deportment of Hannah.

All availed not. The last cold kiss of her dying father was impressed upon her lips, and it was not until he had breathed his latest sigh, that, from mere physical grief and fatigue, she yielded afterwards, and merged the ministering angel in the weeping, suffering and exhausted child. I pass over the funeral scene, and the successive attacks and death of four of the five children, merely remarking, that after the loss of the second, my father came for me, and took me from this house of death.

The mother and Hannah were the only members of this unfortunate family that were spared. My father, deeply interested for the survivors, as soon as they were so far recovered from the same disease, which had proved so fatal to the rest, as to be capable of being moved, came here with me, and begged them in their present solitary condition, to return with him, and consider his house their home. It is true, at the same time, with the excusable worldly-mindedness of a father, he gave me some cautions in regard to the young orphan mourner, which, I assured him, were wholly unnecessary, and which he also learned, by a very slight acquaintance with the person in question.

'In fact, she had not long resided in my father's family with her mother, before she had acquired in his mind the same estimate she had in mine, and I had sufficient reason to believe, that he would now have been pleased to have seen me paying suit for her favor. But she remained in my view a person of character too elevated, I might almost say holy; too much out of the common range, and the ordinary weaknesses of humanity, to be thought of by me in that light. To be plain, and to do her and myself justice, there would have been too much incompatibility between us.— Beside, I had been accustomed to think, that while she evidently entertained a sisterly feeling towards me, she could never have been brought to unite herself with the only child and heir of her father's patron, or to think of him in a more intimate relation than had already subsisted between us.

'I ought not to omit, that two or three months after the death of her father, and after the cholera had passed over the country like a desolating whirlwind, and disappeared, and after sorrow had settled into a calm and hallowed melancholy, on a beautiful autumnal evening, when a train of circumstances had softened the hearts of the two mourners to a sort of communicative sadness, the mother and daughter alternately gave us the affecting details of the sickness and death of each of the four children, three of whom deceased after I left the family.

'George, the eldest of the number, was the first who fell after his father; and he was as remarkable for the calm and intrepid dignity of his deportment, in his conflict with the last enemy, as his father had been. All the shrinking timidity of his nature, in this last trying emergency, seemed changed to fearless and calculating firmness. His mother was attacked, while he was falling into the stage of collapse. He insisted, for a number of hours, after he was under the influence of the disease, that he was in no danger, and suffered no pain. When the fearful circles of blue had extended around his mouth and eyes, and were spreading over his frame, and in the most racking cortortions of spasm, when he could not but see the estimate of his fate in the involuntary shudder of all who approached his bed, he was perfectly rational, fearless, and collected, and took such note of what was passing, and such forethought in relation to the arrangements and concerns of the family, as he had never manifested before. There was something

almost fearfully sublime in thus beholding a weak and yielding spirit become so calmly prescient, so self-collected, and forgetful of self, at the dread moment when it was about to pass through the change of death. They told him that his mother had become warm, and that she was considered out of danger. A delightful smile played over his wan and sunken features. He gave his last directions, and uttered his last words with his icy breath, with surprising calmness. My father's,' said he 'was a long struggle of agony. I rejoice that he is released from it. I have only known, since he died, how I loved him. I am going to join him. Oh! if I may be permitted to descend from that holy and happy abode, where I am sure I shall find him, I will ba ministering spirit to you whom I leave behind! I will infuse vigor, and courage, and enterprise into your natures.' Kissing Hannah with ardor, for she was the common favorite of all, he observed to her that he had no fear for the family, so long as she was spared to them. As the other children came to, his bed, he gave them the most pointed charges to exercise more courage and firmness, assuring them that he felt, in his own case, that to die was not that fearful thing he had apprehended; and that the only point of importance was, during life, to discharge with vigor and diligence its duties. He complained once or twice, that a hand, as of ice, was laid upon his heart. But a moment afterward his countenance was again cheerful and smiling, as he held forth his arms toward the sky, exclaiming, 'I come! I come!'-and when they fell back, all of him that was mortal was a kneaded clod.

