WOMEN OF FRANCE.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XLIV, Issue 14026, 7 April 1920, Page 7

WOMEN OF FRANCE.

I "Haii ye small, sweet courtesies of isle, ior ainuoth' oa ye make the road or it! like giac: ai.d beauty which i/.'get'iiicliiiavions to love at-nrst sight; n* ye who open tue aopr and let the ■stranger. in." l iius wrote Sterne ot his tcntunc-ntal Jourijpy ;n Jt ranee, made, l>e it stated, at a time when we were at war witn ' tliat country. U itli all that lias changed during the past five and a-nalf years, those ''sweet ' remain. It is impossible tij calculate tluir effect on the generally responsive Jir.tons and the more ruggedly good-natured Americans who

c-jiue to r ranc-e ill their hundreds of thousands, but ti;o great credit cannot he giv.-n to the women of France—at the same , time, the national jiride ai:d the national paradox. It is uot for nothing that France is always represented as a heroic female Jigurc*_ The war demonstrated the

supi-rnci'al iolly of the idea that the French were pffeminate—though thto sexes are said to approximate more clcsely iu til at country than in any other—just as it proved to unkind critics that John Bull was not really a corpulent, plethoric old gentleman. Though the French form of symbolism expresses in various shape the chivalry and idealism of a fervid patriotism, tile Frenchman, master of the ait 01 living a rational life, has never troubled his head much about "feminism" and the "riginVs" of women. Nor have the women themselves shown any great concern oil these questions, though certain deputations to President Wilson and other protagonists of the Peace Conference, and collective efforts to obtain more equitable pay—due to changed occupations in consequence of the war and to the rising cost of living—have to be noted. It must be remembered that the partnership. between mar. and wife—in all sections of the community, but especially in the small shop-keeping class—has for many generations been far more intimate than in this country, and; that the wife is as often as not the life and soul of the concern. The sentimental Sterne's description is probably hardly just to the Frenchman who kept shop_ in his day: "'The legislative and executive powers of the shopnot resting in the husband, he seldom

comes there—in some dark and dismal room behind, he sits commerceless in his thrum, nightcap), the same rough son of. Nature that left liini." But allowing for exaggeration, the evidence of the old-establishment of the system is interesting, and in these days, when France needs the utmost tliat her sons and daughters can give in reconstructing the national life, much is hoped from Madame la Pationne. who so often has charge of the exchequer. When one says that France needs the utmost .that her sons and daughters can give one cannot avoid passing reference to the delicate subject which

lies at the root of all reconstruction, for France, as for our own country—the falling birthrate. No League of Nations can guard France from the perils which will ensue if that grave decline is not arrested. Man-power has been decreasing in France at a rate which threatens to cripple the country at the very time when it is hoped to re-establish the national life, when the northern territory has recovered sufficiently from the ravages of German sabotage. Before the war the birth-rate was between 19 and 21 per

1000—low enough in all conscience. During the war it fell to between 8 and 9 per 1000. Bounties do not seem to have been effective, and the prolvlem is, of course, only enhanced by the high and rising cost of living. This vital question is curiously little discussed in the French Press, but it is the subject of the gravest- concern to all true patriots. Now that, for the first for many years, the Elysee is to ring with the laughter of children, all lovers of France will nray that in- the humblest classes—where births are far more restricted than in Great Britain—and amongst the more comfortably situated, one of the greatest national needs will be realised and supplied. , . . It is mainly from the legal point of view that woman is the national paradox. Though there is scarcely a profi --ir.il in which Frenchwomen have not distinguished themselves, and though they take such a prominent part iu rV commercial lite of the country—the j i'amou- 8011 Marche was founded by a

woman —they have 110 voice in the> voting of the taxes which they have to pay. We have plenty of anomalies of hit own. such as the inclusion of the wife's income with her husband's for nuino-es of income-tax. but- it may surprise Englishwomen. conscious of iheir great measure of independence, to know that it i> only since 1007 that il'? French wile ha-- been at liberty to flispose of her personal earnings or savings as «he ph-ascd. Vet woman remains, in a more dtgnilied and wortliv sense than in the days of the Pompadours and tile Maintenons. a great power in tin Siaie. She is never too proud to admit the sex influence, charmingly and discreetly as she usually wields it. and tor the rest, with the peculiarly French conservatism, ■die seems to think she has. more real influence than she could exercise a.s ail elector.

