Punch: Punch (32.1857)

254

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[June 20, 1857

I have observed that this invasion of after-dinner visitors always occurs
at such houses as the Kotoo's. It is a thing to be vehemently pro-
tested against. You might just as well dash a dozen buckets of cold
water into your warm bath before stepping into it, as pour a dozen
strange guests into a party of people who nave dined together. Be
content with simpler dinners, and then you may give five where you give
one now. Always ask a good proportion of young ladies to dine, and
your parties will be all the prettier and pleasanter. But never, never,
as you value the comfort of your dinner guests, or your own repu-
tation as a host or hostess, invite a batch of young ladies to 'come in
in the evening.'

" It is setting a man to the task of Sisyphus to condemn him to
hoist a new-comer up the hill of small talk. And then, the
odious cruelty to which these poor girls are sure to be subjected!
The way in which, without any regard to their own honest sense of
incapacity, or our susceptibilities, they are ordered to the piano, and
made to play and sing, no matter whether nature has or has not given
them ear or voice ! Have they not had guinea lessons from Herb,
Blausenbalg or Sign on Grattini? And for what end, if not to
qualify them for inflicting this sort of penance upon society? This
mournful kind of playing and singing by people who have no musical
capacity or love for what they are doing, to other people who don't
know them, and don't care for them or their music, and who never
asked for it, and who would rather ten thousand times not have it, is
one of the most wearing grinds on the Social Tread-mill, and one to which
we are oftener condemned, perhaps, than to any other.

" The hardest part of the case is, that the poor ministers of the
torture feel it as acutely as the sufferers.

" Mr. Punch has this week forwarded to the sufferer who writes
these papers, a letter from two young ladies, who describe themselves
as 'in training for the Social Tread-mill.'

' Their protest is against the style of education which they, like
other young ladies, are receiving.

" ' Of foreign languages,' write Constance and Emily—thank you,
young ladies, for your pretty names, at all events—' (if too many be not
crammed into our heads at once) we do not complain. We like
travelling, and when we go abroad the knowledge of these languages
conduces much to the pleasure derived from the trip, and is extremely
useful'—'to us?'—no-the sly pusses—'to Papa, and brothers, who
having had their time taken up with Greek and Latin, Law and
Physic, seldom speak French or German intelligibly.'

" We will allow Constance and Emily their little joke at the
expense of masculine ignorance. At the same time we should like to
ask Constance and Emili to put their taper white hands on their
hearts—if those articles have not been stolen—and say how many of
their friends have learnt, either at school or from a governess, to speak
French, Italian, or German, so as to enable their Papas or brothers to
dispense with a courier in the family travels ?

' But,' continue Constance ana Emily, ' why should we all, irre-
spectively of the talent we may or may not possess, have music and
drawing inflicted on us ? We are told these arts afford enjoyment to
the rich, and employment to the poor. So they may when there is
great talent: but, alas, to the majority of us, they are but sources of
grief when we are learning them, and of shame and mortification when
we are compelled to show off our accomplishments to our unadmiring
friends. We can perfectly appreciate the verdict "very sweet!" pro-
nounced by sarcastic persons on our most bitterly out-of-time-and-tune
performances, and the contemptuous "very pretty!" when our bad
drawings are displayed.'

" Grief, shame, and mortification, my dear young ladies! You
forget you are in training for the Social Tread-mill. You have no right
to any such feelings. The Artful Dodger might as well talk of grief,
shame, and mortification, when brought before the beak, for being
found with his hand in a gentleman's pocket. You must put such
puling sentimentality in your pockets- if you wear those antiquated
receptacles—and learn to brazen it out, like your sisters in check
aprons and blue stuff bed gowns at Brixton, and take your punish-
ment like 'game 'uns' and 'trumps.'

" You write, in your simplicity, as if you thought the object of your
education was to make you better and wiser women. My dear
children, you have described that object much better when you spoke
of being 'in training for the Social Tread-mill.' It is to harden your
hearts against self-accusation, to plate your faces against shame, and
to steel your nerves against weariness, that they are putting you
through this preparation for your life-long penance. You are to be
fitted to catch husbands, not to live with them. The one is a great
art—the other comes by nature, I suppose.

