Chapter III: Part 3

“Who is there among us that has not witnessed a beautiful woman so apparelled as to render her rather an object of pity and ridicule than of admiration? How often do we see simplicity and youthful loveliness obscured by a redundancy of ornaments! How often do the robust and healthy, the majestic and the gay, the pensive and the sportive, follow the same mode; marring, mingling and mangling without mercy, and without taste; regardless of discrimination, appropriation, or judgment; to the total overthrow of the attractions which nature liberally bestowed! Do not these ladies perceive that each style of personal beauty has a distinct character to support? That a tasteful adaptation will enforce the stamp which nature has impressed? Let us then admonish the female whose beauty is of the fair, pale, and interesting cast, not to render her appearance insipid by the overpowering hues of robes, mantles, pelisses, &c. of amber, orange, grass-green, crimson, or rose-color. This soft style of beauty makes its appeal to our most delicate perceptions; all grossness of color displeases them, and therefore should not be admitted in the articles of her dress.

“Grass-green, though a color exceedingly pleasing and refreshing in itself, jaundices the complexion of the pale woman to such a degree, as to excite little other sensations in the beholder than compassion for the poor invalid. Such females should, in general, choose their robes of an _entire color_; and when they wear white garments, they should animate them with draperies, mantles, scarfs, ribbons, &c. of pale pink, blossom-color, celestial blue, lilac, dove-color, and primrose; leaving full green, deep blue, and purple, to the florid; and amber, scarlet, orange, flame-color, and deep rose, to the brunette.

“Thus much we offer in the suitable appropriations of colors. We shall now proceed to say something on the prevailing fashions of the day; and though we may fairly congratulate our countrywomen on their taste and improvement in this particular, yet here also the regulating hand of judgment, the nice and discriminating effects of genius, and the directing influence of a delicate and just taste, become most importantly necessary.

“The mantle, or cottage-cloak, should never be worn by females exceeding a moderate _embonpoint_; and we should recommend their winter garbs, such as Russian pelisses and Turkish wraps, to be formed of double sarsnet, or fine Merino cloth, rather than velvets, which (except black) give an appearance of increased size to the wearer. In the adoption of furs, flat-ermine or fringe fur is better suited to the full-formed woman that swan’s-down, fox, chinchilla, or sable; these are graceful for the more slender. Women of a spare habit, and of a tall and elegant height, will derive considerable advantage from the full-flowing robe, mantle, and Roman tunic. The fur-trimming, too, gives to them an appearance of roundness which nature has denied; and to this description of person we can scarcely recommend an evening dress more chaste, elegant, and advantageous, than robes of white satin, trimmed with swan’s-down, with draperies of silver or gossamer net. The antique head-dress, or queen Mary _coif_, is best adapted to the Roman and Grecian line of feature. The Chinese hat and Highland helmet are becoming to countenances of a rounder and more playful contour.

“We have frequently, in our observations, found occasion to lament, in the present style of female dress, a want of that proper distinction which should ever be attended to in the several degrees of _costume_. For instance, the short gown, so appropriate and convenient for walking, and pursuing morning avocations or exercises, intrudes beyond its sphere when seen in the evening or full dress. It is in the splendid drawing-room that the train robe appears with all that superiority which gives pre-eminence to grace, and dignity to beauty.

“Why should these pleasingly-varying distinctions be neglected? The long sleeve, too, (now so universal in almost every order of dress,) belongs with strict propriety only to the domestic habit. These are inattentions or faults which a correct taste will quickly discover, and easily rectify. It is dangerous to level distinctions in one case, and disadvantageous in the other. There should be a just and reasonable discipline in trifles, as well as in matters of higher import. There is a vast deal more in things of seeming insignificance than is commonly imagined. Subjects of importance, high achievements, and glorious examples, strike every beholder; but there are few who reflect that it is by perseverance, and attention to comparative trifles, that mighty deeds are performed, and that great consequences are ultimately produced.

“A correct taste is ever the concomitant of a chaste mind; for, as a celebrated author has justly observed, _our taste commonly declines with our merit_. A correct taste is the offspring of all that is delicate in sentiment and just in conception; it softens the inflexibility of truth, and decks reason in the most persuasive garments.

“A walking-dress cannot be constructed too simply. All attractive and fancy articles should be confined to the carriage-dress, or dinner and evening apparel. We shall here particularly address the order of females who may not have the luxury of a carriage, and yet be within the rank of gentlewomen. This class composes treble the number of those to whom fortune has bestowed the appendages of equipages and retinue. We shall, in our observations, particularly aim at increasing their respectability, by leading them to adopt a style of adornment, which, while it combines fashion and elegance, shall be remarkable only for its neatness and simplicity.

“It has been said that the love of dress is natural to the sex; and we see no reason why any female should be offended with the assertion. ‘Dress,’ says an author on the subject, ‘is the natural finish of beauty. Without dress a handsome person is a gem, but a gem that is not set.’ Dress, however, must be subject to certain rules; be consistent with the graces, and with nature. By attention to these particulars, is produced that agreeable exterior which pleases, we know not why,--which charms, even without that first and powerful attraction, beauty.

