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duously preparing to greet the eye of Taste || stripes of richly raised rouleaux of black

with every varied invention, when the outward pomp of sorrow shall no more be seen and Britannia's daughters shall only in silence and solitude weep over the memory of a once venerated Queen.

Since the time that our well judging and beloved Regent has shewn himself so sensibly alive to the sufferings of our manu facturers, and has abridged the outward shew of that mourning he deeply feels within, Fancy has been busy in her researches after novelty; and whoever would be convinced of this truth have only to repair to Mrs. Bell's Fashionable Repository, in St. James's street, where they will find those rare inventions and that versatility which it could scarce be imagined would have been achieved amidst the general sameness of black, white, and grey.

For out-door costume nothing can be reckoned more completely elegant than the Witchoura pelisse of black velvet lined with white sarsuet, and trimmed with real ermine. A new pelisse is also in preparation against the last change of mourning, called the Otaheitan pelisse; it will be of fine dove-colour, lined with amber; but the article which is to compose the trimming is of the most rare, expensive, and novel kind; it is entirely composed of feathers from the neck of a beautiful bird || of Otaheite, wherein variegated shades of || amber form a striking predominance.

For the walking costume nothing is so much held in estimation as a fine black chip or straw bonnet, lined with white, trimmed at the edge with a quilling of net, and surmounted by black feathers; or the Mary Scott bonnet, of black satin, ornameuted with stripes of spotted velvet. For the carriage a black velvet college cap, with rich silk tassels depending from the middle of the crown over the left side, is in high favour.

White crape and fiue clear musliu petticoats over white or French grey satiu, with grey satin or black satin and spotted velvet boddice, are amongst the newest order of dresses for the general change of mourning. But the most novel and elegant evening costume cousists of a petticoat of black Italian gauze; and this classical and beautiful skirt is ornamented from the Bole invention and taste of Mrs. Bell, with

satin, with a full coquillage ornament commencing at the border and extending nearly half way up the petticoat in three alternate rows; this shell-work is formed of gauze and satin: the body worn with it is of black satin, velvet either plain or spotted, beautifully ornamented with jet and floize trimming, or else the sombre hue is finely relieved by a white satin body ornamented with pearls; the petticoat, which will be always worn over white at the change of mourning, is called the Gallician dress.

The Madrid robe is also another novelty for fancy mourning; it is of black spotted gauze, with broad flounces of white figured tulle of a rich pattern, each flounce caught up in festoons, and edged with a light and elegant floize silk trimming.

Amongst the most admired head-dresses for full dress, is the Belgrade turban, with jet ornaments, and the Seraskier plume placed in front; the turban is formed of white crape, and the plume is black. The turban cap is also a favourite head-dress for the evening; it is composed of white crape and pearls. The Marechale turban promises also to be much in requisition at the Opera and the rout this winter. It is of white crape, and formed in the Persian style. On the left side of the forepart is placed a beautiful aigrette in the form of those ornaments of jewels called by the French esprits: this is a most superb headdress.

Cabinet of Taste;

OR MONTHLY COMPENDIUM OF FOREIGN
COSTUME.

By a Parisian Correspondent.

COSTUME OF PARIS.

My last accounts which I had prepared for you of the fluctuating fashions of this metropolis, remained unfinished when I read that the royal mother of your nation was no more. I offer you many thanks for the trouble you took in sending me, with such dispatch, so circumstantial an account of her funeral; which was, nevertheless, such as all state funerals, in England, are in general.

"The fashion of this world passeth

away;" and the solemn observation pre- made à-la-Canezou, with puckered epausents itself, even when treating of the || lettes, buttons, and loops. Some ladies fickle changes adopted by the motley Goddess: those I last recorded have passed over to the different departments amongst our fair provincials; and now be it my task to inform you of what is reckoned most elegant in this capital of Fashion's undisputed empire.

The out-door costume consists of a pelisse of fine Merino cloth, confined round the waist with a simple band of figured satin or velvet; which, if the pelisse is a light green, the band is always a shade lighter. The sleeves are made to set closer to the arms than formerly. Witzchouras are very prevalent, and are worn over cambric dresses, which still maintain their station, and are often, with a black velvet spenser, the prevailing morning costume for the early promenade. At the Thuilleries, the hats are all of black velvet, and are worn extremely plain; some black velvet hats are made in the shape of a riding hat, and are ornamented with a gold band; and are bound, at the edge, with gold lace. Grey hats, of Gros-de-Naples, are invariably worn, at present, by the ladies belonging|| to the court; and white swansdown is much used as a trimming to these hats. Bonnets of sea-green shag silk, trimmed with white,|| are also in much requisition. Violet-coloured hats, which are yet in favour, are either lined with grass-green or lemoncolour. White hats are trimmed with very broad yellow ribbands, in large plaits: a border of white down feathers, on a hat of green Gros-de-Naples, is much admired by our fashionists: some shag silk hats are trimmed with ribbands edged with Astracan fur-these are called Moscow ribbands; and to give a relief to the somewhat heavy and wintry appearance of these hats, they are surmounted by a plume of white heron's feathers, some of which droop, others are spiral.

