Perhaps there never was a time when the depressing effects of stagnation in business were so universally felt, all the world over, as they are now.—­The merchant sends out old dollars, and is lucky if he gets the same number of new ones in return; and he who has a share in manufactures, has bought a ‘bottle imp,’ which he will do well to hawk about the street for the lowest possible coin.  The effects of this depression must of course be felt by all grades of society.  Yet who that passes through Cornhill at one o’clock, and sees the bright array of wives and daughters, as various in their decorations as the insects, the birds and the shells, would believe that the community was staggering under a weight which almost paralyzes its movements?  ‘Everything is so cheap,’ say the ladies, ’that it is inexcusable not to dress well.’  But do they reflect why things are so cheap?  Do they know how much wealth has been sacrificed, how many families ruined, to produce this boasted result?  Do they not know enough of the machinery of society, to suppose that the stunning effect of crash after crash, may eventually be felt by those on whom they depend for support?

Luxuries are cheaper now than necessaries were a few years since; yet it is a lamentable fact, that it costs more to live now than it did formerly.  When silk was nine shillings per yard, seven or eight yards sufficed for a dress; now it is four or five shillings, sixteen or twenty yards will hardly satisfy the mantuamaker.

If this extravagance were confined to the wealthiest classes, it would be productive of more good than evil.  But if the rich have a new dress every fortnight, people of moderate fortune will have one every month.  In this way, finery becomes the standard of respectability; and a man’s cloth is of more consequence than his character.

Men of fixed salaries spend every cent of their income, and then leave their children to depend on the precarious charity and reluctant friendship of a world they have wasted their substance to please.  Men who rush into enterprise and speculation, keep up their credit by splendor; and should they sink, they and their families carry with them extravagant habits to corrode their spirits with discontent, perchance to tempt them into crime.  ‘I know we are extravagant,’ said one of my acquaintance, the other day; ’but how can I help it?  My husband does not like to see his wife and daughters dress more meanly than those with whom they associate.’  ’Then, my dear lady, your husband has not as much moral dignity and moral courage as I thought he had.  He should be content to see his wife and daughters respected for neatness, good taste, and attractive manners.’  ’This all sounds very well in talk,’ replied the lady; ’but, say what you will about pleasing and intelligent girls, nobody will attend to them unless they dress in the fashion.  If my daughters were to dress in the plain, neat style you recommend, they would see all their acquaintance asked to dance more frequently than themselves, and not a gentleman would join them in Cornhill.’