It would be out of place here to discuss comparatively the origins of our

ideas of beauty. That is a question which belongs to aesthetics, not to
sexual psychology, and it is a question on which aestheticians are not
altogether in agreement. We need not even be concerned to make any
definite assertion on the question whether our ideas of sexual beauty have
developed under the influence of more general and fundamental laws, or
whether sexual ideals themselves underlie our more general conceptions of
beauty. Practically, so far as man and his immediate ancestors are
concerned, the sexual and the extra-sexual factors of beauty have been
interwoven from the first. The sexually beautiful object must have
appealed to fundamental physiological aptitudes of reaction; the
generally beautiful object must have shared in the thrill which the
specifically sexual object imparted. There has been an inevitable action
and reaction throughout. Just as we found that the sexual and the
non-sexual influences of agreeable odors throughout nature are
inextricably mingled, so it is with the motives that make an object
beautiful to our eyes.[131]

The sexual element in the constitution of beauty is well
recognized even by those writers who concern themselves
exclusively with the aesthetic conception of beauty or with its
relation to culture. It is enough to quote two or three
testimonies on this point. "The whole sentimental side of our
aesthetic sensibility," remarks Santayana, "--without which it
would be perceptive and mathematical rather than aesthetic,--is
due to our sexual organization remotely stirred.... If anyone
were desirous to produce a being with a great susceptibility to
beauty, he could not invent an instrument better designed for
that object than sex. Individuals that need not unite for the
birth and rearing of each generation might retain a savage
independence. For them it would not be necessary that any vision
should fascinate, or that any languor should soften, the prying
cruelty of the eye. But sex endows the individual with a dumb and
powerful instinct, which carries his body and soul continually
toward another; makes it one of the dearest enjoyments of his
life to select and pursue a companion, and joins to possession
the keenest pleasure, to rivalry the fiercest rage, and to
solitude an eternal melancholy. What more could be needed to
suffuse the world with the deepest meaning and beauty? The
attention is fixed upon a well-defined object, and all the
effects it produces in the mind are easily regarded as powers or
qualities of that object.... To a certain extent this kind of
interest will center in the proper object of sexual passion, and
in the special characteristics of the opposite sex[131]; and we
find, accordingly, that woman is the most lovely object to man,
and man, if female modesty would confess it, the most interesting
to woman. But the effects of so fundamental and primitive a
reaction are much more general. Sex is not the only object of
sexual passion. When love lacks its specific object, when it does
not yet understand itself, or has been sacrificed to some other
interest, we see the stifled fire bursting out in various
directions.... Passion then overflows and visibly floods those
neighboring regions which it had always secretly watered. For the
same nervous organization which sex involves, with its
necessarily wide branchings and associations in the brain, must
be partially stimulated by other objects than its specific or
ultimate one; especially in man, who, unlike some of the lower
animals, has not his instincts clearly distinct and intermittent,
but always partially active, and never active in isolation. We
may say, then, that for man all nature is a secondary object of
sexual passion, and that to this fact the beauty of nature is
largely due." (G. Santayana, _The Sense of Beauty_, pp. 59-62.)

Not only is the general fact of sexual attraction an essential
element of aesthetic contemplation, as Santayana remarks, but we
have to recognize also that specific sexual emotion properly
comes within the aesthetic field. It is quite erroneous, as Groos
well points out, to assert that sexual emotion has no aesthetic
value. On the contrary, it has quite as much value as the emotion
of terror or of pity. Such emotion, must, however, be duly
subordinated to the total aesthetic effect. (K. Groos, _Der
AEsthetische Genuss_, p. 151.)

"The idea of beauty," Remy de Gourmont says, "is not an unmixed
idea; it is intimately united with the idea of carnal pleasure.
Stendhal obscurely perceived this when he defined beauty as 'a
promise of happiness.' Beauty is a woman, and women themselves
have carried docility to men so far as to accept this aphorism
which they can only understand in extreme sexual perversion....
Beauty is so sexual that the only uncontested works of art are
those that simply show the human body in its nudity. By its
perseverance in remaining purely sexual Greek statuary has placed
itself forever above all discussion. It is beautiful because it
is a beautiful human body, such a one as every man or every woman
would desire to unite with in the perpetuation of the race....
That which inclines to love seems beautiful; that which seems
beautiful inclines to love. This intimate union of art and of
love is, indeed, the only explanation of art. Without this
genital echo art would never have been born and never have been
perpetuated. There is nothing useless in these deep human depths;
everything which has endured is necessary. Art is the accomplice
of love. When love is taken away there is no art; when art is
taken away love is nothing but a physiological need." (Remy de
Gourmont, _Culture des Idees_, 1900, p. 103, and _Mercure de
France_, August, 1901, pp. 298 et seq.)

