It was not without mortification that the King observed the Queen's adoption of this style of dress: she was never so lovely in his eyes as when unadorned by art.

One day Carlin, performing at Court as harlequin, stuck in his hat, instead of the rabbit's tail, its prescribed ornament, a peacock's feather of excessive length.

This new appendage, which repeatedly got entangled among the scenery, gave him an opportunity for a great deal of buffoonery.

There was some inclination to punish him; but it was presumed that he had not assumed the feather without authority.-NOTE BY THE EDITOR.] Innumerable caricatures, exhibited in all directions, and some of which artfully gave the features of the Queen, attacked the extravagance of fashion, but with very little effect.

It changed only, as is always the case, through the influence of inconstancy and time.
The Queen's toilet was a masterpiece of etiquette; everything was done in a prescribed form.