HOME. 115
much better and cheaper too. There they sit, hour after hour, boozing and talking nonsense, and forgetting the dear good souls at home who are half starved and weary with waiting for them. Their money goes into the publican's till when it ought to make their wives and children comfortable ; as for the beer they get, it is just so much fools' milk to drown their wits in. Such fellows ought to be horse-whipped, and those who encourage them and live on their spendings deserve to feel the butt end of the whip. Those beershops are the curse of this country — no good ever can come of them, and the evil they do no tongue can tell ; the publics were bad enough, but the beershops are a pest ; I wish the man who made the law to open them had to keep all the families that they have brought to ruin. Beershops are the ene- mies of home, and therefore the sooner their licenses are taken away the better; poor men don't need such places, nor rich men either, they are all worse and no bet- ter, like Tom Norton's wife. Anything that hurts the home is a curse, and ought to be
n6 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
hunted down as gamekeepers do the vermin in the copses.
Husbands should try to make home happy and holy. It is an ill bird that fouls its own nest, a bad man who makes his home wretched. Our house ought to be a little church, with holiness to the Lord over the door, but it ought never to be a prison where there is plenty of rule and order, but little love and no pleasure. Married life is not all sugar, but grace in the heart will keep away most of the sours. Godliness and love can make a man, like a bird in a hedge, sing among thorns and briers, and set others a singing too. It should be the husband's pleasure to please his wife, and the wife's care to care for her husband. He is kind to himself who is kind to his wife. I am afraid some men live by the rule of self, and when that is the case home happiness is a mere sham. When husbands and wives are well yoked, how light their load becomes ! It is not every couple that is a pair, and the more's the pity. In a true home all the strife is which can do the most to make the family happy. A home should be a Bethel, not a Babel. The husband should be the
HOME. 117
houseband, binding all together like a corner stone, but not crushing everything like a mill-stone. Unkind and domineering hus- bands ought not to pretend to be Christians, for they act clean contrary to Christ's commands. Yet a home must be well or- dered, or it will become a Bedlam, and be a scandal to the parish. If the father drops the reins, the family-coach will soon be in the ditch. A wise mixture of love and firmness will do it ; but neither harshness nor softness alone will keep home in happy order. Home is no home where the children are not in obedience, it is rather a pain than a pleasure to be in it. Happy is he who is happy in his children, and happy are the children who are happy in their father. All fathers are not wise. Some are like Eli, and spoil their children. Not to cross our children is the way to make a cross of them. Those who never give their children the rod must not wonder if their children become a rod to them. Solomon says, " Correct thy son, and he shall give thee rest ; yea, he shall give delight to thy soul." I am not clear that anybody wiser than Solomon lives in our time, though
Ii8 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
some think they are. Young colts must be broken in or they will make wild horses. Some fathers are all fire and fury, filled with passion at the smallest fault ; this is worse than the other, and makes home a little hell instead of a heaven. No wind makes the miller idle, but too much upsets the mill altogether. Men who strike in their anger generally miss their mark. When God helps us to hold the reins firmly, but not to hurt the horses' mouths, all goes well. When home is ruled according to God's word, angels might be asked to stay a night with us, and they would not find themselves out of their element.
Wives should feel that home is their place and their kingdom, the happiness of which depends mostly upon them. She is a wicked wife who drives her husband away by her long tongue. A man said to his wife the other day, " Double up your whip ; " he meant, keep you tongue quiet : it is wretched living with such a whip al- ways lashing you. When God gave to men ten measures of speech, they say the women ran away with nine, and in some
HOME. 119
cases I am afraid the saying is true. A dirty, slatternly, gossiping wife is enough to drive her husband mad ; and if he goes to the public house of an evening, she is the cause of it. It is doleful living where the wife, instead of reverencing her hus- band, is always wrangling and railing at him. It must be a good thing when such women are hoarse, and it is a pity that they have not as many blisters on their tongues as they have teeth in their jaws. God save us all from wives who are an- gels in the streets, saints in the church, and devils at home. I have never tasted of such bitter herbs, but I pity from my very heart those who have this diet every day of their lives.
Show me a loving husband, a worthy wife, and good children, and no pair of horses that ever flew along the road could take me in a year where I could see a more pleasing sight. Home is the grandest of all institutions. Talk about parliament, give me a quiet little parlor. Boast about voting and the Reform Bill if you like, but I go in for weeding the little garden, and teaching the children their hymns.
iio JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
Franchise may be a very fine thing, but I should a good deal sooner get the free- hold of my cottage, if I could find the money to buy it. Magna Charta I don't know much about, but if it means a quiet home for everybody, three cheers for it.
I wish our governors would not break up so many poor men's homes by that abominably heartless poor law. It is far more fit for a set of Red Indians than Englishmen. A Hampshire carter told me the other day that his wife and chil- dren were all in the union, and his home broken up, because of the cruel working of the poor law. He had eight little ones and his wife to keep on nine shillings a week, with rent to pay out of it ; on this he could not keep body and soul together; now, if the parish had allowed him a mere trifle, a loaf or two and a couple of shil- lings a week, he would have jogged on, but no, not a penny out of the house ; they might all die of starvation unless they would all go into the workhouse. So, with many bitter tears and heartaches, the poor soul had to sell his few little bits of furni- ture, and he is now a houseless man, and
HOME. 121
yet he is a good hard-working fellow, and served one master for nearly twenty years. Such things are very common, but they ought not to be. Why cannot the really deserving poor have a little help given them ? Why must they be forced into the union house ? Home is the pillar of the British Empire, and ought not to be knocked to pieces by these unchristian laws. I wish I was an orator and could talk politics, I would not care a rush for Whigs or Tories, but I would stand up like a lion for the poor man's home, which, let me tell the Lords and Commons, is as dear to him as their great palaces are to them, and some- times dearer.
