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COSTUMES OF ALL NATIONS.-THIRD

THE TOILETTE IN TURKEY.

CHAPTER I.

LET us transport our readers to the shores of the East-the land of the Sultan-the far-famed city of Stamboul. Here, within the closely-guarded chambers of the harem, mid the perfume of thousands of Lowers, the soft rippling of fountains, and the sweet melody of voices, "Fashion" still holds undisputed sway. Within the gorgeous chamber, secluded from the gaze of all but her immediate attendants, sits the Eastern beauty, the Rose of the Garden, the Pearl of the Ocean. Paintings and gildings adorn the walls; carpets of the richest dyes are laid over the floors; silken sofas and couches, whose softness invites repose, are scattered around; and near them le cushions, glittering in satin, velvet, brocade, and embroidery, and tassels and fringes of gold and silver. To describe her beauty, and the dress of Eastern ladies, let me borrow the gifted pen of Lady Wortley Montague/

"On a sofa, raised three steps, and covered with Persian carpets, sat the kihaya's lady, leaning on cushions of white satin embroidered; and at her feet sat two young girls about twelve years old, lovely as angels, dressed perfectly rich, and almost covered with jewels. But they were hardly seen near the fair Fatima, so much her beauty effaced everything I have ever seen; nay, all that has been cated lovely in England or Germany. She was dressed in a caftan* of gold brocade, flowered with silver, very well fitted to her shape, and showing to admiration the beauty of her bosom, only shaded by the thin gauze of her shift. Her drawers were pale pink, her waistcoat green and silver, her slippers white satin, finely embroidered, her lovely arms adorned with bracelets of diamonds, and her broad girdle set with diamonds. Upon her head a rich Turkish handkerchief of pink and silver, her own fine black hair hanging a great length, in various tresses, and on one side of her head some bodkins of jewels."

Such was the dress of the lady of the deputy to the grand vizier, above one hundred years since, and such is still the dress of the Eastern women; for, though fashion frequently changes the color of their garments, and the materials of which they are composed-now bidding the fair recluse array herself in pale blue silk, now in deep crimson, then again in white muslin, fine as the spider's web, pure as the untrodden snow, still the form of the garments never changes, and has been the same for hundreds of years

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Lady Wortley Montague, who, while residing in the East, adopted the costume of the country, thus describes her own dress in a letter to her sister, then in England :

"The first part of my dress is a pair of drawers, very full, that reach to my shoes, and eonceal the legs more modestly than your petticoats; they are of a thin rose-colored damask, brocaded with silver flowers. My shoes are of white kid leather, embroidered with gold. Over this hangs my smock, of a fine white silk gauze, edged with embroidery This smock has wide sleeves, hanging half way down the arm, and is closed at the neck with a diamond button. The antery is a waistcoat, made close to the shape, of white and gold damask, with very long sleeves falling back, and fringed with deep gold fringe, and should have diamond or pearl buttons. My caftan, of the same stuff as my drawers, is a robe exactly fitted to my shape, and reaching to my feet, with very long, straight, falling sleeves. Over this is my girdle, of about four inches broad, which all that can afford it have entirely of diamonds or other precious stones; it must be fastened before with a clasp of diamonds. The curdee is a loose robe they throw off or put on, according to the weather, being of a rich brocade (mine is green and gold), either lined with sable or ermine; the sleeves reach very little below the shoulders. The head-dress is composed of a cap called talpack, which in winter is of fine velvet, embroidered with pearls and diamonds, and in summer of a light silver stuff; this is fixed on one side of the head, hanging a little way down, with a gold tassel, and bound on either with a circle of diamonds (as I have seen several) or a rich embroidered handkerchief. On the other side of the head the hair is flat, and here the ladies are at liberty to show their fancies; some putting flowers, others a plume of heron's feathers, and, in short, what they please. But the most general fashion is a large bouquet of jewels, made like natural flowers; that is, the buds of pearl, the roses of different colored rubies, the jessamines of diamonds, the jonquil of topazes, &c., and so well set and enamelled 'tis hard to imagine anything of that kind so beautiful. The hair hangs at full length behind, divided into tresses braided with pearl and ribbon, which is always in great quantity."

The above is considered a perfect description of the indoor costume of an Eastern lady of quality; but, when they go abroad, they are all obliged to wear two dresses, called murlins; these form a complete disguise, one covering all the face, except

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the eyes, the other quite concealing the head-dress. Besides these, a ferigee is worn to hide the figure; it has straight sleeves, reaching to the ends of the fingers, and, wrapping round them, perfectly conceals the dress and shape.

