down in a remote part of the country, he had not expected, and the blow was proportionably severe.

Sir Walter advanced to Lucy however, and though his voice shook a little, his How-d'yes had all the fond friendliness of old times-perhaps a little more. Lucy dropped the dragoon, and was in the middle of a recapitulation to Sir Walter of a letter she had received that morning from Elizabeth, when dinner was announced. The officer, who had been during this time, to use a most expressive Scottish phrase, "like a hen on a het girdle," then stepped forward, and stretching forth a pinion towards Lucy, muttered, "Permit me"I believe, Sir," said Sir Walter, "I have the privilege of ancienneté-I am an older friend." So saying, he offered his arm to Lucy, who, slightly bowing to the petrified equestrian, passed on with Sir Walter.

The presence, however, of this puppy was a constant blister to poor Sir Walter's feelings-though he kept a perfect command over his temper. "The fellow is handsome, there's no denying it,"-thus argued Sir Walter, who, not being able to rate him as a Cyclops, chose to consider him an Apollo at once-"he wears moustaches, and belongs to a crack corps--and he is always at Lucy's ear;

I fear this blank was filled up with an expletive not fitting to be written in these delicate times, but which may be considered as invoking upon the head of the unhappy bestrider of chargers a very hearty curse. The real fact was, Sir Walter had before his mind the constant consciousness that this man was fifteen or sixteen years younger than himself, and this was worm-wood to him. It is true, that Lucy gave him no encouragement-but the fellow's coolness and assurance were such that he did not seem to need any-but went on as though he was received in the most favorable manner possible. Once or twice, indeed, he was protected from annihilation by that shield thicker far than the seven-fold buckler of Ajax-namely, that of perfect and unshaken ignorance. Otherwise had a shaft from "quaint Ariel's" bow slain him more than once.

Sir Walter could not long endure this feverish state of existence. It need, therefore, cause no very great surprise that on the fifth morning of his visit—when the soldier had been peculiarly pugnacious the evening before-he said to her—“Lucy, I want to have a long conversation with you, put on your capote, and come and walk with me along the river." She complied frankly, and at once.

And now the single-heartedness and open manliness of Sir Walter's character were most conspicuous. He was placed in a situation in which many men of far greater commerce with the world and with women lose all selfpossession, and behave like ninnies. He, on the contrary, under the strong and steady impulse of a pure and generous passion, spoke, with gentleness indeed, but clearly, firmly, and straight-forwardly.

"Lucy," he said, “I think you will feel great surprise at what I am going to say to you. I myself, indeed, feel great surprise that I should have it to say. Two months ago, I would not have believed it possible, and yet it is the work of years. Lucy, I love you; not with that brotherly affection which bound us with Elizabeth in such sweet union at Arlescot-but with a love in comparison with which that is pale and poor-I love you, with as fervent and as fond a passion as man can bear towards woman. It is only since my sister's marriage that I have known this-but I now know that the sentiment has existed long-long. Oh, Lucy! you cannot conceive my desolate state of feeling

when I found myself suddenly cut off from your society-I felt I feel that I cannot live without you." He paused for a moment to collect himself-he found that the violence of what he felt had carried him beyond what he had intended. Lucy spoke not. She kept her eyes upon the ground -her cheek was flushed-and the hand which rested on Sir Walter's arm, slightly trembled. He continued. “But I must not suffer my feelings to run away with me thus---I must first learn what you feel. I am aware, perfectly aware, of all the disadvantages under which I labour. The close friendship which binds you to my sister cannot conceal the fact that I am more than twenty years older than you are; or that you may possibly consider my disposition too staid to harmonize with yours. But yet they never jarred," he added in a softer and more broken tone-"we have passed happy days together-and, could you feel aught approaching to that which has gained possession of my whole soul, those days might be renewed with tenfold happiness. At all events, do not reject my suit hastily. Pause before you destroy for ever the visions of joy which my busy thoughts, almost against my will, have woven for us—at least consider what I have said."

