KISSING IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES: IN ARABIA, EGYPT, RUSSIA,
FINLAND, ICELAND, PARAGUAY—A PLEASING BUT PERPLEXING
NORWEGIAN CUSTOM—THE “BLUE LAWS” OF CONNECTICUT—KISSING
IN THE EYES OF THE LAW—MONEY VALUE OF A STOLEN KISS—
SANITARY DANGERS OF KISSING—KISSING THE DYING—FAMOUS
KISSES—THE BLARNEY STONE—SOULFUL KISSES—KISSING THE FEET
OF BEGGARS.
The custom of kissing varies in different countries. The Arabian women
and children kiss the beards of their husbands; the superior returns the
salute by a kiss on the forehead. In Egypt, the inferior kisses the hand
of a superior, generally on the back, but sometimes on the palm; the son
kisses the hand of his father, the wife that of her husband, the slave,
and often the free servant, that of the master; the slaves and servants
of a grandee kiss their lord’s sleeve or the skirt of his clothing.
In Russia, the Easter salutation is a kiss. Each member of the family
salutes the other; chance acquaintances on meeting kiss; principals kiss
their employés; the General kisses his officers; the officers kiss their
soldiers; the Czar kisses his family, retinue, court and attendants, and
even his officers on parade, the sentinels at the palace gates, and a
select party of private soldiers, probably elaborately prepared for this
“royal salute.” In other parts, the poorest serf, meeting a high-born
dame on the street, has but to say, “Christ is risen,” and he will
receive a kiss and the reply, “He is truly risen.” The Empress Catherine
of Russia instituted assemblies of men and women to promote the
cultivation of polite manners. Among the rules for maintaining the
decency of those assemblies she directed that “no gentleman should force
a kiss from, or strike a woman in the assembly, under pain of
execution.”
A most pleasant, tender, but, at the same time, perplexing salute, is
that bestowed upon one by the women of Norway, who, after having put you
to bed and tucked you up well between the sweet-smelling sheets, bend
their fresh, fair faces, and kiss you honestly upon the beard, without a
shadow even of shame or doubt.
In Finland, contrary to the usual custom, the women object to the
practice of osculation. A Finnish matron, on hearing that it was a
common thing in England for man and wife to kiss, expressed great
disgust thereat, declaring emphatically that if her husband dared to
take such a liberty, she would give him a box on the ears he would feel
for a month!
In Iceland illegitimate and illicit kissing has had deterrent penalties
of great severity. For kissing another man’s wife, with or without her
consent, the punishment of exclusion, or its pecuniary equivalent, was
awarded. A man rendered himself liable for kissing an unmarried woman
under legal guardianship without her consent; and, even if the lady
consented, the law required that every kiss should be wiped out by a
fine of three marks, equivalent to 140 ells of wadmal, a quantity
sufficient to furnish a whole ship’s crew with pilot jackets.
In Paraguay you are by force of custom obliged to kiss every lady you
are introduced to, though this is not such an inestimable privilege as
one would suppose, for there all the females above thirteen chew
tobacco! But one-half of the young women you meet are really tempting
enough to render you happy regardless of the consequences, and you would
sip the dew of the proffered lip in the face of a tobacco factory—even
in the double distilled honey-dew of old Virginia.
Under the notorious “blue laws” of Connecticut, no woman was allowed to
kiss even her child on the Sabbath, or fasting day, under heavy
penalties. Only a few years ago it was considered remarkable that a
Western magistrate should impose a heavy fine and a term of
incarceration upon an unfortunate fellow who had kissed a pretty girl on
the ears without her consent, but police justices in New York have quite
frequently imposed the same punishment for similar offenses that have
occurred in recent years. In the eyes of the law, kissing a lady without
her will and permission is a common assault, punishable by a fine and
imprisonment. Some one of an inquiring turn of mind has tried to
definitely determine the average money value of a stolen kiss in the
United States. Court rulings show that the act of forced osculation in
Pennsylvania costs $750, while in New York it is placed at $2,500. New
Jersey, with a shocking disregard to the merits of the stolen sweets to
be drawn from the ruby lips of her lovely lasses, puts the value of a
kiss at $1.15. Kissing goes by favor is a trite saying, but the figures
submitted indicate that the sands of Jersey offer the greatest
inducements to indulge in this delightful diversion.