All Eastern women, whether of high or low degree, wear drawers: indeed, the poorer classes only wear these and a shirt. Yet, though half naked, no one is ever seen without a veil; which, even from the time of Rebecca, has been considered a necessary part of female dress; and all but the very poorest contrive to possess some jewels, for ear-rings, bracelets, and necklaces.

Although there is a chapter in the Koran which strictly prohibits adorning of the person with gold, silver, and jewels, silks, and costly robes, the Turks do not seem to pay the slightest attention to the ad

monition; for men, as well as women, only esteem their attire in proportion to the expense lavished upon it.

The fair imprisoned inmate of the harem, whose life glides away in all the dull monotony of seclusion, whose only means of cheating the lagging hours is by employing them in embroidery, or in watching the graceful movements of the dancing girls, may be pardoned for devoting so much time to the amusements of the toilette.

In Bulgaria the women wear on their heads a cap somewhat resembling a mitre, ornamented with pieces of money; it covers the forehead, and the hair, plaited with shells, hangs down the back. The robe is long, and fastened round the waist by a girdle; the surcoat, which closes tightly round the throat, with a bow of ribbon in front, is curiously embroidered, and often adorned with jewels. Over this garment is worn a loose robe, not unlike a great coat; it is shorter than the under vest, and has long sleeves, which, though wide at the top, become tight below the elbow to the wrist: this garment is open underneath the arms as far as the bottom, and the sides are united with large bows of ribbon, placed at distances from each other. The slippers are very low in the quarters, and made high upon the instep.

In Wallachia the women of high rank wear splendid silk or satin robes, often embroidered or brocaded in gold and silver. The upper garment is full and long, with long tight sleeves: it is not confined at the waist, but hangs quite loose; it is open at the bosom, and shows a splendid jeweled stomacher, and is generally trimmed all round with fur. Beneath it is an embroidered vest, with a collar of precious stones and velvet encircling the

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throat. On the head is a cap of fur, made something in the shape of a turban.

The young girls wear their hair flat on the temples, and twisted in a broad plait behind, interspersed with flowers. The silk jupe reaches to the feet; the bodice is sufficiently open to show an ornamented stomacher; the sleeves are tight to the hands, and a colored scarf, after circling the waist, falls to the feet.

As stays are unknown in these countries, a slim waist is never seen, and a French élégante would be shocked at the clumsy tournure of a Wallachian belle.

In Lady Craven's "Journal," we have an account of her reception at the Wallachian court. She says, "In the corner sat the prince, dressed and attended à la Turque; over his head were ranged the horses' tails, the great helmet and feather, the magnificent sabre, and other arms with which I had seen him parade the streets at Constantinople. **** I was then summoned to an audience with the princess: she was sitting à la Turque, with three of her daughters by her. There were twenty ladies in the room, one of whom, instead of a turban, had a high cap of sable put behind her hair, that was combed up straight over a kind of roll this head-dress was far from being ugly or unbecoming. The princess told me that it was a lady of Wallachia, and that the cap was the headdress of the country."

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MYRA BELL; OR, SECOND LOVE.

CHAPTER I.

And this I learned, too, from the doveTo die, and know no second love!"

BY I. W. BRYCE.

"THEY tell me, Kate," said Charles Calvert to his beautiful cousin, as they strolled through the flower garden at Oak Lawn, one bright morning in June they tell me that young Harry Layton is attentive to Myra Bell."

"Yes, and I certainly wish him success; for my sweet little Myra deserves a good match, and Harry is said, with more reason than is usual in such cases, to be the paragon of the neighborhood." "You surely do not think such a thing as their engagement possible?"

"And why not, cousin mine? Have you any previous claims to urge upon her heart?"

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By no means. But Myra is a girl, I imagine, who would marry only for love; and, alas! she has no heart to bestow."

"Oh, you allude to her affair with Rupert De Lancey?"

"To be sure I do."

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"I hold, fair cousin, that, in a sincere bosom, the affections, once blighted and crushed, are not so easily renewed. Nor would an honorable mind like Myra's exchange a broken heart for a loyal and true one."

"I deny your premises, to wit, that Myra's affections are blighted, or that her heart is broken." Why, surely she loved De Lancey?" "Yes; while she found him all that her fancy had painted."

"And would you have her love again, ere one brief year has thrown oblivion over her ill-fated passion? Is such the constancy of woman's heart?"

"Come, no slander upon woman's constancy, or I shall launch forth in full tide of invective against man's treachery. I mean that, because Myra found her idol of clay, it is no reason why the sentiment of devotion, which is one of the holiest instincts of our nature, should be destroyed forever in her breast."

"Then you believe in second love?"

"Your question is not altogether a fair one. I am certainly an advocate of constancy; and there is something very sacred to me even in the memory of a pure and holy affection, which has bright

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ened our happier days, and, long cherished, has entwined itself with our every sympathy, until it grew and became a part of us. The shrine of such a love, once erected in our heart of hearts, may well be dedicated to one only object."

