PASSING NOTES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2801, 20 November 1907, Page 5

PASSING NOTES.

(Fr«m Saturday's Daily Times.)

One of our English art critics recently summarised the portrait as being " the apotheosis of the domestic drama " ; is it not sometimes in the nature of a, domestic tragedy? After regarding in silent amazement some of the portraits at the- Art Society's exhibition I have come to the conclusion that portraits may be regarded in the light of a cure for carnal vanity, as a delicate indication of what we may look like to other people ; of anything, in fact, but what we look like to ourselves! In most cases the last thing that is insisted upon — even by the friends of the artist — is the likeness. That common-place and obvious " raison d'etre" is by one consent waived, while the art critic discourses of "the schema of colour," the " masterly technique," the "pose," or the "composition." We all remember how the especial organ of the London tailors or drapers — I confess I have forgotten which — seriously snubbed the painters of some of the finest portraits in last year's Royal Academy for their utter and disgraceful disregard of prevailing fashions. Coats were buttoned on the wrong side, ties were shockingly tied, and " lapels cut in the fashion of two seasons back " ! It is the old story of "the point of view." Not in overdressing or in under-dressing, but in fashionable dressing, lies the true salvation from the sartorial point of view. Which reminds me of a little story anent portraits and this year' 6 Academy, for which one of the magazines is responsible, as follows : —

Poole: I suppose you have b<>ard all about the high-born young lady who posed to a rising painter for her " portrait" exhibited at this year's show? As soon as it was noised abroad amongst her friends, they were all curious and enthusiastic, and a party was made up to attend tie private view. She met the aunt«, uncles, and cousins at the entrance and led the way to the masterpiece. Then came a. " tableau " in another sens*. Marriott: Wasn't it a good likeness? Poole: Ask Dawber.

Dawber: Very good, I believe — very good indeed. Bu-t the fact is, the young lady's deep interest in high ait and the consciousness of ft perfect figure had Strayed her into — well — an indiscretion. It was not professedly a " poctrait," and, -well — she tad " nodiug on." You remember the picture — one of the Ariadtee-Calypeo sea-nymph variety, and really quite a olever performance, but rather— what ehall I say— scandalising.

Tf tu* old-time attractions of travel ' have been curtailed: ; if Cleopatra's Needle may be seen on the Thames Embankment, and if the P'ung-dok Pagoda has ceased to be the glory of Korea, and has sunk to being the spoil of Japan ; if the Campanile of St. Mark's is being rebuilt ; if the Sphinx is crumbling more rapidly in th« damper air of an irrigated Egypt — no doubt we shall "restore" the Sphinx some day; — and if the temples of Phillae, undermined by the lapping waters of the great dam at Assouan, already need underpinning — even so, there are fresh fields and pastures new. Ha« not the dread Gobi Desert , gained a touch almost of frivolity since it i was traversed by the triumphant Prince Borghese and his following? Has not that most intrepid and delightful of explorers, Sven Hedin, not only interviewed, but drank tea with the Tashi Llama, and Younghusband penetrated the Red Temple of the Dalai Llama? Meantime the thing to do is undoubtedly to take up Arctic travel, for the fad of the moment does not lie in the exploiting of men and citiee, but in getting a& far from them as luck and the Polar regions will permit. Indeed), Arctic exploration is so much in favour that things promise to be almost sociable there during the coming year. What the real difficulty indicated bjr the cablegram about Wellman's airship was we have* yet to learn. In the meantime one may do worse than read his own account of what he believes to be its possibilities and probabilities^ in the current Windsor. Naturally enough, Dominion interests centre very much in Lieutenant Shackleton's expedition, since ( in New Zealand the party will say their . Ay« et Vale to civilisation and receive their welcome back again. In addition to the motor boat which is part of the equipment of the expedition, they are also provided with a. bicycle sledge. This last U the invention of a French officer : vrorlred with pedals as in bicycling-, and by the aid of its ingenious series of cogs steep snow inclines may be negotiated with ease and comparative rapidity. Arctic travel made easy at this rate may yet find Crvis enrolled among the travellers. Into the magic Arctic zone literature and art are also being drawn, for De Windt and 1 Le Queux have both gone " Laplanding." One of the popular sensations of the last season's art exhibitions was the wonderful series of snowscapes painted by an artist who was hard put to it to keep his colours and himself from freezing, while, last of all, among the latest triumphs of photography are Arctic moonlight effects, the result of three to three and a-half hours' exposures. '

