quantities in proportion would be absorbed in gold, and silver plate, watches, trinket &c. The floating capital of the nation would not be increased so much as many may suppose.

Thus money is become the general medium of traffic, and has superseded the necessity of exchanging one commodity for another. The increase of population, and the concomitant increase of money, has, in an equal ratio, tended to the increase of commerce, and by the greater, or lesser gains, men are relatively split, as Providence intended, into the many grades of society, and the more wealthy the grade, of course the greater is the power to possess not merely the necessities, but the luxuries, of life; to dress"in purple, and fine linen, and to fare sumptuously every day."

The classes of society thus established, whilst the lowest grade has been, mayhap per force, contented to remain stationary at the bottom, every other intermediate grade, between that and the highest rank, prompted by the vanity, and ambition, natural to man, have sedulously endeavoured to raise themselves a step higher on the ladder of society, and to imitate the class above them. The great dramatist, Shakspeare, makes Hamlet say, "the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his. kibe." Shakspeare has, however, forcibly, perhaps not too forcibly, brought into contact the highest, and the lowest of society, but yet he does this to illustrate rather the universality, and the insatiable cravings, of ambition, and it will be hyper-criticism to find fault with him.

He merely means to say, that ambition knows no bounds, that it impudently, and restlessly, seeks the most distant ends; that, thus acting, the peasant, in successful progress, may gall the kibe of the courtier. I admit this insatiable course of ambition, but its advance is more gradual, each class seeks to overtake the one preceding it, and pressing onwards, man thus treads on the heel of man, and-"galls his kibe." The one class seeks to array itself in the dress, and the fashions of the superior class, and this-impatient of imitation-jealous of equality -shifts the fashions of the day, and thus endeavours to lead an endless chase, rather than to be socially accompanied. The Philosopher will laugh at this-the Christian will despise it -yet, gentle reader, I have-told the truth. Here is, in the present day, the primum mobile of fashion. I shall be answered, that I am in error, that the changeful fashion has originated in fickleness. I admit, that in the days of yore, this may have been the case, but it has now only a partial operation. It may then have had a principal share in the change of fashion, and this disposition has met with an admirable rebuke from a satirist in the reign of Henry, the Eighth, the facetious Andrew Borde, who, I believe, imparted the title of Merry Andrew to the witty attendant on the itinerant mountebank, a character now, alas! of the by-gone times. This satire was "a print of a naked Englishman holding a piece of cloth hanging on his right arm, and a pair of sheers in his left

hand. The print bears the following inscrip

tion :

"I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here,

Musing in my mind what rayment I shall were;
For now I will were this, and now I will were that,
And now I will were, what I cannot tell what."

The satire was as just, as it was severe. I much regret, that we have, with respect to fashion, suffered ourselves to be guided by our Gallic Neighbours, and that we regard it as necessary to import from Paris the reigning fashions, even if they be follies of the day. Oh! that it were possible, instead of degradingly permitting ourselves to be led by the fickle taste of the foreigner, that the fashions might be periodically, and, for a more lengthened term, fixed by the better, and more tasteful, judgment of committees of the different sexes of our own nation-of the leaders of the Ton, and that the various grades of society might in peace adopt the reigning modes. Pshaw! What signifies the mere imitative dress? The real Lady and Gentleman, polished by the attrition of the courtly, and best-mannered, circles, will ever shine in prominent view, for

Manners maketh Man

Quoth William of Wykham.”

Dress may be imitated, and with success, but not so the manners, the movements, and the every gesture, imparted by the influence of education, and of refined society, to the real Lady, and Gentleman.

"There is (saith Solomon) nothing new under the sun," and thus it seems with the fashion. The revolution of its wheel-but, ye Heavens! forfend that day!-may again bring up the hoop petticoat of the last century, with its spacious orb, to o'erspread this nether world. "The Weekly Journal" of 1717, contains some humorous remarks on that most absurd of all fashions, the use of which long survived the force of ridicule, or else was re-adopted, as in a curious engraving of Wilton House (now before me) of the date of 1759, the ladies are swimming o'er the lawn arrayed in these tasteless appendages. Hear, ye "faire Ladyes," the censures of the "Weekly Journal," and-avoid them. "I believe," saith that Journal, it would puzzle the quickest invention to find out one tolerable conveniency in those machines. I appeal to the sincerity of the ladies, whether they are not a great incumbrance upon all occasions (vanity apart) both at home and abroad. What skill and management is required to reduce one of these circles within the limits of a chair, or to find space for two in a chariot; and what precautions must a modest female take even to enter at the doors of a private family without obstruction! Then a vivacious damsel cannot turn herself round in a room a little inconsiderately without oversetting every thing like a whirlwind, stands, and tea-tables, flowerpots, China-jars and basins innumerable, perish daily by this spreading mischief, which, like a Comet, spares nothing that comes within its sweep. Neither is this fashion more ornamental

than convenient. Nothing can be imagined more unnatural, and consequently less agreeable. When a slender Virgin stands upon a basis so exorbitantly wide, she resembles a funnel, a figure of no great elegancy; and I have seen many fine ladies of a low stature, who, when they sail in their hoops about an apartment, look like children in Go-carts.'

The revolution of the wheel of fashion, I repeat, may again bring up the lofty head-dress of the year 1777, when, if any reliance is to be placed on the engravings of the day, the friseur was obliged to ascend a pair of steps to place in order the aspiring toupee. Have I not cause of apprehension, that these (to be deplored) events may again arise, when I reflect, that the present fashions of the bishop, and the gigot, sleeve, are but the revival of those in the times of our seventh Henry? And here, gentle reader, I cannot but remonstrate "ryghte humblie wythe the Ladyes faire" on the behalf, not of myself, believe me, but of my fellow-men:

"Oft it has been my lot to mark

A proud conceited talking spark,'

seated "atween two Ladyes faire," at the table of hospitality, and attired in snow-white vests, or in the bishop, or in the gigot, sleeve. I have seen him with arms close pinioned to his sides. I have seen him writhing in his happy-yet unhappy-situation, using every endeavour to make himself-small; trembling, lest, by dis

* Merrick's Camelion.