Admirable as the eye undoubtedly is through the possession of the power of vision, it is also capable of enchanting us by its own particular beauties. Not to speak of its internal mechanism, which we shall consider very fully by and by, let us for a moment examine its outward appearance. Have you never, dear reader, been enchanted with a pair of soft and gentle eyes, or with a couple of black orbs veiled with long dark lashes, or with those wondrous eyes that rival the heavens in colour and depth, shedding on you rays of light whose mute eloquence was irresistible? If it be true that man’s face is the canvas upon which the affections and desires of his mind are depicted as soon as they are formed, the eyes are unquestionably the central point of the picture, and it is in them, as in a looking-glass, that every sentiment that passes across our brain is reflected. When the mind is undisturbed, says Buffon, all the parts of the face are in a state of repose; their proportion, unity, and general appearance indicate the pleasing harmony of our thoughts and the perfect calmness of our mind; but when we are agitated, the human face becomes a living picture, in which the passions that disturb us are depicted with equal force and delicacy, a picture in which every emotion is expressed by a stroke, every action by a letter, so to speak; in which the quickness of the impression outstrips the will, and reveals by the most sympathetic signs the image of our secret trouble. It is more especially in the eyes, adds this great naturalist, that these signs are manifested and recognised. The eye is connected with the mind more than any other organ: it seems almost to be in contact with it and to participate in all its movements; it expresses in obedience to it the strongest passions and the most tumultuous emotions, as well as the gentlest thoughts and most delicate sentiments, and reproduces them in all their force and purity just as they have sprung into existence; it transmits them with exquisite rapidity even to the minds of others, where they once more become impressed with all their original fire, movement, and reality. The eye both receives and reflects the light of thought and the warmth of sentiment, and is at once the sense of the mind and the tongue of the intellect. Persons who are short-sighted, or who squint, have much less of this external intelligence that dwells in the eye. It is only the stronger passions that can bring the other features of the face into play, that are depicted on their physiognomy; and the effects of fine thought and delicate feeling are rendered apparent with much greater difficulty.