'Sarah and Ruth were very beautiful. The disease ran in them more rapidly to its mortal crisis, than in the two preceding victims. They were affected with an excitement approaching to insanity. They recited and sang Mrs. Hemans' exquisite 'Message to the Dead, and when they had no longer voice for either, they were heard whispering these stanzas, till even their whispers became inarticulate. They called their remaining brother, Hannah, and their mother about their bed, kissed first one cheek and then the other of each, pressed their hands, and added: 'The greater number are now in the country where we are going. We will tell them that our brother and mother are going to be as firm and noble-minded as our dear sister!' They died within three minutes of each other. It should have been remarked, that they were twin sisters-lovely in life, and in death not divided. The last victim was Thomas, and his death was not less calm and triumphant than that of those who preceded him. It may seem a narrative strange to my character and years, this in which I am now occupied. But I trust that there are some other young men beside myself, who can sometimes thrill with the emotions that such scenes are calculated to inspire; and it brings to me, when I remember that I have in my turn to die, a melancholy pleasure to reflect, that this last enemy can thus be met, even by the feeble-minded, calmly and triumphantly.

"There was a quiet, dignified, and unpretending calmness in the mourning of this mother and daughter, which I could wish that every mourner might see. It was evident, that the heart's home of these desolate strangers was now in the country where the greater portion of their number had preceded them. But they did not so interpret their dying charges, as to consider it a duty to forget the living, in dwelling upon the memory of the dead. On the contrary, they had been expressly charged by the beloved departed. that duty remains when all things else pass away, an

immortal obligation. A salutary change had passed over the mother in experiencing these sweeping calamities. She has become quite as industrious, and almost as firm and energetic, as her admirable daughter.

'Early last Spring, one of our neighbors, a very rich widower, without a child, some fifteen years older than Hannah, a good-natured, simple, money-getting, inert, good for-nothing sort of personage, became smitten with the excellent orphan mourner of our family, and offered himself in form, through her mother. Every body, at a single view, seemed to consider the offer an admirable one for the lady, in every respect. It was discussed by her mother, in conclave with my parents, some time before it was submitted to herself; and so naturally do mothers, advancing in years take the impress of the thoughts of those about them, that Mrs. Hervey adopted at once the views of my parents: and the rather, as she had become attached to them, and the town in which they lived, and as this marriage would insure the mother and daughter an independence, and perpetual residence among their friends. I supposed, as a matter of course, that she would adopt their views, and be swayed by their wishes, to marry this rich inanity. So deep was my friendship for her, so like love the sentiments of homage and respect which I entertained, that I was half inclined to make an effort to woo the lovely mourner myself, to save her from a still more unworthy union.

"Thankful and rejoiced was I to hear the result of the interview of the wealthy suitor. The object of his passion affected no prudery, no disinclination to marriage. She hinted at the dreadful scenes which within a year had blighted her affections, and withered her heart, rendering her, as she believed, incapable for the present of the love which a wife should bear her husband. 'But,' she added, with her customary magnanimous frankness, 'I will not dissemble with my mother and these my dear friends, and assign the sterility of my stricken heart as the reason why I decidedly reject him. I regard marriage as so right and proper for an unprotected, and especially a poor woman, and I consider convenience, and the prospect of temporal comfort and a sufficiency, such essential elements in the motives to induce one to marry, that if I had esteem for this man, and any grounds to believe that I could ever like him, I would ask him to wait until I had made the effort.

But this man- -I understand you-his looks, his temper, his circumstances, are all much in his favor. But there are some associations that cluster round my internal image of a husband-for grave and melancholy as you seem to consider me, I have sometime drawn this ideal picture—which are most remote from any thoughts that I can connect with this man. Alas! I would say, in the customary phrase, that I thank him for his good opinion of me, and so forth; but it would not be true, and I do not thank him. I am sure that I never could regard him with any feeling but one so nearly allied to loathing, that I would not marry him for the world. I am not so good as you affect to think me, but a very proud, and perhaps a capricious girl. I do think, that woman, in no age of time, was ever considered such a miserable slave as that universal impression views her, which adjudges that a rich fool, if he be neither a brute, nor a demon, ought to be accepted by the first poor girl to whom he offers himself. It is, it must be, a penance to live in this relation with a fool for life, and I am determined not to marry for penance. Others may consider a girl like me a marketable article, if they choose. I am not in the mar

ket on this condition. I am contented as I am, and while I possess these hands, I shall always consider myself and my mother independent, so far as regards subsistence.'

'I was allowed the privilege to be present at this discussion. Observing, perhaps, a good deal of surprise in my countenance, she turned to me, and said; 'My friend and brother, (she was accustomed to call me so,) I hope you are not offended with me for taking this view of the subject.' 'Not at all, my dear sister,' I replied. "On the contrary, you have removed a load from my heart.' And I verily believe, in the excitement of the moment, that she would have had another offer on the spot, had she not contrived, probably in anticipation of my purpose, with her accustomed tact and decision, to give the conversation another turn.

