(_To the Editor of "Punch."_)
SIR,--Is it possible, in the so-called end of this so-called
nineteenth century, to dream of such a thing as the Age of Love? The
man of to-day, if he be wise, thinks not of the face and form of the
woman he may care to marry, but asks himself the question, "Will she
make me a good wife? Can she clean chimneys, cook and mend; is she
capable of discussing intellectually subjects of interest--such as
dentistry, hunting, symbolism, and so forth--with her husband? Can she
grind the organ, play the comb, is she active at crossing-sweeping
and cradle-rocking, quick at smiling away one's smiles and frowning
away one's tears, ready to greet all my friends with the same
amiability she shows to _me_, is she prepared for intelligent
begging-letter-writing, can she scour, skirt-dance, recite, carve,
mangle, and fence?" Too often he is bound to answer, "No, she cannot;
so what good is she to me?" I do not mean to say that all women are
like this. Heaven forbid! But good housewives are few and far between.
There are many girls of the period who are deficient in one or even
more of the accomplishments above-mentioned, so how can she be fitted
for the wife of a middle-class man?
It is all very well to love, but a vastly different matter to marry
such women as these. Good sound reason and common-sense are better
articles to possess. We cannot have too much of that--indeed, we
often get a great deal more than is good for us, so that in my humble
opinion friendship, common-sense, logic, and grammar are worth more
than all the love any man or woman can give; and it is all very well
to sneer at pessimists, but in my humble opinion they have only
themselves to blame for it, and through all ages it will ever be the
same until there is some alteration.