The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028949745 Cornell University Library BF843 .L39 1858 Essays on pt slognom' : designed to prom i olln 3 1924 028 949 745 M.1jj\:v:ai':e;ii IcTuion. Wiaiam. Teffy & C° ESSAYS ON PHYSIOGNOMY: DESIGNED TO PROMOTE THE KNOWLEDGE AND THE LOVE OF MANKIND. WUITTEN IN THE GEBUAN LANGUAGE BY JOHN CASPAR^AVATER, AND TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY THOMAS HOLCROFT; V TO WHICH AEE ADDED, ONE HUNDRED PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES, A FOSTHDMODS WORK BY UB. LAVATAS ; AND TENTH EDITION. WITH UPWARDS OF FOUR HUNDRED PROFILES, AND OTHER ENGRAVINGS, LONDON: WILLIAM TEGG AND CO., 85, QUEEN STREET', CHEAPSIDE. SIDCOCLTIII. MSJOKQUODALB AKD CO., PRINTERS, LOSDOH WOBES— ME^VTON , ADDRESS. "rUE CUAK\Gr£R 0» A MAN HAY BE READ IN HIS PACE." Lord Kauhs. Physiognomy, whether understood in its most extensive or confined signifi- cation, is the origin of all human decisions, efforts, actions, expectations, fears, and hopes ; of all .pleasing and unpleasing sensations, which are occasioned by external ohjects, nor is there a man to be found who is not daily influenced by Physiognomy; not a man who has not figured to himself a countenance exceedingly lovely, or exceedingly hateful ; not a man who does not, more or less, the first time he encounters a stranger, observe, estimate, compare and judge him, according to apjtearances, although he might hitherto have been a stranger to the science of Physiognomy ; it is, therefore, a manifest truth, that whether or not sensible of it, all men are daily influenced by Physio- gnomy . and as Sultzer has affirmed, every man, consciously or unconsciously, understands something of Physiognomy. The most simple and inanimate object has its characteristic exterior, by which it is not only distinguished as a species, but individually ; and shall the first, noblest, best harmonized, and most beauteous of beings, be denied all characteristic ? But, whatever may be opposed to the truth and certainty of the science of Physiognomy, it must be admitted that there is no object, thus considered, more important, more worthy of observation, more interesting than man, nor any occupation superior to that of disclosing the beauties and perfections of human nature. We do not consider any apology needful for the republication of a work so highly appreciated as Lavater's Essays on Physiognomy. Several English and French translations have already appeared ; and although large editions in both languages were sold, it is more than probable the sale was considerably limited on account of the high prices at which each of them were published. In sending forth a new edition, it has been our aim to combine uniformity, economy and portability ; how far we may have succeeded in this respect, we leave a discerning Public to determine. Drawings have necessarily been made from the Outline Portraits and other Engravings, reducing the size, so as to represent in Eighty Plates the same number of subjects that were formerly given in three hundred and sixty. At the same time, great care has been taken to preserve the spirit and identity of the countenances which were selected by the Author as peculiarly adapted to illustrate the Science of Physiognomy, rendering it at once a book of utility, amusement, and instruc- tion, suited to the man of intellect, study, and taste. ADVERTISEMENT. The revision, which will be found at the con- clusion of the work, relates to this particular edition of the Physiognomical Fragments of Mr. Lavater, which was published under the inspection of his friend, John Michael Arm- bruster, in octavo, for the benefit of those who could not afford to purchase the quarto edition. The editor, Armbruster, has changed the order of the fragments, and has omitted some few superfluous passages. The friend was more capable of perceiving where the author had re- peated than was Mr. Lavater. Having taken something away, the editor added something new ; so that this is, perhaps, the work which best deserves preference. We have the most iirefragable evidence, from the revision above- mentioned, that Mr. Lavater perfectly approved of the plan of his friend, Mr. Arrabrustci', VI ADVERTISEMENT. whose additions he has himself corrected and sanctioned. With respect to the translation, those who know the original will also know the difficulties which almost every period presented. The German is a language abounding in compound words, and epithets linked in endless chains. Eager to excel, its writers think they never can have said enough, while any thing more can be said : their energy is frequently unbridled, and certainly, in the exalted quality of energy, Mr. Lavater will cede to few of his countrymen. He wished for the language and the pen of angels, to write on his favourite subject. Bold endeavours have been made to preserve the spirit of his reasoning, the enthusiasm of his feelings, and the sublimity of his conceptions. But, without any affected distrust of myself, I cannot venture to affirm they are preserved. THOMAS HOLCROFT. ADVERTISEMENT THE SECOND EDITION. The present edition has been carefully revised, compared with the original, and corrected. A valuable addition, it is presumed, has been made to it, in the translation of the One Hundred Physiognomical Rules, which compose the fifth volume of the Posthumous Works of Lavater, published by his son-in-law, Mr. G. Gessner. The Memoirs of the Life of the -Author, pre- fixed to this edition, are principally compiled from the Life of Lavater, by G. Gessner, who appears to have exhibited him, as he frequentlj?, in the course of his work, professes to be his object, without either exaggerating his great merits and endowments, or diminishing his foibles and defects. Viii ADVERTISEMENT. In addition to what has been said in the pre- ceding advertisement on the merit of this work, compared with the very expensive edition m quarto, we now have the testimony of Mr. Gessner, whose authority certainly must have great weight, decidedly in its favour. He tells us (see the following Memoirs, page Ixxxix.), that " in ] 783, Mr. Armbruster, at the instance of Mr. Lavater, prepared and published an octavo edition of the great work on Physiognomy, re- duced to a smaller form, but with respect to whatever is essential, a complete and perfect work. This edition Mr. Lavater very carefully revised, and it was his avowed opinion that this work, which is sold for nearly the tenth part of the price of the large edition, contains com- pletely all that is essential in the tatter " CONTENTS. PAOB Life of Lavatek . . , . ■ Introduction . . . • ■ A word concerning the author On the nature of man, which is the foundation of the Rcience of physiognomy .... Physiognomy, pathognomy .... Of the truth of physiognomy Reasons why the science of physiognomy is so often ridiculed and treated with contempt Testimonies in favour of physiognomy Solomon . ■ • • • Jesus, son of Sirach . . • • Sultzer . • • • ■ Wolf . . • • • Gellert . ■ • ■ Herdor ..■••■ Of the universality of physiognomonical sensation Additions ■ • • • ' Physiognomy a science Of the advantages of physiognomy Of the disadvantages of physiognomy Of the ease of studying physiognomy Of the difficulties of physiognomy . Of the rarity of the spirit of physiognomonical observation . Additions . • • • The physiognomist . • • • ' Of the apparently false decisions of physiognomy I i 6 ]] 13 19 23 ib. ih. 21 25 26 28 31 33 37 41 45 50 53 67 59 62 60 X CONTENTS. Of the general objections made to physiognomy Various objections to physiognomy answered . On dissimulation, falsehood, and sincerity On freedom and necessity Additions . • • ' ' On the harmony of moral and corporeal beauty Additions . ■ • Socrates Additions . • • ' ' Miscellaneous physiognomonical exercises Of the union between the knowleogc <;f the heart and philanthropy Of the universal excellence of the form of man On the study of physiognomy, addressed to Count Thun, of Vienna, First Letter On ditto ; Second Letter to Count Thun . Addition— List of remarkable countenances On portrait painting . Additions Of the congeniality of the human form . Additions On shades . . • • Of the great significance of shades . Additions Of beasts Introduction General reflections Extracts from Aristotle concerning beasts Resemblances between the countenances of men and beasts Additions On the skulls of beasts Additions On the difiference of the characters of animals Thoughts of a friend on brutal and flumau physiognomy Observations on some animals paoe 73 73 Si 90 93 95 110 113 13-2 123 129 132 136 156 168 170 17G 179 185 187 190 195 204 ib. 205 206 207 208 209 210, 21] 212 214 Additions : — Animal charactenstics Lions Elephant, crocodile, and hippopotamus The hprse 216 217 ih. 218 CONTENTS. XX PAGB Six heads of horses ... 221 Rirds . . . . . .223 r"ish •...-- 225 . ih. 226 . 227 229 . 230 233 . 236 237 Insects • . . . . Serpents ..... ' A word on monkeys .... Additions .... Skulls of monkeys ■ . » . On skulls ..... Suggestions to the physiognomist concerning the skull Objection and answer Further reply ..... 238 Of the difference of skulls as they relate to sex, and particularly to nations . . . . .241 Additions .... , 243 Remarks ..... 245 Of the skulls of children .... 247 Additions ..... 249 Essay by a late learned man of Oldenburg (M. Sturtz) on physi- ognomy, interspersed with short remarks by the author . 253 Quotations from Huart . . . .261 Remarks on an Essay upon Physiognomy by Professor Lichtenberg 266 u Extracts from authors, with remarks . . . 293 Some physjognomonical extracts from an essay inserted in the Deutschen Museum .... ib. Extracts from Maximus Tyrius . . 302 Extracts from a manuscript by Th — . . 303 Extracts from Nicolai .... 310 Extracts from Winkelmann . • ■ .311 Miscellaneous quotations . • • 313 Passages or miscellaneous physiognomonical thoughts from Holy Writ, with a short introduction . . . .316 Miscellaneous extracts from Kaempf's Essay on the Tempera- ments, ^vith remarks .... 323 Physiognomonical anecdotes .... 326 Concerning temperaments . . - • 327 Signs of bodily strength and weakness . . . 'i'i'i Medicinal semeiotics, or the signs of health and sickness . 336 \^/ National physiognomy . • • • • 339 My own remarks . . . . ■ ^o- "» CONTENTS. PAGE Extracts from Other authors . .341 Buffon .... . ib Professor Kant . . , . • 346 Winkelraann . 349 M.dePaux . . , . 350 Lentz .... .352 Camper ..,..• 353 Man of Literature at Darmstadt . . 354 Physiognomy of towns and places . . .359 Conclusion of national physiognomy . . . 360 \/ResembIance between parents and children . . . 361 General remarks ..... i6. Remarks on the opinions of BufFon, Haller, and Bonnet, concern- ing the resemblance between parents and children . . 366 Extracts from Bonnet .... 367 Observations on the new-born, the dying, and the dead . . 370 Of the influence of countenance on countenance . . 37 1 On the influence of the imagination on the countenance . 374 The effects of the imagination on the human form . . 376 Oncertain individual parts of the human body . . 379 The forehead • • ■ . . jj. The eyes .... 383 The eyebrows .... 38g The nose ..... 3gQ The mouth and lips .... 392 Teeth Chin ..... Women .... Male and female .... A word on the physiognomonical relation of the sexes Of the physiognomy of yoxith . A word to travellers .... A word to princes and judges . A word to the clergy . . . ■ Miscellaneous countenances Physiognomonical denominations of countenances elucidated Miscellaneous thoughts Additions ... O n the hair .... 395 396 ib. 400 402 403 405 409 412 413 ib. 415 418 419 COKTKNTS. Xlll I'AGE Additions on the temperaments . . 420 third chapter, on bodily strength and weakness 423 — national physiognomy . . , 424 Swiss and Zurich countenances , . . ib. Citizens of Zurich ... . 427 Georgian Bushkir .... 430 Additions to pages 361 to 3''9 — Mothjr marks, •Sec. . 433 Mother marks . . . . ' , jj., Additions, illustrative of pages 379 to 396 — For-Jheads . , 436 On the eyes ... 447 ^ Outlines of eyes after Le Brun . . . 452 Additions to the nose, mouth, and chin . . 453 illustrative of pages 396 to 400 — On women . 459 One Hundred Physiognomonical Rules General rules Forehead Wrinkles of the forehead Eyes . Eyebrows . Nose . . . Lineaments of the cheeks Mouth Chin Forehead and mouth Stupidity Folly Variable character Sophists and kjiaves Obstinacy . Women Warts Worthless insignificanat . Caution Hypocrisy and irresolutwn The smile . Persons to be avoided Ambiguous characters Thinkers 461 ib. 463 465 467 470 471 473 474 477 16. 478 479 480 ib. ib. 481 483 ib. 484 ■ib. ib. 485 ifc. 486 XIV CONTENTS. FAGS Voluptuaries . . ■ . • _ Harsh characters . . r . . v>. Characters to be avoided , • • ' Caution 489 Discordant characters , . • • * To be avoided . . , . - ' **• Manly character . ^-^ To be avoided .... '*• Conclusion . . ^ On the Lines of Animality ^ • ■ '^^^ sv DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE PLATES, &l-. The Binder is requested to place the Plates as nearly as possible to cor- respond with the description : if reference is given to more than one Plate on the same page, let them follow in numerical order. *,* To avoid injuring the Plates, cut very little from the margin. Portrait of the Ai ithoi PAGE to face Title-page, Plate XLI. . . 243 Plate L . . 33 XLII. . >, II. 35 XLIII. 244 III. 36 XLIV. . 245 IV. » XLV. 249 V. 59 XLVI. . J> VI. 61 XLVII. >f VII. 83 XLVIII. 250 VIII. 93 XLIX. 1* IX. 110 L. 251 X. >» LI. 273 XI. 111 LII. . 276 XII. >» LIII. 331 XIII. 112 LIV. . 418 XIV. J» LV. 421 XV. 117 LVI. . 424 XVI. 122 LVII. 426 XVII. »» LVIII. . 429 XVIII. 123 LIX. 433 XIX. 124 LX. . ,, XX. . LXI. ,, XXI. JJ LXII. . „ XXII. . 127 LXIII. 434 XXIIL 176 LXIV. . 435 XXIV. 185 LXV. 437 XXV. 190 LXVI. . 440 XXVI. 195 LXVII. 443 XXVII. 198 LXVTII. . 447 XXVIII 200 LXIX. ,» XXIX. 208 LXX. . 449 XXX. 209 LXXI. 5» XXXI. 210 LXXIL 452 XXXII. 3t LXXIII. 453 XXXIII 216 LXXIV. 456 XXXIV. 217 LXXV. 457 XXXV. 99 LXXVI. 458 XXXVI. 221 LXXVII. „ XXXVII. 223 LXXVIII. , 496 xxxvm. 225 LXXIX. 99 XXXIX. . »? LXXX. 497 XL. sag MEMOIRS OF THB LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. John Caspar Lavatzr, was the son of Henry Lavater, Doctor of Medicine, and Member of the Government of Zurich; the maiden name of his mother was Regula Escher. In a manuscript, containing notices and reflections on the incidents of the earlier years of the life of Lavater, written by himself, and found among his papers, by his son-in-law, G. Gessner, he characterises his father as " a man of universally acknowledged integrity, of a naturally good and sound understand- ing, but neither distinguished for learning nor great penetration; neither a genius, nor a man of philoso- phical inquiry ; an example of industry and unwearied application ; attentive and successful in his profes- sion; an excellent economist; in everything extremely orderly and regular ; the best of husbands, and the tenderest of fathers." His mother, he tells us, possessed an extraordinary understanding, an astonishing power of imagination, and an insatiable curiosity after novelty and know- ledge, which extended at once to the smallest and the b XVUl MEMOIRS OF TH£ greatest objects, though the latter afforded her most satisfaction. Her invention was inexhaustible; she had a projecting mind, and was active and indefati- gable in carrying into execution what she had planned. She esteemed and reverenced whatever was noble, great, and intelligent ; and had derived every advan- tage that pciild be expected from her conversation with pious and learned men. She had read the books they recommended to her perusal, though she did not pretend to be, nor was she, a learned woman. She was an excellent manager, and her industry was par- ticularly useful to her husband, to whom she acted as an apothecary, being frequently employed from morning till night in making up the medicines he prescribed. She was a faithful and affectionate wife, and a tender mother. Our author was her twelfth child, and born on the 14th of November, 1741. In infancy he was of a weakly and delicate conformation of body, and it was not expected that he would prove healthy, or, perha;ps, long-lived. Of his disposition in his very early years, he says himself, — "All the accounts that have been given me of my character in early youth agree in this that I was very mild, quiet, and good-tempered, and at the same time, ardent, and occasionally violent • very hasty and very timid ; of a sensibility extremely delicate; nothing less than apt to learning; very inattentive, changeful, impatient, pettish, thoughtless and simple. The slightest tendency to wit or plea- santry was never discovered in me ; I uttered no bon mot that could be repeated, as the little jokes of my LIFE OF J. C. ;,AVATER. xix brotjiers and sister? frequently were." — " I recollect " be ^dds, " bow much I suffered at tbis early period of my life from timidity and basbfulness. Curiosity continually impelled me, while fear restra,ined me ; yet I observed and felt, though I could never commu,- nicate my feelings aiid observa)tions ; or if I attempted to make such a comniunication, the manner in which I did it was so absijird, and drew on me so much ridicule, that I soon found myself incapable of utteriijg another word." In the Germa.n schooj, to which young Caspar was sent to learn to ^-ead, he bad the fortune to meet with a master who bad the good sense, frequently not foun(^ in seminaries of a far higher clq,ss, to treat him in a manner suitable to the peculiarity of his disposition, with the utmost mildness and patience, iiotw;ithsta,ipid- ing his awliw:ar^ness, heedlessness, and inaptitude to learn. He conceived a real affection for him; and continually assured his parents that he should be able to make sometbiijig of little Caspar still. His pro- gress, howeyer, in reading, |Wri^ing, £\nd learning ^ittle pieces by inemory wa,s extremejy slowj and his mother frequently felt not a little anxiety on account of his inattention and indocility. At the end of his sixth year young Lavater entered the Latin school, and from, about this time his mental powers appear gradually to h^^ve expanded, ,thX£lJ[OIRS OF THJS " Wijth respect to the eharacter of my Jjeart, it com tinued still the same. I was feeble and pliable; not to be induced to commit what I considered as wrong and unjust, buit easily led into folly and wanton mis- chief. Actuated by a pure and disinterested bene- ■vokpce, I did good, according to the means I pos- sessed, even to profusion and extravagance. I bestowed happiness wherever it was in my power, and suffered myself indescribably when I saw others suffer." "" In January, 1756, his elder bfother Conrad died of a consumption, and his death occasioned young Lavater seriously to reflect on the shortiiiess of human life, and the transitory nature of all sublunary things. In this disposiition of mind, he teJIs us, he entered the cham- ber in which his brother lay dead on the bed, being not yet pujt into his coffin. As he opened the door, he imagined he saw gliding before him an appearance of a dull whiteness, a pale shapeless phantom, an^ ran terrified, as iif chased by a spectre, into another rpom, where he could scarcely keep himself from fainting. All who saw him were equally astoij^ished and alarmed at his agitation, aiid the death-like palenesg rpf his looks ; but notwithstanding theiir inquiries he did not discover to them^he real cause of .his terror. ~ " From this moment," says he, " I became subject to so great a fear of apparitions, ghosts, and phantonis, that I could not stay a single moment alone, neithesr by night nor day, in a room which had the door shut Yet, for a long time, I, could not prevail on myself to confess this fear to any person. What a strug-g-le what contrivance was necessary continually to conceal it ! What did I not suffer when my mother sent me LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XXXI in the evening to fetch any thing from an empty room ! This fear was so violent that I could not con- ceive it possible that I should ever be freed from it during the remainder of my life ; and the most deter- mined courage of which I could form an idea was to be able to remain alone in a room for a quarter of an hour. When I read of any learned man that he loved soli- tude, or that he had shut himself up, my admiration could not possibly be increased by any thing else related of him. — Oh, how indescribably delicate, irri- table, and easily wounded, is the nervous system which nature formed to produce the being called John Caspar Lavater ! — This torturing fear continued to harass me many years, but gradually, I know not precisely in what manner, it left me, and left me so completely, that I never feel myself happier, or more tranquil and cheerful, than in those moments and hours when I am entirely alone." At college, Lavater proisecuted his studies under the direction of Bodmer and Breitinger, twoof the most distinguished tutors in the seminary; he also con- tracted a confidential and ardent friendship with flenry Hess, and his brothers Felix and Jacob Hess, and Henry Fuseli, who is now so well known in this country for his eminent talents as a painter of peculiar powers and genius. Towards the close of the year 1759, Lavater was received into the theological class, under the divinity professor Zimmermann. In the following year he preached his first probationary sermon, in which he displayed an originality of manner, and an earnestness XXXll MEMOIRS OF THE and pathos, which made a great impression on his hearers, though these consisted only of the professoi and his fellow-students. About this time, he wrote various religious poems and hymns ; among pthers, one entitled " Jesus on Golgotha," which he after- wards revised and published. In the spring of 1762, having completed his course of divinity studies, more, as he observes, to the satisfaction of his professor and tutors than his own, he was ordained a minister. In the year 1762, Lavater, actuated by that general benevolence and patriotic zeal which he so disinterest- edly displayed to the last moment of his life, engaged m an undertaking which excited great attention, and procured him the love and esteem of his fellow- citizens. Felix Grebel, bailiff of Gruningen, one of the bailiwicks of Zurich, grossly abused his authority as a magistrate, and was notoriously guilty of acts of oppression and extortion ; yet, the sufferers being poor, dared not complain to the magistrates of Zurich, since the burgermaster of that time, (one of the first in the state), was the father-in-law of the delinquent. The honest indignation of Lavater was strongly ex- cited by the numerous complaints he heard, and the undeniable proofs he obtained of the repeated acts of injustice committed by the bailiff; yet the connexions of the offender, whom impunity rendered every day bolder, were so powerful, that he was convinced it was most advisable to proceed at first with secrecy and cau- tion. In conjunction with his friend Fuseli, equally an ardent enemy to injustice and oppression, he sent an anonymous letter to the bailiff, signed with the letters LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XXXiii J. C. L. in which, after reproaching him in the strong- •^st terms with the enormities of which he had been guilty, he concluded thus :— " I give you two months"^ —within that time, either restore what you have un- justly extorted, or expect justice. I conjure you to communicate this letter to those who, if you are innocent, can do you right. Call on me, I conjure you, within fourteen days, in the public gazettes ; you shall find me ready to give you every satisfaction. But, if you neither vindicate yourself from my charge, nor restore your extortions, you shall, as God lives, exposed to utmost shame, be made the sacrifice of offended justice. — Rely not on the influence and pro- tection of your worthy father-in-law, whom you have so often disgraced — he has a mind too noble to aiford you aid. He will not sacrifice the honour he has acquired by a life of integrity of seventy years, to a character base as yours. — I repeat, I give you two months. You shall be weighed in the balance — see that you are not found wanting." This letter was dated August 27, 1762. Lavater and Fuseli waited the two months they had appointed, but the corrupt bailiff had not the courage to require satisfaction, either in the manner proposed to him, or in any other way ; nor did he appear disposed to make reparation for any acts of injustice or extortion that he had committed. Lavater therefore wrote a paper entitled, " The Unjust Bailiff, or the Complaints of a Patriot," of which he had a small number of copies printed, and sent one to each of the members of the government, sealed, and superscribed with his parti- XXXIV MEMOIRS OF THE C'ular address, with a motto peculiarly adapted to the character of each. These mottoes were so extremely appropriate, that they made a greater impression on many of those to whom they were addressed than even - the contents of the paper itself. The general motto to each of the papers was — " Brutus, thou sleepest . Ah ! wert thou alive !" In consequence of the distribution of these papers among all the members of the magistracy, a meeting of the council of Zurich was held, in which it was determined to publish a notice, requiring that the author of the accusation should, within tne space of a month, personally appear before the council to sub- stantiate and prove the charges he had made, assuring him that he should meet with justice and impartiality; and at the same time signifying that, if he did not appear, every means would be employed to detect and punish him for his anonymous slander. The same notice required all those who thought themselves ag- grieved to appear, and make their complaints to the burgermaster, promising them an impartial hearing and effectual redress. This notice was published on the 4th of December, 1762. On the same day M. Grebel, the bailiff, who was the object of these charges, and who had hitherto maintained so cautious a silence, appeared before the council to lodge his complaint, and claim its justice and protection against a libel which had been printed and circulated to defame his character. It was in fact in vain for him to be longer silent, as the affair had now become public, and it was evident would be in- vestigated by the proper authorities. LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XXXV The publication of the notice from the council en- couraged many persons who had been oppressed by the bailiff to appear, and state their complaints to the burgermaster, who on the 16th of December informed the council that he had already received charges against the party accused from twenty different per- sons. A committee of six members was therefore appointed by the council to examine and report on the matter of the accusations. • Lavater and Fuseli appeared before the council on the 24th of the same month, and avowed themselves the authors of the anonymous letter referred to in the notice. They behaved with all that firmness which conscious Integrity and a zeal for justice inspire in ardent minds. When asked why they had chosen to proceed in the manner they did, and not by an imme- diate complaint to the magistrates, Lavater produced a paper, stating the reasons of their conduct in this particular, in language so energetic and convincing, that no further objection was made to the mode they had pursued. Before Lavater discovered himself to be the author of this anonytnous accusation, he suffered extreme anxiety on account of the alarm which he knew his parents would feel, when they should learn that he had adventured to bring charges against a magistrate in- timately connected with persons of the first authority and influence in the government. Under the impres- sion of this uneasiness he first made known his secret to the minister Wirz, who introduced the disclosure of it to his parents by saying—" I come to wish you joy XXXVI MKMOIKS OF THE of a son, who by his zeal for justice not merely gives the promise of being a great man, but already is a great man." The father of Lavater, however, ex- pressed great fears of the consequences of so bold an undertaking ; but M. Wirz, clapping him on the shoul- der, replied — " Rejoice, doctor, in such a son, who speaks when no other person dares to speak. That justice for which he displays so ardent a zeal shall cover him with its wing's." It would be tedious and uninteresting to enter into a minute account of the progress and investigation of this aflfair. Suffice it to say that Grebel, the bailiff, against whom the charges were preferred, did not think it advisable to wait the result and consequences of the inquiries of the committee appointed to ex- amine into his conduct, but confessed his guilt by absconding from justice. In the beginning of March, 1763, Lavater set out with his friends, Hess and Fuseli, on a journey to Berlin, whence they proposed to proceed to Barth, in Swedish Pomerania, to visit the president Spalding, with whom they were well acquainted by his writings, and from whose conversation they expected to derive equal entertainment and instruction. " We had always," says Lavater, " considered this excellent man as one of the most enlightened and acute thinkers of the age, and one of the most worthy of the servants of Christ. Our principal object, therefore, was, by making some stay with him to fit ourselves for the future exercise of our sacred profession." Professor Sulzer, from Wintherthur, who was then LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XXXvii in Switzerland, and M. Jezeler, from Schafifliausen, likewise agreed to accompany the young friends on their excursion to Berlin. M. Sulzer, in the course of this tour, introduced his fellow-travellers to many per- sons of distinguished literary merit to whom he was himself known. Of these and others, with whom Mr. Lavater became acquainted at Berlin, he has given characteristic sketches in several of his letters ; but as many of them, though men of genius and abilities, are scarcely known, even by name, here, we shall only select such of these sketches as are descriptive of men of celebrity, or of persons whose portraits are to be found among the plates illustrative of the Physiogno- monical Essays. It will appear from these how early Mr. Lavater began to observe and portray physiogno- monically. " Gellert," he says, " of whom we were favoured with a sight only for a few moments, has the physiog- nomy of a profound philosophical Christian. Intelli- gence beams in his eyes, and a spirit of integrity and philanthropy is displayed on his lips. His whole body, however, exhibits melancholy weakness in a human shape. In the features of his countenance we discern no ray of the powerful animation of his writings, and the vivacity of his style. " Zollikofer has a pale, long, but honest and spirited countenance. He is a lover of polite literature, a man of taste, philanthropic, sincere, generally beloved and honoured, as well on account of the simplicity of his doctrine as his blameless life. " Ernesti a not very old but fully mature man, of XXXVUI MEMOIRS OF THE a pale complexion, with deep, thinking, blue eyes, under a projecting forehead, with scarcely any eye- brows : — speaking mildly in the firm tone of a judi- cious philosopher. A man with whom it is very pleasing to converse ; and whose whole conversation and manner bears the character of sincerity and inte- grity. He has, as Fuseli said, the Zurich air in his [^exterior." Euler, the celebrated mathematician, whose portrait he drew with his own hand while he was at Berlin, he has thus described, in his characteristic manner — " An "open singular countenance, exempt from every appear- ance of serious profundity of thought. A forehead in which penetration and mathematical precision cannot be mistaken. — He is very cheerful and entertaining, and has nothing affected or pedantic in his manner. He has much good-humoured wit, and converses with great vivacity on every subject. He asked us jocosely, making it as it were a kind of case of conscience, whether it were right for two clergymen of the re- formed church to come so far to visit, and make so long a stay with a Lutheran divine, adding, " have you reformed Spalding, or has he made you a Luthe- ran?" — We both answered, "We are convinced of the truth of Christianity." Lavater neglected no opportunity that presented itself of seeing and conversing with persons distin- guished by any great qualities; by their learning, religion, or virtues. In a letter written to his parents, while on his excursion to Berlin and Barth, he ob- serves — " I have, in fact, never seen any great man LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XXxix without advantage, abstracting from the profit I have derived from his conversation. I always feel a forcible impulse to employ my own powers in the best manner possible, in the circle in which I act, to do honour to my Maker. I do not seek fame, it would be pride and folly so to mistake my abilities ; but I hold it to be the certain sign of a little mind, not to feel how great we may become, when we only strive to reach that perfection which it is possible for us to attain." ^ Mr. Lavater, with his friends Hess and Fuseli, arrived at Barth, in May, 1763. They were received by Spalding in the most courteous and friendly man- ner, and continued with him till January, 1764. During their stay they accompanied him in a journey he made to Stralsund, to see his father-in-law, the superintendent Gebhard, and afterwards proceeded with him to Bollwitz, in the island of Rugen. Of Spalding he thus speaks in terms of the warmest admiration and friendship. — " The penetration of this great man ; his pure, elegant and just taste, which j appeared still more conspicuous in his conversation! and in his whole manner, than even in his immortal writings ; his profound, comprehensive, and judiciously | selected learning ; and, above all, his exalted moral feeling ; his noble animation, and the unalterable pro- 1 priety of all his sentiments ; the inartificial open con- | fidence and simplicity of his whole character, — made j on us so forcible an impression, that we could not but rejoice in our inmost hearts, that we could enjoy the onversation and instruction of so extraordinary a man.J^ While he remained at Barth, he commenced those xl MEMOIRS OF THE literary labours, which he afterwards so indefatigably continued through a life of sixty years, by writing in a periodical work, entitled — "An ample and c ritica l Account of the principal Publications of the present TimT:"' with ^ther Notices ^relative to Literature." — Many of the critiques on theological books in this Review are by him ; but so private were his commu- nications, that his name was not known even to the editors. He also entered into a literary contest with M. Bahrdt, a minister at Berlin, on the subject of a book published about that time by M. Krugot, chaplain to the prince of Carolath, entitled — " Christ in Soli- tude. " This work M. Bahrdt considered as contain- ing many erroneous opinions, and in the zeal of ortho- doxy published his observations on it under the title of — " Christ in SoU tude : ^^HT^^^^^ ^"*^ ^P^^PJl^-" Lavater, who greatly admired the book, though he did not coincide with the author in all his sentiments, im- mediately transmitted an anonymous letter to Bahrdt, . which he afterwards published, written with all that warmth and vehemence which the idea of an act of injustice committed against another naturally produced in him. In this letter he charged Bahrdt with having purposely wrested many passages from their real meaning, and misrepresented the principles of the author—" And this," says he, " I think I may say with certainty, you have done contrary to the conviction of your conscience from mean and base views. If you really have read the work you so disingenuously con- demn, which whether you have or not may well appear doubtful, I am persuaded that you have rejoiced when LIFE OF J. C. LAVAT£R. xli you have found a passage from which you could extract a meaning you could pronounce heretical. Were I actuated by the same evil disposition, I have no doubt I could find a hundred passages in your writings, which, treated in the same manner, would yield full as much heresy." Bahrdt published a second part of his observa- tions, in which he animadverted on the letter he had received from Lavater, with all the heat of orthodoxy, calling his antagonist " one of the despisers of thd religion of Jesus, an enemy of the cross of Christ, and a wolf in sheep's clothing." Lavater now published his first letter, and likewise an answer to the reply of Bahrdt, in which, after fur- ther defending the author, whose cause he had under- taken to vindicate, he took notice of the aspersions cast on himself. To these he replied by making a declaration of the faith he held, which, as we can have no better authority to determine what his real opinions on some of the principal articles of the Christian religion were, we shall here insert. " That you may not," says he, addressing himself to Bahrdt, " mistake my real opinions on the subject of the religion of Christ, and avail yourself of the op- portunity, where my expressions may not be clear and determinate, to pervert and render them suspicious, I shall here give a declaration of the faith which I hold, sincerely, and from internal conviction, with respect to some of the particular doctrines of Christianity that have an immediate relation to the present subject. " I believe that the everlasting God and Father has xlii MEMOIIIS OF THE sent his eternal only begotten Son into the world, to take our nature, to be our teacher, our example, and redeemer ; to show us the way to eternal happiness, and to restore to us, without any merit on our own part^ or any view to our good works, if, indeed, we have performed any, the right to immortality and positive beatitude, which we had lost by the sin of Adam and our own transgressions. I believe that Jesus Christ, by his death, has reconciled the sins of the world ; that is, has made that possible which by no good dis- positions of heart, by no works of the purest virtue, could have been made possible, namely, the satisfac- tion for our sins ; that therefore this sacrifice of Jesus Christ is the only ground of comfort and positive sal- vation for all those, and only for those, who believe in Christ ; that is, who receive the whole doctrine of the gospel with full consent of heart; and when, by an unprejudiced examination they are convinced of its divinity, sacrifice to its clear and evident proofs, not their reason, but all the prejudices of their under- standing and their heart, and every lesser weight of probability on the contrary side. " Such a state of mind is in the best moral order, and is not only a source of all virtue, but is itself the greatest of virtues ; the internal, immediate salvation of the soul, without which not only no salvation is possible, but which likewise is all that man on his part can contribute towards his salvation ; or, which is the same thing, all that God requires of him to render him capable of receiving the positive instruc- tions of his grace. LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. xlui " I find also, in this gospel, to my comfort and edi- fication in good works, the doctrine, expressed, witli sufiicient clearness and conviction, of the manifold assistance of divine grace, particularly by an imme- diate influence of the Holy Spirit on our souls: though I meet with no formal proofs of the uninterrupted action of this divine person upon all Christians alike, and extending to every good emotion of the heart; unless I esteem as such what appears only to have reference to the miraculous gifts bestowed on the first Christians. " This I believe, and this faith will I avow before I the whole world." J Lavater and his young friends left Barth on the '24th of January, 1764, and were accompanied by Spalding to Berlin, where they continued till the 1st of March, when they again set out, Lavater and Hess, on their return to Switzerland, and Fuseli to accom- pany them to Gottingen, whence he proposed to pro- ceed to London. At Quedlinburg they made a visit to Klopstock, the celebrated German poet, who received them in the most friendly manner, and as if they had been for years his most intimate acquaintances. They con- tinued here three days, the greater part of which they passed with Klopstock, of whom Lavater says : — " It is impossible to conceive any idea of a more obliging and friendly man than Klopstock. He dis- courses on every subject with remarkable propriety and liveliness; and joins to an excellent heart an extremely cheerful manner." ~ Xliv MEMOIRS OF THE At Halberstadt he again saw M. Gleim, and thence took his road by Brunswick to visit the worthy Abbe' Jerusalem, with whose conversation he expressed himself highly gratified. From Brunswick he pro- ceeded to Gottingen, where he parted from his friend Fuseli. At Frankfort he remained only a day and a half, but in that time contracted a confidential friend- ship with- M. Moser, which continued through the remainder of their lives. He then went by Stras- burg to Basle, where he had proposed to stay at least three days, but on his arrival there found a letter containing the melancholy information, that his father was so dangerously ill that he was not expected to live. He, therefore, proceeded without delay, accom- panied by his faithful friend Hess, to Zurich, where he arrived on the 24th of March, 1764. On his re- turn he found his father extremely ill, who exclaimed at sight of him, " Oh ! I again see my son John Caspar !" But so little hope was entertained of his recovery, that Lavater, on his arrival, wrote to his friend Henry Hess — " I am here, waiting to receive the last blessing of a dying father — yet I may, per- haps, find a moment to embrace you." His anxiety and grief, however, was soon changed into joy, for from that time his father began to recover, though slowly, till his health was entirely restored. Lavater now employed his time in reading with the utmost assiduity, and making extracts from all the theological works that made their appearance. He likewise cultivated his poetical talents, and wrote a great number of hymns and religious poems; and I-IFE OF J. C. LAVATER. xlv began a poetical translation of the Psalms. In the course of the year 1766, he inserted many pieces, both in prose and verse, in a weekly publication, entitled, " The Remembrancer, " to which he was a principal contributor, though his name did not appear. In June, 1766, he married Miss Anna Schinz, the daughter of a respectable merchant, who held an office in the civil magistracy. The affection by which this union was cemented being founded on virtue and religion, the happiness it produced proved as lasting as it was pure and rational. In the course of the following year, he published the first edition of his " Swiss Song s," which passed through a greater number of editions than any other of his works; and in 1769 appeared his translation of " Bonnet's Palingenesia;" and a poem, or rather the plan of a poem which was never completed, entitled " Prospects into Eternity," in three volumes, published successively. As the latter work attracted much notice at the time; and was supposed to avow several of the peculiar opinions entertained by Lavater, or at least attributed to him, we shall here give an extract from a letter which he wrote soon after its appearance to the Abbe Jerusalem, at Brunswick, who had written to Dr. Zimmermann to express tlie great pleasure he had received from a perusal of the work, adding some observations relative to the subjects on which it treated. " You wish a heaven and a saviour to all your fellow men; the inhabitants of this earth, who are good and virtuous. I wish the same. My opinion is xlvi MEMOIRS OF THE not, that the morally good will not be saved, will not enter into the heaven of Christ, as soon as they shall know and love him. I hope in God, who is love, and has not spared his only begotten Son, but given him for us all : in this God I hope, that not only the half- christians, but even all the condemned, converted by the mediation of his Son, shall enter his heaven. When I speak of the elect, I mean the Christians who have part in the first resurrection, or if you rather choose so to express it, who, immediately after the resurrec- tion, shall enter the heaven of Christ. I am indeed ashamed to leave Socrates behind, even for a moment. Had he seen Jesus, he would have been a good Chris- tian, as Paul was, as soon as he saw him. — But there are not many Socrates. " I strongly felt the force of your reasons for the sleep of souls, an opinion to which I had long been secretly inclined, since it at once removes innumerable difficulties — but we find so many examples, of which we wait the explanation, that seem to indicate a state of conscious existence. I need not remind you of the rich man and Lazarus, whose state after death Christ appears to describe as it literally was ; or of the thief on the cross ; St. Stephen ; St. Paul; or the apparition of Moses and Elias. Shall we not, at least, be com- pelled to make exceptions of these cases ? However advantageous it might have been for me as a poet to assume the sleep of souls, one difficulty would yet remain, which you have yourself mentioned — I mean the appearance of departed spirits. I have never seen an apparition, nor is there any person related to me LIFE OF J. C. .i.AVATER. xlvii who imagines he has seen one. 1 will set aside all I such stories ; they shall all be false — but what are we to think of Swedenborg? I must confess that' I am as disposed to reject, as any person can be, the many ridiculous things which are so offensive in his writ- ings; but must not the almost undeniable historical facts, adduced by Kant in his " Dreams of a Ghost- seer," to mention these only, be of the greatest weight with every impartial mind ? It is true, almost every thing is repulsive in this extraordinary man, and his still more extraordinary works. 1 will not suffer my- self to be imposed on by the tone of candour and simplicity in which he affirms that he has seen the spirits of the dead — but what can the most incredulous person object to relations which are as well confirmed as any thing in this world can be? In this case I cannot avoid yielding. At any rate nothing appears to me more to deserve the examination of the philo- sopher and the Christian, than the incredible asser- tions of this inexplicable man. If he be, as Ernesti thinks, a deceiver, the world ought to know it ; if what he affirms be true, we ought to believe in him." We shall here give another extract from this same letter, as it relates to certain opinions, which Lavater appears to have maintained, at least in substance, during his whole life. " I have prescribed to myself, as an inviolable rule in the writing of my poem, to say nothing in it which is not philosophically or theologically true, or which cannot be proved to have the highest degree of pro- bability. I expect, therefore, from every reader and XiVlii MEMOIRS OF THE critic of my work, that he will point out to me what he considers as mere invention or poetical licence, But I do not consider as such the reign of Christ on earth for a thousand years. I believe it as a divine. The particulars may perhaps have too much of inven- tion in them ; but the essential doctrine I consider as indubitable. The great proof for the establishment of a kingdom of Christ on earth is not found merely in some few passages of the New Testament, which ap- pear more or less to favour this doctrine ; but in the whole plan of revelation, of which the Old Testament is the foundation, and the New the accomplishment. It is certain that the prophets of the old covenant have unanimously foretold a kingdom of the Messiah. It is certain that they have so clearly expressed this idea of the future kingdom of the great Son of David, that were we not prejudiced, and confirmed by habit in a different opinion, we should not entertain a doubt that every single allusion, as well as the general images and modes of representation, describe this kingdom as an earthly monarchy. Who, when he reads the der scription given by Daniel of the monarchies, of which that of the Messiah is to be the last, would suppose that this latter, and this alone, is of an essentially different nature, and to be sought out of this earth? Who would conceive such an explanation in the least probable, were he not previously prejudiced in favour of a spiritual kingdom ? — Observe, I say a spiritual, not a heavenly kingdom. For, according to the received exposition of our divines, the sublime repre- sentations of the prophets refer to the spiritual power LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. xlix wliich Christ, since his ascension into heaven, exer- cises over his church. But this is an entirely new idea, arbitrarily ascribed to the prophets, and v^hich the Jews have always justly rejected. In no part of the whole New Testament is the kingdom of Christ understood in this sense. We must rather understand it of the future beatitude of heaven, than of the state of the Christian church on earth. But even this meaning is not to be admitted. The prophets repre- sent the kingdom of the Messiah as a consequence of his coming upon earth. They speak as if he had brought this kingdom with him from heaven to earth. They speak of no other seat of this monarchy but this earth ; and of the land of Canaan as the centre of this kingdom. (Ezek. xxxiv. 27, 28. Zech. xiv. 8, 9.) Ezekiel, in the last chapters of his prophecy, has even given a map, as it were, of the manner in which the land of Judea shall be divided under this king. This kingdom is there represented as the fulfilment of the promise made to David that his son should possess his throne for ever. It will not be denied that the Jews have always understood, and still understand, these prophecies in this sense. Has then the gospel changed all these ideas? Has it contradicted the general expectation of the Jewish nation, of more than six hundred years' continuance, as an idle prejudice? Has it shown that every thing is now to be understood spiritually? Nothing less. The ideas of Jesus and his apostles are the same with those of the ancient prophets, and so likewise are their expressions. John explicitly announces the kingdom of the Messiah — MEMOIRS OF THE yes, he tells the Jews the Messiah will immediately come, and his kingdom be offered to the nation — and had the Jews then accepted the Messiah, his kingdom would have immediately commenced. But how was it possible that the Messiah should be rejected, cru- cified, and put to death, and at the same time erect his kingdom on earth? The former of these, however, must take place to fulfil those prophecies which foretel the sufferings and death of Christ ; the latter, there- fore, could not be at the same time. This seems, in- deed, to be contrary to the prophecies, which do not appear to be fulfilled by the coming and fate of Jesus of Nazareth. And, in fact, were this his first coming the only one, the greater part of the prophecies would remain unfulfilled. " But let us see how the apostles explain this enigma. — They teach us there is a double coming of the Messiah ; the first that which has taken place, and is the fulfilment of those prophecies which speak of the sufferings of the Messiah ; and the second, which is still future, and will fulfil the other prophecies, which speak of his kingdom. — We now have a light to guide us. — All the passages of the New Testament, which relate to the second coming of the Messiah, serve to prove that by his first coming only a part of the prophecies relative to him are fulfilled. Such was the general opinion of the primitive fathers of the church with respect to the kingdora of the Messiah, as evidently appears from their writings. When a Jew objects— the Messiah, according to the account of the Christians, is already come, and yet his kingdom LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. \\ does not appear — the answer is satisfactory — He will come again, and with him come the times of re- storation. "It has, for many years, appeared to me an ex- tremely forced explanation, and contrary to all the rules of sound exposition, when divines tell their hearers, or those who would search the Scriptures, that the numerous predictions of the prophets concerning this kingdom are fulfilled, and are to be understood spiritually. For a long time I knew not what to think. I feared to open a prophetic book; and I had many secret doubts. The same occurred to me with respect to the resurrection. I almost found myself compelled to admit only one resurrection, or that of the just At length both diflSculties were removed in such a manner principally by the aid of M. Hess, the author of the excellent history of the last three years of the life of Jesus, that I am now much calmer in my mind, can disregard some far less important difficulties, for all cannot be removed even by the clearest hypothesis, and find my faith in the divine authority of the Scrip- tures satisfactorily confirmed." The opinions, however, contained, or which ap- peared to be contained, in this work, produced many severe criticisms and reflections on the author, both from orthodox and heterodox divines, and even from many who professed the greatest friendship for him. A country pastor, full of scholastic theological learning, in his zeal, conceived it his duty formally to become the accuser of the dangerous book and its author be- fore the consistory. His charge he thus introduces — lii MEMOIRS OF THE "There has lately appeared a publication, entitled ' Prospects into Eternity.' I have found it filled with old and long-refuted errors ; and I am convinced that great scandal and injury may arise from it to the church. I have therefore considered in what manner these errors may best be detected, and every person warned against them ; and it appears to me most proper that I should lay my remarks before the venerable consistory which has the superintendence of the church and seminaries of education, which, when these errors are clearly pointed out, will, as a father and director, take such measures as to its wisdom shall seem meet, to correct the evil and prevent its dangerous consequences. I shall not speak of all, but only the principal of these false doctrines. I shall not therefore say anything of his ascribing to the universe not only immensity but infinity, since the one proceeds from the other ; yet is this position extremely dangerous. Infinity is by divines and philosophers numbered among the attribula divina qucB incommunicabilia sunt (the divine attributes which are incommunicable.) Whoever says the uni- verse is infinite, makes the universe God. T will say nothing of his opinion that our earth and the other great bodies of the universe are organized. This is in itself ridiculous. Nor will I make any observations on his always styling our Saviour only an extraordinary man j and the confused manner in which he speaks of his divine origin. He says, ' Jesus will raise the dead by the power now appropriate to him.' What power is that which is now appropriate to him ? There is great reason to suspect that this expression is derived LIFE OF J. C. LAVATEll. Uii from the error of those who make Christ a newly-created God. Lastly, I will not mention that he places the divinity of the books of the Old Testament merely in the opinion of men, since he always says, when speak- ing of any of them — ' which are considered as divine.' " These are the errors of which he makes no mention , his principal accusation was that Lavater endeavoured to overthrow the article of faith relative to the resur- rection of the dead. — He afterwards proceeds : — " I might say much, were it necessary, of his other chi- merical ideas, which are all of them most extravagant and absurd. Such is his vehicle of the soul, which, within the gross material body, has another organized, but invisible body — his doctrine that departed souls exist in an intermediate state till the last day, and then first enter into a state of the highest beatitude or dreadful condemnation ; that there is a double resur- rection ; and that there will be a millennium, or king dom, in which Christ will reign on earth a thousand years." Whatever may be the truth with respect to some of these opinions ascribed to Lavater, as contained in his work, others of them can only be deduced by a mani- fest perversion of the obvious meaning of his expres- sions, and it was not difficult for him to defend himself against the charge of "having entertained them. The consistory, on receiving this accusation, cited him to give in his answer, which he did without delay, and the result was, that it was entirely approved by the consistory, and a notice sent in writing to his accuser, that the defence of Lavater had been found perfectly iiv MEMOIRS OF THE satisfactory, and that the consistory had adjudged the charge made against him to be without foundation. It is certain that Lavater was far from disposed to receive his opinions from the dictates of others, how- ever he might respect their learning or piety. He diligently examined and judged for himself, while his ardent imagination inclined him to embrace many opinions, which persons of a cooler disposition would consider as bordering, at least, on enthusiasm. The ideas he entertained on the efficacy of prayer, faith, and the gifts of the Spirit, had much of this tincture, and exposed him frequently to the animadversions of his friends, as well as of his adversaries. On these subjects he entered into a correspondence with Rese- witz, Basedow, and several other learned and religious persons ; and in the year 1769, drew up " Three Ques- tions," accompanied by a great number of citations and remarks, which he printed and sent round to a number of divines, who were personally known to him, and many others with whom he was only acquainted by their v/ritings or general character. These ques- tions he prefaced with an earnest request that they _would favour him with explicit answers to them. "Turn not aside," says he, "Christian reader, either to the right hand or to the left : let me have neither exclamations nor declamations, but an explicit answer, agreeable to the principles of just reasoning.— To any- Jtliing else I shall not reply," The substance of these questions, which, with the passages cited, would be too long to be given here, are contained in the following observations on the LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. 1/ same subjects, which we shall give in Mr. Lavater's own words from a tract he published about the same time. " I consider this inquiry as merely a critical exami- ! nation of the true doctrine of the writers of the scrip- tural books, without considering whether daily expe- rience agrees with their representations. The question is only, what have they really taught ? " I find that these authors all agree that the Divine Being has revealed himself to certain men in an im- mediate and more evident and distinct manner, than by the customary operations and changes of nature. All of them relate appearances of the Deity, and acts of the Deity, which are not to be expected in the ordi- nary course of nature ; occurrences which manifestly depart from all our known experience of nature. They represent the Deity as a being to whom man can speak, and who returns him an answer. " I find that the scriptural authors ascribe these unusual operations to the Spirit of God. Spirit, or as the word originally signifies, wind, has two essential properties, invisibility and sensible activity — sensible operations, of which no natural cause can be assigned, are ascribed to the Spirit of God, or the Holy Spirit. " I find further, that the authors of these writings are of opinion that it is one of the most excellent merits of the crucified Nazarene Jesus, that the imme- diate communication between the human race and the Deity, which had been interrupted by unbelief and ignorance of God, shall be restored. Man shall again by him be brought to a communion with God, which Ivi MEMOIRS OF THE has some resemblance to that in which he himself stands with the Deity. I find that they endeavour to confirm this idea by facts, which appear to place the meaning of these expressions beyond all doubt. " These authors say expressly, that the purpose of God to bring man, through Christ, to an immediate communion with his Spirit, was an eternal purpose ; that the promises of the gift of the Holy Ghost extend to all men who believe in Jesus Christ. They under- stand by these gifts of the Holy Spirit, as the facts they have related with so much simplicity evideq^ly show, not those gifts or powers which are not to hs distinguished from the natural or usual powers of the persons in whom they reside, but powers and proper- ties which are sensibly extraordinary, and by which their resemblance to Christ is rendered manifest. " In fine, which again leads us to the same result, I find in these sacred writings, frequent recommen- dations of faith in God. They assert that the simple receiving of the divine testimony bestows a power, far exceeding the usual powers of man. All things are possible, say they, to them which believe ; and they record histories according to which men, by the power of faith, have healed the sick, raised the dead, made the lame to walk, and the dumb to speak. There is not a word to signify that faith shall continue to bestow this power only during one, two, or three centuries, but it is said generally — ' Whosoever believeth in me hath eternal life.' — In the same manner it is said — ' He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also, and greater works than these shall he do.' LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Ivh " Should I be mistaken in this, which I do not believe that I am, another way still remains, which leads precisely to the same point. I mean the Scrip- ture doctrine of the power of prayer. The scriptural authors support the opinion that the Deity causes that to come to pass which is prayed for with firm faith. ' God heareth the prayer of the faithful.' The effects which they ascribe to prayer are not mere natural con- sequences of the act of praying in the heart of the person who prays ; they are positive external effects which have no visible connexion with the prayer itself. This doctrine they teach by precepts, and confirm by circumstantial histories. They do not, by a single word, or intimation of any kind, limit this power of prayer to certain persons, circumstances, or times. "I thus come to this proposition. — The scriptural writers are of opinion that it is possible, that it is the destination of man, to maintain a peculiar and imme- diate communion with the Deity." We have already mentioned an instance of the enthusiasm of Lavater on this subject, when almost a child, in the case of his school-exercise. The follow- ing anecdote, related by himself, will show, that he retained the same ideas, and acted according to the opinion he has here expressed, in his riper years. His mother, notwithstanding she possessed many excellent qualities, had yet some failings which were a cause of uneasiness to her son, and frequently a trial of his patience. In his confidential correspondence with his friends Felix and Henry Hess, especially the latter, he had occasionally made, though with great Iviii MEMOIRS OF THE tenderness, some observations on tliis part of her character. The answers to these letters, which had relation to the same subject, he had carefully concealed in' a place where he thought they would not be dis- covered, knowing that should they be seen by his mother, they would give her much oifence, and pro- bably occasion great uneasiness in the family. His prudent precaution was, however, ineffectual. One day, when he entered his chamber, he saw, to his great surprise and alarm, his mother sitting at the table with all these letters thrown into a basket that stood by her — " You see, Hans," said she, " I have found all your private correspondence. I must gratify my curiosity to learn what is the subject of it." — Lavater, as he frequently assured his friends, was thunder- struck, and knew not in what manner to act. He, however, had recourse to earnest and humble solicita- tion of that divine aid in which through life he put his trust. He hastened into an adjoining chamber, threw himself on his knees, and prayed fervently that his mother might not read the letters. When he returned, he found that she had not proceeded to open any of them, they all lay together as before, in the basket ; and she returned them to him without having read a single letter. This incident, though it may only excite a smile from the generality of readers, made a forcible impression on the ardent mind of Lavater, and greatly contributed, as he himself declared, to confirm him in his conviction of the truth of the doctrine he be- lieved to be taught in the Scriptures, of the efficacy of prayer with faith in all the occurrences of life. LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. lix At the same time it is to be observed, that it cannot be objected to Lavater, that he was only strenuous for the speculative doctrines of religion, or the efficacy of faith, while he disregarded the practical part and moral duties of Christianity. The following resolutions, which contain the rules he laid down for his observance through life, will show how sincerely and zealously he attended to the latter. " I will never, either in the morning or evening, proceed to any business, until I have first retired, at least for a few moments, to a private place, and im- plored God for his assistance and blessing. " I will neither do nor undertake anything which I would abstain from doing if Jesus Christ were stand- ing visibly before me ; nor any thing of which I think it possible that I shall riepent in the uncertain hour of my certain death. I will, with the divine aid, accus- tom myself to do every thing, without exception, in the name of Jesus Christ, and as his disciple ; to sigh to God continually for the Holy Ghost ; and to pre- serve myself in a constant disposition for prayer. " Every day shall be distinguished by at least one particular work of love. " Every day I will be especially attentive to pro- mote the benefit and advantage of my own family in particular. " I will never eat of drink so much as shall occasion to me the least inconvenience or hindrance in my business; and between meal-times (a morsel in the evening excepted) I will abstain, as much as possible, from eating, and from wine. ]x. MEMOIRS OF THE " Wherever I go, I will first pray to God that I may commit no sin there, but be the cause of some good. " I will never lay down to sleep without prayer; nor, when I am in health, sleep longer than, at most, eight hours. " I will every evening examine my conduct through the day by these rules, and faithfully note down in my journal how often I offend against them. " O God ! thou seest what I have here written. — May I be able to read these my resolutions every morning with sincerity, and every evening with joy and the clear approbation of my conscience !" The " Journal of a Self-observer," which was pub- lished by Zollikofer at Leipsic, in 1771, is, in fact, the journal of Lavater, but with evidently altered dates. It is also not the same as it came from his pen. One of his friends, who had procured a copy of it, had made such alterations as he judged necessary, and sufficient to disguise it from the author. He then transmitted it to Zollikofer, who, convinced that its publication might do much good, caused it to be printed, and greatly surprised Lavater, by sending him a copy. In the year 1769, Mr. Lavater entered on the regular exercise of his duties as a minister, by being appointed deacon and preacher to the orphan house at Zurich. It was his own wish to have been the pastor of some congregation in the country; bat Providence had des- tined him to act in a more enlarged sphere, and more suited to his talents and connexions. In the year 1 769, Mr. Lavater published his trans; lation of the second part of Bonnet's " Palingenesia," LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. ]xi which contains an " Examination of the Proofs of Christianity." In his zeal for religion, and actuated by an ardent desire that every friend he esteemed should believe the truths of Christianity, truths of such importance to their present and eternal happiness, he prefixed to his translation a dedication to Moses Mendelsohn, the celebrated literary Jew of Berlin, in which he thus addressed him : — " I know your acute penetration, your steadfast love of truth, your incorruptible impartiality, your ardent esteem for philosophy, and the writings of Bonnet in particular ; nor can I forget the liberality and mode- ration with which you judge of Christianity, notwith- standing you have not embraced that religion ; and the philosophical esteem, which in one of the happiest hours of my life, you expressed for the moral character of its founder. I am therefore encouraged to entreat and conjure you, in the presence of the God of truth, the Creator and Father of us both, not — to read this work with philosophical impartiality, for that I am certain you will, without any such request from me ; — but publicly to controvert it, if you find the argu- ments by which the facts of Christianity are supported not conclusive ; or, if you find them just, to act as reason and the love of truth require, — as Socrates would have acted had he read this book and found it unanswerable." So public an appeal to Mendelsohn on a subject so delicate, gave the latter not a little uneasiness, as it placed him in a somewhat embarrassing situation with his friends of the Jewish religion. The adversaries of Ixii MEMOIRS OF THE Lavater were loud in condemning the impropriety and rashness of the step he had taken, which, in fact, he himself afterwards regretted. Several letters passed between him and Mendelsohn on this subject, which were collected and published in a small pamphlet, in 1770, under the title of" Letters of Moses Mendel- sohn and John CasparLayuter." """"The"answers of Mendelsohn are written with the greatest moderation and propriety. — -" I am fully con- vinced," says he to Lavater, " that what you have done has proceeded from the purest source, and is to be ascribed to the most friendly and benevolent inten- tions ; but I cannot deny that there is nothing I should less have expected than such a public challenge from a man like Lavater. You recollect the confidential conversation which I had the pleasure to have with you in my study. — If I am not mistaken, assurances were given that no public use should ever be made of any words that might then be spoken ; but I would much rather suppose myself to be mistaken than that you have been guilty of a breach of promise. My unwillingness to engage in religious controversy pro- ceeds neither from fear or imbecility of character. I did not begin to seek my religion only yesterday. Had I not, after many years of inquiry, been fully determined in favour of my own religion, it must have become apparent by my public conduct ; or were I indifferent to both religions, or a disbeliever of all revelation, I should know what prudence advises when conscience is silent. — Of the truth of the essential doctrines of my religion 1 am as firmly convinced as LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Ixiii yourself or M. Bonnet can be of yours. You ought not to have suppressed the conditional clause in that esteem for the moral character of the founder of your religion, which I expressed in the conversation that passed between us. " According to the principles of my religion, 1 shall not attempt to convert any person not born under our law. Moses has given us the law : it is an inheritance of the sons of Jacob. All the other nations of the earth are, as we believe, required by God to act comform- ably to the law of nature, and the religion of the patriarchs. Those who thus act we call virtuous men of other nations, and esteem them children of eternal salvation. I have the happiness to have for my friends many excellent men who are not of my religion ; I enjoy the pleasure of their conversation, winch im- proves and delights me. Never has my heart secretly exclaimed : — ' Mischief is reserved for ye, noble souls ! ' " Nothing but the earnest appeal of a Lavater could have induced me to make this open avowal of my sentiments, which I now do in order that silence may neither be considered as contempt or consent. M. Bonnet may probably have written only for such readers who, like himself, are convinced, and only read to confirm themselves in their faith. His in- ternal conviction and a laudable zeal for his religion have given a weight, in his opinion, to his demonstra- tions, which another may possibly not find in them." Lavater, before he received this letter, had heard from many of his friends, that the author of the work Ixiv MEMOIRS OF THE he had translated greatly disapproved of this dedi- cation, and considered it as an act of indiscretion towards Mendelsohn, which opinion was afterwards, candidly avowed to him by Bonnet. This gave him much uneasiness; though he was conscious that he had acted from the sincerest and best intentions. He, in consequence, wrote the following letter of apology to Mendelsohn : " Respected Sir, " I address you thus because I sincerely believe you deserving of respect. I have been induced by motives the most sincere and well-meaning to dedi- cate to you my translation of the " Palingenesia" of Bonnet. The author of the work thinks that I have acted indiscreetly in what I have done. Many of my friends at Berlin are of the same opinion. If you think so likewise, be pleased only to intimate to me, or any friend of mine, in what manner I may make reparation for this indiscretion, though in fact, I can scarcely conceive it to be such. At any rate, I shall be satisfied if you will examine and maturely consider my conduct in this particular. " Forgive me — what? that I highly esteem aud love you ? that I most ardently wish your happiness in this world and in that which is to come ? — Forgive me, however, if I have chosen an improper mode of expressing this esteem, and this wish." While this letter was on its way to Berlin, Mr. Lavater received from Mendelsohn that from which LIFE 01- J. C. LAVATER. Ixr we before gave an extract. In the answer which he immediately returned to it, he observes that he can- not entirely repent of what he had done, though so many of his friends, as well as the author of the work, had expressed their disapprobation of the dedication. " My intention," says he, " was not to force from you a confession of your faith ; but as I believed the causv, of Christianity to be excellently defended by M. Bon- net, I entertained a hope that I should effect what I. conceived to be of much more importance than the translation of the work, if I could induce you to undertake a careful examination of it. Your kind and liberal letter has confirmed the judgment of my friends, and fully convinced me that I was in the wrong. I therefore recall my unconditional challenge in which I was not sufficiently justifiable, and thus pub- licly request your pardon for my too great importunity, in which I was in the wrong, in my address to you. " It would give me the greatest uneasiness could I imagine that you suppress, merely from politeness and friendship, a suspicion that I have acted contrary to my promise ; or that you could allow the public to entertain the most distant surmise that, regardless of my promise, I had made such use of a private conversa- tion as must be prejudicial to you. I am, however, ready to admit, that when I mentioned the esteem you expressed for the moral character of the founder of my religion, I ought to have been more explicit, since it was limited by the condition — if he had not assumed to himself the honour of that adoration which is due only to Jehovah. Ixvi MEMOIRS OF THE " I consider the essential arguments, with respect to the proofs derived from facts, in favour of Chris- tianity, as incontrovertible. Yet must I declare, so much do I love the truth, that great as my attach- ment to my religion is, it would not prevent my leav- ing it, if I thought the falsehood of it demonstrated, or could be persuaded that the moral proofs, and proofs derived from facts, by which the divinity of the mission of Jesus is supported, have less logical value and force than those on which you found the divinity of the mission of Moses and the Prophets. " I can conceive, according to my ideas of Judaism, which I have formed from the revelation common to us both, that the Jewish religion and church aims not to be more widely extended than over the pos- terity of Israel; Christianity, on the contrary, from its nature, was designed to be a general religion, equally adapted to all nations. I, as a Christian, likewise believe — though in this many of my brethren do not agree with me to the same extent — that it is one of my most obligatory duties to extend the honour of my Lord and Master, and the truth of his religion, by every rational means, suitable to the nature of the thing, and to defend it from every hurtful prejudice. " Suffer me to declare, for the honour of truth, that I find in your writings sentiments which I more than honour, which have drawn tears from my eyes ; sen- timents which compel me, forgive my weakness, to renew the wish — would to God he were a Christian! Not that I in the least doubt that the Israelite, to whose sincerity the Omniscient must bear the same testimony LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Ixvii which [ have borne in my address, is as much regarded by him as the sincere Christian ; my Gospel teaches me that God is no respecter of persons, but that, in every nation, he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him. " I shall conclude with expressing my conviction, which I consider as equally certain as delightful,, that I shall find you, if not now, at least hereafter, among the happy adorers of him, whose inheritance is the congregation of Jacob, my Lord and Master, Jesus Christ." This letter, which was intended for publicationT" Lavater accompanied with a private letter to Men- delsohn, in which he says — "I submit it to your jus"^ tice, whether you will leave the public still under the influence of that suspicion, so afflicting to my heart, whichis conscious of its innocence, that I have been guilty of a violation of my promise, by the general mention I have made of a conversation which passed between us. I certainly thought that I could not add the condition on which you expressed your esteem for the founder of the Christian religion without a depar- ture from that promise." In a second letter written somewhat later, in con^ sequence of a number of false and ridiculous stories which were then circulated relative to this affair, he admits that he gave the promise alluded to, but de- clares that he understood it in the sense, that he would not make any indiscreet discovery of any thing that might be said against Christianity in the course of the conversation. In this letter he likewise mentions an Ixviii MEMOIRS OF THE idle report, that he had written to some person, that could he but pass eleven days in perfect sanctity and continual prayer, he was fully convinced that he should obtain the conversion of Mendelsohn — " This," says he, " is too ridiculous to require contradiction. It is also reported that I have said, that I was anxiously concerned for the salvation of your soul — such a thought never entered my mind. We may be- lieve that there are superior and inferior degrees of beatitude, without supposing that there can be no ^alvation without the pale of the church." Mendelsohn concluded this correspondence by de- claring, in the most express manner, his full conviction of the sincerity, benevolent intentions, and friendly disposition of Lavater towards him — " His letters to me," says he, " exhibit, in my opinion, his moral character in the most advantageous light. We find in them the most indubitable proofs of true philanthropy and sincere religion : an ardent zeal for goodness and truth, an unbiassed integrity, and a modesty approach- ing to profound humility. It rejoices me extremely, that I had formed a true estimate of the worth of so noble a mind. It is an extreme excess of goodness and modesty in such a man as Lavater, publicly to ask my pardon — why should he? — I again as publicly declare that I have never considered myself as offended or injured by him. The importunity, as he himself terms it, which might be discommendable in his dedication, could only have proceeded from a too ardent and incautious love of truth, and must carry with it its own excuse." LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Ixix In the years 1770 and J 771, so great a dearth pre- vailed in Switzerland that many of the poor died of hunger, and all were reduced to the greatest distress. The charity of Lavater was on this occasion extremely active. Though not rich, as he derived but very little profit from his situation as preacher to the orphan- house, and almost the only income he could at that time call his own, was the produce of his publications, he yet gave away all he could possibly spare ; and by constantly enforcing in his sermons the duty of being charitable to the poor, and personally applying at the houses of the opulent to solicit alms for their relief, he obtained considerable sums to distribute, and hun- dreds had cause to bless his pious and indefatigable benevolence. In 1770, Lavater wrote his " Reflections on Myself" — a " Collection of Spiritual Songs" — an " Ode to God" — and "'tre""^hristian Manual for J^hildren^" which was published in 1771. In the same year, he likewise transcribed his " Journal of a Self-Observer," — II. iirui. m il I. ■■ II. ■■iii—iiiiii*i» which was afterwards published, without his know- ledge, by Zollikofer, making such alterations and additions as he judged requisite, and communicated it in manuscript to many of his friends. In 1771, he published a " Biographical Eulo^ium of Breitinger ;" ' _ - iiiMi Y?.i r - .° ,..,.,.- , ,.