Beauty as incarnated in the feminine body has to some extent
become the symbol of love even for women. Colin Scott finds that
it is common among women who are not inverted for female beauty
whether on the stage or in art to arouse sexual emotion to a
greater extent than male beauty, and this is confirmed by some of
the histories I have recorded in the Appendix to the third
volume of these _Studies_. Scott considers that female beauty has
come to be regarded as typical of ideal beauty, and thus tends to
produce an emotional effect on both sexes alike. It is certainly
rare to find any aesthetic admiration of men among women, except
in the case of women who have had some training in art. In this
matter it would seem that woman passively accepts the ideals of
man. "Objects which excite a man's desire," Colin Scott remarks,
"are often, if not generally, the same as those affecting woman.
The female body has a sexually stimulating effect upon both
sexes. Statues of female forms are more liable than those of male
form to have a stimulating effect upon women as well as men. The
evidence of numerous literary expressions seems to show that
under the influence of sexual excitement a woman regards her body
as made for man's gratification, and that it is this complex
emotion which forms the initial stage, at least, of her own
pleasure. Her body is the symbol for her partner, and indirectly
for her, through his admiration of it, of their mutual joy and
satisfaction." (Colin Scott, "Sex and Art," _American Journal of
Psychology_, vol. vii, No. 2, p. 206; also private letter.)

At the same time it must be remembered that beauty and the
conception of beauty have developed on a wider basis than that of
the sexual impulse only, and also that our conceptions of the
beautiful, even as concerns the human form, are to some extent
objective, and may thus be in part reduced to law. Stratz, in his
books on feminine beauty, and notably in _Die Schoenheit des
Weiblichen Koerpers_, insists on the objective element in beauty.
Papillault, again, when discussing the laws of growth and the
beauty of the face, argues that beauty of line in the face is
objective, and not a creation of fancy, since it is associated
with the highest human functions, moral and social. He remarks on
the contrast between the prehistoric man of
Chancelade,--delicately made, with elegant face and high
forehead,--who created the great Magdalenian civilization, and
his seemingly much more powerful, but less beautiful,
predecessor, the man of Spy, with enormous muscles and powerful
jaws. (_Bulletin de la Societe d'Anthropologie_, 1899, p. 220.)

The largely objective character of beauty is further indicated by
the fact that to a considerable extent beauty is the expression
of health. A well and harmoniously developed body, tense muscles,
an elastic and finely toned skin, bright eyes, grace and
animation of carriage--all these things which are essential to
beauty are the conditions of health. It has not been demonstrated
that there is any correlation between beauty and longevity, and
the proof would not be easy to give, but it is quite probable
that such a correlation may exist, and various indications point
in this direction. One of the most delightful of Opie's pictures
is the portrait of Pleasance Reeve (afterward Lady Smith) at the
age of 17. This singularly beautiful and animated brunette lived
to the age of 104. Most people are probably acquainted with
similar, if less marked, cases of the same tendency.

The extreme sexual importance of beauty, so far, at all events, as
conscious experience is concerned is well illustrated by the fact that,
although three other senses may and often do play a not inconsiderable
part in the constitution of a person's sexual attractiveness,--the tactile
element being, indeed, fundamental,--yet in nearly all the most elaborate
descriptions of attractive individuals it is the visible elements that are
in most cases chiefly emphasized. Whether among the lowest savages or in
the highest civilization, the poet and story-teller who seeks to describe
an ideally lovely and desirable woman always insists mainly, and often
exclusively, on those characters which appeal to the eye. The richly laden
word _beauty_ is a synthesis of complex impressions obtained through a
single sense, and so simple, comparatively, and vague are the impressions
derived from the other senses that none of them can furnish us with any
corresponding word.

Before attempting to analyze the conception of beauty, regarded
in its sexual appeal to the human mind, it may be well to bring
together a few fairly typical descriptions of a beautiful woman
as she appears to the men of various nations.

In an Australian folklore story taken down from the lips of a
native some sixty years ago by W. Dunlop (but evidently not in
the native's exact words) we find this description of an
Australian beauty: "A man took as his wife a beautiful girl who
had long, glossy hair hanging around her face and down her
shoulders, which were plump and round. Her face was adorned with
red clay and her person wrapped in a fine large opossum rug
fastened by a pin formed from the small bone of the kangaroo's
leg, and also by a string attached to a wallet made of rushes
neatly plaited of small strips skinned from their outside after
they had been for some time exposed to the heat of the fire;
which being thrown on her back, the string passing under one arm
and across her breast, held the soft rug in a fanciful position
of considerable elegance; and she knew well how to show to
advantage her queenlike figure when she walked with her polished
yam stick held in one of her small hands and her little feet
appearing below the edge of the rug" (W. Dunlop, "Australian
Folklore Stories," _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_,
August and November, 1898, p. 27).

