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or velvet, prevail in the promenades. In carriages are sometimes seen bonnets of white satin, lined with colored velvet, and trimmed with blond. The black velvet bonnets have, almost all, among the most fashionable wearers, a deep blond at the edge, which might serve as a demi-veil.

Merino dresses are much worn in home deshabille; some of these are of exqui sitely fine texture. Black satin dresses, flounced and trimmed with white blond, are among the most admired novelties of the day for grande parure. Dresses of embroidered tulle over white satin with short sleeves, and of light-colored gros de Naples with long white sleeves à la Mameluke, are much in request.

Many crape ball-dresses have been seen trimmed with flowers, which were made of velvet; they are composed chiefly of roses and their buds, with a slight portion of green foliage. White gauze, richly striped with satin, is a favorite article for evening-dresses when worn by young ladies: the trimming at the border is very simple, consisting of a broad hem surmounted by rouleaux; such dresses are sometimes seen at balls, with colored bodice.

The Greek fashion of arranging the hair seems most in favor; yet we are surprised to see our hair-dressers raising the long tresses to such an elevation on the head; this is not classical; the braids which form the Apollo-knot on the ancient Greek head-dress, which they affect to copy (for nothing can be more unlike the modern Greek) were twined round quite at the back of the head à la Sappho; under which, to the nape of the neck, were the narrow antique purple fillets. These are now often supplied by strings of pearls, with a bandeau in front.

Caps of black blond, adorned with red roses and narrow pink satin rouleaux, are now in vogue. Those of white blond are exceedingly elegant and becoming, and are beautifully trimmed with bows of painted gauze riband, or French white, so charmingly figured with another shade as to impart to them a silvery kind of tinge, which has a very pleasing effect. Black velvet berets have been seen at the Operahouse, ornamented with pearls. The turbans are wide, but not much elevated; they are chiefly of white or light-colored crape, with the fullness divided by white satin riband, figured. The hair is parted

on the forehead, and the curls on each side are in full clusters.

The favorite colors for dresses, pelisses, and clokes, are Egyptian-sand, hollygreen, bright-crimson, Etruscan-brown, and violet; for turbans, bonnets, and ribands, lemon-color, pink, etherial-blue, ponceau, emerald-green, and amber.

MODES PARISIENNES*.

THE clokes which are most fashionable among the French ladies are chequered, red and black. The pelisses are of velvet, faced and trimmed with satin. On quitting a ball-room or an evening-party, many ladies throw over their shoulders clokes entirely lined with fur.

A bonnet of Russian-green satin has been seen, embroidered with white silk. Several hats of violet-colour have appeared, lined with white. A hat of satin, the colour of the chamois, was lined and trimmed with satin of a bright ponceau, and was ornamented with two white esprits, black at the base, and curled. Weeping-willow feathers of blue and black, or pink and black, are favorite ornaments on black velvet hats, which are lined with Navarin-blue, or on black velvet lined with bright rose-colour. The bonnets reckoned most elegant are of watered Gros de Naples, the color of the bird-ofparadise. On the edge of the brim, and round the band, is worked a wreath of the foliage of the almond-tree, or of ivy, in silk.

A dress much admired at public concerts, is of Navarin-blue crape, made à la Circassienne; the sleeves very short, and much puffed out. The border of the skirt is finished by a very broad hem, in bias; and three rouleaux of blue satin. A stiffened pointed zone of blue, finishes the dress. Some whimsical ladies have revived the fashion of the bouffont cuff at the termination of a long sleeve; two bands are tightened to draw in the fulness of the sleeve à la Marie; the bouillon formed between, is designated by the name of a ruffle. Flounces of Chantilly lace, very broad, and set on in festoons, are favorite trimmings on the borders of gowns; and a net-work of watered riband, of some striking hue, is frequently seen on the skirts of ball-dresses.

* See the annexed elegant display of the new Pa. risian Fashions.

Births, Marriages, and Deaths.

BIRTHS.

SONS to the wives of the rev. G. Fielding, the rev. J. L. Wallace, lieutenantcolonel Becher, Mr. J. Mac-Kechnie, Mr. C. J. Magnay, S. J. Capper of Layton, Mr. W. James of Barking, and Mr. T. S. Cocks.