“Fashion, in her various flights, frequently soars beyond the reach of propriety. Good sense, taste, and delicacy, then make their appeal in vain. Her despotic and arbitrary sway levels and confounds. Where is delicacy? where is policy? we mentally exclaim, when we see the fair inconsiderate votary of fashion exposing, unseemly, that bosom which good men delight to imagine the abode of innocence and truth. Can the gaze of the voluptuous, the unlicensed admiration of the profligate, compensate to the woman of sentiment and purity for what she loses in the estimation of the moral and the just?

“But, delicacy apart, what shall we say to the blind conceit of the robust, the coarse, the waning fair one, who thus obtrude the ravages of time upon the public eye? Let us not offend. We wish to lead to conviction, not to awaken resentment.--Fashion must, in these instances, have borrowed the bondage of fortune, and so blinded her votaries against the sober dictates of reason, the mild dignity of self-respect.

“There is a mediocrity which bounds all things, and even fixes the standard which divides virtue from bombast. Let us, therefore, in every concern, endeavor to observe this happy temperature. Let the youthful female exhibit, without shade, as much of her bust as shall come within the limits of fashion, without infringing on the borders of immodesty. Let the fair of riper years appear less exposed. To sensible and tasteful women a hint is merely required. They need not very close instructions; for at once they perceive, combine, and adopt, with judgment and delicacy. The rules of propriety are followed, as it were, instinctively by them; and their example is so impressed on the generality of our lovely countrywomen, (who, too often and inconsiderately, follow the vagaries of fashion with, perhaps, ridiculous avidity,) that we must take upon us to correct the irregularities of the many, in hopes that the judicious few will embrace grace, and make it universal.

“Far be it from us to lead the female mind from its solemn engagements to the pursuit of comparative nothings. But there is a time and place for all things, and for every innocent purpose under heaven; and on these grounds we do not see why a female should not blend the agreeable with the estimable.

“There are persons who neglect their dress from pride, and a desire to attract by a careless singularity; but wherever this is the case, depend on it something is wrong in the mind. Lavater has observed, that persons habitually attentive to their attire display the same regularity in their domestic affairs. ‘Young women,’ he continues, ‘who neglect their toilet, and manifest little concern about dress, indicate a general disregard of order; a mind but ill adapted to the detail of house-keeping; a deficiency of taste, and of the qualities that inspire love:--they will be careless in everything. The girl of eighteen who desires not to please, will be a slut, or a shrew, at twentyfive. Pay attention, young men, to this sign; it never yet was known to deceive.’

“Hence we see that the desire of exhibiting an amiable exterior is essentially requisite in woman. It is to be received as an unequivocal symbol of those qualities which we seek in a wife; it indicates cleanliness, sweetness, a love of order, and of universal propriety. What, then, is there to censure in a moderate consideration of dress?--Nothing. We may blame when we find extravagance, profusion, misappropriation; the tyranny of fashion; slavery to vanity; in short, bad taste!

“Let us then urge the British fair to that elegant simplicity, that discriminating selection, which combines fashion, utility, and grace. Thus shall the inventive faculty of genius be honored and encouraged, and industry receive the reward of its ingenuity and labors.

“We shall now proceed to notice the present articles which claim fashionable pre-eminence, and give some useful hints on their application.

“As a walking habit, we know of none in summer which is more graceful than the lightly flowing shade of lace or finest muslin. And in winter no invention can exceed the Trans-Baltic coat or Lapland-wrap. These comfortable shields from the cold are usually formed of cloth or velvet, with deep collars and cuffs of sable, or other well-contrasted fur. Ladies of the first nobility usually have them lined throughout with the same costly skins. These garments wrap over the figure in front; sometimes they have them without other ornament than their bordering furs; and at others, fasten them with magnificent clasps and buckles. We have seen one of these coats (or, as northern travellers denominate them, _shoubs_,) on a female of high rank, composed of crimson-velvet, with deep cuffs, cape and collar of spotted ermine, and a deep border of the same down the sides. It had a superb effect; and, with the imperial helmet-hat of the same material, exhibited one of the most sumptuous carriage costumes that can be imagined.

“When this dress is adopted by the pedestrian fair, we recommend it to be of a more sober hue, and that the bonnet should be of the provincial poke or cottage form.

“Short women destroy the symmetry of their forms, and encumber their charms, with redundancy of ornament, either in their morning or evening attires. A little woman, befeathered and furbelowed, looks like a queen of the Bantam tribe; and we dare not approach her for fear of ruffling her plumes. Feathers are much in vogue; and though formerly a symbol of full dress, are now often a mark of graceful negligence, and are seen falling carelessly, and floating with ease; they kiss the rosy cheek of youth and health; or, less courteous, steal the vermilion from the painted face of fading maturity, as, fanned by the spiteful breeze, they wave from her bonneted head in the gay promenade.

“We love to see our countrywomen remarkable for elegance and modesty, as well as beauty. Englishmen, accustomed to objects of undisputed loveliness, aim at something beyond the surface of external charms; they require that all should be fair within.

“Hear what a male writer has observed on the fashion of exposing the bosom! ‘A woman, proud of her beauty,’ says he, ‘may possibly be nothing but a coquette; one who makes a public display of her _bosom_, is something worse.’ This writer insinuates too much; for we believe that so far from our females being actuated in this case by any unbecoming motive, they too commonly act from no motive at all, save that blind and mistaken one which we have so much condemned--_the heedless adoption of an absurdity because it is the fashion_! But let the inconsiderate beauty remember, that where two motives can be assigned to an action, the world will generally adopt that which is least favorable!”

