There is a good deal in a name in the present day, and there are some names which for obvious reasons do not smell as sweet as roses, and therefore require changing. This observation does not, of course, refer to the change from Davies to Hughes, of which we know absolutely nothing, except that it appeared in the Standard of October 1873. As there seems little to choose between the two names, it is fair to assume that family reasons or property qualifications led to the alteration. In the interest of those good people who sincerely believe in appearances, we select our next example from the columns of the Times. Those, also, who are in the habit of asking what good there is in a University education will do well to ponder over these lines:—
ARTICLED ASSISTANT.—If the GENTLEMAN who called at Messrs —— and —— 29, Poultry, on Thursday the 20th February in answer to an advertisement in that day’s Times for “An Articled Assistant” will CALL again at the office to which he was referred, and where he stated that he was a Cambridge man &c., no doubt satisfactory arrangements can be made, as appearance is the chief object.
Appearance is indeed the chief object of attention at the present day, and its influence goes much farther than people imagine, even at the very time they are subscribing to it. Not alone does it affect the positions of the drapers’ young man, the shop-walker, and the modern jeune premier, the latter of whom may be an idiot so long as he is young, tall, slim, and good-looking, but it materially influences a higher class of society. Day after day we see men credited, by means of lying heads and faces, with the qualifications and abilities they do not possess; and, on the other hand, we as frequently find the mildest and most benevolent of gentlemen regarded as desperate characters or hard-fisted old curmudgeons. No one will nowadays believe that a man who does not look very clever or very foolish can do anything in literature or the arts above the common run; and the most frequent exclamation to be heard after a real celebrity has been seen is one of disappointment, so little will he bear comparison with the ideal. Appearances were never more deceptive, and never more believed in, than they are now.
Stories of advertising tombstones, some true, some apocryphal, are plentiful, and the best of those in which reliance can be placed is that about the Parisian grocer. It is well known that at the Père la Chaise Cemetery, near Paris, there stands, or stood, in a conspicuous position, a splendid monument to Pierre Cabochard, grocer, with a pathetic inscription, which closes thus:—
His inconsolable widow
dedicates this monument to his memory
and continues the same business at the
old stand, 187, Rue Mouffetard.
A gentleman who had noticed the inscription was led by curiosity to call at the address indicated. Having expressed his desire to see the widow Cabochard, he was immediately ushered into the presence of a fashionably-dressed and full-bearded man, who asked him what was the object of his visit. “I come to see the widow Cabochard.” “Well, sir, here she is.” “I beg your pardon, but I wish to see the lady in person.” “Sir, I am the widow Cabochard.” “I don’t exactly understand you. I allude to the relict of the late Pierre Cabochard, whose monument I saw yesterday at the Père la Chaise.” “I see, I see,” was the smiling rejoinder. “Allow me to inform you that Pierre Cabochard is a myth, and therefore never had a wife. The tomb you admired cost me a good deal of money, and, although no one is buried there, it proves a first-rate advertisement, and I have had no cause to regret the expense. Now, sir, what can I sell you in the way of groceries?” The art of mingling mourning and money-making was still better illustrated in the following notice of a death in a Spanish paper:—
This morning our Saviour summoned away the jeweller, Siebald Illmaga, from his shop to another and a better world. The undersigned, his widow, will weep upon his tomb, as will also his two daughters, Hilda and Emma; the former of whom is married, and the latter is open to an offer. The funeral will take place to-morrow.—His disconsolate widow, Veronique Illmaga. P. S. This bereavement will not interrupt our employment which will be carried on as usual, only our place of business will be removed from No. 3, Tessi de Teinturiers to No. 4, Rue de Missionaire, as our grasping landlord has raised our rent.
Advertisements which now and again appear in the Times from people who seek employment or money are both curious and eccentric, and in none of them do the writers suffer at all from bashfulness or modest ideas of their own qualifications. In this, which is an appeal for a situation, the constructor describes himself as
A CHARACTER.—The noblemen and gentlemen of England are respectfully informed that the advertiser is a self-taught man—a “genius.” He has travelled (chiefly on foot) through the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, in Holland, Germany, Switzerland, Belgium, France, and Italy. He has conducted a popular periodical, written a work of fiction in three vols., published a system of theology, composed a drama, studied Hamlet, been a political lecturer, a preacher, a village schoolmaster, a pawnbroker, a general shopkeeper; has been acquainted with more than one founder of a sect, and is now (he thanks Providence) in good health, spirits, and character, out of debt, and living in charity with all mankind. During the remainder of his life he thinks he would feel quite at home as secretary, amanuensis, or companion to any nobleman or gentleman who will engage a once erratic but now sedate being, whose chief delight consists in seeing and making those around him cheerful and happy. Address A. Z., at Mr. ——’s, —— Street, Regent’s Park.
As a rule, when people break out in this style they are much more in want of the money than the work, although they cloak their actual desires under the guise of applications for situations or employment. There are not a few, however, who come boldly to the point, as the following, also from the Times, shows:—