-,Ti-o «' and in the same year again addressed the public on the subject of faith and prayer, and the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit. The "T hree Questions ," which he published about two years before, have already been mentioned. To these a variety of an- swers had appeared, in most of which, he tells us, IxX MEMOIRS OF THE instead of a precise answer to clear and precise ques- tions, he found only exclamations and declamations, sneers and ridicule, or sighs and lamentations over the consequences which such a doctrine might be ex- pected to produce. In those which condescended to reason on the subject, the principal argument insisted on was, that we must be guided by facts and expe- rience in our interpretation of the sense in which such passages of Scripture, as contain promises of miraculous powers, are to be understood. Lavater replied to these by publishing a kind of circular letter, in which he requested all his friends, and, in general, all inquirers after truth, to assist him by the communication of all such facts as had come to their knowledge, which might tend to prove that these scriptural promises extend to the present times. " "We must examine," says he, "whether, after the death of the apostles, and of those who through them and during their lives had received the Holy Ghost or preternatural powers, there be any certain historical examples of effects of prayer, faith, and the gifts of the Holy Spirit, which are entirely or in part similar to the miraculous events related in the Gospel ; and whether it be credible that the numerous relations of this kind transmitted to us by so many fathers of the church, and other ecclesiastical writers, can all, without exception, be false. "You will render me a very grateful service if you will point out to me the most remarkable facts of this kind, or the historians who have recorded them; which you consider as certain or doubtful ; and also if you LIFE O* J. C. LAVATER. Ixxi would direct me to such writers as have treated this subject with impartiality. " I wish to ask all the friends of truth whether no positively certain or credible events are known to them, which have happened since the Reformation, and which are entirely or in part similar to those miraculous effects of prayer, faith, and the Holy Spirit, recorded in the Gospel; events which have imme- diately followed prayer, or some positive exertion of faith, and which were not to be expected to take place in any natural manner ? I wish such facts however to be communicated with the requisite proofs, or at least with an intimation where T may find such proofs. " It is not of less importance to me to know, whether there be any incontrovertible example of a living pious and conscientious man, who will declare before the omniscient God — I have prayed, offering up my peti- tion, according to the precept of the Gospel, with un- doubting expectation that I should be heard, and I was not heard. God answered me not. " I shall add nothing with respect to the importance of ihis inquiry, the object of which is to ascertain, whether the sufferer, whom no human wisdom or power can relieve, may still, in the same manner as the first Christians, have recourse to the omnipotent power of Christ ; whether the Christian of the eigh- teenth century, as well as the Christian of the first, may attain to an immediate arid visible communion with God through Christ ? Can there be an inquiry more important to the friend of humanity, who views around him so much dreadful misery ; or to the Chris- IXXII MEMOIRS OF THE tian who every-where sees infidelity, and the empty,,, mere profession of Christianity triumph ? "The strictest impartiality and love of truth must be observed in this inquiry. I can conceive no crime more impious and shocking than, either from incre- dulity or attachment to a preconceived opinion, to, deny or purposely to conceal a visible operation of the Deity, which must tend to the comfort of human kind — or from superstition, and attachment to opinion, falsely to ascribe to him such operations ; and aflSrm that God has done what he has not done." This public invitation was answered by many letters addressed to Mr. Lavater from various persons, and containing numerous wonderful anecdotes, with the proofs, or pretended proofs, of the extraordinary facts. He examined them all with an industry and careful- ness which can scarcely be conceived, except by those, who were well acquainted with his character — " There "is scarcely any proverbial expression," he would say to his friends, " which seems more liable to exceptions than that which asserts that we willingly believe what we incline to wish. With respect to myself, I know that in such cases I am more disposed to doubt, and examine with much more scrupulous attention." He was well convinced that most of the relations trans- mitted to him, neither bore the stamp of genuine simplicity, nor were supported by proofs in any man- ner satisfactory; yet he impartially examined theni all ; and this impartiality and serious examination fre- quently procured him much ridicule and censure, from those who were decidedly hostile to his opinions on LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Ixxiii this subject ; while, at the same time, his rejection, after examination, of the claims of those who pre- tended to extraordinary gifts and powers was revenged by them with invective and insult. In the course of his inquiries into the proofs of facts of this nature, he became implicated in some transac- tions which at the time excited considerable attention, and occasioned many unmerited reflections on his, credulity and conduct. A widow of the poorer class of people, named Catharine Kinderknecht, who resided about a mile out of the town of Zurich, pretended to possess ex- traordinary gifts, and to have experienced, on many occasions, remarkable answers to her prayers. She was encouraged and supported by a young clergyman, who, knowing Lavater's peculiar opmions, applied to him, and represented the widow as a living instance that the power of faith promised to the sincere Chris- tian had not ceased. Lavater was at first much im- pressed by the apparent piety, the fervency of manner, and the fluent discourse of this woman ; but he had doubts ; for she was either really too great an enthu- siast, or over-acted her part. She, however, found believers in her pretensions ; and, among others, some relations of the celebrated Fuseli, who had accompanied Lavater on his journey to Berlin. One of these had a complaint in his arm which baffled the skill of the surgeons he had employed ; and he was persuaded to have recourse to the prayers of Mrs. Kinderknecht. While she was praying, he thought it was impressed on his miud that he should pluck a cabbage leaf in Ixxiv MEMOIRS OF THE his garden, and apply it to the diseased limb. He then opened the Bible several times, and, the third time, the passage presented itself in which Isaiah pre- scribes a plaster of figs for the recovery of Hezekiah. This encouraged him to apply the cabbage leaf, and it had, at least for the time, a salutary effect. Here was a miracle that could not be contested. Lavater, how- ever, was not satisfied ; and it was considered as very extraordinary, that he who was an avowed believer in the power of faith should entertain doubts in a case so evident. '' About the time of Lavater's first acquaintance with the widow, he had conceived the idea of building a small house, at a little distance from the town, as a place of retirement, when he wished to avoid interrup- tion. By the inducement of the young clergyman he began to build, but soon after desisted, and the house was finished by Mrs. Kinderknecht and her patron ; and here the clergyman preached, the prophetess prayed with ecstatic fervour, and congregations of won- dering auditors assembled, which continually increased. Though Lavater never went to these meetings, he was blamed by many as the author and encourager of the enthusiastic scenes acted at them ; and his enemies sneeringly called the house "Lavater's Miraculatorium." Lavater, who entirely disapproved of these proceed- ings, wrote a letter of reprehension, conceived in very strong terms, to the preacher, in which he declared his disbelief of the inspiration and superior gifts to which the widow pretended ; and as he found that Fuseli, though he had at first been led away by the enthu- LIFE OF J. C. LAVATEU. IxxV siastic pretensions of these people, would listen to reason, he went with him to the preacher and the pro- phetess, by whom he was received with insult and abuse. The issue of the conference was that Fuseli, who confessed that his arm, with respect to a real cure, was still in the same diseased state, was greatly detached from them, and afterwards entirely renounced all connexion with them. At length the consistory, at the suggestion of the magistrates, issued a prohibi- tion against any person, for the future, preaching or praying in the place where these meetings were held. The minister submitted to the authority and command of his superiors, and Lavater, by his mild and gentle behaviour towards him, and by the force of his argu- ments, at length induced him to renounce his enthu- siasm and error. An incident which a short time after happened to Lavater, and which, with respect to the facts, appears to admit of no doubt, contributed probably not a little to confirm him in his ideas of preternatural communi- cations. In August, 1773, he made a journey to Richters- weile, to visit his friend Doctor Hotze. After his arrival there, he wrote to his wife that he was in per- fect health, and that no accident had happened. But the next day she was attacked with a remarkable low- ness of spirits, and a sudden impression on her mind, that her husband had either met with some dreadful misfortune, or was in the most imminent danger. She came down stairs from the room in which she was, and made known her anxiety and distress to her father-in- Ixxvi MEMOIRS OF THE law; who replied, that as she had received, only the preceding day, the fullest assurance of her husband's safety, under his own hand, she ought not to yield to such fancies, which certainly had no foundation in reality. This answer had for the moment a consolatory effect; but no sooner had she returned to her chamber, than she felt herself again overpowered by the same melancholy ideas; she threw herself on her knees, burst into tears, and, in an agony of distress, ear- nestly prayed for the safety of her husband, and his deliverance from any danger to which he might be exposed. At this very time Lavater was crossing the lake of Zurich, in a small vessel, to go from Richtersweile to Oberreid, to visit M. Daniker, a respectable minister who resided there, when so violent a storm arose that the masts and sails were carried away, and the sailors themselves despaired of being able to save the vessel. Lavater suflfered all the terrors of approaching death, which appeared to be inevitable. With anxious affec- tion his thoughts recurred to his beloved wife and children, whom he feared he should never again behold in this world, while he prayed fervently to heaven for deliverance ; and was delivered, for the ship weathered the tempest, and all on board reached the shore in safety. We shall here subjoin another anecdote, somewhat similar, relative to professor Sulzer, as related in a letter to a friend, by Mr. Lavater, who was always particularly attentive to such facts as he thought tended to prove immediate supernatural agency, the. LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. IXXVU reality of presentiment, or powers in human nature unknown to, and unconceived by us. The professor told him, that in his twenty-second year, he was once suddenly attacked with an extraor- dinary melancholy and anxiety, without his being able to assign any cause for it from his own situation, with respect to any external circumstances. It seemed to be impressed on his mind, that his future wife at that moment suffered by some severe and dangerous ac- cident, though he then had neither any thought of marrying, nor any knowledge whatever of the person who afterwards became his wife. Ten years after, when he was married, and had almost forgotten this incident, he learned from his wife, that precisely at that time, when she was a girl of only ten years of age, she was nearly killed by a violent fall, from the injurious eflFects of which she had never entirely recovered. These extraordinary relations we give as we find them, and leave- to our readers to form their own opinion of them, and choose, according to their several preconceived ideas, whether they will ascribe the facts they state to preternatural impulse, to some secret energies of our nature, or to a mere casual coincidence of events. That they were to be attributed to the latter, Lavater certainly did not believe. In the beginning of 1773, Mr. Lavater lost his mother, and the following year his father, soon after whose death he found his health in so impaired a state, that he made a journey to Ems, near Nassau, to make -use of the baths at that place. In this journey he for Ixxviii MEMOIRS OF THE the first time saw Gothe, whom he found at Frankfort, and who accompanied him to Ems ; he likewise formed a personal acquaintance with Basedow, and several other eminent men, respectable for their learning or their piety. The numerous opportunities he had of seeing and conversing with a great variety of persons, and ex- amining their characters and dispositions, were parti- cularly favourable to those physiognomonical inquiries to which he appears to have been addicted, in some degree, very early in life ; and which, from about the year 1770, to his death, he prosecuted with the greatest ardour, and even enthusiasm. His first pro- duction on this subject was a small work, printed at Leipsic; in 1772, entitled, " John Caspar Lavater on Physiognomy." It contains the fundamental principles, andlhe~substance of several of the essays, given in a more ample manner, in his great work, of which the first volume appeared in 1775, under the title of " Physiogno monical Fragments , for the Prom otion of the Knowledge and Love of^Mankind,'' and the fourth in 1778."^ On the publication of the first volume of this work, M. Zimmermann, the celebrated physician of Hanover, between whom and Lavater many communications had before passed on the subject of physiognomy, wrote him a congratulatory letter, in which he says — " Your penetration appears to me more than human ; many of your judgments are divinely true. No book ever made on me a more profound impression ; and I cer- tainly consider it as one of the greatest works of LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. 1 XXIX genius and morality that ever appeared. You may rely on my encouragement and support in every pos- sible manner. How happy am 1 in the friendship of Lavater!" With respect to the effect that Mr. Lavater 's opinions concerning physiognomy had on his general conduct, the following passage from his life by M. Gessner, his son-in-law, who may be supposed to have had many opportunities of forming the judgment he has given, may not be unacceptable to the reader. " Whoever was intimately acquainted with Lavater must bear testimony with me, that his ideas on the subject of physiognomy tended only to enlarge his benevolence and philanthropy. A hundred times have I been witness, that on account of the advantageous dispositions of mind he perceived in the physiognomy of a person, and of which he discovered the decisive tokens in the firm parts of the countenance, he has entirely disregarded the very unfavourable appear- ances exhibited by the moveable parts of the same countenance. His esteem for ^ great capacities and talents in the human mind, and his joy at discovering them were unbounded ; and he was always willing to overlook defects ; at least, he was very seldom heard to speak of them. " He relied very much on the first impression which the external appearance of any person made on him ; and he has often declared that this impression has much less frequently deceived him, than his subse- quent reasoning, when its force became weaker. — This kind of intuition certainly cannot be learned. I shall IXXX MEMOIR.S OF THE here give one of the many instances, with which I am acquainted, of the superior degree in which this in- tuition was possessed by Mr. Lavater. " A person to whom he was an entire stranger was once announced, and introduced to him as a visitor. The first idea that rose in his mind, the moment he saw him, was, ' This man is a murderer,' He, how- ever, suppressed the thought as unjustifiably severe and hasty, and conversed with the person with his accustomed civility. The cultivated understanding, extensive information, and ease of manner which he discovered in his visitor, inspired him with the highest respect for his intellectual endowments ; and his esteem for these, added to the benevolence and can- dour natural to him, induced him to disregard the unfavourable impression he had received from his first appearance with respect to his moral character. The next day he dined with him by invitation; but soon after it was known that this accomplished gentleman was one of the assassins of the late king of Sweden ; and he found it advisable to leave the country as speedily as possible." In the summer of the year 1777, Lavater received a visit from his friend Zollikofer, whom, on his return, he accompanied a part of the way. They took their joad through Waldshut, where the emperor Joseph II. then was, who hearing that Lavater was in the town, sent for him, and held a conversation with him on the subject of physiognomy. Of this conversation, Lavater has himself given the following account. . " It is impossible to describe the gracious manner LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. IxxXl in which the emperor advanced forwards to receive me. I must observe, that his countenance, and per- son, made a very different impression on me, from all the portraits and descriptions of him that I had met with, and the ideas I had formed of him from them. With the utmost condescension and affability, he said to me, with a smile : " ' Ah ! you are a dangerous man ! I do not know whether any one ought to suffer himself to be seen by you. You look into the hearts of men. We must be very cautious when we come into your company.' " 'With permission of your excellence,' answered I, ' I will say there is no honest and good man who need to fear me, if I could really look as deep into the heart as some persons may imagine I can, which I am very far from being able to do. I consider it as my duty, and it is a pleasure to me, to notice rather what is good in my fellow-men than their failings. I am, besides, myself a sinful man, who would not always wish that others should see into my heart, and whom it very ill becomes to be too severe.' " The emperor appeared perfectly satisfied with my answer. He took me to a window which was open, and with an affable smile continued the convei'sation- " ' But can you tell me,' said he, ' how you came to conceive the idea of writing on such a subject ?' " I answered, that I had occasionally drawn por- traits, and had observed particularly striking resem- blances between corresponding parts and features of the countenance of different persons ; as, for example, similar noses distinguished by particular acuteness. / Ixxxii MEMOIRS OF THE This very naturally led me to inquiries into the re- semblance that might be found in their character, dispositions, and intellectual powers, how different so- ever they might in general be ; and I found as evident resemblances in their minds as in the features of their countenances. Thus was I induced to inquire further, till gradually I arrived at the point where 1 now am. " The emperor then asked me concerning the an- cient authors, who had written on this subject, and what I thought of them. " 1 answered that I had read very few of them, but could perceive that the greater part had copied Aris- totle, and collected together a great many contra- dictory assertions. Many of them had treated the science rather with a' view to prediction of future events than rational observation; they had said and written more than they saw and felt. " ' And how,' said the emperor, ' have you treated the subject ? In what do you differ from your prede- cessors ?' " ' I believe,' said I, ' that I may assert, without in- curring the charge of self-sufficiency and arrogance, that, though I am infinitely deficient in what is indis- pensable to a good physiognomist, I have, in two respects, taken an entirely different course from all my predecessors who are known to me. I merely observe ; and assert nothing but from my own obser- vation. I have certainly affirmed much less than the old writers on the subject; but what I have said has been much more precise and defined; and in this science, accuracy and precision are of infinite impor- LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Ixxxui tance. The greatest confusion must be introduced into physiognomy, and the science be exposed to the utmost contempt, if those who treat of it express themselves in vague and general terms, and give the same name to dissimilar features, only on account of a general and remote resemblance. Thus, for example, the old authors say generally : High fore- heads, and large foreheads, betoken a feeble and slothful man. We certainly find feeble and slothful men, with large and high foreheads ; but all large and high foreheads, are not signs of feebleness and sloth. Let us recollect Julius Caesar. There are such fore- heads, which accompany extraordinary penetration, and activity. Such erroneous judgments, can only be avoided, by the most accurate precision. My endea- vours have, therefore, been directed to define the peculiarities of each part of the countenance, as accu- rately as possible, both by delineation and descriptive terms. I likewise believe that I may claim an opi- nion of my own, or that I have taken a separate and little beaten track, since I have employed my atteiition more on the firm, defined, and definable parts of the human physiognomy, than on the moveable, momen- tary, and accidental. The greater part of physiog- nomists speak only of the passions, or rather of the exterior signs of the passions, and the expression of them in the muscles. But these exterior signs are only transient circumstances which are easily disco- verable. It has, therefore, always been much more my object to consider the general and fundamental character of the man, from which, according to the KXXXIV MEMOIRS OF THE State of his exterior circumstances and relations, all his passions arise as from a root. I direct my obser- vation more to the basis, and fundamental capability of the man, to the measure of his activity, and pas- siveness ; to his capability to receive, and his power m general ; and the expressions of these, I find partly in single features, in the terminations and outlines of the forehead, the nose, the skull, or the bones; and partly in the consonance and harmonic combination of these parts in one whole. Much more difficult to recognise, but, at the same time, much more certain and decisive, are the expressions of the powers of the mind, of the actual and possible activity, and irrita- bility of the man, which are manifested in the counte- nance at rest.' " The emperor listened to me with much attention. He seemed to reflect on what I had said, and as it appeared to me, with some surprise. He for an in- stant turned, with a gracious smile, towards the open window, so that I had, for the first time, a profile view ofTiiih. I principally directed my attention to the eyes and nose. This moment of observation, when he did not look at me, was to me particularly valuable. " ' I can readily admit,' said the emperor, ' that much of the power of a man's mind, of his disposi- tion, temperament, and passions, may be discovered from his countenance; but integrity and sincerity Oh ! these are very difficult to discover by the fea- tures ! With respect to these you must be extremely careful and attentive. There is too much dissimula- tion in the world.' LIFE OF J. C. LAVATEU. IxXXV " ' There certainly is much,' answered I, 'and, un- doubtedly probity is much more difficult to discover than understanding, wit, courage, and temperament. We may assign many outlines and traits of which we can say with certainty, Where these appear in a coun- tenance, there is much understanding. But it is not thus with respect to probity. Notwithstanding this, there are certain measures of power, wisdom, and goodness, which may be combined in such just pro- portion, that integrity must almost necessarily be the result. Now each of these ingredients, which com pose integrity, has its appropriate signs, and their harmonizing may be expressed by the harmony of the features. A great portion of goodness, benevolence, and firmness, which form the basis of probity and in- tegrity, cannot easily be mistaken in a countenance.' " ' Do you not find,' said the emperor, who made several judicious objections, and heard my answers with attention ; ' do you not find, that character in the female sex is much more difficult to ascertain, and, in fact, that there is much less of peculiar cha- racter in that sex than in the male V " ' In certain respects,' replied I, ' I must answer in the affirmative; but in others in the negative.' " He smiled sarcastically, and with the significant air of a man of experience — ' Women' said he, ' are governed by men, and apt at imitation. They have no character of their own, and assume any that they choose. Their character is that of the man whom, for the time, they wish to please. They perhaps meet with one who is serious,- sedate, and prudent, and IxXXvi MEMOIRS OF THE who in some particular or other pleases them — ^imme- diately they are sedate and serious — sooii after ano- ther comes, who is gay and lively ; and as they have not attracted the notice of the formerj they now become lively and gay, merely to please their new associate. What then is their character? Who can ascertain their disposition from their countenance ? The phy- siognomist may study then a long time, and when he thinks he has obtained certainty, on a sudden they are totally changed.' " ' I admit,' answered I, ' that these remarks of your excellence are, in general, well founded, and that it is, to a certain degree, undoubtedly true, that wo- men are what they are only through men ; or, rather, that they assume, in the presence of men, the cha- racter which they think most proper to be assumed; yet at the same time there are certain firm, unchange- able,' undisguiseable features, tokens of the internal basis of their character, in which the physiognomist will not easily be deceived. It indeed cannot be de- nied, that as their physiognomy is less bony, less projecting, less strongly delineated, it is not so easily to be defined, as that of strongly-formed, firm-boned men. But if we always, in the first place, direct our attention to the sum of reoeptibility and power, and the basis of their character, to the grand outline and form of the countenance, we shall not greatly err. It can never be sufficiently repeated, that thefe is so much in every human countenance that is independent of all the arts of dissimulation, that we ought liot to fear those arts. Only the moveable features are LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. IxXXvil within the influence of dissimulation ; the real coun tenance, or the basis of those features, is beyond its power.' " ' But consider,' said the emperor, ' should you be able to assign precise principles, and your obser- vation become a certain and attainable science, what a revolution you must produce in the world. All men would view each other with very different eyes.' " ' I confess,' replied I, ' that my head frequently turns giddy, only at the thought of all the changes which physiognomy might produce in the mass of the human race — but it will produce no such changes.' " The account given by Mr. Lavater of his conversa- tion with the emperor Joseph, contains some other particulars of less importance ; but the above extract, as it serves to elucidate his ideas and opinions on the subject of physiognomy, will no doubt be most accept- able to the reader. The sentiments of Lavater on the subject of phy- siognomy have frequently been misrepresented, with a view to render him ridiculous, or froni still baser motives ; and even judgments on portraits have been ascribed to him, which he never gave. About the year 1783, some time after his great work on physiog- nomy had been translated into Dutch, he received a letter from the Hague, informing him that a very unwarrantable liberty had been taken with his name by a shameless libeller, who had asserted, in some fugitive publication, that the silhouette, or shade of a respectable person, who held a public employment of importance, had been sent to him, and that he gave on IxXXviii MEMOIRS OF THE it the following judgment—" Lorsque j'envisageois la tete que vous m'avez envoyee, je demeurai pour un moment muet d'etonnement de voir ^idevant mes yeux I'ambition telle que je me I'a suis tousjours representee sous une forme humaine— la hardiesse, I'esprit de sedition, la despotisme me frapp^rent comme autant de coups de foudre, lances contre le genre humain par ce monstre. La vengeance, le trahison, I'emeute^ viola ce que sa bouche semble exhaler."* "Whoever," said Lavater, in his answer to this letter, " is in the least acquainted with me, either per- sonally or by my writings, must know that a judgment so severe, malignant, and so entirely destitute of all love for human nature, could never proceed from my heart, my lips, or my pen; and that I avoid and abhor every thing that can cause or promote dissension and enmity. But to those who have no knowledge of me, I must calmly and solemnly declare, before the Omniscient who shall judge me, that the opinion in question was not given by me, either in whole or in part; either immediately or mediately, but has been imprudently ascribed to me with a total disregard to all morality and all truth." It appeared to be of the more importance to insert the above anecdote, as the reader may possibly recol- * When I looked on the head which you have sent to me, I remained for some moments mute with astonishment, at seeing thus before my eyes ambition, such as I have always represented it to myself, under a human form— audacity, the spirit of sedition and despotism, transfixed me like so many thunderbolts launched against the human race by this monster. His mouth seemed to exhale vengeance, treason, and popular tumult. LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Ixxxix lect other opinions reported to have been given by Lavater on the portraits of distinguished persons, which there is every reason to believe are equally destitute of foundation. Before we quit the subject of Mr. Lavater's phy- siognomonical opinions and writings, it will be proper to notice the work, of which a translation is presented to the public in these volumes.* We shall, therefore, subjoin the account of the publication of this edition as it stands in the " Life of Lavater," by Mr. Gessner, his son-in-law, who may be supposed to have been well acquainted with the real opinions of a person so nearly related to him on this, as well as other subjects ; and as it may serve for a sufficient answer to some remarks which have been made relative to it, and in which even the character of Mr. Armbruster, the editor, has not been spared. "In 1783, Mr. Armbruster, at the instance of Mr Lavater, prepared and published an octavo edition of the great work on physiognomy, re- duced to a smaller form; but with respect to whatever is essential, a complete and perfect work. This edi- tion Mr. Lavater himself very carefully revised, which revision is certified under his own hand at the end of the volume ; it is illustrated with a great number of plates ; and it was Mr, Lavater's avowed opinion that this work, which is sold for nearly the tenth part of the price of the large edition, contains com- pletely all that is essential in the latter."t * Formerly comprised in three volumes royal octavo, price four gumeas, from which the present edition is printed. t Johann Kaspar Lavater's Lebensbeschreibung von seinesm Tochter- mann Georg Gessner Vol. II. p. 334 XC MEMOIRS OF THE In the year 1772, Lavater published his " Sermons on th e History of Jo seph-" which, even in the opinion of those who were not accustomed to judge very favourably of him and his works, had distinguished merit. In the following year appeared his "_Sermons_ for Festival Days;" and between 1773 and 1777, ^several' single sermons, among others one entitled, " The Unpara lleled Criminal, and his Fate :" which latterTiepreached, iii consequence of the following very extraordinary incident. On the 13th of September, 1776, a prayer day was observed at Zurich, on which occasion the sacrament is always administered. When the wine was pre- sented to the communicants, many of them observed that it appeared very thick and dirty. Several did not taste it, but those who did were soon after taken extremely ill. This, as may be supposed, excited the greatest alarm; some physicians and chemists, who were directed to examine the cans and cups, declared that poison had actually been mixed with the wine. The strictest inquiries were made to discover the author of so horrid a deed, but in vain ; the persons who had the care of the church were all found to be innocent. The magistrates omitted no means that might lead to the detection of the perpetrators of an act of such enormity. It was recommended to the ministers of the different churches to make this atro- cious deed the subject of their sermons ; and Lavater inveighed with all that ardour and zeal which might be expected from him, against this unparalleled cri- minal who however was never discovered and per- LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Xci haps never existed; for it became afterwards an almost general opinion, that all that had happened was merely to be attributed to carelessness and un- cleanliness. In 1775, Mr. Lavater was chosen pastor, or first preacher, to the orphan-house, where he was deacon or second preacher; and, in 1778, deacon of the church of St. Peter in Zurich, of which he was after- wards (in 1786) unanimously chosen pastor on the death of his colleague, M. Freytag. In the summer of 1778, in a journey which he made to Augsburg, he for the first time had a per- sonal interview with Gassner, a Catholic priest, who some years before had greatly excited his attention, and furnished the subject of several letters, which passed between him and various persons, by some extraordinary cures he was said to have wrought by prayer, and a kind of religious exorcism. These in- quiries of Lavater afforded his enemies an opportu- nity to charge him with credulity and superstition. But as he always avowed his belief, that extraor- dinary powers would accompany, and preternatural effects be produced by, an extraordinary degree of faith, he could not be censured for a candid and im- partial inquiry into accounts, the truth of which was vouched to him by persons in whose understanding and integrity he believed that he might confide. The apparent strength of this evidence will appear from the following facts. About the end of August, 1774, Doctor Hotze, of Richtersweil, communicated to his friend Lavater a xcii MEMOIRS OF THE letter which he had received from Doctor Harscher, at Constance, which contained this account of Gassner— " Joseph Gassner, a man of much piety, humiHty, and virtue, had in his youth studied medicine at In- spruck; he afterwards became a secular priest; he was at this time attacked with severe pains in the head, as often as he read mass. He had recourse to the advice of the ablest physicians, but without ob- taining any relief. In the mean time he frequently read books that treated on the subject of exorcism, and made the first trial on himself. From that moment his pains in the head left him, and he then prayed to God that he would bestow on him the power of extending the same aid to his fellow-men. I laughed at all this when I first heard it, and thought it an old woman's tale. The bishop sent for him to Morspurg, where were two sisters from Munsterlingen, extremely ill ; these he healed in the name of Jesus, and they are restored to perfect health. I come here several times in a week, but could not be convinced till I had myself twice spoken to the father. I behold won- derful and powerful cures, far exceeding our art — his expression is, ' I conjure thee in the most Holy Name of Jesus ;' and then follow effects which over- whelm me with awe." This relation will no doubt appear to the reader not a little extravagant; but Lavater, whose particular opinions predisposed him to receive it favourably, at least to examine impartially into the facts stated in it, reasoned thus — " This letter" (these are his own words) '' comes to me from a person who has always LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XCill been represented to me as a man of understanding 'i and integrity ; from Hotze, from a physician who saw both these women in their diseased state, and when restored to health; who has himself conversed with Gassner, and witnessed, as he says, the wonders he has wrought. The progress of his faith is related in this letter, in a manner that, admitting it to be true, cannot be more natural. He suffers pains, he seeks aid from men, and finds it not ; he reads, as might be expected from a catholic priest, books on the subject of exorcism ; the idea occurs to him that his sudden, painful, and incurable head-ache, attacking him only at certain times, may be the buffeting of Satan, and he has recourse to the means, which to a Christian, a catholic, and a priest, must be the most natural — to the power of the name of Jesus as a protection against his malady. He makes trial of this power, and his malady leaves him ; he wishes to extend the benefit of this power to other sufferers ; he prays to God. and receives that for which he prayed. Can any more natural, just, and Christian progress of faith and love be imagined than this ?" Lavater made all the inquiries in his power to satisfy himself whether the facts stated in this letter were true or false, or the deceptions of an impostor. He entered into a correspondence with Hotze, as also with the physicians Harscher, and Ehrhard of Memmingen, who averred that they had witnessed similar cures — " Our patients," said they, " have been healed by Gassner; we saw them, are convinced they were sick, and are now in perfect health. We can, if you re- Kciv MEMOIRS OF THE quest it, send you numerous, well-atteste,d cases of contractions, and epilepsies, which have been cured by him, and in which the patient has never suffered a re- lapse." — The celebrated Zimmermann, of Hanover, communicated to him a letter from M. Wolter, privy counsellor and personal physician to the elector of Bavaria. From this letter the following is an extract. " I send you the account, which I have drawn up for their Serene Highnesses, of the effects produced by the priest Gassner on my own daughter, the baroness of Erdt, which, as you observe, I could not have believed, had I not seen them with my eyes, and, as I may say, touched them with my hands. Of these truly extraordinary facts ; with respect at least to their historical certainty, I am perfectly assured ; though in what manner they are to be explained, I am still doubtful, and niust defer my judgment. I presented to Gassner my daughter, a woman of understanding and resolution, who was troubled with rheumatic pains in her head. He made her kneel before him, and having placed his hands on her forehead and the back part of her head, repeated some prayers in a low voice, after which he directed her to stand up, and began his exorcisms in this manner — " I command thee in the name of Jesus to fall into frenzy and con- vulsion of the head, without any other part of thy body being affected; at the same moment nature obeyed, and the patient uttered the most frantic ex- pressions ; but at the instant he pronounced the words — ' Let it cease' — she immediately was restored to her natural state, without recollecting any thing of what LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XCV had passed. He repeated similar and various com- mands, and, at length, laid his hands on her head, prayed, and gave her the blessing, and she is now free from the slightest trace of her disorder, from which, before, she almost continually suffered, in a greater or less degree." — M. Wolter afterwards adduces a number of similar facts, of which he had been an eye witness, and mentions the cases of forty-two persons of his acquaintance, who had received relief from Gassner. — " My opinion," says he, at the conclusion of his letter, " and my answer to the objections of all unbelievers is — go and see." Lavater, however, whatever his wishes might be to find confirmed, by incontestible facts, an opinion which he had openly avowed, and which had pro- cured him much ridicule and harsh animadversion, appears still to have entertained many doubts. He wrote to Doctor Wolter, inquiring whether he had observed any appearance of cunning or trick in Gassner; whether the extraordinary ceremonies he used did not seem rather of the nature of the latter than merely intended to strengthen the faith of the patient and of the bystanders. He likewise wrote to Doctor Semler, who was an avowed infidel with respect to powers of this kind, requesting that he would make inquiries. "Your unsuspected integrity," says he, " your great learning, the proofs you have given of an accurate understanding, and especially the frankness with which you deliver your opinion, have inspired me with the highest esteem for you, notwithstanding there are many things which I dis- XCVI MEMOIRS OF THE approve m your writings. Whether the facts attri- buted to Gassner be true or false, you will admit, I am persuaded, that it is of the greatest importance to make inquiry concerning them. I wish to commit to you this inquiry. These miracles, if they are true, must be capable of abiding the examination of a man who has publicly disputed the reality of possessions by the devil. I can confide in your penetration to discover deceit and imposture, if any exist in this case, and in your integrity to declare the truth, if you are convinced of it, even though this truth shall prove that you have long embraced and defended error. You will, perhaps, say, it is credulity on my part to suppose these relations may be true, or that I would endeavour to circulate them, from a fondness for my own opinion concerning the universality of the efficacy of faith and prayer. But the numerous attestations of eye and ear-witnesses, which now lie before me, must sufficiently vindicate me from the charge of credulity. And how can I act with more propriety than by committing this inquiry, with the numerous notices which I daily receive, to the exami- nation of a man who, on this subject, thinks so dif- ferently from myself; to a philosopher who is the professed antagonist of demonology. Were not truth alone my object, I should not thus make a reference to the judgment of an adversary who, in my opinion, has shown that he entertains the most deep-rooted' prejudices against all such appearances." Semler was much gratified by the confidential ap- plication of Lavater. In his answer he did not deny LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. xc.vii tlie facts, though at the same time he did not hesitate to declare, that he believed that they were to be explained by natural causes, or that some deceit would be found in them. " Such deceit," answered Lavaterp in a second letter, " must be most diabolical, or we have here the power of God in earthen vessels. Here is the evangelical power of faith, so far as the testi- mony of eye witnesses, and of the persons on whom the cures were wrought, is to be regarded." The letters which passed between Lavater and Semler on this subject, were published in 1776, under the title, " A Collecti on of Letters and Extracts, relative to the Exorcisms of G assner, with Remarks by Semler." In 1778, as has been before observed, Lavater had an interview with Gassner, in which he frankly con- fessed that he had made no favourable impression on his understanding or his heart. He witnessed none of his cures, exorcisms, nor any extraordinary eflfects produced by him. He admitted that he believed him to be sincere, according to his ideas and doctrine, but he found him destitute of spirit and feeling. This opinion he did not hesitate to avow to all his friends, and it became more public than he had, perhaps, wished. He, in consequence, soon after, received a letter from Gassner, complaining of the harsh judg- ment he had passed on him. To this letter Lavater returned an answer, the following extract from which will serve to elucidate his real opinion on this subject^ " Though during my stay with you I had not the good fortune to witness any decisive proofs of your summum mperium in nervos (powerful influence on XCVill MEMOIRS OF THE the nerves) — ^if you will not take offence at this ex- pression, which I cursorily, and without any ill inten-* tion, made use of to a philosophical physician — I was yet satisfactorily convinced of your sincerity and in- tegrity. Your system appears to me, as I have not hesitated publicly to declare, perfectly consonant with itself; and among all the hypotheses offered to explain the effects produced, I consider yours as the most probable, viz. — that all transient evils proceed from Satan, or, at least, are under his immediate influence. Far be it from me -to deny the existence and the fearful action of the kingdom of Satan : to deny this, would, in my opinion, be to deny the divinity of the holy, scriptures. — ^What I consider as agreeable to the scrip- tures, I believe to be true ; and what I believe to be true, I avow on every occasion, though I know that I shall be ridiculed for it as a fanatic and an enthusiast. I must, at the same time, as freely declare that, how- ever probable your manner of explanation appears to me, I can consider it only as an hypothesis. " Admitting that 1 may have said or written to a person accustomed to philosophical inquiry — ' Gass ner is a simple monk,' — this expression, considered as it is connected with all that I have besides said and written, will only signify — ' Do not suspect any de- ceit in Gassnerj any cunningly-devised plan. You will find him too simple a man to be capable of acting an assumed part.'— -I will likewise not deny, that, though I believe you to be pious and sincere, I did not find in you that superior degree of piety, and of the spirit of Christianity, which I expected from a LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. XCIX man of your power ; though I am sincerely con- vinced your piety may put mine to shame. — It is not possible, however, to overcome my doubts. — Tell me, therefore, what I shall do to obviate the ill impression which my misunderstood judgment concerning you — made public without my knowledge, and against my wish — may in any manner occasion to the disadvantage of truth. If you think proper to communicate this letter to any person, you are at full liberty so to do ; and if you can doubt my sincerity, I am willing to submit my heart, my opinion and conduct, with respect to you, to the examination of the whole world. I know that I do not shun the truth." The following passage of the journal of Lavater7 written after he had seen Gassner, may still further explain his opinion on this subject, and is very ex- pressive of his peculiar ideas in general. " Though," says he, speaking of Gassner, " I saw no effects produced by him, similar to those of which I had heard and read so much, and which it is impos- sible should be mere fictions, I am almost as much disposed to believe in the possibility of this power of action, of man upon man, as if I had myself been an eye-witness of every thing that is asserted to have been done ; and I think I am authorized to conjecture, that this power which resides in all men, as the image of God, is a magical power of the mind over the bodies and powers of the corporeal world, which may continually become more perfect, and by faith in the humanity of Christ, be advanced and matured to the highest and most perfect power." C MEMOIRS OF THE It will not, perhaps, excite surprise, after what has been said of the avowed opinion of Lavater on the subject of miraculous powers, and his correspondence with Gassner, that reports were circulated, that he was secretly a catholic, and that he and his whole family had formally, though privately, gone over to the catholic communion. — In fact, many pious catho-^ lies, whose friendship he greatly esteemed, believing him to be v/ ell-disposed towards their religion, in some points of importance, exerted all their powers of persuasion to complete his conversion ; and he re- ceived many letters, inviting him to enter the pale of that church, from which the writers conceived him not to be very far removed. Not only his declared belief, that the power of working miracles must con- tinue in the church, encouraged this idea; but it was even supposed, though certainly very absurdly, that his physiognomonical inquiries, and his disquisitions, in his large work on that subject, on the form and features given by painters to Christ — whom he con- ceived must have the most perfect human form, as the expression of his internal virtues and powers — ^had- disposed him to the reverence of images, or at least to an admission of their utility. But Lavater, in reality, held opinions very different from those of the catholic church, with regard to several of the most essential doctrines of the latter, particularly that of the sacrament ; to which should, perhaps, be added his extensive charity towards all other Christians, however they might differ from him with respect to creeds and ceremonies. — Yet this same charity, by LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. ci permitting him to cultivate the most intimate and friendly connexions with many respectable and learned men of the catholic church, furnished one of the grounds of suspicion, that he was himself a secret catholic. We have seen above, that Lavater was inclined to attribute the extraordinary cures, said to have been performed by Gassner, rather to natural than to d ivine and preternatural powers. He certainly was at all times much disposed to believe in occult and secret energies of nature, and eagerly inquired into all cases of this kind of which he received any accounts, and with respect to which he appears sometimes to have been too liable to imposition. To this is to be attri- buted the favourable opinion he expressed of the celebrated impostor Cagliostro, of which his enemies took advantage to report that there was a connexion between them. — In June 1783, on a journey which he made with his son to Ofenbach, he met with Cagliostro at Strasburgh, and so much was said of the interviews he had with him, that he found it necessary, in justifi- cation of himself, to give some account to his friends of his conferences with him, and his opinion of him, in which we shall find the same frank and undisguised avowal of what he really thought, which distinguished and reflected honour on Lavater on every occasion. ^ " I have seen this man," says he, " three or four times ; I have consulted him on the cases of some sick persons, and passed with him some few hours, for the most part in company with other persons, and not more than a single hour with him alone. He has Cll MEMOIRS OF THE communicated to me his theory of certain occult sciences, as they are called. I have observed him as carefully as possible ; put to him questions which were not answered, and received from him promises which were not fulfilled. Since that time we have been perfect strangers to each other ; never was there the least kind of intimacy or particular connexion between us : this my friends may securely assert on every oc- casion. — No persons could hold opinions more dia- metrically opposite to each other than he and I,^ on many subjects which I esteem most essential and most sacred. We had once a very violent altercation in consequence of my contradicting him, and declaring my doubts of some of his positions, which I thought I ought not to admit. So long as he retains his fore- head and I have mine, we shall never, here below, be confidential friends ; how frequently soever the most credulous of all the credulous may represent us as closely connected, Notwithstandinig this declaration, far be it from me, in compliance with the self-suffi- cient and hastily-judging genius of the age, to con- ceal that I have to thank him for various important services; and that — partly on account of his confor- mation, and partly in consequence of the faith which one of my most discerning and sincere friends declared, with praiseworthy constancy, even during his mis- fortunes, that he reposed in him — I consider him as a man in comparison with whom hundreds who ridicule him without having seen him, appear to be mere chil- dren. I believe that nature produces a form like his only once in a century, and I could weep blood to LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. ciii think that so rare a production of nature should, by the many objections he has furnished against himself, be partly so much misconceived ; and, partly, by so many harshnesses and crudities, have given just cause for offence. Yet truth will continue truth how much soever it may be sneered at or reviled by the above- mentioned genius of the age ; and I declare it is the truth, that he cured, among others, at my instance, with indescribable exertion and attention, the wife of my friend, of a malady till then incurable, and which to form an idea of must have been seen—' Inscitias commenta delet dies ; veritatis judicia confinnat.'"* In the summer of 1 783, many persons of the first distinction visited Lavater at Zurich, induced by the celebrity he had acquired by his writings, and the high esteem in which he was held by all who knew him for his unaffected piety and active benevolence. Among these were the Prince and Princess of Dessau ; the Margrave of Baden, with the Hereditary Prince and Princess ; the Duke of Wurtemberg ; the Prince and Princess of Rohan ; the Countess of Stolberg, and the Countess Julia Reventlow. To these illus- trious visitors he behaved with the respect which their rank claimed, but at the same time with a frankness and sincerity very distant from that obsequiousness and flattery which is incompatible with the character of a Christian. In 1785, he likewise received a visit from Count Reuss, who, with his lady, remained with him at Zurich several days, after which they proceeded • Tiine destroys the pretensions of ignorance, but confirms the truth. CIV MEMOIRS OF THE by way of Lucerne to Geneva, to which city, on their invitation, Lavater accompanied them. At Geneva he first became acquainted with what is called Animal Magnetism, which began about that time to excite general attention. It may readily be supposed that Lavater made the extraordinary efi'ects, said to be produced by this new art, the object of his industrious inquiry. The testimonies produced of the reality of these effects, appeared to him sufficient to demand his belief; and he acquired sufficient skill in the art to make a trial of its efficacy for the removal of some complaints with which Mrs. Lavater had for a long time been affected, and which he conceived to be of a nature particularly suitable to be acted upon by this new mode of treatment. He found, we are told, all the appearances follow which he had been taught to expect, and such success removed every doubt with respect to the general principle. His opinion on this subject will, however, be given with most propriety in his own words, as contained in some letters written by him to different persons about that time. " I do not," says he, " believe in the whole system of Mesmer, though I do not permit myself hastily, and without examination, to condemn a man to whom Providence appears to have intrusted a secret of na- ture. I do not, I repeat, believe in his whole system ; but I believe what I have been assured of by the most respectable witnesses, and what I have repeatedly seen with my own eyes. My brother, a very intelligent physician, who has the rare gift of uniting in himself LIFE OF J. C. JLAVATER. CV two qualities, each of which are extremely rare, that of being able strongly to doubt, and that of firmly believing, has a hundred times seen with his own eyes, what any other person may every day see, that there is a power in man which, by a certain kind of motion, may pass into others, and produce the most striking and determinate effects. I believe that many persons of delicate sensibility, especially when they suffer from nervous complaints, may, by that opera- tion which, I know not with what propriety, is called magnetization, be thrown into a divinatory sleep, in which, according to the frame of their organization, their character, and their circumstances in life, they may have much more just perceptions than they could have had waking, and frequently discern and indicate with the most punctual accuracy, things which have ■relation to themselves, and the circumstances of their health. I cannot be more convinced that I exist, than that I have, by this operation, relieved, in the most evident manner, the bodily infirmities of my wife ; and that, on any new attack, I am able to afford her the same relief. Whether the world ridicule or pity my weakness, its pity or its ridicule will not have the least effect on me : I know what I know, and see what I see, whether what I affirm be believed or riot. I disregard whether it be imagination or reality. If by imagination I am restored to health, I will prefer that beneficial imagination to the reality which renders me again diseased." "One word more with respect to magnetism: I CVl MEMOIRS OF THE consider it as a method of cure easily to be profaned, sometimes very dangerous, at all times difficult of application, not to be applied without medical caution, by no means universal in its eifects, and which has been too much extolled by some, and too much degraded and decried by others." "^ The sentiments on this subject, which Lavater ex- pressed in conversation and letters to different persons, excited the surprise of many of his friends, and drew on him from them some remonstrances, and cautions against too great credulity ; but whenever, in the course of his inquiries, he imagined that he met with facts that demanded his assent, nothing could restrain him from frankly declaring the impression they made on him, and exhibiting his ideas and his heart without disguise. In 1782, the Grand Duke of Russia (afterwards the Emperor Paul I.) with his consort, the Grand Duchess, being at Mompelgard, came to Zurich to see Lavater. They sent for him, and he remained some hours in their company, during which the conversation principally turned on physiognomy. He afterwards accompanied them to the celebrated fall of the Rhine at Schaff- hausen, and experienced from his illustrious visitors the utmost attention and condescension. Between the years 1782 and 1786, he published his " Jesus Messias, or the Gospel History, and the His- tory of the -A postles, in C antos," a poem in four volumes, which appeared successively ; and between J 782 and 1785, his " Pontius Pilate, or the Bible in LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Cvii miniature , and than at full length," in four volumes, likewise published successively! This latter produc- tion he appears to have considered as containing the most exact transcript of his character and sentiments. " It is," he says, " so written as to procure itseli many violent enemies, and few ardent friends. It is the exact impression of my mind and heart, and is, as it were, my other self. He that hates this book must hate me, and he that loves this book must love me. He who can only half approve it, can only half ap- prove my mind and heart , he whom it entirely pleases, must be my sincere and ardent friend." _ About the same time, or somewhat earlier, his " Sermons on the Existence arid Power of the Devil," made their appearance, but vfitEouTFis knowledge or consent, and he was much displeased at the manner in which they were given to the public. His enemies found in them matter for new animadversions on his opinions and enthusiasm. In 1785, he published a series of " Sermons on the Epistle of Paul to Phil emon ;" as also asmall work, entitled " Solomon, o r the Lessons of Wisdom," which he dedicated to the Hereditary Prince Frederic of Anhalt Dessau. In the following year appeared his " Nathaniel, or the Divinity of ChristiariitT^_certdnj,s indemonstrable ; forl^athaniels, thatis, for those who possess the sincere, tranquil, guileless^ans£^of_truth." The titieTflliis' work* agairTlurnrshed his adversaries with a pretext for clamour and censure, on account of the expression indemonstrable divinity of Chris- CVm MEMOIRS OF THE tianity ; but his meaning evidently was, that it did not require demonstration, or that it was incapable of demonstration, because self-evident, like a mathe^- matical axiom. In the year 1787, Prince Edward of England (now the Duke of Kent) passing through Zurich, made a visit to Lavater, and in the interview he had with him, expressed the wish of his royal mother, our illustrious and amiable Queen, to possess something in his hand- writing. Lavater complied with the request with which he was honoured, by writing some reflections, which he entitledj " A Word on the Human Heart ," and which gave him the first idea of his poem, " The Human Hea rt,!' which he printed in 1790, and styles, in the preface, the favourite child of his heart. In 1787, he published his " Miscellaneous Unphy- siognomo nical Rules, fo r the Knowledge of Ourselves "and Ma n in general ;" and in 1790, his " Manual Library for Friends ;" of which, during four successive yearsTTie published annually six volumes in duode- cimo, and in the first of these inserted the above- mentioned poem, " The Human Hear t." In 1793, he made a journey to Copenhagen, in compliance with an invitation from the late Danish Minister, Count Bernstorf, who had offered to present him with the expenses of his journey, that he might have an opportunity to converse with a person whose writings he admired, and of whose sincerity and piety he was perfectly convinced. Lavater accepted the mvitation, and set out for Copenhagen, accompanied LIFE or J. C. LAVATER. cix by his son and eldest daughter. In the course of his journey he had interviews with many learned and re- ligious men with whom he was before only acquainted by epistolary correspondence; and when he arrived at the capital of Denmark, or rather at Bernsdorf, the seat of the minister, he found himself, as he assures us, equally delighted and edified with the profound sense, the sincere love of truth, and unaffected piety of that great statesman, who retired as often as pos- sible from the tumult of public business — which he conducted with the purest views to the good of his country, superior at once both to ambitious and to sordid motives — to devote his time to meditation on the great truths of Christianity, the practice of its important duties, and the enjoyment of domestic happiness with his amiable lady. The Hereditary Prince of Denmark and his illustrious consort, like- wise, honoured our traveller, during his stay in Copenhagen, with many marks of their attention and esteem. On his return to Switzerland, he published an ac- count of his journey, but, as the title imported, " only for friends," of which, however, the first part only appeared. This journal, probably by some sin- gularities from which his writings were seldom entirely free, aiforded an opportunity to his adversaries to exercise their talents for ridicule in a kind of satirical parody on it, entitled, a " Journey to Fritzlar." We are now arrived at that period of the life of Lavater, when his love of his country shone as con- ex MEMOIRS OF THE spicuous as his sincere piety and active benevolenca had before been displayed on every occasion. The French revolution at its commencement excited in him the warmest sentiments of approbation ; he ima- gined that he saw in it the energies of the human mind burst forth with new and indescribable energy. He exulted in the idea that a great nation had shaken off the shackles of slavery, and asserted the dignity of human nature. His friends, many of them, smiled at his enthusiasm, and ventured to predict that nume- rous evils, as yet unforeseen, would but too soon prove the consequences of so hasty and ill-digested, a reformation. — Pfenninger, his colleague as assistant preacher to the congregation of St. Peter's, was among the foremost of those whose fears were jus- tified by the event ; but Lavater, judging of mankind by his own conscious integrity, could not be induced to suspect evil till he beheld it in effects no longer to be denied. But when the leaders of the popular frenzy pro- ceeded to insult and degrade the monarch, and to disregard equally every principle of morality and religion, Lavater, faithful to his genuine principles, stood forth the champion of rational government, and Christianity. In a sermon preached by him on the 2Sth of October, 1792, he thus exclaimed: " O France ! France ! example without example, dost thou not warn us, dost thou not teach us to what a state of brutal degradation a nation sinks, which, imagining itself to have attained the summit of illu- LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. Cxi mination, makes its sport of oaths, conscience and re- ligion ? " O France ! France ! banish all thy priests, destroy or sell thy temples, change thy Christian festivals into empty spectacles, and thy holy altars into altars of liberty; consider whether the word providence shall any longer be tolerated, and preach from thy few re- mJaining pulpits the religion of the Epicureans — ' let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die ;' — and then let us see what will be thy ultimate fate. Oh ! let us open our eyes while it is yet in our power to open them ; and let irreligion, the parent of every thing abominable, be to us an abomination. Let religion, which produces good order, and happiness, and virtue, and whatever is excellent or praiseworthy, be to us sacred. Every evil is the offspring of irreligion ; and all that is salutary and beneficial, of religion. Oh! may the purest religion live in us, suffer in us, work in us During all the commotions which distracted Swit- zerland, till it finally sunk under the power of the French, Lavater expressed his sentiments with equal sincerity and freedom ; and when the invaders of his country exercised their remorseless rapacity on the oppressed Swiss, he alone had the courage to remon- strate against their extortion. In May, 1798, when Switzerland was in fact subjugated by the French arms, and ravaged without mercy by the mercenary generals and officers of the republic, he wrote, and transmitted to the director Rewbel, his " Word of jL Cxii MEMOIRS OF THE Free Switzer to the Great Nation," which, when it became public, drew the attention and applause of all Europe to the courage and integrity of the writer. The following extracts from this address will show the honest boldness with which he could write to the formidable despots of those times, though he well knew his personal liberty, and even his life, was in their power : "It is a law engraven in the breast of every man, as ancient as the world, and as sacred as humanity itself — 'What thou wilt not that others should do unto thee, that do not thou unto them.' — No power can annihilate this law. A hundred thousand armed men cannot make that just which is unjust. France has no right, but the tyrannical right of the strongest, to enter Switzerland, as she says, to overthrow the aristocracy. That the aristocracy is overthrown, may be a great happiness, and may fulfil the wishes of many honest and worthy persons ; but when a high- way-robber murders a man who is an oppressor, is he on that account less a robber? The French en- tered Switzerland as robbers and tyrants ; they made war against a country which had never done them injury. As robbers they seized treasures to which they could invent no claim. They deprived Helvetia of all its real strength ; and when they, as they said, made it free, took from it every means of maintaining its liberty." The whole is in a similar strain, and he thus con- cludes : LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. cxiii "Great nation, which bast not thy equal, render not thyself contemptible to all posterity ; make re- compense for the enormous acts of injustice thou hast committed ; be no longer the scourge of nations, the tyrant over mankind, the enslaver of the free ; be no longer the oppressor of Helvetia, the ravager of Zurich ; be what thou wouldest be thought, the deliverer, ihe benefactress, the friend — and then queen of our hearts." The directory published an answer to this address, to which Lavater replied ; but as if over-awed by his courage in the just cause of his injured country, they did not proceed to take revenge by any attack on his person. On the second of April of the following year, the French, continuing to exercise the arbitrary power they had usurped in Switzerland, by means of the directory and authorities they had set up, seized on ten of the most respectable citizens of Zurich, and ordered that they should be deported, or banished from the city, on an alleged suspicion that they maintained a correspondence with the Emperor. On this occa- sion, Lavater exhibited the same courage and real patriotism, and remonstrated with those in power against this flagrant violation of the new constitution they had so lately established — " The directory," said he, in a conference he had with the Statthalter of Zurich, citizen Pfenninger, " has no power in any case arbitrarily to set aside the constitution. To disregard precise and fundamental laws is the beginning, the h CXIV MEMOIRS OF THE middle, and end of all despotism. Why is not an examination, a trial allowed? this is required by the constitution. Such conduct is an irretrievable attack on general security, which ought to be the great object of every government." On the following Sunday he addressed his congre- gation on the circumstances of the times, preaching from Romans xiii. 1 — 4. " Let every soul be subject to the higher powers," &c. " Can any thing be ima- gined," said he, towards the conclusion of his sermon, " more shameful and degrading to a government, more dishonourable to the names of justice and liberty, than that the innocent should be treated like the guilty ; the righteous like the wicked-; those who honour and submit to the powers in authority over them, like those who rise up in' rebellion against them? When those who do good must fear because they do good, who will not shudder, who will not exclaim, — Ac- cursed be that policy which will do evil that good may come of it." He now expected every day to share the fate of those whose cause he had ventured with so much boldness to defend j but he was left entirely unmo- lested till about the middle of May, when, in conse- quence of the increase of the rheumatic complaints, under which he had long laboured, he was advised by his physicians to try the efficacy of the warm baths at Baden ; to which place he accordingly repaired. On the second day after his arrival there, three municipal officers entered his apartment early' in the morning, LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. CXV and informed him that they were directed, and autho- rized to seize and seal up all his papers, and to convey him to Basle, where he was to remain during the pleasure of the Helvetic directory. His house at Zurich was searched, and the private letters he had received from his friends, and the copies of those he had written to them, which could be found, taken away at the same time. Lavater submitted, and calmly requested the emissaries of government to fulfil their commission. He, however, wrote at the same time a spirited letter to the Helvetic directory, demanding an immediate hearing, and if found innocent, which he was conscious he must be were justice regarded, to be permitted to return to his family and congregation. His boldness, and the esteem in which he was unive> sally held, probably induced the directory to comply with his request, and the next day after his arrival at Basle, he v/as admitted to a hearing. It appeared from the questions put to him, that a letter to one of his friends that had been intercepted, and which contained some expressions, which not being understood by the examiners, were considered as furnishing grounds of suspicion that he was engaged in some intrigue with their enemies, had been the principal cause of his arrest. He was asked, who the person was, concern- ing whom he inquired of his friend, of what nation he was, and where he would first open his shop, and take up his residence ? Lavater replied, that this expression had reference to a theological subject ; viz. the coming of antichrist, CXVl MKMOIKS OF THE of whom his friend had written in a preceding letter, that he believed he would soon appear. In this letter there was also the following pas- sage : — " I am very sorry for what you say of I. K. L., but it is very probably the truth." He was, therefore, asked what the letters I, K. L. signified ? T~ " Those letters," answered he, " are the initials of my name, — ^John Kaspar Lavaterj my friend had written to me that I should suffer persecution, though it would not be of long duration ; and that it was to no purpose I expressed myself with such freedom _against certain abuses." In the same letter, he had likewise said — " the Empress of Russia owes a hundred new louis d'ors to a certain friend. The communication by post is now at an end through Germany, and he wishes to know whether you can give him any advice how to obviate this embarrassment." This passage, as may be supposed, was considered as extremely suspicious. Lavater, however, explained it, by declaring that he himself was the friend alluded to : that a part of his Physiognompnical Cabinet had been purchased by the Empress of Russia, who was to remit Jiim for it a hundred louis d'ors, and he only meant to inquire in what' manner he might receive the money. This explanation might not, perhaps, have removed the suspicions of his judges, had it not been that about the same time, a letter addressed to him by LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. cXvH Baron Nicolai, the private secretary to the Empress of Russia, had been intercepted, which being candidly referred to by the Statthalter, was found to confirm the statement of Lavater, in so satisfactory a manner, that no doubt of its truth could be entertained. The hearing was, however, adjourned, and was not continued, or rather he was not examined a second time, till about a week afterwards. At this examina- tion, he was informed, that as he said, when before questioned relative to a certain person referred to in his letter, that he meant by him antichrist, he was now required to say what he understood by anti- christ 1 To this question Lavater replied : — " I have long understood, as the writings I have published will show, by antichrist, an openly daring, most irreligious despot, who will raise himself by political and magical power to be universal monarch of the world, and tyrant over the consciences of men ; who will tread under foot all justice, truth, morality, and religion ; and who will, especially, persecute in the most cruel manner, all who honour the name of Christ." He was then asked whether he considered the ap- pearance of antichrist as near, or still at a distance ? To this he answered with that frankness and cou- rage which procured him the respect even of his enemies, " I believe it to be very near, and 1 believe that I see the forerunner of antichrist in the irreli- gious sentiments and acts of the French nation. Never siace the foundation of Christianity has any Christian cxviii MEMOIRS OF THE nation acted so notoriously contrary to the principles of Christianity. This, however, is only my own pri- vate opinion, in which, perliaps, I may be mistaken, but for which I do not conceive myself responsible to any earthly judge." He was then told, that it appeared to the directory, from some passages in his correspondence with his friend, that he wished the downfall of their authority ; and he was asked how he justified such a wish. He boldly replied, " 1 will ingenuously declare what I think on this subject. I wish with my whole heart, that all those members of the (Helvetic) directory, whom I have reason to believe the authors of the terrorist and unconstitutional measures that have been adopted, may be removed from authority in some manner, so it be not by violence, unless they totally change their sentiments and principles. Every ra- tional patriot must wish that a judge who determines arbitrarily, despotically, and without regard to the laws, and who tears from their families a hundred innocent fathers and husbands, may no longer remain a judge." After this examination, Mr. Lavater remained under arrest till the 10th of June, when, after he had passed a very uneasy night, in consequence of a violent attack of his cough, the Statthalter entered his apartment in the morning, saying : " I bring you here something to cure your cough," — and immediately produced an order from the directory to set him at liberty. But notwithstanding this release, it was more than two LIFE OF J. C. LAVATEB. cxix months before he could return to Zurich, the French generals refusing to grant him a pass. He applied to General Massena, who though, as he says, he received him with all the politeness of a Frenchman, told Mm it was impossible for him to grant his request, unless he acted contrary to all the rules of war. At length having obtained a pass to go a short distance, he eluded the vigilance of the out-posts, and arrived safe at Zurich, which was then in the hands of the Aus- trians. He was received with the utmost attention and politeness by the Austrian officers, who had been informed by General Hotze, that his arrival might be expected, and directed to permit him to pass through the army without obstruction. Soon after his return, his royal highness the Arch- duke Charles, who had for a few hours his head- quarters al Zurich, being desirous to see so celebrated a man, sent Colonel Blonquet to him to invite him to his quarters. Some of the French, and their par- tisans, did not fail to express the meanest suspicions of the purposes of this interview ; but a moment's consideration might have convinced them, that as Mr. Lavater had not the least knowledge of the posi- tion or designs of the French army, or its generals, he could not, were he so disposed, betray them to the Archduke. On the 26th of September, 1799, Zurich was taken a second time by the French. The Austrians fought with great obstinacy during the whole of the 25th, and the morning of the 26th, but about noon they CXX MEMOIRS OF THE were obliged to retire, and the French entered the city, which had the good fortune to be neither set on fire or plundered by either the retreating or victorious army. But not only Zurich, but the whole country, and the cause of religion, justice, and virtue, sustained a very real misfortune in the accident which happened to Lavater, who, on this day, received the wound, which at length occasioned his death. The following is an abstract of the circumstances attending this unfor- tunate event, as related by Lavater himself, in a written account, dated Sunday, Sept. 29, 1799. After the French had entered Zurich as conquerors, many of the soldiers rambled in small parties, or singly, about the town. Two of these came to the door of a house, in which only two females resided, in the open place, near the church of St. Peter, con- tiguous to the residence of Lavater, and began to cry " Wine ! wine ! this is a public house !" — at the same time beating the door with the but-ends of their mus kets, to burst it open. Lavater looked out of his window, and said to them : " Be quiet, and I will bring you wine." He accordingly carried them some, with some bread, and even offered them money, which, however, they would not accept. Being thus pacified, they went away, thanking him for his generosity. One of them especially, a grenadier, expressed his grati- tude, and the friendship he had conceived for him, in the warmest terms. Lavater then returned into his house, where hij wife accosted him with — " What, has my Daniel come safe out of the lion's den !" -He then LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. CXXl sent a person to see whether the streets were suffici- ently clear for him to go to the house of one of his children, to inquire after the safety of the family, which he had been prevented from doing by the num- ber of troops passing through the city. — While he stood at his door, waiting the return of his messenger, a little meagre French soldier came up to him, and told him in broken German, that he had been taken prisoner by the Russians, and that he had no shirt. Lavater answered, that he had no shirt to give him, but at the same time took out of his pocket some small money, which he offered him. The fellow looked at it contemptuously, and said, " I must have a whole dollar for a shirt." Lavater then offered him a few more small pieces, but he still insisted that he must have a dollar, and drew his sabre to enforce his de- mand. The other soldiers, to whom Lavatei had given wine, and who had parted from him in so friendly a manner, were standing at a little distance, and he called to them for protection against the violence of this man. They came to him, but, to his great sur- prise, the very man who two minutes before had refused money when he had offered it to him, now joined in the demand of his comrade, and putting his bayonet to his breast, cried out more fiercely than the other — "Give us money." Lavater, and some person who stood near him, put aside the bayonet, and another person, at that time a stranger to him, threw his arm round him, and drew him back. At the same moment the grenadier fired, and the ball passed through the CXXll MEMOIRS OF THE arm of the stranger, and wounded Lavater below the breast. He bled profusely, and when his wound was examined, it was found that the ball had entered on the right side, and passed out at the distance of about four inches on the left, a little above the ribs, having approached extremely near to parts, which, had it pierced, it must have proved instantly fatal. By the care and judicious treatment of the surgeons who attended him, his wound soon exhibited very favourable symptoms, and appeared to be in a satis- factory progress of cure. In a few days he was able to sit up in his bed and write ; for his active and in^ defatigable mind could never desist from its labours, while it was possible to prosecute them. In this manner he composed, while confined to his bed, several exhortations addressed to his church, which were read to the congregation from the pulpit by his assistant colleague. He also wrote, while thus confined, and frequently suflTering severe pain, his patriotic letters on the practice of deportation, which he dedicated to the members of the executive council, as likewise a very spirited remonstrance to the Hel- vetic directory. About the middle of December, his wound appeared to be healed ; he left his room and his chamber, and again returned to his pulpit, from which he had been detained nearly three months. He continued to preach till about the end of January, 1800, when his pains re- turned more severely than before. His surgeons and physicians were by no means wanting in their care and LIFE OF J. C. LAVATEK. CXXlll attention; but they were unable to discover witli cer- tainty the cause of this relapse, and his pains con- tinued to increase. In the mean time, he laboured as assiduously as the state of his health would permit him in writing a second volume, of his letters, on the subject of deportation. He also published a book of prayers, to which he prefixed an essay on tlie nature and duty of prayer. In the beginning of May, he was advised to try the baths of Baden and Schinznach, and he, in conse- quence, went thither, but returned to Zurich in about a month, without having experienced any great relief from the use of them. During his stay at Baden, he applied himself to the completion of his Physiogno- monical Cabinet i that is, he wrote judgments on several figures and portraits which he had collected. He also, while at Baden and Schinznach, wrote a little work, entitled, " Private Le tters of Saul an d Pauj , edited by NathaTion asacra rupe," the latter words Dcing an anagram of the name Lavater. The manner of publication imported, that these were genuine letters of St. Paul, written before and after liis con- version, to some friends in Damascus; but whoever was acquainted with the style of Lavater must soon perceive that he was the author. On his return from Baden, about the middle of June, as it was judged less suitable for him to reside in the city, the handsome villa of General Salis, at Erlenbach, on the lake of Zurich, about a league and a half from the town, being then unoccupied, was CXxiv MEMOIRS OF THE offered him for his residence, and he gratefully ac- cepted the offer. He was delighted with the natural beauties of the place ; and styles it in some of the letters he wrote at that time, the " Paradise Erlen- bach." Yet, here, he still continued to write and dictate with incessant industry, and here he began a work, which he called his " Swan's Song, or the La st Thoughts of a Departing CEnsHS TonJesus of Naz a- feth." ""On This work he*was occasionally employed, TuTwithin about a month of his death, until he was unable either to guide the pen himself, or dictate to another. In the beginning of September, a prayer-day being observed in his church at Zurich, as was an annual custom, he caused himself to be carried thither, though very feeble and in great pain of body, and after the sermon, before the sacrament was admi- nistered, addressed his congregation in a pious and pathetic exhortation, which was the last he delivered to them, and to which they listened with most pro- found attention, and indescribable emotion. From this time he continued gradually to become more feeble, and to be attacked with longer and more severe fits of pain, which were sometimes so violent that he could not forbear uttering loud cries, often for several minutes, or even a quarter of an hour at a time. Yet, in the midst of his agonies, his cries and groans were accompanied with prayers for the man by whom he had been wounded, that he might never suff"er the pains he had caused him to endure. In the intervals LIFE OF J._ C. LAVATER. CXXV between these fits, he still continued, with the most indefatigable assiduity, his labours for the good of others, and was incessantly employed in writing or dictating. When waked in the night by his pains, or when from any other cause he could not sleep, he would desire the person who sat up with him, to read to him the New Testament, or to write such thoughts as occurred to him, that not a moment might be lost. Among the last of his labours, two letters which he wrote to Count Stolberg, with whom he had long maintained a friendly correspondence, and who, about that time, had publicly professed himself a convert to the Catholic religion, deserve particular notice, on account of the liberal charity which he manifests on the one hand, and the firmness with which he de- clares on the other, that he himself can never believe that church infallible, or call her a merciful mother, which can condemn to the flames her erring children. Yet some of his Catholic friends still entertained hopes that he would, at the last, consent to be received into the bosom of their church, from which they con- ceived him, on account of some of his peculiar opi- nions, to be not very far removed, and made some earnest but fruitless attempts to persuade him to com- ply with their wishes. About a fortnight before his death, he finished his last literary production, which was a poem, written with great spirit, entitled, " Zurich, at the beginning of the Nineteenth Century." OnTEeTast of December, in the evening, he was so exhausted, and his voice had CXXVl SIEMOIRS OF THE become so feeble, that what he said coula only be heard by applying the ear to his lips; yet even in this condition he expressed a wish to dictate some lines, which his colleague might read to his congrega- tion on the morning of the new year's day. In com- pliance with his request, his son-in-law, M. Gessner, listened and took them from his lips, and his daugh- ter Louisa, wrote them down. They consisted of seven lines (German Hexameters) suitable to the occasion, and breathing that spirit of piety which had animated him through life. On the next day, in the evening, he appeared much more composed, was freer from pain, and slept soundly ; but it was soon evident that this alteration was only introductory to the great crisis of nature, and on the ensuing day, Friday, January 2, 1801, about three o'clock in the afternoon, he expired. Of the character of this extraordinary man, different persons may perhaps judge differently; but it is scarcely possible that any should refuse him the praise of genius, indefatigable industry, integrity, and ge- nuine piety. — " Lavater," says Professor Meiners, in his letter on Switzerland, " is one of the few men, whom I have been acquainted with, who is little soli- citous to conceal his faults, and still less anxious to make his merits known. With regard to his moral charadter, it is impossible to speak too highly of it ; his very opponents, those at least with whom I am ac- quainted, allow that his life and manners are blameless. A wann desire to advance the honour of God, and tJie LIFE OF J. C. LAVATER. CXXvii good of his fellow-creatures, is without doubt the prin- cipal feature in his character, and the leading motive of all he does. — Next to this, his characteristic virtues are an exemplary mildness and placability, and an inexhaustible love for his enemies. — I have often heard him speak of the talents, merits, and good qualities of his opponents, with the same warmth as if he had been talking of the virtues of his greatest friends; of his own merits he speaks with the greatest and most unaffected modesty. Every thing in him announces the man of genius. He speaks quickly, and appears greatly in- terested in all he says ; but is never heated, nor does his action transgress the bounds of moderation. He bears contradiction with great patience, and calmly answers any objections which are made to what he ad- vances. Though his learning is not very profound, his conversation is rendered extremely interesting, by his great natural powers, and that extensive know- ledge of human nature, which he has acquired by his early and constantly increasing connexion with men of all ranks and orders. When we consider the variety of business in which he is almost constantly immersed, it cannot but appear extremely surprising how he can find so much time to Avrite, and we shall be readily disposed to admit, what he asserts is the case, that his writing is only a relaxation from his other em- ployments." Lavater may, no doubt, be charged in some in- stances with credulity, and with too readily yielding to the natural ardour of his imagination, which occasion- CXXVIU LIFF OF J. C. LAVATER. ally hurried him into what men of cooler dispositions will call enthusiasm ; but few who read his writings, and hone who were intimately acquainted with him, will hesitate to acknowledge that these very venial failings were much more than counterbalanced by nu- merous great and valuable aualitieSi both of the mind and of the heart. ESSAYS PHYSIOGNOMY. INTRODUCTION. A ND God said " Let us make man in our image, after our likeness."' " How wondrous the suspense of expecting creation ! " The regions of earth, air, and water, swarm with living beings. All is plenitude : all is animation : all is motion. — What is the great purpose that this multitude of creatures contribute to effect ? — Where is the unity of this grand whole ? — Each being still remains solitary. The pleasures of each terminate in self. Where is that something capable of con- ceiving, where that comprehensive eye that can include, that capacious heart that can rejoice in, this grand whole? — ■ Creation wanting a purpose appears to mourn ; to enjoy, but not to be enjoyed — A desert in all its wild confusion. — ^The pulse of nature beats not ! " Were it possible to produce a being which should be the head, the summit, and unity of all ! — Were this possible ; such a being must be the symbol of the Deity ; the visible image of God. Himself a subordinate deity ; a ruler, and a lord — How noble a creature ! " The Godhead holds council ! — " Hitherto the powers of recent creation slumber — such a form, such a symbol of Deity, must be infinitely more beautiful, must contain infinitely more life, than the rivers, woods, and B 2 INTRODUCTION. mountains, or than paradise itself.