fectly beautiful woman, and present her face thus
denuded of its native loveliness, though it were even she, the descended
from heaven, the born of the sea, the educated in the waves, though, I
say, it were Venus herself, attended by the Graces, surrounded by the
Loves, cinctured with her girdle, fragrant with spices, and dewy with
balsams, yet, if she appeared with a bald head, she could not please
even her own Vulcan. A woman's head shaved is a step towards a death's
head. As a symbol of grief it was not necessary to the case of Electra;
for in the sister tragedies of AEschylus and Sophocles her grief is
equally great, and she appears with flowing hair; but in them she is an
unmarried maid, and there is no dramatic necessity for so conspicuous an
antidote to her other charms. Neither is it according to custom; for in
recent grief the whole hair was sacrificed, but in the memory of an
old sorrow only one or two curls were cut off.{1} Therefore, it was the
dramatic necessity of a counter-charm that influenced Euripides. Helen
knew better than to shave her head in a case where custom required
it. Euripides makes Electra reproach Helen for thus preserving her
beauty;{2} which further illustrates his purpose in shaving the head of
Electra where custom did not require it. And Terence showed his taste
in not shaving the head of his heroine in the _Phormio_, though the
severity of Athenian custom would have required it. Her beauty shone
through her dishevelled hair, but with no hair at all she would not have
touched the heart of Antipho.

1 Sophocles: Electra, v. 449.

2 Euripides: Orestes, v. 128.

But wherefore does my mind discourse these things to me, suspending
dismal images on lovely realities? for the luxuriant hair of these young
girls is of no ordinary beauty. Their tresses have not been deposited
under the shadow of the sacred lotus, as Pliny tells us those of
the Vestals were. Well, this young gentleman's establishment may be
perfectly moral, strictly correct, but in one sense it is morality
thrown away: the world will give him no credit for it. I am sure Mrs.
Opimian will not. If he were married it would be different. But I think,
if he were to marry now, there would be a fiercer fire than Vesta's
among his Lares. The temple would be too hot for the seven virgins. I
suppose, as he is so resolute against change, he does not mean to marry.
Then he talks about anticipated disappointment in some unrealisab