courts, are transmitted at regular intervals, by mail, to the principal towns throughout the United States, and from these towns all the neighboring villages take their newest fashions.

"The immediate adoption of the French fashions by other nations, is not unfrequently a source of much merriment to the inventors of them, and is a standing topic of amusement and ridicule to the ladies of Paris; for it is not unfrequently the case, that while the prints of costume, as they are prepared by the French milliners and dress-makers, of the most absurd and fantastical models, are seized upon and imitated in the dresses of the English and Americans-these very prints are subjects of sport to the Parisian ladies for their fantastical absurdity. They regard them in the same light that we do the beads and baubles which are sent to savage nations. With such worthless trinkets we obtain from the savages their valuable furs, and with trinkets of no greater real value, do the French extract the hard earnings from the pockets of the American citizens.

"Had we the capacity of vision at one view to look throughout the Union, and trace the course of fashion and its metamorphosing effects upon society, the view would be ludicrous indeed, and the changes no less unmeaning than ridiculous. At one time we should see thousands of tri-cornered hats thrown off, and as many heads covered with round ones- and their places supplied in turn with the cap maker's fabric: at another season, we should see a million half-worn coats laid aside for moths to feed upon, to give place to some fashion which has no higher merit than the sanction of some foreign court: with another breeze across the Atlantic, another slight commotion is seen throughout the land; and millions of cravats are removed from their wonted location, that the willing necks of American freemen, may be bound in the foreign stocks!

"We will, however, give you one fact, which has no imagination about it. It is illustrative of what has been previously stated, that the villages look for their fashions to the principal towns in their neighborhoods, and that, however independent they may feel of foreign political sway, few Americans have ever yet had the bravery to declare independence of foreign fashions, but meekly submit to what is said to be the latest fashions in the place to which they look as their emporium - whether such fashions indeed exist, or are imposed upon them by cunning individuals, who 'by such craft do get their wealth.'

"A few years since, a country trader in New-Hampshire, in making purchases of a little of every thing for his store, was offered, at a very low rate, a lot of coat buttons of the fashion of half a century since, about the size of a dollar. The keen-sighted trader, by the tailor's assistance, soon had his own coat decorated with them. At home the lads needed no better evidence of its being the latest fashion, than that the trader had just come from the metropolis. The old buttons went off at a great advance, and the village soon shone in Revolutionary splendor! If the shining beaux thought they were dressed in the latest Parisian style, did they not feel as well as though they really were so? And did the supercilious eye with which they regarded the poor fellows who could not afford buttons larger than a cent, beam less with aristocracy than the exalted courtier's?

"One other illustrative anecdote occurs to us, which we cannot forbear giving. A few years since, two young milliners, located in a town in the interior of NewHampshire, found it necessary for their reputation to follow the example of almost every milliner within fifty miles of the metropolis, and to go once a year to Boston for the latest fashions. Among the thrown-aside articles in a dry goods store, worthless from being out of date, were about one hundred and fifty bonnets. The calculating damsels, who had seen enough of the world to know that any fashion would go with a proper introduction, and knowing no good reason why they should remain useless in Boston, kindly took them off the merchant's hands for six cents per bonnet. Arrived at home with their large stock of the latest fashions,' they were careful to finish and decorate a couple in good style, and the next Sunday, (the day on which new fashions are generally displayed,) the 'Boston fashion' was whispered through the village- and not in vain; for it was not long, before the whole stock was disposed of, at from nine shillings to two dollars apiece! The distressing epidemic of a new fashion thus speedily swept off nearly every bonnet in the village, of one year old and upwards-although many were in good health, and showed no signs of decay, till the pestilence began to rage."

Mr. Brewster cites numerous instances of ridiculous aping of foreign fashions, by Americans, such as wearing in winter the summer hats of Paris, because they were the 'latest fashion,' and, while laughing at the folly of a hump-backed court around

Richard the Third, donning the 'bustle,' and appearing as if broken-backed! Our author talks of the large sleeves supping libations from tea-cups, and revelling in sauces at the table. Bless his simple heart! Does he not know that there are no large sleeves now? Would that he could see, of a windy day, in Broadway, a tall and lank but fashionable 'olden maiden,'

With form full lean and sum dele pyned away,

And eke with arms consumed to the bone!'

