fant, to the last, faint struggle of the dying man, these mystic chords are ever vibrating, to each breath of emotion, and each ruder gust of passion.

over the whole

Here is a delineation of one of the nerves of expression, coming out before each ear, and diverging face:

The truth of these statements has been established by actual experiment. An eminent surgeon once divided the respiratory nerve on one side of a monkey's face; strange results followed; one side of Pug's visage, kept on, wriggling, chattering, grinning and scowling, as impudently as ever, while the other maintained all the gravity of a Turk. Sepa

rate this nerve in a dog, and though he will fight as bitterly as ever, there will be no retraction of his lips, no flashing of his eye. A person, whose nerves become impaired or destroyed by disease, laughs audibly but not visibly, and furnishes the only instance of a laugh with unruffled sobriety. The general system of nerves sustains the same relation to the development of our affections, that the organs of sense do to those conceptions which correspond to the qualities of the material world; without them, we might hear and see, but those emotions which vivify and humanize thoughts and actions, could never be awakened.

Depending upon the peculiar sensibility of the heart, is an extensive apparatus of muscles; so a mental state produces a sensation in the heart, and through the physical connection, this, the acting agent, and that, the controlling principal, the complicate and beautiful machinery is put in motion. While the muscles employed in speaking, are instruments of expression, there are other muscles, also, peculiar to man, which are continually speaking out the secrets of the tenant within. Man, then, from the very structure of his frame, evinces the possession of something higher and nobler than mere animal intelligence; for he not only has nerves and muscles, emphatically his own, but he combines in his constitution, the peculiar excellencies of the two great classes* of animals.

From the preceding explanation of the nerves, you will readily understand why real grief affects the breathing; why the utterance is hurried and imperfect; why the muscles of the throat are affected with spasms, and why the lips and nos. trils quiver under its influence; you will understand why fear blanches the cheek, and a sense of shame suffuses the whole

Carnivorous and gramnivorous,

face with crimson, which in the language of the old cynic,* is virtue's own color.

Whoever looks around upon the circle of his acquaintance, will not fail to perceive that those who are the most endeared to him, and whose countenances are the most agreeable, are not those who are abstractly beautiful, possessing regular features, or fair complexion, or symmetrical form. The countenance is a lantern, and when illumined by the noble sentiments of a cultivated intellect, and the pure affections of a gentle spirit, it is truly beautiful; and as with the lantern, we see the lines and figures that adorn it, only as the lamp within, shines through them, so we see the lineaments of the countenance to the best advantage, when the imprisoned soul shines forth, giving expression and life to its lines.

As the plastic material of the statuary, indurates into a permanent expression, beneath the touches of his genius, so the living countenance gradually assumes that fixed and settled expression, which enables us to determine the cast of soul within.

Here are two visible illustrations of this:

No one, not even the child, needs the least word of advice,

* Diogenes.

relative to the choice of a companion; a language more conclusive than words, endears him to the one, with a power which only finds a parallel in the fear and abhorrence with which he would shrink from the other. How striking the contrast! The mildly-beaming eye, the softened cheek, the open brow, and the calm, sweet expression of the mouth, in the one; and the deep lines of passion, the demoniac eye and the disheveled hair in the other, cannot possibly be misunderstood.

"She reminds me of Eve, before the Almighty infused the breath of life into her," is the remark once made by a gentleman, on seeing a lady of faultless symmetry of features, but sadly deficient in expression; a remark, though rather harsh, involving much truth. To resort to the simile of the lantern, if it is dark, the presumption is, that there is little light within; in other words, little feeling, little soul.

It was remarked that this language is common both to man and the inferior animals. This, every one has seen in the flashing eye, or the retracted lip of the canine race; in the arching, bristling back of the cat, the laid back ears of the ill-tempered horse, and the mild, intelligent eye of the elephant, and the dog. One would think that my artist considered the case a difficult one to make out, from the specimen of humanity which he has sketched below; the head of an idiot.

I had thought of proposing a question, relative to the

comparative superiority of expression in an ordinary human countenance, and a Newfoundland dog, but query or comment is unnecessary, and I pass them over in silence.

The eye, too, has been the theme of the philosopher, and the bard, and a worthy one it is. Through its crystal orb, the light of intellect shines the clearest, if it shines at all; through this the soul can speak, when words are denied, and the tongue falters. Who has not read and felt its language? No matter in what unseemly mold the features may have been cast; no matter how dark the tinge which summer suns may have given them; no matter how harshly the voice may grate upon the ear; whether it rumbles like distant thunder, or shrieks and breaks like the noise of a file, or assumes the dissonant alto of the toothless crone; if this light of the features is there; if

"That pure, though captive effluence of the sky,

The vestal-ray, the spark that can not die,"

gleams out in this glorious mirror of the soul; THIS possession redeems them all. We may turn to the features and be repulsed, but we look upon the eye and are fascinated; we turn to the former, and a light and a beauty radiating from the latter, lend them a grace and glory, not their own. In the apostrophe of Mrs. Hemans:

"Throne of expression! whence the spirit's ray
Pours forth so oft the light of mental day,
Where fancy's fire, affection's melting beam,
Thought, genius, passion, reign in turn supreme,
And many a feeling, words can ne'er impart,
Finds its own language to pervade the heart;
Thy power, bright orb, what bosom hath not felt,
To thrill, to rouse, to fascinate, to melt?
And by some spell of undefined control,

With magnet-influence touch the secret soul !"