THE CITY SEDUCTIVE.

Gisborne Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 4874, 21 May 1918, Page 3

THE CITY SEDUCTIVE.

CAPTAIN J. R. KIRK ON HIS VISIT TO PARIS. V RICH AND LASTING IMPRES- - SIGNS. a CITY OF'GRP AT CONTRASTS. Writing' to j\lrs Kirk, from Paris under date January 14th, Captain J. R. Kirk, of. Gisborne, relates Jus most interesting experiences and impiefsicxns during brief duty leave ni the gay French capital. ; “Here am I, ivitlvgre'at and unexpected! good fortune m Par,s, realising one of' tlijise long, long th mights of" youth, fulfilling a dream I never contemplated would matenal.ro in this fashion and under my present conditions. Yet so it is,. laris, the beautiful, the City of extraord.nary contradictions, the enchantress, the centre of all that is bright and iovous and gay and! care-free, with what pleasure shall I look hack upon the rushing days I Rave been privileged and permitted to dwell within your ,borders! How I love you and your people! How I have enjoyed meeting you, watching you at your play, dining with you, and entering with you into the light spirit of tne most charming of all placei—young, yet old,, whose memories, when i ©called, yet show page upon page d the bloodiest history. But just now for Paris there is no •war. It is all delight, all gaiety, all fortune-restoring business. In London there may be meatless days, there may be bread rationing, limitation of petrol, restrictions on liquor In Northern • France,—-fin rural France—such conditions may prevail ; hut in Paris—No— always, No—Paris is a laud unto herself and so long as you can pay' you can oat—what you want ,as much as you want—and you can drink in like measure. Automobiles can he engaged anywhere, for long or short journeys, ’and aro not expensive, trains and trams run every minute, the cafes, restaurants, and' Hotels are filled, at every hour of the day and night, and the Opera Comique and the Opera Grand, tne Casino de Paris, the Follies, the Picture Houses and the many' other places of Amusement continue to draw their great houses. NO HYPOCRISY IN PARIS. Paris has a spirit of its own. Whether it is a good! spirit or a had die 1 am not in the humour just now to discuss, hut- it is a very delightful one —probably neither good nor had, just human. There is no hypocrisy in Paris or about Parisians. They are natively frank, which adds to their charm, and they have in their lovely City, everything that appeals to the aesthetic. One can love the Parisian (masculine or neuter gender, please!) and love alj the beauty and wonder and the magnificence of his iusp.ring buildings with their lovely treasures, and still come away with the thought that_if man the creature can accomplish such mastery, ivhai cannot the Creator. Well, I liavo still a few clays left in which to revel in this atmosphere; but I want to write you to-day to let you know what T am doing, what lam thinking. I w ish you were here too, dear. If th sbe an embarrassment of riches, a wilderness of beauty, then wilderness were “Paradise now/’

Well now you will he wanting my impressions of Paris! May I just whisper something to you before I put them on paper. I can’t decide whether I like Paris' best for its butter (Oh, the charm of it to one who has tasted nothing'hut its unworthy substitute) Margarine for so many months!) or its clean white sheets artistic, luxurious chamber where, instead of in a sleeping hag as usual 1 have simply revelled’ in its snowy downy softness; or the opportunity it has afforded me discarding routine orders and bugle calls. Just Fancy! instead of getting up in the half-liglit at an early hour, with Reveille or perhaps unfortunately some later call sounding in my still semi-dormant ears, to lie abed in luxury in a largo, beautifully appointed, richly carpeted bed-room, press the bell and have the waiter bring me my coffee and roll with the added extravagance of an omellette! Oh it is delightful. For the present military rules, with all their rigour can go where they like, for just now' I am no longer a soldier. I have caught the atmosphere, and am a Parisian! And those omellettes! I have had them plain, I have had them otherwise, and I’ll have them, I think, even in my memory. Can you understand! what it all means—the absence of discipline, the abandonment of military precision to comfort ease and rest, the forgetting of war and the intro dr.ction of conditions of life not entirely foreign, but almost forgotten!

