Ancient plays abound with allusions to the barber’s citterne, or lute, upon which not only he himself, and his apprentices were accustomed to play, but all the loiterers in the tonstrina. Much of all this may be found, in the Glossary of Archdeacon Nares, under the article Citterne, and in Fosbroke’s Antiquities.

The commonness of its use gave rise to a proverb. In the Silent Woman, Act II., scene 2, Ben Jonson avails of it. Morose had married a woman, recommended by his barber, and whose fidelity he suspected, and the following passage occurs, between Morose and Truewit. Lond., 1816, iii. 411.

Upon this passage is the following note—“It appears from innumerable passages, in our old writers, that barbers’ shops were furnished with some musical instrument, commonly a cittern or guitar, for the amusement of such customers as chose to strum upon it, while waiting for their turn to be shaved, &c. It should be recollected, that the patience of customers, if the shop was at all popular, must, in those tedious days of love-locks, and beards of most fantastical cuts, have been frequently put to very severe trials. Some kind of amusement therefore was necessary, to beguile the time.”In old times, in old England, barbers were in the habit of making a variety of noises, with their fingers and their shears, which noises were supposed to be agreeable to their customers. Fosbroke, p. 414, refers to Lily’s old play of Mydas, iii. 2, as showing the existence of the custom, in his time. Lily was born about 1553. There were some, who preferred to be shaved and dressed quietly. Nares, in his Glossary, refers to Plutarch, De Garrulitate, for an anecdote of King Archelaus, who stipulated with his barber to shave him in silence. This barbers’ trick was called the “knack with the fingers;” and was extremely disagreeable to Morose, in Ben Jonson’s play, to which I have referred. Thus, in i. 2, Clerimont, speaking of the partiality of Morose for Cutbeard, the barber, says—“The fellow trims him silently, and has not the knack with his shears or his fingers: and that continence in a barber he thinks so eminent a virtue, as it has made him chief of his counsel.”

As barbers were brought first into Rome, from Sicily, so the best razors, according to Nares and Fosbroke, before the English began to excel in cutlery, were obtained in Palermo. Their form was unlike those now in use, and seems more perfectly to correspond with one of the Roman names, signifying a razor, i. e. culter. The blade, like that of a pruning knife, or sickle, curved slightly inward, the reverse of which is the modern form.

Smith, in his Ancient Topography of London, says—“The flying barber is a character now no more to be seen in London, though he still remains in some of our country villages: he was provided with a napkin, soap, and pewter basin, the form of which may be seen, in many of the illustrative prints of Don Quixote. His chafer was a deep leaden vessel, something like a chocolate pot, with a large ring or handle, at the top; this pot held about a quart of water, boiling hot; and, thus equipped, he flew about to his customers.”

Old Randle Holme says, “perawickes” were very common in his time, about 1668, though unused before “contrary to our forefathers, who wore their own hair.” A barber, in Paris, to recommend his bag wigs, hung over his door the sign of Absalom. Hone, i. 1262, states that a periwig-maker, to recommend his wares, turned the reason into rhyme:

“Oh, Absalom, oh Absalom,
Oh Absalom, my son,
If thou hadst worn a periwig,
Thou hadst not been undone.”Hutchinson, i. 152, says periwigs were an eyesore in New England, for thirty years after the Restoration of Charles II.

Among the Romans, after Mena introduced the practice of shaving, those, who professed philosophy, still maintained their dignity, and their beards, as an ecce signum. Hence the expression of Horace, Sat. ii. 3, 35, sapientem pascere barbam: and of Persius, iv. 1, when speaking of Socrates:

barbatum hÆc crede magistrum
Dicere, sorbitio tollit quem dira cicutÆ.

Of those, who wear beards, at the present day, it has been computed, that, for one philosopher, there are five hundred fools, at the very lowest estimate. Manage them as you will, they are troublesome appendages; of very questionable cleanliness; and mightily in the way of such, as are much addicted to gravy and spoon victual. Like the burden of our sins, the postprandial odor of them must be sometimes intolerable.

What an infinite variety of colors we have now-a-days! Bottom, in Midsummer Night’s Dream, i. 2, is in doubt, what beard he shall play Pyramus in, and, at last, he says—“I will discharge it in either your straw-colored beard, your orange tawny beard, your purple ingrain beard, or your French crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow.” Now I can honestly aver, that every fifth dandy I meet, looks precisely like Bottom, performing Pyramus. Now and then, I meet a fine, full, black beard; but, even then, it seems to me, that the proud satisfaction the fortunate proprietor must feel, in going about town with it, must be, in some degree, counterbalanced, by the necessity of sleeping in it, during the summer solstice.

The fancy colors, proposed by Bottom, refer to the dyes, in use, at the period, when Bottom flourished. Indeed, dyeing the beard is of the highest antiquity. I have no authority that Aaron dyed his. In 1653, John Bulwer published his “Anthropo-Metamorphosis,” or Artificial Changeling, a very able and curious production. For the antiquity of the silly practice of dyeing the beard, he refers to Strabo. Old John Bulwer, ch. ix., comments, with just severity, upon the conduct of those ancient fools, who adopt the practice—“In every haire of these old coxcombs, you shall meet with three divers and sundry colors; white at the roots, yellow in the middle, and black at the point, like unto one of your parrat’s feathers.” What a graphic description of this nasty appendage! It has ever been to me a matter of infinite surprise, how any mortal can presume to say his prayers, with one of these pied abominations on his chin; giving the lie direct to the volume of inspiration, which avers that he cannot make one hair black nor white.

Another mystery—how can any man’s better half become reconciled to a husband, dyed thus, in the wool! The colors are not all fast colors, I believe; and are liable to be rubbed off, by attrition.

Beards were cultivated, to such an excess, in Elizabeth’s time, as to require and receive a check from the legislature. “The growth of beards,” says Nares, in his Glossary, “was regulated by statute, at Lincoln’s Inn, in the time of Eliz.—Primo Eliz. it was ordered, that no fellow of that house should wear a beard above a fortnight’s growth. Transgression was punished with fine, loss of commons, and finally expulsion. But fashion prevailed, and in November, the following year, all previous orders, touching beards, were repealed.”

It was formerly calculated, by Lord Stanhope, that the sum, expended upon snuff, and the value of the time, consumed in taking it, and the cost of snuff-boxes, handkerchiefs, &c., if duly invested, would pay off the national debt. I have a proposal to offer, and I offer it, timidly and respectfully, for the consideration of those amiable females, who go about, so incessantly, doing good. Perhaps I may not be able to awaken their interest, more effectually, than by suggesting the idea, that here is a very fair opportunity, for the formation of another female auxiliary society. I take it for granted, that there are some of these bearded gentlemen, from whom contributions in money, could not easily be obtained, for any benevolent object. There are some, whose whole estate, real, personal, and mixed, comprehends very little, beyond a costly malacca joint, a set of valuable shirtstuds, and a safety chain. Still if we cudgel the doctrine of political economy, we may get some small contributions, even from them.

Cortez found, in the treasury of Montezuma, a multitude of little bags, which were, at last, discovered to be filled with dead lice. The Emperor, to keep the Mexican beggars out of mischief, had levied this species of tax. I am well aware, that the power of levying taxes is not vested in young ladies. They have certain, natural, inherent rights, however, and, among them, the right and the power of persuasion. Let them organize, throughout the Union, and establish committees of correspondence. Let them address a circular to every individual, who wears a beard; and, if their applications succeed, they will enjoy the luxury of supplying a comfortable hair mattrass, to every poor widow, and aged single woman in the United States.