"Sir Walter," answered Lucy, in a voice in which resolution and agitation struggled hard for mastery-"this conduct is like all your actions, candid, manly, noble. I will strive to return frankness with frankness, and to throw aside all petty evasions, as you have done. In the first place, what you have said has not caused me surprise. I have been prepared for it since your first visit here, after my return from Arlescot-and I then saw that I ought to have had nothing to learn on that score since the ball on Bessy's wedding night. Sir, I hope these acknowledgments are not unmaidenly-I hope not, for they are the truth. I then did feel surprise-surprise that one like Good Sir Walter Meynell should feel interest of this nature for such a wild, thoughtless, giddy girl as I am. Next it made me feel proud, that, with all my thoughts, such a man should have cast his eyes upon me; and, lastly, the crowd of old recollections which flooded my heart and mind, made me feel that my best and dearest happiness had been known at Arlescot-and that while I had long felt towards its owner as a dear brother, a short time would enable me to love, as well as respect, him as a husband. You see," she added in a tone scarcely audible, "you see I am frank, indeed."

I don't know whether my readers will be surprised at this-but, mutatis mutandis, the same causes had worked the same effect upon Lucy as they had upon Sir Walter.— She had been deeply touched by his manner, during the interval between the announcement and the celebration of Elizabeth's marriage. She saw plainly what pain the general break-up of their intercourse and all their habits of daily life gave him, and it was by no means with a light heart that she had left Ariel's bower for the last time. She knew that it probably was not the last time in reality, inasmuch as when Elizabeth came to Arlescot, she would of course be there; but still she felt that it was for the last time, as regarded the lang syne tone and footing to which she had been habituated for so many happy years. "Dear, Good Sir Walter," she had said to herself, as her carriage drove from the door "well may they call him so-for, certainly, never did a better heart beat within a human bosom. Alas! for the dear days of Arlescot-I shall see them no more!" It was on Sir Walter's visit, that the tone of voice which I noted so minutely, and his general manner, opened Lucy's

eyes to the whole truth; they might have opened the eyes of the blind. Her surprise was extreme. "Can it really be?" thought she-"Oh no-I am deceiving myself—it is only the additional kindness of manner which an absence after such a parting would naturally give. But if it should be-." And she proceeded to sift and analize her feelings as regarded him. The result of that self-examination we have already seen in her frank avowal to Sir Walter.

The effect of this frankness upon him it is not for me to paint. We will leave them to that most delicious of lovers' conversations-the "comparing notes," of the dates and progress of their affection.

It was just a month after Elizabeth's wedding that Sir Walter brought his bride home to Arlescot. Elizabeth herself was there to welcome her, and never did welcome spring more strongly from the heart. The idea of the union of her brother with her friend had never crossed her mind-but, when he wrote to inform her of his approaching marriage, she was in amazement that she had not always desired and striven to unite them.

"Here is her bower, decked for Ariel" said Sir Walter, as he led his bride into this loved chamber, which was now changed from a bedroom to a boudoir. She started: in addition to her favorite flowers growing in their accustomed beds, and her drawings of Arlescot, which were mounted in splendid frames, there was over the chimney-piece a full length portrait of herself, as Ariel, mounting into the air, after her freedom has been given to her by Prospero.*

"How beautiful!" she exclaimed, in the first moment of her surprise-but then recollecting the interpretation her words might bear, she added quickly, and with blushes, “I mean the painting."

"It is all beautiful!" said Sir Walter. "How often have I seen you look exactly thus as you have sung 'Merily, merily,' and I have almost thought you would rise into the air."

"I will change the word to 'Happily,' now," said Lucy, in a low tone, "and you need not fear that I should wish to leave the blossoms of this bower.-But hark! I hear music." "Yes!" said Sir Arthur Leonard, who looked from the window-"there are the maidens of the village come to strew flowers for you to walk on as you go to the chapeland there is old Crompton, with his followers at their head. You hear what tune it is he is playing to herald you to your bridal."

