Learn to LOVE and to pray...

"Picture her to yourself, and 

ere you be old, learn to LOVE and to PRAY!"

~William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair

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an excellent cautionary tale that beauty is fleeting ~ published 1755

Dorinda at her Glass

by Mrs. Leapor

DORINDA, once the fairest of the train, 
 Toast of the town, and triumph of the plain; 
Whose shining eyes a thousand hearts alarm'd, 
Whose wit inspired, and whose follies charm'd: 
Who, with invention, rack'd her careful breast 
To find new graces to insult the rest, 
Now sees her temples take a swarthy hue, And the dark veins resign their beauteous blue; 

While on her cheeks the fading roses die, 

And the last sparkles tremble in her eye. 

Bright Sol had drove the fable clouds away, 

And chear'd the heavens with a stream of day, 

The woodland choir their little throats prepare,

To chant new carols to the morning air:

In silence wrapp'd, and curtain'd from the day,

On her fad pillow lost Dorinda lay;

To mirth a stranger, and the like to ease,

No pleasures charm her, nor no slumbers 

please.

For if to close her weary lids she tries,

Detested wrinkles swim before her eyes;At length the mourner rais'd her aking head,

And discontented left her hated bed.

But sighing shun'd the relicks of her pride,

And left the toilet for the chimney side:

Her careless locks upon her shoulders lay

Uncurl'd, alas! because they half were gray;

No magick baths employ her skilful hand,

But useless phials on her table stand:

She flights her form, no more by youth inspir'd,

And loaths that idol which she once admir'd.

At length all trembling, of herself afraid,

To her lov'd glass repair'd the weeping maid,

And with a sigh address'd the alter'd shade.

Say, what art thou, that wear'st a gloomy form,

 With low'ring forehead, like a northern storm;

 Cheeks pale and hollow, as the face of woe, 

And lips that with no gay vermilion glow?

 Where is that form which this false mirror told

 Bloom'd like the morn, and shou'd for ages hold; 

But now a spectre in its room appears,

 All scar'd with furrows, and defac'd with tears;

 Say, com'st thou from the regions of despair,

 T0 shake my senses with a meagre stare 

 Some straggling horror may thy phantom be, 

But surely not the mimick shape of me. 

Ah! yes~~~ the shade its mourning visage rears,

Pants when I sigh, and answers to my tears: 

Now who shall bow before this wither'd shrine, 

This mortal image that was late divine? 

What victim now will praise these faded eyes, 

          Once the gay basis for a thousand lyes? 

Deceitful beauty~~~ false as thou art gay,

And is it thus thy vot'ries find their pay; This the reward of many careful years, 

Of morning labours, and of noon-day sears, 

The gloves anointed, and the bathing hour, 

And soft cosmetick's more prevailing pow'r? 

Yet to thy worship still the fair-ones run, 

And hail thy temples with the rising sun; 

Still the brown damsels to thy altars pay 

Sweet-scented unguents, and the dews of May; 

Sempronia smooths her wrinkled brows with care, 

And Isabella curls her gristed hair: 

See poor Augusta of her glass afraid, 

Who even trembles at the name of maid, 

Spreads the fine Mechlin on her shaking head, 

While her thin cheeks disown the mimick red. 

Soft Sylvia, who no lover's breast alarms, 

Yet simpers out the ev'ning of her charms, 

And though her cheek can boast no rosy dye, 

Her gay brocades allure the gazing eye. 

But hear, my sisters, hear an ancient maid,

Too long by folly, and her arts betray'd;

 From these light trifles turn your partial eyes, 

 'Tis fad Dorinda prays you to be wise; 

And thou, Celinda,'thou must shortly feel 

The sad effect of time's revolving wheel; 

Thy spring is past, thy summer fun declin'd, 

See autumn next, and winter stalks behind: 

But let not reason with thy beauties fly, 

Nor place thy merit in a brilliant eye; 

'Tis thine to charm us by sublimer ways, 

And make thy temper, like thy seatures, please: 

And thou, Sempronia, trudge to morning pray'r, 

Nor trim thy eye-brows with so nice a care; 

Dear nymph, believe 'tis true, as you're alive,

 Those temples stew the marks of fifty-five. 

 Let Isabel unload her aking head 

Of twisted papers, and of binding lead; 

Let sage Augusta now, without a frown, 

 Strip those gay ribbands from her aged crown; 

Changed the lac'd flipper of delicious hue 

For a warm stocking, and an easy shoe; 

Guard her swell'd ancles from rheumatick pain, 

And from her cheek expunge the guilty stain. 