"Then you would have success the criterion of constancy. Why, Kate, you would spoil the prettiest romances that were ever written or acted, by such a cold, calculating sentiment."

"And those same romances have spoiled the happiness of many an honest heart capable of blessing others, and enjoying itself the choicest blessings of life, in its appointed sphere of conjugal and domestic affections. Out upon that false sentiment which condemns a pure and noble heart, with its untold treasures of rich affections and sympathies, to pine in sickly dalliance with despair, because an error of judgment, or a freak of fancy, has sent its devotions to an unworthy object! Must a heart that was made for love wither, in its spring-time of freshness and bloom, from treachery or disappointment? Forbid it, every principle of rational happiness, of true and purified enjoyment!"

"But does not your doctrine, fair cousin, tend to Impair that faith in the constancy of love which gives it ideal charms, and elevates it into a worship?"

"On the contrary, it rather vindicates the sentiment as too pure and holy to suffer from treachery and deceit; of too divine and immaculate a nature to perish, when baffled, like baser passions."

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You argue well, Kate; but yet there is a charm in changeless love that still holds the imagination captive."

"And did I speak of true love as changeable, Charles? I only contended against the despotic rule of what I think a false sentiment. The constancy of mutual love is beautiful and holy in my eyes; and where our affections have met a full response in the sympathies of a congenial heart, and especially where we have been blessed with its long companionship, I hold a second love as great a sacrilege as yourself, though I will not deny that it may exist."

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Well, well, my sweet cousin, you and I will not quarrel about love; nor pretty Myra Bell either, for whom I wish a bright and happy fate. But see, John has brought the horses round. Shall we take our gallop as usual? I promise not to cast one wistful glance at Myra Bell's handsome cottage as we pass," said Charles, with a playful emphasis.

"Out upon you, Mr. Impudence!" replied his cousin, blushing slightly, and tapping him with her whip, for she was equipped for the ride. "What wonderful magic, think you, there lies in your glances?"

Leaving the cousins to their morning ride, and to renew their edifying discussion, if they pleased, we will look into as lovely a little cottage as was ever the abode of innocence, peace, and happiness.

In a neatly furnished apartment, from which, through the latticed casement, you might look out

on the prettiest imaginable little flower garden, were two persons. The one a man advanced in years, of mild, calm, and dignified appearance, whose broad, intellectual brow was unwrinkled, save by the lines of thought, and the lustre of whose dark eye was undimmed, though the snows of winter were fast covering his fine classic head. Adam Bell was a scholar, and somewhat of a dreamer, yet, withal, a very deep philosopher. The vanities of earth he despised, while he cherished, with assiduous care, those gentle sentiments, true feelings, and noble sympathies which minister to the peace and happiness of the heart far more surely than the false excitement of pleasure and ambition. In early life he had married happily, prospered in the world, and enjoyed those flattering promises of the future with which Fortune so often tempts us to essay the perilous "heights where Fame's proud temple lies;" but reverses and disappointments soon taught him their lesson. The loss of fortune, and the ill health of his beloved companion, induced him to retire, not a soured misanthrope, but a sobered philosopher, from the pomps and vanities of the world. Husbanding his remaining resources, he purchased the quiet cottage where he now resided, and where he had enjoyed years of supreme bliss with his adored wife, who faded gently and quietly from his side, like a cherished flower, exhaling the fragrance of her long and devoted love to surround him in the gentle affections of an only and most beautiful daughter.

In such a death there was no shock; and the sadness caused by his bereavement was so sweetly mingled with the hope of a reunion hereafter, as to rob his grief of half its poignancy. In Myra he beheld-each lineament and feature complete-the counterpart of her whose memory he adored; and, for his daughter, he was content to live on, that he might guard and shield her youth from care, and pluck, as far as might be, the thorns of disappointment and sorrow from her future pathway. And now, as he sat at the open casement, through which the fresh morning air came, apparently intent on his book, his eye wandered, ever and anon, from the bright flowers without to the brighter being within, who glided noiselessly about the room, occupied with her domestic affairs, and unconscious of the thoughtful attention which was bestowed upon her. It was not without uneasiness that Adam Bell noticed an air of preoccupation, and almost sadness, in his sweet daughter, and a keen pang shot through his heart as he heard the halfsmothered sigh which escaped her.

"Come here, Myra," said he, "and see how your favorite rose tree has revived from last night's shower."

Awakening from the rather unpleasant reverie which had been gradually stealing over her, with scarce an effort, Myra dispelled the shadows from her brow, and, her face beaming with affection placed herself on a low stool at her father's feet.