If I had no home the world would be a big prison to me. England for me for a country, Surrey for a county, and for a vil- lage give me — no, I shan't tell you,
or you will be hunting John Ploughman up. Many of my friends have emigrated, and are breaking up fresh soil in Australia and America. Though their stone has rolled, I hope they may gather moss, for when they were at home they were like the set- ting hen, which gets no barley. Really
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these hard times make a man think of his wings, but I am tied by the leg to my own home, and, please God, I hope to live and die among my own people. They may do things better in France and Germany, but old England for me, after all.
MEN WHO ARE DOWN.
' Where the carcass is, thither will the eagles be gathered together." Page 124.
NO man's lot is fully known till he is dead : change of fortune is the lot of life. He who rides in the carriage may yet have to clean it. Sawyers change
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124 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
places, and he who is up aloft may have to take his turn in the pit. In less than a thousand years we shall all be bald and poor too, and who knows what he may come to before that ? The thought that we may ourselves be one day under the win- dow should make us careful when we are throwing out our dirty water. With what measure we mete it shall be measured to us again, and therefore let us look well to our dealings with the unfortunate.
Nothing makes me more sick of human nature than to see the way in which men treat others when they fall down the ladder of fortune. " Down with him," they cry, " he always was good for nothing."
" Down among the dead men, down, down, down, Down among the dead men, there let him lie."
Dog won't eat dog, but men will eat each other up like cannibals, and boast of it too. There are thousands in this world who fly like vultures to feed on a tradesman or a merchant as soon as ever he gets into trou- ble. Where the carcass is, thither will the eagles be gathered together. Instead of a little help, they give the sinking man a
MEN WHO ARE DOWN, 125
great deal of cruelty, and cry, " Serves him right. " All the world will beat the man whom fortune buffets. If providence smites him, all men's whips begin to crack. The dog is drowning, and therefore all his friends empty their buckets over him. The tree has fallen, and everybody runs for his hatchet. The house is on fire, and all the neighbors warm themselves. The man has ill luck, therefore his friends give him ill usage; he has tumbled into the road, and they drive their carts over him : he is down, and selfishness cries, " Let him be kept down, then there will be the more room for those who are up."
How aggravating it is when those who knocked you down kick you for not stand- ing up ! It is not very pleasant to hear that you have been a great fool, and there were fifty ways at least of keeping out of your difficulty, only you had not the sense to see them. You ought not to have lost the game ; even Tom Fool can see where you made a bad move. " He ought to have locked the stable door ; " everybody can see that, but nobody offers to buy the loser a new nag. " What a pity he went so far on
126 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
the ice ! " That's very true, but that won't save the poor fellow from drowning. When a man's coat is threadbare, it is an easy- thing to pick a hole in it. Good advice is poor food for a hungry family.
" A man of words and not of deeds, Is like a garden full of weeds."
Lend me a bit of string to tie up the traces, and find fault with my old harness when I get home. Help my old horse to a few oats, and then tell him to mend his pace. Feel for me and I shall be much obliged to you, but mind you feel in your pocket, or else a fig for your feelings.
Most men who go down hill meet with Judas before they get to the bottom. Those whom they helped in their better days generally forget the debt, or repay it with unkindness. The young sucker runs away with the sap from the old tree. The foal drains his mother, and then kicks her. The old saying is, " I taught you to swim, and now you would drown me," and many a time it comes true. The dog wags his tail till he gets the bone, and then he snaps and bites at the man who fed him. Eaten
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bread is forgotten, and the hand that gave it is despised. The candle lights others and is burnt away itself. For the most part, nothing is more easily blotted out than a good turn. Everyone for himself is the world's golden rule, and we all know who takes the hindmost. The fox looks after his own skin, and has no idea of losing his brush out of gratitude to a friend.
A noble spirit always takes the side of the weak, but noble spirits do not often ride along our roads ; they are as scarce as eagles : you can get magpies, and hawks, and kites by the score, but the nobler breed you don't see once in a lifetime. Did you ever hear the crows read the burial service over a dead sheep before they eat it? Well, that's wonderfully like the neigh- bors crying, " What a pity ! How did it happen ? Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! " and then falling to work to get each of them a share of the plunder. Most people will help those who do not need it ; every trav- eller throws a stone where there is a heap already ; all the cooks baste the fat pig, and the lean one gets burned.
128 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
u In times of prosperity friends will be plenty : In times of adversity not one in twenty."
When the wind serves, all aid. While the pot boils, friendship blooms. But flatterers haunt not cottages, and the faded rose no suitor knows. All the neighbors are cous- ins to the rich man, but the poor man's brother does not know him. When we have a ewe and a lamb, everyone cries, "Welcome, Peter!" The squire can be heard for half-a-mile, if he only whispers, but Widow Needy is not heard across the park railings, let her call as she may. Men willingly pour water into a full tub, and give feasts to those who are not hun- gry, because they look to have as good or better in return. Have a goose and get a goose. Have a horse of your own, and then you can borrow one. It is safe to lend barley where the barn is full of wheat, but who lends or gives where there's none? Who, indeed, unless it be some antiquated old soul who believes in his Bible, and loves his Lord, and therefore gives, " hoping for nothing again "?