From the medical point of view there is danger in kissing. The spread of
diphtheria, it is said, is largely due to the practice of kissing
children. It is hard to conceive of any mode of propagation more
directly suited to the spread of the infection or more general in its
operation. It stands to diphtheria in about the same relation that
promiscuous hand-shaking formerly did to the itch. A physician in
explaining to a third party the warning he gave his wife not to let the
children kiss any one, said: “I tell you it wasn’t Judas alone who
betrayed with a kiss. Hundreds of lovely, blooming children are kissed
into their graves every year. There is death in a kiss. The beloved and
lamented Princess Alice, of Hesse, took diphtheria from the kiss of her
child, and followed it to the grave. Diphtheria, malaria, scarlet fever,
blood poison, death lurk in the kisses!”
There are superstitions about kissing. There is a man living at Luray,
Virginia, who became convinced when young that kissing was wicked
because Christ was betrayed with a kiss. He resolved never to kiss
anybody. He has been married twenty years and is the father of eleven
children, but has never kissed his wife or one of his offspring.
Among the quaint customs wherein kissing is involved is the surprisal of
any person asleep by one of the opposite sex. In such a situation the
drowsy party may be kissed with impunity, and must, in addition, pay the
saluting party the forfeit of a pair of gloves.
St. Valentine has also a good deal of kissing to answer for. The
osculatory customs of this holiday are capitally and graphically
illustrated by Sir Walter Scott in “The Fair Maid of Perth,” where the
heroine kisses her stalwart lover, Harry, on St. Valentine’s morning,
and they afterwards exchange their betrothal gifts prepared on such
occasions with much forethought and circumspection as to their
suitability and appropriateness.
It was the custom among the Romans to give the dying a last kiss, in
order, as they thought, to catch the parting breath. Spenser, in his
pastoral elegy on the death of Sir Philip Sidney, mentions it as a
circumstance which renders the loss of his illustrious friend more to be
lamented, that no one was nigh to close his eyelids “and kiss his lips.”
A little after he notices the “dearest love” of the deceased weeping
over him.
She, with sunset kisses, sucked the wasting breath
Out of his lips, like lilies pale and soft.
When Lord Nelson was dying on board his flagship, he took leave of his
faithful friend, Hardy, by kissing him. “Kiss me, Hardy!” he said, and
these were the last words he uttered. And so, too, Sir Walter Scott,
when dying, kissed Lockhart, saying, “Be good, my dear! be good.”
Many famous kisses might be mentioned. It is recorded in the book of
Genesis that when Jacob kissed Rachel he “lifted up his voice and wept.”
One of the funny writers has attempted to account for his weeping. He
gives, among other reasons, that he wept because it was not time to kiss
her again; because Rachel threatened to tell her ma; he wept because the
damsel did not kiss him; he thought she was fast colors, and cried when
the paint came off; when he lifted up his voice, he found it heavy, and
could not get it so high as he intended; he wept because Rachel
encouraged him to kiss her twice more, and he was afraid to do it;
finally, he wept because his first enjoyment of the most delightful
pleasure of life overcame him.
Duncan Mackenzie, a veteran of Waterloo, who died at Elgin, Scotland, in
1866, delighted in relating how he kissed the duchess in taking the
shilling from between her teeth to become one of her regiment, the
Gordon Highlanders, better known as the Ninety-second. The old Scottish
veteran has not one left behind him to tell the same tale about kissing
the blue-eyed duchess in the market-place of Dutkill.
There is a famous kiss in the “Beggar’s Opera.” It was given by Macbeth
to Jenny Diver, and the unpleasant effect which it produced on him may
be judged from the sarcastic remark: “One may know by your kiss that the
gin is excellent.”
Petruchio gave his bride a kiss of enormous calibre. We are told that he
“kist her lips with such a clamorous smack, that at the parting all the
church echoed.” Tennyson speaks of the kiss given to Fatima by her
lover:
Once he drew
With one long kiss my whole soul through
My lips—as sunlight drinketh dew.
Margarida gave her lover a kiss, which fact coming to the knowledge of
her husband, he gave her the troubadour’s heart to eat, disguised as a
savory morsel. When Queen Margaret kissed Chartier, the ugliest man in
France, she exclaimed: “I kiss the soul that sings.” Voltaire was kissed
in the stage-box at the theatre by the lovely Countess de Villars. John
Milton, when a collegian, was kissed by a high-born Italian beauty; and
Sterne, the novelist, says of kisses: “For my own part, I would rather
kiss the lips I love than dance with all the graces of Greece, after
bathing themselves in the springs of Parnassus. Flesh and blood for me,
with an angel in the inside.”
