disruption of the engagement from some unexpected cause ensue, it is obvious that any such premature assumption would lead to very embarrassing results. In short, his conduct should be such as to win for himself the esteem and affection of all the family, and dispose them ever to welcome and desire his presence, rather than regard him as an intruder.
_Conduct of the Lady on Retiring from her Engagement_.
Should this step unhappily be found necessary on the lady’s part, the truth should be spoken, and the reasons frankly given: there must be no room left for the suspicion of its having originated in caprice or injustice. The case should be so put that the gentleman himself must see and acknowledge the justice of the painful decision arrived at. Incompatible habits, ungentlemanly actions, anything tending to diminish that respect for the lover which should be felt for the husband; inconstancy, ill-governed temper–all which, not to mention other obvious objections–are to be considered as sufficient reasons for terminating an engagement. The communication should be made as tenderly as possible: room may be left in mere venial cases for reformation; but all that is done must be so managed that not the slightest shadow of fickleness or want of faith may rest upon the character of the lady. It must be remembered, however, that the termination of an engagement by a lady has the privilege of passing unchallenged,–a lady not being _bound_ to declare any other reason than her will. Nevertheless she owes it to her own reputation that her decision should rest on a sufficient foundation, and be unmistakably pronounced.
_Conduct of the Gentleman on Retiring from his Engagement_.
We hardly know how to approach this portion of our subject. The reasons must be strong indeed that can sufficiently justify a man, placed in the position of an accepted suitor, in severing the ties by which he has bound himself to a lady with the avowed intention of making her his wife. His reasons for breaking off his engagement must be such as will not merely satisfy his own conscience, but will justify him in the eyes of the world. If the fault be on the lady’s side, great reserve and delicacy will be observed by any man of honour. If, on the other hand, the imperative force of circumstances, such as loss of fortune, or some other unexpected calamity to himself, may be the cause, then must the reason be clearly and fully explained, in such a manner as to soothe the painful feelings which such a result must necessarily occasion to the lady and her friends. It is scarcely necessary to point out the necessity for observing great caution in all that relates to the antecedents of an engagement that has been broken off; especially the return on either side of presents and of all letters that have passed.
This last allusion brings us to the consideration of
_Correspondence_.
Letter-writing is one great test of ability and cultivation, as respects both sexes. The imperfections of education may be to some extent concealed or glossed over in conversation, but cannot fail to stand out conspicuously in a letter. An ill-written letter infallibly betrays the vulgarity and ignorance indicative of a mean social position.
But there is something more to be guarded against than even bad writing and worse spelling in a correspondence: _saying too much_–writing that kind of matter which will not bear to be read by other eyes than those for which it was originally intended. That this is too frequently done is amply proved by the love letters often read in a court of law, the most affecting passages from which occasion “roars of laughter” and the derisive comments of merry-making counsel. Occurrences of this kind prove how frequently letters are not returned or burnt when an affair of the heart is broken off. Correspondence between lovers should at all events be tempered with discretion; and, on the lady’s part particularly, her affectionate expressions should not degenerate into a silly style of fondness.
It is as well to remark here, that in correspondence between a couple not actually engaged, the use of Christian names in addressing each other should be avoided.
_Demeanour of the Suitor during Courtship_.
The manners of a gentleman are ever characterized by urbanity and a becoming consideration for the feelings and wishes of others, and by a readiness to practise self-denial. But the very nature of courtship requires the fullest exercise of these excellent qualities on his part. The lover should carefully accommodate his tone and bearing, whether cheerful or serious, to the mood for the time of his lady-love, whose slightest wish must be his law. In his assiduities to her he must allow of no stint; though hindered by time, distance, or fatigue, he must strive to make his professional and social duties bend to his homage at the shrine of love. All this can be done, moreover, by a man of excellent sense with perfect propriety. Indeed, the world will not only commend him for such devoted gallantry, but will be pretty sure to censure him for any short-coming in his performance of such devoirs.
It is, perhaps, needless to observe that at such a period a gentleman should be scrupulously neat, without appearing particular, in his attire. We shall not attempt to prescribe what he should wear, as that must, of course, depend on the times of the day when his visits are paid, and other circumstances, such as meeting a party of friends, going to the theatre, &c., with the lady.
_Should a Courtship be Short or Long_?
The answer to this question must depend on the previous acquaintanceship, connection, or relationship of the parties, as well as on their present circumstances, and the position of their parents. In case of relationship or old acquaintanceship subsisting between the families, when the courtship, declaration, and engagement have followed each other rapidly, a short wooing is preferable to a long one, should other circumstances not create an obstacle. Indeed, as a general rule, we are disposed strongly to recommend a short courtship. A man is never well settled in the saddle of his fortunes until he be married. He wants spring, purpose, and aim; and, above all, he wants a _home_ as the centre of his efforts. Some portion of inconvenience, therefore, may be risked to obtain this; in fact, it often occurs that by waiting too long the freshness of life is worn off, and that the generous glow of early feelings becomes tamed down to lukewarmness by a too prudent delaying; while a slight sacrifice of ambition or self-indulgence on the part of the gentleman, and a little descent from pride of station on the lady’s side, might have ensured years of satisfied love and happy wedded life.
On the other hand, we would recommend a long courtship as advisable when–the friends on both sides favouring the match–it happens that the fortune of neither party will prudently allow an immediate marriage. The gentleman, we will suppose, has his way to make in his profession or business, and is desirous not to involve the object of his affection in the distressing inconvenience, if not the misery, of straitened means. He reflects that for a lady it is an actual degradation, however love may ennoble the motive of her submission, to descend from her former footing in society. He feels, therefore, that this risk ought not to be incurred. For, although the noble and loving spirit of a wife might enable her to bear up cheerfully against misfortune, and by her endearments soothe the broken spirit of her husband; yet the lover who would wilfully, at the outset of wedded life, expose his devoted helpmate to the ordeal of poverty, would be deservedly scouted as selfish and unworthy. These, then, are among the circumstances which warrant a lengthened engagement, and it should be the endeavour of the lady’s friends to approve such cautious delay, and do all they can to assist the lover in his efforts to abridge it. The lady’s father should regard the lover in the light of another son added to his family, and spare no pains to promote his interests in life, while the lady’s mother should do everything in her power, by those small attentions which a mother understands so well, to make the protracted engagement agreeable to him, and as endurable as possible to her daughter.
* * * * *
IV.–PRELIMINARY ETIQUETTE OF A WEDDING.
Whether the term of courtship may have been long or short–according to the requirements of the case–the time will at last arrive for
_Fixing the Day_.
While it is the gentleman’s province to press for the earliest possible opportunity, it is the lady’s privilege to name the happy day; not but that the bridegroom-elect must, after all, issue the fiat, for he has much to consider and prepare for beforehand: for instance, to settle where it will be most convenient to spend the honeymoon–a point which must depend on the season of the year, on his own vocation, and other circumstances. At this advanced state of affairs, we must not overlook the important question of
_Legal Settlements_.
These are matters that must be attended to where there is property on either side; and it behoves the intending bridegroom to take care there is no unnecessary delay in completing them. An occasional morning call in one of the Inns of Court at this period is often found to be necessary to hasten the usually sluggish pace of the legal fraternity. On the business part of this matter it is not the province of our work to dilate; but we may be permitted to suggest that two-thirds, or at least one-half, of the lady’s property should be settled on herself and offspring; and that where the bridegroom has no property wherewith to endow his wife, and has solely to rely on his professional prospects, it should be made a _sine qua non_ that he should insure his life in her favour previously to marriage.
_How to be Married_.
By this time the gentleman will have made up his mind _in what form_ he will be married–a question, the solution of which, however, must chiefly depend on his means and position in life. He has his choice whether he will be married by BANNS, by LICENCE, by SPECIAL LICENCE, or before the Registrar; but woe betide the unlucky wight who should venture to suggest the last method to a young lady or her parents!
_Marriage by Banns_.
For this purpose, notice must be given to the clerk of the parish or of the district church. The names of the two parties must be written down in full, with their conditions, and the parishes in which they reside–as, “Between A B, of the parish of St. George, bachelor (or widower, as the case may be), and C D, of the parish of St. George, spinster (or widow, as the case may be).” No mention of either the lady’s or gentleman’s age is required. Where the lady and gentleman are of different parishes, the banns must be published in each, and a certificate of their publication in the one furnished to the clergyman who may marry the parties in the church of the other parish.
It seems singular, albeit it is the fact, that no evidence of consent by either party is necessary to this “putting up of the banns,” as is it denominated; indeed, the publication of the banns is not unfrequently the first rural declaration of attachment, so that the blushing village maiden sometimes finds herself announced as a bride-elect before she has received any actual declaration. The clerk receives his fee of two shillings and makes no further inquiries; nay, more, is prepared, if required, to provide the necessary fathers on each side, in the respectable persons of himself and the sexton–the venerable pew-opener being also ready, on a pinch, to “perform” the part of bridesmaid.
The banns must be publicly read on three successive Sundays in the church, after the last of which, if they so choose, the happy pair may, on the Monday following, be “made one.” It is usual to give one day’s previous notice to the clerk; but this is not legally necessary, it being the care of the Church, as well as the policy of the Law, to throw as few impediments as possible in the way of marriage, of which the one main fact of a consent to live together, declared publicly before an assemblage of relatives, friends, and neighbours (and afterwards, as it were by legal deduction, before witnesses), is the essential and constituent element. Marriage by banns, except in the country districts, is usually confined to the humbler classes of society. This is to be regretted, inasmuch as it is a more deliberate and solemn declaration, and leaves the ceremony more free from the imputation of suddenness, contrivance, or fraud, than any other form. A marriage by banns, it is understood, can never be set aside by the after discovery of deception or concealment as respects residence, and even names, on either side. The fees of a marriage by banns vary from _11s. 6d._ to _13s. 6d._ and _15s. 6d._, according to the parish or district wherein the marriage may take place.
_Hours in which Marriages may be Celebrated_.
All marriages at church must be celebrated within canonical hours–that is, between the hours of eight and twelve, except in the case of special licence, when the marriage may be celebrated at any hour, or at any “meet and proper place.”
_Marriage by Special Licence_.
By the Statute of 23rd Henry VIII., the Archbishop of Canterbury has power to grant special licences; but in a certain sense these are limited. His Grace restricts his authority to Peers and Peeresses in their own right, to their sons and daughters, to Dowager Peeresses, to Privy Councillors, to Judges of the Courts at Westminster, to Baronets and Knights, and to Members of Parliament; and, by an order of a former Prelate, to no other person is a special licence to be given, unless they allege very strong and weighty reasons for such indulgence, arising from particular circumstances of the case, the truth of which must be proved to the satisfaction of the Archbishop.
