I WONDER whether many People, on reviewing their past Lives, feel as I do on looking back on mine; that, had they had the ordering the outward Circumstances connected with them beforehand, such as Time, Place, Health, Sickness, Friends, Acquaintances, and such-like Conditions, they could not have arranged them half so well as they have been disposed for them. When I fall into a Muse on the Past, the Moments fly so swiftly that I am lost in Amazement when I find how the Time has slipped by while thus pleasantly employed. And yet many of the Arrangements which were made for me by a greater Wisdom than mine, were such as at the Time were far from agreeable to me; nay, were sometimes so repugnant to Flesh and Blood as to nourish rebellious Thoughts, and call forth Showers of Tears. And still the Process went on; as I now see, all for my Good.
My Father married my Mother in the Spring of the Year 1632: being then in the Prime of Life, a personable, charming-looking Man, though small of Stature, and with a Nose somewhat awry. In his Conditions he was ever most lovely; of a sweet Temper, shrewd Observance, stout Heart, and lively Wit. Many, no Doubt, had read more, by reason of their Opportunities; but what few Books he knew, he turned to Profit, and perhaps no Man concocted his Reading into Judgment better than he; by which he became so judicious and oracular, as that though he could not indeed prophesy, he could presage; and some of his Presages came true and others not, but might have done so, had Events taken but in a very slight Degree a different Course. He knew how to sound his Customers, and suck the Marrow of their Knowledge, while keeping his own Counsel: but this was his Prudence, not Pusillanimity, for I have heard it remarked by one who knew him well, that the Trojan Horse was not more full of Valour than he, for so small a Man. Being a Hair-dresser, this was not so evident in him as if he had been a Soldier; but yet every Man’s Life affords Occasions, as my Father’s certainly did, of showing what is in him and what is not.
In Dress, his Taste was excessive neat, and yet gaudy; so that on Sundays, when he appeared in what he called his Marigold-and-Poppy, with his Hair, which Men then wore very long, combed down in large smooth Curls, his laced Collar nicely ironed, his Beaver well brushed, and his Shoes shining like Coals ... it would have been difficult to find a Grain of Fault with him, save that, as my Cousin Mark was wont to say, the Colours of his Suit did too much swear at one another. For my own Part, I always had an Impression that he was an excessive well-looking Man, not out of any Prejudice, but downright Prepossession; and yet my dear Mother, who I am sure loved him truly, always said to me when I alluded to the Subject, “My Dear, the Qualities of his Person were always far exceeded by those of his Mind.”
Of my Cousin Mark, who was my Father’s Apprentice, there could not be two Opinions. He was winsome, lightsome, debonair; of most comely Person and Aspect: we were all very proud of him, and he of himself. If he had a Fault, it was thinking too much of himself and too little of others; but this is so common that I do not know I am justified in particularizing it. Also he was somewhat of a Coward, not in respect of personal, animal Courage, of which I suppose he had as much as the aforesaid Trojan Horse, whatever that might be; but morally cowardly, as to what would be thought of him by others, and dreading the Evil of the present Moment, and so forth; which Men don’t think so bad a kind of Cowardice as the other, but I do.
But his Temper was most sweet: his Manners most engaging. Oh! how much he came to be thought of, at length, all along the Bridge! I have no other Fault to find in him besides those already reckoned; unless it were a general Want of Principle, which was less apparent than it would have been, had it not been covered rather than supplied by good Feeling. But ’tis ill reckoning the Faults of one’s Friends.
Of my Mother, how shall I say enough? She was tall, slender, and comely to look upon, with sweet and quick grey Eyes. She was naturally of a high Spirit, which had been brought under a Curb by Divine Grace. She was kind and obliging to all, stirring and thrifty, yet not niggardly; soft-hearted to the Poor, of wonderful Propriety without the least Priggishness, loved by her Friends, and especially in her own Family. Now I have counted up the whole House except our Lodger, Master Blower, and Dolly, the Cook.
My Father’s shop was on the east side of London Bridge
My Father’s Shop was on the east Side of London Bridge. Over his Door hung his Sign of “The Lock of Hair;” and over the Shop-front was painted in yellow Letters the following Inscription,—
“Peter Curling sells all Sorts of Hair, Curled or Uncurled, Roses, Braids, Cauls, Ribbons, Weaving, Sewing-silk, Cards, and Blocks. Together with Combs, Crisping-pins, Perfumery, and all other Goods made use of by Tonsors and Hairdressers, at the Lowest Prices.”