the mind; the full-bottom formally combed all before denotes the lawyer and the politician; the smart tiewig with the black riband shows a man of fierceness of temper; and he that burdens himself with a superfluity of white hair which flows down the back, and mantles in waving curls over the shoulders, is generally observed to be less curious in the furniture of the inward recesses of the skull, and lays himself open to the application of that censure which Milton applies to the fair sex,— " of outward form Elaborate, of inward, less exact." A lady of genius will give a genteel air to her whole dress by a well-fancied suit of knots, as a judicious writer gives a spirit to a whole sentence by a single expression. As words grow old, and new ones enrich the language, so there is a constant succession of dress; the fringe succeeds the lace, the stays shorten or extend the waist, the riband undergoes divers variations, the headdress receives frequent rises and falls every year; and in short, the whole woman throughout, as curious observers of dress have remarked, is changed from top to toe, in the period of five years. A poet will now and then, to serve his purpose, coin a word, so will a lady of genius venture at an innovation in the fashion; but as Horace advises that all new-minted words should have a Greek derivation to give them an indisputable authority, so I would counsel all our improvers of fashion always to take the hint from France, which may as properly be called the "fountain of dress," as Greece was of literature. Dress may bear a parallel to poetry with respect to moving the passions. The greatest motive to love, as daily experience shows us, is dress. I have known a lady at sight fly to a red feather, and readily give her hand to a fringed pair of gloves. At another time I have seen the awkward appearance of her rural humble servant move her indignation; she is jealous every time her rival hath a new suit, and in a rage when her woman pins her mantua to disadvantage. Unhappy, unguarded woman! alas! what moving rhetoric has she often found in the seducing fullbottom! Who can tell the resistless eloquence of the embroidered coat, the gold snuffbox, and the amber-headed cane! I shall conclude these criticisms with some general remarks upon the milliner, the mantua maker, and the lady's woman, these being the three chief on which all the circumstances of dress depend. The milliner must be thoroughly versed in physiognomy; in the choice of ribands she must have a particular regard to the complexion, and must ever be mindful to cut the headdress to the dimensions of the face. When she meets with a countenance of large diameter, she must draw the dress forward to the face, and let the lace encroach a little upon the cheek, which casts an agreeable shade, and takes off from its masculine figure; the little oval face requires the diminutive commode, just on the tip of the crown of the head: she must have a regard to the several ages of women: the headdress must give the mother a more sedate mien than the virgin; and age must not be made ridiculous with the flaunting airs of youth. There is a beauty that is peculiar to the several stages of life, and as much propriety must be observed in the dress of the old as the young. The mantua maker must be an expert anatomist, and must, if judiciously chosen, have a name of French termination; she must know how to hide all the defects in the proportions of the body, and must be able to mold the shape by the stays, so as to preserve the intestines, that while she corrects the body she may not interfere with the pleasures of the palate. The lady's woman must have all the qualities of a critic in poetry; as her dress, like the critic's learning, is at second-hand, she must, like him, have a ready talent at censure, and her tongue must be deeply versed in detraction; she must be sure to asperse the characters of the ladies of most eminent virtue and beauty, to indulge her lady's spleen; and as it hath been remarked, that critics are the most fawning sycophants to their patrons, so must our female critic be a thorough proficient in flattery: she must add sprightliness to her lady's air, by encouraging her vanity; give gracefulness to her step, by cherishing her pride; and make her show a haughty contempt of her admirers, by enumerating her imaginary conquests. As a critic must stock his memory with the names of all the authors of note, she must be no less ready in the recital of all the beaux and pretty fellows in vogue; like the male critic, she asserts that the theory of any science is above the practice, and that it is not necessary to be able to set her own person off to advantage, in order to be a judge of the dress of others; and besides all these qualifications, she must be endued with the gift of secrecy, a talent very rarely to be met with in her profession. By what I have said, I believe my reader will be convinced that, notwithstanding the many pretenders, the perfection of dress cannot be attained without a genius; and shall venture boldly to affirm that in all arts and sciences whatever, epic poetry excepted (of which I formerly showed the knack or mechanism), a genius is absolutely necessary. Complete. Number 149 of the Guardian. AULUS GELLIUS (Second Century A. D.) ULUS GELLIUS, author of "Attic Nights" (Noctes Attica) lived in the second century of the Christian era between dates which are not accurately established. The date of his death is fixed approximately at 180 A. D., but even his birthplace is unknown and of his life there is little to be said with certainty, except that he lived at Rome and kept a "Commonplace Book," in which he wrote down his own thoughts and the thoughts of others as he gathered them from conversations. These entries formed the basis of his "Attic Nights, "-a work to which some object on the ground that "it is utterly devoid of sequence and arrangement." This is really a merit, however, for the book is essentially a collection of essays, one of the earliest suggestions of what was to become the essay writing of modern times. Its separate chapters are really distinct essays or "Pensées» on an extraordinary variety of subjects, interspersed with anecdotes, and frequently varied by attempts at philological or scientific definitions and analyses. Gellius had an active and inquiring mind which counted "nothing human foreign." The twenty books of his "Attic Nights" touch on almost every subject which exercised the cultivated intellect of his time. X^ A RULE FOR HUSBANDS ANTIPPE, the wife of Socrates the philosopher, is said to have been very morose and quarrelsome; so that she would, night and day, give unrestrained vent to her passions and female impertinences. Alcibiades, astonished at her intemperance towards her husband, asked Socrates what was the reason he did not turn so morose a woman out of doors. "Because," replied Socrates, "by enduring such a person at home, I am accustomed and exercised to bear with greater ease the petulance and rudeness of others abroad." Agreeably to this sentiment, Varro also, in his "Satira Menippea," which he wrote concerning the duty of a husband, observes, "that the errors of a wife are either to be removed or endured. He who extirpates them makes his wife better; he who endures them improves himself." These words of Varro, tollere et ferre, are of facetious import; but tollere seems to be used with the meaning of corrigere; for it is evident that Varro thought that the errors of a wife, if they really could not be corrected, ought to be endured, which a man may do without disgrace, for there is an important difference between errors and vices. Complete. «Attic Nights,» Book I., THE REPLY OF CHRYSIPPUS TO THOSE WHO DENIED A THEY PROVIDENCE HEY who think that the world was not produced on account of the Deity and of man, and deny that human affairs are governed by Providence, think that they urge a powerful argument when they assert that if there were a Providence there would be no evils. For nothing, they affirm, can be less consistent with a Providence than that in that world, on account of which the Deity is said to have created man, there should exist so great a number of calamities and evils. Chrysippus, in his fourth book concerning Providence, disputing against these, observes that nothing can be more absurd or foolish than their opinion, who think that there can be good, without the existence of evil. For as good is contrary to evil, and it is necessary that both should exist, opposite to each other, and as it were dependent upon mutual and opposite exertions, so there can be no opposing thing exist without its particular opposite. For how could there be a sense of justice, if there were no injustice? or what indeed is justice but the absence of injustice? In like manner what can we imagine of fortitude, but as opposed to pusillanimity? What of temperance, but from intemperance? What would prudence be, but for its opposite imprudence? Why also should unwise men not require this, that there should exist truth and not falsehood? In like manner exist good and evil, happiness and misery, pain and pleasure. Each, as Plato remarks, is confined to the other by contrary and opposing vortices, so that if you remove one you take away the other. This Chrysippus in the same book examines, investigates, and thinks it an important subject of inquiry, whether the imperfections of men are according to nature; that is, whether the same nature and Providence which |