Though I have made this extract, which enters so intimately into the secrets of the toilet, and descants so engagingly on its attractive subject, I must desire that it may not be supposed I would seek to create an inordinate degree of care respecting that which is comparatively of no account, when placed in competition with the indispensable qualities and acquirements which ought to adorn the Christian maid. I would have my fair friends be fully impressed with the truth, that it is not she who spends the most time at her toilet that is usually the best dressed; a too zealous care generally subverts the effect it was meant to produce. It is very easy to “varnish till the painting disappears.” A multiplicity of ornaments ever distracts the attention, and detracts from feminine loveliness. They are regarded as a sort of _make weights_ in a scale, where nature must have been a niggard to render them necessary.

In the like manner, a diversity of colors bespeaks vulgarity of taste, and a mind without innate elegance or acquired culture. Where doubt may be about this or that hue being becoming or genteel (as it is very possible it may neither be the one nor the other,) let the puzzled beauty leave both, and securely array herself in simple white, “pure as her mind.” That primeval hue never offends, and frequently is the most graceful robe that youth and loveliness can wear. “It is inconceivable,” says a writer on the subject, “how much the color of a gown or a shawl may heighten or destroy the beauty of a complexion; and how much the sex in general neglect these (to them) important particulars.” Every consideration must yield to the prevailing mode; and to this tyrant all advantages are sacrificed. Women no longer consult their figures, but the whim of the moment; and it is sufficient for them that the Duchess of D----, or the Marchioness of E----, appeared in _murry_ color or _coquelicot_, to make all the _belles_ in England, black, brown, or fair, array themselves in the same livery.

Nothing contributes more to the setting forth of the beauties of a complexion than the choice of the colors opposed to it. Women should not only be nice in this adaptation, but they must be careful that the different shades or hues they admit in the various parts of their garments should accord with each other.

Here it is that we distinguish the woman of taste from the hoyden, ready to employ a pedlar’s pack upon her shoulders. To attempt to contrast two shades of the same color, has in general a very harsh effect; indeed I never saw it harmonize in the least, except in the case of two greens as a trimming; or in the beautiful blending of nature in the form and hues of flowers.

It is also not unworthy of remark, that colors which are to make a part of evening apparel ought to be chosen by candle-light; for if in the morning, forgetful of the influence of different lights on these things, you purchase a robe of pale yellow, purple, lilac, or rose-color, you will be greatly disappointed when at night it is observed to you that your dress is either dingy, foxy, or black.

The harmonious assortment of well-chosen colors was once quite a science amongst women; and even now it may not only be considered as a specimen of delicate taste, but a proof of that genius which, if cultivated, might distil the hues of Iris over the animated canvass fraught with beauty and life.

This union of a thousand dyes, “by nature’s pure and cunning hand laid on,” cannot be found in greater perfection than in the resplendent lap of summer; then the earth teems with gay enchantment, and presents to the fair wanderers through her fragrant bowers the loveliest raiment for their beauties. This animating and native ornament, so interesting and charming in itself, should ever find a place on the toilet of youth. How can a beauteous young woman (the fairest production of creation) be more suitably adorned than with this sweet apparel of the fairest season? It is uniting “sweets to the sweet.” Flowers recall so many pleasing images to the mind, that when a beholder sees them, he is ever put in a temper to admire; and, when they are found blended with the beauties of a lovely girl, the effect is irresistible.

The simple wreath of roses, the jessamine, the lily of the valley, the snow-drop, the brilliant ranunculus, and a long train of rival sweets, offer themselves at the shrine of female taste. From this rich assemblage are selected and formed those delicious garlands which deck the snowy brows of Celia, which twine with Chloe’s golden hair. From this fair parterre we collect the variegated _bouquet_, which, reposing on the bosom of beauty, mingles its fragrant breath with hers.

This tender, this exquisite sweetness, which we inhale from the lily, the rose, or the violet, is far preferable to all the extracted perfumes that ever were wafted “from Indus to the pole.” They are not only purer and more balmy; but, when, on approaching a lovely woman, we find, not only our eye delighted with the sight of beauty, but our senses “wrapped in the sweet embrace of soft perfumes;” when it is not the preconcerted fragrancy of essences drawn from east to west, and poured upon the fair with the design to _affect our senses_; then we yield ourselves to the lovely breathing of nature. We see her in the charming creature before us, blooming in youth and freshness; we feel her in the thousand odors of Paradise emanating from the newly-plucked flowers, which seem to share her being, imbibing and partaking sweetness.

Amidst the variety of materials with which women decorate their persons, there is not one that requires greater discrimination in the use than those articles of jewelry which we denominate trinkets. Here good taste, the general regulatrix, now resumes her sway. The blind directress of the luxuriant imagination gives grace to solidity, and consequence to trifles. Her magic spirit breathes in the laurels of the hero, dwells on the lip of oratory, and sparkles in the gem that decorates the fair!

To women of the most exalted as well as of the more humble ranks, we recommend a moderate, rather than a profuse, display of conspicuous and showy ornaments. A well-educated taste ought to open the eyes of a woman to be a tolerably correct judge of the perfections or imperfections of her own person; and by that judgment she ought to regulate the adoption or rejection of striking decoration.

