ome excellent sentiments:--

"Though ev'ry man's a nat'ral right
To shew a moderate nose,
Yet surely 'tis a piece of spite
To spoil the world's repose.

'Tis wrong t' exhibit such a show,
Though you may think it fun
Yet still, good Sir, you little know
What evil it has done.

What quarrels have from hence begun!
What anger and what strife!
What blows have pass'd 'tween man and man!
What kicks 'tween man and wife!

No longer, then, thyself disgrace,
In quest of beauty's fame;
No longer, then, expose thy face,
To get thy nose a name.

Take it away, if thou art wise,
And keep it safe at home,
Amongst thy curiosities
Of ancient Greece and Rome."

Shakspeare would have thought it high treason, for he says,--

"Down with the nose, take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to forefend
_Smells_ from the general weal."

There may have been many other such noses that have escaped
observation,--"born to _blush_ unseen:" enough, however, I have here stated
of those my recollection furnishes me with at the moment, to establish the
fact of variety, and to lead curious physiologists to a scientific
classification of this _prominent_ and well-deserving feature of the human
face. I would recommend a proper distinction being observed between
functional varieties, and those which arise from size, shape, or colour, of
which, in a cursory way, may be enumerated first,--

_Shape._[9]

Roman. Snub. Flat. Bottle nose,
Grecian. Pug. Sharp. Parrotical nose.

_Colour._

Red. Malmsey. Purple.
Ruby. Claret. Copper.

[9] Lavater considers the nose as the fulcrum of the brain; and
describes it as a piece of Gothic architecture. "It is in the
nose that the arch of the forehead properly rests, the weight of
which, but for this, would mercilessly crush the cheeks and the
mouth." He enters into the philosophy of noses with diverting
enthusiasm, and finally concludes, "Non cuique datum est habere
nasum:"--it is not every one's good fortune to have a nose! A
sharp nose has been considered the visible mark of a shrew.

Now, what does all this come to? _Cui bono?_ A great deal for surgery; let
us examine what may be done;--we know that noses may be supplied,--may not,