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on the obvious decline of his vigour. One or two might be mistaken, but vox populi, vox Dei," said the dupe to himself; so he went home in sorrow, and despondency and drugs soon made him a more pitiable object than even his persecutors had represented him to be.

We shrewdly suspect that the domestic enemies of the peace of England, are adopting a mode of attack not very dissimilar to this. They embody their true wishes in the shape of false statements; and hope, by the unceasing administration of cautions, condolences, and recipes, to persuade us, both that our country is in a state of disease, and that they themselves, as they have been the first to discover, so they are also the most likely persons to cure her maladies. Does any one modestly express his hesitation about believing their alarming story? they assure him that they cannot be mistaken, that their diagnosis is their forte, and that it is no great wonder an unexperienced individual like himself should be deceived by symptoms of vigour which they know to be superficial and insignificant. Does some man of firmer nerves express not only his disbelief of their statement, but his suspicion of their candour, and his contempt of their skill? the cunning empirics turn upon the heel, and whisper to all they meet, that the bold sceptic is a hypocritical and designing knave, who speaks peace while there is no peace," and is willing to extenuate the virulence of the disease, in order that he may profit in private by the hypochondriacal facility of the deceived and flattered, although drooping and desperate patient.

peo

One of the most fatal symptoms of political decay which these quacks of party affect to descry and to deplore, is a want of confidence in the government among the majority of the ple. According to them, the inhabitants of England have lost that habitu al veneration for the legal authorities of their country, which formed so distinguishing a characteristic in the spirit of their fathers. The House of Commons, they assert, is no longer regarded by us as the fair and honour able representation of the wishes and the wisdom of the people; the Peers have descended from their old dignity of independence, and are alternately the masters and the slaves of a corrupt

ing and unprincipled ministry; but above all, the monarchical part of the establishment has "fallen from its high estate." Royalty has become a cipher and a pageant. It is courted without love, and obeyed without devotion.-The spring of constitutional attachment has been loosened; and the motions of the great machine are becoming every day more languid. Opinion, the main support of every government, and the only effectual one of a free government, has become changed. Our love of our institutions, and our pride in their excellence, were once great, and could not have been lessened, except these institutions had become corrupted, and that excellence obscured. The luminary of British freedom,-if we are to trust the report of these wise Chaldeans, "Looks through the horizontal misty air, Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon, In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change, Perplexes monarchs."

We think it would not be a very difficult matter to expose to Englishmen the futility of all these melancholy

statements and dismal expectations, as well as the malignant hearts or stupid heads, of those by whom they have been most boldly and most extensively promulgated. The tricks are old, and favourite ones with those whose inter

est it is to arrogate the praises of extraordinary sincerity and discernment.

Μαντι κακων, ὦ πωποτε μοι το κρήγυον είπας. Δια του τα κακ' ετι φίλα φρεσι μαντευεσθαι. Εσθλον δ' εδε τι πω είπας έπος εδ' ετέλεσσας.

false and treacherous oracles have But we are sorry to find that these found their way to the minds of foreigners, who have fewer means in their power, either of detecting their inherent absurdities, or of estimating the character of those who utter them. the soundness of our national feeling, Even abroad, however, it appears that principle, and attachment, is asserted and maintained by those who know us best, and are therefore most entitled The following exto speak of us. tract from a letter, written a few weeks ago, by the BARON VON LAUERWINKEL, will, we are sure, be acceptable to all our readers.

possibility of making himself useful to his country."

"In a country enlightened and refined to such a pitch as that which has been attained by England, the nature of the habitual feelings and dispositions of the people may be gathered, with almost unfailing certainty, from the pages of their popular poets. The present age of English poetry is a rich and brilliant one. It boasts, at this moment, of at least three great masters, each intensely original, and two of them eminently national. What is the voice of these interpreters of the thoughts of their countrymen? Does Scott minister to the sickly cravings of change, or the cowardly fears of decay? His works have nourished the high spirit of chivalry and honour, and stimulated and refreshed the martial ardour of British bosoms. He has been, like the nation to which he speaks, unmoved and unshaken amidst the vicissitudes of the times. His voice has been like the music of a rich rejoicing trumpet, cheering, and animating, and ennobling the souls of men-loud and invigorating in the hour of danger-soft, airy, and delightful in the season of repose. They who embalm, within their memories and their hearts, the echoes of such a voice as this, can they be a set of doleful, desponding, trembling, unsatisfied, unhappy changelings? The supposition is monstrous and absurd. Wordsworth is a poet of profounder sentiment; his delight has been in solitude, and he has therefore spoken less to the ordinary passions of active men. His familiarity has, indeed, been "Not with the mean and vulgar works of

declamations of demagogues, the hypocritical dogmas of self-constituted judges, have never deceived the stately intellect that holds its converse with

the

"Wisdom and spirit of the universe, The soul that is the eternity of thought." His patriotism has been like his poetry, affectionate, tender, and beautiful, but at the same time strong, rational, and sublime.

