NOTES AND NOTIONS. [By a New Zealander Abroad.]

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 241, 11 February 1888, Page 3 (Supplement)

NOTES AND NOTIONS. [By a New Zealander Abroad.]

Home via the Continent — Fraxci: — ! he Rivikka — San Hkmo — Bokdighkiix — Dn. George Macooxai/d at Home— Thk Gaming Tablfs at Monti-: Carlo— A Canny Scot— koutes ok traval— sul»kkiority of hie San Fkaxcibco. Your readers may probably be asking \rhen are these Notes and Notions going to -end. They are going to end right now— -thi-> is the last. I had resolved to return to the colony by America, via the Canada Pacific Railway. I was forced to alter my plans and come back by way of the Old World. I leave England at the beginning of winter, resolving to pass that season in the Riviera and Italy. My first destination is San Remo, a rapidly-rUing health resort in the Western Riviera. Three or four different routes you may take. I select the one -which lnads mn t.hrmifyh France, partly because I happen to know a little French, and partly because that way is, on the whole, the most interesting. I loiter three days around Paris, then on \ south to Marseilles I stay a day at Dijon, | the old capital of Burgundy, then on through fertile vales and vine-clad slopes. By and-byo Lyons " dropped a spark into the night," and in the morning, lo ! the city -of Marseilles, With all her Bhips behind her, and beyond The scimitor of ever-shining Boa, For right-hand uae, bared blue against the sky. Short stay here satisfies me. It is blowing what they call a "Mistrel" when I arrive. Tins wind is one of the terrors of Riviera. No wonder. It is keen and eager -as steel — cold as if it were thrice sifted over frozen snow?. So lam quickly off again. The journey gets pleasanter soon. ; The air improves, so does the scenery. We skirt the shores of the Mediterranean, and at Hyeres we entered what is called the Western Riviera. The French Riviera extends from here to the Italian frontier town of Ventiraiglia, and the Italian Riviera from there to Leghorn. It is uaually, however, divided into the Western and Southern Riviera. The former is a long strip of country lying like a spine between the foot of the Maritime Alps and the Mediterranean, stretching away about 200 miles from Hey res to Genoa. This is the Riviera proper. The Southern Riviera begins at Genoa and goes 'down to Leghorn, but the former is the more frequented. The train sweeps on, stringing on its line picturesque villas and villages— Hydros, Cannes, Nice, Monaco, Mentone, and Bordighera, and scores of smaller places— towns known only to the globe-trotter, the health-seeker, and the "wealthy "unemployed." Towards evening I reach my destination. San Remo is a little town of some 18,000 inhabitants. It is not so sheltered as Mentone, nor so beautiful as Monte Carlo, nor so gay as Cannes or Nice ; but as a health resort it is equal, if not superior, to any of these. It consists of two parts — the old town and the new. The former, like all old Italian towns, has climbed up the mountain as high aa it can get ; the latter creeps down to the aea as nearly as it can get. The Italians proper live up above, the globe-trotter and nealth-seeker down below. It is a pretty spot. The sides and background of the town consist of endless groves of olive trees, lemon, orange and palm. The olive preponderates. These are planted in rows up the hill-side, each row standing about four feet above the other. The dividing atages are faced up with stone, and climb the hill rank behind rank in countless terraces. The soil is a thin, unfertile-looking reddish clay, spread lightly over a layer of bard rock. There are not many flowers abroad now, but in the spring and summer I am told the place fairly laughs with them. Underneath the covert of these olive groves grey periwinkles wind among the snowy drifts of olium ; the narcissus sends it arrowy fragrance through the air ; violets tumble over each other in wantonness of delight ; bluebells nod to the breeze that rustles the silvery leaves above them; "while far and wide red anemones burn like fire with interchange ef blue and lilac buds, white ariums, orchises, and pink gladiolas." With its back well set into this background stands San Remo, and standing there it looks out over " the unpastured sea, hungering for calm ;" and a curious sea is this Mediterranean. The garden of my hotel goes down to the water's edge,and I sit and watch it for hours. The waves are lazy and sleepylooking. They come up to the strand, pofee for a moment, uncertain what they wanfc to do. They always decide to come down, however, but not as your Southern one, " with a stamp, with a rush, with a roar. " Oh, dear no ; but 6of tly and silently,

