themselves beards with the hair of their heads, which they ingeniously
arranged on their cheeks, in order that the enemy, deceived by the
likeness, might take them for men. It is asserted, after _Suidas_, that,
in a similar case, the Athenian women did as much.[38] These women were
more men than our Jemmy-Jessamy countrymen.
Footnote 38:
[Greek: Pogonias], _sive de barbâ Dialogus Antonii Hotomanni_.
About a century ago the ladies adopted the mode of dressing their hair
in such a manner that curls hung down their cheeks as far as their
bosom. These curls went by the name of _whiskers_.[39] This custom
undoubtedly was not invented, after the example of the Lombard women, to
fright the men. Neither is it with intention to carry on a very bloody
war, that, in our time, they have affected to bring forward the hair of
the temple on the cheeks. The discovery seems to have been a fortunate
one: it gives you a tempting, roguish, pleasing look, of which the
ladies are very fond at present.
Footnote 39:
Servants, and citizens’ wives, who wore _whiskers_ like ladies of
fashion, were attacked without mercy. _See Trevoux’s dict._
Some wits have made themselves merry at the women’s not having a beard
on their chin like the men: they pretended that it was impossible to
shave them without bringing blood, because it is very difficult for the
fair-sex to keep their tongues silent a moment. This thought has pleased
so much that it has been put into Greek, Latin, Italian, and French
verse. Here is the French.[40]
Footnote 40:
See le Menagiana, tom. iv. pag. 206.
Sais-tu pourquoi, cher camarade,
Le beau sexe n’est point barbu?
Babillard comme il est, on n’auroit jamais pu
Le raser sans estafilade.
_IMITATED._
Know’st thou why my dear companion
Ladies have not beards like us?
Talking always, who could shave them,
Without gashing them the deuce.
_AGAIN._
(BY A FRIEND.)
The reason why men should have beards on their face,
And that tattling women have none,
Is, the Devil can’t shave such a chattering race,
But he’d cut their glib cheeks to the bone.
What has been rendered sometimes supportable by circumstances, an
extravagant taste, the desire of being distinguished from the crowd, or
to command their attention; true taste, and especially the art of
pleasing, has always proscribed. We meet with women every day whose
features are shaded with this ornament of virility. But very far from
priding themselves on this superfluity of nature, they regard it as a
blemish to be ashamed of, which they endeavour to eradicate. How many
brunetts especially[41] are obliged, in the secret moments of their
toilet, to make use of!... But let us by no means reveal these
mysterious operations; they have a right to expect our indulgence, as
they tend to please us: moreover, a woman may very well be pardoned for
correcting this deviation of nature, since the men are not ashamed to
disfigure her.
Footnote 41:
The number is greater than people think. We have at present a heroine
whose dignities of warrior, juris-consult, man of letters, and
minister, as well as a bearded chin, concealed her sex a long time
from her countrymen.
It is as ridiculous for a man to look like a woman, as for a woman to
look like a man. However, a man without a beard would be much less
surprising now-a-days, than a bearded woman, which proves how unnatural
our tastes and customs are.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAP. V.
_That LONG BEARDS are salutary._
THE beard has not only the advantage of giving a man a stern, majestic
air, of preserving over the sex the empire which Nature has bestowed on
him, and of displaying on his face the characteristical marks of his
manhood, but likewise enables the attentive observer to remark, by more
determined changes, the different states of human life, and gives him
the still more valuable advantage of being useful to his own
preservation.
Nature made nothing in vain, and the course of her wise operations is
never opposed with impunity. Is it not natural to suppose, that this
bushy hair which she has placed on man’s face must have an influence on
the salubrity of the neighbouring parts that are acknowledged to be
essential? Is it possible to think otherwise, without accusing our
common mother of inconsequence, and charging her uniform conduct, (which
so fully explains its own motives,) with folly and extravagance? How is
it possible then for people to venture to thwart the wisdom of her
intentions, and destroy their effects, without being afraid of drawing
on themselves a superabundance of evils, to which human nature is
already too much subject? This however is what we do every day, in order
to comply with a very unnatural custom.
