the most extensive shipbuilders at Scio, and I was bred to the business from my youth. We were rich, we were prosperous, until we were ruined by the Turkish atrocities at Scio. I arrived in Marseilles, alone, beggared, my father murdered, my wife and children in captivity. How I lived, you all know. While the first two frigates were being built, I watched every stage of their construction. I detected several points of detail which I felt certain would prevent their being successfully launched. When, however, I had entered into my contract with this noble Effendi, I conferred with the shipwrights; I pointed out to them what was wrong; I convinced them, by argument and illustration, of what was necessary to be done. They did it. They altered, they improved. Behold, the ships are launched, and the evil eye had no more to do with the matter than the amber mouthpiece of his excellency the Effendi's chibouque! I have spoken." The Effendi, it is said, looked rather foolish at the conclusion of this explanation, and waddled away, muttering that all Greeks were thieves. Demetrius, however, kept his piastres, gave up diving as a means of livelihood, and, commencing business on his own account as a boat-builder, prospered exceedingly with Katinka his wife, and Andon, Yorghi, and Eudocia, his children. As to the two frigates, they were equipped for sea in good time, and were, I believe, knocked to pieces by the allied fleets at the battle of Navarino. [From "The Vicar of Wakefield." By OLIVER GOLDSMITH.] HEN we returned home, the night was dedicated to schemes of future conquest. Even in bed my wife kept up the usual theme. "Well, faith, my dear Charles, between ourselves, I think we have made an excellent day's work of it." "Pretty well," cried I, not knowing what to say. 66 'What, only pretty well!" returned she; "I think it is very well. Suppose the girls should come to make acquaintances of taste in town. This I am assured of, that London is the only place in the world for all manner of husbands. Besides, my dear, stranger things happen every day; and as ladies of quality are so taken with my daughters, what will not men of quality be? Entre nous, I protest I like my Lady Blarney vastly; so very obliging. However, Miss Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs has my warm heart. But yet, when they came to talk of places in town, you saw at once how I nailed them. Tell me, my dear, don't you think I did for my children there?" "Ay," returned I, not knowing well what to think of the matter; "Heaven grant they may be both the better for it this day three months!" This was one of those observations I usually made to impress my wife with an opinion of my sagacity; for if the girls succeeded, then it was a pious wish fulfilled; but if anything unfortunate ensued, then it might be looked upon as a prophecy. All this conversation, however, was only preparatory to another scheme, and, indeed, I dreaded as much. This was nothing less than that, as we were now to hold up our heads a little higher in the world, it would be proper to sell the colt, which was grown old, at the neighbouring fair, and buy us a horse which would carry single or double upon an occasion, and make a pretty appearance at church or upon a visit. This at first I opposed stoutly, but it was as stoutly defended. However, as I weakened, my antagonist gained strength, till at last it was resolved to part with him. As the fair happened on the following day, I had intentions of going myself; but my wife persuaded me that I had got a cold, and nothing could prevail upon her to permit me from home. "No, my dear," said she, "our son Moses is a discreet boy, and can buy and sell to very good advantage; you know all our great bargains are of his purchasing. He always stands out and higgles, and actually tires them till he gets a bargain." As I had some opinion of my son's prudence, I was willing enough to entrust him with this commission; and the next morning I perceived his sisters mighty busy in fitting out Moses for the fair; trimming his hair, brushing his buckles, and cocking his hat with pins. The business of the toilet being over, we had, at last, the satisfaction of seeing him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before him to bring home groceries in. He had on a coat of that cloth called thunder and lightning, which, though grown too short, was much too good to be thrown away. His waistcoat was of gosling green, and his sisters had tied his hair with a broad black ribbon. We all followed him several paces from the door, bawling after him, "Good luck! good luck!" till we could see him no longer. He had scarcely gone when Mr. Thornhill's you. I'll tell you a good story about that, that butler came to congratulate us upon our good fortune, saying that he overheard his young master mention our names with great commendation. Good fortune seemed resolved not to come alone. Another footman from the same family followed, with a card for my daughters, importing that the two ladies had received such pleasing accounts from Mr. Thornhill of us all, that, after a few previous inquiries, they hoped to be perfectly