Chapter IX (2)

I gazed upon the sunny stream,
And thought of sunny faces,
And wonder'd how such gentle waves
Could leave such angry traces.

Again I stood within the hall
Where Wealth her glow was shedding;
The spacious dome seem'd lighted up
For some grand princely wedding.

The moon look'd down on golden spires,
As if to give a greeting;
One would have thought, amid the show,
'Twas Pleasure's natal meeting.

Yet there, within that hall, that night
I saw the discontented;
I saw pale faces mark'd with care,
Like spirits unrepented.

I gazed upon the princely hall
Where wealth had blown her bubble,
And wonder'd how, amid such show,
There could be aught of trouble.

And thus, I said, amid Life's glare--
Amid this world of hurry--
'Tis true that "tongues we find in trees,
And sermons in the quarry!"

Our life is like yon little stream,
Where ripples are retreating;
And Pleasure, though array'd in smiles,
Hath spots where Care is eating.

Our life is like a summer stream
That lulls us into slumber;
We dream we're happy for a while,
While waves in countless number,

Though gentle in their ceaseless flow,
Are every day and morrow,
Still chafing in the shores of Life
Some secret marks of sorrow!

* * * * *

BRIGHT FLOWERS FOR HER I LOVE.

BY WILLIAM RODERICK LAWRENCE.

BRIGHT flowers for her I love
Yes, flowers rich and rare,
The rose-bud and the violet
To grace her golden hair;
Yet nature's gems--though beautiful
And pure and bright they be--
Are not so fair as she I love,
Or beautiful to me.

Rare gems for her I love!
All sparkling in their light,
A diadem to grace that brow
So beautifully bright;
Yet earthly crowns must fade--
Immortal crowns above
Alone are worthy to be sought
By her I fondly love.

Music for her I love!
Melodiously low,
Breathed soft from harps whose golden strings
With songs of rapture glow;
Such music as the angels make
In worlds of light above--
Such music would I have to cheer
The heart of her I love.

And peace for her I love!
The peace religion brings,
Renouncing fleeting, transient joys
For bright and heavenly things;
Let happiness be hers,
And heaven her rest above;
May this, my prayer, accepted rise
For her I truly love.

* * * * *

STANZAS.

BY HELEN HAMILTON.

THOUGH thou art dying, yet I may not weep
Such grief I leave to those who part for years;
_We_ only part for days; it may be--hours;
We have no need of tears.

Ere thy last kiss is cold upon my lips,
Thy dying clasp is loosened from my hand;
I will be with thee--thou but goest before
Into the better land.

When thou hast reached Heav'n's golden portal, pause
And cast one look adown Death's shadowy road;
I will be near, nor tremble as I walk
The road thou first hast trod.

Would that together we might pass away!
Would that one sound might ring our passing knell!
Yet soon we'll meet where partings are unknown;
For the last time--farewell.

* * * * *

SONNET.--NATURE.

BY WM. ALEXANDER.

NATURE! Well hath the Poet said: "Who can
Paint like to thee?" Inimitably fine
Seem all the hues and colorings of thine,
Though microscopic eye may closely scan:
Close search but lifts the mystic veil that hides
Thy scenes of beauty. In the tiny cup
Of thy fair flowers, what wonders open up!
Lo! a whole insect nation there resides,
Clad in rich vests of fine embroidery,
Or coats of living purple, green, and gold.
Such fairy scenes, so constantly unrolled,
Declare design most manifest to be;
And the least path Omnipotence hath trod
Exhibits footprints of our glorious God.

* * * * *

TO ONE WHO RESTS.

BY WINNIE WOODFERN.

I THOUGHT my heart had cast away
Each memory of its early day;
I thought nor grief, nor change, nor fear,
Could teach these eyes to shed a tear;
And yet, a very child I be,
Alas, I still remember thee!

I often gaze with heart unmoved
On lips that smile like thine, beloved;
I often catch a deep low tone,
That bears the music of thine own;
Yet pass, without a tear or smile,
My pulses calm and cool, the while.

Thou, dearest, hast been linked to me
By things which never more can be;
By memories of that lovely place,
That village, _quiet in its grace_,
Like lilies, in the summer air,
That stir not; knowing they are fair.

And those who trod its mossy walks,
And shared with me those woodland talks,
'Till our hearts, hungry for the pain
Of loving, to be loved again,
Learned the deep meaning of a word
Which had been better never heard.

Thou, and thy love, were of that time
When life was but a passion--rhyme;
When I knew not that care might come
Even to that sweet mountain home;
When stars and streams and flowers were part
Of this, then calmly beating heart.

So, when the martyr's cross was mine,
I chose another love than thine;
Our hearts, but not our souls, were mates,
Our love the same, but not our fates;
And he who, in these later years,
Seeks me, seeks also scorching tears.

'Tis long since I have breathed thy name!
It once could turn my heart to flame;
But now, so changed and cold am I,
I only speak it with a sigh,
That dreams, whose proper home is Heaven,
To hearts o'ertasked with Earth, are given!

Oh, long forsaken! no fond dream,
Floating (like flowers on a stream),
Down the wild current of my mind,
Counts o'er the joys I've left behind,
A little thing has drawn these tears,
For thee, and for our early years!

A moment since I cast a look
Within the pages of a book
Which thou to me hast often read,
Thy shoulder pillowing my head;
A faint, sweet perfume thence arose;
_There lay thy gift_--a faded rose!