It is well to remind my youthful reader that she can never learn these truths (when they are on the defective side) but from the decisions of her own impartial mind. Few women, much less men, would venture to say to an improperly dressed young lady,--“Madam, your fingers are two clumsy to wear with advantage that brilliant ring;--your neck and arms are two meagre, discolored, or coarse, to adopt the pearl bracelet or necklace; unless, indeed, you soften the contrast by putting a lace shirt and long sleeves between your skin and the pearls.” These observations would place the too frank adviser in a similar situation with that of Gil Blas when correcting the manuscripts of the conceited _Prelate of Granada_;--and, therefore, we cannot expect that any friend should run the risk of incurring our resentment, when they might retain our favor by only permitting us to make ourselves as ridiculous as we please.

Let me then, in the light of an _author_, who cannot be supposed, in a general address, to mean any individual personal reflections, admonish my readers, one and all, not to neglect composing their complexions with the hues and brilliancy of the gems offered to them to wear. Clear brunettes shine with the greatest lustre when they adopt pearls, diamonds, topazes, and bright amber. The fair beauty may also wear all these with advantage, while she exclusively claims as her own, emeralds, garnets, amethysts, rubies, onyxes, &c. &c. Cornelian, coral, and jet, may be worn by either; but certainly produce the most pleasing effect on the rose and lily complexion.

Ornaments and trimmings of silver are to be preferred to gold, when intended for the fair beauty. The white lustre of the first of these costly metals harmonizes better with delicacy of skin than the glaring effulgence of the gold. By a parity of reasoning, gold agrees better with the brunette, as its yellow and flaming hue lights up the fire of her eyes, and exhibits her complexion in the brightest contrast.

If the _clavicle_, or collar-bone, be too apparent, either from accidental thinness or original shape, remedy the defect by letting the necklace fall immediately into the cavity which the ungraceful projection occasions. But should this bone protrude itself to an absolutely ugly extent, I would recommend the neck to be completely covered by a lace handkerchief and frill; for its exposure would only give a bad specimen of a figure which may be, in every other part, of a just and fine proportion.

If the prevailing fashion be to reject the long sleeve, and to partially display the arm, let the glove advance considerably above the elbow, and there be fastened with a drawing-string, or armlet. But this should only be the case when the arm is muscular, coarse, or scraggy. When it is fair, smooth, and round, it will admit of the glove being pushed down to a little above the wrists.

There is perhaps no single beauty of the female form which obtains so much admiration as a well-proportioned foot and ankle. Possibly the liveliness of this sentiment may be increased in this instance by the rarity of the perfection being found amongst the British fair.

There is a _je ne sais quoi_ in a fine ankle, which seems to assure the gazer that the whole of the form, of which it is a sample, is shaped with the same exquisite grace. A heavy leg and foot seems to hint that the whole of the limbs which the drapery conceals are in a gravitating proportion with their clumsy foundations; and where we see ponderosity of body, we are apt to conclude that there is equal heaviness in mind and feelings. This may be an unjust mode of reasoning, but it is a very common one; and so I account for the general prejudice against any unusual weight in the lower extremities.

When we consider that it required the famous sculptor of Greece to collect the most beautiful virgins from every part of his country before he could find a living model for every part of his projected statue of perfect beauty; when we consider this, that the very native land of female charms could not produce one woman completely faultless in her form--how can we be so unreasonable as to demand such perfection in a daughter of Britain?

Let not the other sex scrutinize too closely, nor demand that universal and correct symmetry in their wives and daughters, which was never yet found but in the elaborately chiseled models of the sculptor’s study.

It must not, however, be presumed from what I have said, that the generality of other countries are happier in the beautiful formation of their women’s forms than England, or that the British fair are at all more notorious than many other nations for heavy feet and legs. So far from it, there are ladies in England with feet and ankles of so delicate a symmetry, that there is nothing in modelling or in marble to excel their perfection. But to make a display of them--to exhibit them by unusually short petticoats, and draw attention by extraordinary gay attire, is an instance of immodesty and ill-taste, which attracts contempt instead of admiration. Men despise her for her impropriety, and envious women have a fair subject on which to ground their detractions.

In short, it can never be sufficiently inculcated, that modesty is the most graceful ornament of beauty.

“She that has that, is clad in complete steel.”

Be the foot eminently handsome, or the reverse, it alike requires to be arrayed soberly. Except on certain brilliant occasions, its shoe should be confined to grave and clean-looking colors; of the first, black, grays, and browns; of the last, white, nankeen, pale-blue, green, &c., according to the color of the dress, and the time of day. I should suppose it almost useless to say, that (except in a carriage) the dark colors ought to be preferred in a morning. To be sure, there is nothing out of character in wearing nankeen shoes or half-boots in the early part of the day, even in walking, provided the other parts of your dress be spotless white, or of the same buff hue. The other delicate colors I have mentioned above (I repeat, except in a carriage) are confined to evening dresses. Red morocco, scarlet, and those very vivid hues, cannot be worn with any propriety until winter, when the color of the mantle or pelisse may sanction its fulness. On brilliant assembly nights, or court drawing-rooms, the spangled or diamond-decorated slipper has a magnificent and appropriate effect. But for the raiment of the leg, we totally disapprove, at all times, of the much ornamented stocking.