A Malay description of female beauty is furnished by Skeat. "The
brow (of the Malay Helen for whose sake a thousand desperate
battles are fought in Malay romances) is like the one-day-old
moon; her eyebrows resemble 'pictured clouds,' and are 'arched
like the fighting-cock's (artificial) spur'; her cheek resembles
the 'sliced-off cheek of a mango'; her nose, 'an opening jasmine
bud'; her hair, the 'wavy blossom shoots of the areca-palm';
slender is her neck, 'with a triple row of dimples'; her bosom
ripening, her waist 'lissom as the stalk of a flower,' her head;
'of a perfect oval' (literally, bird's-egg shaped), her fingers
like the leafy 'spears of lemon-grass' or the 'quills of the
porcupine,' her eyes 'like the splendor of the planet Venus,' and
her lips 'like the fissure of a pomegranate.'" (W.W. Skeat,
_Malay Magic_, 1900, p. 363.)

In Mitford's _Tales of Old Japan_ (vol. i, p. 215) a "peerlessly
beautiful girl of 16" is thus described: "She was neither too fat
nor too thin, neither too tall nor too short; her face was oval,
like a melon-seed, and her complexion fair and white;; her eyes
were narrow and bright, her teeth small and even; her nose was
aquiline, and her mouth delicately formed, with lovely red lips;
her eyebrows were long and fine; she had a profusion of long
black hair; she spoke modestly, with a soft, sweet voice, and
when she smiled, two lovely dimples appeared in her cheeks; in
all her movements she was gentle and refined." The Japanese belle
of ancient times, Dr. Nagayo Sensai remarks (_Lancet_, February
15, 1890) had a white face, a long, slender throat and neck, a
narrow chest, small thighs, and small feet and hands. Baelz, also,
has emphasized the ethereal character of the Japanese ideal of
feminine beauty, delicate, pale and slender, almost uncanny; and
Stratz, in his interesting book, _Die Koerperformen in Kunst und
Leben der Japaner_ (second edition, 1904), has dealt fully with
the subject of Japanese beauty.

The Singalese are great connoisseurs of beauty, and a Kandyan
deeply learned in the matter gave Dr. Davy the following
enumeration of a woman's points of beauty: "Her hair should be
voluminous, like the tail of the peacock, long, reaching to her
knees, and terminating in graceful curls; her eyebrows should
resemble the rainbow, her eyes, the blue sapphire and the petals
of the blue manilla-flower. Her nose should be like the bill of
the hawk; her lips should be bright and red, like coral or the
young leaf of the iron-tree. Her teeth should be small, regular,
and closely set, and like jessamine buds. Her neck should be
large and round, resembling the berrigodea. Her chest should be
capacious; her breasts, firm and conical, like the yellow
cocoa-nut, and her waist small--almost small enough to be clasped
by the hand. Her hips should be wide; her limbs tapering; the
soles of her feet, without any hollow, and the surface of her
body in general soft, delicate, smooth, and rounded, without the
asperities of projecting bones and sinews." (J. Davy, _An
Account of the Interior of Ceylon_, 1821, p. 110.)

The "Padmini," or lotus-woman, is described by Hindu writers as
the type of most perfect feminine beauty. "She in whom the
following signs and symptoms appear is called a _Padmini_: Her
face is pleasing as the full moon; her body, well clothed with
flesh, is as soft as the Shiras or mustard flower; her skin is
fine, tender, and fair as the yellow lotus, never dark colored.
Her eyes are bright and beautiful as the orbs of the fawn, well
cut, and with reddish corners. Her bosom is hard, full, and high;
she; has a good neck; her nose is straight and lovely; and three
folds or wrinkles cross her middle--about the umbilical region.
Her _yoni_ [vulva] resembles the opening lotus bud, and her
love-seed is perfumed like the lily that has newly burst. She
walks with swanlike [more exactly, flamingolike] gait, and her
voice is low and musical as the note of the Kokila bird [the
Indian cuckoo]; she delights in white raiment, in fine jewels,
and in rich dresses. She eats little, sleeps lightly, and being
as respectful and religious as she is clever and courteous, she
is ever anxious to worship the gods and to enjoy the conversation
of Brahmans. Such, then, is the Padmini, or lotus-woman." (_The
Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana_, 1883, p. 11.)

