The shock, trivial although it was, had been too great for her overstrained nerves, the shattered glass set loose the tears which had not flowed for the pains which had wrung her heart, and suddenly she burst into violent hysterical sobs.

It was but a natural, trivial incident, yet | table, broke into fragments, and the water his friendly unconcerned tone cut her to was poured down on the floor. the heart. It was horrible to see him so near and so unspeakably distant; yet she would have held the moments if she might, and felt a sickening dread of the instant when he should pass for ever from her sight. The red lights showed themselves in the distance, slow and steady and irre- "Now don't ye take on so, don't ye, sistible in their approach; the rush of the Miss," said Jim, as he went down on his engine grew nearer and nearer. Walter kuees to pick up the pieces; "lie down by threw away his cigar and turned for a mo- the fire now and rest a bit, and I'll get ment, looking back at the station, so that, my missis to bring you a cup o' tea as ull although he did not know it, he was face be better nor that cold water." to face with Christina. Was it instinct? Christina had still strength enough left was it that curious sensation of being to exercise some self-control; she lay upon watched which brought a shadow across the miserable little hard sofa and stifled his face, or was it the memory of pain the sobs which might have in some and the pang of regret? Her sad, long-comforted her if only she could have given ing eyes looking out of the darkness, way to them, while the kind-hearted porrested for the last time upon his fair, dis- ter made his way to the little cottage on tinguished face. She saw the slight con- the other side of the road and brought his traction on his forehead and the flash of wife and the cnp of tea which she had pain across his sensitive mouth. Her been keeping hot for him. Christina had straining eyes followed him until the door in some sort recovered herself; the sobs was shut, and even then she remained which had alarmed him had given place to gazing out into the night after the long a strange composure, which he rejoiced at line of carriages had passed into the dis- in his ignorance, and by the time Christance, and the sound of the swift-rushing tina had swallowed to her cup of tea she wheels had died away. was able to stand and declare that she was quite equal to the walk across the heath."

For the time she was lost to all consciousness of her surroundings. She had fallen back into her chair and sat with eyes looking vacantly before her, her hands hanging down by her side and her hair pushed back from her face.

Her friend the porter came and looked at her, and went away shaking his head, to take counsel with the ticket collector. "I'm afeard the poor young lady may be out of her mind," he said, in his perplexity; and then again it may be only a long journeying and distress of mind." The other man could offer no solution of enigma, but his experience was more, available, inasmuch as he had been married for ten years to a nervous and hysterical wife. 66 A glass of water is allays of use to 'em," he suggested; "they can drink it or put on their heads; it's what iny missis is allays the better for-if I was you, Jim, I'd take her a glass." Fortified with this practical advice, "Jim" again went into the little dingy waitingroom and put a glass of water down upon the table before the pale mute face of its inhabitant, muttering some apologies for his intrusion. Christina gave a slight shiver and mechanically put out her hand to take it. But as she would have raised it to her lips it slipped from between her fingers, the glass crashed against the

sort

"I have been very troublesome," she said with a smile; "how good you have been to me, you kind people! I shall come and see you another day and thank you better. No; I would rather go alone. I know my way quite well."

66

"However we could let her go alone, Jim, is what I can't understand," said the porter's wife to her husband afterwards; 'my mind misgives me that it weren't what we ought to ha' done; but there, she seemed strong enough when once she was on her feet."

It was true that Christina had turned out of the little station walking firmly with her face against the wind. She had felt the necessity of avoiding companionship. Now that the first excitement was past she began to dread recognition, feeling vaguely that she had perhaps been wrong in what she had done, desiring at least that it should not be known. The effort she had made for self-control had for the moment braced her nerves and given her strength; but after the first two hundred yards her steps began to flag. The darkness had deepened, the mist had turned to driving rain. The great level heath was spread all round her. She wandered from the path, entangling her feet in

the heather, and often stopping from ly hoped that a resolute reformer will soon utter weariness to gather breath to pro- appear, and will deliver us from our bondceed. It was only a mile from East-down age. Our period is great in trade, in newsto the White House, yet it was more than papers, in preserved meat, in war, but it an hour from the time she had left the sta- strangles individuality, it chokes all aspition before she came out upon the road, rations which lie outside the adopted and, dead to all consciousness except that groove; it has no sympathy with social inof physical pain and weariness, dragged novators. We live in such constant need herself up the steps which led to the gar- of each other's aid, that we dare not offend den. She passed slowly along the pebbled each other's prejudices; so that even walk and saw the firelight shining from those amongst us who most keenly feel the windows. At least she was at home that a radical change in the dress of men again. It was not that she wanted help is absolutely necessary, and that its origior sympathy; she could not have under- nator would be a benefactor to the unistood it if it had been offered to her; she verse, do not venture to offer an example. hardly knew what it was that she had suf- Yet surely we all must feel that the ninefered; her mental powers were benumbed, teenth century is an epoch of appalling and with them her capacity for mental suf- frightfulness; that the gentlemen who now fering; but she felt that she was cold and have their portraits proudly painted in wet and trembling, and had a half-conscious tail-coats and white cravats will be objects longing for shelter and light and warmth. of contumely to their grandsons; and that She opened the hall door for herself; she their successors will be utterly unable to saw the firelight glowing in the kichen, comprehend that a generation which was and went towards it, utterly insensible to so inventive in politics, in science, and in all but her physical needs. The kitchen the details of material progress - which was empty. Christina, creeping towards was seemingly so full of liberty of thought the warmth like a wounded thing, sat -should have had no liberty of action, down on the floor before the fire leaning and should have silently supported the her head back against the cushioned arm- outrageous despotism of ugliness. chair which stood beside it. And the crickets chirruped on the hearth in their unconsciousness, and the kettle was singing, as the fire blazed fitfully and the shadows danced upon the wall.