"Oh, how beautiful!" she exclaimed. "I did

not think my poor rose-bush would bloom again this summer."

→ Baght or bloom upon the flower, or the human heart, are His, who ever deals gently with the tenderest," said the old man, reverently.

"I feel it, my father," answered his daughter, gazing fondly in his face with tearful eyes, blue as the violet whose perfume they enjoyed.

And yet, Myra, you are sad. Are you sure there is no drop of bitterness left in that young heart to rankle hereafter?"

+ Quite sure, dear father; although some sadness is natural to the heart which finds its ideal destroyed. And yet I think no more of him.”

"Say not its ideal destroyed, but its idol a false one, my child. That mental standard of perfection which we set up as the model of all that is worthy and noble in human character, and which we call our ideal, is formed rather by our own sentiments and feelings than from any experience or example of human nature which is before us; yet it is the very foundation of all our respect or admiration for our fellow-beings, the key to love and friendship, and sad is the heart whose ideal is destroyed! But, my dear Myra," continued the fond parent, some. what more playfully, "if not of him-the base, the worthless of whom was my daughter thinking so pensively, almost sadly?"

There was perfect confidence between the father and daughter; yet the eyes of Myra drooped an instant, and the rich color suffused her face, such is the sensibility of a pure young heart to the exposure of its feelings, even to the eye of affection.

"Nay, I did not mean to startle or grieve you; but you cannot suppose, my own darling, that, in aught which touches your happiness, my eyes slumber. There, that blush has answered me; and I may give Harry Layton a favorable answer," said Adam Bell, bending to caress the beautiful head that rested on his lap.

At this moment the sound of horses' feet was heard in the avenue that led from the high road, and the bark of Myra's little spaniel, who was basking in the sunshine on the front verandah, announced early visitors.

"Come, my love, there is your friend Kate. I saw her pass, in company with her cousin, half an hour since, and doubtless she is coming to pay you a morning call. Hie to your chamber, and smooth down those troubled thoughts, while I receive them."

It was, indeed, Kate and Charles, the former having remembered, during their ride, that she had not yet invited Myra to a fête which was to be given the next week on the occasion of her birthday. She therefore insisted upon her cousin accompanying ber, "even at the risk," she said, in playful badinage, “of exposing poor little Myra to the dangerous glances of such a wonderful lady-killer."

They were received with a dignified courtesy and kind welcome by Adam Bell, which Charles afterwards declared to exhibit the most distinguished'

demeanor he ever met with; and, in a few minutes, Myra appeared, blooming as one of her own beautiful roses, to greet her friend, and to receive Charles, without the slightest embarrassment.

The invitation was given, and, after a glance at her father, who signified his approval, accepted by Myra; and, after spending an hour very pleasantly, the cousins took their departure.

In the evening Harry Layton came, conferred a few moments with Adam Bell in his library, and then, in company with him, joined Myra in the parlor the happiest of men. The old man, with his book, soon drew off to his corner, and left the young lovers to that elysium which they, who have once felt it, know beggars all description.

CHAPTER II.

RUPERT DE LANCEY was a young man of good birth, ample fortune, and considerable intellect. Though proud and ambitious, he possessed courteous and affable manners, which won him more regard than his character really deserved, and made him, where no occasion forced the display of his real nature, a universal favorite. His person was even more attractive than his demeanor, for he possessed the highest order of masculine beauty. A broad and prominent forehead, somewhat narrower, however, at the temples than was consistent with perfect symmetry, around which curled, in short, natural ringlets, his rich and glossy brown hair; dark blue eyes, of sparkling brilliancy, in which only the practiced regard of a physiognomist could have detected the wavering, vacillating glance which denoted fickleness of purpose; a mouth indicative of firmness, as well as great sensibility, but the character of which also expressed great voluptuousness, especially in connection with his rather fleshy and projecting chin; and a nose slightly aquiline, with finely-curved nostrils, made up a face unusually prepossessing. De Lancey had been educated with high sentiments of honor, and would have reprobated deceit and treachery as soon as any one; but, with many a great and noble quality, he was beset with the weaknesses of pride and vanity, and their almost inseparable concomitant, changeableness of purpose; for, where they demand a sacrifice, strong must be the mind, and firm the heart, which refuses it.

Such was he who won the first regards of Myra Bell. Upon the guileless nature of her father, who, with all his experience, could never learn suspicion, the frank, free manners, and pleasing exterior of the youth had carly made an impression, which paved the way to unrestrained social intercourse, and thus gave him the opportunity of enjoying much of Myra's society. It was not vanity alone which made Rupert her admirer, or induced him to seek her heart, no one, with a touch of gentle feeling at his heart, could have witnessed unmoved her ex

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