Part 6
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.