At the period for which these hints are intended, the Modern Languages should form a portion of acquirement. As in music, an intelligent and a.s.siduous girl may, I believe, acquire an adequate degree of proficiency in French, German, and Italian, without having been abroad, though a foreign tour will be of the greatest use in the acquisition of the accent and niceties of each tongue. With respect to French, it is no doubt essential to comfort to understand it; it is one of the attributes of a lady to speak it well; still, it is not indispensable to speak it so well that the American lady is mistaken for a Parisian. This, which but seldom happens, can only be acquired, in most cases, by a residence abroad. But French is thoroughly and grammatically taught in America. It is only the habit of speaking, the idioms and niceties, which cannot be acquired except by converse with a native.

There are hundreds of competent instructors in this country, French ladies and gentlemen amongst the number, who form cla.s.ses for conversation and familiarizing their pupils with these very idioms.

After availing herself of such advantages, a young lady will find that a very short residence abroad will improve and facilitate her French conversation.

Much, however, will depend upon how you use the opportunities within your reach. There are many opportunities of practice in large towns; and foreigners give all facilities, by their readiness to converse, their good-nature in listening, and in helping the beginner by kind hints. If a young lady, with simplicity, good breeding, and good taste, endeavors to speak whenever she has an opportunity, words will come as if by intuition. Do not think of by-standers and lookers-on; think only of the individual to whom you are addressing yourself. If possible, be not abashed by one or two errors at the first plunge--swim on till you have confidence. The effort, I grant, is great, and it may be obviated by a foreign education; but where this is impossible, the freedom acquired will more than repay the exertion.

In foreign literature, walk carefully, and if you have an older, wiser head than your own to point out the best paths, improve the advantage.

One cannot help deeming it a great era in education that German is cultivated as well as Italian and French, and that stores of literature are opened, to vary the delights of intellect, and to give freshness and interest to the studies of youth.

The rapture with which the works of Schiller are perused in the original, seems to repay the hours devoted to German; and I am sure the perusal of Ta.s.so, or of the Aristodemo of Monti, would reward the study of Italian, were not the acquisition of that exquisite language of itself a source of poetic pleasure.

The modern French writers have increased an everlasting responsibility in corrupting the sources of amus.e.m.e.nt, open to the young readers, and it is remarkable that most of the distinguished French authors seem to have felt that they had erred, and to have retrieved in some of their works the tendencies of their other productions. Take for instance, Madame de Stael; her books cannot be judged altogether; the effect of some of her eloquent and almost incomparable writings varies in an extraordinary degree. Whilst "Delphine" is unfit for the perusal of a modest woman, her "L'Allemagne" is finely written throughout, and her criticisms and a.n.a.lyses of German writers are full of instruction as well as interest.

Still the works open to readers of French are numerous. The tragedies of Corneille and Racine are forcible and finished, and should be read because cla.s.sical. The "Alzire" of Voltaire and his "Zaire" with the dramas of Casimir de la Vigne are also worthy of perusal. It is not an inspiriting kind of reading, but it is rich in sentiment, and perfectly unexceptionable in moral tone.

Although the scepticism of most German writers renders this literature dangerous to a young mind, there are fields of pure, n.o.ble writing open in that language. The works of Schiller, for example. His mind was originally n.o.ble, his heart good, his love to mankind, and his enquiry after truth were sincere. In early life, he wavered; and the besetting scepticism of the Germans dimmed, for a time, his perceptions of all that is most sublime, as well as true, in our finite knowledge. He was chastened--he suffered--he believed. He died an early but a bright instance that great genius may exist with true and humble piety, and that the mind is never so powerful as when illumined by divine light.

His works are a magnificent library in themselves--and I could almost say, be contented to learn German and to read Schiller. Some of his works are open to objection, his "Bride of Messina," portions of "The Robbers," are better omitted from your collection, but "Wallenstein" and "Maria Stuart" are n.o.ble and admirable productions. On this subject, and, indeed, on the whole of German literature, Madame de Stael is an excellent guide in her "L'Allemagne," to which I refer the young German student, who is sincerely desirous of gleaning the good, and avoiding the evil in German compositions.

Italian literature furnishes a delightful theme for comment. It is singular that an enslaved, and, during many ages, a depraved and degraded people, should have possessed the purest poetry, the least exceptionable drama, in Europe. There is little to exclude, and much to recommend, in this beautiful language. The works of Ta.s.so abound with high sentiment; the "Inferno" of Dante is a sublime picture of eternal retribution, softened with most touching pictures of human woe. Happy are those who have leisure to pursue extensively the acquisition of Italian literature, they may read and commit to memory without fear of an insidious meaning beneath the polished verse, or the prose which has all the charm of poetry.