"Certainly I do," answered Lucy, in a low tone, ""Good Sir Walter !'

This picture is not in the gallery at Arlescot-but at Wilmington-which has descended to the heirs of the second son of the marriage here spoken of, who succeeded to his mother's property, and took the name of Adair. Sir Edward is always trying to persuade his cousin to let him have the picture, but he is inexorable. I think they are both quite right.-A. St. J.

ON IMPROVEMENTS IN LONDON.

The population of London is so great, that the following remarks, which have especial reference to the health of its inhabitants, will hardly be deemed a departure from that generality which pervades this work; the more so as most of them are equally applicable to other large towns.

A dramatic writer has called London the fons delectabilis, but I should like to see it deserve the appellation of fons salutaris also; and it is gratifying to know that every change which adds to its external attractions, contributes to its healthiness at the same time. It has been said, "See Paris, and die," as if the sight of that city were the supremest enjoyment in which man could participate; but I would much rather have said, "See London, and live," and live happily and joyously too. Napoleon called us a nation of shopkeepers, meaning to reproach us with a sordid devotion to mere commerce, and with incapacity for comprehending the loftier pleasures derivable from the triumphs of art: but I doubt not yet to see the time when this reproach shall be utterly inapplicable to England; already we have made great progress in a better state of things, and no limit can be set to our progression.

Many improvements have within the last few years been effected in the metropolis; all of which have added to its salubrity, and rendered it a more agreeable place of residence. As a proof of this, I have been informed that many tradesmen who used to reside at a short distance from town, have come to live in London at their places of business, whereby much time and expense is saved. Among the improvements may be mentioned the widening of streets, the opening of parks and other healthy places of public resort, and the practice of building houses round large open spaces. There is yet much to be done, however, before it can be said that London is as healthy as man can make it; and I am now about to direct the attention of my readers to some of the more important, yet easily to be accomplished, improvements of which it is susceptible.

The subject that first demands our attention is the mode in which London is supplied with water.

The Thames is the principal source of the supply; and its water, if drawn from a proper spot, would be as good as could be desired; but, strangely enough, the companies which monopolise the sale of this important element, take it from a part of the river which receives all the impurities of the mighty city, and where it is asserted that fish cannot exist. This is the first evil to be removed. The wants of the metropolis could not be supplied without resorting to the Thames; but there is no necessity for using its corrupted waters. Why should not we go a few miles above London, and draw the needful supplies from the river before it reaches the city?

A project recently set on foot would, if executed, do much to obviate the inconveniences of the present system: I allude to the plan for forming a vast receptacle for the contents of the common sewers, &c. &c. along the whole banks of the river; this would doubtless improve the quality of the water: the other part of the project, viz. the construction of open walks and terraces by the river-side, would also be a great change for the better, improving the appearance and increasing the healthiness of the city.

But supposing the water to be derived from an entirely unexceptionable source, much would still remain to be done. The mode of its distribution to, and of its reception in,

dwelling-houses, has an important effect upon its quality. It is at present conveyed by leaden pipes either into

leaden cisterns or wooden casks. Water contains carbonic acid gas; this acting upon lead forms carbonate of lead, a white powder, which being conveyed in small quantities with the water to the stomach, acts as a slow poison, affecting the digestive organs, producing dyspepsia, and finally terminating in nervous apoplexy or paralysis.

If the water be received into casks, the result is not much better. Unless the casks are charred, the water decomposes the surface of the wood; inflammable air is generated; and this poison is held by the water in solution for a time, until part of it escapes in the form of gas, and the rest falls to the bottom as dirt.

It is an established fact, that the best material for forming vessels to contain water, is iron. Iron tanks have for several years been used in ships with the greatest advantage and there is no reason why iron cisterns should not be substituted on land for lead cisterns and wooden casks.