Daughters to the wives of the hon. Mr. Ramsay, the rev. Dr. G. Barnes, and the rev. W. Pym, lieutenant-colonel Forest, Mr. A. Hay, M. P., Mr. J. Duncombe, Mr. E. Tegart of Pall-Mall, and Mr. Da-Costa of Stoke-Newington.

MARRIAGES.

The eldest son of lord Stafford to a niece of the duke of Norfolk.

The rev. R. Anderson, to the third daughter of lord Teignmouth.

Mr. T. J. Ireland, to Elizabeth, daughter of Sir William Earle Welby. Lieutenant-colonel Fremantle, to Miss Agnes Lyon.

Captain T. O' Brien, to Miss Catharine Collins of Ipswich.

The rev. Mr. Marshall, of Holloway, to Miss Harriet Witherby.

Mr. H. B. Tamplin, to Miss Anderson of Willesden.

Mr. C. S. Dickens, to lady Elizabeth Compton.

Lieutenant Wainwright, to Miss Elizabeth Powell.

Mr. W. H. Pierrepont, to Miss Anna bella Sandford of Shropshire.

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In his 83d. year, the rev. Matthew Wilks, of the Tabernacle.

Mr. H. Drummond, of the ColonialOffice.

Sir William Cunningham.

Mr. T. Northover, of the Bank.
In his 81st year, Mr. John Dax, o
Lincoln's-Inn.

Mr. H. Golding, of Peckham-Rye.
In consequence of a fall from a chaise,
Mr. Mortimer, surgeon, of Black-Water.
At Botley in Surrey, Mr. Richard Grif-
fith.

At Dalston, Mr. B. Flower, formerly a
Cambridge journalist.

Mr. T. Burdon, of the Edgeware-road.
Mrs. Sharpe, wife of the magistrate.
At Evesham, Mrs. Elizabeth Horne.
Near Cowbridge, Mr. E. Thomas, at
the age of 101 years.

At Edinburgh, Mr. J. Ferriar.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

THE dignity of the press requires something more finished than the pieces, which are usually inserted in a lady's Album;-we therefore advise Eugenius to send his productions to the latter vehicle of display, rather than obtrude them upon our more important miscellany.

"Frowns and Smiles" are not elegantly or properly contrasted in Delia's little poem: her countenance, without doubt, can better represent them than her pen.

The causes of the decline of dramatic ability, and also of the diminished influence of theatrical representations, lie deeper than our correspondent E. H. supposes.

The verses of Anacreon, imitated by Mr. E. D., have so frequently appeared in an English dress, that we are induced to reject that part of his late communication; but his original lines are accepted.

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THE

LADY'S MAGAZINE;

OR,

MIRROR OF THE BELLES-LETTRES, FINE ARTS, MUSIC, DRAMA, FASHIONS, &c.

A New Series.

MARCH 31, 1829.

THE GRAND QUESTION.

WE are not in the habit of calling the attention of our readers to questions purely political, because our fair readers are not expected to devote much of their time to such considerations. Men in general do not wish that their wives or daughters should become politicians. Such a subject is apt to excite irritation, which the heads of families, anxious to preserve domestic tranquillity, would certainly desire to avoid.

Mr. Brougham, who is undoubtedly a man of some discernment, maintains that the question which now inflames our island from the isle of Wight to the Orkneys, has no concern with any thing but politics; yet, with all due submission to this strenuous promoter of that march of intellect of which our radical reformers so loudly boast, we are disposed to contend that it is at the same time a religious question, and must therefore deeply interest those who, if it had solely a political tendency, would not seriously trouble themselves about it. It ostensibly relates to the political aggrandisement of the Roman-catholics; but, as those sectaries mingle religion with every concern of life, and suffer their public conduct to be strikingly influenced by it, the question, in their case, evidently assumes a religious complexion. Mr. Brougham must be aware of that point; but, as he is also aware of the obnoxious nature of the Ro

VOL. X.

mish religious principles, he is willing, like an artful disputant, to cover any deformity of that kind with the broad mantle of politics.

