Part 11 (1/2)

Fas.h.i.+on and Vice.--Let us glance at the second manner in which dress lends its influence to vice, by obstructing the normal functions of the body. 1. Fas.h.i.+on requires a woman to compress her waist with bands or corsets. In consequence, the circulation of the blood toward the heart is obstructed. The venous blood is crowded back into the delicate organs of generation. Congestion ensues, and with it, through reflex action, the unnatural excitement of the animal propensities. 2. The manner of wearing the clothing, suspending several heavy garments from the hips, increases the same difficulty by bringing too large a share of clothing where it is least needed, thus generating unnatural local heat. 3. The custom of clothing the feet and limbs so thinly that they are exposed to constant chilling, by still further unbalancing the circulation, adds another element to increase the local mischief.

All of these causes combined, operating almost constantly,--with others that might be mentioned,--produce permanent local congestions, with ovarian and uterine derangements. The latter affections have long been recognized as the chief pathological condition in hysteria, and especially in that peculiar form of disease known as _nymphomania_, under the excitement of which a young woman, naturally chaste and modest, may be impelled to the commission of the most wanton acts. The pernicious influence of fas.h.i.+onable dress in occasioning this disorder cannot be doubted.

Reform in Dress Needed.--The remedy for these evils, the only way to escape them, is reformation. The dress must be so adjusted to the body that every organ will be allowed free movement. No corset, band, belt, or other means of constriction, should impede the circulation. Garments should be suspended from the shoulders by means of a waist, or proper suspenders. The limbs should be as warmly clad as any other portion of the body. How best to secure these requirements of health may be learned from several excellent works on dress reform, any of which can be readily obtained of the publishers of this work or their agents.

Fas.h.i.+onable Dissipation.--The influence of so important an agent for evil in this direction as fas.h.i.+onable dissipation, cannot be ignored.

By fas.h.i.+onable dissipation we mean that cla.s.s of excesses in the indulgence in which certain cla.s.ses, usually the more wealthy or aristocratic, pride themselves. Among this cla.s.s of persons a man who is known to be a common drunkard would not be recognized; such a person would be carefully shunned; yet a total abstainer would be avoided with almost equal care, and would be regarded as a fanatic or an extremist at least. With persons of this cla.s.s, wine-drinking is considered necessary as a matter of propriety. Along with wine are taken the great variety of highly seasoned foods, spices, and condiments in profusion, with rich meats and all sorts of delicacies, rich desserts, etc., which can hardly be considered much less harmful than stimulants of a more generally recognized character.

These indulgences excite that part of the system which generally needs restraint rather than stimulation. A partic.i.p.ant, an ex-governor, recently described to us a grand political dinner given in honor of a noted American citizen, which began at 5 P.M., and continued until nearly midnight, continuous courses of foods, wines, etc., being served for nearly six hours. Similar scenes have been enacted in a score of our large cities for the same ostensible purpose. Knowing that public men are addicted to such gormandizing on numerous occasions, we do not wonder that so many of them are men of loose morals.

The tendency of luxury is toward demoralization. Rome never became dissipated and corrupt until her citizens became wealthy, and adopted luxurious modes of living. Nothing is much more conducive to sound morals than full occupation of the mind with useful labor. Fas.h.i.+onable idleness is a foe to virtue. The young man or the young woman who wastes the precious hours of life in listless dreaming, or in that sort of senseless twaddle which forms the bulk of the conversation in some circles, is in very great danger of demoralization. Many of the usages and customs of fas.h.i.+onable society seem to open the door to vice, and to insidiously, and at first unconsciously, lead the young and inexperienced away from the paths of purity and virtue. There is good evidence that the amount of immorality among what are known as the higher cla.s.ses is every year increasing. Every now and then a scandal in high life comes to the surface; but the great ma.s.s of corruption is effectually hidden from the general public. Open profligacy is of course frowned upon in all respectable circles; and yet wealth and accomplishments will cover a mult.i.tude of sins.

This freedom allowed to the vile and vicious is one of the worst features of fas.h.i.+onable society. Such persons carry about them a moral atmosphere more deadly than the dreaded upas-tree.

Round Dances.--Whatever apologies may be offered for other forms of the dance as means of exercise under certain restrictions, employed as a form of calisthenics, no such excuse can be framed in defense of ”round dances,” especially of the waltz. In addition to the a.s.sociated dissipation, late hours, fas.h.i.+onable dressing, midnight feasting, exposures through excessive exertions and improper dress, etc., it can be shown most clearly that dancing has a direct influence in stimulating the pa.s.sions and provoking unchaste desires, which too often lead to unchaste acts, and are in themselves violations of the requirements of strict morality, and productive of injury to both mind and body.