Spanish literature will require the same judicious pruning which is necessary in French and German, but of all languages, it is the most musical for speech, and singing.

A lady in society must, if she would not grow utterly weary in company, know how to dance. It has been the practice among many excellent people to represent the ball room as a "pitfall covered with flowers;" a sheet of breaking ice; above, all gayety and motion; below, all darkness and danger. It may be that to some minds the ball room may be replete with temptations; but there are minds which find temptations everywhere. The innocent may be innocent, nay, the pious may feel devout, even in a ball room. There is nothing immoral or wrong in dancing; it is the tendency of youth to dance--it is the first effort of a child--the first natural recreation. It seems so natural that I confess I am always doubtful of the sincerity of those young ladies who profess to dislike the ball room.

In the present day, you must understand how to move gracefully through quadrilles, to dance polka, Schottische, Varsovienne, and waltz. To these you may add great variety of dances, each season, probably, bringing a new one.

"Dancing," says Mr. Sheldrake, "is one of the most healthy, as well as one of the most pleasing amus.e.m.e.nts that can be practised by the young.

If it is learned from those who are well qualified to teach it, and practised, as it ought to be, consistently with the instructions given, it will contribute more to improve the health, as well as the form of the human frame, than any other exercise. For the discovery and promulgation of the true and correct principles according to which dancing should be taught, the world is indebted to France, a country which has long taken the lead in the elegant arts. In France, dancing was first raised to the dignity of a science, a royal academy being founded for the purpose of teaching and perfecting it, in the reign of Louis Quatorze. In this academy were trained many of the most distinguished dancers of both s.e.xes." One of the most celebrated, Madame Simonet, gave the following account to Mr. Sheldrake of the mode of instruction pursued in the academy:--"All the pupils, before they were permitted to attempt to dance, were completely instructed in what were called the _preparatory exercises_; that is, a system of exercises, which endued all their limbs with strength, firmness, elasticity, and activity; when they had acquired these properties, they began to dance.

"In these preparatory exercises, the motions were of the most simple kind, the object being to teach the pupil, gradually and separately, all those movements which, when combined, and rapidly executed, const.i.tute dancing." Madame Simonet thus described those elementary instructions, as gone through by herself:--"She successively learned to stand flat and firm upon both her feet, with her limbs quite straight, and the whole person perfectly upright, but not stiff; then to lift one foot from the ground, and to keep it so for some time without moving any part of her body; she then replaced that foot on the ground, and raised the other in the same manner. These simple actions were repeated till the pupils were quite familiar with them; they were then directed to keep the body quite erect, but not stiff, and bearing firmly upon one leg, to raise the other from the ground, gradually and slowly, by bending the upper joint of the limb, at the same time making the knee straight, and putting the toe to its proper extent, but _no more_. The foot, after it had been kept in this state for some time, was returned to the ground from whence it was taken, and the other foot treated in the same manner; when quite familiarized to these actions, they were directed to walk (march, as some people will call it) slowly, performing the same motions with the feet alternately." The exercises which followed these, were upon the turning out of the feet, the balancing of the body, and other att.i.tudes, which need not be particularized.

Mr. Sheldrake gives several examples of persons trained upon these initiatory principles to the profession of dancing, who have lived in health to a great age. "This," says he, "is not the chance lot of a few; for I have, through life, been accustomed to see many persons of the same profession; I have communicated my own observations to many others, and all have agreed in remarking, that those who follow this profession have, very generally, excellent health, which very many of them carry into extreme old age. This indisputable fact can only be accounted for by supposing that the preparatory exercises which these persons go through, are a modification of what I have called regulated muscular tension, or action, and the early and constant practice of which lays a firm foundation for that high health which accompanies them through life. It is upon the same principle that a soldier is never seen with spinal curvature, or other personal deformity, or a stage dancer of either s.e.x with a deformed person; it is, perhaps, impossible that such things should exist, for the plain reason, that the exercises which they begin to practice early in life, and continue regularly through its whole course, render it impossible for them to become so.

"The inference to be drawn from these incontrovertible facts is, that if we, in very early life, teach young children to practice similar exercises, and follow them steadily afterwards, we shall confirm them in excellent health, and prevent the accession of those evils which so often cause deformity to the figure, and destruction to the const.i.tution, at later periods of life. I do not propose to make every boy a soldier, or every girl a dancer upon the stage, but to adopt the principles, by the application of which those persons are trained to the successful practices of their several occupations, and so to modify them, that they may qualify other cla.s.ses of society to follow _their_ different pursuits with equal success; and I am not without hopes that this undertaking will contribute something towards producing this desirable effect."

