they seem to respond with
simplicity to the gospel precept:

"When ye fast, be not as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance ... but
anoint thine head, that thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy
Father which seeth in secret."

If one of the ancient preachers could talk to these ascetics, he would
also be much edified by their conversation. What has become of those
pleasantries which formed "life" and "delight" and "gaiety" in the
time of Marguerite of Valois? The tales of Boccaccio could not now be
discussed in English society, or in any modern aristocratic society
even of much lower social rank than that which surrounded Marguerite
of Valois. Nowadays people are afraid of uttering an incorrect word,
even of hinting at the most innocent functions of the body, or of
naming those parts of their clothing which come in contact with the
skin. They only talk about elevated things, and only those people who
instruct us are looked upon as brilliant conversationalists; those
who, in speaking of their travels, tell us about the customs of the
people, or who, speaking of politics, tell us of the current
situation. Excessive laughter, jokes, and violent gestures are not
permitted. Every one keeps his limbs quiet, even avoiding those
vivacious and inoffensive gestures which are the natural accompaniment
of conversation; the tone of voice is so modulated as to be scarcely
audible. The ancient preacher would say, "These people have carried
out St. Paul's exhortation to an exaggerated degree: 'But fornication
and all uncleanness, let it not once be named among you, as becometh
saints; neither filthiness nor foolish talking nor jesting which are
not convenient.'"

* * * * *

And among these evolutions of manners we find that it is once more
hygiene which, making itself the guide of fashion, has by degrees
simplified clothes, done away with pomatum and rouge, abolished
crinolines, modified stays and shoes, caused long-trained dresses to
disappear from the streets, and has introduced uniformity in clothing.
If a man who lived in ancient times were to appear among us, he would
ask: "Why are the people doing penance? I see men without any
ornaments and with their hair cut short; and women who, with an
edifying renunciation of vanity, go along the street without wigs and
without patches on their faces, with their hair simply knotted up; I
see countesses dressed in inexpensive costumes, in simple, dark,
monastic d