I have noticed certain gentry who pre- tend to be great friends to a falling man
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because there are some few pickings yet to to be got off his bones. The lawyer and the money-lender will cover the poor fellow with their wings, and then peck at him with their bills till there's nothing left. When these folks are very polite and considerate, poor men had need beware. It was not a good sign when the fox walked into the hen-roost and said, " Good morning to you all, my very dear friends. "
Dov/n men, however, must not despair, for God is yet alive, and he is the friend of the friendless. If there be no one else found to hold out a hand to him who has fallen, the Lord's hand shall not fail to bring deliverance to those who trust him. A good man may be put in the fire, but he cannot be burned. His hope may be drenched but not drowned. He plucks up courage and sets a stout heart to a stiff hill, and gets over rough ground where others lie down and die. While there's life there's hope. Therefore, my friend, if you've tum- bled off the back of prosperity, John Plough- man bids you not lie in the ditch, but up with you and try again. Jonah went to the 9
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bottom of the sea, but he got to shore again all the better for his watery journey.
** Though the bird's in the net, It may get away yet ; Though I'm down in the dust, In my God I will trust, I will hope in him still, And leave all to his will ; For he'll surely appear, And will banish my fear."
Let it never be forgotten that when a man is down he has a grand opportunity for trusting in God. A false faith can only float in smooth water, but true faith, like a life-boat, is at home in storms. If our re- ligion does not bear us up in time of trial what is the use of it? If we cannot be- lieve God when our circumstances appear to be against us we do not believe him at all. We trust a thief as far as we can see him, shall we dare to treat our God in that fashion ? No, no. The Lord is good, and he will yet appear for his servants, and we shall praise his name.
" Down among the dead men " ! No, sir, not I.
" Down among the dead men " ! I will not lie. Up among the hopeful I will ascend, Up among the joyful sing without end.
HOPE.
EGGS are eggs, but some are rotten ; and so hopes are hopes, but many of them are delusions. Hopes are like women, there is a touch of angel about them all, but there are two sorts. My boy Tom has been blowing a lot of birds'-eggs, and threading them on a string; I have been doing the same thing with hopes, and here's a few of them, good, bad, and indifferent.
The sanguine man's hope pops up in a moment like jack-in-the-box ; it works with a spring, and does not go by reason. When- ever this man looks out of the window he sees better times coming, and although it is nearly all in his own eye, and nowhere else, yet to see plum puddings in the moon is a far more cheerful habit than croaking at everything like a two-legged frog. This is the kind of brother to be on the road with on a pitch-dark night, when it pours with rain, for he carries candles in his eyes and a fireside in his heart. Beware of being misled by him, and then you may safely keep his company. His fault is that he counts his chickens before they are hatched, and sells his herrings before they are in the
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132 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
net. All his sparrow's-eggs are bound to turn into thrushes, at the least, if not par- tridges and pheasants. Summer has fully come, for he has seen one swallow. He is sure to make his fortune at his new shop, for he had not opened the door five min- utes before two of the neighbors crowded in, one of them wanted a loaf of bread on trust, and the other asked change for a shil- ling. He is certain that the squire means to give him his custom, for he saw him reading the name over the shop door as he rode past. He does not believe in slips be- tween cups and lips, but makes certainties out of perhapses. Well, good soul, though he is a little soft at times, there is much in him to praise, and I like to think of one of his odd sayings, " Never say die till you are dead, and then it's no use, so let it alone.,, There are other odd people in the world, you see, besides John Ploughman.
My neighbor Shiftless is waiting for his aunt to die, but the old lady has as many lives as nine cats, and my notion is that when she does die she will leave her little money to the Hospital for Diseased Cats or Stray Dogs, sooner than her nephew Jack
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shall have it. Poor creature, he is dread- fully down at the heel, and lays it all on the dear old lady's provoking constitution. How- ever, he hopes on, and gets worse and worse, for while the grass grows the horse starves. He pulls at a long rope who waits for another's death; he who hunts after legacies had need have iron shoes. He that waits for dead men's shoes may long go barefoot ; he who waits for his uncle's cow need not be in a hurry to spread the but- ter. He who lives on hope has a slim diet. If Jack Shiftless had never had an aunt he might have tucked up his shirt sleeves and worked for himself, but they told him that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and that made a spoon of him, so that he is no more use at work than a cow at catching hares. If anybody likes to leave John Ploughman a legacy, he will be very much obliged to them, but they had better not tell him of it for fear he should not plough so straight a furrow ; they had bet- ter make it twice as much, and take him by surprise. On the whole, it would be better to leave it to the Pastors* College or the Stockwell Orphanage, for it will be well
HOPE. 135
used in either case. Did you notice the drawings of these two places a page or two back? Fix them well in your mind's eye. But now we must get back to our subject. I wish people would think less about wind- falls, and plant more apple trees. Hopes that grow out of graves are grave mistakes ; and when they cripple a man's own ener- gies, they are a sort of hangman's rope, dangling round a man's neck.
