
KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 
129 

NOTES UPON NOTES. 
FASHION—TASTE—HABIT. 

Thanks to the human heart by which we live, 
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ! 
To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
THoucut7s that do often lie too deep for tears. 
WorDSWORTH. 

» ERE IT NOT FOR THE 
REGION OF THOUGHT, in 
which the mind can revel 
undisturbed by the ex- 
ternal hubbub of the 
world at large, what an 
existence would ours be! 
The elements of which 
society is composed, are quite insufficient, of 
themselves, to render a man “happy ”—and 
what is life without happiness? OUR 
thoughts, be it known, fly far and wide ; and 
in their wanderings they gather sweetness. 
We are not going to venture an essay on 
Thought, much as we could say on that most 
interesting subject. Our business to-day is, 
to offer a few remarks on sundry letters we 
have received of late, bearing upon certain 
observations our pen has volunteered pro 
bono publico. And here let us express our- 
self not only pleased, but delighted, with the 
confidence almost invariably reposed in us 
by our numerous correspondents. ‘Their 
names and addresses are rarely withholden ; 
and their simple narratives induce to a train of 
thoughtfulness in our aetive mind which is 
perfectly indescribable. There is surely 
much latent good in the world, if one could 
only draw it out. The great drawback to 
this is, the fear people express of daring to 
be singular. They tell us their feelings, and 
acknowledge their weakness in this matter. 
The article which appeared in a late 
number on the perverse taste of women in 
their mode of dress, and blind obedience to 
the cruel laws of Fashion—also the paper in 
our last number deploring the horrid custom 
of plastering a pretty face with such over- 
whelming bands of hair, have excited marked 
attention. Some may imagine that we have 
given serious offence by our freedom of speech. 
Not so! We always write good-temperedly, 
and will not let people be angry with us. 
We cut at their faults, not at their persons. 
We hate the former; we love the latter. 
Among the letters received during the past 
month, are several which demand serious 
attention. ‘They are from ladies moving in 
a high position of life. Our remarks have 
worked upon the better feelings of their 
(natural) “good” nature, and they have made 
us their father-confessor. We are quite 
satisfied, that not one of the individuals we 
allude to is im the secret of any but them- 
selves having written us on the subject. Yet 
are our “ confessional duties” pleasingly 
heavy. 


Vou. IV.—9. 

Let us select a single missive, and com- 
ment on it. As it harmonises in its views 
and feelings with the others already referred 
to, it will answer a good general end. ‘The 
fair writer (who resides in one of our most 
fashionable squares) says—‘I cannot, my 
dear sir, argue against or disprove one word 
you have uttered. That you write for our 
benefit and instruction, I freely admit. That 
you are entitled to our lasting regard, is 
speaking but faintly how I feel towards you, 
and your noble periedical. But let me tell 
you, that we young ladies cannot, dare not, 
use any discretion in the matter of taste. 
Whatsoever be the ‘fashion,’ with that we 
are bound to comply, or we ‘ lose caste’ (as 
mamma words it). Whether as regards our 
general apparel, our bonnets, our head. dress, 
or what you, call ‘the insult offered to the 
human face divine,’ by converting our 
ornamental hair into ‘blinkers,’ &c., &c., 
our lot is cast. We are the creatures of 
habit. We must submit to the rules of the 
society in which we move. Yet, entre nous, 
I do indeed enjoy the perusal of OUR OWN 
JOURNAL, I love its principles; and in all 
sincerity, I may and will add, I love its 
Editor. Keep on, my dear sir; raise your 
pen, make your voice heard, and do see if 
anything can be done to deliver us from the 
hideous trammels of the god we are com- 
pelled (many of us wnwillingly) to worship.” 
We are proud of the missive from which 
we have made the above short extract ; and 
we could append others from a second fair 
hand, but it is quite needless. We never 
can hope—nor do we, to work a reformation 
among the veterans in Fashion’s service; but 
we feel for the younger branches, and we 
will, D.V., labor for them with unwearied 
assiduity. We will prove that Nature is a 
sweet, lovely mistress—her yoke easy—her 
burthen (gossamer) light indeed ! 
We have also in possession some very 
interesting letters in connection with our late 
remarks about Habit. We mean, the few ad- 
denda we made in our last to the article by 
Dr. Symonds. Our readers enter, readily, 
into the appreciation of those various cha- 
racteristics which so individualise many of 
the friends and acquaintance with whom 
they are associated from time to time. It is 
a pretty subject; and at a future time we 
may be in the vein to pursue it in some of 
its most pleasing features. 
A very intimate friend of ours, who 
perused the remarks we have referred to, has 
told us some of the scenes in hs early life 
that will infallibly set us thinking of the 
scenes in our early life, and the ever-to-be- 
remembered habits of ‘‘some”’ who at that 
time were dearer far to us than our own 
existence—indeed we only “ lived”’ when we 
heard their footstep, breathed when we heard 
K 