LOST-'IN WONDER AND ADMIRATION. But my impressions of Paris! I coino away loving Louis tho Ninth and Saint Genievieve! I have .been lost m wonder and admiration in the Sainte Chapelle—tliat exquisite edilice erected as a fitting place for the Crown of Thorns and other Sacred Emblems. As the lights streamed through the countless panes of the most wonderful stained, glass I can ever hope to see, although there was no sound audible, I seemed to hear the grandest organ music. My soul doubtless was ecstatic, my whole being raised .to a higher plane. I understood the spirit of the just and saintly King who conceived, it all, and a peace which I was loth to break in upon, enveloped me. Wasn’t it Carlyle who said: “Listen, and for OTgatt music thou wilt ever as of old, hear the morning stars sing together! ‘Well, I feel no reason why I should r;o disclose the feelings that came to me. I have stood in the great Palace of Justice in which hangs th c picture of Justinian. I have wont the red robe (with the Legion of Honour and other decorations attached) and the toque of the* Chief Justice and have sat in the seats from which' thc Judges looked at Dreyfus as lie was before them. I have occupied Victor Hugo’s seat in the Senate and the Presidents’ Chair and have seen the draped, vacant seat of Senator Redmond', the Airman who died 1 for France, as he lived for it. I have been amazed at the. wealth and richness of the hal] in which the great Napoleon held his receptions when Consul of France. Lhavo stood at the tomb of Napoleon, visited the Pantheon (the Westminister Abbey ot I< ranee) with its sepulchres of the nation’s outstanding cit'zens, wo shipped. in Notre Dame, wandered through fhi’ gardens of the Tulllories and the wonders cf the Lotivre; amdl in the gieat parks and gardens and exquisite setting of the Palace of Versailles j have in spirit seen Marie Antoinette ! ai‘d followed her later to the Place cle laJConcord and the Guillotine. I ! have lecalled the August of 15/2 and have seen the. Seine, which then flow- i ed red with 1 blood of the Hugenots in that tremendous folly and Indelible crime, carrying ice to the sear—a white burden instead of a scarlet one. Also I have -actually spent much time in’the Latin Quarter and lunched in the Restavirant frequented by students and artists in the gayer, freer, more careless days ot 1 eaco. A' new clientelle visited the tables, and sat in the seats of the BMiemirns. My guide was a Roumanian and 1 a Now- Zealander. Bolrnd us were sev.cfal Russian, officers,' whilst opposite : ‘me, was a Servian Major. there were also representatives of Australia, the United States'and Be!g um,— all orthodox ; but in one corner (probably . his own-of- other days) sat a -Frenchman'. He was,m mihi. •;bufc lie was lunching as of old *' !r the moment he too forgot’fin" the plea--1 sure of the present, the roar and crash of battle, the mud and the slm-h: for * holding lfis arm, and occasionally his

