PHYSIOGNOMY.

CHAP. I.

INTRODUCTION.

Physiognomy a Science. The Truth of Physiognomy. The Advantages of Physiognomy.-Its Disadvantages.-The Ease and Difficulty of studying Physiognomy.-A Word concerning the Author.

It has been asserted by thousands, that "though there may be some truth in physiognomy, still it never can be a science." These assertions will be repeated, how clearly soever their objections may be answered, and however little they may have to reply. Physiognomy is as capable of becoming a science as any one of the sciences, mathematics excepted. It is a branch of the physical art, and includes theology and the belles lettres. Like these, it may, to a certain extent, be reduced to rule, and acquire an appropriate character, by which it may be taught.

Whenever truth or knowledge is explained by fixed principles, it becomes scientific, so far as it can be imparted by words, lines, rules, and defini

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tions. The question will stand simply thus: whether it be possible to explain the undeniable striking differences which exist between human faces and forms, not by obscure and 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 folly and wisdom, the magnanimity and meanness, the virtue and vice of the mind? This is the only thing to be decided; and he who, instead of investigating the question, should continue to declaim against it, must either be deficient in the love of truth, or in logical reasoning.

The experimental philosopher can only proceed with his discoveries to a certain extent; only can communicate them by words; can only say, "Such and such are my experiments, such my remarks, such is the number of them, and such are the inferences I draw: pursue the track that I have explored." 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 discover to that feebler vision that cannot discover for itself? Is any science brought to perfection at the moment of its birth? Does not genius continually, with eagle eye and flight, anticipate centuries? How long did the world wait for Wolf? Who, among the moderns, is more scientific than Bonnet? Who more accu

rately distinguishes falsehood from truth? Yet to whom would he be able to communicate his sudden perception of the truth; the result or resources 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, theology, and all the arts and sciences? Is it not the same with painting, at once the mother and daughter of physiognomy?

How infinitely does he, who is painter or poet born, soar beyond all written rule! But must he, who possesses feelings and power which are not to be reduced to rule, be pronounced unscientific? So, physiognomical truth may, to a certain degree, be defined, communicated by signs and words, as a science.. This is the look of contempt, this of innocence. Where such signs are, such and such properties reside.

There can be no doubt 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, the 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, who, 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.

Considerations like these will be sufficient to make it received as a truth, not requiring farther demonstration, that there must be a certain native analogy between the external varieties of the countenance and form, and the internal varieties of the mind. Anger renders the muscles protuberant; and shall not therefore an angry mind and protuberant muscles be considered 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? Is this the effect of accident? Ought it not rather to be considered as sympathy, an interchangeable and instantaneous effect, when we perceive that, at the very moment the understanding is most acute and penetrating, and the wit the most lively, the motion and fire of the eye undergo, at that moment, the most visible alteration?

But all this is denied by those who oppose the