a new fashion, when once under way, except a fashion newer still. Like a contagious disease every fashion runs its course.

Fashion began in England under the reign of Alfred. Commerce had then extended the arts and sciences, and opened a communication with the rest of the world. Men began to grow rich, and the women began to study costume. The uniformity of dress which had formerly pervaded all ranks no longer existed; but elegance of attire distinguished the wealthy from the poor, the distinction becoming more and more marked through the various periods of English history.

Some of the most ridiculous habits in dress owed their origin to the national enmity between Great Britain and France. When the war broke out in the reign of Queen Anne, the sprightly Gauls set their wits to work to invent a fashionable article that would work mischief with the English women. The result of their infinite art was that famous machine, the hoop petticoat. It measured seven yards in circumference. This they adroitly smuggled into England. It was seized by the customs authorities at Sussex, advertised, and of course the pattern at once became general. In this scheme, it is said, the French ladies reasoned that as their climate was warmer than that of England, they would be comfortable in hoops, while the women of the latter country, if they wore them, would catch their death of cold, or at least suffer endless torments from rheumatism. But the hardy British females became accustomed to the machine, and improved upon it by adding two yards to its circumference, which so disheartened the Gallic beauties that they gave up hoops entirely, leaving the English fair ones in complete possession.

In the United States, or rather the Colonies, in the middle of the last century, fashions were pretty much exact imitations of those in the mother land. An American paper, of some fifty years ago, contained an account of fashionable costumes about seventy years previous. Thinking it may be gratifying to the curious to know how the people, who even then thought they "might as well be out of the world as out of fashion," appeared, we subjoin the article: "Cocked hats, wigs, and red cloaks, were the usual dress of gentlemen; boots were rarely seen, except among military men.

Shoestrings were worn only by those who could not buy any sort of buckles. In winter, round coats were used, made stiff with buckram, which came down to the knees in front.

"Before the Revolution, boys wore wigs and cocked hats; and boys of genteel families wore cocked hats till within about thirty

years.

"Ball dress for gentlemen consisted of silk coat, and breeches of the same and embroidered waistcoats; sometimes white satin breeches. Buckles were fashionable, and a man could not have remained in a ball-room with shoestrings. It was usual for the bride, bridegroom, and maids and men attending, to go to church together three successive Sundays after the wedding, with a change of dress each day. Thus, one gentleman appeared the first Sunday in white broadcloth, the second in blue and gold, the third in peach bloom and pearl buttons. Gentlemen wore powder, and many of them sat from thirty to forty minutes every day under the barber's hands, to have their hair craped, suffering no inconsiderable pain most of the time from hair pulling, and sometimes from the hot curling tongs. Crape cushions, and hoops, were indispensable in full dress. A sailor, walking in one of the streets of the city, met two ladies whose hoops entirely occupied the sidewalk, and seeing no way by which he might pass them without going into the street (there being no pavement), he, with no small agility, sprung completely over the hoops, and through a vacancy made by their extension, to the infinite diversion of the spectators. At the elbows, the ladies wore from four to six rows of ruffles. They wore no bonnets whatever; and the head-dress consisted of a large quantity of wool laid on the head, with the hair lapped fancifully over it; these were denominated cushions, and were generally six inches high. Another kind of head-dress, which was called a calash, was made in the manner of a gig top, and was drawn over the face when the heat of the sun was too oppressive. No parasols were in use then; and a gentleman who brought a large umbrella from England, was, in consequence of it, considered a great fop. The ladies wore shoes with sharp toes, and large silver buckles set with brilliant stones. Silk stockings were worn by ladies and gentlemen, cotton ones not being known then.

Ladies' gowns generally had a train from two to three feet long. Sometimes ladies were dressed the day before the party, and slept in easy chairs, to keep their hair in fit condition for the following night. Most ladies went to parties on foot, if they could not get a cast in a friend's carriage or chaise. Gentlemen rarely had a chance to ride.

"The latest dinner hour was two o'clock; some officers of the colonial government dined later occasionally. In genteel families, ladies went to drink tea about four o'clock, and rarely staid after candle light in summer. It was the fashion for ladies to propose a visit, not to wait for an invitation."

Who starts all the fashions? Perhaps some bold, vain woman of Paris, France, whose character will not bear inspection. Perhaps a committee of sensational dressmakers. No matter who, or where, the fashions come about, and further than this the people have small concern.

Why do we follow the fashions? Let Austin Q. Hagerman

answer:

"The genus homo is gregarious. It collects together in nations, tribes, parties, sects, orders, 'sets.' Like sheep or geese, we are apt to follow a leader with unquestioning readiness. We like plenty of company. To belong to the majority is very satisfactory; to be joined to a respectable minority is quite endurable; but to be quite alone is truly trying-not a so-called singularity, which has a certain sanction of fashion, but a real separateness, that draws criticisms, witticisms, sharp remarks, curious looks and significant smiles.

"So one of the first inducements to fashion is the desire to be like somebody else. If we are odd we shall be despised; folks will laugh. If we are fashionable we shall be admired, perhaps envied. Folks will say, 'How splendid so and so was dressed!' "Everybody wears it so,' is the chief reason why everybody wears it so. Dress like the rest-this is Fashion's plea, or command, rather, for if no one did as 'the rest' do, where would be the fashion?

"To a certain extent like things have a sympathy for each other. We desire the sympathy, or like feeling, of others, Dress furn

ishes a common bond of unity; so we dress like everybody to get everybody's good opinion. Sometimes this repels. As, for instance, one in a certain position in society, who prides herself on her good taste, dislikes to see another with poor taste dressed like herself. So strong is this feeling that it spoils the pleasure of wearing a fine, new article of apparel to see our lowly neighbor wearing a similar one. But how it heightens the pleasure if our rich and fashionable neighbor wears the same! This is pride. So when the haughty rich ones see common people adopting their style of dress, they scorn to keep that fashion any longer, and find something different, which in its turn goes the way of the other. And so the giddy chase goes on; the rich ever trying to keep beyond the poor, and the poor ever striving to come up to the rich. This, together with the love of novelty, keeps the fashion continually changing.

"The world is a respecter of persons. The man in goodly apparel gets the best seat. The meanly clad may sit back in a corner. Self likes the good places; so the poor imitate the rich; Homespun takes pattern after Shoddy. It is not love of the beautiful which impels to this, but pride, selfishness, laziness. In the fashion' implies wealth, leisure, ease, polish, freedom from toil. 'Out of the fashion' implies poverty, plainness, simplicity, a life of labor. Each leaves its mark. 'Society' calls the one refinement, the other coarseness.

"Costly things are coveted, for wealth is highly esteemed among men. If we dress in high-priced clothing it is presumed that we are rich. Plainness is shunned, for poverty is despised among men. If we wear common-priced things it is taken as evidence that we are common folks.

"In this world the many must work or suffer. Only a few-a pitiable, unhappy few-can pass through life in selfish, enervating uselessness. The industrious are obeying God's great law of work; they live longer and are happier than the lazy; then why should the marks of toil be looked upon as brands of ignominy?

"As fashion pipes so the world dances. When she gets through her list of tunes she plays them over again, with such variations as seem agreeable to her fancy. So the course of fashion goes round