lIAND-BOOK OF ETI QUETTE
Rattan of    oll"W$Umto
NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY JAMES MILLERE
(8UooESSOR TO 0. s. FRANCIS & 00.)
79 BROADWAY.








PREFACE,
Tim obvious utility of a work on the
plan of that which is now submitted to
the public, is such as to require but very
few words in the way of preface or apology. In that part of it which relates to
Etiquette, the author has endeavoured to
give a summary view of the laws relating
to the intercourse of society which are
clearly established and well understood
among persons of polite education. No
work of the kind would pretend to give
la ws; but a simple statement of those
which prevail among well-bred people,
has been attempted; with what succes
5




the intelligent reader will have no difficulty in deciding.
In the advice which forms the concluding portion of the volume, the author
has kept utility in view; and has touched
upon many topics which, though hitherto
neglected in works of this description, are
worthy of careful attention from those of
the fair sex who deem it important to
become graceful in deportment and attractive in manner, as well as intelligent
and accomplished.




CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION............P........ Page 9
PROrRIETY OF DEPORTMENT............  17
AT HOME, AND FROM HOME......... 2
VISITING.................................  35
TABLE............................  49
SALUTATIONS AND CEREMONIES...............  56
DRESS...................................   60
BALLS, CONCERTS, AND EVENING PARTIES.....   68
LETTERS AND PRESENTS....~..............    75
MARRIAGE...........................  88
SERVANTS..............................    93
THE IMPORTANCE AND UTILITY OF EXERCISE..  90
APPROPRIATION OF EXERCISE................ 108
PRESERVATION AND IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.  11
CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR................   132
DANCING................................ 150
SINGING AND PLAYING................ 166
DRAWING, READING, &C.................. 172
VOICE, DEPORTMENT, AND DRESS.............          175
DIGNITY AND FAMILIARITY OF DEPORTMENT... 178
CONCLUSION............................... 183
APPENDIX. -- ON THE USE OF CORSETS........ 195
RECIPES........              C...,e   211
7








mTRODUCTIONO.
la the introduction of one gentleman to another,
great prudence and caution must be used by the
really polite man; but in the introduction of ladies
to each other, and to gentlemen, infinitely more
care is necessary, as a lady cannot shake off an
improper acquaintance with the same facility as a
gentleman can do, and their character is much
easier affected by apparent contact with the worth"
less and the dissipated.
It is incumbent, therefore, on ladies to avoid all
proffers of introductions, unless from those on
whom, from relationship or other causes, they can
place the most implicit confidenceo
1                9




INTRODUCTIONS.
As a general rule, ladies may always at once
accord to any offers of introduction that may pro
ceed from  a father, mother, husband, sister, or
brother; those from intimate cousins and tried
friends are aio to  be eonsideled favourably,
although not to be entitled to the same implicit
reliance as the former,
No person of correct feeling will make an intro.
duction to a lady, without having first apprized
her of it, and obtained her consent.
Formerly it was the habit for the ladies to curtsey
on being introduced, but this has latterly been
changed into the more easy and graceful custom
of bowing.
The habit of saluting and shaking hands is now
quite obsolete, except in some country towns where
ladies at first introductions salute other ladies by
kissing them on the cheek, and fervently shake
the hands of the gentlemen.
At present, in the best society, all that a lady
ss called upon to do, upon a first introduction either
10




SNTIODUCTLIONS
to a lady cr a gentleman, is to make a slight, ily
gracious inclination of the head.
Upon one lady meeting another for the second
or subsequent times, the hand may be extended in
supplement to the inclination of the head; but no
lady should ever extend her hand to a gentleman,
unless she is very intimate,-a bow at meeting
and one at parting, is all that is necessary.
Ladies should never bow hastily, but with slow
and measured dignity.
If you wish to avoid the company of any one
that has been properly introduced, satisfy your own
mind that your reasons are correct; and then let
no inducement cause you to shrink from treating
him with respect, at the same time shunning hia
company. No gentleman will thus be able either
to blame or mistake you.
If, in travelling, any one introduces himself to
you, and does it in a proper and respectful manner,
conduct yourself towards him with politeness, ease,,nd dignity; if he is a gentleman, he will appr~11




INTRODUCTIONS.
iate your behaviour-and if not a gentleman will
ne deterred from annoying you; but acquaintanceships thus formed must cease where they began,
and your entering into conversation with a lady
or gentleman in a boat or a coach does not give
any of you a right to after recognition.  If any
one introduces himself to you in a manner betray.
ing the least want of respect, either towards you
or himself, you can only turn from him in dignified
silence,-and if he presumes to address you further, then there is no punishment too severe.
Be very cautious of giving a gentleman a letter
of introduction to a lady; for remember, in proportion as you are esteemed by the lady to whom
it is addressed, so do you claim for your friend her
good wishes, —and such letters are often the means
ef settling the weal or the woe of the parties for
life. Ladies should never themselves, unless upon
eases of the most urgent business, deliver introiuctory letters, but should send them in an e~i
velope inclosing their card.
12




SNTIODUCTLIONS
to a lady cr a gentleman, is to make a slight, ily
gracious inclination of the head.
Upon one lady meeting another for the second
or subsequent times, the hand may be extended in
supplement to the inclination of the head; but no
lady should ever extend her hand to a gentleman,
unless she is very intimate,-a bow at meeting
and one at parting, is all that is necessary.
Ladies should never bow hastily, but with slow
and measured dignity.
If you wish to avoid the company of any one
that has been properly introduced, satisfy your own
mind that your reasons are correct; and then let
no inducement cause you to shrink from treating
him with respect, at the same time shunning hia
company. No gentleman will thus be able either
to blame or mistake you.
If, in travelling, any one introduces himself to
you, and does it in a proper and respectful manner,
conduct yourself towards him with politeness, ease,,nd dignity; if he is a gentleman, he will appr~11




INTRODUCTIONS.
if any one requests a letter of introductin, and
you do not consider that it would be prudent, either
in respect to your situation with the person so requesting it, or with the one to whom it would be
addressed, refuse it with firmness, and allow no
inducement whatever to alter your purpose.
On your introduction to society, be modest, reti.
ring, unassuming, and dignified; pay respect to all,
but most to those who pay you the most, provided
it is respectful and timely.
Remember that the principal beauty in the fe.
male character, is modesty to all, and polite reserve
to those you know little regarding; modesty is of
itself so beautiful, that it often conquers when a
pretty face or a handsome form is overlooked.
Never be afraid to blush when the feeling is
genuine, but never affect to blush when you do
not feel it-remember that blushing is more fre.
quently the attendant of innocence than of guilt.
Modesty does not only show itself in the face,
but also in the dress, and more. particularly in the
l14




INTRODUCTIONS.
manner, and is always a proof of good and liberai
education; no lady can be polite who is not modest
and retiring; female politeness is itself the very
essence of modesty.
It is much better for a lady to say too little in
company than too much; her conversation should
always be consistent with her sex and age; and
although it may sometimes be bright and witty,
yet it should not always be so.
Men frequently look with a jealous eye on a
learned woman, and are apt to denominate her a
blue; be cautious, therefore, in a mixed company
of showing yourself too much beyond those around
you.  To a mind well formed there is more real
pleasure derived from the silent consciousness of
superiority, than in the ostentatious display of it
It is possible to be silent, and yet not dull,-the
silent eyes are often a more powerful conqueror
than the noisy tongue; but be not, therefore, apparently careless to the conversation of others,as the eyes can tell whether you are absent or not




INTRODUCTIONS.
although the mouth gives no audible token of presence.
Avoid all indelicate expressions, and appear not
to understand any that may be uttered in your
presence. Some ladies not only relish double en.
tendres, but actually use them.  Yet, however
much it may create a feeling of cleverness at the
moment, cool reflection is afterwards sure to condemn it both on the part of the speaker and listener.
Such discourse, wanton glances, and lightness of
carriage, are considered by men as gauntlets to
dare them to speak and act in a more free and unguarded manner than they otherwise would have
the boldness to do.
Let it be impressed upon your mind, that many
ladies have lost their character through a little
indiscretion on these heads-and it is as bad with
the world to appear to have lost caste, as realyj
to have lost it.
16




PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT
PROPRIETY of deportment, or bienseance, is a
nappy union of the moral and the graceful, and
should be considered in two points of view; it
ought, therefore, to direct us in our important duties, as well as in our more trifling enjoyments.
When we regard it only under this last aspect,
some contend that mere intercourse with the world
gives a habit and taste for those modest and obliging observances which constitute true politeness;
but this is an error.  Propriety of deportment is
the valuable result of a knowledge of one's self
and of respect for the rights of others; it is a feel
ing of the sacrifices which are imposed on selfesteem by our own social relations; it is, in shor,




PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMEN'T.
i sacred requireiment of harmony and affection
But the usage of the world is merely the gloss
r rather the imitation of propriety; and when
iot based upon sincerity, modesty, and courtesy,
it consists in being inconstant in every thing, and
In amusing itself by playing off its feelings and
cidicule against the defects and excellencies of,thers. Thanks to custom, —it is sufficient, in
order to be recognised as amiable, that she who
is the subject of a malicious pleasantry may laugh
as well as the author of it.
The usage of the world is, therefore, often
nothing more than a skilful calculation of vanity,
a futile game, a superficial observance of form, a
talse politeness, which would lead to frivolity or
perfidy, did not true politeness animate it with
delicacy, reserve, and benevolence. Would that
custom had never been separated from this virtu
ous amiability! We should then never see well
intentioned, and good people, suspicious of polite.
ness; and when victims to the deceitful justly




PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT.
exclaim with bitterness, "This is your woman of
politeness!" nor should we ever have made a
distinction between the fixed principles of virtue,
and what is fit and expedient.  The love of good,
in a word, virtue, is then the soul of politeness;
and the feeling of a just harmony, between our
interest and our social relations, is indispensable
to this agreeable quality.  Excessive gaiety, extravagant joy, great depression, anger, love, jealousy, avarice, and generally all the passions, are
too often dangerous shoals to propriety of deportment.
Moderation in everything is so essential, that it
is even a violation of propriety itself, to affect too
much the observance of it. It is to propriety, its
justice and attractions, that we owe all the charm
of sociality.  At once the effect and cause of
civilization, it avails itself of the grand spring of
the human mind, sell love, in order to purify and
ennoble it; to substitute for pride, and all those
egotistical or offensive feelings which it generates,
19




PROPRIETY OP DEPORTMENT.
oenevolence, with all the amiable and generous
sentiments which it inspires. In an assemblage
of truly polite people, all evil seems to be
unknown; what is just, estimable, and good, or
what we call fit or suitable, is felt on all sides;
actions, manners, and language, alike indicate it,
And if we place in this select assembly, one
who is a stranger to the advantages of a polite
education, she will at once be made sensible of the
value of it, and will immediately desire to display
the same urbanity by which she has been pleased.
If politeness is necessary in general, it is not
less'so in particular cases. Neither rank, talents,
fortune, nor beauty, can dispense with this amenity
of manners; nor can anything inspire regard or
love, without graceful affability, mild dignity, and
elegant simplicity. If all the world feels the
truth of the verse which is now a proverb,' Cette grace plus belle encore que la beaute,"
every one also is sensible, tbat grace in con/erring
20




PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT.
a favour, affects more than the favour itself, and
that a kind smile, or an affectionate tone, penetrates the heart more deeply than the most bril
liant elocution.
As to the technical part of politeness, or forms
alone, the intercourse of society, and good advice,
are undoubtedly useful; but the grand secret of
never failing in propriety of deportment, is to
have an intention of always doing what is right.
With such a disposition of mind, exactness in observing what is proper appears to all to possess a
charm and influence; and then not only do mistakes become excusable, but they become even
interesting from their thoughtlessness and naivete.
Be, therefore, modest and benevolent, and do not
distress yourself on account of the mistakes of
your inexperience; a little attention, and the
advice of a friend will soon correct these trifling
errors.
21




AT HOME, AND FROM HIOME
To receive visitors with ease and elegance, and
in such a manner that every thing in you, and
about you, shall partake of propriety and grace,to endeavour that people may always be satisfied
when they leave you, and be desirous to come
again, —are the obligations of the master, and
especially of the mistress, of a house.
Every thing in the house ought, as far as pos.
sible, to offer solid comfort, and true grace.
Perfect order, exquisite neatness and elegance,
which easily dispense with  being  sumptuous,
ought to mark the entrance of the house, the fur.
niture, and the dress of the lady.
In a house where affluence abounds, it is indis
22




AT ROME, AND 0  ROM HOMME.
pensable to have a drawing-room; if that caneo
be afforded, then let the receiving room be the
parlour  To receive company in a dining-room
is not allowed, except among those who cannot
bear the expense of furnishing a parlour or drawing-room. Simplicity admitted into an apartment
of this kind, suited to smallness of means, we
cannot but approve, while we regret, nevertheless
the disagreeable things to which such a residence
subjects the parties. But we have, in this respect
an express warning to hold out to people whc
give themselves up to it unnecessarily, for it is
altogether opposed to the received usages of good
society to put yourselves in a situation which you
cannot adorn; then you are exposed to receiving
twenty visits during dinner, of seeing as many
interruptions during the setting of your table,
since it is impossible to spread the cloth properly,
etc. while strangers remain; finally, of having
them witness your domestic cares while removing
the remains of a repast, the table-cloth, dishes, etc




AT HOME, AND FROM HiOML
Unless from  absolute inability, you ought to
light your staircase. If the practices of good
domestic economy, regulated by the cares of
civilization, were more generally extended, an
unlighted staircase would not often be found.
After having thus cast a rapid glance into the
interior of the house, let us see in what manner
it is necessary to receive visitors. When any
one enters, whether announced or not, rise immediately, advance towards them, request them to
sit down; avoiding, however, the old form  of
"Take the trouble to be seated," "Come off the
door and into the fire," etc. If it is a young man,
offer him  an arm-chair, or a stuffed one; if an
elderly man, insist upon his accepting the arm.
chair; if a lady, beg her to be seated upon the
sofa. If the master of the house receives the
visitors, he will take a chair and place himself at
a little distance from them; if, on the contrary, it
is the mistress of the house, and if she is intimate
with the lady who visits her, she will place her24




AT HOME, AND FROM  IOME,
self near her. If several ladies come at onc,, we
give the most honourable place to the one who
from age, or other considerations, is most entitled
to respect. In winter, the most honourable places
are those at the corners of the fire-place: in proportion as they place you in front of the fire, your
seat is considered inferior in rank.  Moreover,
when it happens to be a married lady, and one to
whom we wish to do honour, take her by the hand,
and conduct her to the corner of the fire-place.
If this place is occupied by a young lady, she
ought to rise, and offer her seat to the other, taking
bfr herself a chair in the middle of the circle.
A mistress of a house ought to watch anxiously
that her guests experience no restraint before her.
If a door or window happens to be open in the
room in summer time, she should ask of visitors
if it incommodes them.
If a lady who receives a half ceremonious visit,
ifs sewing, she ought to leave off immediately, and
not resume it, except at the request of the visitor
D               25




AT HOME, AND FROM HOME.
i tt~V aIe on quite intimate terms, she oulif,
nMself to request permission to continue.  If a
person visits in an entirely ceremonious way, it
would be very iumpGlite to work even an instant.
Moreover, with firiends a lady should hardly be
ocupied with her work, but seem  to forget it on
their account.
In proportion as the visitor is a stranger, the
master or mistress of the house rises, and any
persons who may be already there, are obliged to
do the same.  If some of them  then withdraw,
the master or mistress of the house should conduct them as far as the door. But whoever the
person be who departs, if we have other company,
we may dispense with conducting them  farther
than the door of the room. The manner in which
we usually re-conduct visitors is regulated in an
invariable mode. If it is a lady who is to be accompanied, the master of the house takes her hand,
passes it under his arm, and thus leads her as far as.be bottom of the stair case, (if the parlour or draw
26




AT HOME, AND FROM HOME.
ing room should be on the second floor) unless the
steps be so narrow that two cannot go abreast. It
is no longer the custom to give the hand to ladies,
but to offer them the arm. This new custom does
not at all change the ancient rule of propriety
which requires, that, in descending a staircase, we
should give the side next the wall to the lady
whom we accompany; we commonly present to
her the right arm, provided, however, that necessity does not oblige us, in order to avoid placing
her next the balustrade, to offer the left. If she
is to return in a carriage, we should politely hand
her into it.
We no longer practise that frank and open hospitality, by virtue of which, in the middle of
winter, we request people to refresh themselves
with some solid eatables.  Such a proposal would
now excite a smile; *he only refieshment now
offered is a glass of wine.  When a billet of announcement has informed you, as is customary,
lb-. A   eceding invitation on your part will bring
27




AT HOME, AND FROM HOME.
guests to your house, you must begin and carefully arrange the apartments you intend for them,
They should have a good bed, a bureau, a fire in
the winter and every thing which can contribute
to their comfort; a wash-hand basin, water, glass
tumblers, &c. every thing which will contribute
to neatness, or elegance, ought to be placed in the
apartment.
These preliminaries being arranged, a little
before the appointed hour of their arrival, you
must wait patiently till they come.  You should
then congratulate them; express the pleasure you
enjoy in receiving them, inquire kindly about the
incidents of their journey, and request them te
make your house their home; this finishes the
second series of the duties of hospitality.
The third class of obligations, is assiduity to your
guests, otherwise it would seem to them, that their
presence is troublesome. To you belongs the care
of kindly offering to their view every thing in your
house, in the city, or in the country, which is inter.
28




AT HOME, AND FROM HOME.
esting; of making parties in honour of them, as
dinner-parties of their friends, or such as it is presumed will please them; these are obligations of
hospitality which you cannot omit. When visitors
show any intention of leaving you, you ought
affectionately to endeavour to detain them; nevertheless, if their resolution seems immoveable, renew your invitations for another visit, and your
regret at not having been able to succeed better
in retaining them.  To do the honours of one's
own house, it is necessary to have tact, address,
and knowledge of the world, a great evenness of
temper, and much affability.  It is necessary to
forget one's self, in order to be occupied with
others, but without hurry or affectation; to encou
rage timid persons, and put them at their eased
and to enter into conversation, directing it with
address rather than sustaining it ourselves. The
mistress of a house ought to be obliging, of an equal
temper, and attentive in accommodating herself
so the particular tastes of every one, especially to
29




AT IOME, AND lROM HOME.
appear delighted that guests are with her, and
make themselves perfectly at home. They, on
their part, should show themselves contented and
grateful for the reception that is given; and should
immediately on arriving at home, write to the
persons who have entertained them, a letter of
cordial thanks.
The duties of hospitality are of frequent recurrence, fatiguing, and troublesome, but they are an
indispensable obligation. To omit them, is to be
willing to pass for a person of no education, and
no delicacy; in short, it is to place people in a most
embarrassing and painful situation.
At home and abroad the carriage of the body is
as expressive as the tone of the voice, and perhaps
more so, because it is more constant; it betrays
to the observer all the shades of character, and
you ought to be very careful of thus making a
general confession, by affected manners, a pretend.
ing deportment, sneering ways, rough movements
a hard countenance, impertinent signs and looks
30




AT HOME, AND FROM HOME.
simpering smiles, clownish gestures, a nonchalaut
and effeminate posture, or a carriage of the bod)
distinguished by prudery and stiffness.
Young ladies, little habituated to the world,
ought to be on their guard against excessive timid"
ity, for it not only paralyzes their powers, renders
them awkward, and gives them an almost silly air,
but it may even cause them to be accused of pride,
among people who do not know that embarrassment frequently takes the form of supercilious
ness.
How often does it happen that timid persons do
not notice you at all, or answer in a low voice, and
fail in numberless agreeable attentions, for want
of courage! These attentions, and these duties,
they discharge in petto, but who will thank thorm
for it?  A proper degree of confidence, but not
degenerating into assurance, still less into bolaness or familiarity, is then one of the most desirable qualities in the world.  To obtain which, you
must observe the ton, and the manner of polite
31




AT IIHOE, AND FROM HOME.
mnd obliging people, take them for your guides
and under their direction make continual effor'
to conquer your timidity.
Good temper, and good nature, are the real
essentials to true politeness, and the most artfibL
polish can never impart the "je ne sais quoi" of
elegance, where these two requisites are wanting.
Propriety in the carriage of the body is espe.
cially indispensable to ladies. It.is by this that,
in a walk, or any assembly, people, who cannot
converse with them, judge of their merit and their
good education.
How many dancers move off, and how many
persons sigh with pity, at the sight of a beautiful
woman who has a mincing way, affects grace, indines her head affectedly, and who seems to admire
herself incessantly, and to invite others to admire
ler also! Who ever makes up his mind to enter
into conversation with an immoveable lady, ana
one who is formal and precise, stretching out the
32




AT HC ME, AND tROM HOME.
iody, pressing the lips, and carrying back the
elbows as if they were fastened to her side!
The gait of a lady ought neither to be too quick
nor too slow: the most easy and most convenient
step is that which fatigues the least, and pleases
most.  The body and the head should be erect
without affectation, and without haughtiness; the
movements, especially those of the arms, easy and
natural. The countenance should be pleasant and
modest.
It is not in good ton for a lady to speak too quick
or too loud.  When seated, she ought neither to
cross her legs nor take a vulgar attitude. She
should occupy her chair entirely, and appear
neither too restless nor too immoveable.
It is altogether out of place for a lady to spread
out her dress for display, or to throw her drapery
round her in sitting down, as upstarts do to avoid
the least rumple.  But what is especially to be
avoided in ladies is, an unquiet, bold, and imperious
air, for it is unnatural, and not allowable in any
E              -3




AT HOME, AND FROM HOtME.
case. If a lady has cares, let her conceal them fomn
the world, or not go into it.  Whatever be her
merit, let her not forget, that she may be a man
in the superiority of her mind and decision of
character, but that externally she ought to appear
a woman.
An affectionate, complying, and almost timid
aspect, a tender solicitude for those who are about
her, should be shown in a lady's whole person.
Her face should breathe hope, gentleness, and
satisfaction; dejection, anxiety, and ill humour
shRuld be constantly banished.,




VISIT1NO
ViaiTS are a very important part of Etiquette
they are not merely the simple means of com
munication established by necessity, since they
have at once for their object, duty and pleasure,
but they enter into almost all the acts of life.
There are many kinds of visits; the first are the
visits on new-years-day; next those of friendship
and of ceremony.
At the return of each new-year, custom and
duty require us sometimes to present ourselves to
our relations first; afterwards to our patrons, cur
friends, and those who have done any kindness
for us. These visits are divided into several classes;
those of the afternoon, which are the most polite;
of the morning, which are the most fiiendly and?35




VISITING.
respectful; by cards, and presenting one's self
Visits weekly, which are confined to acquaintances
with whom  we have not very close relations;
monthly, which are no less ceremonious, but,
however, partake of coldness; it is at Paris more
than at any other place, that these visits are per.
mitted; such calls demand much attention to the
toilette; they should be as short as possible; a
visit of a quarter of an hour is long enough, and
we should be careful to retire when other persons
come in.
It would be ridiculous to wish persons a happy
new-year, in ceremonious visits.
It is not necessary to mention friendly calls,
except to state, that almost all ceremony should
be dispensed with.  They are made at all hours
without much preparation or dressing; a too bril.
liant attire would be out of place, and if the en
gagement of the day carry you in such a costume
to the house of a friend, you ought obligingly
to make an explanation.
86




VISITING.
Should you not find the person you call on at
home, leave a card.
With a friend or relation whom we treat as
such, we do not keep an account of our visits.'I he
one who has most leisure, calls upon the one who
has the least; but this privilege ought not to be
abused; it is necessary to make our visits of friendship at suitable times.  On the contrary, a visit
of ceremony should never be made without keeping an account of it, and we should even remember the intervals at which they are returned, for
it is indispensably necessary to let a similar interval elapse.  People in this way give you notice
whether they wish to see you often or seldom.
There are some persons whom one goes to see
once in a fortnight; others, once a month; and
others, less frequently.
In order not to omit visits, which are to be made,
or to avoid making them from  misinformation,
when I preceding one has not been returned,
persons who have an extensive acquaintance will
37




VISITING.
do well to keep a little memorandum-book for thim
purpose.
We cannot make ceremonious visits in a becoming' manner, if we have any slight indisposi
tion which may for the time affect our appearance
or voice, which may embarrass our thoughts, and
render our company fatiguing. To take a suitable
time for one's self, or for others, is indispensable
in visiting, as in every thing else; if you can obtain this by remembering the habits of the person
you are going to see, by making arrangements so
as not to call at the time of taking meals, in
moments of occupation, and when they are likely
to be walking. This time necessarily varies; but
as a general rule we must take care not to make
ceremonious visits, either before the middle of the
day or after four o'clock. To do otherwise would, on
the one hand, look like importunity, by presenting
one's self too early, and on the other might interfere with arrangements that had been made for
the evenilhg.  After making one's toilette with
88




VISITING.
tare, visitors should furnish themselves with cards,
Gentlemen ought simply to put their cards into
their pocket, but ladies may carry them in a small
elegant portfolio, called a card-case.  This they
can hold in their hand, and it wil. contribute es.
sentially (with an elegant handkerchiefof embroidered cambric,) to give them an air of good taste.
On visiting cards, the address is usually placed
under the name, towards the bottom of the card,
and in smaller letters.  Mourning cards are surmounted with a broad blackmargin; half mourning ones, with a black edge only.
It is bad ton to keep the cards you have received
around the frame of a looking-glass; such an exposure shows that you wish to make a display of the
names of visitors.  When from some cause or
other, which multiplies visitors at your house,
(such as a funeral or a marriage,) you are obliged
to return these numerous calls, it is not amiss to
preserve the Cards in a convenient place, and save
a 11




VISITING.
yourselfthe trouble of writing a list; but if, during
tne year, your glass is always seen bristling with
smoke-dried cards, it will be attributed, without
doubt, to an ill-regulated self esteem. If the call
is made in a carriage, the servant will ask if the
lady you wish to see is at home.  If persons call
on foot, they go themselves to ask the servants.
Servants are considered as soldiers on duty; if
they reply that the person has gone out, we should
by no means urge the point even if we were certain it was not the case; and if by chance we
should see the person, we should appear not to
have noticed it, but leave our card, retire, and
never call again.  When the servant informs us
that the lady or gentleman is unwell, engaged
in business, or dining, we must by all means
retire.
Within fifteen years past, it has been the custom
with ladies to take off their hats and shawls; but
that supposes an intimacy which would authorize
their abstaining from it, at the houses of those
40




VISITING.
with whom they are not much acquainted; and if
tney are invited to lay them aside, they should
refuse. The short time devoted to a ceremonious
visit, the necessity of consulting a glass in replacing the head-dress, and of being assisted in
putting on the shawl, prevent ladies from accepting the invitation to lay them aside. If they are
slightly familiar with the person they are visiting
and wish to be more at ease, they should ask per
mission, which should be granted them, at the
same time rising, to assist them in taking off their
hat and shawl. An arm-chair, or a piece of furniture at a distant part of the room, should receive
these articles; they should not be placed upon
the couch, without the mistress of the house puts
them there.
At the house of a person whom we visit habitual.'y, we can lay them aside without saying a word,
and a lady can even adjust her hair, &c. before the
glass, provided she occupies only a few moments
r doing it. If the person you call upon is prepay
p             41




VISITING.
ing to go out, or to sit down at tatle, you ought,
although asked to remain, to retire as soon as pos.
sible. The person visited so unseasonably, should,
on her part, be careful to conceal her knowledge,
that the other wishes the visit ended quickly.
We should always appear delighted to receive
visitors; and should they make a short visit, you
must express your regret.
Ceremonious visits should be short; if the conversation ceases without being again continued by
the person you have come to see, and if she gets
up from her seat under any pretext whatever, custom  requires you to make your salutation and
withdraw. If, before this tacit invitation to retire,
other visitors are announced, you should adroitly
leave them without saying much. If, while you
are present, a letter is brought to the person you
are visiting, and she should lay it down withoul
opening it, you must entreat her to read it; she
will probably not do so, and this circumstance wil'i
tarn you to shorten your visit.  When you make
42




VISITING.
a half-ceremonious call, and the person you are
visiting insists upon your stopping, it is proper to
do so, but after a few minutes you should rise to
go; if you are urged still further, and are taken
by the hands and made to sit down, as it were
by force, to leave immediately would be impolite; but, nevertheless, after a short interval, get
up a third time, and then certainly retire. To
carry children or dogs with one on a visit of
ceremony, is altogether vulgar.  Even in half
ceremonious visits, it is necessary to leave one's
dog in the ante-room; the nurse who holds the
infant, must also be left without the drawingroom, and this circumstance sufficiently excuses
such a suite.
As for animals, it is a thousand times better
not to have them at all.
Young married ladies are at liberty to visit by
themselves their acquaintances, but they cannot
present themselves in public, without their hus.
band or an aged lady.  They are at liberty, how
43




VISITING.
eyer, to walk with young married ladies or un
married ones, while the latter should never walk
alone with their companions.  Neither should
they show themselves, except with a gentleman
of their family; and then he should be a near
relation of respectable age.
Except in certain provincial towns, where-there
is a great strictness in behaviour, young married
ladies receive the visits of gentlemen; they permit their company in promenades, without suffering the least injury to their reputation, provided
it is always with men of good morals, and that
they take care to avoid every appearance of coquetry.
Young widows have equal liberty with married
ladies.
A lady ought not to present herself alone in a
library, or a museum, unless she goes there to
study, or work as an artist.
A lady ought to have a modest and measured
gait; too great hurry injures the grace which
44




VISITING.
should always characterize her. She should not
turn her head on one side and the other, especial.
iy in large towns, where this bad habit seems to
be an invitation to the impertinent. If such per.
sons address her, she should take good care not
to answer them  a word. If they persist, she
should tell them in a brief and firm, though polite
tone, that she desires to be left to herself. If a
man follow her in silence, she should pretend not
to perceive him, and at the same time hasten a
little her step.
After the close of the day, a young  lady
would conduct herself in an unbecoming manner
if she should walk alone; and if she passes the
evening with any one, she ought to take care
that a domestic comes to accompany her; if not,
to request the person whom she is visiting to allow
some one to do so. But, however much this may
be thought proper, and consequently an obliga.
tion, a married lady, well educated, will disregard
t, if circumstances prevent her being able, withi
out trouble, to find a conductor.
45




VISITING.
If the master of the house wishes to accompany
you himself, you must excuse yourself politely,
from giving him so much trouble; but finish, how.
ever, by accepting.  On arriving at your house,
you should offer him your thanks.
In order to avoid these two inconveniences, it
will be well to request your husband, or some one
of your relations, to come and wait upon you;
you will in this way avoid still another incon
venience. In small towns, where malice is excited by ignorance and want of something to do,
they frequently censure the most innocent acts;
it is not uncommon to hear slanderous and silly
gossips observe, that Madam such a one goes to
Madam such a one's, for the sake of returning
with her husband.  The seeds of such an imputation, once sown, quickly come to maturity.
LThe care of the reputation of ladies further demands that they should have a modest deportment, should abstain from forward manners, and
Qee speeches
46




VISITING.
When any one, who is visiting you, has nee
ot a siawl, or handkerchief, offer it with a comr
plaisant zeal, resist the refusal which is made,
tanl which propriety does iiot require,) select the
best you have, in short, urge the persons not to
be in haste to return tie articles. If it is very
bad weather, and the occasion a proper one, offer
your carriage (if you have one!) or an umbrella,
The articles thus lent should be returned the nesx
day, by a domestic charged to thank the person
for them. But if they are linen, they should not
oe returned without being washed.
When a lady has borrowed ornaments of another.
as, for instance, jewels, the latter should always
offer to lend her more than are asked for; she
ought also to keep a profound silence about tlh
things which she has lent, and even abstain from
wearing them fbr some time after, in order thlt
they may not be recognised.
47




VISITING.
This does not allude to more important loans,
which ire not within the jurisdiction of polite(ess.
It any accident happens to a borrowed article
we must repair the loss immediatels
49.




TABLE.
POLITENESS OUght, as we have seen, to direl
and embellish all the circumstances of life; but
it is, if possible, still more necessary in relation
to pleasures; which without it would have no
attraction. It nr-ay be said, that dining is almost
an event, so many points of propriety has the
mistress of the house to observe.  When we
intend  giving  an  entertainment, we begin by
selecting such guests as may enjoy themselves
together, or at least tolerate one another. If it is
to be a gentlemeni's party, there should be no
lady present exc.pt the lady of the house.  The
dinner being determined upon, we give out, two or
three days beforehand, verbal or written invita-,ions. When: receive a written invitation,
a                49




TABLE.
wve must answer immediately, whether we accept
or not, although silence may be considered equiv
alent to an acceptance. in the latter case, we
should give a plausible reason for our declining,
and do it with politeness. When the invitation
is verbal, we must avoid being urged, for nothing
is more weak and disobliging: we ought either
to accept or refuse in a frank and friendly maD.
ner, offering some reasonable motive for declining, to which we should not again refer. It is
not allowable to be urged, except when we are
requested to dine with some one whom we have
only once seen at the house of a third person, or
when we are invited on a visit or other similar
occasion. In the former case, if we accept, we
should first leave a card, in order to open the
acquaintance. Having once accepted, we cannot
break our engagement, unless for a most urgent
cause. An invitation ought to specify exactly
the hour of meeting, and you should arrive pre.
cisely at that hour. The table should be ready,
50




TABLE.
and the mistress of the house in the drawing
room, to receive the guests. When they are all
assembled, a domestic announces that the dinner
is served up; at this signal we rise immediately,
and wait until the master of the house requests
rs to pass into the dining-room, whither he conducts us by going before. It is quite common for
the lady of the nouse to act as guide to the guests,
while the master offers his hand to the lady of
most distinction.  The guests also give their arms
to the ladies, whom they conduct as far as the
table, and to the places which they are to occupy. Having arrived at the table, each guest respectfully bows to the lady whom he conducts, and
who in her turn bows also. It is one of the first
and most difficult things, properly to arrange the
guests, and to place them in such a manner, that
the conversation may always be general during
the entertainment: we should, as much as possible, avoid putting next one another, two pereons of the same profession, as it would neces51




TABLE
sarily result in an aside dialogue, which would
injure the general conversation, and consequently
the gaiety of the occasion.  The two most distinguished gentlemen ought to be placed next
the mistress of the house; and the two most distinguished ladies next the master of the house;
the right hand is especially the place of honour.
If the number of gentlemen is nearly equal to
that of the ladies, we should take care to intermingle them; we should separate husbands from
their wives, and remove near relations as far from
one another as possible; because, being always
together, they ought not to converse among themselves in a general party.
At table, as well as at all other places, the lady,
of whatever rank, always takes precedence of
the gentleman.
Never refuse taking wine, on being asked,you are not bound to do more than taste of the
wine.
52




TABLE.
It is not etiquette to wear gloves at table, al
though some affect ton and do so.
The younger guests, or those of less distinction,
are placed at the lower end of the table.
As soon as the guests are seated, the lady of
the house serves in plates, from a pile at her left
hand, the soup, which she sends around, beginning
with her neighbours at the right and left, and
continuing in the same order.
A mistress of a house ought never to appear to
pride herself regarding what is on her table, nor
confuse herself with apologies for the bad cheer
which she offers you; it is much better for her to
observe silence in this respect, and leave it to her
guests to pronounce eulogiums on the dinner;
neither is it in good ton to urge guests to eat nor
to load their plate against their inclination.
If a gentleman is seated by the side of a lady or
elderly person, politeness requires him to save
them all trouble of pouring out for themselves to
drink, of procuring anything to eat, and of obtain
53




TABLE
mg whatever they are in want of at the tab.o,
and he should be eager to offer them  what he
thinks to be most to their taste.
It would be impolite to monopolize a conversation which ought to be general. If the company
is large, we should converse with our neighbours,
vising the voice only loud enough to make ourselves heard.
Custom allows ladies at the end of an entertainment to dip their fingers into a glass of water,
and to wipe them with their napkins; it allows
them also to rinse the mouth, using their plate
for this purpose-but custom  sanctions in vain
what is of itself disgusting.
It is for the mistress of the house to give the
signal to leave the table; all the guests then rise,
and, offering their arms to the ladies, wait upon
them to the door.
We should not leave the table before the end
4f the entertainment, unless from urgent necessity.
f it is a married lady, she requests some one to
54




TABLE.
accompany her; if a young lady, she goes wlth
her mother.
The question whether it is proper, or not, to
sing'at table, depends now upon the ton of the
master of the house.  We do not sing at the
houses of people of fashion and the high classes
of society; but we may do it at the social tables
of friends. Here we may repeat what has been
said and proved a thousand times, how ridiculous
it is to be urged when we know how to sing, oi
to insist upon hearing a person sing who has an
invincible timidity.  After dinner we converse,
have music, or what is more common, prepare the
table for games.
During the week which follows the entertainment, each of the guests owes a visit to the person who has been the entertainer.  We usually
converse at this time ot the dinner, of the pleasure we have enjoyed, ari4 of the persons whom
we have met there. This visit has received the
cant name of visite de dii, stion.
5F




SALUTATIONS AND CEREMONIES
IN the first rank of customary formalities, we
place those concerning the health.
We shall, necessarily, have little to say on this
head; there are, however, some little rules which
are not to be neglected. It is proper to vary the
phraseology of these formal questions, as much as
possible; and we must abstain fiom them entirely
towards a superior, or a person with whom we
are but little acquainted, as such inquiries pre.
suppose some degree of intimacy. In the last
ease, there is a method of manifesting our interest, without violating etiquette; it consists
in making these inquiries of the domestics, or of
other persons of the house, and of saying afterwards when introduced,' I am happy, Sir, to heat
56




