Valentines have hitherto been sentimental. This is a sad mistake in a
matter-of-fact age, when Love may knock at a person's door long enough
before he will be admitted, unless he comes handsomely dressed, and with
his pockets full of money. The old conventional altar, with a couple of
hearts on it pierced through with a skewer, which postmen leave at
houses wrapped up in pink covers, on the 14th of February, is but sorry
fare for young ladies who have been educated upon a hot luncheon every
day, and who would sooner have a basin of turtle than the prettiest pair
of pigeons that were ever served up with pink ribbon on the best satin
paper! Lovers forget that we are a nation of shopkeepers, and should
play their counters accordingly. How much better, instead of sending an
immense tulip with a gentleman sitting inside of it, it would be to
forward a small view of their fortune, drawn out in gold and silver on
their banker's cheque-book! Ladies might not take the trouble to look
under the paper rose, which when pulled out discloses the portrait of a
spooney Adonis, in a blue coat and black moustachios; but a sketch of
what the same "Spooney" intended to do, when married, in the way of a
carriage or an opera-box, would be a puzzle which every young lady could
but be deeply interested in finding out. Beauty is completely a matter
of taste; but a good establishment, with unlimited millinery, powdered
footman, violets all the year round, and subscription to the French
plays, is a simple thing which no two mammas could possibly dispute
about, and which every well-regulated daughter must appreciate at the
very first glance. In fact, the more such a Valentine was looked at, the
more it would be admired. The question nowadays is not, whether you are
handsome—that concerns your looking-glass only—but whether your fortune
has a handsome figure. Hymen has gone completely into the commercial
line; and the closer Valentines resemble advertisements, the easier
young gentlemen who offer themselves at a "tremendous sacrifice," will
find themselves go off. Cupid has turned butcher-boy, and it is
wonderful how he has enlarged his business since he has taken to serving
his customers with something richer than a couple of sheep's hearts
every day for dinner! For further inquiries, the young lady is referred
to the plate opposite.
[Illustration:
SOMETHING LIKE A VALENTINE.
]