Of whatever materials the receptacles for water may be formed, they should be often emptied and carefully cleansed. The purest water must frequently contain clay and other earths; these are deposited, and in time, if suffered to remain, become animalised; hence, be the water supplied ever so pure, it must speedily be contaminated. For the same reason, it would be better that a fresh supply should be furnished every day, even though each supply were smaller than at present, rather than (as is generally the case now) only twice or thrice a-week.

There is another mode by which an abundant supply of the purest water could be obtained, at least for drinking in any form, as for making tea, coffee, &c. which at the same time would greatly add to the beauty of the metropolis. I mean the erection of ornamental fountains, which, giving out constant streams of spring-water, would impart an appearance of coolness which is very refreshing in the sultry summer months, and would materially assist in keeping clear the sewers, into which the superfluous water would fall. Every person who has visited the Continent must have admired the pleasing effect produced by the fountains with which most cities there abound; and it is truly surprising that so obvious a source of beauty and ornament has been so long neglected in this country. Let us hope that in this respect we shall soon imitate our neighbours; who, on this point at least, have certainly set us an example well worthy of imitation.

It has been supposed that sufficient spring-water does not exist in the metropolis to supply the domestic wants of its inhabitants; but there appears to be no ground for this conjecture. At the Lambeth Baths, noticed in a previous part of this book, 15,000 gallons of spring-water are thrown up every hour: this fact alone might suffice to shew the incorrectness of the notion. I believe the water drawn from the wells in the city is of the very best kind: that supplied by the old Aldgate pump is famed for its excellence.

The sewerage in many parts of London is very imperfect : the public health is seriously injured by this imperfection, which, however, has of late been somewhat remedied; and will, it is to be hoped, be wholly removed when the new act of parliament on this subject comes into operation. It will enable the commissioners to compel the owners of all houses to drain the sewers as often as the public health or advantage may require them so to do. Few persons would have

imagined that there was no sewer either in Cheapside or Aldersgate Street, and yet such till lately was the fact: sewers were recently, for the first time, constructed in both these leading thoroughfares. In the Old Kent Road, in Bethnal Green, and in some parts of Westminsser, these indispensable requisites of a healthy residence are almost entirely wanting. The importance of draining and sewerage is strikingly shewn in the report of Dr. Southwood Smith respecting the causes of febrile affections, (which have for a considerable period been prevalent in Bethnal Green and Whitechapel,) appended to the last report of the poor-law commissioners:-"It appears," says this report, "that the streets, courts, alleys, and houses in which fever first breaks out and in which it becomes most prevalent and fatal, are invariably those in the immediate neighbourhood of uncovered sewers, stagnant ditches and ponds, gutters always full of putrifying matter, nightman's yards, and privies the soil of which lies openly exposed and is seldom or never removed." We are told that "a large portion of Bethnal Green is a swamp, hardly any part of which is drained;" and that "there is evidence derived from the history of these very localities, that the formation of a common-sewer, the fillingup of a ditch, the removal of stagnant water, and the drainage of houses, have rendered a district healthy, from which, before such measures were adopted, fever was never absent."

Another very useful improvement, and one easily effected, would be the addition of stench-traps to all the gratings in the streets leading into the sewers, such as are used in most private houses.

Many new facilities have of late years been given to persons residing in town, of enjoying exercise in the fresh air. Through the exertions of a few spirited individuals, the parks have been rendered far more accessible to the public than they previously were; above all, that most rural of suburban resorts, the Regent's Park, has been partly opened, and every day receives many visitors in search of health. It is to be hoped that the remaining unoccupied part of this fine healthy park will shortly be thrown open to the public without reserve, so that the foot passenger may proceed from the right of the cottage in the inner circle completely across the park towards Macclesfield Gate -this walk would be truly delightful.