BALUTATIONS AND CEREMONIES.
that yma  are in good health.' Custom forbids a
lady to make these inquiries of a gentleman, unless he is very ill or very aged. To put a corrective upon this mark of regard, a lady who ad.
dresses a gentleman should be earnest in her inquiries of the health of his family, however little
intimacy she have with them. Many persons ask
this question mechanically, without waiting for
the answer, or else hasten to reply, before they
have received it. This is in bad ton. Inquiries
about the health, it is true, are frequently unimportant, yet they should appear to be dictated by
attention and kindness. We must not, however,
allow ourselves to be deceived, in mentioning a
slight indisposition, to persons who are strangers
to us, because their interest can be only formal.
After we are informed of the health of the person we are visiting, it is proper to inquire of them
in relation to the health of their families; but it
would be wearisome to make a long enumeration
of the members. In case of the absence of near
11             57




SALUTATIONS AND CEREMONIES.
relations, we ask the person we are visiting, if
they have heard from them lately, and if the news
is favourable. They, on their part, ask the same
of us.
When you are not on visits of great ceremony
at the time of taking leave, you are commonly
desired to give the compliments and salutations
of the persons you are visiting to those with whom
you live; then reply briefly, giving them assurances of your regard, &c.
Politeness infuses into visits of some little
ceremony, a colouring of modesty, grace, and
deference, which should be preserved with the
greatest care.
In speaking, it is always proper to give the
name of Sir, Madam, or Miss, and if the sentence
is somewhat long, the title should be repeated.
If the question require a direct answer in the
affirmative or negative, we ought never to say
roughly, yes or no.
If the person addressed has a title, oi that
58




SALUTATIONS AND CEREMONIES.
which he has from his profession, we should give
it him, as, Count, Doctor, &c. In case we meet
with many persons of tie same profession, we can
then distinguish them by adding their name to
the title.
A lady will not sly, My husband, except among
intimates; in every other case she should address
him by his name, calling him Mr.
It is equally good ton, when alone with him,
to designate him by his Christian name.
But when one speaks to a gentleman of the
lady to whom he is married, he should not say
your wife, unless he is intimately acquainted, but
3Mrs. is the most proper. The rules of politeness
in this respect, are the same in speaking of the
husband.
The custom of ladies curtseying in the street
is now perfectly obsolete, except among a few
antiquities who use hoops; when a lady sports a
hoop, she is then, however, entitled to curtseyotherwise she is only required to bow.
59




DRESS.
ArTENTION to one's person, as well as t( their
reputation, is very necessary.  If vanity, pride
or prudery, have frequently given to these attentions the names of coquetry, ambition, or folly, it
is no reason why they should be neglected.
The plainest dress is always the most genteel,
and a lady that dresses plainly will never be
dressed unfashionably.
Next to plainness in every well-dressed lady
is neatness of dress and taste in the selection of
colours. If a lady does not possess a good eye
for colour, she ought never to rely upon her own
judgment in the selection of her patterns, or in
their arrangement upon her person, else she will
be nothing more than a walking violation of al
60




DRESS.
bJe harmony of light and shade; and however
expensively dressed, she will never appear either
genteel or fashionable. Propriety requires that
we should always be clothed in a cleanly and
becoming manner,-even in private, in leaving
our bed, or in the presence of no one, it requires
that our clothing be in keeping with our fortune,
age, and form, as well as with the season, the
different hours of the day, and our different occupations.
The most fashionable dress for a lady on first
rising from bed, is a small muslin cap, and morn.
ing gown of printed cotton. It is well that a half
corset should precede the full corset, which last
is used only when one is dressed; for it is bad
taste for a lady not to be laced at all. The hair
papers, if they cannot be removed on rising,
should be concealed under a bandeau of lace, or
of the hair. They should be removed as soon as
may be.  In this dress we can receive only intimate friends, or persons who call upon urgent or
61




DRESS.
indispensable business; even then we ought to
offer some apology for it. To neglect to take off
this morning dress as soon as possible, is to expose
one's self to embarrassments often very painful,
and to the appearance of a want of education.
Moreover, it is well to impose upon yourself a
rule to be dressed at some particular hour, (the
earliest possible,) since occupations will often
present themselves to hinder your getting ready
for the day. Disorder of the toilet can only be
excused when it occurs rarely, or for a short
time,-as in such cases it seems evidently owing
to a temporary embarrassment; but if it occur
daily, or constantly-if it seems the result of
negligence and slovenliness-it is unpardonable,
particularly in ladies, whose dress seems less designed for clothing than ornament.
To suppose that great heat of weather will
authorize disorder of the toilet, and will permit
you to go in slippers, or with your legs and arms
Dare, or to take nonchalant or improper attitudes,
62




DR7ESS.
i an error of persons of a iow class, or destitute
of education.  Even the weather of dog-days
would not excuse this; and it you would remain
thus dressed, you must give directions that' you
are not at home."  On the other hand, to tniln
that cold or rainy weather will excuse like olDer
ties, is equally an error. You ought not to be ir
the habit of wearing noisy shoes: this custom is
in the worst taste.
However pressed she may be, a lady of good
ton should not go out in a morning dress, neithex
with an apron nor cap, even if it is made of fine
cloth and trimmed with ribands. We said before,
that dress should be adapted to the different hours
of the day. Ladies should make morning calls
in an elegant and simple nglige, all the details
of which we cannot give, on account of their
multiplicity, and the numerous modifications of
fashion. It is necessary for them when visiting
at this time, to arrange their toilet with great
care.  Still, ceremonious visits, evening visits,
63




DRESS.
and especially halls, require more attention to the
dress of the head, and a more brilliant costume.
There are head-dresses particularly designed for
such occasions, and for no other, suth as rich
blonde caps, ornamented with flowers, brilliant
barrettes and toques, appropriate to the drawingroom.
Situation in the world determines among ladies
those differences which, though otherwise well
marked, are becoming less so every day. Every
one knows, whatever be the fortune of an unmarried lady, her dress ought always, in formn as well
as ornaments, to exhibit less of a recherche appearance, and should be less showy than that of
married ladies.
Costly cashmeres, very rich furs and diamonds,
as well as many other brilliant ornaments, are to
be forbidden a young lady; and those who act in
defiance of these rational marks of propriety,
make us believe that they are possessed of an
unrestrained love of luxury, and deprive them
64




DRESS.
selves of the pleasure of receiving these ornaments from the hand of the man of their choice.
All ladies cannot use indiscriminately the privilege which marriage confers upon them  in this
respect, and the toilet of those whose fortune is
moderate should not pass the bounds of an elegant
simplicity.
We must beware of a shoal in this case, frequently a young lady of small fortune, desiring
to appear decently in any splendid assembly,
makes sacrifices in order to embellish her modest
attire. But these sacrifices are necessarily inadequate; a new and brilliant article of dress is
placed by the side of a mean or old one.  The
toilet then wants harmony, which is the soul of
elegance as well as of beauty.  Moreover, whatever be the opulence which you enjoy, luxury
encroaches so much upon it, that no riches are
ble to satisfy its demands; but fortunately, prooriety, always in accordance with reason, encouw.ages by this maxim social and sensible wo,
I              65i




DRESS.
men to appreciate the situation in which they may
be placed, and to appear neither too high nor too
low. It is alike ridiculous either to pretend to be
the most showy, or to display the meanest attire
in an assembly.
The rules suitable to age resemble those which
mediocrity of fortune imposes;-for instance, old
ladies ought to abstain from gaudy colours, recherche designs, too late fashions, and gracelh
ornaments, as feathers, flowers, and jewels. A
lady in her decline wearing her hair elaborately
dressed, and having short sleeves, and adorned
with necklaces, bracelets, &c. offends against
propriety as much as against her interest and
dignity.
If ladies would wish to appear clothed in good
taste and harmony, they ought to adopt in summer
light garments and delicate colours, and in win
ter, furs, thick and warm fabrics, and full col
ours.
It is superlatively ridiculous for a lady to go
66




DR
on foot, witn her head dressed or attired for the
drawing-room or a ball. If one dwells in a pro.
vincial town. where it is not customary to use carriages, they should go in such conveyances as the
place affords. Who does not perceive how laughable it is to see a lady, who is clothed in satin, lace,
or velvet, laboriously walking in the dust or mud?
Vary your toilet as much as possible, for fear
that idlers and malignant wits, who are always a
majority in the world, should amuse themselves
by making your dress the description of your person.
Certain fashionables seek to gain a kind of
reputation by the odd choice of their attire, and
by their eagerness to seize upon the first caprices
of the fashions.  Propriety with difficulty toler.
ates these fancies of a spoiled child; but it applauds a woman of sense and taste, who is not in
a hurry to follow the fashions, and asks how long
they will last, before adopting them; finally, who
selects and modifies them with success according
to her size and figure.
67




HALLS, CONCERTS, AND  EVENINGO
PARTIES.
THESE amusements presuppose a fortune and
good ton; the practice of society, therefore, and
consequently a forgetfulness of the precepts of
politeness in respect to them, would be truly
preposterous.
When you wish to give a dance, you send
out invitations a week beforehand, that the ladies
may have time to prepare articles for their toilet
If it is to be a simple evening party, in which
we may wear a summer walking-dress, the mis,
tress of the house gives verbal invitations, and
does not omit to apprise her friends of this circumstance, or they might appear in unsuitable
dresses, If1 on the contrary the soiree is to be
68




EVENING PARTIES.
in reality a ball, the invitations are written, ol
what is better, printed, and expressed in the third
person.
A room appropriated for the purpose, and firnished with cloak-pins to hang up the shawls and
other dresses of the ladies, is almost indispensable.
Domestics should be there also, to aid them in
taking off and putting on their outside garments,
We are not obliged to go exactly at the appointed hour; it is even fashionable to go an
hour later. Married ladies are accompanied by
their husbands; unmarried ones, by their motherW or by a chaperon.  These last ladies place
themselves behind the dancers; the master of
the house then goes before one and another, procures seats for them; and mingles again among
the gentlemen who are standing, and who form
groups or walk about the room.
A lady cannot refuse the invitation of a gen.
tieman to dance, unless she has already accepted
that of another, for she would be guilty of an in69




BALLS, CONCERTS, AND
civility which might occasion trouble; she wouldc
moreover, seem to show contempt for him whom
she refused, and would expose herself to receive
in secret an ill compliment from the mistress of
the house.
Married or young ladies, cannot leave a ballroom, or any other party, alone. The former
should be accompanied by one or two other married ladies, and the latter by their mother, or by
a lady to represent her.
Ladies should avoid talking too much; it will
occasion remarks. It has also a bad appearance
to whisper continually in the ear of your partner.
The master of the house should see that all the
ladies dance; he should take notice particularly
of those who seem to serve as drapery to the
walls of the ball-room, (or wall-flowers, as the
Familiar expression is,) and should see that they
are invited to dance, But he must do this wholly
70




EVENING PARTIES.,nperceived, in order not to wound the self-esteem
l, the unfortunate ladies.
Gentlemen whom the master of the house re.
quests to dance with these ladies, should be ready
to accede to his wish, and even appear pleased at
dancing with a person thus recommended to their
notice.
Ladies who dance much, should be very careful
not to boast before those who dance but little or
not at all, of the great number of dances for which
they are engaged in advance. They should also,
without being perceived, recommend to these less
fortunate ladies, gentlemen of their acquaintance.
In giving the hand for ladies' chain or any other
figures, those dancing should wear a smile, and
accompany it with a polite inclination of the head,
in the manner of a salutation. At the end of the
dance, the gentleman reconducts the lady to her
place, bows and thanks her for the honour which
she has conferred. She also bows in silence
smiling with a gracious air.
71




BALLS, CONCERTS, AND
In these assemblies, we should conduct our*
selves with reserve and politeness towards all
present, although they may be unknown to us.
Persons who have no ear for music, that is to
y, a false one, ought to refrain from dancing,
Never hazard taking part in a quadrille, unless
you know how to dance tolerably; for if ycu are
a novice, or but little skilled, you would bring
disorder into the midst of pleasure. Being once
engaged to take part in a dance, if the figures
are not familiar, be careful not to advance first.
You can in this way govern your steps by those
who go before you. Beware, also, of taking your
place in a set of dancers more skilful than yourself.  When an unpractised dancer makes a mis
take, we may apprize him of his error; but it
would be very impolite to have the air of giving
him a lesson.
Dance with grace and modesty, neither affect
to nnke a parade of your knowledge; refrain
72




EVENING PARTIE.
from great leaps and ridiculous jumps, whleh
woull attract the attention of all towards you.
In a private ball or party, it is proper to show
still more reserve, and not manifest more pre.
ference for one gentleman than another; you
should dance with all who ask properly.
In public balls, a gentleman offers his partner
refreshments, but which she very seldom accepts,
unless she is well acquainted with him. But in
private parties, the persons who receive the comr
pany, send round cake and other refreshments,
of which every one helps themselves. Near the
end of the evening, in a well regulated ball, it
is customary to have a supper; but in a soirees
without great preparation, we may dispense with
a supper; refreshments are, however, necessary
and not to have them would be the greatest im
politeness.
We should retire incognito, in order not to
disturb the master and mistress of the house;
and we should make them, during the week, a
UR   ~     73




BALLS, CONCERTS, ETC.
visit of thanks, at which we may converse of the
pleasure of the ball, and the good selection of the
company.
The proprieties in deportment, which concerts
require, are little different from those which are
recognised in every other assembly, or in public
exhibitions, for concerts partake of the one and
the other, according as they are public or private.
In private concerts, the ladies occupy the front
seats, and the gentlemen are generally in groups
behind, or at the side of them. We should observe the most profound silence, and refrain from
beating time, humming the airs, applauding, or
making ridiculous gestures of admiration.  It
often happens that a dancing soiree succeeds a
concert, and billets of invitation, distributed two
or three days beforehand, should give notice of
it to the persons invited.
Be rarely seen at public places.
Never appear at balls whilst in mourning.
If you give a ball, dance in it rarely.
74




LETTERS AND PRESENTIS,
IN writing it is necessary to endeavour to make
our style clear, precise, elegant, and appropriate
for all subjects.  Vivacity of discourse forces us
frequently to sacrifice happy though tardy expressions, to the necessity of avoiding hesitation;
but what is thus an obstacle in speaking, does
not interfere with the use of the pen. We ought
therefore, to avoid repetitions, erasures, insertions,
omissions, and confusion of ideas, or laboured
construction. If we-write a familiar letter to an
equal or a friend, these blemishes may remain;
if otherwise, we must commence our letter again.
The most exact observance of the rules of
language is strictly necessary; a fault of or.
thography  or an incorrect expression, is not
75




LETTERS AND PRESENTS.
allowable, even in the least careful letter, or the
most unimportant billet. Even correction is not
admissible; for, besides being a blemish to the
letter, it betrays the ignorance or inattention of
the one who writes it.
The choice of materials for writing, without
being very essential, is yet necessary; to write
on very coarse paper, is allowable only for the
most indigent; to use gilt-edged and perfumed
piI.t for letters of business, would be ridiculous.
Many distinguished people, however, reasonably prefer simplicity in this thing, and make use
of very beautiful paper, but yet without orna.
ment.
It is extremely impolite to write upon a single
leaf of paper, even if it is a billet; it should be
always double, although we write only two or
three lines. It is still more vulgar to use for an
envelope, paper on which there are one or two
words foreign to the letter itself; whether they
be wfitten or printed.
76




LETTERS AND PRESENTS,
The rules of politeness ought tc decide as to
the expense of postage. They require us to de.
fray the expense of the letter, if it is written to
distinguished persons, or to those of whom  we
ask any favour; but it would be an incivility, and
sometimes a want of delicacy, to do it when we
write to a friend, an acquaintance, or to persons
of little fortune, whose feelings we should fear
to wound.
It is as indispensable to answer when you are
written to, as when you are spoken to, and the
indolence which so many correspondents allow
in themselves, in this respect, is an incivility.
And if; after all, they decide to answer, they
begin by apologies so often renewed, that they
become commonplace.  We must use much care
that these excuses may not appear ridiculous.
Conciseness and some new terms of expression,
are, in this case, indispensable. The same observation is applical} e in mahting use of reproving
terms.
77




LETTERS AND PFIREENT'.
Letters supply the place of visits, in bestowing
presents, or on occasions of marriages, funerals,
etc.; and to neglect to write in such cases, is
gross impoliteness.
Two persons shoild not write in the same
letter, by one writing upon the first, and another
upon the second leaf, except we are very intimate
with the correspondent. The same is applicable
to postscripts. The language of men who write
to ladies ought always to have a polish of respect,
with which the latter ought not to dispense in
answering; but on occasions of great ceremony
a lady may address to a man such phrases as " 
have the honour to be," &c. while he should use
the most respectful terms, as " Deign, Madaim
to allow me;" "Allow me the honour of presenting you my respects," &c.
You may use a lofty style towards persons to
whom you owe respect; an easy, trifling, or even
jesting style towards a friend; and a courteous
style towards one another generally
78




LETTERS AND PRESENTS.
If you have many subjects to treat of in the
same letter, commence with the most important.
for if the person to whom you write is interrupt*
ed while reading it, he will be the more im.
patient to resume its perusal, however little in.
teresting he may find it.
It is useful and convenient to begin a new par
agraph at every change of the subject.  After
having written Sir or Madam at the top of the
letter, we should not commence with one of these
phrases,-  "Sir," " Madam,"-" Your sister has
written me that."   We should say, "I under~
stand by a letter which Mrs. -, your sister,
has written me."
Take care, also, when writing to a person of
great consideration, not to make compliments to
any one, but write to,this third person whatever
you wish him to know.
Titles of respect, as Lordship, 3ajesty, Highness, Excellency, Honour, Madam, &c. ought
never to be abbreviated, either in writing to th1
7U




L.EWTERS AND PRESENTS.
persons themselves, or to any one who has ace
quaintance with them.
Figures are used only for sums and dates,
numbers of men, days, weeks &Se. are to be
written at length.
The interior form of a letter has reference to
dhe titles and qualities of persons to whom it is
oroper to give them; the more or less courteous
phrases which we should use; the more or less
respectful manner with which the commencement
and body of the letter are to be arranged; and
the more or less humble terms which we are to
ase for the signature, the address, or the superscription.
The words esteem and affection are used only
in letters to friends or acquaintance, because
tney are too familiar; but when accompanied by
words which relieve them, they do not offend
one. As for example, we can say, "I am, with
prQfound respect, and the highest esteem," &c.
The following forms may be used with elegance 
SQ




