DRESS.

How far a man's clothes are or are not a part of himself, is more than I

would take on myself to decide, without farther inquiry; though I lean

altogether to the affirmative. The inhabitants of the South Sea Islands

were astonished and alarmed when they, first saw the Europeans strip.

Yet they would have been much more so, could they have entered into the

notions prevalent in the civilized world on the subject of a wardrobe;

could they have understood how much virtue lies inherent in a superfine

broad cloth, how much respectability in a gilt button, how much sense in

the tie of a cravat, how much amiability in the cut of a sleeve, how much

merit of every sort in a Stultz and a Hoby. There are who pretend, and

that with some plausibilty, that these things are but typical; that taste

in dress is but the outward and visible sign of the frequentation of good

company; and that propriety of exterior is but evidence of a general sense

of the fitness of things. Yet if this were really the case, if there were

nothing intrinsic in the relation of the clothes to the wearer, how could

a good coat at once render a pickpocket respectable; or a clean shirt pass

current, as it does, with police magistrates for a clean conscience. In

England, a handsome _toggery_ is a better defensive armour, than "helm and

hauberk's twisted mail." While the seams are perfect, and the elbows do

not appear through the cloth, the law cannot penetrate it. A gentleman,

(that is to say, a man who can pay his tailor's bill,) is above suspicion;

and benefit of clergy is nothing to the privilege and virtue of a handsome

exterior. That the skin is nearer than the shirt, is a most false and

mistaken idea. The smoothest skin in Christendom would not weigh with a

jury like a cambric ruffle; and moreover, there is not a poor devil in

town striving to keep up appearances in spite of fortune, who would not

far rather tear his flesh than his unmentionables; which can only arise

from their being so much more important a part of himself.--_New Monthly

Magazine_.

* * * * *

The French have a kind of irritable jealousy towards the English, which

makes them forget their general politeness. Give them but a civil word,

make the least advance, and they receive you with open arms; but show them

that cold reserve with which an Englishman generally treats all strangers,

and every Frenchman's hand is on his sword.--_New Monthly Magazine_.

* * * * *

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 392, October 3, 1829 · 第 38 / 49 题