DESCRIPTION OF THE ENGRAVING. EVENING DRESS. It is composed of satin; the ground is a dead black with bright semi-circular stripes of tawny yellow and crimson. The body is draped in full folds before and behind, is pointed in front, and trimmed with knots of ribbon, from the last of which two very long ends hang pendant below the knee. Short full sleeve, trimmed at the bottom with a double row of black blond lace, shallow in front, but very deep towards the the elbow, which it just reaches. A knot of gauze ribbon, with long flowing ends, is placed just above the elbow, upon the trimming. The head-dress is a white crape turban, trimmed next the face with a gold band, which mingle with the folds in front. A twisted neck lace and two esprits complete the trimming. Ear-rings and necklace of fancy jewellery. White kid gloves, and black satin slippers. The sitting figure shews the back of the dress. in FASHIONS FOR MARCH. SOME slight alterations have taken place since last month rich shades of brown or green-figured silk; they are made adorned with the plumage of birds of Paradise. Hats have not altered in shape; they are composed of either crape or velvet. The most novel are trimmed with two bouquets of marabouts; one is placed nearly upright towards the top of the crown, the other about half way to the brim, so that they wave in different directions; these feathers are short, and generally white. The colours most in request are rose, fawn. various shades of brown and green, lilac, straw-colour, dark blue, panecau and yellow. with small round brims, close at the sides, but rather wide | able. Jewish turbans have no trimming, the others over the forehead. Some are trimmed with two short ostrich feathers to correspond, inserted in a knot of gauze ribbon, which is placed near the top of the crown and drooping forward. Others are decorated with a knot of gauze ribbon placed a little on the right side of the crown, near the top; one end passes from the knot to the back part of the crown, and forms a knot just above the small curtain at the back of the bonnet. The only trimming adopted for the inside of the brim is a full quilling of narrow blond lace or silk net, which descends in the half mob cap style under the chin. Although it is yet so early in the season, some very beautiful China crape shawls have been introduced into carriage dress. They are square and very large; the grounds are black, with a superb border of flowers in various colours, very broad, and so highly raised, that at any distance one would not think the flowers were embroidered, as is the case, but laid on. Furs continue fashionable, and we have reason to think that swansdown will be more in favour this spring than it has been for several seasons past. We have just seen some pelisses composed of gros des Indes, and gros de Tours, which were trimmed down the fronts and round the border with a rouleau of it; the collar, which was of velvet, was also bordered to correspond. We have only one novelty to record in carriage headdresses; it is a black velvet hat, with a Polish crown. A very narrow piping of bright green satin marks the seams of the crown and edge. A round brim, cut rather deeper, and a little more slouched on the left side than the right. A band of green gauze ribbon passes next to the face, and terminates on the right side in a very novel and pretty ornament composed of ends of ribbon. A full tuft of green marabous is attached on the left side of the crown, by a knot of gauze ribbons to correspond, the ends of which dedescend upon the brim. Notwithstanding the lateness of the season some new silks of an excessively rich, but heavy appearance, have been introduced in evening dress. The grounds are generally brown, or beet-red. Some are flowered in detached bouquets, very large, and of glaring colours. Others have satin stripes of some strongly contrasted colour, printed in a running pattern of small flowers in the most glaring hues. We see, however, with pleasure, that lighter and more appropriate materials for full dress are also in request. Silk muslin, or as it is more commonly called mousseline de soie a material of the half-transparent kind, which bears some resemblance to palmyrienne, is very fashionable, particularly for young ladies Printed bodies gain ground, but they not yet in a majority. Dresses have altered a good deal in their make during the last month; a good many are now made quite in the fashion of a century ago. The body cut low and square at the top, with no other ornament than a row of narrow blond lace standing up round the bust. The waist extended to the very utmost of its natural limits, is encircled almost in the style of a hoop, by the skirt, which is disposed in triple plaits all round the hips; the body which is separate from