| | | | | | The achievements of Anglo-Saxon energy present a rich | mine of material to the bookmaker. We are justly proud of | our Self-made Men ~~ of our Chancellors who have risen | from the barber's-shop to the Woolsack, of our low-born | inventors who have fought their way to scientific | recognition, of our merchant princes who have begun life | with a capital of one half-crown. The story of the man who | has raised himself to eminence of his own exertions, in the | face of overwhelming disadvantages and obstacles, is a | thrice told tale, thanks to Mr. Smiles and other biographers. | But our admiration has been almost exclusively drawn to | these signal examples of pushing men. | The analogous exploits of the fair sex remain | comparatively unchronicled. | No-one has hitherto published | a book about Self-made Women. Yet this branch of the | subject would be very interesting, and even instructive. Of | course the opportunity for the display of energy in pushing | is, in the case of woman, much more limited. She cannot | push at the Bar or in the Church, or in business. Her sphere | for pushing is practically narrowed down to one department | of human life ~~ society. But within the limits of that | sphere she exhibits very remarkable proofs of this peculiar | form of activity. Moreover, pushing is a feature so | peculiarly characteristic of the English, as distinct from the | Continental salon, that no attempt | to place a picture of the Englishwoman in her totality | before her foreign critics would be complete without it. | There are three periods in the career of a pushing woman. | The first is that in which she emerges from obscurity, or, | worse perhaps, from the notoriety of commercial | antecedents, and carries, by a vigorous push, the outworks | of fashionable society. The wife of a successful speculator | in cotton or guano, who is also the mistress of a | comfortable mansion in Bloomsbury, gradually becomes | restless and dissatisfied with her surroundings. It would be | curious to trace the growth of this discontent. Ambition is | deeply rooted in the female bosom. Even housemaids are | actuated by an impulse to better themselves, and village | schoolmistresses yearn for a larger sphere. Perhaps it is | this instinct to rise, so creditable to the sex, which compels | a lady with a long purse, and a name well known in the | City, to enter the lists as an aspirant to fashion. Perhaps her | career is developed by a more gradual process. Climbing | social Alps is like climbing material Alps ~~ for a time the | intervening heights shut out from view the grander peaks. | It is not till one has topped Peckham or Hackney that a | more extended horizon bursts on the eye, and one catches | sight of the glittering summits of Belgravia. Account for it | as we may, the phenomenon of a woman in the enjoyment | of every comfort and luxury that wealth can give, but ready | to barter it all for a few crumbs of contemptuous notice | from persons of rank, is by no means uncommon. Probably | the fashionable newspaper is a great stimulus to pushing. | The rich vulgarian pores over Court | Circulars and catalogues of aristocratic names till the | fascination becomes irresistible, and the desire to see her | own name, purged of cotton or guano, figuring in the same | sheet grows to a monomania. But how is this to be done? | Fortunately for the purpose which she has in view, there | exist in these later days amphibious beings, half trader, half | fop, with one set of relations with the world of commerce | and another set of relations with the world of fashion. The | dandy, driven into the City by the stress of his fiscal | exigencies, forms a link between the East-end and the | West. Among his other functions is that of giving aid and | counsel, not exactly gratis, to any fair outsider who wants | to

"get into"

society. For every applicant he has | but one bit of advice. She must spend money. For a | woman who is neither clever nor beautiful nor high-born, | there is but one way to proceed. She must bribe right and | left. No rotten borough absorbs more cash than the | fashionable world. Its recognition is merely a question of | money. All its distinctions have their price. It exacts from | the pushing woman a thumping entrance-fee in the shape of | a sumptuous concert or ball. Nor is it only the first push | which costs. Every subsequent advance is as much a | matter of purchase as a step in the army. There is a tariff of | its honours, and any Belgravian actuary can calculate to a | nicety the price of a stare from a great lady, or a card from | a leader of fashion. This is the philosophy expounded by | the amphibious dandy to his civic pupil. The upshot is, that | she must give an entertainment, or a series of | entertainments, on a scale of great splendour. Of course the | house in Bloomsbury must be exchanged for another in a | fashionable quarter. A more profuse style of living must be | adopted. Her equipages must be gorgeous, her flunkeys | numerous and well powdered. Above all, she must at once | and for ever make a clean sweep of all her old friends. | Upon these conditions, and in consideration of a | douceur for himself, he | agrees to be her friend, and help her to push. Then follows a | delicate negotiation with one of those dowagers who rather | pique themselves on their good nature in standing sponsors | to pushing nobodies. She, too, makes her conditions. For | the sake of the elderly pet to whom she is indebted for her | daily supply of scandal, she consents to countenance his | protegee. But she | declines to ask her to her own house. She will dine with | her, provided the dinner is exquisite, and two or three of | her own cronies are included in the invitation. Last and | crowning condescension, she will ask the company for the | proposed concert or ball, provided the thing is done | regardless of expense. It would be hard to say which a | cynic would think most charming ~~ the readiness to | accept, or the inclination to impose, such conditions. At | last the great occasion arrives. Planted at the top of her | staircase, under the wing of her fashionable allies, the | nominal giver of the entertainment is duly stared at and | glared at by a supercilious crowd, who examine her with | the same sort of languid interest which they devote to a | new animal at the Zoological. The greater number are

