When Socrates said to a youth who was introduced to him so that he might test his capabilities, “Speak so that I may see you” (taking it for granted that he did not simply mean “hearing” by “seeing"), he was right in so far as it is only in speaking that the features and especially the eyes of a man become animated, and his intellectual powers and capabilities imprint their stamp on his features: we are then in a position to estimate provisionally the degree and capacity of his intelligence; which was precisely Socrates’ aim in that case. But, on the other hand, it is to be observed, firstly, that this rule does not apply to the moral qualities of a man, which lie deeper; and secondly, that what is gained from an objective point of view by the clearer development of a man’s countenance while he is speaking, is again from a subjective point of view lost, because of the personal relation into which he immediately enters with us, occasioning a slight fascination, does not leave us unprejudiced observers, as has already been explained. Therefore, from this last standpoint it might be more correct to say: “Do not speak in order that I may see you.”
For to obtain a pure and fundamental grasp of a man’s physiognomy one must observe him when he is alone and left to himself. Any kind of society and conversation with another throw a reflection upon him which is not his own, mostly to his advantage; for he thereby is placed in a condition of action and reaction which exalts him. But, on the contrary, if he is alone and left to himself immersed in the depths of his own thoughts and sensations, it is only then that he is absolutely and wholly himself. And any one with a keen, penetrating eye for physiognomy can grasp the general character of his whole being at a glance. For on his face, regarded in and by itself, is indicated the ground tone of all his thoughts and efforts, the arret irrevocable of his future, and of which he is only conscious when alone.