of all days, at the close of a year which it is best not to characterize, that those who stand upon the social watch-towers in Europe and America begin to see a light—­or, it would be better to say, to perceive a spirit—­in society which is likely to change many things, and; among others, to work a return of Christian simplicity.  As might be expected in these days, the spirit is exhibited in the sex which is first at the wedding and last in the hospital ward.  And as might have been expected, also, this spirit is shown by the young woman of the period, in whose hands are the issues of the future.  If she preserve her present mind long enough, Christmas will become a day that will satisfy every human being, for the purpose of the young woman will pervade it.  The tendency of the young woman generally to simplicity, of the American young woman to a certain restraint (at least when abroad), to a deference to her elders, and to tradition, has been noted.  The present phenomenon is quite beyond this, and more radical.  It is, one may venture to say, an attempt to conform the inner being to the outward simplicity.  If one could suspect the young woman of taking up any line not original, it might be guessed that the present fashion (which is bewildering the most worldly men with a new and irresistible fascination) was set by the self-revelations of Marie Bashkirtseff.  Very likely, however, it was a new spirit in the world, of which Marie was the first publishing example.  Its note is self-analysis, searching, unsparing, leaving no room for the deception of self or of the world.  Its leading feature is extreme candor.  It is not enough to tell the truth (that has been told before); but one must act and tell the whole truth.  One does not put on the shirt front and the standing collar and the knotted cravat of the other sex as a mere form; it is an act of consecration, of rigid, simple come-out-ness into the light of truth.  This noble candor will suffer no concealments.  She would not have her lover even, still more the general world of men, think she is better, or rather other, than she is.  Not that she would like to appear a man among men, far from that; but she wishes to talk with candor and be talked to candidly, without taking advantage of that false shelter of sex behind which women have been accused of dodging.  If she is nothing else, she is sincere, one might say wantonly sincere.  And this lucid, candid inner life is reflected in her dress.  This is not only simple in its form, in its lines; it is severe.  To go into the shop of a European modiste is almost to put one’s self into a truthful and candid frame of mind.  Those leave frivolous ideas behind who enter here.  The ‘modiste’ will tell the philosopher that it is now the fashion to be severe; in a word, it is ‘fesch’.  Nothing can go beyond that.  And it symbolizes the whole life, its self-examination, earnestness, utmost candor in speech and conduct.