IN PRAISE OF BEAUTY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20520, 22 March 1930, Page 1 (Supplement)

IN PRAISE OF BEAUTY.

SOME TEA PARTIES.

BY K. M. KNICHT.

" A spirit of revolt is on me," said the Girl. " I am quite fed up with this world, and I can't change it much." " I don't call that the spirit of revolt," the Other Girl said. "If it is, it is a pretty tame spirit, and one that will not cause much of a disturbance." " Well then, it is a spirit of discontent. I feel that life is a silly business, keeping us shut up alone, and feeding us on bread and water. What I want most of all in the world to-day is to gather together a great assembly of writers, thiijkers, talkers, singers, and those who love life but don't sing or play or write, sit them all down under a tree on the bank of a river in the bright morning sunshine, and talk to them and listen to them talking, about all the beautiful, things in the world."

" And what about the serious business of everyday work ?" " We'd put that aside for a while. We'd forget about it, and remember instead that it is in the leisure moments that we all really learn things. It isn t when we are doing things we don't like, just because other people are doing them, believing the popular theory that life is a series of disciplinary measures, and nothing more—a sort of preparing for something that never happens. We d have it happening." " And ' stand and stare?' "

" Yes, and talk and sing, and watch the river gliding noiselessly by, and the sun gleaming on it, and birds wheeling overhead. And we would all feel in our hearts 4 Thank God, oh, thank God for the beauty of the earth!' " " And everyone would talk ?" the Other Girl wanted to know. " All who wanted to talk. It wouldn't be a stereotyped party, where, people were asked because they were supposed to be able to do things", and where they accepted the invitation because they felt it their duty. It would be a party of people who wanted to come and talk. We would have 110 wordy folks there to waste the beauty of the morning, only those whose every word was in praise of the holiness of beauty." " Whom shall we have there ? I'll send out the invitations to-night." The Girl's eyes glowed. " Send one to de la Mare; to W. H. Davies; to John Masefield: to John Drinkwater. These may bring with them any others who know what sort of a parjy it is going to be, and who want to come." " What about Bernard Shaw ?"

" Yes. But someone would have to meet him at the gate and tell him that it was a party of friends, and that we wanted no smashing or banging. For once he would be happy, and be able to forget that there were things to be laughed at. We would tell hiin it was not°a party to improve anything—just one to make us all happy. He'd understand. He is really not like people think." Contributions. " And what about the singers ?" " Yes, we'd have musicians who wanted to play for love of playing, men who wanted to express their praise of beauty by putting all they knew and felt of the whole universe into beautiful music. We would need them. And singers, too, people who loved singing best in the world. The only ticket of admission would be that they loved their art best in the whole world, and lived for /it.^ "And those who were not artists?"

" They would be just the same. Tt takes two people to make one artist—the one who creates and the one who listens and understands. The one is*useless without the other. We'd have many of those who appreciate and would sjt with folded bands and shining eyes while others talked." . " I would be one of them, said the Other Girl. " I'd sit still and listen while vou talked."

" Yes, I'd talk —talk and talk and talk. And listen, too—listen while de la Mare, sitting quietly and rather alone, suddenly began to tell us ti story in verse about a little elfin figure he could see coming toward us through the long grass. We would all listen until we could sec it for ourselves—a little shy. gentle creature coming carefully to us, with its head on one side and a light in its deep eyes." Incompleteness. Then the Girl said suddenly, " But we wouldn't have Thomas Hardy there! We couldn't have a party of people praising Beauty and not "have him there. And there are dozens of others who should be there: Flecker, and Shelley, and Byron, and Tennyson and Swinburne; the fathers of all literature and music—Bach and Beethoven and Shakespeare, and Solomon and David. " Why," the Girl said sadly, " my teaparty would be no good. It would be so incomplete. I would have only- a few of the beauty-worshippers there. That would not do. 1 would be no better off than I am now. I could have none shut out from that tea-party. I know what we'll do. Listen." The Other Girl listened.

" We'll get two writers, who were young, as we are now, and full of love of beauty, always singing praises of lovely things, and we'll arrange a tea-party to take place in eighty years' time. We'll be dead by then, too. We'll get Katherine Mansfield and Rupert Brooke. Write it down. 'ln the year 2010 a party is to be arranged, time and place to be fixed by us afterward. The guests will be Miss Ivatherine Mansfield and her short stories and Mr. Rupert Biookc and his poems.' " The Other Girl wrote it down.

" Xow sign it, ami sign mine. I'll do (lie same. Now this is a pact, and we must remember it. Whatever happens, we must be there. Can't you see Katherine Mansfield coming along, laughing and out of breath with running, telling us' how she waited on the road to see something very, very funny, and then flinging herself down on the bundle of books she brought, and sitting with her hands round her knees, telling us about the ' something funny ?' Sight and Hearing.

" I can see her sitting there, eyes shining, face alight, telling us she was sorry she was late, but it was really worth it. The thing was so funny, and so really beautiful. We'd soon begin to think it was worth it, too, and that everything in life was worth it. because life was so good and so beautiful. She'd say, ' You know, I started out to keep this appointment with only a bundle of books, and T arrive hero with forty thousand other things added unto me.' " "And what about Rupert?" " Ile'd sit opposite Katherine, rather quiet and waiting for her 10 stop talking. Then he would turn to us and ask us if the earth was still as full of lovely things. Were the sunsets as full of glory, and did the sunshine still sweep over grassy hills, and were people's faces as full of kindness and laughter? We'd tell him they were, and we'd all talk a great deal, and then we'd all go off exploring new beauties. " Katherine would see them first, and shout and clap her hands, and Rupert, who would be much quieter about it, would see things she had missed. Then we would all go down on our knees and say, ' Thank God for beauty that never dies,' and then we'd talk again. Think each in each, immediately wise; Leani all wo lacked before; hear, know and say "What this tumultuous body now denies: And feci, who have laid our groping hands away, And eee, no longer blinded by our eyes.