It was as if an altar burned
With sacrifices, and I turned--
Beloved, do not think me weak!
Tears, wild with grief, fled down my cheek,
And to my lips arose a prayer
That I might _die_ while pausing there!

My song is o'er; 'twill only tell,
To some who know and love me well,
At times, within my inmost soul,
Are thoughts I cannot quite control,
Because they breathe and speak of thee,
Who can be nothing now to me!

* * * * *

THEY SAY THAT SHE IS BEAUTIFUL.

BY MARY GRACE HALPING.

THEY say that she is beautiful;
They praise that speaking eye,
That fair and softly rounded cheek,
Its bright and changeful dye,
That pure and polished brow that towers
Like ivory temple high.

But is that radiant being fair
The light and joy of _home?_
Doth from its loving inmates there
Her heart forget to roam?
Oh, is she not as false and fair
As ocean's snowy foam?

They say, unlike the tones of earth
Rings out that music free;
But only from the halls of mirth
Are heard those tones of glee;
They say that she is beautiful--
She is not so to me.

I've seen that sweet and smiling lip
Give back a stern reply;
I've seen the cloud of passion dim
That proudly glorious eye,
And on that pure transparent brow
The shade of anger lie.

I know that outward beauty sits
Upon that queenly brow;
Before its proud and gorgeous shrine
Doth man admiring bow,
While she, with false, capricious smile,
Repays each idle vow.

I know with seeming truth doth flash
That darkly radiant eye,
Yet beauty oft will sell for cash
What love can never buy,
Aside a loving heart will dash
That time and change defy.

Upon the thickly crowded street,
I many a form have past,
Whom grace gave not proportion meet
From beauty's model cast,
To whom the _soul_ a glory lends
A radiance that will last,
When beauty's tender floweret bends
Before time's wintry blast.

Yet _there_ I see no loving _heart_,
No spirit pure and free,
Though like a whited sepulchre
An outward gloss may be;
They say that she is beautiful,
She is not so to me.

* * * * *

ODE TO THE AIR IN MAY.

BY NICHOLAS NETTLEBY.

AWAKE, O Muse! my trembling pen inspire!
Infuse my words with unpolluted song;
Touch every line with thine own sacred fire,
And bear me by thy impulses along!

To thee, sweet Air, that dost around me play,
Touching ethereally each silv'ry string
That vibrates in the golden Harp of May,
To thee I dedicate this offering.

Soft, gentle Air! unnumbered missions thine,
Missions of mercy, kindness, and of love;
Guardian to man thou art, almost divine,
Doing below as angel hosts above.

Thine is it, Air, at morn's first op'ning light,
To hang rich curtains in the eastern sky,
Which, casting back their own refulgence bright,
Proclaim to earth that glorious day is nigh.

Thine is the task, as heaven's all-wondrous orb
Fills the eternal arch that o'er us spans,
Within thyself its fiercest rays t' absorb,
And make its milder, softer radiance man's.

O'er the broad earth thou wingest; every day
Lighting bright smiles in mansions high and low;
Blessings uncounted strewing in thy way,
Bright'ning the eye, kindling the cheek with glow.

When burning fever mantles o'er the brow,
And dire disease foretells the angel Death,
Welcome is thy refreshing entrance. Now
Gold hath not there the sweetness of thy breath.

With flowers thou lov'st to sport in fondest glee,
Sipping from velvet cups their rich perfume;
Thou lov'st to dally with the old oak-tree,
And with its broad green crest sweetly commune.

That sombre cloud that far on high is seen,
Shading the earth from Sol's intensest rays,
Is upward borne by thee, a wondrous screen,
Which both thy goodness and thy power displays.

Within our path thy liquid waves are found,
Constant attendant upon every hour,
Bearing unto us many a moving sound,
And messages from each surrounding flower.

And if (when weary of a long repose),
Thou dost invite an earth-refreshing storm,
When three-tongued lightnings in the heavens disclose
Terrific thunderclouds of grandest form,

Mantling the sky in blackest robes of night,
And rushing onward in confusion dire,
While deep explosions cause the timid fright,
And heaven and earth are filled with lurid fire;

Then is it that thy majesty we love;
Then we behold the wonders of thy power;
Thou hold'st the elements that rage above,
And guidest them in that sublimest hour!

But over thee, sweet Air, another hand,
Higher and stronger, holier than thine own,
Presides. 'Tis He, who by a seraph band,
Is circled round. HE upon Heaven's Throne!

* * * * *

ANNOYANCE.

BY BEATA.

I WAS thinking of the "Godey;" that it was out I knew,
The month was just beginning, and the papers said so too;
"A charming number," "brilliant," "a treat for ladies all,"
And I wished to see its contents, and read "Fashion" on the fall.

A rainy afternoon it was--not a dashing, roaring rain,
With a trumpet-sounding wind, or a stirring hurricane;
It did not rattle 'gainst the glass a lively, merry chime,
But a dull and dreary drizzle, a stupid, yawning time.

I almost had a mind to venture on the street,
But I do detest the pavements, even when they're clean and neat;
So I thought upon the "Godey," with its fresh and uncut page,
And longed for something pretty, my moments to engage.

It struck me that some pleasant chat would restore a cheerful tone,
And rising with a sigh (for I, musing, sat alone),
I gathered up my sewing and quickly took my way,
Where it always wears an aspect bright, despite a rainy day.

