200

TASTE IN DRESS.

I think that we men are not very tolerant of what we call the weaknesses of women, but in which, after all, lies much of their strength. The commonest complaint of all is, that they are "fond of dress." For my own part, I would not give much for a woman who is not fond of dress. Nor would I care much to know a man indisposed to encourage this feminine fondness. instinct is to feel towards the chosen one an The true knightly unfailing desire

"To compass her with sweet observances,

To dress her beautifully, and keep her true."

I can hardly conceive any greater delight for an honest, loving gentleman, than to do these good works and to mark their results. And it is to be said that in many, if not in most instances, the desire to dress well is only a desire to please. As between husband and wife, carelessness in dress is one of the first indications of declining affection. And even if, as sometimes happens, the love of dress is, for the most part, a desire to outshine other women, it is natural, indeed a harmless emulation. If women have no nobler ambitions, it is mainly the fault of the men. If they cannot speak each other down in debate, they may dress each other down in society. It may be said that victory depends in such a case upon the husband's purse or the dressmaker's art, not upon the genius of the competitor. But this is true only in a limited sense. No amount of money to buy clothes, and no skill in the artist who makes them, can compensate for the want of taste in the wearer. Taste in dress commonly indicates a general sense of the becoming in all domestic concerns. The Frenchman who wrote a treatise, "The Duty of a Pretty Woman to look Pretty," did not address himself to the discussion of a mere frivolity. There was an under-current of philosophy beneath it.

Anon.

discloses :

made.

AMIABILITY AND BEAUTY.

Women, so amiable in themselves, are never so amiable as when they are useful; and as for beauty, though men may fall in love with girls at play, there is nothing to make them stand to their love like seeing them at work. Cobbett.

HOMAGE TO BEAUTY.

Beasts should do Homage to man, but man shall wait on you : You are of comelier sight, of daintier touch, A tender flesh, and colour bright, and such As Parians see in marble; skin more fair, More glorious head, and far more glorious hair;

Eyes full of grace and quickness; purer roses Blush in your cheeks, a milder white composes

Your stately fronts; your breath, more sweet than his,

Breathes spice, and nectar drops at every kiss. Randolph.

BRIGHT EYES THE BEST JEWELS. A pair of bright eyes with a dozen glances suffice to subdue a man; to enslave him and inflame him, to make him even forget; they dazzle him so that the past becomes straightway dim to him; and he so prizes them that he would give all his life to possess them. What is the fondest love of dearest friends compared with this treasure! Is memory as strong as expectancy? fruition as hunger? gratitude as desire? I have looked at royal diamonds in the jewel-rooms in Europe, and thought how wars have been made about them; Mogul sovereigns deposed and strangled for them, or ransomed with them; millions expended to buy them; and daring lives in digging out the little shining toys that I value no more than the button in my hat. And so there are other glittering baubles (of rare water too) for which men have been set to kill and quarrel ever since mankind began; and which last but for a score of years, when their sparkle is over. Where are those jewels now that beamed under Cleopatra's forehead, or shone in the sockets of Helen? Thackeray.

A QUEENLY CLAIM TO LIVE ADMIRED.
By meekness charm'd, or proud to allow
A queenly claim to live admired,
Full many a lady has ere now

My apprehensive fancy fired,
And woven many a transient chain;
But never lady like to this,
Who holds me as the weather-vane
Is held by yonder clematis.
She seems the life of nature's powers;
Her beauty is the genial thought
Which makes the sunshine bright; the
flowers,

But for their hint of her, were nought. Coventry Patmore.

A PORTRAIT.

Oh, what a likeness! is the gazer's cry.

There is the faultless oval of the face, The lofty brow and the commanding eye, The raven tress, the expression's thoughtful

grace,

The noble figure, and the high-born mien,
Whose dignity might well become a queen.

Oh, what a likeness! E'en in the dress
The fair original we recognize,
Whose rare propriety shuns each excess

Of fashion's jewell'd or familiar guise.
At court, at home, in park, or in the dance,
Unrivall'd still in tasteful elegance.

Yet how unlike! The engraver's happiest art Shows but the beauty of the form-rot mind:

The social kindness prompted by the heart, The frank good sense, the cheerfulness

refined:

A SMILE OF THINE IS LIKE AN ACT
OF GRACE.

Thou art a girl of noble nature's crowning,
A smile of thine is like an act of grace;
Thou hast no noisome looks, no pretty
frowning,

Like daily beauties of a vulgar race;
When thou dost smile, a light is on thy face,
A clear, cool kindliness, a lunar beam
Of peaceful radiance, silvering o'er the stream
Of human thought with beauteous glory,
Not quite a waking truth, nor quite a dream,
A visitation-bright though transitory.
Hartley Coleridge.

