The true citizen. (Waynesboro, Ga.) 1882-current, July 21, 1882, Image 3
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Sentiment.
A Kiss for Sister,
She whs a very littie sjlrl,
And as I bent and kissed her—
“There, that is for yourself," I said,
“And that Is for your sister,”
Ijist night I called In lriendly way—
Some gay girl friends were there,
And laufh and jest went gayly round
To banish weary care.
The little girl came romping In
And unto me said she :
“I dive that tlss to sizzer Bell,
'Ou left lor her wiz me.
“She tissed me lots ’o times an’ said,
When foiksts 'ouldu't see,
I might dive ’em to ’ou—dust wait
'TUI ou’s alone wiz me !”
I blushed, and so did sister Bell,
'lht gay girl friend", ah, me I
I wished them horrid things had been
A thousand miles at sea!
Good desires will be of no avail un
less they lead to good actions. The
seed that does not grow never produces
a harvest. The good desires which do
not develop into active obe iience,soon
pass away, and leave not a trace of
their existence behind. Do not trust,
then, to good desires. Something
more than this is necessary to save a
man.
The Eainy Day.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ;
It rains, and the wind Is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and drei ry.
My life Is cold, and dark and ('reary;
It rains, and the «ind Is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering
past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the day is dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the cloud Is the sun still shining ;
Thy fate Is the common late of all,
Into each lile some rain must fall,
Some days must be long and dreary.
- Longfellow.
It is a certain sign of an evil heart to
be inclined to defamation, for it ever
arises from the lack of what is com-
mendable in one’s self and impatience
of seeing it in others.
Beauty Rules.
“Rule One.—A woman’s power in
the world is measured by her power to
please. Whatever she may wish to
accomplish she will best manage it by
pleasing. A woman’s grand social
aim should be to please.
“And let me tell you howthat is to be
done,” Sophia said, putting her paper
down for a moment. ‘‘A woman can
please the eje by her appearance, her
dress, her face and her figure. She
can please the ear by studying the art
of graceful elocution, not hard to any
of us, for by nature we speak with
finer articulation than you. She can
please the mind by cultivating her
own—so far, at least, as to make her a
good listener, and as much further as
she will; she can please the fancy by
ladies’ wit, of v> hich all of us have a
share. She can please the heart by
amiability. See here,” she continued,
growing graver, “you have the key of
my syste®. Beauty of person is only
one feature of true beauty. Run over
these qualities. See how small a part
personal beauty or the freshness of
youth plays nere. I want you to ob
serve this; for my art would consist
not in making women attractive who
are openly pretty and young, but in
showing them that youth and pretti
ness, though articles of beauty, are
neither the only nor the indispensa
ble articles.”
“Rule Two.—Modesty is the ground
on which all a woman’s obarms ap
pear to the best advantage. In man
ners, dress, conversation, remember
always that modesty must never be
forgotten.”
“Hardly likely to be,” I murmured.
“Is it?”
“Understand me,” answered Sophia
briskly. “I mean modesty in a very
extended sense. There is nowadays a
tendency in women to rebel against
old-fashioned modesty. The doctrine
of Liberty Is spreading among us, for
which I thank God,” Sophia said (she
was the oddest little mixture of Tory
and Whig and Radical ever com
pounded on this eccentrio earth.)
“But the first effects of that doctrine
on our minds are a little confusing.
We are growing more independent and
more individual. Some of us fancy
that to be modest is to be old-fash
ioned, and of course we want
the newest fashion in all thirgs.
I maintain,” Sophia said, growing
a little warm, as if she fancied I might
argue back,“I mbintain that a modest
woman is the reply of my sex to a
brave man—you can no more have a
true woman without modesty than a
true man without courage. But re
member, I use the word modesty in a
high sense ”
“Just what I was going to ask,” I
said.
“Not prudery, she added. “Prudery
is to modesty what brag is to bravery.
Prudery is on the surface ; modesty is
in the soul. Rosalind in her boy’s
suit is delightfully modest, but not,”
Sophia said with a twinkle of her eye
“not very prudish, is she?”
I assented, and thus made way
for—
“Rule Three.—Always dress up to
your age or a little beyond it. Let
your person be the youngest thing
about you, not the oldest.”
“Rule Four.—Remember that what
women admire in themselves is seldom
what men admire in them.”
“In nine drawing-rooms out of ten,”
Sophia said, seeing me give a look of
inquiry as she read this article, “Mi
randa or C irdelia, as novel heroines,
would be voted bores. Women would
say, ‘We utterly decline to accept
these wateiy girls as typical of us; we
want smartness and life ’ I don’t
really care much for Miranda or Cor
delia myself. Now this stems to me
to caution us against trusting too im
plicitly or too far our own notions
about ourselves. Another source of
misunderstanding comes from the
novel-writers. Wearethe Dovel-read-
ers, and the novelist is forced to write
heriones to suit our taste. He does not
want to offend us. Thus it comes
about that even the male novelist is
too often only depicting women’s
women, after alL. And I believe
scores of modern girls are seriously
misled for this very reason. They be
lieve they are finding out what men
think of them, when in truth they are
reading their own notions handed
back to them under a pretty disguise.