— Yes, inevitably must, es- sentially, exceed all other forms animate and inanimate. — To him must thought be imparted, that generative, that predo- minant gift of the Divinity.— How graceful his body ! How dignified his action ! How sublime the glance of his eye ! How insignificant are all the objects of nature compared to the human soul ! — How vast its reasoning, its mventive,_ and its ruling faculties ! — Yes, it is the visible image of the Deity ! " The Godhead has taken counsel ! — " God cbeatbd man in his own image ; in the image of God cheated he him. Male and female created he them." " How might man be more honoured than by such a pause ? How more deified than by the counsel of the Godhead, than by thus being impressed with the divine image ! " God created man in his own image, in the image op god created he him." " How exaltedly, how exclusively honourable to man ! " Contemplate his exterior ; erect, towering and beauteous — This, though but the shell, is the image of his mind ; the veil and agent of that divinity of which he is the repre- sentative. How does the present though concealed Deity speak, in his human countenance, with a thousand tongues ! How does he reveal himself by an eternal variety of im- pulse, emotion, and action, as in a magical mirror ! Is there not something inconceivably celestial in the eye of man, in the combination of his features, in his elevated mien I Thus is that effusion of radiance which the sun emits, and which no eye might endure, obscured by dewy vapours, and thus the Godhead darkly portrays itself in a rude earthly form. " God of perfection ! How supremely, how benevolently hast thou displayed thyself in man! — Behold the human body ! that fair investiture of all that is most beauteous ! — Unity in variety ! Variety in unity ! How are they there displayed in their very essence ! — What elegance, what pro- priety, what symmetry through all the forms, all the mem- bers! How imperceptible, how infinite, are the gradations that constitute this beauteous whole ! " Survey this soul-beaming, this divine countenance ; the INTRODUCTIO^. 3 thoughtful brow, the penetrating eye, the spirit-breathing h"ps, the deep intelligence of the assembled features ! How they all conspiring speak ! What harmony ! — A single ray including all possible colours ! The picture of the fair im- measurable mind within ! " God ckbatkd man in his own image ; in the image op God created he him. Male and female created he them." " And there he stands in all his divinity ! The likeness of God ! The type of God and nature ! The compendium of all action ; of the power and energy of the Creator ! Study him. Sketch his figure, though it be but as the sun painted in a dew-drop — All your heroes and deities, whatever their origin, form, or symbolic qualities (disjecti membra poetce), the most perfect ideal angel that Plato or Winkelmann ever could ima- gine, or that the waving lines of Apelles or Raphael could portray : the Venus Anadyomene, and Apollo, to him are far unequal. These to him compared are disproportionate as shadows lengthened by the setting sun. In vain would artists and poets, like the industrious bee, collect the visible riches, products, and powers of luxuriant nature. Man, the image of God, the essence of creation, exuberant in the principles of motion and intelligence, and formed according to the council of the Godhead, ever must remain the standard of ideal per- fection. " Man — sacred yet polluted image of the Most High, enfeebled and depraved epitome of the creation ; the temple in which, and to which, the GorJhead deigned to reveal himself, first personally, afterwards by his miracles and prophets, and lastly by his beloved son — " The brightness of the glory of God : the only and first-bom ; through whom and by whom the world was created — the second Adam ! — Oh man ! what wert thou intended to be ! What art thou become !"* Were the sublime truths contained in this passage ever present to my mind, ever living in my memory, what miglit not be expected from the book I should write ? And the moment I forget them, how insupportable shall 1 become to * Herders AUente Urkunde des Menschen GescMechts J. Thdl. 4 A WORD CONCERNISG THE AUTHOR. thee— to. thee alone for whom I write, believer in the dignity of humanity, and in the resemblance of the human to the divine nature ! A WORD CONCERNING THE AUTHOR. It is highly incumbent on me that I should not lead my reader to expect more from me than I am able to perform. Whoever publishes a considerable work on physiognomy, gives his readers apparently to understand he is much better ac- quainted with the subject than any of his contemporaries. Should an error escape him, he exposes himself to the severest ridicule ; he is contemned, at least by those who do not read him, for pretensions which, probably, they suppose him to make, but which, in reality, he does not make. The God of truth, and all who know me, will bear testimony that, from my whole soul, I despise deceit, as I do all silly claims to superior wisdom, and infallibility, which so many writers, by a thoqsand artifices, endeavour to make their rea- ders imagine they possess. First, therefore, I declare, what I have uniformly declared on all occasions, although the persons who speak of me and my works endeavour to conceal it from themselves and others ; " That I understand but little of physiognomy, that I have been, and continue daily to be, mistaken in my judgment ; but that these errors are the natural, and most certain, means of correcting, confirming, and extending my knowledge." It will probably not be disagreeable to many of my readers, to be informed, in part, of the progress of my mind in this study. Before the age of five and twenty, there was nothing I should have supposed more improbable than that I should make the smallest inquiries concerning, much less that I Ehould write a book on, physiognomy. I was neither inclined to read nor make the slightest observations on the subject. The extreme sensibility of my nerves occasioned me, however, to feel certain emotions at beholding certain countenances, which emotions remained when they were no longer present, A WORD CONCERNING THE AUTHOR. h without my being able to account for them, and even without my thinking any thing more of such countenances. I, some- times, instinctively formed a judgment, according to these first impressions, and was laughed at, ashamed, and became cautious. Years passed away before I again dared, impelled by similar impressions, to venture similar opinions. In the mean time, I occasionally sketched the countenance of a friend, whom by chance I had lately been observing. I had from my earliest youth a strong propensity to drawing, and especially to drawing of portraits, although I had but little genius and perseverance. By this practice, my latent feelings began partly to unfold themselves. The various proportions, features, si- militudes, and varieties, of the human countenance, became more apparent. It has happened that, on two successive days, I have drawn two faces, the features of which had a remarkable resemblance. This awakened my attention ; and my astonishment increased when I obtained certain proofs that these persons were as similar in character as in feature. I was afterwards induced by M. Zimmermann, physician to the court of Hanover, to write my thoughts on this subject. I met with many opponents, and this opposition obliged me to make deeper and more laborious researches ; till at length the present work on physiognomy was produced. Here I must repeat the full conviction I feel that my whole life would be insufficient to form any approach towards a perfect and consistent whole. It is a field too vast for me singly to till. I shall find various opportunities of confessing my deficiency in various branches of science, without which it is impossible to study physiognomy with that firmness and certainty which are requisite. I shall conclude this fragment by declaring, with unreserved candour, and wholly committmg myself to the reader who is the friend of truth — That I have heard, from the weakest of men, remarks on the human countenance more acute than those I had made, re- marks which made mine appear trivial. That I believe, were various other persons to sketch coun- tenances, and write their observations, those I have hitherto made would soon become of little importance. 6 ON THE NATURE OF MAN. TLat I daily meet a hundred faces concerning which I am unable to pronounce any certain opinion. That no man has any thing to fear from my inspection, as it is my endeavour to find good in man, nor are there any men in whom good is not to be found. That since I have begun thus to observe mankind, my philanthropy is not diminished, but I will venture to say increased. And that now (January 1783), after ten years' daily study, I am not more convinced of the certainty of my ovra existence, than of the truth of the science of physiognomy ; or than that this truth may be demonstrated : — ^and that I hold him to be a weak and simple person who shall affirm, that the effects of the impression made upon him by all possible human coirn- tenances are equal. ON THE NATURE OF MAN, WHICH IS THE FOUNDATION OF THE SCIENCE OF PHYSIOGNOMY. Op all earthly creatures, man is the most perfect, the most imbued with the principles of life. "'Each particle of matter is an immensity ; each leaf a world; each insect an inexplicable compendium. Who then shall enumerate the gradations between insect and man ? In him all the powers of nature are united. He is the essence of creation. The son of earth, he is the earth's lord ; the sum- mary and central point of all existence, of all powers, and of all life, on that earth which he inhabits. Of all organized beings with which we are acquainted, man alone excepted, there are none in which are so wonderfully united the three different kinds of life, the animal, the intel- lectual, and the moral. Each of these lives is the compen- dium of various faculties, most wonderfully compounded and harmonized. To know — ^to desire — ^to act — or accurately to observe and meditate — to perceive and to wish — to possess the powers ol O.V THE NATUKE OF MAN. 7 motion and resistance — these combined constitute man an ani- mal, intellectual, and moral being. Man endowed with these faculties, with this triple life, is in himself the most worthy subject of observation, as he likewise is himself the most worthy observer. Under whatever point of view he may be considered, what is more worthy of contem- plation than himself? In him each species of life is conspicu- ous ; yet never can his properties be wholly luiown, excegtby the aid of^ his external Jorm, his body, his superficies. How spiritual, how incorporeal soever, his internal essence may be, stiU is he only visible and conceivable from the harmony of his constituent parts. From these he is inseparable. He exists and moves in the body he inhabits, as in his element. This material man must become the subject of observation. All the knowledge we can obtain of man must be gained through the medium of our senses. This threefold life, which man cannot be denied to possess, necessarily first becomes the subject of disquisition and re^ search, as it presents itself in the form of body, and in such of his faculties as are apparent to sense. There is no object in nature the properties and powers of which can be manifest to us in any other manner than by such external appearances as affect the senses. By these all beings are characterized. They are the foundations of all human knowledge. Man must wander in the darkest ignorance, equally with respect to himself and the objects that surround him, did he not become acquainted with their properties and powers by the aid of their externals ; and had not each object a character peculiar to its nature and essence, which acquaints us with what it is, and enables us to distinguish it from what it is not. All bodies which we survey appear to sight under a certain form and superficies. We behold those outlines traced which are the result of their organization. I hope I shall be pardoned the repetition of such common-place truths, since on these are built the science of physiognomy, or the proper study of man. However true these axioms, with respect to visible objects, and particularly to organized bodies, they are still more exten- 8 ON THE NATURE OF MAN. sively true when applied to man and his nature. The orga- nization of man peculiarly distinguishes him from all other earthly heings , and his physiognomy, that is to say, the super- ficies and outHnes of this organization, shew him to be infi- nitely superior to all those visible beings by which he is sur- rounded. We are unacquainted with any form equally noble, equally majestic, with that of man, and in which so many kinds of hfe, so many powers, so many virtues of action and motion, unite, as in a central point. With firm step he advances over the earth's surface, and with erect body raises his head towards heaven. He looks forward to infinitude ; he acts with faci- lity, and swiftness inconceivable, and his motions are the most immediate and the most varied. By whom may their varieties be enumerated? He can at once both suffer and perform infinitely more than any other creature. He unites flexibility and fortitude, strength and dexterity, activity and rest. Of all creatures he can the soonest yield, and the longest resist. None resemble him in the variety and har- mony of his powers. His faculties, like his form, are pecuUar to himself. How much nobler, more astonishing, and more attractive will this form become, when we discover that it is itself the interpreter of all the high powers it possesses, active and passive ! Only in those parts in which animal strength and properties reside does it resemble animals. But how much is it exalted above the brute in those parts in which are the powers of superior origin, the powers of mind, of motion ! The form and proportion of man, his superior height, capable of so many changes, and such variety of motion, prove to the unprejudiced observer his super-eminent strength, and astonishing facility of action. The high excellence, and phy- siological unity, of human nature are visible at the first glance. The head, especially the face, and the formation of the firm parts, compared to the firm parts of other animals, convince the accurate observer, who is capable of investigating truth, ■of the greatness and superiority of his intellectual qualities. l"he eye, the look, the cheeks, the mouth, the forehead, ON THE NATURE OF MAN. 9 whether considered in a state of entire rest or during their innumerable varieties of motion, in fine, whatever is under- stood by physiognomy, are the most expressive, the most convincing picture of interior sensation, desires, passions, will, and of all those properties which so much exalt moral above animal life. Although the physiological, intellectual, and moral life of man, with all their subordinate powers, and their constituent parts, so eminently unite in one being ; although these three kinds of life do not, like three distinct families, reside in separate parts, or stories of the body ; but coexist in one point, and by their combination form one whole ; yet is it plain that each of these powers of life has its peculiar station, where it more especially unfolds itself, and acts. It is beyond contradiction evident that, though physiolo- gical or animal life displays itself through all the body, and especially through all the animal parts, yet does it act most conspicuously in the arm, from the shoulder to the ends of the fingers. It is equally clear that intellectual life, or the powers of the understanding and the mind, make themselves most appa- rent in the circumference and form of the solid parts of the head; especially the forehead, though they will discover ' themselves to an attentive and accurate eye, in every part and point of the human body, by the congeniality and harmony of the various parts, as will be frequently noticed in the course of this work. Is there any occasion to prove that the power of thinking resides neither in the foot, in the hand, nor in the back ; but in the head, and its internal parts ? The moral life of man, particularly, reveals itself in the lines, marks, and transitions of the countenance. His moral powers and desires, his irritability, sympathy, and antipathy ; his facility of attracting or repelling the objects that surround him; these are all summed up in, and painted upon, his countenance when at rest. When any passion is called into action, such passion is depicted by the motion of the muscles, and these motions are accompanied by a strong palpitation of 10 ON THE NATURE OF MAN. the heart. If the countenance be tranquil, it always denotes tranquillity in the region of the heart and breast. This threefold life of man, so intimately interwoven through his frame, is still capable of being studied in its different appropriate parts ; and did we live in a less depraved world we should find sufiicient data for the science of physiognomy. The animal life, the lowest and most earthly, would discover itself from the rim of the belly to the organs of generation, which would become its central or focal point. The middle' or moral life would be seated in the breast, and the heart would be its central point. The intellectual life, which of the three is supreme, would reside in the head, and have the eye (for its centre. If we take the countenance as the repre- sentative and epitome of the three divisions, then will the I forehead, to the eye-brows, be the mirror, or image, of the understanding; the nose and cheeks the image of the moral and sensitive life ; and the mouth and chin the image of the animal life ; while the eye will be to the whole as its summary and centre. I may also add that the closed mouth at the moment of most perfect tranquillity is the central point of the radii of the countenance. It cannot, however, too often be repeated that these three lives, by their intimate connexion with each other, are all, and each, expressed in every part of the body. What we have hitherto said is so clear, so well known, so universal, that we should blush to insist upon such common- place truths, were they not, first, the foundation on which we must build all we have to propose ; and, again, had not these truths (can it be believed by futurity 2) in this our age been so many thousand times mistaken and contested, with the most inconceivable affectation. The science of physiognomy, whether understood in the most enlarged or most confined sense, indubitably depends on these general and incontrovertible principles ; yet, incontrover- tible as they are, they have not been without their opponents. Men pretend to doubt of the most striking, the most con- vincing, the most self-evident truths; although were these PHYSIOGNOMY, PATHOGNOMY. 11 destroyed, neither truth nor knowledge would remain. They do not profess to douht concerning the physiognomy of other natural objects, yet do they doubt the physiognomy of human nature ; the first object, the most worthy of contemplation, and the most animated the realms of nature contain. We have already informed our readers they are to expect only fragments on physiognomy from us, and not a perfect system. However, what has been said may serve as a sketch for such a system. To acquire this perfection, it is necessary separately to consider the physiological part, or the exterior characters of the physical and animal powers of man ; the intellectual part, or the expression of the powers of the under- standing ; and the moral part, or the expression of the feeling and sensitive powers of man, and his irritability. Each of these subdivides itself into two general heads ; physiognomy, properly so called, which is the observation of character in a state of tranquillity, or rest, and pathognomy, which is the study of character in action Before we proceed to exemplify either of these general heads, it will not be unnecessary to insert some introductory fragments, once more avowing that we have neither the ability nor the intention to write a complete system. PHYSIOGNOMY, PATHOGNOMY. Taking it in its most extensive sense, I use the word phy- siognomy to signify the exterior, or superficies of man, in motion or at rest, whether viewed in the original or by portrait. Physiognomony, or, as more shortly vwitten Physiognomy,* is the science or knowledge of the correspondence between the external and internal man, the visible superficies and the invisible contents. * The Author has made a distinction between Phjsiognomih, and Phy- siognomie, which neither accords with the English Language nor is necessary ; since, by Physiognomie, he means only the countenance ; and uses Physiognomik in the same sense as we do Physiognomy, to signify the science. T. 12 PHYSIOGNOMY, PATHOGNOMY. Physiognomy may be divided into the various parts, or views under which man may be considered ; that is to say, into the animal, the moral, and the intellectual. Whoever forms a right judgment of the character of man, from those first impressions which are made by his exterior, is naturally a physiognomist. The scientific physiognomist is he who can arrange, and accurately define, the exterior traits ; and the philosophic physiognomist is he who is capable of developing the principles of these exterior traits and tokens, which are the internal causes of external effects. Physiognomy is properly distinguished from pathognomy. Physiognomy, opposed to pathognomy, is the knowledge of the signs of the powers and inclinations of men. Pathognomy is the knowledge of the signs of the passions. Physiognomy, therefore, teaches the knowledge of character at rest ; and pathognomy of character in motion. Character at rest is displayed by the form of the solid and the appearance of the moveable parts, while at rest. Character impassioned is manifested by the moveable parts, in motion. Physiognomy may be compared to the sum total of the mind ; pathognomy to the interest which is the product of this sum total. The former shows what man is in general; the latter what he becomes at particular moments : or, the one what he might be, the other what he is. The first is the root and stem of the second, the soil in which it is planted. Who- ever believes the latter and not the former, believes in fruit without a tree, in corn without land. All people read the countenance pathognomonically ; few indeed read it physiognomonically. Pathognomy has to combat the arts of dissimulation ; phy- siognomy has not. These two sciences are to the friend of truth inseparable ; but as physiognomy is much less studied than pathognomy, I shall chiefly confine myself to the former. 13 OF THE TRUTH OF PHYSIOGNOMY. All countenances, all forms, all created beings, are not only different from each other in their classes, races, and kinds, but are also individually distinct. Each being differs from every other being of its species. However generally known, it is a truth the most important to our purpose, and necessary to repeat, that, " There is no rose perfectly similar to another rose, no egg to an egg, no eel to an eel, no lion to a lion, no eagle to an eagle, no man to a man." Confining this proposition to man only, it is the first, t^e^ most profound, most secure, and unshaken foundation-stone of physiognomy that, however intimate the analogy and similarity of the innumerable forms of men, no two men can be found vho, brought together, and accurately compared, will not appear to be very remarkably different. Nor is it less incontrovertible that it is equally impossible to find two minds, as two countenances, which perfectly resemble each other. ^_^ This consideration alone will be sufficient to make it re- ' ceived as a truth, not requiring further demonstration, that there must be a certain native analogy between the external varieties of the countenance and form, and the internal varie- ties of the mind. Shall it be denied that this acknowledged internal variety among all men is not the cause of the external variety of their forms and countenances ? Shall it be affirmed that the mind does not influence the body, or that the body does not influence the mind ? Anger renders the muscles protuberant; and shall not therefore an angry mind and protuberant muscles be con- sidered as cause and effect ? After repeated observation that an active and vivid eye and an active and acute wit are frequently found in the same person, shall it be supposed that there is no relation between the active eye and the active mind 1 Is this the effect of accident?— Of accident!— Ought it not rather to be con- 14 OF THE TRUTH sidered as sympathy, an interchangeable and instantaneous effect, when we perceive that, at the very moment the under- standing is most acute and penetrating, and the wit the most lively, the motion and fire of the eye undergo, at that mo- ment, the most visible change ! Shall the open, friendly, and unsuspecting eye, and the open, friendly, and unsuspecting heart, be united in a thou- sand instances, and shall we say the one is not the cause, the other the effect ? Shall nature discover wisdom and order in all things ; shall corresponding causes and effects be every where united ; shall this be the most clear the most indubitable truths ; and in the first the most noble of the works of nature shall she act arbi- trai'ily, without design, without law ? The human countenance, that mirror of the Divinity, that noblest of the works of the Creator — shall not motive and action, shall not the corre- spondence between the interior and the exterior, the visible and the invisible, the cause and the effect, be there apjiarent I Yet this is all denied by those who oppose the truth of the science of physiognomy. Truth, according to them, is ever at variance with itself. Eternal order is degraded to a juggler, whose purpose it is to deceive. Calm reason revolts at the supposition that Newton or Leibnitz ever could have the countenance and appearance of an idiot, incapable of a firm step, a meditating eye ; of com- prehending the least difficult of abstract propositions, and of expressing himself so as to be understood ; that one of these in the brain of a Laplander conceived his Theodicea ; and that the other in the head of an Esquimaux, who wants the power to number further than six, and affirms all beyond to be innu- merable, had dissected the rays of light, and weighed worlds. Calm reason revolts when it is asserted the strong man may appear perfectly like the weak, the man in full health like another in the last stage of a consumption, or that the rash and irascible may resemble the cold and phlegmatic. It re- volts to hear it affirmed that joy and grief, pleasure and pain, love and hatred, all exhibit themselves under the same traits, OF PHYSIOGNOMY, 15 that is to say, under no traits whatever, on the exterior of man. Yet such are the assertions of those who maintain physiognomy is a chimerical science. They overturn all that order and combination by which eternal wisdom so highly astonishes and delights the understanding. It cannot be too emphatically repeated, that blind chance and arbitrary, dis- order constitute the philosophy of fools ; and that they are the bane of natural knowledge, philosophy and religion. En- tirely to banish such a system is the duty of the true inquirer, the sage and the divine. All men (this is indisputable), absolutely all men, estimate all things, whatever, by their physiognomy, their exterior tem- porary superficies. By viewing these on every occasion, they draw their conclusions concerning their internal properties. What merchant, if he be unacquainted with the person of whom he purchases, does not estimate his wares by the phy- siognomy or appearance of those wares ? If he purchase of a distant correspondent, what other means does he use in judg- ing whether they are or are not equal to his expectation ? Is not his judgment determined by the colour, the fineness, the superficies, the exterior, the physiognomy ? Does he not judge money by its physiognomy ! Why does he take one guinea and reject another ? Why weigh a third in his hand ? Does he not determine according to its colour, or impression ; its outside, its physiognomy ? If a stranger enter his shop, as a buyer, or seller, will he not observe him ? Will he not draw conclusions from his countenance ? Will he not, almost before he is out of hearing, pronounce some opinion upon him, and say, " This man has an honest look — This man has a pleasing, or forbidding, countenance 2" — What is it to the purpose whether his judgment be right or wrong ? He judges. Though not wholly, he depends, in part, upon the exterior form, and thence draws inferences concerning the mind. How does the farmer, walking through his grounds, regulate his future expectations, by the colour, the size, the growth, the exterior, that is to say, by the physiognomy of the bloom, the stalk, or the ear, of his corn ; the 'stem, and shoots of his vine-tree? — " This ear of corn is blighted — That wood is full 16 OF THE TRUTH of sap ; this will grow, that not," affirms he, at the first, or second glance — " Though these vine-shoots look well, they will hear but few grapes." And wherefore ! He remarks, in their appearance, as the physiognomist in the countenances of shallow men, the want of native energy. Does not he judge by the exterior ? Does not the physician pay more attention to the physiog- nomy of the sick than to all the accounts that are brought him concerning his patient ? Zimmermann, among the living, may be brought as a proof of the great perfection at which this kind of judgment is arrived ; and among the dead Kempf, whose son has written a treatise on Temperament. The painter — yet of him I will say nothing: his art too evidently reproves the childish and arrogant prejudices of those who pretend to disbelieve physiognomy. The traveller, the philanthropist, the misanthrope, the lover (and who not ?) all act according to their feehngs and decisions, true or false, confused or clear, concerning physiognomy. These feelings, these decisions, excite compassion, disgust, joy, love, hatred, suspicion, confidence, reserve, or benevolence. -—^Q we not daily judge of the sky by its physiognomy! No food, not a glass of wine, or beer, not a cup of coffee, or tea, comes to table, which is not judged by its physiognomy, its ex- terior ; and of which we do not thence deduce some conclusion respecting its interior, good, or bad, properties. Is not all nature physiognomy; superficies, and contents; body, and spirit ; exterior effect, and internal power ; invisible beginning, and visible ending? What knowledge is there, of which man is capable, that is not founded on the exterior ; the relation that exists between visible and invisible, the perceptible and the imperceptible. Physiognomy, whether understood in its most extensive or confined signification, is the origin of all human decisions, efforts, actions, expectations, fears, and hopes : of all pleasing and un- pleasing sensations, which are occasioned by external objects. From the cradle to the grave, in all conditions and ages, throughout all nations, from Adam to the last existing man, from the worm we tread on to the most sublime of philoso- OF PhYSIOGNOMY. 17 phers, (and why not to the angel, why not to the Mediator Christ ?) physiognomy is the origin of all we do and suffer. Each insect is acquainted with its friend and its foe ; each child loves and fears although it knows not why. Physiognomy IS the cause ; nor is there a man to be found on earth who is not daily influenced by physiognomy ; not a man who cannot figure to himself a countenance which shall to him appear exceed- ingly lovely, or exceedingly hateful; not a man who does not more or less, the first time he is in company with a stranger, ob- serve, estimate, compare, and judge him, according to appear- ances, although he might never have heard of the word or thing called physiognomy ; not a man who does not judge of all things that pass through his hands, by their physiognomy ; that is, of their internal worth by their external appearance. The art of dissimulation itself, which is adduced as so insu- perable an objection to the truth of physiognomy, is founded upon physiognomy. Why does the hypocrite assume the ap- pearance of an honest man, but because that he is convinced, though not perhaps from any systematic reflection, that all eyes are acquainted with the characteristic marks of honesty. What judge, wise or unwise, whether he confess or deny the fact, does not sometimes in this sense decide from appear- ances I Who can, is, or ought to be, absolutely indififerent to the exterior of persons brought before him to be judged ?* What king would choose a minister without examining his exterior, secretly, at least, and to a certain extent ? An ofiicer will not enlist a soldier without thus examining his appearance, his height out of the question. What master or mistress of a family will choose a servant without considering the exterior ; no matter that their judgment may or may not be just, or that it may be exercised unconsciously ? I am wearied of citing instances so numerous, and so con- tinually before our eyes, to prove that men, tacitly and unani- mously, confess the influence which physiognomy has over * Franciscus Valesius says Sed legibus etiam civilibus, in quibus iniquum sit censere esse aliquid futile aut varium, cautum est ; ut si duo homines inciderent in criminis suspicionem, is primum torqueatur qui it aspectu deformior. 18 OF THE THVTn their sensations and actions. I feel disgust at being obliged to write thus, in order to convince, the learned of truths with which every child is, or may be, acquainted. He that hath eyes to see let him see : but should the hght, by being brought too close to his eyes, produce phrenzy, he may burn himself by endeavouring to extinguish tha torch of truth. I use such expressions unwillingly, but I dare do my duty, and my duty is boldly to declare that I believe myself csrtain of what I now and hereafter shall affirm ; and that I think myself capable of convincing all real lovers of truth, by principles which are in themselves incontrovertible. It is also necessary to confute the pretensions of certain literary despots, and to compel them to be more cautious in their decisions. It is therefore proved, not because I say it, but because it is an eternal and manifest truth, and would have been equally truth, had it never been said, that, whether they are or are not sensible of it, all men are daily influenced by physiognomy; that, as Sultzerhas affirmed, every man, consciously or unconsciously, understands something of physiognomy; nay, that there is not a living being which does not, at least after its manner, draw some inferences from the external to the internal; which does not judge concern-, ing that which is not, by that which is, apparent to the senses. This universal though tacit confession, that the exterior, the visible, the superficies of objects, indicate their nature, their properties, and that every outward sign is the symbol of some inherent quality, I hold to be equally certain and impor- tant to the science of physiognomy. I must once more repeat, when each apple, each apricot, has a physiognomy peculiar to itself, shall man, the lord of earth, have none ? The most simple and inanimate object has its characteristic exterior, by which it is not only distinguished as a species, but individually ; and shall the first, noblest, best harmonized, and most beauteous of beings be denied all cha- racteristic 1 But, whatever may be objected against the truth and cer- tainty of the science of physiognomy, by the most illfterate, or the most learned ; how much soever he who openly professRS faith in this science may be subject to ridicule, to philosophic OF PHYSTOGNOMY. If) pit} and contempt ; it still cannot be contested that there is no object, thus considered, more important, more worthy of observation, more interesting than man, nor any occupation superior to that of disclosing the beauties and perfections "of human nature. Such were my opinions six or eight years ago. Will it in the next century he believed that it is still, at this time, necessary to repeat these things; or that numerous obscure witlings continue to treat with ridicvde and contempt the general feelings of mankind, and observations which not only may be, but are demonstrated ; and that they act thus without having refuted any one of the principles at which they laugh ; yet that they are notvdthstanding continually repeating the words, philosophy and enlightened age ? January Wtli, 1783. REASONS WHY THE SCIENCE OF PHYSIOGNOMY IS SO OFTEN RIDICULED AND TREATED WITH CONTEMPT. Before I proceed further, to prove that physiognomy is a real science founded in nature ; before I speak of its advan- tages, I think it necessary to notice certain reasons why there are so many prejudices entertained against physiognomy, especially moral and intellectual ; why it is so zealously opposed, and so loudly ridiculed. Proofs to demonstrate that this is the practice are unneces- sary. Of a, hundred who pass their opinions on the subject, more than ninety will always openly oppose and treat it with contempt, although they secretly confide in it, at least to a certain degree. Some, indeed, are truly sincere. All the . causes of such conduct are not to be discovered : or, if they were, who would have the temerity to drag them from the dark recesses of the human heart, and expose them to the blaze of day ? It is, however, equally possible and important to discover some of the most undeniable causes why so much ridicule and zealous enmity are entertained against this science ; and why 20 REASONS WHY SCIENCE OP PHYSIOGNOMY they are so general, violent, and irreconcilable. The reality of the following reasons, if I mistake not, cannot be entirely disproved. 1. Most pitiable absurdities have been written against phy- siognomy. This sublime science has been debased with the most puerile of foUies. It has been confounded with divina- tion by the countenance, and the quackery of chiromancy. Nothing more trivial can be imagined, more insulting to com- mon sense, than what has been written on this subject, from the time of Aristotle to the present. On the contrary, who can produce any rational treatise in its support ? What man of talents, taste, or genius, has employed, in the investigation of this subject, that impartiality, those powers of mind, that attachment to truth, which it appears to merit, whether the science be true or false, since numerous authors of every nation have written for or against physiognomy ? How feeble, how timid, have been the efforts of those men of eminence who have been its defenders ! Who has sufficient boldness, fortitude, and disregard of con- sequences, to hold that thing sacred which has been exposed to the profanation of ridicule, during centuries ? Is it not the general progress of human opinions first to be too much idol- ized, and next to be treated with unlimited scorn ? Are not the reasons of such praise and blame alike unsatisfactory and ill founded ? By the absurd manner in which this science has been treated, the science has itself become absurd. What truth, which of the sublime doctrines of theology, has not been subject to similar treatment I Is there any cause, how- ever strong, which may not, by silly reasons, and silly advo- cates, at least for a time, be rendered weak? How many thousands have lost all faith in the gospel, because that the truths it contains have been defended upon the most ridiculous principles, by which truth has been painted in the falsest of colours ! 2. Others are zealous opponents of physiognomy who yet possess the most benevolent of hearts. They suppose, and not IS so OFTEN EIDICULED. 21 without reason, that with the majority of mankind it would become a subject of detriment and abuse. Thoy foresee the many absurd and injurious judgments which would be passed by the ignorant and the maheious. Slander, wanting facts, would imagine them, and appeal for proof to the countenance. Those benevolent opponents, for whose sake the science of phy- siognomy is worthy to be found true, since it would develope the hidden beauties of their minds, esteem opposition a duty ; because so many persons, whom they believe to be much better than their countenances seem to indicate, would be injured, might any dependence be placed on the science of physiog- nomy. 3. Is not weakness of understandincf, also, frequently the cause of opposition I How few have made, how few are capable of making, observation ! Even of those capable of observing, how few are there who will sufficiently depend on what they have observed, or will sufficiently connect their remarks! Among a hundred persons, can two be found who will stem the stream of prejudice \ How few have the fortitude, or ambi- tion, to encounter the difficulties of a road so little known ! All-enslaving, all-fascinating Indolence, how dost thou debilitate the mind of man ; how powerfully dost thou excite enmity irreconcilable against the most beneficial, the most beauteous, of human sciences ! 4. Some may oppose from modesty and humility. Compli- ments have been paid them, concerning the meaning or expression of their countenances, which they are unwilling to beheve, from their own secret and modest experience. They imagine themselves inferior to what they have been supposed, by the estimates of physiognomy; they therefore conclude physiognomy to be a deceitful, and ill-founded science. 5. The majority, however, (it is a mournful, but a true re- mark,) the majority are enemies of, because they dread the light of, physiognomy. I publicly declare, as is apparent from what lias been said, that all the opponents of physiognomy are not '22 PHYSIOGNOMY, "n-HY RIDICULED. bad men. I have heard it opposed by the most worthy men, and men of the greatest understanding. 1 must nevertheless, declare, that wicked men are in general its most determined foes ; and, should the worthless man be found taking a con- trary side of the question, he probably has his private reasons, which are easily to be conceived. And what is the cause of this opposition ? It is their secret belief in its truth ; it is the conviction that they do not possess that exterior, which, were they good, were their consciences calm and undisturbed, they would possess. To reject this science, as chimerical, and render it ridiculous, is their greatest, their most immediate interest. The more any witness lays to our charge, the heavier and more irrefutable his testimony is, the more insupportable will it be to us, the more shall we exert every faculty of the soul to prove him absurd, or render him ridiculous. I cannot help considering this violent opposition of the vicious to physiognomy as the most certain proof of a secret belief in the science. They are convinced of the truth of it, in others, and tremble lest others should read its truth in themselves. What renders this still more probable is, that, I certainly know the very persons who most endeavour publicly to turn it to ridicule, are most eager to listen to the decisions of physiognomy. I dare safely appeal to any one, who is or aifects to be prejudiced against physiognomy, whether it would not give him a secret pleasure that some one, to whom he is not personally laiown, but who should happen to see his por- trait, should pass judgment upon it. I may further appeal to any one who considers this science as illusory, whether that belief will deter him from reading these fragments. Though no prophet, I can foretell that you who are most inimical to physiognomy, will read, will study, will frequently assent to my remarks. I know that you will often be pleased to find observations in this work, which will accord with, and confirm those you yourselves have secretly made. Yet will you become my open antagonists. In your closets you will smile friendly applause ; and, in public, ridicule that which feeling told you V as truth. You will increase your own stock of observation, TESTIMONIES IN FAVOUR OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 23 will become more confirmed in its certainty, yet will continue your endeavours to render observation ridiculous; for it is the fashionable philosophy of the present age, " outwardly to treat that with contempt, which we inwardly are obliged to believe." TESTIMONIES IN FAVOUR OF PHYSIOGNOMY. Testimonies and authorities, in questions that relate to the imderstanding, are often paid more deference to than prin- ciples. Therefore, to support the feeble among my readers, and to furnish the strong with such arguments as are most convenient in their disputes with the feeble, I shall produce witnesses, of more or less importance, among the learned and the wise, in the company of whom I shall esteem it an honour to be despised. They will be few, and not conclusive ; but, however, may to many appear of consequence, and be unex- pected. SOLOMON. 1. A naughty person, a wicked man, walketh with a froward mouth. He winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet, he teacheth with his fingers. — He shutteth his eyes to devise froward things ; moving his lips he bringeth evil to pass. — Frov. vi. 12, 13 ; xvi. SO. The countenance of the wise sheweth wisdom, but the eyes of a fool are in the ends of the earth. — Prov. xvii. 24. Where there is a high look there is a proud heart. — Prov. xxi. 4. Though the wicked man constrain his countenance, the wise can distinctly discern his purpose.^ProjJ. xxi. 29. There is a generation, O how lofty are their eyes, and their eyelids are lifted up ! — Prov. xxx. IS.* JESUS, SON OP SIKACH. 2. The heart of man changeth his countenance, whether it be for good or evil; and a merry heart maketh a cheerful coun- * Mr. Lavater reads differently from the English Bible. T. 24 TESTIMONIES IN FAVOUR tenance. A cheerful countenance is a token of a heart that is in prosperity. — Ecclesiasticus xiii. 25, 26. A man may be known by his look, and one that hath under- standing by his countenance, when thou meetest him. — ^A man''s attire and excessive laughter and gait shew what he is. — Ec- clesiasticus xix. 29, 30. SULTZER. 3. " Though unacknowledged, it is a certain truth, that, of aU objects that charm and deUght the eye, man is the most interesting. He is the highest, the most inconceivable, of the miracles of nature. He is a. lump of clay, by her endowed with life, activity, sensation, thought, and a moral character. That we are not struck motionless at the sight of man, can only be accounted for by knowing that the continual habit of beholding things the most, wonderful soon deprives us of amaze- ment. Hence it happens that the human form and counte- nance do not attract the observation of vulgar and inattentive minds. Whoever has, in the least, risen superior to the in- fluence of habit, and is capable of paying attention to objects that are perpetually recurring ; to him will each countenance . become remarkable. However delusive the sojence of physi- ognomy, or of discovering the character of man from his form and features, may appear to most persons ; nothing is more certain than that every observing and feeling man possesses something of this science ; and reads, in part, in the faces and members of men, their present thoughts and passions. We often affirm, with the greatest certainty, that a man is sad, merry, thoughtful, uneasy, or fearful, merely from the testi- mony of his countenance, and should be exceedingly surprised to hear ourselves contradicted. It is likewise certain that we read, in the form of man, and particularly in the countenance, something of what passes in the mind. By viewing the body, we view the soul. From these principles, we may deduce that the body is the image of the soul, or that the soul itself is rendered ■s-isible." — Algemeine Theorie der schonen Kunste II. Theil Art. Portrait. OF PHYSIOGjSOMY. WOLF. 4. AVe know that nothing passes in the soul whiclvdoea^ot produce some change in the body; and parti cular^^hRt no desire, no act of willing, is exerted by the soul, withoijffi some corresponding motion, at the same time, taking plade in the body. All changes of the soul originate in the soul's essence, and all changes in the body in the body's essence : the body's essence consists in the conformation of its members ; tiiere- fore, the conformation of the body, according to its form, and the form of its constituent members, must correspond with the essence of the soul. In like manner must the varieties of the mind be displayed in the varieties of the body. Hence the body must contain something in itself, and in its form, as well as in the form of its parts, by which an opinion may be deduced concerning the native qualities of the mind. I repeat native qualities, for the question here does not concern those qualities derived from education, or by instructive conversa- tion. Thus considered, the art of judging man, by the form of his members, and of his whole body, and which usually is called physiognomy, is well founded, I shall not here examine ^^ hether those who have endeavoured to explain the connexion there is" between soul and body, have or have not been suc- cessful. I here understand, by the form of its members, all that can be distinctly seen ; such as the whole figure, the pro- portion of the parts, and their positions. " But, as man, by education, society, instruction, and habit, may alter his natural inchnations, which I take for granted is a fact proved by daily experience, we can only judge what his natural inclinations were by the formation of his body ; and not what he may become, when, by the aid of reason or long habit, he may have resisted his natural inclina- tion ; as it is certain that no change can happen in the soul, without some corresponding act of the body. Yet, as we find natural inclination will continually be at warfare with reason and habit, and that, when natural inclination is good, will even contend with evil habit; hence, we may infer that these changes which have happened in the body cannot have entirely 2f) TESTIMONIES IN FAVOUR destroyed the original conformation of the members. The subject is delicate, and I am greatly inclined to believe phy- siognomy required much more knowledge and penetration than men possessed, at the time it was endeavoured to be reduced to a science." " As the lines of the countenance, especially, constitute its expression ; which expression is always true when the mind is free from constraint ; these lines, therefore, must discover what the natural inclinations are, when seen in their true and native position." — VerniJmftige Gedanken von der Mensclten thun und lassen. § 213, 14, 16, 19. SELLERT. 5. "Much indeed depends upon the aspect of the coun- tenance, with respect to propriety. What pleases or offends most in such aspect is the character of the mind and heart, which is expressed in the eye and countenance. The calm, mild, peaceable, noble, humane, sublime, mind; the mind of benevolence, sincerity, aiqd conscious rectitude, which has sub- dued its desires and passions, will insinuate itself into the features and windings of the body. Such a mind pleases, cap- tivates, enchants, produces decorum, the upright, noble, and majestic form, the gentle and beneficent traits of tlie coun- tenance, the open and candid eye, the serious yet benevolent brow, the hospitable yet humble visage; and the best com- plexion the face can receive is that which the heart and un- derstanding communicate. It is objected that appearances deceive. True ; appearances may be assumed, but, when assumed, they are seldom unaccompajiied by restraint ; and truth is as easily discovered in the face as in the real or appa- rently beautiful thought. Paint never can equal the native hue, however artfully applied ; nor do I hold the argument, that a fair face may conceal a vicious heart, to be of any weight. I am much more inclined to suppose such persons have a very strong propensity towards the qualities which are expressed in their countenances. It often indeed happens that the gloomy face may hide a cheerful heart, and the forbidding brow a humane mind. This may either be the effect of bad habits. OP PHYSIOGNOMY. 27 evil company, some defect of nature ; or it may be the conse- quence of continued ill practice, in early life, the effects of which have been afterwards overcome. " We are taught, by constant experience, that vicious in- clinations are transmitted from the heart to the face ; at least, this is true of certain vices. And what is the fairest coun- tenance disfigured by the hateful vices of lust, anger, falsehood, envy, avarice, pride, and discontent I What can external marks of decorum effect when an ignoble and insignificant mind is depicted on the countenance? The most certain means of rendering the face beautiful is to beautify the mind, and to purify it from vice. He who would make his countenance in- telligent, must so first make his mind. He who would impart to the face its most fascinating charms, must store the mind with religion and virtue, which will diffuse over it every ex- pression of sublime content. The great Young somewhere says, ' there is not a more divine spectacle than a beauteous virgin, kneeling at her devotions, in whose countenance the humility and innocence of virtue beam,' " And would not, in reality, this pleasing, this amiable ex- pression of the heart, which we so much admire, accompany us in all our actions, were we as good, as beneficent, as we give ourselves so much trouble to appear, and which we might be with so little ? Suppose two ministers, the natural gifts aud external advantages of whom are equal ; the one the sincere Christian, the other the perfect man of the world ; which will have the advantage of exterior appearances, he whose heart overflows with the noblest philanthropy, or he who is prompted by self-love to render himself pleasing ? " The voice, often, is an evident indication of character, the good or bad properties of which it will acquire : there are certain tones of voice which betray a want of understanding, and which, when we have learned to think, will no more be heard. The good inclinations and sensations of the heart will always modulate and inspire the voice." — Moralische Vorlesmigen, § 303, 307. 6. Of all the writers I am acquainted with, who have men- tioned physiognomy, none seem to me so profound, so exact, 28 TESTIMONIES IN FAVOUR SO clear, so great, I had almost said, so sacred, as Herder, The passages which I shall transcribe from his Plastick* (a work which may challenge all nations to produce its equal) are not only testimonies in favour of physiognomy, but almost render every thing I have hitherto said trivial. They nearly contain the system of physiognomy in nuce (in a nutshell), the essence and sum of physiognomy. " Where is the hand that shall grasp that which resides beneath the skull of man ? Who shall approach the surface of that now tranquil, now tempestuous abyss ! Like as the Deity has ever been adored in sacred groves, so is the Leba- non, the Olympus of man, that seat of the secret power of the Divinity, overshadowed ! We shudder at contemplating the powers contained in so small a circumference, by which a world may be enlightened, or a world destroyed. " Through those two inlets of soul, the eye and ear, how wonderful are the worlds of light and. sound, the words and images that find entrance ! " How significant are the descending locks that shade this mountain, this seat of the gods ! their luxuriance, their parti- tion, their intermingling !f " The head is elevated upon the peck. Olympus resting upon an eminence in which are united freedom and strength, compression and elasticity, descriptive of the present and the future. The neck it is that expresses, not what man was ori- ginally, but what he is by habit or accident become ; whether erect in defence of freedom, stretched forth and curbed in token of patient suffering, rising a Herculean pillar of fortitude, or sinking between the shoulders, the image of degradation ; still it is incontestably expressive of character, action, and truth. " Let us proceed to the countenance, in which shine forth mind, and divinity. " Plastick. Einic/e Wahmehmungen uber Form und Gestalt aus Vygma- lions bildendem, Traume. Tj /coAXos ; fpuTTjfin Tu
, "^^
AVVv.
PHYSIOGNOMY A SCIENCE. 37
with abhorrence. In the four following, 5 to 8, as visibly will
be perceived different gradations of terror, to the extreme.
A succession of calm, silent, restless, deep, and patient grief,
are seen in Fig. 9 to 16. The same observation will apply to
Plate IV., Fig. 1 to 8.
No man wiU expect cheerfulness, tranquillity, content,
strength of mind, and magnanimity, from Fig. 9 to 12.
Fear and terror are evident in 13, 14 ; and terror, heighi^
ened by native indocility of character, in 15, 16.
Such examples might be multiplied without number ; but to
adduce some of the most decisive of the various classes is suffi-
cient. We shall have continual occasion to exercise, and im-
prove, this kind of physiognomonical sensation in our readers.
PHYSIOGNOMY A SCIENCE.
''Though there may be some truth in it, still, physiognomy
never can be a science." Such will be the assertion of thou-
sands of our readers, and, perhaps, this assertion will be re-
peated, how clearly soever their objections may be answered,
and however little they may have to reply.
To such objectors we will say, physiognomy' is as capable of
becoming a science as any one of the sciences, mathematics
excepted. As capable as experimental philosophy, for it is
experimental philosophy ; as capable as physic, for it is a
part of the physical art ; as capable as theology, for it is
theology; as capable as the belles lettres, for it appertains to
the belles lettres. Like all these, it may, to a certain extent,
be reduced to rule, and acquire an appropriate character, by
which it may be taught. As in every other science, so in
this, much must be left to sensibility and genius. At pre-
sent it is deficient in determinate signs and rules.
Whoever will take the trouble, which every child has the
power of taking, of assuming those principles which all sciences
have in common, the purely mathematical excepted, will no
longer during his life, object that physiognomy is not scientific.
Either he must allow the appellation scientific to physiognomy,
or deny it to whatever is at present denominated science.
38 PHYSIOGNOMY A SCIENCE.
AVlieiiever trath or knowledge is explained by fixed princi-
ples, it becomes scientific, so far as it can be imparted by words,
lines, rules, and definitions. The question will be reduced to
whether it be possible to explain the undeniable striking differ-
ences, which exist between human faces and forms, not by ob-
scure, confused conceptions, but by certain characters, signs,
and expressions; whether these signs can communicate the
strength and weakness, health and sickness, of the body ; the
foUy and wisdom, the magnanimity and meanness, the virtue
and the vice of the mind. This is the only thing to be de-
cided; and he, who, ingt-ead of inyestigating this question,
should continue to dedaim against it, must either be deficient
in logical reasoning or in the love of truth.
TSTiat would be said of the man who should attempt to ba-
nish natural philosophy, physic, divinity, and the beUes lettres,
from the niunber of the sciences, because so many branches of
them yet remain uncultivated, and clouded by uncertainty I
Is it not true that the experimental philosopher can only
proceed with his discoveries to a certsun extent ; only can
communicate them by words ; can only say, " such and such
are my experiments, such my remai-ks, such is the number of
them, and such are the inferences I draw : pursue the track
tliat I have explored I" Yet will he not be unable, sometimes,
to say thus much ? Will not his active mind make a thousand
remarks, which he will want the power to communicate ? Will
not his eye penetrate recesses which he shall be unable to dis-
cover to that feebler vision that cannot discover for itself^
And is experimental philosophy, therefore, the less a science I
How great a perception of the truth had Leibnitz, before the
genius of Wolf had opened that road, in which, at present,
every cold logician may securely walk! And with which of
the sciences is it otherwise ? Is any science brought to per-
fection at the moment of its birth ? Does not genius conti-
nually, with eagle eye and flight, anticipate centuries ? How
long did the world wait for Wolf I Who, among the modems,
is more scientific than Bonnet ? Who so happily unites the
genius of Leibnitz and the phlegm of Wolf? Who more
accurately distinguishes falsehood from truth? Who more
condescendingly takes ignorance by the baud? Yet to whom
PHYSIOGNOMY A SCIENCE. 30
would he be able to communicate his sudden perception of the
truth ; the result or the sources of those numerous, small,
indescribable, rapid, profound remarks ? To whom could he
impart these by signs, tones, images, and rules ? Is it not the
same with physic, with theology, with all sciences, all arts ?
Is it not the same with painting, at once the mother and
daughter of physiognomy ? Is not this a science ? Yet how
little is it so ! " This is proportion, that disproportion.
This nature, truth, life, respiration in the very act. That is
coHstraiut, unnatural, mean, detestable." Thus far may be
said and proved, by principles, which every scholar is capable
of comprehending, retaining, and communicating. But where
is the academical lecturer who shall inspire the genius of paint-
ing ? As soon might books and instruction inspire the genius
of poetry. How infinitely does he, who is painter or poet
bom, soar beyond all written rule ? But must he, because he
possesses feelings and powers which are not to be reduced to
rule, he pronounced unscientific.
So in physiognomy ; physiognomonical truth may, to a cer-
tain degree, be defined, communicated by signs, and words, as
a science. We may affirm, this is sublime understanding.
Such a trait accompanies gentleness, such another wild pas-
sion. This is the look of contempt, this of innocence. Where
such signs are, such and such properties reside. By rule may
we prescribe — " In this manner must thou study. This is the
route thou must pursue. Then wilt thou arrive at that know-
ledge, which I, thy teacher, have acquired."
But will not the man of experience, the man of exquisite
organs, in this, as in other subjects, called scientific, see fur-
ther, deeper, and more distinctly I Will he not soar 1 Will
he not make numerous remarks, that are not reducible to
rule ; and shall such exceptions prevent us from calling that
a science which may be reduced to ride, and communicated by
signs ? Is not this common to all science as well as to phy-
siognomy ? Of which of the sciences are the limits defined,
where nothing is left to taste, feeling, and genius? We
should contemn that science, could such a science exist.
Albert Durer surveyed and measured men : Raphael mea;«
40 PHYSIOGNOMY A SCIENCE.
Bured men still more feelingly than Albert Durer. The former
drew with truth, according to rule ; the latter followed his ima-
gination ; yet was nature often depicted by him with not less
exactness. Scientific physiognomy would measure like Durer,
the physiognomy of genius hke Raphael. In the mean time,
the more observation shall be extended, language enriched,
drawing improved ; the more man shall be studied by man, to
him the most interesting and the finest of studies ; the more
physiognomy shall become scientific, accurately defined, and
capable of being taught, the more it shall then become the
science of sciences ; and, in reality, no longer a science, but
sensibility, a prompt and convincing inspection of the human
heart. Then shall folly busy herself to render it scientific, to
dispute, write, and lecture on its principles ; and then too, shall
it no longer be, what it ought, the first of human sciences.
The obligations existing between science and genius, and
genius and science, are mutual. In what manner, therefore,
must I act ! Shall I render physiognomy a science, or shall I
apply only to the eyes, and to the heart, and, occasionally,
whisper to the indolent spectator, lest he should contemn me
for a fool — " Look ! Here is something which you under-
stand, only recollect there are others who understand still
more V
I shall conclude this fragment with a parody on the words
of one, who, among other uncommon qualities with which he
was endowed, had the gift of discerning spirits ; by which he
could discover, from the appearance alone, whether one whom
no art could heal, had faith enough to become whole. — " For
we know in part, and our extracts and commentaries are in
part ; but when that which is perfect is come, then these frag-
ments shall be done away. As yet, what I write is the stam-
mering of a child ; but when I shall become a man, these will
appear the fancies and labours of a child. >For now we see
the glory of man, through a glass, darkly ; soon we shall see
face to face. Now I know in part, but then shall I know, even
as, also, I am known, by him, from whom, and through whom,
and in whom are all things ; to whom be glory, for ever and
ever. Amen!"
41
OF THE ADVANTAGES OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
Whether a more certain, more accurate, more extensive,
and thereby, a more perfect knowledge of man, be, or be not,
profitable ; whether it be, or be not, advantageous to gain a
knowledge of internal qualities from external form and feature,
is a question most deserving of inquiry and place among these
fragments.
This may be classed first as a general question, whether
knowledge, its extension and increase, be of consequence to
man ? I imagine this question can receive but one answer,
from all unprejudiced persons.
Man must be ignorant of his own nature, and of the nature
of things in general, as well as the relation there is between
human happiness and his powers and passions, the effects of
which so continually present themselves to his eyes; must
indeed be prejudiced to excessive absurdity, if he does not
perceive that the proper use of every power, and the proper
gratification of every passion, is good, profitable, and insepa^
rable from his welfare.
As certainly as man is possessed of corporeal strength, and
a will for the exercise of that strength, so certain is it that
to exercise strength is necessary. As certain as he has the
faculties, power, and will, to love, so certain is it that it is
necessary he should love. Equally certain is it that, if man
has the faculties, power, and will, to obtain wisdom, that he
shoidd exercise those faculties for the attainment of wisdom.
How paradoxical are those proofs that science and knowledge
are detrimental to man, and that a rude state of ignorance is
to be preferred to all that wisdom can teach !
I here djire, and find it necessary, to afiirm that physi-
ognomy has at least as many claims of essential advantage as
are granted by men, in general, to other sciences.
Further ; with how much justice may we not grant prece-
dency to that science which teaches the knowledge of men ?
What object is so important to man as man himself ? What
knowledge can more influence his happiness than the know-
42 OF THE ADVANTAGES
ledge of himself? This advantageous knowledge is the pecu-
liar province of physiognomy.
Of all the knowledge obtained by man, of all he can learn
by reasoning on his mind, his heart, his qualities and powers,
those proofs which are obtained by the aid of the senses, and
that knowledge which is founded on experience, has ever been
the most indisputable, and the most advantageous. Who,
then, among philosophers will not prefer the experimental
part of psychology to aU other knowledge ?
Therefore has physiognomy the threefold claims of the ad-
vantages arising from knowledge, in general, the knowledge of
man, in particular, and, especially, of this latter knowledge,
reduced to experiment.
Whoever would wish perfect conviction of the advantages
of physiognomy, let him, but for a moment, imagine that all
physiognomonical knowledge and sensation were lost to the
world. What confusion, what uncertainty, and absurdity
must take place, in millions of instances, among the actions of
men ! How perpetual must be the vexation of the eternal
uncertainty in all which we shall have to transact with each
other, and how infinitely would probability, which depends
upon a multitude of circumstances, more or less distinctly
perceived, be weakened by this privation ! From how vast a
number of actions, by whic'h men are honoured and benefited,
must they then desist !
Mutual intercourse is the thing of most consequence to
mankind, who_ are destined to live in society. The knowledge
of man is the soul of this intercourse, that which imparts to it
animation, pleasure and profit. This knowledge is, in some
degree, inseparable from, because necessary to, all men. And
how shall we with greater ease and certainty acquire this
kno^yledge than by the aid of physiognomy, understood in its
most extensive sense, since, in so many of his actions, he is
incomprehensible 1
Let the physiognomist observe varieties, make minute dis-
tinctions, establish signs, and invent words, to express these
his remarks ; form general, abstract, propositions ; extend and
improve physiognomonical knowledge, language, and sensation.
OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 43
and thus will the uses and advantages of physiognomy pro-
gressively increase.
Let any man suppose himself a statesman, a divine, a cour
tier, a physician, a merchant, friend, father^ or husband, and
he will easily conceive the advantages which he, in his sphere,
may derive from physiognomonical science. For each of these
stations, a separate treatise of physiognomy might be com-
posed.
When we speak of the advantages of physiognomy, we must
not merely consider that which, in the strictest sense, may be
termed scientific, or what it might scientifically teach. We
rather ought to consider it as combined with those immediate
consequences which every endeavour to improve physiognomy
will undoubtedly have, I mean the rendering of physiognomo-
nical observation and sensation more vigilant and acute.
As this physiognomonical sensation is ever combined with
a lively perception of what is beautiful, and what deformed ;
of what is perfect and what imperfect, (and where is the able
writer on physiognomy who will not increase these feelings ?)
how important, how extensive, must be the advantages of
physiognomy ! How does my heart glow at the supposition
that so high a sense of the sublime and beautiful, so deep an
abhorrence of the base and deformed, shall be excited ; that
all the charms of virtue shall actuate the man who examines
physiognomonically ; and that he who, at present, has a sense
of those charms, shall, then, so powerfully, so delightfully, so
variously, so incessantly, be impelled to a still higher improve-
ment of his nature !
Physiognomy is a source of the purest, the most exalted
sensations: an additional eye, wherewith to view the manifold
proofs of divine wisdom and goodness in the creation, and,
while thus viewing unspealcable harmony and truth, to excite
more ecstatic love for their adorable Author. Where the dark
inattentive sight of the inexperienced perceives nothing, there
the practical view of the physiognomist discovers inexhaus-
tible fountains, of delight, endearing, moral, and spiritual. It
is the latter only who is acquainted with the least variable,
most perspicuous, most significant, most eloquent, most beau-
44 OF THE ADVANTAGES OF PHSrSIOGNOMV.
tiful of languages ; the natural language of moral and intel-
lectual genius, of wisdom and virtue. He reads it in the
countenances of those who are unconscious of their own native
elocution. He can discover virtue, however concealed. With
secret ecstacy, the philanthropic physiognomist discerns those
internal motives, which would, otherwise, be first revealed in
the world to come. He distinguishes what is permanent in
the character from what is habitual, and what is habitual,
from what is accidental. He, therefore, who reads man in
this language, reads hiin most accurately.
Physiognomy unites hearts, and forms the most durable,
the most divine, friendships ; nor can friendship discover a
more solid rock of foundation than in the fair outlines, the
noble features, of certain countenances.
Physiognomy is the very soul of wisdom, since, beyond all
expression, it elevates the mutual pleasures of intercourse, and
whispers to the heart when it is necessary to speak, when to
be silent ; when to forewarn ; when to excite ; when to con-
sole, and when to reprehend.
Physiognomy is the terror of vice. No sooner should phy-
siognoraonical sensation be awakened into action, than consis-
torial chambers, cloisters, and churches, must become branded
with excess of hypocritical tyranny, avarice, gluttony, and
debauchery; which, under the mask, and to the shame, of
religion, have poisoned the welfare of mankind. The esteem,
reverence, and love, which have hitherto been paid them, by
the deluded people, would perish like autumnal leaves. The
world would be taught that to consider such degraded, such
pitiable forms, as saints, pillars of the church and state, friends
of men, and teachers of religion, were blasphemy.
To enumerate all the advantages of physiognomy would
require a large treatise — a number of treatises, for the vari-
ous classes of mankind. The most indisputable, though the
least important, of these its advantages, are those the painter
acquires ; who, if he be not a physiognomist, is nothing. The
greatest is that of forming, conducting, and improving the.
human heart. I shall have frequent opportunities of making
remarks in confirmation of the truth of what I have advanced.
OP THE DISADVANTAGKS OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 45
At present I shall only add, in conclusion of this too imperfect
fragment, what I have been in part already obliged to say,
that the imperfect physiognomonical knowledge I have ac~
quired, and my increase of physiognomonical sensation, have
daily been to me a source of indescribable profit. Nay, I will
venture to add, they were to me indispensable, and that I could
not, possibly, without their aid, have passed through life with
the same degree of pleasure. '
OF THE DISADVANTAGES OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
Methinks I hear some worthy man exclaim, " Oh thou who
hast ever hitherto lived the friend of religion and virtue, what
is thy present purpose ? What mischief shall not be wrought
by this thy physiognomy ! Wilt thou teach man the unblessed
art of judging his brother by the ambiguous expressions of his
countenance ? Are there not already sufficient of censorious-
ness, scandal, and inspection into the failings of others ? Wilt
thou teach man to read the secrets of the heart, the latent
feelings, and the various errors of thought I
" Thou dwellest upon the advantages of the science ; say est
thou shalt teach men to contemplate the beauty of virtue, the
hatefulness of vice, and, by these means, make them virtuous ;
and that thou inspirest us with an abhorrence of vice, by
obliging us to feel its external deformity. And what shall be
the consequence ? Shall it not be that for the appearance,
and not the reality, of goodness, man shall wish to be good ?
That, vain as he already is, acting from the desire of praise,
and wishing only to appear what he ought determinately to
be, he will yet become more vain, and will court the praise of
men, not by words and deeds, alone, but by assumed looks and
counterfeited forms? Oughtest thou not rather to weaken
this already too powerful motive for human actions, and to
strengthen a better ; to turn the eyes inward, to teach actual
improvement, and silent innocence, instead of inducing him to
reason on the outward, fair, expressions of goodness, or the
hateful ones of wickedness 2"
46 OV THE DISADVANTAGES
This is a heavy accusation, and has great appearance of
truth. Yet how easy is defence to me ; and how pleasant,
when my opponent accuses me from motives of philanthropy,
and not of splenetic dispute !
The charge is twofold. Censoriousness and vanity. I teach
men to slander each other, and to become hypocrites.
I wiU answer these charges separately ; nor let it be sup-
posed I have not often, myself, reflected on what they contain
really objectionable, and felt it in all its force.
The first relates to the possible abuse of this^ science. .
No good thing can be liable to abuse, till it first becomes a
good thing ; nor is there any actual good which is not the
innocent cause of abuse. Shall we, therefore, wish that good
should not exist ?
All the feeble complaints concerning the possible, probable,
or, if you will, inevitable, injurious effects, can only be allowed
a certain weight. Whoever is just will not fix his attention,
solely, on the weak side of the question. He will examine
both sides ; and, when good preponderates, he will be satisfiedj
and endeavour, by all means in his power, to evade, or dimi-
nish, the evil.
Who better can inspire us with this heroic fortitude in favour
of good, although attended by evil ; who better can cure us of
pusillanimous anxieties, and dread of evil while in the pursuit
of good, than the great Author and Founder of the noblest
good ? Who, notwithstanding his affectionate love of mankind,
his hatred of discord, and love of peace, so openly proclaimed,
" I am not come to send peace on the earth, but a sword."
He was grieved at every ill effect of his mission, but was
calm concerning every thing that was in itself good, and pre-
ponderately good in its consequences. I, also, grieve for the
ill effects of this book ; but I, also, will be calm, convinced of
the great good which shall be the result. I clearly pereeivfej
nor endeavour to conceal from myself, every disadva;ntage
which shall, in all probability, occur, at least, for a time, and
among those who content themselves with a slight taste of
knowledge, whether human or divine. I continually keep
every defect of the science in view, that I may exert all n,y
OP PHYSIOGNOMY. 47
powers to render it as harmless, and as profitable, as possible ;
nor can this prospect of probable abuses, attendant on every
good, on every divine work, induce me to desist ; being, as 1
am, at each step, more firmly convinced that I am labouring to
effect an excellent purpose, and that every man, who reads me
with attention, and has not the corruptest of hearts, will rather
be improved than injured.
Thus far, generally, and now for a more particular answer
to the first objection.
I.
I teach no black art ; no nostrum, the secret of which 1
might have concealed, which is a thousand times injurious for
once that it is profitable, the discovery of which is, therefore^
so difficult.
I do but teach a science, the most general, the most obvious,
with which all men are acquainted, and state my feelings, ob-
servations, and their consequences.
We ought never to forget that the very purport of outward
expression is to teach what passes in the mind, and that to
deprive man of this source of knowledge were to reduce him to
utter ignorance ; that every man is bom with a certain portion
of physiognomonical sensation, as certainly as that every man,
who is not deformed, is bom with two eyes ; that all men, in
their intercourse with each other, form physiognomonical deci-
sions, according as their judgment is more or less clear ; that
it is well known, though physiognomy were never to be reduced
to science, most men, in proportion as they have mingled with
the world, derive some profit from their knowledge of mankind,
even at the first glance ; and that the same effects were pro-
duced long before this question was in agitation. Whether,
therefore, to teach men to decide with more perspicuity and
certainty, instead of confusedly ; to judge clearly with refined
sensations, instead of rudely and erroneously, with sensations
more gross ; and, instead of suffering them to wander in the
dark, and venture abortive and injurious judgments, to teach
them, by physiognomonical experiments, by the rules of pru-
dence and caution, and the sublime voice of philanthropy, to
48 OF THE DISADVANTAGES
mistrust, to be diffident, and slow to pronounce, where they
imagine they discover evil ; whether this, I say, can be inju-
rious, I leave the world to determine.
I here openly and loudly proclaim, that whoever disregards
all my warnings, disregards the proofs and examples I give,
by which he may preserve himself from error ; whoever is
deaf to the voice of philanthropy, and, like a madman with a
naked sword, rushes headlong to assassinate his brother's good
name, the evil must be upon his head. When his wickedness
shall appear, and he shall be punished for his unpardonable
offences against his brother, my soul shall not be polluted by
his sin.
I believe I may venture to affirm very few persons will, in
consequence of this work, begin to judge ill of others who had
not before been guilty of the practice.
" This Jew has not the smallest respect for the legislature,
or his superiors ; he scourges the people, who have done him
no injury, with whips ; he goes to banquetings, wherever he is
invited, and makes merry ; he is a very mischief maker ; and
lately he said to his companions, I am not come to send peace,
but a sword."- What a judgment is here, from a partial
view of the actions of Christ ! But view his physiognomy, not
as he has been depicted by Raphael, the greatest of painters,
but by Holbein only, and if you have the smallest physiogno-
monical sensation, oh ! with what certainty of conviction, will
you immediately pronouflce a judgment entirely the reverse !
You will find that these very accusations, strong as they seem
in selection, are accordant to his great character, and worthy
the Saviour of the world.
Let us but well consider how much physiognomy discovers
to the skilful eye, with what loud-tongued certainty it speaks,
how perfect a picture it gives of him who stands open to its
inspection, and we, most assuredly, shall not have more, but
less to fear, from its decisions, when the science shall have the
good fortune to become more general, and shall have taught
superior accuracy to the feelings of men.
OP PHYSIOGNOMY. 49
II.
The second objection to physiognomy is that " it renders
men vain, and teaches them to assume a plausible appear-
ance." — When thou didst urge this, how great was the im-
pression thy words made upon my heart ; and how afflicted am
I to be obliged to answer thee, that this thy objection is ap-
plicable only to an ideal, and iimocent, and not an actual, and
wicked world.
The men thou wouldst reform are not children, who are
good, and know not that they are so ; but men, who must from
experience, learn to distinguish between good and evil ; men,
who, to become perfect, must necessarily be taught their own
noxious, and consequently their own beneficent qualities. Let,
therefore, the desire of obtaining approbation from the good
act in concert with the impulse to goodness. Let this be the
ladder; or, if you please, the crutch to support tottering
virtue. Suffer men to feel that God has ever branded vice
with deformity, and adorned virtue with inimitable beauty.
Allow man to rejoice when he perceives that his countenance
improves in proportion as his heart is ennobled. Inform him
only, that to be good from vain motives, is not actual good-
ness, but vanity ; that the ornaments of vanity will ever be
inferior and ignoble ; and that the dignified mien of virtue
never can be truly attained, but by the actual possession of
virtue, unsullied by the leaven of vanity.
Beholdest thou some weeping youth, who has strayed from
the paths of virtue, who, in his glass, reads, his own degrada-
tion, or reads it in the mournful eye of a tender, a discerning,
a physiognomonical friend ; a youth who has studied the worth
of human nature in the finest forms of the greatest masters. —
Suffer his tears to flow — emulation is roused ; and he hence-
forth determines to become a more worthy ornament of God's
beauteous ci-eation than he has hitherto been.
60
OF THE EASE OF STUDYING PHYSIOGNOMY.
To learn the lowest, the least difficult of sciences, at first
appears an arduous undertaking, when taught by words or
bo»ks, and not reduced to actual practice. What numerous
dangers and difficulties might be objected against all the daily
enterprises of men, were it not undeniable that they are
performed with facility ! How might not the possibility of
making a watch, and still more a watch worn in a ring, or of
sailing over the vast ocean, and of numberless other arts and
inventions be disputed, did we not behold them constantly
practised ! How many arguments might be urged against the
practice of physic ! And, though some of them may be unan-
swerable, how many are the reverse !
We must not too hastily decide on the possible ease, or
difficulty of any subject, which we have not yet examined.
The simplest may abound with difficulties to him who has not
made frequent experiments, and, by frequent experiments, the
most difficult may become easy. This, I shall be answered,
is the commonest of common place. Yet, on this depends
the proof of the facility of the study of physiognomy, and
of the intoleraiit folly of those who would rather contest the
possibility of a science than profit by its reality.
" Perhaps you have not examined it yourself, therefore can
say pothing on the subject." — I have examined, and can cer-
tainly say something. I own, I scarcely can ascribe to myself
one of the numerous qualities which I hold necessary to the
physiognomist. I am short-sighted, have little time, patience,
or skill in drawing ; have but a small knowledge of the world ;
am of a profession, which, notwithstanding all the opportu-
nities it may give me of obtaining a knowledge of mankind, yet
renders it impossible for me to make physiognomy my only
study ; I want anatomical knowledge, copiousness and accuracy
of language, which only can be obtained by continually reading
the best writers, epic and dramatic, of all nations and ages.
