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John Bull’s Womankind
John Bull’s Womankind
(Les Filles de John Bull) BY THE AUTHOR OF “John Bull and his Island” HALF-A-CROWN: CLOTH, THREE-AND-SIX. LONDON: FIELD & TUER; SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO.; HAMILTON, ADAMS & CO. (English Copyright Edition. All Rights Reserved.) By Appointment to H.R.H. the Princess of Wales. By Appointment to Her Majesty the Queen. By Appointment to H.I.M. Empress of Russia. REDFERN, Ladies’ Tailors and Habit Makers COWES, ISLE OF WIGHT; 26, CONDUIT STREET, LONDON; PARIS; and NEW YORK. “At t
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TO MRS. JOHN BULL.
TO MRS. JOHN BULL.
Dear Madam, Now please not to frown, still less to cry out, “Shocking!” I assure you, you may turn over the leaves of this book from beginning to end without fear of encountering a single piece of indiscretion. I know that fresh air and cold water are your delight. You dearly love to shiver at the contact of a dripping sponge; but your door is carefully closed, and I have seen nothing. It is not your undraped photograph that I publish, it is the litany of your good qualities that I sing. May I b
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HORS D’ŒUVRE.
HORS D’ŒUVRE.
In proposing the toast to the ladies at a City dinner, one evening, Lord Derby expressed himself in these terms:— “Before appointing an Englishman to any post of importance, the first question the electors ask is: “‘ What kind of a wife has he? ’” And, indeed, the English, who introduce diplomacy into everything, place discretion above all the qualifications that an English candidate sends to the members of an electing board, in the form of testimonials. The chief thing required of a man who is
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I.
I.
Seeing that the word flirtation seems to have been definitely received into the French vocabulary, it is natural to suppose that our language contained no equivalent for it, or that the thing itself never existed in France. Flirtation is, in fact, an essentially English pastime. No one flirts in France: we are more serious than that in love affairs. Some etymologists have thought that the verb to flirt was formed from fleurette in the expression conter fleurette ; but the best authorities agree
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II.
II.
I never much admired our manner of making love declarations in France. We go down on our knees, in our nineteenth-century costume, at the feet of a woman whom we allow from her superior height to contemplate us in all our servility. With her sweet, downcast eyes, this little demon of observation takes an inventory of our slightest blemishes: of our hair, that is not so luxuriant as it was; of our rounded upturned eyes, that appear to be all whites; of a small wart, that we fondly fancied no one
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III.
III.
John Bull owes his success in this world—and perhaps in the next also—to his indifference towards woman, an indifference that he is fortunate enough to owe to his peculiar organisation and the uniform temperature of his blood, and which not only enables him to keep a cool head before the charms of the fair sex, but also to maintain them in a complete state of submission. The submission of woman to man is the basis of every solid social system. In John’s eyes, woman is almost a necessary evil; a
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IV.
IV.
Marrying one of John Bull’s daughters is not all honey. One cannot help wondering how it comes to pass that the English, who for centuries have been reforming their religion in every sense imaginable, have never yet turned their attention to making the language of the Church as choice and euphemistic as is the language of good society. The Protestant Church alone seems to have retained the sole privilege of calling a spade a spade, or something worse still. At the ordinary services, it does not
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V.
V.
I am not jealous; yet, every time I reach home after a ball, I experience a certain feeling of relief and satisfaction: I cannot help it. When you have seen your wife whirled round a room, in the arms of a score of men, who have plunged their eyes in her corsage , inhaled the perfume of her hair, held her waist and hand, felt her near them at the distance of a hair’s breadth, you are happy to find yourself once more alone with her, and to feel that, after all, she is your very own. Besides, ther
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VI.
VI.
The French women are more graceful and more piquant than the English; but they are less healthy and less fresh-looking. Their eyes are brighter, their mouths much prettier, and their figures a great deal finer; but their complexion is not so clear, nor nearly so fine. Regular walks and baths are the secret of the health and beauty of the English woman. She fears neither draught nor douche. She sleeps with her window open, and, on rising, inundates herself with cold water. In winter weather, the
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VII.
VII.