The beard, among men, is the sign of puberty, vigour, and weakness. ’Tis
this hair on the chin which first tells him that the time is come when
his organs, being more unfolded, will procure him a new existence, that
he is entering the state of manhood, that he is going to take his place
in society, and that he is endowed with the valuable faculty of
begetting his own likeness.
This down on the chin is the same with young men, as the increase of the
bosom with young girls. These two proofs of puberty announce, in both
sexes, that sweet inquietude, the prelude of love and pleasure; those
emotions, desires, and wants to be happy which nature has implanted in
the human breast; and at the same time the power of reason.[42] “The
beard,” says Theodoret in his fourth discourse on the Providence of God,
“informs these young folks, who have this downy hair on their chin, that
it is time to leave off childish plays, in order to employ themselves
about more serious things.” ’Tis then the greater or less quantity of
beard a man has that determines, in the same proportion, the vigour of
his body; ’tis then that Nature, steady in her course, requires its
increase, and there is no doubt but our perseverance in thwarting her
will, injures the adjoining parts.
Footnote 42:
“It is at the time the Devil is in a passion that the beard begins to
bud; and if ever a man has occasion to show some sign of courage or
make some sensible observation, ’tis then his beard begins to come.
_Pogonologia._”
If it is evident that a long beard, by the equal heat which it
maintains, procures glandulous bodies a mild perspiration, and that it
draws away the humours intended by Nature for its nourishment, it cannot
be denied but that, the beard being cut off, and neither the
perspiration nor secretion having place, the humours, which ought to
have produced both, take a different course and become prejudicial to
the parts through which they are obliged to circulate. This is the
sentiment of a very learned writer, who has examined the beard under
this interesting point of view. “It is incontestable,” says he, “that a
long beard contributes greatly to health, because, whilst it draws off
the superfluous humours which nourish this mark of manhood, it preserves
the teeth a long time from rotting, and strengthens the gums, an
advantage which those who shave are generally deprived of, who, almost
all, are tormented with a dreadful pain in the teeth, and lose them all
before they are any way advanced in age. The beard, in summer,”
continues the same author, “defends the face from the burning rays of
the sun; and in winter from rimes. In short, it preserves a man from a
number of disorders, such as the quinsy and the decay of the palate,
&c.”[43] Adrian Junius, a physician who lived in the sixteenth century,
in his commentary on the hair of the head, asserts that the beard is a
preservative against several disorders. Gentien Hervet, in one of his
discourses on beards, relates, that after the council of Trent, several
ecclesiastics, being obliged to shave, were some time after seized with
a violent tooth ach. I may add to these authorities what I have been
told by very credible persons. A German gentleman, having been a long
time tormented with a violent pain in his teeth, was advised to let his
beard grow out, and he was entirely indebted to this remedy for his
cure.
Footnote 43:
Pierius Valerianus, _Pro Sacerdotum barbis_.
The ancients seem to have been more sensible than we of the particular
virtue of this ornament of manhood. It was not without reason that they
represented Esculapius, the God of Physic, ornamented with a bushy,
golden beard, whilst his father, Apollo, had a shaved chin.
This symbolical beard proclaimed to the Greeks, not only that they
should wear their beards, but moreover, by the richness of its metal,
how necessary the beard was to their health. It was not with impunity,
say several writers, that Dionysius the tyrant took away this golden
fleece from the God of Physic: among others, they regard, as a
chastisement for this sacrilege, his being obliged, through his
mistrust, to have his children burn his beard with hot nut-shells,
rather than trust himself in the hands of the barbers of Syracuse.
The denomination which the Latins give the beard proves that they were
thoroughly persuaded of its preserving them from defluxions and other
disorders to which the nudity of our chins is exposed: they called it
_vestis_ (clothing), and _investis_ (without clothing), any one not of
the age of puberty.
