| | | The Paris Correspondent of the Times has lately | given us a sort of sketch of a speech, delivered in the | French Senate, on what is called the Social Evil in Paris. It | seems that a petition was presented on the subject, and | that a Report was ordered, on the presentation of which M. | Dupin spoke the speech of which we have an abstract, and | which is, it appears, about to be published in full. We are | not told who the petitioner was, or what exactly he prayed | for, except that it was for a more direct interference on the | part of the police with prostitution. Nor do we learn what | the Committee reported or recommended, if they | recommended anything; nor, indeed, does the abstract | before us show very clearly to what practical point M. | Dupin addressed himself, except that he seems to have | objected to the petition. The whole thing, as we have it in | the Times of Monday, is a specimen of the | unintelligent way in which matters of interest are dealt with | by the Times Correspondent; and though, from | motives of prudery or prudence, the debate was conducted | with closed doors, yet, as access of some sort of other was | gained to M. Dupin’s observations, we might perhaps have | been told a little more on the subject. If, as is said, the | present French regime displays in all ranks of | society a lowering of public morals, it would be very | interesting to know how the Conscript Fathers treat one of | the accredited signs of a falling Empire. As far as we can | guess out the matter, the petition seems to have called | attention to the excesses of public prostitution, and to have | demanded either that new police regulations should be | made, or that the existing ones should be more stringently | carried out. To this M. Dupin replied that there was a point | beyond which police interference would rather increase | than repress the evil, and that the real matter to be dealt | with was one which, being solely of a moral character, was | beyond legislation ~~ namely, the luxury and the low tone | of social morals prevalent in the higher classes. At least, if | M. Dupin did not say this, being a sensible man, he might | very well have said it; and if this were to be said in our | Parliament, where it is not said, some good might come of | it. | Unless talkers and writers on this slippery subject bear | carefully in mind this limit between the wholesome and the | injurious effects of police interference, they only do more | harm than good by discussing it. Vague talk about social | evils is generally injurious, and serious thinkers are always | repelled by philanthropic platitudes and heavy | commonplaces in morality. Every special form under which | the evil exhibits itself must be canvassed on its own | grounds; but to recommend generally the prohibition of | prostitution, or, on the other hand, to argue that all its | details are to be regulated by law, is equally futile. Here, in | England, the changes constantly taking place in society will | always require vigilant attention to each exigency as it | arises; and the complaint against our Home Office is not | that it declines to propose new laws, but that it fails to see | that cases are perpetually arising which fall under the spirit, | even if they cannot be brought under the letter, of those | existing safeguards which have already been found | necessary to prevent glaring outrages on public decency. | For example, here are two or three new forms of evil. | There are the Priapeian Museums, together with the | offensive placards and advertisements which infest certain | public places. There is the public display of gaillard | photographs. And these are the quack doctors. The | last few years have given rise to these three monstrous | births of time. It would be futile to enlarge on the evil of | these things, and worse than futile to point out the lengths | to which they are carried; nor is it necessary to argue that | they fall within the general spirit of the existing law, which | professes, and rightly professes, only to restrain the | greater outrages on public decency. The only question is, | would dealing with them involve worse evils than those | actually existing? We cannot see how this can be even | pretended. It is quite true that an attempt to suppress | brothels has, as a matter of experience, produced other | and worse excesses. But what would come of it were those | dens of obscenity in the Strand and Tichborne Street | closed by order of Sir George Grey? Of course, the liberty | of the subject would be infringed; Magna Charta would be | endangered, and the Bill of Rights seriously imperilled. Is | such foolish pedantry as this to be listened to for a | moment? So in the matter of obscene and dirty | advertisements. What can be more easy than to bring | every person who is advertised as the vendor of certain | wares within Lord Campbell’s Act, and to make such public | announcements, where an address is given, penal | offences? The matter of questionable photographs, of | course, is more difficult, and will always be open to | conflicting decisions. But what at the present moment is | complained of by sober people ~~ and no other complaints | deserve to be attended to ~~ is the suspicion that there is | supineness and stupidity in the official mind as to the new | shapes which public indecency takes. Sir George Grey, by | diligent search into the archives of the Home Office, can | probably discover no authenticated instance of the | successful prosecution of the proprietor of an anatomical | museum. The public fail to perceive the cogency of the | answer, though we cannot dispute the fact. No doubt the | Government is right in expecting that the initiative should | be taken by the public. Public morality is not outraged until | there are complaints on the part of the public. It is neither | to be expected nor desired that the State should undertake | those duties which are best left to private persons. A | nuisance is not a nuisance till somebody complains of | being injured. Volenti non fit injuria. We do not | want a paternal government in the