FACE-VALUES.
TO say of a man that he is " a judge of men " is equivalent to saying that he is fitted to be a ruler of men—and it is a compliment which no man on earth would scorn. To be such a judge it is necessary to know a great many people, more or less intimately, in order to establish in our own minds some theory of connexion between a man's face, voice, and bearing and his type of mind, tone of thought, and habit of conduct. The heads of the professions, leaders among working men, and women whose work or whose play necessitates the placation of great numbers of co-workers, or co-pleasure- seekers, stand in the best positions to know their fellow- creatures. It is their business to remark and to remember the outward indications of mind, character, and disposition, and they have countless opportunities of furthering their studies. Until lately the rank-and-file--by which we mean persons of no distinction in whatever social rank they may have been born, people who think of themselves as the " rest of us "- have had little chance to become men and women of the world in the best sense of the word. Now, however, this " rest " have far larger facilities than their fathers for the pursuit of Pope's " proper study of mankind " ; such great new facilities, indeed, as cannot fail to modify the "mentality" of those who avail themselves of their privileges.
To be a "judge of men" a man must be a physiognomist, and nowadays every observant person has a chance to master a subject till lately nearly closed to the mass of mankind. We cannot learn a new language unless we have some adequate key; it is no use to learn great portions of it off by heart. In the same way a good memory for faces will never make us men and women of the world unless we have some means of reading their significance. A poor woman in the country who knows only three or four neighbours intimately is little the better mentally because she can recognize every person with whom she has ever sat in church or caught sight of at a flower-show. Her talent would be of immense value if she knew how to use it. Many a woman of business, many a society lady, would give her any sum for her gift if she could but buy it but gifts without opportunities are valueless.
Conditions are changing. Nowadays the most insignificant of us, the person who feels the most keenly his or her incarcer- ation within the walls of a conscribed circle, his or her inability to read the book of human nature whose fascinating pages lie open to more fortunate people, can at least become a physiognomist. To be past-masters in any art requires aptitude, but some aptitude is common where the study of humanity is concerned. The love of gossip, which is only an expression of a longing to know the world, is almost universal. Almost everybody reads the papers, and to all who do read them the features of every prominent man in Europe, and many outside of it, may be familiar. Every one can study in a measure the personnel of politics ; the whole cast of this great play in their habit as they live are shadowed forth for us. We see them ---in shadow—walking, talking, listening, posing for observation, or absolutely unconscious of the presence of any spectator. It is impossible but that the man in the street should judge of his rulers better than he used to do, impossible also but that he should apply his new knowledge in the conduct of his ordinary life. Apart, however, from the world of politics, and turning our backs for a moment upon the crowded scenes of world- conflict wherein individuals appear to play so astoundingly and increasingly great a part, let us look at everyday life. The heroes of all the stories that we read in the Press are made to appear before us. We can scrutinize the face of this criminal and that man of quixotic self-forgetfulness. An extraordinary interest attaches just now to the very rich, especially if they have made their money or, as, with strange unconscious irony, we say in conversation, made themselves. Everybody wants to know what they look like who have accomplished this great feat. Does a tendency to luck show in the face ? Luck clings undoubtedly to certain people. It is said that one of the early Rothschilds left one piece of advice to his sons : " Have no dealings with an unlucky man." Is luck a combination of qualities, or something as unaccountable as magnetism ? No one knows. But it is often important, and always interesting, to know who will be lucky, and parents search their children's faces for a sign. There is certainly a look of sadness in some men's faces which portends, as often as it commemorates, sufferings. The portraits of all the successful sportsmen claim a great deal of attention. What sort of looks go with staying- power, and what with audacity ? In what particulars does the distinguished fighter for fun or for money differ from the man who gains distinction fighting for his country ? The populace seems to accord them both equal honours. One would have hoped that familiarity with their various types of physiognomy might help to convince them that they have formed an erroneous judgment. Any one who has so hoped is disappointed. But it may be said : " Surely this theory of the education of the judgment by means of portraits is very far-fetched. A man of the world must move in the world. Usage du monde is not gained by the consideration of its counter. feit presentment." We think this obvious criticism conveys a less. complete answer to our arguments than would appear at first sight. The man who has read about foreign countries by his suburban fire is not in ignorance of them. A foreign town with whose streets he is familiar " on the pictures " will not strike him as bewilderingly strange if he ever goes there. All children and all very simple people desire that their books should be illustrated. What would we not all give to see photographs, even little snapshots, of the great men of the past. An historian would give his ears to see, as his friends saw him, thesman the impression of whose personality he has strained every nerve to sharpen and to reproduce. Imagine what would be our sensations if we could see a photograph of Shakespeare and Ben Jonson as they sat talking at table. Men would come across the world to look at it. Every critic of literature who had not seen it would admit his judgment to be hampered by ignorance.
One of the greatest trials which must be borne by the heroic blind is the inability not only to rejoice in the sight of those they love, but also to judge those they meet with by their looks. How often it happens that a stranger takes suddenly some great place in our lives. It is not a question of falling in love or making a friend, but of accepting an intimate. For instance, let us imagine a blind man whose daughter is engaged to be married. Again and again she would describe her lover to her father, would repeat his conversation or narrate his deeds. "If only I could see his face," would be her father's instinctive thought, " I could judge whether or no he will make her happy." The significance of the human countenance is tremendous. Before his death Lavater suffered from—or rejoiced in—a strange delusion that he would one day find St: Luke's portrait of our Lord, and that that portrait would convert the world.
Of course there are exceptional instances in which looks offer no key to character. It is thinkable that if by miracle the blind father we imagine could see for five minutes his prospective son-in-law he would know less about him than if be had contented himself with reports. It is even possible that if we could see a photograph of some one great historical personage we should find our knowledge of him or her confused rather than clarified. The charm of Mary Queen of Scots is proved. It is more truly a part of her personality than her vanity or her guilt. But if we saw her photograph, if a true picture of her among her ladies upon the night of Rizzio's murder could be thrown upon the screen, it is conceivable that we might no longer be able to believe in it. We might see in her face something sordid which her magnetism alone could hide. But these exceptional instances count for nothing. Speaking generally, we cannot entirely know a person whose appearance is a mystery to us, and we are not often entirely ignorant of some one with whose portraits, taken in many attitudes, in many circumstances, and in many moods, we are familiar. It is the fashion to vilify the Press; but if the ordinary man owed to the daily papers nothing but a mental introduction to a thousand personalities he would yet owe them an incalculable debt. " Face-values are proverbially mislead- ing," do we hear the reader say ? Well, the reader has a right to the last. word, especially if it comes in the form of a jest-
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