“Rule Five.—Women’s beauties are
seldom men’s beauties.
“Whicn,” she remarked, “is an
other form of what I said just now,
only here I speak of personal beauty.
My observation is, that if ten men and
ten women were to go into the same
company, and each sex choose the
prettiest woman there, as they
thought, you would rarely find that
they clioBe the same. If this be so, we
ought not to trust ourselves eveu as to
our faces without considering that the
sex we are to please must in the end
settle the question, and will settle the
question in its own way.
“Rule Six.—Gayety tempered by
seriousness is the happiest manner in
society.
“By which I mean,” Sophia said,
looking at me with knitted brows, as
if she were about to explain some mat
ter not altogether clear to herself “that
in ail our gayety there ought to be a
hint of self-recollection. Do you un
derstand me ?”
“Not quite,” I said.
“This I know certainly,” Bhe re
plied : “the most agreeable women I
have met with—and I think the most
regarded—have been women of rank,
who have been trained with a due re
gard for religion. Their worldly edu-
catibn had made them mindful of
grace and liveliness ; their religious
education kept these qualities under a
particular sort of control, which is per
ceptibly different from mere good
breeding. It seems to me that vivacity
and sprightliness are greatly enhanced
by a vein of seriousness. Certainly no
woman ought to be a mocker.
“Next,” she continued, seeing I did
not speak, “comes—
“Rule Seven.—Always speak low.
“I wonder why I put that down. It
is so obvious. In support of it I need
only quote your Shakespeare, who
calls it ‘an excellent thing in woman.’
“Rule Eight.—A plain woman can
never be pretty. She can always be
fascinating if she takes pains.
“I well remember,” Sophia said,
after reading this, to me, rather ques
tionable assertion, “a man who was a
great admirer of our sex, telling me
that one of the most fascinating
women he had ever known was not
only not pretty, but as to her face de
cidedly plain—ugly, only the word is
rude. I asked my friend, ‘How, then,
did she fascinate?’ I well remember
his reply. ‘Her figure,’said he, ‘was
neat, her dressing was faultless, her
every movement was graceful, her
conversation was clever and animated,
and she always tried to please. It
was not I alone who called her fasci
nating ; she was one of the most ac
ceptable women In society I ever
knew. She married brilliantly, and
her husband, a barrister in large prac
tice, wus devoted to her—more than if
she had been a uueen of beauties.’
“Now here,” Sophia continued, re
suming her own discourse—“here was
a woman, who, excepting a fairly
neat figure, had not a single natural
gift of appearance Is not this worth
our thinking about—those of us women
who oare to please and are not beau
ties born?
“Rule Nine.—Every year a woman
lives the more pains she should take
with her dress
“The dress of us elderly dames,”
Sophia said, laughing, “ought to be
mote of a science than it is. How
often one hears a woman of fifty say,
‘O my dressing days are past!’
When,” adds Sophia, “if she thought
about it, they have only well begun.
At least, the time has come when
dress is more to her than ever. Re
member, from f >rty to sixty-five is a
quarter of a century—the third of a
long life. It is a period through
which the majority of grown-up peo
ple pass. And-yet how little pains
women take—how little thought be
forehand—to be charming then !
“And now,” she went on, seeing I
did not speak, “here comes my last
rule—as yet:
“Rule Ten.—In all things let a
woman ask what will please the men
of sense before she asks what will
please the men of fashion.
‘ I by no means intend,” she added,
“that a woman is not to have regard
to the opinion of men of fashion, only
she should uot give it the first place.
She will carry the men of fashion
sooner by methods that please the
men of sense than men of sense by
methods that please men of fashion.
And besides, listen to the men of fash
ion. They always praise a woman
for things which begin to perish at
twenty five. Even the old men of
seventy will talk of a fine girl—
‘deucedly fine figure!’” (I wish I
could give an idea of Sophia’s slightly
wicked mimicry at this passage.)
“And they will call a woman rather
on the decline, when, if she is on the
decline, where and what are they?
You see if a woman lives for the com
mendation of men of fashion she will,
if pretty, piquant, or what not, have a
reign of ten years. But if she remem
bers that the has charms of mind and
character and taste, as well as charms
of figure and complexion, the men of
sense will follow her for half a cen
tury ; and in the long-run the men of
fashion will be led by the men of
sense.
“And there !” Sophia cried merrily,
throwing the paper down on the rug
beside her—there are my rules for re
forming our little world of women!”