The open-wove clock and instep, instead of displaying fine proportion, confuse the contour; and may produce an impression of gaiety, but exclude that of beauty, whose rays always strike singly. But if the cloak be a colored or a gold one, as I have sometimes seen, how glaring is the exhibition! how coarse the association of ideas it produces in the fancy! Instead of a woman of refined manners and polished habits, your imagination reverts to the gross and revolting females of Portsmouth-point, or Plymouth-dock; or at least to the hired opera-dancer, whose business it is to make her foot and ankle the principal object which characterizes her charms, and attracts the _coup d’œil_ of the whole assembly.

If I may give my fair friends a hint on this delicate subject, it would be that the finest rounded ankles are most effectually shown by wearing a silk stocking _without any clock_. The eye then slides easily over the unbroken line, and takes in all its beauties. But when the ankle is rather large, or square, then a pretty unobtrusive net clock, of the same color as the stocking, will be a useful division, and induce the beholder to believe the perfect symmetry of the parts. A very thick leg cannot be disguised or amended; and in this case I can only recommend absolute neatness in the dressing of the limb, and petticoats so long that there is hardly a chance of its ever being seen.

One cause of _thick ankles_ in young women is want of exercise, and abiding much in overheated rooms. Standing too long has often the same effect, by subjecting the limb to an unnatural load, and therefore to swelling. The only preventive, or cure, for this malady, is a strict attention to health. You might as well expect to see a rose-bush spring, bud, and bloom, in a closely-pent oven, as anticipate fine proportions and complexion from a long continuance of the exotic fashions of modern days.

If a girl wishes to be well-shaped and well-complexioned, she must use due exercise _on foot_. Horseback is an excellent auxiliary, as it gives much the same degree of motion, with double the animation, in consequence of the change of air, and variation of objects; but carriage exercise is so little, that we cannot recommend it to any case that is short of an absolute invalid. A woman in respectable health must _walk_, to maintain her happy temperament. By this she will still more consolidate her solids, and preserve the shape with which nature has kindly endowed her. If it was originally fine, it will remain; and if it was but ordinary, it will at least save itself from growing deformed.

ON DEPORTMENT.

“Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.”

MILTON.

Having discoursed so largely on form and apparel, I shall now throw together a few hints on that indispensable assistant-grace of beauty, an elegant and appropriate air.

This subject should be particularly considered; and the arguments from such reflections strongly enforced on the attention of young women. There is scarcely an observer of manners and their effects, who will not maintain that the most beautiful and well-dressed woman will soon cease to please, unless her charms are accompanied with the ineffable enchantment of a graceful demeanor. A pretty face may be seen every day, but grace and elegance, being generally the offspring of a polished mind, are more distinguished.

While we exult in the pre-eminent beauty of our fair countrywomen; while we talk of their lilies and roses, and downy skins; we cannot but shrink from comparison when we bring their manners in parallel with the females of other nations, who have not half their corporeal advantages.

I am not going to deny, that in this land of beauty, (a land to which a certain cardinal, many centuries ago, gave the appellation of _the native paradise of angels_!) we shall find the fair

“Fitted to shine in courts, or walk the shade,
With innocence and contemplation join’d.”

There are many lovely women of all ranks in England who merit this encomium: but I am not writing an eulogium on these happy exceptions; I feel it my duty to admonish the general race of my female contemporaries. To the rising generation I especially address myself; and when the young belle in her teens listens to the suggestions of experience, perhaps the advice may not be quite so unpalatable, when she understands that it comes from one who has studied the graces at more than one of the courts of the Bourbons; and, since their dispersion, has followed the flight of elegance wherever it was to be found.

The _awkward, reserved_ air of the early part of the last century has given way, not to _grace_ and _frankness_, but to an _unblushing impudence_, which is the very assassin of female virtue and connubial honor. Think not I am too severe, ye indulgent mothers! regard me not as a cynic, ye thoughtless daughters of imitation! I mean not to arraign your hearts, but your manners; I seek to pluck the garb of Phryné from your chaste and Christian shoulders. Who, that is an actress, when called upon to perform the part of spotless _Virginia_, would rush upon the stage half naked, dancing, rolling her eyes as if intoxicated, and flirting with every officer of the _pretorian guard_ who crossed her path? In such a case should we not call the actress mad? or say, “If such were Virginia, he performed a rash and unnecessary act, who avenged the insulted person of such a wanton on the first magistrate of Rome!”

Yet such Virginias are our Virginias! and to see a modest, abashed, retiring, blushing girl enter one of our assemblies, is as uncommon a sight as now and then an embassy from a foreign land. The modern taste for exhibitions of all kinds is the chief source of this depravity; a girl is no longer taught to dance that she may move easily in the occasional festivities of her neighborhood, and enjoy the graceful exercise of a birth-day or a race ball, without annoying the movements of her companions. No! these are not sufficient: she takes her lessons of the _corps de ballet_, that she may present herself in the ball-room or on a stage; and while the motions of her limbs, and the exposure of her person, scandalize every discreet matron present, she believes herself the object of general admiration, the very _ne plus ultra_ of the art. In like manner, her musical talents are cultivated. She does not learn to compose, with her sweet lullaby, the unquiet hours of old age or of sickness, to rest and sleep: enough for her relations, father, brothers, husband, that she practises all day the crude and disagreeable parts of her lessons. It is for the guest, the gay assembly, the concert of _amateurs_, that she reserves her harmonies; and to them she sings and plays till she believes _herself_ the tenth muse, and _them_ her adorers.