The gowns are chiefly made of white Merino crape, with flounces of the same, edged with green embroidery; these flounces are headed with a tufted trimming, the same colour as the embroidery, which, if|| the gown is violet colour, is blue, and if amaranth, the embroidery is white: the waists are longer than last month, and increase in length every day: the body is

wear a dress of white Merino crape, ornamented with scarlet brandenburghs from the top to the bottom; the gown is flounced with the same article as the dress, with three flounces, and over the last of these flounces is a row of rich embroidery of white embossed work.

At the Theatres, and other public spectacles, dress hats are much worn; they are shaped like the toque hats so much in favour last autumn, and are ornamented with ostrich or marabout feathers. Undress caps have a kind of half-handkerchief over them, the corner of which hangs down behind. The newest cornette is called the toque cornette; the head-piece of which is formed of net, in a kind of large runner, through which is seen a coloured ribband: for the breakfast table, these cornettes are of thin muslin, with embroidered muslin

crowns.

Young ladies adorn their hair with wreaths of flowers, formed of Turkish poppies and palm-leaves, intermingled; the poppies are white, striped with either violet, cherry-colour, or light yellow.

Black velvet toques, ornamented with gold lace and ostrich feathers, are most in favour for full dress: though many ladies who have fine hair prefer a festoon of gauze, surmounted by feathers. In balfdress, village caps are all the rage; they are made of tulle, and are ornamented with white, yellow, or scarlet ribbands, with bows, and sometimes a wreath of roses or small tulips.

Fans are again in great requisition; those most admired are called surprise fans, and appear as if broken they are made of mother-of-pearl, ivory, tortoise-shell, and cedar, curiously carved to imitate lace.

The favourite colours are violet, wild poppy, and grass-green.

DRESS OF THE TURKISH LADIES AT
ALEXANDRIA.

THEY wear over the head a long white veil, which entirely conceals their hair and every part of their face, except the eyes, when they go abroad; in their houses they wear an elegant kind of cap, called a beretta, which is embroidered with gold, and

tastefully fastened on one side; their hair, which is very long, is divided in plaits, which descend to their ancles; at the end of each of these braids are three sequins suspended, and which, when they walk, make a jingling like bells; this custom, of very high antiquity, may be seen in the prophet Isaiah, where he complains of the luxuries of his times. Their necklaces are composed of sequins and pearls; and their loose robes are made of very fine India muslin, worked with ornamental figures in the richest colours. They wear yellow half-boots very loose, so that the elegance of a neat ancle is never displayed. Over these half-boots they put on large yellow slippers when they go out. Nothing can be more tasteful than the scarf of white crape, richly embroidered in gold and silver, which they throw over their dress with the most graceful negligence.

REMARKS

ON THE PROGRESSIVE IMPROVEMENTS IN FASHIONS AND DRESS.

Ir is requisite to revert back only as far as the era of 1777 in order to prove, what I have so sedulously endeavoured to main tain, that the females of the present day have, in most articles of dress, infinitely better taste than their grandmothers.

At that period, the lovely oval face, and well-shaped head, were disguised by two swagging curls, loaded with powder and pomatum, laying on the shoulders, and brought to meet almost under the chin; while the hair, turned up behind, and floating in a heavy bag, hung down to the small of the waist, bedewing the black or dark silk gown with a plentiful supply of grease and powder: this powder was of a pale yellow; and the other part of the hair, besides the curls and bag, was arranged à la herison (hedgehog), and to which, it must be acknowledged, it bore a very classical resemblance. A garland of flowers was often placed on the left side of this bristly appearance. The dress was called a Circassian; which was a gown left open in front, and generally of white, or a light coloured silk or satin, with green, white, or pink satin petticoats. They wore crimped ribband sashes, with tassels at the ends;

and these sashes, and the cuffs of their gowns, were the same colour as the petticoat, which was always different to that of the gown. They also wore a gown called an Italian night-gown, with a fancy petticoat and short gauze apron; the gown generally trimmed with the same gauze as the apron with this dress was worn a French stuffed hoop, of very small dimensions, and not ungraceful in shewing off the folds of the robe to advantage, while it imparted slenderness to the waist: something like this, though we must say with improvement, is aimed at in the Nelson of the present day; but my fair countrywomen are apt to place this part of their dress too high, and, by that means, appear round-shouldered, while the fine bend of the back is entirely lost.

