Romantic Love and Personal Beauty / Their development, causal relations, historic and national peculiarities

by Henry T. Finck

In the eyebrows the Curve of Beauty is again the condition of perfection. It must be a gentle curve, however, or else it imparts to the countenance a Mephistophelian expression of irony. Eyebrows were formerly held to be peculiar to man, but Darwin states that “in the Chimpanzee, and in certain species of Macacus, there are scattered hairs of considerable length rising from the naked skin above the eyes, and corresponding to our eyebrows; similar long hairs project from the hairy covering of the superciliary ridges in some baboons.”

The existence of the eyebrows may be accounted for on utilitarian grounds. Natural Selection favoured their development because they are, like the lashes, of use in preventing perspiration and dust from getting into the eyes. Their delicately curved form, however, they probably owe to Sexual Selection. Cupid objects to eyebrows which are too much or not sufficiently arched, and he objects to those which are too bushy or which meet in the middle. The ancient Greeks already disliked eyebrows meeting in the middle, whereas in Rome Fashion not only approved of them, but even resorted to artificial means for producing them. The Arabians go a step farther in the use of paint. They endeavour to produce the impression as if their eyebrows grew down to the middle of the nose and met there. The Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, and Indians also used paint to make their eyebrows seem wider, but they did not unite them. On the outside border the eyebrows should extend slightly beyond the corner of the eye.

EXPRESSION

In the chapter on the nose reference was made to our disposition to seize upon any sensation experienced inside the mouth and label it as a “taste,” whereas psychologic analysis shows that in most cases the sense of smell (excited during exhalation) has more to do with our enjoyment of food than taste; and that the nerves of temperature and touch likewise come into play in the case of peppermint, pungent condiments, alcohol, etc. We are also in the habit of including in the term “feeling” or “touch” the entirely distinct sensations of temperature, tickling, and some other sensations, to the separate study of which physiologists are only now beginning to devote special attention.

Similarly with the eyes. Being the most fascinating part of the face, on which we habitually fix our attention while talking, they are credited with various expressions that are really referable to other features, which we rapidly scan and then transfer their language to the eyes. Nor is this all. Most persons habitually attribute to the varying lustre of the eyeball diverse “soulful” expressions which, as physiologic analysis shows, are due to the movements of the eyeball, the eyebrows, and lashes. The poets, who have said so many beautiful things about the eyes, are rarely sufficiently definite to lay themselves open to the charge of inaccuracy. But there can be little doubt that the popular opinion concerning the all-importance of the eyeball is embodied in such expressions as these: “Love, anger, pride, and avarice all visibly move in those little orbs” (Addison). “Her eye in silence has a speech which eye best understands” (Southwell). “An eye like Mars to threaten or command.” “The heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, ’gainst which the world cannot hold argument.” “Behold the window of my heart, mine eye.” “Sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages.” “For shame, lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.” “If mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.” “There’s an eye wounds like a leaden sword.” The last three of these Shaksperian lines were evidently echoing in Emerson’s mind when he wrote that “Some eyes threaten like a loaded and levelled pistol, and others are as insulting as hissing or kicking; some have no more expression than blueberries, while others as deep as a well which you can fall into.” “Glances are the first billets-doux of love,” says Ninon de L’Enclos.

In order to make perfectly clear the mechanism by which the eye becomes an organ of speech, it is advisable to consider separately these six factors, which are included in it—(a) Lustre; (b) Colour of the Iris; (c) Movements of the Iris or Pupil; (d) Movements of the Eyeball; (e) Movements of the Eyelids; (f) Movements of the Eyebrows.

(a) Lustre.—"The physiological problem whether the surface of the eyeball, independent of the muscles that cover and surround it, can express emotion, a near study of the American girl seems to answer quite in the affirmative." Dr. G. M. Beard remarks, without, however, endeavouring to specify what emotions the surface of the eyeball expresses, or in what manner it does express them.

Dr. Magnus, on the other hand, who has made a more profound study of this question than any other writer, is emphatic in his conviction that “the eyeball takes no active part in the expression of emotions, which is entirely accomplished by the muscles and soft parts surrounding it.” His view is supported by the fact that although some of the ancient sculptors endeavoured by the use of jewels or by chiselling semi-lunar or other grooves into the eyeball to simulate its lustre by means of shadows, yet as a rule sculptors and painters strangely neglect the careful elaboration of the eyeball; and in the Greek works of the best period, including those of Phidias, the eyeball was left smooth and unadorned, the artists relying especially on the careful chiselling of the lids and brows for the attainment of the particular characteristic expression desired.

Nevertheless Dr. Magnus goes too far in denying that ocular lustre can be directly expressive of mental states without the assistance of the movements of the eyebrows and lids. His own observations show that he has overstated his thesis. We can indeed, he says, infer from the appearance of the eyeball, “whether the soul is agitated or calm, but we have to rely on the facial muscles to specify the emotion. This is the reason why we can never judge the sentiments of one who is masked; for the fire in his eye can only indicate to us his greater or less agitation, but not its special character. That we could only read in the features which the mask conceals. It is for this reason that the orthodox Mahometan makes his women cover up their face with a veil which leaves nothing exposed but the eyes, because these cannot, without the constant play of the facial muscles, indicate the emotional state. The lustre of the corneal mirror therefore indicates to us only the quantity, but never the quality of emotional excitement.”

Herein Dr. Magnus follows the assertion of Lebrun, a contemporary of Louis XIV., that “the eyeball indicates by its fire and its movements in general that the soul is passionately excited, but not in what manner.”