1 easily disguised than his countenance. 1 In this case, however, I think the air of the whole face is much more expressive than the lines of it: the truth of it is, the air is generally nothing else but the inward disposition of the mind made visible. Those who have established physiognomy into an art, and laid down rules of judging men's tempers by their faces, have regarded the features much more than the air. pretty epigram on this subject. Martial has a Crine ruber, niger ore, brevis pede, lumine læsus; Ep. liv. 12. Thy beard and head are of a different die; I have seen a very ingenious author on this subject, who founds his speculations on the supposition, that as a man hath in the mould of his face a remote likeness to that of an ox, a sheep, a lion, an hog, or any other creature, he hath the same resemblance in the frame of his mind, and is subject to those passions which are predominant in the creature that appears in his countenance. Accordingly he gives the prints of several faces that are of a different mould, and by a little overcharging the likeness, discovers the figures of these several kinds of brutal faces in human features. I remember in the life of the famous Prince 2 1 'The true use of speech is not so much to express our wants as to conceal them.' Goldsmith's Bee, No. 8. (Works, vol. i. p. 51, Putnam's ed.) The most recent form in which I remember to have seen this thought, is in one of the numberless witticisms attributed to Talleyrand.—G. 2 JB. Della Porta, born at Naples 1540, died 1615: founder of the Academy of the Secreti: discoverer of the camera obscura; author of various scientific works, besides fourteen comedies, two tragedies, and a tragi comedy. The work here referred to, was published in 1586, under the title of De humana physiognomia.—G. VOL. IV.-11 of Condé, the writer observes, the face of that prince was like the face of an eagle, and that the prince was very well pleased to be told so. In this case, therefore, we may be sure, that he had in his mind some general implicit notion of this art of physiognomy which I have just now mentioned; and that when his courtiers told him his face was made like an eagle's, he understood them in the same manner as if they had told him, there was something in his looks which shewed him to be strong, active, piercing, and of a royal descent. Whether or no the different motions of the animal spirits in different passions, may have any effect on the mould of the face when the lineaments are pliable and tender, or whether the same kind of souls require the same kind of habitations, I shall leave to the consideration of the curious. In the mean time I think nothing can be more glorious than for a man to give the lie to his face, and to be an honest, just, good-natured man, in spite of all those marks and signatures which nature seems to have set upon him for the contrary. This very often happens among those, who, instead of being exasperated by their own looks, or envying the looks of others, apply themselves entirely to the cultivating of their minds, and getting those beauties which are more lasting, and more ornamental. I have seen many an amiable piece of deformity: and have observed a certain chearfulness in as bad a system of features as ever was clapped together, which hath appeared more lovely than all the blooming charms of an insolent beauty. There is a double praise due to virtue, when it is lodged in a body that seems to have been prepared for the reception of vice; in many such cases the soul and the body do not seem to be fellows. Socrates was an extraordinary instance of this nature. There chanced to be a great physiognomist in his time at Athens, who had made strange discoveries of men's tempers and inclinations by their outward appearances. Socrates' disciples, that they might put this artist to the trial, carried him to their master, whom he had never seen before, and did not know he was then in company with him." After a short examination of his face, the physiognomist pronounced him the most lewd, libidinous, drunken old fellow, that he had ever met with in his whole life. Upon which the disciples all burst out a laughing, as thinking they had detected the falsehood and vanity of his art. But Socrates told them, that the principles of his art might be very true, notwithstanding his present mistake: for that he himself was naturally inclined to those particular vices which the physiognomist had discovered in his countenance, but that he had conquered the strong dispositions he was born with by the dictates of philosophy. " 1 2 We are, indeed, told by an ancient author, that Socrates very much resembled Silenus in his face; which we find to have been very rightly observed from the statues and busts of both that are still extant; as well as on several antique seals and precious stones, which are frequently enough to be met with in the cabinets of the curious. But, however observations of this nature may sometimes hold, a wise man should be particularly cautious how he gives credit to a man's outward appearance. It is an irreparable injustice we are guilty of towards one another, when we are prejudiced by the looks and features of those whom we do not know. How often do we conceive hatred against a person of worth; or fancy a man to be proud and ill-natured by his as 1 Cum multa in conventu vitia collegisset in eum Zopyrus, qui se naturam cujusque ex forma prospicere profitebatur, derisus est a cæteris, qui illa in Socrate vitia non agnoscerent: ab illo autem Socrate sublevatus, cum illa sibi signa, sed ratione, a se dejecta diceret. Cicero Tuscul. iv. c. 37.-G. 2 V. Plato. Symp. c. 32—and Xen. Symp. c. 5.—G. L. a Better," and did not know to be then in company with him," as refer ring to "whom."-H. pect, whom we think we cannot esteem too much when we are acquainted with his real character? Dr. Moore, in his admirable System of Ethics, reckons this particular inclination to take a prejudice against a man for his looks, among the smaller vices in morality, and, if I remember, gives it the name of a Prosopolepsia.1 L. As my correspondents upon the subject of love are very numerous, it is my design, if possible, to range them under several 1 A Greek word used in the N. T. Rom. ii. 11, and Eph. vi. 9, where it is said that God is no respecter of persons. Here it signifies a prejudice against a person formed from his countenance, &c., too hastily.-C. ી Rightly so called, though now much neglected and almost forgotten.-H. heads, and address myself to them at different times. The first. branch of them, to whose service I shall dedicate this paper, are those that have to do with women of dilatory tempers, who are for spinning out the time of courtship to an immoderate length, without being able either to close with their lovers, or to dismiss them. I have many letters by me filled with complaints against this sort of women. In one of them no less a man than a brother of the coiff1 tells me, that he began his suit Vicesimo nono Caroli Secundi, before he had been a twelvemonth at the Temple; that he prosecuted it for many years after he was called to the bar; that at present he is a serjeant at law; and notwithstanding he hoped that matters would have been long since brought to an issue, the fair one still demurs. I am so well pleased with this gentleman's phrase, that I shall distinguish this sect of women by the title of Demurrers. I find by another letter from one that calls himself Thyrsis, that his mistress has been demurring above these seven years. But among all my plaintiffs of this nature, I most pity the unfortunate Philander, a man of a constant passion and plentiful fortune, who sets forth, that the timorous and irresolute Sylvia has demurred till she is past child-bearing. Strephon appears by his letter to be a very choleric lover, and irrevocably smitten with one that demurs out of self-interest. He tells me with great passion, that she has bubbled him out of his youth; that she drilled him on to five and fifty, and that he verily believes she will drop him in his old age if she can find her account in another. I shall conclude this narrative with a letter from honest Sam. Hopewell, a very pleasant fellow, who it seems has at last married a demurrer; I must only premise, that Sam, who is a very good bottle companion, has been the diversion of his friends, upon account of his pas 1i. e., a sergeant at law.—C. |