The Hebrew ideal of feminine beauty is set forth in various
passages of the _Song of Songs_. The poem is familiar, and it
will suffice to quote one  passage:--

"How beautiful are thy feet in sandals, O prince's daughter!
Thy rounded thighs are like jewels,
The work of the hands of a cunning workman.
Thy navel is like a rounded goblet
Wherein no mingled wine is wanting;
Thy belly is like a heap of wheat
Set about with lilies.
Thy two breasts are like two fawns
They are twins of a roe.
Thy neck is like the tower of ivory;
Thine eyes as the pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bathrabbim;
Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon
That looketh toward Damascus.
Thine head upon thee is like Carmel
And the hair of thine head like purple;
The king is held captive in the tresses thereof.
This thy stature is like to a palm-tree,
And thy breasts to clusters of grapes,
And the smell of thy breath like apples,
And thy mouth like the best wine."

And the man is thus described in the same poem:--

"My beloved is fair and ruddy,
The chiefest among ten thousand.
His head as the most fine gold,
His locks are bushy (or curling), and black as a raven.
His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks,
Washed with milk and fitly set.
His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as banks of sweet herbs;
His lips are as lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
His hands are as rings of gold, set with beryl;
His body is as ivory work, overlaid with sapphires.
His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold.
His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
His mouth is most sweet; yea, he is altogether lovely."

"The maiden whose loveliness inspires the most impassioned
expressions in Arabic poetry," Lane states, "is celebrated for
her slender figure: She is like the cane among plants, and is
elegant as a twig of the oriental willow. Her face is like the
full moon, presenting the strongest contrast to the color of her
hair, which is of the deepest hue of night, and falls to the
middle of her back (Arab ladies are extremely fond of full and
long hair). A rosy blush overspreads the center of each cheek;
and a mole is considered an additional charm. The Arabs, indeed,
are particularly extravagant in their admiration of this natural
beauty spot, which, according to its place, is compared to a drop
of ambergris upon a dish of alabaster or upon the surface of a
ruby. The eyes of the Arab beauty are intensely black,[132]
large, and long, of the form of an almond: they are full of
brilliancy; but this is softened by long silken lashes, giving a
tender and languid expression that is full of enchantment and
scarcely to be improved by the adventitious aid of the black
border of kohl; for this the lovely maiden adds rather for the
sake of fashion than necessity, having what the Arabs term
natural kohl. The eyebrows are thin and arched; the forehead is
wide and fair as ivory; the nose straight; the mouth, small; the
lips of a brilliant red; and the teeth, like pearls set in coral.
The forms of the bosom are compared to two pomegranates; the
waist is slender; the hips are wide and large; the feet and
hands, small; the fingers, tapering, and their extremities dyed
with the deep orange tint imparted by the leaves of the henna."

Lane adds a more minute analysis from an unknown author quoted by
El-Ishakee: "Four things in a woman should be _black_--the hair
of the head, the eyebrows, the eyelashes, and the dark part of
the eyes; four _white_--the complexion of the skin, the white of
the eyes, the teeth, and the legs; four _red_--the tongue, the
lips, the middle of the cheeks, and the gums; four _round_--the
head, the neck, the forearms, and the ankles; four _long_--the
back, the fingers, the arms, and the legs; four _wide_--the
forehead, the eyes, the bosom, and the hips; four _fine_--the
eyebrows, the nose, the lips, and the fingers; four _thick_--the
lower part of the back, the thighs, the calves of the legs, and
the knees; four _small_--the ears, the breasts, the hands, and
the feet." (E.W. Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_,
1883, pp. 214-216.)

A Persian treatise on the figurative terms relating to beauty
shows that the hair should be black, abundant, and wavy, the
eyebrows dark and arched. The eyelashes also must be dark, and
like arrows from the bow of the eyebrows. There is, however, no
insistence on the blackness of the eyes. We hear of four
varieties of eye: the dark-gray eye (or narcissus eye); the
narrow, elongated eye of Turkish beauties; the languishing, or
love-intoxicated, eye; and the wine-colored eye. Much stress is
laid on the quality of brilliancy. The face is sometimes
described as brown, but more especially as white and rosy. There
are many references to the down on the lips, which is described
as greenish (sometimes bluish) and compared to herbage. This down
and that on the cheeks and the stray hairs near the ears were
regarded as very great beauties. A beauty spot on the chin,
cheek, or elsewhere was also greatly admired, and evoked many
poetic comparisons. The mouth must be very small. In stature a
beautiful woman must be tall and erect, like the cypress or the
maritime pine. While the Arabs admired the rosiness of the legs
and thighs, the Persians insisted on white legs and compared them
to silver and crystal. (_Anis El-Ochchaq_, by Shereef-Eddin Romi,
translated by Huart, _Bibliotheque de l'Ecole des Hautes Etudes_,
Paris, fasc. 25, 1875.)

In the story of Kamaralzaman in the _Arabian Nights_ El-Sett
Budur is thus described: "Her hair is so brown that it is blacker
than the separation of friends. And when it is arrayed in three
tresses that reach to her feet I seem to see three nights at
once.