The shoes of the belles, in the spring of 1777, were of silk, the same colour as the gown, and they wore short black gauze cloaks. The stays were made very low, and the very thin gauze handkerchiefs were no shield to the exposed bust of the females of that period. They certainly added to the beautiful colour of a snowy bosom, and rendered thereby the exposure certainly more attractive than that of the bared shoulders of the present day, when thrust on the sickened sight, and becomes every ill-made, brown-coloured bust is an object of disgust instead of admiration. MARCUS.

(To be continued occasionally.)

Though we seldom introduce rhyme in any other department but in that devoted to Poetry, yet the following lines which lately met our eye, addressed to a fair Quaker, we could not but highly admire, and have assigned them a place here, as most appropriate to their subject :—

LINES

SENT TO A YOUNG LADY, MEMBER OF THE
SOCIETY OF FRIENDS.

They may rant of their costume, and brilliant
head-dresses,

"A-la-Grecque, d-la-Français," or what else they will,

They may talk of tiaras which glitter in tresses, Enwreathed by the Graces, and braided with skill;

Yet, when all's said and done, to my eye the | And well do I know that the sisterhood numbers,

drab bonnet

Is the loveliest of any, and chief when it wears, Not only the bright gloss of neatness upon it,

But beneath the expression benevolence bears: Then let Fashion exult in her vapid vagaries, From her fascinations my favourite is free; Be Folly's the head gear which momently varies, But a bonnet of drab is the neatest to me. Though stately the ostrich-plame gracefully throwing

Its feathery flashes of light to the eye, Though tasty and trim the straw bonnet when glowing

With its ribbands so brilliant of varions dye; Yet somehow, or other, though none can seem duller

Than a simple drab bonnet to many a gaze, It is, and it will be, the favourite colour

Round which, with fresh fondness, my fancy

still plays;

And it well suits my Muse with a garland to wreath it,

And echo its praises with gratefullest glee, For knowing the goodness that oft lurks beneath it,

The bonnet of drab beats a turban with me. Full many a rare gem the poet hath chaunted, In the depths of the ocean flings round it its sheen,

And "full many a flower," its beauties uncounted,

Springs to life, sheds its perfume, and withers

unseen.

Arrayed in that liberty coxcombs reprove, Forms as fair as e'er flash'd on a poet's sweet slumbers,

And faces as lovely as ever taught love. This I know, and have felt, and thus knowing and feeling,

A recreant minstrel I surely should be, If my heart felt attachment, and fondness concealing,

The bonnet of drab were unhonoured hy me. I have basked in the full blaze of beauty and fashion,

Have seen these united in gifts rich and rare, And crown'd with a heart that could cherish compassion,

And, by sympathy, soften what sorrow must share;

Yet acknowledging this, which I can do sincerely,

Still the highest enjoyment this bosom e'er

knew,

The glance which it treasures most fondly and dearly,

Beam'd from under a bonnet of drab coloured

bue.

'Twas my pleasure and pride,—it is past, and hath perish'd,

Like the track of a ship in the deep heaving

sea;

But its loveliness lives, its remembrance is cherish'd,

And a bonnet of drab is the sweetest to me!

MONTHLY MISCELLANY;

INCLUDING VARIETIES CRITICAL, LITERARY, AND HISTORICAL.

THE THEATRES.

DRURY-LANE.

still wearing his idiot's guise. Tullia, the tyrant's wife, who drove her chariot over the dead body of her father, is disturbed by dreams and predictions." The fall of Tarquin shall be effected by a fool." Such was the prophecy that roused her fears, of which the object is Lucius Junius Brutus. She sends for him, but is quiet

THE managers at Drury-Lane have, at length, succeeded in producing a very attractive drama; and we now most sincerely hope that a succession of overflowing audi-ed ences will give a just return to the laudable efforts of the Committee and their manager, to support this ancient and respectable concern, In Kean and Mrs. West they have their due share of public attraction.

by his seeming imbecility. The memorable wager is now made at the camp, and Collatinus and the younger Tarquin set out instantly for Rome, to make trial of the excellence of their becomes enamoured-returns the next night wives. They visit Lucretia—Sextus Tarquinius

alone, and by the infamy of his crime provokes The new tragedy of Brutus attracts the genius of Roman liberty and justice. Sexnightly such audiences as it well merits.tus, on his return, meets Brutus, and relates to It is attributed to the pen of Mr. Howard Payne, a young gentleman of much active merit and future promise. We here annex a sketch of the plot.