But scarcely had I entered, ere there fell, distinct and clear,
The sound of _cutting pages_ upon my wondering ear;
There sat my quiet brother, this dismal afternoon,
With my number in his hand, as I perceived full soon.

I asked, "Is that 'Littell' you have?" but I knew only too well
The answer which I should receive, that it was not "Littell;"
And had he read my wishes, and offered me the "Book,"
I would not have accepted; but I love the first, fresh look.

So I waited very patiently, and my reward was near;
I saw that he was pleased, though it cost me rather dear;
And when the day was closing, and the rain at last was done,
I enjoyed the precious "Godey," and the glorious setting sun.

* * * * *

'TIS O'ER.

BY I. J. STINE.

'TIS o'er! the tender tie is broke
Which bound my heart so close to thee;
Though painful, though severe the stroke,
I now can smile that I am free.
The grief, the sorrow, and the woe
That I was called to undergo,
The bitter pangs, the heartfelt pain,
All, all have ceased their tyrant reign.

'Twas but a moment's pain, 'tis gone;
I'm happy, though unhappy now;
And Melancholy, meek and wan,
Sits peaceful on my thoughtful brow.
The world, with all its loss and gain,
Me neither pleasure gives nor pain;
With thee, false, heartless one, with thee
I lost all joy--all misery.

OUR PRACTICAL DRESS INSTRUCTOR

DESCRIPTION OF THE ENGRAVING.

_Headdress of the Lady on the Right._--Hair in bandeaux _à la Niobe;_ torsade of pearls. Moire dress, low body, with progressive revers opening over a modestie of embroidered muslin edged with lace; short open sleeves _à la Watteau;_ undersleeves of embroidered muslin; half-long gloves; bracelets of pearls, or more often worn different, according to choice.

_The other Figure_ (_Lady seated_).--Cap of tulle trimmed with lace and ribbon. Low body, with revers open to waist; loose bell-shaped sleeves, edged with a bouillonne; two skirts trimmed with the same; modestie of embroidered muslin, edged with point de Venise; black velvet bracelets, half-long gloves, and Venetian fan.

DESCRIPTION OF DIAGRAMS.

(_See next page._)

Fig. 1.--Front of body as shown in the engraving.

Fig. 2.--Back of body, by placing the letters _a_ _a_.

Fig. 3.--The cape sommet worn for evening dress. Place the letters _b_ _b_, the upper part of the cape forming an epaulette over the shoulder.

Fig. 4.--The sleeve, showing the muslin sleeve underneath, as in the engraving, _à Watteau_ shape, fastened by a bow of ribbon. We have given the pattern of the whole sleeve.

* * * * *

The above figure is a handsome pattern for a sofa. The castors are sunk in the legs.]

* * * * *

WORK-TABLE FOR JUVENILES;

OR,

LITTLE MARY'S HALF-HOLIDAY.

"WELL, my dear, I am glad to see you ready for work again."

"Here are six yards of pink satin ribbon, about an inch wide, some pink sarsnet, some card-board, black net, and plaited straw. What kind of straw is it, mamma?"

"It is called straw-beading, and is employed in the same way that split straw was once used; but as it is flexible, and to be had in any length, it is much more easily worked. Besides the things you have mentioned, there is some pink sewing silk, and a little stiff muslin. Now you have all your materials complete, and I have only to show you how to use them. Begin by cutting out the shape for the back of the watch-pocket. Here is a drawing of it. It is 7 inches long, and 4½ in the widest part. Mark the depth of three inches from the bottom, and form this into a half round, then cut it into a point from the widest part to the top. The lower part, which is for the pocket, is thus three inches deep, and the top four inches. You will require two pieces of card-board of this shape and size, which must be covered on both sides with pink silk. Tack them together round the edges."

"These pieces are for the backs. Are the fronts of the pockets made of card-board, too?"

"No; you will use the stiff muslin for them. They must be in the half circle form, 3 inches deep, but 5½ inches wide at the top. They must also be covered with silk on both sides. Now cut out two pieces of black net, rather larger than the backs, and two more (also allowing for turnings in) for the fronts. Do you remark anything peculiar in the net?"

"It is like the imitation netting you brought from Paris, mamma; is it not? The holes are perfect diamonds, and much larger than in any English net."

"Yes, it is part of that I brought with me. Being so open, it is easy to slip the straw through it. Take the end of the straw, pass it under two threads, and over three, in one line. Cut it off close to the edge of the net. Run in as many lines as you can in the same direction, but with intervals of four holes, five threads between them. Cross them with others in the same way, both straws passing under the _same_ hole when they cross. All the four pieces of net must be worked in the same way, and then tacked on, to cover the silk on one side. Now sew the fronts to the backs. The ribbon trimming must now be prepared. It is to be quilled in the centre, in the way called _box_ quilling; that is, one plait must be to the right, and the next to the left. Do enough for the top of each pocket separately, and put it on, then a length to go completely round. Finish each pocket with a knot of ribbon at the point, and a small loop to pin it to the bed."

"Do you know, mamma, I was inclined to think you had not matched the sarsnet and ribbon well? The sarsnet looked so much the darker. Now they correspond perfectly. How is that?"

"You forget that the sarsnet is covered with net, which softens the depth of the tint considerably. Had the covering been muslin, it must have been still deeper, to correspond with the uncovered ribbon. It is for want of the consideration of these small points that there is so frequently a want of harmony in the tints of amateur needlewomen."

"And now, mamma, what next? For I have a good deal of spare time still."

