THE WEEK, THE WORLD, AND WELLINGTON.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9150, 24 July 1908, Page 6

THE WEEK, THE WORLD, AND WELLINGTON.

(By Frank Morton.)

The Newspapers and Libel.—Tub Farce op thr Lost Lkader. —A Word on the Pomcb.—Tub Making of Detectives. The week 83 a whole has been somewhat uneventful. Parliament is settling into i\a stride and looking forward to the Auckland jubilations. Thf? Maori Congress has had a good time, without ?ccomplishing anythin": in particular. The bakers' strike bids fair-to become a settled institution, like Island Bay on Sunday afternoons. The rain falls on the evil and and good. I myself got quite wet last Thursday. Parliament, they tell me, has plotted out so much work that it is not at all likely that the session will he as short as sanguine Ministers characteristically predicted at the commencement. The good men for their districts have got in 110 electioneering work to speak of, so far. The big measures that are to be the features of the session have not yet been touched. If Ministers keep faith, that promised amendment of the libel law as it concerns newspapers will cause a lot of debate and take a lot of time. Members as to that will address not merely their constituents but the Press There can be no sort of doubt that the present law governing newspaper libels in this country is abominably one sided and unfair, 'il.e English li.w is strict enough for any reasonable person. We talk of the liberty of the Press, but sitting in the shadow of the Law of Libel the newspapers of New Zealand enjoy less liberty than any others in the Empire The papers of India and Natal have more freedom. In New Zealand, newspapers proprietors lie bound at the mercy of any scurvy rogue who can get any semblance of a grievance against them. The public interest suffers in consequence. The newspapers suffer. It is fully time that things were put on a better and saner footing.

Frank Thornton, perennially young, is with us again. If you like to be glad without capitulation, see him every chance that offers. In a world of solemn humbug few things are more refeshing than honest farce. Thornton is one of the ablest farcical comedians that Australasia ever supported. As the Private Secretary, and as Charley's Aunt, we laugh at him longer ago than it ia pleasant for some of us to remember. He is—what is the old phrase?—funny without being vulgar. His humour is honest and spontaneous. And, another good thing, he is supported by a well-bal-anced and capable company. I'm sick half to death of these shows that consist of one doubtful star and a few grimacing supers. Thornton is too capable a manager to be guilty of any such foolish policy as that. t * * * *

In" this week's menu there is a pleasant side-dish of farce. If you enjoy it as as I have enjoyed it, we shall do very well. Listen, then. Some . months ago, the art corner of Wellington had a severe shock, and the average citizen a taste of new sensation. In the little art-gallery there was a picture by Leader. I have seen better Leaders, and doubtless so have you; but it

was a genuine Leader, and it gave the gallery a certain distinction. Then one Sunday the sensation burst upon us like a bomb of ".otton wool — if such a novelty is thinkable. The art-gallery had been burgled, the Leader cut (quite neatly) from its frame! The one genuine glory had departed, no man knew whither! The burglary had been accomplished with due regard to dramatic effect. Tne key-hole of the gallery had been staffed with paper. A burglar's jemmy was left on the floor, effectively arranged. There was a momentary great disturbance of that little water, the art-world of Wellington. The newspapers were properly shocked at an act of su'ch disgusting vandalism. Conjecture faltered before the mystery. Nobody knew who had the picture, with the exception of the dramatic author immediately responsible. No one else knew anything except the Mayor of Wellington. I beg of you to rejoice with me at the new development of the Honourable Thomas W. Hislop. You shall see him in'your mind's eye lurking like some grave conspirator behind the screen of his seemly beard. He had had an anonymous letter from a person who admitted the burglary, and demanded that the picture should be ransomed. Mr Hislop (who is at all events a humourist) communicated with ■; the police. Need I say that the police accomplished nothing? What shall befal our respectable quietude, if ever the police of Wellington commence to discover things! No. Week slouched sombrely on the heels of week. And still the ransom was demanded. The police sought to entrap the thief; and the thief, from some safe, convenient corner, grinned at the police. Then the thief took to threats. If the ransom was not at once forthcoming, the Leader should be sent out of the Dominion. So Mr Hislop collogued with certain of the charitable of proved discretion, £SO was sent to the burglar, and the picture was restored. There is no telling by what dire oaths Mr Hislop pledged his secrecy; buc even now he admits that there are things he may noL ti.ll. It is enough that the picture is in its place again, and that somebody is the richer by £SO. Around all this singular incident there is a true mediaeval atmosphere. Tne burglar, being a person of intelligence and shrewdness, was safe fruin the outset; but the audacity and coolness of the burglar would seem to have been exceptional. It is all very quaint, and it is all very queer, and there you are. But the naive confession of the utter futility and inadequacy of the police is perhaps the quaintest thing about the whole business. Unless it be a quainter thing that, in face of such damning admission, the public of Wellington smiles simply and sits still. What would have happened, one wonders, if instead of taking the Leader this Mr Kflnsomo had gently abducted Sir Joseph Ward? What would have the ransom have been, and who would have paid it? The police would have been every bit as impotent, and the criminal every bit as secure. As it is, Mr Hislop is drawing parallels between this silly business and the capture of Kaid

Mac Lean. What is to prevent Mr Ransome, by this time fully assured of his complete security, from abducting Mr Massey or Mr McLach lan to-morrow? It seems to me that really something ought to be done. With regard to the police, certainly something ought to be done. The be3t thing in the world would be to appoint a Royal Commisnion to inquire exhaustively into the whole police system. To me, the principle under which our detectives are appointed seems utterly absurd and ludicrous. When a constable has shown a fitting readiness to apprehend the roving toper, and has been duly servile to his superiors, he is upon occasion pomoted or removed to the detective staff. He need not have (and in practice he seldom or never has) any special fitness for detective work. He remains just what he has been, except that he goes out of uniform and no longer scours the byways for the bibulous and noisy. Ot' what earthly use can such a man be whenever he has to pit his heavy wit against the alert brain of an intelligent criminal. A detective needs to be a man of very special qualifications. He!j should have some education, and sufficient surface breeding to enable him to carry himself decently in any corripany. He should bear no resemblance to the ordinary plain-clothes constable. He should be reasonably conversant with literature and scienc?, so far as these bear directly on his calling. In short, ho should be a shrewd man of the world, with a very alert brain, an exceptionally sensitive discretion, and an unusual development of perspicacity and nerve.