Some people were born on the first of April, and are always hoping without sense or reason. Their ship is to come home, they are to dig up a pot of gold, or to hear of something to their advantage. Poor sillies, they have wind on the brain, and dream while they are awake. They may hold their mouths open a long while before fried ham and eggs will come flying into them, and yet they really seem to believe that some stroke of luck, some windfall of golden apples, will one day set them up and make gentlemen of them. They hope to ride in their coaches, and by-and-by find them- selves shut up in a place where the coaches won't run over them. You may whistle a long while before goldfinches will hop on
136 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK,
to your thumb. Once in a while one man in a million may stumble against a fortune, but thousands ruin themselves by idle ex- pectations. Expect to get half of what you earn, a quarter of what is your due, and none of what you have lent, and you will be near the mark ; but to look for a fortune to fall from the moon is to play the fool with a vengeance. A man ought to hope within the bounds of reason and the prom- ises of the good old Book. Hope leans on an anchor, but an anchor must have some- thing to hold by and to hold to. A hope without grounds is a tub without a bottom, a horse without a head, a goose without a body, a shoe without a sole, a knife without a blade. Who but Simple Simon would be- gin to build a house at the top ? there must be a foundation. Hope is no hope, but sheer folly, when a man hopes for impossi- bilities, or looks for crops without sowing seed, and for happiness without doing good. Such hopes lead to great boast and small roast ; they act like a jack-o'-lantern, and lead men into the ditch. There's poor Will at the workhouse, who always declares that he owns a great estate, only the right owner
HOPE. 137
keeps him out of it ; his name is Jenyns, or Jennings, and somebody of that name he says has left enough money to buy the Bank of England, and one day he is to have a share of it ; but meanwhile poor Will finds the parish broth poor stuff for such a great gentleman's stomach ; he has prom- ised me an odd thousand or two when he gets his fortune, and I am going to build a castle in the air with it, and ride to it on a broomstick. Poor soul, like a good many others, he has windmills in his head, and may make his will on his thumbnail for anything that he has to give. Depend upon it, ploughing the air is not half so profitable as it is easy : he who hopes in this world for more than he can get by his own earn- ings hopes to find apricots on a crab-tree. He who marries a slovenly, dressy girl, and hopes to make her a good wife, might as well buy a goose and expect it to turn out a milch cow. He who takes his boys to the beershop, and trusts that they will grow up sober, puts his coffee-pot on the fire and ex- pects to see it look bright as new tin. Men cannot be in their senses when they brew with bad malt and look for good beer, or
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set a wicked example and reckon upon raising a respectable family. You may hope and hope till your heart grows sick ; but when you send your boy up the chimney, he'll come down black for all your hoping. Teach a child to lie, and then hope that he will grow up honest ; better put a wasp in a tar barrel and wait till he makes you honey. When will people act sensibly with their boys and girls ? Not till they are sensible themselves.
As to the next world, it is a great pity that men do not take a little more care when they talk of it. If a man dies drunk, somebody or other is sure to say, " I hope he is gone to heaven." It is all very well to wish it, but to hope it is another thing. Men turn their faces to hell and hope to get to heaven ; why don't they walk into the horsepond, and hope to be dry ? Hopes of heaven are solemn things, and should be tried by the word of God. A man might as well hope, as our Lord says, to gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles as look for a happy hereafter at the end of a bad life. There is only one rock to build good hopes on, and that is not Peter, as the pope says,
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neither is it sacraments, as the old Roman beast's cubs tell us, but the merits of the Lord Jesus. All the hope of man is in " the man Christ Jesus." If we believe in him we are saved, for it is written u he that believeth in him hath everlasting life." Mind he has it now, and it is everlasting, so that there is no fear of his losing it. There John Ploughman rests, and he is not afraid of being confounded, for this is a firm footing, and gives him a hope sure and steadfast, which neither life nor death can shake ; but John must not turn preacher, or he may- take the bread out of the parson's mouth, so please remember that presumption is a ladder which will break the mounter's neck, and don't try it, as you love your soul.
SPENDING.
" What their fathers got with the rake they throw away with the shovel/' — Page 141.
TO earn money is easy compared with spending it well ; anybody may dig up potatoes, but it is not one woman in ten that (140)
SPENDING. 141
can cook them. Men do not become rich by what they get, but by what they save. Many men who have money are as short of wit as a hog is of wool ; they are under the years of discretion though they have turned forty, and make ducks and drakes of hun- dreds as boys do of stones. What their fathers got with the rake they throw away with the shovel. After the miser comes the prodigal. Often men say of the spendthrift, his old father was no man's friend but his own, and now the son is no man's enemy but his own : the fact is, the old gentleman went to hell by the lean road, and his son has made up his mind to go there by the fat. As soon as the spendthrift gets his estate it goes like a lump of butter in a greyhound's mouth. All his days are the first of April ; he would buy an elephant at a bargain, or thatch his house with pancakes, nothing is too foolish to tickle his fancy ; his money burns holes in his pocket, and he must squander it, always boasting that his motto is, u Spend, and God will send." He will not stay till he has his sheep before he shears them ; he forestalls his income, draws upon his capital, and so kills the
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goose which lays the golden eggs, and cries out, " Who would have thought it ? " He never spares at the brim, but he means, he says, to save at the bottom. He borrows at high interest of Rob'em, Cheat'em, and Sell'em-up, and when he gets cleaned out, he lays it all either upon the lawyers or else on the bad times. Times never were good for lazy prodigals, and if they were good to them they would be bad for all the world besides. Why men should be in such a hurry to make themselves beggars is a mystery, but nowadays, what with betting at horse-races, laziness, and speculating, there seems to be a regular four-horse coach running to Needham every day. Ready- money must be quite a curiosity to some men, and yet they spend like lords. They are gentlemen without means, which is much the same as plum-puddings without plums.
