The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-05-07

immense applause. ana very puDucly, JAe
precise deeds which our political economist
declares to be impossible Carriages and four
are a daily spectacle liveries are exceedingly
common in our fashionable resorts, even il
those pleasing sins have not reached the
chaste precincts of Cambridge. And if foot
men do not 'stand behind the more modest
equpage' it is because they are seated, with
arms folded, in ''dickey," and look a shade
more miserable than if they stood up. Cooked
hats and gold.headed canes, perhaps, are still
to be imported-the latter, possibly awaiting
the return of specie payments. But livery
is livery, whether the lace be gold or silver
1t is something, no doubt, to have simpli-
fed the patterns General Washingtons
liveries, white turned up with green, we're
doubtless as much more picturesque than
ours as was the Continental uniform than the
dark blue of to-day. The showy English
liveries have never got themselves trans
planted any more than the court dresses or
the judicial wigs. It is doubtful whether
any native American coachman ever wore
knee-breeches if he did, he probably as
sumed a brogue and swore only in Irish as he
tugged them on. But the English and Irish
wear them readily, and indeed rather enjoy
them. We have known an unliveried servant
in family to demand them as his right. as
serting that he had as good leg as Mike
or Patrick, his seniors in command. Indeed,
the arguments in favor of liveres, be they
stronger or weaker, are as we'll understood
by the servant as by the employer. If they
are token of subordination as viewed from
above, theyar mark of dignity as viewed from
below. They imply certain position of
confidence. He who wears livery has thus
far kept what he calls ''his character"
drunken vagabond loses his livery. 1t is like
the uniform of the private soldier-a token
OF lnferiority as regards his captain, but of
dignity as regards civilians. To be stripped
of his uniform is for a soldier the last dis
grace, and the same with the liveried
servant. Then for the employer the
livery is a guarantee against dirt, rags, and
fantastic neokties-it furnishes ready means
of identifying ones own carriage in crowd
and it also helps domestic discipline. Liveries
are very repressive, here again resembling the
soldiers uniform. 1t was found during our
war that the most troublesome recruits settled
down to obedience the day they were put in
uniform. The trouble with these arguments
is that some of them prove too much and
others are afterthoughts. An American do
mestic is not in the position of
private soldier, nor is it desirable that he
should be; that right of command that alb
solute authority which is needful for war
would in peace be intolerable. Moreover
the millionaire and the fine lady do
not, in America, put their servants in
livery for the judicious reasons Just
assigned; they do it commonly because
it is done in Europe. This is shown by the
servile way in which they copy the usages of
foreign t1unkeyism that have least meaning
here; as where a retired grocer decorates his
coachmans hat with the high cockade, which
In England designates the servant of a civil
functlonary, or where a young lady rides in
the Park with groom bearing an inexplicl l.
BILE belt, such as in England sustained the
despatch-box of member of Parliament
We knew young man of fortune, slenderly
provided with wits, who returned from the
grand tour with single piece of valuable
information, namely, that Americans knew
nothing about style, since they allowed their
footmen to wear moustaches, instead of
sternly limiting them, as in England, to side
whiskers. The simple truth is, that most
people put their servants in livery because
they secretly wear livery and are funkeys
themselves.
After all, the line is not so very hard to
draw. In the present state of society "domes-
tic service, as it is called, is in some form
inevitable. There can be no objection to an
employers providing the clothes for a man-
servant, or prescribing what the dress sh all
be-with this one clear limitation, that he
should require no man to wear anything
which he himself would be ashamed to
wear. In our most fashionable resorts
you may generally distinguish the coach
men or footmen of people of sense by
plain suit of black or dark blue, such as
any gentleman might wear in the street
without attracting attention. Already in
England the upper-servants, like Morgan
Pendennis, wear no livery; and George Sand,
in her autobiography, points out with plea
sure that French carriages are now generally
made with seats for the attendants or with
self-opening doors. Aristocratic follies, all
the world over, are being gradually softened,
rather than abruptly removed. Indeed, the
forms often outlve the spirit, as the backs of
our carriages still bear the dangling tassels
by which footmen once held on, and some
times even the bulging boxes which once
held weapons to assist highwaymen. We are
advancing, certainly, though not yet so wholly
rid, as Professor Bowen thinks, of what
Hoods old negro woman calls "our Pompeys
and our vanities."