Great satisfaction has been given to the lovers of outdoor exercise by the occasional playing in Kensington Gardens of the band of the Horse-guards, stationed at Knightsbridge barracks; and it is to be regretted that this amusement is so scantily furnished to the inhabitants of the metropolis. In most country towns the regimental bands play frequently; and surely London ought not to be worse off in this respect than the country. It would add much to the charms of the Regent's Park, and induce many more persons to take exercise in it than at present, were the band of the regiment stationed at the park barracks directed to play in it at stated times during fine weather. The band of the regiment stationed at the Wellington barracks might, in like manner, be directed to play in the enclosure in St. James's Park. If each of these three excellent bands were to play twice a week, from three till five in the afternoon, a most agreeable recreation would be furnished to the inhabitants of the metropolis.

Although much has been done, there is still room for improvement. On the continent, greater attention is paid to procuring places of exercise and amusement for the inhabitants of towns than in this country. There are, however,

indications that give us reason for hoping that our inferiority in this respect will not be suffered long to continue.

A short time since, an honourable member in the House of Commons moved, that in all enclosure-bills provision be made for leaving open space sufficient for the purposes of the exercise and recreation of the neighbouring population. Sir R. Peel, in supporting the motion, observed that it was most desirable that the authorities of every large manufacturing town, indeed of any town having a numerous population should have power to set apart an open space for public recreation and exercise; and he believed that there could not be a more innocent or legitimate source of amusement-a source of amusement which would be more conducive to health, or tend more to wean the humbler classes from those habits of dissipation which they sometimes contracted from the want of such places. The honourable baronet concluded by saying, that every one was pleased with the improvements that had been effected in the parks of London; and the same system should be extended to the large manufacturing towns. He should have no objection to a grant of public money, to the amount of £5,000 or £10,000 for that purpose.

In the second edition of this work I suggested the formation of a Public Botanical Garden, with hot-houses, &c. like that at Brussels, for exotic plants, such as spice trees, the bread fruit trees, &c. and pointed out as a very suitable spot for this purpose the ground in the centre of the Regent's Park, then occupied by Mr. Jenkins, under government,one of the most delightful in the park; from the mount in which there are views hardly to be surpassed for beauty; indeed, one of them might be supposed to be a hundred miles from town.

Since the publication of that edition an institution denominated "The Royal Botanic Soeiety of London" has been formed; and already ranks among its members and supporters many noblemen and scientific gentlemen. The object of this society is the establishment, within the confines of London, of extensive botanic gardens, library, museum, studio, hot houses, conservatories, &c. This plan comprises an Italian garden with raised terraces, fountains, and parterres, ornamented by balustrading, vases, figures, and works of art; with a casino at one end, and a conservatory at the other. The ground selected for the gardens is the spot pointed out as being well adapted for them, which contains eighteen acres. The plan of the society appears to be well calculated to promote the study of botany in this country; but I regret to notice that nothing is said in the prospectus concerning the admission of the public to the gardens. This I conceive is an indispensible requisite.

The gardens of the numerous squares in the metropolis are not nearly so useful as they might be, owing to the exclusive spirit in which they are managed. Why should they not be opened at stated times to the public generally, in the same way as the Temple and Lincoln's Inn Gardens? Such a measure would be of great benefit. Gardens like those of Lincoln's Inn Fields or Russell Square, might become pleasant places of resort to thousands of young people who scarcely ever see a green field. I am aware that, these gardens being private property, and intended for the use of the inhabitants of the squares, this plan could only be carried into effect with the permission and consent of the parties interested: but I should hope there would be no obstacle on their part. The number of persons frequenting these grounds is very small; those at present exclusively

entitled to do so appearing to neglect them altogether. There need be no fear, I think, that this indulgence, if granted, would be abused, or lead to the damage of the gardens.

There has been much talk lately, both in and out of parliament, about providing places for the recreation of the people. Would government object to pay a small sum for the purpose of keeping in order all the gardens that might be thus opened, and for making seats and other accommodations for the public? I should also like to see the Zoological Gardens, and all the Exhibitions, opened to the public gratuitously two or three times a-year, on the anniversaries of great national events.

