In the preceding pages I have tried to explain my belief that Beauty is some quality from which we seek inspiration, and that Charm is that natural gift which helps us to give inspiration to others. When Beauty is combined with Charm—a rarer combination than Society papers would lead us to believe—you have that quality, akin to genius, which has made a few beautiful women stand out, bold figures, in the long history of the world.

In olden days, when monarchs were wont to wield their sceptres rather in the manner of a bomb-thrower his bombs, it was sufficient for a woman to attract the Royal eye for her at once to gain the reputation of world-wide beauty. Royal mistresses were always lovely ipso facto. It was lÉse majestÉ to dispute the Royal taste in feminine beauty. All the same, as one gazes nowadays upon these sirens of a past age, one confesses to oneself that most monarchs set out on their voyages À CythÈre in very rudely constructed barques. Instinctively, however, we still try to see these ladies through Royal eyes, praising them accordingly. Maybe our professed admiration for them is all part and parcel of that glamour which we weave, even to-day, around our “lesser” terrestrial deities. A lady mayoress still shares with duchesses the genius of always smiling “graciously.” (Until such a time, of course, as, her husband being denied re-election, we designate those signs of amiability on her part merely as varieties of the much-reviled “grin.”)

In this the Twentieth Century the aesthetic taste of monarchs is no longer approved unquestioningly by all the world. The power of a King's mistress is at present more social than aesthetic. To-day the photographer is more potent in the creation of a woman's reputation for beauty than the most autocratic emperor. Photography is no longer merely the business of exact reproduction—it is an Art, penetrating in its psychological illustration of character. As one gazes at those depressing likenesses of [pg 24] lovely women who lived sixty years ago, one realizes at once the popularity of such painters as Winterhalter. He, at any rate, made his “sitters” look like half-sisters to the Empress Eugenie, in a pose designed expressly for the decoration of a chocolate box. To-day the photographer has usurped the position of all but the greatest portrait-painters. And this, for the reason that the best modern photographers must also of necessity be artists. They must undergo something of the same rigorous training as painters. It is no longer a question of a good camera, a studio, and the exhibition case of “samples” hung outside the front door. A modern photographer must understand all the nuances of light and shade, tone value, colour, pose, proportion. His studies must have the characteristics of first-class paintings—minus, of course, their colour. Nevertheless, this omission must be suggested through the variations of light and shade. It is because Mr. HoppÉ is also a painter that the reproductions in this book are so superb in all those details which go to make up perfection in portraiture. They are not merely photographs (as we in our ignorance often designate photography as “mere”). They represent an art nearly akin to the finest portrait painting. Note, for example, the exquisite manner in which light and shade has been employed to throw into relief just those most lovely features which each face possesses individually, even the most beautiful. Note especially in this regard how cleverly the artist has caught the different characteristics which belong to each individual nationality—the Red Indian type of beauty, for example, as contrasted with that of the English. The difference is not so marked in the contour of the face, nor in the features, but in the eyes. There you have a whole volume of comparisons. Those of the Red Indian Beauty, exquisite in their shape, seem nevertheless to have, as it were, a shutter closed down behind them. They are unfathomable. The typical English eyes, on the other hand, how clear they are, how open; how we seem able to see right into them—deep down into the labyrinth of thought! Examine the Spanish portrait, and note how cleverly the artist has thrown into relief those most lovely characteristics of Spanish beauty—the formation of the chin, the eyebrows, the fascinating manner in which the hair is arranged as a framework for the modelling of the whole face. The Gipsy beauty—how admirably it shows the wayward grace of the Gipsy race; its wide [pg 25] and open countenance, suggestive of life led in the free air; the characteristic eyes, with their hint of Asiatic origin. Take also the picture of a typical Italian beauty—in this case Neapolitan in type. Even in this photograph one can almost see that blue-black tint so beautiful in the hair of Italian women. Note, too, the perfect Roman profile, the lovely upper lip, the sensitive nostrils—all so suggestive of a nation in which emotion and feeling are rarely suppressed. The Russian beauty—how attractive and how typical she is! Note the almost square jaw, the sensuous mouth, the upper eyelid slightly overhanging—a characteristic which lends to Russian women that unique fascination which belongs to the “language of the eye.” Indeed, it may be said that a Russian woman can express herself by her eyes alone, whereas an English woman talks, and yet is often misunderstood.

