Life, 1883-07-05 · page 12 of 16
Life — July 5, 1883 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Onion City Revival" — Life Magazine Satire This page satirizes **Rev. James Lafayette Jones**, who attempted to make religion "popular" by adopting worldly affectations. The accompanying caricature shows him dressed in absurdly fashionable attire—a white plug hat, tooth-pick shoes, and flashy clothing—while juggling religious symbols (a cross, Bible) like carnival props. The satire's point: Jones believed stripping religion of its "awful and repelling features" would attract congregants. Instead of traditional clerical gravity, he drank Scotch whiskey, smoked cheap cigars, and dressed like a "dude" to appear relatable to ordinary people. The article mockingly chronicles his Sunday "performances"—tossing knives on the church porch before services to draw crowds, treating attendance as mere entertainment success. The broader satirical target is the commercialization and trivialization of religion through showmanship, suggesting that making faith "attractive" through fashion and theatricality fundamentally corrupts its spiritual purpose. The "Onion City" likely references Cincinnati.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
10 ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. E, A, C.—Please send your address to this office. ‘ HERMAN H."—Do likewise. Hoar.—Oh, yes, certainly ! you distinguished yourself by ‘‘ main- taining a dignified, cold, austere reserve towards Governor Butler on Commencement Day.” ' But who are you ? Dorsty.—No, dear man! you are too sensitive. His refusal to shake hands with you was probably on account of your poverty. 2d. Under the circumstances you would enjoy it more abroad. Ex-SECRETARY OF STATE.—Garrison's.—Yes, you were wise in not accepting for the Icthyophagous. ELa.—Virginia.—1. Yes, bullet through ‘a Southern Edi brain,” Beirne.—Virginia.—1. Do n't forget the caps. 2, Yes, as you say, 200 yards is a very good distance, but 200 miles is super. he powder is put in first. 2, No; a ’s head does not always * pierce the CHANDLER.— Washington.—Ask your friend, Mr. Dana. Cutips.—Philadelphia.— 1. We have put it onice, ready for Roscoe, as you requested. 2. Yes, it is “up to your average.” A WARNING TO THE DUDE, T= monkey, which is the next link above dogs in the Darwinian chain, was the other day the lero of a stirring episode at the College de France. M. Brown-Séquard, the eminent physiologist, in the presence of a highly fashionable and attentive audience, was about to proceed with the vivisection of a young monkey.—Alleged Paris despatch to Herald. I know a city fair to see —Ah met A town in Vurrup, called Parree. ‘The gentles of Amerikee —Ah me! Pronounce it ung vrai paradis. ‘Thither they fare across the sea —Ah me! So soon as June bedecks the lea. Lunnon itself beside Parree Ah me! Lacks the er-—ah—the donchersee ? But ah! no more that town shall be —Ah me! Sought by the inexpressive he. No more he'll quaff his eau-de-vie —Ab me! Beneath the caf/y's spreading tree. No more the garsong shall his fee —Ah me! Pourbwah—pouch with polite merci. Parree the gentle youth shall flee —Ah me! As there were the p-e-s-t. Because (in horror lifts each hair!) —Beware ! They're vivisecting monkeys there. * LIFE: THE ONION CITY REVIVAL. HE external appear- ance of the Rev. James Lafayette l Jones would never have led one to sus- 7 pect his holy profes- sion, His object, he said, was to strip from religion its aw- ful and repelling fea- Lean tures, and to show it to be, as in truth it really is, something agreeable and invit- ing. “To make religion popular,” this learn- ed divine is reported to have said, “you must make it attract- ive.” It was from such a consideration that the Rev. Jones wore a white plug hat, jauntily inclined from the perpendicu- lar, tooth-pick shoes, and had the interme- diate regions harmo- niously clad, It was for this reason that he heroically abstained from awful, clerical, sanctified port wine, and confined his libations to open-hearted, sociable old Scotch whiskey. For this reason, too, he never smoked any of your right reverend, twenty-five cent Havana cigars, but puffed familiarly and heartily at a confidential thirteen-for-a-quarter brand. He proposed, said the Rev. James Lafayette Jones, to make religion an every-day affair; people had an idea that religion went and came with the parson. That was because the parson was so unworldly, so unlike themselves. He proposed to show that the parson was nothing more than one of the people. On Sundays the Rev. James Lafayette Jones practi- cally demonstrated that his method was successful, if attendance at church be a token of success. It was an extremely stormy day when the sexton was not ob- liged to swing out the legend “Standing room only” before a quarter-past ten. The Rev. Jones’s manner of securing a congregation was original, simple, and unquestionably successful. At precisely ten o'clock of a Sunday morning he made his appearance on the church porch, tastily clad in black spangled tights and a pink Jersey. With a generous, seductive smile to the neighboring loafers, he would then begin to toss three knives in the air with much boldness and skill. A crowd soon-gath- ered, and finally the Rev. James Lafayette Jones, after announcing that the performance inside would pre- sently begin, repaired to his pulpit. comicbooks.com