Life, 1885-07-16 · page 11 of 16
Life — July 16, 1885 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 39 This page contains a satirical essay by W.R. Benjamin mocking the concept of "Sheol"—a refined, high-society version of hell. The piece contrasts two hypothetical punishments: one for "Mr. Fitz-Roy" (a gentleman who would suffer petty annoyances in genteel surroundings) and one for "Grubb" (who faces brutal, physical torment). The satire targets Victorian social anxieties about punishment and morality. Benjamin argues that for a privileged man, the worst hell wouldn't be dramatic suffering but rather the accumulation of minor humiliations—muddy coffee, square-toed shoes, social exclusions, cheating at tennis. For a lower-class figure like Grubb, actual physical torture might paradoxically be preferable to psychological torment. The two illustrations below appear unrelated to the essay text, labeled "(3) The Fence Acts on Clare" and "(4)" with cryptic notation. Their specific reference is unclear without additional context.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“LIFE : self, but it is absurd to believe that Mr. Fitz-Roy would besent there as a companion, even though he were guilty of any degree of wickedness. Yet Mr. Fitz-Roy must be punished, and how should this be done without disturbing the analogy which exists between the present and the hereafter? The revisers have met this difficulty bravely by the discovery of “Sheol.” Sheol is a high-toned hell, where only good society is admitted. Its appointments are like those of a first-class hotel, and it has many comforts which only exist to make the annoyances more poignant by contrast. The beds are soft and comfortable, but the slats fall out during the night, and you are awakened as early as nine o’clock by an unseemly noise under your windows. The breakfast looks nice, but is never seasoned properly, and the coffee is muddy. The shoes provided for you are well made, but they are square-toed when the style is round- toed. Pantaloons are tight when they should be loose, hats have narrow brims, single’ eye-glasses are unknown, and in place of pug dogs, you have dogs with three heads. All sorts of accidents happen during the day. The devil boot- black gets blacking all over your fancy stockings, the ham- mock breaks down, the horse runs away with the dog-cart, and you are omitted from the guests invited to a high-toned reception given by Mrs. Proserpine. The little devils steal your best silk hat and rub the fur all the wrong way, and you never can find your ebony cane when you want it, as the 39 chances are that some lazy imp has taken it as a new handle for his pitchfork. If you take a sail on the Styx, you are sure to be capsized, or stuck in a brimstone bank. From these delays the name of the river is supposed to be derived. At dinner the steak is overdone, the salad is badly mixed, and there is nothing for dessert except bread pudding. The waiter gets his wings in the soup or knocks over the gravy in your lap by an accidental sweep of his tail. When you play tennis with electric balls of fire you are always beaten by the other fellow, generally because he cheats by claiming thirty— hate when he is only fifteen-hate. If he reaches deuce you have no show whatever. Then old Satan has a bad habit of borrowing all your loose change and never repaying it. These are only a few of the many annoyances which a wicked gentle- man must expect to suffer in the sheol which is waiting for him. Of the hell prepared for Grubb everybody knows. He is pierced by a pitchfork and toasted before a bright fire. Then he is bathed in a sea of burning brimstone and flayed with a dull knife. His eyes are thrust out with sticks and his mus- cles torn apart by pincers. This programme is continued indefinitely. He don't like it. Mr. Fitz-Roy would like it better than sheol. It would at least provide excitement, and after a time a man might get used to it. It is petty annoy- ances which wear a man out, as he is unable to nerve him- self against them. Altogether, Grubb has the best of it. W. R. Benjamin. (3.) THE FENCE ACTS ON CLARE. comichooks. elu)