Up to the age of Louis XIV., the skin Glove was destined rather for the use of men, and it was only under this Prince that Gloves mounting a long way up the arm, and long Mittens of silk netting to set off the hands of women, were generally adopted by them. Gloves /à l'occasion/, /à la Cadenet/, /à la Phyllis/, /à la Frangipane/, /à la Néroli/, Gloves /of the last cut/ worn awhile by the /Précieuses/, ceased to be fashionable about 1680. The custom, of which Tallemant speaks, of presenting ladies, after the banquet, with basins of Spanish Gloves, was only vulgarised in passing from the Court to the town. Dangeau, in his /Memoirs/, has written a chapter on the /Etiquette of Gloves and the Ceremonial of Mittens/. I refer you to it without ceremony. Under Louis XV., in the eighteenth century, so full of the rustle of silk, so enchanting that I fear to stop on it in your company, lest I should never leave it, the wearing of Gloves quickly became an enormous luxury. All those fair coquettes, whom you have seen at their toilets, or their /petit lever/, after Nattier, Pater, or Moreau, surrounded by their "/filles de modes/," caused a greater massacre of Gloves at the time of trying them on, than our richest worldlings of to-day. These Gloves were of kid, of thread, and of silk; the most celebrated came from Vendôme, from Blois, from Grenoble, and from Paris; they were generally made of white skin, wretchedly sewn, but the cut was extremely graceful, with its cuff falling from the wrist over the hand, and small ribbons and fine rosettes of carnation interlaced on this cuff. Gloves sewn after the English fashion were highly appreciated. It became a proverb, that for a Glove to be good, three realms must have contributed to it: "Spain to prepare the skin and make it supple, France to cut it, and England to sew it." Caraccioli maintains that a woman of fashion, about the middle of the eighteenth century, would not dispense with changing her Gloves four or five times a day. "The /petits-maîtres/," he adds, "never fail to put on, in the morning, Gloves of rose or /jonquil/, perfumed by the celebrated Dulac." As to Mittens, the same observer of the century notices them as specially belonging to women. "Nevertheless," he says, "in winter the manufacturers make furred Mittens, and men now wear them when they travel." Madame de Genlis has this curious observation in her /Dictionary of Etiquette/: "If you have anything to present to a princess, and have your Glove on, you must needs take it off." How many anecdotes, how many literary souvenirs, the Glove of the eighteenth century summons to the thought!