THE LOVE-LETTER.

"J'ai vu les mœurs de mon temps, et j'ai publié cette lettre." LA NOUVELLE HÉLOISE.

IF this should fail, why then I scarcely know

What should succeed. Here's brilliancy (and banter), Byron ad lib., a chapter of Rousseau ;—

If this should fail, then tempora mutantur; Style's out of date, and love, as a profession, Acquires no aid from beauty of expression.

"The men who think as I, I think, are few,"

(Cynics would say 'twere well if they were fewer); "I am not what I seem ',"-(indeed, 'tis true; Though, as a sentiment, it might be newer); "Mine is a soul whose deeper feelings lie More deep than words "-(as these exemplify).

"I will not say when first your beauty's sun
Illumed my life," (it needs imagination);
For me to see you and to love were one,”-
(This will account for some precipitation);
"Let it suffice that worship more devoted
Ne'er throbbed," et cetera. The rest is quoted.

"If Love can look with eyes prophetical,”

(Ah, if he could, how many would be single!), "If truly spirit unto spirit call,”—

(The ears of some most terribly must tingle !) "Then I have dreamed you will not turn your face." This next, I think, is more than common-place.

"Why should we speak, if Love, interpreting,
Forestall the speech with favour found before?
Why should we plead ?—it were an idle thing,
If Love himself be Love's ambassador!"
Blot, as I live. Shall we erase it? No ;-
It shows we write currente calamo.

"To you my fate, my fortune, I commit,”-
(In point of fact, the last is not extensive);
"Without you I am poor indeed,”—(omit,

"Tis true but crude-'twould make her apprehensive); "My life is yours-I lay it at your feet,”— (Having no choice but Hymen or the Fleet).

"Give me the right to stand within the shrine, Where never yet my faltering feet intruded; Give me the right to call you wholly mine,”

(Id est, Consols and Three-per-cents included); "To guard your rest from every care that cankers, To keep your life,"-(and balance at your bankers).

Suspense makes havoc with the mind "-(and muscles); "Winged Hope takes flight," (that means that I must fly, Default of funds, to Paris or to Brussels);

"I cannot wait! My own, my queen-Priscilla ! Write by return." And now for a Manilla!

"Miss Blank," at "Blank." Jemima, let it go,
And I, meanwhile, will idle with "Sir Walter;"
Stay, let me keep the first rough copy, though-
"Twill serve again. There's but the name to alter,
And Love, that needs, must knock at every portal,
In forma pauperis. We are but mortal!

AUSTIN DOBSON.

HEAD-DRESSES.

PART I.-FORM.

A WOMAN'S head-dress may not be so important as her head; but there can be no doubt that what she chooses to wear on her head, and the way in which she chooses to wear it, vastly affect her personal appearance for better or worse.

As this is an age when ladies receive from the sterner sex profuse hints for the cultivation of their brains, it can hardly be considered presumption if one of their own sex venture to give them a few hints about something exterior to the brain, but which ought never to be independent of it-namely, their head-dresses.

Since we desire to persuade, let us invert the stern moral order which some writers on Art would doubtless adopt, and let us suggest that a head-dress must be, first, becoming, second, beautiful, and third, useful.

I put last that quality which naturally ought to come first, because we have quitted the primitive idea of what a head-dress should be. Of course, its first object was either to shield from cold or to shelter from heat, but the second quality almost immediately apparent was that a head-dress has a powerful effect on the face in either beautifying it or the reverse. And the whole recognised tone of modern fashions is such that no woman would ever adopt for its usefulness what was not becoming, while she would gladly sacrifice her own comfort to what she calls her" looks ;" and she would not necessarily be wrong, if she only knew a little more about the matter, and could sometimes see herself as others see her. But because women as a rule do not know what beauty means, do not consider that the "fitting" and "appropriate" have always their part in what is really beautiful, therefore they catch at whatever presents itself as a novelty. "Oh," they say, "I never looked like this before! What a change-how delightful!" but they do not pause to think whether the old fashion became them better-whether the new one reveals more clearly the slight shrinking of the jaw or spoils the pretty colour still blooming in the cheek.

Women usually like something which gives them height, piquancy, and above all conspicuousness. They are not to be blamed for this. A woman's rôle is to attract, and, when she has attracted, to enchant. But in following this aim too zealously, she often outruns the scent by a long way, after the fashion of young and inexperienced hounds. A woman ought never to forget that sometimes in gaining a little

she loses much. As for instance when the hair a few years ago was turned up with a sweep, and the bonnet dwindled to a tuft, every woman gladly threw aside the "curtain" which had shielded her throat from the sun, and every woman lost her white neck. Again, when a little hat was worn like a round target against a mountain, women said they were going to shade their eyes, but in reality they only sacrificed the whole of the forehead and eyebrows (usually the best part of the face) to the most unmeaning saucer that ever rested on a snub.