It is the name of a thing that shocks an English woman, not so much the thing itself. That which we call a pair of indispensables goes by the name of a pair of unmentionables over here. If you remark in a room, that the trousers Mr. So-and-so wears are always irreproachable, you will send all the ladies behind their fans. If you were to follow up the subject, you would soon create a veritable panic in the room. But go to any athletic meeting—to Lord’s Cricket Ground, or Lillie Bridge—there you w
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VIII.
VIII.
According to the account of Lady John Manners, this is how the ladies of the upper classes in England fare. As this haulte dame should be an authority on the matter, not only will we accept her statements as perfectly correct, but we will also profit by her observations to draw some judicious conclusions. “In well-appointed sporting country houses,” says Lady John Manners, [3] “before the ladies—indeed, before most of the gentlemen—leave their beds, dainty little services of tea and bread-and-bu
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IX.
IX.
In a country where, as M. Taine says in his History of English Literature , religion and morality are coins which you must have in your pocket either good or counterfeit, the monde où l’on s’amuse is here the monde où l’on se cache . The demi-mondaine is not a prominent personage over here, and the Englishman who glides into her house at nightfall, with his coat-collar turned up to his ears, and his hat lowered over his eyes, would never think of taking her to a theatre or of putting her into hi
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X.
X.
Woman is an objet d’art to be handled with circumspection, and when one has a few little truths to say to this last great gift of the Creator to man, one must set about it carefully, I admit. Nevertheless, seeing that woman was given to us for our companion, more or less with our consent, why should we not be able to say to her politely, amiably, but frankly, addressing her collectively in her person: Come, ladies, let us see if we cannot arrive at some understanding. What do you want? I hear yo
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XI.
XI.
The young girl is the heroine of English society. Free and accessible, she is more attractive as a woman, but perhaps less tempting as a future wife, than the timid and sweet young French girl. She walks out alone, travels alone, and gives you a shake of the hand that is enough to put your shoulder-blade out of joint. Her favourite occupations are walking and riding, and the game of lawn-tennis, which develops her form and her taste for flirtation. She carries her head erect, her shoulders squar
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XII.
XII.
When you hear the postman’s loud rat-tat at your door, do not rush with joy to your letter-box, for instead of a reply which you have been impatiently awaiting, you may find a little snare, conceived in the following terms: Mrs. John Bull requests the pleasure of Mr. X’s. company. Music at 9 o’clock. R.S.V.P. R.S.V.P.! The hint is good, act upon it: Résistez Si Vous Pouvez. Use a little diplomacy, of course: “Mr. X. presents his compliments to Mrs. John Bull, and regrets exceedingly that an enga
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XIII.
XIII.
Say to an English Conservative that Gladstone is an old rascal, and Chamberlain a dangerous demagogue, and he will exclaim: “You are right.” Say to a Liberal that Salisbury is a humbug, Stafford Northcote an old woman, and Randolph Churchill a political gamin , and he will reply: “You have the measure of them.” But venture to speak jokingly of the Queen, and your Englishman, be he Liberal or Conservative, will fly at you like a bull-dog. The reason is simple enough. According to the Conservative
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XIV.
XIV.
In an English home the governess is a little more than a servant, a great deal less than a guest. Her wages are inferior to those of the cook, who seldom fails to remind her of it when she has a chance. The butler patronises her, and if he sees her looking a little pale, he will gallantly offer her a glass of port on his own responsibility. The word sir almost rises to the lips of the poor outcast when she addresses this important personage. Her position is humiliating and wretched. Everyone in
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XV.
XV.
( John Bull, Esquire, and Monsieur , his neighbour, talk on matrimonial matters. ) J. B. —“So, my dear fellow, you are going to be married, it is quite decided.” Monsieur. —“Yes, quite.” J. B. —“And who is the lady, if I may be so bold?” Monsieur. —“A charming English girl.” J. B. —“Ah! charming, of course.... But what else?” Monsieur. —“What else? But that is already a great deal, it seems to me. What would you have, my dear sir? A pair of heavenly blue eyes....” J. B. —“I congratulate you.” Mo
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XVI.
XVI.
