with every indication of superlative wonder and admiration.
In fact, it is no slight argument in favour of the original invention of sewing by women, that men very rarely have wit enough to learn it, even when invented. There has been no lack of endeavour, even amongst the world’s greatest and mightiest, but poor “work” have they made of it. Hercules lost all the credit of his mighty labours from his insignificance at the spinning wheel, and the sceptre of Sardanapalus passed from his grasp as he was endeavouring to “finger the fine needle and nyse thread.”
These love-stricken heroes might have said with Gower—had he then said it—
“What things she bid me do, I do,
And where she bid me go, I go.
And where she likes to call, I come,
I serve, I bow, I look, I lowte,
My eye followeth her about.
What so she will, so will I,
When she would set, I kneel by.
And when she stands, then will I stand,
And when she taketh her work in hand,
Of wevyng or of embroidrie.
Then can I only muse and prie,
Upon her fingers long and small.”
Our modern Hercules, the Leviathan of literature, was not more successful.
Dr. Johnson.—“Women have a great advantage that they may take up with little things, without disgracing themselves; a man cannot, except with fiddling. Had I learnt to fiddle I should have done nothing else.”
Boswell.—“Pray, Sir, did you ever play on any musical instrument?”
Dr. Johnson.—“No, Sir; I once bought a flageolet, but I never made out a tune.”
Boswell.—“A flageolet, Sir! So small an instrument? I should have liked to hear you play on the violoncello. That should have been your instrument.”
Dr. Johnson.—“Sir, I might as well have played on the violoncello as another; but I should have done nothing else. No, Sir; a man would never undertake great things could he be amused with small. I once tried knotting; Dempster’s sister undertook to teach me, but I could not learn it.”