It happened, that not many days after this rejection of the rich lover, I visited New York, and spoke as I felt of Hannah, to my admirable young friend, Henderson Lof whom I will pronounce no other eulogy, than that my simple, unvarnished tale inspired him with a sort of love for her, and a determination to return with me to Rochester, and if he found her such as I had described, to make a tender of his heart to her. He was heir to one of the best estates in the country, handsome, accomplished, highminded-sustaining the highest standing, and, in a word, a person with the very mind to be allured by such a young lady as Miss Hervey. In a few days, I returned, and he accompanied me, causing me, however, on the way, repeatedly to renew my biographical sketch.

'When he arrived at our house, as she had never heard of him, and was led to suppose that his motive for visiting Rochester was business, there was in her deportment towards him none of that consciousness and reserve which it would have been almost impossible for a young person like her, wholly to have avoided, had she been aware of the object of his visit. She saw, indeed, by our deportment towards him, the high regard, the great consideration, we entertained for him; and this, no doubt, insensibly influenced her estimate of him. The unequalled strength, the unpretending dignity of her character, produced a still deeper impression upon him than I had expected. Though she had grown to be decidedly beautiful, she would not have been considered, by ordinary observers, a showy girl. But seeing us making every effort to amuse our friend, and wholly unsuspicious that he had come with any thoughts in relation to her, she naturally put forth all her powers of pleasing. We soon discovered that our friend was deeply in love. Hannah was the last one among us to make the discovery, but she did make it; and, as was natural, became in consequence more reserved and constrained in her manner towards him-a circumstance which accelerated his declaration.

She was not a little surprised, and she must have been more than woman or mortal, not to have been flattered. She told him, however, that she had not for him the sentiment, if she understood what it was, that is called love; but that she liked him much, and had an impression, that if he saw fit to allow her the pleasure of a longer acquaintance, she might attain that sentiment towards him. This was a way of receiving a declaration, I believe, wholly out of the mode; but there was a reason, truth, and propriety in her manner, that satisfied her lover, who continued to remain in our family. Scarcely a month had elapsed, when an incident occurred, that set the moral worth of Henderson Land his magnanimity, kindness, and integrity, in a most

striking light. It was an incident for which he could not have been prepared. It was by mere accident that it reached her ears. Her eyes glistened, as the noble action of our friend was related by me, certainly with no embellishment, but as certainly in a way which I intended, if possible, should make a direct and striking impression, upon her heart. Tears stood in her eyes, as I proceeded, part of which tribute I might suppose paid to my eloquence-a circumstance always favorable to the increase of that attribute in the orator. They walked together in the woods and meadows, the evening subsequent to her learning the facts in question. With a perturbation rather unusual to her firm and collected character, she told Henderson L, that she now loved him, and if he continued of the same mind as formerly, was ready to give him her hand, whenever he chose to ask for it.

'You may easily divine the rest. He purchased the estate we have passed, and there built that sumptuous country house, which they make their summer residence. His wife has the satisfaction, in addition to possessing the best husband I know, of making the old age of her mother comfortable, and of many a lonely evening walk to the graves of the loved and lost of her family, cut off by the dreadful catastrophe I have mentioned. These walks do not, as she affirms, render her sad, but calmly thoughtful, and more firm and active for her duties. They repress the fullness of a joy, which in the case of such a happy nature as hers, and one which has so completely met all that she ever imagined necessary to felicity, might become too buoyant and confident. They remind her of the uncertainty of that tenure by which we hold all below the sun. I should be glad if the thousands of heartless fools, mere beaux and belles, who know nothing but what they call fashion---those biped animals of existence, who are preparing a generation of fools for the coming age---could contemplate this couple, and see what is the real dignity and enjoyment of wedded life. It is to be hoped we should no longer hear them denouncing blues,' and, knowledge, as pedantry, and enviously wishing to reduce every body to their own level of inanity. But my desire is useless; for these vain and senseless souls would not have eyes to see the instruction which this spectacle is so well calculated to afford.'

I THINK OF THE E.

BY T. K. HERVEY, ESQ.

I think of thee, in the night

When all beside is still,

And the moon comes out, with her pale; sad light,

To sit on the lonely hill:

When the stars are all like dreams,

And the breezes all like sighs,

And there comes a voice from the far-off streams,

Like thy spirit's low replies!