As to us, slaves to the odd customs which we have ourselves invented, we
are still very far from thinking that it is proper to look like a man. A
manly, vigorous look is not fashionable, and even health is no longer in
vogue. I see very clearly that the beard, should it be again admitted in
its turn, may very well cause the destruction of some disagreeable
customs, among others, that of taking snuff; but, in order to give an
idea of this loss, I will here place the sentiment of a contemporary on
this sternutative powder. “Snuff,” says he, “gives a kind of slovenly
appearance to those who make use of it, and which they are incapable of
avoiding: their breath has a disagreeable smell, their noses are almost
always foul, their clothes very often dirty, their faces disgusting,
their tongues dry, especially after sleep, &c. But all this is nothing
to the disagreeable disorders which the use of this powder produces; and
after the enumeration which I’m going to make of them, people will be
astonished still more that such a bad custom is not laid aside.” He then
continues: “Snuff is hurtful to dry, bilious, and hot constitutions; it
intoxicates and discomposes the functions of the brain, brings on
vomiting, weakens the stomach, irritates the nerves, impairs the
faculties of the understanding, destroys the memory, takes off all sense
of smelling, heats, disturbs the sleep, causes vapours and swimmings in
the head, and at length brings on an apoplexy or a lethargy.”[44]
Footnote 44:
Discours preliminaire des Tables néologique & météorologiques, by M.
Bazoux. Mr. Buc’hoz has just published a work on the use of snuff,
which corroborates this opinion.
If this account is just, and we may be permitted to add to it the
disgusting marks which this powder imprints on the beauty of the fair,
it must be confessed that great obligation would be due to whatever
should cause it to be disused.
In ripe age, the beard is the sign of physical powers: in old age, the
symbol of veneration. What sight is there more reverend than an old man
with a venerable, long, white beard, receiving the caresses of his
grand-children, the sole consolation of his burthensome years!
Surrounded by his family, he is the image of wisdom and divinity. Is
there any thing more noble than Nestor appeasing the rage of Achilles,
lamenting the misfortunes of that division, giving advice to all the
kings of the camp of the Greeks, and seeing himself the object of
general veneration? Where is there to be found a more striking example
of majestic sweetness than that of the sage Mentor? Is there a more
moving picture than that of old Priam at Achilles’s feet, kissing the
terrible hands of the murderer of his son; and to see this venerable old
man beg with tears the sad remains of the unfortunate Hector? All these
different sketches may give some idea of the majesty and nobleness which
a long beard and hoary locks stamp on the person of an old man. But let
any one fancy Mentor and Nestor shaved, and old king Priam without his
beard and white hair, having each of them a wig with three tails; this
allusion, at first so flattering, will disappear; ridicule will succeed
to respect, and he will no longer see in these heroes, but the figure of
our neighbour the churchwarden, the overseer of the poor, and the
auctioneer.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAP. VI.
_Of FALSE BEARDS._
THE substitutes of art are to nature what hypocrisy is to virtue: both
are unworthy of an upright man, who is no more afraid to discover the
sentiments of his heart, than the lineaments of his face. But if, as a
famous moralist said, _hypocrisy is a homage which vice pays to virtue_,
false beards should likewise be regarded as a homage which luxury or
idleness pays to natural beards.
Such impositions are more or less condemnable, according to the causes
from whence they proceed. The old man whom Theophrastus speaks of, who,
in order to plead before the senate of Lacedemon, stained his beard and
hoary locks black, dearly merited the mortifying affront which a
meanness so unworthy of his age publicly drew on him. As he was debating
his cause, his adversary interrupted him, and addressing himself to the
senate, asked what confidence could be given to the words of a man who
carried a lie in his face?
Towards the middle of the fourteenth century, false beards came much
into fashion in Spain, especially in the estates of Cortez of Catalonia.