"You said you would like to work papa a pair of slippers, so I have contrived a design for you, which will use up all your remnants of wool. We will call it the dice pattern. Of each color you may use, you will require two shades with black and white. You can mark on your canvas the outline of the slippers with a soft pen and ink; then work from the drawing I have made, beginning at the toe. You may use any number of colors, only let them be well chosen, and falling in stripes. Do not put green and blue, or any other two colors which do not blend well, close together. You may try the effect with shades in the following order: violet, orange, green, crimson, blue. That part which is quite white in the drawing is done in white wool, and there are two spotted squares which are to be black. Then the upper side of each die is in the darker shade of whatever color may be used, and the under light. Fill it up with black. If you work on Penelope canvas, you will find it much easier."

* * * * *

EMBROIDERY.--DRESS UNDERSLEEVE.

(_See Brown Cut in front of Book._)

_Materials._--Half a yard of fine Swiss muslin; embroidery cotton, No. 100.

TRACE the pattern upon the muslin with a quill pen and blue mixed with gum-water; make the leaves, stems, and flowers in raised satin stitch; the circles in button-hole stitch, either making them close or open, as may be preferred; if close, a raised spot must be worked in the centre of each. Work the edge in button-hole stitch.

* * * * *

PATTERNS FOR EMBROIDERY.

* * * * *

EVANGELINE AND ANTOINETTE.

(See engravings on page 385.)

EVANGELINE.--Silk embroidered, and trimmed with two rows of guipure lace--one row of lace round the yoke, and one about ten inches from the bottom, each row headed with a narrow quilling of ribbon, which also goes down the front and round the neck. On the yoke and between the rows of lace there is handsome embroidery.

ANTOINETTE. _An entirely new pattern._--The mantilla is entirely formed of rows of lace or pinked silk on a silk or thin foundation.

* * * * *

LACE MANTILLA AND TABLET MANTILLA.

(See engravings on page 388.)

LACE MANTILLA.--This mantilla has three capes--the first is in depth twenty-three inches, the second eighteen inches, and the third fourteen inches, with lace edging to match. The collar is six inches in depth, with a bow of ribbon behind.

TABLET MANTILLA.--_Material._ Watered or plain silk. It is made with a yoke, and falls low on the shoulders. For trimming, it is cut in turrets, trimmed with narrow braid and netted fringe sewed underneath.

* * * * *

MARQUISE AND NAVAILLES.

(See engravings on page 389.)

MARQUISE.--_Silk Pelisse._ The body is close; it is trimmed with three rows of goffered ribbons disposed in arcades, and terminated at each point by loops of ribbons one over the other. A row of ribbons runs round the bottom of the body, which has also a lace trimming that falls over the opening of the sleeve. The skirt falls in flutes; it has three rows of ribbons and a lace flounce.

NAVAILLES.--_Shawl-Mantelet_, of taffetas trimmed with lace, fringe, and silk ribbons having velvet stripes. It opens like a shawl in front, and comes high behind. A lace of two inches in width turns down on the neck as far as the bow on the breast; a point falls behind like a little shawl, and is bordered with a ribbon sewed on flat, and a lace of about five inches, besides a fringe; in front this lace forms a bertha. The lower part of the garment, sewed on under the point, is rounded, and hangs in flutes behind. It is bordered with the same ribbon, accompanied by the same, and fringe. The ends in front are pointed.

* * * * *

SPRING FASHIONS.

(See engraving on page 390.)

Fig. 1. _Dress._--Skirt of steel-colored gray silk, without any trimming. Sachet of black velvet; the front opening to a point, and the basque rounded and edged with a deep fall of black lace set on rather full. The sleeves, which are demi-long and loose at the ends, are likewise edged with lace chemisette and undersleeves of worked muslin. A round cap of Honiton lace, the front edged with pointed vandykes. The cap is ornamented at each side with bows of ribbon having long flowing ends, edged with fringe. The ribbon has a white ground, and is figured with a pattern similar to that called the Victoria plaid. The bows are intermingled with bouquets of white roses. Hair bracelets, with snaps of gold and turquoise.

* * * * *

Fig. 2. _Little Girl's Dress._--Frock of dark blue glacé; the skirts ornamented with four narrow ruches of ribbon, placed two and two together. The corsage is in the jacket style, half high in the neck, and fitting closely to the form. The basque is edged with a double ruche of ribbon, which is carried up the front and round the top of the corsage. The sleeves just descend below the turn of the elbow, and are trimmed at the end with ribbon ruche. The undersleeves are of jaconet muslin, drawn in a full puff, confined at the wrists by bands of needlework insertion. The chemisette is high to the throat, and is formed of two rows of drawn muslin, divided by a row of needlework insertion, and finished at top by a row of the same. Short trousers of white cambric muslin edged with a bordering of needlework. The front hair banded on each side of the forehead; the back hair plaited, and the plaits turned up and fastened by rows of black velvet ribbon, two bands of which are passed across the forepart of the head.

* * * * *

Fig. 3. _Promenade, or Carriage Dress._--Robe of brown gros de naples. The skirt is trimmed with ten rows of black velvet, of graduated width. The corsage is low, square in front, and partly open; the opening being confined by bands of black velvet. The corsage has a basque at the waist, cut out in castellated ends which are edged with velvet. The sleeves are slit open to the height of the shoulder, and the opening is confined by bands of velvet, like those in front of the corsage. The chemisette is of worked muslin, and trimmed with Valenciennes lace. Undersleeves to correspond. Bonnet of white silk, ornamented with vine leaves and blonde. Undertrimming, a wreath of flowers.