"The only great English poet of our time, who seems to despise the triumphs of his country, to despair of the security of her freedom, and to treat without respect the instruments to which she has delegated her authority, is Byron. It is pity that it should be so. Such a spirit deserved better things than it has found. But we must beware of drawing any general conclusions from the tone in which this gloomy poet speaks of political affairs. If he be a just interpreter of the political feelings of his countrymen, shall we not admit his testimony to be of equal weight in regard to their notions of religion, but, above all, of morality? Alas! Byron is no Englishman in any of these things. His creed seems to be that of a dark despairing fatalist, who despises exertion, and almost disbelieves futurity. His morality is apparently even more unworthy of his genius. Formed by nature to be the promoter of high thoughts and magnificent aspirations, he condescends to extenuate the foulness of heartless corruption, and to scoff with bitter derision at the proudest of all his country's distinctions— the purity of her domestic virtues. We must lament the perversion of this great mind; but we should beware of quoting that as an authority, which can only be viewed as a lamentable and unnatural exception.

"During the last visit which I paid to England, my thoughts were often directed to the subject on which you have addressed me; for so must the thoughts be of every one who reads the daily newspapers and tracts circulated among all classes of this people of politicians. The more I reflected, the more confidence did I gain. But I must confess that the circumstance which made most impression on my mind, was one, which has never, perhaps, presented itself to you, and whose weight I suspect, indeed, is not duly felt by those who are more nearly 2 P

interested in these matters than any foreigner can pretend to be.

"Many years have now elapsed since the aged King of England has been able to exercise, for himself, the high duties of his office. It has pleased God to visit this virtuous monarch with the severest infliction to which our nature can be subjected,-to darken in him the light of Reason, and render him a stranger in the midst of his friends. Heartless, indeed, must they be who can contemplate, without compassion, any victim of such an awful visitation. But the people of England have, in their conduct towards their unfortunate Prince, displayed, I think, something far more than mere humanity or pity could have prompted. A reverential silence has been observed by all, as if they were afraid that even the whisper of anxious affection might disturb the repose of his affliction. The whole nation (I know scarcely of one exception,) have behaved as a family of kind and dutiful children might have done, had their father been touched with such a calamity. Is there not something very affecting and very noble in this quiet and tender sympathy of a proud and generous people? And do not this quietness and this tenderness bear with them the most unequivocal testimony, not only of respect to the individual, but of attachment to the system? The King of England is venerated by his people as the descendant of their ancient monarchs, but above all, as the living witness of their freedom. On his person they willingly concentrate not a little of the love which they bear for that unequalled constitution, which reconciles, in their happy land, the interests of the subjects with those of their Prince, and renders affection for him the symbol of reverence for those laws which are as imperious over him as over the meanest of his people.

"The kings of England may well be grateful for the lot which has fallen to them. Preserved from the dangers which surround a despotic throne, far above the torments which attend the consciousness of instability, it is their privilege to enjoy the blessings, almost entirely unmingled with the disadvantages, of monarchy. The confidence which they repose in their people is not founded on any arrogant or delusive claims of personal talent or importance. They are the repositories

of national dignity, and they are aware that the nation will not be unjust or disrespectful to itself.

"Be assured that, in spite of all the ravings of violent, and the sarcasms of cold-blooded demagogues, the edifice of British Freedom and British Confidence is entire. Blest in the possession of those privileges which the wisdom of their fathers obtained for them, the only prayer of Englishmen worthy of the name is, that their children may be as happy as they are. Undazzled by the specious pretences of those who seek in innovation the chances of unmerited advancement, they place their hope and their attachment where they should be. Proud as they may well be of their own elected representatives in parliament, they do not allow themselves to despise or envy the duties or dignities of the hereditary magistracy in the Peerage; and sensible as they are that legislation should always proceed from the collective wisdom of many, they accord without hesitation a rightful homage to the legal executive prerogatives of One. It is still as true as it was in the days of Shakspeare, that "The king's name is a tower of strength."