"Her face is as white as the day on which friends meet again. If
I look on it at the time of the full moon I see two moons at
once.

"Her cheeks are formed of an anemone divided into two corollas;
they have the purple tinge of wine, and her nose is straighter
and more delicate than the finest sword-blade.

"Her lips are colored agate and coral; her tongue secretes
eloquence; her saliva is more desirable than the juice of
grapes.

"But her bosom, blessed be the Creator, is a living seduction. It
bears twin breasts of the purest ivory, rounded, and that may be
held within the five fingers of one hand.

"Her belly has dimples full of shade and arranged with the
harmony of the Arabic characters on the seal of a Coptic scribe
in Egypt. And the belly gives origin to her finely modeled and
elastic waist.

"At the thought of her flanks I shudder, for thence depends a
mass so weighty that it obliges its owner to sit down when she
has risen and to rise when she lies.

"Such are her flanks, and from them descend, like white marble,
her glorious thighs, solid and straight, united above beneath
their crown. Then come the legs and the slender feet, so small
that I am astounded they can bear so great a weight."

An Egyptian stela in the Louvre sings the praise of a beautiful
woman, a queen who died about 700 B.C., as follows: "The beloved
before all women, the king's daughter who is sweet in love, the
fairest among women, a maid whose like none has seen. Blacker is
her hair than the darkness of night, blacker than the berries of
the blackberry bush (?). Harder are her teeth (?) than the flints
on the sickle. A wreath of flowers is each of her breasts, close
nestling on her arms." Wiedemann, who quotes this, adds: "During
the whole classic period of Egyptian history with few exceptions
(such, for example, as the reign of that great innovator,
Amenophis IV) the ideal alike for the male and the female body
was a slender and but slightly developed form. Under the
Ethiopian rule and during the Ptolemaic period in Egypt itself we
find, for the first time, that the goddesses are represented with
plump and well-developed outlines. Examination of the mummies
shows that the earlier ideal was based upon actual facts, and
that in ancient Egypt slender, sinewy forms distinguished both
men and women. Intermarriage with other races and harem life may
have combined in later times to alter the physical type, and with
it to change also the ideal of beauty." (A. Wiedemann, _Popular
Literature in Ancient Egypt_, p. 7.)

Commenting on Plato's ideas of beauty in the _Banquet_
Emeric-David gives references from Greek literature showing that
the typical Greek beautiful woman must be tall, her body supple,
her fingers long, her foot small and light, the eyes clear and
moderately large, the eyebrows slightly arched and almost
meeting, the nose straight and firm, nearly--but not
quite--aquiline, the breath sweet as honey. (Emeric-David,
_Recherches sur l'Art Statuaire_, new edition, 1863, p. 42.)

At the end of classic antiquity, probably in the fifth century,
Aristaenetus in his first Epistle thus described his mistress
Lais: "Her cheeks are white, but mixed in imitation of the
splendor of the rose; her lips are thin, by a narrow space
separated from the cheeks, but more red; her eyebrows are black
and divided in the middle; the nose straight and proportioned to
the thin lips; the eyes large and bright, with very black pupils,
surrounded by the clearest white, each color more brilliant by
contrast. Her hair is naturally curled, and, as Homer's saying
is, like the hyacinth. The neck is white and proportioned to the
face, and though unadorned more conspicuous by its delicacy; but
a necklace of gems encircles it, on which her name is written in
jewels. She is tall and elegantly dressed in garments fitted to
her body and limbs. When dressed her appearance is beautiful;
when undressed she is all beauty. Her walk is composed and slow;
she looks like a cypress or a palm stirred by the wind. I cannot
describe how the swelling, symmetrical breasts raise the
constraining vest, nor how delicate and supple her limbs are. And
when she speaks, what sweetness in her discourse!"

Renier has studied the feminine ideal of the Provencal poets, the
troubadours who used the "langue d'oc." "They avoid any
description of the feminine type. The indications refer in great
part to the slender, erect, fresh appearance of the body, and to
the white and rosy coloring. After the person generally, the eyes
receive most praise; they are sweet, amorous, clear, smiling, and
bright. The color is never mentioned. The mouth is laughing, and
vermilion, and, smiling sweetly, it reveals the white teeth and
calls for the delights of the kiss. The face is clear and fresh,
the hand white and the hair constantly blonde. The troubadours
seldom speak of the rest of the body. Peire Vidal is an
exception, and his reference to the well-raised breasts may be
placed beside a reference by Bertran de Born. The general
impression conveyed by the love lyrics of the langue d'oc is one
of great convention. There seemed to be no salvation outside
certain phrases and epithets. The woman of Provence, sung by
hundreds of poets, seems to have been composed all of milk and
roses, a blonde Nuremburg doll." (R. Renier, _Il Tipo Estetico
della Donna nel Medioevo_, 1885, pp. 1-24.)

