Part 11 (2/2)

The force of prejudice appears in nothing more strongly than in the encomiums which have been lavished upon Lucretia for laying violent hands upon herself, and Virginius for killing his own daughter. These actions seem to derive all their glory from the revolutions to which they gave rise, as the former occasioned the abolition of monarchy amongst the Romans, and the latter put an end to the arbitrary power of the decemviri. But if we lay aside our prepossessions for antiquity, and examine these actions without prejudice, we cannot but acknowledge, that they are rather the effects of human weakness and obstinacy than of resolution and magnanimity. Lucretia, for fear of worldly censure, chose rather to submit to the lewd desires of Tarquin, than have it thought that she had been stabbed in the embraces of a slave; which sufficiently proves that all her boasted virtue was founded upon vanity, and too high a value for the opinion of mankind. The younger Pliny, with great reason, prefers to this famed action that of a woman of low birth, whose husband being seized with an incurable disorder, chose rather to perish with him than survive him. The action of Arria is likewise much more n.o.ble, whose husband Paetus, being condemned to death, plunged a dagger in her breast, and told him, with a dying voice, ”Paetus, it is not painful.” But the death of Lucretia gave rise to a revolution, and it therefore became ill.u.s.trious; though, as St. Augustine justly observes, it is only an instance of the weakness of a woman, too solicitous about the opinion of the world.

Virginius, in killing his daughter, to preserve her from falling a victim to the l.u.s.t of the decemvir Claudius, was guilty of the highest rashness; since he might certainly have gained the people, already irritated against the tyrant, without imbruing his hands in his own blood. This action may indeed be extenuated, as Virginius slew his daughter from a false principle of honor, and did it to preserve her from what both he and she thought worse than death; namely, to preserve her from violation; but though it may in some measure be excused, it should not certainly be praised or admired.

ON LOOKING AT THE PICTURE OF A BEAUTIFUL FEMALE.

What dazzling beauties strike my ravish'd eyes, And fill my soul with pleasure and surprise!

What blooming sweetness smiles upon that face!

How mild, yet how majestic every grace!

In those bright eyes what more than mimic fire Benignly s.h.i.+nes, and kindles gay desire!

Yet chasten'd modesty, fair white-robed dame, Triumphant sits to check the rising flame.

Sure nature made thee her peculiar care: Was ever form so exquisitely fair?

Yes, once there was a form thus heavenly bright, But now 'tis veil'd in everlasting night; Each glory which that lovely face could boast, And every charm, in traceless dust is lost; An unregarded heap of ruin lies That form which lately drew ten thousand eyes.

What once was courted, lov'd, adored, and prais'd, Now mingles with the dust from whence 'twas raised.

No more soft dimpling smiles those cheeks adorn, Whose rosy tincture sham'd the rising morn; No more with sparkling radiance s.h.i.+ne those eyes, Nor over those the sable arches rise; Nor from those ruby lips soft accents flow, Nor lilies on the snowy forehead blow; All, all are cropp'd by death's impartial hand, Charms could not bribe, nor beauty's power withstand; Not all that crowd of wondrous charms could save Their fair possessor from the dreary grave.

How frail is beauty, transient, false and vain!

It flies with morn, and ne'er returns again.

Death, cruel ravager, delights to prey Upon the young, the lovely and the gay.

If death appear not, oft corroding pain, With pining sickness in her languid train, Blights youth's gay spring with some untimely blast, And lays the blooming field of beauty waste; But should these spare, still time creeps on apace, And plucks with wither'd hand each winning grace; The eyes, lips, cheeks, and bosom he disarms, No art from him can s.h.i.+eld exterior charms.

But would you, fair ones, be esteem'd, approved, And with an everlasting ardor loved; Would you in wrinkled age, admirers find, In every female virtue dress the mind; Adorn the heart, and teach the soul to charm, And when the eyes no more the breast can warm, These ever-blooming beauties shall inspire Each gen'rous heart with friends.h.i.+p's sacred fire; These charms shall neither wither, fade, nor fly; Pain, sickness, time, and death, they dare defy.

When the pale tyrant's hand shall seal your doom, And lock your ashes in the silent tomb, These beauties shall in double l.u.s.tre rise, s.h.i.+ne round the soul, and waft it to the skies.

ART OF DETERMINING THE PRECISE FIGURE, THE DEGREE OF BEAUTY, THE HABITS, AND THE AGE, OF WOMEN,

NOTWITHSTANDING THE AIDS AND DISGUISES OF DRESS.

OF FIGURE.

External indications as to figure are required chiefly as to the limbs which are concealed by drapery. Such indications are afforded by the walk, to every careful observer.

In considering _the proportion of the limbs to the body_--if, even in a young woman, the walk, though otherwise good, be heavy, or the fall on each foot alternately be sudden, and rather upon the heel, the limbs though well formed, will be found to be slender, compared with the body.

This conformation accompanies any great proportional developement of the vital system; and it is frequently observable in the woman of the Saxon population of England, as in the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, &c.

In women of this conformation, moreover, the slightest indisposition or debility is indicated by a slight vibration of the shoulders, and upper part of the chest, at every step, in walking.

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