The Church Temporal Statisti
cal and Personal.
The Rev. Joseph C >ok has arrived
in Japan. He delivered a lecture in
the early part of May at the Meiji
Kaido in Tokio under tue auspices of
the Japanese Young Men’s Christian
Association.
The “wickedest woman in E igland”
Jane Johnson, aged eighty-four, has
been converted She has been in Leeds
prison two hundred and forty timep,
and nearly as many limes in other
jails. She is now preaching in Hull.
Tiie total length of fencing in the
the United States is upward of six
million miles, and the cost over £2,000-
000,000. This, Hie Christian Register
says, does not include theological
fences, which are much more expen
sive.
A recent religious census in Prussia
shows that that country contains 17,-
645,462 Protestants, 9,2 )5,136 Catholics,
363,790 Jews, 42,518 Dissenters, and 22,-
006 persons professing no religion.
It is announced that Ihe Advance
(Chicago) has been purchased by a
party _of Boston gentlemen. It wil
have for its Editor Mr. Robert West,
well known as journalist,preacher and
missionary superintendent.
The Synod of the Old Catholic
Church met at Olten in Switerland on
June 2d, under the presidency of
Bishop Herzog. E ghty deputies were
present. The iffieial report respect
ing the progress and prospects of the
Church is pronounced as being highly
satisfactory.
The Home ot the Horse.
There is no doubt that the original
home ot the horse is not Europe, but
Central Asia; for, since the horse in
its natural state depends upon grass
for its nourishment and fleetness for
its weapon, it could not in the begin
ning have thriven and multiplied in
the thick forest-grown teiritory of
Eurojee. Much rather should its place
of propagation be sought in these
steppes where it still roams about in a
wild state. Here, too, arose the first
nations of riders of which we have
historic knowledge, the Mongolians
and the Turks, whose existence even
at this day is as it were combined
with that of the horse. Frcm these
regions the horse spread in all direc
tions, especially into the steppes of
Southern and Southeastern Russia and
iito Thrace, until it finally found en
trance Into the other parts of Europe,
but not until after the immigration of
the people. This assumption is,at least,
strongly favored by the fact that the
farther a district of Europe is from
those Asiatic steppes, i. e., from the
original home of the horse, the latter
does the tamed horse seem to have
mads its historic appearance in it.
The supposition is further confirmed
by the fact that horse-raising among
almost every tribe appears as an art
derived from ntighboring tribes in
the East or Northeast. Even in Home
the ox appears exclusively as the
draught-animal in land operations at
home and in the field, while the horse
was used for purposes of war oDly
Its employment in military operations
was determined by swiftness alone
That the value of the horse must orig
inally have depended upon its fleet-
ness, can easily be inferred from the
name which is repeated in all the
branches of the Indo-European lan
guage, and signifies “hastening,’
“quick.” The same fact is ex
emplitied by the descriptions of the
oldest poets, who, next to its courage
speak most of its swiftness.
The Israelites of Salt Lake City
(about thirty-five families) have united
themselves in a society called Bene
Israel, whose object it is to establish
a non-sectarian school, and also
place for their religious Instructions
as Utah has no puolio schools except
Mormon schools, where the ourriou
lum comprises few subjects besides the
tenets of Mormonism.
The Last ot the French Dandies.
M. Barbey d’Aurevilly writes char
mingly, he talks well but it is his grert
pride and joy to be a fop. He glories
in the name as much as ever George
III. gloried in the name of Briton.
His faith on this subject is all set
down in a great little book of which
Le is tne author, which has Brummel
for the hero of its story. He has des
cribed it as a book “On a Fop, by a
Fop, for Fops.” Foppishness, he de
clares, “is miserably misunderstood ;
it is but a form of vanity, and vanity
is but a form of that desire to please
which is lhe main spring of all good
and of most great actions. It is only
our incurable hypocrisy that keeps us
from owning as much. But we must
distinguish between foppishness and
dandyism: foppishness is the desire to
please others by the cultiva'ion of out
ward graces ; dandyism is rather the
desire to please one’s self. Dandyism
is a special form of vanity of one race,
the English, who surpass all the world
in the power of being themselves.
The Frenchmen may shine as a fop,
but he is far too sympathetic to be a
dandy. He may put on dandyism,
and give himself every morning his
little disgusted air, but it will be only
as he puts on a garment. The distress
ing thing is that the English them
selves do not know what a treasure
they possess in this manifestation of
character. In a certain sense the cloths
have nothing to do with it; it is the
manner of wearing them; it is the
man inside. Lord Spencer in rags
was a dandy, and Brummel one day
in a freak set the fashion of wearing
napless coats by having his own
scraped with glass. The next day
half the coats in London were being
treated in the same way. He intro
duced a glove, and people raved of its
beautiful fit, which showed the very
outline of the nails beneath ; but his
superlative daudj ism was not in the
fit, it was in the fact that he had the
gloves made by five different artists,
one for each linger and one for the
thumb. Byron knew what he was
about when he said that he would
rather be Brummel than Napoleon.