as if they were afraid of hurting themselves, and waking up too violently the sleepy calm of San Remo. Here I spent four weeks, loitering by this lazy sea, straying away up into the hills or taking far walks along tho famous Cornice road. One of the most frequent of the last is to Bordighera, o. pretty little village set in palm trees, and about six miles from San Remo. The town itself is beautiful, sheltering itself under its palms and olives, and looking out over the blue sea. The main attraction for mo, howover, lies not in the town itself, but in a man who lives in it. It is hore that George Macdonald, the novelist, has his home. He resides hero the greater portion of tho year, only going to England for a few months during the summer. The state of his health renders this necessary. I was fortunate enough to carry with me an introduction, on presenting which 1 felt myself at home at once. Dr. Macdonald I should judge to bo a man of sixty or thereabouts ; tho iron-grey hair parted in tho middle, thrust back from a forehead slightly high. The face is handsome, and as he moves about the figure is graceful and dignified, unimpaired as yet by any signs of old age. He does not go out much, his health forbidding strenuous exerci&e. On Wednesday afternoons his family has an " at home," and while Mrs Macdonald and her daughters provide the tea, Dv Macdonald supplies " the feast of reason and the flow of soul" in the shape of a reading from some favourite author. Ho is a good elocutionist. My only regret was that he did not read some of his own writings, and that he did not give us longer comments on the pieces he did select. He read one day a portion of Browning's "Christmas Eve and Easter Day," and said it had a special interest for him as supplying the subject for histirstliterary effort. OnSundaynights he has a religious service. His house is thrown open to the public, and everyone who cares may come. Quite a crowd assemble, and the service is most interesting. It begins at 9 p.m., and is very informal. A small choir sing a hymn or two. Dr. Macdonald reads a portion— sometimes from some religious author, generally from the New Testament —and from the latter takes a text. He speaks with great earnestness and enthusiasm. I heard him twice on Sunday evenings, and both times his thoughts revolved round that which is the oentral theme of all hia teaching— obedience— the necessity of taking fche simple word of Jesus and doing it. The service is closed by a prayer in which the whole soul of the man seems uttering itself to his Father, God. Great good must result from these services. Sometimes during the week ho also gives public readings, and, assisted by his family, public dramatic entertainments. I spoke to him about visiting the colonies. He had thought of it, he paid, but his health was delicate. I assured him of as good a climate for three or four months as even Bordighera could produce, and possibly ho may see his way. I hope he may. lam sure there are many in New Zealand who would prize the opportunity of hearing the man who has perhaps done more tlian any living writer to broaden and deepen the religious opinions of this genera* tion. Not far from Bordighera is another famous —or infamous — place, Monaoo. Everybody has heard of it. It re in my opinion the moat picturesque spot on the Riveira. It is possibly the smallest independent municipality in the world. It contains abouc 1,500 of a population, and its prince is practically king, though the customs and post "office belong to France. The little to*m runs out on two jutting cliffs into the blue sea. On one of these cliffs stands Monte Carlo. I spent part of an afternoon here watching the gamesters and the game. There are two sets of tables, each in different rooms. Of the tables there are, I believe, eight altogether. Six of these are devoted to the low-priced play — a five-franc piece. The other two are what is called treute et quoranle— thirty and forty franca. All the tables were crowded, lined most of them three or four deep. Singularly enough, too, ladies were in the majority. The gi eater proportion of the players belonged to the fair sex. A curious study was this motley assemblage of gamesters. It brought up to my mind the description of such a scene given by that master-hand in the open ing pages of " Daniel Deronda." I see all the types hero ; the casual spectator like myself; the new-comer, usually a woman, trying her luck with a five-franc piece, just to feel what tho passion of gambling really meant ; tho English lady, from the conntess or duchess downward, stretching her white bejewelled fingers side by side with the yellow crab-like hand that seemed only a slight metamorphosis of the " vulture ; " the masher, or emaciated libertine, ' ' who looked at life through an eyeglass ; " tho passion-possessed gamester, whose nervous hand fixed tremblingly his money upon the numbers, and whose very soul seemed to come out upon his face to watch the issue ; the gay, light-hearted lady, who loses her francs by the thousand, but whose apparent indifference shows that she baa more money that sense ; the sleek, | blondu Pritish merchant ; and the aristocratic old i'r>"\ white-wigged, studying her card, and pinching her thin bloodless lips with a j>encil. And so the game goes on, hour after hour. All nationalities and sexes are mingled here. Nething is heard save the whirl of the roulette, the compressed hum of conversation, cut into ab intervals by tho sharp, automatic voice issuing from between the moustache and imperial of the croupiers, who preside calm and impassive as destiny at the j tables*. When one tires here, you can go to the Concert Hall and listen to the finest stringed band in the world. The hall is, gorgeously decorated, and there are over 100 performers. Or, if you are murderously inclined, you can retire outside to the pigeon j shooting grounds and take your sport there, The Prince of Monaco believes only ! 'in spoiling the Egyptians," for no resident of his principality is permitted to play. He robs only "ye outside fools." It must be admitted, too, that he makes a good use of the funds, for I believe that Monaco enjoya the peerless privilege of being wholly free from taxes. It makes as much from its gaming tables as enables its inhabitants to live free and happy. If its votaries, however, were all like the prudent man of whom I heard, possibly Monaco would not enjoy this enviable freedom for long. A gentleman came into the hotel where I was staying in San Remo who had won in a few days' play £10,000. A friend— for his benefit, perhaps — told the story of a certain other man who once made a similar haul. He handed tho money over to a trusty servant to convey to his hotel. It vras late when he himself returned, He could find no trace of his servant nor of the money. The police were communicated with, and finally the gentleman returned to his own country and his own home. When he came back he found his trusty servant waiting, him there, with all his winnings safe and sound. He had made sure that his master would not risk the loss of his winnings by trying to follow up his luck. It is needless to add, I suppose, that both master and servant hailed from the land whose inhabitants have the reputation of knowing the value of a "eaxpence." After a stay of four weeks on the Riviera I travelled down through Italy by way of Genoa, Milan, Venice, Perugia, Bologne, and Florence to . Rome ; thenoe on to Naples, where I joined one of (-he Orient

