I fed her with plain household phrase, and cool familiar salad, With moral mincemeat; till at length | I brought her within compass : E. 'Twas well at least that you forbore | to quote your extraction. E. Come then, stand forth, and tell us, What forfeit less than death is due | for such an innovation ? E. I did it upon principle, | from democratic motives. B. Take care, my friend-upon that ground your footing is but ticklish. E. I taught these youths to speechify. Æ. I say so too.-Moreover, I say that for the public good,-you ought to have been hang'd first. Æ. I grant it all-I make it all-my ground of accusation. Of battle-steeds and clattering shields, to scare them from their senses. I never found him at a loss, | in all the turns of party, To change his watch-word at a word, or at a moment's warning. With a nicer, neater plan; To direct their own affairs, And their house and household wares; Marking every thing amiss "Where is that? and-What is this? This is broken-That is gone;" 'Tis the system, and the tone. B. Yes, by Jove-and now we see Citizens of each degree, That the moment they come in, "If it's lost, it must be found. They sat them down to doze and snore. DR STERNSTARE'S LETTers. No II. Acknowledgment of Aberdeenshire Heads I HAVE received the three specimens of Aberdeenshire heads. That they must have been as remarkable for the savoir faire, as you say they were, is evident from their structure. One of them now stands on a shelf, with his cheek close to the "Ready Reckoner." You urge me strongly to pronounce, in the meantime, some rough estimate of the Scottish character; but cautious induction is ever the mark of the true philosopher, and in no science is it so necessary as in that which treats of human faculties and propensions. It is evident that the other head which you sent cannot be that of a Covenanter; at least of a truly zealous and obdurate one, willing to go all lengths. It is too little developed in the organs of self-love and of firmness. Devotion assumes different aspects, according to the different natural dispositions which it finds in the individuals whom it animates. In the Covenanters, religious feeling did not meet with many of the bland, benign, forgiving, and beautiful dispositions, which have their seat in the region above the forehead. It was rather connected with conscientiousness and severe justice, which, in the first place, gave no quarter to themselves, and which also engendered, by internal reaction, something like a feeling of unrelenting bitterness towards others. It was also strongly connected with will or determination, and, through it, with self-love. The Covenanters were also addicted to doctrinal discussions which exercised their dialectical understanding, and which often ended in exciting more activity of opinionative self-love, than of devotional sentiment, and in drawing down their thoughts into the sphere of the human passions. If their religiousness had been of a nobler quality than it was, we should have heard less of them in history. Upon the whole, I am inclined to suspect the Lowland Scots of a meagreness in the enthusiastic and disinterested elements of human nature. They have always been remarkable for a certain cold and unadmiring shrewdness, of which selflove is the true foundation. Sawney feels no love of great and beautiful objects for their own sakes, but stands aloof, and measures them with a sceptical eye. The Lowland dialect is replete with certain vernacular phrases, which betray his inclination to view all persons and things through a diminishing glass; and, for instances of this, I refer to the national novels of Waverley, Guy Mannering, &c. No passion for the arts touches his soul; no longings after the great ideal. The more homely and limited the objects which are presented to him, the more comfort he draws from them; and this is an infallible symptom of the predominance of self-love over the generous and aspiring affections. Even the metaphysics of this singular race, are the metaphysics of littleness, and have never led into the love of beauty, as with most other nations.— The Lowland peasant, however, with all his self-love, never betrays a Gasconading spirit. The caution and coldness of his character will not allow him to hazard any thing of that sort. Neither does his pride assume a sturdy, manly, and combative attitude, as it does with the English; but he wraps himself prudently in his blanket, and, eyeing the world askance over one shoulder, employs the keenness of a northern sagacity to supply himself mentally with reasons of disparagement against every sort of pretensions. Even religion is made by him subservient to the gratification of his human passions; for, as it inculcates the vanity of all worldly objects, and the insignificance of all human merits and distinctions, it so far utters to him a soothing voice; and he finds a consolation in thinking, that those who enjoy better fare than oatmeal, or wear any thing finer than a blue bonnet, are so much the more likely to go to a bad place in the end. None of