in the
beginning of Charles the second, in an amazing variety, attended with
all their beauties and their graces. The first in pre-eminence is
The BUTTON.
This beautiful ornament appears with infinite variation; and though the
original date is rather uncertain, yet we well remember the long coats
of our grandfathers covered with half a gross of high-tops, and the
cloaks of our grandmothers, ornamented with a horn button nearly the
size of a crown piece, a watch, or a John apple, curiously wrought, as
having passed through the Birmingham press.
Though the common round button keeps on with the steady pace of the day,
yet we sometimes see the oval, the square, the pea, and the pyramid,
flash into existence. In some branches of traffic the wearer calls
loudly for new fashions; but in this, the fashions tread upon each
other, and crowd upon the wearer. The consumption of this article is
astonishing. There seem to be hidden treasures couched within this magic
circle, known only to a few, who extract prodigious fortunes out of
this useful toy, whilst a far greater number, submit to a statute of
bankruptcy.
Trade, like a restive horse, can rarely be managed; for, where one is
carried to the end of a successful journey, many are thrown off by the
way. The next that calls our attention is
The BUCKLE.
Perhaps the shoe, in one form or other, is nearly as ancient as the
foot. It originally appeared under the name of, sandal; this was no
other than a sole without an upper-leather. That fashion hath since been
inverted, and we now, sometimes, see an upper-leather nearly without a
sole. But, whatever was the cut of the shoe, it always demanded a
fastening. Under the house of Plantagenet, it shot horizontally from the
foot, like a Dutch scait, to an enormous length, so that the extremity
was fattened to the knee, sometimes, with a silver chain, a silk lace,
or even a pack-thread string, rather than avoid _genteel taste_.
This thriving beak, drew the attention of the legislature, who were
determined to prune the exorbitant shoot. For in 1465 we find an order
of council, prohibiting the growth of the shoe toe, to more than two
inches, under the penalty of a dreadful curse from the priest, and,
which was worse, the payment of twenty shillings to the king.
This fashion, like every other, gave way to time, and in its stead, the
rose began to bud upon the foot. Which under the house of Tudor, opened
in great perfect
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