neck, and feasting upon hi£ eyes and often touching iiis lips was “his little sifter”. Dear people, .they are ( so t lank ..in ther sentiments. it was a .•name to watch them, and I didn’t de so, but an irresistable impulse com pi'lied my eyes to wander to loem at ernes. All well! May the student flays return, • wuth all they mean of •gladness and. life to both of them I ■AMID THE WIT L OF GAIETY. I hove seen fhe gaiety of C ro’s of Maxine’s, and of Rumplemeyes; have lunched at the Cafe do la Paix, diked at the Restaurant Prunicr tamed for it’s oysters at Lucas s; and at ihe Foyet Restaurant opposite the ben ate, and famous all "over Europe And. at nights I have enjoyed the Tollies Bergere and the Opera Conuquo (at which latter place I heard Verdi’s “Traviata”) and have oeen delighted with/ that temptress of tile King of. Spain—Gaby Deslvs- -at the. "Casino de Paris. The building nself is something magnificent—one great glitter of gold, fashioned in a i-dc/ fuj images. The promenade is s me. oiling not to. be missed—a ere it hall of kingly magnificence, won-.erf ally \nd. effectively charming, and wiiea filled to overflowing as it is b.-tween the Acts of the Play, a setting of humanity in an Epicurean era. In hi a Opera" House I heard “Samson ana Delilah” and “Faust” and ncverHjo fore have I witnessed anytniug just half s\> magnificent. Tne Orchestra comprised between eighty and cjnle hundred instruments, the stage was of great proportions and the scenery splendid. The solos, the duets, and the music generally were excellent, while the dancing—a revelation to me —ivas absolutely entrancing, ThoGreat Hall was filled, but on each occasion I had a front seat in the Orchestral Stalls (16 Francs). _ Ok memory, oh memory! I shall' post you the programme and you wall s©a the names of the Artistes. I have visited the Bourse, the Great\Stook Exchange of France, also the tremendous Market of Paris. As I indicated before, there is no shortage in Paris as one can see from a visit to this astonishing Market. Other centres may be rationed, but Paris—Paris is Paris ! I have motored through tlie/Arch of Triumph, over the stately Bridges, past the Statues;/ erected to mark various events - —tragic or victorious; have been to the great Eiffel Tower, ,The Great Wheel, and the} Trocadero, and with what feelings of ;oy, I drove, down the various Boulevards and tho Champs Ely sees! FAIR LAND OF FRANCE: l could have dwelt much longer m tlie Museum de Luxemburg viewing it’s storied treasures, but then where in Paris, could one not delight to linger? Could I not have stayed ed for instance in the Church of the Madeleine or in that of Saint Augustine. Shall I ever forget the afternoon when, standing on tho steps of the former, I looked down the Bouleyard and saw the dome of the Palace of Justice, the Towers of Notre Dame, and the Spire of the Sainte Cbapclle—the three buildings I think I love most in Paris—and, beyond, the rich reflection of westering day. It made a. profound and lasting impression upon me ami is one of my happiest memories. How von would have loved to see the wealth of mural decorations in Paris, the rich tapestries, life-like sculpture and inspiring and exquisite works of art of all natures! this is a rich City, and a City of delicacy and richness, and if its worst side (for unfortunately it has one) could be eliminated, it would be simply an earthly paradise—at any rate to" those who could pay for the privilege in it! ' Fair land cf France 1— “one of Nature’s choicest masterpieces, one of Core’s chiefcst barns for corn, one of Bacchus’ prime wine cellars and of Neptune’s best salt pits 1” Casting one’s mind back over the past, one recalls the invasion cf Clovis’s, the devastating and blocdv enterprise of Attila, and above the memory of this latter drive comes the vision of St. Genevieve, now the Patron Saint of Paris. The Art Treasures <cre rich in reminding one of these occasions and personages, and: cf the civil wars of Siegbcrt and Chilperic and subsequent religious disturbances, of St Denis and the conquest of Charlemagne! But I must not weary yon by entering say, into the history "of France from the time of Hugh Capet through the thousand years which stretched onward through history to the Guillotine of the Revolution. THE PROMISE OF REFORMS. We shall have much to speak of, and I shall have much to lecall, when I get home, which, please .God, may be before my step becomes tqo feeble and my memory too fadedSuffice it to say that while the colouring of the holy edifices appeals to the artistic in me, 1 am. not- forgetful of the condemnation of St Bernard when he said that “the walls of the Churches of Christ were respleoident with colour hut His poor were naked and left to perish, tneir stores were gilded with the money of the needy' and wretched to charm tho eyes of the rich.” Paris has been, st.il is a City of great contrasts, but in the fulness of time those will go, as they have largely gone. The Revolution (lid much, and bloodless revolutions, well led among an educated and fairminded people, will yet br ng -about other reforms. But if you are not yet weary, I must take you to another and very different location. I had visited the Church of the Sucre Coeus, standing on the highest point overlooking Paris, from which I looked down upon the beauty of the wintry scene and determined to visit the burial place of Abelard! and Heloise, whose charming love-letters I had previously read. It would take too long to recount the whole story, and anyway doubtless yen know; it. Abelard, in the beginning of-the twelfth Century, was appointed to a chair of philosophy- in the school of Notre Dame. His fame brought him students from all parts, but was unorthodox, and, in. keeping with thespirit of the age, the envious and jealous caused him to suffer. Heloise was his enthusiastic, admirer, she 17, he. 38. They became both desperately in love, and : a secret marriage was arranged, which took place. Heloise would previously not marry Abelard, for she felt this would be to hinder his progress in the Church. Abelard subsequently after much suffering, returned to tlie Abbey, of St. Denis, but before, doing so required Helojse to take the veil. It has seemed to me that Abelard was jealous, even cruel, over this, but then lie was a man! And Heloise? A woman who gave herself up entirely to him, who loved him with a passion stronger than life, more endin' ng I than death, who waited on his every Avord, lvhose life was filled only by li’s. Near Ohallous, in 1142, absolved by the Pope, Abelard departed this 1 fe. His ashes, according to his wish, were Bent to Heloise, and tAventy years later (just ..think what those twentylong years must have meant) she w'fls la-d beside him at the Paraclete—-tho Convent lie founded 1 for her. The letters -.! have mentioned .wore -written between the period from sonic years after, her entry to the Convent to' some years hefore his death, and show that through- the centuries our little human lives have been much the. same. Tlie outstaind : ng passions have altered little, and love, thank God, runs through the ages.- In 1817 th-.- remains of this loving couple— Monk and Nun—were transferred to Pero-la-Chaise Cemetery at Paris

