Rossetti and the Pre-Raphaelites were of that kind. Walt Whitman lacked the princely qualities, the blue blood of prestige that would work the magic charm, but he was valiant for all that. And there have been others who have not lacked in bravery. Now, it is just that hardihood that Nordau derides. Let him creak and carp, let others erect their idols and worship thereat. Even fetiches have their use. The world wags on, however, and the line is forming anew. We will be happy yet. It is a Gargantuan task to get at the heart of this multiple age. He will be a Titan who does it. Form antedates concept. Thus far have we journeyed on this way of ours—the leaven of concept and of form both have broken out in patches here and there. Let someone arise who can master both. Then— E. R. W. THE LAUGHTER OF THE GODS. The laughter of the Gods is clear And sweet to those who do not know How, underneath its limpid flow, Lurk envy, hatred, hope and fear. ROWLAND B. MAHANY. FASHION IN LETTERS AND THINGS. Periodicity exists throughout all nature. Day and night, winter and summer, equinox and solstice; years of plenty and years of famine, commerce active and business depressed; volcanoes in state of eruption, then at rest; comets return, eclipses come back, the striae of one glacial period are deepened by those of another, and the leg o’ mutton sleeves that our grandmammas wore in the thirties are again upon us. When the hounds start game in the mountains, the hunter knowing that the deer moves in a circle, stands still on the run-way, biding his time. So no one need wail and strike his breast if his raiment is out of style: all such should be consoled by the fact that the fashion is surely coming back. Mode in dress is only an outcrop of a general law. Why does fashion change? Because it is the fashion. The followers of fashion—that is to say, civilized men and women—are not content with being all alike. Esquimaux and Hottentots never vary their styles. But people in the temperate zones are intemperate and desire to excel—to be different from others—distinctive, peculiar, individual. Very seldom is any one strong enough to stand alone, so in certain social circles, by common consent, all overcoats are cut one length—say, to come just above the knee. Then this overcoat is gradually lowered: to the knee, just below the knee, to the ankle—until it conceals the feet. Then an enormous collar is added, which when turned up and viewed from behind completely hides the man. But this thing cannot last; it is not many days before the same men are wearing overcoats so short that the wearers look like matadors ready for the fray.