wick, on the state of parties, and the characters the annual prinied account of their proceedings. of their leaders in this country, and on the policy | Having been often and very urgently requested and effect of its continental connections. But as by many of his literary friends, to publish a new these have not been found, there is reason to ap- | edition of the Criterion, which had been many prehend that they may have been destroyed, in years out of print, he undertook so lately as last consideration of some of the persons being still autumn (1806) to revise that book He had alive, whose characters, conduct, and principles many years ago collected materials for a new and were the topics of that correspondence. In 1764, enlarged edition of that work, but unfortunately Lord Bath died, and left him his library; but they had been either mislaid or lost, or more pro. General Pulteney wishing that it should not be bably destroyed through mistake with soine other removed from Bath-House, he relinquished his manuscripts, This circumstance, and his very claim, and accepted a thousand pounds in lieu of advanced age, sufficiently account for his not it. General Pulteney left it to him again at his having attenmpted to alter materially, or to add to (leath, and he again gave it up to the late Sir this original work. W. Pultency for the same sum. It has been In this statement, all the avowed publications erroneously stated, that his own valuable library of the Bishop are enumerated; but he has been had been derived from this source, whereas it concerned in many others, in which he was never was entirely collected by himself

. In 1764, he supposed to have had any part, and in some of exchanged his livings in Shropshire for that of no common celebrity, whose nominal and reputed St. Austin's and St. Faith's, in Wailing-street, | authors he permitted to retain, and enjoy excluLondon. In April 1765, he narried Elizabeth, sively, all that credit of which he could have justig daughter of Henry Ronke, Esq. During this laid claim to a considerable share. During a and the preceding year, as also in 1763, he wrote great part of his life, he was in correspondence several political papers, which were printed in with some of the most eminent literary and the Public Advertiser; and all the let:ers which political characters of the age. Such were the appeared in that paper, in 1770 and 1771, under habits of incessant application in which he perthe signatures of Tacitus and Manlius, were severed, almost to the last hour of his long p:owritten by him. In 1773, he assisted Sir John tracted life, that few men could have read more, Dalrymple in arranging his MSS. In 1776, he' if indeed any one so much; for he never deemed was removed from the Chapter of Windsor lu any space of time too short to be employed in that of St. Paul's. Daring this and the sub- reading, nor was he ever seen by any of his family, sequent year, he was employed in preparing except when strangers were present, without har. Captain Cook's Journal for publication, which ing a book or a pen in his hand. he undertook at the urgent request of Lord The accounts which were inserted in many of Sandwich, then First Lord of the Admiralty. In the newspapers, of the illness which terminated 1777, he assisted Lord Ilardwicke in arranging in his death, were as incorrect as most of tho.e his miscellaneous papers, which came out the which have been given of his life and writings. following year. In 1778, he was elected a mem Instead of falling a victim to the gout, he can ber of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies. In || scarcely be said to have latterly any speciñc com. 178 i, he was again applied to by Lord Sand- | plaint. He retained his faculties to the last, and wich, to reduce into a shape fit for publication, | till within two days of his death amused hi:nself, the Journal of Captain Cook's third and last for some hours each day, by reading. After a Voyage; the Introduction and the Notes were life thus devoted to the cause of literature and supplied by hiin. In this year, he was elected religion, and not spent in solitary seclusion from President of Sion College for the year, and the world, but in the midst of its most active and preached the Latin sermon before that body. busy scenes, he drew his last breath on Monday In 1986, he was elected one of the Vice-Presi- the 18th of May, without a struggle and without dents of the Antiquarian Society; and in 1787, a pang, in the arins of his son, who, in order to one of the Trustees of the British Museum. Incorrect the mis-statements, and supply the defSeptember of this year, he was appointed Bishop ciencies of those accounts of him which have of Carlisle; and in 1788, succeeded to the Deanry appeared in many public prints, has hastily ex. of Windsor, for which he vacated his Residen tracted the above particulars from authentic tiaryship of St. Paul's. In 1789, he preached be documents now in his possession. He was buried fore the House of Lords, and of course published in a vault in St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle. the sermon, on the anniversary of King Charles's His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, with a martyrdom. In June 1791, he was translated condescension not less honourable to his own to the See of Salisbury. In 1793, he preached feelings then to the memory of the Bishop, asthe anniversary sermon before the Society for the tended at his funeral, Propagation of the Gospel, which is prefixed to