Can we be surprised that from such an education should be produced the vain, the conceited, the presumptuous, the impudent?

To check this growing evil, by showing the young candidate for admiration what is “woman’s best knowledge and her praise;” to show her what is indeed the proper, the graceful, the winning deportment, is the design of these few following pages; and I trust that my young reader will receive them as the admonition of a tender and experienced parent, and not allow “a mother’s precepts to be vain!”

Having laid it down as a first principle, that no demeanor, whether in a princess or a country girl, can be becoming that is not grounded in _feminine delicacy_, I shall proceed to show, that a different deportment is expected from different persons. Certain characteristics of persons are suited to certain styles of manner; and also the same demeanor does not agree as well with the steward’s daughter as the squire’s bride.

As in a former chapter I have particularized the dresses which are adapted to the gay and the grave, so in the next I propose pointing out the appropriate miens which belong to the various degrees of beauty and classes of society.

PECULIARITIES IN CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOR.

“By her graceful walk, the Queen of Love is known.”

VIRGIL.

As order is the beautiful harmonizer of the universe, so consistency is the graceful combiner of all that is in woman to perfection.

In reference to this sentiment, her manners must bear due affinity with her figure, and her deportment with her rank. The youthful and delicate-shaped girl is allowed a gaiety of air which would ill become a women of maturer years and larger proportions; but at all times of life, when the figure is slender, a swan-like neck, and the motions are naturally swaying, for that girl, or that woman, to affect what is called a majestic air, would be as unavailing as absurd. It is not in the power of a figure so constructed ever to look majestic. By stiffening her joints, walking with an erect mien, and drawing up her neck, she would certainly be upright; she would seem to have had a determined dancing-master, who, in spite of nature and grace, had made her _hold up her head_; but she would never look like anything but a stiff, inelegant creature. The character of these slight forms corresponds with their resemblances in the vegetable world: the aspen, the willow, bend their gentle heads at every passing breeze, and their flexible and tender arms toss in the wind with grace and beauty: such is the woman of delicate proportions. She must enter a room either with the buoyant step of a young nymph, if youth is her passport to sportiveness; or, if she is advanced nearer the meridian of life, she then may glide in, with that ease of manner which gives play to all the graceful motions of her elegantly undulating form. For her to crane up her neck, would be to change its fine swan-like bend into the scraggy throat of the ostrich: all her movements should be of a flexible character. Her mode of salutation should be rather a bow than a courtesy; and when she sits, she should model her easy attitude rather by the ideas of the painter, when he would pourtray a reclining nymph, than according to the lessons of the grace-destroying governess, who would marshal her pupils on their chairs like a rank of drilled recruits. In short, for a slender or thin woman, to be stiff at any time, is, in the first case, to render of no effect the advantages of nature; and, in the next, to increase and aggravate her defects, by making it more conspicuous by a constrained and ridiculous carriage.

Though we cannot unite the majestic air which declares command with this easy, nymph-like deportment, the dignity of modesty may be its inseparable companion. The timid, the retreating step; the downcast eye; the varying complexion, “blushing at the deep regard she draws!” all these belong to this class of females; and they are charms so truly feminine, so exquisitely lovely, that I cannot but place them with their counterpart, the ethereal form, as the perfection of female beauty.

The woman whose figure bears nature’s own stamp of majesty, is generally of a stately make; her person is squarer, and has more of _embonpoint_ than the foregoing. The very muscles of her neck are so formed as to show their adaptation to an erect posture. There is a sort of loftiness in the natural movement of her head, in the high swell of her expansive bosom. The step of this woman should be grave and firm: her motions few and commanding; and the carriage of her head and person erect and steady. An excess in stateliness could not have any worse effect on her, than perverting the majesty of nature into the haughtiness of art. We might admire or revere the first; the last we would probably resent and detest. The dignified beauty must therefore beware of overstraining the natural bent of her character: it is like the bombast of exalted language which never fails to lose its aim, and engender disgust. We might laugh at a delicate girl, so far exaggerating the pliancy of her form and ease of manners, as to twist herself into the thousand antics of a Columbine: she aims at pleasing us, and though she chooses the wrong method, we will not frown, but only smile at the ridiculous exhibition. But when a majestic fair one presumes to arrogate an undue consequence in her air, it is not to gratify our senses that she assumes the extraordinary diadem: and, irritated at the contempt her greatness would wish to throw upon us inferior personages, we treat her like an usurper; and, armed with a sense of injustice, we determine to pull her at once from her throne.

The easy, graceful air, we see, belongs exclusively to the slender beauty, and the moderated majestic mien to a greater _embonpoint_.

There is a race of women whose persons have no determined character. These must regulate and adopt their demeanors according to the degrees in which they approach the two before-mentioned classes. But in all cases, let it never be forgotten, that a too faint copy of a model is better than an overcharged one. Excess is always bad. Moderation never offends. By falling easily into the degree of undulating grace, or the dignified demeanor which suits your character, you merely put on the robe which nature designed, and the habit will be fit and becoming.

