Added to the absurdity of the dress, these little women attempt to discourse on the “latest style”; with their companions or dolls you will hear them imitating the discussions on this subject that they daily hear in the parlor or nursery from their mother; or, still imitating, with a contemptuous toss of their little heads, they will inform their listeners that they “couldn’t think of ’sociating with those girls, because they are not stylish!”
A few days since, as we passed out of a store on Broadway, our attention was arrested by the conversation of two little figures seated in a fine carriage, waiting, doubtless, for mamma to finish her shopping. They were dressed in a style positively overwhelming: their hats were wonders of skill; their gloves had the orthodox number of buttons, with bracelets over them; a dainty handkerchief, suspended from a ring attached by a chain to another ring on the little doll-like fingers,—the dress was simply indescribable. The elder was speaking to the younger, who, scarcely more than a baby, sat demurely by her side: “O, mercy, just look at that horrid little girl who is crossing the street! she has no hoops on, and not a single flounce; no trimming at all on her dress! and, oh, see her gloves; she has only one button! Pshaw, she’s nobody,—not a bit of style!”
The younger lisped a reply, which we lost as we passed on; but it was painful to think of the training they must have received which enabled them at that early age to judge a child of their own years so quickly by the rules of fashionable dress, and because her attire was not in exact accordance with that week’s style, turn from her with contempt as something too low for their notice.
Then, again, how soon a child, taught by daily precept and example, learns to watch her little companions with envious or exultant feeling, as the case may be! How quickly she begins to grow hollow-hearted and deceitful; receiving, as she sees her elders do, a companion with open arms or a welcoming smile; expressing the greatest affection, but the moment she leaves begin to criticise or make unkind remarks.
“I don’t like Nellie one bit, mamma; she’s such a proud, stuck-up thing! I suppose she thought I should feel bad ’cause her dress had more trimming, and was a little newer style than mine. I didn’t let her know that I noticed it. But I do think it real mean, mamma, that she should have nicer things than mine. Papa is twice as rich as her father. It made me mad to see her show off her dress; and she kept looking at mine and sister’s in such a way.”
“I hope, my dear, you were polite to Nellie.”
“O yes! but, mamma, I was awful glad when she left; though I was just as smiling and pleasant as could be to her face.”
“That’s a good girl. You must always be very polite and cordial to your companions, you know. But I must say I think Nellie was quite vain; and you must never show that you are proud of your clothes. I shall go out to-morrow and get you that pretty dress you teased so for, I think!”
“O mamma, I am so glad! And as soon as it is made I’ll go right over and call on Nellie. Won’t she feel bad when she sees my new dress! It will be ever so much prettier than hers.”
And the mother smiled complacently, with never a thought of the wicked feelings she was cultivating in her child. O mothers! how can you be so blind! Both by precept and example you are teaching your children to make dress their idol, and to know very little of anything but that which pertains to fashion; to be envious or contemptuous of their little friends and companions, according as they are dressed better or worse than themselves. Can you ever reflect that God did not commit such treasures to your keeping without meaning some day to call upon you to render up the account of your stewardship? What can you say, when asked how you have trained the young souls given to your care? Can you reply, “We have been instant in season and out of season in teaching them,”—what? To work for the good of others; to learn to do right; in all simplicity to love and obey the Saviour, who, taking a little child in his arms, said, “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Of such? Ah, no! Not of such children as those; you are training to avoid, not evil communications, but unfashionable companions; to look on the outward adorning, and not on the heart.