Those who are anxious about the fate of Christmas, whether it is not
becoming too worldly and too expensive a holiday to be indulged in except
by the very poor, mark with pleasure any indications that the true spirit
of the day--brotherhood and self-abnegation and charity--is infusing
itself into modern society. The sentimental Christmas of thirty years ago
could not last; in time the manufactured jollity got to be more tedious
and a greater strain on the feelings than any misfortune happening to
one's neighbor. Even for a day it was very difficult to buzz about in the
cheery manner prescribed, and the reaction put human nature in a bad
light. Nor was it much better when gradually the day became one of Great
Expectations, and the sweet spirit of it was quenched in worry or soured
in disappointment. It began to take on the aspect of a great lottery, in
which one class expected to draw in reverse proportion to what it put in,
and another class knew that it would only reap as it had sowed. The day,
blessed in its origin, and meaningless if there is a grain of selfishness
in it, was thus likely to become a sort of Clearing-house of all
obligations and assume a commercial aspect that took the heart out of
it--like the enormous receptions for paying social debts which take the
place of the old-fashioned hospitality. Everybody knew, meantime, that
the spirit of good-will, the grace of universal sympathy, was really
growing in the world, and that it was only our awkwardness that, by
striving to cram it all for a year into twenty-four hours, made it seem a
little farcical. And everybody knows that when goodness becomes
fashionable, goodness is likely to suffer a little. A virtue overdone
falls on t'other side. And a holiday that takes on such proportions that
the Express companies and the Post-office cannot handle it is in danger
of a collapse. In consideration of these things, and because, as has been
pointed out year after year, Christmas is becoming a burden, the load of
which is looked forward to with apprehension--and back on with nervous
prostration--fear has been expressed that the dearest of all holidays in
Christian lands would have to go again under a sort of Puritan protest,
or into a retreat for rest and purification. We are enabled to announce
for the encouragement of the single-minded in this best of all days, at
the close of a year which it is best not to characterize, that those who
stand upon the social watch-towers in Europe and America begin to see a
light--or, it would be better to say, to perceive a spirit--in society
which is likely to change many things, and; among others, to work a
return of Christian simplicity. As might be expected in these days, the
spirit is exhibited in the sex which is first at the wedding and last in
the hospital ward. And as might have been expected, also, this spirit is
shown by the young woman of the period, in whose hands are the issues of
the future. If she preserve her present mind long enough, Christmas will
become a day that will satisfy every human being, for the purpose of the
young woman will pervade it. The tendency of the young woman generally to
simplicity, of the American young woman to a certain restraint (at least
when abroad), to a deference to her elders, and to tradition, has been
noted. The present phenomenon is quite beyond this, and more radical. It
is, one may venture to say, an attempt to conform the inner being to the
outward simplicity. If one could suspect the young woman of taking up any
line not original, it might be guessed that the present fashion (which is
bewildering the most worldly men with a new and irresistible fascination)
was set by the self-revelations of Marie Bashkirtseff. Very likely,
however, it was a new spirit in the world, of which Marie was the first
publishing example. Its note is self-analysis, searching, unsparing,
leaving no room for the deception of self or of the world. Its leading
feature is extreme candor. It is not enough to tell the truth (that has
been told before); but one must act and tell the whole truth. One does
not put on the shirt front and the standing collar and the knotted cravat
of the other sex as a mere form; it is an act of consecration, of rigid,
simple come-out-ness into the light of truth. This noble candor will
suffer no concealments. She would not have her lover even, still more the
general world of men, think she is better, or rather other, than she is.
Not that she would like to appear a man among men, far from that; but she
wishes to talk with candor and be talked to candidly, without taking
advantage of that false shelter of sex behind which women have been
accused of dodging. If she is nothing else, she is sincere, one might say
wantonly sincere. And this lucid, candid inner life is reflected in her
dress. This is not only simple in its form, in its lines; it is severe.
To go into the shop of a European modiste is almost to put one's self
into a truthful and candid frame of mind. Those leave frivolous ideas
behind who enter here. The 'modiste' will tell the philosopher that it is
now the fashion to be severe; in a word, it is 'fesch'. Nothing can go
beyond that. And it symbolizes the whole life, its self-examination,
earnestness, utmost candor in speech and conduct.
The statesman who is busy about his tariff and his reciprocity, and his
endeavor to raise money like potatoes, may little heed and much
undervalue this advent of candor into the world as a social force. But
the philosopher will make no such mistake. He knows that they who build
without woman build in vain, and that she is the great regenerator, as
she is the great destroyer. He knows too much to disregard the gravity of
any fashionable movement. He knows that there is no power on earth that
can prevent the return of the long skirt. And that if the young woman has
decided to be severe and candid and frank with herself and in her
intercourse with others, we must submit and thank God.
And what a gift to the world is this for the Christmas season! The
clear-eyed young woman of the future, always dear and often an anxiety,
will this year be an object of enthusiasm.