How great are these disadvantages ! Yet is there scarcely a
OF THE EASE OF STUDYING PHYSIOGKOMY. 61
day in which I do not add to, or confirm my former physiog-
nomonical remarks.
Whoever possesses the slightest capacity for, and has once
acquired the habit of, observation and comparison, should he
even be more deficient in requisites than I am, and should he
see himself daily and incessantly surrounded by hosts of diffi-
culties, will yet certainly be able to make a progress.
We have men constantly before us. In the very smallest
towns there is a continual influx and reflux of persons, of
various and opposite characters. Among these, many are
known to us without consulting physiognomy ; and that they
are patient, or choleric, credulous, or suspicious, wise, or foolish,
of moderate, or weak capacity, we are convinced past con-
tradiction. Their countenances are as widely various as their
characters, and these varieties of countenance may each be as
accurately drawn as their varieties of character may be de-
scribed.
We have daily intercourse with men ; their interest and
ours are connected. Be their dissimulation what it may,
passion will, frequently, for a moment, snatch off the mask,
and give us a glance, or at least, a side view, of their true
form.
Shall nature bestow on man the eye and ear, and yet have
made her language so difficult, or so entirely unintelligible 1
And not the eye and ear, alone ; but feeling, nerves, internal
sensations ; and yet have rendered the language of the super-
ficies so confused, so obscure ? She who has adapted sound to
the ear, and the ear to sound ; she who has created light for
the eye, and the eye for light ; she who has taught man, so
Boon, to speak, and to understand speech ; shall she have im-
parted innumerable traits and marlts of secret inchnations,
powers, and passions, accompanied by perception, sensation,
and an impulse to interpret them to his advantage ; and, after
bestowing such strong incitements, shall she have denied him
the possibility of quenching this his thirst of knowledge ; she
who has given him penetration to discover sciences still more
profound, though of much inferior utility ; who has taught him
to trace out the paths, and measure the curves, of comets ;
62 OF THE EASE OF STUDYING PHYSIOGNOMY.
who has put a telescope into his hand, that he may view the
satelUtes of planets, and has endowed him with the capability
of calculating their eclipses, through revolving ages ; shall so
kind a mother have denied her children, her truth-seeking
pupils, her noble philanthropic offspring, who are so wiUing to
admire, and rejoice in, the majesty of the Most High, viewing
man his master-piece, the power of reading the ever present,
ever open, book of the human countenance ; of reading man,
the most beautiful of all her works, the compendium of all
things, the mirror of the Deity ?
Canst thou, man of a sound understanding, believe this can
be so ? Canst thou credit such accusations agauist the most
affectionate of mothers ! Shall so much knowledge, with which
thou mayest dispense, be Destowed upon thee ; and shalt thou
have been denied that which is of most importance I
Awake, view man in all his infinite forms. Look, for thou
mayest eternally learn ; shake off thy sloth, and behold. Me-
ditate on its importance. Take resolution to thyself, and the
most difficult shall become easy.
Awake to the conviction of the necessity of the knowledge
of man, and be persuaded that this knowledge may be ac-
quired ; so shall recurring examples, and increasing industry,
smooth the path of knowledge.
The grand secret of simplifying science consists in analyz-
ing, in beginning with what is easy, and proceeding progres-
sively. By this method, miracles will at length be wrought.
The mountain of knowledge must be climbed step by step.
Which of the sciences, surrounded as they all are with dif-
ficulties, has not been highly improved by recurring observa-
tion, reflection, and industry ?
When I come to speak of the method in which physiognomy
ought, probably, to be studied, the intelligent reader will be
able to decide whether improvement in this science be so dif-
ficult, and impossiblti, as so many, fro.-n such opposite reasons,
have pretended.
53
OF THE DIFFICULTIES OF PHYSIOGNOMY,
This fragment ought to be one of the longest in the whole
work, although it will be one of the shortest. Not the most
copious volume would be sufficient to propound, and obviate,
all the numberless objections with which physiognomy is sur-
rounded.
All the objections brought against it, and certainly all are
not brought which might be, some of which are true, and
maiiy false, concur, at least, in proving the general conviction
of the difficulties which attend this inquiry into the effects of
nature.
I do not believe that all the adversaries of physiognomy can
conjure up so many difficulties as will soon present themselves
to the philosophical physiognomist himself. A thousand times
have I been dismayed at their number and variety, and almost
persuaded to desist from all further inquiry. I was, however,
continually encouraged and confirmed, in my pwrsuits, by those
certain, undeniable, proofs I had collected, and by thousands
of examples, which no single fact Could destroy. These gave
me fortitude, and determined me to vanquish a part of my
difficulties, and calmly to leave those which I found uncon-
querable, until some future opportunity might afford me the
means of reconciling so many apparent contradictions.
There is a peculiar circumstance attending the starting of
difficulties. There are some who possess the particular gift of
discovering and inventing difficulties, without number or limits,
on the most common and easy subjects. I could cite many
such persons who possess this gift in a very extraordmary
degree. Their character is very remarkable, and determinate.
In other respects they are excellent people. They may be the
salt, but cannot be the food, of society. I admire their talents,
yet should not wish for their friendship, were it possible they
should desire mine. I shall be pardoned this short digression.
I now return to the difficulties of physiognomy ; and, innumer-
able aa they are, I shall be brief, because it not being my in-
tention to cite them all in this place, the most important will
64 OF THE DIFFICULTIES
occasionally be noticed, and answered, in the course of the
work. Scarcely a fragment will be written in which the author
and reader will not have occasion to remark difficulties. Many
of these difficulties will be noticed in the fragment, which
treats on the character of the physiognomist, (p. 62). I have
an additional motive to be brief, which is, that most of these
difficulties are included in —
The indescribable minuteness of innumerable traits of cha-
racter — or the impossibility of seizing, expressing, and analyzing
certain sensations and observations.
Nothing can be more certain than that the smallest shades,
which are scarcely discernible to an inexperienced eye, fre-
quently denote total opposition of character. Almost every
succeeding page will afford opportunity of making this remark.
How wonderfully may the expression of- countenance and cha-
racter be altered by a small inflexion or diminishing, lengthen-
ing or sharpening, even though but of a hair's breadth ! Who-
ever wishes for immediate conviction of this truth, need but be
at the trouble to take five or six shades of the same counte-
nance, with all possible accuracy, and afterwards, as carefully
reduce and compare them to each other.
How difficult, how impossible, must this variety of the same
countenance, even in the most accurate of the arts of imita-
tion, render precision ! And the importance of precision to
physiognomy has, by numerous reasons, before been proved.
How often does it happen that the seat of character is so
hidden, so enveloped, so masked, that it can only be caught in
certain, and, perhaps, uncommon positions of the countenance,
which will again be changed, and the signs aU disappear, before
they have made any durable impression ! Or, supposing the
impression made, these distinguishing traits may be so dif-
ficult to seize, that it shall be impossible to paint, much less
to engrave, or describe them by language.
This may likewise happen to the most fixed, determinate,
and decisive marks. Numberless of these can neither be de-
scribed nor imitated. How many, even, are not to be retained
by the imagination ! How many, that are rather felt than
seen ' Who shall describe, who delineate, the cheering, the
OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 55
enlightening ray ; who the look of love ; who the soft benig-
nant vibration of the benevolent eye ; who the twilight, and
the day, of hope ; who the internal strong efforts of a mind,
wrapt in gentleness and humility, to effect good, to diminish
evil, and to increase present and eternal. happiness; whd all
the secret impulses and powers. Collected in the aspect of the
defender, or enemy, of truth ; of the bold friend, or the subtle
foe, of wisdom ; who " the poet's eye, in a fine phrenzy rolling,
glancing from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, while
imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown ;" who
shall all this delineate, or describe ? Can charcoal paint fire,
chalk light, or can colours live and breathe
It is with physiognomy as with all other objects of taste,
literal, or figurative, of sense, or of spirit. We can feel, but
cannot explain. The essence of every organized body is, in
itself, an invisible power. It is niind. Without this incom-
prehensible principle of life, there is neither intelligence, ac-
tion, nor power. "The world seeth not, knoweth not, the
spirit." Oh ! how potent is this truth, whether in declamar-
tion it be expressed with insipidity or enthusiasm, from the
Holy Spirit, that in person inspired the apostles and evan-
gelists of the Lord, to the spirit of the most insignificant
being ! The world seeth it not, and knoweth it not. This is
the most general proposition possible. The herd satiate them-
selves with words without' meaning, externals without power,
body without mind, and figure without essence. Overlooked
as it has been by mere literal readers, who are incapable of
exalting themselves to the great general sense of the word of
God, and who have applied the text to some few particular
cases, though it be the key to nature and revelation, though it
be itself the revelation of revelation, the very soul of know-
ledge, and the secret of secrets. " It is the spirit that maketh
alive, the flesh profiteth nothing."
Since likewise, (which who will or can deny ?) since all flesh
is valued according to the spirit within ; since it is the spirit
alone of which the physiognomist is in search, endeavouring to
discover, portray, and describe ; how difficult must it be for
him to delineate, by words oi images, th6 best, most volatile,
56 OF THE DIFFICULTIES
and spiritual part, to those who have neither eyes nor cars !
Words and images are but a still grosser kind of flesh and
spirit.
What I have here said can only be instructive and intelli-
gible to a few readers, but those few will find much in this
passage whereon to meditate.
Let us proceed.
How many thousand accidents, great and small, physical and
moral ; how many secret incidents, alterations, passions ; how
often will dress, position, light and shade, and innumerable
discordant circumstances, show the countenance so disadvan-
tageously, or, to speak more properly, betray the physiognomist
into a false judgment, on the true qualities of the countenance
and character ! How easily may these occasion him to over-
look the essential traits of character, and form his judgment
on what is wholly accidental !
" The wisest man, when languid, will look like a fool," says
Zimmermann ; and he may be right, if his observation extends
no further than the actual state of the muscular parts of the
countenance.
To cite one very common instance, out of a hundred, how
surprisingly may the small pox, during life, disfigure the coun-
tenance! How may it destroy, confuse or render the most
decisive traits imperceptible !
I shall not here enumerate the .difficulties which the most
accurate observer has to encounter in dissimulation ; I perhaps
may notice these in a separate fragment.
There is one circumstance, however, which I must not omit
to mention.
The best, the greatest, the most philosophical physiognomist
is still but man ; I do not here allude to those general errors
from which he cannot be exempt ; but that he is a prejudiced
man, and thaj; it is necessary he should be as unorejudiced as
God himself.
How seldom can he avoid viewing all objects through the
medium of his own inclinations or aversions, and judging
accordingly ! Obscure recollections of pleasure or displeasure,
which this or that countenance have by various incidents im-
OF PnYSIOGNOMY. 57
pressed upon his mind, impressions left on liis memory, bv
some object of love or hatred — how easily, nay, necessarily,
must these influence his judgment ! Hence, how many diffi-
culties must arise to physiognomy, so long as physiognomy
shall continue to be the study of men and not of angels !
We will therefore grant the opposer of physiognomy all he
can ask, although we do not live without hope that many
of the difficulties shall be resolved, which, at first, appeared to
the reader, and the author, inexplicable.
Yet how should I conclude this fragment without unbur-
dening my heart of an oppressive weight, something of which,
perhaps, I have before given the reader to understand —
That is, that " many weak and unphilosophical minds, who
never during life have made, nor ever will make, a deep obser-
vation, may be induced, from reading my writings, to imagine
themselves physiognomists."
" He that hath ears to hear let him hear."
As soon might ye become physiognomists by reading my
book, read and pore however industriously you please, as you
would become great painters, by copying the drawings of
Preysler, or reading the works of Hagedorn, or Fresnoy ;
great physicians, by studying Boerhaave ; or great statesmen,
by learning Grotius, Puffendorf, and Montesquieu, by rote.
OF THE RARITY OF THE SPIRIT OF PHYSIOGNO-
MONICAL OBSERVATION.
In the fragment, (p. 31), we have noticed how general, yet
obscure and indeterminate, physiognomonical sensation is : in
this we shall speak of the rarity of the true spirit of physiog-
nomonical observation. As few are the persons who can think
physiognomonically, as those who ca,n feel physiognomonically
are numerous.
Nothing can appear more easy than to observe, yet nothing
is more uncommon. By observe I mean to consider a subject
in all its various parts : first to consider each part separately,
and, afterwards, to examine its analogy with contiguous or
58 EARITY OF THE SPIRIT OF
ptTier possible objects ; to conceive and retain the various pro-
perties vsfhich delineate, define, and constitute the essence of
the thing under consideration ; to have clear ideas of these
properties, individually and collectively, as contributing to
form a whole, so as not to confound them veith other proper-
ties, or things, however great the resemblance.
We need only attend to the different judgments of a number
of men, concerning the same portrait, to be convinced of the
general want of a spirit of accurate observation : nor has any
thing so effectually, so unexpectedly convinced me, of the ex
treme rarity of the true spirit of observation, even among men
of genius, in famed, and fame-worthy observers, in far greater
physiognomists than I can ever hope to become ; nothing, I
say, has so perfectly convinced me of the rarity of this spirit,
as the confounding of widely different portraits and characters,
which, notwithstanding their difference, have been mistaken
for the same. To make erroneous remarks is a very common
thing ; and, probably, has often befell piyself. This all tends
to prove how uncommon an accurate spirit of observation is,
and how often it forsakes even those who have been most
assiduous in observing,
I shudder when I remember the supposed likenesses which
are found between certain portraits and shades, and the living
originals. How many men suppose each caricature a true
portrait, or, probably, sometimes, take it for an ideal ! * In
such judgments 1 perceive a most perfect analogy to the judg-
ments of the most common observers on character. Each
slander, in which there is but a shade of truth, is as usually
supposed to be the full and exact truth, as are so many
thousand wretched portraits supposed to be real and exact
likenesses.
Hence originate many pitiable physiognomonical decisions ;
hence are dedueed so many apparently well-founded objections
against physiognomy, objections that, in reality, are false.
* By Caricature, the Author appears to mea,n wthing more than an
imperfect drawing, and by Ide(tl, sometimes perfect beauty, sometimes a
fancy piece. These words occur so frequently, that they must inevitably
be often retained in the translation. T.
PHYSIO&NOMONICAL OBSERVATION. 59
We call that likeness which is unlike, because we are riot-
accustomed to observation sufficiently acute."
I cannot sufficiently caution physiognomists against haste
and erroneous comparisons and suppositions; or to wait till
they are well ' convinced that they have not imagined two
different countenances to resemble each other, or men which
are unlike to be the same.
I shall, therefore, take every opportunity in this work, to
render the reader attentive to the smallest, scarcely discerni-
ble, variations of certain countenances and traits, which, on a
first view, might appear to be aUke.
ADDITIONS;
PLATE V.
ANSON.
Fig. 1, 2. — Alike as these heads may appear to an inex-
perienced eye, how different ^e they to an observer ! A
countenance so noble as that of Anson can never be entirely
rendered mean, or wholly unresenibling. — Who that had once
beheld Anson, aJive or well painted, would, at viewing these
caricatures, exclaim Anson ! — Yet, on the contrary, how few
would pronounce— "Not Anson l^rrrHow few will be able accu-
rately to perceive and define the very essential differences
between these faces ! The observer will see where the unob-
servant are blind ; and while the latter are dumb, will pronounce
the forehead of 2 is more thoughtful and profound than that
of 1—^1 forms no such deep consistent; plans as 2 — The eye-
brows of 1 are more firm and closely knit than those of 2. —
So likewise is the eye of l ; but that of 2 is more open and
serene. The nose of 2 is- something more compact, and, there-,
fore, more 'judicious, than 1 ; the mouth of 1 is awry, and
somewhat small; -the chin of 2 is likewise more manly and
Jioiiie than of 1.
/Fig. 3 to 6. — Four caricature profiles of broken Grecian
^usts, will, to many hasty observers, though they should not be;
wholly destitute of physiognomonibaJ sensation, seem nearly
60 ADUITIONS.
alike in signification ; yet are they essentially difierent. The
nose excepted, Fig. 3, has nothing in common with the rest ;
the manly closing and firmness of the mouth, as little permits
the physiognomonical observer to class this countenance with
the others, as would the serious aspect, the arching and
motion of the forehead, and its descent to the nose. Let any
one further consider this descent of the forehead to the nose ;
afterwards the nose itself, and the eye, in 4, 5, and 6. Let him
compare them, and the scientific physiognomist will develope
characters almost opposite. In the nose of 5, he will perceive
more taste and understanding than in the rest ; the whole
under part of the countenance, the general traits of volup-
tuousness excepted, is, in each of them, different. 6 is the
most sensual and effeminate of the whole, although it is de-
prived of much of its grace by the ill-drawn mouth.
Fig. 7, 8. — Two drawings of the same profile : the difference
between them is to the observer remarkable. Fig. 8 will appear
to him, from the forehead, nose, and eyebrows, all of which are
close, firm and sharp, as betokening acute penetration and
deep thought. Fig. 7, will be found more cheerful. In both
he will perceive the traits of mind and genius.
Fig. 9, 10. — Are two shades of the same countenance,
which, however, bear a greater resemblance than different
shades usually do. Many would declare them very like each
other. Yet how many varieties may not be discovered by the
accurate observer ! The mouth, in 9, by the easy unconstrained
manner in which it is closed, bespeaks a calm, placid, settled,
effeminate mind. In 10, on the contrary, if not a character
directly the teverse, essentially different, by the negligent
dropping of the under lip. How few will be able to discover,
before they are told, in the scarcely visible sharpening of the
bone above the eye, of 10, the extreme. penetration it denotes!
Fig. 11, 12. — However similar these two shades of the same
person may appear ; to the physiognomist, that is, to a rare
and accurate observer, they are not so. In the forehead, the
bones above the eye, and the descent to the nose, in 12, there
is something more of understanding than in the same parts of
1 1, although the difference is scai-celv that of a haii-'s breadth.
EA7
ADDITIONS. 6]
Ho\v few ;vvill find in the- bending and point of the nose of .12,
a quicker 'perception of. sensual beauty ; and superior under
standing in 11 ! Yet this does not escape the. physiognomist,
to whom, likewise, the mouth, in 12, betokeds firm powers.
The .descent of the under lip, at the corner, of 1 1 , is, by a
hair's breadth, more pute and noble, than-12.
PLATE VI.
Fig. 1 to 6. — Have,^ to the unpractised, much resemblance,
yet some of them have differences too vast to be imagined on
a first view. The hasty observer will find some dissimilar, and
the accurate all.
1, Is benevolent. The forehead'' and nose betoken under-
standing, but irresolution. , 2, The caricature of an almost
sublime countenance. The least experienced connoisseur will
find much to approve. By an error infinitely small, infinitely
much is, lost. Had the upper part of the forehead been
little more compact, more vigorously drawii, the acute ob-
server could not then have perceived tokens of imbecility,
which are now to him so visible, though so difficult to explain.
3, All will discover, in this, goodness tinged with weakness.
But that the marks of weakness are chiefly to be sought in the
arching of the forehead j and the, outline of the chin, is only
perceptible-to the intuition of experience.* 4, The nose speaks
taste and knowledge, the eye penetration. None but the
physiognomist will remark dulness, and thoughtless haste, in
the forehead and mouth. 5, Is, to general sensation, the pro
file of a benevolent, but weak and ordinary man. The seat
of weakness will be seen, by the physiognomist, in the fore-
head, eye, and mouth. 6, Inanimate thoughtlessness will be
universally perceived in this countenance. The experienced
only will discover the peculiar insipidity of the mouth.
Inibecility.is the character common to Fig. 7 to 12, Yet
how various are the modifications, definable only by the phy-
siognomist ! And how little is explained by the general term
imbecility, concerning heads so different ! 7, Has a noble nose,
* Der Geubte intuitif. '
62 THE PHYSrOGSOJIIST.
with an almost common forenead. Were the back part of the
eye less projecting, it would be much wiser. 8, Is more bene-
volent and noble, more intelligent in the under part, and more
weak in the upper. 9, Inanity with a mixture of contempt.
10, The nose excepted, vacant and more perverse than all the
other five. 11, The under half not vulgar, but the full fore-
head denotes imbecility. In the mouth, only, are taste and
understanding united. 12, A nose like this, which speaks a
person of discernment, does not correspond with so foolish a
countenance.
Fig, 13 tol6. — Four additional profiles, in the Grecian style,
a few remarks on which may show the inquiring reader how
minute are traits which have great signification ; and how dif-
ficult it is, to the inexperienced eye, not to confound things in
themselves very dissimilar. 13, 14, Have a great resemblance
to each other; as likewise have 15, 16. Physiognomonieal
sensation would generally pronounce them to be four sisters.
The forehead of 14 will be found to possess a small superior
degree of delicacy over that of 13 ; the forehead of 15 much
inferior to 14, and the forehead of 16 still inferior to 15. The
physiognomist will read more of affection in 16 than 15, and
something less of delicacy ; and more of voluptuousness in 15
than in 16.
The con verse. of the proposition we have hitherto maintained
will, in certain countenances, be true. The observer will per-
ceive similarity in a hundred countenances which, to the inex-
perienced, appear entirely dissimilar.
THE PHYSIOGNOMIST.
All men have talents for all things, yet we may safely
maintain very few have the determinate and essential talents.
All men have talents for drawing. They can all learn to
wi'ite, well or ill. Yet not an excellent draughtsman will be
produced in ten thousand. The same may be affirmed of elo-
quence, poetry, and physiognomy.
All men, who have eyes and ears, have talents to become
THE PHYSIOGNOMIST. 63
physiognomists. Yet, not one in ten thousand can become an
excellent physiognomist.
It may therefore be of use to sketch the character of the
true physiognomist, that those who are deficient in the requi-
site talents may be deterred from the study of physiognomy.
The pretended physiognomist, with a foolish head, and a wicked
heart, is certainly one of the most contemptible and mischiev-
ous creatures that crawls on God's earth.
No one whose person is not well formed can become a good
physiognomist. The handsomest painters were the greatest
painters. Reubens, Vandyke, and Raphael, possessing three
gradations of beauty, possessed three gradations of the genius
of painting. The physiognomists of greatest symmetry are
the best : as the most virtuous best can determine on virtue,
and the just on justice, so can the most handsome coun-
tenances on the goodness, beauty, and noble traits of the
human countenance ; and, consequently, on its defects and
ignoble properties. The scarcity of human beauty is a certain
reason why physiognomy is so much decried, and finds so
many opponents.
No one, therefore, ought to enter the sanctuary of physi-
ognomy who has a debased mind, an ill-formed forehead, a
blinking eye, or a distorted mouth. " The light of the body
is the eye ; if, therefore, thine eye be single, thy whole body
shall be full of light ; but if thine eye be evil thy whole body
shall be full of darkness : if, therefore, that light that is in thee
be darkness, how great is that darkness !"
Any one who would become a physiognomist cannot meditate
too much on this text.
Oh ! single eye, that beholdest all things as they are, seest
nothing falsely, with glance oblique, nothing overlookest — Oh .'
most perfect image of reason and wisdom — why do I say
image ? Thou that art reason and wisdom themselves ; with-
out thy resplendent light would all that appertains to physiog-
nomy become dark !
Whoever does not, at the first aspect of any man, feel a
certain emotion of affection or dislike, attraction or repulsion,
never can become a physiognomist.
64 THE PHYSIOGNOMIST.
Whoever studies art more than nature, and prefers what
the painters call manner to truth of drawing ; whoever does
not feel himself moved almost to tears, at beholding the ancient
ideal beauty, and the present depravity of men and imitative
art; whoever views antique gems, and does not discover
enlarged intelligence in Cicero; enterprising resoluti(fti in
CsBsar; profoimd thought in Solon; invincible fortitude in
Brutus ; in Plato godlike wisdom ; or, in modem medals, the
height of human sagacity in Montesquieu ; in Haller the
energetic contemplative look, and most refined taste ; the
deep reasoner in Locke ; and the witty satirist in Voltaire,
even at the first glance,- never can become a physiognomist.
Whoever does not dwell with fixed rapture on the aspect of
benevolence in action, supposing itself unobserved ; whoever
, remains unmoved by the voice of innocence ; the guileless look
of inviolated chastity: the mother contemplating her beau-
teous sleeping infant ; the warm pressure of the hand of a
friend, or his eye swimming in tears ; whoever can lightly tear
himself from scenes like these, and turn them to ridicule,
might much easier commit the crime of parricide than become
a physiognomist.
What then is required of the physiognomist ? What should
his inclinations, talents, qualities, and capabilities be !
His first of requisites, as has, in part, already been remarked,
should be a body well proportioned, and finely organized : accu-
lacy of sensation, capable of receiving the most minute out-
ward impressions, and easily transmitting them faithfully to
memory ; or, as I ought rather to" say, impressing them upon
the imagination, and the fibres of the brain. His eye, in par-
ticular, must be excellent, clear, acute, rapid, and firm.
Precision in observation is the very soul of physiognomy.
The physiognomist must possess a most delicate, swift, certain,
most extensive spirit of observation. To observe is to be
attentive, so as to fix the mind on a particular object, which
it selects, or may select, for consideration, from a number of
surrounding objects. To be attentive is to consider some one
particular object, exclusively of all others, and to analyze, con-
sequently, to distinguish, its peculiarities. To observe, to be
THE PHYSIOGNOMIST. 65
attentive, to distinguish what is similar, what dissimilar, to
discover proportion, and disproportion, is the office of the
understanding.
Without an accurate, superior, and extended understanding,
the physiognomist will neither be able rightly to observe nor
to compare and class his observations ; much less to draw the
necessary conclusions. Physiognomy is the highest exercise
of the understanding, the logic of corporeal varieties.
The true physiognomist unites to the clearest and profound-
est understanding the most lively, strong, comprehensive ima-
gination, and a fine and rapid wit. Imagination is necessary
to impress the traits with exactness, so that they may be
renewed at pleasure ; and to range the pictures in the mind
as perfectly as if they still were visible, and with all possible
order.
Wit * is indispensable to the physiognomist, that he may
easily perceive the resemblances that exist between objects.
Thus, for example, he sees a head or forehead possessed of
certain characteristic marks. These marks present themselves
to his imagination, and wit discovers to what they are similar.
Hence greater precision, certainty, and expression, are im-
parted to his images. He must have the capacity of unitiTig
the approximation of each trait, that he remarks ; and, by the
aid of wit, to define the degrees of this approximation. With-
out wit, highly improved by experience, it will be impossible
for him to impart his observations with perspicuity. Wit
alone creates the physiognomonical language ; a language, at
present, so unspeakably poor. No one who is not inexhaustibly
copious in language can become a physiognomist; and the
highest possible copiousness is poor, comparatively with the
wants of physiognomy. All that language can express, the
physiognomist must be able to express. He must be the
creator of a new language, which must be equally precise and
alluring, natural and intelligible.
All the productions of art, taste, and mind ; all vocabula-
* Wit is here used in a less discriminating, and therefore a much more
general sense, than is usually appropriated to it in the English language.
Cfi THE PHySIOGNOMIST.
ries of all nations, all the kingdoms of nature, must obey his
command, must supply his necessities.
The art of drawing is indispensable, if he would be precise
in his definitions, and accurate in his decisions. Drawing is
the first, most natural, and most unequivocal language of
physiognomy ; the best aid of the imagination, the only means
of preserving and communicating numberless peculiarities,
shades, and expressions, which are not by words, or any other
mode, to be described. The physiognomist who cannot draw
readily, accurately, and characteristically, will be unable to
make, much less to retain, or communicate, innumerable ob-
servations.
Anatomy is indispensable to him ; as also is physiology, or
the science of the human body, in health ; not only that he
may be able to remark any disproportion, as well in the solid
as the muscular parts, but that he may likewise be capable of
naming these parts in his physiognomonical language. He
must further be accurately acquainted with the temperaments
of the human body. Not only its different colours and ap-
pearances, occasioned by the mixture of the blood, but also
the constituent parts of the blood itself, and their different
proportions. Still more especially must be understood the
external symptoms of the constitution, relative to the nervous
system, for on this more depends than even on the knowledge
of the blood.
How profound an adept ought he to be in the knowledge
of the human heart, and the manners of the world ! How
thoroughly ought he to inspect, to feel himself ! That most
essential, yet most difficult of all knowledge, to the physiogno-
mist, ought to be possessed by him in all possible perfection.
In proportion only as he knows himself will he be enabled to
know others.
Not only is this self-knowledge, this studying of man, by the
study of his own heart, with the genealogy and consanguinity
of inclinations and passions, their various symptoms and
changes, necessary to the physiognomist, for the foregoing
causes, but also for an additional reason.
" The peculiar shades" (I here cite the words of one of the
THE PH-i'SIOGNOMIST. G7
critics on my first essay) — " the peculiar shades of feeling,
which most affect the observer of any object, frequently have
relation to his own mind, and will be soonest remarked by him
in proportion as they sympathize with his own powers. They
will affect him most, according to the manner in which he is
accustomed to survey the physical and moral world. Many
therefore of his observations are applicable only to the observer
himself ; and, however strongly they may be conceived by him,
he cannot easily impart them to others. ■ Yet these minute
observations influence his judgment. For this reason, the
physiognomist must, if he knows himself, which he in justice
ought to do before he attempts to know others, once more
compare his remarks with his own peculiar mode of thinking,
and separate those which are general from those which are
individual, and appertain to himself." I shall make no com-
mentary on this important precept. I have given a similar
one in the fragment on the difficulties of studying physiognomy,
and in other places.
I shall here only repeat that an accurate and profound
knowledge of his own heart is one of the most essential quali-
ties in the character of the physiognomist.
Reader, if thou hast not often blushed at thyself, even
though thou shouldest be the best of men, for the best of men
is but man ; if thou hast not often stood with downcast eyes,
in presence of thyself and others ; if thou hast not dared to
confess to thyself, and to confide to thy friend, that thou art
conscious the seeds of every vice are latent in thy heart ; if,
in the gloomy calm of solitude, having no witness but God
and thy own conscience, thou hast not a thousand times
sighed and sorrowed for thyself; if thou-wantest the power
to observe the progress of the passions, from their very com-
mencement ; to examine what the impulse was which deter-
mined thee to good or ill, and to avow the motive to God and
thy friend, to whom thou mayest thus confess thyself, and who
also may disclose the recesses of his soul to thee : a friend
who shall stand before thee the representative of man and
God, and in whose estimation thou also shalt^De invested with
the same sacred character; a friend in whom thou mayest
68 THE PHYSIOGNOMIST.
see thy very soul, and who shall reciprocally behold himself in
thee ; if, in a word, thou art not a man of worth, thou never
canst learn to observe, or know men well ; thou never canst
be, never wilt be, worthy of being a good physiognomist.
— If thou wishest not that the talent of observation should
be a torment to thyself and an evil to thy brother, how good,
how pure, how affectionate, how expanded, ought thy heart to
be ! How mayest thou ever discover the marks of benevo-
lence and mild forgiveness, if thou thyself art destitute of
such gifts ? How, if philanthropy does not make thine eye
active, how mayest thou discern the impressions of virtue and
the marks of the sublimest sensations ? How often wilt thou
overlook them in a countenance disfigured by accident ? Sur-
rounded thyself by mean passions, how often will such false
observers bring false intelligence ? Put far from thee self-in-
terest, pride, and envy, otherwise " thine eye will be evil, and
thy whole body full of darkness." Thou wilt read vices on
that forehead whereon virtue is WTitten, and wilt accuse others
of those errors and failings of which thy own heart accuses thee.
Whoever bears any resemblance to thine enemy, will by thee
be accused of all those failings and vices with which thy ene-
my is loaded by thy own partiality and self-love. Thine eye
will overlook the beauteous traits, and magnify the discordant.
Thou wilt behold nothing but caricatm-e and disproportion.
I hasten to a conclusion.
That the physiognomist should know the world, that he
should have intercourse with all manner of men, in all various
ranks and conditions, that he should have travelled, should
possess extensive knowledge, a thorough acquaintance with
artists, mankind, vice and virtue, the wise and the foolish, and
particularly with children, together with a love of literature,
and a taste for painting and the other imitative arts ; I say,
can it need demonstration that all these and much more are to
him indispensable 1 — To sum up the whole ; to a well formed,
well organized body, the perfect physiognomist must unite an
acute spirit of observation, a lively fancy, an excellent wit,
and, with numerous propensities to the arts and sciences, a
strong, benevolent, enthusiastic, innocent heart ; a heart con-
ArPAHENTLY FALSE DECISIONS OF PHYSIO(iN()MY. 69
fident in itself, and free from the passions inimical to man. No
one, certainly, can read the traits of magnanimity, and the
high qualities of the mind, who is not himself capable of mag-
nanimity, honourable thoughts, and sublime actions.
I have pronounced judgment against myself in writing these
characteristics of the physiognomist. Not false modesty, but
conscious feeling, impels me to say I am as distant from the
true physiognomist as heaven is from earth. I am but the
fragment of a physiognomist, as this work is but the fragment
of a system of physiognomy.
OF THE APPARENTLY FALSE DECISIONS OF
PHYSIOGNOMY.
One of the strongest objections to the certainty of phy-
siognomy is, that the best physiognomists often judge very
erroneously.
It may be proper to make some remarks on this objection.
Be it granted the physiognomist often errs ; that is to say,
his discernment errs, not the countenance — but to conclude
there is no such science as physiognomy, because physiogno-
mists err, is the same thing as to conclude there is no reason,
because there is much false reasoning.
To suppose that, because the physiognomist has made some
erroneous decisions, he has no physiognomonical discernment,
is equal to supposing that a man, who has committed some
mistakes of memory, has no memory ; or, at best, that his
memory is very weak. We must be less hasty. We must
first inquire in what proportion his memory is faithful, how
often it has failed, how often been accurate. The miser may
perform ten acts of charity : must we therefore affirm he is
charitable I Should we not rather inquire how much he might
have given, and how often it has been his duty to give ?— The
virtuous man may have ten times been guilty, but, before he
is condemned, it ought to be asked, in how many hundred
instances he has acted uprightly. He who games must oftener
lose than he who refrains from gaming. He who slides or
70 OF THE APPARENTLY FALSE
skaits upon the ice is in danger of many a fall, and of being
laughed at by the less adventurous spectator. Whoever fre-
quently gives alms is liable, occasionally, to distribute his
bounties to the unworthy. He, indeed, who never gives, can-
not commit the same mistake, and may, truly, vaunt of his
prudence, since he never furnishes opportunities for deceit. In
hke manner he v/ho never judges never can judge falsely. The
physiognomist judges oftener than the man who ridicules phy-
siognomy, consequently, must oftener err than he who never
risks a physiognomonical decision.
Which of the favourable judgments of the benevolent phy-
siognomist may not be decried as false ? Is he not himself a
mere man, however circumspect, upright, honourable and
exalted he may be ; a man who has in himself the root of all
evil, the germ of every vice ; or, in other words, a man whose
most worthy propensities, qualities, and inclinations, may
occasionally be overstrained, wrested, and warped ?
You behold a meek man, who, after repeated and continued
provocations to wrath, persists in silence ; who, probably,
never is overtaken by anger, when he himself alone is injured.
The physiognomist can read his heart, fortified to bear and
forbear, and immediately exclaims, behold the most amiable,
the most unconquerable, gentleness ! — You are silent — you
laugh — you leave the place, and say, " Fye on such a physiog-
nomist ! How full of wrath have I seen this man !" — When
was it that you saw him in wrath ? — Was it not when some
one had mistreated his friend? — " Yes, and he behaved like a
frantic man in defence of this friend, which is proof sufficient
that the science of physiognomy is a dream, and the physiog-
nomist a dreamer." — But who is in an error, the physiognomist
or his censurer ? — The wisest man may sometimes utter folly
— this the physiognomist knows, but, regarding it not, reveres
and pronounces him a wise man. — You ridicule the decision,
for you have heard this wise man say a foolish thing. — Once
more, who is in an error ? — The physiognomist does not judge
from a single incident, and often not from several combining
incidents. — Nor does he, as a physiognomist, judge only by
actions. He observes the propensities, the character, the
DECISIONS OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 71
essential qualities, and powers, which, often, are apparently
contradicted by individual actions.
Again — he who seems stupid or vicious, may yet probably
possess indications of a good understanding, and propensi-
ties to every virtue. Should the beneficent eye of the physiog-
nomist, who is in search of good, perceive these qualities, and
announce them ; should he not pronounce a decided judgment
- against the man, he immediately becomes a subject of laugh-
ter. Yet how often may dispositions to the most heroic virtue
be there bm-ied ! How often may the fire of genius lay deeply
smothered beneath the embers ! — Wherefore do you so anxi-
ously, so attentively, rake among these ashes ? — Because here
is warmth — notwithstanding that at the first, second, third,
fourth raking, dust only will fly in the eyes of the physiogno-
mist and spectator. The latter retires laughing, relates the
attempt, and makes others laugh also. The former may per-
haps patiently wait and warm himself by the flame he has
excited. Innumerable are the instances in which the most
excellent qualities are overgrown and stifled by the weeds of
error. Futurity shall discover why, and the discovery shall
not be in vain. The common unpractised eye beholds only a
desolate wilderness. Education, circumstances, necessities,
stifle every effort towards perfection. The physiognomist in-
spects, becomes attentive, and waits. He sees and observes
a thousand contending, contradictory qualities ; he hears a
multitude of voices exclaiming, What a man ! But he hears
too the voice of the Deity exclaim. What a man ! He prays,
while those revile who cannot comprehend, or, if they can, will
not, that in the countenance, under the form they view, lie
concealed beauty, power, wisdom, and a divine nature.
Still further — the physiognomist, or observer of man, who
is a man— a Christian — that is to say, a wise and good man,
will a thousand times act contrary to his own physiognomonical
sensation — I do not express myself accurately — he appears to
act contrary to his internal judgment of the man. Pie speaks
not all he thinlis — this is an additional reason why the phy-
siognomist so often appears to err ; and why the true observer,
observation, and truth, are in him, so often mistaken and ridi-
12 APPARE^TLV FALSE DECISIONS OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
culed. He reads the villain in the countenance of the beggar
at his door, yet does not turn away, but speaks friendly to
him, searches his heart, and discovers ; — Oh God, vphat does
he discover ! — An immeasurable abyss, a chaos of vice ! — But
does he discover nothing more, nothing good ! — Be it granted
he finds nothing good, yet he there contemplates clay which
must not say to the potter, " why hast thou made me thus !"
He sees, prays, turns away his face, and hides a tear which
speaks, with eloquence inexpressible, not to man, but to God
alone. He stretches out his friendly hand, not only in pity to
a hapless wife, whom he has rendered unfortunate, not only
for the sake of his helpless innocent children, but in compas-
sion to himself, for the sake of God, who has made all things,
even the wicked themselves, for his own glory. He gives,
perhaps, to kindle a spark which he yet perceives, and this is
what is called (in scripture) giving his heart. — Whether the
unworthy man misuses the gift, or misuses it not, the judg-
ment of the donor will alike be arraigned. Whoever hears of
the gift will say, how has this good man again suffered himself
to be deceived !
Man is not to be the judge of man — and who feels this
truth more coercively than the physiognomist ? The mightiest
of men, the Ruler of man, came not to judge the world, but to
save. Not that he did not see the vices of the vicious, nor
that he concealed them from himself, or others, when philan-
thropy required they should be remarked and detected. — Yet
he judged not, punished not. — He forgave — " Go thy way, sin
no more." — Judas he received as one of his disciples, protected
him, embraced him — him in whom he beheld his future
betrayer.
Good men are most apt to discover good. — Thine eye cannot
be Christian if thou givest me not thy heart. Wisdom with-
out goodness is folly, I wiU judge justly and act benevolently.
Once more — a profligate man, an abandoned woman, who
have ten times been to blame when they have affirmed they
were not, on the eleventh are condemned when they are not to
blame. They apply to the physiognomist. He inquires, and
iinds that, this time, they are innocent. Discretion loudly tells
GENERAL OBJECTIONS MADE TO PDYSlOGNOMy. 73
him he will be censured should he suffer it to be known that he
beheves them innocent ; but his heart more loudly commands
him to speak, to bear witness for the present innocence of such
rejected persons. A word escapes him, and a multitude of
reviling voices at once are heard — " Such a judgment ought
not to have been made by a physiognomist !" — Yet who has
decided erroneously ?
The above are a few hints and reasons to the discerning, to
induce them to judge as cautiously concerning the physiogno-
mist as they would wish him to judge concerning themselves,
or others.
OF THE GENERAL OBJECTIONS MADE TO
PHYSIOGNOMY.
Innumerable are the objections which may be raised against
the certainty of judgments drawn from the lines and features
of the human countenance. Many of these appear to me to
be easy, many diflScult, and some impossible to be answered.
Before I select any of them, I will first state some general
remarks, the accurate consideration and proof of which will
remove many difficulties.
It appears to me that in all researches, we ought first to
inquire what can be said in defence of any proposition. One
irrefragable proof of the actual existence and certainty of a
thing will overbalance ten thousand objections. One positive
witness, who has all possible certainty that knowledge and
reason can give, will preponderate against innumerable others
who are only negative. All objections against a certain truth
are in reality only negative evidence. " We never observed
this : we never experienced that." — Though ten thousand
should make this assertion, what would it prove against one
man of understanding, and sound reason, who should answer,
" But I have observed ; and you, also, may observe, if you
please." No well-founded objection can be made against the
existence of a thing visible to sense. Argument cannot dis-
prove fact. No two opposing positive facts can be adduced ;
all objections to a fact, therefore, must be negative.
74 OF THE GENERAL OBJECTIONS
Let this be applied to physiognomy. Positive proofs of the
true and acknowledged signification of the face and its features,
against the clearness and certainty of which nothing can be
alleged, render innumerable objections, although they cannot
probably be answered, perfectly insignificant. Let us there-
fore endeavour to inform ourselves of those positive arguments
which physiognomy affords. Let us first make ourselves stead-
fast in what is certainly true, and we shall soon be enabled to
answer many objections, or to reject them as unworthy any
answer.
It appears to me that in the same proportion as a man
remarks and adheres to the positive, v/ill be the strength and
perseverance of his mind. He whose talents do not surpass
mediocrity, is accustomed to overlook the positive, and to
maintain the negative with invincible obstinacy.
Thou shouldest first consider what thou art, what is thy
knowledge, and what are thy qualities and powers ; before thou
inquirest what thou art not, knowest not, and what the quali-
ties and powers are that thou hast not. This is a rule which
every man, who wishes to be wise, virtuous and happy, ought,
not only to prescribe to himself, but, if I may use so bold a
figure, to incorporate with, and make a part of, his very soul.
The truly wise always first directs his inquiries concerning what
is 5 the man of weak intellect, the pedant, first searches for
that which is wanting. The true philosopher loolss first for
the positive proofs of the proposition. I say first — I am very
desirous that my meaning should not be misunderstood, and,
therefore, repeat, first. The superficial mind first examines
the negative objections. — This has been the method pursued
by infidels, the opponents of Christianity. Were it granted
that Christianity is false, still this method would neither be lo-
gical, true, nor conclusive. Therefore such modes of reasoning
must be set aside, as neither logical nor conclusive, before we
can proceed to answer objections.
To return once more to physiognomy : the question will be
reduced to this. — " Whether there be any proofs sufficiently
positive and decisive, in favour of physiognomy, to induce us to
disregard the most plausible objections." — That there are, I am
MADE TO PHYSIOGNOMY. 7/)
as much convinced as I am of my own existence ; and every
unprejudiced reader will be the same, who shall read this work
through, if he only possess so much discernment and knowledge
as not to deny that eyes are given us to see ; although there are
innumerable eyes in the world that look and do not see.
It may happen that learned men, of a certain description,
will endeavour to perplex me by argument. They, for example,
may cite the female butterfly of Reamur, and the large winged
ant, in order to prove how much we may be mistaken, with re-
spect to final causes, in the products of nature. — They may as-
sert, "wings, undoubtedly, appear to be given for the purpose of
flight, yet these insects never fly; therefore wings are not given
for that purpose. — And by a parity of reasoning, since there
are wise men who, probably, do not see, eyes are not given
for the purpose of sight." — To such objections I shall make no
reply, for never, in my whole life, have I been able to answer a
sophism. I appeal only to common sense. I view a certain
number of men, who all have the gift of sight when they open
their eyes, and there is hght, and who do not see when their
eyes are shut. As this certain number are not select, but
taken promiscuously, among millions of existing men, it is the
highest possible degree of probability that all men, whose for-
mation is similar, that have lived, do live, or shall live, being
alike provided with those organs we call eyes, must see. This,
at least, has been the mode of arguing and concluding, among
all nations, and in all ages. In the same degree as this mode
of reasoning is convincing, when applied to other subjects, so is
it when applied to physiognomy, and is equally applicable ; and
if untrue in physiognomy, it is equally untrue in every other
instance.
I am therefore of opinion that the defender of physiognomy
may rest the truth of the science on this proposition, " That it
is universally confessed that, among ten, twenty, or thirty
men, indiscriminately selected, there as certainly exists a phy-
siognomonical expression, or demonstrable correspondence of
internal power and sensation, with external form and figure,
as' that, among the like number of men, in the like manner
selected, they have eyes and can see" Having proved this,
76 OP THE GENERAL OBJECTIONS
he has as sufficiently proved the universality and truth of
physiognomy as the universality of sight by the aid of eyes,
having shown that ten, twenty, or thirty men, by the aid
of eyes, are all capable of seeing. From a part I draw a
conclusion to the whole ; whether those I have seen or those
I have not.
But it will be answered, though this may be proved of
certain features, does it, therefore, foUow that it may be proved
of all ! — I am persuaded it may : if I am wrong, show me my
error.
Having remarked that men who have eyes and ears see and
hear, and being convinced that eyes were given to man for the
purpose of sight, and ears for that of hearing ; being unable
longer to doubt that eyes and ears have their destined office,
I think I draw no improper conclusion, when I suppose that
every other sense, and member of this same human body,
which so wonderfully form a v/hole, has each a particular pur-
pose : although it should happen that I am unable to discover
what the particular purposes of so many senses, members, and
integuments may be. Thus do I reason, also, concerning the
signification of the countenance of man, the formation of his
body, and the disposition of his members.
If it can be proved that any two or three features have a
certain determinate signification, as determinate as that the
eye is the expression of the countenance, am I not warranted
in concluding, according to the mode of reasoning above cited,
universally acknowledged to be just, that those features are
also significant, with the signification of which I am unac-
quainted ! — I think myself able to prove, to every person of
the commonest understanding, that all men, without excep-
tion, at least, under certain circumstances, and in some par-
ticular feature, may, indeed, have more than one feature of a
certain determinate signification ; as surely as I can render it
comprehensible to the simplest person, that certain determinate
members of the human body are to answer certain determinate
purposes.
Twenty or thirty men, taken promiscuously, when they
laugh, or weep, will, in the expression of their joy or grief.
MADE TO PHYSrOGNOMY. 77
possess something in common with, or similar to, each other.
Certain features will bear a greater resemblance to each other
among them than they otherwise do, when not in the like sjth-
pathetic state of mind.
To me it appears evident that, since it is universally acknow-
ledged that excessive joy and grief have their peculiar expres-
sions, and that the expression of each is as different as the
different passions of joy and grief, it must, therefore, be al-
lowed, that the state of rest, the medium between joy and
grief, will likewise have its peculiar expression ; or, in other
words, that the muscles which surround the eyes and lips, will
indubitably be found to be in a different state.
If this be granted concerning the state of the mind in joy,
grief, or tranquillity ; why should not the same be true con-
cerning its state when under the influence of pride, humility,
patience, magnanimity, and other affections I
According to certain laws, the stone flies upward, when
thrown with sufficient force ; by other laws, equally certain, it
afterwards falls to the earth ; and will it not remain unmoved
according to laws equally fixed if suffered to be at rest 2 Joy,
according to certain laws, is expressed in one manner, grief in
another, and tranquillity in a third. Wherefore then shall
not anger, gentleness, pride, humility, and other passions, be
subject to certain laws ; that is, to certain fixed laws
All things in nature are or are not subjected to certain laws.
There is a cause for all things, or there is not. All things are
cause and effect, or are not. Ought we not hence to derive
one of the first axioms of philosophy ? And if this be granted,
how immediately is physiognomy relieved from all objections,
even from those which we know not how to answer ; that is,
as soon as it shall be granted there are certain characteristic
features in all men, as characteristic as the eyes are to the
countenance !
But, it will be said, how different are the expressions of joy
and grief, of the thoughtful and the thoughtless ! And hoW
may these expressions be reduced to rule 1
How different from each other are the eyes of men, and of
all creatures ; the eye of an eagle from the eye of a mole, an
78 VARIOUS OBJECJipKS TO
elephant, and a fly ! and yet we believe of all who have no
evident signs of infirmity, or death, that they see.
The feet and ears are as various as are the eyes ; yet we
universally conclude of them all, that they were given us for
the purposes of hearing and walking.
These varieties by no means prevent our believing that the
eyes, ears, and feet, are the expressions, the organs of seeing,
hearing, and walldng ; and why should we not draw the same
conclusions concerning all features and hneaments of the
human body ? The expressions of similar dispositions of mind
cannot have greater variety than have the eyes, ears and feet,
of all beings that see, hear, and walk ; yet may we as easily
observe and determine what they have in common, as we can
observe and determine what the eyes, ears, and feet, which are
so various, among all beings that see, hear, and walk, have also
in common. This well considered, how many objections will
be answered, or become insignificant !
VARIOUS OBJECTIONS TO PHYSIOGNOMY ANSWERED
OBJECTION I.
" It is said, we find persons who, from youth to old age,
without sickness, without debauchery, have continually a pale,
death-like aspect; who, nevertheless, enjoy an uninterrupted
and confirmed state of health."
ANSWER.
These are uncommon cases. A thousand men will shew
their state of health by the complexion and roundness of the
countenance, to one in whom these appearances will differ from
the truth. — I suspect that these uncommon cases are the
effects of impressions, made on the mother, during her state
of pregnancy. — Such cases may be considered as exceptions,
the accidental causes of which may, perhaps, not be difficult
to discover.
To me it seems we have as little just cause hence to draw
conclusions against the science of physiognomy, as we have
PHYSIOGNOMY ANSWERED. 79
against the proportion of the human body, because there are
dwarfs, giants, and monstrous births.
OBJECTION II.
A friend writes me word, " He is acquainted with a man of
prodigious strength, who, the hands excepted, has every ap-
pearance of weakness, and would be supposed weak by all to
whom he should be unknown."
ANSWER,
I could wish to see this man. I much doubt whether his
strength be only expressed in his hands, or, if it were, still it
is expressed in the hands; and were no exterior signs of
strength to be found, still he must be considered as an excep-
tion, an example unexampled. But, as I have said, I much
doubt the fact. I have never yet seen a strong man whoso
strength was not discoverable in various parts.
OBJECTION III.
" We perceive the signs of bravery and heroism in the coun-
tenances of men who are, notwithstanding, the first to run
away."
The less the man is, the greater he wishes to appear.
But what are these signs of heroism ? Do they resemble
those found in the Farnesian Hercules ? — Of this 1 doubt : let
them be dravm, let them be produced ; the physiognomist will
probably say, at the second, if not at the first, glance. Quanta
species! Sickness, accident, melancholy, likewise, deprive the
bravest men of courage. This contradiction, however, ought
to be apparent to the physiognomist.
OBJECTION IV.
" We find persons whose exterior appearance denotes ex-
treme pride, ^nd who, in their actions, never betray the least
symptom of pride."
80 VARIOUS OBJECTIONS TO
ANSWER.
A man may be proud and affect humility.
Education and habit may give an appearance of pride,
although the heart be humble ; but this humility of heart will
shine through an appearance of pride, as sunbeams through
transparent clouds. It is true that this apparently proud man
would have more humility, had he less of the appearance of
pride.
OBJECTION V.
" We see mechanics who, with incredible ingenuity, produce
the most curious works of art, and bring them to the greatest
perfection ; yet who, in their hands and bodies, resemble the
rudest peasants, and wood-cutters ; while the hands of fine
ladies are totally incapable of such minute and curious per-
formances."
I should desire these rude and delicate frames to be brought
together and compared. — Most naturalists describe the ele-
phant as gross and stupid in appearance ; and, according to
this apparent stupidity, or rather according to that stupidity
which they ascribe to him, wonder at his address. Let the
elephant vind the tender lamb be placed side by side, and the
superiority of address will be visible from the formation and
flexibility of the body, without further trial.
Ingenuity and address do not so much depend upon the mass
as upon the nature, mobility, internal sensation, nerves, con-
struction, and suppleness of the body and its parts.
Delicacy is not power, power is not minuteness. Apelles
would have drawn better with charcoal than many miniature
painters with the finest pencil. The tools of a mechanic may
be rude, and his mind the very reverse. Genius will work
better with a clumsy hand, than stupidity with a hand the
most pliable. I will indeed allow your objection to be we\i
founded if nothing of the character of an artist is discoverable
in his countenance ; but, before you come to a decision, it is
necessary you should be acquainted with the various marks that
PUySIOGNOMY ANSWERED. 81
denote mechanical geniiJs, in the face. Have you considered
the lustre, the acuteness, the penetration of his eyes; his
rapid, his decisive, his firm aspect ; the projecting bones of his
brow, his arched forehead, the suppleness, the delicacy, or the
massiness of his limbs ? Have you well considered these par-
ticulars ? " I could not see it in him," is easily said. More
consideration is requisite to discover the character of the man.
OBJECTION VI.
" There are persons of peculiar penetration who have very
unmeaning countenances."
ANSWER.
The assertion requires proof.
For my own part, after many hundred mistakes, I have con-
tinually found the fault was in my want of proper observation.
— At first, for example, I looked for the tokens of any parti-
cular quality too much in one place ; I sought and found it
not, although I knew the person possessed extraordinary
powers. I have been long before I could discover the seat of
character. I was deceived, sometimes by seeking too partially,
at others, too generally. To this I was particularly liable in
examining those who had only distinguished themselves in
some particular pursuit ; and, in other respects, appeared to
be persons of very common abilities, men whose powers were
all concentrated to a point, to the examination of one sub-
ject ; or men whose powers were very indeterminate : I ex-
press myself improperly, powers which had never been excited,
brought into action. Many years ago, I was acquainted with
a great mathematician, the astonishment of Europe ; who, at
the first sight, and even long after, appeared to have a very
common countenance. I drew a good likeness of him, which
obliged me to pay a more minute attention, and found a par-
ticular trait which was very marking and decisive. A similar
trait to this I, many years afterwards, discovered in another
person, who, though widely different, was also a man of great
talents; and who, this trait excepted, had an unmeaning
countenance, which seemed to prove the science of physiog-
82 VARIOUS OBJECTIONS TO PHYSIOGNOMY ANSWERED.
nomy all erroneous. Never since this time have I discovered
that particular trait in any man who did not possess some
peculiar merit, however simple his appearance might be.
This proves how true and false, at once, the objection may
be which states, " Such a person appears to be a weak man,
yet has great powers of mind."
I have been written to concerning D'Alembert, whose coun-
tenance, contrary to all physiognomonical science, was one of
the most common. To this I can make no answer, unless I
had seen D'Alembert. This much is certain, that his profile,
by Cochin, which yet must be very inferior to the original, not
to mention other less obvious traits, has a forehead, and in
part a nose, which were never seen in the countenance of any
person of moderate, not to say mean, abilities.
OBJECTION VII.
" We find very siUy people with very expressive counte-
nances.'"
ANSWER,
Who does not daily make this remark ? My only answer,
which I have repeatedly given, and which I think perfectly
satisfactory, is, that the endowments of nature may be excel-
lent ; and yet, by want of use, or abuse, may be destroyed.
Power is there, but it is power misapplied. The fire wasted
in the pursuit of pleasure can no longer be applied to the dis-
covery and display of truth— it is fire without light, fire that
ineffectually burns.
I have the happiness to be acquainted with some of the
greatest men in Germany and Switzerland ; and I can, upon
my honour assert, that, of aU the men of genius with whom I
am acquainted, there is not one who does not express the de-
gree of invention and powers of mind he possesses in the
features of his countenance, and particularly in the form of his
head.
I shall only select the following names from an innumerable
multitude. Charles XII., Louis XIV., Turenne, SuUy, Po-
lignac, Montesquieu, Voltaire, Diderot. — Newton, Clarke,
Maupertuis, Pope, Locke, Swift, Lessing, Bodmer, Sultzer,
PL. Ill-: III
A 3rvi^-y.
DISSIMULATION. FALSEHOOD AND SINCEUITY. 83
Haller. I believe the character of greatness in these heads is
visible in every well-drawn outline. I could produce numerous
specimens, among which an experienced eye would scarcely ever
be mistaken.
Will not the annexed head, Plate VII., though not one of
the most determinate, impress every spectator with ideas of
deep thought, and a spirit of inquiry ?
ON DISSIMULATION. FALSEHOOD AND SINCERITY.
One of the most usual, and strong objections against phy-
siognomy, is the universality, and excess., of dissimulation
among mankind. If we are. able to answer' this objection
satisfactorily, v/e shall have gained a very material point.
Men, it is said, make all possible, efforts; to appear wiser,
better, and honester than, in reality^ they arip. They affect the
behaviour, the voice, the appearance of the most rigorous
virtue. This is a part of their art ; thay study to deceive, till
they are able to remove every doubt, destroy every suspicion
that is entertained of their worth. Men of .the most acute
penetration, the greatest understanding, ^ and even those who
have applied themselves to the study of physiognomy, daily are,
and shall continue to be deceived by their arts.— How, there-
fore, may physiognomy ever be reduced to a true and certain
science! ...^ -i,'
I believe I have stated thil objection in its full force. I
will answer.
And, first, I am ready to grant it is possible to carry the
art of dissimulation to an astonishing degree of excess ; and
by this art; the most discerning man may be amazingly de-
ceived.
But although I most freely grant all this, I still hold this
objection against the certainty of physiognomy, to be infinitely
less important than some generally believe, and would induce
others to believe it to be ; and this, principally, for the two
following reasons.
I. There are many features, or parts of the body, which are
84 ON DISSIMULATION,
not susceptible of dissimulation ; and, indeed, such features as
are indubitable marks of internal character. j .
II. Because dissimulation itself has its certain and sensible
tokens, though they may not be definable by lines or words.
I repeat, there are many features or parts of the body which
are not susceptiWe of dissimulation ; and, indeed, such features
as are indubitable marks of internal character.
What man, for example, however subtle, would be able to
alter the conformation of his bones, according to his pleasure !
Can any man give himself, instead of a flat, a bold and arched
forehead ; or a sharp indented forehead, when nature has given
him one arched and round ?
Who can change the colour and position of his eye-brows !
Can any man bestow on himself thick, bushy eye-brows, when
they are either thin, or wholly deficient of hair ?
Can any fashion the flat and short, into the well-proportioned
and beautiful nose ?
Who can make his thick lips thin, or his thin lips thick ?
Who can change a round into a pointed, or a pointed into a
round chin ?
Who can alter the colour of his eyes, or give them, at his
pleasure, more or less lustre ?
Where is the art, where the dissimulation, that can make
the blue eye brown, the grey one black, or if it be flat, give it
rotundity 1
The same may be said of the ears, their form, position, dis-
tance from the nose, height and depth ; also, of the skull,
which forms a large portion of the outline of the head ; and of
the complexion, the skin, the muscles, and the pulse. These
are each decisive marks of the temper and character of man,
as we shall show in its place, or which, however, we easily may
show, and as the least accurate observer must daily perceive.
How is it possible for dissimulation to exist in these, or
many other of the external parts of the human body !
Let the choleric, or the melancholy man labour how he may
to appear phlegmatic, or sanguine, he will never be able to
alter his blood, complexion, nerves, and muscles, or their dif-.
ferent symptoms and marks.
FALSEHOOD AND SINCERITY. 85
An irascible man, however mild, however calm or placid a
mien he may assume, cannot alter the colour and lowering of
his eye, the nature and curling of his hair, or the situation of
his teeth.
The weak man, however industrious, will be unable to alter
the profile of his countenance, the lips excepted, and these but
little. He never can make it resenlble the profile of the great
and wise man. He may vreinkle his forehead, or make it smooth,
but the bones will continue the same. The fool is equally in-
capable of concealing the tokens of folly, as the truly wise man,
the man of real genius, is of depriving himself of the marks of his
clear, his piercing, his superior mind ; for could he do so, he
would no longer be a fool.
It will be still objected, that enough remains of the exterior
parts of man, which are capable of dissimulation in a very high
degree. Granted; but we cannot grant that it is impossible
to detect such dissimulation.
No; for, in the second place, I believe that there is no kind of
dissimulation but has its certain and sensible tokens, though
they may not be definable by lines or words.
The fault is not in the object but in the observer, that these
tokens remain unremarked.
I acknowledge that, to discern these tokens, an acute and
practised eye is necessary; as, to define them, is, likewise, an
excellent physiognomonical genius, I will, further, willingly
grant they cannot always be expressed by words or lines, and
drawing, yet they are discernible. Have eifort, constraint, ab-
sence, and dissipation, those companions of deceit, no deter-
minate, at least perceptible, marks?
" Un homme dissiraul6 veut-il masquer ses sentimens ? II
se passe dans son interieur un combat entre le vrai, qu'il veut
cacher, et h fa,ux qu'il voudroit presenter. Ce combat jette la
confusion dans le mouvement de ressorts. Le coeur, dont la
fonction est d'exciter les esprits, les pousse ou ils doivent na-
turellement aller. La vplonte s'y oppose, elle les bride, les
tient prissonniers, elle s'efforce d'en detourner le cours et les
efiets, pour donner le change. Mais il s'en echappe beaucoup,
et les fuyards vont porter des nouvelles certaines de ce qui
Sa ON DISSIMULATION^
se passe dans le secret du conseil. " Ainsi plus on veut cacher
le vrai, plus le trouble augmente, et mieux on se decouvre."*
I am of Dom Pemetty's opinion.
While I was writing this, a disagreeable incident happened,
which is applicable to the subject. I know not whether it
be for or against me.— Two young persons, about four and
twenty, more than once, came before me, and most solemnly
declared two tales, directly opposite, were each of them true?
The one affirmed, " Thou art the father of my child." The
other, "I never had any knowledge of thee." They both must
be convinced that one of these assertions was true, the other
false. The one must have uttered a known truth, the other a
known lie ; and thus the vilest slanderer, and the most injured
and innocent person, both stood in my presence — "Conse-
quently one of them must be able to dissemble, most surpris-
ingly, and the vilest falsehood may assume the garb of the
most injured innocence." — Yes, it is a melancholy truth. —
Yet, on consideration, not so — for this is the privilege of the
freedom of human nature, the perfection and honour of which
alike consists in its infinite capability of perfection and imper-
fection ; for imperfection to the actual free and moral perfec-
tion of man is its greatest worth. Therefore it is melancholy,
not that vile falsehood can, but that it does, assume the ap-
pearance of suffering innocence.
" Well, but it has this power, and what has the physiogno-
mist to answer ?"
He answers thus :
Two persons are before me, one of whom puts no constraint
upon himself, to appear other than he is, while the second is
* If a deceitful man wishes to conceal his thoughts, he is subjected to
an internal struggle between the true, which would he hidden, and the
false which endeavours to appear. This struggle puts the spirits into
commotion, which are impelled by the heart, according to its function, to
their natural state. The will opposes this impulse, restrains them, keeps
them prisoners, and endeavours to turn the tide, and its effects, purposely
to deceive. Many, however, wiU escape, and the fugitives bring certain
intelligence of what is secretly passing in the council of the mind. Thus
the greater the endeavour is to conceal truth, the more are the thoughts
troubled, and discovered.
FALSEHOOD AND SINCERITY. 87
under the greatest constraint, and must, also, take the great-
est care that this constraint sliall not appear. The guilty is
probably more daring than the innocent, but certainly the
voice of innocence has greater energy, persuasive and convinc-
ing powers ; the look of innocence is surely more serene and
bright than that of the guilty liar.
I beheld this look, with mingled pity and anger, for inno-
cence, and against guilt ; this indescribable look that so ex-
■pressively said, "And darest thou deny itf — I beheld, on the
contrary, a clouded and insolent look ; I heaird the rude, the
loud, voice of presumption, but which, yet, like the look, was
unconvincing, hollow, that with forced tones answered, " Yes,
I dare." I viewed the manner of standing, the motion of the
hands, particularly the undecided step, and, at the moment
when I awfully described the solemnity of an oath, at that mo-
ment, I saw in the motion of the lips, the downcast look, the
manner of standing of the one party; and the open, astonished,
firm, penetrating, warm, calm, look, that silently exclaimed,
Lord Jesus, and wilt thou swear !
Wilt thou believe me, reader 2 — rl saw, I heard, I felt,
guilt and innocence. — Villainy, with a depressed, accursed, — I
know not what.
The author of the memorial in beha.lf of the widow Gamm,
truly says,
" Cette chaleur, si Ton pouvoit ainsi parler, est le pouls de
rinnocence. L'innocence a des accents inimitables, et malheur
au juge qui ne sgait point les entendre."*
"Quoi des sourcils ! (says another Frenchman, I believe Mon-
tagne) Quoi des epq,ules ! II n'est mouvement qui ne parle, et
un langage intelligible, sans discipline, et un langage public. "-f-
I must not quit this important point without saying some-
thing further.
* This warmth may be called the pulse of innocence. The accents of
innocence are inimitable ; and woe be to the judge to whom they are un-
intelligible.
t What eyebrows! what shoulders! There is not a motion but
what speaks an intelligible language, without instruction, a universal
language.
88 ON DISSIMULATION,
As a general remark, it may be affirmed, honesty (or sin-
cerity) is the simplest, yet the most inexplicable of things ; a
word of the most extensive sense, and the most confined.
The perfectly virtuous may be called a God, and the
totally vicious, a Demon ; but man is neither God nor De-
mon ; he is man ; no man is perfectly virtuous, nor wholly
vicious.
Speaking of falsehood and sincerity, we must not consider
these qualities in their purest and abstract state, but must .
call him sincere who is not conscious of any false and selfislj
views, which he endeavours to conceal; and him false who
actually endeavours to appear better than he is, in order to
procure some advantage to the detriment of others. This
premised, I have still what follows to add concerning deceit
and sincerity, as they relate to physiognomy.
Few men have been more deceived by hypocrites than my-
self; and if any person has just cause to state dissunulation
as an objection against physiognomy, that cause have I. Yet
the more I have been imposed upon, by an assumed mien of
honesty, the more pertinaciously do I maintain the certainty
of the science. Nothing can be more natural than that the
weakest understanding must at length become cautious by suf-
fering, and wise by experience.
My station obliged me to exert my whole powers in disco-
vering the tokens of sincerity and falsehood ; or, in other
words, to analyze those obscure sensations, those true, untaught
principles, which are felt at the first glance of a suspicious
person, and firmly to retain those principles, contrary to the
inclinations of a good heart, and a sound understanding, by
which they would willingly have been rejected. My attempts
to efface such impressions from my mind have always been to
my own injury.
The hypocrite is never less capable of dissimulation than at
the first moment, while he remains perfectly himself, and before
his powers of deception are excited. I maintain that nothing
is, at the same time, more difficult, or more easy, than the de-
tection of hypocrisy : nothing more difficult, so long as the
hypocrite imagines he is observed ; nothing more easy when
FALSEHOOD AND SINCEKITY. 8!)
he supposes the contrary. Nothing, on the contrary, can be
more easy to note and discover than honesty, since it is conti-
nually in its natural state, and is never under any constraint
to maintain an appearance of the thing that it is not.
It must, nevertheless, be carefully remembered that timidity
and bashfulness may raise, even in an honest countenance,
the blush of insincerity. Timidity, and not dissimulation,
may often make the person who relates an event, or intrusts
another with the secret, unable to look him in the face. Yet
the downcast look of the speaker continually makes a bad im-
pression. We very rarely can refrain from suspecting insin-
cerity ; still it is weakness, timidity, imperfection : timidity
which may easily become insincerity ; for who are more dis-
posed to be insincere than the timid ? How quickly do they
concede and accommodate themselves to the manners of all with
whom they converse ! How strong, how continual, to them,
is the tempting spirit of conciliation ! What was the false-
hood, the perfidy of Peter, but timidity ? The most inferior
of men have strength, power, and instinct, sufficient to plan
and practise deceit, and ensnare others, imder an a,npearance
of fidelity and friendship. Yet numberless men, not the rude
and insensible, but the noble, the feeling, the finely organized,
and, indeed, those the most, are in continual danger of acting
with insincerity. They find themselves exposed, as it were,
to a torrent of deceit, and may easily acquire the habit of not
opposing the multitudes with whom they converse. They are
often betrayed into flattery, contrary to the dictates of the
heart, and often are driven to join the ridicule that is levelled
at the virtuous, nay, possibly a friend. — Yet, no. Ridicule a
friend ! — v.-hoever is capable of this possesses neither a feeling,
a true, nor a noble mind. Ridicule and friendship are as
distant as Lucifer and a cherub. Yet, alas ! how easily may
an honest, but weak and timid mind, be drawn to ridicule
what is in itself honourable, sacred, and godlike ! — How easily
too may those who have not the power of denial make pro-
mises to two different persons, one of which they have only the
power to keep ; or assent to two contradictory propositions !
Oh timidity ! Oh, unworthy fear ! You have made more
90 ON FREEDOM AND NECESSITY.
dissemblers and hypocrites than, even, ever were formed by
selfishness and vice.
