The Daily News. WEDNESDAY, MAY 10, 1911. SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIII, Issue 297, 10 May 1911, Page 4

The Daily News. WEDNESDAY, MAY 10, 1911. SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE.

Impatient of empty ceremonial and expensive celebrations is a good sign. Lately a southern mayor, who lias been much advertised as a result, refused to undergo the installation champagne celebration that belonged to him by right of precedent, and has said that the money that would have been spent in saying what a good fellow he was will be expended on books for the people. New tio'ns, and a great deal too much importance is attached to banquets and "sprees" of all kinds. In times past the State desired to be very definitely patted pn the back each time it did its duty in erecting a building, a bridge, a stretch' of railway, or any public convenience. Recalling the opening of a State building will, perhaps, illustrate the democratic nature of these festivities. The State already had its workers in the new building before it was "opened." The State carefully locked the front door with a common key in order that the State's chief notability might use his expensive gold one on it. The people—that is, the common herd who had paid for the building, the key, and, the numerous cases'of champagne inside that sacred door—craned their necks to see over the constables' helmets. Anyone not wearing a silk hat was .majestically frowned out of the charmed circle. The function, the great, glorious, democratic

function, the recherche meal, and the product of old Franco, were shared only by the carefully selected few deemed nice enough for such an honor. The people who paid, of course, faded away to their common mutton chops and plebeian steaks, wearing eighteenpenny caps and ready-made trousers. They were permitted to do. business in their building when the last silk hat and distended white waistcoat had been carefully piloted down the marble steps. It was, like so many later functions, a delightful commentary on the democratic tendency of a country where all are equal, and a hobnail boot is as worthy a foot covering as a patent leather dress shoe. The idea that a New Zealand bridge is not strong enough to carry traffic until a weary politician shores it up with the girders of a speech is a little pathetic. How could a railway ever wary anything 'unless a Minister drove a silvered spike and was overfed afterwards? Could a navvy "turn the first sod" of a public park when there was a tired notability available by special train? No, sir! It would lie impossible. Admitting the picturesqueness of expeasive ceremony, much of it is as useful as trying to level Mount Egmont with a pocket knife. The State loves ceremony, presumably because the people love it too. It calls on the resources of the State cellars to welcome a field marshal or a team of footballers. It makes glowing speeches to travelling showmen in the presence of a few nabobs, mainly to show how democratic New Zealand is —but the democracy is not invited. The

democracy can buy its penny paper next day and read all about it. Lately some of the biggest warships that have ever been built have been allowed to slide into the water without the blessing of a duke or the waste of a bottle of wine. The nations will watch with breathless interest the fate of vessels not fortified with flummery. Six weeks ago, when a great vessel was launched Sir George Reid was not within two hundred miles. Yet the launch was successful. In a country where a creamery finds it difficult to do its separating until an eminent person has memorised readily available information and fired it off on the winds of heaven, such a neglect could not occur. On the whole, it is unnecessary or public men to tell us what fine people we are, because we know. It is also not essential that the country should be in a constant ferment of compliment about common happenings and normal men. Our undertakings are useful for their utility, and not for purposes of fuss,, and the champagne function at the opening of a city State building is of less importance to the man on the land than the erection of a cowshed. If the man with the cowshed helps to buy expensive meals and reputed champagne for people he never sees, it seems reasonable that the people who never see him should christen his cowshed for him, for'this is an age of reciprocity, brotherly love, democracy, equality and all the rest of it. The trouble and expense we go to to exaggerate minor matters into events of international importance has been fostered by a passion for notoriety. But we must not accuse ourselves of lack of modesty when we bid the limelight man take notice of us, for "we are but children of a larger growth." Still, we seem to be changing. Only a week ago a New Zealand politician at a non-political banquet in the north did not mention politics once. Xot long since a public servant refused a reward over and above his wages, and now we have a mayor who would rather the public read books than a few select should drink the public's champagne. Mr. Craigie, M.P., mayor of Timaru, will surely win both positions again.