persons, as far as possible, agreeable to those with whom they are
associated. If possible, dress yourself fine where others are fine, and
plain where the apparel of others is plain. A man who finds himself
badly dressed amongst well-dressed people feels awkward and ill at ease.
He stammers and is confused in speech. He makes all manner of ridiculous
blunders, and it is well-nigh impossible for him to assume that air of
simple dignity which should characterize the bearing of a gentleman. But
it should be remembered that this feeling should have nothing to do with
dress proper; it is only when there is a manifest impropriety in the
mode of dress. The dress should suit the time and the occasion. The man
in his workshop or field, or the lady, busied with the household duties,
should have no occasion to feel ill at ease, because not so finely
dressed as the casual caller. Such a feeling should be instantly
checked, since it is born of pride, not of an innate desire to please
others.
The love of beauty and refinement belongs to every true woman. She ought
to desire in moderation pretty dresses, and delight in beautiful colors
and graceful fabrics. She ought to take a certain, not too expensive,
pride, in herself, and be solicitous to have all belonging to her well
chosen and in good style. Many fail to understand the true object and
importance of this sentiment. Let no woman suppose that any man, much
less her husband, is indifferent to her appearance. But women should
constantly beware lest what was meant as a means of influence becomes a
ruling passion. And let it be ever remembered that beauty of dress does
not reside in the material; that time, place, and circumstances are all
to be considered; that they may look far more bewitching in the eyes of
those whom they are desirous to please when clad in neat calico than if
robed in silks and satins. And depend upon it that the husband, wearied
with his day's work, had far rather find the wife neatly clad, doing or
superintending household duties, than, when dressed in the height of
fashion, she greets him to a home that sadly needs an efficient, willing
housekeeper.
Through dress the mind may be read, as through the delicate tissue the
lettered page. Women are more like flowers than we think. In their dress
and adornments they express their natures, as the flowers in their
petals and colors. Some women are like the modest daisies and
violets—they never look or feel better than when dressed in a morning
wrapper. When women are free to dress as they like, uncontrolled by
others and not limited by their circumstances, they do not fail to
express their true characters. A modest woman will dress modestly; a
really refined and intelligent woman will bear the marks of careful
selections and faultless taste.
It is to be feared that many, both ladies and gentlemen, fail to
recognize the beauty which always accompanies simplicity. The stern
simplicity of the classic taste is seen in the statues and pictures of
the old masters. In Athens the ladies were not gaudily, but simply
arrayed, and we doubt whether any ladies have ever excited more
admiration. Female loveliness never appears to so good advantage as when
set off by simplicity of dress. Tinselries may serve to give effect on
the stage or upon the ball-room floor, but in daily life there is no
substitute for the charm of simplicity. A vulgar taste is not to be
disguised by gold and diamonds. The absence of a true taste and
refinement of delicacy can not be compensated by the possession of the
most princely trousseau. Mind measures gold, but gold can not measure
mind. Those who think that in order to dress well it is necessary to
dress extravagantly or gaudily make a great mistake. Elegance of dress
does not depend upon expense. A lady might wear the costliest silks that
Italy could produce, adorn herself with laces from Brussels which years
of patient toil are required to fabricate; she might carry the jewels of
an Eastern princess around her neck and upon her wrists and fingers, yet
still in appearance be essentially vulgar. These are as nothing without
grace, without adaptation, without an harmonious development of colors,
without the exercise of discrimination and good taste.
God has implanted in the minds of all, but especially in the female
breast, the love of beauty, and one way that this feeling finds
expression is in the matter of dress and personal adornment. We think
that it is the duty of all to clothe themselves in that style of dress
which most becomes them, provided that it does not conflict with
hygienic rules, and is warranted by their circumstances. It is their
duty, since when in choice personal adornment they have a dignity and
sense of personal elevation which they do not experience when in uncouth
attire. Pride, of course, often enters into fine dressing, and many
women are fond of flaunting their fine feathers in people's eyes; but a
great majority love handsome dressing in obedience to an instinct of
refinement, in consequence of that sense of personal purity which
accompanies the wearing of choice apparel.
