Ginger-Snaps :: WHY WEAR MOURNING?

WHY WEAR MOURNING?

I WISH that a few sensible, intelligent, wealthy people would cease draping and festooning themselves like engine-houses, when a death occurs in the family. I use word "wealthy" advisedly; because it is only that class who can really effect a reformation, for the reason that they will not be supposed unable "to pay a proper respect," as the phrase runs, to the deceased. Proper respect! Do yards of crape and bombazine never express the opposite emotion? Is real heart-breaking grief to be gauged by the width of a hem, or the length or thickness of a veil? Have not many a widow and orphan woke up, the morning after a funeral, to find the little left by the deceased, expended in funereal carriages, for people who would not lift a helping finger if it would keep them out of the almshouse? We all know that, or if we don't, we may wake up to the fact, some future day, when the sunshine of prosperity is clouded over. That point disposed of, it must also be remembered that a black dress now is hardly "mourning;" since that color is so fashionable for street and home, and even festive wear, that it is hard to distinguish the lady who affects "all black," because "it is so stylish," from a bereaved person. Another objection to "mourning" is, that it is the most expensive dress that can be worn, because most easily spoiled by rain, or dampness, or dust; and as "proper respect for the deceased" requires such voluminous folds of it, and so often renewed to be presentable, or else many changes of mourning to keep the "best suit" up to the proper grief requirement, that the tax on a limited purse may be easily calculated.

Said a lady to me one day, "This heavy crape-vail, over my face and down to my knees, keeps out the air, and gives me a constant sick-headache."—"Why, then, wear it?" asked I.—"Because it wouldn't be decent to omit it," she replied. This remark, of course, requires no comment.

Then, again, the little children—death must be made as horrible as possible to them too, at the biding of custom! They must be swathed in sackcloth although only two or three years of sunshine have put the golden gleam in their hair. Is it not enough that papa or mamma, or sister or brother, may never answer again when their bird-like voices call them! Is it Christian or even humane, so to surround them with gloom that "death" shall be a never-ceasing nightmare? I never see a little creature so habited, that I do not long to hang a garland of roses about its neck, and point to the blue heavens as an emblem of that serene rest which has come to the sleeper.

But you may ask, "Would you give no sign, no token that the footprints of the Destroyer are over your threshold?" Yes, the same that is used by military men when their chief has departed—a crape upon the arm. This simple token—no more; since, as I say, multiplied bombazine and crape do not always express either grief or respect; since they often represent the contrary, and mostly an expense which can ill be borne by the survivors even when grief is sincere; and since this already recognized military badge of bereavement answers all the purpose—why not?

The white ribbon tied upon the door-handle, with rosebuds attached, when the baby's lids are forever closed—oh! that is beautiful. There are, and must be, breaking hearts inside that door; but I know by experience that the moment will surely come, after nature shall have had its saving flow of tears, when, in the sense of perfect peace, and safety for the little song-bird, now far above the clouds of earth, they will forget themselves and remember only that.

Then away with all these heathenish insignia; they certainly stand no more for grief or respect than a flashing diamond on the neck or finger, denotes wealth or social position, or even respectability. Above all, away with this bugaboo nightmare of little children, who will have enough, God knows, to contend with, as they grow older, without prematurely draping with the blackness of darkness, the entrance to a portal through which they are certainly destined to pass, and which the light of faith in their maturer years may gild, as the shining gate to the Celestial City.

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