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I am


their ignorance of phisiognomy; the knowledge

of which would render it impossible for vice to Is the philosopher, to whom you showed wear the mask of virtue, and insincerity the ga.b my last letters, really astonished at my assertions, of good faith. does he long for convincing proofs? I will give I have perceived more than once that these him a striking one. Let me have his picture; || wily hypocrites dread my presence; and when it will not be the first time I shall have delivered in company with me, their embarrassment is too a just opinion upon a person I have not seen. I

great to be overcome, and too plain not to be remust repose a large share of confidence in you, marked. This continual fear of being deterted and am persuaded you will send me an exact de envenoins their minds; and I have often incurred scription, for my honour is interested in the re the effects of their hatred without, however, result. You must not think, however, that I am pining at the knowledge I had acquired. Is it in the habit of going always the same, because not very criminal to detest and torment a fellowthe most expressive feature of a man often evades creature, because we cannot pass, in his eyes, for our observation, and the eyes of othres are not what we are not? But I must interrupt this so skilled in tracing it out as those of a phy- epistle till I have read a letter which is just come; siognomist himself. This time I will do my best, it will, probably, contain some questions relative and do not fear to be for once mistaken.

to physiognomy; and if they deserve an answer, like one who delights in treating his friends, and I will let you know it. I was right; I am asked whose hospitable nature is well known, he dreads whether it be proper to improve the science I not their arrival when least expected, because | cultivate; and three reasons are adduced to prove the joyful surprise he experiences pleads his ex I ought to give up this useful study, which I am cuse for his deficiency in providing them with a desired to answer as well as I can. The first is, sumptuous fare. Do not inform your acquaint “there are more wicked than just men, and how ance of your intention; he might, perhaps, can a knowledge which unfolds all the depravity oppose it, or assuine a different cast of counte of human nature to our eyes, be advantageous to nance; and in this case, the exertions of your us ? Sorrow is the only harvest we may expect natural sagacity might prove fruitless, as philoso to reap from it; for we cannot help being sadphy, though it profess aloud to be a foe to false dened by the reflection, that the immense family hood, serves but too often, in this age, as a cloak to which we belong is composed of such despica. to shelter deceit and treachery. I will candidly ble beings. The sole effect of this science will, own, that I admire those who unfold their true therefore, be that of increasing the number of temper to the sight of others; and am the more misanihropes, who fear and avoid all intercourse inelined to forgive their defects, which I would with their fellow.creatures, because they dread to find more difficulty to overlook, were they to al fall victims to their unruly passions." tempt to conceal them carefully from me.


The second proceeds from the first :-“ It is being whose violent passions 1 may excuse, very dangerous, I am told, to know men so well : should he acknowledge their impetuosity, be nothing will deter them so much from cultivating comes hateful, should he withhold that confes. our acquaintance; they are not fond of being sion from those whom he calls his sincere friends. || studied, and feel embarrassed when they ineet Every man has been endowed with passions, and with people whom they deem capable of peneang effort made to hide, not to conquer them, trating through the veil of deceit with which must lead others to think that they are either they envelope their true nature.

But when, very vicious or dangerous, since so much trouble | especially, they are conscious that such a knowis incurred to spread a belief of their non-exist- || ledge can lead us only to despise them, it is more ence. Such a temper inust create mistrust, and than embarrassment, it is hatred that agitates compel people to be incessantly on their guard; their breast." this is the reason why I delight in finding them

The third and last is : That such informaout, and when I have lifted the veil that covered tion must prove useless to those who have lavished them, to honour them with my contempt. Yet their time away upon acquiring it; and who, bethis is not sufficient to overbalance the grief 1| ing equally the sport of events as the rest of ieel, when I witness how they succeed in deceiv. | mankind, can neither foresee nor turn them lo ing less vigilant persons, who thus pay dear for their own advantage. In a word, the study of No. XVIII, Vol. II.