The application for a special licence is to be made to his Grace through the proctor of the parties, who, having first ascertained names and particulars, will wait upon his Grace for his fiat.
The expense of a special licence is about twenty-eight or thirty guineas, whereas that of an ordinary licence is but two guineas and a half; or three guineas where the gentleman or lady, or both, are minors.
_Marriage by Licence_.
An ordinary marriage licence is to be obtained at the Faculty Registry, or Vicar-General’s Office, or Diocesan Registry Office of the Archbishops or Bishops, either in the country, or at Doctors’ Commons, or by applying to a proctor. A licence from Doctors’ Commons, unlike others, however, is available throughout the whole of England.
The gentleman or lady (for either may attend), before applying for an ordinary marriage licence, should ascertain in what parish or district they are both residing–the church of such parish or district being the church in which the marriage should be celebrated; and either the gentleman or lady must have had his or her usual abode therein fifteen days before application is made for the licence, as the following form, to be made on oath, sets forth:–
… _Proctor_. LICENCE, Dated 187_.
“VICAR-GENERAL’S OFFICE.” 187_.
APPEARED PERSONALLY, _A B_, of the parish or district of —-, in the county of —-, a bachelor, of the age of 21 years and upwards, and prayed a Licence for the solemnisation of matrimony in the parish or district church of —-, between him and _C D_, of the district of —-, in the county of —-, a spinster, of the age of 21 years or upwards, and made oath, that he believeth that there is no impediment of kindred or alliance, or of any other lawful cause, nor any suit commenced in any Ecclesiastical Court, to bar or hinder the proceeding of the said matrimony, according to the tenor of such Licence. And he further made oath, that he, the said _A B_ or _C D_, hath had his [or her] usual place of abode within the said parish or district of —-, for the space of fifteen days last past.
SWORN before me,
[_Here the document must be signed by the Vicar-General, or a Surrogate appointed by him_.]
This affidavit having been completed, the licence is then made out. It runs thus:–
ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL, by Divine Providence Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of all England, and Metropolitan, To our well beloved in Christ, _A B_, of ____, and _C D_, of ____, Grace and Health.–WHEREAS ye are, as it is alleged, resolved to proceed to the solemnisation of true and lawful matrimony, and that you greatly desire that the same may be solemnised in the face of the Church: We, being willing that these your honest desires may the more speedily obtain a due effect, and to the end therefore that this marriage may be publicly and lawfully solemnised in the church of ____, by the Rector, Vicar, or Curate thereof, without the publication or proclamation of the banns of matrimony, provided there shall appear no impediment of kindred or alliance, or of any other lawful cause, nor any suit commenced in any Ecclesiastical Court, to bar or hinder the proceeding of the said matrimony, according to the tenor of this Licence; And likewise, That the celebration of this marriage be had and done publicly in the aforesaid ____ church, between the hours of eight and twelve in the forenoon; We, for lawful causes, graciously grant this our LICENCE AND FACULTY as well to you the parties contracting, as to the Rector, Vicar, Curate, or Minister of ____, the aforesaid ____, who is designed to solemnise the marriage between you, in the manner and form above specified, according to the rites of the Book of Common Prayer, set forth for that purpose by the authority of Parliament.
Given under the seal of our VICAR-GENERAL, this day of ____, in the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and ____, and in the ____ year of our translation.
The licence remains in force for three months only; and the copy received by the person applying for it is left in the hands of the clergyman who marries the parties, it being his authority for so doing. In case either party is a minor, the age must be stated, and the consent of the parents or guardians authorised to give such consent must be sworn to by the gentleman or lady applying for the licence. The following are the persons having legal authority to give their consent in case of minority:–1st, the father; if dead–2nd, the guardians, if any appointed by his will; if none–3rd, the mother, if unmarried; if dead or married–4th, the guardians appointed by Chancery. If none of the foregoing persons exist, then the marriage may be legally solemnised without any consent whatever. The following are the official forms for this purpose:–
CONSENTS REQUIRED IN CASE OF MINORS.
_Consent of Father_.
By and with the consent of _A B_, the natural and lawful father of _B B_, the minor aforesaid.
_Guardian Testamentary_.
By and with the consent of _A B_, the guardian of the person of the said _C D_, the minor aforesaid, lawfully appointed in and by the last will and testament of _D D_, deceased, his [or her] natural and lawful father.
_Mother_.
By and with the consent of _A B_, the natural and lawful mother of _B B_, the minor aforesaid, his [or her] father being dead, and he [or she] having no guardian of his [or her] person lawfully appointed, and his [or her] said mother being unmarried.
_Guardian appointed by the Court of Chancery_.
By and with the consent of _A B_, the guardian of the person of the said _C D_, appointed by the High Court of Chancery, and having authority to consent to his [or her] marriage, his [or her] father being dead, and he [or she] having no guardian of his [or her] person otherwise lawfully appointed, or mother living and unmarried.
_When no Father, Testamentary Guardian, Mother, or Guardian appointed by the Court of Chancery_.
That he [or she] the said _A B_, hath no father living, or guardian of his [or her] person lawfully appointed, or mother living and unmarried, or guardian of his [or her] person appointed by the High Court of Chancery, and having authority to consent to the aforesaid marriage.
The previous remarks have reference only to licences for marriages about to be solemnised according to the laws of the Church of England.
_Marriage of Roman Catholics or Dissenters by Licence_.
By the Statute 6th and 7th William IV., 17th August, 1836, Roman Catholics and Dissenters who may wish to be married in a church or chapel belonging to their own denomination, can obtain a licence for that purpose from the Superintendent Registrar of the district in which one of the parties resides, after giving notice thereof a week previous to the same officer. The expense of the licence is L3 12s. 6d.
_Marriage before the Registrar_.
Should the parties wish to avoid the expense of a licence, they can do so by giving three weeks’ notice to the Superintendent Registrar; which notice is affixed in his office, and read before the proper officers when assembled; at the expiration of that time the marriage may be solemnised in any place which is licensed within their district. The Registrar of Marriages of such district must have notice of and attend every such marriage. The fee due to the Registrar of Marriages for attending the ceremony and registering the marriage (by licence) is 10s., and for certificate 2s. 6d; and without a licence 5s., and certificate 2s. 6d.
Marriages also by the above-mentioned Act of Parliament may, upon due notice, be celebrated in the office of the Superintendent Registrar, with or without licence, or with or without any religious ceremony; but the following declarations, which are prescribed by the Act, must be made at all marriages, in some part of the ceremony, either religious or otherwise, in the presence of the Registrar and two witnesses–viz., “I do solemnly declare that I know not of any lawful impediment why I, _A B_, may not be joined in matrimony to _C D_;” and each of the parties shall also say to each other–“I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, _A B_, do take thee, _C D_, to be my lawful wedded wife” (or husband).
It is highly to the credit of the people of this country, and an eminent proof of their deep religious feeling, that all classes of the community have virtually repudiated these “Marriages by Act of Parliament;” nor would we advise any fair maiden who has a regard to the comfort and respect of her after connubial life, to consent to be married in the Registrar’s back parlour, after due proclamation by the Overseers and Poor-Law Guardians.
_The Bridal Trousseau, and the Wedding Presents_.
The day being fixed for the wedding, the bride’s father now presents her with a sum of money for her _trousseau_, according to her rank in life. A few days previously to the wedding, presents are also made to the bride by relations and intimate friends, varying in amount and value according to their degrees of relationship and friendship–such as plate, furniture, jewellery, and articles of ornament, as well as of utility, to the newly-married lady in her future station. These, together with her wedding dresses, &c., it is customary to exhibit to the intimate friends of the bride a day or two before her marriage.
_Duty of a Bridegroom-Elect_.
The bridegroom elect has on the eve of matrimony no little business to transact. His first care is to look after a house suitable for his future home, and then, assisted by the taste of his chosen helpmate, to take steps to furnish it in a becoming style. He must also, if engaged in business, make arrangements for a month’s absence; in fact, bring together all matters into a focus, so as to be readily manageable when after the honeymoon he shall take the reins himself. He will do well also to burn most of his bachelor letters, and part with, it may be, some few of his bachelor connections; and he should communicate, in an easy informal way, to his acquaintances generally, the close approach of so important a change in his condition. Not to do this might hereafter lead to inconvenience and cause no little annoyance.
We must now speak of
_Buying the Ring_.
It is the gentleman’s business to buy the ring; _and let him take especial care not to forget it_; for such an awkward mistake has frequently happened. The ring should be, we need scarcely say, of the very purest gold, but substantial. There are three reasons for this: first, that it may not break–a source of great trouble to the young wife; secondly, that it may not slip off the finger without being missed–few husbands being pleased to hear that their wives have lost their wedding rings; and, thirdly, that it may last out the lifetime of the loving recipient, even should that life be protracted to the extreme extent. To get at the right size required is not one of the least interesting of the delicate mysteries of love. A not unusual method is to get a sister of the fair one to lend one of the lady’s rings, to enable the jeweller to select the proper size. Care must be taken, however, that it be not too large. Some audacious suitors, rendered bold by their favoured position, have been even known presumptuously to try the ring on the patient finger of the bride-elect; and it has rarely happened in such cases that the ring has been refused, or sent back to be changed.
Having bought the ring, the bridegroom should now put it into his waistcoat-pocket, there to remain until he puts on his wedding vest on the morning of the marriage; to the left-hand pocket of which he must then carefully transfer it, and not part with it until he takes it out in the church during the wedding ceremony.
In ancient days, it appears by the “Salisbury Manual,” there was a form of “Blessing the Wedding Ring” before the wedding day; and in those times the priest, previously to the ring being put on, always made careful inquiry whether it had been duly blessed. It would seem to be the wish of certain clergymen, who have of late brought back into use many ceremonial observances that had fallen into desuetude, to revive this ancient custom.
_Who should be Asked to the Wedding_.
The wedding should take place at the house of the bride’s parents or guardians. The parties who ought to be asked are the father and mother of the gentleman, the brothers and sisters (their wives and husbands also, if married), and indeed the immediate relations and favoured friends of both parties. Old family friends on the bride’s side should also receive invitations–the _rationale_ or original intention of this wedding assemblage being to give publicity to the fact that the bride is leaving her paternal home with the consent and approbation of her parents.