This artifice, which procured the advantage that a beard gives a man,
with much ease, must appear much less strange among a people whose
character has gravity for basis. This mode was adopted with the greatest
eagerness. The same persons had beards of different forms and colours,
and could change them as they pleased: they had different ones to wear
holidays and working-days; so that a man might have a short red beard in
the morning and in the evening a long black one. Every one changed his
appearance according to his interest. Such a commodious fashion and so
much followed favoured however a great many misdemeanours; and these
chin-wigs would soon have been as much the wear as those of the head, if
the abuse which was made of them had not at length attracted the
attention of government. Peter, king of Arragon, expressly forbade all
his subjects to wear false beards. They disappeared, and were replaced
by natural ones. ’Tis a great pity this mode never got beyond the
Pyrenean mountains: had it but reached France it would have acquired a
degree of pre-eminence, which the French alone are capable of giving.
However, Spain is not the only country where false beards have been in
vogue.
About the end of the fourteenth century there was the largest and
thickest beard seen at Paris that ever existed perhaps in the world; in
fact, it was the wonder of beards. The man who wore it called himself
patriarch of Constantinople; from his having such an extraordinary
beard, every one was inclined to believe his assertion: so much power
has appearance over the mind of man! Never was there a beard that raised
such a sensation. The Parisians, as may be supposed, were unceasing in
their admiration of it; and it was through favour of his beard that this
patriarch, as he called himself, received the most flattering reception.
He was every where loaded with honours: and this astonishing beard,
which attracted the veneration of a whole people, who were enraptured
with it, was nothing but a false one.
What a powerful effect of the majesty of beards! but what a subject of
comparison for our manners! How many revered sages, great geniuses,
extolled heroes, and lords of high renown, are like this beard! It is
some consolation however, that the homage of the gulled citizens is
always the satire of the delusion by which they were deceived: the truth
comes out sooner or later; and then all the honour of it is clearly
perceived to belong to some particular virtue or talent, or a long
beard.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAP. VII.
_Of GOLDEN BEARDS._
MEN have, in all ages, thought to honour the objects of their regard, or
of their worship, by endeavouring to embellish them. But the means which
they have employed, whilst they do honour to their zeal, have often
given a proof of their bad taste. Because gold is so much valued among
us, we thought for a long time, that nothing else could be truly
ornamental. Luxury and devotion have both displayed it with profusion;
but riches do not constitute beauty. What was intended to be decorated
is in fact debased. This abuse, which reigned particularly in the times
of ignorance, has even exercised its power over the beard. Oriental pomp
presents us at once with an example of this mistaken pride. Several
potentates of those countries interwove the hair on their chin with gold
thread and spangles. It is not without indignation that St. Chrysostom
tells us of a king of Persia, who, in his time, followed this ridiculous
custom. After reproaching the extravagant luxury of the fair-sex of
Antioch, this evangelical doctor says: “If I should give you an account
of a sort of luxury still more absurd than that of those women, who wear
gold in their hair, load their lips and eye-brows with it, who, in
short, are covered all over with this precious metal; don’t think I want
to raise a laugh: what I am going to relate to you exists at this day;
it is the king of Persia I mean to speak of. This monarch is not ashamed
to wear a golden beard; all the hair of his chin is covered or
interwoven with little plates of gold or threads of the same metal. This
prince, with his face thus adorned, looks more like a monster than a
man.”[45]
Footnote 45:
_Johannis Chrysostomi, in Epistolam ad Collossenses, Comment._ cap.
iii. Homilia 8.
This is not the sole example of this ridiculous ostentation: France,
which, as all the world knows, has furnished models of extravagance in
so many different lines, has not passed over this; it appears even that
it had a tolerable long run. Several historians agree in saying, that
the kings of the first race prided themselves in wearing a long beard
all interwoven and set off with ribbands, and enriched with spangles and
gold and silver threads. Whether this mode subsisted from the time of
the first race of kings, or was brought from Asia during the crusades,
it is certain, that, in the reign of Lewis XI. there is another example
of it, which was followed only in imitation of a more ancient mode.
The continuator of Monstrelet relates, that, at the funeral of the duke
of Burgundy, who was killed at the battle of Nancy in 1476, the duke of
Lorrain, his vanquisher, appeared with a false golden beard, in the same
manner as the ancient knights. “He was,” says the historian, “dressed in
mourning, and had a long, golden beard that reached down to his middle,
_in commemoration of the ancient worthies_, and of the victory which he
had gained over him.”
