our Old Books. Of poetry, the verse that is built upon pure thoughts, and that goes abroad through Nature to gather its materials, there is none like that which our own language affords. It is rich, fluent, various, and familiar.

Now, as the rough storm welters against the panes that rock in their firm grooves, turn over a page of SACKVILLE, the statesman-poet. It is the complaint of the Duke of BUCKINGHAM, who mourns his own fall with the desolation of the flowery earth under the approach of winter.

The wrathful winter, 'proaching on apace,
With blustering blasts had all ybared the treen,
And old Saturnus, with his frosty face,
With chilling cold had pierced the tender green;
The mantles rent wherein enwrapped been
The gladsome groves that now lay overthrown,
The tapets torn, and every tree down blown.

Then looking upward to the heaven's beams,
With Nighte's stars thick powder'd every where,
Which erst so glisten'd with the golden streams,
That cheerful Phoebus spread down from his sphere,
Beholding dark oppressing day so near;
The sudden sight reduced to my mind
The sundry changes that in earth we find.

That musing on this worldly wealth in thought,
Which comes and goes more faster than we see
The fleckering flame that with the fire is wrought,
My busy mind presented unto me

Such fall of peers as in this realm had be,
That oft I wish'd some would their woes descrive,
To warn the rest whom fortune left alive.

Those last lines, most esteemed THOMAS SACKVILLE, Earl of Dorset, hath much of a tone like prophecy, as if, when you wrote them, you looked forward into this year, that sees the English peerage on the verge of a precipice with the storm roaring at their backs. Poor SACKVILLE, who gave this language of sorrow to the unfortunate BUCKINGHAM, died himself suddenly at the council table of James I.

The Faeries were Roman Catholics. Here is our voucher-that facetious wine-bibber and mime of humanity, Bishop CORBETT. He philosophically traces their elf-track to their tenets of the Church of the Tiara.

Witness those rings and roundelayes
Of theirs, which yet remaine,
Were footed in Queene Marie's dayes
On many a grassy playne;

But since of late, Elizabeth,

And later, James came in,

They never daunced on any heath

As when the time hath bin.

By which we note the Faeries
Were of the old profession;
Theyre songs were Ave Maryes;
Theyre daunces were procession:
But now, alas! they are all dead,
Or gone beyond the seas;
Or farther for religion fled,

Or elce they take theyre ease.

A sorry

So-the reformation banished the Faeries. reformation was that. But it could not drive its ploughshare through their well-trodden circles in the velvet of the vallies, and the mists of the hills. And how do we know that they do not still troop their moonlight rounds on the worn sward, and still float away into thin air in the rays that dissolve, like a dew, over their haunts? How do we know? How do we not know? We know nothing about it; and our faith must be large

to have a doubt either way. One thing is nearly certain-they do not visit the cramped grasses in the winter-night. Then is the time for the owls and the black ravens pitched upon the snow. Then gaunt superstition grizzles up in a spectral attitude athwart the dim light that lines the horizon, and through the interstices of ruins piled to the roof with ice that has grown dark in its rigidity. Hear what SHAKESPEARE says, who seldom went wrong in these matters.

WINTER.

When icicles hung by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail;
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!

Ta-whit! tu-whoo! a merry note,
While greasy Jane doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,

And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow.

Aud Marian's nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!

Tu-whoo! tu-whit! a merry note,
While greasy Jane doth keel the pot.

But

Winter is beautiful in every aspect, and sublime in its terrors. The poor winged things, and herb-fed insects that live through the summer, and perish in the cold at the turn of the season, are the greatest sufferers. how mighty is that death that rushes through the pores of myriad-breathing Nature in a single sweep of the dial! What a wondrous provision is there here in the ordained order of succession against the overstocking of life; and how irreverent and small-visioned do those miserable economists appear who would put a curb upon the operation of the Invisible Spirit of Existence, and inspire the arrangements of the Creator with the theories of the Worm of Books?

One of the most affecting pictures of death in the insect tribes is given in the verses of that gallant cavalier, LOVELACE, whose own life was a tragedy pursued through all its moods, from the gay opening to the mournful catastrophe. Here is a specimen of them.

THE GRASSHOPPER.

Oh thou that swings't upon the waving hair
Of some well filled oaten beard,

Drunk every night with a delicious tear,

Dropped thee from heaven, where now thou'rt reared.

The joys of earth and air are thine entire,

That with thy feet and wings dost hop and fly; And, when thy poppy works, thou dost retire To thy carved acorn-bed to lie.

*

But al, the sickle! golden ears are cropped;
Ceres and Bacchus bid good night;
Sharp frosty fingers all your flowers have topped,
And what scythes spared, winds shave off quite.

Poor verdant fool! and now, green ice; thy joys
Large and as lasting as thy perch of grass,
Bid us lay in 'gainst winter-rain, and poize
Their floods with an o'erflowing glass.

Ha! Stag-Foot leaps from his warm lair and bounds to the entrance. Whom doth he welcome? We must not say; she is like the Magdalen of CRASHAWE with tears of joy trembling on her cheeks. A tear?