( The scene is laid in a small drawing-room. The two friends are seated, engaged in needlework. ) Lady B. —“How beautifully you embroider, dear! You use your needle to perfection. That little pink bird is exquisitely shaded. I should never get to blend my colours as you do. And how your fingers fly!” La Comtesse. —“ Ah ça! you think, I daresay, that we Frenchwomen only know how to read novels.” Lady B. —“Indeed I don’t; on the contrary, I know very well that you are wonderfully clever with your
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XVII.
XVII.
The Blue Ribbon Army numbers at the present time more than 600,000 soldiers, it is said. A little patience, and the water drinkers will soon be as numerous as the drunkards. What spectacles of eccentric contrasts! Picture to yourself children, urchins of three or four years old, decorated with the blue ribbon; men and women persuaded into pledging themselves in writing that they will never touch wine, beer, or any other alcoholic drink. What folly! and, at the same time, what a confession of wea
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XVIII.
XVIII.
Whitaker’s Almanack for 1884 announces sixteen new religious sects or associations certified to the Registrar-General. To my great regret, I notice the disappearance of the Rational Christians. This leaves a net gain of fifteen associations: a very respectable figure, it must be admitted. Here are the names of the sixteen new sects or associations in question:— Children’s Special Service Association; Christian Soldiers; Church Army; Church of England (unattached); Free Salvation Army; Gospel Arm
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I.
I.
The Reverend Bartholomew Goodman, vicar of E... was the only representative of orthodoxy in that pretty little town of Devonshire. Though rheumatic, this salaried believer in apostolic succession was, correctly speaking, neither saint nor martyr. He had a wife and children, and, one year with another, his living brought him in about five hundred pounds. He dogmatised but little, he would have feared to fail in respect towards his Alma Mater , the Anglican Church, in seeking to defend her, or pro
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II.
II.
One morning in the spring of the year 188... Mr. Goodman, vicar of the parish of All Angels, sat in his study writing his two sermons for the following Sunday. As we have said elsewhere, sermons are read from the pulpit in England; at least, this is the practice of Anglican clergymen, and we have explained the reason why. Now, as for centuries past, the hundreds of religious reviews, magazines, and newspapers, have been publishing sermons, when a clergyman has a rather limited allowance of imagi
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III.
III.
In the parish of All Angels, the children of the poor went every Sunday to a Bible-class held in the church schoolroom. The first class was under the direction of the Vicar’s wife. Proceedings commenced at three with prayer; then a hymn was sung, and the classes began. In these Sunday classes, passages of the Bible are read and explained to the children by the teacher. On the Sunday in question, Mrs. Goodman had chosen as the subject of her lesson the twenty-eighth chapter of Isaiah. As soon as
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XX. APOTHEOSIS OF THE DAUGHTERS OF JOHN BULL.
XX. APOTHEOSIS OF THE DAUGHTERS OF JOHN BULL.
(Scenes of disappointment in Paradise in the year 19..) Jennie. —“My dear Susie! At last! How glad I am to see you!” Susie. —“At last! my dear: why at last ? I came straight up ... without any hitch, as you may imagine.” Jennie. —“Oh! of course ... I only thought ... that is, you used to long so after Paradise ... that I began to wonder that you were so long making up your mind to leave the vale of tears and misery: ... would you believe there were moments when I used to be almost afraid you wou
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XXI. John Bull and his Island: Postscript.
XXI. John Bull and his Island: Postscript.
Pauperism has been, for some time, the question of the day in England, the burning question, as they say over here. John is making theories. Theories! he was wont to exclaim, the British nation can afford to laugh at theories. This is the remark that a Conservative, possessed of more pretension than foresight, made one day before Thomas Carlyle. “My dear sir,” replied the apostle of force in England, “the French nobility of a hundred years ago said they could afford to laugh at theories. Then ca
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APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
( A. )—At the Dublin Commission Court, before Mr. Justice Lawson, on Saturday, the 7th June, 1884, Brian Dennis Molloy, a wretched-looking man of 45, son of a magistrate for the Co. Mayo, and who, on the death of his father, will become entitled to £1,000 per annum, was indicted for bigamy. The prisoner has married five times, the last person with whom he went through the ceremony being his own first cousin, a lady of about 40, Miss Robertina Greene, who has an income in her own right of £400 pe
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