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physiognomy is neither honourable to the human researches alone, can enable us to dive into the race, whom it degrades in our sight, favourable truth of things. How many people are censured to individuals, whose share of grief it increases, | by the world, without having committed any nor useful to those who possess it, and derive no particular offence? I feel, hy experience, that benefit from it."

when we obey the single impulse of our under. The person who wrote this letter is so fully standing, we are more inclined to esteem ou persuaded that his reasons cannot be answered, fellow-creatures, and have found in some, virtues that he has no doubt of my adopting his way of which had never been revealed by the officious per. thinking, and giving up this dangerous, and at sons who had proclaimed their defects aloud. A best, useless study! His triumphant tone might | wise physiognomist ought to remain silent, when awe another being, less accustomed to such he perceives no symptoms of good; and I have boasting adversaries, but it has no effect upon me; always found, in those who profess this science, and I will let you have my reply, as you may a greater wish to praise what deserves their approhave occasion for it when the same sophistical bation, than to blame what required censure. — arguments are brought forward by your friends, What advantage should we reap from declaring,

Folly is more natural to men ihan wickedness; ourselves the severe judges of other men's and when we scrutinize into their temper, their actions ? But I will ask, also, the gentleman good qualities burst into notice as well as the who thinks that the study of physiognomy ought bad, and they gain as much as they lose in our to be given up, because it may create misanestimation. It has been often remarked, that the thropy, whether he has ever forsaken his friends, best artists are always most indulgent in judging because they were not perfect ; and whether he the productions of those who follow the same has not ratlier felt sorrow at the sight of their profession; it is the same with physiognomists, || excesses, without withdrawing his love front the more they are acquainted with men, the them? more they are inclined to forgive their errors. The third objection is so purely sophisticat True and moral philosophy, upon whose base that I am almost ashamed to answer iti Physitheir science-rests, will teach them, that graces | ognomists acknowledge that divination lies be may compensate for defects, virtues for vices ; | yond their reach, they therefore cannot pretend. and that, far from avoiding all communication

to foresee or prevent events and circumstances. with their fellow.creatures, they ought to derive It is sufficient for them to be well acquainted as much advantage from their good qualities as with those whom the connexions of society have it will be in their power to do, and provide against || placed around them, in order to watch their pas the bad, taking such measures as will screen them | sions, and guard against their effects. Truth from their resentment, or the violence of their heightens the taste of the enjoyments this sci« passions. To study mankind deeply, it is said, ence produces; for it may be compared to geoo. is wishing to become a misanthrope; but does in metry, in which the pleasure of coming to sures reality any dangerous evil lurk in a moderate results does not always permit us to employ thems share of misanthropy, would it not, on the con in any ways that might prove useful I expect trary, prove useful to many persons. As to the the picture I have asked you with impatience, sentiments of contempt for men, which this sci and you shall not hear from me till. I have res ence is reported to inspire, it is the same with ceived it. physiognomy, which unfolds their secret nature, as with history, which relates their actions. The annals of the world present us with good and bad,

LETTER IV. but no one has yet declared that we should not You have played me a sad trick, by sending peruse them, since they teem with instruction. me two portraits instead of one; and refusing to Are those of physiognomy more pernicious, be tell me which of the two was your philosopher's, cause they spread before us a true image of the You have turned against me the weapons with human mind, free and unshackled by the events which I had supplied you to contend with him; and circumstances in which we are often placed. but it causes me no trouble, and I am glad you