What bright soft thing is this?
Sweet Mary, thy fair eyes' expense?
A moist spark it is,

A wat❜ry diamond; from whence
The very term, I think, was found
The water of a diamond!

Did we not some time ago inquire why SOUTHEY omitted CRASHAWE in his collection of the English poets? Poor CRASHAWE has been all along neglected by makers of anthologies-with one or two honourable exceptions as if he had no business in such company as DRAYTON, HABINGTON, and WITHERS. But he is worthy of his niche, and he must have it, one day or another. He was a Catholic priest, and yet wrote such conceits as these:

Heavens thy fair eyes be,
Heavens of ever-falling stars,
"Tis seed time still with thee,

And stars thou sow'st, whose harvest dares
Promise the Earth to counter-shine

Whatever makes Heaven's forehead shine.

The dew no more will weep,

The primrose's pale cheek to deck,
The dew no more will sleep,
Nuzzled in the lily's neck.

Much rather would it tremble here,
And leave them both to be thy tear.

There, we could run through the night with these delicious fragments, but we are warned of the solemnities before us that must be fulfilled. How one may prattle over the Christmas fire with these Apostles of Poetry, and grow, as it were, a part of themselves, almost sharing in the fervour of their inspiration. It is the true religion, speaking in its own most glorious language. And that language is our own-for where, except in the English Classics do we find the veins of the living ore, the coinage from which is immortal? Not even the stateliness of the Grecian march, nor the solemn music of the Latin, nor the silver cadences of the Italian, nor the playfulness of the French, are comparable with our English poetry, in its masses of the picturesque, the didactic, the dramatic, and the descriptive. But who is not proud of England-albeit her carols are fainting into echo? Let WORDSWORTH describe the thought for us.

SONNET.

Composed in the valley near Dover, on returning from France.
Dear fellow-traveller! here we are once more.

The Cock that crows, the Smoke that curls, that sound
Of Bells those Boys who, in your meadow-ground
In white sleeved shirts are playing-and the roar

NO. XXXVII-VOL. IV.

Of the waves breaking on the chalky shore-
All, all are English. Oft have I looked round
With joy in Kent's green vales; but never found
Myself so satisfied in heart before.

Europe is yet in bonds: but let that pass,
Thought for another moment. Thou art free,
My Country! and 'tis joy enough and pride
For one hour's perfect bliss, to tread the grass
Of England once again, and hear and see,
With such a dear companion by my side.
Put another log on the fire.

LONDON AND PARISIAN FASHIONS

FROM A VARIETY OF THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES INCLUDING COPIOUS EXTRACTS FROM

"Le Petit Courrier des Dames"-" Journal des Dames et des Modes, L'Observateur des Modes et L'Indiscret'-" Le Follet Courrier des Salons"—" Le Mercure des Salons," &c. &c.

DRESSES. Nothing can be more elegant for demitoilet dresses composed of rich materials, than a high mounting flat corsage, flat on the back and shoulders, with a few light gathers at the waist. A pierrot of tulle and blond may be employed with advantage, closed by a brooch, or, if intended for a visiting or promenade dress, a tulle scarf round the throat, with long ends descending over the skirt.

All our fashions of the middle ages, all those resurrections of old costumes, all that enormous rotundity of materials and accoutrements imitated from the chronicles of our ancestors, have not however, entirely excluded from our drawing rooms the apparition of those fanciful and tastful costumes, where the taste and spirit of the lady wearing them is sometimes revealed by the display of a feather, the choice of some particular shade, or the plaiting of a gauze. Dress has also its physiology from which many exact indications might be deducted, though we most certainly will not undertake to initiate in such a science, though as in duty bound, and in fulfilment of our mission, we will notice these fancy costumes.

High-mounting velvet dresses are perfectly comme il faut, deep blue, black, and emerald green are the favourite colours.

We have seen a very elegant dress of the following description: it was composed of white tulle; the skirt trimmed from the ceinture to the hem with rose-coloured wide gauze ribbon, laid flat, about four inches distant from one another, and slightly gathered in the upper part near the waist at the extremity, near the hem, each ribbon terminated by a noeud with two ends. The corsage was on cœur, and trimmed with a ruche of tulle forming mantilla on the back.

Pelisses and cloaks composed of the new material foulard de Smyrne have a rich and striking appearance; the whole width of the cloak is of one single piece without seams, and formed as it were by rich designs which extend to the upper part of the cloak, forming colonades; the large cape and small falling collar are embellished with designs proportionately appropriated, The colours are bright and skilfully intermixed on green, violet, or dark brown grounds. This material is very rich and elegant for evening dresses, open in front and forming tunic as they are at present so much worn; the aspect of their rich designs render them

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particularly appropriate for this sort of costume. corsage deep cut in the back, the shoulder-bands very low, and draperies on the chest; wide sleeves gathered at the wrist; a cordeliere tied in front, the skirt of the under dress of white crape, ornamented round the hem with white silk embroidery, forms a most beautiful toilet.