First, then, a head-dress should set off, and should draw the eye to, the noblest portions of the face. It ought to conceal a bad outline; it should display a fine one; it should in colour enhance the complexion, whatever it may be; it should not deform the shape of the head; and it should throw up the hair.

Secondly, it ought of course to be a pretty object in itself, and made of handsome materials. It occupies the place of honour in the whole toilette, and is not, like the skirt, liable to collect the dirt of the ground, nor, like the bodice, apt to be hidden under a bushel; it is always conspicuous, and has a character to keep up. It might therefore with propriety be the most expensive part of the attire.

Thirdly, and in addition, we may just hint-we hope without offence that if it can be useful and comfortable, it is just as well.

Can we not imagine some head-gear that might satisfy all three of the above demands? Can we not, by studying the pictures of the finest masters, and the costumes of distant climes, discover some that have done so or (since a violent wrench from all connection with modern customs would be too much to expect of fashion and her votaries) may we not gather some hints by which we might mould our present head-gear into a more beautiful and fitting form, and adapt it first to the faces of the fair wearers and then to purposes of utility? There are many races among whom, though they must be called nearly savage, the hair-dressing is of so ingenious and permanent a nature that it serves the purpose of a cap or hat. Livingstone and other writers tell us of people, whose hair in childhood, when it is scanty, is considered in déshabille, but as it lengthens is gradually woven into peculiar forms which are never unloosed, and only at ripe age does the elaborate construction become perfect. It takes from five to ten years (I quote from memory) to dress the hair. By that time it presents the appearance of a cap or helmet of close matted fabric decorated with beads and birds' feathers, and no extra protection is necessary, except perhaps an occasional broad leaf, as an umbrella when the sun is very hot.

But these are not cases which would fairly come under our notice in this place, nor would they help us much in our pursuit of beauty We must discuss head-dressing apart from hair-dressing, and we may return to the latter by-and-by.

The turban is an old institution-as old probably as any head-gear we can find; and it has many merits. In the first place it has that of bringing into close contact with the face some one colour or combination of colours, which at once gives character to the whole face, and in most cases improves the features. Unless the latter be very coarse or irregular, a turban, when not too heavy, usually has a good effect. It requires, however, to be put on with great care and grace, and the countenance should be well studied before its exact position is finally fixed. Guido probably felt the peculiar charm of the turban when he placed one upon the quiet melancholy head of Beatrice Cenci. There is a pathetic dignity in that face which is enhanced by this head-dress, and which would certainly be impaired if any other cap were substituted. We could scarcely find a better example of an effective turban.

The turban has, however, the disadvantage of generally concealing the hair; and though it was much in vogue fifty years ago with old and middle-aged ladies, it has never become a favourite with the young, who justly feel that they have only a few years to display those luxuriant tresses, which are certainly the most natural and appropriate ornaments of a youthful face. And yet in cases where the hair is not too beautiful and luxuriant to be dispensed with, a craftily-disposed turban would be a far more picturesque and seemly ornament than half a bushel of borrowed hair. Would that the young girls of the present day had the taste and valour even to try something new, that would not be at the same time absurd!

The ancient Romans appear to have consulted utility alone in their choice of head-gear; but in their grand and simple costume beauty came unsought. They had hats for travelling, and they also wore them while sitting in the theatre, to shade them from the burning sun; but on ordinary occasions they wore no covering on their heads; they walked abroad as free in attire as they were within their houses; on emergency they could always draw the graceful toga over them, and we may still see statues of their stately forms with the long folds reaching from the head to the feet, and following every movement of the frame as they fell.

If we confine ourselves to English fashions, we of course find our first ancestors clothed in the Roman dress, or something very like it-tunic, stola, and toga-the long folds fastened by fibulæ, and the cloak pulled over the head like a hood, other head-coverings being very rare. Later in the Saxon time, the hood or "head-rail" had become detached from the main garment, but was an indispensable part of the dress, females of all ranks being seldom or never seen. without it, and even royal ladies wearing it under their crowns. But this was too good to last, and too good to hope to revive.

The Normans brought in the fashion of long plaits of hair, reaching to the hips, and sometimes bound with ribbons or encased in silk of