The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 69, July, 1863 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 333 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 69, July, 1863.

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 69, July, 1863 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 333 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 69, July, 1863.

The vertical part of the lower jaw is short, and the angle of the jaw is obtuse, in infancy.  When the physical development is complete, the lower jaw, which, as the active partner in the business of mastication, must be developed in proportion to the vigor of the nutritive apparatus, comes down by a rapid growth which gives the straight-cut posterior line and the bold right angle so familiar to us in the portraits of pugilists, exaggerated by the caricaturists in their portraits of fighting men, and noticeable in well-developed persons of all classes.  But in imperfectly grown adults the jaw retains the infantile character,—­the short vertical portion necessarily implying the obtuse angle.  The upper jaw at the same time fails to expand laterally:  in vigorous organisms it spreads out boldly, and the teeth stand square and with space enough; whereas in subvitalized persons it remains narrow, as in the child, so that the large front teeth are crowded, or slanted forward, or thrown out of line.  This want of lateral expansion is frequently seen in the jaws, upper and lower, of the American, and has been considered a common cause of caries of the teeth.

A third series of results will relate to the effect of character in moulding the features.  Go through a “rogues’ gallery” and observe what the faces of the most hardened villains have in common.  All these villanous looks have been shaped out of the unmeaning lineaments of infancy.  The police-officers know well enough the expression of habitual crime.  Now, if all this series of faces had been carefully studied in photographs from the days of innocence to those of confirmed guilt, there is no doubt that a keen eye might recognize, we will not say the first evil volition in the change it wrought upon the face, nor each successive stage in the downward process of the falling nature, but epochs and eras, with differential marks, as palpable perhaps as those which separate the aspects of the successive decades of life.  And what is far pleasanter, when the character of a neglected and vitiated child is raised by wise culture, the converse change will be found—­nay, has been found—­to record itself unmistakably upon the faithful page of the countenance; so that charitable institutions have learned that their strongest appeal lies in the request, “Look on this picture, and on that,”—­the lawless boy at his entrance, and the decent youth at his dismissal.

The field of photography is extending itself to embrace subjects of strange and sometimes of fearful interest.  We have referred in a former article to a stereograph in a friend’s collection showing the bodies of the slain heaped up for burial after the Battle of Malignano.  We have now before us a series of photographs showing the field of Antietam and the surrounding country, as they appeared after the great battle of the 17th of September.  These terrible mementos of one of the most sanguinary conflicts of the war we owe to the enterprise of Mr. Brady of New

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 69, July, 1863 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.