Dancing is an exercise which has been practiced by mankind from the most remote ages. With the Egyptians, a.s.syrians, and Persians, the founders of the three great empires of the ancient world, dancing was the favorite exercise or accomplishment, and the practice was not less prevalent among their successors in power and importance, the Greeks and Romans. The Jews, also, we learn from Scripture, were strongly attached to the exercise at all periods of their history.

At the present day, almost every people that exist, whether barbarous or civilized, has its own form of dancing. It is this universality of the exercise that makes dancing a subject of importance. Being so extensively practiced, it must be the instrument either of good or evil to the human race.

It is one of the most healthful and elegant amus.e.m.e.nts, and cannot be too highly recommended. Among a rude and dissolute people it may degenerate into something worthy of condemnation; but all the blessings we have are similarly liable to abuse, and it would be most unjust to condemn a cheerful domestic amus.e.m.e.nt, merely because it has, at times, been degraded by people of low, vulgar, immoral tastes. By all physicians, dancing, when pursued in moderation, is recommended as highly conducive to bodily health; and it may be truly said, that, allied with music, nothing is more conducive to _mental_ health, more calculated to drive away melancholy, and put the whole temper into good humor.

Dancing is the poetry of motion. It must be performed with ease and grace, and always with a perfect regard for propriety of movement.

As an art it is taught by professed masters; and one of the leading rules given to the learner is to raise and lower herself gracefully on the elastic part of her feet, and to keep perfect time to the music.

Dancing is really a simple and elegant gliding on the toes, which bend more or less to accommodate the steps, and prevent harsh, ungraceful motion.

The most popular dances of the present day, are, first, the quadrille.

These are of French origin, comparatively tranquil in their character, and generally danced once or more in every party. They are danced by four couples, one standing on each side of a square. There are many sets of quadrilles, the figures in each varying from the others. But there are five figures in each set. The plain, fancy, Lancers, Polka, Mazourka, and German, are among the most popular.

In plain quadrilles, a lady takes no steps, merely walking gracefully through the figures, but her feet must keep perfect time to the music, and she must know the changes of position perfectly.

A quadrille may be very properly described as a conversation dance, as there are long pauses between the figures, when the dancers must have a fund of small talk ready for their partners.

When moving in the figures, hold out your skirt a little with the right hand, merely to clear the ground, and prevent the possibility of treading upon it.

Next come the round dances, the _Valse_, Polka, Schottische, Varsovienne, and Redowa.

The Waltz is danced both _a troistemps_ and _deuxtemps_. In the waltz, the position is a most important point. You may so lean upon your partner's arm, and so carry your figure, that the prudish can find but little fault, but you can also make the dance a most immodest one. I cannot, within the limits of my book, go into a long argument as to the propriety of these round dances. Opinions differ, and I am not writing a sermon, but giving, as far as is in my power, hints to ladies in society. It is, therefore, enough for me to know that these dances are tolerated, and that, even were I so inclined, _I_ could not exclude them.

To return to the position. Stand a little to the right of your partner, that, in clasping your waist, he may draw you upon his arm to his shoulder, not his breast; the last position is awkward. By observing the first, you have your head free; turn it a little towards the left shoulder; need I say, never lay it upon your partner's shoulder? Throw the head and shoulders a little back, not too much to be consistent with easy grace, place one hand upon your partner's shoulder, and the other in his disengaged hand. So, you are ready to start.

The waltz may be danced to very fast time, or to slow music. The last is the most graceful, and there is not so much danger of giddiness. Grace can only be gained by a perfect timing of the steps to the music, and also evenness of step. It is, when properly timed with perfect step, and easy, gliding motion, the most graceful of dances. The Germans, who dance for the sake of _dancing_, will only allow a certain number of waltzers on the floor at one time, and these waltz in streams, all going down one side of the room and up the other, thus rendering collisions impossible.

An English writer, in a recent work published on etiquette, speaks of waltzing thus:--

"It is perhaps useless to recommend flat-foot waltzing in this country, where ladies allow themselves to be almost hugged by their partners, and where men think it necessary to lift a lady almost off the ground, but I am persuaded that if it were introduced, the outcry against the impropriety of waltzing would soon cease. Nothing can be more delicate than the way in which a German holds his partner. It is impossible to dance on the flat foot unless the lady and gentleman are quite free of one another. His hand, therefore, goes no further round her waist than to the hooks and eyes of her dress, hers, no higher than to his elbow.