The question is, Can those who profess such a religion as that of the Romish church, be safely admitted to high power in a state which, for wise reasons, rejected the corruptions of that church? We think not;-and we will briefly state the grounds of our opinion. When the apostolic hierarchy had been succeeded by episcopacy, the new heads of the church, for a long course of years, acted more as the humble followers of the mild and gracious founder of Christianity, than as the lordly or arrogant directors of a great and exalted establishment: but a love of power gradually arose in the minds of their successors, when they witnessed the wide diffusion of clerical influence. A taste for luxury accompanied this thirst of power, and the prelates vied in splendor with the princes and nobles of the land. To keep up that ignorance and superstition which favored their views, they brought forward pretended traditions, and invented various ceremonies, corrupting the simplicity of the early worship. Successive popes and councils sanctioned this priestcraft, and the dominion thus acquired over the people cherished that abominable arrogance which led to the most cruel intolerance. To oppose the church, or only to differ from it, was deemed a more flagitious offence than high treason; and even

for several centuries before the zeal of the Lutherans and Calvinists roused the churchmen into rage, the most cruel enormities were practised on the persons of the most worthy and upright members of society. The continuance of this persecuting spirit rendered the Romanists so odious in this country, that the government thought it necessary to coerce them by penal laws. Some of these were repealed, when the sectaries became less turbulent and refractory; but other statutes still exist, which they deem invasive of their natural and inalienable rights.

In discussing this question, it is proper to observe, that, when societies were first formed, the people consented to a surrender of a part of the natural liberty of mankind to secure good order, tranquillity, and comfort;-they gave up particular rights and lawless licentiousness for general safety. Ever since those early times, communities have considered themselves justified in framing laws at their own discretion to suit the exigencies of the state; and an illustrious example of that kind was given by the projectors of the British Revolution in 1688, who not only punished a catholic bigot with expulsion from the throne which he disgraced, but declared that our government should thenceforward stand on the united basis of freedom and Protestantism. This being the general will of the nation, the minor portion, however discontented, was constrained to submit to it; and, indeed, had no right to complain, unless the laws should be unjust or oppressive. But, say the catholics, "some of these laws are palpably iniquitous, because they subject us to persecution for our opinions." The protestants answer, "You are by no means persecuted; you have a full toleration, and are only excluded from that power of which, from your known principles and characters, you would be sure to make an improper use. How can we, whom you revile as impious heretics, fit only for eternal condemnation, trust you with a participation of high power under a government which you detest? It is true, that we with-hold from you the revenues of our church and the emoluments of political and municipal offices; but that is your own fault, and you can only blame yourselves for not complying with those conditions which the nation had a right to impose. That intolerance which is a dogma of your creed, and which, though it now (from the increasing humanity of the present time) wears a less sanguinary aspect, is still

most illiberal and arrogant, precludes all friendly association with you, and renders the grant of power to such men hazardous and unsafe."

THE PROTESTANT, a Tale of the Reign of Queen Mary. 3 vols.

MRS. Bray has been blamed for endeavouring to inflame religious dissensions by exposing the horrible cruelties of a Romish government in this country; but, although such a demonstration of her orthodox zeal was unnecessary, it certainly is not unseasonable.

The leading features of the tale may thus be given. A worthy divine, who is suspected of being a protestant, is appre hended under a writ of the ecclesiastical court. He is thrown into prison, examined upon his opinions, and as he not only persists in his doctrines, but takes every opportunity of anathematising his judges, he is condemned, in the true spirit of the times, to the stake. His wife, Alice, is sentenced to the same fate. They are accompanied by their son and daughter, Edward and Rose Wilford; but, just as the pile is about to be fired, the high sheriff rides up, announces the queen's death, and in the name of her successor liberates all the prisoners. The sheriff, who is an obstinate catholic, has a daughter, Arabella, beloved by Edward Wilford. The usual machinery of a family friar and a powerful rival, interposes to prevent their union; but, when the protestants get into power, and Edward is no longer considered a heretic, the marriage is permitted to take place. These incidents are worked out into three volumes, by the well-known talents of the conscientious writer; but we are sorry to observe, that many parts of the narrative are dull, heavy, and tedious.

