Jack Watson War
speaker
512 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Jul 2026
last heard 20 Jul
Jack Watson War’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
Trend
recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Jul 2026 with 1.
Appearances
The first time you find these faithful disciples of the bullroom diligently engaged and happy in the duties of the home circle, send me words.
for I would go a great way to see such a phenomenon.
These creatures have no home, their children unwashed, their furniture undusted, their china closets disordered,
The house a scene of confusion, misrule, cheerlessness, and dirt.
One would think you might discover even amid the witcheries of the ballroom the sickening odours of the unswept, unventilated, and unclean domestic apartments.
These dissipations extinguish all love of usefulness.
How could you expect one to be interested in the alleviations of the world's misery while there is a question to be decided about the size of a glove or the shade of a pongee?
How many of these men and women of the ballroom visit the poor, or help dress the wounds of a returned soldier in the hospital?
When did the world ever see a perpetual dancer distributing tract?
Such persons are turned in upon themselves, and it is very poor pasture.
This gilded spear is utterly bedwarping to intellect and soul.
This constant study of little things, this harassing anxiety about dress, this talk of fashionable infinitesimals, this shoe pinched, hair frizzled, fringe spattered group that simper and look ascant at the mirrors and wonder, with infinity of interest, how that one geranium leaf does look.
this shrivelling up of the man's moral dignity until it is no more observable with the naked eye, this taking of a woman's heart that God meant should be filled with all amenities, and compressing it until all the fragrance and simplicity and artlessness are squeezed out of it, this inquisition of a small shoe,
this agony of tight lacing, this wrapping up of the mind and heart in a ruffle, this tumbling down of a soul that God meant for great upliftings,
I prophesy the spiritual ruin of all participators in this rivalry.
Have the white, polished, glistening boards ever been the road to heaven?
Who with the flash of those chandeliers have kindled the torch for eternity?
From the table spread at the close of that excited and besweated scene, who went home to say his prayers.
To many, alas, this life is a masquerade ball.
As at such entertainment, gentlemen and ladies appear in the dress of kings or queens, mountain bandits or clowns, and at the close of the dance throw off their disguises, so in this dissipated life all unclean passions move in mask.
Showing 141–160 of 512 · page 8 of 26
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