it, descends over it, terminating in a very long and sharp point before. Short sleeves, divided by a band and bow of ribbon, so that they are excessively wide | and much puffed out at the upper part of the arm, but with less fulness towards the elbow, which they nearly reach. If the dress is of a rich silk it is frequently trimmed at the bottom of the sleeves with a double fall of black lace, the pattern of which is as old fashioned as that of the gown. We must observe, that this is never the case with dresses of white grounds, white blond lace being always employed for them. Although trimmings are not generally adopted in evening dress, we have seen a few gowns trimmed round the bottom of the skirt, with a broad bonillus of satin to correspond. A good many of those that have not pointed bodies, have the front of the skirt decorated with ribbon, arranged in flat bows of a very novel kind. The ribbon must be either of striped or figured gauze, and to correspond with the dress. DESCRIPTION OF THE MONTHLY PLATE. HALF-LENGTH FIGURES AND FASHIONABLE MILLINERY. No. I. A White crape dress, the body cut very low. and disposed upon the bosom in full folds, which are draped in the centre, and confined by a gold brooch. The sleeves are a double sabot, very full at the upper part, but confined across the arm so as to make the lower puff much smaller; they are finished with a trimming of the ruffle kind composed of blond lace. The skirt is embroidered above the hem in a wreath of ornaments in coloured silks resembling peacock's feathers. The head-dress is a white crape beret. trimmed on the inside of the brim with flat ornaments of violet gauze ribbon, and a row of blond lace; a band of ribbon encircles the crown, ties in a knot at the back, and a bird of Paradise, placed in the centre, droops to the right side. No. 2. A back view of the above costume. No. 3. A back view of No. 4. No. 4. A half-dress hat of pale lemon-coloured Terry velvet; it is trimmed on the inside of the brim with blond lace nich's in the style of a half mob cap; the crown is decorated with gauze ribbon and white marabou feathers; they are arranged in front in a double bouquet divided in the centre by a bow of gauze ribbon. The feathers form something of the shape of a fan. NOCTES TWANKAYANE. SCENE-The Council Chamber. PRESENT-Miss Blue- "And now when busy crowds retire To take their evening rest, We trim our Council-Chamber fire, Miss SCRIBBLE-CUM-DASH (taking letters from a blue bag.) Full to overflowing. Here are 17 letters all signed "Constant Readers," how are we to distinguish ? Miss. B. I'm sure I know not; 'tis at best a very foolish way for an individual to designate himself, like a "Well-wisher" to an anonymous letter, full of "hatred, malice, and uncharitableness." But let's see them— (takes the letters and reads.) I can only give individual answers to two of our "Constant Readers," one dated Birmingham, enclosing some verses entitled the "Parting," should appear, but that they are so tediously long, being seven verses, when the whole they mean to express might be written in two-the shorter a "Parting" is the better. Another "Constant Reader," enclosing a card, is informed, that we were not aware of the fact he alludes to, but that we never pledged ourselves to the exact point he chuses to suppose. What more? Miss S. A tale without a name, by E. H. Miss B. The conclusion is too abrupt and does not sufficiently develope the plot, but it has merit and shall appear. Will E. H. like to revise it a little.? or can we address a private letter to her? Turbans and dress hats are the favourite head-dresses for evening parties. The first are now made principally of crape or ganze. Some are of the Jewish kind; they are made with a band which passes under the chin, and are, Miss S. A long letter from TIMOTHY TESTY. generally speaking, unbecoming. Those that have the Miss B. Long, indeed! but well written. I fear we foundation composed of rouleaus, and the remaining part of must condense it before it will suit our pages. Our Corfull folds of gauze, are more becoming and more fashion-respondents should remember that in so small a work as ours, brevity is not only "the soul of wit," but has the best chance of acceptance. Any thing more? Miss S. Oh, yes! enough to fill your time up for an hour to come. The Maid, Wife, and Widow, by ANNA. Miss B. We have already rung the changes on that theme so often, both in verse and prose, that I fear our readers will tire. We will see, however, as 'tis not very long, what can be done for the little tale. I can look at no more to-night. Miss S. Yes! This one, I'm sure you will-'tis from your favourite HENRIETTA. Miss B. You judge rightly, "though last she is not least in our dear love.' But why will she not favour Us with lively pieces, or