To advise a young lady to dress herself with any serious departure from
the prevailing fashion of her day and class is to advise her to incur a
penalty which may very probably be the wreck of her whole life's
happiness. But it is only the fault of public opinion that any penalties
at all follow innovations in themselves sensible and modest. To train
this public opinion by degrees to bear with more variation of costume,
and especially to insist upon the principle of fitness as the first
requisite of beauty, should be the aim of all sensible women. Nothing
can be in worse taste than for sensible women to wear clothes by which
their natural movements are impeded, and their purposes, of whatever
sort, thwarted by their habiliments.
The styles of dress are so many and varied that it would be a vain, as
well as useless, attempt to classify them. There is one principle
running through all which every woman should carefully consider. Are
your modes of dress in accordance with the rules of hygiene? This
question you ought carefully to consider, ever remembering that nature
will allow none of her laws to be violated in the name of fashion with
impunity, and that every style of dress that does not conform to the
plainest of nature's teaching should be frowned down upon by all
sensible people.
Dress, to be in perfect taste, need not be costly. It is to be regretted
that in this age too much attention is paid to dress by those who have
neither the excuse of ample means nor of social culture. The wife of a
poorly paid clerk or of a young man just starting in business aims at
dressing as stylishly as does the wealthiest among her acquaintances.
Consistency in regard to station and fortune is the first matter to be
considered. A woman of good sense will not wish to expend in unnecessary
extravagance money wrung from an anxious husband; or, if her husband be
a man of fortune, she will not even then encroach upon her allowance. In
the early years of married life, when the income is moderate, it should
be the pride of a woman to see how little she can spend upon her dress
and yet present that tasteful and creditable appearance which is
desirable.
The dress of a gentleman never appears more creditable than when
characterized by simplicity. A gentleman's taste in dress is shown in
the avoidance of all extravagance. A man of wit may sometimes be a
coxcomb, but a man of judgment and sense never can be. A beau dressed
out is like a cinnamon tree—the bark is worth more than the body. A
dandy is said to be the mercer's friend, the tailor's fool, and his own
foe. There are a thousand fops made by art for one fool made by nature.
To judge from the actions of many of our young men one would suppose
that dress was their highest aim in life. Elegance of attire is, indeed,
well, and, when suitable to the surroundings, bespeaks the gentleman.
But men of sterling worth and character are apt to have a feeling of
contempt for the one who, by his faultless attire and spruce manner,
conclusively shows that he is actuated by a dandy's view of life. A coat
that has the mark of use upon it is a recommendation to people of sense,
and a hat with too much nap and too high a luster a derogatory
circumstance. The best coats in our streets are worn on the backs of
penniless fops, broken-down merchants, clerks with pitiful salaries, and
men that do not pay up.
Dandies and fops are like a body without soul, powder without ball,
lightning without thunderbolt, paint on sand. There is much of this in
the world. We see it exemplified in every thing considered valuable. The
counterfeiter gives the show of gold to his base coin, and the show of
value to his lying bank note. The thief hangs out the appearance of
honesty in his face, and the liar is thunderstruck if any body suspects
him of equivocation. The bankrupt carries about with him the appearance
of wealth. The fop puts on the masquerade of dignity and importance. The
poor belle, whose mother washes to buy her plumes, outshines the peeress
of the court. Many a table steams with costly viands for which the last
cent was paid; and many a coat, sleek and black, is worn on the street
on which the tailor has a moral mortgage.
In the matter of dress, then, when we sum it all up, we find that the
love of dress is inherent in all true men and women, and that it would
be as unwise as it would be useless to strive against it; that, while no
man or woman should allow themselves to become a slave to dress and
fashion, still it is no less a duty than it is a privilege to cultivate
this love of adornment, ever keeping it within due bounds, remembering
that outward adornment should be but secondary to the adornment of the
soul with all noble and great qualities.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: GENTLENESS.]