As to the second objection, as it proceeds from have afforded me such a favourable opportunity the first, the same answer will suffice; but upon of convincing you. Let us examine the first;: the whole, I believe that individuals gain more his complexion is sallow, his eyes are small, than they lose, by being thoroughly known. It hollow, weak, and almost entirely shut when he seldom, if ever, happens that they are entirely | laughs; his way of laughing is satirical and un deprived of virtues or talents; yet such is the pleasant, for he opens his muuth too wide; and bent of our nature, that we bestow, in general, when it is closed it gives a surly cast to his cours a larger share of attention upon their defects tenance; his nose has no elevation in the mids. than their excellencies; and reflection, and deep | dle, a settled glocm overspreads his features and

his forehead has nothing extraordinary. I had | description, declares him to be frank and sincere, no occasion to know that his shape is bad, his and I would rely upon that last quality. The stomach pointed, that he is knock-kneed, and clearness of his eyes is a sure sign that his mind his legs are thin and withered. You have written teems with just notions on the sciences it has exmore than was necessary to inake me almost re plored, though some of its discriminating powers pent having undertaken to describe his temper ; may have been sunk in the corpulence of his and did I not trust in your discretion, I would || person ; while he has gained, in calmness and keep the result of my observations concealed ; | equanimity of temper, what he has lost in fire but as I must not break my promise, I am sorry and vivacity. The shape of his lips may be to inform you that envy rules the breast of your praised by certain people; and the only remark friend. Every good action he beholds or hears I will make upon it is, that I believe they exof awakens the pangs of jealousy in his heart; | press mildness and fai hfulness in friendship.mm. and, because he is incapable of performing any From your account, I think he ought not to have himself, he wishes that nobody should dare to be followed a learned profession; but he is not the generous and beneficent; and as it is out of his first who has mistaken his element, and he may power to hinder others from acting rightly, he acquit himself of whatever he undertakes with attempts incessantly to diminish their share of the approbation of those who have to deal with merit; and is only satisfied, when his sarcastic him: this is, perhaps, one of the greatest praises arguments have persuaded his hearers, that it that can be bestowed. If I do not extend my would be better to imitate his inaction than follow observations further, it is because you did not the example of more active and virtuous beings. I put it into my power, for your eyes are as yet too I believe him to be interested, and a flatterer, | little exercised to grasp at once the small shades fond of praising virtues which never dwelt in his of difference which express some good or bad soul. His unind does not soar above mediocrity; | quality. You will find it strange that rices and he extols the dead as much as he degrades the virtues, habits and inclinations, tastes and talents, living; interested mctives must soften his man. that seem to Aow from a superior source, the pers, though mildness be entirely foreign to his mind, from which we cannot separate them, nature; he is rather a coward, and would not should become sensible to our sight, in material like me, were we ever to become acquainted to features, such as the hues and the shape of the gether. Of all this, I beg you will believe only clay with which our mortal frame is built. You what experience shall have showed you was will ask me, perhaps, what colour ambition true; for I may have committed a mistake, and assumes, and whether anger wear any resemnot comprehending well some parts of the de blance to a square or a circle. I shall not check scription you sent me, have formed a wrong

your harmless jokes, for to amuse you I have idea upon which I ground my reasonings. But, already done much; and if I do not succeed in on the other side, if he has dedicated his time i rendering the truth of my system plain to your to the cultivation of the sciences, he may have eyes, I shall, at least, make you own that it is made some progress in them, and knows how to likely to be true. give proofs of it now and then. Yet he has Every voice continues to thunder aloud, slum them less than the art of turning them against the inutility of my science; and this to his advantage; his way of laughing tells me question is incessantly put to me,

“ what benefit that his understanding is neither clear nor just have you derived from it?” This is a weak and It appears to me that the seat of his physiog- ungenerous attempt at insulting me on account gomy is placed on the upper lip, the length of of my present situation; and I answer, that which, united with the under one, makes his when it is made use of only as an amusement, mouth assume the appearance of that of a fish. it will not be a source of riches. I have I should be very sorry were this man your phi- found many opportunities when, had I followed losopher; and fear much, lest he should have a different line of conduct, it would have crown. aduled your name to the list of those he has de ed my exertions with wealth. But the fairest ceived. Beware not to consult his opinion in way is to class physiognomy with virtues and what relates to others; he would instil false talents, and we shall not wonder if it do not raise ideas into your soul, for it is his advantage to find men to affiuence; for whatever has received them wicked, and he is incapable to think them their stamp, must rest contenied with mediocrity