THE CRANIOLOGIST'S REVIEW. No II.

Greek Heads.

THE peculiar form of the Greek nose, which comes down from the forehead in a line almost straight, has long been a subject of wonder and of speculation with physiognomical observers. Some have supposed it to be ideal, and a violation of nature; but those busts, which are believed to represent real individuals, frequently exhibit this configuration, although certainly in a smaller degree. Neither could it have been considered as beautiful by the Greeks, unless they had met with it under their eyes daily. For my part, I am inclined to consider it as the indication of a very vigorous and powerful temperament, which shot out in a superfluity of bone, and which was derived from a noble breed of semi-barbarians, who spent their lives in physical exertion, and were nurtured un

der one of the finest climates in the world. Nations may lose this boney prominence between the eyes, but I suspect they will never regain it after having lost it. A debilitated organization has not materials within itself to work its own restoration.

But let us inquire a little more narrowly. Let us compare old facts with theories recently started. The cerebral organs, situated immediately a bove the nose, were those with which the Greeks, (from what we know of their intellectual constitution) ought to have been most amply provided. All those organs which observe and judge of external objects, and which constitute what may be called perceptiveness, are placed in this region. The organ of form is behind the root of the nose, locality and observation above, and colour above the eyes. Hence the peculiar prominence of the lower part of the Greek forehead, which advances over the eyes, and has a tendency to carry out the nose along with it, and hence the exquisite talent of this nation for painting, statuary, architecture, and their sensibility to the loveliness of forms and proportions; so that the remnants even of their most homely furniture are still a mine of beauty for less gifted nations. Hence also their turn for individual facts which gratify the organ of observation, and their thirst for amusing sights and wonderful objects, as well as their passion for news and gossipings. No people was ever so much awake to external impressions, and hence in some measure the vivacity and flightiness of their dispositions. The mind which broods over considerations generated within itself, commonly pursues a uniform track, because the source of its impulses is always the same.

As an exemplar of an ideal Greek head, we may take the Meleager, which exhibits the configuration above mentioned in a remarkable degree. This love ly hunter is still in his youngest bloom, and we do not find the metaphysical and reflective part of the forehead so much developed. The Greeks were by no means profound thinkers as to cause and effect, and, with all their observation, they wanted philosophical observation, which calls in the metaphysical organs to ascertain the dependence of one phenomenon upon another, and which also solicits the aid of

the comparative organ, to arrange objects into classes, for the sake of generalizing upon them. Neither does Meleager's head exhibit much imagination, at least so far as the hair enables us to discern. That which characterises this head, and which helps to give it such a noble aspect, is the great developement of all the faculties on the top of the head. As an ideal head (for it is more than mortal), it exhibits the very pattern of energy, enthusiasm, and nobleness of mind. The back part of the head presents a very suitable and well proportioned developement.

It is remarkable, that the sculptor has given Apollo, the god of poetry, more perceptiveness than imagination, in which respect it corresponds with the Meleager; but the dressing of Apollo's hair is such as to disguise the rest of the head. The Venus de Medicis is also well provided with those organs which enable one to judge of beauty.

These remarks upon the perceptiveness of the Greeks lead me to advert to a circumstance highly characteristic of modern nations, who, in contemplating a work of art, pay much more attention to those traits which offer food for the imagination and the sensibilities, than to the palpable and real beauty of form and symmetry residing in the object before them. Instead of exercising their perceptions, they exercise their imaginations; and consider a statue or picture only as a sort of centre, round which to assemble poetical ideas. Hence the vague, frothy, and spurious enthusiasin with which so many people came charged from the Louvre. There can be little doubt that the pleasure which the Greeks took in works of art was a very matter-of-fact sort of pleasure. Their perceptions clung closely to the object, and their gratification was legitimately and directly derived from examining it. A great many modern amateurs, on the other hand, might as well shut their eyes at once, and fall a dreaming about it. They would have learnt as much about Apollo by sleeping a night at the foot of the pedestal, as by staring at it a whole day. When we consider these constitutional differences, we are naturally led to the conclusion, that modern painters should trust more to expression,-to well chosen subjects, and to the art of telling a story