guinea on every powdered head, expecting to add considerably to the revenue from the pockets of the rich. But, contrary to his expectations, the gay world eluded this ingenious tax by giving up the use of powder.
"Take care," said an Oxford tutor to young Landor, who was the first undergraduate to discard powder for his hair—"take care, or they will stone you for a republican." "But," said the poet, looking back across past years, "I stuck to my plain hair and queue tied with black ribbon."
This was but part of the dress revolution. The reign of the cocked hat trimmed with gold and silver was drawing to its close, and in its stead arrived the ancestor of the modern top-hat, only at present rounder, higher, and broader in the brim. One cannot but regret the change from canary-coloured pantaloons, long, grass-green, wide-skirted coats, and pink and buff waistcoats, reaching nearly to the knees, to the sombre-hued garments which were already beginning to replace these cheerful tints. The diamond-hilted sword, the clouded cane, and the suspended muff completed the eighteenth-century costume. These muffs had been used by both sexes during the Stuart period, but they did not come into general