its close resemblance to the garments worn by salaried retainers tends to degrade all who bear it. Neither has it the advantage of a livery, or its variety, liveries being of all hues, and founded upon the laws of heraldic colouring; whilst as to style and fit, regard to that, is rather the exception than the rule, the dress being often hired of costumiers,

or of west-end tailors. I well knew two Scotch gentlemen who shared a suit, which used to accommodate a tall, bony, broadbacked though distinguished advocate, and a spare, well-known literary baronet.

Of my designs, Fig. 1 exhibits the court costume as it is, Fig. 2 somewhat as it might be made-in lieu of the tawdry and degenerate habiliments that give a "spotty" and "littery" appearance to an assembly, ill-according with uniform, and particularly with the reds and blues of the army and navy, to which it ought to act as foil. I would not discard its best features, or eighteenth-century character, but reform the whole, reducing it to a black-making the garment such as any gentleman might wear with dignity and grace; a modest uniform, if I may so call it, in either cloth or velvet,-or both at discretion, -with silver or covered buttons, the sword being worn through a slit

or pocket-hole, a method mostly adopted in civil costumes on the continent; the knee-breeches always ending in black silk stockings, that have the effect of making unshapely legs less conspicuous, and

greatly enhancing well-formed figures. Black would do away with the livery look; the shoes should be shapely, with tongues, heels, and buckles as shown in my diagram, No. 1. Black could be made de rigueur; whilst in times of mourning, in lieu of a white tie and variegated waistcoat, the vest should be black; this with a sable crape tie, lace ends, and black gloves, will give all the respect desired.

No.2

Channing was said to have appeared to great advantage in his court dress of black velveta costume to make men feel confident and digne -garments that could be borne, even by Americans, without a sense of shame, being the same as those worn by Franklin and Washington, and in which the General is represented in the fine portrait, by Stuart, now hanging in the Capitol of the United States. This grand full-length, (the original of which from life, I believe, is in the Boston Athenæum), without an atom of

the "flunkey" in it, has often been engraved, and should be framed, glazed, and suspended in our Chamberlain's Office as a model, not alone for refractory American plenipotentiaries, but for all gentlemen who pay respect to the Sovereign at the Court of St. James's.

As Englishmen, we have often had to blush for the ridiculous appearance of our court dress abroad-the wearers sometimes being taken for their valets, whilst the laquais not unfrequently received the homage due to their masters.

As a rule British ladies and gentlemen are blessed with better figures than many foreigners; yet, as a nation, we do not dress well. The French are apt to overdress, and fit to a fault, whilst the English appear slovenly and-out of their native isle-as if their clothes were tossed on with a pitchfork. Many of our uniforms are puzzles at home; abroad they are enigmas, the greatest, perhaps, being the Deputy-Lieutenant in his red coat and cocked hat with white plume, for all the world like a general officer, only the epaulettes and facings are of silver, a metal that none but a Briton would ever think of placing upon scarlet.

As leg coverings, knee-breeches are admirable upon a fine form, though, perhaps, pantaloons are the severest test of all, trousers only being worthy of ill-made limbs, ending in bluchers and highlows; yet I believe trousers are strictly military, having been first used in Prussia by soldiers. Knee-breeches and boots are the attributes of a brave belted race; pantaloons and hessians of a more refined; and knickerbockers of a thoroughly practical people. In walking, trousers draw up the mud, and in riding catch the splashes. Seeing once some French police parading the streets in what appeared to be spurs, I demanded if they were "mounted;" and upon being asked, why, I pointed to the heels, in which were simply inserted "clous," or bits of wire, to keep up the trousers, which they did admirably, an invention I thought worthy of imitation in our own dirtier metropolis.

PARIS, 1868.

Our court costume reformed, we could, perhaps, do something with the evening dress, to distinguish guests from waiters. France, though she sets the fashion, is less a slave to the frac, and cravate blanche than ourselves, who hold it a rule at dinner, the opera, concerts, and theatres. They, however, make it de rigueur at weddings, overtures, and some morning ceremonies at which we discard it. At present, in Paris, it is fashionable to affect a sort of bashfulness, and wear waistcoats d'un bouton. The time is remarkable "pour la résurrection

du mollet plongé dans l'oubli depuis le règne de Louis XV.-Hausse générale sur le coton,"-faultless linen at a premium; but however spotless, defend us from such a display at court, flower-show, or morning concert.

But we must make our bow, and this brings us to hats; things that should look better on the head than off, which is not the case with No. 2, the "Portfolio," or No. 3, below, the

No

error.

Gibus," a diabolical invention that has given more Englishmen rhumes in their upper storey than enough, its calico walls being quite unsuited to our climate, except perhaps for three months, (July, Aug., Sept.) when there is no reason or use for it. The construction of hats to fold and collapse, at least of hard materials, is an As to the cocked or court hat, it should be made in form as in No. 1, which is good and well known, though my diagram has not the cock, that in some specimens make a sort of W of it, giving a very wakeful appearance to the wearer. Last year the Parisians gave the world square-toed boots, whilst they took a lesson from us, cutting down their stove-pipe hats; reducing a frightful model we never adopted. With a little diagram showing the popular head-covering in three forms we conclude, leaving the much-maligned "chimney-pot" that encases the wisdom of England to stand or fall. It has many merits and many defects. In its best form it is not bad, whilst in its worst it is not good. As a sanitary covering for the head it is useful; the chamber of air having warded many a blow, and broken many a fall in the hunting-field

BAS.

ELECANCE

AFFREUX. MECHANIQUE.

1.

2.

3.

LUKE LIMNER, F.S.A.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

A STABLE FRAGMENT.

T is nearly twenty years since these few words in the Times— "Lord George Bentinck was found dead in a flood meadow last night, and carried home to Welbeck in a drag”—sounded almost too strange and sad for belief. During the previous week he had driven over, day after day, from Welbeck to Doncaster, and walked, as was his wont, to be out of the bustle, through the Turf Tavern paddocks, and past Carr House to the Stand. It was "Surplice's year," and not merely remarkable for the second solution of the Champion problem in turf "geometry of two dimensions." The Flying Dutchman had won five races, and had only once been made to gallop, by Escalade at Liverpool; Voltigeur had been sent back by Mr. Tattersall from the front of the "Salutation" without a single bid; Teddington, perhaps the finest union of speed, staying, and weightcarrying that the century has seen, was at Miss Twickenham's foot; and Pocahontas, the modern Prunella, was in foal to The Baron with a rival to Touchstone at last. Lord George had walked down that lane light-hearted enough in old days, but there was a crook in his lot now. Twelve years before, he had "taken charge" of Elis for the St. Leger, tried him at Goodwood, vanned him North with six horses, to the abiding astonishment of 250 miles of gazers, and beaten Scroggins and Beeswing. Since then his Grey Momus had "made only one mistake, and that was not winning the Derby ;" and his flying Crucifix had swept off the Two Thousand, One Thousand, and Oaks, before her "leg filled." Those memories, however, brought no pleasure. Five-and-forty is said to be the age of fruition, when the harvest of a man's energies begins. It might be so for others, but it was not so for him. Secure in Mr. Disraeli's fealty, he had burnt his bridge of boats in the Commons, and dashed himself headlong against Peel, Russell, and Cobden, only to suffer defeat after defeat, in a fierce but unequal strife. He had been the "Napoleon of the turf," and he had laid aside his starting flag and his betting book, and abdicated to fight for what proved a political shadow. Pale and heartworn with such bootless toil, he once more stood on Doncaster Moor to watch "that grey-heeled foal"-the son of VOL. I., N. S. 1868.

F