THE COUNTESS OF WALDEGRAVE ON WOMAN'S DRESS.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2154, 15 November 1867, Page 3

THE COUNTESS OF WALDEGRAVE ON WOMAN'S DRESS.

(Newcastle Daily Chronicle, August 12.)

It is not often that the world is favoured with so much good sense from a woman of eighty as that which was contained iu an address recently delivered at Wigton, by the Venerable Countess of Waldegrave

Bat Lady Waldegrave has probably by this time no relish whatever for the vagaries of fashion. At all events, the neat little speech she addressed to the school girls at Wigton was just an earnest protest against what she herself called "unnecessary and useless finery."

The young girls of the present daj said Lady Waldegrave, were a grea deal too fond of finery. Indeed shi had observed that the passion for finer had been on the increase during a! her life. The gravity of the accusatioi ;ontaiued in this last remark ear icarcely be over-estimated. For eight] r ears our English girls—our mothers iur wives, our daughters—have growi gradually more aud more extravagan n dress! Our grandmothers were bat mough; our mothers and wives wen vorse; but our daughters are worst o dl! Such, stated in other words, ii he result of Lady Waldegrave's ex lerience. And mothers, said her lady hip, are probably a good deal t< ilame for the love of fiuerj ivinced by the present generatior if girls. Instead of endeavouring t( iheck, they sometimes help to eacou■age the passion for tawdry raiment Dhe resources of the girls, and some' imes those of their mothers as well ire wasted in the gratification of ; oolish vanity. " I must say," saic [jady Waldegrave, " I think it a greai nistake on the part of mothers to dress iheir children to the utmost extent ol heir means, instead of inducing their ;o lay by their pence for what is called t rainy day." The result is, that the njstakes made by mothers have after, vards to be corrected, if they are evei :orrected at all, by the more care, 'ul training of the mistresses the girls ire destined to serve. Lady Walde ;rave spoke as a mistress. "While ihildren," she said, "are taught tc ipend all the money they can get to ;ether on little bits of finery, the firs! ;hing a mistress has to t*ach her yount lervant is to dress neatly and properlj md respectably." Lady Waldegravt loped that, the mothers who heard hei vould " earnestly strive to give theii laughters that degree of propriety anc leatness in their dress which is alwayi ■espectable, useful, and efficient." Bui ler ladyship, sensibly as she spok< Then giving advice, was herself nol mperior to the conventicle cant of th< i<*e. We gather the impression fron ler remarks that it was not so muc! inery she abhorred as the finery o )oor'folks. 'Did she not tell her audi mce that "most mistresses wouk (bject to that kind of finen vhich was not suitable to tin itation in which it had pleaset 3-od to place" - servants ? Ii lot extravagant finery objectionable vhatever the rank of the people whe vear it ? That which is a vice in the ervant can hardly be considered a 'irtue in the mistress. Folly is not ess folly because the station in which t has pleased God to place the fool

happens to bean exalted one. Besides, it ought not to be forgotten that the poor learn of the rich, servants of their mistresses, that love of excessive adornment which appears to pervade all ranks of society. Is it not said thot imitation is the sincerest form of flattery? Can mistresses complain if servants should seek to flatter them by imitating even their follies ? Lady Waldegrave condemns the fiuery of the poor; but justice requires that we should also condemn the finery of the rich.

It seems to have become an article of fashionable faith that the happiness of woman depends on the extravagance of her expenditure. The world of fashion, in fact, is engaged in a race of extrayagance, Envious when not emulous of each other, the women of our dayseem, to be anxious to surpass their own friends in the costliness of their array. The fitness of a garment is estimated, not by its appropriateness to the wearer, but by the money it has cost her. When our women appear like confused masses of silk and lace and ribbons, it is easy to see that neatness is accounted vulgar. And the end of this fantastic waste of resources—what it is but the debt aud difficulty of fathers and husbands ? Millinery is all very well in a modest way; but when it leads to the Bankruptcy Court we can quite understand its disastrous effects. The panic which overtook America a few years ago was attributed at the time to the luxurious habits of the mercantile classes. Can we say that no such calamity is likely to overtake ourselves? But extravagance is not only embarrassing—it is immoral, The most luxurious ages are almost invariably the most immoral. What is the luxury of the Empire but au evidence of its debauchery ? The denunciations of M. Dupiu still ring in our ears. Is not Paris, according to one of the most emineut men of France, the "Modern Babylon?" Thither the roues of all nations resort to court the smiles of painted beauties. The ladies of the " beau monde" are elbowed by the ladies of the " demimonde," aud the society of Cora Pearl is almost as much au object of envy as that of the recognised leader of fashion and extravagance. What can save society from the perdition to which it is apparently fast hurrying ? What but an early revival of simpler habits aud tastes! The happiness of the world would be greatly, increased if people of fashion could only be induced to forsake , their ways of extravagant recklessness. Life is really wasted when incessant attention is given to mere outward adorumeut. Extravagance in dress cannot increase the personal comforts of those who abandon themselves to a frivolous display. At the very most it can only afford a rapid and transient pleasure. But the pleasure that shall, endure must be sought through other and better means. Let women, by all means, endeavour to make themselves attractive. But let them beware lest, in seeking to earn the flattery of fools, they lose more than the respect of men of sense—the reward of well-spent lives.