Brummel had all the requisite gifts
of natu^p for his great vocation—ele
gance and a pleasing face ai a matter
of course, with an intense »ang froid
that nothing could discountenance or
disturb, and, above all, a quick intelli
gence, free from the genius that
spoiled many another dandy of that
glorious epoch. This last disturbing
quality gave Sheridan his superabun
dance of wit and his passion, both
fatal to perfect equilibrium of manner,
and it made Byron a dandy only for
one moment, but something else the
next. Brummel was a dandy at all
times. Dandyism introduces the
antique calm in the midBt of modern
agitation; but the calm of the ancients
came from the harmony of the facul
ties, and from the force of a life freely
developed, while the calm of daudy-
ism is the repose of a mind which has
made the tonr of many ideas, and
which is too disgusted for animation.
Brummel was always^.ike tb
faultless dressing and t
guor of his manners distinguished him
as a boy at Eton, and he was known
as “Buck Brummel,” the name of
“Dandy” had yet to be. No other boy
had such influence in the school, ex
cept perhaps George Canning, and his
was an influence of a totally different
order. On leaving Oxford Brummel
went into the Tenth Hussars, com
manded by the Prince of Wales, after
ward George IV , and was naturally
at once taken to the stuffed bosom of
that prince of fops. He possessed
what the Prince must have esteemed
rncst of all human things, “Youth,
brought out iuto strong relief by the
surety and coolness of a man who had
seen life, and who knew he was its
master, the fi iest and the strongest
mixture of impertinence and of res
pect, the geuius of dressing, protected
by a power of repartee that was never
without wit.” Women are aivvays on
the side of force, sounded with their
vermillion lips the fanfare of their ad
miration for Brummel; they were the
trumpets of his glory, but they re
mained that and nothing else. And
herein is the originality of this great
Euglishman. He was not what the
world calls a libertine. In a country
like England it was “piquant” to see
a man, and such a young man, who
combined in himself every conven
tional and every natural charm
punishing women for their pretensions
by abnegation of this sort. Brummel
was a sultan without a handkerchief,
and yet his influence over women was
extraordinary. A duchess was over
heard telling her daughter to pay par
ticular attention to her attitude, ges
tures and speech, if by chance Mr.
Brummel should design to speak to
her. She was right; his notice was
fame, for he never did a common thing.
Thus he gave up dancing almost at
(he outset of his career. He simply
stayed a few minutes at the door of a
ball-room, took the whole thing in at
a glance, judged it with a word, and
disappeared, thus applj ing the famous
principle of dandyism, “in society
never go until you have produced your
tffect; the moment it is produced,
vanish.” He knew his crushing pres
tige. The little treatise wir ds up
curiously; below its last pa&o stands
“Eud of Dandyism and of George
Brummel.” It reads uncommonly
like an epitaph. Such is Barbey
d’Aurevilly, and such is his little gos
pel. There have been worse in each
kind. He believes in it all; and itt
his Old World coat and cuffs, and
fringed tie, he is himself the great
sublime le draws.— London Daily
News.
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Why He Weakened.
In Detroit the other night a police
man saw a man hanging around the
entrance of a Michigan avenue hall in
a queer sort of a way, and he asked
him if he belonged to the order then
in session up stairs. The man repied
that he did and the officer inquired :
“Then, why don’t you go up?”
“Well, I was thinking of it.”
“Haven’t been expelled, have
you?”
“Oh, no.”
“Aren’t afraid of anybody?”
“No.”
“And you haven’t lost your inter
est?”
“I might as well tell you,” said the
man, after beating about a while
longer. “I went down to Toledo a
days ago, and somehow the story
come back here that I was drowned.
My lodge passed resolutions to the
effect that I was honest, upright and
liberal, and a shining ornament, and
that what was its loss was my gain.
I wasn’t drowned, as you see, but I
kind o’ hate to walk in on ’em and
bust those resolutions. I’ve tried it
three times and I can’t get higher up
than the fifth stair before I weaken.”
Pithy.
Punch says Mrs. dropped off to
sle^p iu church last Sunday. On be
ing rallied for it by her husband, she
replied that it must have been owing
to the sootbiDg effect of the full
chloral service!
Angelina (who has never seen a
revolving light before)—“H )w patient
and persevering those sailors must be,
Edwin 1 The wind has blowu that
light out six times sinoe they first lit
It, and they’ye lighted it again eaoh
time.
Professor to classical student:
Atlas supported the world, who sup
ed Atlas?” Student: “The questio
has ofteiebeen asked, but never,
as I am awards, satisfactorily ans
IJiave alway