* * * * *

DIRECTIONS FOR A LETTER-BAND.

(See engraving on page 391.)

_Materials._--One yard and a half of sarsnet ribbon, two inches
in width, and of any color preferred; one bunch of steel beads,
No. 5; some sewing silk of the same color as the ribbon, and some
perforated cardboard one row narrower than the ribbon.

Mark the letters and border with the beads on the cardboard, which should be about four inches long; also a piece about two inches square, worked with beads in any ornamental pattern; fasten the longest piece of cardboard to the ribbon in the centre, stitching it at both edges, then sew the smaller piece about two inches nearer the end of the ribbon; sew a piece of the same ribbon under this small piece of cardboard at each end--this forms a loop for the ribbon to pass through. This completes the band.

* * * * *

THE ALBUERA.

(See engraving on page 392.)

This mantilla is one of great beauty. It is made of blue glacé silk, but can be in any choice color. Lavender and lustrous pearl and mode colors look especially well, as also the greens, in this garment. Its chief peculiarity consists in its square front and its fitting so as to just cut the edge of the shoulder. It is fastened at the top by a bow; the back falls with an easy fulness; it is embroidered.

* * * * *

DIRECTIONS FOR KNITTING A WORK-BASKET.

TAKE four needles, cast three stitches on each, knit plain round once; put thread over needle; knit once so all round. Then plain once round. Continue this process till there are five stitches between the times of widening. Plain round once; widen, knit four narrow so all round; plain round; widen, knit one, widen, knit three narrow so all round, plain round, widen, knit three, widen, knit two, narrow so all round, plain round, widen, knit five, widen, knit one, narrow so all round, plain round, widen, knit seven, widen, knit one, narrow so all round, plain round three times. Turn the basket inside out, knit three times round plain, put thread over needle and seam two in one all round, then twice plain. Continue this till you have six rows of eyelets, then two plain, three seamed, four plain. Then make one row of eyelets, knit three rows plain, hem down. Then your basket is done.

HOW TO FORM IT.--Prepare a solution of glue, dip your basket into it when it is _very wet_, wring it out, have your form ready to put it on, where it must lie for a day or two. Then you can paint it any color you like. The block on which it is put to dry can be round or not, as you prefer. If you wish a large one, cast on more stitches when you begin. Four on a needle makes a large size.

* * * * *

EMBROIDERY WITH CORD.

SPRING BONNETS.

IN accordance with the popular fashion of the day, we "open," in the present article, a group of the most tasteful bonnets of the season. We give them not only that our lady readers may see what is worn, but as models for their own fair fingers. Is it known to them that bonnet-making is now quite a fashion among those skilful in fancy-work, the most sensible branch we have seen adopted for many years? Why should not the taste and ingenuity exercised in lamp-mats of old, and crochet tidies of the present day, be as well displayed in the light and graceful task of millinery? The neatness and patience required in covering the card-board of an ingenious needle-book can be more fully exercised in disposing the folds of silk and lace on the well-shaped frame easily procured for a trifle.

The peculiar trait of the hats of the present season is the great quantity of mixed materials, as crape, silk, lace, flowers, and ribbon, on one very small structure. Great taste is to be exercised in mingling these judiciously--ornamenting, not overloading; in the first place, selecting a good model as to shape and style.

No. 1 we have chosen for its simplicity. It is composed of three rows of pink crape or silk, drawn in a puffing, with a blonde edging rather wide on each. The crown is entirely of lace, and there is a fall of the same on the cape. A knot of pink satin bows, to the right, is all the decoration of the exterior. A full cap of blonde, with one or two pink bows, carelessly disposed, inside the brim.

No. 2 shows the extreme of the shallow brim, and two-thirds of the wearer's head at the same time. It is, notwithstanding, a neat and modest-looking dress bonnet of pomona green silk, the crown piece, which is in full flutings, extending almost to the edge of the brim. This is crossed by a band of the same with bound edges (old style). The front is a very full double _ruche_ of blonde, between the two green silk cordings. A full cap of the same fills the space between the face and the brim, with a spray of flowers set very high to the right.

No. 3.--A more elaborate hat of straw-colored silk and white guipure lace. It has a small plume on the left, and has a full spray of bridal roses inside the brim.

No. 4 shows the disposition of lace and bow at the back of a crown, a great point in the millinery of the present season; a stiff crown will ruin a graceful brim.

* * * * *

PLAIN WORK.

WE often find our correspondents writing, "Are there any new patterns for underclothes?" "Can you send me a good night-cap pattern?" etc. etc. This has suggested to us the plan of publishing designs for plain as well as ornamental needlework, and we commence the present month by two selected from the large establishment of Madame Demorest, late of Canal Street, now of 375 Broadway, New York. Besides the infinite variety of outer garments, children's clothing, etc., to which we have before alluded, Madame Demorest has patterns of everything for a lady's under wardrobe, in sets or singly, so arranged as to look exactly like the garment itself; and, as they can be sent by mail, there is thus an end to the necessity of begging and borrowing in every direction through a country neighborhood.

