That certain types of English society have not changed materially in
their freedom toward breaking wind in public can be noticed in some
comparatively recent literature. Frank Harris in My Life, Vol. 2, Ch.
XIII, tells of Lady Marriott, wife of a judge Advocate General, being
compelled to leave her own table, at which she was entertaining Sir
Robert Fowler, then the Lord Mayor of London, because of the suffocating
and nauseating odors there. He also tells of an instance in parliament,
and of a rather brilliant bon mot spoken upon that occasion.
“While Fowler was speaking Finch-Hatton had shewn signs of restlessness;
towards the end of the speech he had moved some three yards away from
the Baronet. As soon as Fowler sat down Finch-Hatton sprang up holding
his handkerchief to his nose:
“'Mr. Speaker,' he began, and was at once acknowledged by the Speaker,
for it was a maiden speech, and as such was entitled to precedence by
the courteous custom of the House, 'I know why the Right Honourable
Member from the City did not conclude his speech with a proposal.
The only way to conclude such a speech appropriately would be with a
motion!'”