Note 170 — Chapter XIII · MEN'S DRESS.

We have seen the birth, marriage, and funeral of these good people, and have noted some of their social habits. Next is, how did they dress? Far plainer than in Charles the Second's time, rather richer than under solemn and austere Dutch William, yet not nearly as finely as during the Georgian era. That, of course, is speaking of ordinary mortals—neither the titled ones of the land, who showed their rank by their dress, nor the beaus, who formed no inconsiderable portion of metropolitan life, and at whom were levelled stinging little shafts of satire from all sides, mostly good-humoured. The macaroni, the dandy, the buck, the blood, the swell—all are fine, but the beau of Anne's time was superfine, and modelled on the messieurs of the time of Louis XIV. He cannot be dismissed in a few words, for he was an institution of the time. There were travelled fops, and they were hated—there were those of home manufacture, and they were laughed at. Misson notes that 'A Beau is so much the more remarkable in England, because generally speaking, the English Men dress in a plain uniform manner,' and he describes them as 'Creatures compounded of a Perriwig and a Coat laden with Powder as white as a Miller's, a Face besmear'd with Snuff, and a few affected airs; they are exactly like Molière's Marquesses, and want nothing but that Title, which they would infallibly assume in any other Country but England.' Cibber[170] describes him as one 'that's just come to a small Estate, and a great Perriwig—he that Sings himself among the Women—He won't speak to a Gentleman when a Lord's in Company. You always see him with a Cane dangling at his Button, his Breast open, no Gloves, one Eye tuck'd under his Hat, and a Toothpick.' Verily, there is little new under the sun, and we, in these our latter days, have been familiar with the Toothpick.