An article of practical instructions in the art of plain-sewing, for it is, indeed, an art, will be given from time to time. It is a great pity that this knowledge has, in most cases, to be acquired by the married woman. We think it should be considered an essential part of the education of the daughter. All the pages of instruction that may be written or read upon the subject, can never give that aptitude and ease in the performance of this very necessary household duty, which would be acquired by seeing how others do it, and being taught while young to take a part in the operation. A young mother who is not a dressmaker or seamstress by profession, but who can quietly cut out and make any article of dress that may be wanted, is looked upon by her companions as a sort of marvellous prodigy. "Oh, how can you do it?" "Well, I never had any genius that way!" are their exclamations. And why have they no genius that way? In most cases, it is simply because they have been taught at some "seminary for young ladies" to despise such employments as mean and vulgar. Those who have genius enough to knit fancy patterns, or work bunches of flowers upon canvas, are quite capable of learning how to employ their needle for useful household purposes. But express a wish to those who by profession undertake the education of girls, that your children should learn to employ the needle usefully, and you will most likely be told, "Oh, we really have not time to attend to that; there is so much else that must be learned, we cannot undertake plain needlework." And what does all that is learned tend to? Frequently, to little more than a smattering of this and that, by which the learner hopes to gain admiration, and eventually a husband. Even the few years that are sometimes spent at home, between school-days and marriage, are wasted in visiting and frivolity and gaining a husband. How to fulfil those duties which such an acquisition brings upon her, seems to be a problem which may be answered by the assertion, "Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof." In many respects, those children who are taught in public schools are really better educated for domestic life than the children of the classes a rank or two higher, who are brought up in boarding-schools or day schools for young ladies. However, pages and volumes might usefully be written on the inappropriate mode of bringing up the daughters of families, who have nothing or little beside their own exertions to look to for their maintenance; but this is not our present object. Many there are who would willingly exchange the frivolities learned at school for a knowledge how to make out and plan the clothes of their families; and, for the benefit of such, we will endeavor, as far as paper and print can do it, to teach them.

Fig. 2.]

The present models are--

Fig. 1.--A night-dress with plaited front and full sleeves, an extremely neat and excellent pattern, designed and furnished by Madame Demorest. The back may be either full in a yoke, or of a sacque form.

Fig. 2 is also one of Madame Demorest's designs, a chemise, plaited front, and highly ornamented yoke, as is the present style. The embroidery is with linen floss, and will wear as long as the garment, a great matter in trimming. The shape combines neatness and ease, and will be found extremely comfortable.

EDITORS' TABLE.

WE have before us several letters from writers of influence and high consideration in different sections of our country, making inquiries respecting the progress of Female Medical Education. We cannot refuse these earnest appeals for information, and, as we trust our myriad readers will feel an interest more or less in the subject, we shall give the response to all who gather around our Table.

The third annual commencement of the Female Medical College of Pennsylvania, located in Philadelphia, was held on the 25th of February last, when the Degree of Doctor of Medicine was conferred by the President, Charles D. Cleveland, on four ladies--Elizabeth H. Bates, New York; Lucinda R. Brown, Texas; Minna Elliger, Germany; and Elizabeth G. Shattuck, Pennsylvania--the latter belonging to the Medical Missionary _protégées_ preparing to go out to China or India, as opportunity may offer. The number of students in this college during the past session was about thirty, and the applications for admittance to the privileges of the institution for the next session, commencing October 2, are already numerous and earnest.

There is only _one_ obstacle, viz., _the want of funds_. Those young women and widows wishing to enter on this study are, usually, poor. The expenses for board and books are all they can meet. If the college were endowed, so that the tuition fees for all might be reduced to the lowest sum[B] named for beneficiaries, while these last were admitted _free_ of college charges, the school would be crowded. Are there none among the rich of this city and State who will lend a helping hand to this noble work of qualifying women to become physicians for their own sex? _Fifty thousand_ dollars invested, so that the interest could be annually applied for the benefit of the institution, would be sufficient. There would thus be open a way by which those women who have talents for the profession might enter on the study. What a blessing this would be to them and to society! The sufferings which delicacy imposes on the sex, while compelled to submit their complaints to the knowledge of the male physician only, are shocking, and often fatal--because concealment leads to death. Such a state of ignorance in regard to all that pertains to the preservation of health and cure of diseases should no longer be permitted to prevail among those who have the direct and sole care of infancy, and are the nurses and watchers by the sick. The good results of educating women for the profession are thus truly set forth in the interesting "Valedictory Address," by Dr. Elwood Harvey, one of the Faculty of the Female Medical College:--

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WHAT FEMALE PHYSICIANS CAN DO.--"No intelligent person doubts that, if we were _obedient_ to the laws of health, so far as they are now understood, sickness and suffering would be greatly diminished. The average of human life would be prolonged, and its usefulness and happiness increased. In the earliest ages of which we have any recorded history, rules for the preservation of health, and regulations for the prevention of diseases, constitute a conspicuous part of the legal code."

* * * * *

"In this country, where the people govern themselves, it is the people that must be enlightened, that they may govern themselves wisely. Though there is not a more law-abiding nation on the earth, we are blessed in having but few laws to be obeyed. There is a larger individual liberty here than elsewhere, and consequently a greater individual responsibility. It is to the _people_, then, that you are to convey a knowledge of the laws that govern their being. You have ample scope for usefulness in this capacity. In your own sex, you will find wives and mothers, ignorant of their own constitutions, bringing wretchedness and misery upon themselves, discomfort and suffering upon their families, and, worse than all, entailing enfeebled constitutions and diseases upon their offspring. To enlighten these, to teach them the duty they owe to themselves, to their families, to society, to posterity, and to Him who created them, and instituted the laws they violate, is your peculiar province. Do this, and the world will owe you a debt it can never repay--but you will have your reward."