He would find another evidence, that adaptation of dress to person and figure is of slight moment to the follower of fashion, in comparison with being in the mode. In reply to the objection that permanency in fashion would tend to throw thousands of artistes and artizans out of employment, our author observes:

"Is not the same objection raised to the introduction of labor-saving machinery for manufacturing purposes? Yet we find that although one man now, by the assistance of machinery, can do the work which twenty performed a few years since, yet we do not learn that any more are out of employment, or that they have any less profitable business than formerly. If permanent fashions should be established, some would, no doubt, feel their influence at first: but would they be affected any more injuriously than some branches of business are in every few years, by changes in the fashions? Take the business of wig-maker, for instance. When the full-bottomed wig was worn by a Dauphin of France, to hide an imperfection in his shoulder, wigs became fashionable, and were worn by all ages and classes in society, not only in France but also in England and America - and their manufacture must have given employment to many thousands. But somehow or other, the people of the present age, not being able to discern why the imperfections of a foreign prince should for ever rest upon their heads, have with one consent thrown them off. They did not, however, wait till all the wig-makers were dead before the change was made, and of course many of them must have felt the effects of the change in fashion upon their business. Look too at the broad shoe-buckles of our revolutionary ancestors, and thebright buckles at their knees. Did the buckle-makers starve to death, when, as independent freemen, our sires resolved to wear pantaloons and shoe-strings? No! Nor would the interest of any class of the community be any more seriously affected by establishing permanent models of fashion, than were those of the wig or buckle-maker, who were compelled to seek some other employment for a livelihood.

"If a careful examination is made, it will be found that a much larger number are annually ruined in business by attempting to follow the vagaries of fashion, than possibly could be injured by establishing fashion upon a permanent basis."

We think all will agree with the writer in this position, on another ground, namely: that when the novelty of fashion shall be dispensed with in society, the female circle will at once forego much useless intercourse on the subject, and introduce in its place more rational and profitable topics.

We close, by recommending this Lecture to readers of every class, as containing much that is instructive, and that may be made profitable, to all.

WILD FLOWERS, CULLED FOR EARLY YOUTH. BY A LADY. In one volume. pp. 257. New-York: JOHN S. TAYLOR.

WE are glad to perceive the public favor bestowed upon such works for the moral and religious improvement of the young, as the one now under notice. Stories, naturally related, and blended with good advice implied, and valuable lessons adroitly disguised, or robbed of didactic dullness, are capable of extensive good. They are well calculated to gain those passes of the heart which are often guarded by prejudice or indifference against the direct force of truth. We can heartily commend both the execution and tendency of each of the eight sketches in the volume before us. They are thus entitled: The Young Mechanics; Anselmo, Gardener of Lyons; Adela De

1837.]

Literary Notices.

85

Coven; My Uncle's Wand; The Friend of Olden Times; Stanmore; Glimpses of New-England Mountaineers, from a Traveller's Memoranda; and After the Party. As a specimen of the agreeable, unaffected style of the book, we make the following extract from the 'New-England Mountaineers :'

"One clear sun-shiny morning, in the month of February, some three or four years since, as I was travelling in New-England, not far from the Green Mountains, I left the stage-sleigh, as it drew up to the door of a village post-office, and ran forward to put my blood into quicker circulation.

"A crust had been formed upon the new-fallen snow, by the freezing of a little rain that had followed the snow-storm, so that a pretty decided step was requisite to break the crust, so far as to walk securely, it being extremely slippery.

"Every tree and shrub was likewise encrusted with ice, the bare boughs and slender twigs all standing out in full relief, under a sky of purest blue, glittered in the sunbeams, as if covered with rubies and diamonds.

"Those who have never experienced a northern winter, can form no idea of the effect of sun-rise over such a scene as this.

"The day was severe enough to require all the aids of lion skin, buffalo robes, and fine furs, to preserve the vital fluid from stagnation. I had gone about a quarter of a mile ahead when I met a little urchin of four or five years, carrying a small pail of milk. "Why, my little fellow,' said I, 'where are your stockings this cold morning?' "Aunt Nelly's ironing on 'em.'

"What's your name, my boy?'

"George Washington La Fayette Keeny.'

"The deuce it is! Why, my man, your name is very like a jelly-bag, larger at the top than it is at the bottom.'

"I never seed a jelly-bag,' said the youngster, but that is exactly the shape of our Tom's kite; it's proper big at the top, and tapers off at the end in a leetle peak.'

"Well, you 're a smart boy for a simile. Run home and get your stockings, quick step, and here is a shilling toward another pair.'