On this occasion the bridegroom has the privilege of asking any friends he may choose to the wedding; but no friend has a right to feel affronted at not being invited, since, were all the friends on either side assembled, the wedding breakfast would be an inconveniently crowded reception, rather than an impressive ceremonial. It is, however, considered a matter of friendly attention on the part of those who cannot be invited, to be present at the ceremony in the church.
_Who should be Bridesmaids_.
The bridesmaids should include the unmarried sisters of the bride; but it is considered an anomaly for an elder sister to perform this function. The pleasing novelty for several years past, of an addition to the number of bridesmaids varying from two to eight, and sometimes more, has added greatly to the interest of weddings, the bride being thus enabled to diffuse a portion of her own happiness among the most intimate of her younger friends. One lady is always appointed principal bridesmaid, and has the bride in her charge; it is also her duty to take care that the other bridesmaids have the wedding favours in readiness. On the second bridesmaid devolves, with her principal, the duty of sending out the cards; and on the third bridesmaid, in conjunction with the remaining beauties of her choir, the onerous office of attending to certain ministrations and mysteries connected with the wedding cake.
_Of the Bridegroomsmen_.
It behoves a bridegroom to be exceedingly particular in the selection of the friends who, as groomsmen, are to be his companions and assistants on the occasion of his wedding. Their number is limited to that of the bridesmaids: one for each. It is unnecessary to add that very much of the social pleasure of the day will depend on their proper mating. Young and unmarried they must be, handsome they should be, good-humoured they cannot fail to be, well dressed they will of course take good care to be. Let the bridegroom diligently con over his circle of friends, and select the comeliest and the pleasantest fellows for his own train. The principal bridegroomsman, styled his “best man” has, for the day, the special charge of the bridegroom; and the last warning we would give him is, to take care that, when the bridegroom puts on his wedding waistcoat, he does not omit to put the wedding ring into the corner of the left-hand pocket. The dress of a groomsman should be light and elegant; a dress coat, formerly considered indispensable, is no longer adopted.
_Duties to be Attended to the Day before the Wedding_.
The bride now sends white gloves, wrapped in white paper and tied with white ribbon, to each of the bridesmaids.
The bridegroom does the same to each of the bridegroomsmen.
One portion of the wedding cake is cut into small oblong pieces, and passed by the bridesmaids through the wedding ring, which is delivered into their charge for this purpose. The pieces of cake are afterwards put up in ornamental paper, generally pink or white, enamelled, and tied with bows of silvered paper. This pleasant old custom is, however, much on the wane.
The bridegroom’s “best man” on this day must take care that due notice be sent to the clerk of the parish where the ceremony is to take place, so that the church may be got ready, and the clergyman be in attendance.
It is usual too for the bridegroom’s “best man” to make arrangements for the church bells being rung after the ceremony: the _rationale_ of this being to imply that it is the province of the husband to call on all the neighbours to rejoice with him on his receiving his wife, and not that of the lady’s father on her going from his house.
The bridegroom furnishes to the bridesmaids his list for the “Cards” to be sent to his friends; of which hereafter.
On the evening of this day the wedding breakfast should be ornamented and spread out, as far as possible, in the apartment appropriated to it.
The bridesmaids on this evening also prepare the wedding favours, which should be put up in a box ready to be conveyed to the church on the morning of the marriage. A picturesque custom is observed in many country weddings, where the bride’s friends strew her path to the church door with flowers.
* * * * *
V.–ETIQUETTE OF A WEDDING.
The parties being assembled on the wedding morning in the drawing-room of the residence of the bride’s father (unless, as sometimes happens, the breakfast is spread in that room), the happy _cortege_ should proceed to the church in the following order:–
In the first carriage, the bride’s mother and the parents of the bridegroom.
In the second and third carriages, bridesmaids.
Other carriages with the bride’s friends.
In the last carriage, the bride and her father.
_Costume of the Bride_.
A bride’s costume should be white, or some hue as close as possible to it. Fawn colour, grey, and lavender are entirely out of fashion. It is considered more stylish for a very young bride to go without a bonnet, but for her head to be covered with only a wreath of orange blossoms and a Chantilly or some other lace veil. This, however, is entirely a matter of taste; but, whether wearing a bonnet or not, the bride must always wear a veil. If a widow, she may wear not only a bonnet, but a coloured silk dress.
_Costume of the Bridegroom_.
Formerly it was not considered to be in good taste for a gentleman to be married in a black coat. More latitude is now allowed in the costume of a bridegroom, the style now adopted being what is termed morning dress: a frock coat, light trousers, white satin or silk waistcoat, ornamental tie, and white or grey gloves.
_How the Bridesmaids should be Dressed_.
The bridesmaids dress generally in pairs, each two alike, but sometimes all wear a similar costume. Pink and light blue, with white pardessus or mantelets, or white with pink or blue, are admissible colours. The bonnets, if worn, must be white, with marabout feathers; but, of late, bonnets have usually been discarded, the bridesmaids wearing veils instead. The whole costume of a bridesmaid should have a very light but brilliant effect, and the _tout ensemble_ of this fair bevy should be so constituted in style and colour as to look well by the side of and about the bride. It should be as the warm colouring in the background of a sun-lit picture, helping to throw into the foreground the dress of the bride, and make her prominent, as the principal person in the tableau.
_Arrival at the Church_.
The bridegroom meets the bride at the altar, where he must take especial care to arrive in good time before the hour appointed.
_Order of Procession to the Altar_.
The father of the bride generally advances with her from the church door to the altar, followed immediately by the bridesmaids. The father of the bridegroom, if present, gives his arm to the bride’s mother if she be present, as is now usual at fashionable weddings, and goes next to the bridesmaids. The friends who have come with the wedding party proceed next in succession.
The bridegroom with his groomsmen must be in readiness to meet the bride at the altar, the bridegroom standing at the left hand of the clergyman, in the centre before the altar rails.
We have seen on some occasions the bridegroom offer the bride his left arm to lead her to the altar, but this should be avoided; for by so doing, the whole order of the procession to the altar becomes inverted, and must then be arranged as follows:–
The father, or some male relative or friend, and the mother of the bride, or, if she be not present, the mother of the gentleman, or one of the oldest female relations or friends of the bride’s family, are to lead the way towards the altar from the vestry.
The friends who have come with the wedding party follow next in succession.
Then come the bridesmaids and bridegroomsmen in pairs.
The bridegroom, having offered his left arm to the bride, now conducts her up the centre aisle of the church to the altar. The parties in advance file to the right and left of the altar, leaving the bride and bridegroom in the centre.
_The Marriage Ceremony_.
The bridegroom stands at the right hand of the bride. The father stands just behind her, so as to be in readiness to give her hand at the proper moment to the bridegroom. The principal bridesmaid stands on the left of the bride, ready to take off the bride’s glove, which she keeps as a perquisite and prize of her office.
It was ordered by the old Rubrics that the woman, if a widow, should have her hand covered when presented by father or friend to the priest for marriage; one of the many points by which the Church distinguished second marriages. A piece of silver and a piece of gold were also laid with the wedding ring upon the priest’s book (where the cross would be on the cover), in token of dower to the wife.
_The words “I Will”_
are to be pronounced distinctly and audibly by both parties, such being the all-important part of the ceremony as respects themselves: the public delivery, before the priest, by the father of his daughter to the bridegroom, being an evidence of his assent; the silence which follows the inquiry for “cause or just impediment” testifying that of society in general; and the “I will” being the declaration of the bride and bridegroom that they are voluntary parties to their holy union in marriage.
_The words “Honour and Obey”_
must also be distinctly spoken by the bride. They constitute an essential part of the obligation and contract of matrimony on her part. It may not be amiss here to inform our fair readers that on the marriage of our gracious Sovereign Queen Victoria to H.R.H. the late lamented Prince Albert, her Majesty carefully and most judiciously emphasised these words, thereby manifesting that though a Queen in station, yet in her wedded and private life she sought no exemption from this obligation, and in this respect placed herself on the same level with the humblest village matron in her dominions.
This obedience on the part of the wife, concerning which there is oftentimes much serious questioning among ladies old and young, while yet unmarried, is thus finely defined by Jeremy Taylor:–“It is a voluntary cession that is required; such a cession as must be without coercion and violence on his part, but upon fair inducements and reasonableness in the thing, and out of love and honour on her part. When God commands us to love Him, He means we shall obey Him. ‘This is love, that ye keep my commandments; and if ye love me,’ says the Lord, ‘keep my commandments.’ Now as Christ is to the Church, so is man to the wife; and therefore obedience is the best instance of her love; for it proclaims her submission, her humility, her opinion of his wisdom, his pre-eminence in the family, the right of his privilege, and the injunction imposed by God upon her sex, that although in sorrow she bring forth children, yet with love and choice she should obey. The man’s authority is love, and the woman’s love is obedience. It is modesty to advance and highly to honour them who have honoured us by making us the companions of their dearest excellencies; for the woman that went before the man in the way of death, is commanded to follow him in the way of love; and that makes the society to be perfect, and the union profitable, and the harmony complete.”
_The Ring_.
The Rubric tells us “the man shall give unto the woman a ring, laying the same upon the book with the accustomed duty to the priest and clerk.” This latter rule is, however, not now observed, it being usual to pay the fees in the vestry; but to ensure the presence of the ring, a caution by no means unnecessary, and in some measure to sanctify that emblem of an eternal union, it is asked for by the clerk previously to the commencement of the ceremony, who advises that it be placed upon the book.
We pity the unfortunate bridegroom who at this moment cannot, by at once inserting his hand into the corner (the one most ready to his finger and thumb) of his left-hand waistcoat-pocket, pull out the wedding ring. Imagine his dismay at not finding it there!–the first surprise, the growing anxiety, as the right-hand pocket is next rummaged–the blank look, as he follows this by the discovery that his neither garments have no pockets whatsoever, not even a watch-fob, where it may lie _perdue_ in a corner! Amid the suppressed giggle of the bridesmaids, the disconcerted look of the bride herself, at such a palpable instance of carelessness on the part of the bridegroom thus publicly displayed before all her friends, and the half-repressed disapprobation of the numerous circle around, he fumbles in the coat-pockets, and turns them inside-out. A further but useless search causes increased confusion and general annoyance; at length it becomes evident that the unfortunate ring has been forgotten! We may observe, however, that in default of the ring, the wedding ring of the mother may be used. The application of the key of the church door is traditionary in this absurd dilemma; and in country churches a straw twisted into a circle has been known to supply the place of the orthodox hoop of gold!
