They went on to say that the art of dressing women’s hair was nearly allied to genius; and that in order to exercise it nobly, one should be at once a poet, a painter, and a sculptor. “It is necessary to understand shades of colour, chiaro oscuro, and the proper distribution of shadows, so as to confer animation on the complexion, and make other charms more expressive. The art of dressing a prude, and of letting pretensions be apparent, yet without thrusting them forward; that of pointing out a coquette, and of making a mother look like her child’s elder sister, of adapting the style of dress to the disposition of the individual, which must sometimes be guessed at, or to the evident desire of pleasing ... in fine, the art of assisting caprices, and occasionally controlling them, requires a more than common share of intellect, and a tact with which one must be born.” I am not drawing on my imagination. The memorial of the ladies’ hair-dressers is still in existence, and bears the names of the procureur and advocate-general of the time. The artists in hair exclaim in poetical accents, “If the locks of Berenice have been placed among the stars, who shall say that she reached that height of glory unaided by us!” They vaunt their honesty: “The treasures of Golconda are continually passing through our hands; it is we who decide how to arrange diamonds, crescents, sultanas (a particular form of necklace), aigrettes.” They compare themselves to heroes: “A general knows how to take advantage of a demi-lune in front of his position—in the van, he has his engineers; we, too, are engineers so far; a crescent advantageously placed by us is hard to contend against, and it seldom happens that the enemy does not surrender at discretion!... A lady’s hair-dresser is, as it were, the first officer of the toilet ... and under his artistic hands, amid his artistic influences, does the rose expand and acquire her most brilliant beauty.” The conclusion to be drawn is that wig-makers and their assistants are evidently unfit to dress the hair of women. The law proceedings, however, did not prevent the competition of wig-makers and female hair-dressers, even at the period when all trade guilds were suppressed. “The toilet of the queen of France was a masterpiece of etiquette, according to Mme. Campan; everything was done by rule: the lady of honour and the lady of the bedchamber were both present, assisted by the first dresser, and two others who did the principal part of the service; but there were distinctions to be observed. The lady of the bedchamber (dame d’atours) put on the queen’s petticoat and handed her gown, the lady of honour poured out water for washing the royal hands, and put on the queen’s chemise.”