Said the renowned Petrarch, ”The dance is the spur of l.u.s.t--a circle of which the devil himself is the center. Many women that use it have come dishonest home, most indifferent, none better.”

We cannot do better than to quote on this subject from a little work ent.i.tled, ”The Dance of Death,” the author of which has given a great amount of attention to this subject, and presents its evils in a very forcible light, as follows:--

”A score of forms whirl swiftly before us under the softened gaslight.

I say a score of _forms_--but each is double--they would have made two score before the dancing began. Twenty floating visions--each male and female. Twenty women, knit and growing to as many men, undulate, sway, and swirl giddily before us, keeping time with the delirious melody of piano, harp, and violin.

”But draw nearer--let us see how this miracle is accomplished. Do you mark yonder couple who seem to excel the rest in grace and ardor. Let us take this couple for a sample. He is stalwart, agile, mighty; she is tall, supple, lithe, and how beautiful in form and feature! Her head rests upon his shoulder, her face is upturned to his; her naked arm is almost around his neck; her swelling breast heaves tumultuously against his; face to face they whirl, his limbs interwoven with her limbs; with strong right arm about her yielding waist, he presses her to him till every curve in the contour of her lovely body thrills with the amorous contact. Her eyes look into his, but she sees nothing; the soft music fills the room, but she hears nothing; swiftly he whirls her from the floor or bends her frail body to and fro in his embrace.

”With a last, low wail the music ceases. Her swooning senses come back to life. Ah, must it be! Yes; her companion releases her from his embrace.

Leaning wearily upon his arm, the rapture faded from her eye, the flush dying from her cheek--enervated, limp, listless, worn out--she is led to a seat, there to recover from her delirium and gather her energies as best she may in the s.p.a.ce of five minutes, after which she must yield her body to a new embrace.”

”And now tell me, friend of mine, did you not recognize an old acquaintance in the lady we have been watching so closely? No! Then believe me; she is no other than the 'pure and lovely girl' you so much admired earlier in the evening, the so desirable wife, the angel who was to 'haunt your dreams.'”

The author just quoted publishes in his little work a letter from a woman of great ability and strength of mind, of unblemished character and national reputation, written in response to his request for her opinion of the dance. The statements made in this remarkable letter are so clear and convincing that every parent ought to read it. We quote the chief portions as follows:--

”'I will venture to lay bare a young girl's heart and mind by giving you my own experience in the days when I waltzed.

”'In those times I cared little for Polka or Varsovienne, and still less for the old-fas.h.i.+oned ”Money Musk” or ”Virginia Reel,” and wondered what people could find to admire in those ”slow dances.” But in the soft floating of the waltz I found a strange pleasure, rather difficult to intelligibly describe. The mere antic.i.p.ation fluttered my pulse, and when my partner approached to claim my promised hand for the dance, I felt my cheeks glow a little sometimes, and I could not look him in the eyes with the same frank gayety as heretofore.

”'But the climax of my confusion was reached when, folded in his warm embrace, and giddy with the whirl, a strange, sweet thrill would shake me from head to foot, leaving me weak and almost powerless, and really almost obliged to depend for support upon the arm which encircled me.

If my partner failed from ignorance, lack of skill, or innocence, to arouse these, to me, most pleasurable sensations, I did not dance with him the second time.

”'I am speaking openly and frankly, and when I say that I did not understand what I felt, or what were the real and greatest pleasures I derived from this so-called dancing, I expect to be believed. But if my cheeks grew red with uncomprehended pleasure then, they grow pale with shame to-day when I think of it all. It was the physical emotions engendered by the contact of strong men that I was enamored of--not of the dance, nor even of the men themselves.

”'Thus I became abnormally developed in my lowest nature. I grew bolder, and from being able to return shy glances at first, was soon able to meet more daring ones, until the waltz became to me and whomsoever danced with me, one lingering, sweet, and purely sensual pleasure, where heart beat against heart, hand was held in hand, and eyes looked burning words which lips dared not speak.

”'All this while no one said to me, You do wrong; so I dreamed of sweet words whispered during the dance, and often felt while alone a thrill of joy indescribable yet overpowering when my mind would turn from my studies to remember a piece of temerity of unusual grandeur on the part of one or another of my cavaliers.

”'Girls talk to each other. I was still a school girl, although mixing so much with the world. We talked together. We read romances that fed our romantic pa.s.sions on seasoned food, and none but ourselves knew what subjects we discussed. Had our parents heard us, they would have considered us on the high road to ruin.

”'Yet we had been taught that it was right to dance; our parents did it, our friends did, and we were permitted. I will say also that all the girls with whom I a.s.sociated, with the exception of one, had much the same experience in dancing; felt the same strangely sweet emotions, and felt that almost imperative necessity for a closer communion than that which even the freedom of a waltz permits, without knowing exactly why, or even comprehending what.