sense of undertaking | personal duties. The police authorities are quite right in | saying that the case of Regent Street, for example, was, in | the first instance, a matter for the inhabitants of Regent | Street, and its improved state 9for it is improved) is due to r. | Dolby and his friends undertaking that responsibility which | Sir Richard Mayne very properly declined. The same may | be said about the obscene museums. It will be time | enough to ask for new legislation when the insufficiency of | our present laws is proved. As matters stand, it may be | reasonably expected that the Strand tradesmen ~~ and, | we may especially add, the authorities of King’s College ~~ | should first move. If they fail ~~ and it is by no means | certain that they would fail ~~ in suppressing this particular | nuisance, we doubt whether new power would be refused | to the police to deal with a new emergency. | But, as reported, M. Dupin dealt with the matter on larger | grounds. he seems to have said that the demi-monde | was encouraged by the haut-monde; and | we may add that what is true of Paris is true of London. | Our real social evil is that the manners of courtezans are | creeping into the very verge of the Court. The dress, the | equipage, the language, and the tastes of Lais are the | standard of respectability in its choicest haunts. It is now | virtue which pays the homage to vice, and it seems to be | daily becoming a settled thing that one of the best chances | of becoming a wife is to adopt the airs and style of those | who are not wives. Lais give hints to those who are to be | the mothers of our peers and gentlemen of the next | generation. It is these women, as M. Dupin says, who set | the fashion to ladies of fashion. Now the question, and of | course it is an interesting one, is whether there is anything | new in all this? As far as dress goes, we rather doubt it. M. | Dupin seems to rest a good deal on this, and utters a | vehement tirade against crinoline, chiefly, however, on | economical and sumptuary grounds. Just as Tertullian said | that high heels were unchristian because they affected to | add a cubit to the stature, so M. Dupin quotes the fable of | the ox and the frog against hoop petticoats. A voluminous | dress costs more than a scanty one; most of the wearers of | swelling and trailing skirts cannot afford to buy them; | therefore, the chances are that the wearers sell, or are | ready to sell, their virtue to buy their petticoats. We | question all this. There are of course cases, and many of | them, in which worthless wives run up long milliners’ bills. | But so they always did. There never was an age in which | female dress was not extravagant either in quantity or | material, or perhaps in both. We are all, alike, in England | and France and America, very rich; and therefore it is | nothing strange that female dress should be costly and | extravagant. Nor, again, are we prepared to say that the | present style of dress is especially and exceptionally | immodest. We are not saying that purists cannot, and | perhaps justly, find faults in this direction. But we are | content to incur the imputation of being thought cynical | when we venture to remark that all female dress is, and is | meant to be ~~ that is, it is in its original conception ~~ | suggestive. Whether it be of the past or the present | generation, classical or modern, of the East or West, there | may be detected in it one common nature. It is natural that | it should be so. To the pure all things are pure; the most | innocent of maidens, and matrons are not made immodest | by the dress, whatever it is, of the period. But to say this is | not to say that the dress of every period has not a | suggestive basis. Women being women in all lands and in | all countries, female dress must be female dress. And, | therefore, crinoline and all that belongs to it is not worse, | and certainly is not better, than the style which went before | it, or than the style which will follow it. Its real fault is not | that it is expensive ~~ for we may as well have this form of | expense as another; not that it is immodest ~~ for a certain | whiff of immodesty may be found by the curious in all | dress; but that it is singularly cumbrous and excessively | dirty. | The vice of our age, however, is not this; it is something | more subtle and dangerous; and, unless we remembered | that in the decline of Rome there must have been | something like it which suggested to Horace his | | we should have said that it was a new thing for chastity to | copy the outward life of unchastity. Anyhow, the fast girl | who has not lost her virtue, and does not intend to lose it, | is a social evil far worse than the fast girl who has not, and | does not pretend to have, any virtue at all. In English life | this is a novelty. Belinda might be, and probably was, vain, | silly, and frivolous; and her representatives in these days, | with many more pretensions, are often as empty. But | Belinda never dressed after and talked after Miss Kitty | Fisher. And for this, which i the last and worst vice of | modern society, the mothers are more responsible than the | daughters. If the matrons and chaperones of the | day permit, as they do, the gilded youth of the day to pass, | without remark or censure, from the opera-box of Lais to | the opera-box of the heiress of a half-hundred earls; if, | without rebuke, the anecdotes and adventures of the | demi-monde are reproduced as the small talk of the | drawing-room; if jests fresh as imported from the free | tongue of venal beauty are quoted on the croquet-ground | and the lawn fete; and if the mothers permit, or | perhaps encourage, all this, there is a blot on our morality | which we had better look to in time. There are a good | many awkward reasons for suspecting that, among many | of our swaggers, that which claims for English women a | pre-eminence in character above all the women of the | earth is not the least audacious. Anyhow, the text on which | M. Dupin addressed the French Senate might afford a | profitable and savoury

“exercise”

to ourselves.