Spending your money with many a guest, Empties the larder, the cellar, and chest.
If a little gambling is thrown in with the fast living, money melts like a snowball in
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an oven. A young gambler is sure to be an old beggar if he lives long enough.
The devil leads him by the nose, Who the dice so often throws.
There are more asses than those with four legs. I am sorry to say they are found among working men as well as fine gentle- men. Fellows who have no estate but their labor, and no family arms except those they work with, will yet spend their little hard earnings at the beershop or in waste. No sooner are their wages paid than away they go to the " Spotted Dog," or the " Marquis of Granby," to contribute their share of fools' pence towards keeping up the landlord's red face and round corporation. Drinking water neither makes a man sick nor in debt, nor his wife a widow, and yet some men hardly know the flavor of it; but beer guzzled down as it is by many a working man, is nothing better than brown ruin. Dull droning blockheads sit on the ale bench and wash out what little sense they ever had. However, I believe that farming people are a deal better managers
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with their money than Londoners are, for though their money is very little, their families look nice and tidy on Sundays. True, the rent isn't so bad in a village as in the town, and there's a bit of garden ; still, those Londoners earn a deal of money, and they have many chances of buying in a cheap market which the poor countryman has not ; and, on the whole, I think 'tis very good management which keeps a family going on ten shillings a week in the country, and bad management that can't pay its way on five-and-twenty in London. Why, some families are as merry as mice in malt on very small wages, and others are as wretched as rats in a trap on double the amount. Those who wear the shoe know best where it pinches, but economy is a fine thing, and makes ninepence go further than a shilling. Some make soup out of a flint, and others can't get nourishment out of beef gravy. Some go to shop with as much wit as Samson had in both his shoul- ders, but no more ; they do not buy well ; they have not sense to lay out their money to advantage. Buyers ought to have a hundred eyes, but these have not even half
SPENDING. 145
a one, and they do not open that ; well was it said that if fools did not go to market bad wares would never be sold. They never get a pennyworth for their penny, and this often because they are on the hunt for cheap things, and forget that generally the cheap- est is the dearest, and one cannot buy a good shilling's worth of a bad article. When there's five eggs a penny, four of them are rotten. Poor men often buy in very small quantities, and so pay through the nose ; for a man who buys by the pennyworth keeps his own house and another man's. Why not get two or three weeks' supply at once, and so get it cheaper ? Store is no sore. People are often saving at the wrong place, and spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth of tar ; others look after small savings and for- get greater things ; they are penny wise and pound foolish ; they spare at the spigot, and let all run away at the bunghole. Some buy things they don't want, because they are great bargains ; let me tell them that what they do not want is dear at a farthing. Fine dressing makes a great hole in poor people's means. Whatever does John Ploughman, and such as work hard
146 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
for their daily bread, want with silks and satins ? It's like a blacksmith's wearing a white silk apron. I hate to see a ser- vant girl or a laborer's daughter tricked out as if she thought people would take her for a lady. Why, everybody knows a tadpole from a fish, nobody mistakes a poppy for a rose. Give me a woman in a nice neat dress, clean and suitable, and for beauty she will beat the flashy young hussies all to pieces. If a girl has got a few shillings to spare, let her buy a good bit of flannel for the winter, before she is tempted with bright looking but useless finery. Buy what suits yourself to wear, and if it does not suit other people to look at, let them shut their eyes. All women are good — either for something or. for nothing, and their dress will generally tell you which.
I suppose we all find the money goes quite fast enough, but after all it was made to circulate, and there's no use in hoarding it. It is bad to see our money become a run- away servant, and leave us, but it would be worse to have it stop with us and become our master. We should try, as our minister says, " to find the golden mean," and neither
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De lavish nor stingy. He has his money best spent who has the best wife. The hus- band may earn money, but only the wife can save it. "A wise woman buildeth her house, but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands. " The wife it seems, accord- ing to Solomon, is the builder or the real puller down. A man cannot prosper till he gets his wife's leave. A thrifty housewife is better than a great income. A good wife and health are a man's best wealth. Bless their hearts, what should we do without them ? It is said they like to have their own way, but then the proverb says, a wife ought to have her will during life, because she cannot make one when she dies. The weather is so melting that I cannot keep up this talk any longer, and therefore I shall close with an oldfashioned rhyme —
" Heaven bless the wives, they fill our hives With little bees and honey ! They soothe life's shocks, they mend our socks — But don't they spend the money ! "
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES.
The sign of the " Good Woman."
WE pulled up the horses in the last chapter at the sign of the " Good Woman;" and as there is good entertain- ment for man, if not for beast, under that sign, we will make a stay of it, and dip our (148)'
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES. 149
pen into some of that superfine ink which has no galls in it. When he writes on so fair a subject, John Ploughman must be on his best behavior.
It is astonishing how many old sayings there are against wives, you may find nine- teen to the dozen of them. The men years ago showed the rough side of their tongues whenever they spoke of their spouses. Some of these sayings are downright shock- ing; as, for instance, that very wicked one, " Every man has two good days with his wife — the day he marries her, and the day he buries her; " and that other, " He that loseth his wife and a farthing, has a great loss of the farthing."
