Her shoulders were broad, but not too broad--just enough to accentuate
the waist, and to give a pleasant sense of ease and power. She was
strong, upright, self-reliant, finished in herself. Her bust was full,
but not too prominent--more after nature than the dressmaker. There was
something, though, of the corset-maker in her waist, it appeared
naturally fine, and had been assisted to be finer. But it was in the
hips that the woman was perfect:--fulness without coarseness; large but
not big: in a word, nobly proportioned. Now imagine a black dress
adhering to this form. From the shoulders to the ankles it fitted "like
a glove." There was not a wrinkle, a fold, a crease, smooth as if cast
in a mould, and yet so managed that she moved without effort. Every
undulation of her figure, as she stepped lightly forward flowed to the
surface. The slight sway of the hip as the foot was lifted, the upward
and _inward_ movement of the limb as the knee was raised, the
straightening as the instep felt her weight, each change as the limb
described the curves of walking was repeated in her dress. At every
change of position she was as gracefully draped as before. All was
revealed, yet all concealed. As she passed there was the sense of a
presence--the presence of perfect form. She was lifted as she moved
above the ground by the curves of beauty as rapid revolution in a curve
suspends the down-dragging of gravity. A force went by--the force of
animated perfect form.
Merely as an animal, how grand and beautiful is a perfect woman! Simply
as a living, breathing creature, can anything imaginable come near her?
There is such strength in shape--such force in form. Without muscular
development shape conveys the impression of the greatest of all
strength--that is, of completeness in itself. The ancient philosophy
regarded a globe as the most perfect of all bodies, because it was the
same--that is, it was perfect and complete in itself--from whatever
point it was contemplated. Such is woman's form when nature's intent is
fulfilled in beauty, and that beauty gives the idea of self-contained
power.
A full-grown woman is, too, physically stronger than a man. Her
physique excels man's. Look at her torso, at the size, the fulness, the
rounded firmness, the depth of the chest. There is a nobleness about
it. Shoulders, arms, limbs, all reach a breadth of make seldom seen in
man. There is more than merely sufficient--there is a luxuriance
indicating a surpassing vigour. And this occurs without effort. She
needs no long manual labour, no exhaustive gymnastic exercise, nor any
special care in food or training. It is difficult not to envy the
superb physique and beautiful carriage of some women. They are so
strong without effort.