affected by the clerics. The peaked caps, after the order of both cricketing-caps and midshipmen's, are so very becoming that they are made in tones to match the costume, with Surah crowns and velvet peaks, sometimes with a device embroidered in front. With this there is just the fear that they may become vulgar, but, with care, they are piquant and charming. There are shapes to suit all occasions and all faces. The "Sailor" is reproduced, with a higher crown, in velvet, and the "Marshal's Hat" has been reduced in size and brought out to suit the requirements of women who have suc

ceeded in rendering it bewitching. What could any gallant man require more? And no Marshal of so polite a nation as France could naturally wish to see his hat converted to a more charming purpose.

PARIS.

PARISIANS are gradually returning to their gay and brilliant capital. Women of fashion and of independent means linger as long as possible in some health-resort of the sunny South, or they settle down for a few months in their beautiful châteaux to enjoy the freedom and pleasures of a refined country home, and to take a share in the outdoor sports of the sterner sex. To shoot in the fields, and to hunt in the forest, sportswomen are anxious to don unique though dashing costumes, copied as much as possible from those worn by their male friends, but transformed, so to speak, by the fairy touch of feminine taste and grace. The horsewoman being the most intrepid, we will for this reason first attend to her attire. There is, however, really nothing new to report; the riding-dress belonging to the classic type allows of but a few changes. It has to be always of perfect fit, quite plain, and usually in black or dark blue cloth, although sometimes a green or an otter cloth may be preferred. The clinging skirt just touching the ground is wisely provided with a curved seam, forming a slight fulness, in which the knee is moulded; this slight curve is hidden when walking into a fold, obtained by looping up the extra fulness with a button. The glove-fitting habit-bodice is fastened with small grelots in either silk crochet-work or plain gimp; the throat is encircled by a straight linen collar secured with a man's pin, and the close-fitting sleeves button over linen cuffs. Below the breeches or tights, in grey, red, or beige elastic silk, the cloth gaiters reach, matching, like the silk stockings, the colour of the habit. The high silk hat, de rigueur in town, is replaced in the country by a small hat in black, grey, or maroon felt, similar to those worn during the summer by our youthful élégantes who affect tailormade costumes. Such is the correct style of the ridinghabit as understood by French equestrians, but it is highly important to specify that this ordinary dress, if tolerated, is not considered in the best taste. The true elegance is to have the riding-habit harmonising with the equipage or retinue of the hosts. Short skirt, habit bound with velvet, coquettish three-cornered hat in felt, lined with velvet and trimmed either with feather or with a plain galloon, the whole chosen with a due regard to the specified colours, is considered a garb of

supreme bon ton, and a compliment paid to the hosts. It has, however, the great drawback of being an expensive fashion for women who during the season visit several friends, and to obviate this difficulty it has been decided to wear red habits. When inviting her guests the châtelaine frequently forwards them the bouton de l'équipage, which is really a rosette in the colours of the retinue. To receive this bouton from a princely house is a compliment. If the Amazon dress does not give much scope for the whims of fashion, such is not the case with the costumes adapted for carriage wear in which to drive to the meet. They must be rather dashing, yet treated with a certain masculine simplicity. The Directoire redingote, the Louis XIII. and Louis XV. vests, and the large Gainsborough felt hat decked with

nodding plumes, are the salient features of the picturesque attire, made in special materials, notably in velvet encrusted with leather, in Rob Roy green cloth, perforated with open-work embroidery, and mounted on a bright foundation of scarlet flannel, and in several kinds of homely cheviots smartened up with velvet. A short skirt partly concealed with a drapery deftly caught up in formal folds, a velvet waistcoat, or a kid plastron, combine the. most suitable accoutrements invented for such occasions. A costume in green silk velvet with scrolls in bronze kid is also admissible, as well as a neater one in beaver-coloured cloth, with a front in fur or Swedish kid, and a small partridge-wing or woodcock's head added to the waterproof felt hat.

The new jackets too, with their military braiding and froggings, completed with gimp epaulettes and stylish hoods, are in excellent taste on such occasions when worn over a redingote of shaggy cloth.

A glance at our illustrations reveals the style of promenade costume and hats we are now wearing in Paris-for, truth to say, French women much affect stylish hats during this demi-saison. The outdoor dress, designed by Mme. Cavally, Boulevard des Italiens, consists of Vandyke cloth, pinked out at the edge, and draped with a moyen-âge pleat over a black velvet skirt; the visite is formed of the two materials. The Bragance bonnet has a crown, strings, and bows of pale green watered ribbon; the sides are black velvet with picotees embroidered in gold, and the aigrette is a graceful amalgamation of feathers and wings.

The hats in the second engraving are designed by Mme. Virot, Rue de la Paix. The Du Barry is in moss-green plush, with a bow and strings of white and maize watered ribbons. The aigrette is white. In the D'Estrées hat, which is of grey felt, the brim is turned up at the back, the large bow is of grey satin ribbon, and grey feathers intermingle with its loops.