_After the Ceremony_.
the clergyman usually shakes hands with the bride and bridegroom, and the bride’s father and mother, and a general congratulation ensues.
_The Clergyman and Assistant Clergymen_.
The clergyman of the church is invariably invited to attend, although the ceremony may be performed by some clerical friend of the bride or bridegroom. This is called “assisting;” other clergymen who may attend in addition, as is sometimes the case, are said also to “assist.” But as much ridicule has fallen upon the adoption of this custom, and as the expression of “assisting” is considered an affectation, it is much less in vogue than it was; and it is no longer usual to mention the names of any other clergymen than that of the one who performs the ceremony, and of the clergyman of the church, who should be present whether invited or not. It is, indeed, his duty to attend, and he should insist on so doing, inasmuch as the entry of the marriage in the parish register is supposed to be made under his sanction and authority. It should not be forgotten that the presence of an “assisting clergyman” entails the doubling of the fees. The payment of the fees is generally entrusted to the bridegroom’s “best man,” or some other intimate friend of his.
_Difference of Religion_.
Where the bride and bridegroom are of different religions, the marriage is usually first celebrated in the church of that communion to which the husband belongs; the second celebration should immediately follow, and upon the same day. Some, however, regard it as duly deferential to the bride’s feelings that the first ceremony should be performed in her own communion. There is a notion prevalent, that in the case of a marriage between Roman Catholics and Protestants, the ceremony must necessarily be first performed in a Protestant church. This is erroneous–the order of the twofold marriage is, in a legal point of view, of no moment, so long as it takes place on the same day.
_The Return to the Vestry_.
On the completion of the ceremony the bride is led to the vestry by the bridegroom. The bridesmaids and bridegroomsmen follow, the principals of each taking the lead; then the father of the bride, followed by the father and mother of the bridegroom, and the rest of the company.
_The Registry of the Marriage_.
The husband signs first; then the bride-wife, for the last time in her maiden name; next the father of the bride, and the mother, if present; then the father and mother of the bridegroom, if present; next the bridesmaids and the bridegroomsmen; then such of the rest of the company as may desire to be on the record as witnesses. All the names must be signed in full. The certificate of the marriage is then handed to the bride, and should be carefully preserved in her own possession.
_The Wedding Favours_.
Meanwhile, outside the church, as soon as the ceremony is completed–and not before, for it is regarded as unfortunate–a box of the wedding favours is opened, and every servant in waiting takes care to pin one on the right side of his hat, while the coachmen, too, ornament therewith the ears of their horses. Inside the church the wedding favours are also distributed, and a gay, gallant, and animated scene ensues, as each bridesmaid pins on to the coat of each bridegroomsman a wedding favour, which he returns by pinning one also on her shoulder. Every “favour” is carefully furnished with two pins for this purpose; and it is amazing to see the flutter, the coquettish smiling, and the frequent pricking of fingers, which the performance of this _piquant_ and pleasant duty of the wedding bachelors and ladies “in waiting” does occasion!
_The Return Home_.
The bridegroom now leads the bride out of the church, and the happy pair return homeward in the first carriage. The father and mother follow in the next. The rest “stand not on the order of their going,” but start off in such wise as they can best contrive.
_The Wedding Breakfast_.
The bride and bridegroom sit together at the centre of the table, in front of the wedding cake, the clergyman who performed the ceremony taking his place opposite to them. The top and bottom of the table are occupied by the father and mother of the bride. The principal bridesmaid sits to the left of the bride, and the principal bridegroomsman on the left of the bridegroom. It may not be unnecessary to say that it is customary for the ladies to wear their bonnets just as they came from the church. The bridesmaids cut the cake into small pieces, which are not eaten until the health of the bride is proposed. This is usually done by the officiating clergyman, or by an old and cherished friend of the family of the bridegroom. The bridegroom returns thanks for the bride and for himself. The health of the bride’s parents is then proposed, and is followed by those of the principal personages present, the toast of the bridesmaids being generally one of the pleasantest features of the festal ceremony. After about two hours, the principal bridesmaid leads the bride out of the room as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb the party or attract attention. Shortly after–it may be in about ten minutes–the absence of the bride being noticed, the rest of the ladies retire. Then it is that the bridegroom has a few _melancholy_ moments to bid adieu to his bachelor friends, and he then generally receives some hints on the subject in a short address from one of them, to which he is of course expected to respond. He then withdraws for a few moments, and returns after having made a slight addition to his toilet, in readiness for travelling.
In some recent fashionable weddings we have noticed that the bride and bridegroom do not attend the wedding breakfast, but after a slight refreshment in a private apartment, take their departure immediately on the wedding tour. But this defalcation, if we may so call it, of the chief _dramatis personae_ of the day, though considered to be in good taste, is by no means a popular innovation, but is rather regarded as a prudish dereliction from the ancient forms of hospitality, which are more prized than ever on so genial an occasion as a marriage.
_Departure for the Honeymoon_.
The young bride, divested of her bridal attire, and quietly costumed for the journey, now bids farewell to her bridesmaids and lady friends. A few tears spring to her gentle eyes as she takes a last look at the home she is now leaving. The servants venture to crowd about her with their humble but heartfelt congratulations; finally, she falls weeping on her mother’s bosom. A short cough is heard, as of some one summoning up resolution to hide emotion. It is her father. He dares not trust his voice; but holds out his hand, gives her an affectionate kiss, and then leads her, half turning back, down the stairs and through the hall, to the door, where he delivers her as a precious charge to her husband, who hands her quickly into the carriage, springs in after her, waves his hand to the party who appear crowding at the windows, half smiles at the throng about the door, then, amidst a shower of old slippers–missiles of good-luck sent flying after the happy pair–gives the word, and they are off, and started on the long-hoped-for voyage!
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VI.–ETIQUETTE AFTER THE WEDDING.
The dress of the bride during the honeymoon should be characterised by modesty, an attractive simplicity, and scrupulous neatness. The slightest approach to slatternliness in costume, when all should be exquisitely trim from _chevelure_ to _chaussure_, would be an abomination, and assuredly beget a most unpleasant impression on the susceptible feelings of the husband. He will naturally regard any carelessness or indifference in this respect, at such a time, as a bad augury for the future.
_The Wedding Cards_.
The distribution of these has long been regarded as an important social duty; it devolves, as we have already said, on the bridesmaids, who meet for that purpose at the house of the bride’s father on the day after the wedding. The cards, which are always furnished by the bridegroom, are two fold–the one having upon it the gentleman’s and the other the lady’s name. They are placed in envelopes, those containing the lady’s card having her maiden name engraved or lithographed inside the fold, and have all been addressed some time before by the bridesmaids, to whom the gentleman has given a list of such of his friends as he wishes to introduce to his home.
The lady generally sends cards to all whom she has been in the habit of receiving or visiting while at her father’s house. She too has now an opportunity of dropping such acquaintances as she may not be desirous of retaining in her wedded life.
This point of sending the cards has until recently been considered as one requiring great care and circumspection, since an omission has frequently been regarded as a serious affront. To those parties whose visiting acquaintance is wished to be kept up, on the bride’s card it has been the custom until lately to add the words “At home” on such a day. But this usage is going out of vogue.
To send cards without an address is an intimation that the parties are not expected to call except in the case of friends who reside far away, or when the marriage has taken place at a distance. In fact, the address is understood to denote “At home,” by those who adhere to the custom; it is better, however, that those words should be put upon the cards.
A practice has grown up of late, more particularly where the circle of friends is extensive, to send invitations to such as are not called to the wedding feast to attend the ceremony at church, instead of issuing cards at all. When this rule is observed, it is usual in notifying the marriage in the newspapers to add the words “No Cards.”
_Reception of Visitors_.
On the return of the wedded pair from their honeymoon trip, about a month or six weeks after the wedding, they were, until recently, expected to be “At home;” but the formality of reception days is now generally exploded. Intimate friends, whether “At home” cards have been issued or not, will, however, be expected to pay them a visit. But if reception days have been fixed, the bride, with her husband and bridesmaids, will sit “at home” ready to receive those to whom cards have been sent, the bride wearing her wedding dress, and the company invited to partake of wedding cake and wine to drink the health of the bride.
_Returning Visits_.
The bride and her husband, or, in case he may not be able to attend her, the principal bridesmaid–the last of whose official duties this is–usually return all the wedding visits paid to them. Those who may have called on the bride without having received wedding cards should not have their visits returned, unless special reason exists to the contrary, such visit being deemed an impolite intrusion.
These return visits having been paid, the happy pair cease to be spoken of as _bride_ and _bridegroom_, but are henceforward styled the “newly-married couple;” and then all goes on as if they had been married twenty years.
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VII.–PRACTICAL ADVICE TO A NEWLY-MARRIED COUPLE.
Our advice to the husband will be brief. Let him have up concealments from his wife, but remember that their interests are mutual; that, as she must suffer the pains of every loss, as well as share the advantages of every success, in his career in life, she has therefore a right to know the risks she may be made to undergo. We do not say that it is necessary, or advisable, or even fair, to harass a wife’s mind with the details of business; but where a change of circumstances–not for the better–is anticipated or risked, let her by all means be made acquainted with the fact in good time. Many a kind husband almost breaks his young wife’s fond heart by an alteration in his manner, which she cannot but detect, but from ignorance of the cause very probably attributes to a wrong motive; while he, poor fellow, all the while out of pure tenderness, is endeavouring to conceal from her tidings–which must come out at last–of ruined hopes or failure in speculation; whereas, had she but known the danger beforehand, she would have alleviated his fears on her account, and by cheerful resignation have taken out half the sting of his disappointment. Let no man think lightly of the opinion of his wife in times of difficulty. Women have generally more acuteness of perception than men; and in moments of peril, or in circumstances that involve a crisis or turning-point in life, they have usually more resolution and greater instinctive judgment.
We recommend that every husband from the first should make his wife an allowance for ordinary household expenses–which he should pay weekly or monthly–and for the expenditure of which he should not, unless for some urgent reason, call her to account. A tolerably sure guide in estimating the amount of this item, which does not include rent, taxes, servants’ wages, coals, or candles, &c., is to remember that in a small middle-class family, not exceeding _four_, the expense of each person for ordinary food amounts to fifteen shillings weekly; beyond that number, to ten shillings weekly for each extra person, servant or otherwise. This estimate does not, of course, provide for wine or food of a luxurious kind. The largest establishment, indeed, may be safely calculated on the same scale.
