THE HAIR. 277 



and energy crisp the hair like wire. Prolific and young-blooded 

 races like the Negro, are woolly as sheep ; old and decaying tribes, 

 such as the American Indians, are lank and drooping in their locks. 

 Life throws the hair as a substantial shadow around the principal 

 organs, to which it offers a native contrast, forming the colored 

 complement of their grace. Whatever shadow is required comes by 

 this rule : red hair is the contrast in keeping with one complexion, 

 and black hair with another. The background is not only itself 

 expressive, but in harmony with the portrait j the sun-faced day is 

 set and framed in its own casket of night. 



Did space allow, it would here be proper to make a brief excur- 

 sion into the wild-wood nature, to note the fertility of the skin as it 

 undulates over the plains of animal existence. What is wonderful, 

 that demure thing, the cuticle, when applied to lower lives, breaks 

 into a sportiveness that amuses belief. Scale in the fish, coil in the 

 serpent, feather in the bird, many-colored coat woolly or hairy in 

 the quadruped, impenetrable mail in the pachyderm, it shows on a 

 mighty arena what are its delicate and silent uses in the human 

 body. But we must not be led into the pleasant ark of zoology. 

 Suffice it however that these properties are represented in man also, 

 whose fine tact, and its sober instrument, terminate in arts that beat 

 the feathered wing in flight, and outdo the fur in warmth, and the 

 mail in protection ; and his model skin stands inwards unspent the 

 while ; and all is there in its prolific source, which ifs doled out in 

 strict though bountiful measure to the poor unalterable animals. 



We recur, however, to the function of the skin as expressing the 

 mind, and as being, with the Sovereign Artist the canvas of the 

 beauty of the world. This beauty, they tell us truly, is only skin- 

 deep, but none of them has told what is the depth of the skin. At 

 all events it must gauge to profound realms, for it brings the whole 

 man to the surface. Moreover, it is not in fact made up of two 

 layers, but cuticle and cutis are artificial productions, conveniences 

 of books, the work of men's hands. The human countenance 

 especially is the painted stage and natural robing room of the soul. 

 It is no single, double or triple dress, but wardrobes of costumes 

 innumerable. Our seven ages have their liveries there, of every 

 dye and cut from the cradle to the bier : ruddy cheeks, merry dim- 

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