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$Unique_ID{bob00638}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Anthology Of Shorter Works
Part I}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Dickens, Charles}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{taken
}
$Date{}
$Log{}
Title: Anthology Of Shorter Works
Book: Hunted Down
Author: Dickens, Charles
Part I
Most of us see some romances in life. In my capacity as Chief Manager
of a Life Assurance Office, I think I have within the last thirty years seen
more romances than the generality of men, however unpromising the opportunity
may, at first sight, seem.
As I have retired, and live at my ease, I possess the means that I used
to want, of considering what I have seen, at leisure. My experiences have
a more remarkable aspect, so reviewed, than they had when they were in
progress. I have come home from the Play now, and can recall the scenes of
the Drama upon which the curtain has fallen, free from the glare,
bewilderment, and bustle of the Theatre.
Let me recall one of these Romances of the real world.
There is nothing truer than physiognomy, taken in connection with
manner. The art of reading that book of which Eternal Wisdom obliges every
human creature to present his or her own page with the individual character
written on it, is a difficult one, perhaps, and is little studied. It may
require some natural aptitude, and it must require (for everything does) some
patience and some pains. That these are not usually given to it, - that
numbers of people accept a few stock commonplace expressions of face as the
whole list of characteristics, and neither seek nor know the refinements that
are truest, - that You, for instance, give a great deal of time and attention
to the reading of music, Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Hebrew if you please,
and do not qualify yourself to read the face of the master or mistress
looking over your shoulder teaching it to you, - I assume to be five hundred
times more probable than improbable. Perhaps a little self-sufficiency may
be at the bottom of this; facial expression requires no study from you, you
think; it comes by nature to you to know enough about it, and you are not to
be taken in.
I confess, for my part, that I have been taken in, over and over again.
I have been taken in by acquaintances, and I have been taken in (of course)
by friends; far oftener by friends than by any other class of persons. How
came I to be so deceived? Had I quite misread their faces?
No. Believe me, my first impression of those people, founded on face
and manner alone, was invariably true. My mistake was in suffering them to
come nearer to me and explain themselves away.