The conventional ideal of the troubadours is, again, thus
described: "She is a lady whose skin is white as milk, whiter
than the driven snow, of peculiar purity in whiteness. Her
cheeks, on which vermilion hues alone appear, are like the
rosebud in spring, when it has not yet opened to the full. Her
hair, which is nearly always bedecked and adorned with flowers,
is invariably of the color of flax, as soft as silk, and
shimmering with a sheen of the finest gold." (J.F. Rowbotham,
_The Troubadours and Courts of Love_, p. 228.)

In the most ancient Spanish romances, Renier remarks, the
definite indications of physical beauty are slight. The hair is
"of pure gold," or simply fair (_rudios_, which is equal to
_blondos_, a word of later introduction), the face white and
rosy, the hand soft, white, and fragrant; in one place we find a
reference to the uncovered breasts, whiter than crystal. But
usually the ancient Castilian romances do not deal with these
details. The poet contents himself with the statement that a lady
is the sweetest woman in the world, "_la mas linda mujer del
mundo_." (R. Renier, _Il Tipo Estetico della Donna nel Medioevo_,
pp. 68 et seq.)

In a detailed and well-documented thesis, Alwin Schultz describes
the characteristics of the beautiful woman as she appealed to the
German authors of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. She must
be of medium height and slender. Her hair must be fair, like
gold; long, bright, and curly; a man's must only reach to his
shoulders. Dark hair is seldom mentioned and was not admired. The
parting of the hair must be white, but not too broad. The
forehead must be white and bright and rounded, without wrinkles.
The eyebrows must be darker than the hair, arched, and not too
broad, as though drawn with a pencil, the space between them not
too broad. The eyes must be bright, clear, and sparkling, not too
large or too small; nothing definite was said of the color, but
they were evidently usually blue. The nose must be of medium
size, straight, and not curved. The cheeks must be white, tinged
with red; if the red was absent by nature women used rouge. The
mouth must be small; the lips full and red. The teeth must be
small, white, and even. The chin must be white, rounded, lovable,
dimpled; the ears small and beautiful; the neck of medium size,
soft, white, and spotless; the arm small; the hands and fingers
long; the joints small, the nails white and bright and well cared
for. The bosom must be white and large; the breasts high and
rounded, like apples or pears, small and soft. The body generally
must be slender and active. The lower parts of the body are very
seldom mentioned, and many poets are even too modest to mention
the breasts. The buttocks must be rounded, one poet, indeed,
mentions, and the thighs soft and white, the _meinel_ (mons)
brown. The legs must be straight and narrow, the calves full, the
feet small and narrow, with high instep. The color of the skin
generally must be clear and of a tempered rosiness. (A. Schultz,
_Quid de Perfecta Corporis Humani Pulchritudine Germani Soeculi
XII et XIII Senserint_, 1866.) A somewhat similar, but shorter,
account is given by K. Weinhold (_Die Deutschen Frauen im
Mittelalter_, 1882, bd. 1, pp. 219 et seq.). Weinhold considers
that, like the French, the Germans admired the mixed eye, _vair_
or gray.

Adam de la Halle, the Artois _trouvere_ of the thirteenth
century, in a piece ("Li Jus Adan ou de la feuillie") in which he
brings himself forward, thus describes his mistress: "Her hair
had the brilliance of gold, and was twisted into rebellious
curls. Her forehead was very regular, white, and smooth; her
eyebrows, delicate and even, were two brown arches, which seemed
traced with a brush. Her eyes, bright and well cut, seemed to me
_vairs_ and full of caresses; they were large beneath, and their
lids like little sickles, adorned by twin folds, veiled or
revealed at her will her loving gaze. Between her eyes descended
the pipe of her nose, straight and beautiful, mobile when she was
gay; on either side were her rounded, white cheeks, on which
laughter impressed two dimples, and which one could see blushing
beneath her veil. Beneath the nose opened a mouth with blossoming
lips; this mouth, fresh and vermilion as a rose, revealed the
white teeth, in regular array; beneath the chin sprang the white
neck, descending full and round to the shoulder. The powerful
nape, white and without any little wandering hairs, protruded a
little over the dress. To her sloping shoulders were attached
long arms, large or slender where they so should be. What shall I
say of her white hands, with their long fingers, and knuckles
without knots, delicately ending in rosy nails attached to the
flesh by a clear and single line? I come to her bosom with its
firm breasts, but short and high pointed, revealing the valley of
love between them, to her round belly, her arched flanks. Her
hips were flat, her legs round, her calf large; she had a slender
ankle, a lean and arched foot. Such she was as I saw her, and
that which her chemise hid was not of less worth." (Houdoy, _La
Beaute des Femmes_, p. 125, who quotes the original of this
passage, considers it the ideal model of the mediaeval woman.)