"It is clear to me, however, that your training is being very seriously
neglected. You talk about 'wishing to be taught to "play and sing
simple English songs,' instead of ' difficult fantasias or astonishing
bravuras in a few guinea lessons from German or Italian professors'—
about 'much preferring to learn to read well aloud good English
poetry and prose, to sitting for two or three hours daily on a hard
music-stool, before a tinkling piano, practising horrid exercises and
dreary pieces '—Why, bless my heart! the chafing fiHy which you see

Miss Reynolds putting through its paces in Rotton Row might just
as reasonably complain of that young lady's sharp curb and stinging
little whip, or of the tiny spurs hidden under the short skirt of her
habit. The filly is not there to enjoy herself, but that she may learn to
carry a lady! So you are not being educated to make the best of
your head and heart, but that you may learn to ' attract a gentleman!' "

FOLLOW SUIT.

ometimes we fancy that the
pillars of Bedlam can be no
other than the advertising
columns of our different news-
papers. _ Here is the last touch
of insanity, which we select from
that rich repertory of madness;
and what enriches the curiosity
in this instance is that the
advertiser is a medical man :—

TO SURGEONS.—The Assiat-
J- ant Surgeon to a Militia Regiment
in the South of England, being about
to resign his commission on account
of being engaged in private practice,
would be happy to INTRODUCE as
Mb SUCCESSOR, anygeutleman duly
qualified, and on condition that, in
the event of appointment, he pur-
chased the advertiser's uniform,
which is nearly as good as new, and
which would be sold considerably
below its value. Or the whole or any
of the articles would be sold a bargain
to a medical officer of the line, for
whom, with slight alteration, they
would be ndapted. Apply at, &c. &c.

The figure of jumping into
another man's shoes when you
supplant him, or succeed him,
is common enough, but the idea
of jumping into another man's
entire suit of clothes is some-
thing delightfully new. But supposing, for men will vary in height,
the clothes didn't fit him ? The fix might be very awkward as well as
ridiculous. The advertiser should have given the particular of his
proportions. He should have stated at full-length how high he
stood without his stockings, how much he measured round the
waist, and whether he was inclined to corpulency or not, with full
details as to the breadth of his shoulders, the circumference of his
calves, &c, &c. There is a lamentable omission, also, which we
regret, for the Assistant Surgeon says nothing about his boots, _or
his slippers, or his old gloves, or his hats. We cannot help thinking
that the man who would purchase the cast-off clothes of another,
would not be over-nice as to the acquisition of his other articles of
apparel. Really, we thought that such practices were only common
in establishments where flunkeys found their own liveries. We have
heard that the incoming Jeames has bought at a considerable reduc-
tion the abdicated plush of the outgoing Jeames, but we _ little sus-
pected that medical officers were in the habit of trying it_ on in a
similar manner. What pains us more than anything else, is to find
that this Esculapian Jew clothes'man belongs to a militia regiment.
Now, we should have thought that a militia regiment was about the
very last in which such a penurious turn-coat was likely to have
signalised himself. One thing is pretty clear, the militia in question
couldn't have been Bucks.

The Progress of Priestcraft.

The King oe Naples has concluded a new Concordat, with Rome,
in virtue of which he will henceforth practically cease to reign over
the ecclesiastical portion of his subjects, and those priests will be able
to do nearly whatever they please, unrestrained by any law but that
of the Church. The Grand Duke oe Tuscany is expected to
follow the example of Bomba. Concordats are becoming quite the
rage among the crowned heads of the Continent; perhaps this rage
of the sovereigns will excite some slight explosions of popular fury.

THE SEACOLE FUND.

Mr. Punch has determined to go out of his usual course and receive
subscriptions for Mrs. Seacole. Mr. P. has received from

Alexander Oswald, Esq., Edinboro' ......... <£20.

All Post Office Orders must be made payable to William T.
Doyne, Esq., Hon. Sec. to the Seacole Fund, % Derby Street, West-
minster.