"On I ran, but was soon compelled to leave the faint traces of a road to avoid a cutter that came hurrying on at the heels of a frightened market-horse. One thing after another came bouncing out, strewing the path, and, last of all, apparently much against his will, out popped the driver himself, heels over head, his capes flying about his ears, his cap tossed into a gully, and his temper not a little discomposed. He sprang upon

his feet.

"Now, that'are skittish colt of our Dick's-what on 'arth can a fellow do to stop the trollup-she goes like a jack-o'-lantern. Hullo there! Stop that 'are mare, will ye? My stars- what 'ill our Nab say?'

"But the strong and lively perception of the ludicrous, that characterizes the NewEnglander, even of the roughest mould, seemed to overpower his vexation. Springing up from the hollow, into which his fur-cap had rolled, he swung it round his head, and burst out into a fit of obstreperous laughter.

"How the adventure ended, history does not record; the coach came up, and we were soon beyond the region of buttered roads."

A New-England country-wedding is admirably depicted in the subjoined paragraphs:

"We reined up to an old-fashioned, solitary farm-house, flanked by a range of barns and stables of more modern date, and their capaciousness spoke well for the thrift of the owner.

"The farmer himself answered our summons at the door.

"Can you give us a lodging to-night, my friend? The roads are perilous in the dark, the storm is increasing every moment, and 't is fifteen miles to the nearest public house. You will really do us a christian office, if you will but afford us a shelter until day-light to-morrow.' The old gentleman hesitated, as he stood with the door half open to shield himself from the rain and hail.

"Why, gentlemen, ye see, it is not quite convenient to-night. We've got a wedden here. I can't tell what our folks would do with so many people. We shall have to keep all the weddeners, like enough 't is a savage night, out, I guess.' At this crisis the son of 'mine host,' and heir-apparent of house and homestead, came forward.

"Father, I guess we can accommodate the gentlemen somehow. The young men can sit up-there will be no difficulty. We can give them a shelter and a warm supper at any rate.'

"All was settled, and in we went; and after due stamping, shaking over-coats, and brushing up, with suitable ablutions, we were ushered into the presence of the bride. She was an interesting girl of eighteen, with a countenance bright with health, intelligence, and happiness, dressed with marked simplicity, and in charming taste. On one side she was sustained by her lover-I beg pardon, her husband; the knot had been tied

a few minutes before our untimely intrusion on the other by two fair girls, who, by their white favors, I took to be bride's-maids.

"The ceremony of congratulating, or saluting, the new-married lady, now commenced; but I perceived the young lady grew pale, and showed symptoms of great reluctance at receiving the salutations of this promiscuous company. The pretty bride's-maids too, were considered fair game, and after resisting, with very becoming shyness, they escaped from the room, till the odious ceremony, as they called it, was

over.

"This odd custom duly complied with, a custom now quite obsolete in our cities, cake and metheglin were handed about. An apology was made to the strangers for the absence of wine, on the plea of 'total abstinence." A question was made at once, whether metheglin did not come under the ban.

"Well, well, my friends,' said the old gentleman, 'if it goes agin your consciences, ye need not partake; but one thing can tell ye, 't is better than any wine. When I was a young man, I read a book called the Vicar of Wakefield, and I remember how the minister used to praise madam's gooseberry wine; now I don't believe it was a grain better than my wife's metheglin, and I don't think there's any sin in drinking on't either- at a wedden.'

*

*

"The company seemed very well pleased with the old gentleman's logic, and still better satisfied with his lady's excellent metheglin; and the two hours that intervened between cake and supper were passed in cheerful conversation and music. Supper was now announced, not by bell or gong, or even the whispered 'supper is ready' of some pampered son of Ethiopia. No, no; by the good patriarch of the household himself, who, with looks of real kindness, and true-hearted primitive hospitality, threw open the door of the large old-fashioned inner kitchen, and, rubbing his hands, cried out, 'Come, my friends, all; supper is smoking; take your seats.' Thus saying, he led the way, while the company followed in his wake, rather unceremoniously, considering the occasion. We had venison brought in a frozen state from the Canadian borders; we had delicious oysters from the coast of Connecticut; we had salmon that had been preserved fresh in ice; we had ducks that surpassed the famous canvas-backs, and the most delicate of wild fowls and chickens, dressed in various ways. I must not omit to mention a famous bird of the barn-yard, fattened and killed, as the old gentleman asserted, 'a purpose for Clary's wedden, and if it a'nt nice,' he added, it is not my fault.' Next came our dessert: I like to be particular. We had of pasties a variety-custards, sweet-meats, jellies, both foreign and domestic, honey rifled from the white clover of their meadows, and all the different products of their dairy in high perfection.

