NEW PLEASURES.
WE all sigh for new pleasures—we are using the word, of course, in its restricted sense, and mean new recreations. So many of the old pleasures are out of fashion, and so many more are out of reach. Yet the hunger for pleasure was never so strong. It seems as if the monotonous work of the world would be ever more and more monotonous. The idealists who tell of a time when every man will get a real artistic joy out of his labour talk to the wind. So do those who think to reduce his hours of labour much beyond that to which they have been reduced already. The work has to be done, and much of it is desperately dull. Machinery goes on getting more and more perfect. The specialized bit which each man has to do bears less and less relation to the whole ; also, it is more and more easily accomplished, and makes less and less demand on the attention. All machines are no doubt, before they are perfected, dangerous beasts ready to destroy the man who takes his eye off them, but every improvement tames them. They almost think and seem to put " safety first." The more they " think," however, the less- need for thought have the men who tend them. The more " human " the machine the more mechanical the tender. Would it not be better to take the bull by the horns, admit that most work is dull, acquiesce in the sad fact that it must get duller, and see whether it would not be possible to couple it with a parallel pleasure—would not our new psychological knowledge help us to do two things at once ? The women of a past generation got much simple enjoyment out of doing needlework while listening to reading. With- out any effort they gave a divided attention. Might not the early Victorian drawing-room offer an object lesson to the modern factory ? It is not very easy to imagine how reading could be managed even with a megaphone, but music might be played where the noise was not too great, and it is surely not impossible to think of some other entertainment which could be offered where the numbers were not too large.
Constantly just now one hears parents sighing over the fact that young people are restless and pleasure-seekers. It is never any use for the passing generation to lament about the present. It is a foregone conclusion which of the tiro must give way. The young people, after all, are not so unreasonable—little things please them more than they pleased the young Victorians. They want more amuse- ment, but they are content that it should be simpler. If expensive balls are superseded by constant dancing which costs nothing, surely the change is for the better. At least the mass of them are wiser in one particular than their fathers. They do not try to imitate the rich. Of all the crimes and follies laid at the door of Dives, none does so much harm as the criminal folly of those who will strive to copy him. To-day people ask for a great deal of diversion, just as a healthy boy asks for a great deal of food, but they do not insist that it -should be of a luxurious nature. There is something rather savage about the notion of very occasional grand doings ; they somehow suggest excess ; pleasures which are homely and very frequent seem much more fitted for civilized people. But there again we come back to our first point ; we want some new ones. We suppose all the games which are old now were new once—or did they all develop out of children's gambols ? Flying may one day become a general pleasure, though it is now more like an adventure and is confined to the few. Somehow, all means of transit except riding and walking seem to lose their delight as they become commercial, so we must not count too much upon the delights of cheap flight. The cinema is new and capable of immense development, but some- thing more homely is wanted. Possibly we may live to see a great return to the festal occasion as a means of pleasure. Ceremonials connected with the chief events of life might be once more fashionable. No one could wish to see the morbid pleasure which " wakes " afford, below a certain level of civilization, once more universal ; but the fact that funerals are still widely enjoyed testifies, strongly if repellently, to the instinct to make occasions of pleasure. Weddings may once more be real festivities, and christen- ings, which are not now festivities at all, might again make an excuse for young people to rejoice. More might be made of birthdays, at least in the years during which it is a pleasure to get older. It is impossible to be happy to order, we shall be told. That is true up to a point. But it is not quite true of children, or of very young people, or of very simple people. Anything which tends to encourage hospitality is surely good. It is a virtue which the " old " poor have never had a chance of practising until lately. If the new poor will now set them an example and think out the best methods of cheap social pleasure, they will have done them a very great benefit. At present neither the one nor the other are sufficiently used to the new conditions to really cultivate this primitive grace. Upon its revival, however, the happiness of the country depends to no negligible extent.
Among the professional classes one great source of happiness is passing away. The brain-workers no longer look forward to what old-fashioned people used to call " the afternoon of life." All through the burden and heat of the day they dreamt of a time when they would retire or at least " gradually slack off." In that afternoon they hoped to have leisure to pursue their hobbies, to lead to sonic extent the kind of life that they happened to prefer in the place that they chose. They thought about a little travel, a little idleness, a life without strict routine. Now most of them see no such holiday before them. Life is far harder for them than it was, and they expect to die in harness. All the more do they need recreation in the midst of the strain. For themselves and for others it is, as the saying is, " up to them " to think out this question of pleasure. It must be thought out, and worked out, and to some extent arranged for. The delights of " spontaneity " can be too much regarded ; it gives too much licence to mere animal spirits. Recreation ought to have as little as possible to do with reaction, otherwise it tends to become riotous. One of the pleasures which is to be deep-rooted in the heart of man is the pleasure of gambling. In some form or other he seems to insist upon games of chance. Whether from the strictly moral point . of view we excuse or condemn gambling, most people agree that when it takes too great a hold either of an individual or a community it does great harm. Is there no way of playing with chances without playing with fire ? Is it possible to remove the money element ? It is like taking the alcohol out of wine. Still, certain agreeable teetotal drinks have been invented. We suppose before the introduction of tea most Englishmen would have declared that no drink without stimulant could ever be generally desired. At present more than half the English world would rather give up intoxicants than give up tea. Can we not find some recreation connected with lot-drawing which shall cheer and not inebriate ? It seems impossible, but nothing like enough consideration has been given to the subject. It is a pleasant work to plan pleasure. It is the work of an artist, but hitherto the artist&have worked for the few and have to a great extent failed. The theatre is not " succeeding." The book trade is not " succeeding." What we used to mean by " pictures " have nevg or not for a very long time had any meaning for the public at large. All the people who care for their country long to see a really well-fed generation, one not brought up on tins and condiments, but on meat and milk, and fruit and fresh air. A well-amused generation is almost as necessary to the progress of the race. " Bread and the circus," do we hear sonic one say with a cynical laugh ? A contempt for either is surely worse than silly. There is no more virtue in sadness than in starving, when either is pursued for its own sake or accepted out of mental or physical lethargy.
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