Stowe informs us that poking sticks were now first invented; they were made of steel, and, when heated, were used for plaiting the ruffs. Until this time, sticks of bone or wood had been employed for the same purpose.

Now, too, the English began to make costly washes and perfumes: the latter had been introduced into England by Edward Vere, earl of Oxford. He also brought Elizabeth, from Italy, a pair of embroidered gloves, scented with sweet perfume. They were trimmed with four tufts, or roses, of coloured silk, and her majesty was so much delighted with this new fashion, that in one of her pictures she is painted with them on her hands.

Wharton says that gloves were during this reign often presented to guests of distinction.

Fans, which also came from Italy, according to Stevens, in the time of Henry the Eighth, were now used both by men and women. We are informed, "that even young gentlemen carried fans of feathers in their hands, which," continues the author, “in wars our ancestors wore on their heads." The most costly were made of ostrich-feathers, fastened into handles composed of gold, silver, or ivory, curiously worked. In the Sydney papers mention

is made by Wharton of a fan presented to Elizabeth, the handle of which was studded with diamonds.

The bright-coloured feathers from the peacock's tail, too, were frequently formed into the same ornament, fans of painted paper and silk not being used for some years afterwards.

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Perwiches (as they were then termed) were mentioned by Churchyard in one of his earlier poems, though in "Northward Hoe" we read, "There is a new trade come up for cast gentlewomen, that of perriwig-making;" and in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona" Julia exclaims, "I'll get me such a perriwig!" Warner, in his "Albion's England," is very severe upon this fashion. Stowe informs us that women's perriwigs were first brought into England at the time of the massacre of Paris, and Stubbs says that about the year 1595, when the fashion became general in England of wearing a greater quantity of hair than was ever the produce of a single head, it was dangerous for any child to wander, as nothing was more common than for women to entice such as had fine locks into out-of-the-way places, and there cut them off. The same author adds, "And if any have haire of her owne naturall growing, which is not faine ynough, then will they die it in divers colours."

During this reign dyeing the hair was frequently severely censured from the pulpit, and two books were published against perukes and perukemakers.

Beards, whiskers, and moustaches, appear to have flourished greatly at this time, but the hair was worn short, curled, and parted on the forehead. In a portrait of Sir Francis Drake, painted in 1596, we find him dressed in a doublet that looks very much like

the coats now worn; it is buttoned down the front, and has a kind of collar that lies upon the breast, with a lace frill falling over it.

That distinguished statesman and accomplished gentleman, Sir Walter Raleigh, of whom it has been so truly said, "that he was one of the very chief glories of an age crowded with towering spirits,” is represented, in one of his portraits, in a splendid dress. The under waistcoat, buttoned

down the front, is of satin or velvet, the surcoat of dark velvet, embroidered with pearls, in rich and varied patterns, which forms a peak in front; the back and sleeves are plain, with the exception of an ornament on the top. His ruff is large and full, his beard thick and pointed, his hair curled off the forehead, and he wears a hat with a moderate-sized crown, a broad brim, turned up all round,

and adorned with a large pearl and a feather.

Sir Francis Bacon is represented in a doublet of a different shape: in front it hangs in folds, the under sleeve is tight, and of the same material as the doublet, but there is an upper one, covered with embroidery and buttons, which surrounds the arm at the top, and hangs outside the elbow. His ruff surpasses in size any yet seen, and is edged with lace, his hat much the same as the one we have given, only higher in the crown, and without ornament.

In Dr. N. Drake's work, entitled "Shakspeare and his Times," he remarks: "The account given of the male fashionable dress has sufficiently made out the assertion which we made at the commencement, that in extravagance and frivolity it surpassed the expenditure and caprice of the other sex." This charge was repeated by Burton at the close of this era. Exclaiming against the luxury of fine clothes, he remarks: "Women are bad, and men worse. So ridiculous are we in our attires, and for cost so excessive, that, as Hierom said of old, 'tis an ordinary thing to put a thousand oaks and an hundred oxen into a suit of apparel, to wear a whole manor on his back. What with shoe-ties, hangers, points, caps and feathers, scarfs, bands, cuffs, &c., in a short space all their patrimonies are consumed. Heliogabalus is taxed by Lampridius, and admired in his age, for wearing jewels in his shoes, a common thing in our times, not for emperors and princes, but almost for serving men and taylors; all the flowers, stars, constellations, gold and precious stones, do condescend to set out their shoes."

The dress of the citizen, indeed, was, if less elegant, equally showy, and sometimes fully as expensive as that of the man of fashion. The medium habit may, with great probability, be considered as sketched in the following humorous tale, derived from a popular pamphlet printed in 1609:

"A citizen, for recreation's sake,

To see the country would a journey take
Some dozen mile, or very little more;
Taking his leave with friends two months before,
With drinking healths, and shaking by the hand,
As he had travail'd to some new-found land.

Well, taking horse, with very much ado
London he leaveth for a day or two:
And as he rideth, meets upon the way

Such as (what haste soever) bid men stay.

'Sirrah,' says one, 'stand, and your purse deliver,
I am a taker, thou must be a giver.'

Unto a wood hard by they hale him in,
And rifle him unto his very skin.

'Maisters,' quoth he, 'pray hear me ere you go;
For
you have rob'd more now than you do know.
My horse, in truth, I borrowed of my brother:
The bridle, and the saddle, of another:

The jerkin, and the bases, be a taylor's;
The scarfe, I do assure you, is a saylour's:
The falling band is likewise none of mine,
Nor cuffs; as true as this good light doth shine.
The satin doublet, and rays'd velvet hose
Are our church-wardens, all the parish knows.
The boots are John the Grocer's at the Swan :
The spurs were lent me by a serving man.
One of my rings-that with the great red stone,
In sooth I borrow'd of my gossip Jone :
Her husband knows not of it, gentlemen!
Thus stands my case :-)
-I pray shew favor then.'

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Why,' quoth the thieves, thou need'st not greatly care,
Since in thy loss so many beare a share.

The world goes hard: many good folks lacke;
Looke not, at this time, for a penny backe;
Go, tell at London thou didst meet with foure,
That rifling thee, have rob'd at least a score.'

It seems strange that Elizabeth, herself so devoted a follower of fashion, should not have permitted her subjects to please themselves, in the shape, size, and form, of their attire. On the contrary, she made more laws than any other monarch, respecting dress. She