Punch (54.1868)

57

February 8, 1868.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THIS IS MR. PUNCH'S LATEST SUGGESTION

For a very Sweet Thing in Short Dresses.

LOR A’ THAT AND A' THAT.

A New Version, respectfully recommended to Sundry whom
it concerns.

More luck to honest poverty,

It claims respect, and a’ that;

But honest wealth’s a better thing,

We dare be rich, for a’ that.

For a’ that, and a’ that,

And spooney cant and a’ that,

A man may have a ten-pun note,

And be a brick for a’ that.

What though on soup and fish we dine,

WTear evening togs, and a’ that,

A man may like good meat and wine,

Nor be a knave for a’ that.

For a’ that, and a’ that,

Their fustian talk and a’ that,

A gentleman, however clean,

May have a heart for a’ that.

You see yon prater called a Beales,

Who bawls and brays and a’ that,

Tlio’ hundreds cheer his blatant bosh,

He’s but a goose for a’ that.

For a’ that, arid a’ that,

His Bubblyjocks, and a’ that,

A man with twenty grains of sense,

He looks and laughs at a’ that.

A prince can make a belted knight,

A marquis, duke, and a’ that,

And if the title’s earned, all right,

Ohl England’s fond of a’ that.

For a’ that, and a’ that,

Beales balderdash, and a’ that,

A name that tells of service done
1 s worth the wear, for a’ that.

Then let us pray that come it may
And come it will for a’ that,

That common sense may take the place
Of common cant and a’ that.

For a’ that, and a’ that,

Who cackles trash and a’ that,

Or be he lord, or be he low,

The man’s an ass for a’ that.

PERSONS WIIO PLEASE THEMSELVES.

Of course, Mr. Punch, you have read a letter, pleading the cause of
certain outcasts, which the distinguished surgeon, Mr. Skey, the other
day wrote to the Times. If any of your readers happen to be acquainted
with any prigs and any prudes, endowed, however, with some share of
good feeling and good sense, I hope they will try and induce them to
attend to the appeal put forth, for their enlightenment, by Mr. Skey.

But, Sir, there is one little argument in Mr. Skey’s above-mentioned
letter, to which I must demur. He asks : —

“ Can it be supposed that the society of their own sex is a sufficient incentive to
j extravagance in dress ? ”

The answer to this question expected by Mr. Skey of course is—No.
But my reply is Yes. More than that, I say that not only can it be
supposed that the society of their own sex is a sufficient incentive to
extravagance of dress on the part of most Persons of the sex referred
! to by Mr. Skey, but also that such is in general actually the case
The great majority of them, I am sure, dress solely with a view
to the effect which their clothes will produce on others who are
naturally qualified to wear similar clothes. I don’t imagine that effect
to be intended to be always, or even usually, admiration or pleasure
Astonishment, I should rather think. Perhaps it does not disappoint
expectation when it is envy.

Mr. Skey represents “the love of finery and dress” characteristic
of Persons, as “ a taste implanted in them by nature for purposes that
make them attractive to our sex, for whom they live and move.” Yes ;
but it has been diverted, or perverted, from those purposes. Why did
Persons persist so long in wearing crinoline? It was detested, it was
ridiculed by all mankind. Why is their evening dress generally so low as
to be grotesque, and so long as to he apparently intended to conceal splav
feet ? as it probably was by the Person, whoever she was, who invented
it, or for whom it was invented. We, Sir—I trust I may say we—like
to see the Person decorated and adorned in such wise as to set off
every one of her personal advantages, and enhance them, all and
sundry, in the highest possible degree. A quantity of fine clothes, which
might, for aught we can discern, drape a stake or a pole, excites no

emotion in our minds but pity for the wearer, and more pity for the
man who will have to pay for it all. The majority of Persons dress as
Fashion bids them, and would not on any account dress otherwise to
make themselves ever so attractive to any one of the sex which is Mr
Skey’s. and yours, and miue. Why do they still wear those pigtails ?
I mean chignons.

However, Fashion has certainly done one graceful thing for Persons,
in giving them their present walking-dresses, at once elegant and sen-
sible. Too pretty and too reasonable to last, I am afraid, Mr. Punch.
It is too probable that we shall soon see distended skirts again ob-
structing the pavement, or flowing trains once more sweeping it.
Some vulgar Persons continue to go about with hoops under their
gowns. They are accustomed, as you have observed, to cram omni-
buses. and make them stuffy, and wipe their muddy skirts as they go
in and out on people’s knees. A true lady, if hoops were fashionable
for a private carriage-dress, would relinquish them if she had to ride in
a public vehicle.

The remarks in Mr. Skey’s excellent letter about female extrava-
gance in dress—obiter dicta—are quite true for their purpose, only the
cause of that extravagance is not that which he fondly assigns. Such,
at least, is the opinion of your old friend, Silenus.

P.S. I am stopping at the Graces.

A Graphic Symphony.

Transcendentalism in ideas of the power of sound has been sup-
posed to be represented as pushed to absurdity in the notion of “ music
descriptive of a man’s going abroad, and changing his religion.”
What, then, do you say to a composition performed the other evening
at Mr. Barney's Concert, namely Mendelssohn’s “Reformation
Symphony?” For that describes people staying at home and changing
their religion, which it is not easier to conceive capable of being
musically described than going abroad and doing so.

A Poor Relation.—Telling an anecdote badly.