[Illustration]
We may admire proofs of hardiness and assurance, but we involuntarily
attach ourselves to simplicity and gentleness. Gentleness is like the
silent influence of light, which gives color to all nature. It is far
more powerful than loudness or force, and far more beautiful. It pushes
its way silently and persistently, like the tiniest daffodil in Spring,
which raises the clod and thrusts it aside by the simple persistence of
growing.
It is to be feared that in this stirring age, when we enumerate the
elements of success, that we do not lay stress enough on the milder
virtues of simplicity and gentleness. While fond of applauding the
hardier virtues of energy, self-reliance, perseverance, and others of a
similar nature, we are in danger of losing sight of the fact that
ofttimes an exhibition of gentleness and courtesy is not only extremely
pleasing in itself, but is not infrequently one of the most expeditious
and efficacious modes of advancing present interests.
It is singular what power gentleness and courtesy bestows on him who
practices them. The most boisterous winds only cause the traveler to
wrap his cloak the closer to him, while the gentle rays of the sun
speedily induce him to discard it. And thus it is with many of the
pursuits of life, where sheer force of intellect or intensity of
application would ofttimes end only in a failure of plans and purposes,
gentleness, by its silent but powerful influence, will not only excite a
feeling of good will in the minds of others, but as oil removes friction
from a machine and causes it to move smoothly, so will gentleness remove
apparently insurmountable objects from the pathway of our success.
Gentleness belongs to virtue, and is to be carefully distinguished from
the spirit of cowardice or the fawning assents of sycophants. It removes
no just right from fear; it gives no important truth to flattery; it is,
indeed, not only consistent with a firm mind, but it necessarily
requires a manly spirit and a fixed principle in order to give it any
real value. An able man shows his spirit by gentle words but resolute
actions. How often experience convinces us that a bold and brazen
loudness of tones and roughness of manner cover only a vacillating
spirit and irresolute actions! And on the other hand, do not history and
observation show that quietness and gentleness ofttimes mark the most
determined of actions? The rarest bravery of all in the world is found
actively engaged accompanied by an exhibition of gentleness. And ought
we not so to expect it? The person moved by a spirit of gentleness
throws all the energy of his nature into action. It is not allowed to
waste in boisterousness, but is guided and directed in the most
appropriate channels by an understanding calm and collected.
In the captain of a canal-boat we generally expect gruffness of manner,
loudness of tones, and a general lack of refinement, dignity, and
gentleness; but in the commander of an ocean steamer we shall always
find the quietness, gentleness, and dignity that we all recognize as
such a proper accompaniment of power. So true it is that gentleness of
manner is the most appropriate and general expression of true greatness
and worth that we use the expression "a gentle man" to express the
highest type of worth in man.
In the mechanical world do we not always find that the greater the
exhibition of power the steadier and quieter the movement becomes? It is
the rickety engine of but few horse-powers that goes with a fizz and a
clatter, while the massive engine that supplies the motive power for
acres of machinery goes almost noiselessly; and the sublimest exhibition
of power in the universe—the movement of the heavenly bodies—proceeds
in absolute quiet. We observe the same effect in the moral world; the
master minds who have moved kingdoms and swayed the thoughts of millions
are uniformly gentle and dignified in their bearings. The loud-tongued
and clatter-brained fanatics merely cause a movement in their immediate
vicinity.
There is a magic power in gentle words, the potency of which but few
natures are so icy as to wholly resist. Would you have your home a
cheerful, hallowed spot, within which may be found that happiness and
peace which the world denies to its votaries? Let not loud, harsh words
be uttered within its walls. Let only gentle, quiet actions there be
found. Speak gently to the wearied husband, who, with anxious brow,
returns from the perplexities of his daily avocations; and let him, in
his turn, speak gently to the care-worn woman and wife, who, amid her
never-ending round of little duties, finds rest and encouragement in the
sympathy of him she loves. Speak gently to the wayward child. A pleasant
smile and a word of kindness will often restore good humor and
playfulness. Human nature is the same with it. It has its joys and
sorrows as well as those of mature growth, and its little heart will
quickly yield to the power of gentle, loving kindness.