The month of November is likely to be very gay in Paris this year. Many wealthy and aristocratic families have had to return to town unusually early to attend a few grand marriages, such as the one of the Duchesse de Castries with the Vicomte Emmanuel d'Harcourt, and that of Mlle. de Behague with the Comte de Janay. Numerous brilliant parties and festivities have necessarily been given to celebrate those fashionable weddings, and plenty of gaieties are in store for some, and plenty of work for others, which will impart a great impetus to all branches of trade. Meanwhile, the principal firms devoted to women's requirements have for some time been busily preparing wonderful creations, both for these ceremonies and for the autumn season. Mlle. Corbay-Wenzel has already on view a splendid assortment of new costumes and mantles to suit even the most fastidious tastes. Amongst the choice it is somewhat puzzling to select a few models illustrating the leading types of winter fashions. There is quite a furore for antique watered silk, and the bright material, with its rippling waves, is seen on almost every dress and mantle, either as a sash, a bow, a drapery, or a panel. Here, for instance, is an extremely lady-like costume in brick-red cloth, with a plain skirt in moire silk; a panel

of the same material also brightens up on the right side the drooping drapery of the tunic, whilst on the left it is raised high over the hip to display the skirt. The Directoire bodice is fastened across a puffed front in pink gauze, by a wide tab secured on each side with glittering clasps of beaded gimp. Pekin, or striped silk, has been employed for two demi-toilette gowns; in one, very wide satin stripes cross the moss - green Sicilienne ground, and are used not only for the skirt and the bodice, but for the paniers, which are gracefully looped up over the hips. This drapery, carried to the back, falls in straight folds. The tablier and shrt are of self-toned China crape, sparingly but tastefully embroidered to correspond with the bands which frame the puffed front, and are continued at the back as braces. The other model of striped black moire and faille is much in the same style, but more suitable for a matron, as it is trimmed with black Chantilly lace instead of with embroidered crape; and with this lace the blouse and graceful coquilles pleatings are formed.

Satin merveilleux is not altogether set aside, as proved by a charming gown made entirely of satin in the quiet tint known as "Cordovan leather;" the tablier is arranged in soft waves, and the back in rigid though artistic pleats, on each side of which sparkle pentes wrought in iridescent jet and chenille; the plastron displayed on the coat-bodice matches these pentes or panels.

Mlle. Corbay-Wenzel has also a great variety of pelisses prepared for the cold weather. The shapes do not apparently exhibit anything strikingly new, but the materials and trimmings are extremely elegant-indeed, gorgeous. The skilful weaving, artistic designs, and kaleidoscopic colouring are almost beyond description. The wraps-out of the common run-are made generally of two rich stuffs. A graceful coat, in superb Genoa plush, close-fitting at the back, has its straight and semiloose fronts in green velvet, as well as the pendent sleeves, which reach to the edge of the garment, and are all aglow with gimp silk and emerald beads. The lining, in light green satin, contrasts softly with the deep emerald-green of the glossy pile; from the opening at the back a few pleats or kiltings of the dress-skirt escape, also in the plain green velvet. Another cloak cut as a mante, loose in front and close-fitting to the figure at the back, is in black luminous moire silk, over which have been lightly thrown delicate traceries of plain satin; the skirt, kilted fan shape, is in velvet, and fastened at the waist by a huge gimp motif in silk and jet, shining between two bands of marten-tail fur; the quilting is in a warm shade of garnet satin. A redingote, in coarsetinted vicuna, describing in front pilgrim sleeves, is closely gathered at the bend of the back, where an insertion is placed of otter-brown velvet between two gold galloons. The small visite shape is still in favour. Here is one in green Bengaline, cut short at the back where the cape finishes at the waist. It is ornamented in front with a plastron and long stole ends of blue fox, over which are attached beaded fasteners, alternating with fluffy bows of moss-green satin. A simpler model is made with tabac d'Espagne cloth, adorned with open-work, silk rosettes, and black jet. A motif in passementerie, with drops,

cluster of quills or couteaux feathers in tinted green bronze. The toque chasseur, in old-gold velvet, has its pleated crown crossed with a scarf in fawn-coloured watered silk, whilst its peculiar high and pointed front is flanked with two quails, placed with their wings upwards to simulate aigrettes. Another type of hat is in chestnut-brown velvet; maroon corded silk is used for the soft crown, and at the side is arranged a lovely aigrette, composed of a nest of loops, in moire ribbon,

seaside, where the picturesque cap was in great vogue. However, when worn in town it is rendered more ornamental-for example, with a marabout trimming cunningly arranged as a scarf, and intermingled with large, upright loops of ribbon in silver-grey satin, spangled with steel balls. The same shape in willowgreen moire is stylishly veiled with gold lace, and encircled with a band of black feathers. The stiff loops, in black velvet, are caught up with tiny buckles in paste diamonds. The Zamoijska toque, in moss-green velvet, is bordered with a frilling of mordoré plush, a blending of colours at present most fashionable. At the side and in front bows of green moire stand erect, and a

shot willow-green and pink, against which a woodcock is very cosily resting. To complete this enumeration of varieties of toques the cocotte model must be mentioned, in flame-red velvet, and with a crown of tancoloured moire, folded deftly so as to form two ears, framing on each side a large cock, with its glittering metallic plumage slightly flattened down over the top of the hat, and proudly raising its head in front with its cockscomb in flaring red velvet. Imagine a sprightly brunette wearing such a cap! Not less quaint, if less showy, is the Russian toque in phosphorescent green velvet, surrounded with a wreath of ears in fur in the centre of which a delicate sable's head peeps out.