From Blackwood's Magazine.
FRENCH DRESS.

We shrink from change because we pretend that it would indicate vanity and affectation, and that the frank adoption of external ornament would be unworthy of the manly natures of our time. But we overlook two facts: the first, that, with all our fancied manliness, we Europeans of to-day do pay singular attention to our vestments, abominable as they are; the second, that when men did dress well, they were quite as much men as we are, and perhaps a little more so. The MousqueTHERE was a time when men used to taires of Louis Treize wore the most perfect dress; when high hats, black coats and clothes which the world has ever seen; trousers, were not invented; when velvet, Condé, Raleigh, Henri Quatre, the Cavalace and satin, feathers, curls and ruffles, liers, were models of costume; but it were masculine adornments; when women would be difficult to pretend that they had no monopoly of the more delicate ma- were not gallant soldiers and real men. terials of costume; when colour, shape, There is no necessary connexity between and substance were at the equal disposi- effeminacy and graceful dress, there is no tion of both sexes. The Revolution of inherent unworthiness in the pursuit of 1789, its consequences throughout Europe, outward charm; and though so many of the levelling tendencies which resulted us proclaim that the adornment of men's from it, brought about equality in men's bodies is an object beneath our care, there clothes, and gradually led us to the hide- is no argument to be found in history or in ousness of covering which now distinguishes male humanity, and to the apathy which induces us to support it without revolt. The slavery of habit, the tyranny of our neighbours, the terror of opinion, have thus far kept us where we are, and have rendered change impossible; but, for our children's sake, it is indeed to be fond

morals in favour of that pretension. Still, however false the theory, there it is. It holds us and it binds us; its first result is to make men odious to contemplate; its second consequence is to limit the application of the word "dress." In considering the influence and the role of dress in France, we can speak of women only;

men are outside the question for the pres

ent.

Their longing for a pleasanter sight thɛn they present themselves was natural and even praiseworthy; but when once they had pushed women on the road, they lost all control over them, women got away and culminated in the mad elegance, the wild extravagance which distinguished the Second Empire, and which, in some degree at all events, contributed to bring about the rottenness of France.

But though we are thus obliged to eliminate half a people from our field of observation, there still remains enough too much, indeed to talk about. Women's dress has become of late years one of the great questions of our time; it ranks with poor-laws, emigration, separation between Church and State, and universal suffrage. It has not yet assumed, We should not, however, forget that the as those subjects have, the character dressing of Frenchwomen has a good many of a national or political problem; the aspects. We see the more riotous eleattention of Governments has not yet ments which compose it, because, by their been avowedly directed to it; but its very nature, by the publicity which they effects have been enormous, its influence seek, they are visible to all spectators; and has been all-pervading, its importance is because the harm which they have done is really graver than that of many measures the talk of Europe. But there are other which Parliaments discuss. The absolute sides to this great subject: it is not all exclusion of the male half of a community vanity, frivolity, and expense; it contains from direct participation in outside orna- intelligence, and tact, and economy, and ment has led the men to gratify their pent- sense, and art, in their most curious develup vanity, their unsatisfied ideas of taste,opments; it is a mixture of good and bad, by excessive adornment of their women. of foolishness and wisdom, in all their Vanity must come out somehow; taste- varying shades. But its action, whatever be it good or bad - must have its say; so, be its form and consequences, is omnipresas men are limited to the eminently in- ent; no Frenchwoman escapes from it. sufficient satisfactions which the modern Dress, in some way, is her main preoccutailors offer them to the choice between pation, and that is why the matter has two buttons or one button on their sleeves, grown so big; why it has risen to the to trousers rather loose or very loose front rank amongst the questions of the they burst out in their wives and daugh- moment. This sort of language may look ters, and seek in them what they are for- like exaggeration, yet it is rigorously exbidden to enjoy in their own proper per- act, and it is applicable more or less to sons. The women have no objection to other countries besides France. The dethis system on the contrary, their mon- sire to be admired, to produce personal opoly is peculiarly agreeable to them; but effect through the covering of their bodies, it would be unjust to attribute to them is a general disposition amongst women the whole blame of the excesses which act- of European origin. In England it has ual Europe, from France downwards, offers attacked the lower classes with singular to our eye. Men have asked for these ferocity and with the most deplorable reexcesses, have stimulated them, have ad-sults; in France and elsewhere its manimired them; for the theory that women dress for women, and men for men, is an illusion: women dress to please, and to please men more than women. They have used their opportunity with audacious recklessness, but the opportunity was created for them. They did not invent it all alone; men have helped them eagerly, and cannot escape the responsibility of their acts. They may, however, reasonably invoke extenuating circumstances; they may point to their own miserable condition, and ask if their eyes are to receive no satisfaction anywhere; they may say that they are poor weak creatures, full of frailties, and that they find enjoyment in the contemplation of smart clothes on women, because they cannot admire them on themselves. They do deserve some excuse, in the origin of their action at all events.

