on the counter, kicked his heels against its supporters, folded his arms, and looking Vince in the face, with much importance, said—“ Cockney Bill,”—“ Villiam Wince, if you please, Tevas,” -interrupted the astonished and angry artist"what do you want? Get off my counter." “Sir,” replied Tevas, still more indignantly and angrily, "I would have you to know that I am Matthew Oakes, Esquire." "Vell then, Mr. Hoakes, what do you want?" said Vince-" Get off of that 'ere counter instinctly!" "Hold your jaw, Bill," said Tevas, drawing a red canvass bag from his pocket, which he slammed on the counter, producing a jingle not unknown, though unusual to the ears of the tailor. "Hear what I have to say to you, if you please. All England is in tears for the death of our lamented sovereign. He was as brave as Solomon, and as wise as Alexander; and all York is going to be in tears too. All the genteel people are going into mourning on this truly doleful occasion, and I want a first chop suit of black clothes, as good as you can make, to cut them all out, by the day after to-morrow."

The tailor felt strongly tempted to laugh at the wants of the shabby-genteel individual, who had such loyal intentions. But as he gazed on the queer customer, the red bag with chink so de

lightful, and the rusty velvet which it was so difficult to get rid of, it required not the prophetic eye of genius to imagine a change in their several relations, much to his own advantage. Altering, therefore, his tone and manner very materially, he exclaimed, "Mr. Hoakes, this is the werry welwet out of what Lord Chisterfield had his last suit of court mourning made off of; and if there's any body more genteel than Lord Chisterfield, I should like for to know it."

To be brief, he measured Oakes, and promised to deliver the suit at the time required; which promise, (the only instance of the kind on record in the annals of his craft,) he actually performed with punctuality. Nor did he let his patient go, without suggesting and supplying all the other improvements of his person which the shop afforded.

On the next Sunday, Tevas, whom we must now call Mr. Oakes, made his appearance in Trinity Church, in fine new ruffles, a brilliant cocked beaver, bag, solitaire, and all the equipments of a macaroni of those days, overlaying and garnishing the mourning apparel, which, albeit rusty and shop-worn, had not yet lost "all its original brightness, nor appeared less than black velvet ruined." Although Dr. Barclay preached an excellent funeral sermon on the

virtues of the late British Trajan, that had been, and the still greater virtues of his successor, the British Augustus that was to be, all his eloquence and learning were wasted. Not on Trajan, nor Augustus, nor Dr. Barclay, but on Mr. Oakes was the attention of the audience riveted. The gentry were not a little scandalized at the blackhilted sword, which the clerk's son had mounted, and wore with an air decidedly aristocratic. But they were too dignified to exhibit any other emotion than that of silent contempt.

The wonder grew, a week or two after, when Mat was seen strutting about town, at a fashionable hour, in a scarlet coat with gold embroidery, with a richly laced hat and diamond knee-buckles. Two navy lieutenants, whose acquaintance he had contrived to make, took him with them to pay visits; and though, as you may imagine, he was received with a mixture of undefinable sensations, he was not turned out bodily any where. And he now commenced a bowing acquaintance with several ladies of fashion; and was the daily subject of admiration, as he perambulated William-street. He lounged every morning in Mr. Vince's shop, and rode out every day, on a strong, cantering, capering, curvetting, prancing, tall white horse, with cropt ears and a switch tail, wall-eyed, but of full blood and well-attested

pedigree, to a tavern out of town, with the sign of the young King George III., near the site of the present Hospital. He took a room at the City Tavern; cut his father and mother, and all his humble and hard-working brothers and sisters; gave dinners at the hotel; and, by way of shaking off all vulgar, familiar, and early associations, altered his name, by changing Matthew into Mark, and spelling Oakes, Oques.

Mysterious was the source of his means of paying for his new and luxurious expenses. Equally mysterious seemed the way in which he gradually got into society at that time. But this would be no great matter of wonder in our days. It may be proper, however, to mention, that a fashionable lady, who was fond of patronising and bringing forward young men, took a fancy to something about Mr. Oques, either his clothes, or his horse, or himself; carried him about into company; said he was an astonishing genius, and read some verses every where, which he had given her as his own. Every one who knows any thing about the course of things in that part of society denominated high life, knows, that the Rubicon being once passed, as long as the cash seems to hold out, there is no further inquiry made as to the origin, means, or qualifications of an adopted member of the beau monde. Old

women, and jealous or envious rivals, are alone given to making queries about the lineage, breeding, and associations of the parvenu. So it fared with Matthew, or Mark, who lost no opportunity of making good the ground he had occupied. At a subscription ball given to Governor Monckton, on his return from the conquest of Martinico, the quondam door-keeper of Mr. Turner appeared in all his glory, in a rich suit of green and red Genoa velvet, lined with yellow satin, with cut steel buttons, outshining all the vestimental magnificence of the fête. He had even the assurance to ask the Duchess of Gordon (who, as all the learned in the British peerage well know, married an American gentleman,) to dance a minuet with him. Supposing him to be some stray sprig of nobility, her Grace acceded to the sublimely impudent proposition, and the star of Mr. Oques became immediately one of the first magnitude. He led the mode, and his tailor profited richly by his recommendations. He became a great literary character; lounging daily at Rivington's, in Hanover-square, where he bought canes and opera-glasses, and purchased all the half-dozen copies of the first two volumes of Tristram Shandy, which had been ventured in the NewYork market; and which he had the pleasure of lending to all the reading people in polite society.