I must again repeat, fear and insincerity, vice, timidity, and
falsehood, are frequently similar in their expressions. Who-
ever is grown grey in dissimulation, in whom timidity and
pride are united, and are become habitual artifice, will never
find it possible to diffuse around him the open, heartfelt emo-
tions of sincerity. He may deceive ; but in what manner ?
Men will say — "It is impossible he should express himself
thus, and be insincere." But no man will say, " My heart is
in unison with his," or " How much was my heart at ease in
his company ! How much more expressive was his behaviour,
of faith and benevolence, than were his words !" Men will
never speak thus, or, should they so speak, it will not be from
conviction, from an internal, intuitive, sensation of indubitable
truth. Glance of the eye ! Smile of the mouth ! Ye will
betray the man, even though ye should not be remarked ;
though men should blindly determine not to see, to harden
their hearts, forget, and remain in ignorance.
We must, at last, after repeated deception, reject reasoning,
and be guided by the deep sensation, the disregarded con-
viction, we first feel of insincerity.
Where, ah ! where, then, is clear, pure, open, unconstrained,
disinterested sincerity? Where is the unreserved, unsus-
picious, unchangeable, aspect of infantine simplicity and
truth ?
How great is the treasure of him who has made the dis-
covery ! — Sell all that thou hast, and buy the field that con-
tains this pearl.
ON FREEDQM AND NECESSITY.
Mt opinion, on this profound and important question, is,
that man is as free as che bird in the cage ; he has a deter-
minate space for action and sensation, beyond which he cannot
pass. As each man has a particular circumference of body, so
has he likewise a certain sphere of action. One of the unpar-
ON FHEEDOM AND NECESSITY. 01
donable sins of Helvetius, against reason and experience, is,
that he has assigned to education the sole power of forming,
or deforming the mind. I doubt if any philosopher of the
presert century has imposed any doctrine upon the world so
insulting to common sense. Can it be denied that certain
minds, certain fran.es, are by nature capable, or incapable, of
certain sensations, talents, and actions ?
To force a man to think and feel like me, is equal to forcing
him to have my exact forehead and nose ; or to impart unto
the eagle the slowness of the snail, and to the snail the swift-
ness of the eagle : yet this is the philosophy of our modern
wits.
Each individual can but what he can, is but what he is. He
may arrive at, but cannot exceed, a certain degree of perfec-
tion, which scourging, even to death itself, cannot make him
surpass. Each man must give his own standard. We must
determine what his powers are, and not imagine what the
powers of another might effect in a similar situation.
When, oh ! men and brethren, children of the common
father, when will you begin to judge each other justly ? When
will you cease to require, to force, from the man of sensibility
the abstraction of the cold and phlegmatic ; or from the cold
and phlegmatic the enthusiasm of the m9,n of sensibility?
When cease to require nectarines from an apple tree, or figs
from the vine ? Man is man, nor can wishes make him angel ;
and each, man is an individual self, with as little ability to
become another self as to become an angel. So far as my own
sphere extends, I am free ; within that circle can act. I, to
whom one talent only has been intrusted, cannot act like him
who has two. My talent, however, may be well or ill-employed.
A certain quantity of power is bestowed on me, which I may
use, and, by use, increase, by want of use, diminish, and, by
misuse, totally lose. But I never can perform, with this quan-
tity of power, what might be performed with a double portion,
equally well applied. Industry may pi9,ke pear approaches to
ingenuity, and ingenuity to genius, wanting exercise, or op-
portunity of unfolding itself; or, rather,, may seem to make
these approaches : but never can industry supply total absence
92 ON FKEKDOM AND NECESSITY.
of genius or ingenuity. Each must remain what he is, nor can
he extend or enlarge himself beyond a certain size : each man
is a sovereign prince ; but, whether small or great, only in his
own principality. This he may cultivate so as to produce
fruits equal to one twice as large, that shall be left half un-
cultivated. But, though he cannot extend his principality, yet,
having cultivated it well, the lord of his neighbour's may add
that as a gift. Such being freedom and necessity, it ought to
render each man humble, yet ardent ; modest, yet active. —
Hitherto and no farther — truth, physiognomy, and the voice
of God, proclaim g,lobd to njan, He what thou art, and become
what thou canst.
The character and countenance of every man may suifer
astonishing changes ; yet, only to a certain extent. Each has
room sufficient : the least has a large and good field, which he
may cultivate, according to the soil ; but he can only sow such
seed as he has, nor can he cultivate any other field than that
on which he is stationed. In the mansion of God, there are,
to his glory, vessels of wood, of silver, and of gold. All are
serviceable, all profitable, all capable of divine uses, all the
instruments of God : but the wood continues wood, the silver
silver, the gold gold. Though the golden should remain
unused, still they are gold, The wooden may be made more
serviceable than the golden, but they continue wood. No ad-
dition, no constraint, no effort of the mind, can give to man
another nature. Let each be what he is, so will he be suf-
ficiently good, for man himself, and God. — The violin cannot
have the sound of the flute, nor the trumpet of the drum.
But the violin, differently strung, difierently fingered, and dif-
ferently bowed, may produce an infinite variety of sounds,
though not the sound of the flute. Equally inc9,pable is the
drum to produce the sound of the teumpet, although the drum
be capable of infinite variety.
I cannot write well with a bad pen, but with a good one, I
can write both well and ill. Being foolish I cannot speak
wisely, but I may speak foolishly although wise. He who
nothing possesses, nothing can give ; but, having, he may give,
or he may refrain. Though, with a thousand florins, I caonot
ri.A n:\jii.
^^^^,
^ l\ ^ . .-4 -^^
ADDITIONS. 93
bny all I wish, yet am I at liberty to choose, among numb6i?less
things, 'any whose value does not exceed that sum. In like
manner, am I free, and not free. The sum of my powers, the
degree of my activity, or inactivity, depend on my internal and
extferiial organization, on incidents, incitements, men, books,
^ good -or ill-fortune, and the use I may make of the quantity of
power r possess. " It is not of him that willeth, or of him
that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy. Nor may the
vessel say to the potter, why hast thou made me thus ? But
the righteous lord reapeth not where he hath not sowed, nor
gathereth where he hath not strewed. Yet -with justice, he
demandeth five other talents, from him who received five^ ■ two
froni him who received two, and one from hini who received
one.
ADDITIONS.
,^ It would be an absurd and ridiculous pretension to define
only the outlines of the annexed heads, with all their significar
tions. Yet, something, after repeated observation, may, with
certainty, be said, and referred to further proof.
PLATE VIII.
Fig. 1. — A great and active mind, with high retentive fa-
culties. The sketch and form of the eye leads us to suppose
any object quickly seized by, and firmly fixed in, the memory.
-Eig. 2. Will not so easily adopt an opinion as the former — is only
susceptible of feehng in the moments of devotion. — Nothing
insidious, or deceitful, can be discovered in this countenance.
Fig. 3. — A countenance, which, to eternity, never would
busy itself with abstractions, calculations, and classifications :
wholly addicted to sensual delights ; capable of all the arts,
and errors, of love ; of the highest sensations ; and of the
lowest and most licentious. Probability is that it would con-
tain itself in the medium between these two extremes.
Fig. 4. — A countenance pleased with fidelity — a lover of
order ; but difficult to renounce an opinion once imbibed .
04 ADDITIONS.
Fig. 5. — Will probably remain in a state of mediocrity: its
prudence might become modest timidity ; but never can it
attain thtj active sphere of the hero.
Fig. 6. — Rich in ingenuity — quick of perception ; but not
deep in research — susceptible of moral and sensitive ideas in
which it delights. — Scarcely capable of punctual activity, and
love of accuracy.
Fig. 7. — A countenance of rapid action and povfers, ever
busied in philosophy and poetry, and notwithstanding the cold-
ness of the mouth, seldom capable of calm consideration.
Fig. 8. — Characteristic of economy. Totally incapable of
poetical sensibihty. — Pursues its plans with cool firmness,
without once busying itself with objects beyond its sphere.
Fig. 9. — The countenance of a painter— enthusiastic — capar
ble of working with quickness, softness, and intelligence ; but
not of the minute labour of accuracy.
Fig. 10. — Never will man with such a profile become eminent
in any art or science. — He will unite the love of order and
industry, truth and goodness, and, in a state of mediocrity,
will become a most useful and intelligent man.
Fig. 1] . — The countenance of a hero — iictive — alikeremoved
from hasty rashness and cold delay. — Born to govern. — May
be cruel, but scarcely can remain unnoticed.
Fig. 12.— Neitlier hero, mathematician, nor statesman: a
rhymer, perhaps, or a wrangling lawyer.
Fig. 13. — This profile denotes open honesty, or belies its
conformation.— May attain an eminent degree of good taste,
but never can be great, when bodily strength and constitu-
tional courage are requisite.
Fig. 14. — A great countenance. — Will establish, and ex-
tend, his power in those regions into which he once has pene-
trated. — Heroism in every feature, from the forehead to the
beard. — A mouth of amazing cool fortitude — ^ready to oppress
others, difScult to be oppressed himself.
05
ON THE HARMONY BETWEEN MORAL AND
CORPOREAL BEAUTY
It has been asked, is there any visible, demonstrable, har-
mony and coincidence, between moral and corporeal beauty,
and between moral and corpoKeal deformity ? Or, if there be
any real dissonance and disagreement, between moral beauty
and corporeal deformity, and between moral deformity and
corporeal beauty ?
Millions of nature's works will exclaim—" How may this be
denied !"
Yet is it necessary this should be demonstrated. May the
reader hear, and patiently consider, what I have to say ! The
time, I hope, will come, nay, I might almost promise the time
shall come ; a better time, when every child shall laugh that 1
was obliged to demonstrate this. Laugh, perhaps, at the age ;
or, which is more noble, weep, to remember that there ever
were men who required such demonstration.
Let those who are willing listen to the voice of truth. I
can but stammer some of the documents she has taught me.
Truth, whether or not received as such, still is truth. It is
not my declaration that makes that true which is true ; but,
it being true, I will speak.
It being granted that man is the work of supreme wisdom,
is it not infinitely more conformable to wisdom that a harmony
between physical and moral beauty rather should than should
not exist ; and that the Author of all moral perfection should
testify his high good pleasure by the conformity between the
mental and bodily faculties? Let us only suppose the re-
verse. — -Who could believe in infinite wisdom and goodness,
and support the thought that, not by accident, or only under
certain circumstances, but that it was a general law of nature,
that where the highest moral perfection was, there all physical
imperfection should be ; that a man the most virtuous should
be the most deformed; and that he who was the most exalted,
most noble, most magnanimous, and greatest benefactor to,
should be the most deformed of, his species ; that God should
.06 ON THE HARMONY BETWEEN
deny all beauty to virtue, lest it might be thereby recom-
mended ; that what was most loved by the Deity, and was in
itself most lovely, should be stamped with the seal of divine
disapprobation ? — Oh brother, friend of virtue, feUow adorer
of supreme wisdom, which is pure goodness, who could sup-
port this, I had almost said, blasphemous supposition ?
Let us imagine a like dissonance between the capacity for
receiving knowledge and the conformation of the body. Can
it be thought agreeable to eternal wisdom to impress the marks
of stupidity on that body in which understanding i-esides, and
is displayed ? This, surely, never can be supposed. Yet how
infinitely less depends upon this than upon the former kind of
harmony ! How infinitely more incumbent was it on the Au-
thor of nature to display and perfect the moral, rather than
the intellectual, part of man !
Again, who will suppose it consonant to divine wisdom to
give the form and appearance of the most strong to the weakest
body, and of the most weak lo the stronge-st ! (I speak not
of accidents and exceptions, but of the general course and
constitution of nature.) Yet would such dissimulation, such
unworthy juggling, be wisdom and worth, compared with that
conduct which should place an evident disagreement, through-
out all nature, between physical aiid moral beauty ?
I am, notwithstanding, willing to own that such metaphy-
sical reasoning, however conclusive it may appear, to certain
persons, is not always incontrovertible. Facts, the actual
state of things in nature, must decide ; consequently observa-
tion and experiment are requisite.
First, I maintain, what the most inaccurate observer of
the human countenance can no longer deny, that each state
of the human mind, and of internal sensation, has its pe-
culiar expression in the face. Dissimilar passions have not
similar expressions, neither have similar passions dissimilar
expressions.
I maintain, what also no moralist wiU deny, that certain
states of mind, certain sensations, and inclinations, are ardent,
beautiful, noble, sublime, and that they inspire all feeling
hearts with pleasure, love and joy ; that others, on the con-
MORAL AND COHPOUEAL BEAUTY. 97
trary, are totally opposite, or repugnant ; disgusting, hateful,
and terrifying.
I maintain, what is manifest to every eye, however inex-
perienced, that there is beauty, or deformity, in the features
of the face. (At present, I shall confine myself to this.) In
vain are the singular objections that have been made against
the actual beauty of the body, and its ever true and consistent
principles. — Place a handsome and an ugly man beside each
other, and no person will be found to exclaim of the firsts
How ugly ! or of the last. How handsome ! Let the hand-
some man disfigure his countenance by grimace ; and people
of all nations, beholding him, would pronounce him ugly and
disgusting ; and, recovering his form, would declare he had a
handsome, intelligent, a beautiful countenance.
The result of this will be, that,
The passions of the mind produce their accordant eficcts on
the countenance.
There are such things as moral beauty and deformity ; dis-
positions, qualities, which attract good and ill-will.
There are such things as corporeal beauty and deformity,
in the features of the human countenance.
We have now to consider whether the expressions of moral
beauty are corporeally beautiful, and the expressions of cor-
poreal deformity corporeally deformed ; or, reversing the pro-
position, whether the expression of moral beauty is deformity,
and of moral deformity beauty! — Or are the expressions of
moral qualities neither beautiful nor deformed ? Or, are they,
without sufficient cause, sometimes beautiful, sometimes, de-
formed I
Let us, for example, take the instantaneous expressions of
the mind, when it is impassioned. Let the countenances of
the good and the wicked, the sincere and the deceitful man be
taken, and shown to a child, a peasant, a connoisseur, or to
any indifferent person. Let a drawing be made at the moment
when a noble, and a mean action are performing. Then let it
be asked which of the countenances are beautiful ; which most
beautiful ; which most deformed ; and it will be seen that,
Child, peasant, and connoisseur, will agree in pronouncing the
98 ON THE HARMONY BETWEEN
same countenance most beautiful, and the same most de-
formed.
I next inquire, of what passions, what states of mind, are
those most deformed and most beautiful countenances the
expressions ? From this inquiry it will be found that the
most deformed expressions also betoken the most deformed
states of mind.
The same is true of all the innumerable shades and combi-
nations of morally beautiful, and morally deformed, states of
mind, and their expressions.
Thus far there appears to be little difficulty in the inquiry ;
and the next step is as little difficult.
Each frequently-repeated change, form, and state of coun-
tenance, impresses, at length, a durable trait on the soft and
flexible parts of the face. The stronger the change, and the
oftener it is repeated, the stronger, deeper, and more indelible
is the trait. We shall hereafter show that the like impression
is made in early youth, even on the bony parts.
An agreeable change, by constant repetition, makes an
impression on, and adds a feature of durable beauty to, the
countenance.
A disagreeable change, by constant repetition, makes an
impression on, and adds a feature of durable deformity to, the
countenance.
A number of such beautiful changes, when combined, if not
counteracted, impart beauty to the face ; and many deformed
changes impart deformity.
We have before observed that morally beautiful states of
the mind impart beautiful impressions.
Therefore the same changes, incessantly repeated, stamp
durable expressions of beauty on the countenance.
Morally deformed states of mind have deformed expres-
sions; consequently, if incessantly repeated, they stamp durable
features of deformity.
They are, in proportion, stronger, and deeper, the oftener,
and the stronger, the expressions peculiar to the supposed state
of mind take place.
There is no state of mind which is expressed by a single
MORAL AND CORPOREAL BEAUTY. 99
pai-t of the countenance, exclusively. Should there be passions
which are expressed more forcibly by this, than by that fea-
ture of the face ; which effect strong changes in one part, and
are scarcely perceptible in another ; still we shall find, from
attentive observation, that, in all the passions of the mind,
there is no yielding feature of the countenance which remains
unchanged. Whatever is true of the effects of one expression
upon any feature, or part of the countenance, is true of alL
In deformed states of mind, they all change to greater defor-
mity, and in beautiful states, to superior beauty. The whole
countenance, when impassioned, is a harmonized, combined
expression of the present state of the mind.
Consequently, frequent repetitions of the same state of mind,
impress, upon every part of the countenance, durable traits of
deformity or beauty.
Often repeated states of the mind give liability. Habits are
derived from propensities, and generate passions.
The foregoing propositions, combined, will give the following
theorem :
The beauty and deformity of the countenance is in a just
and determinate proportion to the moral beauty and deformity
of the man.
The morally best, the most beautiful.
The morally worst, the most deformed.
The torrent of objection now bursts all bounds ; I hear its
roar ; it rushes on, rapid and fearful in its course, against my
supposed poor hut, in thie building of which. I had taken such
delight. — Treat me not, good people, with so much contempt ;
have patience : mine is not a hut raised on a quicksand, but a
firm palace, founded on a rock, at the foot of which the torrent,
dreadful as it is, shall furiously foam in vain. The confidence
of my speech will, I hope, be pardoned. Confidence is not
pride; prove my error, and I will become more humble.
An objector loudly exclaims, "This doctrine is in contradic-
tion to daily experience. How numerous are the deformed
virtuous, and the beautiful vicious !" — Beautiful vicious !
Vice vnth a fair face ! Beauty of complexion, or beauty of
100 ON THE HARMONY BETWEEN
feature ; which is meant ? — But I will not anticipate. Hear
my answer.
I. In the first place, this objection is inapplicable. I only
affirm virtue beautifies, vice deforms. I do not maintain that
virtue is the sole cause of human beauty, or vice of deformity ;
such doctrine would be absurd. Who can pretend there are not
other more immediate causes of the beauty or deformity of
the countenance ? Who would dare, who would wish to deny
that, not only the faculties of the mind, but the original con-
formation in the mother's womb, and also education, which
depends not on ourselves, rank, sickness, accident, occupation,
and climate, are so many immediate causes of beauty and
deformity among men ? My proposition is perfectly analogous
to the axiom, that virtue promotes worldly welfare, and that
vice destroys it. Can it be any real objection to this truth,
though there are many thousands of the virtuous wretched,
and of the wicked prosperous? Is any thing more meant,
than that, though there are, indeed, many other inevitable and
co-operating causes of happiness and unhappiness, as well as
virtue and vice, yet morality is among others one of the most
.active and essential ? The same reasoning wiU apply to the
proposition concerning physiognomy. Virtue beautifies, vice
deforms; but these are not the sole causes of beauty and
deformity.
II. With respect to experience, if we examine accurately,
we shall find that much is to be deducted from this part of
the objection. I am inclined to believe that experience will be
found favourable to our doctrine. Is it not frequently said,
" I allow she is a handsome woman, but she does not please
me ; or, even, she is disagreeable to me V On the contrary,
we say, " He is an ordinary man ; notwithstanding which, I
liked his countenance at the first sight : I felt myself pre-
judiced in his favour." On inquiry, it will be found that the
beauty we could not love, and the deformity with which we
were pleased, incited our antipathy and sympathy by the
beautiful or amiable qualities of the mind which had been im-
pressed upon the countenance.
Since the pleasing traits of an ugly face, and the displeasing
MORAL AND CORPOHEAL BEAUTY. 101
of a beautiful, have been so prominent as to act more power-
fully upon us than the others all combined, is not this a proof
that these lines of beauty are more excellent, more expressive,
more noble, than those which are more corporeal ?
Let it not be said that such sympathies and antipathies are
raised by frequent conversation, and after the beauties or defor-
mities of the mind are discovered. How often are they incited
at the first view ! Neither let it be affirmed that this happens
in consequence of conclusions drawn concerning the disposition
of the person ; it having previously been experienced that, in
similar instances, those who had like features, notwithstanding
their ugliness, were good ; and others, with certain disagree-
able traits, notwithstanding their beauty, were bad people.
This is frequently the case, it is true ; but this does not in-
validate our proposition. They are equally consistent. Chil-
dren will convince us how little forcible this objection is, who,
previous to experience, will look steadfastly, and with pleasure,
on a countenance which is the reverse of corporeally beautiful,
but which is impressed with the traits of a beautiful mind ; and
will, when the contrary is the case, so often begin violently to cry.
III. In the third place, it is necessary properly to define the
words.
Were my proposition stated thus, without all qualification — ■
"That virtue is beautiful, and vice corporeally deformed," — ■
nearly as many objections would be raised as there are various
opinions concerning the words virtue and vice, moral good and
evil. The courtier, who pronounces every man virtuous who
is not flagrantly vicious ; the weak bigot, who declares all is
evil that is not good according to his model ; the officer, who
esteems the man of honour, and the soldier obedient to dis-
cipline, to be the most virtuous ; the vulgar, who account all
virtuous that are not guilty of the grossest sins ; the peasant,
who remains virtuous as long as no warrant brings him before
the justice of the peace ; the narrow moralist, who holds
nothing to be good that is not acquired by rigid abstinencej
with whom virtue is absolute stoicism ; each, and all of these,
according to their several conceptions, will rise up and witness
against a proposition so indeterminate, so replete with paradox.
102 ON THE HARMONY BETWEEN
The objector, however, ought to have remarked that I here
understand the words virtue and vice in their most extensive
signification ; or that 1 am, properly, speaking only in general
of moral beauty and deformity. I class with the former, all
that is noble, good, benevolent, or tending to effect good pur-
poses, which can have place in the mind ; and, in the latter, all
that is ignoble, evil, mean, and inimical.
It may happen that one possessed of many excellent quali-
ties, and who long has practised virtue, at length may yield to
the force of passion, and, in so great a degree, that all the
world, according to the general sense of the word, may justly
pronoimce him vicious. Will it therefore be said, " There is
vicious beauty ! Where is your harmony between virtue and
beauty T"
Has it not been already premised that such a person had_
excellent dispositions, and much good, and that he had long
encouraged and established the goodness of his character 1
He therefore had, and still has, goodness worthy of emula-
tion ; and the more habitual it is to him, the deeper root the
first virtuous impressions took, the more conspicuous and fii-m
are the traits of beauty imprinted upon his countenance. The
roots and stem still are visible, though some alien branch may
-have been ingrafted. The soil and its qualities are apparent,
notwithstanding that tares have been sown among the wheat.
Is it not, therefore, easy to conceive that the countenance
may continue fair, although the man has yielded to vice I This
but confirms the truth of our proposition.
Indeed, an eye but little experienced will discover that such
a countenance was still more beautiful, previous to the domi-
nion of this passion ; and that it is, at present, in part de-
formed. How much less pleasing, alas ! how much more
harsh, and disagreeable, than formerly, though it may not
have arrived at that state which Gellert describes !
His morn of youth how wondrous fair !
How beauteous was his bloom !
But ah ! he stray'd from virtue's paths.
And pangs his Ufe consume.
MORAL AND CORPOBEAL BEAUTY. 103
Ilis wasted form, his livid eye,
His haggard aspect pale.
Of many a hidden, hideous vice.
Recount a fearful tale.
I have known handsome, and good young men, who, in a
few years, by debauchery and excess, have been totally altered.
They were still generally termed handsome, and so, indeed,
they were, but, good God ! how different was their present
from their former beauty !
Men, on the contrary, may be found with ignoble disposi-
tions and passions, the empire of which has been confirmed by
education. They may, for years, have been subject to these
passions, till they have become truly ugly. Such persons may,
at length, combat their vices, with their whole force, and
sometimes, obtain no small victory. They, from the best of
motives, may restrain, and even eradicate, the most glaring ;
and, in the strictest sense of the word, may be called truly
virtuous. There is a moral judge, whose decision is infinitely
superior to ours, that will behold, in such persons, greater
virtues than in any who are by nature inclined to goodness.
These, however, will be brought as examples of the deformed
virtuous. So be it ; such deformities, nevertheless, are only
faithful expressions of the vices which long were predominant,
and the multitude of which do but enhance the worth of pre-
sent virtue. How much greater was the deformity of the
features before the power of this virtue was felt, and how
much more beautiful have they since become ! Socrates, who
is brought as an example by all physiognomists, and their op-
ponents, may here most properly be cited ; but to him a sepa-
rate fragment must be dedicated.
Let it be further considered — there are a multitude of
minute, mean, disgusting thoughts, manners, incivilities,
whims, excesses, degrading attachments, obscenities, follies,
obliquities of the heart, which, singly, or collectively, men are
far from denominating vice ; yet a number of such, combined,
may greatly debase and deform the man. While he remains
honest in his dealings, without any notorious vice, and adds to
this something of the economy of the citizen, he will be called
104 ON THE HARMONY BETWEEN
a good fellow, an excellent fellow, against whom no man has
any thing to allege ; and, certainly, there are great numbers
of such good, ugly, fellows.— I hope I have been sufficiently
explicit on this subject.
IV. In the fourth place, it is necessary to take a more dis-
tant view of the harmony between moral and corporeal beauty,
■by which, not only many objections will vanish, but the sub-
ject on which we treat will, also, become more interesting. ^
We must not only consider the immediate effects of morality
and immorality, on the beauty of the human countenance, but
their immediate consequences, as they relate to the general
corporeal beauty or deformity of the human race. I walk in
the multitude, I contemplate the vulgar ; I go through vil-
lages, small towns, and great, and every where, among all
ranks, I behold deformity ; I view the lamentable, the dread-
ful ravages of destruction.
I constantly find that the vulgar, collectively, whether of
nation, town, or village, are the most distorted.
1 am afflicted at the sight of ugliness, so universal ; and my
wounded soul, my offended eyes, wander till they find some
man, but moderately handsome, on whom they are fixed;
although he by no means is the perfection of human beauty.
That beauteous image of happiness haunts me, which man
might possess, but from which man, alas ! is so remote.
How often do I meditate on this, the most beauteous of all
races, the noblest in its face, and ask, why is it thus sunken
in deformity, in the abyss of abominations 1
The more I reflect, the more I find that men individually,
as well as the whole race, contribute to produce this degrada-
tion ; and, consequently, that man has the power of becoming
Vmore beautiful, more perfect : the more too am I convinced
that virtue and vice, with all their shades, and in their most
remote consequences, are beauty and deformity. This is
doubly proved.
And first, a relaxation of morality increases in a thousand
instances, great and small, a degradation and ignoble debase-
ment, while moral powers, energy, activity, and the ardour of
imitation, produce the contrary, and generate every disposition
MORAL AND COKPOREAL BEAUTY. 105
to the beautiful and the good ; and, consequently, to their
expressions.
Degradation is gradual, and manifests itself in innumerable
distortions, proportionate to the predominant vices, if not
counteracted by some more just and ardent incitement to
perfection.
Wherever, on the contrary, virtue and philanthropy reign,
without adverting to the immediate pleasing effects, how
beautiful, how prominent is the picture they imprint, how
attractive are the added traits ! The real philanthropist is
active, mild, gentle ; not timid, indolent, stupid, abject, caprir
cious ; not — in short, I might enumerate a hundred negative
and positive quaUties, which beautify the human countenance,
the earlier this philanthropy, this supreme of virtues, this soul
of every virtue, is awakened in the mind, even though but
feebly awakened, by which it may produce its various beautiful
effects.
What still is more conclusive, respecting this question, and
removes most objections, is that — virtue and vice, morahty and
immorality, in their most extensive signification, have numerous
immediate consequences in rendering the forms of children
ugly or beautiful. How justly, hence, may we answer such
questions as — " Wherefore has this child, which, from infancy,
has been educated with so much care, and is itself so tractable
and virtuous, this child so much better than its father who
died while it was an infant, still so much of the disgusting and
the hateful in its countenance ?" — The question ought to be,
why has it retained so much, why inherited so much from
its parent ?
I know no error more gross or palpable than the following,
which has been mentioned by such great men. " Every thing
in man depends on education, instruction, and example ; and
nothing on organization, and the original formation of the
body ; for these latter are alike in all."
Helvetius has, in his great enthusiasm for the improvement
of the human race, that is to say, of education, carried this
doctrine so far, contrary to the most evident experience, that,
while I read, I scarcely could believe my eyes.
106 ON THE HARMONY BETWEEN
I shall have various opportunities, in the following fragments,
to speak of propositions that relate to this subject.
At present thus much only.
It will be as difficult to find any two children that perfectly
resemble each other, as it would be to find any two men.
Let a child be taken from a mother, who is not void of sen-
sibility ; let her but attentively observe it, for two minutes
after its birth, and let it be placed among a hundred other
children of the same tovra or district ; no matter though the
inhabitants bear the most general resemblance to each other ;
she still would, certainly, soon select it from among the hundred.
It is likewise a fact universally acknowledged, that new born
children, as well as those of riper growth, greatly resemble
their father or mother, or sometimes both, as well in the for-
mation of the body as in particular features.
It is a fact, equally well known, that we observe, in the tem-
per, especially of the youngest children, a striking similarity
to the temper of the father, or of the mother, or sometimes
both.
How often do we find in the son the character, constitution,
and most of the moral qualities of the father ! In how many a
daughter does the character of the mother revive! Or the
character of the mother in the son, and of the father in the
daughter !
As a proof that character is not the result of education, we
need but remark, that brothers and sisters, who have received
the same education, are very unlike in character. Helvetius
himself, who allows so little to the primary qualities and dis-
positions of children, by the very rules and arts he teaches, to
cherish or counteract the temper, as it unfolds itself, grants,
in reality, that moral propensities are absolutely diiferent in
every individual child.
And how much soever such original properties of constitu-
tion and temper, such moral propensities, may be modified by
education ; how possible soever it may be to render the worst
valuable ; yet is it indubitable that some dispositions, although
they all,, in a certain sense, are good, are generally confessed
by men to be originally good in gradation ; that some among
MORAL AND CORPOREAL BliAUTY. 107
them, under equal circumstances, are more pliable, docile, and
capable of improvement ; and that others are more obstinate,
and less manageable. The guilt or innocence of the child is
not here called in question. No rational man will maintain
that a child, even with the worst dispositions, has, therefore,
any moral turpitude.
We have proved, as was incumbent on us,
That features and forms are inherited ;
That moral propensities are inherited.
The above propositions having been demonstrated, who will
any longer doubt that a harmony exists between the inherited
features and forms, and the inherited moral propensities ?
This being ascertained, and since the deformities of the
mind, and consequently of the body, and of the body, conse-
quently of the mind, may be inherited, we have obtained the
most conclusive reason why so many men, born handsome, de-
generate, whose deformity is yet by no means of an extreme
degree; and, in like manner, why so many others, born ugly,
improve by becoming virtuous ; and who, yet, are by no means
so handsome as some who are far less good.
We cannot but remark how eternally prominent is the
harmony between moral and corporeal beauty, and how it is
established by the foregoing proofs.
Let us suppose men of the most beautiful and noblest form,
and that they, and their children, become morally degenerate ;
abandon themselves to their passions, and progressively, be-
come more and more vicious. How will these men, or their
countenances at least, be, from generation to generation, de-
formed ! What bloated, depressed, turgid, stupid, disfigured,
and haggard features ! What variety of more or less gross,
vulgar, caricatures, will rise in succession, from father to son !
Deformity will increase. How many of the children, at first, the
perfect images of their degenerate parents, will, by education,
become, themselves, still more degenerate, will display fewer
tokens of goodness, and more early symptoms of vice ! — How
deep in degeneracy, how distant, is man, from that perfect
beauty with which, by thy fatherly mercy, oh God ! he was
ht first endowed ! How is thy image deformed by sin, and
108 ON THE HABMONT( BETWEEN
changed even to fiend-like ugliness ; ugliness, which afflicted
benevolence scarcely dares contemplate ! Licentiousness, sen-
suality, gluttony, avarice, debauchery, malignity, passions,
vices, what deformities do you present to my sight ! How
have you disfigured my brother !
Let us add to this an inseparable truth, which is that, not
only the flexible and the solid parts of the countenance, but,
also, the whole system, bones, and muscles, figure, complexion,
voice, gait, and smell, every member corresponding with the
countenance, may be vitiated and deformed, or rendered more
beautiful. Let us remark this, and preserve, by drawing,
what we remark ; or rather let us have recourse to living ex-
amples. Let us compare the inhabitants of a house of correc-
tion, where we find the stupid, the indolent, and the drunken,
with some other society, in a more improved state. However
imperfect it may be, yet will the diiference be visible. Let
them be compared to a society of enthusiasts, or a club of me-
chanics, and how lively will the testimony be in favour of our
proposition ! Nay more, it will awaken feelings for ourselves
and others, which, however afflicting they may be, still, will
be salutary ; and this is the very end I wish to obtain.
But man is not made only to fall ; he is again capable of
rising to an eminence higher than that from which he fell.
Take the children of the most ordinary persons, let them be
the exact image of their parents ; let them be removed, and
educated in some public, well-regulated seminary ; their pro-
gress from deformity towards beauty will be visible. Arrived
at the state of puberty, let them be placed in circumstances
that shall not render the practice of virtue difficult, and under
which they shall have no temptations to vice ; let them inter-
marry; let an active impulse to improvement be supposed; let
only a certain portion of care and industry, though not of the
highest kind, be employed in the education of their descen-
dants, and let these descendants continue to intermarry; what
a handsome race of men will the fifth or sixth generation pro-
duce, if no extraordinary accidents intervene ! Handsome,
not only in the features of the countenance, but in the solid
parts of the head, in the whole man, accompanied by content-
MORAL AND CORPOREAI^ BEAUTY. 10£t
ment, and other virtues. Industry, temperance, cleanliness,
are produced ; and, with these, if some care be taken in edu-
cation, regular muscles, also a good complexion, a well-formed
feody, suppleness, activity ; while the deformities which are the
consequence of infirmities, and a feeble constitution, will be
prevented; since these good properties, these virtues, are
always attended by health, and a free growth of the limbs. —
In short., there is no part of corporeal beauty, no feature of
man, which virtue and vice, in the most extensive sense, may
not influence.
What benevolent heart but must rejoice at the recollec-
tion ! How great is the power which God has given to beauty
over the heart of man ! What are thy feelings, oh man of
benevolent sensibility, when thou beholdest the sublime works
of antiquity, when thou viewest the divine creations of men
and angels, by Raphael, Guide, Mengs, West, Fuseli ! Speak,
what are thy emotions, how ardent thy desires for the im-
proving, the beautifying, the ennobling of our fallen nature ?
Promoters, lovers, and inventors of the finest arts, and the
sublimest sciences ; ye wealthy, who merit gratitude for the
rewards you bestow on the works of genius, and ye, sons of
genius, by whom these works are produced, attend to this
truth. — You are in search of perfection. For this you deserve
our thanks. Would you render man the most perfect, the
most beautiful of objects, deformed ? — Oh no ! — Prevent him
not, therefore, from being good. Be not indifferent whether
he be good or evil ; but employ those divine powers with
which you are endowed, to render him good, so shall you ren-
der him beautiful.
The harmony of virtue and beauty, of vice and deformity, is
an extensive, a vast, a noble field for the exercise of your art.
Think not you can make man more beautiful without making ~
him better. The moment you would improve his body and
neglect his mind, the moment you would form his taste at the |
expense of his virtue, you contribute to render him vicious, j
Your efforts will then be in vain. He will become deformed,''
and his son, and his son's son, shall continue to degenerate.
Your labours then how erroneous !
110 ADDITIONS
When, oh artists ! will you cease to seek reputation by toys
and tricks, or to what purpose? It is as though he who
would build a palace should employ his carver, or his gilder,
as an architect.
Do you hope to form the taste by licentious imagery?
You hope in vain ; it is as though you would teach your sons
continence by reading them obscene lectures, the tendency of
which is but to inflame the passions..
Of this enough.
I shall conclude with a text of sublime consolation to my-
self and all others who have good reason to be dissatisfied with
many parts of the form and physiognomy of themselves, which,
perhaps, are incapably of improvement, and who yet strive
after the perfecting of the inward' man.
" It is sown in dishonour, it is raised in glory."
ADDITIONS.
Numerous traits of beauty and deformity are too minute to
be traced by the pencil or the engraver ; and whenever they
can be made visible upon paper, they must, then, be strong,
indubitable, and convincing.
' PLATE IX.
Nature forms no such countenance ; at least, no such
mouth;--^— Vice only can thus disfigure. — Rooted unbounded
avarice. — Thus does brutal insensibility deform God''s own
image. — Enormous depravity has destroyed all the beauty, all
the resemblance. Can any benevolent, wise, or virtuous man,
look, or walk, thus ? — Where is the man, however unobser-
vant, daring enough to maintajn the aflSrmative ?
PLATE X.
A degree still more debased — a, countenance, by vice ren-
dered fiend-like, abhorrent to nature, in which falaciousness is
sunken almost below brutality. — Every spark of sensibility,
humanity, nature, is extinguished. — Distortion, deformity in
i'j..irK IV
>,-..,//..•,,>//<
ri^iTK J'
,y-rr^M .'JmA,
PLJiEn.
ADDITIONS. 1^11
excess — and though sensuality should not appear wMh this
particular kind of ugliness,. yet, may it not incur ugliness still
more dreadful ? — Whoever has frequently viewed the human
countenance in houses of correction and jails; will often scarcely
believe his eyes, will shudder' at' the stigmas with which vice
brands her slaves.
PLATE XI.
Here are traits of drunkenness combined with thoughtless
stupidity. Who can look without disgust? Would these
wretches have been what they are, had they not, by vice,
erased nature's marks !— ^Can perversion be more apparent than
in the middle profile ! Fig.' 3 — the last stage 9f brutal corrup-
tion, apparent most in the under part of the male. Fig. 6 ; and
in the forehead, and nose of the female, Fig. 5, (the ears not
included). Can any supposition be more absurd than that such
a countenance should be the abode of a wise, a virtuous, 'or
an exalted mind ?
We turn with horror from nature thus debased, and re-
joice that millions of people afford not any countenance so
abominable.
PLATE XIL
What heart can sympathize with any one of these counte-
nances ! Who wiU expect from any one of them perpetual
virtue, pure love, noble benevolence, or the high efforts of
genius ?
1. Immoveable icy coldness, without a spark of sensibility.
2. Rudeness, phlegm ; false, feeble, dull, ridicule.
3. The contempt of a vulgar girl.
4. Sensual desire, without individual love.
5. Ogling of a low, crafty sensualist.
6. Chagrin of contempt returned.
7. Perfect levity.
8. Moral relaxation.
9. Malignity, ignorance, brutal lust.
10. 11. Anger — contempt — the rage of an offended villain,
without great strength or courage. How much of the noble,
112 ADDITIONS.
the prudent, the forbearing, the experience and worth of age,
ia visible in the posture and countenance of 12. And of the
unfeeling, the rude, the contemptuous, in I?. Yet is the
mouth too -good' for this posture, and this aspect.
PLATE XIII. ~'
Fig. 1, 2.— The spirit of .projecting — ^want of wisdom —
brutal boasting wrinkle the countenance of l.i 2, Is the
imagie of blood-thirsty cruelty ; unfeeling, without a trait
of humanity. ' - -^.
Fig. 3. — Virtue, noble simplicity, goodness, open confi-
dence, are not discoverable here. Unbounded avarice, un-
feeling wickedness, knavery unequalled, in -the, eye and mouth,
eradicate every pleasing iiripression. li is possible this coun-
tenance might not have looked much better previous to its
degradation, but vice only could produce the full effect. we
behold.
PLATE XIV.
Fig. 1. — The visage of a satyr, distorted thus by sensuality.
— Careless insensibility. — An excess of stupid brutality.
Fig. 2. — A countenance not reniarkable for the beauty,
but the harmony of its features — ^pleasing, because calm, dis-
passionate, benevolent, noble, wise. Let this countenance be
compared with Fig. 4,. 5, 6, and then, reader, be you friend
or opponent, say whether you can doubt that vice distorts,
deforms; or that virtue bestows that which charms, delights,
and beautifies, if not the form, at least the features of the
countenance. For, where is the virtue, which, as virtue, does
not charm, and where the vice, which, as vice, does not deform ?
Grant me this, and Lrequire no more.
Fig. 3. — Thus does a continual repetition of extreme con-
tempt distort the mouth ; thus infix itself with traits not to
be effaced ; thus deform a countenance which, not stigmatized
by this vice, would probably have been amiable.
Fig. 4 to 7. — Let us ascend a few steps, and relieve our-
selves with expressions of nobler passions. Who will not sur-
vey these four heads with mtemaJ sympathetic pleasure!
I'l.ATi: Mil
SOCRATES. 113
And wherefore? Because moral beauty, in action, is im-
pressed upon each of these countenances. Thus only can
the noble mind languish, weep, love ; thus only can be agitated,
as in 4, 5, 6, 7.
SOCRATES.
The well-known judgment of the physiognomist Zopyrus,
concerning Socrates —
" That he was -stupid, brutal, sensual, and addicted to
drunkenness — "
Has been repeatedly cited in modern times against physi-
ognomy; but this science has been as repeatedly supported
by the answer of Socrates, to his disciples, who ridiculed the
judgment of the physiognomist.
" By nature I am addicted to all these vices, arid they were
only restrained, and vanquished, by the continual practice of
virtue.'"
Permit me to add something on this subject.
However insignificant, in itself, this anecdote may be, or
thougli, like anecdotes in general, it should be but half true,
yet is it pregnant with physiognomonical discussion.
Let us suppose it to be literal truth ; what will be the con-
sequence ?
It will not militate against physiognomy, whatever it may do
against the knowledge of Zopyrus.
Suppose that Zopyrus was mistaken, that he overlooked all
traits of excellence, and dwelt upon the rude, the massy. How
will this injure the science of physiognomy ?
That physiognomist who, from his zeal for the science,
should affirm, " I never err," would be like the physician who,
from the ardour of his zeal for the honour of his art, should
affirm, " My patients never die."
Whoever, because of one, or one hundred, errors of the
physiognomist, should reject the science of physiognomy, would
be like the man who, because there are ignorant physicians, or
because that the patients of the greatest physicians die, should
reject all physical aid.
But to come nearer to the point.
I
1 14 SOCRATES.
All antiquity, certainly, attests that Socrates had a very
ordinary countenance.
AU the busts of Socrates, however different from each other,
still have a similarity of ugliness. To this v?e may add what
was said by Alcibiades, who, certainly, was well acquaiated
with Socrates, as he also was with what was beautiful, and
what defoi-med ; " That he resembled the figure of Silenus."*
I understand the remark of Alcibiades to refer to the general
form of the countenance. We perceive there can be no doubt,
of the ugliness of Socrates.
Yet was Socrates, from all that we know concerning him,
the wisest; best, most incomparable of men. Be this all granted ;
we shall ever carefully avoid denying what is highly probable
in order to establish our own propositions.
" Consequently, the wisest and best of men had the counte-
nance of the most stupid and debauched ; or, rather, had a
gross, rude, forbidding, ugly, countenance." How may this
objection be answered ?
I. The deformity of Socrates was, in the opinion of most
who maintain the circumstance, a thing so remarkable, so
extraordinary, that it was universally considered as a contra-
diction, an anomaly of nature. — ^Accurately examined, is this
for or against physiognomy ? — A direct contrary relation, be-
tween the external and internal, was expected. This want of
conformity, this dissonance, produced general astonishment. —
Let any one determine what was the origin of their general
expectation and astonishment.
II. Were this dissonance as great as it has been asserted
to be, it will only form an exception to a general rule, which
wiU be as little conclusive against physiognomy, as a child
born with twelve fingers would against the truth, that men
have five fingers on each hand. We must allow there
are unusual exceptions, mistakes of nature, errors of the
press, if I may so speak, which as little destroy the legibility,
and the explicability of the human countenance, as ten or
* It is difficult, says Winckelmann, for human nature to be more
debased than in the figure of Silenus.
SOCRATES. 115
twenty errors, in a large volume, would render the whole unin-
telligible.
III. This, however, is capable of a very different answer ;
and the best reply that I can make is, that — " Characters,
pregnant with strong and contending powers, generally contain
in the great mass, the prominent features of the face, some-
what of severe, violent, and perplexed ; consequently are very
different from what the Grecian artists, and men of taste, name
beauty. While the signification, the expression, of such pro-
minent features are not studied and understood, such counte-
nances will offend the eye that searches only for beauty." The
countenance of Socrates is manifestly of this kind.
IV. In the study of physiognomy, it cannot be too much
inculcated, nor too often repeated, by a writer on the science,
that dispositions, and their development, talents, powers, their
application and use, the solid and flexible parts, the prominent
and fugitive traits must be most accurately distinguished, if
we would form an accurate judgment on the human counte-
nance. This appears to have been neglected in the judgment
formed on the countenance of Socrates. Zopyrus, Alcibiades,
Aristotle, most of the physiognomists with whom I am ac-
quainted, all its opponents, nay, its very defenders, have, in
this, been deficient.
To the unphysiognomonical eye, the form of the countenance
of Socrates might appear distorted, although the mutable fear
tures might have displayed celestial beauty.
A" man of the best native inclinations may degenerate, and
another with the worst may become good. The noblest talents
may rust in indolence, and the most moderate, by industry, be
astonishingly improved. If the first dispositions were excellent,
it will require an acute observer to read their neglect in the
countenance, especially if unimpassioned. In like manner, if
they were unfavourable, it will require the most experienced
eye to read their improvement. Original dispositions are most
discoverable in the form of the solid and prominent parts ; and
their development, and application, in the flexible features. —
Whoever is accustomed to attend only to the flexible traits,
and their motion, and has not, as often happens, devoted him-
116 BOCRATES.
self to the study of the solid parts, and permanent traits, he,
like Zopyrus, in the countenance of Socrates, will neither dis-
cover what is excellent, and characteristic of the disposition,
nor the improvement of what may have been apparently bad ;
consequently his judgment must be erroneous. It is incumbent
upon me to make this evident. Be it supposed that the great
propensities of Socrates were prominent in his countenance,
though it were rude and unpleasing, and that these permanent
features were not studied, but that the gross, rude, massy
traits met the acute eye of the Greek, who was in search of
beauty alone. Be it further supposed, as each observer will
remark, that the improvement of all, which may be denomi-
nated bad in the disposition, is only visible when the features
are in action. Nothing will then be more probable than phy-
siognomonical error, or more plausible than false conclusions
against the science.
V. I have repeatedly spoken of good and bad dispositions:
the elucidation of my subject requires that I should here ex-
])!ain myself with greater accuracy.
A man bofn with the happiest propensities or dispositions
may become bad ; or with the most unfortunate, may, after his
own manner, become good.
To speak with precision, no man has good or bad disposi-
tions ; no man is born either vicious or virtuous ; we must be
children before we are men, and children are neither born with
vice or virtue : they are innocent. Time will improve some
few to a high degree of virtue, and sink some few others to as
low a degree of vice. The multitude will find a medium : they
appear to want the power of being either virtuous or vicious in
any extraordinary degree. All, however, whom for a moment
we have considered innocent, all sin, as all die ; none may
escape sin and death. By sin I mean a propensity to sensual
gratifications, which are attended with a troubled conscience,
and the degradation of the native powers. I shall just observe
that original sin, that subject of ridicule in this our philosophic
age, is, in this sense, most demonstrable to a true philosopher,
a dispassionate observer of nature.
It is no less true, to speak philosophically, that is, according
Ut'j.iA'Sl.3
SOCRATES. 117
to experience, that there is, originally, only physical irritability
in men, however great their progress may afterwards be in vice
or virtue ; an Impulse to act, to exist, to extend the faculties ;
which impulse, considered as the spring of action, is good ; but
which has in itself neither morahty nor immorahty. If this
irritability, this power, be so formed that it is generally ad-
dicted, being surrounded by certain objects, or placed under
such and such, almost unavoidable, circumstances, to bad
thoughts and bad actions, which disturb the peace and hap-
piness of mankind ; if thsy are so formed that, in the present
state of the world and its inhabitants, they have scarcely the
power of being employed to good, they are then called immoral
propensities ; and moral, when they are, generally speaking,
the reverse.
Experience indubitably teaches us that where the power and
irritability are great, there, also, will numerous passions take
birth which will generally induce immoral thoughts and actions.
" Helvetius says, the^abuse of .pov/er (and the same may be
said of all the faculties of man) is as inseparable from power
as the effect from the cause." ■
" Qui pent tout ce qu'il veut, veiit plus que ce qu'il doit."*
Hence the sense of the affirmation that man has evil pro-
pensities, is clear. It might as well be affirmed he has the
best propensities ; since nothing more is meant than that,
with respect to certain objects, he is or is not irritable. It is
possible he may apply his proportion of power to'good, though
it is often applied to evil ; that circumstances may happen
which shall produce irritability where, it is wanting, or that he
shall remain unmoved under the strongest incitements ; con-
sequently, that either virtue itself is there, or an appearance
of virtue, which will be called virtue and strength of mind.
VI. Let us apply what has been said to an engraving of
Socrates, with which we here present our readers in Plate-
XV.
According to this head, after Reubens, which we shall first
consider, Socrates had certainly great propensities to become
» He who can do all he will, vnl\ do more than he ought.
1 18 SOCRATES.
eminent. If he resembled this copy, and 1 have no doubt but
that his appearance was better, for this may be the twentieth
copy, each of which is less accurate, the declaration oi
Zopyrus, that he was stupid, was incontrovertibly erroneous ;
nor was Socrates less mistaken when he was so ready to allow
that he was, by nature, weak. It may have been, and perhaps
was, an inevitable effect of the weight of these features, that
the perspicuity of his understanding was, sometimes, as if
enveloped by a cloud. But had Zopyrus, or any true physi-
ognomist, been accustomed accurately to remark the perma-
nent parts of the human face, he never could have said
Socrates was naturally stupid.
Whoever considers this forehead as the abode of stupidity,
has never been accustomed to observe the forehead. If Zo-
pyrus, or any other ancient, has held this arching, this pro-
minence, or these cavities, as tokens of stupidity, I can only
answer they have never been accustomed to consider or com-
pare foreheads. How great soever the effects of a good or
bad education, of fortunate or disastrous circumstances, and
whatever other influence, of better or worse, may become, a
forehead like this will ever remain the same, with respect to
its great outlines of character, and never can escape the
accurate physiognomist. In these high and roomy arches,
undoubtedly, the spirit dwells which will penetrate clouds
of diSiculties, and vanquish hosts of impediments.
The sharpness also of the eyebones, the eyebrows, the knit-
ting of the muscles between the brows, the breadth of the
nose, the depth of the eyes, the projection of the pupil under
the eyelid, how does each separately, and all combined, testify
the great natural propensities of the understanding, or rather
the powers of the understanding called forth ! — And how in-
ferior must this twentieth or thirtieth copy be, compared to
the original ! What painter, however good, is accurate in his
foreheads ? Nay, where is the shade that defines them justly ?
How much less an engi'aving from the last of a succession of
copies !
"This countenance, however, has nothing of that noble
simplicity, that cool, tranquil, artless, unassuming candour, so
SOCRATES. 1 19
much admired in the original. Something of deceit and sen-
suahty are clearly perceptible in the eye."
In the countenance before us, yes ; but a countenance of
this pregnancy and power may exert an astonishing degree of
force in the conimand of its passions, and by such exertion
may become what others are from a kind of imbecility ; and
further, I affirm the living countenance may have traits too
evident to be mistaken, which yet no art of the painter,
no stroke of the engraver, can express. This subject was
slightly mentioned in a former fragment : I here repeat, with
a greater degree of precision, —
The most disgusting vices are often concealed under the
fairest faces ; some minute trait, inexpressible by the graver,
to be seen only occasionally, when the features are" in motion,
will denote the most enormous vice. Similar deceptions are
found in a distorted, or rather in a strong and pregnant
countenance ; such as is that of Socrates. The most beau-
teous, noble, and active characteristics of wisdom and virtue,
may discover themselves only by certain indefinable traits,
visible to a spectator when the features are in action.
The greatest likenesses of such faces, which are strikingly
like because- of the strength and sharpness of the prominent
features, are, for that very reason, generally, libels on the
originals. The present portrait of Socrates, although it might
have been called the strongest of likenesses, by the multitude,
might yet have been the greatest of libels upon the man. To
exaggerate the prominent, and to omit the minute, is a libel-
lous rule alike for the reasoner or the painter. Of this, all
sophistical reasoners, all vile painters, avail themselves. In
this light I consider most of the portraits of Socrates. I
think it probable, nay certain, with respect to myself, that
the countenance would, on the first view, have produced simi-
lar effects. The sharp, compressed, and heavy parts shocked,
or bedimmed, the eye of the Greek, accustomed to consider
beauteous forms, so that the spirit of the countenance escaped
his penetration. Ther mind is invisible to those who under-
stand not the body of physiognomy, that is to say, the out-
lines and form of the solid parts.
120 SOCRATES
VII. The engraving we have in view, the rational physi-
ognomist will say, is, at least, as remarkable, as extraordinary,
as was the character of Socrates.— This may well lead us to
suspect that there is still a possibihty left of reconciUng it to
the science of physiognomy.
Much we have seen; more we have to see. — We boldly
affirm there are traits in this countenance expressive of extra-
ordinary greatness, fortitude unshaken ; however degrading
single features may be, the whole bears the stamp of manly
perseverance. — To what we have already said in its favour, we
shall further add — in the upper part of the chin is powerful
understanding ; and, in the lower, strength and courage,
which denote an almost total absence of fear. The thick,
short neck, below, is, by the general judgment of all nations,
the feature of resolution — Stiff-necked.
If we remember that, in painting such countenances, the
large traits are always rendered somewhat more large, that
the more minute lines of the countenance in action are want-
ing, and that, though the likeness is preserved, still the soul is
fled from the face, we shall not be surprised to find, in this
countenance, so much of the great, and of the little ; of the
inviting, and the forbidding.
Of this we should certainly be convinced could we contem-
plate living nature. How diiferently would these immoveable
eyes speak, could we behold them animated, inspecting the
soul of the listener, while the noble Greek was teaching honour
towards God, hope of immortality, simplicity, and purity ■ of
heart ! — Can any man of observation doubt of this ?
This, now so fatal, mouth, which may be proved not to have
been accurately drawn, as it also may that much which all
living mouths have is here wanting, do you not feel, oh ! phi-
lanthropists ! oh ! men of observation ! that it must assume a
form infinitely different in a moment so picturesque ?
Let me be permitted a short digression; suffer me to
bewail the artist and the painter.
Designers, statuaries, and painters, usually caricature na-
ture in those parts where she has somewhat caricatured her-
self. They generally are ready to seize those unfortunate
SOCEATES. 121
moments, those moments of relaxed indolence, into which the
persons who sit or stand to them sink, with such facihty, and
into which it is almost impossible to prevent sinking. These
they perpetuate, because imitation is then most easy, and
incite exclamation, or perhaps laughter, in the spectator. A
likeness is given by a portrait painter as it is by a satirist ;
we know who the picture is meant for, though it is unlike.
Satires and bad portraits ever find superficial admirers, but
for sudi the artist should not labour ; his great endeavour
should be to portray the beauty of truth, and thus secure the
admiration of those who are worthy to admire.
The lucky moment of the countenance of man, the moment
of actual existence, when the soul, with all her faculties,
rushes into the face, like the rising sun, when the features are
tinged with heavenly serenity, who seeks, who patiently awaits
this moment? By whom are such, by whom can such,
moments be depicted ?
IX. We return to Socrates.
He confessed that industry, that the exercise of his facul-
ties, had amended his chairacter. This, according to our
principles, ought to be expressed in the countenance. But
where and how ? It was not visible in the solid parts, but it
was in the flexible features, and, particularly, in their action
and illumination, which no painting, much less engraving, can
express. A strong degree of debasement must, also, still
exist in Socrates, consequently, might still be perceptible in
his countenance. Have not the wisest their moments, their
hours, of folly I the best their intervals of passion, and vice,
if not in act, at least, in thought? — Must Socrates, alone,
stand an exception ?
On summing up aU these considerations concerning the
countenance of Socrates, and this physiognomonical anecdote,
will they oppose, or support, the science of physiognomy ?
X. I am willing to grant that heavenly wisdom, sometimes,
condescends to reside in wretched earthly vessels, despicable in
the eyes of men, in vindication of its own honour, which must
not be attributed to mortal man ; and that its true beauty may
I*
122 ADDITIONS.
remain concealed, nay, be reviled by the multitude, that these
vessels may not ascribe to themselves that worth and those
qualities which are the gift 'of God.
XI. But never will I allow that actual reformation, pre-
eminent wisdom, proved fortitude, and herioc virtue, can exist,
and not be impressed upon the countepaHce,?uoJess it volun-
tarily, distorts itself, or is distorted by accident.
But what is the dead Socrates ..to us? ■ How xattch more
might we have leamt from him i.H the moment, of ;livil^ exist-
ence ! Let us rather take an araii^ted; being, and ; thence
determine who most has reason, the antagonist, or the defender
.of .physiognomy; ;__. ;-,. "^ - :> • ' #"'
Let the opponent- bring the wjseft. amd- best man he knows,
with the jjflost stupid or vicious counte|lance. The. search will
b6,,.t!eclio'us ere such a^ ftj«e be found^; and-, when fcund, we will
discuss what may, seem contradictory, .accordifl^=*o "Our prin-
ciples, and will/dwn ourselves confuted, if , i^ije not confessed
that the man proves either not so-^ood and wise as he was
supposed, or that there are manifest traits of •excellent wisdom
and goodness which had passed unobserved;*"" -j,,
ADDITIONS.
:■ ,-PI.ATES XVr. XVII. ^
THteSE-heads, all' copied after antiques, appear to be great,
or, at least, " toleraiblfe, likenesses of Socrates ; an additional
proof that, in all copies of a remarkable o'ountenance, we may
believe something, but ought not to believe too mucl>-'*
Fii-st, it may be saitl, that all the eight profilSl^ of the two
annexed plates, lia^e a striking resemblance to each other ; and
that it is imrilediately manifest they all represent the same
person. We find in all the same baldness, the same kind ol
locks, the same blunt nose, the same cavity under the forehead
and the same character of the massive in the whole.
And, to this it may be answered, that however difficult it
may be to compare eight portraits, so similar, yet, an expe-
rienced eye will perceive very essential differences.
PLAl-E XVI
PLATE Jf VII
MISCELLANEOUS PHYSIOGNOMONICAL EXEUCISE*. 123
The foreheads, in 1 , of the first, and 6, and 8, of the second
plate, are more perpendicular than the others. Among the
eight there is not one weak head ; but these three are rich in
understanding. The outline of the forehead and skull of 2, in
Plate XVI., principally betokens understanding. The mouth of
the same face, and that of 6, in Plate XVII., have the most
firmness ; 5, in Plate XVII., the most subtlety. In the out-
line of the mouth of 3, Plate XVI., is much expression of
intelligence ; but less genius than in 2, of . the same plate.
4, of Plate XVI., is less expressive. 7, of Plate XVII., com-
bined with an attentive look, requires no comment.
MISCELLANEOUS PHYSIOGNOMONICAL EXERCISES.
As experiments upon physiognomonical sensation, we shall
conclude by adding a number of countenances. We shall give
our opinions in brief, that we may not anticipate the judg-
ment of the reader.
PLATE XVIII.
Fig. 1. — Ardour and coolness combined, proving that this
countenance is energetic, persevering, unconquerable. It is
the aspect of a strong, projecting mind. The mouth is sta-
bility itself.
Fig. 2.-^The infamous Knipperdolling — villainy and deceit
in the mouth ; in the forehead and eye, courage. How much
had virtue and man to expect from the power and determina-
tion of such a countenance 1 What acts of wisdom and he-
roism ! At present all is inflexibility, coldness, and cruelty ;
an eye without love, a mouth without pity. In the mouth (a)
drawn by the side of this head, is the reverse of arrogance
and obstinacy. It is contempt without ability.
Fig. 3. — Stortzenbecher — the excess of rude, inexorable,
wanton cruelty. — The whole is no longer capable of affection,
friendship, or fidelity.
Fig. 4, 5. — Honour — faith — beneficence. — Though cer-
tainly not handsome, both these countenances speak open sen-
sibility. Whoever would deny to such a countenance his con-
124 MISCELLANEOUS
fidence and esteem, is surely little deserving of confidence and
esteem himself.
Fig. 6. — An imperfect portrait of a musical person. — The
forehead and eyebrows less profound in thought than quick of
conception.^LittIe produced, much imagined.* The inten-
sive is particularly expressed in the eye, eyehones and eye-
brows. — The mouth is the peculiar seat of the tender, the soft,
the breathing,-]- the amorous, of exquisite -musical taste.
Fig. 7. — How much soever this countenance may be in-
jured by an ill-drawn eye, the arching of the forehead -is still
more manly than efifeminate.-r-The nose I consider as a deter-
minate token of calm fortitude, and discreet, benevolent,
fidelity. The whole is good and noble.
Fig. 8.-— The eye and lips cautious, circumspect, and wise.
Much science and memory in the forehead ; genius rather
discovering than producing. This mouth must speak excel-
lently, profoundly.
Fig. 9. — This cold vacuity of look — this rigid insensibility
of the mouth, probably are given by the painter. — But the
forehead, at least in its descent ; and the nose, the nostril
excepted, are decisive tokens of an acute, capacious, mind.
The under part of the ear accords with the forehead and nose,
but not the upper. In the disfigured mouth are bitterness,
contempt, vexation.
Fig. 10. — A man of mind, -but unpolished, without reflec-
tion. I may pronounce this character rude, peculiar, with the
habits of an artist. It is an acquired countenance ; the rude-
ness of nature is very dissimilar to this.
Fig. 11. — A bad likeness of the author of these fragments,
yet not to be absolutely mis+aken. The whole aspect, espe-
cially the mouth, speaks inoffensive tranquillity, and benevo-
lence, bordering on weakness. — More understanding and less
sensibility in the nose than the author supposes himself to
possess. — Some talents for observation in the eye and eye-
brows.
Fig. 12. — Stability, intelligence, good sense, in the fore-
• Wenig extension viel intension
t Aufschlurfende — Sippinpr.
PLATE XLT.
PLATE Zr.
PflYSlOGNOMONICAL EXERCISES. 125
bead, eyes, eyebrows, and nose. The end of the nose does
not agree with the other parts. The back part of the eye
is too long, and, therefore, weaker than the fore part. The
mouth has something of wit ; but, in other respects, is bad,
and feeble.
PLATES XIX. XX.
These are not Voltaire, they are but caricatures — essays of
an artist whose intention was to express the general cha-
racter, not accurately to define the features ; for so feeble a
forehead, as is generally found in these twenty sketches, Vol-
taire, the writer of nations, the ornament of the age, could
not have. The character of the eye is similar in most of
them — ardent, piercing, but without sublimity or grace.
2, S, 7, of Plate XIX., are most expressive of invention,
power, and genius. — fi, and 8, mark the man of thought. —
1, 2, and 3, of Plate XX., least betoken keen sensibility. The
lips aU denote satire, wit, and resistless ridicule. — The nose of
8, Plate XX., has the most of truth and mind. 10, Plate XX.,
precision is wanting to the outline of the eye, power to the
eyebrows, the sting, the scourge, of satire to the forehead. The
under part of the profile, on the contrary, speaks of a flow of
wit, acute, exuberant, exalted, ironical, never deficient in reply.
PLATE XXL
Fig. 1. — Which only promises much in the eye-brows. — A
man who will meet his man. — Rather firm than acute ; more
power than taste ; more of the great than the beautiful. The
mouth is more mild and benevolent than the nose, and the
whole countenance besides, should seem to promise.
Fig. 2. — This profile of the same person discovers still more
passion, than the full face does resolution and strength of
mind ; the nostril is bad, small, childish ; the nose will suffer
no insult ; the eye here has nothing of the power of the other
features : the wrinkles by which it is surrounded greatly lower
the expression of the whole.
Jfjg. 3. — The portrait of a miniature painter, remarkable
for his highly-finished pictures. Delicacy and elegance, em-
126 MISCELLANEOUS
ployed in minute things, is perspicuous in the whole visage,
particularly in the nose. The position of the forehead speaks
more understanding than the outline itself. The under part
of the mouth is weak, and may signify either benevolence or
melancholy. Precision cannot be mistaken in the eye.
Fig. 4. — A thoughtful, inquiring head, without great sen-
sibility. Discretion rather than understanding. (Discretion
employs itself on things, actions, projects and their progress ;
understanding in the minute distinction between ideas, their
exact boundaries, and characteristics.) The outline of the
forehead, as far as it is visible, does not discover this calm,
exact distinction, and determination of ideas. The breadth
of the nose is also significant of consideration and discretion ;
and its prominent outline of activity and lively passion.
Fig. 5. — A countenance of mature consideration. A man
who hears, speaks little, but bis words are decisive. His cha-
racter is firm, but not violent. — Faithful rather than fond — a
mind more accurate and comprehensive than penetrating and
incentive — a countenance, not beautiful, but respectable to
respectable men. — Without effeminacy, without impetuosity —
thinks before he advises — will not easily be turned aside from
his purpose. The eyebrows, and the very bad ear, especially,
are highly contradictory to the precision and energy of the
whole outline, particularly of the nose and mouth.
Fig. 6. — There is something difficult to define in this profile,
which betokens refined sensibility. It has no peculiar strength
of mind, still less of body; will not soon oppress, may soon be
oppressed. Peace of mind, circumspection which may dege-
nerate into anxiety, gentle insinuating persuasion rather than
bold eloquence ; worth, rich in discretion, and active benevo-
lence, appear to be visible in this countenance, which is far
inferior to the original.
Fig. 7.— In this imperfect copy are mildness, premeditation,
peace, scrutinizing thought. To analyze with ease, calmly to
enjoy, rationally to discourse when no natural impediment in-
tervenes, I conceive to be the principal characteristics of this
countenance, which is far inferior to the original.
Fig. 8. — ^A man whose character is nearly similar, except
PIIYSIOGKOMONICAL EXEBCISES. 127
that, he jias a more antiquated airf' fcut not with less c&ndour
or intelligence, though more "timidity. The nose is decisively
signifieant of acute critical inquiry. ,■
Figx.9, lO.^fwo profiles of 'foolish men, in which that of
9, has the distinguishing marks of weakness in the lower part
of the profile, and 10, in the upper part, and in the angular
wrinkles of the sharp-closed mouth.
Fig. II.-7-A portrait which, by its noble and beautiful out-
line, fixes the, attention. Much power of mind in the form ;
but,';*uFits present appearance, that power greatly benumbed.
I thinO^-Iread pEtfortunate love,' and see the person who has
felt ita^Swer, wBich still is nourished" by the sweet memory of
the beloved object.'' •'
^I'ig.'12. — Is the absolute reverseof 11. Incapable of any
hfgh' Tfegree of improvement. Such a' forehead and such a
noseTcOmbiiied ever denote unconquerable debility and inanity.
Were this perpendicular forehead thrown but a hair's bf eadth
more back, I durst not risk a judgment so decisive against the
countenance.
PLATE XXII.
Fjg. 1. — Evidently no strength of mind. Commonness; not
stupidity, in the-^outline of the nose; want of strength in the
parts-about the eye. The lower muscles of the nose, and tfe
wrinkles of such a mouth, are almost decisive marks of
feebleness.
Tig. 2.— Nothing, in this countenance, bespeaks strength of
mitid, yet is it difiicult to determine which are the signs of
weakness. The mouth and aspect, no one will cpnsider as
thoughtful, inquiring, or powerful ; and still less the nose and
eyebrow.
Fig. 3.^-,Prompt ; quick to undertake and to complete ;
hating procrastination and irresolution ; loving industry and
order ; enterprizing ; not easily deceived ; soon excited to
great undertakings ; quick to read ; difiicult to be read. Such
is this countenance, or I am much deceived.
Fig. 4. — Benevolent serenity, a playful fancy, promptitude
to observe the ridiculous. — The form of the forehead should be
128 MISCELLAJIEOUS PHYSIOGNOMONICAL EXERCISES.
more sunken where it joins the nose. This deficiency lessens
the expression of understanding. The eye and nose, espe-
cially, betoken a fine understanding, sincerity, candour, and
sensibility.
SULTZEB.
Fig. 5. — Something ill-drawn, gross, and distorted. The
eager inquirer is still visible in the outline, and wrinkles of the
forehead; in the eyebrows and nose, especially in the lower
part of the latter ; and, more still, in the middle line of the
mouth, so tranquilly closed, and in the angle formed by the
under part of the nose and the upper lip.
Fig. 6. — Not the man of deep research, but quick of percep-
tion ; grasps his object with promptness and facility ; every-
where collects elegance and grace, and returns them to the
world with added charms. Who but sees this in the forehead,
eyebrow, and particularly in the poetical eye? — The lower
part of this countenance is less that of the profound, cautious,
inquiring philosopher, than of the man of taste.
BALTHASAB BEOKEB.
Fig. 7. — A countenance void of grace ; formed, I might say
to terrify the very devil ; bony, yet lax ; violent, wild, yet with-
out tension: such, particularly in better pictures, are the
forehead, eye-brows, eyes, nose, mouth, qhin, neck, and hair.
The eye and nose are decisive of a powerful and daring mind.
The mouth denotes facility of speech, calm and copious elo-
quence.
Fig. 8. — Although the back part of the pupil be too pointed,
or ill drawn, yet there is much of mind in the eye ; true, accu-
rate attention, analyzing reflection. The nose less marks the
projector than the man of accurate investigation. Eloquence,
and fine imagination, in the mouth.
