الفصل الفصل 79 · The Prairie.

To scan the lines of his face, or feel the bumps on the head of this

Leviathan; this is a thing which no Physiognomist or Phrenologist has

as yet undertaken. Such an enterprise would seem almost as hopeful as

for Lavater to have scrutinized the wrinkles on the Rock of Gibraltar,

or for Gall to have mounted a ladder and manipulated the Dome of the

Pantheon. Still, in that famous work of his, Lavater not only treats of

the various faces of men, but also attentively studies the faces of

horses, birds, serpents, and fish; and dwells in detail upon the

modifications of expression discernible therein. Nor have Gall and his

disciple Spurzheim failed to throw out some hints touching the

phrenological characteristics of other beings than man. Therefore,

though I am but ill qualified for a pioneer, in the application of

these two semi-sciences to the whale, I will do my endeavor. I try all

things; I achieve what I can.

Physiognomically regarded, the Sperm Whale is an anomalous creature. He

has no proper nose. And since the nose is the central and most

conspicuous of the features; and since it perhaps most modifies and

finally controls their combined expression; hence it would seem that

its entire absence, as an external appendage, must very largely affect

the countenance of the whale. For as in landscape gardening, a spire,

cupola, monument, or tower of some sort, is deemed almost indispensable

to the completion of the scene; so no face can be physiognomically in

keeping without the elevated open-work belfry of the nose. Dash the

nose from Phidias’s marble Jove, and what a sorry remainder!

Nevertheless, Leviathan is of so mighty a magnitude, all his

proportions are so stately, that the same deficiency which in the

sculptured Jove were hideous, in him is no blemish at all. Nay, it is

an added grandeur. A nose to the whale would have been impertinent. As

on your physiognomical voyage you sail round his vast head in your

jolly-boat, your noble conceptions of him are never insulted by the

reflection that he has a nose to be pulled. A pestilent conceit, which

so often will insist upon obtruding even when beholding the mightiest

royal beadle on his throne.

In some particulars, perhaps the most imposing physiognomical view to

be had of the Sperm Whale, is that of the full front of his head. This

aspect is sublime.

In thought, a fine human brow is like the East when troubled with the

morning. In the repose of the pasture, the curled brow of the bull has

a touch of the grand in it. Pushing heavy cannon up mountain defiles,

the elephant’s brow is majestic. Human or animal, the mystical brow is

as that great golden seal affixed by the German emperors to their

decrees. It signifies—“God: done this day by my hand.” But in most

creatures, nay in man himself, very often the brow is but a mere strip

of alpine land lying along the snow line. Few are the foreheads which

like Shakespeare’s or Melancthon’s rise so high, and descend so low,

that the eyes themselves seem clear, eternal, tideless mountain lakes;

and all above them in the forehead’s wrinkles, you seem to track the

antlered thoughts descending there to drink, as the Highland hunters

track the snow prints of the deer. But in the great Sperm Whale, this

high and mighty god-like dignity inherent in the brow is so immensely

amplified, that gazing on it, in that full front view, you feel the

Deity and the dread powers more forcibly than in beholding any other

object in living nature. For you see no one point precisely; not one

distinct feature is revealed; no nose, eyes, ears, or mouth; no face;

he has none, proper; nothing but that one broad firmament of a

forehead, pleated with riddles; dumbly lowering with the doom of boats,

and ships, and men. Nor, in profile, does this wondrous brow diminish;

though that way viewed its grandeur does not domineer upon you so. In

profile, you plainly perceive that horizontal, semi-crescentic

depression in the forehead’s middle, which, in man, is Lavater’s mark

of genius.

But how? Genius in the Sperm Whale? Has the Sperm Whale ever written a

book, spoken a speech? No, his great genius is declared in his doing

nothing particular to prove it. It is moreover declared in his

pyramidical silence. And this reminds me that had the great Sperm Whale

been known to the young Orient World, he would have been deified by

their child-magian thoughts. They deified the crocodile of the Nile,

because the crocodile is tongueless; and the Sperm Whale has no tongue,

or at least it is so exceedingly small, as to be incapable of

protrusion. If hereafter any highly cultured, poetical nation shall

lure back to their birth-right, the merry May-day gods of old; and

livingly enthrone them again in the now egotistical sky; in the now

unhaunted hill; then be sure, exalted to Jove’s high seat, the great

Sperm Whale shall lord it.

Champollion deciphered the wrinkled granite hieroglyphics. But there is

no Champollion to decipher the Egypt of every man’s and every being’s

face. Physiognomy, like every other human science, is but a passing

fable. If then, Sir William Jones, who read in thirty languages, could

not read the simplest peasant’s face in its profounder and more subtle

meanings, how may unlettered Ishmael hope to read the awful Chaldee of

the Sperm Whale’s brow? I but put that brow before you. Read it if you

can.