I think of thee, by day,

'Mid the cold and busy crowd,

When the laughter of the young and gay Is far too glad and loud;

I hear thy low, sad tone,

And thy sweet, young smile I see, -My heart-my heart were all alone, But for its thoughts of thee!

Of thee, who wert so dear,
And, yet, I do not weep;

For, thine eyes were stained by many a tear
Before they went to sleep;

And, if I haunt the past,

Yet may I not repine,

Since thou hast won thy rest at last,
And all the grief is mine!

I think upon thy gain,

Whate'er to me it cost,

And fancy dwells, with less of pain,
On all that I have lost ;-
Hope-like the cuckoo's endless tale,
-Alas! it wears its wing!-
And love, that-like the nightingale
Sings only in the spring!

Thou art my spirit's all,

Just as thou wert in youth,
Still from thy grave no shadows fall
Upon my lonely truth;—

A taper yet above thy tomb,

Since lost its sweeter rays,

And what is memory, through the gloom, Was hope, in brighter days!

I am pining for the home

Where sorrow sinks to sleep.

Where the weary and the weepers come,

And they cease to toil and weep!

Why walk about with smiles

That each should be a tear,

Like the white plumes that fling their wiles Above an early bier!

Or like those fairy things,—

Those insects of the east,

Which have their beauty in their wings,

And shroud it while they rest;

Which fold their colours of the sky

When earthward they alight,

And flash their splendours on the eye, Just as they take their flight;

I never knew how dear thou wert,
Till thou wert borne away!-

I have it, yet, about my heart,
Thy beauty of that day;

As if the robe thou wert to wear,
In other climes, were given,
That I might learn to know it there,
And seek thee out, in heaven!

HER MAJESTY'S DRAWING ROOM.

The Queen held a Drawing Room on Thursday, May 21st., at St. James's Palace, in celebration of her Majesty's birthday; the drawing-room was the fullest that has been given this season.

A

The Yeoman Guard wore their coronation costume. guard of honour of the Life Guards, with the band of the regiment, was on duty in the large court-yard of the Palace, and the Queen's guard of the Foot Guards was stationed in the Colour Court, and received the members of the Royal Family with military honours.

The principal Knights of the several Orders of Knighthood wore their respective collars, and the Cabinet Ministers and the officers of the Royal Household appeared in their full-dress costume. The Lord Chancellor came in state, attended by his mace-bearer and purse-bearer; and the other Equity Judges also wore their state robes.

Her Majesty's Honourable Corps of Gentlemen-at-Arms were on duty in the state rooms.

Her Majesty and suite came in three carriages from Buckingham Palace, with an escort of Life Guards. Her Majesty was received by the Lord Chamberlain and the Master of the Horse.

The Archbishop of Canterbury entered the royal closet, accompanied by the Archbishop of York, the Bishops of London, Durham, Exeter, Hereford, Ely, Lincoln, Gloucester and Bristol, Norwich, Chichester, Ripon, Chester, Rochester, Kildare, and Nova Scotia, when his Grace delivered a congratulatory address to the Queen.

The Duchess of Kent came in state to the DrawingRoom, escorted by a party of Life Guards. Her Royal Highness was attended by Lady Flora Hastings, Lieut.General the Hon. Arthur Upton, Captain the Hon. Frederick Spencer, and Colonel the Hon. J. H. Caradoc. Her Royal Highness's dress on this occassion was composed entirely of British manufacture.

The Hereditary Grand Duke of Russia entered the Palace by the Colour Court. His Imperial Highness was accompanied by Prince William Henry of the Netherlands, and was attended by Viscount Torrington, and several noblemen of his suite.

Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Gloucester came in state, attended by Lady Charles Somerset, and Colonel Sir Samuel G. Higgins.

The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge came in state accompanied by the Princess Augusta of Cambridge, and attended by Miss Kerr, Major Stephens, and Baron Knesebeck.

The Duke of Sussex, the Princess Sophia Matilda, and the Prince of Leiningen were also present.

Their Imperial, Royal, and Serene Highnesses were ushered to her Majesty in the Royal Closet.

The Drawing Room was very numerously and brilliantly attended, the entire suite of State Rooms being filled with the Nobility and Gentry an hour after the doors had been opened for their reception.

LADIES' DRESSES.

Her Majesty. A white tulle dress over white satin handsomely trimmed with a deep silver flounce, and a garland of pink roses, the body and sleeves splendidly ornamented with diamonds and silver blonde; train of rich silver tissue (of Spitalfields manufacture,) lined with white

satin, and trimmed with pink roses and silver blonde Head dress, a diamond circlet, feathers, and lappets.

