IT is your first business to be beautiful. You are the visible embodiment of mankind's ideal, of the good, the true and the beautiful in intimate union, the trinity in one which all men worship and desire. Your outward beauty is the token and symbol of all that makes life worth living; and, if your inner self should belie your exterior, you fill men with cynicism, render them fierce and brutal, and drive them to despair. You are the dispensers of the supreme rewards, and, in "this vale of tears," it is your part to make the tears less bitter and the smiles more sweet. The smile of a beautiful woman is the most powerful agency in this world, as powerful to create as to destroy. That you are the repositories of this tremendous power is a fact to which the tragi-comic quality of human life is chiefly due.
If you are not commonly acclaimed as a "beauty," do not think that you escape this tremendous responsibility. Every woman is beautiful when tenderness shines in her eyes and gentleness guides her hands. These are the essence of the inward beauty which all men seek and without which its outward seeming, its surface symbols, are