I

HAVE been a play-goer for over forty years, during which I have seen many a star rise and set-in fact, the whole dramatic hemisphere has changed; and there have been countless alterations, some for the

and attractive woman; but whether she would ever make a great actress remained to be proved. It depended upon her being able to keep a steady head, in spite of popular admiration-so as to attain by patient

played just before she left for America, was the first indication of her capacity to impersonate Shakespeare's heroines. The fantastic love-lorn boy-girl, witty and winning, yet never losing her maiden dignity, was played by her better than by anybody since Helen Faucit. She seemed to have in her that rare combination of nature and art, the poet's instinct and the woman's soul, without which no actress need attempt those women of women-Shakespeare's.

Therefore when she came back and announced her daring, unique, and ingenious combination of Hermione and Perdita-mother and daughter-in the Winter's Tale, I was eager to see her; all the more because the newspaper critics were against her. But a press verdict is not infallible. I have seen many a poor play and actor written up, many a good one written down, and both at last always found their right level. Most of the objections and condemnations were futile and unnecessary. For instance, the doubling of the parts, so much complained of as "confusion," caused, I found, only the omission of four lines of Perdita's part, and the introduction of a harmless dummy for about three minutes before the curtain's fall. The excisions of words and phrases which the natural growth of refinement between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries made necessary, were very few; and, much as she has been abused, Miss Anderson was right to make them. All else she has left as she found it. Dear old Will, though he calls a spade a spade, and deals with human nature as he saw it-the human nature of his time-is at heart always pure, always moral. In him you never find that elegant euphuistic glossing over of sin, to be laughed at in comedy and sentimentalised upon in tragedy, which makes one shrink from taking one's young daughters to almost any modern play.

The Winter's Tale is essentially a tale, no more. It goes against all the canons of dramatic unity, is full of ridiculous anachronisms, yet has a human interest and poetic charm peculiarly its own. Also it is so seldom acted that it must have come fresh to the London critics, startling them, not out of their proprieties, but out of their improprieties. The picture of a young man and young woman, bachelor and maid, innocently and virtuously in love with one another; of a wife so consciously pure that she can give the kiss of welcome to her husband's friend (as was the custom in Shakespeare's time) without thought of blame, and whose only reproach to that brutal husband is

instead of the Fedoras and Theodoras in tragedy, and the whole range of transplanted French heroines of comedy, had courage to present to the public two such women-merely women--as Hermione and Perdita.

Miss Anderson is not a perfect Hermione, especially in the first scene, when she does not well manage a not always harmonious voice; and her manner is scarcely stately enough for "the daughter of a king," the matron-queen whose sweet courtesy to her husband's guest is miles removed from modern "flirting." But at once she strikes the keynote of the character-thorough womanliness. Her fondling of Mamillius, her kindliness to her women, her tender playfulness with Leontes, all carry out the true conception of the part. And in the trial scene, when a commoner actress would have given us a ranting tragedy-queen, Miss Anderson is simplicity itself—a wronged, broken-hearted woman, sick and worn, but yet noble in her innocence. Her by-play is excellent, every gesture full of the deepest pathos; and her blank verse the critics said she did not know how to declaim blank verse-was not "declaimed" at all, but wrung from her, brokenly and by fits, exactly as in such a case would be.

The only fault in this scene-as fine a one as ever Shakespeare wrote is her parting look of reproach at her husband, which Miss Anderson would do well to reconsider, or omit entirely.

Another stage "point" which was severely commented on, and must have seemed strange to an audience accustomed to watch the ravings of heroines, even when in articulo mortis, was Hermione's reception of the tidings that her little son is dead. In that supreme agony she neither shrieks nor moans, but stands paralysed a moment (the stony look of her face is a perfect study), then covers her head with her mantle and sinks slowly down. Genius and nature could alone have suggested to Miss Anderson a gesture so pathetic and so real-just like the peasant-woman who throws her apron over her head. Any one who has ever received from fate a blow which seems to turn the living and breathing woman into an image of stone-conscious only of one instinct, how best to conceal it--will acknowledge the truthfulness of the delineation.

It was a bold idea, a critical test, to disappear from an audience thus, and reappear half an hour after as Perdita

"the prettiest low-born lass that ever Danced on the green sward."

That exquisite creature, in whom "all she does still betters what is done," was never more exquisitely presented than by Miss Anderson, who, physically, is a perfect Shakespeare's woman. Her beauty, her grace, the almost child-like sweetness of her face and gestures, and an atmosphere of innocent simplicity so completely un-" stagey" take one fairly by storm. We follow her with eager eyes, and truly, when she dances, wish her "" a wave o' the sea, That she might do it ever."