  Wou'd smiling Sylvia lay that hoop aside, 

'Twou'd shew her prudence, not betray her pride: 

She, like the rest, had once her flagrant day, 

But now she twinkles in a fainter ray. Those youthful airs set off their mistress now, 

Just as the patch adorns her autumn brow: 

In vain her feet in sparkling laces glow, 

Since none regard her forehead, nor her toe. 

Who would not burst with laughter, or with spleen, At Pruda, once a beauty, as I ween? 

But now her features wear a dusky hue, 

The little loves have bid her eyes adieu: 

Yet she pursues the pleasures of her prime, 

And vain desires, still unsubdu'd by time; 

Thrusts in among the frolick and the gay, 

But shuts her daughter from the beams of day:  

The child, she says, is indolent and grave, 

And tells the world Ophelia can't behave: 

But while Ophelia is forbid the room, 

Her mother hobbles in a rigadoon; 

Or to the found of melting musick dies, 

And in their sockets rolls her blinking eyes; 

Or stuns the audience with her hideous squall, 

While scorn and satire whisper through the hall. 

image source~ wiki commons

  Hear this, ye fair ones, that survive your charms, 

Nor reach at folly with your aged arms; 

Thus Pope has sung, thus let Dorinda sing; 

"Virtue, brave boys, 'tis virtue makes a king."

Why not a queen ? fair virtue is the fame 

In the rough hero, and the smiling dame: 

Dorinda's soul her beauties shall pursue, 

Though late I see her, and embrace her too: 

Come, ye blest graces, that are sure to please, 

The smile of friendship, and the careless ease; 

The breast of candour, the relenting ear, 

The hand of bounty, and the heart sincere: 

May these the twilight of my days attend, 

And may that ev'ning never want a friend, 

 To smooth my passage to the silent gloom, 

And give a tear to grace the mournful tomb. 

Dancing~ for Young Ladies~~~!

"Young Lady's Book", ~1829

a review of the book, " Exercises for Ladies; Calculated to Preserve and Improve Beauty", by Donald Walker, 1836

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A CHARMING little book, to help ladies to walk upright in their ways. We are perfectly certain that without this book there is not a woman in the country who knows how either to stand, sit, walk, lie, or get up: and how they have managed to perform these operations for so many years, is to us unaccountable ;— no wonder so many false steps have been made; no wonder some have had a fall, and others slipped away, and others lost their equilibrium. Nature teaches nothing but to turn in your toes, and stare with your mouth wide open; and to keep your hands in your pockets. Most people are conceited enough to think they can stand. Presumptuous and absurd! The thing is utterly impossible, without Mr. Walker's assistance. Certainly, they may have the distant appearance of something like standing; or rather, they may not be sitting, or lying, or kneeling: but, really and absolutely to stand is a work many excellent persons have attempted, hut not one in a hundred succeeded in accomplishing. The fool says in his heart, 'to stand, is to be on my legs;' but the wise man thus interprets that noble and difficult action:

 "The equal squareness of the shoulders and body, to the front, is the first and great principle of position. The. heels must be in a line and olosed; the knees straight; the toes turned out, with the feet forming an angle of sixty degrees. [There, you blockhead! did you know that ?] The arms hanging close to the body; the elbows turned in, and close to the sides; the hands open to the front, with the view of preserving the elbow in the position above directed. The little fingers lightly touching the clothing of the limbs, with the thumb close to the forefingers. The stomach rather drawn in, and the breast advanced, but without constraint; the body upright, but inclining forward, so that the weight of it may principally bear on the fore-part of the feet; the head erect, and the eyes straight to the front. The whole figure must be in such a position, that the ear, shoulder, haunch, knee, and ankle are all in a line.  If females find this standing position very fatiguing, it may be modified."

"History of Dancing"' ~ 1848

Were we to follow the guidance of our own feelings, we should transcribe great part of this work, which has been introduced into our publisher's family with great success. But we have made ourselves so far masters of it, that the moment we go into a room, we can tell whether the young ladies of the family are Mr. Walker's pupils or not; just as a celebrated oculist of the present day can tell in an instant, in the most crowded assembly, an eye that he has brushed, from its extraordinary brilliancy. Lest any ladies in the country should not be able to avail themselves immediately of this work, we shall, for their sakes, transcribe a few short leading hints, which may, perhaps, prevent them exposing themselves: 

~Ladies should not lift the feet high from the ground, or stamp noisily, or toss their feet; hut if their busts are long, they may lift their feet a little higher.

