The form of top-boots was developed in various ways, until it reached an extravagant pitch in France in the reign of Louis XIV. The variations were mainly in the shape or adjustment of the tops, rather than in that portion of the boot which covered the foot. They were worn by the dandies with a profusion of costly lace. Several examples are given. This was the period of the highest, or rather widest, development of the tops of the boots; so wide, indeed, did they become, that the gait of a man might be described as straddling rather than walking. An example is given of a boot worn by the Comte de Soissons, 1628, which has a stiff rounded top like a basin, with a short hose worn over the hose proper, turned down below the knee and edged with rich lace. A variation of the top-boot worn from the time of Elizabeth onwards is a kind of soft leather hose or buskin drawn up to the middle of the thigh, the edge folded over and slashed; these were worn during the slashed period, when everything was slashed--hat, sleeves, doublet, and tunic (p. 297). [Illustration: COMTE DE SOISSONS, 1628.] The "Wellington" boot of the present day is practically identical with that worn by the illustrious soldier from whom it takes its name, and is a very slight variation of the form of riding boot which was in use at the beginning of the eighteenth century, except that it is of softer leather, allowing the boot to fall into folds at the ankle. The boot in the portrait of Napoleon by Isabey, in the Musée de Versailles, may be described as a sort of half Wellington, but the top-boot which is usually associated with Napoleon is cut away at its upper edge at the back, the front forming a kind of mask to the knee, a form of boot which, in fact, had been worn from the time of William III. [Illustration: BRAVOES. _Martin Schongauer._] Cloth and woollen boots and shoes, as were worn in the Middle Ages, have been recommended for _modern_ wear as being more healthy, and as allowing the natural perspiration of the foot to exhale, their sponsors affirming that "cloth and wool are perfectly suitable and safe for wet weather, as the wetting of the wool does not chill the feet, the heat of which promptly evaporates the moisture from the covering, which soon dries." It must, however, be admitted that with a cloth covering, the dirt and mud of a London winter would be a trial, and here, doubtless, we have a reason for the cobblestones of mediæval towns. Cobble-stones are clean, but must at once be ruled out of the question for London. Cobble-stones would indeed add a fresh horror to London life. But is it too much to expect the richest city in the world, with its thousands of unemployed, to keep its streets clean? Is there any reason why large cities should not be kept clean as well as small cities?