LETERS AND PRESKNTS.'Accept, Sir, the assurances of high considemr
tion;" "Be pleased to accept the assurances,"
&c.
The date of a letter may be put at the beginning when we write to an equal; but in writing to a superior, it should be at the end, in
order that the title at the head of the letter may
be entirely alone. In letters of business, on the
contrary, it is necessary to date at the top, and
on the first line, that persons may lmow conveniently the chronological order of their comn
munications.
The date is often necessary to the understand
ing of many passages of your letter, to explain
the sense of one which your correspondent may
have received at the same time from another person: therefore never omit it.
In a simple billet, we put the date of the day,
Monday, &c.  It is well sometimes to add the
hour.  Every letter to a superior ought to be
folded in an envelope.  It slh Ws a want of re,
L             81




LETTERS AND PRESENTS.
spect to seal with a wafer,-we must use sealings
wax, Men usually select red; but young ladies
ese bronze, green, and other colours. Both use
olack wax when they are in mourning. Except
in this last case, the colour of the seal is imma.
terial, but not the size; for very large ones are
in bad taste. The smaller and more recherche
the better ton they are.
When the letter is closed with or without an
envelope, we put only a single seal upon it; but
if the letter is large, we use two.  Moreover,
if it contains important papers, it should have
three seals, or more, according to the size of the
envelope. If a person takes charge of a letter
as a favour, it would be very impolite to put more
than one seal upon it.  If the letter should be
folded in such a manner, that, by partly opening
At at the end, its contents may be read, it would
be equally impolite to put a little wax upon the
edges. We can use this precaution only wher,;he letter is sent by the post or by a domestic.
82




LETTERS ANI PRESENTN.
When we use no envelope, and the third page
of the letter is all written upon, we should leave
a small blank space on each side, where the seal
is to be put; as without this precaution, an important word might be covered.
Persons of taste, who have no coat of arms,
adopt a seal bearing some ingenious device.
A letter which is to be shown as a letter of
introduction, or recommendation, should never
be sealed, when given or sent to the one who is
to be the bearer, as he ought necessarily to know
the contents. And to seal it without having first
allowed the bearer to read it, would be extremely
ilnpolite. You should prove to the person recommended, that you have spared no pains to render
im a service.
Some distinguished persons are flattered by our
omitting, in writing to them, to desigiate pre.
cisely their address. This is an error; we should
indicate with exactness, the town, &c., if there
is more than one town of the same name. In a
83




LETTERS AND PRESENTS..arge city, it is well to write the name of,he
street and number, as well as the quarter of the
city where the street is. People of business abbreviate this, by putting No, and the number, or
the number alone, and this practice is now very
general.
It is well to add to the name, the title, or profession, in order to prevent mistake. However,
if circumstances have obliged any one of your
acquaintance to act in an inferior situation, it
would be a want of delicacy, to join his name
to that of his business.
In billets, we put the date at the top of the
paper, and begin the letter about two inches below,  The word Sir is put in the first line.
We conclude with one of these phrases, I am,
Sir, yours,-I am truly yours, fcc. A billet is
not written to ladies, or to superiors, as this was
Introduced only to avoid ceremony.
The most unceremonious billets, contrary to
the common acceptation, are written in the third. v




LETTERS AND PRESENTS.
person. They contain very little, and begin thus)
AIr. or Madam, N. present (his or her) respe ts,
or compliments, to Mr. Such-a-one, and requests,
&c.  After having made the request, we end
with, "and will feel obliged."
In this kind of billets, it is best not to use the
pronoun he or she; for, independently of the mcivility, it might result in confusion.  Sometimes it would be difficult to know, whether the
pronoun referred to the person who received the
letter, or to the one who wrote it.
In the eyes of persons of delicacy, presents
are of no worth, except from the manner in which
they are bestowed; strive then lo gain them this
value.
Presents are offered, first tc relations, and to
friends, and they occur under different ~crcumstances; on our arrival at a place from whilh we
have been absent for a long time; when outt intimate friends leave the town in which we r aide,
n1 our return from a journey, particularly W ~;e
85




LETTERS AND PRESENTS.
capital, on marriage days, birth days, days of
baptism, or new year's day.
The most delicate presents are the productions
of our own industry; a drawing, a piece of needle
work, ornamental hair work, &c. But such offer.
mgs, although invaluable among friends, are not
used on occasions of ceremony.
Presents should excite surprise and pleasure,
therefore, you ought to involve them in a little
mystery, and present them with an air of joyful
kindness.
When you have made your offerings, and
thanks have been elicited, do not bring back the
conversation to the subject; avoid, particularly,
making your gift of consequence.  On the contrary, when its merit has been extolled, and the
persons who have received the present have
evinced a lively satisfaction, say that the gift receives all its value from their opinion of it.
However slight the charm a present may have,
or if even insignificant, we should be ill-bred n3
86




LETTERS AND PRESENTS.
to manifest much pleasure in receiving it. It is,
moreover, necessary, when an opportunity offers,
to speak of it, and do not fail of saying to the
donor, how useful or agreeable his present is to
you.  In proportion as a long time has elapsed,
this attention is the more amiable, as it proves
that you have preserved the object with care.
Never give away a present which you have received from  another person; or at least so arrange it, that It may never be known.
e  -




MAktRI AGF.
LmE it be impressed upon your mind, that a
ittle more ceremony should be used toward your
husband's relations, than towards your own, -
with your own relations, you are likely to have
been long acquainted, and they are therefore supposed to know all your little peculiarities of character-but in many cases, ladies are suddenly
placed by marriage in a new circle, and the utmost respect and caution are necessary, not to
offend those who can be made friends or enemies,
often by a smile or a frown.
If anything can render politeness ridiculous,
and even odious, it is the disposition of certain
persons, who in society are moderate, amiable,
and gracious; but in private show themselves
88




MARRIAGE.
mo:ose, rough, and ill-natured.  This fault, much
too common is one of the greatest inconsistencies
of the human mind. $ome use all their exertions
to please the world, which they only see cursorily, and in which they have only power to procure
a few moments of pleasure, and they neglect to
be agreeable to their husband, from whom is expected the happiness of a whole life. Perhaps
it would be better to be continually capricious,
or harsh; for the contrast of politeness in the
drawing-room, with the impoliteness at home;
makes it appear still more odious. Conjugal intimacy, it is true, dispenses with the etiquette
established by politeness, but it does not dispense
with attentions.
In the presence of your husband, you ought
never to do those things which carry with them
a disagreeable idea, nor perform those duties of
the toilet, which, before any one but yourself,
offend decency and cleanliness.
One ought never to permit disorder in her
M              89




MARRIAGE
tusband's wardrobe under the excuse that he is
just up, or at his own house.
To dress with neatness and elegant simplicity,
is important, even at nome.
The conversation at home cannot always be elegant, and sustained in the same manner that it
is in society; it would indeed be superlatively
ridiculous, that it should not have interruption,
or relaxation; but it should be free from all impoliteness and indelicacy.
If at any time the society of your husband
causes you ennui, you ought neither to say so,
nor give any suspicion of the cause, by abruptly
changing the conversation.
In all discussions you should watch yourself
attentively, lest domestic familiarity raise itself
by degrees to the pitch of a quarrel.
To entertain with a politeness particularly
affectionate, the friends of the person with whom
you are connected by marriage; to respect in.
violably the letters which he writes or receives"
90




MARRIAGE.
to avoid prying into the secrets which he con
ceals from you; never to act contrary to his inclinations, unless they are injurious to himself,
and even in this case not to oppose him, but to
endeavour to check them with address and kindness; to beware of confiding to strangers, or to
domestics, the little vexations which he causes
you; to dread like poison marks of contempt
coldness, suspicion, or reproaches; to apologize
promptly, and in an affectionate manner, if you
have allowed yourself to run into any ill-humour;
to receive his counsels with attention, and to
execute them as quickly as possible;-these are
the obligations of propriety and love, by which
married persons of gentleness bind themselves.
There is a still more rigorous duty for new.
married persons; they must abstain in public
from every mark of affection too conspicuous,
and every exclusive attention,
Married persons who, in society, place themselves continually near each other, and who con91




MARRIAG]E.
verse and dance together, do not escape the ridi
cule to which their feelings blind them.
In society we ought, above every thing, tG
avoid being personal; tbr a husband or a wife is
another self; and we must Icrget that selI
91




ERVAN rt.
MUCH has been said respecting bad servants,
and there are a great many bad ones anlongs
the numerous class; but it is more their misfor.
tune than their fault: they are for the most part
taken from a class of society who do not attend
properly to the training of their children, and are
placed too frequently with those who pay no attention to their comfort.
Treat your servants always with kindness,but at the same time with firm respect for yourself; on no account be familiar with them, neither
hear their tattle, nor tattle with them, and you
will lave at least a chance of sometimes making
them attentive, zealous, and grateful, and of havy
93




SERVANTS.
ing your services performed with order and alarity.
Do not scold your servants; you had bettel
turn them away at once. When they need re,
proof, give them it in a calm, dignified, and firi
manner; but on no account, if you can possible
avoid it, find fault with them in the presence of
strangers, even though they should let fall the
zray with your best set of china upon it.
The ton of the mistress of a house is often
affected if not measured, by that of her servants;
take care, therefore, to make them  civil and
polite,-teach them  to assist your visitors in
putting off and on their greatcoats, cloaks, &c —
and let them always be ready to open the door
when your guests arrive or depart.
Accustom your servants never to appear before
you too slatternly or too finely dressed; never
allow them to enter into conversation with each
other in your presence, nor to answer you by
igns or coarse terms.
94




SEfRVARS.
If you have only one servant, talk of her by
ner Christian name; if you have more, talk of
them by the names of their offices, such as nurse,
cook, housemaid, butler, footman, but always
address them  by their Christian names.
Although you must avoid all familiar confidential conversation, never speak to your servants
with hauteur nor harshness.
Never entertain your visitors with any narm
tive of your servants' improprietie.
95








ON THE PIESERVATIOI,
NIPROVEMENT, AND DISPLAI
I~E~         MWW








THE IMlPORTANCE AND UTILITY OF
EXERCISE.
THE effbct of exercise is, by frequent contraction of the fibies, to brace the muscles and ren.
der them stronger, and generally to give more
strength to the organs.
Nothing evidently can be more suitable to tne
organization of woman.  Her tissues are soft
and flexible; exercise renders them more firm
and resisting: her fibres are thin ard weak'
exercise increases their size and strength: they
are moistened with oils and juices; exercise
diminishes the superabundant humidity.
In regard to strength in general, it may be
observed that, in the present state of society, w.
99




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
have less need of it than the people of ancien:
times.  Muscular strength is a kind of superi.
ority no longer in such favour, and the aim of
gymnastics is consequently nothing more than
to endow the body with all the strength, vigour
and activity, compatible with health, without
injury to the development of the intellectual
faculties.
Moreover, the education which is suited to
the male, is not calculated to render the female
amiable and useful in society.
This is an observation of all times. The ancients were too good observers not to know
that women, by her less stature, her weaker
organization, her predominant sensibility, and
her peculiar function of multiplying the species,
was not destined by nature to such toilsome
labours as men.
We seek, accordingly, to develop in woman
that modesty and gentleness which are proper
to her. that soft and attractive air which char100




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
acterizes her, and those pleasing graces which
distinguish her.
The constitution of women, indeed, bears only
moderate exercise.  Their feeble arms cannot
support severe and long-continued labour.  It
renders them  meagre, and deforms the organs,
by compressing and destroying that cellular substance which contributes to the beauty of their
outlines and of their complexion.  The graces
accommodate themselves little to labour, perspiration and sun-burning.
We must not, however, conclude from this,
that females should be kept in a state of continual repose, or that the delicacy of their organization prevents their taking exercise.
It is a fact that labour, even the most excessive, is not so much to be feared as absolute idleness.  The state of want which forces some women of the lowest clays to perform labours that
seem reserved for men, deprives them  only of
some attractions.  Excessive indolence, on the
I01




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
contrary, destroys at once health and that which
women value more than health, though it never
can subsist without it, namely, beauty.
The more robust state of health in females
brought up in the country, is attributable to the
exercise they enjoy. Their movements are ac.
tive and firm; their appetite is good, and theit
complexion florid; they are alert and gay; they
know neither pain nor lassitude, although they
are in action without cessation under all kinds of
weather. It is exercise which gives them vigour,
health and happiness-exercise to which they are
so frequently subjected, even in infancy and
youth.
We observe also, that in a family where there
are several sisters of similar constitution, the one
who from circumstances has been accustomed to
regular and daily exercise, almost always pos
sesses most strength and vigour.
Mothers and teachers, therefore, instead of
fearing that their children should fatigue them102




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
selves by exertion in active sports, should subject
them early to it. They will thus give them more
than merely life and instruction; they will con
rer on them health and strength.
But some mothers are afraid to see their daughhers entering with spirit into exercises, and are
of opinion that health cannot be obtained without
sacrificing the graces which a female who is intended for society should possess.
They may rest assured that no recommender
of exercise would endeavour to make a stout robust woman of a little, delicate and nervous girl,
or would prescribe for her the female gymnastics
of the half-naked women of Lacedemon, as ir.stituted by Lycurgus.
What we can, and what we should endeavour
to do, is to obtain a good constitution, absence
from all deformity, and sufficient strength to pre.
vent the display of vicious sensibility, but not to
destroy that delicacy and those attractions which
constitute beauty and grace.
103




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
Bat it may be feared that the peculiar struc.
ture and the natural weakness of woman, may
render dangerous the exercises intended to coin
bat it.
Those who make such objections should recol.
lect that the circumstances which distinguish the
sexes, and which modify them, remain imperfect
and without action, until the age of puberty, and
that children of both sexes have nearly the same
appetites, the same wants, and the same inclinations. It is hence we recognise in them nearly
the same physiognomy, a similar tone of voice,
and similar manners.
This will be the less surprising when it is
known that the internal organization, even the
structure of the bones, has a greater resemblance
in early life than at a subsequent period. Thus
until they arrive at maturity, the pelvis or basm
is rarely larger than in youths.  Hence all the
exercises which depend upon position and walking will not be more difficult for them than for
104




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
oys; while, for full-grown women, these exe~
cises are more difficult and embarrassing.
This community of structure, as well as the
fact that, at this early age, activity, restlessness
and the desire of motion are remarkable in girls,
all point out the danger of repose.
Instead, therefore, of being afraid of exercise
for young girls, they should be subjected to it as
soon as possible: and, when this is the case, they
uniformly prove the truth of the observation,
made by teachers of exercises, that females, in
agility, precision and address, surpass boys of the
same age.
So much for the effects of exercise upon the
locomotive system.
With regard to the vital or nutritive system,
it is not less certain that exercise augments the
circulation and respiration, and perfects the formation of the blood and the nourishment of the
body, in the same proportion in which the power
af the lungs is developed.
0             105




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
By carrying toward the exterior the forces
which, during a state of repose, tend almost always to concentrate themselves either in the
brain or in the abdominal organs, exercise makes
of these forces a more exact distribution, re-esta
blishes or maintains their equilibrium, and, by
exciting the circulation, provokes the insensible
perspiration, without which health and beauty are
impossible.
In regard to the mental system, exercise, while
it increases the activity of the muscles, prevents,
as we have seen, the vicious predominance of
the sensitive system.  Diseased sensibility can
never exist where the constitution has not been
suffered to become enervated by indolence. When
external agitation employs our faculties, the interior reposes.
If already the defective power of the mental
functions tends to too vivid mobility, exercise
gives them more of the stability of energy. The
aervous sisceptibility, which is increased bi
106




UTILITY OF EXERCISE.
weakness, is reduced to its proper degree, as soon
as exercise has strengthened the organs. By this
useful diversion, the affections of the heart are
calmed.   "Otia si tollas, periere Cupidinls
arcus."
But this is not all: by diminishing the causes
of exaggeration in the affections and passions,
mildness and goodness, the most certain sources
of happiness, remain in conjunction with health.
There can, therefore, be no doubt of the utility
of exercise in remedying whatever may be defective in the female organization, and laying the
foundation of a constitution exempt from infirm,
itics and disease.
iVY




APPROPRIATION OF EXERCISE.
EXERCISE is not equally useful in all climates.
In warm  climates, heat, by calling the vital
forces towards the circumference, supplies the
place of exercise in many respects; and the debilitating perspirations which excite too greatly
even without exercise, may render that often
pernicious.
Exercise should, doubtless, be varied according
to the sex of the individual.
It would, however, be a prejudicial error to
suppose that females should be subjected only to
passive exercise. On the contrary, the sedentary
occupations of women impose upon them, more
than on men, the necessity of engaging in active
exercises.
1.08




APPROPRIATION OF EXERCISE.
Exercises should only be more moderate ir
woman than in man. A female, moreover, will
with advantage, use those-that act upon the mus,
cles of the chest, which her mode of life affords
but few opportunities of exercising.
Exercise should vary according to age.
Temperament requires to be studied in the se-.ection of exercises.
An individual possessed of a sanguine temperament should constantly use active exercises.
If sanguification or the formation of blood be very
active, they may be carried so far as to produce
perspiration. It is the best means of dissipating,
to the advantage of the nutrition of the muscles,
the excess of plethora, and superabundance of
juices, which torment persons of this tempera
ment.
Such persons ought, however, to abstain from
exercises that require great efforts, on account
of their predisposition to aneurisms, hemorrhages,
and cerebral cfiusions and compressions.
109




APPROPRIATION OF EXERCISE.
Passive exercises, or those methods that gently
strengthen the fibres without causing any corres.
ponding loss, and thus induce plethora, would be
unsuitable to sanguine persons disposed to he.
morrhage.
Active exercises suit individuals of a lymphatic
temperament, naturally dull, slow and indolent.
The ancients remarked the good effects of
exercise upon girls of weak constitutions, of soft
and lax texture, subject to languid maladies;
and they accordingly applied exercise in the cure
of many diseases that baffled the skill of the
physician. The moderns have profited by their
observations, and made new ones of similar tendency.
It would, however, be imprudent to subject
suddenly to violent exercise young girls of feeble
constitution, with soft skin, pale complexion, and
light hair, which are proofs of wealness.
In persons also with soft fibres, whose narrow
and feeble vessels are plunged in fat, exercise
110




APPROPRIATION OF EXERCISE.
must be very moderate, in order not radically to
wear out muscular forces deprived of primitive
energy.  If it is very violent, or is continued toe
iong, it may then sometimes occasion adipose
inflammations of the viscera.
To remedy this languishing state, their fibres
should first be braced by passive exercises fre.
quently repeated, commencing by those which
are extremely gentle. Exercise in the open air.
such as carriage-riding, is particularly useful to
girls of this constitution. The force and resistance of the fibres will augment in proportion as
the fatty and serous plethora dissipates itself.
A nervous temperament promises superiority
of the mental faculties; but it may become the
source of great evils, if we do not diminish that
exquisite susceptibility which sooner or later
would produce them.
The general effect of exercise is to strengthen
the body and counteract the early predisposition
to a nervous temperament.  This temperament
111