| "going on"

to another party. But the next morning | brings balls for every mortification. Her ball is blazoned in | the fashionable journals, and the well-bred reporter, while | elaborately complimentary to the exotics, is discreetly | silent as to the supercilious stares. She does not exactly | awake to find herself famous, but at least she is no longer | outside the Palo. At a considerable outlay, she has got into | what a connoisseur in shades of fashion would call | tenth-rate society. This is not much; still, it is a beginning, | and a beginning is everything to a pushing woman. | In the pushing woman of the transition period we behold a | lady who has got a certain footing in society, but who is | straining every nerve, in season and out of season, by hook | and by crook, to improve her position. Society within the | Palo is divided into | | a great many

"zones"

or

"sets".

It is | like a target, with outer, middle, inner, and innermost | circles. The exterior circle, corresponding to

"the | black"

in archery, consists of persons, for the most | part, with limited means and moderate ambition. People | who try to combine fashion with economy stick here, and | advance no further. Carpet-dancers and champagneless | suppers are typical of this circle. Here mothers and | daughters prey upon the inexperienced youth of the | Universities and green young officers, who are deluded for | one season by their pretensions to fashion, but who cut | them the next. Here, too, may be found persons whose | social progress has been retarded by foolish scruples about | cutting their old friends. Between this band of prowlers | upon the outskirts of fashion and

"the best set"

| ~~ the golden ring in the centre of the shield ~~ are many | intermediate circles, each representing a different stage of | distinction and exclusiveness. It is the multiplicity of these | invisible lines of demarcation which makes pushing so | laborious. The world of fashion is not one homogeneous | camp, but it is parcelled out into a number of cliques and | coteries. Into one after another of these a pushing woman | effects her entrance. She is always edging her way into a | new and better set. At every step there are obstacles to be | encountered, rivals to be jostled, fierce snubs to be endured. | There is something almost sublime in the spectacle of his | untiring activity of shoulder and elbow. But mere shoving | ~~ ~~ would never bring | her near to her goal. An adept in the art of pushing does | not rely on sheer impudence alone. She has recourse to | artificial aids and appliances. A great deal of ingenuity is | exhibited in the selection of her self-propelling machinery. | It is a good plan to acquire a name for | someone social | speciality. Private theatricals, for instance, or similar | entertainments, may be turned to excellent account. | Exhibitions of this kind pique curiosity, and people who | come to stare remain to supper, and possibly return to drop | a card on the following afternoon. But, if you go in for this | sort of thing, you must resign yourself to certain | inconveniences. Your pretty drawing-room will be like | Park Lane in a state of chronic obstruction. The carpenter's | work will interfere somewhat with your comfort, and it is | tiresome to be perpetually unhinging your doors and | pulling your windows out of their frames. The jealousies | and bickerings among the performers are another source of | vexation. Miss A. declines to sit as Rowena to Miss B.'s | Rebecca; and the drawing-room Roscius invariably objects | to the part for which he is cast. Altogether, unless you have | a positive taste for carpentry and green-room squabbles, it | is better to steer clear of private theatricals. Then there is | the musical dodge. In skilful hands there is no better | leverage for pushing operations than drawing-room music. | Everyone knows Lady Tweedledum and her amateur | concerts. The fuss she makes about them is prodigious. | They are a cheap sort of entertainment, but they cost the | thrifty patroness of art a vast deal of trouble. She is always | organizing practices, arranging rehearsals, drawing up | programmes, or scouring London for musical recruits. She | has been known to invade dingy Government offices for a | tenor, and to run a soprano to earth in distant Bloomsbury. | After all, her

"music"

is only so-so. You may | hear better any night at Evans's or the Oxford. One has | heard

"Daltno stellato soglio"