Tom Hood once questioned whether the grave, sedate Hannah More had ever
been kissed; and Horace Smith, in his “Rejected Addresses,” affirms that
on a certain occasion:
Sidney Morgan was playing the organ,
While behind the vestry door
Horace Twiss was snatching a kiss
From the lips of Hannah More.
Every one remembers the famous kiss imprinted by Mr. Bumble on the
“chaste nose” of Mrs. Corney; and the still more famous kiss applied to
the lips of Mary, the pretty housemaid, by Sam Weller. Sam had dropped
his hat, which the housemaid picked up, and Sam kissed her.
“You don’t mean to say you did that on purpose?” said the pretty
housemaid, blushing.
“No, I didn’t then,” said Sam, “but I vill now.” So he kissed
her again.
“Sam!” said Mr. Pickwick, calling over the banisters.
“Coming, sir!” replied Sam, running up-stairs.
“How long you have been!” said Mr. Pickwick.
“There was something behind the door which perwented our getting
it open for ever so long, sir,” replied Sam.
And this was the first passage of Mr. Weller’s first love.
The custom of kissing the Blarney Stone is explained as follows: In the
year 1602, when the Spaniards were inciting the Irish chieftains to
harass the English authorities, Cormac MacCarthy held, among other
dependencies, the Castle of Blarney, and had concluded an armistice with
the Lord-President, on condition of surrendering this fort to an English
garrison. Day after day did his lordship look for the fulfillment of the
compact, while the Irish Pozzo di Borgo, as loath to part with his
stronghold as Russia to relinquish the Dardanelles, kept protocolizing
with soft promises and delusive delays, until at last Carew became the
laughing stock of Elizabeth’s ministers, and “Blarney talk” proverbial.
A popular tradition attributes to the Blarney Stone the power of
endowing whoever kisses it with the sweet, persuasive, wheedling
eloquence so perceptible in the language of the Cork people, and which
is generally termed blarney. This is the true meaning of the word, and
not, as some writers have supposed, a faculty of deviating from veracity
with an unblushing countenance, whenever it may be convenient.
The curious traveler will seek in vain the _real_ stone, unless he
allows himself to be lowered from the northern angle of the lofty
castle, when he will discover it about twenty feet from the top, with
the inscription, “_Cormac MacCarthy fortis me fierifecit, A. D. 1446_.”
As the kissing of this would be somewhat difficult, the candidate for
Blarney honors will be glad to know that at the summit, and within easy
access, is another _real_ stone, bearing the date of 1703.
In Blarney Castle, on a crumbling tower,
There lies a stone (above your ready reach),
Which to the lips imparts, ’tis said, the power
Of facile falsehood and persuasive speech;
And hence, of one who talks in such a tone,
The peasants say, “He’s kissed the Blarney Stone.”
The famous “soulful” kiss given to Fatima suggests the thought that such
kisses are by no means new, though, in the present day, they may be out
of fashion. In “Don Juan” Byron speaks of
Such kisses as belong to early days,
When heart, and soul, and sense, in concert move.
Diagnosing such a kiss, the poet informs us that on such occasions the
blood is like lava, the pulse is all ablaze, and each kiss of that kind
he declares is a “heart-quake.”
In the time of Herrick there was an anonymous poet who thus
philosophized on the “soulful kiss”:
Philosophers pretend to tell
How, like a hermit in his cell,
The soul within the brain does dwell.
But I, who am not half so wise,
Think I have seen’t in Chloe’s eyes;
Down to her lips from thence it stole,
And there I kiss’d her very soul.
The kings and queens of England in ancient times practiced the ceremony
of washing the feet of beggars, in imitation of Christ, who washed the
feet of His disciples. They washed and kissed the feet of as many poor
people as they themselves numbered in years, and bestowed a gift, or
_maunday_, upon each; the ceremony occurred on Maundy-Thursday. Queen
Elizabeth performed this ceremony when she was thirty-nine years old—
that is, she kissed the feet of thirty-nine paupers after their feet had
been washed by yeomen of the laundry with warm water and sweet herbs,
and afterward by the sub-almoner. The last of the English monarchs who
performed this office in person was James II., in 1731, in his
forty-eighth year. In 1530, on Maundy-Thursday, Cardinal Wolsey washed
and kissed the feet of fifty-nine poor men, “and, after he had wiped
them, he gave every one of the said poor men twelve pence in money,
three ells of good canvas to make them shirts, a pair of new shoes, a
cask of red herrings and three white herrings, and, to one of them, two
shillings.” This custom is no longer observed, but the poor still
receive their gifts from the royal bounty.