The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-10-18
POPPING TIE QUESTION ON THE
QTAEE

STAGE.
From he'London Saturday Reoiew.
There is a question which is assumed by
ingenious youth to be so universal that, in
fact, one-half of the human race is supposed
to ask it of the other half. The boy who con-
templates his future at all takes for granted
that he will some day ask some WON ian to
marry him, and all girls suppose the time viii
come when they must answer Yes or No. The
question, then, being at once inevitable aud
Of SO momentous a nature, and so much
moreover hanging on the wsy of putting it,
and the whole subject, too, being shrouded in
mystery-for to the eternal honor of the sex
who are questioned, cloud rests on the man
ner and method of their questioners, and deli
cate reticence forbids the illumination which
experience might throw on this point-it is
no wonder that youth especially should find
the subject interesting even when treated by
fancy and in the abstract, and should well
come that reading or dramatic representation
through which alone can be derived hints,
and the more definite and mastery instruc-
ton of example, as to the mode in which the
ordeal should be gone through with when the
critical moment in their own personal history
arrives. Nor does this natural spirit of inquiry
miss its satisfaction. Fiction indeed has
made it at once duty and delight to put
young persons of either sex in the way of ac
quitting themselves with credit in what is
conventionally assumed to be the most diff
cult embarrassing, and even crucial moment
of existence; suggesting infinite alternatives,
and adapting itself to every humor, so that
no one need be driven, for want of example
or precedent, to play part for which nature
has not fitted him.
Considering how the drama undertakes to
enact before mems eyes every supreme mo-
ment incident to humanity, the art of making
proposals ought by this time to be easy, and
a study of genteel comedy ought to precede
every declaration; but in fact, and with one
exception, it is not to the drama that the
lover anxious to acq1it himself with dis
tinction should turn. Tragedy rarely deals
in such amenities, and it's precedents are
full of i'll omen; while comedy will
only treat the affair as joke. There is un-
fortunately an element of the ludicrous every
where haunting this subject, rendering all di-
rect representation hazardous. Playwrights
shirk it for their dignifed lovers, and actors
mistrust their powers of subduing the specta-
tor to any gravity of sympathy. A proposal
involving the graceful emotions betting the
occasion is still a thing for the imagination
to picture, not for more flippant eye and ear
to witness. Therefore it belongs rather to
the novel than even to the domestic drama.
There is plenty of love-making on the stage,
but the proposal either precedes the action
as when Milamant is all the way through
considering whether she shall accept Mirabell
or not, and triumphing in her power; 81 think
! must resolve after all not to have you we'll,
l won't have you, Mirabell-I'm resolved-I
think you may go. Ha ha, ha! what would
you give that you could help loving me!'-
or, like murder, it comes off behind the
scenes; or it is arranged, as the newspapers
say, by the lady papa. Thus Boniface offers
his daughter aud her two thousand pounds to
Gibbet. ''And what think you, then, of my
daughter Cherry for wife ?'-the highway
man, as great master of policy and of his
feelings as his august betters in such con-
tracts, replying; 'Look ee, my dear Bonny;
Cherry is the goddess / adore; but it is a
maxim that man and wife should never have
il in their power to hang one another, for,
if they should, heaven have mercy on them
both.
But such neatuess and readiness, such per
ception of the situation, as is here displayed,
is no part OF the conventional stage proposal
1t is the BOBBY, the country pumpkin, the
fop, the blunderer who makes his offer on
the boards. Everybody is familiar with Lord
Dundrearys' offer, and his philosophical pre-
paration for either fortune. The past CEN
fury was equally we'll acquainted with evil
ful's' method of recommending himself: "A
match or no match, cousin with the hard
name, if you have mind to be married, say
the word and send for the piper. Say the
word and I'll dot; Wilful will dot that's
my crest;"-and also with Steele's
Humphrey Gubbins" notion of making
himself agreeable to his cousin bridget" or
''Psrthenissa," as she prefers to call herself,
keeping her Christian name as the greatest
secret she has-''Look ye, cousin, the old
folks resolving to marry us, | thought it
would be proper to see how liked you, as
not caring to marry pig in poke" Gold
smith, too, is ingenious in predcaments
founded on the tyranny of parents in the dis
posing of their children. Thus 'Leontiue," I"
in the Good NGtured Nan, having brought
home as his sister (who had been away with
her aunt this ten years. the lady he is en-
love to his ward, "Miss Richand," who
loses half her fortune if she marries without
her guardians consent, which of course
she intends to do. She gets an inkling of
the situation the moment before her reluctant
lover arrives to pay his court, and resolves
upon the most implicit acquiescence. First
he stammers, blunders, and throws all upon
his father. "My father, madam, has some
intentions-of explaining an affair-which-
himself-can best explain" In vain is he
urged on by old ''Croaker" with allup look,
you dog" He founders into dead silence,
which the senior hastens to attribute to the
violence of his passion. Miss ''Richland"
finds great attraction in modest
diftidence-"A silent address is the genuine
eloquence of sincerity" MADAM, says the
father, ''he has forgot to speak any other
language silence is become his mother
tongue" Sand it must be confessed, sir, "
the lady blandly replies, sit speaks very
powerfully in his favor" "Leontine, finding
his modesty so attractive, now tries what i'm
pudence viii do, and loudly expresses his
adoration:-
Miss Richland-If could natter myself you