Habits and men, with remnants of record touching the makers of bothDoran, Dr. (John)
Philosophy
Habits and men, with remnants of record touching the makers of both
Doran, Dr. (John)
Manners and customs
the Bear Garden, and letting off fireworks, the periwig philosopher, with
his wife, Lady Penn, Pegg and Nan Wright, kept it up at Mrs. Mercer’s
after midnight; “and there, mighty merry, smutting one another with
candle-grease and soot, until most of us were like devils. And that being
done, then we broke up, and to my house, and there I made them drink; and
up stairs we went and then fell into dancing, W. Battelier dancing well;
and dressing him and I, and one Mr. Banister, who, with my wife, came
over also with us, like women; and Mercer put on a suit of Tom’s, like a
boy. And Mr. Wright, and my wife, and Pegg Penn put on periwigs, and thus
we spent till three or four in the morning, mighty merry;”—and little
troubled with the thought whether the skull which had afforded the hair
for such periwig were lying in the pest-fields or not.
By the following year, our rising gentleman grows extravagant in his
outlay for such adornments; and he who had been content to wear a wig at
23_s._ buys now a pair for £4. 10_s._,—“mighty fine; indeed too fine,
I thought, for me.” And yet, amazingly proud was the macaroni of his
purchase, recording two days afterwards, that he had been “to church,
and, with my mourning, very handsome; and new periwig made a great show.”
Doubtless, under James II., his periwigged pate made a still greater
show; for then had wigs become stupendous in their architecture. The
beaux who stood beneath them, as I have stated in another page, carried
exquisite combs in their ample pockets, with which, whether in the Mall,
at the rout, in the private box, or engaged in the laborious work of
“making love,” they ever and anon combed their periwigs, and rendered
themselves irresistible.
Even at that period, Wisdom was thought to be beneath the Wig. “A full
wig,” says Farquhar in his ‘Love and a Bottle’ (1698), “is as infallible
a token of wit as the laurel;” an assertion which I should never think of
disputing.
Tillotson is the first of our clergy represented in a wig, and _that_
a mere substitute for the natural head of hair. “I can remember,” he
says, in one of his sermons, “since the wearing of the hair below the
ears was looked upon as a sin of the first magnitude; and when ministers
generally, whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion
to reprove the great sin of long hair; and if they saw any one in the
congregation guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly,
and _let fly at him_ with great zeal.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account