While the languid, low voice, and deliberate manner of the invalid lady may suggest refinement to the casual observer, the discriminating physician who probes the soul, as well as the body, finds a marvellous correspondence between them.
Not only is it true that, in extreme cases of physical exhaustion, the mind gives way with the body, but those keen, exquisite sensibilities of the soul become weak and blunt. No physician of large experience will fail to recal instances of extreme hemorrhagic exhaustion, in which all sense of modesty disappears.
a.s.suming that the highest possible health of the body is represented by 100, and the lowest possible by the figure 1, and a.s.suming, what no physiologist or metaphysician will question, that the head and heart keep step with the body, we shall not hesitate long in determining the state of the mind and soul of the fashionable, languid, nervous lady whom we meet in America at every turn, and who ranges from 10 to 50 on our scale.
It is but natural that she should be occupied with tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, and feel no interest in the great social and moral movements of the day.
Caeteris paribus, a young woman whose physical health is represented by 80 on our scale, has twice as much feminine delicacy and character as another whose health is represented by 40. If this is not a logical deduction from the laws of physiology and metaphysics, I know of nothing that is. While, as already suggested, every discriminating physician is constantly called upon to listen to the harmony between the body and the soul.
The notion that delicacy of the body indicates delicacy of the body indicates delicacy of the mind and heart, contributes more to the fashion of delicacy than all other influences.
Miss Leonora, observing that Bridget O'Flaherty, the scrub-girl, who is ignorant and coa.r.s.e, has a large waist and a powerful chest, and that Miss Seraphina Flamingo, who is a perfect angel, has a fragile, delicate form, draws the inference that a woman with a strong body is ignorant and coa.r.s.e, while a sylphlike form signifies the spirituel.
Besides this, a strong, muscular body is a.s.sociated with work, with a servant; while Miss Leonora is not long in discovering that the mistresses,--the ladies,--are pale and sickly.
Don't you see now how it is? To have a strong and muscular body is to be suspected of work, of service; while a frail, delicate personnel is a proof of position, of ladyhood.
Go through the town and observe the women. Are any of the fashionable ladies strong and muscular? Not one! Are any of them able to perform hard work? Not one! But there are women who do hard work, very hard work. They are not ladies, they are servants! The ladies are delicate. The servants are strong. Don't you see what a plain case it is? Miss Leonora desires, above all things, to be a lady, and to be always, and everywhere, and immediately recognized as a lady. How clear it is that the one, unmistakable, conclusive proof is, that she should look and move like a lady. If she looks strong, and moves with a will, she will be mistaken for a worker, for a servant. If she looks delicate, and moves languidly, it will be seen at once that she does not belong to the working cla.s.s.
It is true that many strong, muscular women are coa.r.s.e and ignorant; they have given their lives to hard work, and have been denied all opportunities to cultivate their minds and manners. To compare such with the petted, pampered daughters of social and intellectual opportunity, and then to treat the strong body of the one as the source of the coa.r.s.eness and ignorance within, and, in the other case, to treat the weak, delicate body as the source of the fine culture, is to reason like an idiot.
In order to arrive at anything like a fair ill.u.s.tration of the influence of health upon the mind and temper, we must visit a family in which there are daughters in sparkling health, and others who are languid and delicate.
We visited such a family, in a neighboring state, three summers since, and shall never forget our observations and experiences. The oldest daughter was delicate. The youngest two were likewise sensitive and delicate. But there were two girls who were in fine health.
When the stage stopped at the gate, the girls, who were expecting us, came out on the piazza, and the healthy ones came rushing down to the gate, and threw their arms around one of us, nearly smothering that one with kisses, (I shall not tell you whether it was my wife, or myself,) while they shook hands most cordially with the other one. They took hold of our hands and fairly danced us up the walk. On reaching the piazza, we were very cordially and languidly welcomed by the other girls.
During our stay, the well girls ran over constantly. They devised and executed scores of little plans for our amus.e.m.e.nt, while the Misses Languid were the recipients of attentions from us all. The Misses Vigorous ran over and flooded us all, while the Misses Languid absorbed from us all.
Never have I more fully realized the common saying, that "sickness is selfish." The Misses Vigorous had enough for themselves and all the rest of us. The Misses Languid had nothing to spare, and were constant borrowers and beggars. Do you imagine the well girls were less lovely, less beautiful in heart and soul, than the delicate ones?
Or, if you prefer, do you think a young lady who leaves the city in June for the mountains, pale, nervous, unhappy, hardly able to take care of herself, unable to even think of anything but her own wretchedness, do you think her more lovely than when, returning in October, she comes bounding in, all radiant with joy, and full of sympathy and helpfulness?
FASHIONABLE SUFFERINGS.
So determined is the esprit du corps of the fashionables, that ambitious young ladies secretly pride themselves upon the attainment of womanly weaknesses.
There are certain "female weaknesses" which one would think young ladies might hesitate to mention; but so strong is this secret pride in the signs of ladyhood, that many fashionable young ladies go over the details with real pleasure.
I once heard a conversation between an invalid aunt and four young ladies. The young ladies were all unmarried, and the oldest not above twenty-three. The aunt was a successful compet.i.tor in the race for number and intensity of sufferings, and embraced every opportunity to make a tabular statement. Her spine was the favorite theme. The burning, the pain, the sharp and indescribable dartings and excruciating tortures were something fearful to hear. But the girls constantly interrupted her with saying, "That is just the way I feel;" and, "I have exactly that pain;" and, "precisely, I have had that pain for months."
The aunt replied, "Now, girls, don't tell me that. It isn't possible for you to have such afflictions at your age." But they declared, with sparkling eyes, that every one of the sufferings she had described,--every one of them,--they enjoyed in the most dreadful way. The aunt enjoyed another cla.s.s of affections, upon which she lingered with real gusto. I do not feel at liberty to go into particulars; but here again the young ladies were enough for her.
They declared, without flinching, that every one of her sufferings, they had, and what was more, they had certain horrible variations which they described, and which, in fact, I thought rather outdid the poor aunt. Aunt spoke of her headache in the most brilliant style; but here the girls were not to be beaten. In fact, it was neck and neck to the end.
I have heard conversations of another sort which are pertinent in this discussion. A strong country woman, accustomed to work in the garden, and to take long walks, mentions to a group of fashionable young ladies, that she has just walked six miles. "Wonderful!
dreadful! is it possible? Why, I couldn't walk six miles to save my life." Perhaps the country aunt says, "I finished a large washing before leaving, and hung the clothes upon the line." Miss Araminta exclaims, "I never washed anything in my life. Why, how is it done?
and how dreadful it looks to see all sorts of clothes hanging out in a yard."
The common affectation of ignorance of all useful work is another ill.u.s.tration. A young lady sometimes knows how to make certain rare and delicate cake, but she never knows how to make bread; she knows how to make pink dogs in worsted, but not how to make a shirt. She knows how to crochet, but not how to make garments for herself or her brothers; and thus on through the whole list. She knows nothing whatever of useful work, in which the body and heart may be brought into earnest, womanly play.
My dear girls, I could show you in this city a sight, which would make you sick at heart. I know a home, in which you could see, on any day, just before dinner, a pale, thin, overworked mother hurrying to and fro in her kitchen, and in the parlor overhead four daughters. One young lady is playing the piano (cla.s.sical music), and the others are crocheting, tatting, and feasting upon the "Awful Secret of the Mysterious Milk-Maid," and one other thing--waiting to be called to dinner. And, although the mother generally thinks it very hard, I have known many cases where she joined in, and really advocated this plan of bringing up daughters.
You may hear such a mother exclaim, "Well, I don't care; my girls shan't be worked to death as I have been. Let them have an easy time while they can; their turn will come soon enough."
So they screw up their waists, recline upon a couch, and ponder the "Fearful Doom of the Mysterious Count," and thus get ready to take their turn. Thousands of young ladies, in this city, are being trained for wives and mothers by such means.
WOMAN TORTURES HER BODY.
Here I want to group the outrages which woman perpetrates upon her beautiful body.
To begin at the top, she almost never permits her hair an opportunity to display its natural beauty. At the present moment, a ma.s.s of j.a.panese bark, or false hair, or some other foreign stuff, full of uncleanness, is piled upon the top of the head, while her own natural hair is twisted, and turned, and pinned, and broken, and ruined in doing subordinate, menial service to the dirty foreign intruder. Besides this, her hair is bedaubed with nameless and dirty greases and oils.
I asked one of the largest retail druggists in this city, "What one article, or line of goods, do you sell most of?"
He replied, without a moment's hesitation, "Preparations for the complexion." These preparations have for their bases three or four deadly poisons. Thousands upon thousands of bottles and boxes are used by the women of Boston every year.
Those glands which, in the economy of nature, are appointed to the most sacred and precious of maternal duties and privileges, are, by the pressure and heat of large artificial pads, almost uniformly ruined. A dressmaker a.s.sured me that she very rarely made a dress in which the bust was not padded. The heat and pressure soon spoil the glands.
She bores holes in her ears, and hangs in various trinkets.
In this place I shall not speak at length of that culminating outrage upon woman's body, known as lacing; (not in your case, dear reader, of course, but among your friends.) Look about you, and see what a hideous distortion of the beautiful Greek Slave you see in living figures.
Below the waist there are enormous paddings, which heat and injure the spine.
Below the knee, a ligature, seriously checking the circulation of the feet.
Reaching the feet, we find in the fashionable shoe an ingenious torture. What with the narrow soles and the high heels, the foot is rendered almost helpless, while the ankles are made so weak, that "turning the ankle" is a common occurrence.
In this category I have by no means included all the body tortures in which women indulge; but I have included all that can be properly spoken of in a work which is designed for general reading. Modesty forbids the mention of two or three methods of body torture, in which fashionable women very generally indulge.
STOCKING SUPPORTERS.
Girls, I do not blame you for wishing to keep your stockings smooth.
Nothing looks more "shif'less" than stockings in wrinkles. How shall they be kept smooth? The means usually employed, is to apply a ligature just below the knee. If the calf of the leg be very large, the knee small, and the circulation of the feet vigorous, I suppose an elastic garter may be used, to keep the stocking smooth, without serious injury. But, as most American girls have slender legs, as there is but little enlargement at the calf, the pressure of the garter required to keep the stocking in position, is very injurious.
It produces absorption of important muscles, and, therefore, weakness of the legs; a lack of circulation, and, therefore, coldness of the feet. The stocking must be drawn up and held. How shall it be done?
Let me ill.u.s.trate. In attaching a horse to a load, we never draw a strap about its body and attach to that for draft purposes, but we seek some part of the body where the draft may come at right angles, or nearly so. That we find at the shoulder, and it is the only part of the animal upon which, without great harm, a considerable draft may be made.
When we wish to support the several pounds of skirts, the stockings, or any other garment, we look over the woman's body, to determine at what point such support, or draft, if you please, may be applied. To apply it about her legs, or about her waist, is precisely the same mistake that would be made if the draft were attached to the girth of the harness. There is only one point of support, and that is her shoulder.
In another part of this work I have discussed, in detail, the straps applied to the shoulder in supporting the skirts.