satisfied. "Ay," cried my wife, "I now see it is no easy matter to get into one of the families of the great; but when once one gets in, then, as Moses says, one may go to sleep." To this piece of humour, for she intended it for wit, my daughters assented with a loud laugh of pleasure. In short, such was her satisfaction at this message, that she actually put her hand in her pocket, and gave the messenger sevenpence halfpenny. This was to be our visiting day. The next that came was Mr. Burchell, who had been at the fair. He brought my little ones a pennyworth of gingerbread each, which my wife undertook to keep for them, and give them by little at a time. He brought my daughters also a couple of boxes, in which they might keep wafers, snuff, patches, or even money, when they got it. My wife was usually fond of a weasel-skin purse, as being the most lucky; but this by-the-bye. We had still a regard for Mr. Burchell, though his late rude behaviour was in some measure displeasing; nor could we now avoid communicating our happiness to him, and asking his advice; although we seldom follow advice, we were all ready enough to ask it. When he read the note from the two ladies he shook his head, and observed that an affair of this sort demanded the utmost circumspection. This air of diffidence highly displeased my wife. "I never doubted, sir," cried she, your readiness to be against my daughters and me. You have more circumspection than is wanted. However, I fancy when we come to ask advice, we shall apply to persons who have made use of it themselves." "Whatever my own conduct may have been, madam," replied he, "is not the present question; though as I have made no use of advice myself, I should in conscience give it to those that will.” As I was apprehensive this answer might draw on a repartee, making up by abuse what is wanted in wit, I changed the subject by seeming to wonder what could keep our son so long at the fair, as it was now almost nightfall. will make you split your sides with laughing. But, as I live, yonder comes Moses, without a horse, and the box at his back." As she spoke, Moses came slowly on foot, and sweating under the deal box, which he had strapped round his shoulders like a pedlar. "Welcome! welcome, Moses! Well, my boy, what have you brought us from the fair?" "I have brought you myself," cried Moses, with a sly look, and resting the box on the dresser. "Ah, Moses," cried my wife," that we know; but where is the horse?" "I have sold him," cried Moses, "for three pounds five shillings and twopence." "Well done, my good boy," returned she; “I knew you would touch them off. Between ourselves, three pounds five shillings and twopence is no bad day's work. Come, let us have it, then.” "I have brought back no money," cried Moses again; "I have laid it all out in a bargain, and here it is," pulling out a bundle from his breast; "here they are; a gross of green spectacles, with silver rims and shagreen cases. "A gross of green spectacles!" repeated my wife in a faint voice. "And you have parted with the colt, and brought us back nothing but a gross of green paltry spectacles!" "Dear mother," cried the boy, "why won't you listen to reason? I had them a dead bargain, or I should not have bought them. The silver rims alone will sell for double the money." "A fig for the silver rims!" cried my wife, in a passion. "I dare swear they won't sell for above half the money at the rate of broken silver, five shillings an ounce." "You need be under no uneasiness," cried I, "about selling the rims, for they are not worth sixpence, for I perceive they are only copper varnished over." "What!" cried my wife, "not silver! the rims not silver ! " "No," cried I, saucepan." no more silver than your "And so," returned she, "we have parted with the colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with copper rims and shagreen cases! A murrain take such trumpery. The blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company better!" "There, my dear," cried I, "you are wrong; he should not have known them at all." "Marry, hang the idiot!" returned she, "to bring me such stuff. If I had them, I would throw them in the fire." "Never mind our son," cried my wife; "depend There again you are wrong, my dear,” cried I; upon it he knows what he is about. I'll warrant "for though they be copper, we will keep them by we'll never see him sell his hen on a rainy day. I us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than have seen him buy such bargains as would amaze | nothing." another man, very well dressed, who desired to borrow twenty pounds upon these, saying that he wanted money, and would dispose of them for a third of their value. The first gentleman, who pretended to be my friend, whispered me to buy them, and cautioned me not to let so good an offer pass. I sent for Mr. Flamborough, and they talked him up as finely as they did me; and so at last we were persuaded to buy the two gross between us." Our family had now made several attempts to be fine; but some unforeseen disaster demolished each as soon as projected. I endeavoured to take advantageous to the weaker side; the