ess; in that eye, penetration,
strength, and expression?"

He felt his forehead, and then continued:

"Permit me, with my measure, to ascertain the height of your brow? Yes;
I see unshaken courage in that forehead, as clearly as I do steadfast
friendship, fidelity, love of God and man, in those lips. What a
nobleness in the whole! Thy face is the physiognomy of an extraordinary
man, who thinks deeply, who holds fast to whatever he undertakes, works,
flies, triumphs, finds few men in whom he will confide, but many who will
rely on him.

"Ah! if a common mortal had such a brow, such a mouth, such a nose, or
even such hair, what would become of physiognomy?

"Perhaps there is not a man existing whom thy countenance would not by
turns attract and repel. What infantine simplicity! What heroic
grandeur! Few mortals can be so well known and so little known as
yourself.

"Eagle, lion, destroyer, reformer of mankind, move on, move on, and
reclaim men from their blindness; share with them the intellectual
strength which nature has given thee; and announce thyself to all as I
have just announced thee to thyself."

Faustus craunched his teeth while the monk was saying all these noble
things about the countenance of the Devil, who turning coolly to the
physiognomist, said,

"And what is thy opinion of that gentleman? Tell me what he is."

_Monk_. Great, bold, mighty, powerful, soft, and mild; but thou, his
companion, art greater, bolder, mightier, more powerful, more soft, more
mild.

Then looking at Faustus, he exclaimed:

"Mighty pupil of a mightier man, if thy spirit and thy heart could
entirely catch his greatness, thou wouldst still be merely reflecting the
rays of his glory. But seat thyself, and let me take thy shadow."

Faustus, more and more enraged to see how infinitely the monk rated him
below the Devil, now burst forth:

"Shadows! yes, indeed, shadows only hast thou seen. How darest thou thus
judge and measure the human race? Hast thou seen men? Where, and how?
Thou hast merely seen their shadows, which thou adornest with the tinsel
of thy crazed imagination, and givest them out as the true forms. Tell
me what kind of human beings thou hast seen. Were they not sectaries,
fanatics, visionaries, the very offscourings of human nature? Were they
not vain devotees, young wives who have cold husbands, and widows who
have sleepless nights? Were they not authors eager to have every mark
and pimple