decreases height, and the absence of sleeves is a painful blot to an artistic eye. Few women's arms are beautiful above the elbow; fatness is not correctness of outline, as some seem to think, and if we judge English arms from Mr. Whistler's unflattered portraits, we may see they are as a rule of the skinniest. We are not like the Greeks, who made the improvement of the body their dearest study; and, not having reduced our superfluous fat, and cultivated our muscles into perfection, we ought to be careful how we expose them. A dress, high behind or on the shoulders, gives the whole height of the figure, and full sleeves are an improvement to every figure but a very stout one, just as the fashion of wearing the hair full and loose is more becoming to the face than that which scrapes it all back out of sight. The best way to decide on a really beautiful dress is by studying the pictures of the great masters of light and shade, and copying them-Vandyck, Lely, Watteau, Gainsborough, Reynolds, or Lawrence. I will now proceed to notice a few special rules.

A

CHAPTER IV.

Suitable Dresses.

S for dresses suitable to certain persons, I need say but little. There are many books on the

etiquette of dress, showing what is proper to be worn in the morning and in the evening and at noonday. A few simple hints will suffice here. Those who are very stout should wear nothing but black; those who are very thin should put a little padding in their gowns; and neither should be in the least décolletée. Perpendicular stripes in dresses give height, and increase fulness, and are therefore particularly suited to very slight, small people, and particularly unfitted for stout figures. To fair persons blue is becoming-but not every blue. Dark blue, or too brilliant a blue, is extremely unbecoming to that kind of complexion, and makes the skin yellow and the hair sandy. It is the old, pale, dull blue that really changes sand to gold.

Pink, especially the old-fashioned yellow-pink, is, when not too brilliant, becoming to all complexions, except that which goes with red hair. Light green may be safely worn by the very dark, the very rosy, and by the very pale when the skin is extremely clear; but to ordinary English faces it is a trying colour, though there are people who look well in nothing else. Green, mixed properly with pale blue, is very becoming indeed. Grey is the most beautiful colour for old and young-I mean the soft silver grey which is formed by equal parts of black and white, with no touch of mauve in it. It admits of any colour in trimming, and throws up the bloom of the skin. Rose-colour, for some people, is pretty, and not unbecoming. White, so disastrous to rooms, is generally becoming in dress-only very coarse complexions are spoilt by it.

Short women should never wear double skirts or tunics they decrease the height so much; unless, indeed, the tunic is very short, and the skirt very long. So also do large, sprawling patterns used for trimmings; let these be left to women tall enough to carry them off. Neither let a very little woman wear her hair half down her back; let her lift it clean up as high as possible.

Large feet should never be cased in kid-least of all, white kid slippers-for kid reveals so clearly the form

and movements of the feet, and stretches so easily, that few feet have a chance in them. Black stockings and shoes, even for evening wear, are the most appropriate choice.

Extravagance.

Although I have been dealing with the moralities of dress, I have not said a word about extravagance. That is a most important subject, no doubt, and one which everybody is bound to settle for herself. But the whole morality of luxury is quite a separate branch, and must be separately discussed.

Ladies are accused of spending too much on their dress: my point is, that' whether they spend little or much, they may lay their money out on right—or wrong -artistic principles. A woman who understands and knows how to apply a few general principles, such as I have tried to point out, may often spend half as much as her friend who gives herself over to her dressmaker and empties her purse by exhausting the last fashionbook.

We are told again that ladies think too much about. dress I should say they think too little, or rather they don't think at all. If they thought a little more about dress, they would waste less time, and probably spend less money; but the result would be grace, harmony, and

expressiveness, instead of those astonishing combinations which rob the fairest women of half their charms, and expose ruthlessly the weak points of their less favoured sisters.

We are most anxious that women should devote, not less time, less money, less study, to the art of self-adornment, but even more, if the results are proportionately better. We are anxious that a pretty girl should make the very utmost of herself, and not lose one day of looking beautiful by dressing badly while her fresh youth lasts. We are desirous that when the first freshness is past, advancing age should not grow slovenly as it is apt to do, but that then the art which once enhanced beauty should conceal its fading away we want every woman to be at all times a picture, an ensample, with no 'bar' between herself and her surroundings, as there should be none between her character and its outward reflection-dress. For this reason, Nature must not be destroyed, but supported; her beauties revealed, not stifled; her weaknesses veiled, not exposed; her defects tenderly remedied; and no fashion should be tolerated which simply tends to burlesque her. As, in spite of Quakers and philosophers, women are likely to spend money and time over their dress to the end of the chapter, the sternest censor may well join in the hope that not the girl of the period, but