APPROPRIATION OF EXERCISE.
iadeed requires continual exercise. In it, there
is no danger that, in strengthening the body) we
may injure those faculties that seem to arise from
a nervous temperament. With such constitution,
no one can ever become an athlete, which as we
know, is converting mind into brute force. Ner.
vous girls, then, should be strengthened; it will
prevent them  becoming invalids: it is certain
they will remain clever.
A  physician  accordingly  observes that, in
strengthening the animal economy by exercise,
we get rid of the nervous irritability, the sickly
sensibility, which is the offspring of luxury, and
parent of vapours, hysterics and hypochondria, as
well as of the fatal practices which attack the
sources of life, and which commence at the age
of puberty and often sooner. By strengthening
the muscles, exercise moderates this vicious sen.
sibility. Exercise produces lassitude, and lassi.
tude sleep; and when a person sleeps soundly,
112




APPROPRIATION OF EXIERCiS,
ste will not be awakened by the fancies of a
disordered imagination.
Passive, mixed, and moderately active exer.
cises suit a bilious temperament, characterized
by dryness and extreme rigidity of fibre.  The
individual should use moderate and sustained
exercise, fit rather to regulate than accelerate
the march of functions already too rapid.
Particular dispositions also require particular
exercises.  One cannot endure the motion of the
most easy carriage; another suffers from that of
a boat; a third finds it Impossible to ride on norse.
back, &c. It is sometimes desirable to combat
these dislikes, but we must not obstinately endeavour to surmount them, when they appeal
determined: it is better, in such a case, to discontinue the exercise disliked: and frequently
another, even more active, will not produce the
same inconvenience.
The habits previously contacted should not be
overlooked in advising as to exercise.  A young
f             a311




fatFROPRIATION OF EXEURCIE
girl whose condition is sedentary. should not be
subjected to such exercise as a young man who
s generally actively employed.  The best appli.
cation of gymnastics, is that which conducts the
pupil gradually from the most gentle exercise t.
the most active.
Without speaking of acute maladies, in which
muscular action is always hurtful, there are different states of the body in which the utility of
exercise is very doubtful: there are even some in
which, by the nature of its direct effects, it can
do only ill.  Such is the case with young girls
who may be affected with predisposition to apoplexy, asthmatical diseases, &c.
It is evident that in general passive exercises
only should be had recourse to in case of sicimess
and indispositions, because spontaneous move
ment might then be more or less injurious.
Exercise, however, if properly directed, is ex
tremely beneficial in convalescence.  The recovYring patient who cannot yet walk across her
114




APPROPRIATION OF EXERCISE.
chamber, should be carried or wheeled in an easy
chair, until she can support the motion cf a carriage.
Many chronic affections are favourably influenced by exercise; but of course it must be taken
under the precautions we have mentioned for
convalescents. In these cases and others analagous, where passive exercises are useful, it
rarely happens that the use of active exercises
is successful.
The same does not hold in scrofulous cases,
where debility, paleness, and want of elasticity
indicate the necessity of motions as active as the
strength will admit.  It is probable that these
diseases, so common in infancy and youth, will
be very rare m children who are regularly trained
to exercise
135




PARTICULAR DIRECTIONS
FOl TIHE
PRESERV'ATION AND IMPROVES
MENT OF BEAUTY.
TrHE preservation of an agreeable complexion
(which always presupposes health) is not the
most insignificant of exterior charms.  Though
we yield due admiration to regularity of features
(the Grecian contour being usually so called,)
yet when we consider them merely in the outline, our pleasure can go no farther than that
of a cold critic, who regards the finely-proportioned lineaments of life as he would those of
a statue. It is complexion that lends animation
to a picture; it is complexion that gives spirit
to the human countenance.  Even the language
of the eyes loses half its eloquence, if they speak
116




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
from the obscurity of an inexpressive skin. Tih
life-blood in the mantling cheek; the ever-varying
hues of nature glowing in the face, "as if her
very body thought;" these are alike the ensigns
of beauty and the heralds of the mind; and the
effect is, an impression of loveliness, an attraction, which fills the beholder with answering
animation and the liveliest delight:
"'Tis not a lip or eye we beauty call,
But the joint force and full result of all."
As a Juno-featured maid with a dull skin, by
most people will only be coldly pronounced criti.
cally handsome; so a young woman with very
indifferent features, but a fine complexion, will
from ten persons out of twelve, receive spontaneous and warm admiration.
The experience (when once we admit the
proposition that it is right to keep the casket
bright which contains so precious a gem as the
soul) must induce us to take precautions against
the injuries continually threatening the tender
117




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
surface of the skin. It may be next to an irea
possibility, to change the colour of an eye, to
alter the form of the nose, or the turn of the
mouth; but though heaven has given us a conm
plexion which vies with the flowers of the field,
we yet have it in our power to render it dingy by
neglect, coarse through intemperance, and sallow
by dissipation.
Such excesses must tnerefore be avoided; for
though there may be a something in the pallid
cheek which excites interest, yet, without a certain appearance of health, there can never be
an impression of loveliness. A fine, clear skin,
gives an assurance of the inherent residence of
three admirable graces to beauty; Wholesomeness, Neatness, and Cheerfulness.  Every fair
means ought to be sought to maintain these
vouchers for not only health of body, but health
of mind.
I have already given some hints to this pur.
pose; at least as far as relates to the advantage
118




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY
resulting to young females from exercise. Thos
which affect the heart, and point through time
into eternity, must not be less observed; for
unless its thoughts are kept in corresponding
order and the passions held in peace, all prel
criptions will be vain to keep those boiling fluids
in check, which, in spite of Roman fard and
balm of Mecca, will spread themselves over the
skin, and there exhibit an outward and visible
sign of the malignant spirit within. But, independently of these mental causes of corporeal
defect, disorders of the skin, arising from acciL
dental circumstances, are very frequent in the
United States, owing to the extraordinary vicissitudes of our climate,-where a difference of
forty degrees in the range of the thermometer
within the space of twenty-four hours, is quite
a common occurrence.  The fashions of the day
are likewise in a very- high degree inimical to
rualth and beauty. The changes of the temperture, by abruptly exciting or repressing the
119




IMPROVEMENT CF BEAUTY,
regular secretions of the skin, roughen its tex
ture, injure its hue, and often deform  it with
unseemly, though transitory eruptions. All this
is increased by the habit ladies have of exposing
themselves unveiled, and frequently without bonnets, in the open air. The head and face have
then no defence against the attacks of the surrounding atmosphere, and the effects are obvious.
The barouche, for this reason, and the more
consequential one of subjecting its inmates to
dangerous chills, is a fatal addition to the variety
of our equipages.  Our autumnal evenings, witi
this carriage and our gossamer apparel, have
already sent many young females to untimely
graves.
To remedy these evils, I would strenuously
recommend, for health's sake, as well as for
beauty, that no lady should make one in any
riding, airing, or walking party, without putting
on her head something capable of affording both
lhelter and warmth.  Shakspearo, the poet of
120




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
the finest taste in female charms, makes Viola
regret having been obliged to "throw her sunexpelling mask away!"  Such a defence I de
not pretend to recommend; but I do consider a
veil a useful as well as elegant part of dress, it
can be worn to suit any situation; open or clos
just as the heat or cold may render it necessary.
The custom which some l?-lies have, when
warm, of powdering their faces, washing them
with cold water, or throwing off their bonnets,
that they may cool the faster, are all very inju
rious habits. Each of them is sufficient (whey
it meets with any predisposition in the blood) t.
spread an eruption over the skin, and make a once
beautiful face hideous for ever.
The person, when overheated, should always
be allowed to cool gradually, and of itself, without
any more violent assistant than, perhaps, the
gentle undulation of the neighbouring air by a
fan.  Streams of wind from opened doors and
windows, or what is called a thorough air, atm
q               121




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
Sil bad and highly dangerous applications. These
impatient remedies for heat are often resorted to
in balls and crowded assemblies; and as free
quently as they are used, we hear of sore throats
coughs, and fevers.  While it is the fashion to
fill a drawing-room like a theatre, similar means
ought to be adopted, to prevent the ill effects of
the consequent corrupted atmosphere, and the
temptation to seek relief by dangerous resources.
Instead of the open balcony and yawning door,
we should have ventilators in every window,and thus feel a constant succession of pure and
temperate air.
Excessive heat, as well as excessive cold, is
apt to cause distempers of the skin; and as the
fine lady, by her strange habits, is as prone to
such changes as the desert-wandering gipsy, it
is requisite that she should be particularly careful
to correct the deforming consequences of her
fashionable exposures. At her usual ablution,
ai.g t and mmrning, nothing is so fine an emollient
122




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
for any rigidity or disease of the face as a wash
oi French or white brandy, and rose-water, the
spirit making only one-third of the mixture. The
brandy keeps up that gentle action of the skin
which is necessary to the healthy appearance of
its parts. It also cleanses the surface. The rosewater corrects the drying property of the spirit,
leaving the skin in a natural, soft, and flexible
state. Where white or French brandy cannot be
obtained, half the quantity of spirits of wine will
tolerably supply its place.
The eloquent effect of complexion will, I hope.
my fair friends, obtain your pardon for my having
confined your attention so long to what is generally thought (though in contradiction to what
is felt) a trifling feature, if so I may be allowed
to name it..T m aware of your expectations, that I would
give the precedence, in this dissertation, to the
eye.  I subscribe to its super-eminent dignity,
for none can deny that it is regarded by ail na123




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
tlons as the faithful interpreter of the mind, as
the window of the soul, the index in which we
read each varied emotion of the heart; it is indeed
the " spirit's throne of light." But how increased
an expression does this intelligent feature convey,
when aided by the glowing tints of an eloquent
complexion!  Indeed, it is the happy coincidence of the eye and the complexion which forms
the strongest point of what the French call contenance.
The animated changes of sensibility are nowhere more apparent than in the transparent
surface of a clear skin.  Who has not perceived,
and admired, the rising blush of modesty enrich
the cheek of a lovely girl, and, in the sweet effiiu
sion, most gratefully discern the true witness Gf
the purity within    Who has not been sensible
to the sudden glow on the face, which announces,
ere the lips open, or the eye sparkles, the approach of some beloved object?  Nay, will no*
even the sound of his name paint the blooming
cheek with deeper roses?
124




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY
" Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smittenl frairn,
The pc wer of grace, the magic of a name?"
Shall we reverse the picture    It has been
seen how the soul proclaims her joy through its
wondrous medium:-shall she speak her sorrows
too   Then let us call to mind, who have beheld
the deadly paleness of her who learns the unexpected destruction of her dearest possessions!Perhaps a husband, a lover, or a brother, mingled
with the slain, or fallen, untimely, by some
dreadful accident.  Sudden partings like these
" Press the life from out young hearts."
We see the darkened, stagnant shade which
denotes the despair-stricken soul.  We behold
the livid hues of approaching frenzy, or the
blacker stain of settled melancholy! Heloisa's
face is paler than the marble she kneels upon
In all cases the mind shines through the body;
and according as the medium  is dense or trans.
parent, so the light within seems dull or clear.
125




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTYo
Advocate as I am for a fine complexion, you
must perceive, that it is for the real, and not the
spurious.  The foundation of my argument, the
skin's power of expression, would be entirely
lost, were I to tolerate that fictitious, that dead
beauty, which is composed of white paints and
enamelling.  In the first place, as all applica
tions of this kind are as a mask on the skin, they
can never, but at a distant glance, impose for a
moment on a discerning eye. But why should
I say a discerning eye? No eye that is of the
commonest'apprehension can look on a face bedaubed with white paint, pearl-powder, or enamel,
and be deceived for a minute into a belief that so
inanimate a "whited wall" is the human skin.
No flush of pleasure, no shudder of pain, no
thrilling of hope, can be descried beneath the
encrusted mould: all that passes within is consealed behind the mummy surface. Perhaps the
painted creature may be admired by an artist as
i'm




gIWPROVEMENTi OF EAUTT.
a wellEexecuted picture; but no man willi seriorN
ly consider her as a handsome woman.
White painting is, therefore, an ineflectual,
as well as dangerous practice.  The proposed
end is not obtained; and, as poison lurks undco
every layer, the constitution wanes in alarming
proportion as the supposed charms increase.
The use of red paint upon the cheek, although
not generally so deleterious as the white, is yet
to be avoided by every respectable lady.  The
practice is objectionable even when it goes no
further than a slight tinge of vegetable rouge
upon the cheek of pallid beauty.  But what language of censure can sufficiently express the
condemnation of its habitual and immoderate use X
A violently rouged woman is one of the most
disgusting objects to the eye. The excessive red
on the face gives a coarseness to every feature,
and a general fierceness to the countenances
which transforms the elegant lady of fashion iant
a vulgar harfidan.
27




EMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
The same censure is applicable t'o the practice
of pencilling and painting the eyebrows. Such
clumsy tricks of attempted deception can scarce
excite other emotion in the mind of the beholder,
than contempt for the bad taste and wilful blindness which could ever deem them passable for a
moment.  There is a lovely harmony in nature's
tints, which we seldom attain by our added chromatics.   The exquisitely fair complexion  is
generally accompanied with blue eyes, light hair
and light eye-brows and lashes.  So far all is
right. The delicacy of one feature is preserved
in effect and beauty by the corresponding softness
of the other.  A  young creature, so fbrmed,
appears to the eye of taste like the azure heaven
seen through the fleecy clouds on which the
brightness of day delights to dwell. But take
this fair image of the celestial regions, draw a
black line over her softly-tinctured eyes, stain
lheir beamy fringes with a sombre hue, and what
io you produce? Certainly a fair face with darnk
128




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
eye-brows! But that feature, which is an emDellishment to a brunette, when seen on the forehead
of the fair beauty, becomes, if not an absolute
deformity, so great a drawback from her perfections, that the harmony is gone; and, as a proof,
a painter would immediately turn from the change
with disgust.
Nature, in almost every case, is our best guide
Hence the native colour of our own hair is, in
general, better adapted to our own complexions
than a wig of a contrary hue. A thing may be
beautiful in itself, which, with certain combinations, may be rendered hideous. For instance, a,golden-tressed wig on the head of a brown wcman, makes both ridiculous. By the same rule,
all fantastic tricks played with the mouth or eyes,
or motions of the head, are absurd, and ruinous
to beauty. They are solecisms in the works of
nature.
In Turkey, it happened to be the taste of one
of its great monarchs, to esteem large arid darkB             129




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
lashed eyes as the most lovely. From that tinem,
all the fair slaves of that voluptuous region, when
nature has not bestowed " the wild-stag eye in
sable ringlets rolling," supply the deficiency with
circles of antimony; and so, instead of a real
charm, they impart a strange artificial ghastliness
to their appearance.
The English women, in like manner, when a
celebrated belle came under the pencil of Sir
Peter Lely, who exhibited to her emulative rivals
the sweet peculiarities of her long and languish.
ing eye, they must needs all have the same; and
not a lady could appear in public, be her visual
orbs large or small, bright or dull, but she must
affect the soft sleepiness, the tender and slowlymoving roll of her subduing exemplar.  But
though Sir Peter's gallant pencil deigned  to
compliment his numerous sitters by drawino
their strained aspect after the model of the peer
less belle, yet, in place of the nature-stamped look
jof modest languishment, he could not but often
130




IMPROVEMENT OF BEAUTY.
recognise the disgraceful leer and hideous squin
Let every woman be content to leave her eye,
as she found them, and to make that use of them
which was their design.  They were intended
to see with, and artlessly express the feelings
of a chaste and benevolent heart.  Let them
speak this unsophisticated language, and beauty
will beam from the orb which affectation would
have rendered odious.
Analogy of reasoning will bring forward similar remarks with regard to the movements of
the mouth, which many ladies use, not to speak
with or to admit food, but to show dimples and
display white teeth. IWherever a desire for exhibition. is discovered, a disposition to disapprove
and ridicule arises in the spectator. The preten
tensions of the vain are a sort of assumption ovei
others, which arms the whole world against thei
131




PECULIARITIES
IN
FEMALE CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR,
Best suited to the Display of
BEAUTY AND GRACE.
" By her graceful walk, the Queen of Love is known."
VIRGIL.
As order is the harmonizer of the universe,
cs consistency is the graceful combiner of all that
is beautiful in woman.
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 woman of maturer
years and larger proportions; but at all times of
life, when the figure is slender, the neck swan
132




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.,ike, and the motions 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
any thing 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
133




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
ease of nmanner which gives play to all the gracefil motions of her elegantly undulating form
For her to crane up her neck, would be to change
its fine swan-like bend ilto 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 curtsey; 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
134




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
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 adapt.
ation 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;
ier motions few and commanding; and the carriage of her head and person erect and steady..n excess in stateliness could not have.ny
135




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
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 ex
hibition.  But when a majestic fair one pre.
sumes to arrogate an undue consequence in hei
air, it is not to gratify our senses that she as
sumes tne extraordinary diadem; and, irritated
at the contempt her greatness would wish to
-hrow upon us inferior personages, we treat her!ike an usurper; and, armed with a sense of in136




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
iustice, we determine to pull her at once fror.
her throne.
The easy, graceful air, we see, belongs exclu
sively 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 demeanours according to the
degrees in which they approach the two beforementioned 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 demeanour 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
6skip and play," the affectation on both side
S             137




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
q equally absurd: discords of this kind are eve,
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 halfblindness, 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
uchl follies as these are not more a death-blow
o all respect for the novice that plays them of;
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
138




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
air. We find that it was " by her graceful wtalk
the Queen of Love was known!"  In this particular, the French women far exceed us. Pope
observes, that "they move easiest who have.earnt to dance."  And it is the step of the
nighly-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.
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
1irregular wildness; but the tender tree, pliant
in yoath, needs only the directing hand of a
careful gardener to train it to symmetry and
luxuriance.
Muny of the naturally most pleasing parts
of the female shape have I seen assume an appearance absolutely disgusting; and all from
an outre air, vulgar manners, or hoydening pos.
139




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
tures. The bosom, which should be promitent,
oy 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.
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
honourable and mutual attachment; and so great
is the p' vilege allowed for this purpose, that it
140




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOURI
in deemed laudable in woman to collect into her*
self 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 friends, that there are shades of
demeanour 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 occa
sion, 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
"Iix




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
probable intimacy.  In short, no intimacy shouls
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 I
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 softEach other's pillow to repose divine 1"
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 croy
nies 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 influences
142




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR
heart meets heart," and acknowledges hexi s
the pledge of Heaven to man, of immortality,
and endless joy. 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 t
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 ms
143




CAItlIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
*esy of the virgin —the sober dignity of matron
years
It is to be regretted that there are not a few
conceited and flippant young men, who, relying
on their claims of wealth or birth, consider themselves exempted from the general obligation of
deference and courtesy towards the fairer sex.
Those unmannered persons are too prone to address ladies with unbecoming familiarity, to be
careless in their choice of words, rude in their
gestures and movements, and insolent in their
unrespectful stare. The offences of such individuals in this respect are even less entitled to
excuse than the ill manners of a vulgar and uneducated man, who, rising in the scale of society,
finds it difficult to leave behind him the habits of
early life.
Both these classes of offenders, however, are to
be checked and punished, by every lady who is
desirous of upholding the dignity and influence
of her sex. When any man, who is not privi144




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
leged 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 for ever out of countenance.
As to the salute, the pressure of the lipsthat 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
T              145




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
become our husband,-our bosom's inmate, tne
friend of our heart's core-to them are exclusively consecrated the lips of delicacy,-and woe
be to her who yields them to the stain of profanation!
By the last word, I do not mean the embrace
of vice, but merely that indiscriminate facility
which some young women have in permitting
what they call a good-natured kiss. These good.
natured kisses have often very bad effects, and
can never be permitted without injuring the fine
gloss of that exquisite modesty, which is the
fairest garb of virgin beauty.
I remember, says a traveller, the Count M,
one of the most accomplished and handsomest
young men in Vienna. When I was there, he
was passionately in love with a girl of almost
peerless beauty.  She was the daughter of a
man of great rank and influence at court; and
on these considerations, as well as in regard
to her charms, she was followed by a multitude
146




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR,
of suitors.  She was lively and amiable, and
treated them ail with an affability which still
keot them in her train, although it was generally
known that she had avowed a predilection for
Count M-, and that preparations were making
for their nuptials. The Count was of a refined
mind and delicate sensibility. He loved her for
herself alone-for the virtues which he believed
dwelt in a beautiful form; and, like a lover
of such perfections, he never approached her without timidity, and when he touched her, a fire shot
through his veins that warned him not to invade
the vermilion sanctuary of her lips. Such were
his feelings, when one night at his intended
father-in-law's, a party of young people were met
to celebrate a certain festival. Several of the
young lady's rejected suitors were present. Forfeits were one of the pastimes, and all went on
with the greatest merriment till the Count was
commanded by some witty mademoiselle to re
deem  his glove by saluting the cheek of his
147




CARRIAGE AND DEMEANOUR.
intended bride. The Count blushed, trembled,
advanced to his mistress, retreated, advanced
again-and at last, with a tremour that shook
every fibre in his frame, with a modest grace he
put the soft ringlet which played upon her cheek
to his lips, and retired to demand his redeemed
pledge in evident confusion. His mistress gaily
smiled, and the game went on. One of her
rejected suitors, but who was of a merry unthinking disposition, was adjudged, by the same indiscreet crier of the forfeits,-" as his last treat
before he hanged himself, " she said,-to snatch
a kiss from the lips of the object of his recent
Vows"' Lips whose broken sighs such fragrance fling,
As Love had fanned them freshly with his wing I"
A  lively contest between the lady and the
gentleman lasted for a minute; but the lady
yielded, though in the midst of a convulsive
laugh.  And the Count irad the mortification,
the agony, to see the lips, which his passionate
148




CARRIAGE AT.D DEMEANOIUR
and delicate love would not allow him to touch,
kissed with roughness and repetition by another
mall, and one whom  he despised. Without a
word, he rose from his chair, left the room —and
the house; and, by that good-natured kiss, the
fir boast of Vienna lost her husband and hey
blver.'he Count never saw her more.
149




ON THE
MANAGEMENT OF THE PERSON
IN DANCING.
On with the dance i let joy be unconfined
Childe HaroM.
IT is vain to expend large sums of money and
large portions of time in the acquirement of
accomplishments, unless some attention be also
paid to the attainment of a certain grace in their
exercise, which, though a circumstance distinct
from themselves, is the secret of their charms
and pleasure-exciting quality.
As dancing is the accomplishment most calculated to display a fine form, elegant taste, and
graceful carriage, to advantage; so towards it,
our regards must be particularly turned; and we,Xall find that when Beauty, in all her power,
150




DANCING.
is to be set forth, she canaot choose a more efltc
tive exhibition.
By the exhibition, it must not be understood
that I mean to insinu.ate any thing like that
scenic exhibition whih we may expect from
professors of the art, who often, regardless of
modesty, not only display the symmetry of their
persons, but indelicately expose them, by most
improper dresses and attitudes, on the public
stage. What I propose by calling dancing an
elegant mode of showing a fine form to advantage, has nothing more in it, than to teach the
lovely young woman to move unembarrassed and
with peculiar grace through the mazes of a
dance, performed either in a private circle or
public ball.
It must always be remembered, and it cannot
be too often repeated, "That whatever it is worth
while to do, it is worth while to do well." Therefore as all times and nations have deemed dancing
a salubrious, decorous, and beautiful exercise,
151




DANCING.
or rather happy pastime and celebration of festivity, I cannot but regard it with particular
complacency. Dancing carries with it a banquet
alike for taste and feeling.  The spectator of a
well-ordered ball sees, at one view, in a number
of elegant young women, every species of female
loveliness. He beholds the perfection of personal
proportion. They are attired with all the gay
habiliments of fashion and of fancy; and their
harmonious and agile movements unfold to him,
at every turn, the ever-varying, ever-charming
grace of motion.
Thus far his senses only are gratified.  But
the pleasure stops not there. His best feelings
receive their share also. He looks on each gay
countenance, he sees hilarity in every step; he
listens to their delightful converse, communicated
by snatches; and, with a pleasure sympathizing
with theirs, he cannot but acknowledge that
dancing is one of the most innocent and rational,
as well as the most elegant amusements of your
152




DANCING.
It is in eed the favourite pastime of nature.
We find it in courts, we meet it on the village
green. Here the rustic swain whispers his ardent suit to his blushing maid, while his beating
heart bounds against hers in the swift wheel of
the rapid dance. There the polished courtiei
breathes a soft sigh into the ear of the lady of
his vows, as he and she timidly entwine their
arms in the graceful allemande. But dancing
has been appropriated to higher purposes than
these; it formed a part of the religious ceremonies of the Jews.
In every age of fashion but the present, dancing was as much expected from young persons
of both sexes, as that they should join in smiles
when mutually pleased. In days of yore, in
the most polite eras of Greece and Rome, and
of the chivalrous ages, we find, that dancing was
a favourite amusement with the first ranks of
men. Kings, heroes, and unbearded youth, alike
mingled in the graceful exercise.
U             153




DANCING.
The utmost in dancing to which a gentle
woman ought to aspire, is an agile and graceful
movement of her feet, an harmonious motion
with her arms, and a corresponding easy carriage
of her whole body.  But, when she has gained
this proficiency, should she find herself so unusually mistress of the art as to be able, in any
way, to rival the professors by whom she has been
taught, she must ever hold in mind, that the same
style of dancing is not equally proper for all
kinds of dances.
For instance, the country-dance and the cotillion, require totally different movements.  i
know that it is a common thing to introduce all
the varieties of opera-steps into the simple figure
of the former.  This ill-judged fashion is incon
sistent with the character of the dance, and
consequently so destroys the effect, that no pleasure is produced to the eye of the judicious
spectator by so discordant an exhibition.  The
characteristic of a country-dance is that of gay
154




DANCING.
simplicity. The steps should be few and easy,
and the corresponding motion of the arms and
body unaffected, modest, and graceful.
Before I go farther upon the subject, I sanno
but stop a little to dwell more particularly on the
necessity there is for more attention than we
usually find paid to the management of the arms.
and general person, in dancing.
In looking on at a ball, perhaps you will see
that every woman in a dance of twenty couple,
moves her feet with sufficient attention to beauty
and elegance; but, with regard to the deportment
of the rest of the person, most likely you will
not discover one in a hundred who seems to know
more about it than the most uncultivated damsel
that ever jogged at a village ball.
I cannot exactly describe what it is that we
see in the carriage of our young ladies in the
dance; for it is difficult to point out a want by
any other expression than a negative.  But it
is only requisite for my readers to recall to
155




DANCING.
memory the many inanimate, ungraceful forms,
from the waist upwards, that they nightly see
at balls, and I need not describe more circumstantially.
For these ladies to suppose that they are fine
dancers because they execute a variety of difficult steps with ease and precision, is a great
mistake. The motion of the feet is but half the
art of dancing; the other, and indeed the most
conspicuous part, lies in the movement of the
body, arms, and head. Here elegance must be
conspicuous.
The body should always be poised with such
ease as to command a power of graceful undue
lation, in harmony with the motion of the limbs
in the dance. Nothing is more ugly than a stiff
body and neck during this lively exercise. The
general carriage should be elevated and light;
the chest thrown out, the head easily erect, but
flexible to move with every turn of the figure *
and the limbs should be all braced and anima.
156




DANCING.
ted with the spirit of motion, which seems ready
to bound through the very air. By-this elasticity
pervading the whole person when the dancer
moves off, her flexible shape will gracefully sway
with the varied steps of her feet; and her arms,
instead of hanging loosely by her side, or rising
abruptly and squarely up to take hands with her
partner, will be raised in beautiful and harmonious unison and time with the music and the
figure; and her whole person will thus exhibit
to the delighted eye perfection in beauty, grace,
and motion.
This attention to the movement of the general
figure, and particularly to that of the arms (for
with them is the charm of elegant action,) though,
in a moderated degree, is equally applicable
to the country-dance and the Scotch reel, as
to the minuet, the cotillon, and other French
dances.
A general idea bf natural grace, in all dances,
being laid down as a first principle in this ele
157




DANCING.
Rant art, I shall suggest a few remarks on the
leading characters of each style; and from them,
I hope, my fair friends will be able to gather
some rules which may serve them  as useful
auxiliaries to the lessons of their dancing-master.
The common country-dance, as its very name
implies, consists of simplicity and cheerfulness;
hence the female who engages in it, must aim
at nothing more, in treading its easy mazes,
than executing a few simple steps with unaffected elegance. Her body, her arms, the turn
of her head, the expression of her countenance,
all must bear the same character of negligent
grace, of elegant activity, of decorous gaiety.
The Scotch reel has steps appropriated to itself, and in the dance can never be displaced for
those of France, without an absurdity too ridiculous even to imagine without laughing. There
are no dancers in the world more expressive of
inward hilarity and happiness than the Scotch
are, when performing in their own reels. The
158




DANCING.
music is sufficient-so jocund are its soundsto set a whole company on their feet in a monent, and to dance with all their might, till it
ceases, like people bit by the tarantula. Hence,
as the character of reels is merriment, they must
be performed with much more joyance of manner
than even the country-dance; and, therefore, they
are better adapted, as society is now constituted
to the social private circle than to the public ball.
They demand a frankness of deportment, an
undisguised jocularity, which few large parties
will properly admit; therefore, they are more at
home in the baronial aed kindred-filled hall of
Jhe thane of the Highland clan, than in the
splendid and mixed ball-room of the modish man
of fashion.
French dances, which include minuets, cotil.,ons, and all the round of ballet figures, admit of
every new refinement and dexterity in the agile
art; and, while exhibiting in them, there is no
step, no turn, no attitude, within the verge of
159




D &NCING.
maiden delicacy, that the dancer may not adopt
and practise.
Though much of graceful display is made in
these dances, yet there are many rivals in the
cotillon contending for the palm of superiority;
and the contest, throughout, if maintained with
the original elegant decorum of the design, may
be continued with undeviating modesty and discretion.
But with regard to the lately introduced Ger
man waltz, I cannot speak so favourably; 1 must
agree with Goeth6, when writing of the national
dance of his country, " that none but husbands
and wives can with any propriety be partners in
the waltz."
There is something in the close approximation
of persons, in the attitudes, and in the motion,
which ill agrees with the delicacy of woman,
should she be placed in such a situation with
any other man than the most intimate connexion
she can have in life.  Indeed, I have often
160




DANCING.
heard men, of no very-overstrained feeling, say
"that there are very few women in the world
with whom they could bear to dance the German
waltz."
The fandango, though graceful in ics own
ountry-because danced, from custom, with as
reserved a mind as our maidens would make a
curtsey,-is, nevertheless, when attempted here,
too great a display of the person for any modest
American woman to venture.  It is a solo!
Imagine what must be the assurance of the young
woman, who, unaccustomed by the habits of her
country to such singular exhibitions ot herself,
could get up in a room full of company, and, with
an'nblushing face, go through all the evolutions,
postures, and vaultings, of the Spanish fandango 
Certainly, there are few discreet men in our
country who would say, "such a woman I should
lke for my wife!"'"he castanets, which are used in this dance,
by attracting extraordinary attention, afford an
v             161




DANCIiN.
ther argument against its being adopted anyvhere but on the stage. The tambourin, the
cymbals, and all other noisy accompaniments, in
the hands of a lady-dancer, are equally blameable; and though a woman may, by their means,
exhibit her agility and person to advantage, she
may depend oh it, that while the artist only is
admired, the woman will sink into cuntempt;
and that, though she may possibly meet with
lovers to throw a score of embroidered handkerchiefs at her feet, she will hardly encounter
one of a thousand who will venture to trust himself to the offering her the bond of a single gold
ring.
The bullero, another of our Spanish importations, is a dance of so questionable a description,
that I cannot but proscribe it also. It may be
performed with perfect modesty; but the sentiment of it depends so entirely on the disposition
of the dancer, that Delicacy dare hardly venture
to enrol herself in its lists, lest the par.ner chosen
162




DANCING.
for her might be of a temper to turn its gaiety into
licentiousness; to produce blushes of Shame where
she promised herself the glow of pleasure, and
send her away from what ought to have been an
innocent amusement, filled with the bitterness
of insulted delicacy.
In short, in addressing my fair countrywomen
on this subject, I would sum up my advice, in
regard to the choice of dances, by warning them
against the introduction of new-fangled fashions
of this sort.  Let them  leave the languishing
and meretricious attitudes of modern ballet-teachers to the dancing-girls of India, or to the Circassian slaves of Turkey, whose disgraceful business
is to please a tyrant for whom they can feel no
love.
Let our American fair also turn away from the
almost equally unchaste dances of the southern
kingdoms of Europe, and, content with the gay
step of France, and the active merriments of
England and Scotland, with their own festive
163




DANCING.
movements, continue their native country balls ta
their blameless delight, and to the gratification
of every tasteful and benevolent observer.
While thus remarKing on the manner of dancing, it may not be unacceptable to add a few
words on the dress most appropriate to its light
and unembarrassed motion.
Long trains are, of course, too cumbrous an
appendage to be intentionally assumed when
proposing to dance; but it must also be remarked,
that very short petticoats are as inelegant as
the others are inconvenient.  Scanty circumscribed habiliments impede the action of the
limbs, and, besides their indelicacy, show the
leg in the least graceful of all possible points of
view. The most elegant attire for a ball is, that
the under garments should be absolutely short,
but the upper one, which should be of light ma.
terial, should reach at least to the top of the
instep. It should a-so be sufficiently ful to fall
easily in folds from the waist downwards to the
164




DANCING.
foot.  By.lis arrangement, when the dancer
begins her graceful exercise, the drapery will
elegantly adapt itself to the motion and contour
of her limbs; and falling accidentally on her
foot, or as accidentally when she bounds along,
discovering, under its flying folds, her beautifully-turned ankle.  Symmetry and grace will
be occasionally displayed, almost unconsciously,
and thus Modesty, taken unawares, will adorn,
with her bilsh es, the perfect lineamenets of female
oeauty,




MANAUEMENT OF THE PERSON
IN SINGING, PLAYING ON TIIE PIANO.
FORTE, HARP, &c.
WHAT has been said in behalf of simple and
appropriate dancing, may also be whispered in
the ear of the fair practitioner in music; and,
by analogy, she may, not unbeneficially, apply the
suggestions to her own case.
There are many young women, who when
they sit down to the piano or the harp, or to
sing, twist themselves into so many contortions,
and writhe their bodies and faces about into
such actions and grimaces, as would almost incline one to believe that they are suffering under
the torture of the toothache or the gout. Their
bosoms heave, their shoulders shrug, their heads
swing to the tight and left, their lips quiver, their
166




SINGING AND PLAYING.
eyes roll; they sigh, they pant, they seem ready
to expire!  And what is all this about? They
are merely playing a favourite concerto, or sing
ing a new Italian song.
If it were possible for these conceit-intoxicated
warblers, these languishing dolls, to guess what
rational spectators say of their follies, they would
be ready to break their instruments and be
dumb for ever.  What they call expression in
singing, at the rate they would show  it, is
only fit to be exhibited on the stage, when the
character of the song intends to portray the utmost ecstasy of passion to a sighing swain. In
short, such an echo to the words and music of
a love-ditty, is very improper in any young woman who would wish to be thought as pure in
heart as in person. If amatory addresses are to
be sung, let the expression be in the voice and
the composition of the air, not in the looks and
gestures of the lady-singer. The utmost that
she ought to allow  herself to do, when thus
167




SINGING AND PLAYING.
breathing out the accents of love, is to wear a
serious, tender countenance.  More than this is
bad, and may produce reflections in the minds
of the hearers very inimical to the reputation of
he fair warbler.
By this slight sketch, my fair readers will
perceive that I mean simplicity to be the principle and the decoration of all their actions; as
it should pervade them in the dance, so it should
imbue their voice and action in playing and in
singing.
Let their attitude at the piano or the harp
be easy and graceful. I strongly exhort them
to avoid a stiff, awkward, elbowing position
at either; they must observe an elegant flow
of figure at both. The latter certainly admits
of most grace, as the shape of the instrument
is calculated, in every respect, to show a fine
figure to advantage. The contour of the whole
form, the turn and polish of a beautiful hand
and arm, the richly-slippered and well-made
168




SINGING AND PLAYINGk
foot on the pedal stops, the gentle motion of a
lovely neck, and, above all, the sweetly-tempered
expression of an intelligent countenance; these
are shown at one glance when the fair performer
is seated unaffectedly, yet gracefully, at the harp.
Similar beauty of position may be seen in a
lady's management of a lute, a guitar, a man.
dolin, or a lyre. The attitude at a piano-forte
or at a harpsichord, is not so happily adapted
to grace. From the shape of the instrument,
the performer must sit directly in front of P
straight line of keys; and her own  posture
being correspondingly erect and square, it ie
hardly possible that it should not appear rather
inelegant. But if it attain not the ne plus ultra
of grace, at least she may prevent an air of
stiffness; she may move her hands easily on the
keys, and bear her head with that elegance of
carriage which cannot fail to impart its own
character to the whole of her figure. One of
the most graceful forms that I ever saw sit at
Nas          169




