A word, therefore, on the expression of Bearded faces. The works of the Greeks,[4] the paintings of the old Masters, but above all the productions of the pencil of Raphael, justly styled “the Painter of Expression,” is a sufficient general answer to this ill-considered charge. It would indeed be strange if He who made the male face, and fixed the laws of every feature—clothing it with hair, as with a garment, should in this last particular have made an elaborate provision to mar the excellency of His own work! Nothing indeed but the long effeminizing of our faces could have given rise to the present shaven ideal—to the forgetfulness of the true standard of masculine beauty of expression, which is naturally as antipodal as the magnetic north and south poles, to that of female loveliness, where delicacy of line, blushing changeable colour, and eyes that win by seeming not to wish it, are charms we all feel, and at the same time understand how inappropriate they are when applied to the opposite sex; where the bold enterprizing brow—the deep penetrating eye—the daring, sagacious nose, and the fleshy but firm mouth, well supported on the decided projecting chin, proclaim a being who has an appointed path to tread, and hard rough work to do, in this world of difficulties and ceaseless transition. Footnote 4: Elmes says, “The Beard in Art has an ideal character as an attribute, and distinguished by its undulating curl the Beard of Jupiter Olympius from that of Jupiter Serapis (who has a longer and straighter Beard) the lank Beard of Neptune and the river Gods, from the short and frizzly Beards of Hercules, Ajax, Diomede, Ulysses, &c.”