I am of St. Chrysostom’s opinion, that a golden beard is a hideous
thing; that, so far from the gold’s heightening its natural beauties, it
only degrades them. Nature is like virtue, it pleases without dazzling.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAP. VIII.
_Of WHISKERS._
THERE are no bounds for the objects that are subject to human
fickleness: every thing changes, all gives way to the whim of fashion,
the beard is a proof of it. This ornament of man, which the Divinity
placed on his face to mark more particularly the different periods of
his life, and be the sign of the most precious faculties of humankind,
has not escaped the common law, but been indistinctly subject to that of
our capricious instability. The beard, which is the honour of manhood,
and what St. Clement of Alexandria boldly calls _the procreative beauty,
the ingenuous beauty_, has passed through all the degrees of increase
and diminution. Whiskers are a sort of diminutive, one of those
intermediate states which preceded its triumph, or defeat. This
modification of the beard, spite of its feeble existence, holds
notwithstanding a rank in history, and merits to be mentioned.[46]
Footnote 46:
Some authors attribute the honour of inventing whiskers to the
Arabians. Plutarch, in his life of Theseus, gives the glory of it to
the Abantes, an ancient people of the isle of Euboe, which we call
Negropont, of whom Herodotus makes honourable mention, book i. chap.
146. As the Abantes were a very war-like people, they shaved all the
forepart of their head, in order that their enemies might have nothing
to lay hold of in fight; and at the same time they let their hair grow
out on the back part, to show them they were not afraid of being taken
in flight. _Recherches fur la barbe, par le P. Oudin, Jesuite._
Whiskers have been worn in war, in order to fright the enemy by a
terrible countenance. This is what Cæsar observed formerly in the
ancient Britons. It is said likewise that the Goths and Franks shaved
their beards, all except the upper lip, which they called _crista_. The
Gauls, intimidated at first by the appearance of their vanquishers,
admitted afterwards this custom; and, under the first race of French
monarchs, if we except the kings and princes, who, like the emperors,
let their beards grow out entirely, the people wore only whiskers. This,
without doubt, is the origin of the custom which we have at this day, as
well as most of the nations of Europe, for soldiers to wear this
ornament.
As a beardless face is a sign of puerility and weakness, so is a bearded
chin of virility and prudence; in like manner whiskers, which hold the
middle between these two extremes, announce youth and desires. The Turks
and modern Greeks are so convinced of this truth, that, ’till the age of
thirty, they wear only whiskers, an epoch at which they let their beards
grow out entirely.
In every age, and among every people, it has received a different form;
but in whatever manner it was made use of, or were the aim of those who
wore this mark of virility, it is beyond a doubt, that when it is
advantageously arranged, and gracefully turned up, it gives a stately,
vigorous, fiery look, which characterises the young man, and is not
displeasing to the ladies.
Among the European nations that have been most curious in beards and
whiskers, we shall distinguish Spain. This grave, romantic nation has
always regarded the beard as the ornament which should be most prized;
and the Spaniards have often made the loss of honour consist in that of
their whiskers. The Portuguese, whose national character is much the
same, are not the least behind them in that respect. In the reign of
Catharine, queen of Portugal, the brave John de Custro had just taken in
India the castle of Diu: victorious, but in want of every thing, he
found himself obliged to ask the inhabitants of Goa to lend him a
thousand pistoles for the maintenance of his fleet; and, as a security
for that sum, he sent them one of his whiskers, telling them: “All the
gold in the world cannot equal the value of this natural ornament of my
valour, and I deposit it in your hands as a security for the money.” The
whole town was penetrated with this heroism, and every one interested
himself about this invaluable whisker: even the women were desirous to
give marks of their zeal for so brave a man: several sold their
bracelets to increase the sum asked for, and the inhabitants of Goa sent
him immediately both the money and his whisker. A number of other
examples of this kind might be produced, which do as much honour to
whiskers, as to the good faith of those days.