For elegant and comfortable wrappers these foulards are no less perfect. Wide sleeves terminated by designs similar to those of the skirt, a silk lining wadded and quilted, forms a neglige quite different from all those we have hitherto seen, uniting lightness with warmth, and when employed for pelisses is the best material that can possibly be adapted over ball dresses or coming out of the theatre. Several ladies have had them disposed so that the large cape or collar might be turned into very wide sleeves and a hood to cover the head; this is uniting prudence to elegance, and agrees perfectly with the Smyrna foulard, as the disposition of the designs are so happily combined that it can be employed with effect to all shapes and any part of dress.

Cloaks are now generally fastened round the waist by a cordeliere with the ends terminated by tassels; a similar cordeliere, only smaller, fastens the collar round the neck. Almost all the small collars are of velvet, as also the piping round the cloak. They are equally worn with or without sleeves. All cloaks are now made with a pocket inside. The long cape is according to taste, sometimes en biais or thickly gathered on the straight edge, but in every instance it should form numerous plaits.

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Reticules of a new description have just appeared, they are called sacs-manchons, never was denomination better applied, the lower part of these bags are posed of fur, they are made of all sorts of fur, marten, Kolinska, ferret, etc. The upper part is of satin or velvet, embroidered or plain to correspond with the dress. Some very elegant ones are of crimson or green velvet embroidered in gold, and closed by a cordeliere terminated with gold tassel.

A new sort of collar is composed of gauffered gauze of two colours, rose and black, green and white, etc.; they are fastened in front by a gauze ribbon; the two gauzes are turned spiral ways one within the other.

Young ladies at evening parties or at the theatres, wear demi-scarfs of black tulle embroidered with coloured silk, the ends terminated with a fringe of various colours.

The fashion of pockets is becoming every day more general. They are worn with pelisses, evening dresses, etc. The opening is marked by an embroidery, a fringe, lace, etc.

BALL TOILETS.-Out of twenty ball dresses more than the half are of thick, rich materials. These are mostly with pointed corsages, the back flat, and blond mantillas. The figured dark satins are the most elegant. We have seen one of violet coloured satin with bouquets, of gold and green the skirt open in front, the corsage forming a point, terminated by a cordeliere; the sleeves short and separated in the middle by a cordeliere, the ends falling on the arms. The coiffure, a small wreath of thin gold flowers across the forehead, and on the summit of the head a few sprigs of gold flowers disposed en aigrette.

With light toilets, gauze or satin ribbon ceintures

with long ends descending on the skirt. We have a few novelties to notice in the fashion of evening and neglige dresses; on satin redingotes, three equal plaits are made in the middle of the corsage and the skirt; these plaits are an inch and a half wide; the rest of the corsage in front is flat, the back is flat on the shoulders, and in light gathers in the middle under,

the ceinture.

For plain dresses, plaits spreading out in a fan-like shape from the shoulders, and united on the chest by a narrow cord reaching half way down, the same ou the back. Sometimes there are five plaits originating from the shoulders, diminishing in width, uniting in the middle, and closed under the ceinture.

With the deep cut Sevignés are sometimes seen a number of nœuds sprinkled over the corsage; this mode is not so becoming as six nœuds distributed thus: in front and behind at the upper and lower part of the drapery, and the other two on each shoulder.

Pelerine-mantelets are still in fashion, trimmed round with silk fringe. Plainer pelerines are also made of this same shape, nearly similar to those of last year; a point over the chest and one on the back; a point on the shoulders descending on the sleeve; the pelerine trimmed with a double blond.

Many morning and evening neglige dresses are made with high-mounting flat corsages, slightly gathered behind under the ceinture.

High mounting corsages for promenade and evening negliges, are flat in front; those deep cut round the shoulders trimmed with a flat-laid blond are also with flat corsages. A very handsome make is à la vierge, the front terminating en pointe and trimmed with short nœuds. We have seen a beautiful dress composed of very fine light organdi, the corsage flat, trimmed with a superb mantilla of British lace; the sleeves shortwith sabots of the same description, disposed at equal distances, on the mantilla and the edge of the corsage were small bows of cherry-coloured satin; the sabots divided in the middle by bows with long ends.

A black velvet dress, pointed corsage, the sleeves divided in the middle, add trimmed with large sabots of white tulle fastened by a long nœud of black satin. A handsome evening redingote of blue satin, figured with large flowers; shawl corsage deep cut; the pe lerine round on the back, crossed with the skirt, and both bordered with a dent formed by three pipings.

We have seen the same arrangement on two other dresses; one of white crape, lined with satin, and edged with a narrow white blond; ths other of rosecoloured crape edged with black blond.

Black blond turbans are worn by the most elegant fashionables, their appearance by candle light is very rich, soft and brilliant. Those turbans can be made with a scarf, by supporting them with a long piece of rolled satin.

Cashmere turbans are more difficultly managed in consequence of the shawl being generally too large, and a scarf too small; they are very elegant with an evening or even a ball dress.

The reign of boas is irrevocably passed. A very few may yet be seen three or four times twisted round a pretty chilly neck, but this must be considered as the last lutte against fashion.

Palatines have a decided advantage, which will be still more so next winter.