boats en route to Melbourne. The voyage was a most enjoyable one. The sea was ( calm the whole way, almost as a mill-pond. I did not find the Canal or Red Sea oppressively hob— not nearly so oppressive as bho weather at Adelaide. It was one of the older boats of the Company, the Garonne. Though sho is very slow, I found her very comfortable, and the attention and table all that could be desired. On the whole, however, it seems to mo that tho Amorican route possesses distinct advantages over all others, It is shorter, and it might be made much shorter still. I have no doubt this will be so when tho competition of the Canada-Pacific Railway becomes a little more pronounced. Indeed, I sco that already proposals are being made which, if carried out, will reduce the time by at least five clays, thus bringing you within less than a month's journey of England, Even this will be still furthor reduced soon, for when the railway lino now iv progress will be completed to San Diego, a town in Southern California, tho mails will be landed here, and the time-table still furthor shortened. Then this routo has a sea advantage It avoids the oxtremes of heat and cold, and takes tho voyager through the Pacific Ocean, with interludes, of delightful breaks, as at Honolulu. Tho attractions which Canada and tho States offer will, I think, for most people, outweigh those of the Continent. Certainly they do for mo. Oue is among hi 3 own raco, his own language. Ho trave> through a country where he loams for tho iirst time tho meaning of the word " vastness," and where social, ethical and ethnical questions are being wrought out on a scale of unexampled magnifcudo. I sco there is somo talk with you about discontinuing the subsidy to tho San Francisco service. Ido not know tho ins and outs of the question ; but if that means the contracting of your intercourse with America, nothing could be more unwise. No country, with its eye on the future, can afford to leave America out of its reckoning ; for with her untold resources, slie is bound ultimately to control tho markets of tho world. With her limitless means she can afford to bo indifferent to others, and it is astonishing the ignorance that) does prevail regarding the colonies, and New Zealand in particular. There is 1 a notion that New Zealand is some district in Australia, or something of that kind ; and tho height of the ridiculous was reached when a Canadian lady gravely asked mo if vre lired in regular civilised houses out in New Zealand—and sho was a Judge's daughter too. "If they do those things in the green tree," etc. Americana can afford to do without us, but we cannot afford to do without them ; and I hope that the one channel of communication with that country, so far from being mar rowed or stopped, will rather be made easier of transit. The one great barrier in tliis way is the expense of the San Francisco route. It is more costly to travel Homo by this roube than, perhaps, any of the others ; and when ifc ie a question of money, pure and simple, the direct steamers are probably the cheapest. But when it ia a question of moneys worth, of mental enjoyment, of scenery, and on the whole, of pleasure, the American route stands facile princeps. After all I am glad to return to New Zealand. We growl at it a good deal, but, wifch the possible exception of California, I saw no place in all my wanderings where I should more prefer to live and die. To be sure it has its drawbacks. Wo could wish more of this or less of that, but take ifc all in all— in climatic influences, social conditions, material resources, and scenery—it, is equal to any and superior to most. This is true especially in regard to scenery. I saw a good many of the •' big shows " of this kind, of which we hear so much in the Old World. When one sees the harvests of wealth which places like the Riviera, and Switzerland, and Italy reap from the stream of tourists that flow into them year by year, and rrhen one compares what these places can offer in respect to scenery with what New Zealand can, I am convinced that we possess here, in the natural beauty of the country, a mine of untold riches, which has scarcely yet been worked. Of courae these other places will always have the charm of historic memories ; ours wants that, and it is an immeasurable want. It would pay the country, I think, if it could hire Tennyson, or Ruskin, or Gladstone, or some of these makers of history to come out and dio about our lakes or rivers. It would give the flavour of pathos fco them. Ifc would Jend that sanctity to our scenery which constitutes more than half of the charm of the older countries. If tho Yankees, e.g., pos- | seBsed our Southern Alps, our hot and cold lakes, syndicates would make fortunes out of them in no time. Dion Boucicault is probably right in saying "vre have got a big show here, only we don't know how to run it."