I confess that I am a little tired, and I will say so frankly, of continually hearing such phrases as 'What is home without a mother?' 'God bless our mother!' and so forth. I should like to use an Americanism and ask, 'Now, pray, what's the matter with father?'
I cannot help thinking that children would grow just as sensible if they sometimes heard a word of praise bestowed on their fathers instead of being loaded with an endless litany of all the virtues of mother.
Mother's love, mother's devotion, mother's influence, mother's this, and mother's that. Now, father does exist, and occasionally makes himself useful enough to stand in no need of an apology for daring to exist.
He generally loves his children, and sometimes feels that he cannot compete with his wife in their affections, simply because she monopolizes them, not only when they are babies, but after they are out of infancy. He resents it, but, as a rule, resigns himself to what he is made to believe inevitable.
The first duty of a woman is to teach her children to love their father, and, as they grow up, to teach them to respect him and admire him. It is her duty to hide from her children any little thing that might cause them to lose the least respect or admiration towards him.
But, out of one hundred women, will you find one who will not be of opinion that mother is foremost?
When a woman has become a mother, her vanity, though often full of repose, gets the best of her. She is a mother, and thinks she is the most important thing in the world. Yet, as I say elsewhere, it is no extraordinary testimonial for a woman to be fond of her children. All mothers are fond of their children and good to them—why, even the fiercest and cruellest of animals. The feeling is given to them by Nature. We all profit by it; we are all happier for it. For being able to dispense maternal love woman is to be admired and blessed, but not congratulated. A child is part and parcel of a mother. In loving a child a woman loves part of herself. It is not selfishness so much as self-love. When she brings up her children for herself, for the love of herself, without doing her utmost to see that their father gets his share; when, thanks to her own trumpeting, her house rings only with 'God bless our mother!' she is guilty of an act of terrible injustice.
The vanity of some women is such that some expect a pedestal—nay, an altar—when the spring-cleaning of their house is over.
I know men who work with one view only—that of bringing up their children in comfort, giving them a University education, and starting them in life at the cost of any sacrifice.
I know Americans who work like slaves at home so that their wives and daughters may enjoy themselves in Paris and London. For this they demand nothing except an occasional letter, which they sometimes get.
Mother is very tired! She has had to pay calls, go to so many 'at homes,' so many garden-parties! She is exhausted; she wants a change of air immediately. Father is at his office, a dingy, badly-ventilated room. He has had no holiday for a year. He, too, would like a little change of air; but what's the matter with father? He's all right.
In the most humble stations of life we have all of us known that man who gets up at five o'clock in the morning, lights the fire to cook a bit of breakfast for himself, gets his tools and starts to his daily labour, wiping off the dew of the dawn on his boots while many a mother is sleeping. With his hard-earned wages he pays the butcher, the grocer, the milkman and the baker. He stands off the wolf and the bailiff and pays the rent.
What's the matter with father? How blessed that home would be without him!
I know there are loafers who refuse the work that would enable them to support their wives and children. There are also good steady workmen who at home find nothing awaiting them except the sight of a drunken woman, who not only has not prepared a meal for him, but has spent his hard-earned money, and not uncommonly even pawned the baby's shoes to get brandy or gin with. 'What's home without a mother?' 'God bless our mother!'
Do give father a chance, if you please.
THE END
BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD
MAX O'RELL'S WORKS
JOHN BULL AND HIS ISLAND.
JOHN BULL'S WOMANKIND.
THE DEAR NEIGHBOURS!
FRIEND MACDONALD.
DRAT THE BOYS!
JOHN BULL, JUNIOR.
JACQUES BONHOMME.
JONATHAN AND HIS CONTINENT.
A FRENCHMAN IN AMERICA.
JOHN BULL AND CO.
PHARISEES AND CROCODILES.
FRENCH ORATORY.
WOMAN AND ARTIST.
HER ROYAL HIGHNESS WOMAN.
BETWEEN OURSELVES.
RAMBLES IN WOMANLAND.