In discussing these portraits with Mr. HoppÉ he revealed to me a somewhat unconventional belief—his belief that, in America, there is no such thing as a “typical American face.” Every type is represented over there, and no one predominates over another. American women differ from English women in a certain native “chic,” approaching almost to the instinctive grace of the French woman; a certain intellectual “flair”; a “liveliness”—if I may so express it—all typical of a mixed race, still young enough to be content to imitate unconsciously the type it most admires, and being able to do so since it possesses the inherited characteristics of so many different nationalities.

This book gives us a wonderful example of representative French beauty. Note the mouth—how typical it is! The perfect poise of the head on the neck; the equally beautiful throat and shoulders. Moreover, this portrait is especially interesting, since it shows us how lovely white hair can be as the framework of a still youthful face.

To contrast the Chinese and Japanese beauties is also interesting. There is a gentle sweetness about the Japanese face which is undoubtedly appealing; but it does not compare in character with that of the Chinese lady. The contour of the Chinese face, though less round, has a straighter nose, the modelling of every feature is firmer, infinitely less flaccid. It is interesting, too, to compare the Cuban beauty with that of the Hawaiian. The latter type is less classical; there is a stronger influence of the negro in it. Indeed, the Hawaiian type of beauty may be described as being only [pg 26] just far enough removed from the negro to be pretty. In the Cuban woman the nose is more classically modelled; the whole contour of the face nearly resembles that of the European. Even in Western eyes she possesses charm.

One hardly knows how to admire the Portuguese type of beauty. It is undoubtedly striking—though, if I may so express it, the model chosen by Mr. HoppÉ seems too unapproachable to make any facile appeal. It is, however, interesting in this portrait to observe traces of the Spanish type, combined with an undoubtedly Moorish influence as seen in the way the eyes are set in the face. The eyes, indeed, are the most fascinating part of the picture. Regard them well, they are uncanny; they are almost unreal. I have seen eyes like that in crudely carved wooden idols—so primitive in their modelling, yet so extraordinarily expressive in their regard: seeing eyes with, as it were, an impenetrable blind drawn close down behind them, shutting out thought. If not the most strictly beautiful, this Portuguese type is one of the most psychologically interesting in the whole pageant of this book of beauty.

And yet, how attractive in their variety all these faces are! Could anything be more alluring than the lovely eyes, the perfectly shaped mouth of the Chilian beauty, a beauty also strongly characteristic of the Spanish type? How lovely, too, is the Greek face, with the nose, as it were, a deliberate continuation of the forehead. There is passion and grace in the Indian woman, with her lovely supple body, the expression of melancholy in her face, those exquisite velvet eyes the size of which seem almost completely to dwarf the other features!

Among such a galaxy of lovely women each man may surely find one who represents to him his physical ideal. The charm of these portraits is that each beautiful woman, typical of her race, possesses some unique beauty which belongs to her nationality alone. In each face there is a charm which more than compensates us for its deviation from the characteristics we, as Englishmen, most especially admire. He must be prejudiced indeed in favour of one type who can deny a certain loveliness to any one of them.

Very few there will surely be malcontent to leave this book to posterity as a portrait-gallery of some of the loveliest women representative of [pg 27] the world of our day. Naturally, there are other beautiful women in the world who are not included. This is one book—not a whole library! But who will dispute the right of those who do appear therein? No one—surely!

And, after all, were a Martian suddenly to descend to Earth and demand of us representatives of the finest examples of the Human Race, should we not parade before him our most beautiful women?