A wife should also receive a stated allowance for dress, within which limit she ought always to restrict her expenses. Any excess of expenditure under this head should be left to the considerate kindness of her husband to concede. Nothing is more contemptible than for a woman to have perpetually to ask her husband for small sums for housekeeping expenses–nothing more annoying and humiliating than to have to apply to him always for money for her own private use–nothing more disgusting than to see a man “mollycoddling” about marketing, and rummaging about for cheap articles of all kinds.
Let the husband beware, when things go wrong with him in business affairs, of venting his bitter feelings of disappointment and despair in the presence of his wife and family,–feelings which, while abroad, he finds it practicable to restrain. It is as unjust as it is impolitic to indulge in such a habit.
A wife having married the man she loves above all others, must be expected in her turn to pay some court to him. Before marriage she has, doubtless, been made his idol. Every moment he could spare, and perhaps many more than he could properly so appropriate, have been devoted to her. How anxiously has he not revolved in his mind his worldly chances of making her happy! How often has he not had to reflect, before he made the proposal of marriage, whether he should be acting dishonourably towards her by incurring the risk, for the selfish motive of his own gratification, of placing her in a worse position than the one she occupied at home! And still more than this, he must have had to consider with anxiety the probability of having to provide for an increasing family, with all its concomitant expenses.
We say, then, that being married, and the honeymoon over, the husband must necessarily return to his usual occupations, which will, in all probability, engage the greater part of his thoughts, for he will now be desirous to have it in his power to procure various little indulgences for his wife’s sake which he never would have dreamed of for his own. He comes to his home weary and fatigued; his young wife has had but her pleasures to gratify, or the quiet routine of her domestic duties to attend to, while he has been toiling through the day to enable her to gratify these pleasures and to fulfil these duties. Let then, the dear, tired husband, at the close of his daily labours, be made welcome by the endearments of his loving spouse–let him be free from the care of having to satisfy the caprices of a petted wife. Let her now take her turn in paying those many little love-begotten attentions which married men look for to soothe them–let her reciprocate that devotion to herself, which, from the early hours of their love, he cherished for her, by her ever-ready endeavours to make him happy and his home attractive.
In the presence of other persons, however, married people should refrain from fulsome expressions of endearment to each other, the use of which, although a common practice, is really a mark of bad taste. It is desirable also to caution them against adopting the too prevalent vulgarism of calling each other, or indeed any person whatever, merely by the initial letter of their surname.
A married woman should always be very careful how she receives personal compliments. She should never court them, nor ever feel flattered by them, whether in her husband’s presence or not. If in his presence, they can hardly fail to be distasteful to him; if in his absence, a lady, by a dignified demeanour, may always convince an assiduous admirer that his attentions are not well received, and at once and for ever stop all familiar advances. In case of insult, a wife should immediately make her husband acquainted therewith; as the only chance of safety to a villain lies in the concealment of such things by a lady from dread of consequences to her husband. From that moment he has her at advantage, and may very likely work on deliberately to the undermining of her character. He is thus enabled to play upon her fears, and taunt her with their mutual secret and its concealment, until she may be involved, guilelessly, in a web of apparent guilt, from which she can never extricate herself without risking the happiness of her future life.
Not the least useful piece of advice–homely though it be–that we can offer to newly-married ladies, is to remind them that husbands are men, and that men must eat. We can tell them, moreover, that men attach no small importance to this very essential operation, and that a very effectual way to keep them in good-humour, as well as good condition, is for wives to study their husband’s peculiar likes and dislikes in this matter. Let the wife try, therefore, if she have not already done so, to get up a little knowledge of the art of _ordering_ dinner, to say the least of it. This task, if she be disposed to learn it, will in time be easy enough; moreover, if in addition she should acquire some practical knowledge of cookery, she will find ample reward in the gratification it will be the means of affording her husband.
Servants are difficult subjects for a young wife to handle: she generally either spoils them by indulgence, or ruins them by finding fault unfairly. At last they either get the better of her, or she is voted too bad for them. The art lies in steady command and management of yourself as well as them. The well-known Dr. Clark, who was always well served, used to say, “It is so extremely difficult to get good servants, that we should not lightly give them up when even tolerable. My advice is, bear a little with them, and do not be too sharp; pass by little things with gentle reprehension: now and then a little serious advice does far more good than sudden fault-finding when the offence justly occurs. If my wife had not acted in this way, we must have been continually changing, and nothing can be more disagreeable in a family, and, indeed, it is generally disgraceful.”
An observance of the few following rules will in all probability ensure a life of domestic harmony, peace, and comfort:–
To hear as little as possible whatever is to the prejudice of others; to believe nothing of the kind until you are compelled to admit the truth of it; never to take part in the circulation of evil report and idle gossip; always to moderate, as far as possible, harsh and unkind expressions reflecting upon others; always to believe that if the other side were heard, a very different account might be given of the matter.
In conclusion, we say emphatically to the newly-wedded wife, that attention to these practical hints will prolong her honeymoon throughout the whole period of wedded life, and cause her husband, as each year adds to the sum of his happiness, to bless the day when he first chose her as the nucleus round which he might consolidate the inestimable blessings of HOME.
“How fair is home, in fancy’s pictured theme, In wedded life, in love’s romantic dream! Thence springs each hope, there every spring returns, Pure as the flame that upward heavenward burns; There sits the wife, whose radiant smile is given– The daily sun of the domestic heaven;
And when calm evening sheds a secret power, Her looks of love imparadise the hour;
While children round, a beauteous train, appear, Attendant stars, revolving in her sphere.”
HOLLAND’S _Hopes of Matrimony_.
How to Dress Well
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I.–INTRODUCTION.
No one disputes the fact that, when our first parents were placed in the garden of Eden, they wore no clothes. It was not until after they had acquired the knowledge of good and evil that they turned their attention to the subject of dress, which is now the engrossing thought and care of the majority.
There are still to be found amongst the uncivilized races those who are contented with as small an amount of clothing as satisfied the first inhabitants of Eden. Yet many of these show that they study personal appearance quite as much as the most fashionable of Parisian belles; for they bestow much labour, time, and thought, and endure much actual suffering in the elaborate patterns with which they tattoo, and, as they vainly suppose, embellish their faces and persons. The ancient Britons, who painted themselves in various devices, also bore witness to the natural craving after personal adornment, which seems to be inherent in the whole human race.
The particular modes in which this craving exhibits itself seem to depend upon climate and civilization. Climate prescribes what is absolutely necessary; civilization, what is decent and becoming. In some countries it is necessary to protect the body, and especially the head, from the power of the sun; in others, to guard it against extreme cold; while many of the savage tribes, inured to the scorching rays of the sun, almost entirely dispense with clothing, and yet have certain conceits and vanities which show that personal appearance is not disregarded. The most hostile intentions have been averted, and imminent peril escaped, by the timely present of a few rows of bright-coloured beads, or a small piece of looking-glass; and the most trumpery European gewgaws have elicited more admiration, afforded greater pleasure, and effected more goodwill, than the most costly treasures could purchase among civilized nations. A love of finery seems to belong to human nature. There is an attraction in bright and showy colours which the uncivilized cannot resist, and which is equally powerful among those who are civilized, though education and other causes may qualify it.
When we hear persons loudly declaiming against dress as a needless waste of time and money–when we hear them sighing for the return of the good old times when it was not so much considered, we are tempted to inquire at what period in the history of the world those times occurred; for we cannot learn that it was, at any time, considered to be an unimportant item of expenditure or thought. We do not by any means affirm that it may not occupy too much care; that there may not be instances in which it is suffered to engross the mind to the detriment of other things more worthy of consideration; that it may not lead to frivolity and extravagance. All this may be, and no doubt often is, true. It is quite possible, and more than probable. But we also maintain that it is a great mistake to come down upon it with a sweeping denunciation, and, in Quaker fashion, avow it to be all vanity, and assert that it must be trodden out of thought and eye. Even the Quakers themselves, who affect such supercilious contempt for dress, are very particular about the cut of their headgear, about the shade of their greys and their drabs and their browns, and, in their scrupulous neatness, show that they think as much of a grease-spot or a stain as many a damsel does of the ribbon in her cap or the set of her collar and cuffs. So that, after all, whatever professions people may make, human nature and human wants are always the same.
It by no means follows that a person who is well dressed thinks a great deal about it, or devotes much time to it. To some persons it comes quite naturally. They look well in whatever they wear; and the probability is that it occupies less of their time and thoughts than many who arrive, with infinite more labour and pains, at a less pleasing result.
In submitting this manual to the public, we do not presume to do more than offer such suggestions as may promote a better style of dress, consistent with a due regard to economy. No doubt many of our suggestions will have occurred to some of our readers, and it may seem almost needless to have made them, but we know by experience in other things that maxims are often forgotten and laid aside till something occurs to revive them.
It is easy enough for the rich to be in harmony with the prevailing fashion. They have but to open their purse-strings, and pay for any of those freaks of fancy which are called fashion. To combine a good style with economy requires judgment and contrivance, or, what is generally called, management.
There are certain points which may be considered as fundamental, without which the most rigid attention to matters of dress will go for nothing. For instance, cleanliness, which according to the old proverb, is rated so high as to be placed next to godliness, is one of these, and of primary importance. The most costly attire, if unaccompanied by it, is not only valueless, but may become a positive disfigurement, while the simplest dress, combined with cleanliness, may be absolutely refreshing. There is no reason whatever why the most menial occupation should be admitted as any excuse for want of personal cleanliness. It is always easy to distinguish between accidental dirt which cannot always be avoided, and that which is habitual.
When it is considered that the object of nine-tenths of womankind is that they may marry and settle in life, as their fathers and mothers have done before them, it is very natural that they should endeavour to make themselves as captivating as they can; only let them all bear this in mind,–let their rank and station be what it may,–that no man is caught by the mere display of fine clothes. A pretty face, or good figure, may captivate; but fine clothes, never. Though it is said that fine feathers make fine birds, yet no mail will be caught by a trimming or a flounce.
To what end then should attention be given to dress? Why should it be made of so much consequence as to write a manual upon it? Because it is one of beauty’s accessories; because as dress of some kind is absolutely necessary and indispensable, it is better that people of all classes should dress well rather than ill, and that, when it is done, it should be done sensibly and reasonably; without carelessness on the one hand, and without extravagance on the other. When we may, why should we not choose the best and most becoming? Why are we to mortify ourselves and annoy our friends by choosing something because it is especially hideous? No law, human or divine, enjoins us to disfigure ourselves.
