grandmothers have done before them.

In teaching a young lady to dress elegantly we must first impress upon
her mind that symmetry of figure ought ever to be accompanied by
harmony of dress, and that there is a certain propriety in habiliment,
adapted to form, complexion, and age. To preserve the health of the
human form is the first object of consideration, for without that you
can neither maintain its symmetry nor improve its beauty. But the
foundation of a just proportion must be laid in infancy. "As the twig
is bent the tree's inclined." A light dress, which gives freedom to
the functions of life, is indispensable to an unobstructed growth. If
the young fibres are uninterrupted by obstacles of art, they will
shoot harmoniously into the form which nature drew. The garb of
childhood should in all respects be easy--not to impede its movements
by ligatures on the chest, the loins, the legs, or the arms. By this
liberty we shall see the muscles of the limbs gradually assume the
fine swell and insertion which only unconstrained exercise can
produce. The chest will sway gracefully on the firmly poised waist,
swelling in noble and healthy expanse, and the whole figure will start
forward at the blooming age of youth, and early ripen to the maturity
of beauty.

The lovely form of women, thus educated, or rather thus left to its
natural growth, assumes a variety of charming characters. In one
youthful figure, we see the lineaments of a wood nymph, a form slight
and elastic in all its parts. The shape:

"Small by degrees, and beautifully less,
From the soft bosom to the slender waist!"

A foot as light as that of her whose flying step scarcely brushed the
"unbending corn," and limbs whose agile grace moved in harmony with
the curves of her swan-like neck, and the beams of her sparkling eyes.

To repair these ravages, comes the aid of padding to give shape where
there is none, stays to compress into form the swelling chaos of
flesh, and paints of all hues to rectify the dingy complexion; but
useless are these attempts--for, if dissipation, late hours,
immoderation, and carelessness have wrecked the loveliness of female
charms, it is not in the power of Esculapius himself to refit the
shattered bark, or of the Syrens, with all their songs and wiles, to
save its battered sides from the rocks, and make it ride the sea in
gallant trim again. The fair lady who cannot so moderate her pursuit
of pleasure that the feast, t