592 
The Human Face. 
[October, 
It would be a long subject to discuss the features oi the 
different ages in English history and speculate upon them, 
and perhaps foreign to this journal. It is this feeling we 
have, this recognition of a fact, that hurts our fancies to see 
an ugly artist, a handsome slave, and sometimes to wonder 
at the beautiful eyes some of our domestic animals possess. 
We find an innate pleasure in gazing on a handsome face. 
The above causes, no doubt, have lent a diversity to the 
face of woman, which reacts on the man. The favourite 
type is “ married up ” in excess of others, and effectually 
impressed on the race. To this we may trace, probably, the 
widely diverged races of men, the Mongol, the Negro, the 
European, &c. The transmission of the family likeness, 
paternally and maternally, is interesting to reflex on. That 
was a scandalous remark, to me, I read, I think, in your 
journal, about the passing admirations of a mother being 
stamped on her children’s faces. Why is not the husband, 
the favourite brother, the sister, the mother, father, &c., 
oftener reproduced, if that be the case — with the double 
chance ? It is remarkable, though, that the eldest child 
seems very often to retain the strongest family likeness. 
But the strong likeness of brothers and sisters is an argu- 
ment against it. Perhaps this is largely owing to their 
catching each other’s expressions of countenance ; and this 
again explaining why the “ younger end ” often differ so 
decidedly from their elders — lack of association. This same 
thing applies to nations ; hence the force of the child’s 
remark, “ all Frenchmen seem to grin alike.” A national 
contortion. 
One would like to have seen the face of the Persians who 
made it part of their education to “ speak the truth.” We 
could have seen it ! Was the Spartan stern in aspect who 
lived for his country’s good ? Was Deborah a Jewess in 
her look ? Can we not read Byron’s poetry in his face, 
and the heaviness of pondering judgments in Hallam’s ? 
Do you doubt, as you look at Nero’s face, that he could 
fiddle whilst Rome burnt ? And so on ; a man’s mind 
shines out of his countenance, the face in repose, or un- 
animated, is the generality of that individual’s mind. And 
so we turn to look on the faces around us to-day. Are not 
the majority mere livers — mere nonentities ? These will 
not remain in history, but they will form the nation’s 
destiny ! 
Our souls were filled with sadness when we found inanity 
behind a lovely face. Nature lied to us ! Do the choice 
minority conquer in the long run ? It is one long fight, 