It was en a glorious June afternoon in the wonderful Forest of Fontaineb';au that the writer caught a vis'on of tin spirit of France^ — the true France of the countryside, serenely -in-.l piouslv conscious of what victory means, iv.-isnid to its cost. The little tstamiiiel in the heart of the forest was silent as the unknown grave of the soldier-son i.f the old woman who cheerfully tmerged. warned by the bailing of her little fox-terrier, to see to the wavfarer's need-. The dog? Oh. yes, he had belonged to her son in the trrnches. she said, quietly. "The dog came back : my soil did not." she addccK patting her pet. There was 110 more to be said No conventional expressions of sympathy was asked for by this old mother of Frartcr —the type to whom now. as in the past, the country owes so much of its thrift and steadfastness, though it is said .that even the peasant nowadays is by 110 means immune from the canker of extravagance which has eaten its wav into the hen it of the Capital.

To one who has had frequent opportunity to study social conditions, particularly in Paris, during the last twelve months, nothing is more striking than the way in which in the early part of 1919. when the army was .yet largely mobilised. Frenchwomen were srill carrying on. During the war the superficial Englishman or American may have drawn a wrong impression from the practical absence of Frenchwomen in uniform. There w?re the pic-turesquely-garbed ladies of the Croix Rouse, lint there was 110 counterpart of the smart Wrens. Waacs. and oth.-r formations so familiar to English people. The explanation is that the women of France, accustomed to heavy toil —even to scavenging—in the past, simply .-set their teeth in a. smile and required no uniform to carry 011 with redoubled effort the work which they had always known a Continental war would involve. That ■ the Paris one knew before the war has vastly changed has been the constant theme of the chroniclers of the Press. Fashion has always changed. in obedience to the dictates of the goddess who prescribes for the world .of frocks and frills. "Plus ca change, plus e'est la meme chose.'' But it :s those other changes, which do not- add to the attractions of the female form divine, but distract the housewife, that have 'fciadc Paris a very different citv to live in. - The smart mowlainc—differing in that respect in the old days from the lady in South 'Kensington who ordered liiost of her household necessities by telephone from the stores shows less inclination than formerly to "do her own shopping." Time was when all but the. greatest ladies in Paris did uot scorn to go forth'with economical mind to market for themselves. - Now. though the economy is ail, the more desirable, it is not so nntch in evidence in thnC class. But the steadv-going bourgeoise is as keen on bargaining as ever. Any morning, wet or"fine.. vou can see the patroimes of hotels and mnisons meublees—frenuently quite rich piH^le —market-bag in.hand, and s>« intent on getting the utmost for their money as when they first started business. In their ideas of bodily welfare, the humbler class of Parisians—particularly, t he women—-contrnst with our own rcople. There is s> robustness about the waitress at fhe lower-ijriced restaurants. for instance, which one cannot btit connect with the heartv dejenner to which she sits down with as 'mnch zest as any customer, True, she has

previously only consumed her. morning coffee, roll and butter —it - she -could •get it! —but the relative advantage of this generous meal in the midst ot n long day's work is at least suggestive lo tnose who have observed the sltetchy luncheons of ninnv of our ovm working .girls. Time will.show whether Pussyfoot will ever stpul with cat-like tread into this wine-growing and wine.-lov-°ing country. If so. lie is sure of an interesting reception, and he will ha v to find some' fresh arguments. Wine | or beer always forms part- of the luncheon even (Sf/tbe waitress in question. There is a French saying to the effect that- tire Frenchwoman never despairs of her personal appearance—?v< n if the nape of her neck is. her only good point, she will contrive to make herself attractive.. Perhaps it is this innate desire to make the best of her physical attractions which has constituted Frenchwomen the arbiters'- of the world of fashion —-though, to mention yet another paradox—rthe best dressmakers, as well as the best cooks and hairdressers are Frenchmen. But in one particular Nature; without the aid of artifice, seems to have given the. Parisienne a great advantage over her English sister. For whatever reason,, however humbly shod or however highheeled the shoes, in Paris one seldom sees ankles that, turn this in a city whose women are less given to sport than we are.