H. R. H. the Duchess of Kent.-A dress of white satin, elegantly trimmed with blonde, the body and sleeves ornamented with diamonds and blonde; train of white satin, richly brocaded in gold (of Spitalfields manufacture,) lined with white watered silk, and trimmed with net and gold. Head dress, feathers, and point lace lappets.

H. R. H. the Duchess of Gloucester.-Costume de Cour, composed of a magnificent tulle lama d'argent skirt, handsomely trimmed, with rich flounce of silver, over a superb white satin slip; train of tulle, embroidered in silk and silver of an entire new pattern, trimmed with silver blonde and chef d'argent, and lined with white satin; body and sleeves of the same a la Rachel; berthe and sabots of rich silver blonde. Head dress, ostrich feathers and diamonds; lappets of superb silver blonde.

H. R. H. the Duchess of Cambridge.--Court dress of tulle, over satin, trimmed with Chantilly blonde flounces, ruches, and bouquets of flowers; train of rich mais and white brocaded satin, (of Spitalfields manufacture,) trimmed with blonde and ribbon, and lined with satin; body and sleeves ornamented with blonde and diamonds. Head dress, plume of rich feathers, blonde lappets and diamonds. H. R. H. Princess Augusta of Cambridge.-Court dress of white aerophane, over satin, trimmed all round with silver chef and bouquets of blue and silver flowers, en tablier; train of white watered silk, richly embroidered in silver; body and sleeves ornamented with blonde and bouquets of blue and silver flowers. Head dress, plume of feathers, blonde lappets and diamonds..

Duchess of Beaufort.-Court dress of white gaze Iris, over satin, trimmed with yellow and white gaze Iris and Mechlin lace; train of rich Pompadour, brocaded in yellow and silver lama, lined with white satin, and trimmed all round with Mechlin lace; body and sleeves richly trimmed with lace. Head dress, plume of feathers, lace lappets, and diamonds.

Duchess of Richmond.-A rich glace sky-blue moire poult de soie train, lined with rich white satin, and trimmed with bouffans of tulle; corsage a la Sevigne; rich silver blonde berthe and sabots and mauches a la Venetienne; a rich white tulle illusion dress, richly embroidered in silver lama, with two tuniques, richly embroidered in silver lama, over rich white satin. Head dress, plume of feathers, rich silver blonde lappets, and diamonds..

Duchess of Roxburgh.---Costume de Cour, composed of a train of rich plaid satin, lined with white glace; garniture of tulle, Grec, and gold ribbon; petticoat of rieh white satin, with a superb deep blonde flounce, looped with gold ribbon to correspond; sabots and berthe of blonde. Head dress, feathers, lappets, tiara of diamonds.

Duchess of Roxburghe.---Train of pink satin, richly brocaded with silver, trimmed with lama: silver blonde berthe and ruffles: petticoat of tulle, over satin, trimmed with silver blonde and bouquets of pink anamone, with diamond centres. Head dress, feathers and silver blonde lappets; ornaments, diamonds.

Duchess of Somerset.-Court dress of full Highland costume, composed of a magnificent dress of the Royal Stuart tartan, the thistle worked in gold and being tastefully placed in the centre of each square; the stomacher being composed of diamonds, emeralds, and rubies, forming the rose and thistle, the corsage edged on either side with diamonds;

the tartan scarf to correspond, gracefully fastened on the left shoulder with a splendid brooch of rare Scotch stones; train of the same as the dress, and lined with rich white satin. Head dress, tiara of diamonds, surmounted by feathers.

Marchioness of Abercorn.-Train of rich white and silver brocaded satin, trimmed with lama; silver blond berthe and ruffles; tulle petticoat over satin, trimmed with silver blonde and bouquets of variegated convolvolus. Head dress, feathers and silver blonde lappets; ornaments, diamonds.

Marchioness of Breadalbane.---Train of mais satin, richly brocaded with silver; silver blonde berthe and ruffles: petticoat of tulle over satin, trimmed with sith silver blonde and bouquets of shaded rose-leaves with silver stems. Head-dress, feathers and silver and blonde lappets; ornaments, diamonds.

Marchioness Cornwallis.---A white satin dress, richly embroidered in gold, the body and sleeves handsomely trimmed with blonde; train of rich violet satin, lined with white silk, and trimmed with net and ribbon. Head dress, feathers, diamonds, and lappets.