SINGING AND PLAYING.
si;^,runment, is that of St. Cecilia, painted by
Sil Johua Reynolds, playing on the organ. It
is ihe portrait of the late Mrs. R. B. Sheridan;
and, from the simplicity of the attitude, and the
graceful elevation of the head, it is, without
exception, one of the most interesting pictures
I ever beheld.
If ladies, in meditating on grace of deportment, would rather consult the statues of fine
sculptors, and the figures of excellent painters,
than the lessons of their dancing-masters, or the
dictates of their looking-glasses, we should, doubtless, see simplicity where we now find affectation,
and a thousand ineffable graces taking place of
the present regime of absurdity and conceit.
It was by studying the perfect sculpture of
Greece and Rome, that a certain lady of rank,
eminent for her peculiarly beautiful attitudes,
acquired so great a superiority in mien above
her fair contemporaries of every court in which
she became an inmate. It was by meditating
170




SINGING AND PLAYING.
on the classic pictures of Poussin, that one of
the first tragic actresses on the French stage
learnt to move and look like the daughter of the
sun. And by a similar study, did Mrs. Siddons
derive inspiration from the pencil of Corregio and
Rubens.
in




MANAGEMENT OF THE PERSON
IN DRAWING, READING, &o
GLANCING at the grsopic art, reminds me that
some degree of proficiency in this interestlng
accomplishment is also an object of study with
my fair young countrywomen. I shall not make
any observation on their progress in the art itself,
but only with regard to their manner of practising it.
Both for health and beauty's sake, they should
be careful not to stoop too much, or to sit too
long in the exercise of the pencil. A bending
position of the chest and head, when frequently
assumed, is apt to contract the lungs, round
the back, redden the face, and give painful
digestions and headach. An awkward posture
in writing, reading, or sewing, is productive of
17 2




DRAWING, READING, ET.
the same bad effects; and, what may seem
almost incredible, (but many who have witnessed
the same, can, I am sure, give their evidence
in support of my representation,) there are
young persons, who, when writing, drawing,
reading, or working, Keep a sort of ludicrous
time with their occupations, by making a succession of unmeaning and hideous grimaces. I
have seen a pretty young woman, while writing
a letter to her lover, draw  up her lips, and
twist the muscles of her face in every direction
that her pen moved; and so ugly did she look
during this sympathetic performance, tnat 1
could not forbear thinking that, could her swain
see the object then dictating her vows, he would
take fright at the metamorphosis, and never be
made to believe it could be the same person.
Mumbling to yourself, while reading, is also
another very inelegant habit. A person should
either read determinately so much aloud as to
se heard distinctly by the company present, oi
173




DRAWING, READING, ETC.
peruse her book without even moving her lips.
An inward muttering, or a silent motion of the
mouth, while reading, is equally unpleasant tc
the observer, and disfiguring to the observed.
In short, there is nothing, however minute
in manners, however insignificant in appearance
that does not demand some portion of attention
from a well-bred and highly-polished young woman. An author of no small literary renown,
has observed, that several of the minutest habits
or acts of some individuals may give sufficient
reasons to guess at their temper.  The choice
of a gown, or even the folding and sealing of
a letter, will bespeak the shrew and the scold,,he careless and the negligent,
174




MANAGEMENT OF' TIE VOICE;
CONSISTENCY OF
DEPORTMENT AND DRESS
THE manner of speech is important. The very
voice of an individual, the tone she assumes in
speaking to strangers, or even familiarly to her
friends, will lead a keen observer to discover
what elements her temper is made of.  The
low key belongs to the sojlen, sulky, obstinate 
the shrill note to the petulant, -he pert, the
impatient: some will pronounce the common: a.nd
trite  question "how  do you do?" with such
harshness and asperity, that they seem positively
angry with you that you should ever do at all.
Some affect a lisping, which at once betrays
childishness and downright nonsense; others will
oid their words gallop  so swiftly, that the
175'




VOICE, DEPORTMENT, AND DRESS.
ablest ear is unable to follow  the rapid race.
and gathers nothing but confused and unmeaning
sounds. All these extremes are to be avoided
and, although nature has differently formed the
organs of speech for different individuals, yet
there is a mode to correct nature's own aberra
tions. I have heard of sensible men, who, merely
tir the tone of voice which did not quite harmonize with  their ears, have  dropped  their
connexion with women, who, in all other poilts
were unexceptionable.
Admit this, and another salutary truth will
be made manifest. If gooa-breeding and graceful refinement are ever most proper, they are
always so. It is not sufficient that Amaryllis
is amiable and elegant in her whole deportment
to strangers and to her acquaintance; she must
be undeviatingly so to her most intimate friends
to nearest relations, to fahe, ther,   rother, rthers,
sisters, husband.  She must have no dishabille.r them, either of mind or person.
176




VOT'E, DEPORTMENT, AND DRESS.
This last word inclines me to pursue the hint
farther; to exhort my fair readers, while I plead
for consistency in manners, also to carry the
analogy to dress. If they would always appear
amiable, elegant, and endearing to the beings
with whom  they are to spend their lives, let
them always make those beings the first objects
for whose pleasure their accomplishments, their
manners, and their dress are to be cultivated.
Let them  never appear before these tender relatives in the disgusting negligence of disordered
and soiled clothes.  By this has many a lovely
girl lost her lover; and by this has many an
amiable wife alienated the affections of her husband.
Let me, then, in concluding this chapter, again
repeat, that consistency is the soul of female
power, the charm of her fascination, the bond of
her social happiness.
x             177




DIGNITY  AND  FAMILIARITY
OF
DEPORTMENT.
THE carriage of a woman to her equals being
founded on a just appreciation of their merits,
and a proper respect to herself, the same sentiment will be found to pervade her conduct to
her superiors in rank.
With regard to men, when they occupy a
higher station than herself, she must proportion
reverential courtesy to them  according to the
rules of ceremony. If she knows them merely
as officers high in authority, her manner must
then be that of calm, dignified respect. But
when she finds that merit is yet higher in any
of these men than his tit.es, then, let her show
teo homage of the soul, as well as that of the
178




DIGNITY AND FAMILIARITY.,ody; for real greatness ennobles the head which
bows.
We regard society as a grand machine, in
which each member has the place best fitted for
him; or, to make use of a more common illustration, as a vast drama, in which every person
has the part allotted to him most appropriate to
his abilities. One enacts the general, others
the subalterns, others the soldiery; but all obey
the Great Director, who best knows what is in
man.  Regarding things in this light, all arrogance, all pride, all envyings and contempt of
others, from  their relative degrees, disappear,
as emotions to which we have no pretensions.
We neither endowed ourselves with high birth
nor eminent talents.  We are altogether beings
of a creation independent of our own will; and,
therefore, bearing our own honours as a gift, not
as a right,- we should condescend to our inferiors
(whose place it might have been our lot to fill,)
and regard with deference our superiors, whom
179




DIGNITY AND FAMILIARITY.
Heaven, by so elevating, has intended that we
should respect.
This sentiment of order in the mind, this conviction of the beautiful harmony in a well-or"n
ganized, civil society, gives us dignity with our
inferiors, without alloying it with the smallest
particle of pride; by keeping them  at a due
distance. we merely maintain ourselves and them
in the rank in which a higher Power has placed
us; and the condescension of our general manners to them, and our kindnesses in their exi.
gencies, and generous approbation of their worth,
are sufficient acknowledgements of sympathy, to
show that we avow the same nature with themselves, the same origin, the same probation, the
same end.
Our demeanour with our equals is more a
matter of policy. To be indiscreetly familiar,
to allow of liberties being taken with your goodnature, all this is likely to happen with people
of the same rank with ourselves, unless we hold
180




DIGNITY AND FAMILIARITY.
our mere acquaintance at a proper distance, by a
certain reserve.  A womln may be gay, ingenuous, perfectly amiable to her associates, and yet
reserved. Avoid all sudden intimacies, all needless secret-telling, all closeting about nonsense,
caballing, taking mutual liberties with each other
il regard to domestic arrangements; in short,
beware of familiarity!  The kind of familiarity
which is common in families, and amongst women
of the same classes in society, is that of an indiscriminate gossiping; an interchange of thoughts
without any effusion of the heart. Then an unceremonious way of reproaching each other, for
a real or supposed neglect; a coarse manner
of declaring your faults; a habit of jangling on
trifles; a habit of preferring your own whims or
ease before that of the persons about you; an
indelicate way of breaking into  each other's
privacy. In short, doing every thing that declares
the total oblivion of all politeness and decent
manners
181




DIGNITY AND FAMILIARITY.
This series of errors happens every day amongst
brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, and
female acquaintances; and what are the consequences  Distaste, disgust, everlasting quarrels,
and perhaps total estrangement in the end!
I have seen many families bound toget er by
the tenderest affection; I have seen many hearts
wrought into each other by the sweet amalgamation of friendship; but with none did I ever
find this delicious foretaste of the society in
Elysium, where a never-failing politeness was
not mingled in all their thoughts, words, and
actions, to each other.
CO




CONCLUSION'Can comneliness of form, or shape, or air,
With comeliness of words or deeds compare?
No! those at first tl' unwary heart may gain,
But these, these only, cal the heart retain."
GAV
WCHEN so much has been said of the body
and its accoutrements, I cannot but subjoin a
few words on the intelligence which animates
the frame, and of the organ which imparts its
meaning.
Connected speech is granted to mankind alone,
Parrots may prate, and monkeys chatter, but it is
nnly to the reasonable being that power of combining ideas, expressing their import, and uttering
in audible sounds, in all its various gradations,
tne language of sense and judgment, of love and
-esentment, is awarded as a gift, that gives us
183




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
a proud and undeniable superiority to all the rest
of the creation.
To employ this faculty well and gracefully,
is one grand object of education.  The mere
organ itself, as to sound, is like a musical instrument, to  be modulated with elegance, or
struck with the' disorderly nerve of coarseness
and vulgarity.
I must add to what has been said before on the
subject, that excessive rapidity of speaking is,
in general, even with a clear enunciation, very
disagreeable; but, when it is accompanied with
a shrill voice, the effect is inexpressibly discordant and hideous. The first orator the heathen
world ever knew, so far remedied the natural
defects of his speech, (and  they were most
embarrassing,) as to become the most easy and
persuasive of speakers. In like manner, when
u young woman finds any difficulty or inelegance
in her speech, she ought to pay the strictest
attention to rectify the fault.'IQ/t




ONCLUDING   MARKS.
Should she have too quick or encumbeied an
articulation, she ought to read with extreme
slowness for several hours in the day, and even
pay attention, in speaking, to check the rapidity
or confusion of her utterance. By similar antidotal
means, she must attack a propensity of talking
in a high key. Better err in the opposite extreme
while she is prosecuting her cure, as the voice
will gradually and imperceptibly attain its most
harmonious pitch, than by at first attempting the
medium, most likely retain too much of the
screaming key. A clear articulation, a tempered
intonation, and in a moderate key, are essentials
in the voice of an accomplished female. Her
graceful peculiarities must be the gift of nature,
or the effect of cultivated taste. Fine judgment
and delicate sensibility are the best schoolmistresses on this subject. Indeed, where, in relation
to man or woman, shall we find that an improved
understanding, an enlightened mind, and a refined
taste, are not the best polishers of manners, and
Y             1S5




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
m all respects the most efficient handnlads of
the Muses?
Let me, then, in one short sentence, in one
tender adieu, my fair readers and endeared
friends! enforce upon your minds, that if Beauty
be woman's weapon, it must be feathered by
the Graces, pointed by the eye of Discretion,
and shot by the hand of Virtue!
Look, then, not merely to your mirrors, when
you would decorate yourselves' for conquest, but
consult the speculum, which will reflect your
hearts and minds. Remember that it is the affections of a sensible and reasonable soul you hope
to subdue, and seek for arms likely to carry the
fortress.
He that is worthy, must love corresponding
excellence. Which of you all would wish to
marry a man merely for the colour of his eye,
or the shape of his leg. Think not then worse
if him than you world do of yourselves; and
186




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
hope not to satisfy his better wishes with the
possession of a merely handsome wife.
Beauty of person will ever be found a dead
letter, unless it be animated with beauty of mind.
"6For't is the mind that makes the body rich."
We must, then, not only cultivate the shape,
the complexion, the air, the attire, the manners,
but most assiduously must our attention be devoted to teach "the young idea how to shoot,"
and to fashion the unfolding mind to judgment
and virtue.  By such culture, it will not be
merely the charming girl, the captivating woman
we shall present to the world, but the dutiful
daughter, affectionate sister, tender wife, judicious mother, faithful friend, and amiable acquaintance.
The cultivation of the intellectual powers, so
necessary to the full development of the female
mind, requires some attention to the choice of
suitable books-those which will at the same
187




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
time store the memory with rich subjects fo?
conversation, and embellish the taste. If I were
to hazard a few words of advice on this subject,
I would recommend to my fair readers to furnish
their libraries with a copy of the far-famed
Encyclopedia Americana, as a solid foundation
of natural and moral science, history, and biography,-an excellent book of reference on any
subject of information in which one may feel
deficient, or may desire to refresh the memory.
Its excellence in furnishing materials for intelligent conversation, is universally acknowledged.
To form the taste by an unquestionable model
of style in English composition, one should read
the works of our American Addison, the elegant
author of the Sketch-Book.  All that Johnson
has said in favour of the renowned 6" Spectator"
may with greater force and justice be applied to
Irving.
If a lady finds some time at her disposal which
may safely be devoted to fiction, the works of
188




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
Cooper, Bird, and Kennedy among our own
countrymen, and those of Walter Scott, Mr.
Dickens, Miss Austen, the Misses Porter, Miss
Mitford and Miss Edgeworth among the British
novelists, should be placed highest on the list.
In biography, the lives of Walter Scott, Crabbe,
Cabot, Cardinal Richelieu, and Cardinal De Retz
may serve as an introduction. The biographical
notices of statesmen and the illustrious characters of our own country in the Encyclopaedia
Americana, having been furnished by Mr. Walsh,
will be found complete and accurate.
In poetry, after the standard poets of the last
century of whose works a sufficient quantity is
comprised in Dr. Aikin's collection, one should
read Scott, portions of Byron, all of Crabbe,
Joanna Baillie, Wordsworth, Hemans, and Cole.
ridge.
Much of the history of our own country may
be gleaned by a careful perusal of the different
articles in the Encyclopaedia, coring under this
189




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
head. Mackintosh's History of England, Scott's
History of Scotland, Grattan's of the Netherlands,
Crowe's of France, Sismondi's of Italy, and the
histories of Spain and Portugal and of Rome,
comprised in the Cabinet Cycloptedia, will, with
the articles on foreign history in the Encyclopaedia
Americana, to which we have already so frequently referred, furnish one with ample means
of intelligence in this useful and important branch
of liberal education.
The Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montague
are also entitled to attention. Lady Montague's
celebrity as an epistolary writer is unsurpassed,
and her descriptions of the countries she visited
are very lively, striking, and graphic. She is
justly considered one of the best writers of the
famous age of Queen Anne.
Murray's Encyclopedia of Geography is another
very important work. This is the completest
view of the world, in its physical, statistical, and
moral relations, which has yet appeared. It occu190




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
pies three imperial octavo volumes, and contains
more than a thousand illustrations from original
drawings, relating to the manners and customs,
animal, vegetable, and mineral productions, anal
towns, cities, and famous buildings in the world
The Book of Flowers, and the Language of
Flowers, are elegant trifles, suited to a lady's
boudoir.
Miss Austen's novels iaay be recommended for
their quiet, domestic scenes, their uniform purity
of sentiment and naturalness of character. Lady
Morgan's are valuable for the light they throw
upon continental as well as English and Irish
life and manners, and their fearless advocacy of
liberal principles in politics.
I might extend this list further, and go into
every department of knowledge; but in a work
like the present, I may be deemed to have
transcended the boundaries of my subject, by
naming the woern * bhich first occurred to me as
most suitable tf.   lady's reading; but the judi
191




CONCLUDING REMARKS.
cious reader will hardly consider it impertinent
in me, to mention my favourite books, when
insisting on the importance of intellectual cultivation to the perfecting of female beauty. So
long as the highest degree of beauty shall consist
in the expression of soul, feeling and intelligence
in happy union, so long it will be important for
E lady to be careful in the selection of her booka'M



APPENDIX.
a








APPENDIX.
0o  rfHE USE OF CORSETS.
AsHIoN lives on novelty, and we have on this
account much charity for its wanderings and
eccentricities.  Bonnets, with a snout as long
as an elephant's proboscis, or a marin as broad
as a bushel measure, are merely ridiculous.
Shoulders that look like wings, and sleeves as
wide as a petticoat, we think are not particularly
graceful; but they have at least the merit of
being airy, and we take no offence. We cannot
however, extend our indulgence to the compressed
waist wnich is the rage at present. We know
that as often as the waist is lengthened to its
195




CORSETS.
natural limits, this tendency to abridge its diam-n
eter appears; and we confess we are puzzled
to account for the fact; for surely it is strange,
that a permanent prepossession should exist in
favour of a mode of dress which is at once ugly,
unnatural, and pernicious. Were fashion under
the guidance of taste, the principles of drapery
in painting and sculpture would never be lost
sight of in its changes. The clothes that cover
us may be disposed in an infinite variety of forms,
without violating those rules which the artist
is careful to observe. The true form of the body
ought to be disclosed to the eye, without the
shape being exhibited in all its minutim, as in
the dress of a harlequin; but in no case should
the natural proportions (supposing the figure to
be good) be changed.  Ask the sculptor what
he thinks of a fashionable waist, pinched till
it rivals the lady's neck in tenuity, and he will
tell you it is monstr~us. Consult the physician,
and you will learn that this is one of those follies
196




CORSETS.
in which no female can long indulge with impu
nity; for health, and even life, are often sacrificed
to it.
Corsets are used partly as a warm  covering
to the chest, and partly to furnish a convenient
attachment to other parts of the female dress.
This is all proper and correct; but to these
uses fashion  superadds others, originating in
fantastical notions of beauty. Corsets are employed to modify the shape, to render the chest
as small below, and as broad above, as possible,
and to increase the elevation, fulness, and prominence of the bosom.  To show how this affects
the condition of the body, we must begin by
giving a short description of the thorax or chest,
which is the subject of this artificial compression.
Every one who has seen a skeleton, knows
that the chest consists of a cavity protected by
a curious frame-work of bones.  These are, 1st,
the back-bone, (consisting of vertebra, or short
iones iointed into one another) which sustains
197




CORSEITS
the whole upper part of the trunk; 2d, the
breast-bone, about seven or eight inches long,
and composed of three pieces; and 3dly, the ribs,
of which there are generally twenty-four.  Thetwelve ribs on each side are all fixed to the
oack-bone behind; seven of these, the seven
uppermost, are also attached to the breast-bone
before, and are, therefore, called true ribs. The
eighth rib has its end turned up, and rests on
the seventh; the ninth rests in the same way
on the  eighth; but the tenth, eleventh, and
twelfth are not connected with one another in
front at all.  The fore extremity of each rib
consists not of bone, but of an elastic substance
called cartilage. The elasticity of this substance
combined with the oblique position of the ribs,
constitutes a beautiful provision, in consequence
of which the chest enlarges and contracts its
volume to afford free play to the lungs.
WXe now wish to call attention to the form
f tlis cavity,, which, as we have seen, is sur.
198




