“Monstrous Regiment of Women" Rule.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVI, Issue 3, 20 January 1906, Page 42

“Monstrous Regiment of Women" Rule.

(Ry lan Maclaren.) With all his excellencies, John Knox was nether a conspicuously courteous nor prudent man, but he never did anything so rude or foolish as the book which he published in Geneva in 1558, and which he called, to give the full title, "The First Blast of the Trumpet. Against the Monetfdus Regiment of Women.” By regiment the reformer, of course, meant not a battalion but the government of women, and there is this excuse for his wild outbreak —that he had been banished from England by Mary Tudor, and was forbidden in Scotland by Mary of Guise, and not being a person of remarkable docility, he was furiously angry that he should be kept from his work by the authority of women. Women, indeed, were much in evidence in those days, because Elizabeth was to succeed Alary in England, and Queen Alary Stuart was to succeed her mother, the regent of Scotland. while Catherine de Medici was queening it in France. Scotland. England, France, it did not matter where you went, you came against a woman ruler, and a determined one. who did not intend to have any nonsense if she could help it, and was not inclined to bow the knee to reforming preachers. So Knox lifted up his voice against the rule of women, and blew his brazen trumpet with all his might, proving from Scripture, to the best of his ability, but not successfully, that women should not be on the throne. Deborah troubled him much, and Stevenson believed that Knox left his bones at that point, but Deborah served him in good stead afterwards, for when he tried to make his pence with Queen Elizabeth (and failed) he admitted that there were two exceptions to the principle of penal subordination: one was Deborah and the other was Elizabeth. If.one .were ever to allow, himself to use Knox’s exceedingly impolitic and offensive language, and to speak about the "monstrous regiment of women,” it would lie when he was thinking of a certain kind of woipan who gives herself not to household duties, which she is apt to despise, but to public life where she proposes to set right the affairs of the commonwealth. Among such women there are many gentle and lovable persons, but there are others who are, to put it modestly, less than attractive. They are not good-look-ing, nor well dressed, nor persuasive in manner, nor humble in spirit. One may respect their intentions, but he does not hanker after their company, and he is most grateful to Providence that that kind of woman does not live

in his house. As a rule, this womaa does hot live in any man’s home, but, like a star, dwells apart. Although, whether this seclusion ?s due to th* loftiness of her ideals or to the blindness of mankind may be a question of debate. One is relieved, however, to think that his excellent female is usually unmarried, and this seems to be the conviction of that shrewd and discerning body of men, ftie police force. One day, so the story goes, a policeman was on guard outside a hall where the Female Workers of the United Kingdom, or whatever that body of ladies is called which supervises society, was meeting. His duty was to see that no man be allowed in to the sacred rites, and he was determined to do his duty.

“Ladies only, sir,” as an elderly gentleman came up and desired admittance. “Can’t allow you in.”

i “Just so, officer, just so. I quite understand,” said some poor Air Peterkin. -with trembling manner, "but I’ve come to take my wife home. If you’ll just allow me to look in at the door she will see me and leave. In fact, officer, she told me to be here at this hour, and 1 must show myself.” “No use, sir,” said the officer, regarding the abject figure amiably, and wondering that there could be so much deceit in such a simple-looking man. “That story won’t do with me,” and then, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to the hall behind, “there’s none of that lot married.” Poor Peterkin, however, is sometimes married, and. although lie is accustomed to the yoke, it sometime* rc-ts heavy upon him. "Now, old man,” said the host to his friend when the hostess had bidden them good-night and the two bad made their way to the study, “we’ll-have an hour’s quiet talk and a smoke. My wife is great on early hours, and I generally fall in with her wishes, but. we’ll hear 12 o’clock strike to-night, at any rate. A man ought to be Julius Caesar in his own house.” The door had not been closed, and he spoke too loudly, for the next second a voice was heard, low but firm: “Julius Caesar, come to bed.” and Julius Caesar went.