as the French call it, and large below. Jupe full, with the elbow to the lower edge in front. A wide fringe also rather deep plaits.

passes all round the base of the jupe. Robe of rich damask, The trimming of the robe is a fringe composed of rich roseate pearl-gray, broché in columns of large waving black chenilles and silk fringe. The chenille forms ag an reed leaves. s lying down, and from each junction fall back three FIGURE 7. Toilette de ville.Gray felt bonnet without ends. At the middle of the openings is seen the crest of a trimming except the plain crossing of the strings. Lining silk fringe. There are three rows of this trimming upon and under-trimming of white satin. Gray poplin dress the jupe, entirely covering it almost to the hips, and a trimmed up the front with parallel bands of silk galons row of the same kind, but narrow at the edge of each and buttons. Pardessus of green satin trimmed with wide sleeve, and at the edge of the opening of the corsage, the lace; deep pelerine trimmed to match. co of chenille only. Under-sleeves of white lace.

FIGURE 8. Home Toilette.-Cap of white tulle coming FIGURE 6. Toilette de ville.-Bonnet with double face, near to the forehead, in a point, retreating to the side of the under side of bright green satin, the upper of green the head, then extending in rather long rounded ears to velvet; that below smooth, trimmed with black lace, that the cheek, and finally retreating again to the back of the above, with embroidered dents of a black lace. Bavolet of head. The material of the cap is very full and puffed as plain green satin, covered with a velvet with dents of lace. it were, and quilted all over by numerous little rose-bells, Crown flat, but with rounded corners; three rosettes of in the hollows of the tulle. On each side is a thick cluster satin ribbon mingled with black lace, and placed at the of these rose-bells. Under these clusters, the puffings are junction of the crown and face. Manteau ajusté, of green much thicker than those on the head, as are also those satin, smooth over the chest and close round the neck, near the edge of the cap behind. Hair in puffed bandeaux. where a small collarette comes out with a noud at the Robe of light green moire; corsage open in front in an throat. The front is quilted from the seams at the top of elongated V, and trimmed like the edge of the sleeves with the shoulders, the quilted part narrowing to the waist and dark green chenille fringe; waist long, and pointed in then widening a little, but toward the lower part of the front. Sleeves wide below, reaching in front only to the jupe extending all round. Sleeves wide, gathered at the bend of the arm. Under-sleeves tight. Skirt very full and shoulder, trimmed by a fringe sewed on en biais from trimmed with three rows of the dark chenille fringe, of

graduated widths, the lower row being twice as wide as
the upper. Around the opening of the corsage is an under
edging of white lace, and near the point appears a very
small chemisette.

FIG. 8.

HOME TOILETTE.
FIGURE 9. Evening Dress.-White satin robe, with skirt
trimmed with thirteen volants of English application, and
with small white roses and foliage placed together, and
arranged en tablier (apron-like). Body low, with long

Fig. 7.
TOILETTE DE VILLE.

FIG. 9. EVENING DRESS. point with berthe of lace like that on the skirt. Corsage bouquet of orange flowers and white roses. The hair is ornamented very gracefully with clusters of pearls and vineleaves,

FIGURE 10. Marriage Costume.-Lace guimpe and veil. Robe of damask trimmed on each side of the front breadth of the skirt with two rows of point d'Alençon, separated by a bouillonné of crêpe lisse. High body open to the waist; trimming similar to that of the skirt, and placed around the edge of the opening. Sleeves, open to the elbow, rounded in front, trimmed with bouillonnės and lace falling over the wrist.

FIGURES 12, 14, 16, and 18 are spencers or guimpes of the latest styles, with embroidery anglaise and valenciennes.

FIGURE 11 is a ladies' morning cap.
FIGURE 13, is a cap for an infant.
FIGURES 15, 17, and 19-are sleevelettes and a collar.

Fig. 20. Cavalier Pardessus. This pardessus is in the style of the times of Charles II. There are indications which promise for it much favour in future. It is the same in shape as that on figure 1, but the application of the trimming is somewhat different.

The chaussure of this winter, for ball or fall evening dress, is shoes of satin, and embroidered silk stockings ; for the morning, gaiters of the same colour with the dress are worn: at home, slippers, either of velvet with large puffs of satin, or of white or rose satin trimmed with lace.

The Pearl-Oyster.

4

A SONG

WORDS AND MUSIC RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THAT MAN!"

And

our nature. What images of horror does not this instinct summon to its aid?

-“To die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprisoned in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling!—'tis too horrible!
The weariest and most loathed worldly life,
That age, ache, penury, imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death."

Nor is it fear only that asks the withholding of the fatal shears. A nobler motive often prompts the cry for life. The dying mother, as she thinks of the little ones she is to leave behind, prays, passionately prays, for their sake to be spared; with Mrs. Osgood in one of her sweetest lays, she may say, “Ah, let me stay!-albeit my heart is weary, Weary and worn, tired of its own sad beat, That finds no echo in this busy world Which cannot pause to answer—tired alike Of joy and sorrow, of the day and night.

C6

THERE are those undoubtedly who may sin- My frank and frolic child, in whose blue eyes, cerely pray, with ancient Pistol,

Wild joy and passionate wo alternate rise;

Whose cheek the morning in her soul illumes; “ Abridge my doleful days,

Whose little, loving heart a word, a glance, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds

Can sway to grief or glee; who leaves her play, Untwine the sisters three. Come, Atropos, I say;" And puts up her sweet mouth and dimpled arms or think, with Casca,

Each moment for a kiss, and softly asks,

With her clear, flute-like voice, 'Do you love me?' “He that cuts off twenty years of life,

Ah, let me stay! ah, let me still be by, Cuts off so many years of fearing death;"

To answer her and meet her warm caress!" who are unwilling patiently to wait

Pardon, kind reader, if the picture has made “Till the Destinies do cut the thread of life;"

us sad. Look upon that mysterious thread,

and count not the question inopportune, even who might even say, with Cleopatra to the asp, at this festal season—for, of the many thous* Come, thou mortal wretch,

ands for whose eyes this paragraph is written, With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate there are certainly some of whom it may be Of life at once untie;"

said before this sheet meets the light, some, yea how many, young and loving wives,

“Their thread of life is spun"who heart-broken and in despair over a husband wrecked on the quicksand of intempe- that thread in the picture—is it yours, dear rance, are ready to cry out, with Amavia in reader, or mine? the Legend of Sir Guyon,

“Fates! we would know your pleasures :“Come, then; come soon; come, sweetest Death to me, That we shall die, we know ; 'tis but the time, And take away this long lent loathed light;"

And drawing days out, that men stand upon." and yet, when

Shut not, then, the thought of death from thy “ The strings of life begin to crack,”

heart. Look once more upon the picture.

Clotho, the eldest of the fatal Three, has begun they find the web “is of a mingled yarn, good to spin, Lachesis with heaven-directed hand is and ill together;" they shrink, and call on Atro- disposing, the mysterious thread of our exispos to withhold a while the dreadful shears. tence:—when, when, dread Atropos, shall thy

The fear of death is the common instinct of office commence ?–J. S. H.

a