* * * * *

FEMALE PHYSICIANS WANTED.--"Some of the obstacles that oppose the entrance of the young practitioner to a remunerative practice will offer less than their usual amount of resistance to you. It commonly happens that the young physician has to wait long years of probation, during which much work has to be done for small pay before he begins to reap the full reward of his labors. Not only is it necessary for him to acquire a reputation for skill and attention to business, but a respectable age must be attained before he can hope to be employed in some of the most profitable departments of practice. With you the case is very different; there is an existing demand for your services which none others can so well supply. Each city in this country is ready to give employment to a large number of female physicians, each lesser town and country village is waiting for one or more; numerous applications from various parts of the country have been made for female physicians. At a moderate computation, we may estimate the number now in actual demand in this country at not less than five thousand. You are wanted for a kind of practice that most male physicians would gladly relinquish to you, whenever they are convinced that you have been regularly educated, and are competent to perform the duties of the position you have assumed."

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WHILE on this subject, we will give here an original article, written for our "Book" by a professor in another institution,[C] which shows that this liberal feeling towards female practitioners is fast gaining public favor in this city:--

LADIES' MEDICAL EDUCATION.--That it would be very useful and conducive to the health and happiness of families, if the mothers of families, and women in general, were familiar with the principal doctrines of anatomy, physiology, and pathology, so as to understand, to some degree, the organization, functions, and diseases of the human system, there cannot be any doubt. But whether it be in accordance with the natural position of woman in society to take upon herself the office, labors, and responsibilities of a physician is another question, which need not here be decided. So much, however, may be said with propriety, without at all deciding the question alluded to, that such ladies as are desirous of obtaining a full medical education, and devoting themselves to the study of the medical sciences in good earnest, ought not to be refused such an education, but have as much chance given to them as the other sex enjoy. For, however we may disagree respecting the propriety of woman practising medicine as a profession, certainly her _knowledge_ of medicine cannot be detrimental to the good of society. If a more general diffusion of medical knowledge among the ladies had no other effect than to enforce a higher standard of education among the physicians on one side, and to annihilate the greatest bane of ignorance, quackery, on the other side, this alone would be a sufficient reason for spreading "more light" among the ladies, though it be "medical."

We cannot, therefore, see any harm in the establishment of female medical schools, but would suggest the propriety of organizing them in such a manner that their teachings should not be confined to the comparatively few ladies who enter them for a full medical education; but also be made accessible to the generality of ladies, especially young ladies, who do not want a "professional" education in medicine, but who would study some branches, such as anatomy, physiology, pathology, and perhaps chemistry, natural philosophy, and botany, with much delight and profit, without asking for a diploma, but to carry the delightful satisfaction with them that they possess that which may save themselves and others around them untold disease and suffering, and protect them against all sorts of knavery and quackery, not to speak of the accomplishments and intellectual joys such studies are apt to give to ladies.

* * * * *

A VERY SENSIBLE DOCTOR.--Dr. J. Wilson, of Alabama, proposes, in the _Southern Medical Journal_, that female classes be formed in our medical colleges for instruction in anatomy--excluding the surgical and pathological--human physiology, medical chemistry, materia medica, and all female diseases. We hope those who have the direction of medical education will act on this hint. Why should woman be excluded from the study of medicine? She is the Heaven-appointed guardian of the sick and of helpless infancy; she should know how to preserve health and how to restore it.

* * * * *

THE PRACTICAL.--We have lately met with a rather astounding and extremely practical proposition, well suited to the genius of our nation. We, the mightiest people on the face of the globe, will not allow our scenery to remain scenery without some Barnum-like investment upon it. We do not intend that our natural curiosities shall continue natural. Jonathan must make his playthings useful, else he may as well fling them behind him. The Falls of Niagara have been too long exempt from the common lot; it is time they should be trained to propriety and productiveness. No doubt it is extremely fine to see them wandering at their own wild will, plunging madly down the precipice; but will any one pretend to say that in all this there is anything practical? The fact is, Niagara is of no use to us, and we can no longer tolerate her as a drone; she must be forced to work. Let her be made the motive power of numberless mills and manufactories. Thus would be secured a noble union of Nature and Art! How much more manly and suggestive than the common rhymes addressed to her grandeur and magnificence would be some such invocation as the following:--

Oh, thou that grindest buckwheat on thy way,
Free and unfettered on thy watery wing,
Creation's wonder! How much corn a day
Doth thy sublimity to flour bring?

We wonder what our nation would do with Mont Blanc if they had it? Place an ice-cream freezing establishment on its summit, perhaps; or tunnel it, _à la_ Thames, and settle a Yankee colony within. We shall next expect to hear that Mammoth Cave has been partitioned off into comfortable apartments, to let to small families. Rooms containing stalactites extra charge, as in such cases clothes-pins would be unnecessary.

Imperial Rome folds her mantle grandly around her, and sits in magnificent sadness at the base of her broken statues and fallen temples--Niobe weeping for her children. Young America strides along in broadcloth and beaver, and only sees that the statue might have been a mantle-piece, or the temple a machine-shop. He forgets whence the money-changers and sellers of doves were driven, because they made the Father's house a house of merchandise. He does not see that stars burn brighter than patent oil, or that earth was intended for another purpose than a plantation. He is more eager to manufacture the napkin than to improve the talent within it. His life is practical; his body is practical; his soul is practical. He would make death and eternity practical, if he only knew how to do it.