In the twelfth century story of _Aucassin et Nicolette_,
"Nicolette had fair hair, delicate and curling; her eyes were
gray (_vairs_) and smiling; her face admirably modeled. Her nose
was high and well placed; her lips small and more vermilion than
the cherry or the rose in summer; her teeth were small and white;
her firm little breasts raised her dress as would two walnuts.
Her figure was so slender that you could inclose it with your two
hands, and the flowers of the marguerite, which her toes broke as
she walked with naked feet, seemed black in comparison with her
feet and legs, so white was she."

"Her hair was divided into a double tress," says Alain of Lille
in the twelfth century, "which was long enough to kiss the
ground; the parting, white as the lily and obliquely traced,
separated the hair, and this want of symmetry, far from hurting
her face, was one of the elements of her beauty. A golden comb
maintained that abundant hair whose brilliance rivaled it, so
that the fascinated eye could scarce distinguish the gold of the
hair from the gold of the comb. The expanded forehead had the
whiteness of milk, and rivaled the lily; her bright eyebrows
shone like gold, not standing up in a brush, and, without being
too scanty, orderly arranged. The eyes, serene and brilliant in
their friendly light, seemed twin stars, her nostrils embalsamed
with the odor of honey, neither too depressed in shape nor too
prominent, were of distinguished form; the nard of her mouth
offered to the smell a treat of sweet odors, and her half-open
lips invited a kiss. The teeth seemed cut in ivory; her cheeks,
like the carnation of the rose, gently illuminated her face and
were tempered by the transparent whiteness of her veil. Her chin,
more polished than crystal, showed silver reflections, and her
slender neck fitly separated her head from the shoulders. The
firm rotundity of her breasts attested the full expansion of
youth; her charming arms, advancing toward you, seemed to call
for caresses; the regular curve of her flanks, justly
proportioned, completed her beauty. All the visible traits of her
face and form thus sufficiently told what those charms must be
that the bed alone knew." (The Latin text is given by Houdoy, _La
Beaute des Femmes du XIIe au XVIe Siecle_, p. 119. Robert de
Flagy's portrait of Blanchefleur in _Sarin-le-Loherain_, written
in same century, reveals very similar traits.)

"The young woman appeared with twenty brightly polished daggers
and swords," we read in the Irish _Tain Bo Cuailgne_ of the
Badhbh or Banshee who appeared to Meidhbh, "together with seven
braids for the dead, of bright gold, in her right hand; a
speckled garment of green ground, fastened by a bodkin at the
breast under her fair, ruddy countenance, enveloped her form; her
teeth were so new and bright that they appeared like pearls
artistically set in her gums; like the ripe berry of the mountain
ash were her lips; sweeter was her voice than the notes of the
gentle harp-strings when touched by the most skillful fingers,
and emitting the most enchanting melody; whiter than the snow of
one night was her skin, and beautiful to behold were her
garments, which reached to her well molded, bright-nailed feet;
copious tresses of her tendriled, glossy, golden hair hung
before, while others dangled behind and reached the calf of her
leg." (_Ossianio Transactions_, vol. ii, p. 107.)

An ancient Irish hero is thus described: "They saw a great hero
approaching them; fairest of the heroes of the world; larger and
taller than any man; bluer than ice his eye; redder than the
fresh rowan berries his lips; whiter than showers of pearl his
teeth; fairer than the snow of one night his skin; a protecting
shield with a golden border was upon him, two battle-lances in
his hands; a sword with knobs of ivory [teeth of the sea-horse],
and ornamented with gold, at his side; he had no other
accoutrements of a hero besides these; he had golden hair on his
head, and had a fair, ruddy countenance." (_The Banquet of Dun na
n-gedh_, translated by O'Donovan, _Irish Archaeological Society_,
1842.)

The feminine ideal of the Italian poets closely resembles that of
those north of the Alps. Petrarch's Laura, as described in the
_Canzoniere_, is white as snow; her eyes, indeed, are black, but
the fairness of her hair is constantly emphasized; her lips are
rosy; her teeth white; her cheeks rosy; her breast youthful; her
hands white and slender. Other poets insist on the tall, white,
delicate body; the golden or blonde hair; the bright or starry
eyes (without mention of color), the brown or black arched
eyebrows, the straight nose, the small mouth, the thin vermilion
lips, the small and firm breasts. (Renier, _Il Tipo Estetico_,
pp. 87 et seq.)

Marie de France, a French mediaeval writer of the twelfth century,
who spent a large part of her life in England, in the _Lai of
Lanval_ thus described a beautiful woman: "Her body was
beautiful, her hips low, the neck whiter than snow, the eyes gray
(_vairs_), the face white, the mouth beautiful, the nose well
placed, the eyebrows brown, the forehead beautiful, the head
curly and blonde; the gleam of gold thread was less bright than
her hair beneath the sun."