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II.–TASTE IN DRESS.
In dress, as in most other things, there are two kinds of taste; good taste and bad taste. We use the word “taste” in a sense quite distinct from “style.” It is a disputed point whether really good taste can ever be acquired, or whether it is only inherent. We are disposed to think that, in its most perfect form, it is inborn; but that education, association, familiarity with it may, and often does, arrive at the same result. For instance, a person who has always lived on close and intimate terms with those who are conspicuous for their good taste, becomes so familiarized with certain expressions of thoughts and ideas, habits of mind, and standard of life, that he unconsciously adopts them, views things from the same point, and walks in the same groove, quite irrespective of the natural tendencies of his own mind. Persons who have no natural gift or talent for painting, may acquire a knowledge of the art so as to pronounce with tolerable correctness of judgment upon the works of the old masters, from merely associating with those who are conversant with the subject, living amongst the pictures themselves, or from hearing discussions upon their respective merits. In fact, man is an imitative animal, and can adapt himself very readily to the circumstances by which he is surrounded, as well as acquire from others the results of their deeper research and greater experience. Living in an atmosphere where good taste prevails, it is not wonderful that he should acquire that power of discrimination by which the selection of what is becoming and harmonious is made easy.
There is no doubt that dress is a very fair index of the mind of the wearer. Who but a Widow Barnaby would wear a bright emerald green satin dress in the morning, and a bonnet profusely ornamented with large and brilliant scarlet flowers? Yet we have ourselves seen a lady, of ample dimensions and advanced years, similarly attired, and could think of nothing but one of those large gaudy macaws which are to be met with in every zoological garden. Who that had any regard for his own liberty would marry such a strong-minded, pretentious dame? Who could endure for life the vulgarity of mind that suggested such a costume for a fete in the country on a hot summer’s day? There are some persons who think to overpower their neighbours by the splendour of their attire.
It is much easier to point out what offends against good taste than to say in so many words in what it consists.
Harmony of colour is essential to being well dressed. There are colours which “swear” so awfully, that no one with any pretension to good taste would wear them; yet we not unfrequently find instances of them. A yellow gown has been worn with a bright green bonnet; red and green, like our friend a-la-macaw; salmon colour and blue; yellow and red; green and blue. Two ill-assorted shades of the same colour, such as a dark and light blue; or a red lilac and a blue lilac; or a rose pink and a blue pink; or drab and yellow. Instances might be multiplied without end of incongruous inharmonious blending of colours, the mere sight of which is enough to give any one a bilious fever. There are colours which, in themselves, may be inoffensive, but of which only particular shades assort well together. Blue and pink was a very favourite combination at one time; but in order to be both pleasing and effective, it must be one particular shade of each, and these softened and blended by the addition of white. Again, shades of scarlet and blue harmonize well together. Black has a wonderful power in softening down any intrusive brilliancy. It tones down scarlet and pink, blue and yellow, and gives them an indescribable charm, suggesting all kinds of pleasant things–the Cachuca and castanets, and the mantilla worn with such inimitable grace and coquetry by the Spanish ladies. Black and white is also a pleasing combination. White has generally the opposite effect of black. It adds to the brilliancy of the colours, and smartens rather than subdues. Many of those who aim at being well dressed, rarely give sufficient attention to this harmony of colour. One little thing will upset the whole. The choice of jewels or the head dress may destroy all the effect which has been admirably conceived by an experienced dressmaker. It is on this account that some milliners prefer to supply all that is requisite for a particular costume. The man-milliner at Paris is said to be very dictatorial on this subject, and to decide very peremptorily as to what shall or shall not be worn. In morning costumes, a pair of gloves badly chosen will mar the effect of the whole. Imagine a lady dressed in mauve silk, with a mauve bonnet, and _emerald green kid gloves_! or vice versa, in green silk, with a bonnet to match, and _mauve-coloured gloves_! Dark green, dark mauve, or plum coloured, dark salmon, or dark yellow gloves, are enough to spoil the most faultless costume; because they interrupt the harmony of colour; like the one string of a musical instrument, which, being out of tune, creates a discord throughout all the rest.
Variety in colour is another great defect in dress, quite apart from the question of their harmony. A multiplicity of colours, though not in themselves inharmonious, is never pleasing. It fatigues the eye, which cannot find any repose where it is disturbed by so many colours. A bonnet of one colour, a gown of another, with trimmings of a third, a mantle of a fourth, and a parasol of a fifth colour, can never form a costume that will please the eye. It is laid to the charge of English people, that they are especially fond of this kind of dress, whereas a French woman will dress much more quietly, though, by no means, less expensively; but in her choice of colours she will use very few, and those well assorted. For instance, a grey gown and a white bonnet, relieved by a black lace shawl or velvet mantle, indicate a refinement which may be looked in vain where the colours of the rainbow prevail. Among well-dressed persons it will be found that quiet colours are always preferred. Whatever is gaudy is offensive, and the use of many colours constitutes gaudiness. Birds of gay plumage are sometimes brought forward to sanction the use of many bright colours. They are indeed worthy of all admiration; so also are flowers, in which we find the most beautiful assortment of colours; but nature has shaded and blended them together with such exquisite skill and delicacy, that they are placed far beyond the reach of all human art; and we think they are, to use the mildest terms, both bold and unwise who attempt to reproduce in their own persons, with the aid of silks or satins, the marvellous effect of colours with which nature abounds. And yet it may be observed in nature, how gay colours are neutralized by their accessories; how the greens vary in tone and tint according to the blossoms which they surround. The infinite shades and depths of colour with which nature is filled render it impossible for anyone to attempt to imitate it beyond a certain point of general harmony. This is now more generally understood than it used to be; but still we often stumble across some glaring instance in which a gaudy eye and taste have been allowed to run riot, and the result has been the reproduction of something not very unlike a bed of tulips.
It is in a host of little things such as these that good taste lies, and shows itself. We remember an instance of a lady, who was conspicuous among her fellows for her exquisitely good taste in dress, being severely commented upon by two showily-dressed women, who were the wives of wealthy merchants in one of our great seaport-towns. This lady appeared in church quietly dressed in black, with a handsome Indian shawl, of which the colours were subdued and wonderfully blended. The two representatives of the “nouveaux riches” looked at the lady and then at each other; they turned up their noses, and shrugged their shoulders, and gave vent to their feelings, as they came away from church, in loud exclamations of disdain: “Well! did you ever? No! I never did; and she a lady too! For their part they would be ashamed to wear such a shabby old shawl.” The shawl was worth about its weight in gold; but because it was not showy, it found no favour in their eyes.
As it is so intricate a matter, and one of which a very slight thing can turn the scales, it is not easy to lay down rules by which good taste may be acquired. But there are instances of bad taste which can be avoided, and among them there is one which is self-evident, and does not relate either to harmony or to variety of colours. We allude to the good taste of dressing according to our means and station.
There is an impression in the minds of some persons, that fine feathers make fine birds, and that the world in general thinks more or less of them according to the dress they wear. Therefore, in order that they may impose upon their neighbours by their outward appearance, and, as children say, make-believe that they are richer than they really are, they dress beyond their means, and, at the cost of much privation of even the necessaries of life, make a display which they are not warranted in making. We have known those who have pinched themselves till they have brought on actual illness, or have laid the foundation of a fatal disease, in order that they might dress themselves in a style beyond their position in life. In France this is often the case. A lady who, in her ordinary attire, is as slovenly and as shabbily dressed as almost the very beggar in the street, will appear at some evening party most exquisitely dressed, and will carry on her back the savings acquired by months and years of penurious self-denial.
We respect those who struggle hard to maintain their hereditary position, and reverence within certain limits the spirit of endurance which bears in privacy the changes of fortune in order to keep up a becoming appearance in the eyes of the world. But we have no sympathy for those who, having no such excuse, having no high lineage, and to whom fortune has not been unkind, stint and screw that they may impose upon their neighbours with the notion that they are better off than they really are,–better off in money, and better off in position. Imposture of this kind we confess we have no patience for. We are very intolerant of it. It is a vulgarity which, wherever it may be found, is most offensive. We go even further still, and are disposed to blame all who, whatever their circumstances or condition may have been or may be, dress beyond their means. It is possible that some relics of past grandeur may yet remain to be worn on state occasions. With that no one can quarrel; but it is a mistake to make great and unwarrantable sacrifices in order to replenish the exhausted wardrobe on its former scale of magnificence. It is better far to accept fate, to comply with the inevitable, and not waste time and strength in fighting against the iron gates of destiny. No one, whose esteem is worth having, will respect us less because we dress according to our means, even if those means should have dwindled into insignificance. But if we toil unduly to make ourselves appear to be something that we are not, we shall earn contempt and reap disappointment. It is far more noble-minded to bid farewell to all our greatness, than to catch greedily at any of the outlying tinsel that may remain here and there. This indicates good taste more than anything. To be what we are, really and simply, and without pretension, is one of the greatest proofs of good feeling which, in matters of dress, resolves itself into good taste.
There is nothing more hateful than pretension. The fable of the “Frog and the Bull” illustrates the absurdity of it. Yet it is of every-day occurrence, and we continually meet with instances of it. Persons in humble class of life will often ape their betters, dressing after them, and absolutely going without necessary food in order to get some piece of finery. Fine gowns of inconvenient length, expanded over large crinolines–silk mantles richly trimmed,–often conceal the coarsest, scantiest, and most ragged underclothing. We have seen the most diminutive bonnets, not bigger than saucers, ornamented with beads and flowers and lace, and backed up by ready-made “chignons,” on the heads of girls who are only one degree removed from the poor-house. Servant-girls who can scarcely read, much less write,–who do not know how to spell their names,–who have low wages,–and, as little children, had scarcely shoes to their feet,–who perhaps never saw fresh meat in their homes, except at Christmas, when it was given them by some rich neighbour,–spend all their earnings on their dress, appear on Sundays in hats and feathers, or bonnets and flowers, and veils and parasols, and long trailing skirts, which they do not care to hold up out of the dirt, but with which they sweep the pavement. Can it be said that this is good taste? Assuredly not. It could not well be worse.
