for extravagance in dress which began in Germany then, and which has since been maintained by French example and other causes, was originally due, not to Eugénie's fair face, but to a political movement, which had the effect of concentrating wealth in the capital at a time when France was still uneasy under a president whose intentions she mistrusted. in the same dress, and, in short, the taste at home, less abroad. The solitary femme de ménage who managed all the household work for many a small family (the heads of the house dining abroad or having their dinner sent in from some neighboring restaurateur) has been replaced by two or more servants; and these "domestic comforts" have proved to them (as the present meaning of their name implies) the cause of many domestic troubles and many domestic difficulties. They have undertaken to keep more people at a time when wages are higher and provisions dearer: as the consequence of one piece of a folly is generally another, so one piece of extravagance begets a second, and expensive dinners are taking the place of the once easy mode of seeing your friends. With regard to France, the ruin that had followed upon the Revolution, and the want of confidence in their successive governments, had taught the French to be careful, and the example of the Citizen King and his family strengthened this disposition. Fifteen or twenty years ago it was the aim of most French families to live, not within, | In no particular is there stronger evidence but below their income. The dot for the of increased luxury and expense, than in daughter was the result of yearly saving, that of dress. and if there were no children to save for, the same yearly amount was spared and put by, for a rainy day. Their habit was to abjure all credit, and to take such pleasure as they could afford; and whilst we are fond of stigmatizing them as light-hearted and careless, they were in reality far more careful than we, who, making no provision for the expense of recreation, are seldom able to indulge in it without an uneasy feeling that we are hardly justified in so doing. Formerly the French lady of rank was easily satisfied, if her fortune was not large, with two silk dresses, one, either of black or some dark color, for walking, the other for her evening visiting, or receptions, and the latter she was content to vary by a change of headdress or some exquisite lace. Instead of discarding it as she does now, when it has become known to her friends, she piqued herself upon its durability, and received, as a compliment to its original We English are in the main a conscien- value, the remarks of her friends that "it tious people; we do not wish to incur debt had lasted well." With her the purchase we cannot pay; but we start in life with a of a new gown was an event-a subject of notion that a certain mode of living is neces-grave consideration. A good price was sary for respectability, and that, therefore, given, a good article expected. The accomany sacrifice must be made to obtain it. paniments were selected in the same spirit: When we find the means of compassing our ideas on this subject fall short, we too often have not the moral courage to adopt a less pretentious style of living, and, conscious that the foundations of our house are insecure, and that a storm would find us unprepared to meet it, we carry throughout our daily life, into society, as at home, a secret care which prevents our being light-hearted like the more careful, more provident French, as we knew them fifteen, or twenty years ago. We say, as we knew them; for the visitor to Paris now, will find the Parisian brow less serene, the Parisian sky less clear, the latter owing to the almost universal use of coal, which they have adopted, and with it many of our ways of living. They live more the lace was real and costly, the mantles and gloves accorded in color and quality, and the French lady, when dressed was consequently well dressed, suitably to her position, becomingly to herself. Whilst the Frenchwoman was thus simply elegant, the majority of what we call the middle classes in England were decidedly dowdy, and the higher classes far less expensive in their attire than they are now. An English lady of rank who had been eight years absent from London, returned there in the spring of 1850, after having passed the winter at the courts of Vienna and Munich. She expressed surprise at the comparative simplicity of dress at the court of St. James. A few jewels, or a spray of flowers at the back of the head, was orna If dress may be considered as an index of the taste of the age, it is not in error now, when it marks an increase of luxury and expenditure in all classes. ment enough then for the Englishwoman, | window in Paris, and, ere long, worn by whilst the Viennese or Bavarian noble lady people, who a few years before, would have was overloaded with flowers and diamonds. considered such materials beyond their But this state of affairs was not destined to means and unsuited to their station. last long. We jog on in England contentedly enough in our old ways, until some one suggests a new idea for us, which we are some time comprehending, and then we go mad upon the subject. For the last ten years, we and France have certainly been playing the game of "follow my leader," whether in the organization of our army, the improvement of our towns, the reconstruction of our navy, or in the developments of dress. Yes,—to answer the question asked a little way back,-it is to French influence, French example, we must ascribe the increased luxury and expense of dress in England. The Germans have never been so much led by Paris as we have: the Viennese long had, and maintained their own fashions; and we have seen that after 1848 the change there, in this respect, was one of the several results of bringing together the wealthy and the great. But we, who have always plenty of money to spend upon new projects, found one agreeable mode of disposing of it, was buying largely the costly productions from the looms of Lyons, Lille, etc., and all the articles of luxury for which the manufactures of France are renowned, and which the establishment of the empire seemed to rouse from stagnation and depression. Whatever the world may think of Louis Napoleon's celebrated coup-d'état, to France it at once restored confidence. The people instinctively felt that whatever the empire might be to Europe, to them it