festations have occurred mainly in the higher strata of society. The feeling which prompts it is, however, identical in all cases the satisfaction of individual vanity and the longing to tempt men; but the practical working out of the idea in France has a character of its own which we discover nowhere else.

The Frenchwoman has a sentiment of shape and colour, of varieties and fitnesses, which is proper to herself, and which women of other races do not attain, unless by rare exception. She has an instinct of singular precision in everything which relates to dress; her faculty of comparison is marvellously rapid; her innate sense of the laws of harmony in outward things attains the nature of a science. And the word science is employed here in its purest meaning, as significative of knowledge

which has been controlled and systematized virtuous satisfaction of independence, by the application of method. It is not a whatever that might be. Another, and a haphazard feeling; it is a resolute convic- far more practical solution would be to tion. It is not an accident of momentary candidly avow that though we long to experience; it is an infused faith, matured dress our wives well, we have not the and verified by patient study, thought, faintest conception how to set about it, and observation. Readiness of decision, and that, consequently, we openly and facility of execution, are the first conse- frankly follow the most perfect type we quences of this state of mind; there is no can discover, acknowledging our incapahesitation about choice, no uncertainty in city of both production and imitation, but selection; the thought is so well prepared doing our little best to atone for our selfbeforehand that the most subtle difficul- recognised inferiority, by the humble ties, the most apparently impossible solu- avowal of its existence, and by the frank tions, are disposed of with unerring cer- acceptance of a pattern. That pattern tainty. And these solutions are aided by exists in France, not amongst the rapid a handiness of fingering, a dexterity of people who have made for themselves so touch, which also are peculiar to the race, unenviable a reputation, but in another and which render possible the incarnation and a larger category of true women, who of fantastic fancies which heavier manip- regard their toilette as a legitimate source ulators could never realize. Starting with of charm, as a natural indication of their weapons such as these, served by both individual sentiment of art. head and hand, the Frenchwoman has the women who are good to look at and reached a type of dress which others may to follow; for though they do love chiffons strive to imitate but which they do not - though they do devote to their discusattain. It is not enough to copy; posses- sion a considerable portion of their time sion of the self-same objects does not and thoughts -though they, too, like the suffice; they must be put on, they must rest, lift up dress to the altitude of a great be worn, as their inventors wear them. question, they do it well and wisely, in Here, again, comes in a local virtue which a form and with a result that others may cannot be transplanted: the art of carry- be proud to emulate. It is only by dividing dress is almost purely French; not ing the subject into two distinct parts, one Englishwoman in a hundred thousand that the truth can be arrived at; fast can disguise her nationality behind foreign dressing makes up one side of it, good clothes; the indefinable peculiarities dressing makes up the other: in their which early teaching gives are beyond her moral consequences, as well as in their reach. She may struggle, but she fails; material respects, the two are entirely and although she may be quite convinced different. that she looks the part she wants to play, the least practised eye detects the sham.

But the mere fact of her would-be-imitation involves a conscious recognition of the superiority of the type imitated; we only copy what we really like and what we are desirous to resemble. There are English-women who pretend to repel with scorn the notion that they wish their dress to be mistaken for that of the Frenchwomen; but if their assumed denial were real and honest, they would not expose themselves to the necessity of making it; they would say that Englishwomen are themselves, not other people; they would create a model for their own use, peculiar to their land, and though they would gain nothing by the process-for nationally they have no idea of dress - they would at all events escape the charge of counterfeiting. It would be no joy to men if they were to do so; the eye would receive no contentment; our women would be even more abominably got up than they are at present; but we should have the

Those are

Not very long ago nearly all French women were distinguées; the social influences of the Restoration, and of Louis Philippe's reign, were mainly pure and honest, and they showed out in woman's dress with singular completeness. There was something in the air then which led the French to put grace and charm above all other attributes. On the one hand there was no rowdiness; on the other, there was nothing of what we understand by aristocracy; indeed, that peculiar aspect seems to belong exclusively to what are called the fair-haired races, particularly to the English, the Austrians, and the Swedes; but there was something quite as good, there was distinction. The women knew it, and they cherished their rare merit with infinite care and fondness. To look comme il faut was their one dream; and though the exact form of realization of the phrase varied naturally from year to year with the fluctuations of passing fashion, the object and the result remained the same. And both were reached with