~ Short ladies may hold their arms a little higher than tall ones. 

~Ladies, of course, hold their dresses with the tips of their fingers. 

~For those ladies who are round-shouldered, it is advised to walk every day for an hour with a square book on their heads: this will make them like the Women on the Nile. 

"Analysis of Country Dancing"' ~ 1822

~In dancing, the face must be occasionally turned to the right and left, both for convenience and because much elegance and grace may be produced by its judicious direction; the look should be on the partner, without appearing scrupulously to follow him. 

~The countenance should be animated, and expressive of cheerfulness or gaiety, and an agreeable smile should ever play about the mouth.

~ Ladies must dance in a style different from gentlemen: they must delight by pretty terre-a-terre steps, and by a moderate and gentle abandon.

~ If the features of a lady breathe gaiety; if her shape be pretty ; her dancing may be more animated, and she need not be afraid of using a style almost brilliant—sissones, battues, pas d'ete &c. 

~With the last piece of advice we cordially agree: 'That every lady should desist from dancing as soon as she feels over-heated. For perspiration renders the most beautiful dancer an object of ridicule or pity !'—We must also caution those 'angels of the earth' not to indulge too much in the waltz; for it causes vertigo, syncope, spasm, and other accidents, in ladies of an irritable constitution.

~We now feel we have done our duty to the fair sex; but, in conclusion, we must remark, that, beautiful as are the positions of a well-educated body, they are still defective unless accompanied or guided by a naturally benevolent and graceful mind. We shall therefore borrow Mr. Walker's words on this subject; and we must say that at the last Ipswich Ball (a ball unrivalled for its display of beauty and rank), we perceived many beautiful pupils of this gentleman, putting his lessons into practice.

"History of Dancing"' ~ 1848

"If a lady is merely invited to a ball, her duties are less peremptory, and less numerous, but not on that account less indispensable. She is bound to receive, with a smiling and modest mien, all partners, whatever their age or rank. She addresses a few words with politeness to her neighbours, even though unknown to her ? If they dance much, she compliments them on their success; and if, on the contrary, they are left alone, she does not seem to perceive it; and especially if she has been more fortunate, she is careful not to speak of the fatigue, or to evince an insulting compassion. And, if she can, she contributes to procure them partners, without their in any way suspecting her of the performance of such an office."

After perusing these and other monitory dicta of the same kind, we feel that Mr. Walker has a right to say of himself,

Vixi puellis nuper idoneus.

translation~ recently I led a life congenial to girls

article source: The Gentleman's Magazine, 1837

"Young Lady's Book"' ~ 1829

Wash a la Marie Antoinette~!

~whether this was an actual recipe used by Marie Antoinette or inspired by her delicate complexion, I don't know. I will update if I find out! 

"Marie Antoinette with Rose" ~ Elisabeth Vigee- Lebrun

Take half a dozen lemons and cut them in small slices, a small handful of the leaves of white lilies, and southernwood, and infuse them in two quarts of cow's milk, with an ounce and a half of white sugar, and an ounce of rock-alum. These are directed to be distilled in balneum mariae. The face, at bed-times, is to be rubbed with this water; and it is said that it gives a beautiful lustre to the complexion. It is a safe application, and its effects are certain.                                 

                                   

                           

balneum mariae

recipe source!

gypsy

"A Gypsy Girl", George Elgar Hicks, 1899

The gypsy eyes have something quite special about them — a thrill and flicker of fire somewhere in their depths that has the power of making all other dark eyes seem tame and insipid, mere patches of color. A Hungarian youth once said to me as he distractedly struck his forehead — and I sympathized with his emotion — "The eyes of the gypsy women! ah! they drive you mad." 1

The Spanish Gypsies are remarkable for beauty in early youth; for magnificent eyes and hair, regular features, light and well-knit figures. Their locks, like the Hindus, are lamp black, and without a sign of wave , and they preserve the characteristic eye. I have often remarked its fixity and brilliance, which flashes like phosphoric light, the gleam which in some eyes denotes madness. I have also noticed the 'far-off look ' which seems to gaze at something beyond you and the alternation from the fixed stare to a glazing or filming of the pupil. " 2

