HOW TO GROW OLD.
"They shall still bring forth fruit in old age" (Psalm xcii. 14).
When I was a child a dear old lady, who had been asking questions about
my lessons, laid her gentle hand on my head and said, "I see you love
school, my child. 'Learn young, learn fair.'"
You, dear girl friends, will be at no loss to understand the teaching
of the proverb. It says, in few words, that those lessons which are
early imprinted on our minds are likely to have an abiding place in our
memories and a lasting influence over our lives.
There is one lesson amongst many which we ought to be constantly
learning from the time that we can understand anything. It is, how to
grow old.
Do I see some of you smiling at each other, as if old age were such
a far-away subject that it ought not to be introduced to my great
gathering of girls? Why, if I could have spoken to you as children, one
by one, I would have asked, "Are you learning how to grow old?"
You ought to be, for the moment you began to live you started on the
path that leads to old age. From that path none of us can turn aside
and, perhaps without thinking much of the inevitable ending, we pursue
our course thereon steadily and uninterruptedly. We may start on many
other paths--those of duty, work, mental culture, etc.--and we may
take up certain pursuits and relinquish them at our will, but the one
onward journey is continuous. We travel by night and by day. Sleeping
or waking, resting or working, we are ever progressing towards old age,
whether we live to reach it or not.
It is often said that every age has its special beauty, and yet I
daresay many of you have never dreamed of associating the idea of
beauty with old age. You are apt to claim it as the special prerogative
of youth. Yet I believe that old age may be--and I assert that it ought
to be in certain senses--the most beautiful of all, despite the white
hair, the tremulous hand, the feeble step which seeks support from the
strong arm of the young, and the wrinkles on brows that were once as
smooth and fair as the fairest amongst yours.
The young often shrink from the very thought of being old. One hears
the girl in her teens whisper to her companion, as she glances at a
third who is not out of her twenties, "She is getting to look quite old
already. She might be five-and-thirty."
The tone is half pitying, half disparaging, as if the object of the
remark were somehow in fault because a few more years had passed over
her young head than over the speaker's.
Listen again to words from the lips of a girl who is just "sweet
seventeen." (Alas that seventeen does not always deserve the
adjective!) She has just stigmatised a friend of thirty as "a cross old
thing." And for what? She has only been trying to bring her good common
sense and sound judgment to bear upon the other's wilfulness. She is
anxious to save her from doing a foolish thing on which her childish
will is stubbornly set and which is certain to be followed by remorse
and trouble.
"Sweet seventeen" purses her pretty lips and tosses her foolish head
whilst saying, "As if I were going to be ordered about by her! Cross
old thing!" And she goes on her wilful way and pays for it.
Still we must acknowledge that a dozen extra years do not always bring
proportionate wisdom, any more than does the seventeenth birthday
invariably carry sweetness in its train. We have to learn to grow old
in such wise that each year's passage means also progress in everything
that is best.
It seems very strange--does it not?--that whilst everyone desires long
life, so many dislike to look forward to old age in connection with
themselves. Or, if they do, it is not so much in a frank and natural
manner as in a secret and stealthy fashion. If they speak of it at
all, they speak as of something which may be near to others, but is
still far, far away from themselves. Such people would never tell you
that they are learning how to grow old--striving each day after some
knowledge which will tend towards the attainment of a really beautiful
and lovable old age.
The need for such a study is ignored by so many up to and beyond middle
age, that one wonders little at its being ignored by the young. Yet
other questions occupy their earnest attention in connection with
increasing years.
How to ward off the semblance of old age, for the reality cannot be
deferred. How to look young in spite of it. How to conceal the number
of the years that have passed over their heads. How best to utilise art
so as to simulate the complexion of youth and to hide the marks of time
on their features.
Time is readily given in order to solve such questions to the exclusion
of those higher lessons, attention to which would make old age the most
beautiful and lovely of all.
Girls, dear girls! you are generally keen observers of externals, and
especially so in matters of female dress and adornment. If one of you
has been at a social gathering, whether amongst humble workers or
leaders in society, what is usually the first question asked by sisters
or acquaintances on her return? Is it not about the dresses worn? You
inquire how such a one looked, or if another again wore a dress which
is too well known on account of its age. You want to hear all about
novelties in the fashioning of new garments, and whether they were of a
mode likely to be becoming to yourselves. It may be you give a little
laugh as you say that such a girl would be sure to look dowdy, or
inquire if the good taste of another was as conspicuous as usual.
