JOHN BULL UP TO DATE.
Would you know what an Englishman is--let him be a duke's son, officer
in Her Majesty's service, student, schoolboy, clerk, shopboy, gentleman,
or street rough?
Well, an Englishman is a lusty fellow, fearless, hardy, and strong-knit,
iron-muscled, and mule-headed, who, rather than let go a ball that he
holds firmly in his arms, will perform feats of valor; who, to pass this
ball between two goals, will grovel in the dust, reckless of lacerated
shoulders, a broken rib or jawbone, and will die on a bed of suffering
with a smile upon his lips if he can only hear, before closing his eyes,
that his side has won the game.
Multiply this Englishman by the number of the stars in the firmament,
and you will arrive at a pretty correct idea of England's martial, if
not military, force.
The Englishman does nothing by halves. His favorite adjective is
_thorough_. The more difficulties he has to surmount the more he is in
his element; he is a curious mixture of lion, mule, and octopus.
Outdoing Milo of Crotona, he would manage to withdraw his wrist from the
cleft of the oak.
Mr. Gladstone said one day (many years ago): "When I work, I work as
hard as I can; when I run, I run as fast as I can; when I jump, I jump
as far as I can." He might add now: "When I get into a mess, I plunge
into it over head and shoulders."
* * * * *
To three qualities I ascribe the success of John Bull: his tenacity, the
coolness of his head, and the thickness of his skin.
Take an Englishman to visit the ruins of some old castle: he will not
rest until he has thrust his nose into every nook and cranny of the
place, and climbed the most crumbling walls, at the risk of breaking his
neck over and over again. He has seen nothing if he has not seen all.
You may think yourself lucky if he has not profited by your back being
turned for a moment, to go and hoist the Union Jack on the summit of the
highest tower. That is a little weakness of his that makes him a trifle
inconvenient occasionally, I must say; but, you see, one cannot get on
in this world without a certain aptitude for making one's self at home.
He conquers the world for the good of the world. When he goes after
pastures new, he takes the Bible with him. It will not be long before
the natives have the Bible, and he their land. On arriving upon his new
field of operation, the missionary places the Bible in the hands of the
natives, and thus addresses them: "My dear Brethren, lift your eyes to
Heaven, and pray. Lift your eyes--higher--higher--still higher--that's
it. Now close them, and do not open them until I tell you--that's
it--pray--there--now open your eyes, you are saved."
When the worthy natives open their eyes, their territory is gone.
Truly, a strange being, but an interesting subject of study, is this
same Englishman. Capable of combining a thousand different personages,
of playing a thousand different parts, of doing in Rome (to use his own
words) as the Romans do; extreme in each of his acts, presenting the
most striking contrasts, but always guided by his reason. Fiery patriot,
yet calmly bearing the greatest humiliations while awaiting the
propitious moment for taking his innings. In the temple, a publican,
crying aloud, "O Lord, I am but a miserable sinner!" Outside its door, a
Pharisee, setting up for a marvel of virtue. Worshiper of Mammon and
Jehovah, the man most concerned in the interests of the next world, and
most wrapped up in the concerns of this.
In the singular, a man upon whose word you can rely as you would upon a
trusty sword; in the plural, a people who have too often merited the
epithet "perfidious." At home, preaching temperance, even to the
forswearing of all drinks but water; abroad, not only encouraging, but
enforcing the opium trade. At home, prosecuting the individual that
ill-uses an animal, unless, indeed, the animal be a wife; abroad,
setting a price upon the head of a recalcitrant foe. At home, punishing
with imprisonment the people who obstruct the rowdy processions of the
Salvation Army mountebanks; in India, sending to prison the same
mountebanks, who, in their zeal, might create religious difficulties
among a nation that he has subdued.
Opportunist _par excellence_, he never asks all or nothing. He accepts a
little as being better than nothing; and thus it is that little by
little, without shock or violence, without revolutions, he perfects the
machinery of his constitution.
Everything John Bull does is perfect. When anything goes wrong, he knows
where to lay the blame: he keeps Scotchmen, Irishmen, and Welshmen
conveniently at hand for that purpose.
At prayer time, a man appearing somewhat uncomfortable. When he prays,
he makes a grimace, or hides his face in his hat, and reminds one of
Heinrich Heine's sayings, "that a blaspheming Frenchman must be a more
pleasing object in the sight of God than a praying Englishman."
Also watch John Bull as the collection is going on. Hear him sing at the
top of his voice
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small
Love so amazing, so divine
Demands my life, my soul, my all.
And all the time see how carefully he feels his pockets to be quite sure
that it is a three-penny bit that he has got hold of.
* * * * *
And what a diplomatist he is! Ask him for a reform, and he will stare at
you astonished, assuring you that all is for the best in the best of
worlds. But shake your fist at him, and show him that you mean to have
that reform, and he will smile, and say: "Oh, that's all right, I beg
your pardon, I didn't know that you were in earnest."
* * * * *
To sum up:
Worshiping his old monarchy, devoted to his old institutions, but
ravenous for justice and liberty, he would be ready again to-day to
demolish both monarchy and constitution, as he did in the seventeenth
century, if his liberty ran the least danger. In politics, possessing
the virtues that are indispensable to the prosperity of a
nation--respect of the law and respect of power clearly manifested--he
always bows to the decision of a majority. Refusing to submit to
despotism in any shape or form, he himself keeps in order and discipline
all his paid guides and governors: his queen, his princes, his
ministers, his generals, his judges, his priests.
Wise, industrious, and persevering, never doubting his strength, above
all minding his own business, and imposing upon one and all their
attributions and duties, from his sovereign down to the humblest
citizen, he has chosen for his motto:
Fais bien ce que fais.