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS
ON
RAMBLES IN WOMANLAND
'Max O'Rell has in this volume given us another entertaining and delightful dissertation upon woman and her kind. What Max O'Rell does not know about the sex to which he has not the honour to belong is hardly worth knowing.'—St. James's Gazette.
'It is too late in the day to dwell upon the features of style which render the work of Max O'Rell such easy and agreeable reading, and it is unnecessary to illustrate his pretty gift of phrase-making. He has gained his own place among popular authors, and offers no sign of vacating it.'—Pall Mall Gazette.
'We hardly know whether to recommend the book to our readers or not. They will not put it down, once begun—that is certain.'—Spectator.
'Max O'Rell, in his new book, expresses in his own peculiar and entertaining way many witty, satirical, and humorous ideas on the subject of the "eternal woman."'—Daily Express.
'Max O'Rell is always entertaining, and provokes friendly discussion as readily as any writer I know. His new book contains many aphorisms, and some of them are very good.'—British Weekly.
'Max O'Rell supplies, not for the first time, a delightful mixture of commonplace and common-sense.'—Daily Chronicle.
'We have no doubt a great many people will enjoy the book, and the enjoyment will be innocent and wholesome.'—Academy.
'Max O'Rell's chaff is excellent, and all in perfect good taste.'—Pelican.
'The genial author takes up the cudgels on behalf of the better-looking sex in a way which should make his book tremendously popular with lady readers—especially the married ones.... A very entertaining book.'—Golden Penny.
'Contains some delightful reading.... It is a book happy in idea, felicitous in expression, cynically frank and refreshing in its candour.'—Gossip.
'Another collection of amusing and epigrammatic essays.... Max O'Rell, as everyone knows, has the gift of discoursing fluently and amusingly on any subject on which he touches, and to English and American people his good-humoured criticisms are particularly valuable, as they are not only sound and sane in themselves, but they are written from an outside standpoint.'—Morning Leader.
'Women will not feel sorry that Max O'Rell's last work should be his new book on the fair sex. For many a year he has helped us with his gentle raillery, cheered us with his bright humour, and taught us much. "Rambles in Womanland" contains many little personal reminiscences and revelations, and its author's wit is undimmed. The book is full of epigrams, bons mots, and piquant criticisms.'—Gentlewoman.
'Max O'Rell's last book will add to the regret that his genial pen will write no more. Usually there is a tone of gaiety in what he says, but at all times he discusses important problems with all seriousness, and with not a little of the wisdom with which a wide knowledge of the world had endowed him. Max O'Rell's writings have always been notable for witty epigrammatic sentences.... His last work is a bright and engaging book.'—Daily Telegraph.
'With a pretty wit and a turn for epigram this writer can scarcely be dull, and no one will turn to one or other of these chatty chapters without being pleasantly entertained.'—Scotsman.
'Liveliness, amiability, charm, honourable sentiment, humour, every quality that the best kind of French culture produces, are open to anyone who can read English in the pages of Max O'Rell. Every page of these "Rambles" is sprinkled over with aphorisms. ... This most entertaining book.'—Vanity Fair.
'There is much that is entertaining in these short pithy comments on women's characteristics, and occasionally criticism that penetrates deep beneath the surface, and reveals a vast amount of observation and knowledge of the world.... The book is full of smart sayings and clever aphorisms.'—Publishers' Circular.
'Whatever his theme, he is always bright, and the coruscations of his wit are exceedingly diverting.... This last contribution is full of good things, placed in an amusing setting.... These are but a few maxims culled from a crowded garden.... This wonderful little volume.'—Echo.
'"Rambles in Womanland" has between its covers much wisdom, served up with a pretty garnish of wit and that wholesome sauce—common sense. Indeed, Max O'Rell has written nothing better than—in fact, nothing so good as—"Rambles in Womanland." Here we have his riper wisdom, his fuller experience; but while he has gained in wisdom or experience, he has not lost his spiciness or his power of brief, terse epigram.'—Black and White.
'Full of sparkling common-sense.'—T. P.'s Weekly.
'There is enough fresh material to commend these "Rambles in Womanland" to those who have enjoyed rambling through the author's entertaining writings.'—Morning Post.