I am inclined to doubt whether you were as anxious to know how your
friend was impressed by the words and conduct of those with whom she
had been associating, or whether she had, during this little season
of social enjoyment, received impressions likely to influence her for
good. We ought to be learners in every place, but not merely in regard
to externals.
Now I want to ask you a question. I have given you credit for being
keen observers. Tell me, can you imagine a picture more truly pitiable
and contemptible than that of a woman on whose face is the stamp of
age, but who imagines that she has succeeded in hiding it by paint and
powder?
One who hugs the thought that she has rendered her wrinkles invisible,
or that her dyed hair, with its tell-tale line of grey near the roots,
or the cunningly arranged golden hued substitute for whitened locks,
deceives anyone but herself? All such shams make the old look older
still. They add to the appearance of age instead of taking from it, and
they rob old age of much of the beauty which is as real as that which
pertains to the youth it tries to simulate. I am alluding to externals
first because everyone sees them.
I have no doubt that you have all discovered my liking for proverbial
expressions. My native county is rich in these pithy sayings which
convey so much meaning in few words. The subject of our present talk
brings to mind one of these proverbs, which was often quoted in my
hearing when I was a girl. I recall one occasion especially. A ruddy
farmer turned to look after an elderly woman who had just passed him.
She was girlishly dressed, and she strove to trip along in youthful
fashion, feeling evidently well satisfied with herself, and claiming
admiration by every gesture.
What had our countryman to say about her appearance? He jogged his
neighbour's elbow, and quoted the proverb, as he indicated the
retreating figure with a jerk of his thumb: "Old ewe dressed lamb
fashion."
"Aye," said his friend, "and it's no good. Age will show in spite of
paint and finery. She was turned twenty when I was twelve, and I'm
over fifty-three to-day. Why, deary me! There's always somebody that
remembers."
These added words were as true as the proverb itself. There is always
someone, amongst our many acquaintances and kinsfolk, who has a good
memory for dates, and who can refer to the number of Life's milestones
we have passed with unerring accuracy.
I asked you if there could be anything more pitiable and contemptible
than the sight of an elderly woman trying to defy time and age by such
means as I have named?
I will answer my own question, "Yes, there is. The sight of a girl
who, possessing youth, health, and the share of good looks and
attractiveness which must accompany these two things, is ever striving
to improve Nature's handiwork by the use of unnatural means." Believe
me, my dear girl friends, the sight of a young face disfigured by
artificial colouring and unnaturally whitened by powder, of blackened
eyebrows and eyelashes, together with similar shams, excites in my mind
a feeling of true motherly regret. I love girls too well to say hard
things or to speak of contempt for such practices; though they ought to
be contemptible in the eyes of all pure and right-minded girls.
One associates the use of them with small minds and natures whose chief
end and aim are to gratify personal vanity and attract admiration,
instead of striving to win respect by the exercise of far nobler
powers. Can any girl be so self-deceived as to think she will win
honest affection by such means? She may win it in spite of them, but
it will be because the one who gives it is able to discover something
better and more deserving of love beneath this miserable upper crust of
deception.
One is always ready to recognise, with gratitude, even a mistaken
attempt made by the young with a view of giving pleasure to others. But
I am sure that self-pleasing and the gratification of vanity are, in
nearly every case, the incentives to such displays as I have condemned.
In looking round me, I have been struck with the fact that some of the
girls who use paint, powder, and what are, I am informed, known under
the general name of "make-ups," are just those to whom Nature has been
specially liberal in the gift of beauty.
Beauty, when joined to vanity, has an insatiable longing to add to its
attractions. It is more than conscious of all that it has, but it is
never satisfied, because it craves to combine, in its own person, the
attractions of every style which is, from time to time, commended in
its hearing. Hence all these useless and foolish efforts to improve on
Nature's handiwork.
Do not misunderstand me so far as to think I condemn the use of many
little toilet accessories, which add greatly both to comfort and
health. It would be insulting to the good sense of my girls, if I were
to specify what things are lawful and useful, and what are contemptible
and to be avoided.
You would smile, in pitying fashion, at the sight of an old lady, whose
grey locks having become too scanty to cover her head, had thought fit
to crown her wrinkled face with a wig and fringe of golden hair. But if
the addition matched what remained of her own growth, I hope you would
be glad to think that art had done something on behalf of comfort and
comeliness for old age, as well as for youth. Depend on it the natural
colour of your hair is that which agrees best with your features and
complexion, and if there is anything really wrong with the latter, it
will be better for you to consult your doctor than a manufacturer of
cosmetics.