BEAUTY'S MAGIC SPELL.

Tell me, Beauty, what art thou,
What is then thy magic spell?
Thou, before whom myriads bow,

Goddess bright, where dost thou dwell?

Dwell'st thou in the raven tress,

Dark as midnight's jetty dye,
In the cheek's bright roseate bloom,
In the dark and brilliant eye?

Tell me, Beauty, tell me true,

Lurk'st thou in the dimpled smile? In the light and graceful form

Does thy witching power beguile?

No, ah no! in these alone,

Beauty, thou canst never dwell: 'Tis in bright Expression's beam That is found thy magic spell.

And in vain the sparkling eye,

And the cheek so bright and fair; These can never, never charm,

If expression dwell not there. But when in the eye's bright flash We can see the spirit speak, And each passion of the soul

Painted on the glowing cheek; When, in every feature, shine Genius bright and fancy's fire, Where is he, so cold, so dead, Who can gaze and not admire?

THE ROSE HUMBLED.

Landon.

I grant thee, most delicious rose,
Profusely gay thy beauty glows;
To thee the flow'rets of the field,
Most sovereign rose, their homage yield;
Such are, I grant, thy fragrant gales,
As Mira's balmy lip exhales:
Yet boast not, till, like her, thou bear
Thy bloom and sweetness all the year!
From the Persian.

BEAUTY'S HELPED BY NATURE,

HEAVEN, AND LOVE.

And forth she went, a shop for merchandise, Full of rich stuff, but none for sale exposed; A veil obscured the sunshine of her eyes: The rose within herself her sweetness closed.

Each ornament about her seemly lies,

By curious chance or careless art composed;

For what she most neglects most curious

prove―

So beauty's help'd by nature, heaven, and love. Tasso.

LOVELINESS UNADORNED.

Loveliness

Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is, when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most. Thomson.

LIKE A SWEET PICTURE.

And the smile brightens on the lovely face
That greets them in succession as they come
Into that high and hospitable home.
Like a sweet picture doth the lady stand,
Still blushing as she bows; one tiny hand,
Hid by a pearl-embroider'd gauntlet, holds
Her whip and her long robe's exuberant folds.
The other hand is bare, and from her eyes
Shades now and then the sun, or softly lies,
With a caressing touch, upon the neck
Of the dear glossy steed she loves to deck
With saddle-housings work'd in golden thread,
And golden bands upon his noble head.
White is the little hand whose taper fingers
Smooth his fine coat,--and still the lady
lingers,

Leaning against his side, nor lifts her head,
But gently turns as gathering footsteps tread;
Reminding you of doves, with shifting throats
Brooding in sunshine by their sheltering cotes.
Under her plumèd hat her wealth of curls
Falls down in golden links among the pearls,
And the rich velvet of her velvet vest
Skims the young waist and rounds the
graceful breast.

Hon. Mrs. Norton.

GOVERNED WITH GOODLY MODESTY.

Her sad eyes, still fasten'd on the ground,
Are govern'd with goodly modesty,
That suffers not one look to glance awry
Which may let in a thought unsound.
Spenser.

"I seek a strength devout, majestical,

A resolute deep steadfastness of soul, In him to whom my spirit once for all Yields up its treasure whole.

"But thou art wild, impetuous as a girl; Thou wouldst unseat me from my queenly place,

And whirl me down, as shallow eddies whirl The bubbles at their base;

"Nor hast thou yet consider'd what thou

art

How far from peace, from godliness, from
Home,

Nor spoken softly to thy listening heart
Concerning things to come.

"Go: look on life without me, till thou know, After the sure sad discipline of years,

Its vernal beauty underneath its snow,
Its blue behind its tears;

“Till, as from each fair meadow thou hast trod,

Each morning valley wreathed in cloudy calm,

So from thine own hot heart, goes up to God One sweet confiding psalm.

"Go-but forget not: when the last degree Of self-control is reckon'd on thy brow, Come back; and I will keep for thee and me A love thou know'st not now." Arthur 7. Mundy.

A HEART SERENE WITHIN ITS ZONE. She gazed upon a world she scarcely knewAs seeking not to know it; silent, lone, As grows a flower, thus quietly she grew,

And kept her heart serene within its zone. There was awe in the homage which she drew;

Her spirit seem'd as seated on a throne Apart from the surrounding world, and strong In its own strength-most strange in one so young. Byron.

STORMS AND SUNSHINE.

Women, like summer storms, awhile are cloudy,

Burst out in thunder, and impetuous showers; But straight the sun of beauty dawns abroad, And all the fair horizon is serene. Rowe.