shorter ones. We cannot insert poems of more than four verses, as we wish to give variety to our pages. Mrs. BLOOMER. Will you never have done? got such a sweet little gem here. every success. (A pause.) I have been skimming several fashionable novels lately, but did not pay them sufficient attention to report upon. Enter Mrs. Modish and Miss Harmonica. Miss B. Well, fair wanderers, from whence come ye? Mrs. M. Why now I come from the Italian Opera, whither I went to see the Fashions and the new Ballet. Miss B. What report do you make? Mrs. M. In the first I was disappointed, for there was no Fashion to be seen, and with the latter disgusted. One is sick of these Demon Ballets and Operas-they are like a thrice-told told tale. The only difference here is that a place that shall be nameless is made to appear of a greater depth than is usual when represented on the stage, and the devils are more hideous than on former I've occasions. Miss S. One moment-these prints, entitled, "Fair Favourites," published by Mr. W. E. Madeley. Miss B. Ah! I've already seen them; they are very chastely executed, but as we intend hereafter to present our readers with Poetical Illustrations of popular Engravings, by one of the Members of our Council, all remarks here would be out of place. There, put away the letters. Now, Bloomer, what news have you to tell us in the literary way? Mrs. B. I hold in my hand a very sweet though unpretending volume of poems, entitled "The Garland," by the Author of "Field Flowers," &c. As the Author has not put his name, I suppose I must not hint it; though the volume would not lessen the fame he has already acquired. To confirm what I say, I will just read you one extract (reads). THE SABBATH BELLS. Those Sabbath bells, oh! how I love to list the sacred peal, As on the homeward wanderer's ear once more they faintly steal; Recalling from the mist of years hopes now for ever fled, And forms, to memory only known, from mansions of the dead, For I have wander'd far and wide since last yon village spire Receded from my youthful gaze, as parting from my sire "In whatsoever land," he said, "thou dwell'st, still hold, my Boy, The faith wherein thou wert baptiz'd, be that thy pride, thy joy! 'Mid the vicissitudes of life that time and chance may bring, Let thy RELIGION be thy shield, to her for safety cling: Her, the Religion of thy Sires, nor with her tenets part, Others may, haply, claim the eye, 'tis hers to win the heart; For not in outward pomp and pride her boasted beauties dwell, Not in the proud Cathedral more than in the Hermit's cell; For whether near some hallow'd shrine, or 'mid the desert bare, It matters not-to Heaven alike ascends her humble prayer." One fond and lingering gaze I took, while, as I mark'd his strain So touch'd my soul as when I heard that Sabbath peal again; Miss B. Very sweet indeed, and the sentiments do as much credit to the MAN as the POET. What are those little yellow-covered pamphlets, Bloomer? Mrs. B. Oh! the work is called The Magnet, and a very proper name too; for it ought, and I hope will, attract public patronage. It is published at one penny each Number, and contains, with a brief memoir, the standard works of the British Poets, beginning with our immortal MILTON. It is beautifully printed, and deserves I Mrs. M. On Friday, too, I visited the Adelphi, and was delighted with Yates in his Lent entertainment. dare say some of his contempotaries would be happy to borrow it. Mrs. B. There's a fine, Modish, for puns. Mrs. M. Oh! I forgot. Miss H. Ash Wednesday I spent an hour very delightfully at the Apollonican Rooms, and was charmed by the performance of Mr. C. Wesley, who played with wonderful facility and execution an extempore Fugue, and also one from Saul on the magnificent instrument of Messrs. Flight. Miss B. Well, indeed, Ladies, you do not seem to have been idle since we met last. Miss H. And I wound up the week by witnessing young Kean's second appearance in Sir Edward Mortimer. Mrs. B. And what do you think of Kean, Jun. pray? Miss H. Certainly his visit to Brother Jonathan has materially improved him, and, but that we naturally associate him with the performances of his Father, he might stand higher without the comparison. He has a very striking resemblance both in person and manner, and his mode of treading the stage, to the elder Kean; but in my opinion his voice is by no means adapted to the loftier scenes of the Drama. In thar part where he imposes the oath of secresy on Wilford, and discovers himself as a murderer, I consider him equal to his Father, but in the latter part, where he accuses his innocent Secretary of robbery, the struggle of nature to burst through the disguise of the villain was nothing like the acting of Kean, Sen. The conclusion of that interesting