me new grace.

AFTER my first surprise was over, I endeavoured, by nicely examining
her face, to find out some imperfection, without any fruit of my
search, but my being clearly convinced of the error of that vulgar
notion, that a face exactly proportioned, and perfectly beautiful,
would not be agreeable; nature having done for her, with more
success, what Appelles is said to have essayed, by a collection of
the most exact features, to form a perfect face. Add to all this, a
behaviour so full of grace and sweetness, such easy motions, with an
air so majestic, yet free from stiffness or affectation, that I am
persuaded, could she be suddenly transported upon the most polite
throne of Europe, no body would think her other than born and bred to
be a queen, though educated in a country we call barbarous. To say
all in a word, our most celebrated English beauties would vanish near
her.

SHE was dressed in a _caftan_ of gold brocade, flowered with silver,
very well fitted to her shape, and shewing to admiration the beauty
of her bosom, only shaded by the thin gauze of her shift. Her
drawers were pale pink, her waistcoat green and silver, her slippers
white sattin, finely embroidered: her lovely arms adorned with
bracelets of diamonds, and her broad girdle set round with diamonds;
upon her head a rich Turkish handkerchief of pink and silver, her own
fine black hair hanging a great length, in various tresses, and on
one side of her head some bodkins of jewels. I am afraid you will
accuse me of extravagance in this description. I think I have read
somewhere, that women always speak in rapture when they speak of
beauty, and I cannot imagine why they should not be allowed to do so.
I rather think it a virtue to be able to admire without any mixture
of desire or envy. The gravest writers have spoken with great
warmth, of some celebrated pictures and statues. The workmanship of
Heaven, certainly excels all our weak imitations, and, I think, has a
much better claim to our praise. For my part, I am not ashamed to
own, I took more pleasure in looking on the beauteous Fatima, than
the finest piece of sculpture could have given me. She told me, the
two girls at her feet were her daughters, though she appeared too
young to be their mother. Her fair maids were ranged below the sofa,
to the number of twenty, and put me in mind of the pictures of the
ancient nymphs. I did not think all nature could have furnished such
a scene o