Carolina watchman. [volume] (Salisbury, N.C.) 1871-1937, 1904-01-04
between her teeth of pearl and her raas

O., -y11S olo SOdheu III lis own
blood. he ordered his servants to carry
HIM to her mausoleum. As the only en-
trance to her retreat left unbarred was a
window, he was drawn up by ropes into
her presence and died. And what became
OF her-,thi actor from the palace? You
know the story. How she tried her charms
upon Octavius Caesar and failed. How the
prospect of being carried a prisoner to
Rome stared her in the face and how,
rather than be lied a captive princess up
the Capitoline Hill" she died by her own
hand. Lacking moral sense, she wore a
face OF brass to the end of the tragedy.
Unlike the sweet-souled Vashti, Cleopatra
had no veil of modesty for her face, and
she asked lone for her soul. Darker than
Egyptian night, she has left a dark stain
upon the brow of universal womanhood!
Winter than the whiteness of the dawn,
Vashti, like Shelley's heroine, clothed in
virtues ~adamantine el%oquence, payes her
path with human hearts,"
Consider, also, that in studying the trag-
eedy OF Vashti, we have to reckon with
her beauty, "for she was fair to look on."
When some genius equal to the task of
writing a history of beauty appears, men
and women will find a perpetual charm in
ITS glowing pages. 1t will contain a page
OF JOY, a page of sorrow. a page of peace,
a page OF war. a page of love, a page of
hate, a page Of poetry and a page of art.
~ = = VIII eon;dla many pages developing
this thought-the tragedy of beauty.
But along with her beauty, Vashti pos
sessed that other quality which lends
beauty an enduring freshness and charm
modesty. Vashti owes her place in history
not SO much to her beauty as to her mod
esty. Ii beauty made her a queen, modes
ty made her a woman, which is far better.
woman. he was defed by her. As queen,
he could and did dethrone: as m
she sits upon a throne that has hearts for
ITS cushions and centuries for its pillars.
The. Dubarrys, the Pompadours, the Mon
tespans have their day and cease to be;
but the Vashtis go on forever. The ely
temnestres, the Aspasias, the Cleopatras
of eternal night; the Vashtis are golden
suns burning through womanhood's end
less day!
Indeed. modesty is so inherent an ele-
ment in the great essentials making genu-
inc beauty that without modesty beauty
is impossible. We are indebted to no hui
man law for this truth-God has woven
it into the fabric of our natures. Art
critics tell us that the eighteenth century
was prominently the century of women.
Then, we are told: Her grace possessed
the most prestige, her coquetry the most
disquieting elegance and her beauty the
most triumphant authority" 1t was the
| age in which Nine. de Pompodour reigned
in the court of Louis Nv. The brushes Of
the eloquence of their genius and art to
defy this daring woman. She appointed
ministers. she exiled those who incurred
her i'll will, she sentenced to the Bastile
those who ran counter to her imperlous
wish. She was the p%atroness of philoso-
| ply, art and song. Through her magic
! wand Versailles was touched into a dream
of e,1ondor x-hiab hos not yot vanished
Her collection of pictures, crystals, cam
eos, antiques and gems was unparalleled in
the kingdom. She squandered fortunes on
her palaces, fetes and ball; and then
other fortunes on her toilet. For twenty
years this butchers daughter held her i'm
perial sway, which was broken only by
death. But when the historian tells us
that it was the dream OF her girlhood to
seduce the king; that her shameless prodi-
gality makes the cheek of decency burn;
that modesty found no hospitality among
her sensual charms, we may well repeat
the question of another, "Was La Pom
padour beautiful, or merely pretty?' In
stinctively drawing back as we would in
the presence of a snake, We answer, She
was neither. She was a royal hariot, pa
raded in gilded shame, lacking most Of all
that jewel of modesty which sparkles in
the crown of true beauty" Alas for that
land whose women forsake their wells of
modesty to show the people and princes
their beauty!
Consider, finally, the price yashti paid
for her modesty. For her refusal to come
at the kings command was the immediate
cause Of her dethronement. Surely there
are few finer exhibitions Of sacrifice in the
histc , of ~womenhood. We love to read
of Te. siila, who united courage with the
gift of song, and saved Argos; Of Octavia,
shielding the children Of Cleopatra, her
| cI,,,o1oc, ,;,o1. &C S,1pioio reno1nni,r
the pleasures of Rome to 60 into exile
with her husband; Of Lucretia. who killed
herself rather than live in dishonor; of
Cornclia, the mother Of the Gracchi. urg-
ing them to deeds Of patriotism; Of Paula,
leaving her palace on Mount Aventine, to
walk as an angel o. charity through the
slums of Rome, but not one Of them out
shines Nashti.
Nor has history given this lovely queen
her dues. We read much of Lais. who
lived IN the same century as Nashtl. and
who was a notorious courtesan: OF the
immoral Aspasia, who counted Socrates
and Pericles among her -ong list OF ad-
mirers; Of the treacherous Lucilla, who
ruled the court OF Marcus -Aurelius; OF
Agrippina, the infamous mother OF still
more infamous son-Nero. All of these
names lave been emblazoned high up i'll
the hall of fame. But, sadly enough, the
events of Vashti's lie, like Sappho's songs,
have been lost. And Yet these few
glimpses we have OF her in the first and
second chapters of the Book of Esther
will cause people to look at her forever.
She was beautiful in Shushan the palace,
and she will be beautiful for all time.
She was fair to look on five centuries be-
fore Christ, and she win be fair to look
on to the last day Of the world. It was
Nashti's beauty of soul that proclaimed
her the forerunner OF that renaissance for
which the world is suffering to-day, viz:
A genuine revival of the old-fashioned,
homespun, immortal virtue of modesty!
While the Bible says nothinH of the sac
riiee she made, be assured that it was big
with pain. Long nights of sorrow shut
her in. She knew the bitterness of friend
less days. Like Dante, she experienced
how hard it was to eat others bread. But
she took no counsel Of her eSpediency.
Let the kings anger burn within him. let
the goddess court make her a laughing
stock, still Vashti never faltered. She
knew that beyond her Gethsemane, Ascen-
sion Mount was robed in glory. She
knew, with all queenly women of like spir-
it, that gates of pearl would swing back to
let her in. and that she would march to
.,otbnr corooo+iop al, bi~h