like sweet music, captivating the listener, holding him spell bound, dwarfing the hours of midnight, banishing sleep, and thrilling his inmost thoughts with indescribable pleasure. Herr Band man n spoke from experience regarding the greatest senate in the world, and he impressed on his young hearers the desirability of learning how to open their mouths, and speak, not with an affected simper, but with ease and naturalness. What Herr Bandmann said to the children of Timarn

applies with equal force to the children of the schools of New Zealand generally.

While they are young, apd their faculties are elastic, is the time for cultivating an acquaintance with one of the grandest of all human arts —the art of speaking iluently and reading effectively.