I sat behind my desk in a state of torpor, my mind almost as blank as the paper before me, on which I rarely traced a line.

It was always a relief to hear the bell ring, as it afforded me an opportunity of doing something which I was yet capable of doing, to rise and open the door and stare in the countenances of the visitors.

All of a sudden I fell to studying countenances, and soon flattered myself that I had made considerable progress in the science.
'There is no faith in countenances,' said some Roman of old; 'trust anything but a person's countenance.' 'Not trust a man's countenance ?' say some moderns, 'why, it is the only thing in many people that we can trust; on which account they keep it most assiduously out of the way.
Trust not a man's words if you please, or you may come to very erroneous conclusions; but at all times place implicit confidence in a man's countenance, in which there is no deceit; and of necessity there can be none.

If people would but look each other more in the face, we should have less cause to complain of the deception of the world; nothing so easy as physiognomy nor so useful.' Somewhat in this latter strain I thought at the time of which I am speaking.

I am now older, and, let us hope, less presumptuous.