The play opens at the camp of Ardea, near Rome, after the return of Brutus from Delphi,

him his adventure. The latter throws off the mask, starts forth into his real character, and assails the wretch with indignant curses. Lucretia sends for her husband: he arrives with Brutus and her father. She makes her memorable speech, and kills herself. Brutus swears upon the reeking dagger to revenge her, and give

Rome freedom. His friends join him in the oath. Brutus addresses the people; they shut the gates against the tyrant, and tear down his palace, Tullia is condemned by Brutus to be imprisoned in Rhea's Temple, which contained her father's || tomb. She is brought there horror-struck, and dies at the monumental statue of her father, which, in her frenzy, she fancied was his spectre. The consular government is now established, and the conspiracy of the young nobles of Rome is discovered. The son of the consul is among them. He had been won by his love of Tarquina, the tyrant's daughter, who had saved his life.

Now comes the trial of the soul of Brutus. He judges, and condemns his son-gives the signal for his execution-sees it doue behind the scenes-loses the Roman in the father, when the axe gives the fatal blow-falls into the arms of his brother consul, and the curtain falls.

The nuity of time, it will be observed, is wholly discarded; but the simplicity of the action is observed, and even the unity of place is not very palpably violated by the changes of scene between Rome, Arden, and Collatium.

The author of this play has taken advantage; very freely, of Lee's play on this subject, and he is also indebted to Voltaire. The traces of Lee were chiefly observable in the earlier scenes, which were by far the most poetical. There are several plays on this subject; but the structure of the tragedy before us has noi, as far as we know, been taken from any of them. We should judge, on the contrary, that the author took the subject us he found it in Livy, one of the most eloquent, and decidedly the most dramutic of historians; that he sketched out his play on his own views, aud, in completing his work, took advantage of the best scenes which be found to his purpose in other plays on the

same subject. It was brought out with great splendour. There was, perhaps, rather too much shouting and spectacle. There are two processions in the first act: this was at least one too many. We should recommend that several scenes should be shortened: the length of the play admits of curtailment. There is one alteration which we think of the utmost importauce: it is, that Lucretia should not appear a second time. Let her die behind the scenes, and let Brutus rush in with the dagger, hot and reeking with her blood. Mr. Kean's narration will be more effective than the action of Mrs.

Robinson. The close of the fourth act also requires some alteration: the two first acts were very good; and two scenes of the fifth, excellent. The character of Brutus was performed with great ability and effect by Mr. Kean: the transitions from seeming idiotey to intellectual

and moral elevation, were powerful, natural, and unexaggerated. There was, perhaps, some want of the antique classic grandeur which we associate with the elder Brutus; but on the other band, there were fine touches of energy and pa No. 117.-Vol. XVIII.

thos. In this, as in other parts, his insatiable love of points led him into the mistake of breaking up into splendid fragments, passages, the poetical merit of which could be conveyed only by calm and dignified declamation. There was also an affectation of tinsel and frippery in his costume. It was a gross fault to dress differently from his brother consul, independently of the violation of the character of Brutus. All the other characters were subordinate. Titus, the son of Brutus, and Sextus, were respectably played by Mr. Fisher and Mr. H. Kemble.Mrs. Glover represented the remorse and frenzy of Tullia, with force; and Mrs. West produced some good effects in Tarquina.

A new farce has also been performed at this theatre, entitled, Is he alive; or, All Puzzled. It was produced originally at the close of the last season, on the occa sion of Mr. Knight's benefit; and the reception which it then met, encouraged the managers to bring it forward on their own the farce was well received, and announced account. The experiment has succeeded; for repetition with applause. The plot, though simple in itself, is not very clearly developed. The humour is not of that broad cast which generally distinguishes farce from comedy; but it is without affectation, and cousequently entitled, so far, to praise.

COVENT-GARDEN.

Two or three old dramas have been rethe Earl of Warwick and the Castle Specvived at this theatre, and, amongst them, tre. The former play was very judiciously reduced from five acts into three, and was thus about one-third more tolerable than in its original state. We have not the smallest objection to these reductions by the stage and acting managers. The tragedy is heavy and duff, and the very best actors, we should think, would find it very difficult to render it more than tolerable. Mr. Macready's personation of Warwick was distinguished by great strength of conception and execution. Mr. Abbott acquitted himself creditably in Edward; but the chief novelty, for the introduction of which the play seemed to have been selected, was the performance of Margaret of Anjou by Miss Somerville. This lady possesses considerable powers of declamation, not unmixed with feeling and pathos, but Nu

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