But when the nymph-like form assumes a regal port, or a commanding dame pretends to “skip and play,” the affectation on both sides is equally absurd: discords of this kind are ever ridiculous and odious. Besides these, there are affectations of other descriptions, of equal folly and bad effect. Some ladies, to whom nature has given a good sight, and lovely orbs to look through, must needs pretend a kind of half-blindness, and they go peeping about through an eye-glass, dangling at the end of a long gold chain, hanging at their necks. Not content with this affectation of one defect, they assume another, and lisp so inarticulately, that hardly three words in a sentence are intelligible. All such follies as these are not more a death-blow to all respect for the novice that plays them off, than they are sure antidotes to any charms she may possess. Simplicity is the perfection of form; simplicity is the perfection of fine dressing; simplicity is the perfection of air and manners.

In the details of carriage, we must not omit a due attention to gait, and its accompanying air. We find that it was “by her _graceful walk_ the Queen of Love was known!” In this particular, the French women far exceed us. Pope observes, that “they move easiest who have learnt to _dance_.” And it is the step of the highly-accomplished dancer that we see in the generality of well-bred Frenchwomen; not the march of the military sergeant, which is the usual study with our pedestrian Graces. There is a buoyant lightness, a dignified ease in the walk of a lady, who has been taught the use of her limbs by a fine dancer, which is never seen in her who has been drilled by the halbert, and told to _stand at ease_ with her hands resting on her stomach, as if reposing on the trigger of her fire-lock. Such a way as we have fallen upon to teach our daughters the _graceful step of the Queen of Love_, is, indeed, so singular, that until another race of Amazons arise, to whom military tactics may be useful, we have no chance of any imitators. Indeed, the marching walk of Englishwomen is so ridiculous, even in the eyes of their own countrymen, that I remember of being one day in St. James’s Park, with one of these female recruits, when a sentinel, with a humorous gravity, struck his musket to her as she passed.

Both in the case of air and gait, it is necessary to begin early to train the person and the limbs to the ease and grace you wish. It is difficult to straighten the stem long left to diverge into irregular wildness; but the tender tree, pliant in youth, needs only the directing hand of a careful gardener to train it to symmetry and luxuriance.

Many of the naturally most pleasing parts of the female shape have I seen assume an appearance absolutely disgusting; and all form an _outre_ air, vulgar manners, or hoydening postures. The bosom, which should be prominent, by a lounging attitude, sinks into slovenly flatness, rounding the back, and projecting the shoulders! On the one side, I have seen a finely-proportioned figure transform herself into a perfect fright by this awkward neglect of all propriety and grace; and, on the other, I am acquainted with a lady, whose beauty, taken in the common acceptation of the word, would not obtain her a second look, but in the elegance of her manners, in the dignity of her carriage, in the taste and disposition of her attire, and in the thousand inexpressible charms which distinguish the gentlewoman, she is so powerful that none can behold her without captivation.

A late author, in a work entitled, “Remarks on the English and French Ladies,” very ably points out the superior attention which the women of France pay to the cultivation of their air and manners; and he proceeds, with no inconsiderable degree of eloquence, to exhort the British fair not to lose, by a careless neglect, the advantages which nature has given them over the _belles_ of _la grande nation_.

“It must not be dissembled,” says this writer, “that our much fairer countrywomen (the English) are too often apt to forget that native charms may receive considerable improvement by attending to the regulation of carriage and motion. They ought to be reminded, that it is chiefly by an attention of this kind, that the Frenchwomen, though unable to rival them in such exterior perfections as are the gift of nature, attain, however, to a degree of eminence in other accomplishments, that effaces the recollection of their inferiority in personal charms.” He proceeds to observe, that “the gracefulness of a French lady’s step is always a subject of high commendation in the mouth even of Frenchmen;” and again he says, “conscious where their advantage lies, they spare no pains to improve that grace of manner, that fund of vivacity, which are in their nature so agreeable, and which they know so well how to manage to the best effect.”

My intimacy with the French manners makes me quote these short extracts with greater pleasure; and as I bear witness to the truth of their evidence, I hope that an amiable ambition will unite in the breasts of the British fair, to rise as much superior to their French rivals in all feminine graces, as our British heroes are to the French on the seas! We shall then see cultivated understandings, unaffected cheerfulness, and manners of an enchantment not to be exceeded by the fairest sorceresses in beauty and grace.

_Sorceresses_ I would make you, my gentle friends; but your spells should be those of nature and of virtue. While I exhort you to preserve your persons in comeliness, to array yourselves in elegance and sweet attractive grace, I would not lead you to believe, that these are all your charms; that these are sufficient “to take the captive soul of love, and lap it in Elysium!” No; woman was created for higher attainments; many a heart was formed to pant for dearer joys than these can produce. Woman must, in every respect, and at all times, regard her form as a secondary object; her mind is the point of her first attention; it is the strength of her power; the part that links her with angels; and, as such, she must respect, cultivate, and exalt it.

But as these familiar pages are expressly intended as a little treatise on _the dress_ of these admirable qualities, I do not suppose it demanded of me to enter so minutely into the subject of mind, as I otherwise should have esteemed it my duty. We have before admitted, that while on this earth wandering amongst the erring and voluptuous sons of men, virtue must be clad in an attractive garb, else few will love her for herself. To this end, then, like Solon of Athens, I give the best directions the inmates of this gay world are capable of receiving--though, perhaps, not the best I could lay down. I would win the too earth-clinging soul by his senses, to give up his sensual enjoyments, and, caught by earthly charms, see and feel his connexion, and leaving the grosser part, aspire to mingle being with those alone which partake of immortality.

