1827.] [ 593 ] 



A DISSERTATION ON BEARDS, HISTORICAL AND LITERARY. 



BY AN EMERTTUS PROFESSOR OF SHAVING. 



Beatrice. Lord! I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face. I had rather lie in the 

 woollen. 



Lconatus. You may light upon a husband that hath no beard. 



Beatrice. What should I do with him? Dress him in my apparel, and make him my waiting gen- 

 tlewoman ? He that hath a baard is more than a youth and he that hath no beard is less than a man ; 

 and he that is more than a youth is not for me; and he that is less than a man, 1 am not for him. 



Much ado about Nothing. Act II. Scene I. 



I HAVE often thought that the history of fashions would form a very 

 curious and interesting volume. It would give us a more direct insight 

 into the manners and customs of our ancestors in domestic life, than we 

 can ever hope to attain by viewing them in the trim and formal habits 

 with which historians have invested them. It would enable us to trace 

 with accuracy the variations of taste in different generations, and would 

 serve as a barometer, to determine the degrees of civilization, at which they 

 had arrived at different periods of their progress from barbarism to refine- 

 ment. As their dresses changed from skins to silks, we should see their 

 manners changing from brutality to elegance; and we should thus hold 

 up to the philosopher and to the tailor a new and instructive view of 

 human nature. I despair, however, of seeing such a history, written as it 

 ous;ht to be, because the mind of the philosopher, and the eye of the tailor, 

 seldom centre in the same individual. To be a tailor by trade, and an 

 author by profession, is a destiny which has not befallen many of our 

 species. Mr. Place is the only living person within my knowledge, who, 

 writing with the pen in one hand, and stitching with the needle in the 

 other, has been equally sharp and pungent with both. If he would under- 

 take the work which I have suggested, the world would be his debtor; 

 and, as the researches into which j must inevitably lead him, would tend 

 to his improvement, both as a fashioner of books and as a fashioner of gar- 

 ments, he would suffer no loss by the employment, but might return, at 

 the completion of it, with redoubled zeal, to his usual occupation of patch- 

 ing up the costume and the constitution of his country. 



It is my misfortune not to be a tailor. If I had ever had the honour of 

 sitting cross-legged on a shop-board, I would have myself attempted the 

 task, which I now call upon Mr. Place, if he has any love for the works of 

 the thimble, to execute without delay. Had I been brought up at the 

 feet of some illustrious fabricator, amid the steaming odours of goose and 

 cabbage, I would have taken pattern by honest Stowe, and would have 

 chronicled the/uffs, and tufts, and taffetas of former beaux, in all the pomp 

 of historic narrative. I would also have endeavoured to catch some of the 

 indescribable graces which my friend B , who manufactures cashmeres 

 and criticisms for the blue-stockings of Paris, has thrown over his erudite 

 history of shawls ; and, though I might not, like him, have gained success 

 by my performance, I would have deserved it, like him, by industry and 

 perseverance. But alas ! I repeat again, I am no tailor. I am there- 

 fore, utterly unqualified to describe the strange, and numberless, and 

 evanescent shades in the alteration of fashions, and am consequently 

 unfit to immortalize the daring fancies and creative needles of the Places 

 and Stulzes of former generations. But, though I cannot perform all 

 that I wish, I will not shrink from contributing all that I can towards the 

 historic labour which I have just projected, and which, I trust, some 



MM. New Series. VOL. IV^. No. 24. 4G 