The prison-scene at Canterbury is not the worst specimen of the work. Being conducted to the castle, the elder Wilford "was met by the keeper, a man who was the terror, the rod, and the theme of malediction to every unfortunate wretch placed within his dominion of cruelty and death. This man was a tall, raw-boned fellow, of a stern and ruthless countenance. He had been appointed to his situation in consequence of the fierce bigotry of his character, and he joyed to see a heretic come within his power. His person altogether presented whatever the imagination of the timid sufferer could picture to itself as most terrible; and he rivaled even

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William Alexander himself, the famous keeper of Newgate in Mary's days, and seemed to vie with him which should prove most unrelenting-the savage master of the metropolitan prison, or that of Canterbury Castle.

"The keeper looked at Wilford for a moment, in order to become perfectly well acquainted with his features; and seeing, by the habit that the good pastor wore, he was a churchman, the fellow gave a sneer, but expressed no surprise, and appeared in a moment to comprehend the whole affair. He did not deign to ask so much as a single question respecting his prisoner, but simply demanded the warrant of committal. Wilford and his wife were then conducted by the billmen into the inner court, or open space of the castle, surrounded by high walls and massive towers. Here the prisoners were suffered to breathe the air during certain hours of the day, and it was now the time for this indulgence. Upon entering the inner court, a strange and mixed scene presented itself to Wilford. There was an assembly of persons apparently of all orders and grades in society. Some were the victims of guilt, others of tyranny. Here might be seen the squalid, ragged, and the miserable; the cut-purse, the midnight burglar, the cheat, the maker of false money, the beggar, and the common thief. Many appeared wholly indifferent to their condition; others seemed to brave it out, and to rejoice in the very acts or talents that had consigned them to a prison. A few of the poor debtors were busily employed in such little occupations as they could here follow, in the hope to gain a trifle to better their condition, whilst some of the idle and vicious part of their fellowprisoners, from mere wantonness, endeavoured, by sundry tricks and annoyances, to interrupt the progress of their work. In one part of the court-yard, four or five men were amusing themselves in the game of jumping or leaping at the ring, accompanying their amusement with loud shouts and exclamations, according to the success or failure of the jumper. Another group of savage-looking fellows had collected themselves, and were drawing straws for the cost of a flaggon of beer. In one corner sat two persons of an extraordinary appearance, who amused themselves with playing a game at cards, that seemed deeply to interest them both. The younger player in his dress exhibited a mixture of threadbare finery and dirty indigence. The gold lace that faced his

doublet was tarnished, and the velvet of his cloak faded and worn; many a point was broken, and his hose showed the skin of the wearer through more than one hole. But the beard, cut and knotted into two formal peaks, with a small velvet cap, from which depended a broken plume, set smartly on one side of his head, proclaimed an affectation of the fashion of Whitehall. This sorry and broken-down beau of his day, was engaged in play with an old fellow, whose beard, white, long, and flowing, would have seemed venerable, but for the shrewd and knavish cast of the features to which it belonged. The old man was dressed in a large black gown, his middle girt about with a broad leather belt, from which depended a rosary and a cross. Near these card-players stood a little, fat, stout fellow, whose only employment seemed to be the delight he took in disturbing the game, by singing, as loud as he could bawl, a ditty that appeared to be particularly disagreeable to the old man's ears, as from time to time he begged the singer to desist.

"One man heavily ironed, whose fetters clanked in time to the motion of his feet, was seen pacing up and down the courtyard alone, his beard and hair hanging wild and matted, his clothes retaining in no part their original colour, and so tattered, as to leave bare his sinewy arms and legs, whilst, his countenance exhibiting an expression of the most reckless brutality, he gazed about him with the utmost indifference, as if wholly insensible to his condition. This man was charged with the crime of murder.

"Apart from all the rest, shunned by all, and even by the murderer, appeared a group of persons both male and female, whose sober appearance, and quiet deportment, together with an air of composure and resignation strongly depicted in the countenance of each, at once proclaimed that their only crime was the result of conscience. These were accused of heresy."

Rose appears to us to be the best-drawn character in the tale. Fortitude and magnanimity elevate her above the ordinary weakness of human nature; and, if we might be allowed to compare a Christian with the votary of a superseded religion, we should say that the portrait reminds us of the interesting Jewish maiden in the romance of Ivanhoe.

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