I am glad to think I have not known many girls whose vanity led them to
spoil their appearance in the manner I hope you join me in condemning,
but we have all seen plenty of such. I picture two, however, both
rather exceptionally attractive. One had beautiful, glossy, dark hair,
with eyes to match, and a complexion like a blush rose.
I did not see her for some time, and when we met I was horrified at
the change. A mop of yellow, frizzled hair surmounted a face whence
the blush-rose tint had fled, or been hidden under glaringly false red
and white. All the dainty charm of the face was gone, and I am fain to
confess that I went a little out of my way to avoid a closer meeting
with my changed acquaintance. Happily I can tell of a pleasant sequel
in this case. Some good influence has been brought to bear, or perhaps
the girl's innate good sense has overcome her vanity, and she has found
out that such shams are unworthy of a self-respecting girl.
She has given fair play to Nature, and that just in time to save the
blush-rose complexion from ruin, and to be once more her bonny self.
The second girl possessed remarkable beauty especially of complexion,
and her vanity and greed of admiration were in proportion to it. These
impelled her to be ever experimenting on herself to produce greater
perfection, with the result that whilst still a girl she looked many
years older than her age, and I hear, though I do not see her now, that
she is daily becoming less attractive, though no less vain than of old.
Quite apart from the harm done to personal appearance by these foolish
practices, but of far greater importance, is the moral injury they
cause. One might call the exhibition of paint an acted falsehood,
because it is an attempt to make ourselves appear what we are not.
But such devices are too transparent to deceive. If begun, they become
more and more injurious and difficult to discontinue, and those who
practise them live in an atmosphere of anxiety and disappointment.
Age comes, despite all efforts to delay its progress, and it leaves
footprints which baffle art to disguise or obliterate.
Doubtless you have all heard this expression used in relation to
someone you know--"She knows how to grow old gracefully." You
understand it to picture one who accepts age as the natural and
inevitable sequence of youth; who is above the paltry vanity which
would hide it--or, rather, try to hide it--yet who neglects nothing
which can help to make it externally attractive, and especially to the
young. For, if age is to have its full legitimate influence over youth,
it must be beautiful in itself, both without and within.
I will not ask you, my dear ones, to look again at that pitiable
picture of Vanity battling with Age, despite the certainty of defeat
and disappointment. But be assured of this--that the girl who starts on
the same lines will reach the same goal; but it will not be that of a
beautiful and lovable old age.
Do not imagine that I undervalue externals. I would have you all be
habitually careful about them. Let your complexion be kept at its best
by scrupulous cleanliness. If your hair is beautiful and abundant, take
pains to dress it in the fashion that best sets off such good looks as
you possess. If you are less favoured in this respect, give the more
care and pains so as to make the best of what you have.
Exercise good taste in your dress, whilst carefully keeping your
expenditure within your means. The girl who dresses quietly and
becomingly will not make herself conspicuous in later years by the use
of glaring colours or fantastic garments.
Try to be graceful and quiet in your movements, and scrupulous
in avoiding all little ways and habits likely to be disturbing,
unpleasant, or offensive to others. And do not be offended if a
well-meaning friend ventures to point out a tendency to any growing
habit of the kind, knowing that if once established it will be almost
impossible for you to overcome it. Bear in mind that such a warning can
be only intended for your benefit and to help you on your way towards
growing old gracefully.
Study to modulate your voices so that the sound of them may fall
pleasantly, even musically, on the ear. Shrill, harsh, and loud
youthful voices become something too terrible when they accompany age.
I wonder if any of you have heard our dear Queen speak? I regret to say
that I have not, but friends have told me that they never heard a voice
which equalled hers for its melodious tone, perfect clearness, and
faultless enunciation.
Try to avoid affectation in gesture and movement, and any form of
facial contortion. Habit makes all these painful to witness, and age
exaggerates them. Sometimes a habit of knitting the brows is contracted
early in life, with the result that the forehead is furrowed and a
forbidding expression given to the face which permanently spoils it.
Age intensifies what is forbidding and disagreeable, but shows to the
greatest advantage all that is most lastingly attractive in us, just as
the flower fulfils the promise of the bud.
In this lesson on "How to grow old" I have confined myself to
externals. It is time for us to part, but when we meet again we will
study the subject from the highest standpoint.
Before then a new year will have dawned on us. Let me suggest as a
fitting motto for it, "I will go in the strength of the Lord God." May
it prove a very happy one to you all.
(_To be continued._)
"SISTER WARWICK": A STORY OF INFLUENCE.
BY H. MARY WILSON, Author of "In Warwick Ward," "In Monmouth Ward,"
"Miss Elsie," etc.