The sums of money lavished on dress (nor is the reproach confined to the weaker sex) is also a disgrace to Christian profession in a land where poverty abounds. I have heard that a lady (I am glad to say not British) boasted that she spent a thousand a year on dress. She would hardly have uttered that boast had she realized that upon her at that moment was resting the eye of Him who said to the rich young ruler, "Sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven."
It is, indeed, impossible to fix a rule as to how much it is lawful to spend upon dress, as the amount must necessarily vary according to means and station in life; it would be well, however, to determine never to spend money on any mere ornament of the person, without giving at least an equal sum to purchase plain articles of clothing for the poor, to be bestowed "personally." Were this simple plan adopted, one may safely aver that the flannel and serge would be found to bring far more pleasure than the jewel, the lace, or the plume; and luxuries would be gradually relinquished, and that with no feeling of regret, for the richer luxury of clothing the shivering forms of the poor.
"Love of the world" is another evil to which those are peculiarly exposed whose attractions dispose the world to love them. To them there is an added gloss to pleasure; scenes of amusement are brightened by the ready welcome which they ever receive there. The ornaments of society need even more than others to watch and pray lest they enter into temptation, and to seek that grace which alone can keep them "unspotted from the world."
For the "love of admiration" is in many minds not unlike the feverish craving for intoxicating liquor which possesses the habitual drunkard. Eager is the longing for the sweet poison of flattery, the excitement caused by a sense of power over human hearts. And this leads to very serious evil. I am not referring only to the dark descent to actual vice, to which, in thousands of cases, the love of admiration has led; but would earnestly protest against that common effect of it which makes trifling with the happiness of others the favourite amusement of the vain of both sexes, under the name of flirting. One who would not willingly set foot on a worm will often feel actual pleasure in inflicting the keenest pangs. Selfish vanity must be gratified at any cost to others, ungenerous as it is to desire to engross affection which cannot be returned. The man who prides himself on being a "lady-killer," or the beauty who complacently counts up the number of her "conquests," is making an unworthy and sinful use of the endowments of nature. I might quote to such the homely advice of the great Marquis of Montrose,—
"Let no one to more love pretend
Than he has hearts in store;
True love begun should never end—
Love one, and love no more."
But I would rather take higher ground. This pride of beauty, this selfishness of vanity, is "utterly inconsistent" with a Christian character; it is incompatible with the adoption of that spirit of Christ without which we "are none of His." God's people are called to glorify Him in their bodies as well as their souls; and where the beauty which He has bestowed becomes a cause of vanity, selfishness, and folly, its possessor may one day have reason to regret not having been a cretin or a dwarf.
There are two special antidotes to the spiritual poison which is constantly offered to those in whom the world delights. The first is a realization of the transitory nature of that beauty which passes away like a flower; the second is meditation on that beauty which will abide for ever. One great poet has, as it were, written the first on a skull; he preaches his sermon in the churchyard. But it is more pleasant, and at least as profitable, to turn our thoughts from the dust "sown in dishonour" to what it shall be when "raised in glory." We cannot but think that outward beauty will then correspond with that which before was inward; that they who have borne most of the Saviour's image in their hearts will bear most of that image visibly when we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.
Oh, what marvellous changes will appear on the day of the resurrection! The wrinkled face, the decrepit form, the blemish, and the deformity, will then, in God's saints, be exchanged for the brilliancy of immortal beauty, beyond what thought can conceive! But how then will an Absalom appear? Let Nature's favoured ones turn from the looking-glass to God's Word, and test by that mirror of truth both what they are and what they are likely to be; whether their goodliness be but as "the flower of grass which passeth away," or be the faint, dim type of that beauty with which God will clothe His redeemed, who, though now in the world, and perhaps admired and sought after there, are yet (like their Master) "not of the world," nor look for their happiness in its vain pleasures or empty applause.