before, and | Niedermeyer insipidities are all little | fede. Sometimes, to complete the imposture, the | names of Mendelssohn and Mozart are invoked, and, | undercover of doing honour to an immortal composer, a | chorus of young people assemble for periodical flirtation. | On the whole, it is wise not to attempt too much. Miss | Quaver, with her staccato notes and semi-professional | minauderice, is not exactly a queen of song. | Nor does it give one any exquisite delight to hear Sir | Raucisonous Trombone give tongue in a French romance. | The talented band of the Piccadilly Troubadours, | floundering through the overture of | Zampa, hardly satisfies a refined musical ear. But, | however indifferent in a musical point of view, from the | point of view of the fair projector the thing is a success. It | serves as a trap to catch duchesses, a device for putting salt | on the tails of the popinjays of fashion. One fine day Lady | Tweedledum's pretended zeal for music receives its | crowning reward. The noise of it reaches august ears. An | act of gracious condescension follows. Her Ladyship has | the supreme delight of leading a scion of Royalty to a chair | of state in her drawing-room, to hear Sir Raucisonous bleat | and Miss Quaver trill. | There are subtler means of pushing than amateur concerts | and private theatricals. There is the push vertical, as in the | case of the commercial lady; and there is also the push | lateral. A good example of the latter style of operation is | afforded by the dowager who is fortunate enough to have | an eldest son to use as a pushing machine. Handled with | tact, a young heir not yet cut adrift from the maternal | apron-string, may be turned to excellent account. There is, | or was, a sentimental ballad entitled,

"I'll kiss him for | his mother."

One might reverse the sentiment in the | case of Madame Mere. Of her the | dowagers with daughters to marry sing in chorus, | . Civility to the mother is access to the son. A sharp | tactician sees her advantage, and works the precious | relationship for her own private ends. It is a mine of | invitations of an eligible kind. By aid of it she springs over | barriers which it would otherwise take her years to | surmount, and is lifted into circles which by their | unassisted efforts she and her daughters would never reach. | Scheming dowagers are glad to have her at their balls when | there is a chance of young Hopeful following in her train, | and her five o'clock tea is delightful when their is a young | millionaire to sip it with. Deprived of her decoy duck, she | would soon lose ground, and be left to push her way in | society with uncomfortably reduced momentum. Another | capital instrument for pushing is a country-house. The | mistress of a fine old hall and a cipher of a husband is apt | to take a peculiar view of the duties of property. One might | expect her to be content with so dignified and enviable a lot | and to pass tranquil days in coddling the cottagers, | patronizing the rector's wife, and impressing her crotchet | on the national school. But no ~~ she is bitten with the | tarantula of social success. She wants to get on in society. | She must push as vigorously as any trumpery adventuress | in May Fair. A good old name is dragged into the dirt | inseparable from pushing. The family portraits look | disdainfully from their frames, and the ancestral oaks hang | their heads in shame. The company reflects the peculiar | ambition of the hostess. The neighboring squires are | conspicuous by their absence. The local small fry are of | course ignored, though to the great lady of the county, who | cuts her in town she is cringingly obsequious. The visitors | consist mainly of relays of youths, fast, foolish, and | fashionable, with now and then a stray politician or | journalist thrown in to give the party a | of intellect. The principle of invitation is | very simple. No-one | is asked who will not be of use in | town. Any brainless little fop, and effete dandy, is sure of a | welcome, provided he is known to certain circles and can | help her to scramble into a little more vogue. One more | instance of lateral pushing. A connexion with literature | may be very effectively worked. The wives of poets, | novelists, and historians have great facilities for pushing if | they care to use them. Even the sleek parasite who fattens | on a literature which he has done nothing to adorn, and | conceals his emptiness under the airs of Sir Oracle, has | been known to hoist his female belongings into the high | levels of society. | The last period in the career of a pushing woman is the | triumphant. This is when she has achieved fashion, and has | virtually done pushing. There is nothing left to push for. | The Belgravian citadel has fairly capitulated. Like | Alexander weeping that there are no more | salons left to penetrate. But rest | is elcome after so harassing a struggle. And with rest | comes a sensible improvement in her character and | manners. The last stage of a pushing woman is | emphatically better than the first. It is curious to notice | what a change for the better is produced in her by the | partial recovery of her self-respect. One might almost call | her a pleasant person. She can at last afford to be civil, | occasionally even good-natured. And this is only natural. | In the thick of a struggle which taxes her energies to the | uttermost, there is no time for courtesies and amenities. | The better instincts of her nature necessarily remain in | abeyance. But they reassert themselves, unless she be | irretrievably spoilt, when the struggle is over. At last she | can afford to speak her true thoughts, consult her own | tastes, and receive her own friends, not another's, like a | lady to the manner born. And if this emancipation from | self-imposed thraldom is not long deferred, if it finds her at | sixty with a relish for gaiety still unslaked, she may yet be | able to enjoy society herself and to render it enjoyable to | others. How many women there are of whom one says, | How pleasant they will be when they have done pushing, or | have pushed enough to allow themselves and others a little | rest! One longs for the time to arrive when they shall have | kicked down the ladders by which they have mounted, and | effaced the trace of the rebuffs which they have | encountered. One longs to see them cleansed from the | stains with which their toilsome struggle has bespattered | them, enjoying the ease and tranquility of the After-push. | If

"getting on in society"

must continue to be an | object of female ambition, would it not be wise to abate the | nuisance by rendering the process somewhat more easy? | Might not some central authority be established to grant | diplomas to pushing women, which would admit them | to those select circles which | they go through so much dirt to reach?