Even the most humane man, whatever may be the kindness of his heart, would rather not exhibit himself on the floor with a partner ni jeune ni jolie, who is ill-drest, looks badly, moves ungracefully, can neither keep time to the music nor understand the figure, and in fact has “no dancing in her soul.” If, with all the rest, she is dull and stupid, it is cruel for any kind friend to inflict her on a gentleman as a partner. Yet such things we have seen.
On one occasion we threw away a great deal of good pity on a youth, whom we thought had been inveigled into quadrilling with a lady who made the worst figure we ever saw in a ball-room. We afterwards learned that he had actually solicited the introduction; and we saw that he devoted himself to her all the remainder of the evening. She was a rich heiress.
Self-knowledge is a rare acquirement. But when a lady does suspect herself to be deficient in all the essential qualifications of a ball-room, she should give up dancing entirely, and be magnanimous enough always to excuse herself positively, when asked to dance; especially if verging on “a certain age.” Let all “trippings on the light fantastic toe” be left to the young and gay.
A deformed woman dancing is “a sorry sight.” She should never consent to any such exhibition of her unhappy figure. She will only be asked out of mere compassion, or from some interested and unworthy motive. We are asked—“Why should not such a lady dance, if it gives her pleasure?” We answer—“It should not give her pleasure.”
When a lady is so unfortunate as to have a crooked or misshapen person, it is well for her to conceal it as much as possible, by wearing a shawl, a large cape, a mantilla, a long sacque, (not a polka jacket;) and on no account a tight-bodied pelisse; or still worse, a spencer—than which last, nothing is more trying to the form of the waist, except a riding-habit.
We saw Frederika Bremer at an evening assemblage, and she was so judiciously attired, that her personal defects did not prevent her from looking really well. Over a rich black satin dress, she wore a long loose sacque of black lace, lined with grey silk. From beneath the short sleeves of her sacque, came down long wide sleeves of white lace, confined with bracelets round her fair and delicate little hands. Her throat was covered closely with a handsome collar of French embroidered muslin, and her beautiful and becoming cap was of white lace, white flowers, and white satin ribbon—her light hair being simply parted on her broad and intellectual forehead. With her lively blue eyes, and the bright and pleasant expression of her countenance, no one seemed to notice the faults of her nose, mouth, and complexion—and those of her figure were so well concealed as to be scarcely apparent. And then her lady-like ease, and the total absence of all affectation, rendered her graceful and prepossessing. True it is, that with a good heart and a good mind no woman can be ugly; at least, they soon cease to be so considered, even if nature has been unkind to them in feature, figure, and complexion. An intelligent eye, and a good humoured mouth, are excellent substitutes for the want of regular beauty. Physiognomists say that the eye denotes the mind, and the mouth indicates the heart.
Now as a deformed lady may render herself very agreeable as a good conversationist, we repeat that she has no occasion to exhibit the defects of her person by treading the mazes of a cotillion, or above all, in going down a country dance, should those “never-ending, still beginning” performances come again into fashion. Young men say that an ugly, misshapen female, who waltzes, or joins in a polka, or redowa, or mazurka, deserves the penitentiary.
We deprecate the practice of keeping the small children of the family up all the evening, running and scampering in every one’s way, or sleeping about on the chairs and sofas, and crying when wakened up to be carried to bed. Would it not be much better to have them sent to bed at their usual time? We knew two well-trained little boys, who submitted obediently to go to bed at their customary hour, on the night of their mother’s party, of which they had seen nothing but the decorations of the parlours. They told their parents next morning, that still they had a great deal of pleasure, for after the carriages began to arrive, they had lain awake, and “heard every ring.”
At a large party, or at a wedding, there is generally a supper-table; lemonade and cakes having been sent round during the evening. The host and hostess should see that all the ladies are conducted thither, and that none are neglected, particularly those that are timid, and stand back. It is the business of the host to attend to those himself, or to send the waiters to them.
If the party is so large that all the ladies cannot go to the table at once, let the matrons be conducted thither first, and the young ladies afterwards. If there is a crowd, it is not unusual to have a cord (a handsome one, of course,) stretched across the door of the supper-room, and guarded by a servant, who explains that no more are to pass till after that cord is taken down. Meanwhile, the younger part of the company amuse themselves in the adjacent rooms. No lady should take the liberty of meddling with the flowers that ornament the table, or of secreting “good things” to carry home to her children.