It is not by the showy attire of meretricious splendor, by the seductive air of Sybaritical refinement, that I would effect this. “It is good that virtue keep ever with its like!” my means should ever be consistent with their object. So, with me, beauty, elegance, and grace, should be the only pleaders for the empire of morals and religion. On these principles, as I am aware that the most estimable and amiable qualities adorn the wives and daughters of our isle, I cannot but be the more solicitous that their outward deportment and appearance should exhibit a fair specimen of their inward worth.

“An upright heart, and sensibility of soul, are doubtlessly the most noble qualifications of the fair sex. These, Englishwomen possess in an eminent degree. But there are lighter, and perhaps more catching attractions, which, though they will not bear a competition, are nevertheless great smoothers of the rough passages of life, and very necessary conducives to social happiness.”

It is the opinion of wiser heads than mine, that no circumstance, however trifling in itself, should be neglected, which strengthens the bonds of an honorable and mutual attachment; and so great is the privilege allowed for this purpose, that it is deemed laudable in woman to collect into herself all the innocent advantages, mentally and corporeally, which may render her most admirable and precious in the eyes of him who may be, or is, her husband.

This latter sentiment reminds me to impress upon my young friend, that there are shades of demeanor which must be varied according to the sex, degree, and affinity of the persons with whom she converses. To men of all ranks and relations, she must ever hold a reserve on certain subjects, and indeed on almost every occasion, that she does not deem necessary to observe with regard to her own sex. To inferiors of both sexes she must ever preserve a gracious condescension; but to the men a certain air of majesty must be mixed with it, that she need not assume to the women. To her equals, particularly of the male sex, her manners must never lose sight of a dignity sufficient to remind them that she expects respect will be joined with probable intimacy. In short, no intimacy should ever be so familiar as to allow of any infringement on the decent reserves which are the only preservers of refinement in friendship and love. What are called _cronies_ amongst girls, are among the worst of connexions, as they generally are the very hotbeds of fancified love-fits, secrecies, and really vulgar tale-bearing.

“Celestial friendship!
Whene’er she stoops to visit earth, one shrine
The goddess finds, and one alone,
To make her sweet amends for absent Heaven,--
The bosom of a friend, where heart meets heart,
Reciprocally soft--
Each other’s pillow to repose divine!”

This friendship is indeed the gift of Heaven--a boon more precious than much fine gold; but it is not usually to be found in school _cronies_, or in the confidence of misses, whose unbosomings usually consist of flirtations, complaints against parents and guardians, and schemes for future parties of pleasure. Friendship is too sacred for these pretenders; under her influence, “heart meets heart,” and acknowledges her as the pledge of Heaven to man, of immortality, and endless joys. To such an intimate your whole soul may be laid open. But such an intimate is rare. You may meet her once in the shape of a female friend, and in that of a tender husband! But believe not that her appearance will be more frequent. Hers are “like angels’ visits, few and far between!” Earth would be too much like heaven were it otherwise.

To the generality, then, of your equals, while you are affable and amiable with them all, you must be intimate with few, and preserve an ingenuous reserve with most. Show them your sense of propriety demands a certain distance, and with redoubled respect they will yield what you require. With men of your acquaintance, you ought to be more reserved than with women. But while I counsel such dignity of manners, you must not suppose that I mean starchness, stiffness, prudery; I only recommend the modesty of the virgin--the sober dignity of matron years.

The present familiarity between the sexes is both shocking to delicacy, and to the interests of women. Woman is now treated by the generality of men with a freedom that levels her with the commonest and most vulgar objects of their amusements. She is addressed as unceremoniously, treated as cavalierly, and left as abruptly, as the veriest puppet they could pick up at a Bartholomew Fair.

We no longer see the respectful bow, the look of polite attention, when a gentleman approaches a lady. He runs up to her; he seizes her by the hand, shakes it roughly, asks a few questions, and, to show that he has no interest in her answers, flies off again before she can make a reply.

To cure our coxcombs of this conceited impertinence, I would strongly exhort my young and lovely readers. When any man, who is not privileged by the right of friendship or of kindred, to address her with an air of affection, attempts to take her hand, let her withdraw it immediately, with an air so declarative of displeasure, that he shall not presume to repeat the offence. At no time ought she to volunteer shaking hands with a male acquaintance, who holds not any particular bond of esteem with regard to herself or family. A touch, a pressure of the hands, are the only external signs a woman can give of entertaining a particular regard for certain individuals; and to lavish this valuable power of expression upon all comers, upon the impudent and contemptible, is an indelicate extravagance which, I hope, needs only to be exposed to be put forever out of countenance.

As to the salute, the pressure of the lips--that is an interchange of affectionate greeting, or tender farewell, sacred to the dearest connexions alone. Our parents--our brothers--our near kindred--our husband--our lover, ready to become our husband,--our bosom’s inmate, the friend of _our heart’s core_--to them are exclusively consecrated the lips of delicacy, and wo be to her who yields them to the stain of profanation!