rich having the pleasure, the poor the inconveniences, that result from them. But come, Dick, my boy, and repeat the fable you were reading to-day, for the good of the company." "Once upon a time," cried the child, "a giant and a dwarf were friends, and kept together. They made a bargain that they would never forsake each other, but go seek adventures. The first battle they fought was with two Saracens; and the dwarf, who was very courageous, dealt one of the champions a most angry blow. It did the Saracen but very little injury, who, lifting up his sword, fairly struck off the poor dwarf's arm. He was now in a woful plight; but the giant coming to his assistance, in a short time left the two Saracens dead on the plain, and the dwarf cut off the dead man's head out of spite. They then travelled on to another adventure. This was against three bloody-minded satyrs, who were carrying away a damsel in distress. The dwarf was not quite so fierce now as before, but for all that struck the first blow, which was returned by another that knocked out his eye; but the giant was soon up with them, and had they not fled, would certainly have killed every one. They were all very joyful for this victory, and the damsel who was relieved fell in love with the giant and married him. They now travelled far, and farther than I can tell, till they met with a company of robbers. The giant for the first time was foremost now, but the dwarf was not far behind. The battle was stout and long. Wherever the giant came, all fell before him; but the dwarf had like to have been killed more than once. for I find, in every battle, that you get all the honours and rewards, but all the blows fall on me."" I was going to moralise this fable, when our attention was called off to a warm dispute between my wife and Mr. Burchell, upon my daughters' intended expedition to town. My wife very strenuously insisted upon the advantages that would result from it. Mr. Burchell, on the contrary, dissuaded her with great ardour, and I stood neuter. His present dissuasions seemed but the second part of those which were received with so ill a grace in the morning. The dispute grew high, while poor Deborah, instead of reasoning stronger, talked louder, and was at last obliged to take shelter from a defeat in clamour. The conclusion of her harangue was, however, highly displeasing to us all she knew, she said, of some who had their own secret reasons for what they advised; but for her part, she wished such to stop away from her house for the future. 66 At last, the victory declared for the two adventurers; but the dwarf lost his leg. The dwarf was now without an arm, a leg, and an eye, while the giant was without a single wound. Upon which the giant cried out to his little companion, 'My little hero, this is glorious sport; let us get one victory more, and then we shall have honour for ever.' "No,' cries the dwarf, who had by this time grown wiser, 'no; I declare off; I'll fight no more, "Madam," cried Burchell, with looks of great composure, which tended to inflame her the more, as for secret reasons, you are right; I have secret reasons which I forbear to mention, because you are not able to answer those of which I make no secret. But I find my visits here are become troublesome; I'll take my leave therefore now, and perhaps come once more to take a final farewell when I am quitting the country." Thus saying, he took up his hat; nor could the attempts of Sophia, whose looks seemed to upbraid his precipitancy, prevent his going. 66 FOPS AND FOPPERY. [By CHARLES J. DUNPHIE.] the person of Osrick. How pungently does Hamlet satirise the 'waterfly," and how amusingly does he mimic his mincing mode of speech! "To divide him inventorially, would dizzy the arithmetic of memory, and it but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article; and his infusion of such dearth and rareness, as to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror; and who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more." This crabbed English is a sarcastic skit upon the affected phraseology of men who aped ton in Shakspere's time. In Hudibras we find mention of a creature known as a "fopdoodle." "You have been roaming," says Butler, Tis honourably significant of the progress | Elizabethan era is doubtless typified accurately in of civilisation that foppery is everywhere disappearing. Fops by whatever phrase designated, whether as "fops" proper, "beaux, "macaronis," "sparks," dandies," "bucks," "petits maîtres," "Bond Street loungers," "exquisites," or "Corinthians," have well-nigh vanished from the world. Their very names have become enigmatic. To trace from age to age through all its phases of development the history of these popinjays of fashion were a task not unworthy of satirist or philosopher. It would be interesting to observe the grotesque inspirations of Folly as illustrated in the careers of her most fantastic votaries. If not more virtuous, we are certainly of graver deportment, than our fathers, and there is hardly a man of sense among us who will not say with Shakspere in The Merchant of Venice, "Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter my sober house." The Fop of the "Where sturdy butchers broke your noddle, The "fopdoodle" now exists only in the dic tionary. He is no great loss, for his name was sufficiently expressive of his silliness. The Fop had a long reign, and figures prominently in the literature of the last two centuries. In the old play of The Magnetic Lady his qualities are summed up with delicate precision. He is pictured as "A courtier extraordinary, who, by diet Of meats and drinks, his temperate exercise, Of his whole happiness the trim of curls." Swift, who seldom lost an opportunity of expressing his contempt for the sex which he used so vilely, is particularly severe upon women for their partiality for fools, fops and rakes: "In a dull stream which moving slow, When a small breeze obstructs the course, Nothing but chaff, and straws, and feathers. Stops thus and turns with every wind, Fools, fops, and rakes for chaff and straws." The Sparks were in great force even in the time of Dr. Johnson, who describes them as "lively, showy, splendid gay men." They were of respectable antiquity, hailing probably from the days of the Restoration, when the nation expressed in costume as in all things else its wild delight at being emancipated from the grim bondage of Puritanism. The "beau" whom Johnson defined as "a man of dress-a man whose great care is to deck his person," flourished most luxuriantly in the last century. His was the sumptuous age of powder and patches. He was especially dainty in the matters of sword-knots, shoe-buckles, and lace ruffles. He was ablaze with jewellery, took snuff with an incomparable air out of a box studded with diamonds, and excelled in the "nice conduct of a clouded cane." Age brought him no wisdom, but, on the contrary, rather served to give to his folly a more pungent aroma. He culminated in some such personage as Lord Ogilby in The Clandestine Marriage. It has been observed with some touch of wit that a beau dressed out resembled the cinnamon tree, the bark being of greater value than the body. The word "macaroni," as applied to a fop, is of curious origin. In its primary signification it means a kind of paste meat boiled in broth, and dressed with butter, cheese, and spice. How it came to be used for the designation of drolls and fools is explained by Addison in the Spectator. "There is a set of merry drolls whom the common people of all countries admire and seem to love so well that they could eat them, according to the old proverb; I mean those circumforaneous wits whom every nation calls by the name of that dish of meat which it loves best. In Holland they are termed 'pickled herrings,' in France Jean Potages,' in Italy 'maccaronis,' and in Great Britain Jack Puddings.' The transference of the word from fools and clowns to men of fantastic refinement and exaggerated elegance is a singular circumstance, of which philologists have not as yet given a satisfactory explanation. That the phrase did undergo that strange metamorphosis of meaning is beyond all question. Sir Benjamin Backbite, in The School for Scandal, applies the word to horses of a good breed, as distinguished from those of an inferior lineage :"Sure never were seen two such beautiful ponies, Other horses are clowns, but these macaronis ; The human Macaronis had a pleasant time of it, but they were eventually supplanted by the Dandies, who for several generations bore supreme sway in the realm of fantastic fashion. "Dandy is traced by etymologists through "Jack-a-dandy,” of which it is an abbreviation, to the French word "dandin"; but some grammarians are of opinion that the English term is borrowed from a very small coin of Henry VII.'s time, called a "dandiprat." Be this as it may, the "dandies" were for many a long year potentates whose influence was far too great to be measured by any coin, much less a dandiprat. They were probably at their prime in the days of the Regency, which epoch, however, they long survived. Lord Byron confesses to a predilection for them. "I like the dandies," he says; "they were always very civil to me; though in general they disliked literary people, and persecuted and mystified Madame de Staël, Lewis, Horace Twiss and the like. The truth is that, though I gave up the business early, I had a tinge of dandyism in my minority, and probably retained enough of it to conciliate the great ones at fourand-twenty." Lord Glenbervie foreshadowed the fall of the dandies, and luxuriated in the anticipation :-"The expressions 'blue-stocking' and 'dandy' may furnish matter for the learning of commentators at some future period. At this moment every English reader will understand them. Our present ephemeral dandy is akin to the 'macaroni' of my earlier days. The first of those expressions has become classical, by Mrs. Hannah More's poem of 'Bas Bleu,' and the other by the use of it in one of Lord Byron's poems. Though now become familiar and trite, their day may not be longCadentque quæ nunc sunt in honore vocabula.” But the dandies saw Lord Glenbervie down, and lived to come in for Mr. Carlyle's rugged denunciations. "Touching dandies," writes the Sartor |