scene on the discovery of the bloody knife was powerful, and seemed to electrify the House. Miss Taylor, as Lady Helen, and Miss Romer as Barbara, acquitted themselves much to the satisfaction of the audience; and on the fall of the curtain the "Gods" commenced a call for Charles Kean, which was responded to by the other parts of the House. He appeared as soon (I suppose) as he could be raised from the dead, and received a rapturous tribute of applause from a very respectable audience. The House seemed determined to be in good humour, or they never would have applauded the feeble efforts of H. Phillips as Tom Tug in the Waterman, particularly those who had seen Braham in the same character. Mr. Peake's excellent new drama of the Smuggler Boy commenced about half-past eleven, and ended at one. (Why do not our Bishops look to such Sunday-morning hours?) Mr. Bennet as Martin, and Miss Taylor as Genevieve, bad fine opportunities of displaying their talents. Little Keeley as Le Pop (as usual) kept the House in continual good humour; and Miss Poole, as Devil's Skin, evinced abilities which (when matured by a few more years' expe rience) will doubtless ensure her the patronage of a dis- | pleasing and congenial to his taste. To a brilliant cerning public. Miss B. I deprecate as much as yourself the late hours to which our Theatres are kept open. Surely a Play and Melo-drama is quite enough to furnish entertainment for an evening without the custom of thrusting in a third piece, to prolong it far into the night. John Bull likes to have plenty for his money, certainly, but in the article of Dramatic amusement, managers now-adays give too good measure, and an evening spent at the Theatre becomes a toil rather than a pleasure. Mrs. B. Something like our Council Meetings, Lady President. Really, if we go on at this rate, we shall sit till sunrise soon! Look at the dial on the chimney piece. Miss B. "We take no note of time but by its loss." I'm ashamed to look at the hour. Pray, ladies, let us break up. "Stand not upon the order of your going, but say, Good night at once. ALL. Good night-good night. SKETCHES OF SOCIETY. No. XV. THE FIRST SESSION. BY MRS. BAILEY. Amid the waving of handkerchiefs and shoutings of the throng, Sir Henry Comyn, the popular Candidate, was escorted through the town of for which he had just been returned Member. All was joy and hilarity; yet a shade of sadness sat on the brow of his fair young wife, as she gazed upon the triumphant procession from a window of the inu to which his constituents conducted her husband. Amid the pride that woman must feel in seeing him she most loves so idolized, Lady Julia felt a vague wish that he had not been elected. The Session was at hand, and she knew she must lose his society. Yes, he would quit the peaceful scenes where the first two years of their married life had been so happily past, and leave her to all the loneliness of regret for Lady Julia was about to become a mother, and could not follow her Henry to the noise and bustle of the metropolis whither his Parliamentary duties would now call him. These reflections gave a mournful tinge to the beautiful countenance of his wife, as she removed the ribbon coronet in imitation of laurel, from Sir Henry's brow, and greeted his return with a kiss of welcome. * Another month saw the young Member take his seat in the House, and for the first time since their marriage, separated him from the arms of Julia. She had just given birth to a son, who had scarcely received a father's embrace, ere he hurried away to the metropolis to commence his Parliamentary career. Seated in his elegantly furnished apartments at the West end of the Town, after the fatigues of the debate were over, Sir Henry, in his temporary bachelorship, would at first often contemplate the image of Lady Julia and his peaceful home with a half-regretful sigh. These tender reveries, so honourable to the heart of the husband and the father, were soon put to flight by the feelings of ambition that arose in the head of the senator and the man. Sir Henry was on the popular side, and self vanity whispered that he owned talents, only wanting opportunity to win for their possessor, fame, and honour. Amongst the many young men of fashion who sought his society, Lord Vivian Roslyn was the most wit the young nobleman joined manners the most fascinating; their political creed was the same, and Vivian Roslyn soon became the chosen friend and constant companion of Sir Henry. Her husband's letters to Lady Julia glowed with encomiums of the fashionable Peer, and the fond wife half chid the jealous feeling that arose in her thoughts to find there existed a being save herself who could occupy in Sir Henry's heart that void, which not even the smiles of her infant son could supply to