I recollect an old ballad that Gaffer Brooks used to sing about a man's being better hung than married, it shows how common it was to abuse the married life. It is al- most too bad to print it, but here it is, as near as I remember it : —
" There was a victim in a cart, One day for to be hang'd, And his reprieve was granted, And the cart made for to stand.
150 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
* Come marry a wife, and save your life,'
The judge aloud did cry ;
* Oh, why should I corrupt my life ? '
The victim did reply.
* For here's a crowd of every sort,
And why should I prevent their sport ? The bargain's bad in every part,
The wife's the worst — drive on the cart.'"
Now this rubbish does not prove that the women are bad, but that their husbands are good for nothing, or else they would not make up such abominable slanders about their partners. The rottenest bough cracks first, and it looks as if the male side of the house was the worse of the two, for it cer- tainly has made up the most grumbling proverbs. There have, no doubt, been some shockingly bad wives in the world, who have been provoking enough to make a man say,
" If a woman were as little as she is good, A peashell would make her a gown and a hood."
But how many thousands have there been of true helpmeets, worth far more than their weight in gold ! There is only one
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES. 151
Job's wife mentioned in the Bible and one Jezebel, but there are no end of Sarahs and Rebekahs. I am of Solomon's mind, that, as a rule, he that findeth a wife findeth a good thing. If there's one bad shilling taken at the grocer's all the neighbors hear of it, but of the hundreds of good ones re- port says nothing. A good woman makes no noise, and no noise is made about her, but a shrew is noted all over the parish. Taking them for all in all, they are most angelical creatures, and a great deal too good for half the husbands.
It is much to the woman's credit that there are very few old sayings against hus- bands, although, in this case, sauce for the goose would make capital sauce for the gander ; and the mare has as good reasons for kicking as the horse has. They must be very forbearing, or they would have given the men a Roland for every Oliver. Pretty dears, they may be rather quick in their talk, but is it not the nature of bells and belles to have tongues that swing easy ? They cannot be so very bad after all, or they would have had their revenge for the many cruel things which are said against
152 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK,
them ; and if they are a bit masterful, their husbands cannot be such very great victims, or they would surely have sense enough to hold their tongues about it. Men don't care to have it known when they are thoroughly well henpecked, and I feel pretty certain that the old sayings are noth- ing but chaff, for if they were true, men would never dare to own it.
A true wife is her husband's better half, his lump of delight, his flower of beauty, his guardian angel, and his heart's treasure. He says to her, " I shall in thee most happy be. In thee, my choice, I do rejoice. In thee I find content of mind. God's ap- pointment is my contentment." In her company he finds his earthly heaven ; she is the light of his home ; the comfort of his soul, and (for this world) the soul of his comfort. Whatever fortune God may send him, he is rich so long as she lives. His rib is the best bone in his body.
The man who weds a loving wife, Whate'er betideth him in life,
Shall bear up under all ; But he that finds an evil mate, No good can come within his gate,
His cup is filFd with gall.
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES. 153
A good husband makes a good wife. Some men can neither do without wives nor with them ; they are wretched alone in what is called single blessedness, and they make their homes miserable when they get mar- ried ; they are like Tompkin's dog, which could not bear to be loose, and howled when it was tied up. Happy bachelors are likely to be happy husbands, and a happy husband is the happiest of men. A well- matched couple carry a joyful life between them, as the two spies carried the cluster of Eshcol. They are a brace of birds of Paradise. They multiply their joys by sharing them, and lessen their troubles by dividing them ; this is fine arithmetic. The wagon of care rolls lightly along as they pull together, and when it drags a little heavily, or there's a hitch anywhere, they love each other all the more, and so lighten the labor.
When a couple fall out there are always faults on both sides, and generally there is a pound on one and sixteen ounces on the other. When a home is miserable it is as often the husband's fault as the wife's. Darby is as much to blame as Joan, and
154 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
sometimes more. If the husband won't keep sugar in the cupboard, no wonder his wife gets sour. Want of bread makes want of love ; lean dogs fight. Poverty generally rides home on the husband's back, for it is not often the woman's place to go out work- ing for wages. A man down our parts gave his wife a ring with this on it, 4< If thee don't work, thee shan't eat." He was a brute. It is no business of hers to bring in the grist — she is to see it is well used and not wasted ; therefore, I say, short commons are not her fault. She is not the bread-winner, but the bread-maker. She earns more at home than any wages she can get abroad.
It is not the wife who smokes and drinks away the wages at the " Brown Bear," or the u Jolly Topers. " One sees a drunken woman now and then, and it's an awful sight, but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred it is the man who comes home tipsy, and abuses the children — the woman seldom does that. The poor drudge of a wife is a teetotaler, whether she likes it or not, and gets plenty of hot water as well as cold. Women are found fault with for
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES. 155
often looking into the glass, but that is not so bad a glass as men drown their senses in. The wives do not sit boozing over the tap-room fire ; they, poor souls, are shiver- ing at home with the baby, watching the clock (if there is one), wondering when their lords and masters will come home, and crying while they wait. I wonder they don't strike. Some of them are about as wretched as a cockchafer on a pin, or a mouse in a cat's mouth. They have to nurse the sick girl, and wash the dirty boy, and bear with the crying and noise of the children, while his lordship puts on his hat, lights his pipe, and goes off about his own pleasure, or comes in at his own time to find fault with his poor dame for not getting him a fine supper. How could he expect to be fed like a fighting-cock when he brought home so little money on Saturday night, and spent so much in worshipping Sir John Barleycorn ? I say it, and I know it, there's many a house where there would be no scolding wife if there was not a skulk- ing, guzzling husband. Fellows not fit to be cut up for mops drink and drink till all is blue, and then turn on their poor hacks
156 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
for not having more to give them. Don't tell me, I say it, and will maintain it, a woman can't help being vexed when, with all her mending and striving, she can't keep house because her husband won't let her. It would provoke any of us if we had to make bricks without straw, keep the pot boiling without fire, and pay the piper out of an empty purse. What can she get out of the oven when she has neither meal nor dough ? You bad husbands, you are thoroughbred sneaks, and ought to be hung up by your heels till you know better.