Marchioness of Ely.---Petticoat of rich Irish white satin, trimmed with deep Brussels lace: robe of brocade, Irish satin, trimmed with the same. Head dress, diamonds and feathers.

Marchioness of Exeter.---Train of rich primrose moire, trimmed with bouquets of variegated hedge-roses: blonde tucker and ruffles: white crape petticoat over satin, festooned with bouquets of roses to correspond with train. Head dress, feathers and blonde lappets: ornaments, diamonds.

Marchioness of Lansdowne.---A rich white satin broche dress: magnificent train in grey gros de Naples broche, very tastefully trimmed with a chef d'or: berthe and sabots in blonde d'or. Head dress, hlonde d'or lappets, ostrich feathers, superb parure de diamonds.

LONDON AND PARISIAN FASHIONS.

DRESSES.-A clear organdi dress over poult de soie slip, had a slight draping on each side the corsage, and piping; the sleeve was in the Venetian style, large and ample in the exterior form; the inner one embroidered and ornamented with volans; the skirt had also volans of similar make, but graduating in size.

Dresses of plain gauze or tulle, with volans formed simply of one fold of the material, have a very simple and pretty effect; they are particularly applicable to young persons.

Poult de soie dresses, pale green, pale rose color, with guipure ornaments en tablier, or placed on the corsage, in addition to those forming flounces, are admired.

A white poult de soie worked on a rose-coloured design, was ornamented at the corsage with three folds of the same on each side, placed obliquely, and a lace border; a lace flounce after traversing the bottom of the skirt, turned upwards in front, and was terminated at nearly the height of

the knees by a nœud of ribbon, rose-colored. The ceinture with long ends predominates, the pointed one is usually confined to full dress.

The skirt is ample, the wristband generally adorned with ruffles; the sleeves large, with bouillons, trimmings, or biais on the upper part.

HATS, CAPS, &c.-Nothing can be more elegant than the very light and fairy-like Hats and Bonnets of transparent gauze crape, and which, with a small garland, bouquet, or delicate feather gives so graceful an air.

The paille de rix are also greatly admired, though their general use might have originated the supposition of their being out of vogue in distinguished quarters.

The Bonnet à la Dorine, or cap after the style of Dorine in the " Tartuffe," modified by a Parisian milliner, has obtained great favor in the fashionable world. It is made with barbes, and may be worn with a reception dress, or evening parties.

The little blond caps with small foliage, are light and elegant.

A black lace cap is observed sometimes with a long scarf and bavolet falling on the neck.

The Ibis plume frequently ornaments the paille de rix and lisse Bonnet, a field bouquet is also thought very becoming.

The disposition of a ribbon with many of those elegant light hats, that are so fashionable now, makes a very great difference in their effect, whether put on flat, bowed, twisted, in small bouillons, &c. and this will be worthy of note, that a little display of taste in this way frequently varies the style more than an elaborate alteration.

A Turban of Tarlatane in the Odalisque style, was worked in silver, and had a deep fringe of the same.

A Turban of etherial gauze, white, streaked with rose colour, was ornamented with a double scarf.

Sevignés of blond lace adorned with Scotch heather has a very pretty appearance.

We observe blond scarfs on many of the rice straw hats, which give an air of elegance with some costumes.

A pretty mode of embellishing Caps is in the use of Mancinis, of jacinthes, orange and poinceau.

The Diana de Poictiers is still a favorite form of coiffure. MATERIALS AND COLORS.-Silken materials in exceeding variety, are now, more than ever, the staple of the toilette, as being fabricated into textures of a nature calculated for every species of wear.

Woollen, in all its beautiful varieties too, holds the sway, though many of the materials lately noticed, have given way to others of patterns and designs more recherché.

The gros and the mousselines de laine much varied and modified, but in the fabric and design are the leading styles. The most admired are the Ombré, the Chiné, the Glacé, the Diapré, Lainé, Coldé, and with slighter modifications as the Ondulé, Flambé, &c. constitute a majority of the fashionable style and material.

VARIETIES.-Shawls and Mantelets have a vogue even superior to what we have been able to record before, and all made in style and material to agree perfectly with any costume, or any degree of temperature.

From the rich Indian silk, the softly beautiful satin, to the crape, the lama, or blond kerchief, we have degrees that can accommodate themselves to all times, and seasons, and individuals; for town or country, morning or evening, balľ or reception dress, these articles of costume have the distin