This of course can shock no one in these days of eel-skin dresses, which are far more open to criticism than the well-folded Greek costume. Still, I do not see why the features of the form need be considered more shocking than the features of the face, and a reasonable mood on this subject is justly to be encouraged.

The peculiarity of the Greek dress was its full expression of the form beneath, and the ease with which it adapted itself to every attitude. The main feature of the dress was the himation (mantle or veil), which was, in fact, held to constitute the entire dress, while the under garment or garments only supplemented it, and were never worn without it, at least out of doors. In early Greece, to have walked without doors in the tunic without the himation would have been held a breach of propriety; to walk out in a thin himation, with nothing beneath it at all, was full dress. Therefore, the ancient Greek never exhibited that meagre aspect which characterised the 'Empire' or ' Imitation Greek;' and, therefore, the modern habit of copying portions of the Greek costume without due knowledge of the value and functions of each garment, and without understanding the costume as a whole, must always seem to those who have studied Attic manners a solecism of a most uncomfortable kind.

It is clear that so simple and filmy a garb as the Greek would have concealed little, and only enhanced beauties which were already present, but certainly never supplied to any marked degree structural defect. How then did the Greeks, who so loved beauty, accustom themselves to such a garb? For there must have been ugly Greeks - Greeks too fat, Greeks too thin, Greeks old and young; yet the fashions did not change - the same dress served for all, and served them well.

Their minds were strong in philosophy and content. They were used to all sorts of figures; they did not attach excessive importance to the accidents of time and nature, since all ages of man had their merits and demerits, and all were true. They thought it was good to be beautiful; they thought it a sad misfortune - indeed, some sign of shame - to be ugly or ill-shapen; but they did not insist upon certain proportions in frame being always carried out, and as a rule they did not try to remedy nature's omissions. A thin person looked thin, face and figure corresponding, as a fat person looked fat, but not objectionably in either case, as the eye was carried along so many folds in the mantle that it had no need to dwell long enough to be annoyed upon the defects beneath. That constituted the merit and grandeur of the dress; it would really palliate harsh lines, but supply no false aids; and to the Greeks an imperfect figure was what a plain face is to us, no unusual sight, nor of vital consequence, but a fact -

'Tis true, 'tis pity - pity 'tis, 'tis true was the mood in which they viewed it as they passed on and forgot it.

But the average was probably higher in Greece than it is in England as to general build and robustness. The Greeks were a fine race, and the Saxons are a fine race; but in England the breed is so mixed that there are as many slight, weakly frames as strong and handsome ones, and the Greek dress would be much less merciful to the former than almost any other costume.

One thing is noticeable in England, that some persons by nature are far longer or shorter waisted than others: many too are of an erratic build. You will find people having fat arms but thin legs, or people with very skinny throats yet with a full bust, or vice versa. The types almost seem to have got confused, as if the moulds had been broken up and put together wrong. In such cases it would be a great pity not to supplement and aid extraneously defects which might spoil the tout ensemble otherwise really handsome and pleasing, but without reversing the features of the type. Now, how can one coat fit everyone? It cannot, and we can have no national costume in our country, least of all can we satisfactorily employ the Greek one. It is because we cannot - because our needs are too conflicting and our types too numerous - that the Greek costume, when tried in England and France, has invariably degenerated into some hideous monstrosity. In the sixteenth century we see what it came to in Elizabeth's state dress; in the nineteenth we see in such old-fashioned books as the 'Ladies' Magazine,' 'La Belle Assemblee,' 'World of Fashion,' etc, which I pray my readers to examine in the British Museum. It is radically unsuited, in its pure, proud, original form, to this country; and it is a costume that cannot be taken 'by halves,' for the simple reason that as soon as it is 'improved upon' or 'adapted,' it ceases to be itself.

I am, in fine, perfectly assured that, in spite of these facts, as facts they are, no one who is resolved to wear the Empire dress, and to think it 'suits' her, will be deterred by advice or threats. People love asking for advice; they receive it gratefully, and as one who has found a treasure; but in her heart every woman is convinced that she knows better than anyone else on most subjects, and especially on dress, and the less she has studied the surer she feels! I can only adjure those who really care for what is beautiful not to carry on the bcante du diable experiment too long at a time. There is a piquancy in the costume, but it is a piquancy that must be handled wisely - like a crab.