during life. The only advantage I have derived The next portrait is more promising, and I from this study, and I place it far above the ac. wish the person it represents may rank higher inquirements of fortune, is that of having chosen your estimation and friendship than his predeces. || sincere friends, who can depend upon me, as I sor. His smiling and open countenance indicates | do upon them. You know that M*** and a chcerful temper; his moutb, according to your M**** have vainly attempted, by every means


in their power, 'o ob ain my friendship, phys.og. considering whether it be overbalanced by any nomy alone saved me from the poison of their good, whilst a physiognomist pierces through the intimacy. We should beware of forming too burk that envelopes the mind, and discerns what close an acquaintance, as we are no more at other eyes cannot perceive. How many mea liberty to break it when we find it dangerous; would be beloved were they well known, and and we cannot help being deceived, when the how inuch' shorter and easier it is, instead of habit of living with a person has blinded us to following them through the intricate maze of his defects You may therefore ascertain the action, to explore the inysterious meaning which opinion l entertain of you, by the pledges of il nature has imprinted on their features. But it is attachinent I have given you, and I shall not now time to explain the principles of this science, hesita'e to say, that few people can love you as which form its true and solid basis, and you will much as I, becanse few can penetrate so deeply | find that we shall not have the Gordian knot to into the secrets of your heart. Physiognomy in unfold. In my next letter, I will begin giving many cases comes to the support of humanity, and you this necessary information. vindica'es its rights; the greatest part of men,

E. R. dwell upon the evil they descry in others without

[To be continuerl.)



In the preceding numbers of our miscellany on the floor; the room was full of strange and we have already given some remarkable instances ferocious looking men; the Baroness's chambers of presence of mind; but all of them are far maid was kneeling before one of them, and insurpassed by that of a female, the subject of the stead of the mercy she implored, received the present history, whose soul was proof against || fatal stroke. No sooner did the door open than every impression of terror when inevitable death two of the barbarians wiih drawn swords rushed seemed impending over her head.

towards it. What man, not to say what woman, In a charming villa, situated in a truly romantic would not have been struck with the utmost country, but at a considerable distance from the terror, and have given up life and every thing for high road, Baron R. was accustomed to spend | lost? A loud shriek of despair, a fight of a fer the summer. His mansion, built on an eminence, paces, a fruitless intreaty for mercy, would prowas perfectly adapted to his fortune. It was bably have been the last resource of many thoua spacious building, elegant both within and sands. The Baroness, however, conducted her. without, and displayed a good style of architec self in a different manner. ture. It was about two hundred paces from the “ And are you come at last ?"-exclaimed she village.

with a tone of heart-felt joy, and advancing Business obliged the Baron to take a journey towards her iwo assailants with a haste which of a few days. His wife, a young and beautiful highly astonished them both, and fo.tunately woman, scarcely twenty years of age, remained i stopped their uplifted weapons. Are you come at home. He took with him two of his best at last ?" repeated she, “ Such visitors as you I servants, and two others were left with the have long wished to see.” Baroness. No violation of the public security “ Wished !” muttered one of the assassins. had ever been heard of in that part of the country; “ What do you mean by that? But stay, I and as he Baroness did not belong to the timid will portion of her sex, the ideas of danger were far He had already raised his cutlass, but his comfrom entering her mind

rade averted the stroke. “ Stop a moment, The second evening after the Baron's departure, brother," said he; “ let us first hear what she she d just stepping into bed, when she heard would have." an alarming noise in an apartment near her “ Nothing but what is also your pleasure, chamber. She called, but received no answer. brave comrades. You have made charming work The noise, screaining, and confusion grew louder | here I see. You are men after my own heart, every minute. She was at a loss to conceive what and neither you nor I shall have reason to repent could be themaiter, and hastily putting on alight | it, if you will but listen for two minutes to what garment, went to the door to discover the cause. I have to say." What a horrid spectacle presented itself! Two “ Speak! speak!” cried the whole company, of her servants half paked, were extended lifeless “ But be brief," added one of the hercest of

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