The topic of holidays, how to holKJ&y, and where to holiday, naturally gains in interest and importance as we near the time to holiday. We are more and more lond of imitating our betters in meat and drink, in going out and coming in. The right thing to do is the" tbing that the man on the rung above us on • th» social ■ladder does— * that, and notbisr else. How does the upper middle-class .Englishman spend his holiday? Let- me, as a self-respecting colonial, do ditto, or as jiear it as I can compass. - Apparently the newest thing" in holidays is the topic of such strenuous searching that already I blush for the crudity of my meagre suggestion of bed versus Brighton. Let the fortnighb-in-bed rest-holiday go by the board, and in its place let vw launch ourselves on a sea of suggestion. It ia not long since the "farm-labourer holiday " had quite a run among city clerks at Home, and the craze «yen spread to persons wealthy enough to have bought a dozen of such farms-, lock, stock, and barrel. The " farm-labourer holiday " worked out on the simplest lines. You hired yourself to the first farmer who was silly enough to take you, and laboured to the best of your ability for 15s a week, doubtless doing a deal more good to yourself than to the farmer. The " lighterman-cure " and the " towingcure" also have achieved some popularity, bdth having the recommendation of cheapness and novelty. For quite a moderate sum the patient may purchase the privilege of working a lighter, say, from Wapping to Lambeth ; and the alternation of strenuous physical toil in working the long heavy sweeps, with the periods of absolute rest when the tide swings the hulk along, certainly precludes monotony. We can scarcely hope to provide ourselves with this exact form of holiday, but an admirable alternative suggests itself — work on the Otago Central ! For a small consideration it is quite conceivable that a paternal Government might consent to allow gangs of respectable citizens to benefit their livers and bring down superfluous flesh by doing pick and shovel work on this monument of political procrastination. For the benefit of both sides permits should be short, terminating before the workers had time to get into " Government stroke."'

Ediison, who is a perfect whale for work, and the mere record of whose activities gives the average man " that tired feeling," has his own recipe for what he never needs — which sounds an' Irishism; but though a man "arranges his life so scientifically that he never ' needs a vacation," he yet may have inspirations for the benefit of lesser folk. The great inventor's originality >docs not, however, run to holidays: change of scene and occupation is the gist of his prescription — the sights of the city for the countryman, the freedom and peace of the country for the town-dweller. Where he becomes emphatic is on the necessity of eating simply and sparingly ; where he waxes alarming is" on the topic of sleep. " Get up the moment you wake. . . There is1 absolutely no reason why we should sleep, except that our prehistoric ancestors got into the habit of "sleeping, and we : have never broken ourselves of it. Sleep dulls the intellect. It is not th« quantity of sleep that counts, but the quality." There is nothing in common between my Labour friends with their eight hours — or less than eight hours'— scheme of salvation and the great American inventor, who for 40 years has worked an average of 15 hours per day. If Edison carries out his desire to visit the duodecimo Dominion, I doubt if he will be asked to address the working man, even though his latest announcement proclaims the coming of the day when " eight-bob-a-day" will hustle his automobile as gallantly as eight thousand a year does nowadays. Returning to that " habit of sleeping " which we have inherited, Professor Hallopeau, of the Paris Academy , of Medicine, offers a fresh theory on the i subject. There was a delightful and convivial song of that roysterer of happy memory, Tom Moore, 'which taught us 1 that

The bpsl of all ways, To lengthen our days, Is to st<>*l a few hours from the night, O! In these dull days of toil, however, we are only incited ' to steal time in order to labour the better. According to Professor Hallopftui, " the true secret of longcontinued, valuable brain work is to cut the night in two." It is evident that Monsieur is living "en garcon." I should like to hear what Mrs Civis would say to his plan of going to bed at 10, getting up again at 2 in the morning in order to work for three hours "in the absolute tranquillity of the silent hours," going to bed again at 5 for three or four hours' sleep, and resuming the thread of affairs for the day proper at Bor 9. The Professor would emerge from a bad quarter of an hour a sadder and eke a wiser man. I take it.

The advice of the English Prime Minister to the suffragettes "to pester the people persistently" in order to gain their cause smacks of ancient and Biblical precedent. One is reminded of a certain widow whose importunities served her better thin the raerite of her csee. Meantime, the mere man is obliged to regard with respectful admiration the new aspects of feminine versatility. No sooner has the modern woman decided that to rule the world _by such monotonous methods as rocking the cradle no Ljnger contents her, than she casts about hv for fresh paths to supremacy. Let us concede, that woman has always been the hub 0.4 which the troubled affairs of the universe have revolved ; more, that she has been the wheel itself on which men have been content to be broken : even that does not suffice her. It is a different wheel which is the modern woman's objective — the iteering wheel, and her hnnd upon it ! Amiirenily she has her supporters, and t