They say a man of straw is worth a woman of gold, but I cannot swallow it; a man of straw is worth no more than a woman of straw ; let old sayings lie as they like; Jack is no better than Jill, as a rule. When there is wisdom in the husband there's generally gentleness in the wife, and between them the old wedding wish is worked out : " One year of joy, another of comfort, and all the rest of content." Where hearts agree, there joy will be. United hearts death only parts. They say mar- riage is not often merry-age, but very com- monly mar-age ; well, if so, the coat and
!
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES. 157
waistcoat have as much to do with it as the gown and petticoat. The honeymoon need not come to an end ; and when it does it is often the man's fault for eating all the honey, and leaving nothing but moonshine : when they both agree that whatever be- comes of the moon they will each keep up their share of honey, there's merry living. When a man dwells under the sign of the cat's foot, where faces get scratched, either his wife did not marry a man or he did not marry a woman. If a man cannot take care of himself, his wit must be as scant as the wool of a blue dog. I don't pity most of the men martyrs ; I save my pity for the women. When the Dunmow flitch is lost, neither of the pair will eat the bacon ; but the wife is the most likely to fast for the want of it. Every herring must hang by its own gill, and every person must account for his own share in home quarrels, but John Ploughman can't bear to see all the blame laid on the women. Whenever a dish is broke, the cat did it, and whenever there is mischief, there's a woman at the bottom of it : here are two as pretty lies as you will meet with in a month's march.
158 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
There's a why for every wherefore, but the why for family jars does not always lie with the housekeeper. I know some women have long tongues, then the more's the pity that the husbands should set them going; but for the matter of talk, just look into a bar-parlor when the men's jaws are well oiled with liquor, and if any woman living can talk faster or be more stupid than the men, my name is not John Plough- man.
When I had got about as far as this, in stepped our minister, and he said, "John, you've got a tough subject, a cut above you ; I'll lend you a rare old book to help you over the stile." " Well, sir/' said I, " a little help is worth a great deal of fault- finding, and I shall be uncommonly obliged to you." He sent me down old William Seeker's " Wedding Ring," and a real wise fellow that Seeker was. I could not do any other than pick out some of his pithy bits ; they are very flavory, and such as are likely to glue themselves to the mem- ory. He says, " Hast thou a soft heart ? It is of God's breaking. Hast thou a sweet wife ? She is of God's making. The He-
I
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES. 159
brews have a saying, ' He is not a man that hath not a woman/ Though man alone may be good, yet it is not good that man should be alone. ' Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above/ A wife, though she be not a perfect gift, is a good gift, a beam darted from the Sun of mercy. How happy are those marriages where Christ is at the wedding ! Let none but those who have found favor in God's eyes find favor in yours. Husbands should spread a mantle of charity over their wives' infirmities. Do not put out the candle because of the snuff. Husbands and wives should provoke one another to love, and they should love one another notwithstand- ing provocations. The tree of love should grow up in the midst of the family as the tree of life grew in the garden of Eden. Good servants are a great blessing ; good children a greater blessing; but a good wife is the greatest blessing; and such a help let him seek for her that wants one ; let him sigh for her that hath lost one ; let him delight in her that enjoys one."
To come down from the old Puritan's roast beef to my own pot-herbs, or, as they
160 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK,
say, to put Jack after gentleman, I will tell my own experience, and have done.
My experience of my first wife, who will I hope live to be my last, is much as fol- lows : matrimony came from Paradise and leads to it. I never was half so happy before I was a married man as I am now. When you are married your bliss begins. I have no doubt that where there is much love there will be much to love, and where love is scant faults will be plentiful. If there is only one good wife in England, I am the man who put the ring on her finger, and long may she wear it. God bless the dear soul if she can put up with me, she shall never be put down by me.
If I were not married to-day, and saw a suitable partner, I would be married to- morrow morning before breakfast. What think you of that ? " Why," says one, " I think John would get a new wife if he were left a widower." Well, and what if he did, how could he better show that he was happy with his first ? I declare I would not say, as some do, that they married to have some one to look after the children ; I should marry to have some one to look
A GOOD WORD FOR WIVES. 161
after myself. John Ploughman is a socia- ble soul, and could not do in a house by himself. One man, when he married his fourth wife, put on the ring —
" If I survive, I'll make it five."
What an old Bluebeard ! ! Marriages are made in heaven : matrimony in itself is good, but there are fools who turn meat into poison, and make a blessing into a curse. " This is a good rope," said Pedley, " I'll hang myself with it." A man who has sought his wife from God, and married her for her character, and not merely for her figure head, may look for a blessing on his choice. They who join their love in God above, who pray to love, and love to pray, will find that love and joy will never cloy.