CORSETS.
rounded and protected by the back. bone, rit,
and breast-bone, and is called the thorax, or
chest. The uppermost pair of ribs, which lie
just at the bottom of the neck, are very short;
the next pair is rather longer; the third longer
still; and thus they go on increasing in length
to the seventh pair, or last true ribs, after which
the length diminishes, but without materially
contracting the size of the cavity, because the
false ribs only go round a part of the body.
Hence the chest has a sort of conical shape, Dr
it may be compared to a bee-hive as it is some.
times made, the narrow or pointed end being
next the neck, and the broad end undermost.
]lhe natural form  of the thorax, in short, is
just the reverse of the fashionable shape of the
waist. The latter is narrow  below, and wide
above; the former is narrow above, and wide
below.
The lower part of the thorax is also much
more compressible, and of course more casiPl
199




CORSETS.
injured by ligatures than the upper.  In the
upper part, the bones form a complete circle;
and, from the small obliquity of the ribs, this
circle presents a great power of resistance tr
external pressure. But the last five ribs, called
the false ribs, besides being placed more obliquely,
become weaker as they decrease in length, and
having no support in front, their power of resisting external pressure is probably six times less
than that of the true ribs.  Hence ligatures
applied to this part of the body may contract
the natural size of the cavity perhaps one half.
Nature, in this instance, has intrusted the belle
with a discretionary power, guarding  against
its abuse, however, by severe penalties.  If she
chooses to brave the consequences, she may al
ways, with the help of lace and cord, produce
a great change on this part of her person.
From  the great care nature has bestowed to
strengthen the outer shell of the thorax, and to
combine mobility with strength, we may judgo
200




CORSETS.
of the importance of the organs within, and of
the value of free motion to their healthy action.
It is a further proof of this, as Soemmerring
observes, that the ribs are the first part of thi
bony frame-work which nature forms.  The thorax contains,-first, the heart, which is the centre
of the circulating system, and which, for the
sake of its metaphorical offices, every lady must
be anxious to keep from injury;-next, the lungs
which occupy by far the largest space, and of
the delicacy of whose operations, every one may
judge.  There are, besides, either within the
thorax, or in juxtaposition with it, the stomach,
liver, and  kidneys, with  the  aesophagus, the
trachea, or wind-pipe, part of the intestines and
many nerves, all intimately connected with the
vital powers.  Most of these organs are not only
of primary importance in themselves, but, through
the nerves, arteries, &c., their influence extends
to the head, and the remotest parts of the limbs,
go that when they are injured, health is poisoned
4;)! s          690




CORSETS.
ad its source, and the mischief always travels to
other parts of the body, disarranging and enfbee
bling the entire system, throughout all its ramifr
Cations.
imagine, now, what is the consequence of
applying compression, by corsets of some un.
yielding material, to a cavity enclosing so many
delicate organs, whose free action is essential
to health.  First, the lowest part of the shell of
-3e thorax yields most; the false ribs, and the
-ower true ribs, are pressed inwards; the whole
viscera in this part of the body, including part
of the intestines, are squeezed close together
and forced upwards; and, as the pressure is
continued above, they are forced higher still.
If the lacing is carried farther, the breast-bone
is raised, and sometimes bent; the collar-bone
protrudes its inner extremity; and the shoulderblades are forced backwards.  The under part
of the lungs is pressed together, and the en.
trance of the blood into it hindered; the abdct'202




mahill viscera, being least protected, suffer severes
iy; the stomach is compressed, its distension
prevented, and its situation and form  changec(,
giving rise to imperfect digestion; the blood is
forced up to the head, where it generates various
complaints; the liver has its shape altered, and
its functions obstructed; the bones having their
natural motion constrained, distortion ensues, and
the high shoulder, the twisted spine or breastbone, begins at last to manifest itself through the
integuments and the clothes.
Another highly injurious effect of tight coreets is, that those who have been long so closely
laced, become at last unable to hold themselves
erect, or move wvith comfort without them, but,
ns is very justly said, fall together, in consequence of the natural form  and position of the
ribs being altered. The muscles of the back are
weakened  and crippled, and  cannot maintain
themselves in their natural position for any length
af time.  The spine, too, no longer accustom e
203




t bear the destined weight of the body, bends
and sinks down. Where tight lacing is practised,
young women, from fifteen to twenty years of
age, are found so dependent upon their corsets,
that they faint whenever they lay them  aside,
and therefore are obliged to have themselves
laced before going to sleep. For as soon as the
thorax and abdomen are relaxed, by being de,
prived of their usual support, the blood rushing
downwards, in consequence of the diminished
resistance to its motion, empties the vessels of
the head, and thus occasions fainting.
"From  1760  to about 1770," says Soem.
rmerring, " it was the fashion in Berlin and other
parts of Germany, and also in Holland a few
years ago, to apply corsets to children.  This
practice fell into disuse, in consequence of its
Deing observed, that children who did not wear
corsets grew  up straight, while  those  who
were treated with this extraordinary care, got
by it a high shoulder or a hunch. Many families
204




CORSETS.
might be named, in which parental fondness
selected the handsomest of several boys to put
in corsets, and the result w as, that these alone
were hunched. The deformity was attributed
at first to the improper mode of applying the
corsets, till it was discovered that no child thus
invested grew up straight, not to mention'the
risk of consumption and rupture which were
likewise incurred by using them.  I, for my part
affirm, that I do not know any woman, who, by
tight lacing, (that is, by artificial means,) has
obtained'a fine figure,' in whom I could not,
by accurate examination, point out either a high
shoulder, oblique compressed ribs, a lateral incarvation of the spine in the form of an italic S,
or some other distortion. I have had opportunities
of. verifying this opinion among ladies of high
condition, who, as models of fire form, were
brought forward for the purpose of putting me to
silonce."
Young ladies in course of time hope to,
^05




CORSETS,
come wives, and wives to become mothers. Even
in this last stage, few females have the courage
to resist a practice which is in general use,
though to them  it is trebly injurious.  But it
is sufficient to glance at this branch of the sub.
ject, on which, for obvious reasons, we cannot
follow our medical instructor. It is lamentable,
however, that mothers who have themselves
experienced the bitter fruits of tight lacing, still
permit their daughters to indulge in it.  There
is, in truth, no tyranny like the tyranny of
fashion.  " I have found mothers of discernment
and experience," says Soemmerring, " who pre.
dicted that in their 25th year, a hunch would
inevitably be the lot of their daughters, whom
they nevertheless allowed to wear corsets, be.
cause they were afraid to make their children
singular."
But it is time to speak of the diseases produced
by the passion for slender waists.  "One im
stonished," says Soemmerring. "ao the n amber
206




CORSETS.
df diseases which corsets occasion.  Those I
have  subjoined rest on the  authority of the
most eminent physicians.   Tight lacing pro"
ducesHeadach, giddiness, tendency  to fainting,
pain in the eyes, pain and ringing in the ears,
bleeding at the nose, shortness of breath, spitting
of blood, consumption, derangement of the circulation, palpitation of the heart, water in the chest,
loss of appetite, squeamishness, eructations, vomiting of blood, depraved digestion, flatulence, diarrhea, colic pains, induration of the liver, dropsy
and rupture.  It is also followed by melancholy,
hysteria, and many diseases peculiar to the female
constitution, which it is not necessary to enu.
nerate in detail."
But the injury does not fall merely on the
inward structure of the body, but also on its
outward beauty, and on the temper and feelilgs with which that beauty is associated. Beauty
is in reality but another name for that expression
207




CORSETS
of countenance which is the index of sound
health, intelligence, good feelings, and peace of
mind.  All are aware, that uneasy feelings existing habitually in the breast, speedily exhibit
their signature on the countenance, and that
bitter thoughts, or a bad temper, spoil the hu.
man face divine of its grace.  But it is not so
generally known that irksome or painful sensations, though merely of a physical nature, by a
lawv equally certain, rob the temper of its sweetness, and, as a consequence, the countenance
of the more ethereal and better part of its beauty.
Pope attributes the rudeness of a person usually
bland and polished, to the circumstance, that
" he had not dined;" in other words, his stomach
was in bad order. But there are many other
physical pains besides hunger tbit sour the temper; and, ior our part, if we found ourselves
sitting at dinner with a man whose body was
girt on all sides by board and bone, like the
north pole by thick-ribbed i'e, we should no
208




CORSErS.
more expect to find grace, politeness, amenity,
vivacity, and good-humour, in such a companion,
than in Prometheus with a vulture battening on
his vitals, or in Cerberus, whose task is to grow
ail day long in his chains.
2            At0








RECIPES.
Paste of Palermo.
THis paste for the hands, to use instead of
soap, preserves them from chopping, smoothes
their surface, and renders them  soft.
Take a pound of soft soap, half a pint of salad
oil, the same quantity of spirits of wine, the
juice of three lemons, a little silver sand, and
a sufficient quantity of what perfume pleases the
sense.  The oil and soap must be first boiled
together in an earthen pipkin.  The other ingredients to be added after boiling; and, when
cool, amalgamate into a paste with the hands.
Fard.
This useful paste is good for taking off sunburnings, effects of weather on the face, and
~}1,




RECIPES,
accidental cutaneous eruptions. It 1: ust be ap.
p.ied at going to bed. First wash the face with
its usual ablution, and when dry, rub this fard
all over it, and go to rest with it on the skin.
This is excellent for almost constant use.  Take
two ounces of oil of sweet almonds, ditto of
spermaceti; melt them in a pipkin over a slow
fire. When they are dissolved and mixed, take
it off the fire, and stir into it one table-spoonful
of fine honey. Continue stirring it till it is cold,
and then it is fit for use.
Lip Salve.
A quarter of a pound of hard marrow  from
the marrow-bone. Melt it over a slow fire; as it
dissolves gradually, pour the liquid marrow into
an earthern pipkin; then add to it an ounce of
spermaceti, twenty raisins of the sun, stoned,
and a small portion of alcanna root, sufficient to
colour it to a bright vermilion. Simmer these
ingredients over a slow fire for ten minutes, then
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RECIPES.
strain the whole through muslin; and while hoL
stir into it one teaspoonful of the balsam of Peru.
Pour it into the boxes in which it is to remain,
it will there stiffen, and become fit for use.
Lavender Water.
Take of rectified spirits of wine half a pint,
essential oil of lavender two drachms, ottar of
roses five drops. Mix all together in a bottle,
and cork it for use.
Unction de Maintenon.
The use of this is to remove freckles. The
mode of application is this:-Wash the face aT
night with elder-flower water, then anoint it
with the unction. In the morning cleanse youi
skin from its oily adhesion, by washing it copiously in rose-water.
Take of Venice soap an ounce, dissolve it in
half an ounce of lemon-juice, to which add of
oil of bitter almonds and deliquidated oil of tar213




RECIPES.
tar, each a quarter of an ounce. Let the mixture be placed in the sun till it acquires the consistence of ointment. When in this state, add
three drops of the oil of rhodium, and keep it
for use.
Creme de 1'Enclos.
This is an excellent wash, to be used night
and morning for the removal of tan.
Take half a pint of milk, with the juice of a
lemon, and a spoonful of white brandy, boil the
whole, and skim it clear from all scum. When
cool, it is ready for use.
Pommade de Sevilleo
This simple application is much in request
with the Spanish ladies, for taking off the effects
of the sun, and to render the complexion brilliant.
Take equal parts of lemon-juice and white
of eggs. Beat the whole together in a varnished
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RECIPES.
earthen pipkin, and set on a slow fire. Stir the
fluid with a wooden spoon till it has acquired the
consistence of soft pomatum.  Perfume it with
some sweet essence, and before you apply.t,
carefully wash the face with rice water.
Beaume a l'Antique.
This is a very fine cure for chopped lips. Take
four ounces of the oil of roses, half an ounce of
white wax, and half an onnce of spermaceti,
melt them in a glass vessel, and stir them with
a wooden spoon; pour it out into glass caps for
use.
Wash for the Hair.
This is a cleanser and brightener of the head
and hair, and should be applied in the morning.
Beat up the whites of six eggs into a froth,
and with that anoint the head close to the roots
of the hair. Leave it to dry on; then wash the
head and hair thoroughly with a mixture of rumi
and rose-water in equal quantities.
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RECIPES
Aura and Cephalus.
This curious recipe is of Grecian origin, as its
name plainly indicates, and is said to have been
very efficacious in preventing, or even removing
premature wrinkles fiom the face of the Athenian
fair.
Put some powder of the best myrrh upon an
iron plate, sufficiently heated to melt the gum
gently, and when it liquifies, hold your face over
it, at a proper distance to receive the fumes without inconvenience; and that you may reap the
whole benefit of the fumigation, cover your head
with a napkin. It must be observed, however,
that if the applicant feels any headach, she must
desist, as the remedy will not suit her constitution,
and ill consequences might possibly ensue.
Madame Recamier's Pommade.
This was communicated by this lady as being
used in France and Italy, by those who profes.
sionally, or by choice, are engaged in exercises
216




RECIPES.
which require long and great exertions of the
limbs, as dancing, playing on instruments, &c.
Take any suitable quantity of Axungia Cervt
t. e. the fat of a red stag or hart; add to it thC
same quantity of olive oil, (Florence oil is preferable to any of the kind,) and half the quantity
of virgin wax; melt the whole in an earthen
vessel, well glazed, over a slow fire, and, when
properly'mixed, leave it to cool..-This ointment
has been applied also with considerable efficacy
in cases of rheumatism.
A Wash for the Face.
This recipe is well known in France, and much
extolled by the ladies of that country, as effica.
cious and harmless.
Take equal parts of the seeds of the melon
pompion, gourd, and cucumber, pounded and
reduced to powder or meal; add to it fresh cream
sufficient to dilute the flour; beat all up together,
adding a sufficient quantity of milk, as it may
2 c           21.7




RECIPES.
be required, to make an ointment, and then apply
it to the face; leave it there for half an hour,
and then wash it off with warm water.
A Paste for the Skin.
This may be recommended in cases when the
skin seems to get too loosely attached to the
muscles.
Boil the whites of four eggs in rose water,
add to it a sufficient quantity of alum; beat the
vhole together till it takes the consistence of a
paste. This will give, when applied, great firm.
ness to the skin.
A Wash to give lustre to the Face.
Infuse wheat bran well sifted, for three oi
four hours in white wine vinegar; add to it five
yolks of eggs and a grain or two of ambergris,
and distil the whole. When the bottle is carefully corked, keep it for twelve or fifteen days
before you make use of it.
218




RECIPES.
Pimpernel Water.
Pimpernel is a most wholesome plant, and
often used in European countries for the purpose of
whitening the complexion; it is there in so high
reputation, that it is said generally, that it ought
to be continually on the toilet of every lady who
cares for the brightness of her skin.
Eau de Veau.
Boil a calf's foot in four quarts of river water
till it is reduced to half the quantity, Add half
a pound of rice, and boil it with crum of white
bread steeped in milk, a pound of fresh butter
and the whites of five fresh eggs; mix with
them a small quantity of camphor and alum, and
distil the whole. This recipe may be strongly
recommended; it is most beneficial to the skin
which it lubricates and softens to a very comfort.
able degree. The best manner of distilling these
ingredients is in the balneum marie; that is, m
a bottle placed in boiling water.
219




RECIPES.
Rose Water.
Put some roses into water, add to them a few
drops of acid; the vitriolic acid seems to be
preferable to any-soon the water will assume
both the colour and perfume of the roses.
Another.
Take two pounds of rose leaves, place them
on a napkin tied round the edges of a basin
filled with hot water, and put a dish of cold water
upon the leaves; keep the bottom water hot, and
change the waiter at top as soon as it begins to
grow warm; by this kind of distillation you will
extract a great quantity of the essential oil of
the roses by a process which cannot be expensive,
and will prove very beneficial.
Virgin MIilk.
A publication of this kind would certainly be
rooked upon as an imperfect performance, if we
omitted to say a few words upon this famous
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RECIPES.
cosmetic. It consists of a tincture of benjcin,
precipitated by water. The tincture of benjoin
is obtained by taking a certain quantity of that
gum, pouring spirits of wine upon it, and boiling
it till it becomes a rich tincture. If you pour a
few drops of this tincture into a glass of water,
it will produce a mixture which will assume all
the appearance of milk, and retain a very agreeable perfume. If the face is washed with this
mixture, it will, by calling the purple stream of
the blood to the external fibres of the epidermis,
produce on the cheeks a beautiful rosy colour;
and, if left on the face to dry, it will render it
clear and brilliant. It also removes spots, freckles,
pimples, erysipelatous eruptions, &c. &c. if they
have not been of long standing on the skin.
Lavender Water.'rake four handfuls of dried lavender flowers,
and sprinkle on them one quart of brandy, the
same quantity of white wine and rose-wateri
221




RECIPES.
leave thenl to remain six days in a large bottle
well corked up; let the liquor be distilled and
poured off.
Sweet-scented Water.
This agreeably-scented water is not only a
pleasant cosmetic, but also of great use in nervous
disorders.
Put one quart of rose-water, and the same
quantity of orange-water, into a large and widemouthed glass; strew upon it two handfuls of
jessamine flowers, put the glass in the balneum
marice, or on a slow fire, and when it is distilled,
add to it a scruple of musk and the same quantity
of ambergris.
Eau d'Ange.
Pound in a mortar fifteen cloves and one
pound of cinnamon, and put the whole into a
quart of water, with four grains of anniseed;
et it stand over a charcoal fire twenty-four
22




RECIPES.
aours, then strain off the liquor, and put it up
for use.  This perfume is most excellent and
will do well for the hands, face, and hair, to
which it communicates a very agreeable scent.
Remedy for the Toothach.
In two drachms of rectified spirits of wine
dissolve one drachm of camphor, five grains of
Cprepared opium, and ten drops of oil of box; mix
them well, and keep it well corked for use. If
the pain arise from a hollow tooth, four or five
drops on cotton to be put into the tooth; or six
or seven drops to be put on cotton into the ear
on the side where the pain is felt.  Should the
patient not feel easier in a quarter of an hour,
the same may be repeated. It has never failed
on the second application.
An excellent Eye-water.
Take six ounces of rectified spirits of wine,
dissolve in it one drachmi  of camphor, and half
223




RECIPES.
a pint of eider-flower water. Wash the eyes,ight and morning with this liquid; it clears the
1lsion, and strengthens the sight.
Dentifrice.
The following is one of the best recipes for,ooth-powder:Take of prepared chalk six ounces, cassia
powdel;  half an ounce, orris-root, an ounce.
These are to be well mixed, and may be coloured
with red lake, or any other innocent substance,
according to the fancy of the user. This dentifrice
is to be used with a firm brush every morning;
the teeth should also be brushed before going to
bed, but it is seldom necessary to use the powder
more than once a day.
THE END.
224