Before, however, an universal costume had been adopted the revolution came. Fortunes were swept away, palaces lost, and the people who inhabited them dispersed. We here lose sight of powdered hair forever, for both sexes cut their hair short, and shoes with strings were universally adopted. The reign of terror came, _sans-culottism_ was the rage. The red cap of liberty, the _houppelande_ of red worsted, or the _carmagnole_ usurped the place of the plumed hat and the graceful _roquelaure_. Open shirt collars and a knotted stick, like the Irish shilelah, were indispensible accompaniments to this dress, an admirable representation of which is to be seen in the making up of James Wallack, senior, for one of his many admirable impersonations, called David Duvigne, in that pretty two act drama of the “Hazard of the Die.” This costume is scarcely worthy of remark, except on account of the red Italian cap, a garment far more graceful than our hat, but proscribed on account of the horrors enacted by those who wore it. It, however, never was worn except in France, and we may well enough drop it here forever. Yet people must not think there was no richness of costume during the republic. There was as much extravagance as ever, only every one dressed according to his own whim. There were fops, too, called _Muscadins incroyables_ and _mervilleux_, who aped the manners of the old marquis. One great _trait_ of these was they were all near-sighted, and could not pronounce the letter R. They were the prototypes of our own dandies, as may be seen by the following specimen: [Illustration] This costume was imitated over all the world, and, except in the hat, breeches and ribbons at the knee, does not differ greatly from the dress of our own day. [_To be continued._ * * * * * THE ADVENTURES OF A MAN “WHO COULD NEVER DRESS WELL.” BY M. TOPHAM EVANS. “Hang it!” I exclaimed, as I thrust the poker violently into the grate, and slammed myself into an arm-chair before the fire, “I am the most unfortunate rascal in the world!” I had just returned from the Hon. Mrs. Scatter’s squeeze. I can’t imagine why it should be the case, but it seems to be my unlucky destiny either to be thrust or to thrust myself eternally into the most inappropriate places possible. What the deuce should have taken me there? I know that I have no business at such assemblies—yet, oh, Julia! She waltzed with that fool, Fitzcrocky. The fellow hasn’t a particle of brain, but such a _moustache_! And then the style of his dress. With what elegant ease he sports his habiliments! Such perfect taste in their arrangement, and so harmonious the _tout ensemble_! Then look at me. They were whispering. He cast a sneering glance at my exterior. I know she laughed at me. Zounds, I could tear my hair to tatters!