He who respects his wife will find that she respects him. With what measure he metes it shall be measured to him again, good measure, pressed down, and running over. He who consults his spouse will have a good counsellor. I have heard our minister say, " Women's instincts are often truer than man's reason;" they jump at a ii
1 62 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
thing at once, and are wise offhand. Say what you will of your wife's advice, it's as likely as not you will be sorry you did not take it. He who speaks ill of women should remember the breast he was nursed at, and be ashamed of himself. He who ill-treats his wife ought to be whipped at the cart tail, and would not I like a cut at him ! I would just brush a fly or two off, trust me for that. So no more at present, as the thatcher said when he had cleared every dish on the table.
MEN WITH TWO FACES.
" Drink or drone will he, as the case may be."
EVEN bad men praise consistency. Thieves like honest men, for they are the best to rob. When you know where to find a man, he has one good
(163)
164 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
point at any rate ; but a fellow who howls with the wolves, and bleat swith the sheep, gets nobody's good word unless it be the devil's. To carry two faces under one hat is, however, very common. Many roost with the poultry and go shares with Rey- nard. Many look as if butter would not melt in their mouths, and yet can spit fire when it suits their purpose. I read the other day an advertisement about reversible coats ; the tailor who sells them must be making a fortune. Holding with the hare and running with the hounds is still in fashion. Consistency is about as scarce in the world as musk in a dog-kennel.
You may trust some men as far as you can see them, but no further, for new company makes them new men. Like water, they boil or freeze according to the temperature. Some do this because they have no principles ; they are of the weather- cock persuasion, and turn with the wind. You might as well measure the moon for a suit of clothes as know what they are. They believe in that which pays best. They always put up at the Golden Fleece. Their mill grinds any grist which you
MEN WITH TWO FACES. 165
bring to it if the ready money is forthcoming ; and they go with every wind, north, south, east, west, north-east, north-west, south- east, south-west, nor'-nor'-east, south-west- by-south, or any other in all the world. Like frogs, they can live on land or water, and are not at all particular which it is. Like a cat, they always fall on their feet, and will stop anywhere if you butter their toes. They love their friends dearly, but their love lies in the cupboard, and if that be bare, like a mouse, their love runs off to some other larder. They say, " Leave you, dear girl? Never, while you have a shilling." How they scuttle off if you come to the bad ! Like rats, they leave a sinking ship.
When good cheer is lacking, Such friends will be packing.
Their heart follows the pudding. While the pot boils they sit by the fire ; when the meal tub is empty they play at turnabout. They believe in the winning horse ; they will wear anybody's coat who may choose to give them one ; they are to be bought by the dozen, like mackerel, but he who gives
166 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK,
a penny for them wastes his money. Profit is their god, and whether they make it out of you or your enemy, the money is just as sweet to them. Heads or tails are alike to them so long as they win. High road or back lane, all's the same to them so that they can get home with the loaf in the basket. They are friends to the goose, but they will eat his giblets. So long as the water turns their wheel, it is none the worse for being muddy ; they would burn their mother's coffin if they were short of firing, and sell their own father if they could turn a penny by the old gentle- man's bones. They never lose a chance of minding the main chance.
Others are shifty because they are so desperately fond of good fellowship. " Hail fellow, well met," is their cry, be it traveller or highwayman. They are so good-natured that they must needs agree with everybody. They are cousins of Mr. Anything. Their brains are in other people's heads. If they were at Rome they would kiss the pope's toe, but when they are at home they make themselves hoarse with shouting, " No Popery."
MEN WITH TWO FACES. 167
They admire the Vicar of Bray, whose principle was to be the Vicar of Bray whether the Church was Protestant or Popish. They are mere time-servers, in hopes that the times may serve them. They belong to the party which wears the yellow colors, not in their button-holes, but in the palms of their hands. Butter them, and like turnips you may eat them. Pull the rope, and like the bells they will ring as you choose to make them, funeral knell or wedding peal, come to church or go to the devil. They have no backbones ; you may bend them like willow wands, backwards or forwards, whichever way you please. Like oysters, anybody may pepper them who can open them. Sweet to you and sweet to your enemy. They blow hot and cold. They try to be Jack-o'-both sides, and deserve to be kicked like a foot- ball by both parties.
Some are hypocrites by nature ; slippery as eels, and piebald like Squire Smoothey's mare. Like a drunken man, they could not walk straight if they were to try. Like corn-dealers, they are rogues ingrain. They wind in and out like a Surrey lane.
1 68 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK,
They were born of the breed of St. Judas. The double shuffle is their favorite game, and honesty their greatest hatred. Honey is on their tongue, but gall in their hearts. They are mongrel bred, like the gipsy's dog. Like a cat's feet they show soft pads, but carry sharp claws. If their teeth are not rotten their tongues are, and their hearts are like dead men's graves. If speaking the truth and lying were equally profitable, they would naturally prefer to lie, for, like dirt to a pig, it would be congenial. They fawn, and flatter, and cringe, and scrape, for like snails they make their way by their slime ; but all the while they hate you in their hearts, and only wait for a chance to stab you. Beware of those who come from the town of Deceit. Mr. Facing-both- ways, Mr. Fair-speech, and Mr. Two- tongues are neighbors who are best at a distance. Though they look one way, as boatmen do, they are pulling the other; they are false as the devil's promises, and as cruel as death and the grave.
Religious deceivers are the worst of vermin, and I fear they are as plentiful as rats in an old wheatstack.