meant peace -peace at home, peace amongst themselves. L'empire c'est la paix," was susceptible of many readings, but that most agreeable to France was, no more revolutions, no more ideal governments. The empire is a fact. This feeling of confidence infused new life into every branch of trade; and the first care of the emperor was to strengthen this spirit of activity, and to keep down the restless spirits of the manufacturing towns by promoting employment for them. He found a most efficient ally in the empress; and the richest brocades and costliest moirés, which had hitherto been sparingly manufactured for a few of the wealthy only, were soon lavishly displayed in every shop So much for the cost and material of modern costume: the causes that influence the cut and fashion of a dress are less easily determined, or reviewed. The bright-colored petticoats of the present day are easily accounted for by their convenience and warmth. The hats worn in summer came originally from Germany and Switzerland. Although now sadly shorn of their sheltering proportions, and altered from their ugly but useful mushroom shapes, they recommend themselves for various reasons; they are becoming, more durable and cooler in summer than bonnets: their adoption is therefore easily understood, and the burnous, the Spanish mantilla, carry their own history with them. But how is it that we have one year a tight sleeve like a man's coat, and another a hanging one like that of a Chinese mandarin? Who lengthens the cloaks of the fair sex until they almost touch the ground one year, and the following season cuts them off below the waist ? This is a mysterious subject. We are in the habit, when we don't exactly know what a man's occupation is, of saying, “Oh, he has something to do in the City." In the same way, all we know about these changes is that they are effected in Paris. We have heard that there are individuals there whose sole occupation it is, to devise a new pattern, invent a new trimming; but on what principles they proceed we know not. Every now and then we discover that some great novelty is only what our grandmothers wore before us. The adoption or rejection of a fashion, however, depends very much upon the taste and character of individuals who, from their rank or wealth, exercise an influence in society. Accordingly, in the present day, the empress has been made responsible for much. When Eugénie de Montijo espoused Napoleon III., envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness were arrayed against her. She was not royal; she was not French; she rode on horseback; she had English We really think it very hard, however, that the empress should be charged with blood in her veins, an English complexion, | The French look upon the toilette as a work and most probably English tastes. When of art, and pay the same tribute to it that she returned from Notre Dame after the we do to any other artistic production. marriage ceremony, the vast crowds assem- They accepted and valued her success as bled near the Tuileries to view her entry another proof of the supremacy of France there, gave her no welcome, received their in this as in other matters. empress in silence; yet in a few months France unanimously pronounced her charming. She had none of the conventional the present monstrosities of dress, the hidemanner prescribed to royalty; she laughed ous bonnets, the heavy wreaths loading the when she should have been grave, and wept brows and lengthening the face so as to when she should have been composed; she give some women-as a man in the pit of wore fancy dresses, offensive to court eti- the Opera last year remarked-" the appearquette, yet in spite of all this, in spite of ance of unicorns." The exaggerated hoops, her being as natural as Frenchwomen are too,—are these purely French? We have generally artificial, she was pronounced always had a liking for hoops in England, charming. Her beauty and grace captivated and some of our most decorous periods of the other sex; but we have no hesitation in costume have been those when the hoop saying that one cause of her popularity with was worn. We half think this is a fashion her own, was her being beyond all compar- | for which we are as much responsible as our ison the best-dressed woman in the empire. neighbors across the water. THE other day a little Frenchman, just arrived, who had been taking English lessons, on the voyage, from a fellow-passenger, complained much of the difficulty of our grammar, especially the irregular verbs. For instance, says he, "Ze verb to go. Did you ever see one such verb?" And with the utmost gravity he read from a sheet of paper: I go; Thou departest; He clears out; We cut stick; Ye or you make track; They absquatulate. "Mon Dieu! mon Dieu! What disreg ular verbs you have in your language!" Bearded men-(on the hot roadside, one day, Those men, with a tender place in their hearts, O men and brothers! be ye not appalled He never marched; or wrote and tuned the lyre, Like him, the gentlest of immortals, who O truer tongue Whose eloquence was that great word-forgive! O England's calm uncanonized saint At last come home. Welcome,high welcome with the organs grieving, Come home at last! Childless and crownless, weary and heart wounded, A better name than sons can give thou hast, And that deep weariness is aye surrounded By the sweet arms of Christ around thee cast, And from thy crown of thorns, and heartache freed, Thou art at home, indeed. W. A. AN HOUR OF PRAYER. JUST after the sunset yesterday, My spirit was clouded with discontent, And the faith I had was nearly spent, When I came, like a thief impenitent, Weary and foiled in the weary race, To hide myself from my own disgrace, And steal some comfort from the place. Nothing for naught in the world they say, The choir was as free as the aisles of a wood, In the silence, after the city's smoke, Perhaps they were not unwisely bold, So up the choir, with footsteps faint, " My words are bitter; what proof remains To prove them false; are a prisoner's chains Lighter because he forgets his pains? "Hear me, for mine is a soul in need: On the cold damp ground I sink and bleed, Hear me, and show thou art God indeed. "The lamp of my spirit was lit in vain, The light went out long since in the rain, Can faith once lost be found again? "Tis dark without it, but how can we, When the night is starless, pretend to see Across the darkness an image of Thee?" |