in a quarter where they might naturally be looked for — the clerical quarter. La the recent deliberations of that grave and! reverend body, the Anglican Synod, I find dtae recognition of the worth — financial worth, too — of feminine influence. On.o progressive speaker considers that "a little more power should be given to women in the management of tbe Church," a delightfully ingenuous statement which! would, I should 6ay, be received with ia« dulgent smiles by the ladies of tha reverend gentleman's flock. My own im> presaion has always been to the effect that it was the women who filled both pewa and purse of the world's churches. Certainly it is they who promote the ingeni* ous side-shows wherewith the parish pott ii kept boiling ; it is their adorable resourcefulness which navigates art unions) guiltless of art, and wflily circumvent* the conventions of the Colonial Secretary therein. When the suggestion that women should " be invited to look in at the annual parish meetings" is carried out, therd can be no doubt that the attendance will look up. The " uttered not, but compre* hended " boom which will straightway take place in the interest of the young men in church matters is the really my portant point in this reform in parltu politic!.

The Indian Babu, with his miserable conceit and" foolhardy sedition, has fallen! into bad odour. Readers of Kipling':? "Kirn" and Steevens's "India" recall thjj descriptions of the evolutionof the Indian Babu only in order to verify the unpleasant aspects of this curious product of mistaken^ education. Yet, there is.- just as muctf quaint humour as ever in the topic, of which let this, from " The Tourist's India,' 1 remind one: A Hindu clerk in. a, email Indian city, had permission to keep two cats to keep down the rats, which were damaging Government papers. The- heed office ai? Calcutta received this despatch : " I have the honour to inform you that the senior cat is absent without leave. What shall I do?" No answer came, and_ in a few days the Hindu .«ent off thia proposal : "In re absentee cat. I propoeei to promote the junior cat, and in th«

meantime to take into Government ser-

vice a- probationer cat on full rations." How does that strike one as the apptf* tion of "red tape" Then as regards that "flowery language" which is our accepted? phrase for Eastern modes of speech, onq could scarcely find a better example than! the following "nice turn for metaphor" : — V •It was in ft police court in Indian The client of*' the Babu lawyer was «. woman accused of assault and battery, and the attorney, attacking the opposing} lawyer, delivered himself as follows:: "My learned friend with mere* wind from! a teapot thinks to browbeat roe from myi legs. I only seek to place my bone of} contention clearly in your Honor's eye^ My learned friend vainly runs amuck upon the sheet anchor of my case. My\ poor client has been deprived of some ofl her valuable leather (skin), the leather} of the nose. Until the witness explain* what became of my client's nose leather, he cannot be believed; he cannot ba allowed to raise a cattle in tbe air by, beating upon a bush."

The correspondent who sent me a Lotfji donerry instead of a Limerick is at onc«l too modest to himself, too flattering to myself. Mere common courtesy forbids my, allowing him to characterise himself as a> donkey in order that "Civis" should represent the donkey's mental oat. A 6 to) the rhyme of "Doolallie," its creator probably agrees with me in thinking it reallji was not worth wrecking his position on> Limericks, strange to say, have not caughti on in Dunedin, while all the rest of the world is waltzing on tiptoe to the tune of Won't you come up, All the way up, All the way up to Limerick? We sit tight, waiting till there's money in it. I am, under the circumstanced, grateful to the genial correspondent wh<i keeps me in touch with the mood of th« moment by the following: —

Dear Civis,— Talking about Limericks, one of the symptoms, I take it, is an inaane desire to make people who hay« little else to do smile. How's this? — " A respectable man in Dunedin One© purchased some ground to pufl seed in, But the section so tilted, That all th-e seed spiited— There are very few flats in Dunedin."

Or this?—

' A sensible girl in St. Clair, (Always endeavour to keep in respectabl't or sensible company), Of sunny complexion and hair, Dared someone who missed her To kiss her— he kissed her; They've bean married sine© then in Sfc Clair." There's nothing in it, if you can get a mood mad enough

DUNBDIHTTE. One other effort in the Limerick reaches me from an infrequent writer ; one, too, evidently interested in the lateet aspects of art : In Duneddn they built an Art Gallery, And the trails they were lovely and yallery, But you should have seen The festive scene "When they dined my Lord Tim in Vtirn Gallery! Had I been blessed with a less philo*ophi> cal disposition this might have the tianii of eour grapes to tbc palate of the modes! and absent citizen.

The English mail via Naples despatched /bom Wellington, on October 4 arrived IB London On the 11th inst.

A large number of shearers and slaughter men are arriving here from Australia, bjk each intercolonial boat, with the proepecw of obtaining employment in shearing shedH or freezing works. Shearing should be ifil full swivg within the next two or threfl( weeks, while freezing works will probably he in operation eajJjc ia tii^ month oj. January.