Oh, Niagara! are the clanking of machinery and the noise of the water-wheel to be thy dirge? Shall a saw-mill be located on Goat Island, or a stove-foundry near Table Rock? Shall thy rainbow span the summit of a comb manufactory, or thy spray fall silvery on a button establishment? Shall we bewail thy beauty and grandeur forever, as we cry, "Niagara has fallen--has fallen into a mill-dam!"

* * * * *

THE SPRING-TIME COMETH.

The Spring-time cometh with her buds and flowers;
But ah, those buds and flowers I ne'er may see!
The Spring-time cometh with her rosy hours,
But not for me.

The birds will sing, among the vales and highlands,
Sweet as they sang in the glad days of yore,
And lilies fair will circle yonder islands
For me no more.

For me no more the sparkle of the river,
Where droop the willows, fairest of the fair;
For me no more the joys a bounteous Giver
Sends everywhere.

But scatter o'er my grave the buds and flowers--
The buds and flowers that I may never see;
And, as ye see depart those rosy hours,
Think, think of me.

H. L. S.

* * * * *

HERE is a prose sketch on the same ever-fertile subject, the writer modestly styling her collection, "_Shells from the Shore of Thought:_"--

SPRING.--Would that thoughts on Spring would spring up in my mind radiant as the gentle flowers which the clarion voice of Spring awakens from their wintry slumber! Would that I could array these thoughts in eloquence as glorious as the vesture which she gives the lovely flowers!

She casts around them a mantle of vivid green, lifts their modest heads beneath a pearly veil of mist, and crowns them with a diadem of dew-drops, which the morning sunlight transmutes to amethysts and rubies, emeralds and diamonds.

But, sad to say, my thoughts are less like the flowers, and more like the seed of that tribe (thistle, &c.) which float through the air on a silken sail in quest of a place of repose. Some find them bright homes in lands far away, like the thoughts of the gifted, which become household words; but others, the silk of whose sail is not fine, float adrift on the waves, to be lost, like my thoughts, in the ocean of years.

Spring is the symbol of the resurrection; flowers, of the human race. In the autumn of life, man falls asleep like the flowers; but the icy reign of the winter of death is broken by the glorious springtide of immortality, where the circling seasons are no more, where there is neither death nor tears.

* * * * *

MEMORY.--Pleasure paints the Present, Memory paints the Past, Hope paints the Future, and spans its shadowy portals with an arch of light, radiant as the sunbow o'er the cataract. Memory tortures the wicked and consoles the righteous. When the sunlight of Hope wanes away from the landscape of life, then the moonlight of Memory its shadowy lustre sheds o'er the scene. Memory--a stereotyped edition of the Past. Memory--as the moonlight is to sunlight, so is Memory unto Hope.

* * * * *

MUSIC.--Sacred music--that which on earth wakes an echo in heaven. Music, the soother of the sorrowing. Music, the praises of One who loves us; notes which dwell in the heart, like the lingering perfume of withering violets, when the voice which created the beautiful music is silent forever on earth.

* * * * *

LOVE.--Life is a tangled web, but through its woof there runs the golden thread of Love.

* * * * *

PHILADELPHIA HIGH SCHOOL FOR GIRLS.--When is this institution to be opened? _The High School for Boys_ has been sustained in the most liberal manner many years, and now a new and costly edifice for the school is nearly prepared. Will not the men of Philadelphia add beauty as well as strength to the recent act of "Consolidation," by founding a HIGH SCHOOL FOR GIRLS?

* * * * *

A GREAT DUTY WHICH IS IMPOSED UPON MOTHERS.--Listen, good mothers: this is not a question of one of those idle studies, the only aim of which is to stock the memory; it concerns an important question, the most important which can be agitated on the earth; so important, that the manner in which you resolve it will decide, without appeal of your moral life and death, of the moral life and death of your children. It is not only a matter that regards yourselves, but also the flesh of your flesh, the blood of your blood; those poor little creatures, whom you have brought into this world, with passions, vices, love, hatred, pain, and death; for these are, in truth, what they have received from you with the life of the body; and these will, indeed, be miserable presents, if you do not also give them the life of the soul; that is to say, arms wherewith to fight, and a light whereby to direct themselves.

You are mothers according to the laws of our material nature, with all the love of a hen which watches over its little ones, and covers them with its wings. I come to ask you to be mothers according to the laws of our divine nature, with all the love of a soul called upon to form souls.

Assure yourselves well whether or not you owe to your children only the milk of your breasts, and the instruction of the intelligence; and if you interrogate the Gospel and nature, take heed to their answer--"Man does not live by bread alone, but by the word of truth."

Truth is that which renders man free; it is the voice which calls us to the love of God and of our neighbor, and to virtue.

Error, on the contrary, is that which renders us slaves to the passions of others and to our own; it is that which causes us to sacrifice our conscience to fortune, to honors, to glory, to vice.

Thus, virtue springs from truth; crime from error; whence we may infer that a good treatise on education can only be in the end the search after truth.

The destiny of your children depends then on the solicitude with which you engage in this search. You may open out to them the road to happiness, and precede them in it. A delightful task, which calls for all the powers of your soul, and which will place you in the presence of God, of nature, of your children, and of yourselves.