they were born to wear blue ribbons. It has come, probably,
from study, but it seems to be natural. Sir Timothy did not impose on
those who looked at him as do these men. You could see a little of
the paint, you could hear the crumple of the starch and the padding;
you could trace something of uneasiness in the would-be composed
grandeur of the brow. "Turveydrop!" the spectator would say to
himself. But after all it may be a question whether a man be open to
reproach for not doing that well which the greatest among us,--if we
could find one great enough,--would not do at all.

For I think we must hold that true personal dignity should be
achieved,--must, if it be quite true, have been achieved,--without
any personal effort. Though it be evinced, in part, by the carriage
of the body, that carriage should be the fruit of the operation of
the mind. Even when it be assisted by external garniture such as
special clothes, and wigs, and ornaments, such garniture should have
been prescribed by the sovereign or by custom, and should not have
been selected by the wearer. In regard to speech a man may study all
that which may make him suasive, but if he go beyond that he will
trench on those histrionic efforts which he will know to be wrong
because he will be ashamed to acknowledge them. It is good to be
beautiful, but it should come of God and not of the hairdresser. And
personal dignity is a great possession; but a man should struggle for
it no more than he would for beauty. Many, however, do struggle for
it, and with such success that, though they do not achieve quite the
real thing, still they get something on which they can bolster
themselves up and be mighty.

Others, older men than Silverbridge, saw as much as did our young
friend, but they were more complaisant and more reasonable. They,
too, heard the crackle of the buckram, and were aware that the last
touch of awe had come upon that brow just as its owner was emerging
from the shadow of the Speaker's chair;--but to them it was a thing
of course. A real Caesar is not to be found every day, nor can we
always have a Pitt to control our debates. That kind of thing, that
last touch has its effect. Of course it is all paint,--but how would
the poor girl look before the gaslights if there were no paint? The
House of Commons likes a little deportment on occasions. If a special
man looks bigger than you, you can console yourself by reflecting
that he also looks bigger than yo