vhi,ch I visited, and I cannot here explain the emotions I had as I looked at the monuments. /They lie together, and the sculptor has breathed into Abelard’s face and made hm show the intensity of liis love, and as one looks' at it one bd'eves that it was not jealously after al] that caused him to order his Heloise to the Convent but an all-consuming love. Can you understand. The features of Heloise cause a lump to come into one’s throat, water to tremble on one’s eyes. She is tall and handsome, of winning proportions, and saint-like, face with a strength, (not a hardness) in it from which one can well imagine the intensity, *thc singleness and the devotion of her soul. The centuries have rolled by, hut since 1817 it is a well known patn, worn by “ghneratiojis of happy and unhappy lovers, which leads to the temb. There was no. one there when l visited it, but thrown between ttie figures was a hunch of violets, sweet smelling blue violets, which some girl had probably taken from her breast to sacrifice to the love which endured through extraordinary hardship and great distress. The love letters cause one to love Heloise.

DEVOTION OF FRENCH WOMENFOLK.

This is a sad land—/I mean France, not Paris, for I have seen in the Cl urelies in little villages in Northern France, girls bringing white flowers to St. Anthony and praying for _thcir loves. Rut enough of this. I "hope you wont mind my just letting my thoughts find expression sometimes in my letters. In this same cemetery I saw the grave of Napoleon’s great general, Marshal Ncy, and incidentally (as you are interested in it) the grave of the founder of Homeopathy . I visited the Crematorium and obtained! some idea of its working and of the tremendous heat. It is largely used now, and ail the poor who die in hospitals’*(and the unintelligent man in charge said 7000 a year) go through it. He was a about as dull as the grave-digger in Hamlet and handed me over some charnel saying “This is the way they come out.” I—wont give you particulars, for '.liis letter is growing so' Pere-Ja-Chaise Cemetery is the “fashionable” one of Paris and here you see the family tombs, with their shrines etc—all very interesting, hut very imposing, recalling Grey’s lines;” Can storied urn or animated bust •back to its Mansion call this fleeting breath” etc. Indeed, were I the occupant of one of these tombs, over which was raised such a heavy p ie of marble, I would envy the heroic, sleeping soldier at whose head stands only tlie simple wmoden cross and' over whose covering the green grass and the white daisies grow unmolested save for the sport ef singing birds who come to gambol there. This (Continental) is one of the best Hotels in' Paris. It is somewhat expensive, but then it is only for .‘even days; after which the sleeping bag again, a bath by sections in a washing basin, mud, slush and the Army! There are a great number of A mar - can Officers staying here, and the atr tention is excellent, as are the meals —they too are artistic, and judg ng by the price “old masters”. The Hotel die Ville, the Sorbonne, and Montmartre, I can only mention an pasing. The gii-ls of Paris seem to have one purpose in life—to fascinate; and one cannot- say that they fail in it. They have a walk quite French, accounted for probably bv the highheeled hoots they wear. (If Dr. Truby King stirs up England on this subject, how dreadful it will be if his well-founded theories are taken up in France!) And. the men—As one sees them at the Opera one cannot help admiring their taste in c'othes, their well-groomed and' neat appearance. Really, they are all a very lovely people 1 And how they love beauty! I think I must conclude. I have still two more days to spend in this great and wondrous City where once over most public) doors ran the legend—“ Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death”. Side by side with the sons of France, but outside Paris, we are fighting fo r the same ideals, satisfied to obtain death rather than be in bondage. Rut for the present I am in Paris and that is enough, for it is the. most cultured, the most artistic, the most delightful and seductive City one could he in. The Parisian is and ahvays has_been conscious of his Citizenship, proud of his City, careful of her beauty, jealous of her reputation; and for these things I admire them. If I can ever come here again I shall attempt to learn more of his Garden City, hut with my present knowledge I carry a. remembrance rich in experience and detail, beautiful and entrancing.