Fig. 9. — A mixture of effeminacy and fortitude. — Levity
and perseverance — harmony — nobility of mind — simplicity —
peace. The high smooth forehead speaks the powers of me-
mory. — It delights in the clear, unperplexed, the sincere.— The
eye has no pretensions. This nose of the youthful maiden,
THE UNION BETWEEN THE KNOWLEDGE, &C. 129
united with such a mouth and chin, banishes all suspicion that
such a countenance can act falsely, or ignobly.
Fig. 10. — A rude outline of our greatest poet. — The outline
of the forehead, particularly of the eye-bones, gives the most
perfect expression of a clear understanding, as does the eleva-
tion above the eye, of elegance and originality. — This mouth
shows less sweetness, precision, and taste, than appertain to
the original. The whole bears an impression of tranquillity,
and purity of heart ! — The upper part of the countenance seems
most the seat of reason, and the under of imagination — or, in
other words, in the upper part we distinguish the man of
thought and wisdom, more than the poet ; and, in the under,
the poet more than the man of thought and wisdom.
Fig. 11. — Expressive, vigorous, poetical genius, without its
sweetness and polished elegance. Less dramatic and epic than
picturesque and bold — more pliability in the mouth than in the
forehead and chin. — Taste in the outline of the nose ; strong
passion in the chin. Strength, fidelity, in the whole. — Such
outlines indicate powerful, penetrating, ardent eyes, a fine
speaking glance. A calm analyzing train of ideas, slowly ac-
quired, will not be sought by the physiognomist in the imder
part of the profile, nor tardy sluggishness in the upper.
Fig. 12. — This profile, though imperfect, may easily be
known. It must pass without corament, or rather the com-
mentary is before the world — is in this book. Let that speak ;
I am silent.
OF THE UNION BETWEEN THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE
HEART AND PHILANTHROPY.
May these two purposes be attained by the same means ? —
Does not a knowledge of the heart destroy, or weaken philan-
thropy? — Does not our good opinion of any man diminish
when he is perfectly known I And, if so, how may philanthropy
be increased by this knowledge 2
What is here alleged is — truth — but it is partial truth. —
And how fruitful a source of error is partial truth !
K
130 THB 0NION BBTWBEN THE KNOWLEDGE
It is a certain truth that the majority of men are losers by
being accurately known. — But it is no less true, that the mar
jority of men gain as much on one side as they lose on the other
by being thus accurately known.
I do not here speak of those who can only gain by being ac-
curately known ;
I speak of those who would lose much were the knowledge of
the heart to become more accurate, and more general.
Who is so wise as never to act foolishly ? Where is the
virtue wholly unpolluted by vice; with thoughts, at all mo-
ments, simple, direct, and pure ? I dare undertake to maintain
that all men, with some very rare exceptions, lose by being
known.
But I will also prove, by the most irrefragable arguments,
that all men gain by being known ; consequently — ^that a know-
ledge of the heart is not detrimental to the love of mankind.
" But does it promote the love of mankind ?' Yes.
A knowledge of the heart teaches us alike what man is not
and cannot be ; why he is not, cannot be ; and what he is, or
can be.
Astonishment, that abundant foimtain of censoriousness,
diminishes in proportiffli as this knowledge increases.
When you would inquire why any man thinks and acts thus,
could you but suppose yourself in his station, that is, could
you assume his form, body, countenance, senses, constitution,
and feelings ; how intelligible, how natural, then, would all his
actions appear ! And would not censoriousness, so active, at
present, immediately disappear, when an accurate knowledge
of man should be obtained ? Would not compassion succeed
to condenmation, and fraternal lenity to hatred ?
But not in this alone (I here but slightly glance at my sub-
ject) would man be benefited by the promotion of physiogno-
monical knowledge : he gains another advantage.
Physiognomy discovers actual and possible perfections,
which, without its aid, must ever have remained hidden. The
more man is studied, the more power and positive goodness
win he be discovered to possess. As the experienced eye of
the painter perceives a thousand small shades and colours
OF THE HEART AND PHILANTHROPY. 131
which are unremarked by common spectators, so the physiog-
nomist views a multitude of actual or possible perfections
which escape the general eye of the despiser, the slanderer, or
even the more benevolent judge of mankind.
I speak from experience. The good which I, as a physiog-
nomist, have observed in people round me, has more than
compensated that mass of evil which, though I appeared blind,
I could not avoid seeing. The more I have studied man, the
more have I been convinced of the general influence of his
faculties, the more have remarked that the origin of all evil is
good, that those very powers which made him evil, those abili-
ties, forces, irritability, elasticity, were all, in themselves,
actual, positive, good. The absence of these, it is true, would
have occasioned the absence of an infinity of evil ; but so would
they, likewise, of an infinity of good. The essence of good
has given birth to much evil ; but it contains in itself the pos-
sibility of a stiU infinite increase of good.
The least failing of an individual incites a general outcry,
and his character is at once darkened, trampled on, and de-
stroyed. — The physiognomist views the man whom the whole
world condemns, and — praises, — What ? Vice 2 — No — Does
he excuse the vicious ? — No — He whispers, or loudly affirms,
" Treat this man after such a manner, and you will be asto-
nished at what he is able, what he may be made willing, to
perform. He is not so wicked as he appears ; his countenance
is better than his actions. His actions, it is true, are legible
in his countenance ; but not more legible than his great powers,
his sensibility, the pliability of that heart which has had an
improper bent. Give but these powers, which have rendered
him vicious, another direction, and other objects, and he will
perform miracles of virtue." — Yes, the physiognomist will
pardon where the most benevolent philanthropist must con-
demn. For myself, since I have become a physiognomist, I
have gained knowledge, so much more accurate, of so many
excellent men, and have had such frequent occasion to rejoice
my heart in the discoveries I have made concerning such men,
that this, as I may say, has reconciled me to the whole human
race. What I here mention as having happened to myself,
132 THE UNIVEHSAL EXCELLENCE
each physiognomist, being himself a man, must have, undoubt-
edly, felt.
Again, as pity is awakened, cherished, and heightened, at
the sight of natural evil, so is the noblest and wisest compas-
sion roused by an acute perception and sensibility of human
degeneracy : and from whom is such compassion more to be
expected than from a true physiognomist! I repeat, the
noblest compassion — for it employs itself on the immediate,
the precise, the present, man ; and his secret, his profound
misery, which is not without him, but within — ^the wisest —
-for, while it knows the evil is internal, it thinks not of pal-
liatives, but of internal efficient means, of laying the axe to
the root, of means with the proper application and certainty
of which he is acquainted.
True souls of benevolence, you often shall weep tears of
blood, to find men are so bad ; but, often, also, shall you weep
tears of joy, to find them better than the all-powerful, all-
poisonous, tongue of slander would have made you believe.
OF THE UNIVERSAL EXCELLENCE OF THE
FORM OF MAN.
The title of this fragment is expressive of the contents, or
rather of the very soul, of the whole work ; therefore, what I
may here say, in a separate section, may be accounted as no-
thing ; yet how vast a subject of meditation may it afford to
man !
Each creature is indispensable in the immensity of the crea-
tions of God ; but each creature does not know it is thus indis-
pensable. Man, alone, of all earth's creatures, rejoices in his
indispensability.
No man can render any other man dispensable. The place
of no man can be supplied by another.
This belief of the indispensability and individuality of all
men, and in our own metaphysical indispensability and indi-
viduality, is, again one of the unacknowledged, the noble fruits
of physiognomy; a fruit pregnant with seed most precious.
OF THE FORM OF MAN, 133
whence shall spring lenity and love. Oh ! may posterity be-
hold them flourish ; may future ages repose under their shade !
The worst, the most deformed, the most corrupt of men, is
still indispensable in this world of God, and is more or less
capable of knowing his own individuality, and unsuppliable in-
dispensability. The wickedest, the most deformed of men, is
still more noble than the most beauteous, most perfect animal.
— Contemplate, oh man ! what thy nature is, not what it might
be, not what is wanting. Humanity, amid all its distortions,
will ever remain wondrous humanity !
Incessantly might I repeat doctrines like this ! — Art thou
better, more beauteous, nobler, than many others of thy fellow-
creatures ? — If so, rejoice, and ascribe it not to thyself, but to
Him who, from the same clay, formed one vessel for honour,
another for dishonour ; to Him who, without thy advice, with-
out thy prayer, without any desert of thine, caused thee to be
what thou art.
Yea, to Him ! — " For what hast thou, oh man-, that thou
didst not receive ? Now if thou didst receive, why dost thou
glory as if thou liadst not received V — " Can the eye say to
the hand, I have no need of thee I" — "He that oppresseth the
poor reproacheth his Maker." — " God hath made of one blood
aU nations of men."
Who more deeply, more internally, feels all these divine
truths than the physiognomist ?— The true physiognomist,
who is not merely a man of literature, a reader, a re\'iewer, an
author, but — a man.
Yes, I own, the most humane physiognomist, he who so
eagerly searches for whatever is good, beautiful, and noble in
nature, who delights in the Ideal, who duly exercises, nou-
rishes, refines his taste, with humanity more improved, more
perfect, more holy, even he is in frequent danger, at least, is
frequently tempted to turn from the common herd of depraved
men ; from the deformed, the foolish, the apes, the hypocrites,
the vulgar of mankind; in danger of forgetting that these mis-
shapen forms, these apes, these hypocrites, also, are men;
and that notwithstanding all his imagined, or his real excel-
lence, all his noble feelings, the purity of his views (and who
134 THE UNIVERSAL EXCELLENCE
has cause to boast of these?), all the firmness, the soundness,
of his reason, the feelings of his heart, the powers with which
he is endowed, although he may appear to have approached the
sublime ideal of Grecian art, still he is, very probably, from
his own moral defects, in the eyes of superior beings, in the
eyes of his much more righteous brother, as distorted as the
most ridiculous, most depraved, moral, or physical monster ap-
pears to be in his eyes.
Liable as we are to forget this, reminding is necessary, both
to the WTiter and the reader of this work. — Forget not that
even the wisest of men are men. Forget not how much posi-
tive good may be found, even in the worst ; and that they are
as necessary, as good in their place as thou art. Are they
not equally indispensable, equally unsuppliable ? They possess
not, either in mind or body, the smallest thing exactly as
thou dost. Each is wholly, and in every part, as individual
as thou art.
Consider each as if he were single in the imiverse : then wilt
thou discover powers and excellencies in him which, ab-
stractedly of comparison, deserve all attention and admiration.
Compare him afterwards with others; his similarity, his dis-
similarity, to so many of his fellow-creatures. How must this
incite thy amazement ! How wilt thou value the individuality,
the indispensability of his being ! How wilt thou wonder at
the harmony of his parts, each contributing to form one whole:
at their relation, the relation of his millionfold individuality, to
such multitudes of other individuals ! Yes ! We wonder and
adore the so simple, yet so infinitely varied, expression of
almighty power inconceivable, so especially, and so gloriously,
revealed in the nature of man.
No man ceases to be a man, how low soever he may sink
beneath the dignity of human nature. Not being beast he
still is capable of amendment, of approaching perfection. The
worst of faces still is a human face. Humanity ever continues
the honour and ornament of man.
It is as impossible for a brute animal to become man, although
he may in many actions approach, or almost surpass him, as
for man to become a brute, although many men indulge them-
OF THE FORM OF MAN. 135
selves in actions which we cannot view in brutes without ab-
horrence.
But the very capacity of voluntarily debasing himself in ap-
pearance, even below brutality, is the honour and privilege of
man. This very capacity of imitating all things by an act of
his will, and the power of his understanding. This very capa-
city man only has, beasts have not.— The countenances of
beasts are not susceptible of any remarkable deterioration, nor
are they capable of any remarkable amelioration, or beautify-
ing. The worst of the countenances of men may be still more
debased, but they may, also, to a certain degree, be improved
and ennobled.
The degree of perfection, or degradation, of which man is
capable, cannot be described.
For this reason, the worst countenance has a well-founded
claim to the notice, esteem, and hope of all good men.
Again ; in every human countenance, however debased,
humanity still is visible ; that is, the image of the Deity.
I have seen the worst of men, in their worst of moments,
yet could not all their vice, blasphemy, and oppression of guilt,
extinguish the light of good that shone in their countenances ;
the spirit of humanity, the ineffaceable traits of internal,
eternal, perfectibility. — The sinner we would exterminate, the
man we must embrace.
Oh physiognomy .' What a pledge art thou of the everlast-
ing clemency of God towards man t
Therefore, inquirer into nature, inquire what actually is. —
Therefore, man, be man, in all thy researches ; form not to
thyself ideal bemgs, for thy standard of comparison.
Wherever power is, there is subject of admiration ; and
human, or, if so you would rather, divine power, is in all men.
Man is a part of the family of men : thou art man, and every
other man is a branch of the same tree, a member of the same
body, is, what thou art, and more deserving regard than were
he perfectly similar, had exactly the same goodness, the same
degree of worth thou ha§t ; for he would then no longer be the
single, indispensable, unsuppliable individual which he now
ig Oh man ! Rejoice with whatever rejoices in its existence,
and contemn no being whom God doth not contemn.
136
FIRST LETTER.
ON THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY,
ADDRESSED TO
COUNT THUN, AT VIENNA.
You permit me, honoured Count, to communicate my
thoughts to you, on the study of physiognomy. It appears
to me that all treatises of this kind have neither precision,
perspicuity, nor force sufficient when they are only general,
and are not addressed to some one, of whom it is previously
known that he is able to prove, and will be at the labour of
proving, each proposition ; that he will strengthen proof by
experiment, and that he will remark each neglect, obscurity,
and ambiguity. All I have before written on physiognomy is
not of so much importance as what I now intend to write, on
the study of that science, and the method to be employed in
physiognomonical observation. Should the precepts I give be
successful, so will, also, my whole work. Yet do I feel an
infinite difficulty in explaining myself, so clearly, accurately,
and intelligibly, as is requisite for the promotion of the study
of true physiognomy. I know that when I shall have, with all
possible attention, written some sheets, and imagine I have
said all I can say, there will still many imperfections remain ;
and that, in despite of my utmost care to be accurate, still, to
many, I shall appear inaccurate. This science cannot per-
fectly be taught by book, and no reasonable person will expect "
perfection in these fragments. What I am able to do shall be
done. I pretend not to give rules, to you, sir, who are your-
self an accurate observer, but to submit rules to your examina-
tion. I submit them to you, because you possess physiog-
nomonical sensation, the art of drawing, and have sufficient
genius to facilitate the study of physiognomy by the various
aids of which you are possessed.
THE STUDY OP PUYSIOGNOMY. 137
Nothing can more effectually promote the study of physiog-
nomy than an answer to the question, how ought physiognomy
to be studied? Mistakes in physiognomy are, probably, the
worst of mistakes ; since they contribute to the unhappiness
of two persons, the observer and the observed. How nume-
rous, frequently, are the ill effects of a single false decision !
Still more so of a false rule, which is not founded on frequent
experiment ; and worse than either is false information, on
which false rules are founded. I therefore delayed, as long as
possible, writing on the manner in which the physiognomist
ought to form himself. Separate remarks ought not to be pub-
lished without the most scrupulous attention to their truth ;
much less instructions how remarks are to be made. Reason-
ing, perhaps, cannot find a more capacious field of exercise
than in the pursuit of this study. We scarcely can be suffi-
ciently on our guard against error, in proceeding and in judg-
ing, since error comes with such ease and rapidity, and is so
fatal in its consequences. Of this the physiognomist never
can be too often warned. Never can he be too often admonished
to vary and multiply his observations. Never can the man of
weak intellects be too often cautioned to avoid the study of
physiognomy. The self-nominated physiognomist, without feel-
ing, without wisdom, reason, or knowledge ; without patience
to observe and to compare ; without the love of truth or of
man; the witling, the censurer, the rash critic, the shallow
slanderer, oh, how mischievous, how dangerous is he in human
society ! — I repeat, the physiognomist without truth and rea-
son ; I do not recall my words, but utter them with added
force. Physiognomonical sensation is of all things the most
indispensable. It is the first, most essential, of requisites;
the eye of nature, without which all rules and instructions are
as useless to man as spectacles are to the blind. Alas ! without
wisdom, without rational experiment, comparison, discernment,
reason, rules, practice, and the art of drawing, how will the
finest physiognomonical genius, if not often err himself, cause
others to err ! His sensations will, at least, be perplexed and
impossible to communicate. 'For my own part, before I would
recommendj or, rather, before I would permit the study of
138 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
physiognomy, I must be convinced the student possesses this
physiognomonical sensation, understanding, wisdom, penetra^
tion, the knowledge and the practice of drawing. Physiog-
nomonical sensation, in order to feel and read natures and
characteristics; understanding, wisdom, and penetration, to
impart his observations, and express them by general, ab-
stract, signs ; and the art of drawing that he may portray
character to the eye. Wanting these, the study of physiog-
nomy cannot be brought to perfection. It is not without
reason that I greatly fear lest incapable men should lightly
undertake the most difficult of all studies, as far as it is de-
fined and scientific, to the utter degradation of physiognomy ;
but I will bear none of the blame. I will rather fatigue by
too repeatedly warning. All men have a certain degree of
physiognomonical sensation : this I know, and loudly, deter-
minedly, proclaim. But every one has not sufficient sensation,
sufficient reason, sufficient capacity, accurately to define, and
impart his observations. All are not qualified for the study of
physiognomy.
I shall not repeat what has already been said, concerning
the necessary endowments of the physiognomist, or the diffi-
culties he has to encounter. I shall only proceed to lay before
him some remarks, which, although, as I have already said, I
am conscious they are very imperfect, I am also convinced,
by experience, are well adapted to assist the physiognomist
in his studies.
To the scholar, who asks my advice, I will say, if you feel
an impulse to this study, if difierent countenances affect you
differently, if one is powerful and prompt to attract, another as
powerful, as prompt to repel ; if you are desirous of reading the
heart ; if you feel a resistless anxiety to obtain precision and
certainty in whatever you undertake, then study physiognomy.
What is to be understood by studying physiognomy 2
It signifies to exercise the feelings, quicken sensibility, ac-
quire the power of imparting, of delineating, characterizing,
and depicting what we feel and observe.
It signifies to search, limit, .and class the visible signs of
invisible powers.
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 139
It signifies, by the lineaments and changes of the human
countenance, to discover their causes and effects.
It signifies to learn, and to decide with precision, what cha-
racter of mind certain forms and countenances are, or are not,
capable of receiving.
It signifies to devise general, assignable, communicable signs
of the powers of mind ; or, in general, the internal faculties of
man, and to apply them with certainty, and facility, to all
cases.
If this thou art unwilling to learn, then would I say, though
thou wert my friend, study not physiognomy. To learn less
than this, deserves not the appellation of study.
First, most accurately inquire what all human bodies and
countenances have in common, and wherein they generally
differ from all other animal, organized bodies. The more cer-
tainly and perfectly these differences are understood, the more
highly will the student think of human nature ; he will examine
man with a deeper reverence, and discern his character more
distinctly.
Next, carefully study the parts, their connexion, combina-
tion, and proportion. Head the Encyclopedie, Durer, or any
other author ; but confide not in books, examine, measure thy
own proportions : first alone, afterwards in company with a
penetrating, unprejudiced friend ; then let him, or some other,
measure thee, without interference.
Attend to two things in measuring the proportion of the
parts, which, in my opinion, have not hitherto been accurately
distinguished by any person who has considered proportion ;
and the vrant of which distinction has occasioned so many
distortions in drawing, and so many erroneous judgments
concerning the very regular works of God, in all their ap-
parent exceptions ; that is, attend to the difference between
right-lined and curve-lined proportion, for this is the very key
to physiognomy. If the parts of the countenance, if the limbs
are proportionate, according to right-lined, perpendicular ad-
measurement, the man is then beautiful, well-formed, intelli-
gent, strong, firm, noble, in a superior degree. All this he
also may be, although his parts and members, according to
140 TtlE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
appearances, vary from this proportion. For this proportion
may, notwithstanding, be found according to curve lines, but
it is to be remarked that rectilinear proportion is, in its na-
ture, more advantageous and indestructible.
Being once well acquainted with the parts of th6 body, their
connexion, and proportion ; and so perfectly as to discover, at
the first glance, in each lineament, whatever is disproportionate,
defective, superfluous, whatever is distorted, or misplaced; and
to explain these things to others ; having obtained certainty
in the eye, and a perspicuity of exquisite discrimination, which
is the great sensorium of physiognomy ; then, firgt, may the
student venture attentively to observe individual character.
He should begin with such countenances as are remarkable
in form, and in character ; should examine nien whose features
are unambiguous, positive, obvious.
Let him, for example, choose a man of extraordinary powers
of mind, an idiot, a person of exquisite sensibility, ov a cold,
hard, insensible, man of iron.
Let him study the remarkable character he selects, as if he
had that alone to study. First generally, afterwards in all its
parts ; describe the whole form, and each particular feature,
in words, as if to a painter, who was to draw a picture of the
person. After this description, let the person sit, if it be prac-
ticable, to the student, as he would to the painter. Begin
with his stature. Then give the proportions ; fi;-st the appa-
rent, as measured according to perpendicular and horizontal
lines ; proceed afterwards to the forehead, nose, mouth, chin,
and especially to the figure, colour, position, size, and depth
of the eyes.
Having finished the description, examine it word by word,
line by line, with attention, while the person is present. Care-
fully inquire if nothing be wanting, nothing superfluous ; if all
is truth, all accurately expressed. Draw the figure of the per-
son, when he is absent, according to this description. If the
student cannot produce a general resemblance of character, he
has not well described, nor well observed ; has not observed as
a student in physiognomy ought to observe. That this kind
of exercise may become more perfect, a habit must b 3 acquired
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 141
of studying any countenance, so as to seize and deeply impress
its most prominent features on the memory, in a few moments.
My method is first to examine the form, whether it be round,
oval, square, or angular, and under what general figure it may
be most properly classed.
Having observed the full face, I next examine the profile,
perhaps by dividing it into two parts. I then define its per-
pendicular length, according to the three customary divisions,
and remark its perpendicular variations: then the relative
position of these three parts, the forehead, the nose, the chin.
This I can the easier do, if I imagine a right line, passing from
the extreme point of the upper lip, immediately under the nose,
to the point of the deepest part of the cavity under the fore-
head, by which this relative position, in all countenances,
naturally dindes itself into three principal sections : the per-
pendicular, the line projecting at the lower point, or the line
projecting at the upper point. Without having such simple
and determinate rules, it wiU never be possible for the imagi-
nation to retain the true form of the head, physiognomonically
accurate. 1 must here also remark to young painters, that, un-
less they precisely notice these two fixed points, it will scarcely
be possible for them ever to delineate a countenance physiogno-
monically. — Having impressed these two points in my memory,
I more minutely consider, first, the forehead ; afterwards the
eyebrows, the space between the eyes, the descent to the nose,
the nose itself; then the indescribably characteristic space
between the tip of the nose and where it joins the lip, which
can only be of three kinds. It must form a right, an obtuse,
or an acute angle. I next remark whether the upper or
under side of this angle be the longest : afterwards I examine
the mouth, which, likewise, in the profile, can only have three
principal forms. The upper lip is either over the under, even
to it, or projecting beyond it. In like manner must the chin
be measured and classed. The line descending to it will either
be perpendicular, projecting, or retreating ; and the line formed
by the under part of the chin will either be horizontal, ascend-
ing, or descending. I, also, particularly remark the form of
the jaw-bone ; how far it is, or is not, left visible by the mua-
142 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
cular parts, which often is most decisively significant. I/esti-
mate the eye, first, by its distance from the root of the nose;
next, according to its size, colour, the curve of the upp,er and
lower parts of the eyelid ; by which means, in a short time, I
can, as I may say, learn the countenance by rote ; a-iid counte-
nances may be studied by rote, in the same manner as poems,
the principal parts of which we first examine, then impress
successive passages on the memory, and, looking in the book,
examine how far we are perfect, still recurring to the text
whenever we find ourselves defective. Thus I study the coun-
tenance. Without this exercise of the memory, the spirit of
observation will ever remain dull, nor ever attain that high
excellence which is indispensable in the study of physiognomy.
Some characteristic countenance being thus thoroughly
studied; then, for some few days, observe all countenances
that happen to be met ; and let all those pass that have not
some remarkable conformity of features to the one already
studied. That such conformity may be the more easily per-
ceived, let observation, at first, be confined to the forehead. _
— As is the resemblance of the forehead, so will be the re-
semblance of the rest of the features. — The grand secret of
physiognomonical observation consists in simplifying, develop-
ing, producing, the principal, the characteristic features. — If,
for example, a resembling forehead be found ; and, conse-
quently, according to our axiom, a resembling countenance ;
the next effort must be to define the varieties, and what is
wanting to form a perfect resemblance, and fix the character
of the person newly observed in the memory, especially its
most conspicuous parts. If decisive resemblances are found
in both, I say decisive, this is a certain proof that the ex-
traordinary part of the physiognomonical character is dis-
covered, so far as that extraordinary part of character is not
contradicted by other men, who have these marks, and have not
this character. Should such exceptions be found (but with
difficulty wiU they be found), it may then be concluded that
these prominent physiognomonical marks, which were supposed
decisive of character, are, in reality, not the deciding marks of
character. That error may be the less probable, watch these
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 143
decisive parts, when that which is extraordinary in the cha-
racter is active, is put in motion. Attentively remark the
sharpness of the lines which is then produced by the motion
of the muscles, and compare these lines in the two counte-
nances. If these resemble, no longer doubt of the resemblance
of the minds. Should any uncommon trait be found in an
uncommon man, and the like trait be found in another equally
unconunon man, and in no other person whatever, then will
tliis trait be the grand mark of character, and the key to
innumerable similar shades.
For example, Haller, certainly, in many respects, was an
extraordinary man. Among other remarkable features, which
he had in common with other men of understanding, I ob-
served a trait, a line, a muscle, below the eye, which I never
saw, after this form, in any other man. I do not yet know
what it denotes, but I pay attention to all countenances, and
the first which I shall meet, with this trait, I shall carefully
examine, shall turn the discourse on those subjects in which
Haller excelled, or on such as will easily make it visible whether
a person with such a trait possesses any portion of the spirit of
Haller. From a multitude of former observations, I am con-
vinced, that can I find two more countenances with this trait,
another great letter in the alphabet of physiognomy is disco-
vered. Haller may have had weaknesses, of which this trait
may be a token ; it, therefore, may be found in some very
common men, who, without Haller's numerous excellencies,
may, in common with him, possess only this defect. The con-
trary, however, is probably the fact ; but, without encouraging
prejudices for either opinion, I shall patiently wait till 1 can
discover the trait.
Another most important rule is to study the most extra-
ordinary characters, examine the excess, the extreme of cha-
racter, and the extremes of the opposite'characters ; at one
time the most decisive traits of benevolent good, and at ano-
ther of destructive evil ; now the greatest of poets, next the
dullest of prose writers ; the idiot born, and the man of genius.
With this view visit hospitals for idiots. Begin with draw-
ing the grand outline of the most remarkable traits of the most
144 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
stupid. Those first which all have in common ; and next such
as are individually peculiar. Having drawn what is particular,
what is general will soon appear. From what is general, recur
again to what is individual ; describe and draw draw, and de-
scribe. Study each part; cover the other parts with the band ;
consider the connexion, the relation. Inquire where the de-
cisive is to be found. Is it in this feature, or in this ? Select
certain traits, and add them to the other features, that the
combination and effect of the whole may be found.
Seek, afterwards, for the company of men of wisdom and
profound thought, and proceed as before.
If time and opportunity are wanting to draw the whole coun-
tenance, and study it perfectly, particular attention is neces-
sary to be paid to two lines. Having these, the character of
the countenance is obtained, that is to say, the key to the cha^
racter. — These lines are that from before the mouth, when the
lips are closed, or opened, and that described by the eyelid,
over the pupil. To understand these is equal to what is called
understanding the countenance. I boldly maintain, by these
two lineaments, it is possible, it is easy, to decipher the mind,
the heart of every man. — Not by ME, but by him who has
more time and talents for observation. All countenances,
whose characters I think I know, I can understand by the aid
of these two lines. The greatest painters after nature have
neglected them, although the very soul of resemblance de-
pends on a strict adherence to these lineaments. If they ever
introduce a manner, it is into these, and from these it is easy
to discover whether the master be, or be not, a sound physiog-
nomist. But since, in practice, these two lines are so finely
arched, so moveable, that an exceedingly experienced eye is re-
quisite to define them with precision ; and since, besides these,
the eyebrows in many persons are likewise highly expressive, I
frequently call in thS assistance of the profile, which it is easier
to define in the parts about the eye than in those near the
mouth. But, where that is not sufficient, I have recourse to
the descent of the forehead to the nose, and that of the nose
to the mouth. These two firm and almost unchangeable parts
cf the profile, I delineate in imagination, that I may after-
THE STUDY OP PHYSIOGNOMY. 145
wards be able to represent and preserve them in an actual
drawing.
Accurate examination, and repeated comparison, between
the two moveable, and the two immoveable lines, will teach us,
that they, as in general all the features of the countenance,
have a most immediate relation to each other ; so that the
one will immediately be denoted by the other ; and experience
will teach us, in time, having the one given, to produce the
other. In order to acquire this perfection, so indescribably
important, it is necessary to draw nothing but the outlines of
the upper eyelid and the mouth of the same person, and to
draw them, continually, on the same paper ; each pair of such
lines, separately, on one paper, that they may the more easily
be placed side by side, compared, and classed. The two other
lines may easily be obtained by the means of shades. A num-
ber of these should also be drawn on separate cards, that they
may be arranged. After which their exact proportions are to
be determined.
Yet I say not, noble Count, to the physiognomist, study,
describe, draw, select, compare by repeated observation, these
characteristic, illustrating traits, alone. — No. — Study all,
neglect no part of the countenance. Each trait contains the
whole character of man, as, in the smallest of the works of
God, the character of Deity is contained. God can create
nothing which is not divine. The truly wise man, as wise,
utters not the smallest folly. His smallest actions have
meaning. To sin against a part of the countenance, by de-
spising it, is to sin against the whole. He who formed the
eye to see, also planted the ear. He is never at variance
with himself. How can I often enough, emphatically enough,
awfully enough, declare God and nature are never at variance !
— As is the eye so is the ear ; as the forehead so each indi-
vidual hair. Every minute part has the nature and character
of the whole. Each speaks truth, the truth of the whole.*
• Nulla enim corporis pars est, quamiibet minuta et exilis, quantumvis
abjecta et ignobilis, quae non aliquod argumentum insitse naturje, et quo
animus inelinet, exhibeat. — Lemnius
146 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY
To US, indeed, one speaks with a louder, another with a more
gentle, voice ; but the language of all is the same. It is the
harmony of innumerable voices proclaiming truth. — There are
some moments in which the whispers of nature are more intel-
ligible than her loudest cries. Frequently the passage of an
author which shall seem widest of meaning, explains something
the most essential. A trifling, inferior trait in the counte-
nance shall often be the key to the whole. The solemn testi-
mony of St. Paul is here applicable. " There is nothing com-
mon of itself, but to him only that esteemeth any thing to be
common." Yes, " Heaven and earth shall sooner pass away
than one jot, or one tittle, of the countenance, lose its signify-
ing power."
Thou art imworthy, that is to say, incapable, to study the
countenance of man, if thou excludest the smallest things as
unworthy of remark.
I add, however, the student may probably have a particu-
lar capacity for the observation of this or that particular fea^
ture, or member. As various men are variously affected by
different arts and sciences, so is it with the countenance. He,
therefore, should carefully examine how far he has such pro-
pensities, for the examination of one trait or member, more
than another ; and such trait or member he should study first,
and most, as if no other were to be studied, but that the
whole character were contained in this particular trait.
Whoever would study physiognomy should apply himself to
the study of shades. He that despises them despises physiog-
nomy. If he have no physiognomonical sensation for shades,
he has none for the human countenance ; whUe he who pos-
sesses this physiognomonical sensation, at the sight of shades,
win read the countenance with as much facility as he would
read an open book.
Make the taking of shades a practice, and to write down
what is known of the character of the original, in the most
clear and precise terms.
Having obtained a number of such accurate shades, the
chai'acters of the originals of which are well known, do not
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 147
first arrange those which appear to have a similarity of intel-
lectual or moral character. For, first, the most precise un-
physiognomonical description, in words, is indeterminate ; and,
secondly, which fs the consequence of the first, there are in-
numerable moral and intellectual excellencies and defects, to
describe which we have but some general' term, and which,
internally, are widely different, therefore, are expressed in the
countenance by traits as widely different as themselves. Thus
two men of extraordinary genius may have countenances the
most opposite. For this reason, we must not begin with
classing their shades by words, which may characterize the
originals. For example, we must not say this is a man of
genius ; this is another man of genius : therefore we will com-
pare the two, and see what their shades have in common. — It
may happen that they have nothing in common, but that their
shades are absolutely dissimilar. — The shades, therefore, should
first be ranged according^ to their resemblance. — The resem-
blance of the forehead. — "These foreheads are not alike —
where then is the likeness of their minds to be discovered?
This forehead retreats, is thus or thus arched, forms this kind
of angle, and this is much the same. Let us examine whether
their minds are equally similar." To answer such questions,
with all possible precision, the great shades should, first, be
measured by a proper instrument, and their proportions ascer-
tained between the height from the eyebrows to the crown of
the head ; so should their diagonal lines. Thus will the per-
severing student find what he is in search of, will find that the
resemblance of outlines express resembhng powers of mind ;
that the same kind of forehead generally denotes the same
mode of considering subjects, of observation, of sensation ;
that, as each country has its latitude and corresponding tem-
perature, so has each countenance, each forehead, their lati-
tude, their corresponding temperature.
The physiognomist might facilitate his observations, were
he to mark the various shades of the forehead with various
letters of the alphabet, so that each forehead might have
its correspondent letter, or its general name appropriated to
itself.
148 THE STUJ>Y OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
Particular attention should be paid to what are the kind
of characters that are most, or least expressive, taken in
shades, and observe whether the active characters do not ap-
pear much more striking than the sensitive and passive. A
habit should be obtained of drawing countenances with facility,
after which the eye, mouth, and features, should be added,
in the absence of the original ; and next the profile drawn
from viewing the full face, and the full face from the profile.
Sketches from fancy should be drawn, and lines and fea-
tures sought for in them, that have some determinate sig-
nifications.
Let each of these traits be simplified as much as possible,
and each be drawn in the most careful manner, on a separate
paper, that they may be afterwards arranged and compared
at pleasure.
By this apparently trifling practice, the most difiicult things
will soon become easy.
Let the principal view of the student be directed to every
possible mode of simplifying and transposing of features.
I hold the basis of the forehead to be the sum of all the
innumerable outlines of the skull ; or the sum of all its radii
from the crown of the head.
I suspected a priori, and was afterwards convinced, from
proof, that the whole capacity, and perfectibility, of a healthy
man, is expressed in this principal line ; and a perfect physi-
ognomonical eye, contemplating a multitude from a window,
would, from this outline, read the character of each indi-
vidual.
Therefore, to acquire the habit of selecting this principal
line, it will be necessary to draw the same forehead in front and
in profile, to take the shades, and afterwards measm-e them.
It is a diflScult, but not impossible undertaking, to delineate
the whole principal outline of the skull, as it would appear
seen in front, or in profile. The significant variations of these
principal outlines may easily be observed, and treasured up by
the student who shall visit a convent, and observe the shorn
heads of the monks, when bowed down in prayer.
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 149
Waking men seldom suffer themselves to be accurately ob-
feerved. There are numerous opportunities of seeing them,
but the opportunity in which they may be scrutinized, without
offensive indiscretion, is rarely found. But, sleeping, how
instructive are they to the physiognomist ! — Draw, deline-
ate separate parts, features, outlines, preserve the position
of the sleeper, particularly the disposition of the body, head,
legs, and arms. They are indescribably significant, especially
in children. Compare the form of the countenance and the
position ; and wonderful harmony will be discovered. Each
countenance has its peculiar position of body, and of arms.
The dead, and impressions of the dead, taken in plaster,
are not less worthy of observation. Their settled features are
much more prominent than in the living, and the sleeping.
What life makes fugitive, death arrests ; what was indefina^
ble is defined. All is reduced to its proper level ; each trait
is in its true proportion, unless excruciating disease, or acci-
dent, have preceded death.
There is nothing I would more strongly recommend to the
physiognomist than the study of exact and unchangeable
busts in plaster. How leisurely, how calmly, how accurately,
may he examine such busts ! They may be turned and placed
how he pleases. The shades of every kind may be taken and
measured. They may be cut at pleasure, and each division
accurately drawn ; the great outlines may all be determined,
even to mathematical precision. In this manner the physiog-
nomist fixes his attention on the firm, the unchangeable truth
of physiognomy ; that truth and stability to which his obser-
vations should all be unremittingly directed.
Whoever compares the plaster busts of men of genius and
idiots with each other, whoever dissects, draws, and measures
them, part by part, will have faith in physiognomy, equal to
the belief of his own existence ; and his knowledge of other
men will, in time, equal the knowledge he has of himself.
For a similar purpose, I advise the physiognomist to collect
]50 THE STUDY OF PHySIOGNOMY.
the skulls of known persons; to take the shades of these
skulls, which should be placed all in one horizontal row, so that
he may take the triangle that circumscribes each. I repeat,
of persons known ; for, before he teaches, he must be taught.
The known must be compared with the known; indubitable
external character with indubitable internal ; and, having per-
fectly discovered the proportions of these, then must he first
search the proportions of the unknovra, and the neaxly similar.
Whoever too hastily rejects this counsel will certainly be ex-
posed to laughter, and become dispirited. It would be folly
to suppose that all who delight in physiognomy should be ex-
pected immediately to solve every problem that is presented ;
nor would the folly of renouncing the study because this is
impossible, be less. Man must have before he can give. I
therefore advise the student to exercise himself, and give un-
presuming judgments among his friends ; but not to answer
the inquisitive, whose motives do not originate in the love of
truth, but in idle curiosity. He who is vainly desirous of
making a parade of his physiognomonical knowledge, who does
not consider the science too sacred for such abuse, will never
make any great progress in the discovery of truth. The truth
should first be sought for self-information, self-conviction, and
afterwards discovered to the penetrating friend. Truth ac-
quired should also be preserved, and applied to the discovery
of more truth ; which is evident as day, certain as our exist-
ence. Answer not idle inquiries, nor increase the difficulties
to be encountered by too precipitate decisions.
A collection of medals, in plaster, of ancient and modem
heads, is an aid most necessary to the physiognomist ; as are all
profiles, which are small, and well defined ; for they are easy
to arrange, in every possible order. Though the flexible fea-
tures in medals, are seldom exact, yet the larger parts are, for
that reason, the more accurate ; and though they should be
inaccurate, they are still important to the physiognomist, for
the exercise of physiognomonical sensation, and the classing of
countenances.
lianguage never can be sufficiently studied.
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 151
All error originates in the deficiencies of language, the want
of peculiar characteristic signs. Truth must be acknowledged
as truth, if it be expressed with sufficient precision, if it be
sufficiently separated, simplified, and illustrated. Man must
receive truth with irrefragable conviction, when it is presented
to him unclouded, unmixed, unadulterated. — Study languages,
therefore, especially the mother tongue, and the French, which
is so rich in characteristic and physiognomonical terms.
Wherever a word, peculiarly significant, in reading or con-
versation occurs, it ought to be remembered, and inserted in
the common-place book : such as epithets that express every
gradation of love, of understanding, wit, and other qualities.
A register, the most perfect that can be obtained, of all
characteristic countenances, is a very necessary aid for the
student, which he must compile from the writings of those who
have known men best, and from his own observation. I have
collected above four hundred epithets for countenances of
various kinds, yet, by no means, have sufficient at present.
The physiognomist should search for, or invent, a characte-
ristic epithet for every countenance he considers ; but such
epithets should not be too hastily applied. All the varieties of
epithets that are significant, should be written down : but,
before the outline of a countenance that is arranged under any
such epithet be dravm, and accurately described, every care
should be taken that one countenance is not confounded with
another.
Some of my general classing words are, love, mind, moral,
immoral sensation, power, wit, understanding, taste, religion,
imperfection, local-countenances, rank-countenances, office-
countenances, mechanic-countenances.
Specimen of epithets under the title wit.
Wit, captious wit, witling, strong wit, dull witted, quick
witted, sweet witted, mischievous wit, acrimonious wit, vain
witted, severe witted, dry witted, cold witted, rude, icy witted,
vulgar wit, sea wit, thieves' wit, rapid wit, raillery, drollery,
fanciful repartee, petulant, comic, burlesque, malignant, smiling,
laughing, humorous, cynical wit ; refined wit, &c. Sec.
152 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
Having sought the character of the countenance in paint-
ings or drawings, by himself or others, the student, then,
should draw this countenance with the characteristic outline ;
which may often be done by a few simple strokes, or even by
dotting. My continual endeavour is to simplify. The three
things to which, especially, attention should be paid, are, the
general form of the countenance, the relation of its constituent
parts, and their curved lines, or positions ; aU which may easily
be expressed by the most simple marks.
If there be a difficulty in finding the actual, the positive
character of the countenance, it should be sought by analogy ;
the register of epithets should be examined, word by word, and
such epithets as appear to have any relation to the countenance,
written down. The amount of these may enable the student
to discover the true epithet. If no epithet can be found ap-
plicable to the countenance from this copious register, let not
that countenance be forgotten in any of its positions, traits, or
wrinkles, until it is deciphered. The more enigmatical the
countenance is, the more will it serve, when explained, as a key
for the explication of others.
Study the best painters ; copy the best portraits, the best
historical pieces. Among the portrait painters, I hold sacred
Mignard, Largilliere, Rigaud, Kneller, Reynolds, and Van-
dyke. I prefer Mignard's and Rigaud's portraits to Vandyck's,
who is often deficient in industry and illusion ; since he rather
considered the whole, and the spirit of the countenance, than
its minute parts. I honour Vandyke perhaps as highly as any
man ; but should some of his pictures which I have not seen
be more laboriously and minutely finished, still it is generally
true that for the physiognomist and his studies, his heads (not
including the forms, in which he was so fortunate, nor the
foreheads and eyebrows, to which he so well knew how to im-
part individuality and character) contain too few of the small
lines, and the distinct parts have too little precision ; he prin-
cipally painted to produce effect at the distance of a few paces.
Gibbon, Vanderbanck, Mans, Poel, and probably others, whose
names do not occur to my memory at this moment, excepted,
how many Dutch, English, and Italian painters, supposing the
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 153
axiom true which says the servile copyist is no painter, have
reproachfully omitted to copy the fine minutise of nature, and
imposed upon taste the specious, intoxicating, general hkeness,
from which little is to be learnt by the physiognomist. Gene-
ral ! — Does nature work thus in general ? — Yes, ye Generalists !
I shall certainly consider you as the best of the scholars, the
imitators of nature !
Kupezki, Kilian, Lucas Kranache, and Holbein particularly,
are among the first of portrait painters. How much more
will the physiognomist learn from these, although good taste
and freedom are often wanting ! Truth must ever be preferred
to beauty. I would rather write the true than the beautiful.
I mean not to praise what is confused, but the best pictures of
Erasmus, by Holbein, greatly exceed all the portraits of Van-
dyke, in truth and simplicity. To despise what is minute is to
despise nature. What can be more minute, and less confused,
than the works of nature ? The heads of Teniers are invalu-
able to the physiognomist, although, with his microscopic mi-
nuteness, he has neglected to convey the spirit of the whole. —
Neither can Soutmann, excellent as many of his heads are, be
recommended to the student of physiognomy. The precision
and certainty of Blyhof are, to me, more valuable ; and the
portraits of Morin are scarcely to be equalled for the physiog-
nomist.
I have only seen a few heads of Rembrandt that can be of
use to the student.
Colla would, probably, have been one of the greatest of por-
trait painters, had he not died in youth. Most of his heads
are excellent for the study of physiognomy.
Among historical designers and painters, a small number of
whom were physiognomists, while the remainder applied them-
selves to the expression of the passions, only the following are,
in many respects, worthy notice ; though, in reality, the worst
may afford materials to the student.
Nature, the noble, intoxicating pleasure, the sublime, may
be learnt from Titian. There is a portrait by him, at Dussel-
dorf. which has few equals in the natural and sublime.
The features of pride, contempt, severity, arrogance, and
154 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
power repressed, are conspicuous in the works of Michael
Angelo.
In Guido Rheni, all the traits of caJm, pure, heavenly love.
In Reubens, the lineaments of all that is cruel, powerful,
benign and — hellish. It is to be regretted that he did not
paint more portraits. His Cardinal Ximenes, at Dusseldorf,
surpasses the best of the Vandykes.
In Vanderwerf, features and countenances replete with the
purest, the noblest, humility ; and godlike suffering.
In Laresse, still more in Poussin, and most of all in Raphael ;
simplicity, greatness of conception, tranquil superiority, sub-
limity the most exalted. Raphael never can be enough studied,
although he only exercised his mind on the rarest forms, and
the grandest traits of countenance.
In Hogarth — alas ! how little of the noble, how little of
beauteous expression is to be found in this — I had almost
said, false prophet of beauty ! But what an immense treasure
of features of meanness in excess, vulgarity the most disgust-
ing, humour the most irresistible, and vice the most unmanly !
In Gerard Douw, vulgar character, deceit, attention. — There
is a picture of a mountebank, by him, at Dusseldorf, from the
countenance of whom, and his hearers, the physiognomist may
abstract many a lineament.
In Wilkenboon, the best defined expressions of ridicule.
In Spranger, every kind of violent passion.
In Callot, every species of beggar, knave, and thief, are cha-
racterized. The worst of this kind are, also, to be found in
A. Bath.
In H. Goltz and Albert Durer, every kind of comic, mean,
common, mechanical, servile, boorish countenance and feature.
In M. Vos, Lucas van Leyden, and Sebastian Brand, all
these, and still more ; many traits and countenances full of
the noble power and truth of apostolic greatness.
In Rembrandt, all the most tasteless passions of the vulgar.
In Annibal Caracci, traits of the ridiculous, and every kind
of the strong, and the vicious, caricatured. He had the gift,
so necessary to the physiognomist, of portraying much char
racter in a few strokes.
THE STllDY OP PHYSIOGNOMY. 155
In Chodowiecki, innumerable traits of innocence ; of the
child, the servant, the virgin, the matron ; of vices, of the
gestures, of the passions ; in citizens, nobles, soldiers and
courtiers.
In Schellenberg, every trait of vulgar humour.
In La Fage, the behaviomr and postures of voluptuous
Bacchants.
In Rugendas, all imaginable features of wrath, pain, pas-
sion, and exultation^
In Bloemart, little, except some positions of relaxed, silent
affliction.
In Schlutter, every lineament of a calm, noble, great mind,
suffering bodily pain.— The same racked in the distortions of
Rode.
In Fuseli, gigantic traits of rage, terror, madness, pride,
fierce distraction, hell.
In Mengs, the traits of taste, nobility, harmony, and tran-
quillity of soul.
In West, exalted simplicity, tranquillity, infantine innocence.
In Le Brun, the eyes, eyebrows, and mouths of every pas-
sion.
Add your own name, noble Count, to those of the great
masters whom the physiognomists may and will study.
Let the student select every kind of trait, from these and
other masters, and class, and insert them in his common-place
portfolio, then will he, I am convinced, very shortly see what,
though all may, none do see, know what all may, none do know.
Yet from all these painters he will, ten times for one, only
gain pathognomonical knowledge. His physiognomical acquisi-
tions will be few. Still, however, though not frequently, he
will sometimes be instructed. ■ And here, noble Count, will I,
at this time conclude ; that I may not weary one who does not
make physiognomy his only study
156
SECOND LETTER.
ON THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY,
ADDRESSED TO
cou>rr THUN, at Vienna.
Permit me, noble Count, to send a few more miscellaneous
thoughts, counsels, and entreaties to the physiognomist, for
your inspection, if you are not already fatigued by my former
essay. I shall be as brief as possible. How few shall I be
able to say of the innumerable things which shall remain to be
said ! Not all, but the most necessary, and as they occur ;
whatever the order, the matter will be the same
Nature forms man according to one standard ; which, how-
ever various, always continues, like the pentograph, in the same
parallelism and proportion.
Every man who, without some external accident of force,
does not remain in the general parallelism of humanity, is a
monster born ; and the more he remains in the purest, hori-
zontal, perpendicular, parallelism of the human form, the more
is he perfect, manly, and divine.* This is an observation which
I should first require the student to demonstrate ; and, after-
wards, to make it a general principle. Often has it been said,
yet not often enough, that the greatest of minds may inhabit
the most deformed of bodies ; genius and virtue may take up
their abode in many a distorted shape, as they often do in the
poorest huts ; but are there not huts in which no human being
can stand upright ; and are there not heads, are there not
* In the use of the words, horizontal, perpendicular, parallelism, the
author evidently has the same allusion to the pentograph in view ; they
would else be absurd.
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 167
forms, in which no greatness of mind, no genius, can erect
itself ? Therefore let the physiognomist seek for those beau-
teous, those well-proportioned forms, in which great minds
are ever found, and which forms, though they may deviate from
proportion, still leave sufficient freedom and room for the abode
of talents and virtue ; or, probably, by restraint, add power to
talents and virtue.
2.
When the principal trait is signiticant, so are the inferior
traits. The smallest must have a cause as well as the greatest.
Each has a cause, or none have. If, O physiognomist! this
requires demonstration, renounce the study of physiognomy.
3.
The most beauteous countenance is capable of excessive
degradation, and the most deformed of like improvement ; but
each form, each countenance, is only capable of a certain kind
and degree of degradation or improvement. Let the physiog-
nomist study this possible degree of perfectibility and degra-
dation of each countenance ; let him often consider the
meanest countenance when performing the noblest, and the
noblest when performing the meanest action.
4.
Positive character in a countenance discovers positive power;
but the want of the positive does not show the want of the
corresponding qualities : that is to say, in general, though it
does the want of the particular kind, or the particular appli-
cation of that quality.
5.
Let the physiognomist especially study opposite counte-
nances, such as in themselves are incapable of comparison, and
can only be compared by the intervention of a third. Two
countenances, totally at warfare with each other, are, to the
physiognomist, phenomena of inestimable worth.
6.
Let the student confide in his first, most rapid sensations
158 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
the most ; and more in these than in what he may supple the
result of observation. The more his remark was the effect of
sensation flowing from, and awakened by sensation, the more
accurate will induction be. Yet let him not forsake the in-
quiries of observation. Let him draw the trait, the form, the
attitudes by which he was moved ; and, in like manner, traits,
forms, and attitudes, the most opposite; then let him show
them to unaffected, sound reasoning men, and ask what qua-
lities those things denote. Should they all concur m judgment,
let him trust his first rapid feelings as he would inspiration,
7.
Suffer not* the smallest, the most accidental, apparently
insignificant, remark to be lost. Let each be carefully col- .
lected; though, at first, its signification be unknown. They
will soon or late be found useful.
8.
Delineate the stature of men. Consider what the tall, the
middle-sized, and the short have in common. Each will be
found to have its common appropriate character in the whole,
and in the features individually.
9.
Consider the voices of men ; their height, depth, strength,
weakness ; whether hollow, clear, rough, pleasant, natural, or
feigned ; and inquire what foreheads and tones are oftenest
associated. If the student has a good ear, he will certainly
acquire the knowledge of temperament, character, and what
class the forehead belongs to by the voice.
10.
There is something in the countenance of each man by which
he, in particular, is characterized. 1 have, in various places,
mentioned that there are traits which, without exception, are
characteristic of each countenance ; but exclusive of these
general there are also particular traits, determinately precise,
and, if I may so say, of the most acute significance. Let the
THB STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 159
searching eye of the physiognomist be fixed on these. All men
of profound thought have not strikingly thoughtful counte-
nances ; some only have the character of thoughtfulness, that
is to say, the signs of thought, in certain wrinkles of the fore-
head. The character of benevolence is sometimes only visible
in the form, position, and colour of the teeth. Discontent is
sometimes only depicted in certain angular lines, or hollowness
of the cheeks.
11.
Carefully examine, and distinguish, the natural, the acci-
dental, and the violent. Monsters excepted, nature is ever
uninterrupted. Continuity is nature's seal ; violent accidents
produce discontinuity. Accident has often been aflSrmed to
place inseparable difficulties in the path of physiognomy ; but
what can be more easily discovered than such accidents ? How
visible are the distortions occasioned by the small pox ! How
apparent are the consequences, in general, of wounds, falls,
and similar violence ! I own I have known people who, in
consequence of a fall in their youth, have become idiots, yet
no tokens of the fall were to be seen ; imbecility, however, was
very remarkable in the countenance, and in the most essential
form of the head : the extension of the hinder part of the
head had apparently been prevented by the fall. The physi-
ognomist, therefore, in all countenances which he would study,
should inform himself of their nature and education.
12.
I do not say the physiognomist should finally determine by
a single sign ; I only say it is sometimes possible. There are,
sometimes, single, decisive, characteristic traits, as well of
general inclination, as of, individual passions: there are fore-
heads, noses, lips, eyes, which singly, betoken strength, weak-
ness, ardour, phlegm, acuteness, dulness, wrath, or revenge,
as far as they express certain other determinate parts. Yet,
however I may recommend it to the friend of physiognomy not
to neglect the smallest single trait of the countenance, never
can I, too often, too earnestly repeat — combine the whole,
compare each with each, examine the whole of nature, the
160 THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
form, the complexion, the bones, the muscles, the flexibility,
inflexibility, motion, position, gait, voice, manners, actions,
love, hatred, passions, weeping, laughing, humour, fancy,
anger. — Neglect no single part ; but again combine the single
with the general. Learn, likewise, to distinguish the natural
from the factitious, the peculiar from the borrowed. Where-
ever the factitious and the borrowed are assumed, there will
the power of assuming be found. This, by degrees, will enable
the student to determine what such countenance can assume,
what not. Certain countenances cannot assume gentleness,
nor can others violence and arrogance. — " All countenances
can be mild, all angry." — They can so ; but mildness is as
natural, or factitious, to some countenances, as wrath is to
others. Study the grand forms, the outlines of nature at
rest, and thence will be learned which of the innate, inde-
structible characters of mind are repugnant to- each other,
and which are impossible to exist in the same person ; har-
mony will be discovered where discord is generally supposed ;
and till this is discovered, man remains to the student undis-
covered. Deductions from one to two, from two to three,
and, thus, to greater numbers, wiU follow. The mouth will
be known by the words, the words by the mouth ; the style
from the forehead, the forehead from the style. — That is to
say, not what any one shall generally speak, write, or per-
form ; but what he can, or cannot. How a man will, in
general, act in given circumstances ; his manner^and tone. —
Thus shall the student be enabled to describe the circle by
which the form he studied is circumscribed, in which it may
stand, and act the part allotted, well or ill.
13.
Important to the student are cer^in precious moments for
observation.
The moment of sudden, unforeseen, unprepared meeting.
The moments of welcome, and farewell.
The moment antecedent to the impetuous burst of passion ;
the moment of it subsiding ; especially when interrupted by
the entrance of some respectable person. The power of dissi-
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 161
mulation, and the still remaining traces of passion are then
displayed.
The moment of compassion and emotion ; of weeping and
anger of the soul ; of envy and of friendship. The moment,
especially, of the greatest degree of tranquillity, and of pas-
sion ; when the man is entirely himself, or entirely forgets
himself. These combined inform the physiognomist what the
man is, what he is not, what he can, what he cannot be.
14.
Examine the superiority of one countenance over another.
Although the Father of the world has made of one blood " all
the nations of the earth," yet the natural equality of men is
one of the most unpardonable errors of affected benevolence
and phlegmatic enthusiasm.
Each created being, animate or inanimate, rules over mil-
lions, and is subject to millions. It must rule, and it must be
subject. It is by nature impelled to both. Endeavour, there-
fore, to discover the innate, divine, incomniunicable, insepara-
ble, superiority and inferiority of every organized body, and
accurately to define and compare its outlines. Compare the
strongest with the weakest, incessantly ; a certain number of
outlines of the more powerful, with an equal number of the
yielding, the subjected. Having obtained the extremes, the
intermediate proportions will be easily found. I cannot too
often repeat, let the student seek and he will find, with mathe-
matical precision, the proportions of the imperative and the
obsequious forehead, the sovereign and- the slavish nose.
15.
Be it continually remembered that like countenances like
characters ; — like foreheads like countenances ; at least, in
the general form. Let the student, therefore, on every oppor-
tunity, examine and compare resembling men, resembling
skulls, countenances, foreheads, and features.
16.
When the physiognomist finds a man endowed with the
M
lt)2 THE STUDY OP PHYSIOGNOMY.
rarest of all rare gifts, the gift of unaffected, critical atten-
tion ; who never answers before he understands the. question,
wTio is decided, yet seldom decides ; let him study this man,
and his features and traits, individually. The understanding,
worth, and power of a man will be defined by his degree of
attention. He who cannot listen can perform nothing deserv-
ing the name of true wisdom and virtue. The attentive, on
the contrary, are • capable of all of which man ought to be
capable. Such an attentive countenance will itself supply the
student with an index, by which to discover the best properties
of innumerable men.
A man, also, when he removes a thing, or presents it to
another, and earnestly fixes his eyes, without constraint, upon
the person to which it is presented, is most deserving to be
studied. Trifles often decide much concerning the character
of the man. The manner of taking, holding, or returning a
tea-cup, is frequently very significant. It may be affirmed that
whoever can perform the smallest office, with entire circum-
spection, is CJ^pable of much greater.
17.
The student who has discovered the following features, each
distinctly excellent and marking, and all combined with pro-
portion, may rest assured he has discovered a countenance
almost preternatural.
a A striking symmetry between the three principal features
of the face ; the forehead, nose, and chin.
b A forehead that ends horizontally, consequently eyebrows
nearly horizontal, bold, and compressed.
c Eyes of a clear blue, or clear brown, that at a little dis-
tance appear black, with the upper eyehd covering about a
fourth or a fifth part of the pupil.
d The ridge of the nose broad, almost straight, but some-
what bent,
e A mouth, in its general form, horizontal ; the upper lip
of which, and the middle line in the centre, is gently, but
somewhat deeply, sunken : the under lip not larger than the
upper.
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 163
f A round projecting chin.
g Short, dark brown, curly hair, in large divisions.
18.
In order accurately to observe the countenance, it must be
seen in full, in three-fourths, in seven-eights, in profile, and
from top to bottom. The eyes should first be closed, and so
remain for some time, and should afterwards be opened. The
whole countenance discovers too much at the first view; it
therefore should be separately examined in all its aspects.
19.
With respect to copying after nature, busts, paintings, or
prints, I constantly, and earnestly, advise the physiognomist
to draw outlines only, and not to shade, that he may acquire
that dexterity which is so indispensable : also to acquire the
habit of defining perplexities, interminglings, intershadings, all
that is apparently indeterminate : to learn to select, to ima-
gine, and to portray them individually. I know that all those
painters who are not physiognomists, and cannot draw, will
exclaim against such a practice ; yet is this, and will ever re-
main, the only practice which, for the designer as well as for
the physiognomist, unites all the advantages of facility, preci-
sion, perspicuity, instruction, and many others. The well
known passions of Le Brun are certain proofs of its advantages.
20.
Oil paintings, when perfect, are the most useful to the phy-
siognomist ; but this they are so seldom, and when perfect are
so expensive, that a royal treasure is requisite for their pur-
chase. Drawings in black chalk are the most useless. I would
advise the physiognomist neither to copy them nor miniature
pictures. They will acquire perhaps what is called a free and
picturesque manner, but it will be wholly indeterminate, con-
sequently untrue, and unnatural. I have hitherto found no-
thing equal to the English black lead pencil, retouched by
Indian ink, to express the physiognomonical character of the
countenance, round, picturesque, powerful, and precise. The
1C4 THE STUDY OP PHYSIOGNOMY,
chamber should be darkened, and the aperture by which Hght
is admitted round, not more than one foot in diameter, and
about three or four feet higher than the person to be drawn,
on whom the light should fall somewhat obliquely. This, after
repeated experiment, I find to be one of the most easy, pic-
turesque, and characteristic methods of taking the countenance
It might perhaps be as well to let the light fall perpendicularly
on some faces ; but this should only be for the flat and tender
featured ; the shades of prominent features would be too
powerful. A camera obscura, also, which should diminish the
head thus enlightened about three-fourths, might in this case
be serviceable, not immediately to draw by, because motion
would render this impracticable, but the better to compare the
drawing to the true figure on the instrument.
21.
I might advise the reading of books on physiognomy, and,
could I, with a good conscience, I so most willingly would. —
My advice is, that the student should dedicate a fortnight to
peruse them once through. After mature examination, let
him select the most precise of their positions. Having read
two or three, we may be said to have read them all ; Porta,
among the old writers, and Peuschel and Pernetty, among the
more modern, having collected most that has been said. The
first good, bad, and indifferent ; doctrines that are self-contra-
dictory. All that Aristotle, Pliny, Suetonius, Polemon, Ada-
mantinus, Galen, Trogus Conciliator, Albertus, Scotus, Male-
this, Avicenna, and many others of his predecessors, have
written, is to be found in this author, one opinion after another,
like beads strung on a rosary. Yet, he sometimes judges for
himself, and renders his judgments more interesting, more
worthy attention that those of his predecessors, by giving en-
gravings of well-known countenances : nor is he so bigoted to
astrology as they are, although he has not conquered such silly
prejudices. Peuschel, and still more Pernetty, have essentially
served physiognomy, by banishing many gross absurdities.
Their writings contain little that is original, and are far from
accurately defining the traits of the countenance, without
THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 166
which, physiognomy must remain the most useless of all
crude sciences. The Physiognomonica Medicinalis of Hel-
vetius deserves to be read for the incomparable manner
in which some of the principal temperaments are characte-
rized. His planetary influence excepted, he will be found
masterly.
Huart also merits reading, though his work is indigested,
and replete with hypothesis. He has extracted what was most
valuable in Aristotle, Galen, and Hippocrates, and added his
own remarks, made with accuracy. These, however, are but
thinly scattered. Philip May contains little that is useful.
The penetrating Chambre is much more valuable, and has been
particularly fortunate in defining the passions; but he has
given no physiognomonical outlines or drawings.
The countenance of Ab Indagine is of much more terrific
appearance than his book, which, though mostly copied after
others, merits to be read. Marbitius " De varietate faciei
humanse discursus physjcus, Dresd. 1676," 4to., is a wretched
dauber, who has not above half a do^en original thoughts. A
modem writer seems to have borrowed one of his most foolish
projects, that of composing and decomposing the countenance,
as printers do the alphabet. Parson, happily abridged by
Buffon, and Haller in his Physiology, is, notwithstanding his
imperfections, one of the most classical and best of writers, on
what relates, to the motion of the mi^scles, and the passions of
the countenance, I shall now mention — ahsil blasphemia dido
— Jacob Behmen-^Iaugh who will ; the serisations, the feel-
ings, the language of nature, perhaps, no man more eminently
possessed than this unintelligible Theosoph. — He has left
traces in his vsritings of the most profound physiognomonical
sensation, Not that I will therefore recommend his writings
to the philosophical physiognomist ; though I will recommend
his little book on the four complexions, to all who do not despise
the pearl in the dunghill.
I hold Gulielmus Gratarolus, physician of Bergamo, to be
one of the physiognomists most deserving of attention; and
recommend his book, particularly, for its richness and its bre-
vity. Its title is, " De prsedictione morum naturarumque ho-
166 tHE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY.
minum facili, cum ex inspectione vultus, aliarumque corporis
partium, turn aliis modis."
Of all the writers on physiognomy of the last century, Seipio
Claramontius is certainly far the best, most learned, most wor
thy to be read, and the least of a compiler. His knowledge
was great, his judgment accurate, and his decisions acute, yet
concise. His book, " De conjectandis cujusque moribus et
latitantibus animi affectibus," deserves,' if not to be wholly
translated, at least to be abridged, and published with remarks
and additions. Much is wanting to the work, though it is
more rich in materials than any preceding one with which I
am acquainted. It is not without numerous inaccuracies,
which he has copied ; but whoever is acquainted with his pre-
decessors, and is capable of comparing them, will wonder to find
him so frequently, and so truly, original. In the very places
where he is deficient, I always find thought and penetration ;
and, notwithstanding he is scholastic and methodical, I seldom
find him dry, superficial, or other' than meritorious. Merit is
so often wanting in modern writers, on and against physiog-
nomy, that wherever I find it free from affectation and preten-
sion, it gives me delight ; and this merit, open it where we will,
is found in the book of Claramontius. He is not a mere scho-
lar, a recluse ; his physiognomonical knowledge is united with
a comprehensive, moral, and political knowledge of mankind ;
he accustomed himself to apply general rules to particular
causes and circumstances ; he has happily interwoven his asto-
nishing learning with his observations and calculations ; he has
discovered the signs of the passions with much penetration, as
well by his knowledge of books as of men, and has explained
his remarks with equal perspicuity: and I recommend him,
from conviction, to the student of men, and, especially, of the
characters and mental qualities of man.
22.
A considerable selection of the most remarkable and signifi
cant countenances is absolutely necessary to the physiognomist.
I shall insert the names of those which I would especially re-
commend, at the conclusion of this fragment, and every collec-
THE STDDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 1G7
(ion of prints will readily supply an augmentation. The list
will contain none but such as I have myself seen, and copied
for my own purpose, from a collection to which I have access,
each of which, individually deserves a commentary, and to be
compared with others similar and dissimilar. I can but give
their names, with the certainty that whoever is possessed of a
physiognomonical eye, cannot have once glanced over such a
collection, without having considerably strengthened his dis-
cernment. Whoever shall compare and study their characters,
history, acts, and writings, with their countenances, can
scarcely examine one attentively without discovering new prin-
ciples of physiognomy. I have to thank these heads for a great
part of such knowledge as I possess.
23.
Converse v/ith the wisest and best men, who, to thousands,
are but like a sealed book, a pearl hid in a field. Such con-
versation is, to the student of physiognomy, the most indis-
pensable of all indispensable things. He, whose philanthropic
eye, with unenvious simplicity and angelic rapture, seeks per-
fection, turn where he will, it will be met ; it will be found
where he seeks, and where he does not seek. His God will
shine visible in thousands of human forms. The expectation
of this will open his eyes to behold what no man beholds till it
is shown him, and what every man beholds when shown.
U.
To the student I once more repeat, judge but seldom, how-
ever importuned by those who wish stupidly to wonder at, or
to render this science ridiculous. Turn calmly, but deter-
minedly, from indiscreet curiosity. He who is overcome by
foolish importunity, acts foolishly. Error may follow, how-
ever guarded the expression ; and, if it should, ridicule will
be as insolent and unlimited as if he who has mistaken had
affirmed it was impossible he should mistake.
This, noble Count, is part of that muc/i which may be said.
I envy not him whose knowledge or whose language may be
superior to mine. Adieu.
168
ADDITION.
For the ease of such of our readers who have something
more than curiosity to gratify, the following list of remarkable
countenances is to aid those who wish to search, observe, and
compare.
Abrissel, Charles Adolphus. Agrippa, Cornelius. Albert I. Albert,
Duke of Friesland. Albinus. Alexander VIII. Amherst, Jeffery. An-
hold. Anson, Lord. ApoUonius. Aumllarius, Daniel. Aretine, Peter.
Aretine, Anthony. Aretine, Rosel. Argulus, Andreas. Arnaud, Anthony.
Balseus, Johannes. Bandinelli. Bankest, Admiral. Barbarin. Bar-
bieri. Baricellus, Julius Cassar. Bastius, Henry. Bayle. Becker,
Balthazar. Bellarmin. Benedict XIV. Bengel. Berthold V. Berghe,
Von. Bernard, Henry, Duke of Saxe Weimar. Bernini. Beaulieu,
James. Beza. Bidloo. Boileau. Boromaeus. Bourbon, Anthony.
Bourbon, the Constable. Boxhorn. Bracket, Theophrastus. Briighel.
Bronkh, Vonder. Brutus. Briissel. Buchanan. Buddeus, William.
BourduUe, Peter. Burman, Peter. Butler, Samuel. Cachiopin, James.
Caesar, Julius. Caldara. Caligula. CaUu, James. Calvin. Camera-
rius. Canisius. Cavistus. Charles I. King of England. Charles V.
Charles XII. and IX. of Sweden. Caracci. Carravache. Casaubon.
Casimir, King of Poland. Cassini. Castaldus, Caylus, Celsus. Cham-
paigne. Cicero. Cholet. Christina II. Clark. Clauberg, John. Cle-
ment VII. Clement VIII. Cocceius. Coddaeus, Peter. Colbert.
Cook. Commines, PhiUp de. Condern, Charles. Coligni, Admiral.
Crato, John. Copernicus. Cornelissen, Anthony. Corneille. Caspran,
Philip. Cromwell. Cuspinianus. Democritus. Demosthenes. Derby,
Charles, Earl of. Descartes. Dieu, Ludovieus de. Doionus, Nicholas
Drusius. Dryden. Dubois. Dyck, John van- Durer. Elizabeth,
Queen of England. Enfant, James de 1'. Erasmus. Espernon. Evre-
mont, St. Fabricius, Ludovieus. Ferdinand I. Fevre, Nicholas Le.
Fielding, Henry. Fischer, John. Fleury, Cardinal de. Florisz, Peter.
