AT various places in Suffolk (as elsewhere) penny readings take place
“for the instruction and amusement of the lower classes”. There is a
little town in Suffolk called Eye, where the subject of one of these
readings was a tale (by Mr. Wilkie Collins) from the last Christmas
Number of this Journal, entitled “Picking up Waifs at Sea”. It appears
that the Eye gentility was shocked by the introduction of this rude piece
among the taste and musical glasses of that important town, on which the
eyes of Europe are notoriously always fixed. In particular, the feelings
of the vicar’s family were outraged; and a Local Organ (say, the
Tattlesnivel Bleater) consequently doomed the said piece to everlasting
oblivion, as being of an “injurious tendency!”
When this fearful fact came to the knowledge of the unhappy writer of the
doomed tale in question, he covered his face with his robe, previous to
dying decently under the sharp steel of the ecclesiastical gentility of
the terrible town of Eye. But the discovery that he was not alone in his
gloomy glory, revived him, and he still lives.
For, at Stowmarket, in the aforesaid county of Suffolk, at another of
those penny readings, it was announced that a certain juvenile sketch,
culled from a volume of sketches (by Boz) and entitled “The Bloomsbury
Christening”, would be read. Hereupon, the clergyman of that place took
heart and pen, and addressed the following terrific epistle to a
gentleman bearing the very appropriate name of Gudgeon:
STOWMARKET VICARAGE, _Feb._ 25, 1861.
SIR,—My attention has been directed to a piece called “The Bloomsbury
Christening” which you propose to read this evening. Without
presuming to claim any interference in the arrangement of the
readings, I would suggest to you whether you have on this occasion
sufficiently considered the character of the composition you have
selected. I quite appreciate the laudable motive of the promoters of
the readings to raise the moral tone amongst the working class of the
town and to direct this taste in a familiar and pleasant manner.
“The Bloomsbury Christening” cannot possibly do this. It trifles
with a sacred ordinance, and the language and style, instead of
improving the taste, has a direct tendency to lower it.
I appeal to your right feeling whether it is desirable to give
publicity to that which must shock several of your audience, and
create a smile amongst others, to be indulged in only by violating
the conscientious scruples of their neighbours.
The ordinance which is here exposed to ridicule is one which is much
misunderstood and neglected amongst many families belonging to the
Church of England, and the mode in which it is treated in this
chapter cannot fail to appear as giving a sanction to, or at least
excusing, such neglect.
Although you are pledged to the public to give this subject, yet I
cannot but believe that they would fully justify your substitution of
it for another did they know the circumstances. An abridgment would
only lessen the evil in a degree, as it is not only the style of the
writing but the subject itself which is objectionable.
Excuse me for troubling you, but I felt that, in common with
yourself, I have a grave responsibility in the matter, and I am most
truly yours,