[7]. At the last procession of Captives, at Paris in 1785, the manly, noble air of those that wore long beards was greatly admired; nevertheless, these were slaves.
It has always been esteemed in all nations; those people, to whom nature, too sparing of her favours, has denied this characteristical mark of our sex, the Laplander, the Japonese, and especially the American, whose beardless chins made people doubt a long time if they were men, are sensible of the imperfection of their constitution and temperature of body. The Chinese regard the Europeans as the first people on earth, on account of their thick beards; and though nature has been so sparing to them in this mark of virility, yet they are particularly attentive in cherishing what little they have. Both the Lacedemonians[[8]] and Egyptians have considered it as a mark of wisdom. In order to obtain a favour among the Greeks, it was only to touch the beard of him that could grant it, to insure success.[[9]]
[8]. Nicander replied to some-one who asked him why the Lacedemonians wore long hair and let their beards grow out: Because, said he, it’s the finest ornament that a man can wear, and which costs least and becomes him most.
PLUTARCH.
[9]. Antiquis Græciæ in supplicanda mentum attingere mos erat.
PLIN. lib. ii. cap. 45.
The beard was not solely the mark of philosophy, but became likewise the pledge of the most sacred oaths and promises. It has been sometimes the object of the gravest discussions and most particular attention of a number of learned men; nay, most of the legislators of the world have not thought it beneath their notice.
The most celebrated ancient writers, and several modern ones, have spoken honourably of the finest beards of antiquity. Homer speaks highly of the white beard of Nestor and that of old king Priam. Virgil describes Mezentius’s to us, which was so thick and long as to cover all his breast; Chrysippus praises the noble beard of Timothy, a famous player on the flute. Pliny the younger tells us of the white beard of Euphrates, a Syrian philosopher; and he takes pleasure in relating the respect mixed with fear with which it inspired the people. Plutarch speaks of the long, white beard of an old Laconian, who, being asked why he let it grow so, replied: ’Tis, that, seeing continually my white beard, I may do nothing unworthy of its whiteness. Strabo relates, that the Indian philosophers, the Gymnosophists, were particularly attentive to make the length of their beards contribute to captivate the veneration of the people. Diodorus, after him, gives a very particular and circumstantial history of the beards of the Indians. Juvenal does not forget that of Antilocus, the son of Nestor. Fenelon, in describing a priest of Apollo in all his magnificence, tells us, that he had a white beard down to his girdle. But Perseus seems to outdo all these authors: this poet was so convinced that a beard was the symbol of wisdom, that he thought he could not bestow a greater encomium on the divine Socrates, than by calling him the bearded master, Magistrum barbatum.
Several other writers have treated of this subject. Voltaire often touches on it in his voluminous writings. The author of the Modes françoises has bestowed many pages on it; the learned Don Calmet has not thought this subject beneath his attention, on which he has written a particular work, intituled Histoire de la barbe de l’homme. The Italians have a modern work, intitled: Barbalogia del Caval. Valeriano Vanetti, 1760. This Vanetti, after giving an account of the revolutions which beards have undergone, enters into a very learned and serious dissertation on the various manners in which they were worn among the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans; but the most obscure and least authenticated part of his work is that where he warmly maintains, against Van-Helmont, that Adam was created with a beard on his chin. I readily confess I have not carried my inquiries so far into remote antiquity. In the 16th century there were a great number of works published on the beard, of which I shall have occasion to speak in another place.
But the most extraordinary account in the history of beards is that given by Titus Livius. Infinitely better than the eloquence of a Demosthenes or the courage of an Alexander could have done, did the beard suspend on a sudden the ferocity of a people of barbarians thirsty of the blood of their enemies.