The salubrity of the metropolis would be increased if the practice of interring the dead within its boundaries were abandoned. For this reason I rejoice to observe that the number of cemeteries round London is rapidly augmenting, and in a few years they will, I doubt not, entirely supersede vaults and churchyards,—a result highly desirable on many accounts. Of the moral benefits arising from the use of cemeteries, and the admission of the public into them, much might be said, the advantage in regard to health must be obvious to all. The North London Cemetery at Highgate, is perhaps, the most beautifully laid out of any yet formed, although they are all admirable places.

In enumerating the improvements that have taken place in the metropolis, as regards the health of the inhabitants, we must not omit the railroads. Some of my readers may be disposed to ask, in astonishment, what railroads have to do with health? I answer, that leaving out of view the obvious connexion between them in the facilities which railroads afford for enjoying the fresh air of the country, they have in themselves a direct influence upon health of a most beneficial nature. Dr. James Johnson, in a late number of Medico-Chirurgical Review, has the following remarks on the subject:

"Railroad-travelling possesses many peculiarities, as well as advantages, over the common modes of conveyance. The velocity with which the train moves through the air is very refreshing, even in the hottest weather, where the run is for some miles. The vibratory, or rather oscillatory motion communicated to the human frame is very different from the swinging and jolting motions of the stage-coach, and is productive of more salutary effects. It equalises the circulation, promotes digestion, tranquillises the nerves (after the open country is gained), and often causes sound sleep during the succeeding night; the exercise of this kind of travelling being unaccompanied by that lassitude, aching, and fatigue, which, in weakly constitutions, prevents the nightly repose. The railroad bids fair to be a powerful remedial agent in many ailments to which the metropolitan and civic inhabitants are subject.

"To those who are curious, and not very timid, the open carriages are far preferable to the closed ones, especially in fine weather. In bad weather, and particularly at first, invalids may travel with more advantage under cover. I have no doubt that to thousands and tens of thousands of valetudinarians in this overgrown Babylon, the run to Boxmoor or Tring and back, twice or thrice a-week, will prove a means of preserving health and prolonging life more powerful than all the drugs in Apothecaries' Hall."

So much for the mode of travelling; but the facilities which it will afford to pent-up citizens to migrate from their confined atmosphere, and dismal scenery of brick and

mortar, into the fresh free air and beautiful expanse of the country, are still more important benefits conferred by railroads. Southampton and the Isle of Wight will be as near at hand as Richmond was in days of yore; the balmy breezes and calm bays of Devonshire will be distant but a few hours' trip. Who then would deny himself the pleasure of beholding with his own eyes the beauties of his country, or pine in disease for want of healthful recreation? To a benevolent mind, the pleasure derived from travelling by railroad must be much enhanced by the consideration that the rapid, agreeable motion is produced by the action, not of sentient bone and muscle, but by that of inorganic, insensible agents.

Admirable as railroads are in most respects, it is to be deeply regretted that so many accidents, as they are termed, have occurred upon them. Most of these appear to have resulted from gross carelessnes or incapacity on the part of the conductors of the engines. A situation like this, on which so many lives depend, should be entrusted to none but men fully competent to the discharge of their duties, and of known sobriety and steadiness; it deserves to be considered, whether it would not be advisable that these engineers should be subjected to the same responsibilities as pilots of vessels ; and in cases of neglect, be dismissed from their posts, and never afterwards employed. The Railroad Companies owe it to the public and to themselves, to pay more attention to this subject than they appear to have done hitherto. Such occurrences as the collision of the trains drawn by the engines Orion and Hercules, which happened some time since on the Liverpool and Manchester line, the effects of which I witnessed, by which the engines were dashed to pieces, the trains overthrown, the banks broken down, the road stopped up for a considerable time, and great alarm spread for many miles, such occurrences, I say, cannot fail to do much injury to railroad companies. On this occasion they were luggage trains, containing merchandise only, and thus few or no lives were lost. Had they been first-class trains, the loss of life would in all probability have been awful. Since the above remarks were first published, more care appears to haye been taken on railroads; in consequence of which accidents have been of much less frequent

Occurrence.