Foix, Gaston de. Fontaine, La. Foressus, Petrus. Foster. Frangi-
panis, Cornelius. Frank, Francis, Frank, Francis the younger. Francis
I., King of France. Frederic William, Elector. Frederic II., King of
Prussia. Frederic III. Frederic IV. Fries, Admiral. Fugger, Henry.
Galen. Gambold. Gardin, Gabriel de. Garnier. Geader. Gess, Cor-
nelius van der. Gentilefri, Horace. Geritaw, Robert. Germanicus.
Gessner, Albert. Gessner, Conrad. Gessner, John. Gevartius, Caspe.
rius. Geyler, John. Goclenius. Goldoni. Goltzius. Gonzaga. Gra^
ADDITION. 169
ham. Graevius, Daniel. Grotius, Hugo. Grunbuelt, Arnold. Grynaeus.
Gusman, Philip. Gustavus Adolphus. Guijon. Hagedron. Hagebuck
HaEer, Berthold. Harder, James. Hamilton. Harduin, Archbishop
Harcom-t. Hebenstreit. Henry H. Henry IV. Henry VIII. Herwig.
Helmont, John Baptist van. Helvetius. Heydan, Abraham. Holbein,
Hans. Homer. Hondius, WiUiam. Home, John. Hosennestel, Abra-
ham. Houbraken. Howard, Thomas. Hutten, Ulrich von. Janin,
Peter. Indagine, John Ab. Innocent X. Jode, Peter. John, son of
Rudolph II. Johnson, Samuel. Isabella, Eugenia. Junius, Robert.
Junius, Adrian. Junker, John. Karschnin. Kilian. Kircher. Knel-
ler. Sir Godfrey. Knipperdolling. Kraft, Frederic. Kupesky. Labadie.
Lactantius. Lanwe, Christopher van der. Lanfranc, John. Langecius,
Hermannus. Lavater, Ludwig. Leibnitz. Leo X. Leopold I. Ley-
den, Lucas van. Linguet. Lithoust. Liorus, John. Locke. Lotichius
Petrus. Lorrain, Charles V. of. Longueval, Charles of. Loyola. Lud-
low. Ludwig, Edm. Count Palatine. Louis XIII. Louis XIV. Luther.
Lutma, Janus. Lulli. Lucius Verus. Malherbe. Mansfeld. Marl-
borough. MarUlac, Louis de. Maraldi. Marlort. Marot. Marthe, St.
Mattheson. Matthias I. Maximilian I. Maximilian II. Mazarine.
Meinuccius, Raphael. Meiigre, John. Melai^chthon. Mercurialis, Hie-
ronjntnus. Merian, Matthew. Mettrie, La. Meyr, Wilham. Michael,
Sebastian. Michael Angelo. Mignard. Milton. Moliere. Molinaeus
Mompel, Louis de. Monami, Peter. Moncade, Francis de. Montanus.
Montague. Montesquieu. Montmorency, Henry, Duke of. Morgagni.
Momey. Moruel. Moulin, Charles du. Muschenbroek. Muntzer,
Thomas. Nassau, Amalia. Nassau, Frederic Henry. Nassau, John.
Nassau, William Louis. Nero. Niger, Antonius. Noort, Adam.
Newton. Oddus d? Oddis. Orange, Maria. Osterman, Peter. Oster-
wald. Osman, Williani. Ottoman. Palamedes, Palamedessen. Para-
celsus, Theophrastus. Parma, Famesius de. Pascal. Patin, Charles.
Patin, Guido. Paul V. Pauw, Regner. Pieresc, Fabricius. Pehcan.
Pehsse. Pepin, Martin. Perrault, Claude. Perera, Emanuel Frocas.
Peruzzi. Peter Martyr. Peter I, Petit, John Louis. Petri, Rodolph.
Philip the Good. Philip the Bold. Planus. Pithou, Francis. Plato
Pope. Porta. Ptolemy, Claudius. Puteanus, Ericus. Putnam, Israel.
Quesnel. Uuesnoy. Raphael. Rabelais, Francis. Razenstein, Henry,
Retz, Cardinal de. Rhenferd, James. Rhyne, William. Ricciardi,
Thomas. Richelieu. Rigaud. Rombouzt, Theodore. Ronsard.
Rouse, Gerard. Rubens. Rudolph II. Rufus. Ruysch. Savanarola.
Schmidt von Schwartzenhorn. Scjilichius, George. Saurin. Savoy,
Thomas Francis de. Savoy, Francis Thomas de. Savoy, Charles
Emanuel de Sachtleven, Cornelius. Sachs, Hans. Schramm, George
Gotlieb. Sebizius. Seghers, Gerhard. Segers, Gerard. Seba, Albert.
Skadey. Scarron. Scaglia, Csesar Alexander. Sixtus V. Sortia.
Scuderi, Magdelaine de. Schwenkfeld Schutt, Cornelius. Scheuch-
170 ON PORTRAIT PAINTING.
zer, James. Schoepflin, Daniel. Schorer, Leonard. Socrates. Son'
nenfels. Sophocles. Sorbon. Spanheim, Frederic. Spener, Philip
James. Spinosa. Sturm von Sturmegg. Sayra, Abb^. Seide, Francis.
Swift. Schuil. Tabourin, Thomas. Tassis, Anthony. Taulems, John.
Tindal. Titian. Titus. Thou, Gerard de. Thou, Augustus de.
Thourneuser, Leonard. Thoyras, Rapin de. Thuanus. Thoulouse,
Montchal de. Uden, Lucas von. Uladislaus VL Uladislauj, King of
Poland. Ulrich, James. Ursius, Honorius. Ursinus. Valette. Van-
loo. Warin, John. "Wasener, James. Weiss, Leonard of Augsburg.
Werenfels. Vesalius. Vespasian. Vespucius, Americus. Viaud.Theo-
philusde. Wildes, John. William, King of England. Villeroy, Marquis.
Willis, Richard. Wurtemherg, Everard, Duke oif. Vitrii, Anthony.
Wolf, Christian. Volkammer, George. Voltaire. With, Conrad.
Vopper, Leonard. Vorster, Lucas. Voss, Simon. Vouet. Zampier.
Zinzendorf. Zuinglius. Ziska, John.
ON PORTRAIT PAINTING.
The most natural, manly, useful, noble, and, however ap-
parently easy, the most difficult of arts is portrait painting.
Love first discovered this heavenly art. Without love what
could it perform ? — But what love ? — ^And the lover — who I
Since a great part of the present work, and the scienqe on
which it treats, depend on this art, it is proper that something
should be said on the subject. — Something — for how new,
how important, and great a work might be written on this
art ! For the honour of man, and of the art, I hope such a
work will be written. I do not think it ought to be the work
of a painter, however great in his profession, but of the under-
standing friend of physiognomy, the man of taste, the daily
confidential observer of the great portrait painter. — Sultzer,
that philosopher of taste and discernment, has an excellent
article, in his dictionary, on this subject, under the word por-
trait. But- what can be said, in a work so confined, on a sub-
ject so extensive ?
Again, whoever will employ his thoughts on this art, will
find that it is sufficient to exercise all the searching, all the
active powers of man ; that it never can be entirely learned,
nor ever can arrive at ideal perfection.
I will endeavour to recapitulate some of the avoidable and
ON PORTRAIT PAI.NTING. 171
unavoidable difficiJties attendant on this art. The knowledge
of these, in my opinion, is most necessary, as well to the
painter as to the physiognomist.
What is portrait painting ? It is the communication, the
preservation of the image of some individual, or of some part
of the body of an individual : the art of suddenly depicting all
that can be depicted of that half of man which is rendered
apparent, and which never can be conveyed in words.
If what Gcithe has some\yhere said be true, and in my
opinion nothing can be more true, that — the best text for a
commentary on man is his presence, his countenance, his form
— how important then is the art of portrait painting ;
To this observation of Gbthe's, I will add a passage on the
subject, from Sultzer's excellent dictionary.
" Since no object of knowledge whatever can be more im-
portant to us than a thinking and feeling soul, it cannot be
denied but that man, considered according to his form, even
though we should neglect what is wonderful in him, is the
most important of visible objects."
Were the portrait painter to know, to feel, to be penetrated
with this ; penetrated with reverence for the greatest work of
the greatest master ; were such the subject of his meditation,
not from constraint, but native sensation ; were it as natural
to him as the love of life, how important, how sacred to him,
would his art become ! — Sacred to him should be the living
countenance as the text of holy scripture to the translator.
As careful should the one be not to falsify the work, as should
the other not to falsify the word of God.
How great is the contempt which a wretched translator of
an excellent work deserves, whose mind is wholly inferior to
the mind of his original. — And is it not the same with the
portrait painter ! The countenance is the theatre on which
the soul exhibits itself; here must its emanations be studied
and caught. . Whoever cannot seize these emanations cannot
paint, and whoever cannot paint these is no portrait painter.
" Each perfect portrait is an important painting, since it
displays the human mind with the peculiarities of personal
character. In such we contemplate a being in which under-
172 ON POKTEAIT PAINTING.
standing, inclinations, sensations, passions, good and bad
qualities of mind and heart, are mingled in a manner peculiar
to itself. We here see them better, frequently, than in na-
ture herself; since in nature nothing is fixed, all is swift, all
transient. In nature, also, we seldom behold the features
under that propitious aspect in which they will be transmitted
by the able painter."
Could we indeed seize the fleeting transitions of nature, or
had she her moments of stability, it would then be much more
advantageous to contemplate nature than her likeness; but,'
this being impossible, and since likewise few people will suffer
themselves to be observed sufficiently to deserve the name of
observation, it is to nie indisputable that a better knowledge
of man may be obtained from portraits than from nature, she
being thus uncertain, thus fugitive.
" Hence the rank of the portrait painter may easily be de-
termined; he stands next to the painter of history. Nay,
history painting itself derives a part of its value froni its por-
traits : for expression, one of the most important requisites in
historical painting, will be the more estimable, natural, and
strong, the more of actual physiognomy is expressed in the
countenances, and copied a,fter nature, A collection of excel-
lent portraits is highly advantageous to the historical painter
for the study of expression."
Where is the historical painter who can represent real beings
with all the decorj^tions of fiction ? Do we not see them aU
copying copies ? True it is they frequently copy from imagina-
tion ; but this imagination is only stored with the fashionable
figures of their own or former times.
This premised, let us now enumerate some of the surmount-
able difficulties of portrait painting. I am conscions the free-
dom with which I shall speak my thoughts will offend, yet to
give offence is far from my intention. I wish to aid, to teach
that art which is the imitation of the works of God ; I wish
improvement. And how is improvement possible without a
frank and undisguised discovery of defects I
In all the works of portrait painters which I have seen,
I have remarked the want of a more philosophical, that is
ON PORTRAIT PAINTING. ] 73
to say, a more just, intelligible, and universal knowledge of
men.
The insect painter who has no accurate knowledge of insects,
the form, the general, the particular, which is appropriated to
each insect, however good a copyist he may be, will certainly
be a bad painter of insects. The portrait painter, however
excellent a copyist (a thing much less general than is imagined
by connoisseurs), will paint portraits ill, if he have not the most
accurate knowledge of the form, proportion, connexion, and
dependence of the great and minute parts of the human body,
as far as they have a remarkable influence on the superficies ;
if he have not investigated, most accurately, each individual
member and feature. For my own part, be my knowledge
what it may, it is far from accurate in what relates to the
minute specific traits of each sensation, each member, each
feature ; yet I daily remark that this acute, this indispensable
knowledge, is every where, at present, uncultivated, unkno;^!!,
and difficult to convey to the most intelligent painters.
Whoever will be at the trouble of considering a number of
men, promiscuously taken, feature by feature, will find that
each ear, each mouth, notwithstanding their infinite diversity,
have yet their small curves, corners, characters, which are
common to all, and which are found stronger or weaker, more
or less marking, in all men, who are not monsters born ; at
least, in these parts.
Of what advantage is all our knowledge of the great pro-
portions of the body and countenance ? (Yet even that part
of knowledge is, by far, not sufficiently studied, not sufficiently
accurate. Some future physiognomonical painter will justify
this assertion, till when be it considered as nothing more than
cavil.) Of what advantage, I say, is all our Imowledge of the
great proportions, when the knowledge of the finer traits, which
are equally true, general, determinate, and no less significanf,
is wanting ? and this want is so great, that 1 appeal to those
who are best informed, whether many of the ablest painters,
who have painted numerous portraits, have any tolerably ac-
curate, or general theory of the mouth only ; I do not mean
the anatomical mouth, but the mouth of the painter, which he
174 ON PORTRAIT PAINTING.
ought to see, and may see, without any anatomical know-
ledge.
Let us examine volume after volume of engravings of por-
traits, after the greatest masters. I have examined, therefore
am entitled to speak. Let us confine observation to the mouth,
having previously studied infants, boys, youth, manhood, old
age, maidens, wives, matrons, with respect to the general pro-
perties of the mouth ; and having discovered these, let us
compare, and we shall find that almost all painters have failed
in the general theory of the mouth ; that it seldom happens,
and seems only to happen by accident, that any master has
understood these general properties. Yet how indescribably
much depends on them ! What is the particular, what the
characteristic, but shades of the general ? As it is with the
mouth so is it with the eyes, eyebrows, nose, and each part
of the countenance. The same proportion exists between the
great features of the face ; and as there is this general pro-
portion in all countenances, however various, so is there a
similar proportion between the small traits of these parts. —
Infinitely varied are the great features, in their general com-
bination and proportion ; as infinitely varied are the shades of
the small traits, in these features, however great their general
resemblance. Without an accurate knowledge of the propor-
tion of the principal features, as, for example, of the eyes and
mouth, to each other, it must ever be mere accident, and ac-
cident that indeed rarely happens, when such proportion exists
in the works of the painter. Without an accurate knowledge
of the particular constituent parts, and traits of each principal
feature, I once again repeat, it must be accident, miraculous
accident, should any one of them be justly delineated.
This remark may induce the reflecting artist to study nature
intimately, by principle, and to show him, if he be in search
o'f permanent fame, that, though he ought to behold and study
the works of the greatest masters with esteem and reverence,
he yet ought to examine and judge for himself. Let him not
make the virtue modesty his plea, for under this does omni-
present mediocrity shelter itself. Modesty, indeed, is not so
properly virtue as the garb and ornament of virtue, and of
ON PORTRAIT PAINTINO. 175
existing positive power. Let him, I say, examine for himself,
and study nature, in whole and in part, as if no man ever had
observed, or ever should observe, but himself. Deprived of this,
j'oung artist, thy glory will but resemble a meteor's blaze ; it
will only be founded on the ignorance of thy contemporaries.
The majority of the best portrait painters, when most suc-
cessful, like the majority of physiognomists, content them-
selves with expressing the character of the passions in the
moveable, the muscular features of the face. They do not un-
deretand, they laugh at rules which prescribe the grand outline
of the countenance as indispensable to portrait painting, inde-
pendent of the effects produced by the action of the muscles.
And till institutions shall be formed for the improvement
of portrait painting, perhaps till a physiognomonical society
or academy shall produce physiognomonical portrait painters,
we shall, at best, but creep in the regions of physiognomy,
where we might otherwise soar.
One of the greatest obstacles to physiognomy is the actual,
incredible, imperfection of this art.
There is generally a defect of eye, or hand of. the painter;
or the object is defective which is to be delineated ; or, per-
haps, all three. The artist cannot discover what is, or cannot
draw it when he discovers. The object continually alters its
position, which ought to be so exact, so continually the same ;
or should it not, and should the painter be endowed with an
all-observing eye, and all-imitative hand, still there is the last
insuperable difficulty, that of the position of the body, which
can but be momentary, which is constrained, false, and unna-
tural, when more than momentary.
What I have said is trifling indeed to what might be said.
According to the knowledge I have of it, this is yet unculti-
vated ground. How little has Sultzer himself said on the
subject ? But what could he say in a dictionary ! A work
wholly dedicated to this is necessary to examine and decide on
the works of the best portrait painters, and to insert all the
cautions and rules necessary for the young artist, in-conse-
quence of the infinite variety, yet incredible unifonnity, of the
human countenance.
176 ADDITIONS.
Whoever would paint portraits perfectly must so paint that
each spectator may, with truth, exclaim, This is indeed to
paint ! This is true, living likeness ; perfect nature ; it is
not painting! — Outline, form, proportion, position, attitude,
complexion, light and shade, freedom, ease, nature ! Nature !
Nature in every characteristic disposition ! Nature in the
whole ! Nature in the complexion, in each trait, in her most
beaiuteous, happiest moments, her most select, most propitious
state of mind ; near, at a distance, on every side, Truth and
Nature ! Evident to all men, all ages, the ignorant and the
connoisseur, most conspicuous to him who has most know-
ledge ; no suspicion of art ; a countenance in a mirror, to
which we would speak, that spealcs to us, that contemplatea
more than it is contemplated ; we rush to it, we embrace it-,
we are enchanted I —
Emulate such excellence, young artist, and the least of thy
attainments, in this age, will be riches and honour, a;nd~fame
in futurity ; with tears shalt thou receive the thanks of father,
friend, and husband, and thy works shall honour that Being
whose creations it is the noblest gift of man to imitate, only in
their superficies, and during a single instant of their existence.
ADDITIONS.
PLATE XXIII.
Fig. 1. — Thus drawn, thus prominent, ought the counte-
nance to be which the physiognomist is to read. Form and
traits, all and each, are determinate. — Hard perhaps — ^but- v\ith
all possible harmony. ' - /
No false pretender; worthy, faithful, regular, benevolent.
More than the dry hardness of the mouth betokens these. Such
is this sanguine-phlegmatic countenance — capacity, love of
order, resolution, fit for active life, sensation for the beautiful,
the accurate, the highly-finished. No artist, but very- capable
of being one.
Fig. 2. — The shade more significant than the full face, which
has been composed, feature after feature, at various times, by
ADDITIONS, 177.
the artist, who, without preserving the character, has thus de-
stroyed the effect of the whole. Both, however, are expressive
of a good, an honest, and an active man ; but who, with eye
actually so dull, could have but little penetration. The nose,
in the shade, has more poetry, and the under part of the
countenance more nobility, than are perceptible in the por-
trait. The mouth in the profile has pecuhar youthful inno-
cence.
Fig. S. — An observing mind with a ban-en imagination.
Thus ought every countenance of this character to be drawn,
the eyes especially, in order to be known. The forehead too
flat for an original thinker; receives much, produces little.
Ardour and active industry are here sought in vain, but the
love of inoffensive ridicule may be easily discovered.
Fig. 4. — The original of this highly characteristic head —
Colla — ^might probably have become one of the greatest phy-
siognomonical painters. Though almost uninstructed, he was
one of the most original imitators of unimpassioaed nature.
The gloominess of his character, and even of his chamber,
communicated that gloom which is visible in his paintings.
The eye is not rapid, but disposed to a calm, successive, ana-
tomizing inspection of its object. The unassuming mouth
overflows with phlegmatic goodness. The whole, in general,
is tinged with susceptibility of mild, religious enthusiasm. Pro-
minent features, daring touches, are not to be expected from
such a countenance. It delighted in that silent, slow progres-
sion, which leaves nothing incomplete.
Pig. 5. — A portrait by Colla, which, without having seen the
original, we may affirm to be a great likeness. Nature, pre-
cision, harmony, exactness, are discoverable in every part.
The flat, somewhat sinking forehead, agreeable to the whole,
denotes an unpolished person, confined within a small circle of
domestic economy. The strong eyebrows do not speak men-
tal, but bodily power. Eyebrows are only significant of the
former when they are unperplexed, equal, and well disposed.
Nose, chin, neck, hair, all are characteristic of rude, narrow
insensibility. Rustic sincerity is evident in the mouth.
Fig. 6. — Not so well drawn and engraved as the foregoing,
178 ADDITIONS.
but of a character entirely opposite. Sensible, mild, peace-
able, void of rude harshness, capable of the bfest improvement,
half cultivated, might be wholly a lover of neatness and order,
all eye, all ear — mildness and regularity are conspicuous in the
mouth.
Fig. 7. — This scarcely can be supposed a likeness ; it cer-
tainly is not a copy of any common original. Such outlines,
though sketched by the greatest masters, can seldom be true
to nature, yet will not be entirely missed by the most inferior.
However indifferent the drawing may be, this must ever re-
main the countenance of a great, a thinking, orderly, analyzing
man, of refined taste. The eye, somewhat distorted in drawT
ing, is rather that of the visionary than the man of deep
thought. Far from idly conforming to fashion, his feelings
will be the dictates of reason. The lips are too much cut, too
insipid for this powerful chin and nose, this thoughtful fore-
head, this comprehensive, noble back of the head. Such
countenances should generally be drawn in profile, the better to
understand their character ; though characteristic they wiU
always be in all possible situations.
Fig. 8. — ^Another countenance of a thinker, an analyzer,
yet far from having the proportjon of the former. Much less
rounded, less simple; to prove which, compare the forehead,
nose, taouth, and chin. The eye only is more ardent, enter-
prising, laborious. The whole character, without injury to
the friendly, benevolent mien, is more forcible, persevering,
and prompt, as may especially be seen in the forehead, nose,
and chin.
Fig. 9. — An original well-drawn countenance. Something
apparently wanting in the eyes and nostrils. We do not ex-
pect poetry from the forehead, but an inventive, enquiring,
mechanical genius ; an unaffected, cheerful, pleasant man, un-
conscious of his superiority; the nose especially is characteristic
of an able, active, imwearied mind, labouring to good effect.
How excellent is the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the mouth.
Fig. 10. — A head after Vandyke, whether real or imaginary
is immaterial. It is delightful to look on such a countenance;
so boldly, so determinately sketched, with such incomparable
CONGENIALITY OF THK HUMAN FORM. 179
harmony and proportion. To whom is this imperceptible,
even in this imperfect copy ; or who does not here read the
great master; the countenance of power, energy, and heroism;
courageous and productive? Eyes and nose equally good;
such only as he who conceives and executes can possess.
The obliquity of the mouth is somewhat contradictory to the
eyes, nose, and whole countenance.
Fig. 11. — Another countenance most happily depicted, a
master-piece of harmony. — A man of comprehensive mind and
taste ; an eye of abundant sensibility, and properly judging on
works of art. A forehead more expressive of sound excellent
judgment, and ease of conception, than of profound under-
standing; but no Philistine of a connoisseur, encumbered
with all his accursed terms of art, has such a nose, with all
its mellowness and angular outlines.
Fig. 12. — Countenances of large strong features cannot be
better represented than after this manner. They seldom have
small shades. This I acknowledge. The less delicate, the
rude, the morose, are very conspicuous ; but physiognomy
should call our attention to what is least visible, what may
easily be overlooked. — True knowledge will never pronounce
this an absolutely common countenance. The forehead and
eyebrow are much above mediocrity. Though the upper part
of the eyelid be moderate, the line of the under that intersects
the pupil, is not so, nor is the look of the eye, or even the
outhne of the nose, especially at the tip. R»de as the un-
der lip may be, there is nothing in the outline of the chin
betokening want of understanding. Dry, joyless, cold, but
neither stupid nor weak. The top of the back part of the head
is certainly, from defect of drawing, too small, injurious to the
countenance, and contradictory to the eyebrow.
OF THE CONGENIALITY OF THE HUMAN FORM.
In organization, nature continually acts from within to
without, from the centre to the circumference. The same
vital powers that make the heart beat give the finger motion :
that which roofs the skull arches the finger nail. Art is at
180
THE CONGENIALITY
variance with itself; not so nature. Her creation is progres-
sive. From the head to the back, from the shoulder to the
arm, from the arm to the hand, from the hand to the finger,
from the root to the stem, the stem to the branch, the branch
to the twig, the twig to the blossom and fruit, each depends
on the other, and all on the root ; each is similar in nature
and form. No apple of one branch can, with all its proper-
ties, be the apple of another ; not to say of another tree.
There is a determinate effect of a determinate power.
Through all nature each determinate power is productive only
of such and such determinate effects. The finger of one body
is not adapted to the hand of another body. Each part of an
organized body is an image of the whole, has the character of
iihe whole. The blood in the extremity of the finger has the
character of the blood in the heart. The same congeniality
is found in the nerves, in the bones. One spirit lives in all.
Each member of the body is in proportion to that whole of
which it is a part. As from the length of the smallest member,
the smallest joint of the finger, the proportion of the whole,
the length and breadth of the body, may be found ; so also
may the form of the whole from the form of each single part.
When the head is long, all is long ; or round when the head
is round ; and square when it is square. One form, one mind,
one root, appertain to all. Therefore is each organized body
so much a whole that, without discord, destruction, or de-
formity, nothing can be added or diminished. Every thing in
man is progressive ; every thing congenial ; form, stature,
complexion, hair, skin, veins, nerves, bones, voice, walk, man-
ner, style, passion, love, hatred. One and the same spirit is
manifest in all. He has a determinate sphere in which his
powers and sensations are allowed, within which they may be
freely exercised, but beyond which he cannot pivss. Each
countenance is, indeed, subject to momentary change, though
not perceptible, even in its solid parts ; but these changes are
all proportionate : each is measured, each proper, and peculiar
to the countenance in which it takes place. The capability of
change is limited. Even that which is afiected, assumed, imi-
tated, heterogeneous, still has the properties of the individual,
OF THE HDMAN FORM. 181
originating in the nature of the whole, and is so definite that
it is only possible in this, but in no other being.
I almost blush to repeat this in the present age. What,
posterity, wilt thou suppose, thus to see me obliged so often
to demonstrate, to pretended sages, that nature makes no
emendations ? She labours from one to all. Hers is not dis-
jointed organization ; not mosaic work. The more of the
mosaic there is in the works of artists, orators, or poets, the
less are they natural ; the less do they resemble the copious
streams of the fountain ; the stem extending itself to the
remotest branch.
The more there is of progression, the more is there of
truth, power, and nature : the more extensive, general, durable
and noble, is the effect. The designs of nature are the designs
of a moment. One form, one spirit, appear through the whole.
Thus nature forms her least plant, and thus her most exalted
man. I shall have effected nothing by my physiognomonical
labours if I am not able to destroy that opinion, so tasteless,
so unworthy of the age, so opposite to all sound philosophy,
that nature patches up the features of various countenances,
in order to make one perfect countenance ; and I shall think
them well rewarded if the congeniality, uniformity, and agree-
ment of human organization, be so demonstrated that he who
shall deny it wiU be declared to deny the light of the sun at
noon day.
The human body is a plant ; each part has the character of
the stem. Suffer me to repeat this continually, since this
most evident of all things is continually controverted, among
all ranks of men, in words, deeds, books, and works of art-
It is therefore that I find the greatest incongruities in the
heads of the greatest masters. I know no painter of whom I
can say he has thoroughly studied the harmony of the human
outline, not even Poussin ; no, not even Raphael himself.
Let any one class the forms of their countenances, -and com-
pare them with the forms of nature ; let him for instance draw
the outlines of their foreheads, and endeavour to find similar
outlines in nature, and he will find incongruities which could
not have been expected in such great masters.
182 THE CONGENIALITY
Excepting the too great length and extent, particularly of
his human figures, Chodowiecki, perhaps, had the most exact
feeling of congeniality, — in caricature ; that is to say, of the
relative propriety of the deformed, the humorous, or other
characteristical members and features ; for as there is con-
formity and congeniality in the beautiful, so is there also in
the deformed. Every cripple has the distortion peculiar to
himself, the effects of which are extended to his whole body.
In like manner, the evil actions of the evil, and the good
actions of the good, have a conformity of character ; at least
they are all tinged with this conformity of character. Little
as this seems to be remarked by poets and painters, still is
it the foundation of their art ; for wherever emendation is
visible, there admiration is at an end. Why has no painter
yet been pleased to place the blue eye beside the brown one ?
Yet, absurd as this would be, no less absurd are the incon-
gruities continually encountered by the physiognomonical eye.
— The nose of Venus on the head of a Madonna .^I have
been assured, by a man of fashion, that, at a masquerade, he,
with only the aid of an artificial nose, entirely concealed him-
self from the knowledge of all his acquaintance. So much
does nature reject what does not appertain to herself.
To render this indisputable, let a number of shades be
taken, and classed according to the foreheads. We will show
in its place, that all real and possible human foreheads may be
classed under certain signs, and that their classes are not
innumerable. Let him next class the noses, then the chins ;
then let him compare the signs of the noses and foreheads ;
and he will find certain noses are never found with certain
foreheads ; and, on the contrary, other certain foreheads are
always accompanied by a certain kind of noses ; and that the
same observation is true with respect to every other feature of
the face, unless the moveable features should have something
acquired which is not the work of the first formation and pro-
ductive power of nature, but of art, of accident, of constraint :
experiment will render this indisputable. As a preliminary
amusement for the inquiring reader, I shall add what follows.
Among a hundred circular forehea,ds, in profile, I have never
OF THE HUMAN FORM. 183
yet met with one Roman nose. In a hundred other square
foreheads I have scarcely found one in which there were not
cavities and prominences. I never yet saw a perpendicular
forehead, with strongly-arched features, in the lower part of
the countenance, the double chin excepted.
I meet no strong-bowed eyebrows '— ^ '^ combined with
bony perpendicular countenances.
Wherever the forehead is projecting, so, in general, are the
under lips, children excepted.
I have never seen gently arched, yet much retreating fore-
heads, combined with a short snub nose, which, in profile, is
sharp and sunken.
A visible nearness of the nose to the eye is always attended
by a visible wideness between the nose and mouth.
A long covering of the teeth, or, in other words, a long
space between the nose and mouth, always indicates small
upper lips. Length of form and face is generally attended by
weU-drawn, fleshy lips. I have many further observations in
reserve on this subject, which only are withheld till further
confirmation and precision are obtained. I shall produce but
one more example, which will convince all who possess acute
physiognomonical sensation, how great is the harmony of all
nature's forms, and how much she hates the incongruous.
Take two, three, or four shades of men, remarkable for
understanding, join the features so artificially that no defect
shall appear, as far as relates to the act of joining ; that is,
take the forehead of one, add the nose of a second, the mouth
of a third, the chin of a fourth, and the result of this combi-
nation of the signs of wisdom shall be folly. Folly is perhaps
nothing more than the annexation of some heterogeneous
addition. — " But let these four wise countenances be supposed
congruous V — Let them so be supposed, or as nearly so as pos-
sible, still their combination will produce the signs of folly.
Those, therefore, who maintain that conclusion cannot be
drawn from a part, from a single section of a profile, to the
whole, would be perfectly right if unarbitrary nature patched
up countenances like arbitrary art ; but so she does not. In-
deed, when a man, being born with understanding, becomes a
184 THE CONGENIALITY OP THE HUMAN FORM.-
fool, there expression of heterogeneousness is the consequence.
Either the lower part of the countenance extends itself, or the
eyes acquire a direction not conformable to the forehead, the
mouth cannot remain closed, or the features of the countenance,
in some other manner, lose their consistency. All becomes
discord ; and folly, in such a countenance, is very manifest. If
the forehead be seen alone it can only be said, " So much can,
or could, this countenance, by nature, unimpeded by accident."
But, if the whole be seen, the past and present general cha-
racter may be determined.
Let him who would study physiognomy study the relation of
the constituent parts of the countenance : not having studied
these he has studied nothing.
He, and he alone, is an accurate physiognomist, has the true
spirit of physiognomy, who possesses sense, feeling, and sympa-
thetic proportion of the congeniality and harmony of nature ;
and who hath a similar sense and feeling for aU emendations
and additions of art and constraint. He is no physiognomist
who doubts of the propriety, simplicity, and harmony of nature;
or who has not this physiognomonical essential ; who supposes
nature selects members, to form a whole, as a compositor in a
printing-house does letters to make up a word ; who can sup-
pose the works of nature are the patchwork of a harlequin
jacket. Not the most insignificant of insects is so compounded,
much less the most perfect of organized beings — ^man. He re-
spires not the breath of wisdom who doubts of this progression,
continuity, and simplicity of the structures of nature. He wants
a general feeling for the works of nature, consequently of art,
the imitator of nature. I shall be pardoned this warmth. It
is necessary. The consequences are infinite, and extend to all
things. He has the master-key of truth who has this sensation
of the congeniality of nature, and by necessary induction of the
human form.
All imperfection in works of ai-t, productions of the mind,
moral actions, errors in judgment ; all scepticism, infidelity,
and ridicule of religion, naturally originate in the want of this
knowledge and sensation. He soars above all doubt of the
Divinity and Christ who hath them, and who is conscious of this
ADDITIONS. ^ 185
congfeniality. He also who, at first sight, thoroughly under-
stands and feels the congeniality of the human form, and that
from the want of this congeniality arises the difference ob-
served between, the works of nature and of art, is superior to
all doubt concerning the truth and divinity of the human
countenance.
Those who have this sense, this feeling, call it what you
please, will attribute that only, and nothing more, to each
countenance which it is capable of receiving. They will con-
sider each according to its kind, and will as little seek to add
a heterogeneous character as a heterogeneous nose to the face.
Such will only unfold what nature is desirous of unfolding, give
what nature is capable of receiving, and take away that with
which nature would not be encumbered. They will perceive in
the child, pupil, friend, or wife, when any discordant trait of
character makes its appearance, and will endeavour to restore
the original congeniality, the equilibrium of character and im-
pulse, by acting upon the still remaining harmony, by co-ope-
rating with the yet unimpaired essential powers. They will
consider each sin, each vice, as destructive of this harmony ;
will feel how much each departure from truth, in the human
form, at least to eyes more penetrating than human eyes are,
must be manifest, must distort, and must become displeasing
to the Creator, by rendering it unlike his image. Who, there-
fore, can judge better of the works and actions of man, who
less offend, or be offended, who more clearly develop cause and
effect, than the physiognomist, possessed of a full portion of
this knowledge and sensation ?
ADDITIONS.
PLATE XXIV.
Fig. 1. — This outhne, from a bust of Cicero, appears to me
an almost perfect model of congeniality. The whole has the
character of penetrating acuteness ; an extraordinary, though
not a great profile. All is acute, all is sharp — discerning,
searching, less benevolent than satirical, elegant^ conspicuous,
186
ADDITIONS.
subtle. Often disposed to eontemn, and imagines it has an
inherent right so to contemn.
Fig. 2. — Another congenial countenance ; too evidently na-
ture for it to be ideal, or the invention and composition of art.
Such a forehead does not betoken the rectilinear but the nose
thus bent. Such an upper lip, such an open, eloquent mouth.
The forehead does not lead us to expect high poetical genius ;
but acute punctuality, and the stability of retentive memory,
It is impossible to suppose this a common countenance.
Fig. 3. — The forehead and nose not congenial. The nose
shows the very acute thinker. The lower part of the forehead,
on the contrary, especially the distance between the eyebrow
and eye, do not betoken this high degree of mental power.
The stiff position of the whole is much at variance with the eye
and mouth, but particularly with the nose. — The whole, the
eyebrow excepted, speaks a calm, peaceable, mild character.
Fig. 4. — Strongly impressed with the character of truth ;
all is exact, all harmonious ; a plenitude of activity, of nume-
rous talents. — Between the eyebrows, only, is there something
foreign, empty, insipid. The eyebrows, likewise, are too weak,
too indefinite, in this, otherwise, strong countenance, the power
and fortitude of which might easily degenerate into vanity and
obstinacy.
Fig. 5. — The harmony of the mouth and nose is self-evident.
The forehead is too good, too comprehensive, for this very
limited under part of the countenance. — The whole bespeaks
a harmless character ; nothing delicate, nor severe.
Fig. 6. — From one true feature in the countenance the ac-
curate physiognomist will be able to mend and define the false
and half true. Here, for example, the forehead corresponds
with the hair and the chin ; but I suspect more small wrinkles
about the eyes, the upper eyelid to be much better defined,
and prominent, in nature ; every part of the countenance less
minute ; the mouth, in particular, neither so close, nor so ob-
lique. — Still we here perceive a man who can more easily sport
with us than we with him, and in whose presence the crooked
heart would be liable to very uneasy sensations.
Fig. 7. — We have here a high, bold forehead, with a short-
ON SHADES. 187
seeming, blunt nose, and a fat double chin. How do these
harmonize ! — It is almost a general law of nature that, where
the eyes are strong drawn, and the eyebrows near, the eye-
brows must also be strong. — This countenance, merely by its
harmony, its prominent congenial traits, is expressive of sound,
clear understanding : it is the countenance of reason.
Fig. 8. — A master-piece of congeniality — replete with calm
activity, tranquil energy, breathing the spirit of a better world.
Seldom are tranquillity and power thus intimately combined.
Fig. 9. — The under lip manifestly does not harmonize with
the mouth and eye. The eye has much more gentleness than
the mouth. — A nose thus drawn, so broad and short, denotes
a sound natural understanding.
Fig. 10. — If any man has never seen congeniality, he may
certainly behold it here. — Compare the outline of the back
part of the head with the forehead, the forehead with the
mouth. — The same spirit of harshness, rudeness, and stupid
asperity, is apparent in the traits, individually, as well as in the
countenance altogether. — How might such a forehead have a
fine, retreating under lip, or a strong and extended back of
the head !
Fig. 11. — A mild, yielding character appears in the outline
of the forehead, the eye, and the middle line of the mouth,
which, however, has some error in drawing, and is, conse-
quently, heterogenous to the other features ; as is, also, the
tip of the nose. The eye-bones ought to be some trifle sharper.
Fig. 12. — The perfect countenance of a politician. Faces
which are thus pointed from the eyes to the chin always have
lengthened noses, and never possess large, open, powerful, and
piercing eyes. Their firmness partakes of obstinacy, and they
rather follow intricate plans than the dictates of common sense.
ON SHADES.
Shades are the weakest, most vapid, but, at'the same tijne,
when the light is at a proper distance, and falls properly on
the countenance to take the profile accurately, the truest re-
presentation tliat can be given of man. — -The weakest, for it
188
ON SHADES.
is not positive, it is only something negative, only the boun-
dary line of half the countenance. The truest, because it is
the immediate expression of nature, such as not the ablest
painter is capable of drawing, by hand, after nature.
What can be less the image of a living man than a shade !
Yet how full of speech ! Little gold, but the purest.
The shade contains but one line ; no motion, light, colour,
height or depth ; no eye, ear, nostril or cheek ; but a very small
part of the lip ; yet how decisively is it significant ! The reader
soon shall judge, be convinced, and exercise his judgment.
Drawing and painting, it is probable, originated in shades.
They express, as I have said, but little ; but the little they
do express is exact. No art can attain to the truth of the
shade, taken with precision.
Let a shade be taken after nature, with the greatest accu-
racy, and, with equal accuracy, be afterwards reduced, upon
fine transparent oil paper. Let a profile, of the same size,
be taken, by the greatest master, in his happiest moment ;
then let the two be laid upon each other, and the difference
will immediately be evident.
I have often made the experiment, but never found that the
best efforts of art could equal nature, either in freedom, or in
precision ; but that there was always something more or less
than nature.
Nature is sharp and free : whoever studies sharpness more
than freedom will be hard, and whoever studies freedom more
than sharpness will become diffuse, and indeterminate.
I can admire him only who, equally studious of her sharp-
ness and freedom, acquires equal certainty and impartiality.
To attain this, artist, imitator of humanity ! first exercise
yourself in drawing shades; afterwards copy them by hand;
and, next, compare and correct. Without this, you will with
difficulty discover the grand secret of uniting precision and
freedom.
I have collected more physiognomonical knowledge from
shades alone than from every other kind of portrait ; have
improved physiognomonical sensation more by the sight of
them, than by the contemplation of ever mutable nature.
ON SHADHS. 189
Shades collect the distracted attention, confine it to an out-
line, and thus render the observation more simple, easy, and
precise. — The observation, consequently the comparison.
Physiognomy has no greater, more incontrovertible certainty
of the truth of its object than that imparted by shade.
If the shade, according to the general sense and decision of
all men, can decide so much concerning character, how mucli
more must the living body, the whole appearance, and action
of the man ! If the shade be oracular, the voice of truth, the
word of God, what must the living original be, illuminated by
the spirit of God !
Hundreds have asked, hundreds will continue to ask, " What
can be expected from mere shades V Yet no shade can be
viewed by any one of these hundred who will not form some
judgment on it, often accurately, more accurately than I could
have judged.
To render the astonishing significance of shades conspicu-
ous, we ought either to compare opposite characters of men,-
taken in shade ; or, which may be more convincing, to cut out
of black paper, or draw, imaginary countenances widely dis-
similar : or, again, when we have acquired some proficiency
in observation, to double black paper, and cut two counte-
nances ; and, afterwards, by cutting with the scissors, to
make slight alterations, appealing to our eye, or physiogno^
monical feeling, at each alteration ; or, lastly, only to take
various shades of the same countenance, and compare them
together. We shall be astonished, by such experiments, to
perceive what great effects are produced by slight alterations.
In our next fragment we shall present the reader with a
number of shades, and inquire into their signification.
A previous word concerning the best mode of taking
shades.
The common method is accompanied with many inconve-
niences. It is hardly possible the person drawn should sit
sufiiciently still ; the designer is obliged to change his place,
he must approach so near to the persons that motion is almost
inevitable, and the designer is in the most inconvenient posi-
190 THE GREAT SIGNIFICANCE
tion ; neither are the preparatory steps every where possible,
nor simple enough.
A seat purposely contrived would be more convenient. The
shade should be taken oh post paper, or rather on thin oiled
paper, well dried. Let the^head and back be supported by a
chair, and the shade fall on the oil paper behind a clear, flat,
polished glass. Let the drawer sit behind the glass, holding
the frame with his left hand, and, having a sharp black-lead
pencil, draw with the right. The glass in a detached sliding-
frame, may be ^aased, or lowered, according to the height of
the person. The bottom pf the glass frame, being thin, will
be best of iron, and should be raised so as to rest steadily
upon the* shoulder. Iri tip cfe^tre, upon the glass, should be
a small piece of wood, or iron, to, which fasten a small round
cushion, (supported by a short pin, scarcely half an inch long,
which, ako^ may be raisec® or lowered, and against which the
person may leaii. \ * ■■> '■^'^
The drawing annexe^, fl^ "^XXV., will ijcender this de-
scription jnore intelligible.^'- '' ' "'*
By thes aid of a magnif*ng,lens, or solar microscope, the
outlines may be much mor^ acc&rately determii|§d and drawn.
f • , '■ • . .41 \ _.•«■■
OF THE GREAT SJCPNife'lOANCE OF'SHlDES.
Not aljj often very much, often but tittle, can;, be discovered
of the ch^ajctei" of a.^an from his Aade. !
I mean to insert a numfoer of ^^^ad^^ that I may thereby
render intelligible what majr be jconchided from such mere out-
lines of the human cQnntenanSfe,, s&netimes with certainty.
'tm^
-~^,f-
sometimes with- probability,
The progriess of human opinion is ever in the extreme ; it is
all affirmative, or all negative.
But not so. All cannot be seen in ihe shade, yet something
may. — Not all; that is to say, not by man, bounded as are his
faculties. I will not pretend to determine what might be the
conclusions of a superior Being from the outline to the inward
man ; the figure, elasticity, fire, power, motion, life, in the
nose, mouth, eye ; or how perfectly such a Being might under-
Tj..m;.Y.\T.
OF SHADES. 191
stand the whole charact^, with all its actual and possible
passions. I am far from thinking this must surpass His powers,
since part of this may be attained by men of the commonest
faculties. Proofs shall presently be given.
True it is that, with respect to many shades, we (I at least)
cannot determine any thing, even when they happen to be the
shades of extraordinary persons. But of all these extraordi-
nary persons, whose characters are not distinct in shade, it
may be remarked that —
Seen only in shade they will neither appear foolish, when
possessed of great wdsdom, nor wicked, if highly virtuous. All
that can be alleged is, we do not affirmatively read what they
are. Either —
What is extraordinary in the character is as little apj)arent
as in the shade ! or —
It may be known to a few confidential friends, but is not
prominent, not obvious ; or again —
By a thousand fortunate incidental circumstances, a man,
possessed of very moderate talents, may act, write, speak, or
suffer, so as to appear extraordinary, although, in reality, he
is not so ; a case which often occurs, occasions much error,
and is, or rather seems to be, very inimical to physiognomy as
a science. Of this I could produce many examples : but ex-
amples might offend, and I should most unwillingly give
offence in a work, the very purport of which is to promote
philanthropy.
It is also possible that those traits which, ii^ shade, might
betoken the extraordinary qualities of the man, and which,
in themselves, so nearly approach the overstrained and the
foolish, are either too inaccurately, or too prominently drawn.
There are countenances, the shades of which, if but a hair-
breadth more sharp, flat, or blunt, than nature, lose all they
possess most marking, and acquire a false and foreign cha-
racter. The most delicate, beautiful, angelic countenances
generally lose, through the slightest neglect in taking their
shades, that which in every judgment constitutes their su-
preme simplicity, their upright worth. — Something is enlarged,
or something is diminished.
192 THE GREAT SIGNIFICANCE
It is also possible that pock-marks, pimples, or other acci-
dents, may so indent, swell, or distort a fine outline, that the
true character of the countenance either cannot accurately or
not at all be defined.
Yet it is undeniable, and shall be made evident by example
to the lover of truth, that numberless countenances are so
characterized, even by shades, that nothing can be more cer-
tain than the signification of these shades.
I pledge myself to produce two imaginary shades, the one
of which shall excite general abhorrence, and the other confi-
dence and love equally general. — Opposite as Christ and
Belial.
But to the question.
What characters are most conspicuous in shade ? What is
most precisely and clearly shown in shade ?
A fragment of an answer.
Shades must necessarily mark the characters of the very
angry and the very mild ; the very obstinate, and the very
pliable ; of the profound or the superficial, that is to say, ge-
nerally speaking, of extremes.
Pride and humility are more prominent, in shade, than
vanity.
Natural benevolence, internal power, flexibility, peculiar
sensibility, and especially, infantine innocence, are expressive
in shade.
Great understanding, rather than great stupidity; profound
thought, much better than clearness of conception.
Creative powers, rather than acquired knowledge ; especially
in the outline of the forehead, and the eye bones.
Let us now proceed to a few remarks on shades, and the
manner in which they ought to be observed, which must ne-
cessarily be preceded by the classification of such lines as
usually define and limit the human countenance.
Perpendicular; the perpendicular expanded; compressed;
projecting ; retreating ; straight lines ; flexible ; arched ; con-
tracted ; waving ; sections of circles ; of parabolas ; hyperbo-
las; concave; convex; broken; angular; compressed; ex-
tended ; opposed ; homogeneous ; heterogeneous ; contrasted.
ov SHADES. 193
How purely may all these be expressed by shades ; and how
various, certain, and precise, is their signification ?
We may observe in every shade nine principal horizontal
sections : —
1. The arching from the top of the head to the beginning
of the hair.
2. The outline of the forehead to the eyebrows.
3. The space between the eyebrow and the insertion of
the nose.
4. The nose to the upper lip.
5. The upper lip.
6. The lips proper.
7. The upper chin.
8. The under chin.
9. The neck.
To these may be added the back of the head and neck.
Each part of these sections is often a letter, often a syllable,
often a word, often a whole discourse, proclaiming nature's
truths.
When all these sections harmonize, character is legible to
the peasant, to the very child, from the mere shade : the more
they are in contrast to each other, the more difiicult is the
character to decipher.
Each profile which consists but of one kind of lines, as for
example, of concave, or convex ; straight or crooked, is cari-
cature, or monstrous. The proportionate, the gentle inter-
mingling of different lines form the most beautiful and excellent
countenances.
We ought to remark, in the whole shade, the proportions of
length and breadth in the countenance.
Well-proportioned profiles are equal in length and breadth.
A horizontal line drawn from the tip of the nose to the back
of the bald head, when the head neither projects forward nor
sinks backward, is, generally, equal to the perpendicular line
from the highest point of the top of the head to where the
chin and neck separate.
Remarkable deviations from this rule always appear to be
either verj' fortunate, or very unfortunate, anomalies.
o
194 THE GREAT SIGNIFICANCE OF SHADES.
This measurement and comparison of the height and breadth
of the naked head may be most easily performed by the shade.
If the head be longer than broad, and the outhne hard and
angular, it betokens excessive obstinacy : if, on the contrary,
the outline be more lax and rounded, excess of lethargy.
If the head, measured after the same manner, be broader
than long, and with a hard, strong, angular, contracted out-
line, it denotes the height of implaeabihty, generally accompa-
nied by malignity ; but if, with this greater breadth, the out-
lines are lax and flexible, sensuality, pHability, indolence, the
height of voluptuousness.
To mention one thing more, out of a hundred which may be
added, on this subject, but which require further preparation,
and some of which will find a place in the following examples,
the shade, generally, expresses much more of original propen-
sity than actual character. The second and third sections,
oftenest, and with most certainty, denote the power of the
understanding, and of action and passion in man ; the nose,
taste, sensibility, and feeling; the lips, mildness and anger,
love and hatred ; the chin, the degree and species of sensu-
ality; the neck, combined with its hinder part, and position,
the flexibility, contraction, or frank sincerity of the character ;
the crown of the head, not so much the power, as the richness,
of the understanding ; and the back of the head the mobility,
irritability, and elasticity.
How little, yet, how much, has been said ! How little, for
him who seeks amusement ; how much, for the man of re-
search, who has will, and ability, to examine for himself, who
can confirm, define, and proceed ! It is now time, by nume-
rous examples, to prove some things that have been said, and
repeat others, that they may be rendered more intelligibk,
evident, and certain.
195
ADDITIONS.
PLATKXXVr^.
Fig- !• — FkgmW sertion- of this forehead, singly conaiderfed;
without the top and back of the head, something excellent
might be expected ; so difficult is it to discriminate between
t^s and the best built foreheads. But, as Soon as the whole
.ia^sen collectivelyj|fall-,^ectation ofrfgreat powers of mind
will^nish, and we" must xjoiitent our^flves with discovering, in
this head of mediocrity; incapable of profound research, or
great pioductioBS, a degree of benevolence, not Very, active,
and inoffensive patience. ;
Fig. 2.-^Th^; weakest, and the most benevolent, cannofcbut
remark that this worthy man has som&phlegmatic, gross sen-
>«uality, with whi^Jhie^ is ' obliged to contend ; neither wilWe
be so unjust as to expect any deep research ; yet must I entreat
that the good which is here bestowed by nature may not be
overlooked. Let the upper and imder part of this, perhaps ill-
drawn, countenance be covered, and the middle wiU discover a
•d^ree of capabilityj^,u;i&)rmation, cultivation, ;and taste, supe-
rior to the rest. It is liigWy probabte that, were it not for the
predonunant inclination to indolence, stich^a profile might be-
come an orator, or a poet, ,and certainly a man of wit. ;
Fig. 3. — A good, but circumscribed countenance, incapable
of any high or profound exercise of 'tiie understanding. With-
out being stupid, the forejieafd, scarcely, could^bejnoreflat,
unproductive, or contracted. The"1Sose, alone, has capfeity.
The under part of the countenance is as determinate, and
speaks the same language, as the upper. The whole narrow
and confused. A propensity to, and a want of, the aid of
religion. ' ' ,, r' ' : -^
Fig. 4. — Some degrees more capacious and ^powerful ;tlian
the foregoing. Equal benevolence,, more of religion, a greater
promptitude to business, and desire. of information. Peijuliar
and active peiietration is not to be expected from such) coun-
tenances.
196 ADDITIONS.
Fig. 5. — I cannot discover a superiority of talents, or genius,
in this honest, worldly countenance, full of respectable utility.
Cover the evidently shortened upper lip, and neither stupidity
nor folly, but only an unproductive capacity of learning, re-
membering, and understanding common things, will be deci-
sively seen. .. r
Fig. 6. — Who, in the under part of this profile, could read
the father of children, some of them intelligent, and some
extraordinary? — A man of great powers, sincere humanity,
incapable of the beautiful ; having once determined, difficult to
move ; in othfer things, far from the character of insensibility ;
wanting powers, in my apprehension, for the fine arts; but
cheerful, ardent, faithful, and very choleric.
Fig. 7. — The arching of the forehead almost perfectly effe-
minate ; manly only in the small circle over the eye ; where, be
it here remarked, aU effeminate or manly foreheads are most
distinguished. (The effeminate outline is ever the simplest ;
the manly is either much more rectilinear, contracted, or, as
in the annexed plate, less further back: if arched, is inter-
rupted, indented, and has, commonly, two sections.) Bene-
volent, generous, a disregard of existence, alive to honour, and
its rewards, to his own sufferings, and the sufferings of others;
such is this profile.
Fig. 8. — Whoever will search for manly, simple fidelity, in
one perfect whole ; a sound and exquisite sense of truth, with-
out the trouble of inquiiy, a tender, innate, firm, sincere love,
combined with resolution, manhood, and candour ; let them
contemplate this countenance.
Fig. 9. — The nose, manifestly too pointed, gives this profile
the appearance of insignificant, childish fear. The nose, com-
pared with the forehead, convinces us it is inaccurate; the
nose is childishly effeminate, while the forehead woul,d never
be found in a female. It is not of the first order, though it is
something more than common. The projecting eye denotes
fear and choler ; the mouth and chin extreme prudence, be-
nevolence, and gentleness. Nature ever gives a counterpoise,
and delights to mingle mildness and fire in a wonderful
manner.
ADDITIONS. 197
Fig. 10. — The forehead is not drawn with accuracy, yet it
shows a man of a clear and sound understanding, determined
in the pursuit of business. The nose is of a superior kind,
and, apart from the other features, has every capacity of ex-
cellent and just sensation. — The under part shows common
manliness and resolution.
Fig. 11. — I do not think we have a peculiarly great head
here, yet certainly not a very common one. The back part is
decisive of a richly comprehensive, and not irresolute thinker.
No single feature of the face has any thing determinate, yet
each has something the reverse of rude, and all please by their
combination. He must be a civil, peaceable, modest man ;
desirous of learning, and capable of teaching.
Fig. 12. — However great the resemblance of this shade
mey be supposed, it is certainly, in part, enlarged, and, in
part, curtailed ; yet are the expansion and firmness, almost in
equal- degrees, general and congenial. The under part of the
forehead, and the back part of the head, are injured by the
curtailment. The upper part of the forehead, and nose, de-
note much less dryness, and more sensibility and capacity.
Fig. 13.— One of those masculine profiles which generally
please. Conceal the under chin, and an approach to greatness
is perceptible ; except that greater variation in the outline is
wanting, especially in the nose, and forehead. The choleric,
phlegmatic man is visible in the whole ; especially, in the eye-
brows, nose, and lower part of the chin ; as likewise are inte-
grity, fidelity, goodness, and complaisance.
Fig. 14. — The forehead not sharp enough^ yet rich in me-
mory and prudence. This practical wisdom, this thoughtful
calculation, is also conspicuous in the under part of the profile.
The extension, the length, of the upper lip (the pallium of the
teeth) to the nose, on the contrary, betoken thoughtless indis-
cretion. Wherever the forehead retreats so little back, upon
the whole, it is never productive, but so much the more per-
ceptive. Thoughtlessness should come for advice to such
countenances ; they are magazines of reflection derived from
experience.
Fig. 16. — A singular, wonderfully harmonized countenance.
'98 ADDITIONSij
How remarfcably. congenial are the forehead and no^|.^especiT
ally ! Nothing too shaxp, nothing. unnaturally jflat, expanded,
or contracted. — I suppose, a &y,. firm, thoughtfi^.f subtle,
peneJ*atingj' not analyzing,, phlegmatic! sometimes desperit^*
and a generally, brave character /.^ v. ,. l^
^fig. 16.^^Mild complaisance, forbearance, a^ture coiisid^
ration, calm activity, comp(5sur6V sound understanding,^lower
of thought, discerning attention, secretly active friendship, are
the decisive traits of this, to me, well-known original ; all of
which, if they are not instantaneously' discoverable, will Be
. seen as soon as mentioned. No sectipfbf j^he outline coi^^^!^
any)±hing conti;adictory to, this judgment. "The foreh^^and
bact of the head are, of themselyes, deeisjv^jof calmieonsiders
ration and discretion; Benevolence and t^^iquillitypcfrflini-
versal; particularly in the unlssr; parish One of ,t|te;mi30t;
faithful, calm, cheerful^ j^nd moat, contentfed of m^^ Aliker
happy and satisfied wi&ffis congregation as ^vroh hg! garden,,
cultivated by himself, iot his own use, aiid that of hisfriends.' ^^
PLATE XXVII.
Fig. 1. — ^An original countenance, that will, to hundreds,
Speak sensibility, Ij^jdity, perspicuity, wit, and imagination
Not to be numbered -ampng the strMg, bold,^ unshakei^f and
enterpsrising ; but very 'odnsiderat^ cautious .io timidii^ a
countenance which often says muchl with a cold, yet excellent
■Fig. 2. — A man of business, with more than qomm&n abili-»
tiies; Undoubtedly possessed of talents, punctual honesty-, love
of order, p.nd deliberation. An acute injector of men ; a cahn,
dry, determined judge. I do not kriow-the- man, not even so"'
much as by name ; but, to the middle of the mouth, is an
advancing trait, which speaks superiority in common affairs.
Fig. 3. — A good head. — Cannot be mistaken, not even in
shade. Conceal, the under part, and leave only the nose and
forehead visible, arid signs of attention, love of. order, and
certainty, are apparent. The forehead, altogether, is too per-
pendicular for a productive mind. — The i acute, the cheerful,
the subtle, -uncultivated 'wit of the original is difficult to be
/'/,. /'/■/ JJ/v
-^^
*s..
.:.■■■ !
■I
iS^ifr-^^ i0-^
/:
%
^:#" ' ''""
■\
t^
\
1
3
G
f
/ )
*\
pill'
( . ,::
"■!'' . '|ii''' „i.' "S:' .liili
A,ii' I.! ..Ill' ii:j" -liiffl
ADDITIONS. 199
discovered in this shade; yet the outline of the lips gives
reason to suspect these qualities.
Fig. 4. — ^Those who have never studied the man, and men
in general but little, still cannot but respect this profile ;
although the forehead is not so entirely exact and pure as
to discover the whole capacity of his understanding. The
harmony of the whole, especially the nose, mouth, and chin,^
denote a mind of extraordinary observation, research, and
analysis.
Fig. 5. — A noble forehead, a miracle of purity, the love of
order, I might say, the love of light. — Such the nose, such is
all. How capable of cultivation must such a profile be ! I
am unacquainted with the man, yet am I certain as that I live,
that he is capable of the calmest examination, that he feels
the necessity of, and delights in, clear conceptions, and that
he must be an attentive observer.
Fig. 6. — Much is to be learnt from this shade. — Takes
little, gives much ; this is particularly conspicuous in the too
round outline of the lips, which is most defective. The most
delicate lines have either not been remarked, or cut away.
The upper part of the forehead is, also, something curtailed ;
otherwise this countenance is refined, discreet, capable of
talents, taste, wit, and morals.
Fig. 7. — Thus ought a man to look, but not a woman, who
reads, but is not easily read. By strength restrained, exact-
ness, mild fortitude, and disinterestedness, I would undertake
to conquer, and even to lead, this otherwise irascible character,
on whom a man may rely, after having granted his confidence,
with circumspection. I am unacquainted with the person, but
dare afiirm that, if foolish, there is, still, a capability of wisdom.
Fig. 8. — Not angry impetuosity, not violent outrage, scan-
dalous censoriousness, or malignant intrigue, are discoverable
in this shade ; on the contrary, each feature, as well as the
whole countenance, speaks gentleness, beneficence, delicate
feelings, excellent taste, not very productive, but capable of
information, and great urbanity.
Fig. 9. — Happy tranquillity ; noble, calm, clear perceptions
of the present ; a just and profound estimate of the thing con-
soo
ADDITIONS.
sidered ; artless eloquence, dieerfulness, .easy frankpess,. dis-
cretion, verging to inoflfensive cunning, astonishing ca^kbilitiea
for business, endear this countenance to evfery friend. How
summarily, how beautifully, do the aspect an3\ attitude denote
friendly expression [^^ -. i:;,L:^..UiJ>'-^"'' " '"-**^..i^^
Fig. 10. — A profile ricTi in talents, uniting much taste with
the finest dexterity of art. The ill-cut upper lip excepted, it
is impossible for a physiognomonical eye to mistake this speak-
ing shade. None who have studied nien would wondj^,|^|guld
we write under this, a good musician, m^iiature painter^or.
surveyor ; or a companion equally pleasant and f inteUigentv
F6*ehead,?nose, chin, and general form, denole a mind capahie
of high cultivation, aiid a sense of the beaut^ul. ■. - .
Fig. 11 to 14. — ^Fbur profiles.' of men of Cnown exceHence,
and evidentlyrsuch in their ..profiles: 11 ^^Mend%sohn; 12,
Spalding; l3i Rochaw; 14, Nikolai. "^ -^
Exact oi;. notj"who will supp&sg^'aiiy one-of these stupid^^
Whoever h^itates concerning 14, never can have observed the
forehead. — This arch, abstractedly considered, especially in the
upper part, has liiore capacity than 12 and 13. In the upper
outline, also, of 'the under part, understanding and exquisite"
penetration cannot be overlooked.'.;; -^
13. -Ha^ more good sense ; prompt, accurate percegiion of ■
truth, delicacy ; but, I suspect,- less acuteness. -■''■'
12.' Clear ideas,'lovex)f elegance, purity, aicuracy of thought
and action I does iiot easily adnlit the unhatural.-^— The fore-
head not sufiiciently character iilKil but 'fine taste in the nose.
; In the forehead and nose of 11, penetration and sound underT
standing are -evident. — The mou|k.is much more delicate than
the mouth in 12.
PLATE XXVIII.
i
Fig. 1. — A well-proportioned countfenance. The outline of
this forehead is deficient in penetraition ; or, as I may with
greater propriety say, the almost unerrmg penetration of the
origiiial is wanting. The shade has likewise an air of import-
ance', of self-complacency, which is as distant from the modesty
of the man as heaven is from earth. The heart ewr open to
FLATS JXI
L-^..
.:'- ~^-
1
...3 4
•\
r""
\
*-
4
'7 *
1 i
'V
X"
_ _ — I
/
1 c
^
J2
k
'\
\
"^•xi
V
^4
■7 ;';'flst
^s.:
u;^..u^
ADDITIONS. 201
the reception of truth. With persevering activity it combines
great taste ; or, if you please, a strong sense of the beautiful.
— Irritable, but will ever act with discretion, nobly. — In the
lower part of the countenance, especially the lips, goodness and
manly strength are alike conspicuous. Easily induced to the
violent.
Fig. 2. — One of the most original heads I have ever beheld.
— ^A singular genius, but incapable of research and retention. —
Fluctuating ; quick to perceive and to forsake ; great elo-
quence imited with little precision ; much wit, and equal sen-
suality, in the nose: a spirit of daring enterprise, without
determinate power, in the whole countenance.
Fig. 3. — A princely countenance — impressing pleasure at
the first aspect. — Nothing vulgar. — If, without prompting, we
cannot say such a countenance was drawa by the hand of God,
of what may this be said ? — Who does not here read worth,
nobility, and courage, so difficult to unite, yet so necessary to
a great man ? The twofold power of concealing what should
be concealed, and of revealing what should be revealed. Dis-
cretion void of minute, over careful suspicion. Though we
cannot see the eye, yet, judging by the outline of the forehead,
and nose, the look must be rapid, certain, penetrating; a
dagger to the dishonourable, and a pledge of confidence to the
worthy man. The outline of the forehead is most extraor-
dinary, and highly characteristic of great and bold enterprise.
The drawing of the mouth is very hard, yet it bears the stamp
of goodness, honesty, and courage. Who also can doubt bnt
that there is some mixture of voluptuousness 2
Fig. 4. — Be it premised that this shade is cut from memory,
and not taken from nature ; yet is it so full of truth and ex-
pression that it must overthrow, or shake to the foundation,
the house of cards, or the supposed rock-built palace of the
most incredulous and obstinate of anti-physiognomists. Place
it among a thousand shades, and it will there ever remain as
singular as was the original among his contemporaries. Con-
tinually do I bow before this form, as to an apparition from
the heavenly regions ; all is one spirit, one harmony, one
whole. How forcible is the power of the nose, or if you please
202 ADDITIONS.
in its minute curve ! — A countenance formed to command, not
to obey. The rapid look thinks and acts. Who shall demand
an account of its actions ? Its will is as a rock, and conducts
the man where millions would faulter. — It is conscious of its
power. — Let the angle formed by the lines a and h be taken,
and laid on thousands of countenances, yet will not a similar
one be found. But however we are indebted to this great
man and monarch, still are we obliged to acknowledge that
mildness and moderation, here, are apparently acquired, not
natural virtue.
Fig. 5. — We shall now produce some female shades, without
too much anticipating the future chapter on the sex. Here is
a truly effeminate profile. It is impossible that this counte-
nance could be male. The simplicity, continuity, and projec-
tion of the forehead, which does not retreat, its proportion
with the under part of the profile, also the hollowing of the
outline of the nose, all speak female nature. The countenance
is fruitful, cunning, active, orderly, tractable, attentive, and
resolute.
Fig. 6. — Less physical and practical power than the former,
but more sensibility and delicacy; more capable of enjoyment,
more tenderness, consideration, timidity, reserve, softness;
yielding, infirm, noble, observing, reflecting, analyzing. The
delicate and noble are seen in the whole, particularly in the
nose and mouth ; the weak and the tender most in the chin ;
reflection in the forehead.
Fig. 7. — More acute, pliable, yielding, enterprising and
active than the foregoing. Cover the forehead, and this is
apparent. The outline of the forehead, to the point where
the eyebrows may be supposed, is not common ; but from this
point to the insertion of the nose is a length and an outline
which I am unable to comprehend : it appears to me false
and unnatural ; it scarcely can be so long, at least, so nearly
perpendicular.
Fig. 8. — ^As these fragments are written to promote the
knowledge and love of men, it is our duty briefly to point out
the positive and excellent in coimtenances where they are not
ADDITIONS. 203
very conspicuous. Cover this shade with the hand, so that
only the countenance from the forehead to the chin can be
seen; the expression of the profile will then be improved.
The negligence of the person who draws a shade, who, fre-
quently, will not be at the trouble of placing the countenance
properly, often does it great injustice. Of this the present
shade is a proof. Timid this character will probably ever re-
main, as the retreating chin alone will show ; but this timidity
is characteristic of youth and sex. But, on the reverse, it
must be observed that ever bountiful nature has imparted
something of pleasing courtesy to the mouth, and of mascu-
line power to the nose, which stand as guarantees for the
character.
Fig. 9. — More courage, enterprise, pliability, determination,
rational activity. The under part of the profile is least defined
and characteristic ; but how much is this negligence compen-
sated by the firm, intelligent, correspondent of what is above !
How capable are such profiles of maternal duties ! How care-
ful, how orderly, how economical ! How respectable by their
meekness, their gentleness ! O miraculous nature ! How dost
thou imprint truth upon all thy works, and bestow the cre-
dentials of the powers with which they are entrusted !
Fig. 10. — Certainly defective, inaccurate. — Caricature, if
any thing can be so ; but caricature, in which geniality cannot
be mistaken. By geniality I would say original penetration ;
a quick perception of things invisible in the visible ; facility
of combining the rapidly discovered homogeneous; the gift
of associating ideas. An accurate drawing of such a coun-
tenance would be mestimable to the physiognomist. Nothmg
more need be said on this every where inaccurate profile.
Fig. 11. — No geniality here but the mildest, most maidenly,
circumspection; attention, civility, obedience, simplicity; no
productive powers of mind : no heroism ; but patience em-
ployed on self. A desire not to inform but to be informed.
More passive than active; more good sense than flight of
fancy, or frolicksome wit.
Fig. 12. — More mind, penetration, or acuteness, than Fig.
] 1 ; less timid, and careful of self ; more excellent, lively,
204 OF BEASTS.
determinate, and analyzing. Forehead and nose discover much
perspicuity, and ardour of understanding ; mildness, benevQ
lence, innocence, and tranquillity in the mouth ; in the chin,
much noble and tender effeminacy.
Fig. 13. — Exclusive of the ill-defined forehead, there is still
enough remaining in the nose, mouth, and the whole outline,
to denote the fine penetrating taste of the reflective and gently
agitated mind ; undisturbed by passions ; capable of delicate,
religious sensibility.
Fig. 14. — Here or nowhere are conspicuous respectable
tranquillity, fortitude, simplicity, superiority ; a freedom from
passion, a contempt for the mean, and a propensity to the
natural, the noble, and the great. This countenance, though
silent, is more eloquent than hundreds that speak. It looks
and penetrates, has the power of forming just decisions, and,
in a single word, to pronounce them irrevocably.
OF BEASTS.
INTRODUCTION.
As the author has little knowledge of beasts, he must leave
the labour of examining them, physiognomonically, to some
Buffon, or Kamper, of this or a future age.
My readers will, therefore, be satisfied with a few general
reflections, and some particular remarks, which may be further
prosecuted by the inquiries into nature. I hope, however, that
those few will be sufficient —
a To confirm the general truth of physiognomy ;
h To elucidate certain laws, according to which eternal
Wisdom has formed living beings ;
c And, still further to display the excellence, the sublimity
of human nature.
How much shall I have gained can I but, by the following
fragment, obtain these three noble purposes :
OF BEASTS. 205
GENERAL KEFLECTIONS.
1. Nature is every where similax to herself. She never acts
arbitrarily, never contrary to her laws. The same wisdom
and power produce all varieties, agreeable to one law, one
will. Either all things are, or nothing is, subject to law and
order.
2. Who can overlook the distinction between internal
power and external form, in the three kingdoms of nature ?
