(from the orange wreath being called chapeau de la Mariée), are seen in all brilliant assemblies; one made of oakleaves, with acorns of gold and green enamel, looked very well with jet-black hair. These chaplets, or, as they are called, chapeaux, are becoming universal at balls-they are placed a little on one side. A beautiful English blonde was much admired in one of these chapeaux, the ornaments were sprigs of coral.

The halls of all the first houses at Paris, are decorated with orange-trees and camelias; stoves are judiciously placed, to keep up a degree of warmth necessary to their preservation. At a soirée, recently given by one of the ministers, there was a raffle for a quantity of fancy-works, made by the female nobility of Paris; there were some which, it was said, the Queen of the French herself had condescended to make and to offer. Several young ladies of the first rank, presented each other as étrennes (or new-year's gifts), with aprons of the richest gros-de-Naples, which they had embroidered all round, with a large wreath of flowers in coloured silks, and a handsome bouquet of the same on each pocket. The handsomest and most fashionable cloaks are made of scarlet casimir, profusely trimmed with ermine.

It was said that boas were going out, but we seldom see an élégante without one. After all, there is little new or worthy of notice. Fashion, like a deposed sovereign, is still endeavouring to rouse her former partisans, but they seem little inclined to pay her the homage to which she has been so long accustomed from her favoured daughters of France. At the ball, at the play they are all Sans façon-Entre soi. And even at the opera (Oh! that this should ever be), if Fashion is there, she is concealed in a large mantle, or an undress capote. Still some balls are talked of. At some recent receptions the queen and the princesses were more richly attired than is their wont; and we hope at the coming assemblies to trace something worthy of notice; as full trimmings seem banished for ever, we hope to see the plainest dresses richly embroidered above the knee in silk, and in gold or silver for those of more costly materials. We may hint at dead and bright gold wrought on white crape. Silver on pink gauze; jewels, feathers, flowers, any thing rather than a plain dress, and a tortoise-shell comb in the hair.

We cannot bear to hear the animated little milliners and couturières of Paris who used so joyously to announce the death of one fashion, in order to introduce another, and who exclaimed with such playful espièglerie "La mode est morte, vive la mode!" now sighing over the unpurchased offspring of their ingenious tastes, exclaim, "La mode est morte!" and nothing more. It is not well in the daughters of France to banish a queen to whom they owe so much, we had almost said all; but if, by their neglect, they drive her from her chosen realm, welcome her to England my lovely countrywomen, first in form and face, why not be first in all that adds new lustre to the splendid gifts of nature? Why follow when you are born to lead? Why imitate, when you have heads to plan, and are blessed (beyond all the females of Europe) with means to execute? Receive the varying and fickle goddess; let judgment be her counsellor, and insist on her accepting two English handmaids, Modesty and Decorum: then fear not to follow her through all her mazes and wanderings; make offerings at her shrine, proportioned to your means. In her former realm she did much with little aid; but here, with nature for her assistant, what may she not effect. The day when her edict shall be published at St. James's is at hand, if not already arrived, we venture to predict that the first drawing-room of our gracious Queen will complete the revolution of Paris.

MORNING AT HOME Dress.

1.

Cap à la Marie Stuart of pink silk, handsomely edged with scollop-shell blonde. Robe à la vierge of pink batiste; sleeves very full at the shoulder, and tigu from the wrist to the elbow; apron of gos de Naples, the folding of the bodice is very graceful, crossing from right to left; two large scollops form the epaulettes, which, with the corsage, the front, and the pockets, are handsomely vandyked. Hair à la Sontag; embroidered slippers.

WALKING DRESSES.

2.

Pelisse of a rich brown gros de Naples; the corsage is made of regular plaits, or folds, crossing from right to left, confined by the belt. Chemisette, surmounted by a ruff:-the sleeves are confined from the wrist to the elbow by