The question of station and of means does not seem to rule the world in general. Everything is considered to be suited to every body; and the maid-of-all-work does not hesitate to copy, to the utmost extent of her power, the dress of the greatest lady in the land. She does not see why she should not dress as she likes, and is not restrained in her wish by good taste. We do not wish to argue in favour of any monopoly, but we confess that we should like to see people of all classes regulated by good taste in matters of dress.
On the Continent we find the evils we complain of partially remedied by national costumes; but these are fast diminishing, and are only to be found in all their perfection in those parts into which the railways have not yet penetrated. Yet, who does not look with pleasure upon the clean white cap of the French servant, or bonne, who goes to market and to church without a bonnet, and with only her thick snow-white cap? Who does not delight in the simplicity of dress which the French, Norman, and Breton peasants still preserve? Contrast it with the dress of our servant-girls, with their crinoline and absurd little bonnets, and say which is the best taste.
After all that can be said there is no doubt that one of the objects of dress should be to enable people to do what they have to do in the best, the most convenient, and the most respectable manner. At all events it should not interfere with their occupation. Did our readers ever see a London housemaid cleaning the doorsteps of a London house? It is a most unedifying sight. As the poor girl kneels and stoops forward to whiten and clean the steps her crinoline goes up as her head goes down, and her person is exposed to the gaze of policemen and errand-boys, who are not slow to chaff her upon the size and shape of her legs. Can this be called dressing in good taste? Would it not be wiser to discard the crinoline altogether till the day’s work is done, and the servants make themselves tidy for their tea and their evening recreation. In some families this is insisted on. But, on the other hand, it is complained against as an infringement upon the liberty of the subject, which is an unreasonable complaint, as the subject may go elsewhere if she dislikes to have her liberty so interfered with.
Good taste in dress is a question which is, by no means, above the consideration of old and elderly women. There are some who never can imagine themselves old. Whether it is owing to the eternal youth of their mind and spirits, or to their vanity, we do not pretend to say; but one thing is certain that again and again have we been both amused and disgusted by the way in which old women dress themselves. A lady with whom we were acquainted used to dress in blue or white gauze or tarlatan, or any light material she could lay her hands on, when she was past _eighty_, and she vainly imagined that, with an affectation of youth in her gait, and with the aid of the rouge-pot, she could conceal her age. She would trip into the room like a young girl, with her light gossamer dress floating around her as if she were some sylph in a ballet. She was a wonderful woman for her age, and, no doubt, had been so accustomed to the remarks that were continually made upon her agility and appearance, that she had at last grown to think herself almost as young as she was _sixty years_ ago. It was but the other day that we saw an old woman with grey hair wearing a little hat placed coquettishly upon her head, with a large chignon of grey hair filling up the back! Sometimes we have seen old women spurning the sober tints which accord with their years, and coming out dressed like Queens of the May in garlands and flowers; and wearing bonnets that would be trying even to a belle of eighteen. But when people resolutely refuse to accept the fact that they are no longer young, it is not surprising that they should run into some extremes, and offend against good taste by dressing in a style utterly unsuited to their years. And yet there is no more pleasing sight than a good-looking old woman, who is neither afraid or ashamed to recognize the fact of her age, and wears the quiet and sober colours which belong to her years, modifying the fashion of the day to suit herself, that she may neither ape the young nor affect to revive in her own person the fashions of by-gone days. Affectation of all kinds is detestable.
So also there are rules for the young, which, if attended to, will prevent their offending against good taste. The young are, of all people, without excuse. The freshness of youth has a beauty of its own which needs but little outward adornment. The ravages of time have not to be repaired. Youth has charms of its own, and the more simply it is attired the better. Everything is in favour of the young. When they adopt elaborate or rich toilets, when they make flower-gardens of their heads, or wear strong and glaring colours, the chances are that they disfigure themselves. A young girl should never make herself conspicuous by her dress. Let it be as good as she pleases, as costly as she can afford, still let it be simple and unobtrusive. Let the general effect be pleasing and grateful to the eye; but at the same time let it be impossible to say in what it consists, or to remember her on account of any peculiarity in it. If she is beautiful, let her dress aid her beauty by not drawing away the attention from it. If she is plain, let her not attract all eyes to her plainness. Let not people say of her, “Did you see that ugly girl with that scarlet feather in her hat?” or, “with that bonnet covered with pearl beads, contrasting with her dark and sallow complexion?” or, “with that bright green gown, which made her look so bilious?”
It is in small things, as well as in great, that good taste shows itself. Well-fitting gloves and boots, things of small moment in themselves, tell of a neat and refined taste. Quiet colours, well assorted; an absence of glare and display, nothing in extremes, betoken a correct eye and good taste.
It is, then, in the harmony of colour; in the use of a few colours at one and the same time; in dressing according to their means, according to their station, as well as according to their age, that people may be said to show their good taste in dress. There are, doubtless, other points of detail which will suggest themselves to the minds of our readers; but we are confident that, if attention is given to the points which it has been our wish to place prominently before them, there will be fewer of those startling peculiarities and eccentricities which offend against good taste.
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III.–FASHION IN DRESS
It is very difficult to say what constitutes Fashion. We allow our French neighbours to prescribe what we shall wear, and at certain seasons of the year, English milliners of any pretension flock to Paris to learn their lesson, and on their return to London, announce to the public and to their customers that they are prepared to exhibit the greatest novelties in style, form, and colour, which they have been able to procure. The variety that is presented, as having been just imported from Paris, convinces us that there exists everywhere, even in the great French capital itself, the greatest possible diversity of taste; and, if we may judge from the extraordinary specimens which are introduced to our notice, we should infer that the Parisian taste is by no means faultless.
We do not mean to insinuate that a really well-dressed Frenchwoman is not better dressed than most English women, or that the French have not a peculiar knack of putting on their clothes to the best advantage; for there is no doubt upon the matter. But, if we maybe allowed to judge from the examples brought over to us in the shape of bonnets and head-dresses, and other articles of a lady’s toilette, we should say that there must be a considerable inclination among our foreign neighbours to what is both gaudy and vulgar.
When anyone complains to a milliner of the style of any of the articles she has on sale, she replies that she is obliged to provide for all kinds of taste; that it would not answer her purpose to limit her supply to those who have a faultless eye; that, in order to make her business succeed, she must be prepared to accommodate all persons, and cater for them all alike, studying to please each individual in whatever way she may be disposed to be pleased, and never presuming to do more than merely suggest some slight improvement or modification. Ladies are apt to take offence at their taste being too severely criticized, and dressmakers do not always find it the easiest possible task to steer clear between securing their own reputation as “artistes” of fashion and good taste, and avoiding giving offence to their patronesses. It is the public who are to blame. When some one remonstrated with Braham for his florid and vulgar style of singing, he replied, it was the people and not he who was at fault. It was alike his duty and interest to please the public, and not to instruct it. He sang to be listened to and encored, not to be hissed and snubbed. It does not answer for any tradesman not to be able to supply what his customers demand.
It is the public who are to blame. If they insist upon being supplied with certain articles of consumption or of dress, the shopkeepers have no alternative but to supply them. If ladies prefer what is ugly and misbecoming, the dressmakers have to make it. It is the old story over again of the demand creating the supply.
There will always be persons who do not know how to dress well; who have ideas of their own to which they are determined to give expression. When they think they are doing their best, and are bent upon astonishing the world, they somehow appear to the worst advantage. They endeavour to rival their neighbours in strength and variety of colours; and, if they see a beautiful woman becomingly dressed, they at once copy that woman, quite regardless of their personal appearance, which may be the least fitted to the style which has taken their fancy. It reminds us of the story of a fashionable shoemaker, who, having made a pair of shoes for a lady who was remarkable for the beautiful shape of her foot, was applied to by another lady to make her a pair exactly similar to Lady So and So’s. The shoemaker looked with dismay at his new customer’s foot, which bore no resemblance whatever to that of her friend. At last he looked up at the lady, shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and said: “Madam, it is impossible; you must bring me a foot like her ladyship’s before I can make a shoe like hers.” The rebuke was well deserved: but his honesty lost him a good customer.
The assortment and choice of colours, though chiefly a matter of taste, is yet under the direction of fashion. At one time one colour predominates, at another time another; while two colours may be used together at one time, which at another are almost interdicted.
There is nothing more capricious, more inexplicable, more wayward, than fashion. It is true that, taken as a whole, there is a certain conformity in the rules it prescribes. For instance, as the crinoline diminishes in size and the area which petticoats cover in their circumference is lessened, so also bonnets have grown smaller, and the enormous plait of hair which has taken the place of the chignon, keeps in countenance the extraordinary length of ladies’ trains.
If any one cares to be amused she might investigate the fashions of by-gone days. The transitions are wonderful, and do not appear to be guided by any rule. Those of the gentlemen are simply absurd. Since the days of Vandyck, there has been nothing attractive in their dress; nothing picturesque. It has been as ugly as possible, and continues to be so. The nearest approximation to anything less hideous than the present fashion is in the “knicker-bockers,” which are generally worn by sporting men and pedestrians–men who shoot, or who are addicted to walking tours. There was an attempt on the part of one or two individuals to introduce them, by means of velvet and silk hose, for evening wear; but the example was not followed, and the swallow-tailed coat still prevails.
In order to dress strictly according to fashion, and to comply with the ever-changing caprice, it is necessary to have a large and well-filled purse, and a wardrobe that is not too extensive; because, as the fashion varies with almost every season, a large number of dresses involves either a great and needless waste of money, or the necessity of always being a little behind the fashion of the day. Besides which, as this capricious goddess has prescribed what shall be worn for driving, for walking, for morning, noon, and night; and demi-toilettes and full-dress toilettes have each their own peculiarities, it really becomes a very serious item of expenditure for such ladies as make it the business of their lives to follow the fashions of the day.
Fashion prescribes rules for all. All classes of society bow, more or less, to her decrees. The fine lady who frequents the Court, as well as the servant-girl who sweeps out the area of a London lodging-house, and all the intermediate classes, are guided by Fashion. Crinolines and bonnets prove this, as well as the length of the skirts which are suffered to trail along in all the dirt and dust of pavement and crossings. It always takes some time before a fashion which has been adopted by the higher orders prevails among the lower; but, if it is a fashion which survives beyond the moment, it invariably finds its way downward in the course of time. Fashion prescribes the size and shape of bonnets, the make of gowns, their length and their size–the number of breadths and gores–the trimmings, the petticoats, which have become like a second gown, and all the other paraphernalia of a lady’s toilette. There is no part of a lady’s dress too minute for her inspection and care and legislation. The colour of gloves, the dye of hair, the application of false hair, the make of boots and shoes, the choice of ornaments, are all ordered and arranged. Fashion is a sort of “act of uniformity,” which would bring all flights of fancy within certain prescribed limits. It defines the boundaries within which ladies may safely indulge their own conceits.
