are so well known to the Nobility, &c. Ladies’ Masks and Tippets.
All this effort at decoration and beautifying is very wrong, but we are stopped in our desire to “improve the occasion” by the recollection that no age has been more deep in the mysteries of cosmetic, enamel, pearl powder, and paint than our own, in which quacks abound, and old ladies have been known to submit themselves to the operation of being made beautiful, not for all time, but for ever. A little further on, in the Evening Post, we come upon an ambitious author who has attempted to regenerate the drama, and who advertises his work. Shakespeare seems always to have been considered capable of improvement by somebody, but as the mania for touching the immortal bard up, and making him respectable and fit for the understandings of small tradesmen, still goes on, and fortunes are made at it, we will give the following without comment, lest some original author of the present day might think we were obliquely alluding to him:—