"Gypsy Girl with Mandolin", Jean-Baptiste-
Camille Corot,  1870

I turned round. A Gypsy girl, dressed in fine Gypsy costume, very dark but very handsome, was sitting on a settle drinking from a pot of ale, and nursing an instrument of the violin kind, which she was fondling as though it were a baby. She was quite young, not above eighteen years of age, slender, graceful —remarkably so, even for a Gypsy girl. Her hair, plaited in the old-fashioned Gypsy way, in little plaits that looked almost as close as plaited straw, and as it was of an unusually soft and fine texture for a Gypsy, the plaits gave it a lustre quite unlike that which unguents can give. As she sat there, one leg thrown over the other, displaying a foot which, even in the heavy nailed boots, would have put to shame the finest foot of the finest English lady I have ever seen, I could discern that she was powerful and tall; her bosom, gently rising and falling beneath the layers of scarlet and yellow and blue handkerchiefs, which filled up the space the loose-fitting gown of bright merino left open, was of a breadth fully worthy of her height. A silk handkerchief of deep blood-red colour was bound round her head, not in the modern Gypsy fashion, but more like an Oriental turban. From each ear was suspended a massive ring of red gold. Round her beautiful, towering, tanned neck was a thrice-twisted necklace of half-sovereigns and amber and red coral. She looked me full in the face. Then came a something in the girl's eyes the like of which I had seen in no other Gypsy's eyes, though I had known well the Gypsies who used to camp near Rington Manor, not far from Raxton, for my kinsman, Percy Aylwin, the poet, had lately fallen in love with Winnie's early friend, Rhona Boswell. It was not exactly an 'uncanny' expression, yet it suggested a world quite other than this. It was an expression such as one might expect to see in a 'budding spae-wife,' or in a Roman Sibyl. And whose expression was it that it now reminded me of? But the remarkable thing was that this expression was intermittent; it came and went like the shadows the fleeting clouds cast along the sunlit grass. Then it was followed by a look of steady self-reliance and daring. 3

image source: nights...days...

There is something very winning about the Gypsy smile. It is so natural and spontaneous. It never palls. Still more fascinating, more hypnotic is the glance. The kodak cannot capture it; and no painter has quite succeeded in reproducing its likeness. It is an intense, absorbing stare that holds one in a spell...



...IMAGINE yourselves in a square cave hollowed from the rock. A little Spanish Gypsy girl is dancing an abulea to the accompaniment of a wild song and the vibrant notes of a guitar. Other Gypsies sitting tensely on the rims of their chairs, in a half circle about the dancer, are beating time with vigorous handclaps, and shouting, " Alsa!  Alsa !" in tones that make the stone vault re-echo. Dancer and audience are as one, in a frenzy of excitement. The tiny feet stamp the rough floor; the gaily colored skirt flutters as she springs. Her elastic body bends and sways. There is something of the snake and something of the bird, in the writhing arms and quivering fingers. There is a glitter in her eye, whether she strikes her bosom in mock rage, or leaps with head thrown back and lips parted in a paroxysm of joy. And an answering sparkle illumines the eye of every Gypsy. 4

gypsy dance, image source: wiki

The Gypsy women and girls were the principal attractions to these visitors; wild and singular as these females are in their appearance, there can be no doubt, for the fact has been frequently proved, that they are capable of exciting passion of the most ardent description, particularly in the bosoms of those who are not of their race, which passion of course becomes the more violent when the almost utter impossibility of gratifying it is known. No females in the world can be more licentious in word and, gesture, in dance and in song, than the Gitanas; but there they stop: and so of old, if their titled visitors presumed to seek for more, an unsheathed dagger or gleaming knife speedily repulsed those who expected that the gem most dear amongst the sect of the Roma was within the reach of a Busno. 5




Turn with us then, so please you, to the south of sunny France; it is the vineyard season, and the racy grapes, bloated with over ripeness, are being gathered. A gay time this among the French peasantry, and these gipseys know it well, for see, in this little post town, it is nightfall, and the laborers of botn sexes, each with a richly loaded basket of the generous product of the vine, are coming in from the neighboring fields. Here before the small post house and tavern on the little green, the laborers pause to witness the dance of the gipsey tribe. While the rest throw themselves lazily upon the greensward, forming a wild and picturesque group, to whose countenances the twilight and reflections of the western sky lent additional interest, by clothing them in strangely vivid hues, two of the gipsey tribe, a male and female, commenced the dance together upon the greensward.

image source: nights, days...

