"Feminism," in the modern sense, as was pointed out in the previous volume, is in English, at any rate, a twentieth century word. Yet the movement was there long before the name was coined or imported, and in the period on which we now enter a notable change reveals itself in the spirit of _Punch's_ dream of womanhood. The change is all the more remarkable when we recall the fact that the paper was still written exclusively by men and appealed mainly to male readers. The first woman contributor with the pen--Miss Betham Edwards--did not appear until 1868. "_Mrs. Punch's_ Letters to her Daughter," however, cannot be said to strike a new note, being for the most part a replica of _Punch's_ own views, with a mild undercurrent of irony so carefully disguised as to be almost invisible. _Mrs. Punch_ disavows all association with committees or causes. She was "not even a novelist"--apparently a hit at Rhoda Broughton, who had recently swum into the ken of the astonished Mrs. Grundy, and whose works are obliquely disparaged under the transparent _aliases_ of "Unwisely but not too well," and "Cometh up as a Nettle." Mrs. Lynn Linton's tirades against the Girl of the Period had appeared in the _Saturday Review_ earlier in the year, and _Mrs. Punch_ follows mildly in the same path, rebuking the extravagances of fashion; monstrous chignons, false and dyed hair, the use of Madame Rachel's cosmetics, and a resort to audacious _décolletage_. In her advice on the choice and management of husbands _Mrs. Punch_ is purely ironic. There is no serious effort to dislodge men from their entrenched positions as lords of creation. The furthest she goes is in a retort on the Young Man of the Period, whom she boldly pronounces an ass, whether he is of the tame cat order; or an "æsthetic" with a genius for disparaging everybody, especially his elders; or a mere conceited ass; or a clerical despot to whom woman is a ministering slave. Finally she deplores the precocity of the Young Children of the Period. Indeed, there weren't any young children at all, only richly-dressed supercilious little men and women; worldly-wise little satirists and snobs. [Illustration: TOO BAD PROFESSOR PUMPER: "May I ask, Miss Blank, why you are making those little pellets?" MISS B.: "Well, I don't know. It is a habit I have. I always make bread pills when I feel bored at dinner!"] [Sidenote: _A Change of Type_]