The best-dressed persons are not always those who are led blindfold by the prevailing fashion, nor by any means those who are strong-minded enough to defy it, and set it at nought. Any one who defies the fashion of the day, and, when long skirts and small saucer-like bonnets prevail, dares to walk abroad with very short petticoats, which she holds up unnecessarily high; displaying a foot and ankle that had better be hidden out of sight; who spurns a crinoline, and therefore looks like a whipping post; who wears a many-coloured shawl because cloaks and mantles are the rage; who adorns her head with a bonnet that is of the coal-scuttle cut, over which she fastens a large, coloured gauze veil, because she desires to protest, as far as she can, against the innovations of fashion; such a one will never attract, nor influence the public mind. She will provoke a smile, but will never recommend her own peculiar and independent style of dress. And she who follows fashion like a slave, wears what is prescribed without regard to her own personal appearance; who considers neither her age, nor her figure, nor her station, nor her means; who simply allows herself to be an advertisement for the milliner she employs, will often appear eccentric, and generally ill-dressed.
It is never sufficiently considered that every one has her “points,” and that nothing so much offends as discrepancies. We remember a discussion upon female beauty, when instances were brought forward of persons who were conspicuous for their good looks, but who could not boast of one really perfect feature. The effect of the “tout ensemble” was good, and most attractive, but when the faces were pulled to pieces, it was impossible to say in what the beauty consisted. One of the critics wisely said, that it was to be found in the perfect harmony of feature and expression. All the features were on the same scale; no one feature overpowered the other, and the expression called into activity all features alike, so that there was perfect unity and harmony throughout. To compare small things with great, we should say that this supplies a good rule for dressing well. There should be no discrepancies. It should be harmonious, not only in itself, but harmonious with the person whom it is intended to adorn. It should be in keeping with face and figure. No two persons are exactly alike. Every one has her “points,” which constitute her beauty and her charm; and these “points” have to be attended to carefully. A woman who does this, with due regard to the rules of fashion, will always be well dressed. She will not buy or wear a thing simply because it has “just come from Paris,” nor be influenced by milliners and shopmen who assure her that the ugly article they exhibit is original in shape and style. Though fashion dictates, and she follows, yet she follows in a way of her own. She is never behind fashion, and never in advance of it. Perhaps her most admired “toilette” has been made at home, under her own eye, which has directed how far a compliance with the prevailing fashion suits her. She does not startle the world with a combination of strange colours, nor entertain her friends with a peculiarity of style and make. What she wears is prettily arranged, well made and well put on, and the effect is both pleasing and refreshing, and people inquire what house in Paris she patronizes. She is prudent; and, keeping her own secret, does not offend the fastidiousness of her fashionable friends by letting the truth eke out, that her much-admired Parisian “toilette” is, in every sense, of home-produce, but smiles at their approval, and follows her own plan, which is so successful in its results. Her costume is not expensive, and she contrives that, whatever she wears shall not offend against the laws of Fashion, while she declines to be its slave. She is not addicted to sham jewellery; she has no weakness for tinsel. What she wears is good of its kind, even when it is not costly. Wherever she goes, she impresses everyone with the fact that she is a true gentlewoman. She knows what is suited to her station and age, and, without conceit, understands what are her “points.” She is well aware that no woman can afford to be indifferent to her personal appearance, and that no law, human or divine, requires her to disfigure herself. A married woman has to bear in mind that she must dress not only to please her husband, but also to reflect credit upon his choice. The unmarried to impart to herself as prepossessing an appearance as will be likely to attract the opposite sex. Neither before or after marriage can any woman neglect her person with impunity. Nor can she set her face entirely against the fashions of the day. She may modify them to suit herself, and to bring out her “points;” but she cannot safely disregard or defy them.
Fashion gives, as it were, the key-note–supplies the hint, which is taken and followed as people can. It is absurd to suppose that its laws are stringent, and not elastic, or that all persons must conform exactly to its “dicta.” Who shall say that all must dress alike? Tall and short, fat and lean, stout and scraggy, cannot be made equally subject to the same rule. In such a matter as dress there must be some margin allowed for individual peculiarities. Nature has not made us all in the same mould; and we must be careful not to affront nature, but must accept her gifts and make the best of them.
There is one point connected with the following of fashion which requires some attention, and which, if attended to, will preserve us from incongruities. We allude to the disposition of some persons to use various fashions together. They are inclined to be “_eclectic_.” They select from by-gone fashions, and endeavour to blend them with those which prevail. The result is a painful incongruity. Who would dream of placing a Grecian portico to an Elizabethan building? Why then endeavour to combine old fashions with new? Why attempt to wear a bonnet of almost primitive form with dresses of modern dimensions and style? or why wear flounces when they are out of fashion, and full skirts when everything is _”gored”_ into plainness? It is necessary to pay some attention to the present style of dress, if ladies desire to avoid peculiarities and wish to please. But it, of course, requires a certain sense of propriety and of fitness. A bonnet of diminutive form which suits to perfection a young girl with a small oval face and slender throat, is quite misapplied when adopted by a woman of a certain age, whose figure has escaped beyond the limits of even “embonpoint,” whose throat is not perceptible, and whose face and head are large. She requires something of more ample dimensions, that bears some affinity in size with the head and face it is intended to ornament; something which will modify, if not conceal, the imperfections which time has developed. A dress of a light and airy kind does not become a matron; nor can that which suits a slight and elastic figure be worn with impunity by what is called a “comely dame.”
Fashion prescribes all sorts of rules about breadths, gores, flounces, and such like, and these are the hints which she gives, and which ladies must take and apply to themselves to the best advantage. There is ample margin allowed for each one to adopt what is best suited to her own particular style of beauty. Perhaps there never was a time when so much liberty was allowed to ladies to dress according to their own fancy. Of course we mean within certain limits. If any one will consent to keep within those limits, and not do actual violence to the decrees of fashion, she may, to a considerable degree, follow her own fancy. If the general idea which fashion has submitted to society as the sine qua non of being well dressed is borne in mind, she is very tolerant of the various modifications which ladies, for the most part, wisely adopt, that they may not make “guys” of themselves. Nothing illustrates this more than the hats and bonnets which are worn. Their variety is so great that their names might be termed “legion;” and a pretty woman may adopt all kinds of conceits, providing she neither offends the eye nor defies the prevailing fashion. One may come out as a shepherdess, another like a Spanish cavalier in the time of Charles the Second, another with a three-cornered hat such as state-coachmen wear on “drawing-room days,” only of course a very small edition of it; another with a little coquettish hat that suggests one of Watteau’s most successful pictures; but no one may wear one of those large mushroom bonnets which were worn some five-and-thirty years ago, and which were ornamented by large bows of ribbon stiffened with wire, and by great nosegays of flowers which resembled a garden flower-pot. It is only on condition that no violence is done to the decrees of fashion or to the ideas she would suggest, that so much liberty is allowed. We think that the result is most satisfactory, as there is an infinite variety to please the eye, and there are abundant opportunities for every one to attend to her own comfort and ease. Of course there have been, and still are, certain fashions which are quite “dirigueur” among the really fashionable world, and which are annoying to the public generally, such as large crinolines and long skirts, and more especially the long trains which are now in vogue. Crinolines, though reduced in size, are not discarded, except in some instances which, as our eyes are not yet accustomed to their absence, present a scarcely decent appearance.
One word more before we close this division of our subject. If persons are inclined to rail against Fashion and denounce it, let them remember that there is a fashion in everything. In thought, in politics, in physic, in art, in architecture, in science, in speech, in language, and even in religion we find fashion to have a guiding and governing power. How can we otherwise account for the change which has taken place in language, which is not the same that it was fifty years ago? There are phrases which have become obsolete; there are words which have been almost lost out of our vocabulary, which have changed their meaning, or which fashion has tabooed. And in other matters we find alterations which can only be accounted for by the fact that fashions change. They are not the result of development simply, which may and must frequently occur in sciences; but they are the result of those variations in custom and usage for which it is impossible to find any more expressive word than that of Fashion. Why then should not dress have its fashions also, and why should not those fashions change as time advances, and why should not fashion rule in this as in other things?
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IV.–EXPENSE OF DRESS.
This is a portion of our subject which awakens the liveliest interest in persons of both sexes. It is the complaint of many men of our times that the dress of women is a very costly affair. The complaint is often made apparently under a sense of wrong, as if they had been made to suffer from it. Some time ago considerable attention was directed to the subject by some letters which appeared in one of the leading journals of the day, in which grave reflections were made upon the exceeding costliness of dress at the present time. It was said to exceed that of any former age, and to be the reason why so many young men flinch from the idea of matrimony. Among these requirements dress occupies a prominent place. The style and variety of dress which is affirmed to be necessary for young ladies in the highest grade of society renders it no easy matter for them to find men both qualified and willing to afford them sufficient funds to procure what custom had created into a necessity. It may be owing to the quantity of material which the dressmakers require in order to make a dress, as well as to the variety which fashion has prescribed. At all events, let people say what they may, we believe that there is no doubt whatever that the expense of dress has become very much greater than it was thirty years ago. A dressmaker could then make a very first-rate gown, suited to any function at Court or elsewhere, for ten or twelve pounds, whereas now the most ordinary gown, suitable to wear only at a family dinner-party, cannot be made for less than fourteen or fifteen pounds. A ball gown will cost eighteen or twenty pounds; and in Paris a thousand francs, (forty pounds,) is considered nothing out of the way; and evening and ball dresses often cost two thousand francs each. It is not surprising then that, if this is the ordinary expense of a lady’s dress, men should hesitate before they embark in matrimony, and add so large an item to their expenditure. We remember to have heard it said that five hundred a year pin-money was a very small allowance for a young married woman; that it would require the most wonderful management to enable her to dress well and keep within her income. Of course every one knows that there are many women who dress upon infinitely less; but we are speaking of those who profess to dress well, and whose position in society requires them to be well dressed.
What then is the reason why dress has become so expensive? Is it because the materials which are in use are costly, or is it because the needlewomen are better paid, and, wages being higher, dressmakers’ charges are also higher in proportion? We do not believe that either of these are the cause; but simply that a larger quantity is required, and that variety has become a “sine-qua-non.” Some years ago the cost