The girl coupled her light and graceful movements with the notes of the merry castanets, while the young man accompanied her upon the gay ringing tambourine. The girl might have been sixteen years of age, and her companion perhaps a couple of years her senior, both evincing the healthful vigor that the gipsey's life, so near to nature, is sure to induce. The fostered and delicate child of wealth could only envy such charms as the gipsey girl exhibited, she could not possess them. Art may imitate, but it cannot equal nature. Minuitti, the danseuse of the gipsey tribe, was a queen in beauty, and many a queen would have envied her.


What brilliancy in those eyes of black, and how round and beautiful the outline of that form and face. How thrillingly lovely the expression of her speaking countenance, how graceful her light and airy step. The dance over, she advances to the crowd, who have stood mute and entranced with the scene, and holding the tambourine taken from her companion, solicits in eloquent silence a few francs in payment for the exhibition. And stay, even the crabbed old post keeper thrusts his hand into his pocket. It must be enchantment that can move him. The gipsey danseuse has all the ruddy complexion that her exposed life induces, but still there is a delicacy in her skin, a native refinement in her manner, that seem to announce ber as being above the rude companions who surround her. Her dress resembles the Castilian style, and her companion wears the costume of a Spanish mountaineer. Had fate ever placed two beings more appropriately together? Each seemed the counterpart of the other, and grace and beauty the share of both. 6

image source: nights, days...

The Gypsies are nearer to the animals than any race known to us in Europe. They have the lawlessness, the abandonment, the natural physical grace in form and gesture, of animals; only a stealthy and wary something in their eyes makes them human. Their speech, which is their own, known to them, known to few outside them, keeps them to themselves. They are ignorant of the ugly modern words, the words which we have brought in to sophisticate language. 'Give me half and you take half': divide, that is, in our shorthand. Their lilting voices are unacquainted with anything but the essential parts of speech, all that we need use if we lived in the open air, and put machines out of our hands and minds.

image source: "In Gipsey Tents", 

Then, they are part of the spectacle of the world, which they pass through like a great procession, to the sound of a passionate and mysterious music. They are here to-day and there to-morrow; you cannot follow them, for all the leafy tracks that they leave for each other on the ground. They are distinguishable from the people of every land which they inhabit; there is something in them finer, stranger, more primitive, something baffling to all who do not understand them through a natural sympathy. The sullen mystery of Gypsy eyes, especially in the women, their way of coiling their hair, of adorning themselves with bright colours and many rings and long earrings, are to be found wherever one travels, east or west. Yet it is eastward that one must go to find their least touched beauty, their original splendour. It was in the market-place in Belgrade that I saw the beauty of the Gypsies in its most exact form. Here, taken from the book in which I recorded it, is my instant impression of it: 'I had seen one old woman, an animal worn to subtlety, with the cunning of her race in all her wrinkles, trudging through the streets with a kind of hostile gravity. But here it was the children who fascinated me. There were three little girls, with exactly the skin of Hindus, and exactly the same delicately shaped face, and lustrous eyes, and long dark eyelashes; and they followed me through the market, begging in strange tongues—little catlike creatures, full of humour, vivacity, and bright instinctive intelligence. As we came to one end of the market, they ran up to a young girl of about fifteen, who stood leaning against a pump. She was slender, with a thin, perfectly shaped face, the nose rather arched, the eyes large, black, lustrous, under her black eyebrows; thick masses of black hair ran across her forehead, under the scarlet kerchief. She leaned there, haughty, magnetic, indifferent; a swift animal, like a strung bow, bringing all the East with her, and a shy wildness which is the Gypsy's only.' 7

image source: Harper's Magazine, 1882

Gypsy Caravan, image source: wiki

1~  Russia, Austria-Hungary, the Balkan States, and Turkey, by Eva March Tappan, publication date unknown

2~  The life of Sir Richard Burton, Volume 2 by Thomas Wright, 1906

3~  Aylwin, By Otto Jahn, 1906

4~ NIGHTS AND DAYS ON THE GYPSY TRAIL by Irving Henry Brown, 1922 

5~ THE ZINCALI, OR AN ACCOUNT OF THE GYPSIES OF SPAIN, by George Henry Borrow, 1841

6~ Ballou's Dollar Monthly Magazine, 1855

7~ Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society, Volume 1, 1907-1908