but these rarely-gifted persons are but the exceptions that prove the rule; and even in their case what Sir Philip Sidney spake is true-there is that in well-chosen surroundings

'Which doth even beauty beautify,

And most bewitch the captived eye;'

and Herrick, too, in his 'Poetry of Dress,' seems to have had an astute appreciation of how beauty may be beautified. These men lived in the sixteenth century—a time when colour in dress was still an understood and valued adjunct, and before we had learned to make our dwellings intolerable to the eye.

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An immense number of ill-tempered ugly women are ill-tempered because they are ugly. They do not know it; their friends don't understand, and make no allowances; but heavy, indeed, is the burden upon these poor women, and pernicious is its effect on their moral character very often. I have heard it said that ugly women are always bad-tempered; this is an over-statement, but there is a certain degree of truth in the saying, cruel as it is. An ugly child cares nothing for its ugliness, but when it grows older, and perceives that it lacks something which is prized and honoured, and is twitted. with the deficiency, and neglected through it, and is reminded of it every time it looks in the glass or in another face, the constant disappointment begins very

early to embitter the whole nature, and creates a melancholy shyness; and when the desire to attract awakes with years, and the young girl finds her fairer friends preferred before her, the vain endeavours to please by other means dishearten her, and she grows sarcastic, illnatured, envious of everybody, though half unconsciously; many other faults follow, and she becomes unhappy and

morose.

But one chief aim I have in writing these reflections is to prove that no woman need be ugly if she knows her points, and points of attractiveness every woman has. There is manner, there is mind, as well as physique; but whilst I should advise all women to become as intelligent and clever as they can, whether they be plain or pretty, still I wish mere beauty and the study of 'points' were made more an acknowledged and honourable art than it is, by all those to whom God has given eyes and an intelligent brain. It is not a sin or a folly to long, as every woman longs, to be lovely. She is so constituted, and her beauty is a glory to her.'

In England more than in any other country, people pretend to care nothing how they look. A foolish shame traceable to old Huguenot feeling survives, about some vague wrongness in trying to improve the looks, and a fossilised prejudice against 'vanity.' Many girls fear

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censure of this kind in England, and act stupidly in mere self-defence. If they are handsome, they surround themselves with as many disadvantages as their plainer sisters, and do their best to look their very worst; if they are ugly—well, God 'made them so,' and they have got to be content. Why not say, that as babies are born ignorant, no one is ever to educate them because God made them so'?

After all, what is vanity? If it means only a certain innocent wish to look one's best, is it not another name for self-respect and without it, what would woman be worth? If it means inordinate self-admiration (very rare among persons with some occupation) it is less wicked than absurd. We are too timid of names; but it were wise to examine our bugbears before handing them down to posterity.

The Englishwornen are considered by all nations to be among the most beautiful in the world, whilst the French are commonly far less gifted by nature, but a Frenchwoman understands how to hide her defects and enhance her beauties to a far greater extent than an Englishwoman-and this, not because her moral character is necessarily lower, but simply because she belongs to an artistic race, cultivating æsthetic tasteswhereby sculpture, and painting, and music, and beauty

within and without are regarded, not as distinct trades, as in England, but as parts of a duty owed to our fellowcreatures, and to the best that is in us.

On Some Girls.

But after reading the foregoing voluminous advice, my young lady friends may still ask the pointed and practical question-'How am I to make the best of myself?' I can only offer a few closing suggestions and episodes in the hope of applying my general rules to particular cases.

Girls may be divided into two classes-the Visible and the Invisible. A girl is Invisible when for any reason she fails to attract and to attract is the indispensable attribute of woman per se, without which she may be, no doubt, a capital individual, lay-figure, buffer, 'brick,' or anything else good in its way, but not a woman: just as a magnet that has lost its magnetism might be called a good stone, a weight, a stopper, or what not, but hardly a magnet.

But Beauty blushing unseen is a waste of wealth which political economy forbids us to sanction. To be beautiful implies to be seen, and it follows that one of women's first duties is to be visible. As I have already

observed, every woman has her points, if she knows

comment se faire voir.

There are several subdivisions of the two classes above named. Under the Class I. Visible, we place the handsome, the talented, the brilliant, the learned, and the indispensable in any way.

Under the Class II. Invisible, we place.

It is our intention here to treat chiefly of the 2nd class, as those contained in the 1st will be sure to shift for themselves: they always marry-or, at least, always can if they wish-sometimes they bud out into 'sweet girl graduates with golden hair,' or blossom on the margin of the learned professions. They are in any case always 'Visible,' and make their mark in whatsoever orbit they aspire to revolve in.

Most girls look forward to getting married. They