*

"After supper a toast was proposed. Long life, prosperity, and concord to the newly-married couple;' which was drank with all gravity."

These 'Wild Flowers' are tastefully secured by the publisher, who has contributed not a little to the cause of typographical reform. Two pretty engravings, also, embellish the volume.

LIVE AND LET LIVE; OR DOMESTIC SERVICE ILLUSTRATED. By the Author of 'Hope Leslie,' 'The Linwoods,' 'The Poor Rich Man, and the Rich Poor Man,' etc. In one volume. pp. 216. New-York: HARPER AND BROTHERS.

A HALF page is left us, by the chances of type,' wherein to express an opinion of this little volume; and we forego the pleasure of extracts, that we may early call attention to a work which should be in the hands of every mistress of a family and servants in the United States. A thorough knowledge of American domestic life; a spirit of generous kindness toward all, even the humblest, conditions of humanity; a combination of incidents the most life-like, and all fertile in useful lessons both to servants and those under whom they are placed by Providence; a style simple, touching, and level to every capacity; these are some of the characteristics of this charming little book. We cannot doubt that the warmest hopes of the benevolent writer, in relation to her work, may be realized; that it will rouse female minds to reflection upon the duties and capabilities of mistresses of families, making them feel their obligations to 'inferiors in position,' and quickening their sleeping consciences.

EDITORS' TABLE.

WILLIAM TYNDALE'S 'NEWE TESTAMENTE.' — We have often thought how delightfully a few hours might be passed in the London British Museum, in examining the first translation that was ever made of the Scriptures into the English tongue; and lo! without the expense, trouble, or peril of journeying so far, that celebrated work, more than three hundred years old, is before us, with a full and complete memoir of the evermemorable author, and eke his engraved portrait, which whoso examines, shall forthwith pronounce, from prima facie evidence, to be a faithful likeness. What an expanse of forehead! - how clear and searching the eyes! - what an air of decision and martyr-like firmness in the compression of the lips!-forming, in connection with the surrounding multitudinous beard, such an expression as might be produced by a blending of Lorenzo Dow's and Ex-Sheriff Parkins' most satirical smile. This acescent aspect, however, may well be pardoned; for Tyndale was persecuted through life, and finally suffered a painful martyrdom in the cause of his Master.

Few Bible-readers are aware how much of persecution, of 'pain, anguish, and tribulation,' they endured, who were the original translators of the Scriptures into English, and the early defenders of the doctrines they teach. The popish clergy charged Tyndale with altering the sacred records, and forbade the circulation of his Testament, under the severest penalties. The priest-ridden King of England joined in the crusade, and by a 'constytucyon prouyncy all,' prohibited the issue of any book of Scripture, in the English tongue; 'as though,' says Tyndale, 'it weren heresye for a Crysten man to rede Crystes gospell.' In reply to the charge of altering the New Testament, the martyr says, in a letter to a contemporary: 'I call God to recorde agaynst the daye we shal appeare before our Lorde Jesu Crist, to give rekonynge of oure doinges, that I neuer alterd one syllable of Goddes worde agaynst my conscyence, nor wolde do thys daye, yf all that is in earthe, whether it be honoure, pleasure, or ryches, myght be giuen me.' And in the preface to his first edition, he also observes: 'I haue here translated (brethren and susters, moost dere and tenderly beloued in Crist,) the Newe Testamente for youre spirituall edyfyinge, consolacion, and solas: the causes that moved me to translate, y thought better that other shulde ymagion, than that y shulde rehearce them. Moreover, y supposed yt superfluous, for who ys so blynde to axe why lyght shulde be shewed to them that walke in dercknes, where they cannot but stomble, and where to stomble ys the daunger of eternall damnacion.'

All attempts to stop the circulation of the Scriptures were of no avail. Though they were not distributed withouten grete auenture and parell,' yet they ran and were glorified. The Roman Catholic bishop complains, that though often collected and burned, stil these pestylent bokes are throwen in the strete, and lefte at mennys dores by nyghte,' and that where they 'durste not offer theyr poyson to sel, they wolde of theyr cheryte poyson men for noughte.' In vain does the King issue orders, urging his subjects to 'kepe pure and clene of all contagyon of wronge opynion in Cristes relygion,' and warn them not to 'suffer suche euil sede, contaygyous and dampnable, to be sowen and take roote, ouergrowinge the corne of the Catholick fayth.' 'He that compyled the booke,' says Tyndale, notwithstanding these warnings and edicts, 'purposyth, with