her own. Three months had now passed, and Sir Henry had never for a single day been able to detach himself from the duties of the Senate to revisit the repining Julia. True, he wrote frequently, but his letters by imperceptible degrees grew short and less familiar-all those little details of how he had passed his time, which formed the chief part of his earlier epistles, were now omitted; a coldness was creeping over his manner like shadows upon the sun-dial, and a mistrust of she knew not what, over Julia's heart. In Her health was now re-established, and the anxious wife pressed to be allowed to join him. An assent was granted, and Sir Henry informed her that he had secured a fashionable mansion in Belgrave square. With eager and trembling haste the young mother journeyed with her infant hope towards the metropolis. what vivid colouring did her fond anxiety picture the meeting, after so long a separation! In that blissful idea the little coldnesses that had wounded her were forgotten: before the ardour of true affection, all melted away, like snow before the sunbeam. How the young father would welcome his scarce-seen boy! did fancy dwell upon the eager gladness with which As the carriage whirled rapidly through the crowded she found it impossible to controul, and distinctly might streets, Lady Julia leaned back to conceal the emotions she have counted the throbbings of her anxious heart. The wished for moment had arrived-the carriage entered the square, and drew up before the door of a large and handsome house-the step was let down, and Lady Julia was received-not into the arms of obsequious and powdered lacquey, who informed her an impatient husband, but by the well-bred bow of an that his master was attending a call of the House, from whence he did not expect he would return till past midnight. A chill fell on the heart of the disappointed Wife, and a flood of the bitterest tears she had ever shed bathed the cheek of the sleeping cherub cradled in her arms, relieving her overcharged bosom from suffocation. My Love! how can you be so absurd as to expect me to go everywhere with you?" said Sir Henry in a half peevish tone. "You know I must attend my duty at the House, and that will detain me late; and afterwards I must just look in at the Club and sup with a new Member, who is half inclined to come over to onr side. Take Vivian with you to the Opera ; he's not a man of business, and will be too happy to attend you." "Ah, Harry," replied the mortified wife, "would we were again at Roselands, where you had nothing else to do but ride, walk, and read with me." "Well, my Love, I wish so too," answered Sir Henry, but we must make some sacrifice in these times for the good of one's country. Surely, if I do not murmur, my Julia need not. When a inan gets into Parliament, you know" "HE NEGLECTS HIS WIFE," thought Lady Julia, | for she was ever too gentle to give unkindness utterance. Thus days and weeks were passed, and Roslyn was the constant attendant on his friend's Wife to all those places of fashionable resort her situation in society, and the natural love of seeing and being seen, so inherent in the female breast, led Lady Julia to frequent. Nothing is more dangerous to a woman's virtue than NEGLECT. A Wife can bear much from the man she loves-jealousy, peevishness-unkindness in all its sad variety of shapes; but NEGLECT is the blighting canker-worm that creeps to the very core of woman's tenderness, withering and destroying all within its reach. The woman of weak and little mind will sink beneath NEGLECT, crushed like the blade of grass we tread under our heedless footsteps; but if she be of a lofty and daring spirit, she will do worse-se--seek REVENGE! aye, REVENGE, though it is bought at the price of her own soul! "Oh! with her to Roselands the following week. At first And the fond Wife's anticipations of happiness were realized, for they were founded on REASON. They returned to Roselands-Lady Julia with a lightened heart, her husband with a lightened purse. the Member found a country life somewhat monotonous after the bustle and excitement of a London Session, but in the cares his half-ruined estate required to restore it to its original order, the society of his Julia, and the hourly expanding beauties of his infant heir, Sir Henry had enough to keep his mind from stagnating, or sinking into that indolence too often, the follower of active exertion. DOMESTIC DUTIES grew daily more pleasing; and when, at the dissolution of Parliament early the following year, his constituents offered to return Sir Henry again, the offer was gratefully yet firmly declined; for the Husband and Father hazard the loss of his domestic peace by venturing had seen too many of its temptations and evils to on another Session ! BRIEF MEMOIR OF