Thank you for correcting the text in this article. Your corrections improve Papers Past searches for everyone. See the latest corrections.

This article contains searchable text which was automatically generated and may contain errors. Join the community and correct any errors you spot to help us improve Papers Past.

Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

Are We Less Sentimental ?

DECAY OF THE VALENTINE (Writtten for THE SUN by ANNE ELLESMERE.)

'p'EBRUARY 14. St. Valentine’s A Day. A square of parclnnent. Two hearts transfixed by a single arrow shot from Cupid’s bow. Underneath: “I’ll be yours, if you’ll be mine. 1 am your pleasing Valentine.” Simple, artless words, yet calculated to cause delicious flutterings in great grandmama’s bosom. Dear Archibald. How charming of him to send such a valentine to his Arabella. Perhaps—if she wore her best crinoline this afternoon. . . . Have we, after all, advanced so very far since those guileless times? True, we have everything from airplanes to talking pictures, but those demure Victorian misses possessed a thrill which we have forgotten—tho Valentine. How the Roman martyr, St. Valentine, who lived somewhere about the third century, A.D., and of whom nothing is known (except that he was a priest) came to be regarded as the patron saint of lovers will always he shrouded, more or less in mystery. One of the most popular theories is the following. Even after Christianity had been recognised as the official religion of the great, Roman Empire there were many who, though nominally Christian, clung to some of the old heathen customs. Among these was the practice of boys drawing the names of girls in honour of the goddess, Februata Juno. This took place on February 15. Gradually the more zealous of the Christian pastors succeeded in substituting the names of saints, and we may conjecture that St. Valentine would lend his name to the ceremony from the fact of his feast happening to fall at this time, namely, on February 14. Even granted all this we are hard put to it to discover how St. Valentine, already identified with the drawing of patron saints, came at length to be regarded as himself the patron saint of lovers. Among the country folk, there was a tradition that the birds chose their mates on St. Valentine’s Day, because he was supposed to extend his patronage to them. If St. Valentine could thus look after the birds, why not human beings? Hence the custom of drawing Valentines, which has been thus described by an old writer: “On the eve of February 14, St. Valentine’s Day, a time when all living nature inclines to couple, the young folks in England and Scotland, too, by a very ancient custom, celebrate a little festival that tends to the same end. An equal number of

maids and bachelors get together, each with their true or some feigned name upon separate billets, which they roll up, and draw by way of lots, the maids taking the men’s billets, and the men the maids: so that each of the young men lights upon a girl that he calls his Valentine, and each ot the girls upon a young man which she calls hers. Fortune having thus divided the company into so many couples, the Valentines give balls and treats to their mistresses, wear their billets several days upon their bosoms or sleeves, and this little sport ends in love.” There was also another kind of Valentine, which was the first man seen by a woman, or the first woman seen by a man upon St. Valentine’s Day. The persons so seen were supposed to wed each other at no distant date. It is to this belief that the 18th century poet, Gay, of Beggar’s Opera fame, refers in the following lines, which he puts into the mouth of a young married woman: “Last Valentine, the day when birds of kind Their paramours with mutual chirpings find, I early rose, just at the break of day, Before the sun had chased the stars away ; Afield I went, amid the morning dew, To milk my kine (as so should housewives do). Thee first I spied, and the first swain we see, In spite of Fortune, shall our true love be.” People were far more credulous in those days certainly, but what innocent fun and merriment could be got out of such a custom. If only we could be as simple. Let me then put forward an earnest plea for the revival of the Valentine, at any rate in its Victorian form of sending out cards. We have our Christmas and New Year messages of greeting and goodwill. Why not Valentines? But let it be a revival with a difference, more suited to our strenuous modern times, suggests a confirmed old bachelor of my acquaintance. The transfixed hearts and suchlike symbols could be replaced by the representation of a lusty young woman in full pursuit of the elusive male, the drawing being accompanied, of course, by appropriate sentiments. The reception of such a Valentine would act in the nature of a merciful warning to the intended quarry, and give him time to consider his line of defence!

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19300215.2.101

Bibliographic details

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 898, 15 February 1930, Page 10

Word Count
806

Are We Less Sentimental ? Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 898, 15 February 1930, Page 10

Are We Less Sentimental ? Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 898, 15 February 1930, Page 10

Help

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert