Since this idea struck me, Mr. John Marshall, in a lecture at the Government School of Practical Art, has remarked, “that nature leaves nothing but what is beautiful uncovered, and that the masculine chin is seldom sightly, because it was _designed to be covered_, while the chins of women are generally beautiful.” This view he supported by instancing, “that the bear, the rabbit, the cat, and the bird, are hideous to look upon when deprived of their hairy and feathery decorations: but the horse, the greyhound, and other animals so sparingly covered that the shape remains unaltered by the fur, are beautiful even in their naked forms.” This argument, it seems to me, applies with greater force to the various ages of man. In the babe, the chin is exceedingly soft, and its curve blends into those of the face and neck: in the boy it still retains a feminine gentleness of line, but as he advances to the youth, the bones grow more and more prominent, and the future character begins to stamp itself upon the form: at the approach of manhood, the lines combining with those of the mouth become more harsh, angular, and decided; in middle age, various ugly markings establish themselves about both, which in age are rendered not only deeper, but increased in number by the loss of the teeth and the falling in of the lips, which of course distorts all the muscles connected with the mouth. Such, however, is the force of prejudice founded on custom, that people who sink themselves to the ears in deep shirt collars, and to the chin in starched cravat and stiffened stock, muffle themselves in comforters till their necks are as big as their waists; nay do not demur some of them to be seen in that abomination of ugliness—that huge black patch of deformity—a respirator, have still sufficient face left to tell us that the expression of the countenance would be injured by restoring the Beard!