on the leg of a modern European. That such a truly
elegant boot, so gentlemanlike, so dressy, and yet so thoroughly
serviceable, should ever have gone out of fashion, is to us a
melancholy, though not a needed, proof of the sheer caprice by which
men's fancies are commonly swayed. We suspect, however, that if any
cause more ostensible than mere accident can be alleged for this change,
it is to be traced to some knock-knee'd or spindle-shanked fellow, who
was ashamed to show his mis-shapen legs, and therefore concealed them in
loose trousers. These boots, it is true, were not so well calculated for
campaigning as the smaller ones which still bear the great man's name;
and this may have had something to do with their disuse; nevertheless
the change is to be lamented aesthetically, for the perfect union of
utility and ornament was never so well exemplified as in the Hessian
boot.

With all due respect to the dancing world, or to the world of
dancing-masters, we beg leave to anathematize the light shoe or pump; it
is an ugly, inconvenient, unsuitable thing, fit for a man with a white
waistcoat, gold chain, knee-breeches, &c., but not for a gentleman. The
true aesthetical article is either the elastic half-boot of the middle
ages; fitting on to the pantaloon, or else the thin Wellington boot of
the present day under the trousers. We do not care to see your ribbed
and open-worked silk stockings; such display is not for the sterner sex;
even in his highest moments of ornament, a man should always bear about
him a trace of the useful. To illustrate what we mean--a man is not born
to be a dancing-master, nor a tavern-waiter; a gentleman, more
especially, is intended, from the moment he can run alone, to be ready
for feats of gallantry and hardihood. He should dress accordingly; and,
as a fundamental rule, the reason for which lies deeper than most people
think, a gentleman should always be so attired as that, if occasion
demands, he should be able to mount a horse on the instant and ride for
his life. Now, your modern exquisite in pumps, or your old beau of the
last century in high red-heeled shoes, could do nothing of the kind
without much previous preparation; and we take it to be a sign of their
degenerating manhood. Nine-tenths of the men who take pleasure in shoes
and pumps, are but tailors on horseback; and the old fox-hunter, or the
old dragoon, (good types both in their way of what a man should be,)
love their boots nex