upon his head, artificial teeth in his mouth,
and an artificial nose upon his face. A certain
money-lender, it is urged, acknowledged the
elevating power of beauty when he drew a
veil before the portrait of his favourite
picture, that he might not see the semblance of a
noble countenance, while he extorted his
crushing interest from desperate customers.
It is late in the age, say the pro-wig party,
to be called upon to urge the refining power
that dwells in the beautiful; and, on the other
hand, the depression and the coarseness which
often attend the constant contemplation of
things unsightly. The consciousness of giving
unpleasant sensations to spectators, haunts all
people who are visibly disfigured. The bald
man of five-and-twenty is an unpleasant
object; because premature baldness is unnatural
and ugly. Argue the question according to
the strictest rules of formal logic, and you will
arrive at nothing more than that the thing is
undoubtedly unpleasant to behold, and that
therefore some reason exists that should urge
men to remove it, or hide it. Undoubtedly, a
wig is a counterfeit of natural hair; but is it
not a counterfeit worn in deference to the
sense of the world, and with the view of
presenting an agreeable, instead of a disagreeable,
object? Certainly. A pinch of philosophy is
therefore sprinkled about a wig, and the
wearer is not necessarily a coxcomb. As
regards artificial teeth, stronger pleas—even than
those which support wigs—may be entered.
Digestion demands that food should be masticated.
Shall, then, a toothless person be forced
to live upon spoon-meat, because artificial
ivories are denounced as sinful? These questions
are fast coming to issue, for Science has
so far come to the aid of human nature, that
according to an enthusiastic professor, it will
be difficult, in the course of another century,
to tell how or where any man or woman is
deficient. A millennium for Deformity is, it
seems, not far distant. M. Boissonneau of
Paris, constructs eyes with such extraordinary
precision, that the artificial eye, we are told,
is not distinguishable from the natural eye.
The report of his pretensions will, it is to be
feared, spread consternation among those who
hold in abhorrence, and consider artificial
teeth incompatible with Christianity; yet the
fact must be honestly declared, that it is no
longer safe for poets to write sonnets about
the eyes of their mistresses, since those eyes
may be M. Boissonneau's.

The old rude artificial eyes are simply
oval shells, all made from one pattern, and
differing only in size and in colour. No
pretension to artistic or scientific skill has
been claimed by the artificial-eye manufacturer;
—he has made a certain number of
deep blues, light blues, hazels, and others,
according to the state of the eye-market.
These rude shells were constructed mainly
with the view of giving the wearer an
almond-shaped eye, and with little regard to its
matching the eye in sound and active service.
Artificial eyes were not made to order; but
the patient was left to pick out the eye he
would prefer to wear, as he would pick out a
glove. The manufacture was kept a profound
mystery, and few medical men had access to its
secrets. The manufacturers sold eyes by the
gross, to retail-dealers, at a low price; and
these supplied patients. Under this system,
artificial eyes were only applicable in the
very rare cases of atrophy of the globe; and
the effect produced was even more repulsive
than that of the diseased eye. The disease
was hidden by an unnatural and repulsive
expression, which it is difficult to describe.
While one eye was gazing intently in your
face, the other was fixed in another direction
—immovable, the more hideous because at
first you mistook it for a natural eye. A
smile may overspread the face, animate the lip,
and lighten up the natural eye; but there
was the glass eye—fixed, lustreless, and dead.
It had other disadvantages: it interfered with
the lachrymal functions, and sometimes caused
a tear to drop in the happiest moments.

The new artificial eye is nothing more
than a plastic skullcap, set accurately upon
the bulb of the diseased eye, so that it moves
with the bulb as freely as the sound eye.
The lids play freely over it; the lachrymal
functions continue their healthy action;
and the bulb is effectually protected from
currents of cold air and particles of dust.
But these effects can be gained only by
modelling each artificial eye upon the
particular bulb it is destined to cover; thus
removing the manufacture of artificial eyes from
the hands of clumsy mechanics, to the
superintendence of the scientific artist. Every
individual case, according to the condition of
the bulb, requires an artificial eye of a different
model from all previously made. In no two
cases are the bulbs found in precisely the
same condition; and, therefore, only the
scientific workman, proceeding on
well-grounded principles, can pretend to practise
ocular prothesis with success. The
newly-invented shell is of metallic enamel, which
may be fitted like an outer cuticle to the
bulb—the cornea of which is destroyed—and
restores to the patient his natural appearance.
The invention, however, will, we fear, increase
our scepticism. We shall begin to look in
people's eyes, as we have been accustomed to
examine a luxuriant head of hair, when it
suddenly shoots upon a surface hitherto
remarkable only for a very straggling crop.
Yet, it would be well to abate the spirit of
sarcasm with which wigs and artificial teeth
have been treated. Undoubtedly, it is more
pleasant to owe one's hair to nature than to
Truefit; to be indebted to natural causes for
pearly teeth; and to have sparkling eyes with
light in them. Every man and woman would
rather have an aquiline nose than the most
playful pug; no one would exchange eyes
agreeing to turn in one direction, for the
pertest squint; or legs observing something