SOCIAL REHEARSALS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue III, 18 January 1896, Page 51

SOCIAL REHEARSALS.

Readers of the accounts of the recent colossal marriage ceremony in America with its prairies of flowers, its miles of very special dress trains, its bushels of precious stones its Niagara of dollars, and its wilderness of monkeys for the dudes were in force—may have passed over one apparently insignificant but most important fact ; namely, that the ceremony was most carefully rehearsed. And there was not too much rehearsal, but just rehearsal enough ; enough to eliminate the more striking absurdities and contretemps, and yet not enough to show the folly of the whole thing. It is a most commendable example. How many marriage ceremonies go off without a hitch ? Sometimes you have the bridegroom kept waiting so long that your first sympathy for him turns sour, and you smile at the idiotic figure he cuts, with his uneasy hands and feet, his sickening attempts to wear a smile, and his imploring looks at his best man, who bears his friend’s calami ties most cheerfully. Occasionally it is the bride who is kept waiting, as in the recent case where the bridegroom was locked up in the vestry by a too zealous friend, while the fuming father of the bride was scouring town in search of him. Very frequently trains are trodden on and bouquets crushed. We prefer to say nothing of the wrong responses, and the mad clutching at the wrong finger, in spite of the blushing bride s extension of the right one ; and a veil ought also to be drawn over the osculation at the close, which is too painful an exhibition. It is not true kissing at all. but mere nervous dabbing pecking, bumping, and, in the case of emotional parties, shampooing Rehearsal, therefore, is eminently desirable, and for all, not merely for millionaires ; and a full >ehearsal of all the company together. It is not enough for the heroine

to have got her part up letter-perfect. In a wedding, is everything. Other social ceremonies besides weddings would be all the better for rehearsal. It would be too much, perhaps, to ask a man to rehearse his funeral now and again, so as to give his friends a chance of getting their gloves to fit, and to conquer the desire for a smoke in the coach on the way back. But we may go a step further, and take the ceremony known as reading the will. Here is a fine opportunity for a most tender, touching, and impressive display, now entirely frittered away for want of preliminary study. Most assistants, ou hearing the words. ‘This is the last will and testament of me. Jemima Jones, spinster,’ heave a big sigh, and in very low-down cases even mntter, ‘ Poor dear !’ as though the fact that she was not only dead, but had actually made a will, was too much for them. All this sounds overdone. True art is much more economical of its emotions, and doesnot waste them on * last will and testament.’ Then at the words. ‘I give and bequeath.’ all look at the lawyer. So far so good ; but why shuffle in your chair, knit your brows, and make a noise as if you were sucking a lemon ? Yet, this is what is commonly done. Then as each legatee is named, why should the party throw his or her eyes up to the ceiling ? If it is to thank the spirit of Jemima, they will hardly find it in the gaselier. The residuary man varies these proceedings by gazing sadly on the carpet. When the reading isover, everyone draws his breath and glares at everyone else as though they were members of an Irish committee. As for the congratulations to the lucky one, they are either unnaturally forced, or downright caustic, as who should say the testator was a fool, and much good may it do you. It would be much better if, when a testator gives signs of breaking up. the interested parties would rehearse the scene a f-w times quietly and calmlv, each taking by turns the part of the lucky one, so that when the event really comes off they may go through it with decorum. Then, there is the reception of the testimonial. As at

present blundered through, there is no artistic spontaneity about it —the only possible charm such a ceremony could possibly hope to possess. The receiver overdoes his part, anil succeeds in looking as conscious and knowing as if he had started the testimonial himself, which, of course, is not always the case. He evidently wants practice in being ‘ taken aback.’ To stare with vour mouth open is not sufficient. This may satisfy the committee, who are near him on the platform, but the back rows can see nothing of it, and do not get enough for their money. What he wantsis a genuine jump back of a couple of yards, and a graceful flop into a handy chair. Everyone could see that, and would know be was taken aback. Then, he thinks it impressive to stammer about ’the sudden surprise,’ ‘the unlooked for compliment,’ ’ the last thing I expected,’ and so forth ; but it is not. He grasps the hand of the giver too effusively, and strains after a glistening eyeball too eagerly. When he recovers himself, he does so too much, and lets the cat out of the bag. He is s J fluent that a child could see he had prepared his speech beforehand. The man who • has the pleasing duty to perform ’ acts, as be imagines, in a friendly manner, but he is really patronising enough for a voter at election time ; while the man who pulls the cover off the teapot is generally a bit too soon, and frequently upsets the pot. The ideal presentation is, of course,’ ‘ There’s the mug.’—’ Oh, is that the jug ?’ and all is over : but as that would not waste sufficient time, at least let the ceremony be on artistic lines, well rehearsed. Some people make a great ceremony about the christening of an infant. The occasion is melancholy, tor the best one can do for the infant is to hope against hope that it won’t regret coming. Bu*. as ceremony there must be, let it be properly staged. Now nearly all babies are presented to the clergyman the wrong way ; we do not mean wrong side up, but with the head offered to his right arm instead of his left, and there is an awkward pause while he shifts it. Vicars and rectors manage this fairly well, but young curates blush up to the hair, and look anything but heavenly things at the cherub. This decidedly wants proper rehearsing. The great rite in the subsequent christening party is, of course, admiring the baby. Nothing requires more careful rehearsing, under a competent professor. Look at the man who ‘ thinks he can do it,’ and the exhibition he makes of himself ! He puts on a silly grin, scaring the child out of its little wits, and then says, ’ remarkably fine child ;’ makes a noise as if he were a coachman encouraging cattle, and fires a shot with his forefinger at the child’s armpit. Of course, he hits the other pit, and more s jualls ensue. This is both ridiculous and painful. A man should either omit the rite, or carefully rehearse it under the instructions of his wife. If he has none he might buy a doll in the Lowther Arcade, call at the Adelphi or the Lycenm for the leading comedian's address, and beg the favour of a few lessons on the doll. There are some minor ceremonies, such as the ‘ welcome,’ which often annoy one by their crudity. A man who is going to receive his friend in his ancestrall halls generally seems to have read somewhere that kings, in such circumstances, come down from their thrones, and take three steps towards the comer. This is all right enough, and would go off well, if the comer plaved up properly ; but there is usually a gross misunderstanding. The cower, seeing what importance the host attaches to his walk of welcome, waits for him to come on ; and the three allotted strides, to be efficient, have to be a yard and a-half long each. Or else the comer, rashly desiring to save his host trouble, rushes in, and does him out of a whole stride, or even a couple, and the ceremony is spoiled. In all these cases a little rehearsal would smooth matters much. The same observation applies more strongly to farewells, which are now only so many lost opportunities for genuine effect.