HABITS AND MEN. te BETWEEN YOU AND ME. Here, Sir, you'll find, by way of prologue, A choice imbroglio. Philosophy Gay in her gravity; and Poesy Casting her spangles on the theme of dress. Lik'st thou❜t not, no merry Christmas to thee!" OLD PLAY. Ir is remarked by Mr. T. C. Grattan, in his 'Jacqueline of Holland,' that the "suitableness of raiment and the becomingness of manners are links in the chain of social life, which harmonize with and beautify the whole. There is infinitely more wisdom," he adds, "in submitting to than in spurning those necessary concomitants of civilization, which, being artificial throughout, require the cement of elegance and refinement to polish, if it cannot lighten, the chain." I offer this pinch of philosophy to those who like to be tempted by something didactic. I would not, for the world, however, have them believe that I shall repeat the temptation, or follow the example, in my illustrations of 'Habits and Men.' And when I say Men," I would imply man in its general sense,- -a sense in which "woman" has the better and more perfect half; for, as the poet sings of Nature, B "Her 'prentice han' She tried on man, An' then she made the lasses, oh!" The latter, consequently, will come in for their share in these trivial, fond records. For, have not the poets loved especially to dress and undress them? And have not the nymphs been consenting? None have defied them, save "Fair Rhodope, as story tells, The bright, unearthly nymph who dwells The Lady of the Pyramid." Rhodope has been a snare to the versifiers; but I recognize in her a lady who loved home, and dressed as well when there as her more gadding sisters do only when abroad. If Rhodope be the only maid who has puzzled the poets, Butler is the only poet who has seriously libelled the maids, and their mothers. See what the rude fellow says of ladies in their company suits and faces :: "Yes, 'tis in vain to think to guess At women, by appearances; That paint and patch their imperfections Of intellectual complexions, And daub their tempers o'er with washes As artificial as their faces." It is certainly strange that women, in earlier days, when they dealt in neither washes nor washing, should have been gravely commended for that less commendable fashion. Thus, Thomas of Ely lays down a very nasty maxim when he describes the toilet of Queen St. Ethelreda:—“ Quæ enim lota erat corde, non necesse erat ut lavabatur corpore" (who was so thoroughly well-washed in heart that she never found it necessary to wash her person). Very well! I only wish this lady could have been married to the Irish Saint Angus Keledeus (Kele De, "God worshiper," thence Culdees). They would have had a nice household of it; for the gentleman in question had the barn and the mill-work of his convent, and, as he never cleaned himself, some of the grain which stuck in his hair and about his hairy body, used to grow as in a good soil, and then he pulled it out; gaining a portion of his bread in this nasty field. St. Angus, all over ears, would have been a novelly dressed bridegroom for Ethelreda, newly washed, in imagination! "Tut!" said St. Romnald, "filthy habits are the anchors by which holy hermits are kept fast in their cells; once let them dress well and smell nicely, and worldly people will invite them to their parties." Depend upon it, when Ethelreda left off her habits of cleanliness, she wickedly thought of seducing some St. Angus to come and be her resident confessor! A better example was shown by that saintly sovereign, Jayme II. of Mayorca, who made ministers of his tailors, as George IV. made tailors of his ministers, who set those useful dignitaries to work in superb offices, wherein no profane person dared tread. On the garments made, no profane person dared lay a hand; the number of suits was seven, for the seven great festivals; and when these were completed, all the inhabitants were compelled to celebrate the event by a voluntary illumination. Certainly, Ethelreda did not sit for the original of Cowley's 'Clad all in White,' wherein he says :— "Fairest thing that shines below, Why in this robe dost thou appear? Thou wilt seem much whiter so Than winter when 'tis clad with snow." But, altogether, Cowley cannot be said to dress his ladies well. He would banish all art, just as the nymphs in hoop petticoats banished all nature. Herrick is the man, to my thinking, who has hit the happy medium, in his 'Delight in Disorder': "A sweet disorder in the dress, An erring lace, which here and there A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous petticoat; A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility; Do more bewitch me, than when art Herrick was exquisitely taken by the "liquefaction,” as he calls it, of his Julia's robes, and his very heart was rumpled by their "glittering vibration." He dresses her in the airy fashion which Moore followed when called upon to deck his Nora Creina : "The airy robe I did behold, As airy as the leaves of gold, Which erring here and wandering there, But having got it, thereupon "Twould make a brave expansion, And pounced with stars, it show'd to me Göthe, that lover of many ladies, never decks one wholly, but now and then he makes a gift interpreting his taste, as when Lamon remarks, in the 'Laune des Verliebten':- "Die Rose seh' ich gern in einem schwarzen Haar." The French poets put all their swains in tight gloves and loose principles; and their nymphs are as anxious about their dress, as though there were soirées in Tempe, and a Longchamps in Arcadia. Thus Chénier's Naïs bids Daphnis not to crease her veil, and, with a shrewd idea of the cost of a new frock, how snappishly does the pretty thing reply to the invitation to recline on the shady bank :"Vois, cet humide gazon Va souiller ma tunique!" How pure, compared or not compared with this calculating nymph, is the Madeline of Endymion Keats. The English poet undresses his young maiden with a "niceness" that gives us as much right to look as Porphyro:— "Her vespers done, Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees; Loosens her fragrant boddice; by degrees It is clear that this lady, although belonging to a more artificial society than Naïs, thinks less of her dress, and more of her principles. Not but that ladies have a fine eye for the snares by which they may either catch or be caught. There is something in the following, from an old Spanish ballad (A aquel caballero, madre'), which proves what I say, and may be useful to gentlemen when contemplating the subject of costume :- To that cavalier, dear mother, |