ugly when they are dressed, there is undoubtedly a fashion now of disfiguring French children, which is called dressing them, and which makes them look fifty times uglier than nature has made them, though the exertions of nature in that respect have been tolerably considerable. The poor little creatures look as if all their hair had been grasped up by some horrible straining engine, and dragged as nearly as possible off their head, in order to be screwed down in a knot at the back. It is as bad as a shaved head, with the addition of suggesting, by sympathy, a sense of pain from the violent dragging of the hair which is made perceptible. It is plain that there is something not exactly as it should be in the Government of the French, or this hideousness would ere now have been suppressed by statute or by ordonnance.

Now as to the very very long gowns, which sweep not only ball-rooms, but promenades, in these times, it must be confessed that such as have unproducible ankles show a good taste in adopting them, and a laudable perseverance in encouraging their adoption by others. When the fox lost his tail in a trap, he persuaded all his friends that to be in the fashion they should get rid of their tails. Doubtless had his misfortune been that of having another tail stiched on to his own, he would have brought tails into fashion as long as the trains of 1839. I I propose

that any lady having a certificate from her doctor that the exposure of the smallest portion of instep or ankle would not be for the good of her health, should have a license to bury them in the oblivion of several yards of velvet, satin, or muslin, as the case may be; the license, however, not to extend so far as to give them an action of damages against trespassers upon their garments, if not approaching nearer than within three feet six inches of the wearers thereof.

It is not by any means my wish to see the liberality of some years ago imitated now, and I think all persons should so accommodate themselves to the fashion as to wear gowns which come down at least within sight of the ground; but assuredly the length to which these garments are now carried cannot be said to be necessary to more than a few, nor are they becoming to all.

As touching the highly important and interesting article of bonnets, it is not to be questioned that to some charming little heads, with faces radiant and brilliant as an opening rose on a bright June morning, the bonnet of the present day is extremely becoming; but it is equally certain that some countenances are more bewitching when shaded in the delightful mystery of a deep bonnet, destructive though it be to the prospects of collateral inquisitiveness.

In brief-for were I to touch upon all the

points which start up before me, and not inappropriately either, to the present theme, I might talk on for hours-in brief, I would have my fair friends to proceed, in respect of dress, according to the analogy of Mr. Pope's advice about building and garden making

"Consult the genius of the place in all."

Let those who dress consult the genius of the face in all, and not only this, but the figure, and the natural air and disposition. But let us have a few lines more of Mr. Pope—

"To build, to plant, whatever you intend,
To rear the column or the arch to bend,
To swell the terrace, or to sink the grot,
In all, let Nature never be forgot:
But treat the goddess like a modest fair,
Nor over dress, nor leave her wholly bare;
Let not each beauty every where be spied,
Where half the skill is decently to hide;
He gains all points who pleasingly confounds,
Surprises, varies, and conceals the bounds."

And again, hear the same judicious gentle

man

"Still follow sense, of every art the soul,
Parts answering parts shall slide into a whole;
Spontaneous beauties all around advance,
Start e'en from difficulty, strike from chance;
Nature shall join you-time shall make it grow
A work to wonder at."

Alas! no: the analogy stops there; time may add to the beauty of gardens, but there is

another sort of beauty in which we disclaim his aid.

And this puts me in mind of a class of persons whose attention to dress is any thing but skilful. They are generally on what is termed (perhaps erroneously) the wrong side of thirtyfive, and being of a mathematical or arithmetical turn of mind, are betrayed into the following error. They know that the drawing-room beauty of a person of eighteen is made up partly of that freshness and brilliancy which belongs to youth, and partly of the dressing which is appropriate to that rosy time of life. Knowing also that with respect to themselves, one of the component parts of this beauty, to wit, the youthfulness, has unfortunately gone away, they think to wake up the same whole, by adding to the youthfulness of dress. This may be very good arithmetic, but it is unquestionably bad dressing. The extremes meet, but they do not blend. They stand out in offensive contrast. The better plan would be to dress beyond "a certain age" rather than below it, as those of a dark complexion think it prudent to wear still darker clothes. As a point of art, therefore, the youthful dressing of those who are no longer youthful is an unmitigated mistake-as an affair of mental taste it is excessively odious-but one must not be too didactic. I am not quite sure, that I ought to have ventured to talk about dress at all: mais n'importe; 'tis done now, and

here is a stanza which any one may sing at me who is in the humour:

"But Reason his head-dress so awkwardly wore,
That beauty now liked him still less than before;
While Folly took
Old Reason's book,

And twisted the leaves in a cap of such ton,
That Beauty vow'd
(Though not aloud)

She liked him still better in that than his own."

READING FOR LADIES.

HAVE the novels of Sir Walter Scott done any harm to society? Perhaps they have, even from their very excellence. This will seem a paradox, but so do many true things, until by a closer examination we find that to be sequential, which at first sight appeared to be contradictory. Such is the excellence of Sir Walter Scott's novels-so free from all impurity-so full of animating description and elevating sentiment, that they did a great deal towards removing the wholesome prejudice, or precautionary suspicion, regarding that class of books, which at one time, and that not very long ago, prevailed in well brought up families.

Sir Walter prodigiously raised the character of novels, but he could not bequeath that power to his successors in novel writing, which would have made novels continue to be worthy of the character which he imparted to them. Instead