PRINCE PUCKLER Things were in this undomestic state, when one morning, as Sir Henry sat listlessly lounging over the breakfast table (his lady not having risen), pondering, it might be, the NATIONAL or some other debt which nearer concerned his interests, a servant announced "Farmer Jones, from Roselands, was below." "Admit him instantly," was the reply: "he is one of my constituents, and was my warmest supporter at the election." "I hope, however, the old man is not Prince Puckler Muskau's Work upon England has come to ask for a place or pension," thought Sir Henry naturally enough excited considerable interest about him, as he entered. "Well, Jones, and how goes on all and so many contradictory reports have been raised, that at Roselands?" asked the Member. "Why, main at length it became a question whether there actually was badly indeed, Sir Harry, main badly; and as I had such a personage in existence. We have heard at least to come up to Lunnun on business like, I thought I'd a dozen people cited at different times as the authors of make bold to call and tell you so. Look ye, Sir these famous letters, and we could hardly enter a drawing Harry, I served your father and grandfather afore room in which the subject was not canvassed with eagerhim, and I should not wish to see you ruined. I'llness, particularly by the female part of the company. We tell you a bit of plain truth-this Parliamentary busi- about his Highness. In consequence, we wrote to Gerconfess that our own curiosity was not a little excited ness will ruin you." How so, friend Jones? I hope many to a friend who is perfectly well acquainted with I have discharged my duty" Duty," replied the the genealogy of all the princely families of that country, old farmer, shaking his head, "I take it DUTY, like and it is with no small degree of pleasure we present our CHARITY, ought to begin et HOME, and all's going to readers with the information he has just favoured us with: rack and ruin there. The dogs are as lean, and the horses as rough, as though they had not had a meal's meat or a rub down this twelvemonth. And then there's my lady's flower-garden, as she used so be so fond on, why it's all overgrown with chickweed; and nothing's ever given away at the Hall now, if a poor body goes to the door to ask a mouthful of bread. He's told, "Oh! master's gone to Lunnun a Parliamenting, and we are all on board wages here. And then all the beautiful rooms are shut up, and the place looks more like a nunnery than the mansion of an English Baronet. I'll tell ye what, Sir Harry--don't be angry with me for giving an old man's advice-go down to Roselands, live on your estate, give bread to your starving tenantry by employing them, and dang me if you won't be more of a real patriot, and do more good to your countrymen than all the long speeches we read in the paper o' your making here in the House of Commons "" Whether the eloquence of honest Jones, or the "still small voice" that spake within the breast of Sir Henry caused a relaxation in his attendance on those fancied "duties," hitherto so arduously pursued, was never known, but the next day the young Baronet told his delighted Julia that he intended returning "I laughed heartily at the various reports which you tell me are in existence respecting Prince Puckler Muskau. He is not, I assure you, an ideal personage, but a being of true flesh and blood, as you will see by the details I am going to give you. I can answer for their correctness. "The Prince is at present in his forty-fifth year. He is descended from one of the first families in Germany. The Comtes of Puckler derive their origin from the famous Rudger of Pecklam, the Hero of the poem of Nibelungen, the Iliad of the Germans. A branch of that house was very near the imperial throne. The one from which the Prince is descended has during several centuries been splendidly established in Silesia and in Saxony. His grandmother was of a noble French family; she was born Comtesse of Latour du Pin. full of expression. There is something of originality in "The Prince is tall and well made; his countenance is his manners as well as his disposition. I have heard persons who were acquainted with Lord Byron observe, that the Prince's character resembled the Noble poet's in many points. Like him he loved solitude even in the midst of society; he has passed a great part of his life in travelling through Europe almost always alone, avoiding society, or frequenting it only by fits and starts; sometimes leading a dissipated life in the midst of the great world, or even at Court, surrounded with every luxury of life, and figuring as an Exquisite of the very first order; at others, travelling in a stage coach, or even on foot, with a knapsack at his back, and mixing with the lower class as |