The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1868-09-08
THE FASHIONABLE WOMAN OF
THE PERIOD.
From The Saturday Review.

From The Saturday ReUie1O.
Among the many odd products of mature
civilization, the fashionable woman is one of
the oldest From first to last she is thoroughly
amazing spectacle; and II we take human lite in
any ealnestness at all. whether individually, as
the passage to an eternal existence the condi-
tion of which depends on what We are here, or
collectively, as the highest thing we know, we
can only look in blank astonishment at the
fashionable woman and her career. She is the
one sole capable member of the human family
without duues and without useful occupation;
the one sole being who might be swept out OF
existence altogether without deranglng the nice
arrangements OF things, or upsettng the Or
dained balance. We know OF no other organic
creation OF which this could be said; but the
fashionable woman is not as other creatures,
being fortunately suI genertS and of a type not
existing elsewhere. Ii we take the mere order
ing OF her days and the employment of her
time as the sign OF her mental state, we may,
perhaps, measure to certain extent, but not
tully, the depth OF inanity into which she has
fallen, and the immensity of her folly. Con-
sidering her as being with the potentiality of
reason of usefulness, and OF thought the actual
result is surely the saddest and the strangest
thing under heaven.
She goes to bed at dawn aud does not attempt
to rise till about noon. For the most part she
breakfasts in bed, and then amuses herself
with a cursory glance at the morning paper, if
she has sufficient energy Tor SO great mental
eXeItiOn; IL she has not, she lies for another
hour or two in that halt-slumberous state which
is so destructive To mind and body weakening
both fibre and resolution both muscle and good
principle. At last she rises lauguidy, to be
dressed in time for luncheon and her visitors,
il she receives generally; or for the one or two
intimates, If she is at home only to the favored.
Somewhere about she dresses again for her
drive-for the first part OF the days serious
business; for paying visits and leaving cards; for
buying jewelry and dresses, and ordering all
sorts of unnecessary things at her mlliner's;
for this grand lady's afternoon tea, and that
grand lady's afternoon at home, with music; fer
her final slow parade in the Park, where she
sees her friends as in an open-air drawing room,
makes private appointments, and carries on
hirtations, aud hears and rstails gossip and
scandal OF fuller flavor. Then home, 10 dress
again for dinner; to be followed by the opera or
concert S0ree, or perhaps ball or two;
whence she returns towards morning, flushed
with excitement or worn out with fatigue,
feVerish or nervous, as she has mad pleasure and
success or disappointment and annoyance. This
ls 1er outside life, and this is no fancy picture
and no exaggeration. Alter a certain time
OF such au existence, eau we wonder
II her compile xion iades and her eyes
grow dim and II that iueXpressible air of hag-
gard WEAKNESS creeps over her, which ages
even young girl, and makes a mature woman
substantially an old one? 1t is then that she
has recourse to those foul and fatal expedients
OF which we have heard more than enough in
these latter DAYS. She will not try simplicity of
living, natural bours, wholesome occupation
unseltsh endeavors, but rushes off for help TO
paints and cosmetics, to stimulants and drugs,
and attempts to restore the tarnished freshness
OF her beauty oy the very means which further
coIrode 1t. Every now and theo, for very idle
ness she feigns herself sick, and has the favo-
rite physician TO attend her. In fact, the
funniest thing about her is the ease with which
she takes to her bed on the slightest provo.
cation, and the strange pleasure she seems to
find in what is a penance to most women. You
meet her in heated, crowded, noisy room.
looking just as che always looks, whatever her
normal state Of health may be; and in answer
to your inquiries she tells you she has only two
hours ago left her bed to come here, having been
confined to her loom for a week, or so many
days, with DR.. Blank in close attendance. II
you are an intimate female friend she will
whisper you the name Of her malady, which 10