Meanwhile the great actress, Rachel, revived the ancient tragedies. She played successively Emilia, Hermione, Eriphyla, Monima, Electra, Roxana, Paulina, Agrippina, and Phædra, and by her genius gave new life to masterpieces that had been almost forgotten, if not despised, since Talma ceased to interpret them. Thereupon the ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain and those of the Chaussée d’Antin became fired with enthusiasm; not only did they invite Rachel to their salons, where she recited the imprecation of Camilla or the dream of Athalia, but they copied the dress of the illustrious tragedian. If Rachel wore a bracelet of artistic design, other ladies immediately tried to procure similar ornaments; or if on another occasion she displayed a set of magnificent cameos, they too must possess cameos of the same kind. They copied the great actress in the minutest detail of her costume, and even in her most characteristic head-dress. The Romantic School was succeeded by that of “good sense,” according to the admirers of Ponsard; and Emile Augier’s “Ciguë” produced a temporary revival of the taste for Greek and Roman fashions. But the reaction against the Middle Ages did not reach the “bourgeois” classes, who, when their “romanticist” costumes were worn out, replaced them with others of a less striking style, and better adapted to modern life. With regard to the colours most generally worn during the reign of Louis Philippe, we may mention Russian green, wine-lees, Marengo black, and pure Ethiopian, as succeeding to the delightful hues of lilac, pigeon-breast, and “early dawn.” And by how many extraordinary designations were the new materials known! How charming was that of _pou de soie_, or _pou de la reine_![59] Never had there been such a variety of nomenclature! The most wonderful appellations were bestowed either by the manufacturers or the vendors of the new materials, and the public seriously accepted and made use of the pretentious newly-invented words, at which sensible people could but smile. To “diamantines” were added “constellées,” and to “Venus’s hair” succeeded “butterflies’ wings.” How poetical! what romantic garments! We are omitting to mention the tricolour materials, that made a momentary appearance from time to time, when patriotism happened to be awakened by some victory over the tribes of Algeria. Besides poetical names, there were others less agreeable, but accepted universally nevertheless. It sounded odd to compliment a lady on her Bedouin sleeves, or her busked or loosely-laced bodice! Head coverings underwent singular changes. The “bibi” was suddenly transformed into the “cabas,” with a deep crown concealing the neck; and the next season brought in Pamela bonnets, with rounded brims, that very prettily revealed the outlines of the cheeks. The hair was, generally speaking, arranged in curls on each side, and in large rolls held by a comb at the back of the head.