Hearts of children are, after all, much like flowers; they remain open
to the softly falling dew, but shut up in the violent downfalls of rain.
Therefore, when you have occasion to rebuke children, be careful to do
it with manifest kindness and gentleness. The effect will be
incalculably better. Speak gently to the dependent who lightens your
daily toil; kind words insure respect and affection, while the angry
rebuke provokes impertinence and dislike. Speak gently to the aged ones;
many are the trials through which they have passed, and now, in a little
while, they will be missed from their accustomed places—the spirit will
have passed to its rest. The remembrance of an unkind word will then
bring with it a bitter sting. Speak gently to the erring one; are we not
all weak and liable to err? Temptation, of which we can not judge, may
have surrounded him. Harshness will drive him on the sinful way;
gentleness may win him back to virtue.
True gentleness is founded on a sense of what we owe to Him who made us,
and to the common nature of which we all share. It arises from
reflection on our own failings and wants, and from just views of the
condition and duty of man. It is native feelings, heightened and
improved by principle. It is not deficient in a sense of true worth and
dignity, but it recognizes in all men the possessors of infinite
possibilities, even the possibilities of eternal life; and it treats
them as brethren. It summons to its highest and best form of expression
all that is noble in manhood, inspiring in purpose, grand in aim, and
walks proudly therein; humbly, yet with an air of conscious dignity;
quietly, yet with the insignia of power.
Since, then, true gentleness is thus significant of power, thus
potential for good, and is the high and distinctive test of a gentleman,
ought not all the young earnestly strive to learn that spirit of
self-control, and accustom themselves to speak and act gently at all
times, and, by so doing, to act as becomes a man and responsible being?
[Illustration]
[Illustration: MODESTY.]
[Illustration]
It has been remarked that the modest deportment of really wise men, when
contrasted to the assuming air of the vain and ignorant, may be compared
to the difference of wheat, which, while its ear is empty, holds up its
head proudly, but as soon as it is filled with grain bends modestly down
and withdraws from observation. Thus with true worth and merit: it is
uniformly modest in deportment. It is only the shallow-pated who strive
to attract attention by pretentious claims. The ocean depths are mute;
it is only along shallow shores that the roar of the breakers is heard.
It is not difficult to draw the line between self-reliance and modesty
on the one hand, and self-esteem and arrogant pretensions on the other.
True self-reliance does not call on all men to witness its exploits. It
displays itself in action. It may be reserved in deportment, but quietly
and modestly proceeds in the path that wisdom points out, with a steady
reliance on its own powers. Not so self-esteem. Its boast is that it is
sufficient for all things; which, to be sure, were not so bad, were it
not for the fact that, when put to the test by necessity, it so quickly
abandons its pretentious claims, and, forgetting to use its own powers,
is anxious only for the aid of others.
Modesty is a beautiful setting to the diamond of talents and genius. The
mark of the truly successful man is absence of pretensions. He talks in
only ordinary business style, avoids all brag, dresses plainly, promises
not at all, performs much, speaks monosyllables, hugs his fact. He calls
his employment by its lowest name, and so takes from evil tongues their
sharpest weapon. Who made more wide and sweeping discoveries, of more
far-reaching consequences, than Newton? Yet listen to his modest
confession: "I know not what the world may think of my labors, but to
myself it seems as though I had been but a child playing on the
seashore, now finding some pebble rather more polished, and now some
shell rather more agreeably variegated than another, while the immense
ocean of truth extended itself unexplored before me." Thus it is always
found that modesty accompanies great merit, and it has even been said
that merit without modesty is generally insolent in expression.
The greatest events in the world's history dawned with no more noise
than the morning star makes in rising. All great developments complete
themselves in the world, and modestly wait in silence, praising
themselves never, and announcing themselves not at all. If "honesty be
the best policy," we can not deny that modesty, as a matter of policy
even, hath a rare virtue. What so quickly commands our good wishes as
modesty struggling under discouragement? what our sympathy more than
modesty struck down by affliction? or what our respect and love more
than modesty ministering to the distresses of others? There is no surer
passport to the favors of others than modesty of deportment. It will
succeed where all else has failed to waken in the minds of others an
interest in our affairs. It is to merit as shades to figures in a
picture, giving it strength and beauty.
