[21] The fashion was a little absurd in its stateliness. Ladies were wont to wear nodding plumes of ostrich feathers, as at the Queen’s drawing-rooms, standing upright on the head, till they added a foot, at least, to the fair amazons’ height.
[22] Let us echo Henry Tilney’s praise of muslin. Will its simple, elegant, once wide reign never return? The prevalence of calico balls is a poor substitute for its sway.
[23] The old-fashioned term “quiz” was freely applied last century. It was originally associated with the first specimen of eye-glass, through which the short-sighted were supposed to quiz their neighbours. I should suppose Jane Austen must have been called a quiz in her day. The accusation was half coveted, half dreaded, according to the temper of the individual who incurred it.
[24] The remonstrance is still needed.
[25] Since these words were written we have had the whole of the “Waverley Novels,” not to mention more modern gains added to our wealth of excellent English works of fiction.
[26] There is this to be said for the sensational horrors which enchanted the girls of the last century, that these horrors, when founded on the model of Mrs. Radcliffe’s romances, were well principled, and free from inherent moral coarseness and license of tone.
[27] Perhaps the number of jilts in the last century have to do with spontaneous combustion where hearts were concerned.
[28] Some of the beautiful portraits of the last century (one, if I recollect rightly, which represents Mrs. Sheridan and her sister) give an idea how daintily becoming, how perfectly elegant, these muslin costumes could be.
[29] Wood and water always figure largely in Jane Austen’s landscapes.
[30] The furor about the “Mysteries of Udolpho,” in its day, was, indeed, not confined to school-girls. It extended over the whole reading world. It was European, as well as English.