Thus danced, the waltz is smooth, graceful, and delicate, and we could never in Germany complain of our daughter's languishing on a young man's shoulder. On the other hand, nothing is more graceless and absurd, than to see a man waltzing on the tips of his toes, lifting his partner off the ground, or twirling round and round with her like the figures on a street organ. The test of waltzing in time, is to be able to stamp the time with the left foot. The waltz is of German origin, but where it is still danced in Germany in the original manner, (as, for instance, among the peasants of the Tyrol,) it is a very different dance. It is there very slow and graceful; the feet are thrown out in a single long step, which Turveydrop, I presume, would call a _jete_. After a few turns, the partners waltz alone in the same step, the man keeping the time by striking together his iron-shod heels, until with a shout and clapping of hands he again clasps his partner and continues in the same slow measure with her."

The position for the polka, redowa, and other round dances, should be the same as that for the waltz, and for the steps, they can only be acquired from a dancing teacher, and are impossible to describe properly.

One of the most delightful accomplishments which a lady can possess, and one which is unfortunately but little cultivated, is the art of reading aloud well; reading with expression, taste, animation, and correctness; and this art once acquired, let her also be able to recite well.

Long lectures may be given upon elocution, but the advice can be condensed into two directions. First, be sure you p.r.o.nounce, accent, and enunciate every word correctly; then, throw your whole soul into the words. Study your author carefully, that you may know precisely what he means by each expression, and then try to bury your personal ident.i.ty, to become, for the time, the character you represent.

One of the most delightful ways to spend a social evening, is to devote it to dramatic literature. Invite only guests who read well, or who are really interested listeners, and select a play, or scenes from several plays, and cast the parts among your guests. All jealousy must be put aside, and to-night's Hamlet must condescend to direct Richard to

"Stand by, my lord, and let the coffin pa.s.s,"

to-morrow.

After a few meetings, the peculiar talent of each reader will be recognized, and you can select your tragedy hero, comedy hero, queen, chambermaid, and other members of the force, with a view to the display of each one's best powers. Vary the entertainment by reciting monologues and dialogues. A whole play will often be found tiresome; it is best to select several scenes, keeping up the thread of the plot, and introducing the best characters, and leave out what is mere interlude, and dispense with some of the subordinate characters.

Leave one end of the room entirely vacant for the readers. You will find it more interesting to have the readers stand, and use some little motion; the words will flow more easily, the expressions come more forcibly if the appropriate gesture is made. Love scenes will, of course, require delicate handling, and embracing can be easily omitted; neither would I recommend the action of a dueling scene, or a murder, but merely to add gesture enough to give interest to both readers and audience.

You will find some little difficulty from bashfulness, and the "don't like to" people at first, but soon you will discover with delight how many of your friends possess the talent for reading well, and never knew it themselves.

You will do well to take a few lessons in elocution, but you need not fear to read if you have never made the accomplishment a study. With a correct knowledge of your own language, and a love for fine writing, you will soon read well.

Give to every part you undertake, the full effect intended by the writer. Do not throw all your energy, your whole soul, into a leading part at one time, and slight a subordinate character at another. If you have but five words to read, read them as they would be spoken were you the character you represent for the time. To hear a splendidly written, tragic burst of pa.s.sion read in a weak, whining voice, is no worse than to have a few simple words from a servant's lips delivered with the gesture and emphasis suited to a Medea or Lady Macbeth.

I shall be condemned by many serious and well-judging persons, if I say one word in favor of private theatricals; yet, as it appears to me, there are in these diversions some advantages which are not to be found to excuse the waltz, or the polka, or the ballet, or the hunting field.

In private theatricals there is the possibility of _some_ benefit. The study of the finest dramatists, especially of Shakespeare, is not likely to demoralize the mind, or to cool the enthusiasm for what is good. We can scarcely know too well those works which have tended more to form character than any collection of any kind whatsoever.

Shakespeare, Sheridan, Bulwer,--but I cannot go through the list of fine dramatic writers whose works elevate the mind and taste. The plays of Sheridan, Knowles, and Bulwer, are, in most instances, well adapted for private representations--the most exquisite delineations of female character may be found in the dramatic library, and high, pure, manly thoughts, may be traced, line after line, to the same source.

Private theatricals should, however, be regulated with much judgment. I see no reason to restrict too severely talent of this kind where it exists, any more than to crush a dawning taste for the other fine arts.