The innumerable steam-boats plying on the river are another comparatively recent means of securing health to the metropolitans. The benefit derived from a trip for thirty miles down the river on a fine summer's day, is very great. The lively bustle of the river, the beautiful scenery on its banks, and the swift motion of the vessel through the water, all tend powerfully to alienate, for a time, the mind of the business-pressed citizen from his daily thoughts; and the refreshing breeze which is almost always on the river has a most healthful effect. By these conveyances a person may visit the sea and return to his home the same evening. By bringing men of different countries more into contact with one another, and by promoting the more complete interchange of opinion and community of feeling between the inhabitants of the same country, steam-conveyances contribute to the health by giving rise to kind mutual feelings consequent on better acquaintance with mankind, and on the dispersion of prejudices. How such a state of mind operates upon the animal economy must be sufficiently obvious to the readers of this book.-Curtis on Health.

LONDON AND PARISIAN FASHIONS.

DRESSES - Among the most still prevailing modes of ornamenting the present style of dress in the lighter fabrics, as well as those which have in some measure gone by, may be cited the application of laces and blonde in various forms, and of manufactures and periods still more various.

The fur ornaments, have, of course, very nearly disappeared with the exception of those applicable to other periods of the year, than the extremely rigorous visitations which we have lately experienced, would point out such as the swan's down, and other delicate and light textures of this kind of ornament.

Laces are also profusely worn, and equally with the light summer as with the silken and more heavy fabrics.

HATS AND CAPS We have a few novel shapes which from their lightness and elegance of construction may, with confidence, be predicted to have a more than ordinary run, though, for the most part, we must postpone the important notices to another bulletin.

A considerable deal of importance is attached in the present styles to matters considered (rather lightly it must be remarked), as of minor consequence. The tournure of a single ribbon, the inclination of a feather, the choice or position of a single field flower, in our present modes more than ever tend to give charac

ter to the costume.

The gétana coiffure of velvet, consisting of a petit band having a considerable inclination towards the back part of the head, and permitting in front a couple of deme-couronnes to be placed with very admirable effect, has been peculiarly esteemed as one of the most elegant productions of the season. The back part is embellished, when corresponding with the dress, with torsades of diamonds, from which depend in folds a demivoile of silver lace.

Another, having a golden resille and torsade of the same, terminated with acorns falling low on one side, while on the other a bouquet of flowers in the materials of the head dress, with petals of gold.

An elegant coiffure was formed of blonde, serpentining round the head in a manner to produce something of the resemblance of a crown, across part of which the hair was beautifully arranged.

MATERIALS AND COLORS.-We may be permitted at last fairly to launch out, in the application of the varieties of light and elegant fabrics, which our designers, English and Foreign, have been busily occupied in producing. In the wide field for the display of taste afforded by the fashionable and admired styles of embroidery now in vogue, we find the difficulty, not in obtaining what we want, but in fixing on a choice.

In no former period has the art of embroidery, in all its various kinds been brought to a greater degree of perfection: not only has the strictly ornamental style been varied into an infinity of forms, beautiful to the eye, and adapted to the particular class of dress, but patterns of a more complex kind, as delineations of form, or domestic or historical subjects have been attempted with

success.

And this great excellence in the art has not been confined to a few fabrics only, each or almost all may, according to the taste of the wearer, be worked into devices, considered suitable to the texture, to the fashion of the dress, or the period it is intended to represent. And this practice in the imitations of the peculiarities of syle of the various æras in fashion, has been fostered by the widely prevailing taste in the aristocratic circles of adopting the mode of costume of our ancestors, immediate and remote.

Muslins, Batistes, Indian Muslins, Tulles, Organdis, &c. are worn plain, or embellished in some of the above styles.

VARIETIES.--Collars, Colerettes, Manchettes, Mantillas, Fichus, and variously contrived ornaments in Lingerie, decorated with the most beautiful specimen of the work of the needle, are in great estimation, and this species of luxury goes so far as to eclipse