Stones and metals have infinitely less internal powers of life,
and infinitely less appearance of the motive powers of life, than
plants or trees ; while the latter have infinitely less than ani-
mals. — Each stone, each mineral, plant, tree, animal, hath,
individually, a peculiar measure of life, and motive power ; a
capacity of receiving and communicating impressions ; like as
each has, individually, that peculiar external which distin-
guishes it from all others.
3. Therefore, for the mineralist, there is a mineral, for the
botanist, a botanical, and for the naturalist, and the hunter,
an animal physiognomy.
4. What a proportionate distinction is there in power and
appearance between the reed and the oak, the bulrush and
the cedar, the violet and the sunflower, the mouse-ear and
the fiill-blown rose ! — From the smallest insect to the ele-
phant, what proportionate difference of internal and external
character !
6. Whether, with a rapid glance, we survey the kingdoms
of nature, or examine and compare her productions, individu-
ally, can we avoid being deeply convinced of her truth, ever
similar to itself, and the relative harmony between internal
powers and external forms and tokens ?
6. Whoever has not this general perception of the general,
the ever-pcesent truth and language of nature, will do well to
throw this book aside ; it can convince him of nothing, it can
teach him nothing.
206
EXTRACTS FROM ARISTOTLE.
CONCERNING BEASTS.
What the great Aristotle has written on physiognomy ap-
pears to me extremely superficial, useless, and often self-con-
tradictory; especially his general reasoning. Still, however,
we meet an occasional thought which deserves to be selected.
The following are some of these, not translated according to
the letter, but the spirit.
*' A monster has never been seen which had the form of
another creature, and, at the same time, totally different
powers of thinking and acting.
" Thus, for example, the groom judges from the mere ap-
pearance of the horse ; the huntsman from the appearance of
the hound.
" We find no man entirely like a beast, although there are
some features in man which remind us of beasts.
" If any one would endeavour to discover the signs of
bravery in man, he would act wisely to collect all the signs of
bravery in animated nature, by which courageous animals are
distinguished from others. The physiognomist should then
examine all such animated beings which are the reverse of the
former with respect to internal character, and from the com-
parison of these .opposites, the expressions or signs of courage
would be manifest.
" Weak hair betokens fear, and strong hair courage. This
observation is applicable not only to men but to beasts. The
most fearful of beasts are the deer, the hare, and the sheep,
and the hair of these is weaker than that of other beasts.
The lion and wild boar, on the contrary, are the most cou-
rageous, which property is conspicuous in their extremely
strong hair. The same also may be remarked of birds ; for,
in general, those among them which have coarse feathers are
courageous, and those that have soft and weak feathers are
fearful : quails and game cocks for examples.
" This may easily be appHed to men. The people of the
OP BEASTS. 207
north are generally courageous, and have strong hair ; while
those of the west are more feai-ful, and have more flexible
hair.
"Beasts remarkable for their courage, simply give their
voices vent, without any great constraint ; while fearful beasts
utter vehement sounds. Compare the lion, ox, the barking
dog, and cock, which are courageous, to the deer, and the
hare.
" The lion appears to have a more masculine character than
any other beast. He has a large mouth, a four-cornered, not
too bony, visage. The upper jaw does not project, but exactly
fits the under ; the nose is rather hard than soft ; the eyes
are neither sunken nor prominent; the forehead is square,
and somewhat flattened in the middle.
" Those who have thick and firm lips, with the upper lip
hung over the under, are simple persons, according to the
analogy of the ass and monkey." — This is most indetermi-
nately spoken. He would have been much more accurate and
true, had he said, those whose under lips are weak, extended,
and projecting, beyond the upper, are simple people.
" Those who have the tip of the nose hard and firm, love to
employ themselves on subjects that give them little trouble,
similar to the cow and the ox." — Insupportable ! The few
men who have the tip of the nose firm are the most unwearied
in their researches. I shall transcribe no further. The phy-
siognomonical remarks, and the similarities to beasts which he
has produced, are generally unfounded in experience.
RESEMBLANCES BETWEEN THE COUNTENANCES
OF MEN AND BEASTS.
After Aristotle, Porta has most observed the resemblances
between the countenances of men and beasts, and has extended
this inquiry the furthest. He, as far as I know, was the first
who rendered this similarity apparent, by placing the coun-
tenances of men and beasts beside each other. Nothing can
be more true than this fact ; and, while we continue to follow
nature, and do not endeavour to make such similarities greater
208
ADDITIONS.
than they are, it is a subject that cannot be too accurately
examined. But, in this respect, the fanciful Porta appears to
me to have been often misled, and to have found resemblances
which the eye of truth never could discover. I could find no
resemblance , between the hound and Plato, at least from which
cool reason could draw any conclusions. It is singular enough
that he has also compared the heads of men and birds. He
might more eifectually have examined the excessive dissimi-
larity than the very small, and almost imperceptible, resem-
bJance which can exist. He speaks little concerning the horse,
elephant, and monkey, though it is certain that these animals
have most resemblance to man.
ADDITIONS,v
PLATE XXIX.
a Repobt makes the monkey most resemble man ; and,
certainly, there is a kind of men who greatly resemble this
animal, particularly about the eyes. — The two countenances
here given are some of the mosl; accurate compared by Porta ;
and, if a, man were really fomid so like a monkey, we might
then, without all fear, ascribe to the ' man much of the cha^
racter of the monkey ; a gre^t want of faculties, feeling, and
mind. But .let uS'be careful not to believe too ^eat an ap-
proach of character, from the. similarity her# produced, which
certainly is not founded in nature. ^The nature of man will
ever possess unattainable advant^es over that of brutes. If
we compare, for example, the outline of the skull to the ears,
how essentially different are the modes of arching i ^How dis-
similar are the -cheeks and the chin ! ~ .
b It cannot be doubted but that the hiiman head, here
annexed, has something of the ox ; though it appears to me
rather to partake of the ox and lion, than the ox singly. The
wrinkling of the forehead has something of the ox, but the nose
has more of the lion ; and the middle line of the mouth is
essentially different, not only from the ox, but from all kinds
of beasts. The nostrils of the human countenance are also
I'LAIK XI/,1
/
/'
../^"
\
/fy:^M''i^mikr,wt
ADDITIONS. 453
- . ?%. 3. — Terror, abhorrence, knd rage; but general, not
determined, not &,ccurate. -
Fig.' 4. — Eyes which never can attain the power of thought.
The first outline of ignorant astonishment. Eyes'which nothing
,take and nothing give.
• :> ; Fig. 5. — Convulsive rage : the aiffectation of power without
the_reality.
Fig. 6. — Stupid devotion mixed with pain.
Fig. 7. — The eye of the choleric temperament, full of
courage and active resolution. -■ '■
Fig. 8. — Less courageous, but wiser ; . less firm, but more
considerate. . The angle pi the eye is too short for an eye so
long ; the under bending of the upper ey«lid not suitable to.
not in congruity with^the eyebrow. • .-
Fi^. 9. — With more genius than the former ; but the angle
again too obtiisfe, and the outline of the under eyelid inaccurate.
An eye that penetrates the heart ; entirely. observant of men,
and bom heroic.
Fig. 10. — Less genius. The under outline, once more, in-
accurate, unmeaning. A sanguine-phlegmatic eye ; somewhat
languid ; rather considering the. whole, than attending to the
minute; -despising the little, and disposed to the compre-
hensive. '4 '
PLATE-LXXIII.
Fig. 1.^— Eyes and eyebrows of discreet^; firm, active choler.'
A man who cannot be tardy ; hating irresolution ; uniting the
sagacity of the elephant and the courage of the lion. The
under part of the countenance has most of the lion. The nose
unites courage and wisdom: the eye is deep, and inspects
deeply. The surrounding wrinkles are in favour of wisdom
and worth ; and still more the eyebrows.
ON THB NOSE, MOCTH, AND- CHIN.
Fig. 2. — ^All turned up or snub noses do not denote folly,
but when they are turned up in this degree, when the nostrils
are so small, the upper part of the ear thus shortened, the
comer of the mouth thus drawn down, the upper eyelid scarcely
454 ADDITIONS.
visible, and eyes thus small, togetlier with a chin engrossing so
considerable a part of the countenance, we may then, without
injustice, conclude tliat,^ though of the benevolent kind, there
is native dulness.
Fig. 3. — Such noses have pointed chins, and where the nose
and chin are both pointed, the lips are seldom large ; but there
are always marking traits from the nose to the mouth. How
significant of cynical wit are such traits in the profile of
Voltaire ! The upper part of the nose is most witty, but this
expression diminishes towards the point. The mouth is ex-
tremely full of wit and satirical fancy, with vanity, and the
satisfaction of avarice.
Fig. 4. — Elegant, thoughtful, comprehensive : one formed
for the discovery of truth, either as politician, author, or expe-
rimental observer ; that creates not, but delights in all" which
is, and especially in that which only can be, the offspring of
fancy. Confusion will never be mistaken by him for genius.
The forehead is not entirely accurate, but is weaker than in
the original. Its general form is true, but some small signi-
ficant shades are wanting. Exclusive of the loud declaration
of the under part of the countenance, in favour of intelligence,
taste, and capacity, the whole outline and character of the nose
is especially and extremely decisive, in favour of all that has
before been affirmed.
Fig. 5. — This countenance is equally characteristic in the
eyebrows, nose, mouth, and whole form. The eyes are least
so, probably because ill dravra. Such accurate, characteristic
eyebrows should have more accurate, characteristic eyes. All,
except the eyes, and those only not enough, speak the wise,
firm, penetrating, politician. Much more compact, square,
immoveable, invincible, and, if I may so say, bony than that
we last considered. This can less be called a great, than
a perspicacious, attentive, examining person ; one not to be
deceived; that can easily comprehend, and rapidly combine;
possessing practical wisdom, which the regular, but not sub-
lime, form of the countenance shows. Such is the character
of the whole forehead, nose, and mouth.
Fig. 6. — One of the most original, productive, comprehen-
ADDITIONS. 455
sive countenances I have ever beheld ; though I grant it is but
the skeleton of what it ought to be. — Yet what mind, what
power, vigour, penetration ! Never have I seen eyes with such
broad eyelids, such curves, such openness, such environs ; no
nose so pregnant ; no mouth so closed, or lips so waving ; no
chin so interrupted ; never so much harmony ; so much unity
of boldness, capacity and mind. We do not see the forehead,
but we imagine its height, position, and form. All betoken
the most astonishing, inexhaustible, productive imagination ;
the stamp of daring genius and unshaken fortitude. AH is
firm, definite, undulating, gradual. The very hair, its degree
of. thickness, and mode of growth, are characteristic of easy
invention ; yet is the countenance, as here represented, what
may well be called wiry. What powerful activity, what a
thousand tongued mind, must have animated the living
original !
Fig. 7. — A stony countenance ; a nose of plaster ; no undu-
lation, no gradation ; a deception of greatness, without elasti-
city ; of mildness, without love, and of uninteresting attention.
Nature is never so like marble. Yet this countenance has
something of the Raphael. The designer wished to produce
the simple and the great, and, by endeavouring to avoid th^
minute and the wrinkly, he produced vacancy instead of sim-
plicity : he attempted the powerful and effected an innate want
of feeling. The whole impresses us with the image of the
stupor of astonishment, mingled with fear and anxiety. Mouth
and chin are the most natural, the most feminine features in
the whole countenance.
Pig. 8. — A rude form of countenance, very choleric-san-
guine, little power of mind, sensibility, love, faith, or hope :
nose and mouth are decisive. There is the power of malig-
nity, however, in the nose, which is neither merely physical
nor brutal. As this' mouth displays itself so does weakness,
physical or mental ; as it extends itself, so does brutahty.
Fig. 9. — Scarcely can the sanguine -melancholy nose be
imagined to be thus artificially added. Were I silent it would-
be seen how excellently it is fitted, adjusted to the profile.
And yet how imperceptibly small the section divided from the
456 ADDITIONS,
natural nose! The sides of a nose thus arched,. thus sinking,
must incline upward towards the eyes. The luxurious eye
perfectly corresponds with this nose. The forehead and eye
nearly approach volatile folly and dulness.
Fig. 10. — How. much, yet how little, is there of the royal
countenance in this copy! The covered forehead may be
suspected from this nose, this sovereign feature. The
forked, descending wrinkles of the nose, _ are expressive qf
killing contempt. The great eye, with a nose so-Jooriy,
denotes a firmness and fire not easily to lie "withstood.
Wit and satirical fancy are apparent in the mouth, though
defectively drawn. There is something minute seen in the
chin which cannot well be in nature. \
PLATE LXXIV.
Figs. 1 to 4. — We may if we please reduce noses to tliree
principal classes: 1. Those the under parts of which, or the
nostril, including the lowest outline, may be considered as hori-
zontal. These are the most beauteous, ' noble, and fuU of
spirit. But they are very uncommon.
2. Those the under outlines of which, including the nostril,
are turned up. These are commonly more low and hollow
near the root than the example here given, in which the
nostril is inaccurate, and the outline very noble.
3. The hooked nose, which usually denotes melancholy;
and is, at least, seldom seen without a mixture or inclination
to melancholy ; or without wit, satire, and mind ; to which,
as a 4th, we may add the cartilaginous, irregular, intelligent ;
determined, powerful, choleric nose.
Figs. 5 to 8. — ^As is the length, or rather projecting, of the
nose, so is that of the chin. From the nose we may define the
chin, and from the chin the nose. Till we shall be enabled to
determine what one member is by^eeing another, the whole
from any feature of the countenance, we are but arrived at
the portico of the temple of physiognomy. — 7 and 8 are the
outlines of most intelligence ; the forehead of 8 better than
that of 7.
nATE UXIV.
PUXIi J-i-T
ADDITIONS. 457
5, would be much more judicious were the under part some-
thingjess extended i~5, has most penetration ; 7, most taste ;
8, most mind ; 6, may have abilities. The descent of the fore-
head to the nose seems to me oppressively obstinate, cold, and
spiritless.
Figs. 9, 10, ll. — Three very wise, acute, active noses,
which we discover so to be by the undulations and gentle in-
flexions of the outlines. 9, is the most judicious, great, and
enterprising; 10, more mild, less choleric ; 11, the least noble,
though not "ignoble ; the most difficult to be. deceived ; the
most acutfe,. . ...;^
PLATE LXXV.
Figs. 1, 2. — Two Imperfectly drawn outlines of mouths of very
opposite characters ; 1, seems to me the mouth of the refined,
inteUigent, eloquent man of taste, and of the world ; the poli-
tician; 2, the dry, firm, close, immoveable, authoritative,
phlegmatic, melancholy character.
Figs. 3, 4, 5. — Three — wherefore may we not say muzzles?*
— Muzzles only appertain to beasts, or brutal men — How
much are we the slaves of the works of our own hands, and of
the breath of our own mouths ! How continually do we forget
that speech was made for man and not man for speech. I
wUl therefore venture to say three mouths, 3 and 5, belong to
one class, and are nearly of the same character; mildly discreet,
peaceful, humble, attentive. 4, has more power, is more con-
centrated ; has more esteem,-less affection ; is more pertina-
cious, more resolute.
Figs. 6 to 9. — Not one of these four mouths is natural:
7, is the most so, and is alone benevolent, acute, capacious,
tender, affectionate, noble, peaceable, and loving order.
6, is altogether as brutal as a mouth can be, in which we
suppose any acuteness and satire.
* The distinction between the words mund and maul (or muzzle and
mouth) have a propriety in the German which is lost in translation,~T,
458 ADDITIONS.
The upper part of 7,* has something crafty ; the under,
j-ude and stupid. The upper lip of 8, participates of goodness,
but the under is as weak, as toneless as possible.
PLATE LXXVI.
More masks, or ill-drawn heads, of ^einy IV. in different
situations, a countenance which not even the 'fortieth copy can
deprive of spirit and greatness. ~~'
1. Who Can "contemplate Heniy IV. sleeping, or -2, dead,
without jEpeling^ him to be more than a common -man 2 -Calm,
firm heroism, hovers over this\countenance. He is the
Lord's anointed, 'whom no man- may injure' and escape un-
punished. .
3. Representing him in scenes of supp'ospd, drunkenness or
debauchery, when the moveable features, the eyelids, and
especially the under lip, are relaxed, and drop, yet can we nc^
forbear to admire and reverence the firm outlines.
The forehead and nose still must attract the attention of
the physiognomist, even though he cannot view the voluntary
debasement of the muscular features without sighs and grief,
when contrasted with solid parts so striking;**^:'; ■?
The- contemptuous aversion expressedrm the month of 4, is
too insipid, too vacant, for so great a countenance ,; . although
it is siill in a great style.
PLATE LXXVri.
Fig. I.— Corrupt rudeness, and malignity,; contemning
morals.- Natural power degenerates into -obstinacy, in the
forehead, r Affection is far distant from this coimtenance.
Insensibility usurps the place of courage^ and meanness the
seat of heroism. Alas ! what must thy sufferings be ere thou
shalt be purified equal to thy original destination ! The thing
most pitiable in this countenance is an expression of the con-
• I suspect an error of the press, and that we ought to read 8; — ^T.
fLAi-E u:ni.
/iV?/:^^
PLUT. i..urii
ADDITIONS. 459
scious want of power to acquire the degree of malignity it
may wish, or affect to possess.
Fig. 2. — How much too vulgar, too mean, is this form of
countenance for the great, unique, the incomparable Luther,
who, with all his monstrous faults, if so you shall please to
affirm, still was the honour of his age, of Germany and of the
human race ! This form of countenance, I say, is nothing less
than beautiful; yet may every half observer discover the great,
the firm, the fearless man. — What mind, what enthusiasm in
the eye and eyebones ! What industry and humility in the
mouth! For in such situations, with such incitements to
pride, who was more humble ? — It were needless to notice the
inflexibility and power of the chin, and the neck.
ADDITIONS,
ILLUSTRATIVE OF PAGES 396 TO 400 •
WOMEN.
Fig. 3. — The most accurate female housewifery: the fore-
head entirely feminine ; the nose indicative of household dis-
cretion ; the eye sharply attentive ; the mouth kind, but
strictly, economical ; the undulation of the jawbone as effemi-
nate as possible ; all the wrinkles express good sense, confined
within a small domestic circle.
Fig. 4. — Noble, full of vivacity, youthful frolic, sanguine,
capable of friendship, innocent, mild, faithful, modest, and in
the outline of the nose, especially, charming effeminacy.
Fig. 5.— -More power, comprehension, sensibility, desire of
instruction, capacity, practical reason, combined with the
most faithful friendship, and punctual love of order. Fore-
head, eyebrows, eye, nose, and mouth, — all one mind, one
character.
Fig. 6. — Xhe forehead less, the other features all more
feminine than the former. The forehead and nose have some-
thing masculine, which gives a beautiful support to the mild,
cheerful, noble sanguinism of the other parts.
Fig. 7. — How much heroism is there in this caricature !
460 ADDITIONS.
The form of the forehead, though feminine, is as manly as a
female forehead can be. How conspicuous in eyebrow, eye,
nose, mouth, and chin, are faith, worth, and the incorrupti-
bility 6i the noble character !
Fig. 8. — A good, maternally governing, original woman,
who in many things is capable of all she wills. The lower
features have much noble simplicity ; the forehead is san-
guine ; the eye sanguine-choleric, and the nose and mouth
sanguine-phlegmatic.
Fig. 9. — This countenance contains more than might be
suspected. The forehead has clear and capacious understand-
ing : astonishingly acute, virgin perception in the nose ; mild
eloquent diction in the mouth and chin; distinguishing love
in the religious eye. The remaining features natively cold
and dry.
Fig. 10. — Forehead, eye, nose, and mouth, individually, are
expressive of a capacious and extraordinary woman. If this
forehead does not easily receive and restore with additions, if
this nose does not produce something uncommon, and if this
eye has not its moments of genius, then will I renounce aU
pretensions to physiognomy.
Fig. 11.* — Except the smallness of the nostril, and the
distance of the eyebrow from the outline of the forehead, no
one can mistake the princely, the superior, the mascuUne
firmness of this, nevertheless feminine, but fortunate, inno-
cent, and kind countenance.
• The German Index refers to this plate as Catharine II. but the
sovereign of all the Russias was so well known, that the Editor pro-
bably thought it would be superfluous to wnte her name under her
portrait.
4G1
ONE HUNDRED
PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES.
GENERAL KULE.
If the first moment in which a person ap{)ears, in a proper
light, be entirely advantageous for him ; if his first impression
have in it nothing repulsive or oppressive, and produce in thee
no kind of constraint ; if thou feel thyself in his presence
continually more cheerful and free, more animated, and con-
tented with thyself, though he do not fiatter thee, or even
speak to thee ; be certain — that he will always, so long as no
person intervenes between you, gain upon thee and never lose.
Nature has formed you for each other. You will be able to
say to each other much in a little. Study, however, carefully,
and delineate the most speaking traits.
II.
GENERAL HULE,
Some countenances gain greatly upon us the more they are
known, though they please not at the fiirst moment.
There must be a principle of dis-harmony between thee and
them, to prevent them from producing their full effect at first ;
and a principle of harmony by which they produce it more and
more every time they are seen.
Seek diligently the trait which does not harmonize with
thee. If thou find it not in the mouth, be not too much
462 PHYSIOGNOMJNICAL RULES.
disheartened ; shouldest thou find it there, observe carefully
in what moments, and on what occasions, it most clearly
displays itself.
III.
GENEIfAL KULE.
Whoever is most unlike, yet like to himsdf ; tlmt is as
various, yet as simple as possible ; as changeable, yet un-
changeable, and harmonizing, as possible, with all animation
and activity ; whose most moveable traits never lose the cha-
racter of the firm whole, but are ever conformable to it — let
him be to thee sacred. — But wherever thou perceivest the
contrary — a conspicuous opposition between the firm fun-
damental character and the moveable traits — there be ten-
fold on thy guard — ^for there is — folly or obliquity of under-
standing.
IV.
GENERAL RULE.
Observe the moments, rapid as lightning, of complete sur-
prise. He who in these moments can preserve the lineaments
of his countenance favourable and noble: he who then dis-
covers no fatal trait ; no trait of malignant joy, envy, or cold-
contemning pride, has a physiognomy and a character capable
of abiding every proof to which mortal and sinful man can
be subjected.
GENERAL RULE.
Very discreet, or very cold, or very dull, but never truly
wise, never warmly animated, never capable of fine sensibility
or tenderness; are those the traits of whose countenances
never conspicuously change.
Very discreet, when the lineaments of the countenance are
well proportioned, accurately defined, strongly pronounced.. ;
PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 463
Very dull, when the lineaments of the countenance are flat,
without gradation, without character, without flexion, or un-
dulation.
VI.
GE>fERAL RULE.
Of him whose figure is oblique —
Whose mouth is oblique —
Whose walk is oblique —
Whose handwriting is oblique-; — ^that is, in an unequal irre-
gular direction. —
Of him the manner of thinking, character, and conduct are
oblique, inconsistent, partial, sophistic, false, sly, crafty, whim-
sical, contradictory, coldly-sneering, devoid of sensibility.
VII.
FOREHEAD.
When a finely-arched forehead has in the middle, between
the eyebrows, a slightly discernible, perpendicular, not too
long wrinkle, or two parallel wrinkles of that kind — especially
when the eyebrows are marked, compressed, and regular, it is
to be ranked among the foreheads of the first magnitude. —
Such foreheads, beyond all doubt, appertain only to wise and
mascuUne mature characters ; and when they are found in
females, it is difficult to find any more discreet, and sensible ;
more betokening royal dignity, and propriety of manners,
VIII.
FOREHEAD.
That forehead betokens weakness of intellect which has in
the middle and lower part a scarcely observable long cavity —
being itself, consequently long — I say scarcely observable ; for
when it is conspicuous, every thing is changed.
464 rHYSIOGNOMONICAIi ritlks.
IX.
FOREHEAD.
Porelieads inclining to bo long, with a close-drawn wrinkle-
less skin, which exhibit no lively cheerful wrinkles even in
their few moments of joy, are cold, malign, suspicious, severe,
selfish, censorious, conceited, mean, and seldom forgive.
X.
FOBEHEAU.
Strongly projecting, in the upper part very retreating fore-
heads, with arched noses, and a long under part of the counte-
nance — continually hover over the depths of folly.
XI.
FOREHEAD.
Every forehead which above projects, and below sinks in
towards the eye, in a person of mature age, is a certain sign
of incurable imbecility.
XII.
FOREHEAD.
The fewer hollows, arches, and indentations ; and the more
of smooth surface and apparently rectilineal contour are ob-
servable in a forehead; the more is that forehead common,
mediocre, destitute of ideas, and incapable of invention.
XIII.
FOREHEAD.
There are finely-arched foreheads that appear almost great
and indicative of genius, and yet are little other than foolish.
niYrilOGNOMONICAL KULES. 465
or only half-wise. This mimickry of wisdom is discernible in
the scantiness, or in the wildness and perplexity of the eye-
brows.
XIV.
FOKEHEAD.
Long foreheads with somewhat spherical knobs in the upper
partj not commonly very retreating, have always an inseparable
three-fold character — the glance of genius with little of a
cool analyzing understanding — pertinacity with indecision ; —
coldness with impetuosity. — With these they have also some-
what refined and noble.
XV.
WRINKLES OF THE FOREHEAD.
Oblique wrinkles in the forehead, especially when they are
nearly parallel, or appear so, are certainly a sign of a poor,
oblique, suspicious mind.
XVI.
WRINKLES OP THE FOREHEAD.
Parallel, regular, not too deep wrinkles of the forehead, or
parallel interrupted, are seldom found except in very intelli-
eent, wise, rational, and justly-thinking persons.
XVII.
WRINKLES OF THE FOREHEAD.
Foreheads, the upper half of which is intersected with con-
spicuous, especially if they are circularly arched, wrinkles,
while the under is smooth and wrinkleless,. are certainly dull
and stupid, and almost incapable of any abstraction.
H H
466 PHYSIOGNOMONIOAL HULES.
XVIII.
WRINKLES OP THE FOREHEAD.
Wrinkles of the forehead which, on the slightest motion of
the skin, sink deeply downward, are much to be suspected of
weakness.
If the traits are stationary, deeply indented, and sink
very deeply downwards, — entertain no doubt of weakness
of mind, or stupidity, combined with little sensibility and
avarice.
But let it be remembered, at the same time, that genius,
most lusuriant in abilities, usually has a line which sinks
remarkably do\vnwards in the middle, under three, almost
horizontal, parallel lines.
XIX.
WRINKLES OP THE POREHEAD.
Perplexed, deeply indented, wrinkles of the forehead, in
opposition to each other, are always a certain sign of a harsh,
perplexed, and difficult to manage, character.
A square superficies between the eyebrows, or a gate-likff
vsrrinkleless breadth, which remains wrinkleless when all around
it is deeply furrowed — Oh ! that is a certain sign of the
utmost weakness and confusion of intellect.
XX.
WRINKLES OP THE POREHEAD.
Rude, harsh, indelicately suspicious, vain-glorious, ambi-
tious, are all those in whose foreheads are formed strong, con-
fused, oblique wrinkles, when with side-long glance they listen
on the watch with open mouth.
PHYSIOGNOMONIOAL EULES, 467
XXI.
Eyes that are very large, and at the same time of an ex-
tremely clear blue, and almost transparent when seen in pro-
file, denote a ready and great capacity ; also a character of
extreme sensibility, difficult to manage, suspicious, jealous,
and easily excited against others ; much inclined likewise by
nature to enjoyment, and curious inquiry.
XXII.
EYES.
Small, black, sparkling eyes — under strong black eyebrows
— deep sunken .in jesting-laughter, are seldom destitute of
cunning, penetration, and artful simulation. — If they are un-
accompanied by a jesting mouth, they denote cool reflection,
taste, elegance, accuracy, and an inclination rather to avarice
than generosity.
XXIII.
Eyes which, seen in profile, run almost parallel with the
profile of the nose, without however standing forwards from
the level of the head, and projecting from under the eyelids —
always denote a weak organization ; and, if there be not some
decisive contradicting lineament, feeble powers of mind.
XXIV.
EYES.
Eyes which discover no wrinkles, or a great umnber of very
small long wrinkles, when they appear cheerful or amorous, .
always appertain only to little, feeble, pusillanimous characters,
or even betoken total imbecility.
468 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES.
XXV.
EYES.
Eyes with long, sharp, especially if horizontal, corners —
that is, such as do not turn downwards — with thick-skinned
eyelids, which appears to cover half the pupil, are sanguine
and indicative of genius.
XXVI.
EYES.
Eyes which are large, open, and clearly transparent, and
which sparkle with rapid motion under sharply- dehneated
eyelids — ^always certainly denote five qualities : —
Quick discernment. .
Elegance and taste.
Irritability.
Pride. And,
Most violent love of women.
XXVII.
Eyes with weak small eyebrows, with little hair, and verj
long concave eye-lashes, denote partly a feeble constitution of
body, and partly a phlegmatic-melancholic weakness of mind.
XXVIII.
EYES.
Tranquilly -powerful, quick -glancing, mildly -penetrating,
calmly-serene, languishing, melting, slowly-moving eyes ; eyes
which hear while they see, enjoy, drink in, tinge and colour
their object like themselves, and are a medium of voluptuous
and spiritual enjoyment — are never very round, nor entirely
PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 469
open ; never deep sunken, or far projecting ; never have obtuse
corners, or sharp ones turning downwards.
XXIX.
EYES.
Deep-sunken, small, sharply-delineated, dull, blue eyes,
under a bony, almost perpendicular forehead, which in the
lower part sinks somewhat inwards, and above is conspicuously
rounded — are never to be observed in penetrating and wise,
but generally in proud, suspicious, harsh, and cold-hearted
characters.
XXX.
The more the upper eyelid, or the skin below or above the
ball of the eye, appears projecting and well-defined, the»more
it shades the pupil, and above, retires under the eye-bone ; the
more has the character of spirit, refined sense, amorous dis-
position, true, sincere, constant delicacy.
XXXI.
KVES.
Eyes which, in the moment when they are fixed on the
most sacred object of their adoration, express not veneration,
and inspire not seriousness and reverence, can never make
claim to beauty, nor sensibility, nor spirituality. Trust them
not. They cannot love nor be beloved. No lineament of the
countenance full of truth and power can be found with them.
And which are such eyes ? Among others all very project-
ing rolling eyes, v^ith oblique lips — all deep-sunken, small eyes,
under high, perpendicular, hard bony foreheads — with skulls
having a steep descent from the top of the head to the begin-
ning of the hair.
470 PJIYSIOGNOMONICAIi RULES.
XXXII.
EYES.
Eyes which show the whole of the pupil, and white below
and above it, are either in a constrained and unnatural state ;
or only observable in restless, passionate, half-isimple persons,
and never in such as have a correct, mature, sound, unwaver-
ing understanding.
XXXIII.
Fixed, wide open, projecting eyes, in insipid countenances,
are pertinacious without firmness, dull and foolish with pre-
tension to wisdom, cold though they wish to appear warm,
but are only suddenly heated, without inherent warmth.
XXXIV.
EYEBROWS.
A clear, thick, roof-shaped, over-shadowing eyebrow, which
has no wild luxuriant bushiness, is always a certain sign of
a sound, manly, mature understanding ; seldom of original
genius; never of volatile, aerial, amorous tenderness, and
spirituality. Such eyebrows may indicate statesmen, coun-
sellors, framers of plans, experimentalists; but very seldom
bold, aspiring adventurous minds of the first magnitude.
XXXV.
' EYEBROWS.
Horizontal eyebrows, rich, and clear, always denote under-
standing, coldness of heart, and capacity for framing plans.
Wild eyebrows are never found with a mild, ductile, pliable
character.
Eyebrows waving above the eyes, short, thick, interrupted.
PJIYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 471
not long nor broad — for the most part denote capacious me-
mory, and ai-e only found with ingenious, flexile, mild, and
good characters.
XXXVI.
EYEBROWS.
Thick, black, strong eyebrows, which decline downwards,
and appear to lie close upon the eye, shading deep large eyes,
and accompanied by a sharp, indented, uninterrupted wrinkle
of the cheek, which, on the slightest motion, manifests con-
tempt, disdain, and cold derision ; having above them a con-
spicuously bony forehead, are only to be consulted for advice
when revenge is sought, or the brutal desire of doing injury to
others entertained — in other respects they are to be treated
in as yielding a manner as possible, and that yielding as much
as possible concealed.
XXXVII.
A nose physiognomonically good is of unspeakable weight in
the balance of physiognomy : it can be outweighed by nothing
whatever. It is the sum of the forehead, and the root of the
underpart of the countenance. Without gentle archings,
slight indentations, or conspicuous undulations, there are no
noses which are physiognomonically good, or intellectually
great.
Without some slight sinking in, or excavation, in the tran-
sition from the forehead to the nose, though the nose should
be considerably arched — we are not to conceive any noses to
be physiognomonically great.
472 PIIYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES.
XXXVIII.
Noses which are much tviriied downwards are never truly
good, truly cheerful, or noble, or great. Their thoughts and
inclinations always tend to earth. They are close, cold, heart-
less, incommunicative; often maliciously sarcastic, ill humoured,
or extremely hypochondriac, or melancholic. When arched
in the upper part, they are fearful and voluptuous.
XXXIX.
NOSE.
Noses which are somewhat turned up at the point, and con-
spicuously sink in at the root (or top) under a rather perpen-
dicular than retreating forehead, are by nature inclined to
pleasure, ease, jealousy, pertinacity. At the same time they
may possess refined sense, eloquence, benevolence ; and be
rich in talents.
XL.
NOSE.
Noses without any remarkable character, without gradation,
without curvature, without undulation, without any assignable
delineation, may indeed be found with rational, good, and,
occasionally in some degree, superior characters ; but never
with such as are truly great and excellent.
XII.
NOSE.
Noses which have on both sides many incisions, or lines,
that become more visible on the slightest motion, and never
entirely disappear even in a state of complete rest, betoken a
PHYSIOGNOMOHICAL RULES. 473
heavy, oppressive, frequently a hypochondriac, and frequently
a maliciously-knavish character.
XLII.
NOSE.
Noses which easily and continually turn up in wrinkles, are
seldom to be found in truly good men, as those which will
scarcely wrinkle, even with an effort, are in men consummately
wicked.
When noses which not only easily wrinkle, but have the
traces of these wrinkles indented in them, are found in good
men ; these good, well-disposed men, are half-fools.
XLIII.
NOSE.
Tumed-up noses, in rude, choleric men, under high, in the
lower part arched, intelligent foreheads, with a projecting
underUp, are usually insupportably harsh, and fearfully despotic.
XLIV.
A hundred flat snub-noses may be met with in men of great
prudence, discretion, and abilities of various kinds. But when
the nose is very small, and has an unappropriate upper lip ; or
when it exceeds a certain degree of flatness, no other feature
or lineament of the countenance can rectify it.
XLV.
LLVEAMENTS OP THE CHEEKS.
The trait or lineament extending from the sides of the
nostrils towards the end of the mouth is one of the most
significant.
474 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES.
On its obliquity, its length, its proximity to, or distance
from, the mouth, depends the evidence of the whole cha-
racter.
If it is curved, without gradation, or undulation, it is a
certain sign of stupidity.
The same when its extremity joins, without an interval, to
the ends of the lips.
The same when it is at a great distance from the ends
of the lips.
XLVI.
MNEAMENTS OP THE CHEEKS.
Whenever, in laughter, three parallel circular curves are
formed, there is a fund of folly in the character of the person.
XLVII.
MOUTH.
Every mouth which is fall as broad again as the eye, that
is, from the comer towards the nose to the internal end of the
eye, both measured with the same rectilinear measure, denotes
dulness or stupidity.
XLVIII.
MOUTH,
When the under lip, with the teeth, projects horizontally,
the half of the breadth of the mouth seen in profile, expect,
allowing for other gradations, one of the four following quali-
ties, or all the four.
Stupidity.
Hudeness.
Malignity.
Avarice.
PnYSIOGNOMONICAIi RULES. 471
XLIX.
MOUTH.
Never entertain any prejudice against a man who, silent anct
speaking, listening and inquiring, answering and relating,
laughing and weeping, mournful and cheerful — ^has an either
graceful, or at least guileless mouth, which retains its fair
proportion, and never discovers a disgusting malignant tooth.
— But whoever trembles with his lips, especially the one-half
of the upper lip, and endeavours to conceal that trembling,
though his satirical ridicule may be instructive to thee, it
will deeply wound thee.
L.
MOUTH.
All disproportion between the upper and under lip, is a sign
of folly or wickedness.
The wisest and best men have well-proportioned upper and
under lips.
Very large, though well-proportioned lips, always denote a
gross, sensual, indelicate ; — ^and sometimes a stupid or wicked
man.
LI.
He who has contempt on his lips, has no love in his
heart.
He, the ends of whose lips sink conspicuously and obliquely
downwards, has contempt on his lips, and is devoid of love in
his heart — especially when the under lip is larger, and more
projecting than the upper.
476 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES
LII.
MOUTH.
In proportion to the cavity in the middle of the under lip,
in a person not otherwise deficient in the signs of intellect, is
the fancy, the sarcastic wit, the coldness of heart, and the
watchful cunning.
LIII.
MOUTH.
When in a person who, in other respects, exhibits proofs of
intellect and a powerful character, we find, not far from the
centre of the middle line of the mouth, an opening, which
scarcely or not at all closes, and suffers the teeth to be seen,
even when the mouth is shut — it is a sign of cold, unmerciful
severity, and contemning malignity, which will seek its ad-
vantage by injury done to others.
LIV.
MOUTH.
Sharply-delineated lipless middle lines of the mouth, which
at the ends turn upwards, under an (improper) upper lip,
which, seen in profile, is arched from the nose, are seldom
found except in cunning, active, industrious, cold, harsh, flat-
tering, mean, covetous characters.
LV.
He is certainly of a base and malignant disposition who
laughs, or endeavours to conceal a laugh, when mention is
made of the sufierings of a poor man, or the failings of a good
man.
Such characters have commonly little upper or under lip, a
PHYSIOGNOMONICAL KULES. 477
Bharply-delineated middle line of the mouth, which at both
ends turns disagreeably upwards ; and fearful teeth.
LVI.
MOUTH.
A small narrow mouth, under a small nostril, with a circu-
larly-arched forehead, is always easily intimidated, fearful,
feebly vain, and ineloquent. — If accompanied by large, pro-
jecting, dull eyes, and an oblong, bony chin, the signs of
imbecility — especially if the mouth be open — are still more
decisive. But if it only approaches to this conformation, the
character is economical, useful, and prudent.
LVII.
CHIN.
When the chin decisively indicates good sense, the whole
will certainly have the character of discernment and under-
standing.
That chin decisively indicates good sense which is somewhat
incurved, or indented in the middle, of which the under part
somewhat projects, which is marked with various gradations,
incurvations, and lines, and below sinks in somewhat in the
middle.
A long, broad, thick chin — I speak of the bony chin — is
only found in rude, harsh, proud, and violent persons.
LVIII.
tOKiUKAO ANO MOUTH.
Observe the forehead more than any other part of the coun-
tenance, when you would discover what a man is by nature, or
what he may become according to his nature — and the motion-
less closed mouth, when you would know what he actually is.
■ — The open mouth shows the present moment of habituality.
478 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES.
A calm, uneontracted, unconstrained mouth, with well-pro-
portioned lips, under a characteristic, retreating, mild, tender,
easily-moveable, finely-lined, not too sharply-pointed forehead,
should be revered as sacred.
LIX.
STUPIDITY.
Every countenance is stupid, the mouth of which, seen in
profile, is so broad, that the distance of the eye, measuring
from the upper eyelid to the extreme corner of the mouth, is
only twice that breadth.
LX.
STUPIDITY.
Every countenance is stupid, the under part of which,
reckoning from the nose, is divided by the middle line of the
mouth into two equal parts.
LXI.
STUPIDITY.
Every countenance is stupid, the under part of which, taken
from the end of the nose, is less than a third part of the whole
— if it is not stupid it is foolish.
LXII.
STUPIDITY.
Every countenance is stupid, the firm nnder part of which is
considerably longer and larger than either of the two upper
parts.
PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 479
LXIII.
STUPIDITY.
Tlie greater the angle is, which the profile of the eye forms
with the mouth, seen in profile, the more feeble and dull is
the understanding.
LXIV.
STUPIDITY.
Every countenance is by nature dull and stupid, the forehead
of which, measured with a pliant close-fitting measure, is con-
siderably shorter than the nose, measured in the same manner
from the end of the forehead ; though measured perpendiefi-
larly, it should be of the same length.
LXV.
STUPIDITY.
Eveiy countenance is stupid in which the distance from the
corner of the eye to the middle of the side of the nostril is
shorter than from thence to the corner of the mouth.
LXVI.
STUPIDITY.
Every countenance is stupid in which the eyes are dia-
cemibly more distant from each other than the breadth of
an eye.
LXVII.
SOLLY.
He who laughs without an object, with oblique lips ; who
often stands alone without any determinate tendency or direc-
tion ; who salutes by only nodding his head forwards, while his
body remains erect — ^is a fool.
480 PHYSrOSNOMONICAL RULES.
LXVIII.
VARIABLE CHARACTER.
Short perpendicular foreheads, knotted above, strongly and
perplexedly wrinkled, and flat between the eyebrows ; large,
clear, projecting blue-grey eye ; small noses ; long (improper)
upper lips; pale complexion; tremulous lips; — I have found
with intelligent characters, of capacious memory, active, in-
triguing — ^but variable; — sometimes benevolent, sometimes
harshly severe ; — sometimes of acute discernment, and some-
times liable to the grossest misconceptions and mistakes.
LXIX.
SOPHISTS, KNAVES.
Small, weak, ill-defined eyes, with a watchful glance; a
leaden-coloured complexion; smooth, short, black hair; a
turned-up nose ; a strongly-projecting under lip which turns
upwards, accompanied by a well-formed intelligent forehead,
are seldom found except in consummately-subtle, shameless
sophists ; obstinate wranglers ; artfully-knavish, caballing,
suspicious, self-interested, mean, abominable men.
LXX.
OBSTINAOT.
The higher the forehead, and the less the remainder of the
countenance appears in consequence, the more knotty the con-
cave forehead, the deeper sunken the eye, the less excavation
there is between the forehead and the nose, the more closed
the mouth, the broader the chin, the more perpendicular the
long profile of the countenance — the more unyielding the
obstinacy ; the harsher the character.
PHTSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 481
LXXI.
WOMEN.
Not the thousandth part of what is to be observed may be
conuaitted to writing. — Vanity or pride is the general charac-
ter of all women. — It is only necessary to ofifend one of these
qualities to perceive traits which will enable us to see into the
profound depths of their character. These traits show them-
selves more rarely in the forehead than in the sides of the
nostrils, the WTinkles of the nose and of the cheelis, particu-
larly in a smile.
LXXII.
WOMEN.
No forward, confident woman is formed for friendship. —
Such a character no woman can conceal, however prudent or
artful she may be. Observe, only, the sides of the nose, and
the upper lip, in profile, when mention is made of a female,
whether a rival or not a rival, who excites attention.
LXXIII.
Women with brown, hairy, or bristly warts on the chin,
especially the under part of the chin, or the neck, are com-
monly industrious, active, good housewives, but extremely
sanguine, and amorous to folly, or even to frenzy. They talk
much, and would willingly talk only of one object. They are
easily excited to kindness, but not so easily prevailed on to
become indiflerent. — They must be treated with circumspect,
calm friendship, and kept at a distance by a mildly-cold
dignity of demeanour.
II
482 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES.
LXXIV.
WOMEN.
If the manner of walking of a woman be disgusting, de-
cidedly disgusting, not only disagreeable, but impetuous, with-
out dignity, contemptible, verging sideways — let neither her
beauty allure thee to her, nor her understanding deceive thee,
nor the confidence she may seem to repose in thee, betray
thee.~Her mouth will be like her gait ; and her conduct
harsh and false like her mouth. She will not thank thee for
all thou mayest do for her, but take fearful revenge for the
slightest thing thou mayest omit. — Compare her gait with the
lines of the forehead, and the wrinkles about the mouth, and
an astonishing conformity will be discovered between thefh.
LXXV.
WOMEN.
Women with rolling eyes, tenderly-moveable, wrinkly, re-
laxed, almost hanging skin, arched nose, ruddy cheeks, seldom
motionless mouth, a conspicuous under-chin, a well-rounded,
wrinkly, tender-skinned forehead — are not only of persuasive
speech, prolific in imagination, ambitious, and distinguished
for capacious memory — but also by nature extremely inclined
to gallantry, and easily forget themselves notwithstanding all
their good sense.
LXXVI.
WOMEN.
A woman with a deeply concave root of the nose, a full
bosom, and a somewhat projecting canine-tooth, will, notwith-
standing her homeliness and unloveliness, more certainly,
more easily, and more irresistibly lead away the whole herd of
grovelling voluptuaries than a perfect beauty. — The worst
prostitutes brought before the spiritual courts are always of
rilYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 483
this conformation. Avoid it as a pestilence, and form no con-
nexion with any such — not even a matrimonial union, though
the reputation be apparently unblemished.
LXXVII.
WARTS.
A broad brown wart on the chin is never found in truly
wise, calmly noble persons — ^but very frequently in such as are
remarkable for imbecihty. — When it is found in the counte-
nance of a man of sense we may be certain of frequent inter-
vals of the most extreme thoughtlessness, absence of mind,
and feebleness of intellect.
LXXVIII.
WARTS.
Many very intelligent agreeable persons have warts on the
forehead, not brown, nor very large, between the eyebrows.
which have nothing in them offensive or disgusting. — But a
large brown wart on the upper-lip, especially when it is bristly,
will be found in no person who is not defective in something
essential, or at least remarkable for some conspicuous failing.
LXXIX.
WORTHLESS INSIGNIFICANCE.
Puffed, withered cheeks ; a large swollen mouth ; a mid-
dling or rather small figure; freckles in the face; weak,
straight hair ; forbidding interrupted wrinkles in the fore-
head ; a skull with a steep descent towards the forehead ;
eyes which never survey an object naturally and tranquilly,
and of which the corners turn upwards — form together a
receipt for a character of worthless insignificance.
484 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES,
LXXX.
CAUTION.
Be on your guard against every one who speaks mildly and
softly, and writes harshly ; against him who speaks little, and
writes much ; against every one who speaks little, and laughs
much, and whose laughter is not free from supercihousness
and contempt. — Such characters are distinguished by short
foreheads, snubbed noses, very small lips, or projecting under-
lips, large eyes, which never can look directly at you, and espe-
cially broad harsh jaw-bones, with a projecting, in the under
part, firm fat, chin.
LXXXI.
HYPOCRISY, IRRESOLUTION.
Weakness and vanity are the parents of hypocrisy. — Where-
ever you discover decisive signs of both these qualities, with
an outward appearance of courteous prepossessing manners,
unmarked feeble traits, with some grace in motion, coldness
with the semblance of ardour — there expect, if not hypocrisy,
irresolution, which borders on hypocrisy.
LXXXII.
THE SMILE.
He who gains on you in a smile, and loses in a laugh — who,
without smiling, appears to smile condescendingly, and when
silent conciliates to him all around him — who when he smiles
or laughs at what is witty or humorous betrays ho cold con-
temning derision — ^who smiles with pleasure when he observes
the joys of innocence, or hears the praise of merit — will have
in his physiognomy and his character every thing noble, every
thing harmonizing.
PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 485
LXXXIII.
TO BE AVOIDKD.
Be circumspect as possible in the presence of a corpulent
choleric man, who continually speaks loud, and never at his
ease, looking round with rolling eyes; who has accustomed
himself to the external parade of politeness and ceremony ;
and who does every thing with slovenliness, and without order.
— In his round, short, snubbed nose, in his open mouth, his
projecting protuberance-producing forehead, his sounding step,
are contempc and harslmess ; half-qualities with pretension to
supereminence ; malignity with the external appearance of
civility and good-humour.
LXXXIV.
TO BE AVOIDED.
Avoid every one who discourses and decides in, a stiff-con-
strained manner, speaking loud and shrill, and without listen-
ing to what is said by others ; whose eyes, then, become larger,
and more projecting; his eyebrows more bristly; his veins
more swelling, his under-lip more advanced ; his neck swollen ;
his hands clenched — and who, as soon as he sits down, becomes
courteously cool; — whose eyes and lips, as it were, recede,
when he is interrupted by the unexpected presence of a great
man who is thy friend.
LXXXV.
AMBIGUOUS CHARACTER.
He, the traits and complexion of whose countenance rapidly
change, and who is anxious to conceal those changes, and can
suddenly assume an easy unconstrained air ; who, especially,
can easily dilate or contract his mouth, and, as it were, have it
under command, particularly when the eye of the observer is
486 PHYSIOGNOMOKIOAL EULES.
turned upon him — has less integrity than prudence ; is more
a man of the world than a philosopher; more a politician
than a man of calm wisdom ; more a boon companion than
a faithful friend.
LXXXVI.
THINKERS.
There is no attentive, just thinker, who does not show that
he is such between the eyebrows and the descent of the fore-
head to the nose. If there be there no indentings or cavities,
refinement or energy, we shall seek in vain in the whole coun-
tenance, the whole man, and in all the acts and operations of
the mind, the thinker, that is the man who will not be satisfied
without true, clear, definite, consequent, and connected ideas.
LXXXVII.
VOLUPTUARIES.
A long, projecting, needle-formed, or a strong, curled, harsh,
rough hair, springing from a brown mole or spot on the chin
or neck, denotes, in a most decisive maimer, very great vo-
luptuousness, which is rarely unaccompanied by great impru-
dence and indiscretion.
LXXXVIII.
HARSH CHARACTERS.
Some ingredients : —
Perpendicular, very high, or very short foreheads, abounding
in knots.
Very sharp, small, short, or rudely-romided noses, with
wide nostrils.
Deeply-indented, long, uninterrupted lineament of the cheeks
or nose.
Lower teeth remarkably projecting, under long, or very
short upper ones.
PlIYSIOGNOMONICAL HULES. 487
LXXXIX.
TO BE AVOIDED.
Whoever, without squinting, is accustomed to look on both
sides at once, with small clear eyes in unequal directions ; who
has besides black teeth ; and, whether of high or low stature,
a bowed back, and an oblique, contemptuous laugh — him avoid,
notwithstanding all his acuteness, knowledge, and wit, as a
false and mean person, destitute of honour, shameless, crafty,
and self-interested.
XC.
TO BE AVOIDED.
Avoid great eyes in small countenances, with small noses,
in persons of little size, who, when they laugh, evidently show
thai they are not cheerful — and amid all the joy they seem
to manifest at your presence, cannot conceal a maUcious
smile.
XCI.
TO BE AVOIDED.
Large, bulky persons, with small eyes ; round, full hanging
cheeks, puffed lips, and a chin resembling a purse or bag ; who
are continually occupied with their own corpulence ; who are
always hawking, spitting, taking and chewing tobacco, blowing
their noses,and on every occasion consult their own ease with-
out regard to others — are, in reality, frivolous, insipid, power-
less, vain, inconstant, imprudent, conceited, voluptuous charac-
ters, difficult to guide, which desire much and enjoy little —
and whoever enjoys little, gives little.
488 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES.
XCII.
TO BE AVOIDED.
He who walks slowly, bending forwards; who retreats in
advancing to meet thee ; who says gross and rude things in a
low and timid voice ; who fixes his eyes on thee so soon as
thou hast turned from him, and never can look thee calmly and
steadily in the face; who speaks well of no person but the
vicious ; who finds faults in every fair character, and has an
objection ready whatever may be affirmed. — Oh! couldest
thou feel his skull ! what concealed misconformation, what
irregular knots, what parchment softness, and at the same
time iron hardness wouldest tfiou fin^! — Avoid him. Thou
losest while in his atmosphere, even though thou mayest
seem to gain.
Observe, I here repeat, the wrinkles of his forehead, when he
crushes a sincere, innocent, religious man, and when he speaks
to a hardened knave. — The perplexity of these will show, with
irresistible evidence, the perplexity of his character.
XCIII.
TO BE AVOroED.
However intelligent, learned, acute, or useful a man may
be, if he continually estimates, or seems to estimate his own
value; if he affects gravity to conceal the want of internal,
active power ; if he walks with measured step, never forgetting
self for even a moment, but exhibiting self in his head, in his
neck, in his shoulder blade ; and yet, in reality, is of a light,
inconsiderate, and malicious disposition, and as soon as he is
alone lays aside all dignity, gravity, and self-display, though at '
no time his egotism — he will never be thy friend.
PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RULES. 489
XCIV.
CAUTION.
When a hasty, rough man is mild, calm, and courteous to
thee alone, and continually endeavours to smile, or excite a
smile, say to thyself — " we can have nothing in common" —
and liastily turn from him, before he can make the lines and
wrinldes of his countenance again pleasing to thee. The line
or wrinkle of the forehead, and that of the cheeks, which
immediately precede his artificial counterfeiting, and which,
in this moment, almost always exhibit themselves strongly,
are the true ones. — Delineate both these, and call them the
warning traits in thy physiognomonical alphabet.
xcv.
DISCOEDANT CHARACTERS.
If thou hast a long, high forehead, contract no friendship
with an almost spherical head ; if thou hast an almost sphe-
rical head, contract no friendship with a long, high, bony fore-
head. — Such dissimilarity is especially imsuitable to matri-
monial union.
XCVI.
TO BE AVOIDED.
Form no connexion with any person who has in his coun-
tenance, to thee, a disgusting trait, however small it may be,
which displays itself at every motion, and seldom entirely dis-
appears ; especially when this trait is found in the mouth, or
the wrinkles about the mouth. You will certainly disagree,
though in other respects there should be much good in his
character.
490 PHYSIOGNOMONICAL RUIJES.
XCVII.
T0T3E AVOIDED.
Avoid him who has a conspicuously oblique look, with an
oblique mouth, and a broad projecting chin — especially when
he addresses to thee civilities with suppressed contempt. —
E emark the lines in his cheeks, which cannot be concealed. —
He will trust thee little ; but endeavour to gain thy confidence
with flatteries, and then seek to betray thee.
XCVIII.
MANLY CHARACTER.
Almost wrinkleless, not perpendicular, not very retreating,
not very flat, not spherical but cup-formed foreheads ; thick,
clear, full eyebrows, conspicuously defining the forehead;
above more than half-open, but not entirely open eyes ; a
moderate excavation between the forehead and a somewhat
arched broad-backed nose ; lips observably waving, not open,
nor strongly closed, nor very small, nor large, nor dispropor-
tioned ; a neither very projecting nor very retreating chin —
are, together, decisive for mature understanding, manly cha-
racter, wise and active firmness.
XCIX.
TO BE AVOIDED.,
He who carries high, and bends backwards, a large or
remarkably small head ; displaying feet so short as to attract
notice ; who making his large eyes larger, continually turns
them sideways, as if he must see every thing over his shoulder;
who listens long in proud silence, and then answers drily,
short, and disapprovingly, concluding with a cold laugh, and
superciliously imposing silence as soon as a reply is attempted
— has at least three unamiable qualities — conceit, pride, ill-
PlIYSIOG^OMONICAL RULES. 491
nature — and most probably adds to these a disposition to
lying, maliciousness, and avarice.
C.
TO BE AVOIDED.
Avoid every large-eyed, full, deep-wrinkled, sharp-lipped,
yeUow-bro\vn, blue-veined, bony countenance, pregnant and
rich in character, which approaches thee with humble flattery
— it will prove to thee an Ahitophel, a Judas, a Satan, if you
treat it with plain truth, and undisguised integrity. It will
lie, and rage against thee, and the very mention of thy name
wiU cause its eyes and veins to swell. — Flattery in harsh, and
hai-shness in yielding countenances, are alike to be feared.
CONCLUSION.
Use, but abuse not ; for thyself and truth
Preserve what nature teaches, and esteem
The friend of nature sacred. What is holy
Cast not to dogs ; nor unto grov'hng swine
Throw precious pearls. Pure to the pure are all things ;
And truth and liberty are ever one.*
* These lines in the original are GcDr.an hexameters, 08 are thoee
which introduce the following essay. — T.
492
REVISION OF THE AUTHOR.
I HAVE carefully read the pnysiognomonieal fragments, both
in manuscript and since it has been printed, and cannot but
give it my perfect approbation. What I found necessary to
correct in the judgments that are added, I have corrected as if
they had been my own, with the knowledge and consent of the
editor ; so that I am as responsible as if they were mine. I
have nothing more to add, or alter. May this endeavour
generate happiness and truth.
J. C. Lavateb,
April 7th, 1783.
493
ON THE
LINES OF ANIMALITY.
iVatuee has all things formed by one great law.
Harmonious and firm, yet ever-varying
In its proportions ; and the wise discern
The object of creation's wondrous power,
E'en in the smallest link of the great chain
Of beings endless, legibly impress'd.
An things by regular degrees arise
From mere existence unto life, from life
To intellectual power ; and each degree
Has its peculiar necessary stamp,
Cognizable in forms distinct and lines.
Man only has the face erect, the nose,
The mouth minute, the eye with acute angle.
The oval regular, encircled round
With tender, flowing, and luxuriant hair.
In him alone are wisdom and beneficence :
He is of measure and of fair proportion
Alone the original. He can enjoy
The great reward of action and inquiry :
The sense refimed, the feeling exquisite
Of the high rank and worth of human nature !
Innumerable attempts have been made to exhibit the grac
dations of form in men and animals, and regularly to systema-
tize and define, in a physiognomonically-mathematical manner,
the peculiar and absolutely fundamental lines of each degree ;
delineating the transition from brutal deformity to ideal
494 ON THE LINKS OP ANIMALITY.
beauty, from satanical hideousness and malignity to divine
exaltation ; from the animality of the frog or the monkey, to
the beginning humanity of the Samoiede, and thence to that
of a Newton and a Kant. These attempts have not been
entirely unsuccessful. I shall here add some notices on this
subject to the preceding miscellaneous rules.
Many men of eminence^ — Albert Durer, Winkelmann, Buf-
fon, Sommering, Blumenbach, Gall — some of them rather as
designers, others more as naturalists, have merited great praise
by their attention to this object. The acute essay of Camper
on the natural difference of the lines of the countenance espe-
cially deserves to be read; for though it may not entirely
satisfy physiognomists, since it does not define certain propor-
tions with sufficient accuracy, it can never be too warmly re-
commended to students of the imitative arts.
It is undeniable that the form of the skull and bones is the
most important and essential object to be considered in such
observations : on this depends the proportion, the develop-
ment, the formation, and, in some degree, the destined func-
tions of the yielding parts ; but these yielding parts are the
magical mirror which shows the half-virtues and half-vices, the
depression and elevation of our internal power, our employment
of the gift of the Divinity.
Nature, the mother of all things, is a living active essence,
and her noblest products are active organizations. She dis-
plays herself in productive products, and the most productive
is her final object.
The more acute, in general, the angle of the profile is, the
legs of which extend either from the closing of the teeth to
the cavity of the ear, and the utmost protuberance of the fore-
head ; or from the extreme end of the nose to the outer angle
of the eye, and the corner of the mouth, which always ends
where, in the skull, the first jaw-tooth begins — the more brutal,
inactive, and unproductive, is the animal.
These angles may with propriety be termed the angles of the
lines of the countenance.
ON THE LINES OF ANIMALITY. 495
These angles have, in every species of animal, and every race
of men, a characteristic minimum and maximum ; an extreme
diminution and extreme magnitude. The former of these
angles, as above defined, is employed by M. Camper for his
gradation from the monkey to the Apollo; and the latter I
had used, before the similar idea of M. Camper was known to
me, as the rule for my observations. All creatures which we
comprehend under the name of man, with all their anomalies,
are included between sixty and seventy degrees of my angle of
the countenance ; and with reference to the other angle be-
tween the seventieth and eightieth degree. — The Chinese has
seventy-five of the latter degrees, the most beautiful European
eighty, and no real natural head, of no age, neither Grecian,
Roman, Persian, or Egyptian, has, or ever had, more. What
exceeds eighty degrees is not found in healthy nature, though
it sometimes may in monstrous births and dropsical heads,
and in the productions of art, in the Roman, and, still more
conspicuously, in the Grecian countenances of divinities and
heroes ; the angle of which is sometimes extended even to a
hundred degrees ; an evident demonstration that the antiques
— let them be considered as beautiful or deformed — are, at
least, not naturally beautiful, not truly human ; a fact vvhich
must be admitted by even the most zealous admirers of
antique beauties. What is below seventy degrees gives the
countenance of the rv^^o of ^ngola and the Calmuc ; and by
a further diminution soon loses all trace of resemblance to
humanity. The line of the countenance of the orang-outang
makes an angle of fifty-eight degrees ; that of the tailed ape,
simia cynomolgus, an angle of forty-two degrees ; and if this
angle be diminished still more, we have a dog, a frog, a bird, a
woodcock ; the line of the countenance becomes continually
more horizontal, the forehead necessarily contracts, the nose
is lost, tlie eye becomes round and more projecting, the
mouth broad, and at length no place is any longer left for
the teeth, which appears to be the natural cause that birds
have no teeth.
496 ON THE LINES OF ANIMALITY.
PLATES LXXVIII. LXXIX.
To render these ideas more intelligible and evident, the
reader needs only cast a glatice on the annexed plates of pro
files, which will explain and elucidate my theory. The gradual
transition from the head' of a frog to the Apollo — which, whei)
we compare the 1st and 24th figures alone, must appear almost
impossible without a salto mortale, an extravagant leap and
unwarrantable violence — exhibits itself, as I may say, in them,
in such a manner that we are more surprised it should be so
natural than that it is abrupt and forcedj and we immediately
find the commentary on what we see in our own feelings, with-
out a single word of explanation. Fig. 1, is entirely the
frog, the swollen representative of disgusting bestiality; 2, is
likewise a complete frog, but a frog of an improved kind ; 3,
may be considered as a more intelligent frog ; 4, has still
somewhat of the nature and appearance of the frog ; 5, is no
longer a frog ; 6, is still less so ; the round eye has lengthened.
In 7, there is a sensible advance towards a nose and chin.
In 8, the progress is small, but the angle between the mouth
and eye is impossible in any animal of very-low degree. The
progress is much more conspicuous in 9. The lips of 10, are
much more defined. Here commences the first degree of the
cessation of brutality. In 11, a greater progress is made
towards a forehead and a mouth. In 12, begins the lowest
degree of humanity ; the angle of the countenance is indeed
not much larger than sixty degrees, very little raised above
brutality, yet nearer to the negro than the orang-outang ; and
the projecting nose and defined lips decisively indicate com-
mencing humanity. 13, expresses weak limited humanity ; the
eye and forehead are not yet sufiiciently human. 14, has the
expression of benevolent weakness. 15, has all the attributes
of humanity, and the angle of the countenance contains
seventy degrees. 16, gradually advances towards reason. 17,
is still more rational ; but the eye, forehead, and chin are
feeble. The signs of intelligence are manifest in 18 ; but
still more conspicuous in 19. In 20, the progress is not dis-
cernible nor expressed as it ought to be : it is in fact an
j'LtrKix.nm.
j'LiTi: LYm
ON THE LINES OF ANIMALITY. 497
unmeaning supplementary countenance. Much more intelligent
is 21. The three last heads are on the whole elegant, but ill-
delineated : so dull a forehead, so vacant an eye, as in 24, is
not suitable to the far-striking, the penetrating divinity.
PLATE LXXX.
On the same principles, an angle, or rather a triangle, of the
countenance may be assigned for the full face, and applied
with great advantage for the determination of the degrees of
animality. Let a horizontal line be drawn from the outer
corner of one eye to that of the other, and from its extremities
draw lines accurately, bisecting the middle line of the mouth,
and forming an isosceles triangle, and you will have my angle
of the countenance for the full face. This angle in the frog
contains five-and-twenty degrees, and is increased to fifty-six
degrees, an angle which Aristotle, Montesquieu, Pitt, and
Frederic the Great, have in common with the Pythian Apollo.
The last plates, which exhibit the progressive gradation from
the frog to the human countenance seen in front, according to
this principle, will serve for the elucidation of iny meaning,
and assist the reader in making his own observations.
When, lastly, the length of the line of the mouth is to that
of a lino drawn from the outer corner of one eye to that of the
other, as thirteen to twenty-seven, and the distance of these
two linos equal to the length and half the length of the line of
the mouth, or a^* nineteen and a half ; or when the distance of
the two inner corners of the eye from each other is to the
length of the line of the mouth, as three to four ; we have in
these the proportional lines cf ostvaordinary qualities : such a
trapezium is the index of wisdom and greatness.
K K
INDEX.
Abstract tiiougbt, seat of, the
signs of, 301.
Accidents, objection drawn from,
obviated,- 159.
Advantages of physiognomy, 41.
Albert Durer, 33, 154.
comparison between, and
Raphael, 40.
Alembert (D') 82.
All things judged by their phy-
siognomy, 15.
Anatomy indispensable to the
physiognomist, 66.
Anecdotes, physiognomonical,
326.
Anger, its eflfects and e.xpressioD,
13.
Animal life, 8.
Animality, lines of, 493.
Animals, remarks of Aristotle
concerning, 206.
observations on some,
214.
Anson (Lord) 59.
Apparitions, 377.
Argenson (D') 428 (Plate LVI.
Fig. 12.)
Aristotle, extracts from, 206.
Ass, the, 216.
Attention, criterion of the under-
standing, 162.
Attila, 36
Author, the, a word rjjncem-
ing, 4.
physiognomy of, 124.
memoirs of, xvii.
the, his early resolution
of becoming a minister of
Christ, xxiii.
ordained, 1762, xxxii
■ his indignation excited
against the bailiff of Grunin-
gen, xxxii.
his journey to Berlin, in
1763, xxxvi.
- his defence of Krugot'a
" Christ in Solitude," xl.
■ marriage with Miss
Schinz, xlv.
his letter to Gassner, ex-
tract from, xcvii.
Bashkir and Georgian, 430.
Basis of the forehead, 148.
Bauhin (Caspar) 245.
Bear (the) 211.
Beasts, 204.
Becker (Balthazar) 128.
Behem (Jacob) 165.
Benevolence visible from the
teeth, 15'J.
Birds, 223.
Blorjnart, 155.
Blyhof, 153
500
INDEX.
Boar (the wild) 215.
Bodmer, 275 (Plate LI. Fig.
11.)
Bones, formation and growth of,
233, 235.
diflPerence between man and
beast in the structure of, 209.
• cause of the distortion of,
236.
Bonnet, character of, 38.
Books on physiognomy, 164.
Boucher, 258.
Brand (SeTiastian) 154
Brun (JiC) 155.
Brutal and human physiognomy,
thoughts on, 212.
Buffon, extracts from, on national
physiognomy, 341
Burke, quotation from, 313.
Busts (plaster) utility of, to the
physiognomist, 149.
Cachiopin (Jacobus de) 179
(Plate XXIII. Fig. 11.)
Callot, 154.
Camel (the) 214.
Campanella, 313.
Camper, extract of a letter from,
353.
Caracci (Annibal) 154
Caricature, m what sense the
word is used by the author, 58.
Cassowary (the) 224.
Cat (the) 211, 215.
Caterpillar (the) 226
Catherine II. 458 (Plate LXXVII.
Fig. 11.)
Caution, 484, 489.
Chambre, 165.
Character at rest, expression of,
12.
- impassioned, expression
Character, ambiguous, 486.
harsh, 486.
manly, 490.
Characters (strong) features of,
115.
most conspicuous m
shades, 192.
• discordant, 489.
to be avoided, 485, 487,
489, 490.
Charles XII. skull of, characte-
ristic, 240.
Children, skulls of, 247.
Chin, 396, 454, 477-
Chiromancy, physiognomy de-
gradingly compared^ to, 20.
Chodowiecki, 155, 182.
Christ, physiognomy of, 48.
in Solitude, Bahrdt's at-
tack on, xl.
.- Lavater's de-
of, 12
• variable, 480.
fence of, xl. xli.
Churchill, 258.
Cicero, 185.
Claramontius (Scipio) 166.
quotation
from, 387.
Clark, 35.
Classification of the outlines of
the countenance, 192.
Clergy, a word to the, 412.
Cola, 153.
portrait of, (Plate XXIII.
Fig. 4.)
Colours, physiognomy of, 304.
Congeniality of the human form,
180.
Continuity of nature, 159.
Conversation with wise and good
men, importance of, 167.
Countenance, manner of study-
ing the, 140.
almost preterna-
tural, 327.
INDEX.
501
Countenance, three sections of,
141.
foolish, 298.
influence of the
imagination on the, 374.
Countenances, all capable of the
excessive degradation or im-
provement, 157.
physiognomonical
elucidations of, 413.
^ Smss and Zurich,
424, 425.
Crocodile (the) 218.
Daumer (George) quotation from,
386.
Dead (the) observations on, 149,
370.
Deformity of Socrates, 114.
Descartes, 455 (P1.LXXIII. Fig. 6.)
Difficulties of physiognomy, 53.
Disadvantages of physiognomy,
45.
Diseases, importance of physiog-
nomy in the cure of, 16.
Dispositions, no one bom with
good or bad, 116.
Dissimulation, 17, 83.
featvu-es , which
cannot be changed by, 84.
Distortion of the countenance by
▼ice, 110.
Dog (the) 210.
Douw (Gerard) 154.
Dragon fly, 226.
Drawing (art oO indispensable to
the physiognomist, 66.
Dread