Modesty is not bashfulness, though the two are often confounded. The
bashfulness of timidity is constitutional, the bashfulness of credulity
is pitiable, the bashfulness of ignorance is disreputable, but the
bashfulness allied to modesty is a charm. There are two distinct sorts
of bashfulness. The one is awkwardness joined to pride, which, on a
further acquaintance with the world, will be converted into the pertness
of a coxcomb. The other is closely allied to modesty. It is a painful
consciousness of self, which is produced by our most delicate feelings,
and which the most extensive knowledge can not always remove. In
undermining and removing bashfulness, due regard is to be had to the
adjacent modesty, good nature, and humanity, as those who pull down
private houses adjoining imposing buildings are careful to prop up such
parts as are endangered by the removal.
Bashfulness in itself can not be admired. It completely distrusts its
own powers, whereas we have seen that a proper reliance on self is at
all times highly commendable. Bashfulness in man is never to be allowed
as a good quality, but a weakness, inasmuch as it suppresses his virtues
and hides them from the world, when, had he a mind to exert himself, he
might accomplish much good. We doubt not but there are many fine
intellects passing for naught by reason of their bashfulness.
Modesty is far different from reserve. Reserve partakes more of the
nature of sullen pride. It is haughty in demeanor, and hath not the
sweet, retiring disposition of modesty. A reserved man is in continual
conflict with the social part of his nature, and even grudges himself
the laugh into which he is sometimes betrayed. The modest man does not
refuse to perform his part socially. His only dread is that others may
think he is trying to center attention on himself. The really modest man
may be the most social of men. The reserved man thinks it is beneath him
to mingle with the mass of the people.
Modesty never counsels real merit to conceal itself. It never bids one
refuse to act when action is necessary, and the person is conscious that
his powers are adequate for the performance of the task. Nor when a good
deed is to be done should the modest man hesitate to come forward to do
it, providing he is capable of so doing. Modesty counsels none to be
backwards where duty points the way; but modesty strictly forbids that
when a good or meritorious action is done that the performer should
spread abroad the story of his doings. Leave that for others to do.
Modesty is the crowning ornament of womanly beauty, and the honor of
manly powers. It alike becomes every age, giving new grace to youthful
figures, and imparting a pleasing virtue to years. It softens the
asperities of poverty and is a beautiful setting for wealth and fortune.
It gives additional charms to the possessor of genius and talents, or
cunningly conceals the want of the same. It is the key that unlocks
alike the gate to success or the door of love and respect. It makes life
pleasant to the one who exercises the virtue, and charities bestowed by
its hand are worth far more to the recipient than their mere pecuniary
value.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: LOVE.]
"Life without love! Oh, it would be
A world without a sun—
Cold as the snow-capped mountain, dark
As myriad nights in one;
A barren scene, without one spot
Amidst the waste,
Without one blossom of delight,
Of feeling, or of taste!"
[Illustration]
Love in one form or another is the ruling element in life. It is the
primary source from whence springs all that possesses any real value to
man. It may be the love of dominion or power which, though utterly
selfish in its aims and methods, has been most marvelously overruled for
good in the world's history. It may be the love of knowledge, in the
pursuit of which lives have been lost and fortunes spent; but grand
secrets have been wrung from nature—secrets which have contributed much
for the advancement of human interests. But the love grander than any
other, before which all the other elements of civilization pale and
dwarf to utter insignificance, which is as powerful to-day as in the
morning of time, which will continue to rule until time is ended, is
that indefinable, indescribable, ever fresh and beautiful love betwixt
man and woman—that love which has the power to tame the savage's heart;
which finds man rough, uncultivated, and selfish; which leaves him a
refined and courteous gentleman; which transforms the timid, bashful
girl to the woman of matchless power for good.