sombre restraint, its quiet congruities of black and white and grey,
supremely apt a medium for the expression of modern emotion and modern
thought? That aptness, even alone, would explain its triumph. Let us
be glad that we have so easy, yet so delicate, a mode of expression.

Yes! costume, dandiacal or not, is in the highest degree expressive,
nor is there any type it may not express. It enables us to classify
any `professional man' at a glance, be he lawyer, leech or what not.
Still more swift and obvious is its revelation of the work and the
soul of those who dress, whether naturally or for effect, without
reference to convention. The bowler of Mr. Jerome K. Jerome is a
perfect preface to all his works. The silk hat of Mr. Whistler is a
real nocturne, his linen a symphony en blanc majeur. To have seen Mr.
Hall Caine is to have read his soul. His flowing, formless cloak is as
one of his own novels, twenty-five editions latent in the folds of it.
Melodrama crouches upon the brim of his sombrero. His tie is a
Publisher's Announcement. His boots are Copyright. In his hand he
holds the staff of The Family Herald.

But the dandy, innowise violating the laws of fashion, can make more
subtle symbols of his personality. More subtle these symbols are for
the very reason that they are effected within the restrictions which
are essential to an art. Chastened of all flamboyance, they are from
most men occult, obvious, it may be, only to other artists or even
only to him they symbolise. Nor will the dandy express merely a crude
idea of his personality, as does, for example, Mr. Hall Caine,
dressing himself always and exactly after one pattern. Every day as
his mood has changed since his last toilet, he will vary the colour,
texture, form of his costume. Fashion does not rob him of free will.
It leaves him liberty of all expression. Every day there is not one