The traits of Boccaccio's ideal of feminine beauty, a voluptuous
ideal as compared with the ascetic mediaeval ideal which had
previously prevailed, together with the characteristics of the
very beautiful and almost classic garments in which he arrayed
women, have been brought together by Hortis (_Studi sulle opere
Latine del Boccaccio_, 1879, pp. 70 et seq.). Boccaccio admired
fair and abundant wavy hair, dark and delicate eyebrows, and
brown or even black eyes. It was not until some centuries later,
as Hortis remarks, that Boccaccio's ideal woman was embodied by
the painter in the canvases of Titian.

The first precise description of a famous beautiful woman was
written by Niphus in the sixteenth century in his _De Pulchro et
Amore_, which is regarded as the first modern treatise on
aesthetics. The lady described is Joan of Aragon, the greatest
beauty of her time, whose portrait by Raphael (or more probably
Giulio Romano) is in the Louvre. Niphus, who was the philosopher
of the pontifical court and the friend of Leo X, thus describes
this princess, whom, as a physician, he had opportunities of
observing accurately: "She is of medium stature, straight, and
elegant, and possesses the grace which can only be imparted by an
assemblage of characteristics which are individually faultless.
She is neither fat nor bony, but succulent; her complexion is not
pale, but white tinged with rose; her long hair is golden; her
ears are small and in proportion with the size of her mouth. Her
brown eyebrows are semicircular, not too bushy, and the
individual hairs short. Her eyes are blue (_oaesius_), brighter
than stars, radiant with grace and gaiety beneath the dark-brown
eyelashes, which are well spaced and not too long. The nose,
symmetrical and of medium size, descends perpendicularly from
between the eyebrows. The little valley separating the nose from
the upper lip is divinely proportioned. The mouth, inclined to be
rather small, is always stirred by a sweet smile; the rather
thick lips are made of honey and coral. The teeth are small,
polished as ivory, and symmetrically ranged, and the breath has
the odor of the sweetest perfumes. Her voice is that of a
goddess. The chin is divided by a dimple; the whole face
approximates to a virile rotundity. The straight long neck, white
and full, rises gracefully from the shoulders. On the ample
bosom, revealing no indication of the bones, arise the rounded
breasts, of equal and fitting size, and exhaling the perfume of
the peaches they resemble. The rather plump hands, on the back
like snow, on the palm like ivory, are exactly the length of the
face; the full and rounded fingers are long and terminating in
round, curved nails of soft color. The chest as a whole has the
form of a pear, reversed, but a little compressed, and the base
attached to the neck in a delightfully well-proportioned manner.
The belly, the flanks, and the secret parts are worthy of the
chest; the hips are large and rounded; the thighs, the legs, and
the arms are in just proportion. The breadth of the shoulders is
also in the most perfect relation to the dimensions of the other
parts of the body; the feet, of medium length, terminate in
beautifully arranged toes." (Houdoy reproduces this passage in
_La Beaute des Femmes_; cf. also Stratz, _Die Schoenheit des
Weiblichen Koerpers_, Chapter III.)

Gabriel de Minut, who published in 1587 a treatise of no very
great importance, _De la Beaute_, also wrote under the title of
_La Paulegraphie_ a very elaborate description, covering sixty
pages, of Paule de Viguier, a Gascon lady of good family and
virtuous life living at Toulouse. Minut was her devoted admirer
and addressed an affectionate poem to her just before his death.
She was seventy years of age when he wrote the elaborate account
of her beauty. She had blue eyes and fair hair, though belonging
to one of the darkest parts of France.

Ploss and Bartels (_Das Weib_, bd. 1, sec. 3) have independently
brought together a number of passages from the writers of many
countries describing their ideals of beauty. On this collection I
have not drawn.

When we survey broadly the ideals of feminine beauty set down by the
peoples of many lands, it is interesting to note that they all contain
many features which appeal to the aesthetic taste of the modern European,
and many of them, indeed, contain no features which obviously clash with
his canons of taste. It may even be said that the ideals of some savages
affect us more sympathetically than some of the ideals of our own mediaeval
ancestors. As a matter of fact, European travelers in all parts of the
world have met with women who were gracious and pleasant to look on, and
not seldom even in the strict sense beautiful, from the standpoint of
European standards. Such individuals have been found even among those
races with the greatest notoriety for ugliness.

Even among so primitive and remote a people as the Australians
beauty in the European sense is sometimes found. "I have on two
occasions," Lumholtz states, "seen what might be called beauties
among the women of western Queensland. Their hands were small,
their feet neat and well shaped, with so high an instep that one