ord or Keeley, in broad farce. In 1836 a cheap
mode of gilding, smart for a day, dull and shabby in a week, completely
destroyed the character of gilt buttons, and brought up the Florentine again.
This change was, no doubt, materially assisted and maintained by Bulwer's
novel of "Pelham," which set all young men dressing themselves up like crows
with white shirts.

In 1840 a deputation to Prince Albert attempted another revival of the gilt
button trade, and at the same time the silk stocking weavers waited on the
Prince to endeavour to drive out the patent leather boots, and bring in the
low shoe. Both attempts failed. At present there are symptoms of a turn of
fashion toward coloured coats and bright buttons, which may be successful,
because the fashionable world abhors monotony. The flame coloured coats,
long curls, and pink under waistcoats of George IV., were succeeded by the
solemn sables of an undertaker; the high tight stock made way for a sailor's
neckcloth. For a time shawl waistcoats, of gay colours, had their hour. Then
correct tight black yielded to the loosest and shaggiest garments that could
be invented. Perhaps the year 1852 may see our youth arrayed in blue, purple
and pale brown.

But a very little consideration will prove that these artificial changes,
although they may benefit a class, are of little advantage to the community.
If a man gives 10s. more for a coat with gilt buttons than for one with plain
buttons, he has 10s. less to expend with some other tradesman.

The Florentine Button, first invented in 1820, and since much improved, is a
very curious manufacture. It is made--as any one may see by cutting up a
button--of five pieces; first, the covering of Florentine, or silk; second, a
cover of metal, which gives the shape to the button; third, a smaller circle
of mill-board; fourth, a circle of coarse cloth, or calico; fifth, a circle
of metal, with a hole punched in the centre, through which the calico or
cloth is made to protrude, to form the shank, to be sewed on to the garment.

"Ranged in rows on either side of a long room of the button factory, (says
the correspondent of the Morning Chronicle) are from 50 to 100 girls and
young women, from the age of fourteen to four or five and twenty, all busily
engaged, either at hand or steam presses, in punching out metal circles
slightly larger than the size of the button which is to be produced. Before
each press the forewoman is seated, h