"SIR NICHOLAS.--I must make great haste, I shall ne'er get my Points and Laces done up time enough. "MAJ. GEN. B.--What say'st, young fellow? Points and Laces for camps? "SIR NICH.--Yes, Points and Laces; why, I carry two laundresses on purpose.... Would you have a gentleman go undress'd in a camp? Do you think I would see a camp if there was no dressing? Why, I have two campaign suits, one trimmed with Flanders lace, and the other with rich Point. "MAJ. GEN. B.--Campaign suits with lace and Point!"[1022] In Westminster Abbey, where, as somewhat disrespectfully, say the Brothers Popplewell,[1023] the images of William and Mary "Stand upright in a press, with their bodies made of wax, A globe and a wand in either hand and their robes upon their backs"-- the lace tucker and double sleeves of Queen Mary are of the finest raised Venice point, resembling Fig. 29; King William likewise wears a rich lace cravat and ruffles.[1024] In a memorandum (carta d'informazione) given to the Venetian ambassadors about to proceed to England, 1696, they are to be provided with very handsome collars of the finest Venetian point, which, it is added, is also the best present to make.[1025] Before concluding the subject of the lace-bearing heroes, we may as well state here that the English soldiers rivalled the cavaliers of France in the richness of their points till the extinction of hair-powder (the wearing of which in the army consumes, says some indignant writer, flour enough to feed 600,000 persons per annum), when the lace cravat was replaced by the stiff and cumbersome stock. Speaking of {346}these military dandies, writes the _World_: "Nor can I behold the lace and the waste of finery in their clothing but in the same light as the silver plates and ornaments on a coffin; indeed, I am apt to impute their going to battle so trimmed and adorned to the same reason a once fine lady painted her cheeks just before she expired, that she might not look frightful when she was dead." "To war the troops advance, Adorned and trim like females for the dance. Down sinks Lothario, sent by one dire blow, A well-dress'd hero to the shades below." As the justice's daughter says to her mamma, in Sheridan's _St. Patrick's Day_:-- "Dear; to think how the sweet fellows sleep on the ground, and fight in silk stockings and lace ruffles."