About the same time also in Germany the moustache was partially substituted for the Beard, as appears by Berckemej’s Europ. Antiq. p. 294, who under the year 1564 says, the Archbishop Sigismund introduced in Magdeburgh the custom of shaving off the full Beard and wearing instead a moustache. The year in which this Beard-reformation (de-formation?) happened, was contained in this pentameter— “Longa sIgIsMVnDo barba IVbente perIt.” “Sigismund commanding, the long Beard perished in MDLVV (= X) IIII. or 1564.” A feeble reflection of some of the heads of this period were exhibited on the walls of the lecture room, as the sagacious Burleigh; the adventurous Raleigh; the rash but brave Essex; Nottingham, the High Admiral who scattered the Armada; Gresham the Merchant Prince, who found his Beard no hindrance to business; and the Poet of Poets, whether ancient or modern, Shakspeare. As might be expected, the dramatic literature of the time is full of allusions to that feature which men still honored and admired. Lear can find no more pathetic outburst of insulted majesty, in addressing his vile daughter Goneril, than the words— “Art not ashamed to look upon this Beard?” and when Regan insults the faithful Gloster, the latter exclaims— “By the kind Gods! ’Tis most ignobly done To pluck me by the Beard!” In a more mocking humour, Shakspeare makes Cressida say of Troilus’s chin, “alas poor chin! many a wart is richer!” And Rosalind to Orlando, “I will pardon you for not having a neglected Beard, for truly your having in Beard is a younger brother’s revenue.” Then as characteristics, we have the black, white, straw-colored, orange-tawney, purple-in-grain, and perfect yellow. The soldier Bearded like a pard; the justice with Beard of formal cut; the sexton’s hungry Beard; and the Beard of the general’s cut; and that fine passage, which you will pardon my quoting, if only to supply an obvious correction naturally lost sight of by _Beardless_ commentators. If instead of the puerile conceit, _stairs_ of sand, we read _layers_ of sand, we not only restore metaphorical beauty but literal truth; for what is more deceitful than a layer of sand, and the Beard is “a layer of hair.” “There is no one so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts; How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false As _layers_ of sand, wear yet upon their chins The Beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, Who, inward searched, have livers white as milk: And these assume but valour’s excrement To make themselves redoubted.”[29] Footnote 29: