"Such people there are living and flourishing in the world,--Faithless, Hopeless, Charityless,--let us have at them, dear friends, with might and main!"--THACKERAY.
Who can adequately describe the thrilling excitement attending an aristocratic "crush,"--an extensive, sweeping-off-of-old-cores "at home,"--that scene of bewildering confusion which might be appropriately set forth to the minds of the vulgar in the once-popular ditty, "Such a getting-up-stairs I never did see!" Who can paint in sufficiently brilliant colors the mere outside of a house thus distinguished by this strange festivity, in which there is no actual pleasure,--this crowding of carriages--this shouting of small boys and policemen?--who can, in words, delineate the various phases of lofty indignation and offense on the countenances of pompous coachmen, forced into contention with vulgar but good-natured "cabbys"--for right of way? . . . who can sufficiently set forth the splendors of a striped awning avenue, lined on both sides with a collection of tropical verdure, hired for the occasion at so much per dozen pots, and illuminated with Chinese lanterns! Talk of orange groves in Italy and the languid light of a southern moon! What are they compared to the marvels of striped awning?
Mere trees--mere moonlight--(poor products of Nature!) do not excite either wonder or envy--but, strange to say, an awning avenue invariably does! As soon as it is erected in all its bland suggestiveness, no matter at what house, a small crowd of street-arabs and nursemaids collect to stare at it,--and when tired of staring, pass and repass under it with peculiar satisfaction; the beggar, starving for a crust, lingers doubtfully near it, and ventures to inquire of the influenza-smitten crossing-sweeper whether it is a wedding or a party? And if Awning Avenue means matrimony, the beggar waits to see the guests come out; if, on the contrary, it stands for some evening festivity, he goes, resolving to return at the appointed hour, and try if he cannot persuade one "swell" at least to throw him a penny for his night's supper.
Yes--a great many people endure sharp twinges of discontent at the sight of Awning Avenue,--people who can't afford to give parties, and who wish they could,--pretty, sweet girls who never go to a dance in their lives, and long with all their innocent hearts for a glimpse,--just one glimpse!--of what seems to them inexhaustible, fairy-like delight,--lonely folks, who imagine in their simplicity that all who are privileged to pass between the lines of hired tropical foliage aforementioned, must perforce be the best and most united of friends--hungry men and women who picture, with watering mouths, the supper-table that lies beyond the awning, laden with good things, of the very names of which they are hopelessly ignorant,--while now and then a stern, dark-browed Thinker or two may stalk by and metaphorically shake his fist at all the waste, extravagance, useless luxury, humbug, and hypocrisy Awning Avenue usually symbolizes, and may mutter in his beard, like an old-fashioned tragedian, "A time will come!" Yes, Sir Thinker!--it will most undoubtedly--it must--but not through you--not through any mere human agency. Modern society contains within itself the seed of its own destruction,--the most utter Nihilist that ever swore deadly oath need but contain his soul in patience and allow the seed to ripen. For God's justice is as a circle that slowly surrounds an evil and as slowly closes on it with crushing and resistless force,--and feverish, fretting humanity, however nobly inspired, can do nothing either to hasten or retard the round, perfect, absolute and Divine Law. So let the babes of the world play on, and let us not frighten them with stories of earthquakes; they are miserable enough as it is, believe it!--their toys are so brittle, and snap in their feeble hands so easily, that one is inclined to pity them! And Awning Avenue, with its borrowed verdure and artificial light, is frequently erected for the use of some of the most wretched among the children of the earth,--children who have trifled with and lost everything,--love, honor, hope, and faith, and who are travelling rapidly to the grave with no consolation save a few handfuls, of base coin, which they must, perforce, leave behind them at the last.