the divine or good feelings have any exclusive tendency, except against qualities that are destructive to themselves. You will perhaps think some of the foregoing strictures too severe, and perhaps they are; but I have no patience with the love of littleness, which, whoever indulges in, as a great poet observes, Wars against his own soul." You ask if any thing remarkable has occurred in the course of my studies. Yesterday a gay young Frenchman called here for advice. He said he wished to adopt the English mode of behaviour in society, but found his personal feelings were too elastic and springy to allow him to keep that even tenor and squareness of manners, which had struck his fancy, and that the liveliness of his impressions, and his desire to shine, were continually throwing him off his centre. I told him that the difficulties he experienced arose partly from his temperament and mode of sensation, and partly from the proportions in which his cerebral organs were developed. He was laterally large in the upper back part of the head, but not much developed in the summit. The lower middle part of his forehead was prominent, and his nose pointed and cartilaginous. He asked if the Englishmen reflected much, and if that was the cause of their staid and grave demeanour. I answered, that not all of them were thoughtful, but that they were persons of stubborn and manly temperaments, and scorned to be moved, either to pleasure or pain, by every trivial circumstance. I recommended to him not to set his mind on imitating the English, but to give way to his internal propensions with as good a grace as he could; for his composition did not appear to contain the sources of many low or disagreeable manifestations. To the question, whether the Mealeger or Antinous is the finer head, I can only reply by making the follow ing observations: The first thing that strikes us in comparing these heads, is the different arrangement of the hair. In the Meleager, it assumes the simple and natural form which we would expect in an active and care less young hunter of the olden time, who allowed it to grow in its own way. The short locks of which it is composed spread, in successive circles, from the top of the head, overlapping each other, and presenting a close and almost matted appearance, which does not at all disguise the shape of the head. The hair of the Antinous is better adapted to please the eye by the luxuriant beauty of its clusters, and by the elegance of their arrangement; which, although unaffected, at the same time suggests the idea of art. VOL. IV. We are reminded that it belongs, not to the primitive age, "incomptis capillis," but to the days of Adrian, at whose court he probably spent an effeminate and degraded life. This exuberance of hair also disguises, in some measure, the shape of the head. Antinous was a native of Bythinia, in Asia Minor. Meleager, on the other hand, to use the words of Thomson, "Shews what ideas smiled of old in Greece." In the head of Meleager, which is represented as very young, we see the characteristics of impetuosity and magnanimity, and of a most uncontrollable will, united with the utmost sweetness and serenity in the expression of the countenance. The greatest developement is at the top of the head, in the organ of volition, and in all those organs which surround it, including pride and the love of applause behind, and enthusiasm before. All those organs in the lower part of the forehead, which connect us with the external world, are large and very prominent. Imagination and reflection, which turn the eyes inwards, and have so much tendency to generate internal sources of activity, seem proportionably less developed in the head of Meleager. A certain dignified childishness pervades the features. We see a being who scarcely remembers of the existence of his own faculties and feelings, so long as they are lying asleep within him, but the movements of whose feelings, when they are excited by external events, have an overbearing force, proportioned to the time during which they generally remain inactive. In his beautiful countenance we see an unemotional serenity, resulting from the quiescence of an organization strong and healthful, but unaccustomed to be excited by any other causes than the few and broad objects of heroical and semi-barbarous existence. The lips and cheeks seem scarcely habituated to bend or undulate under the influence of emotion. They have the same firmness and solidity as his shoulder, or any other part of his body. It may, perhaps, be said, that the sculptor has represented them so for the sake of form; but this is not the case, for, although the presence of violent emotion is hostile to perfect form, the susceptibility of emotion may be indicated in the turn of the features, withou I destroying the regularity of their contours. Ancient existence required no internal activity, except what was ultimately to issue forth and be applied to practical purposes. Their notions of the human destiny did not induce men to explore their own feelings in relation to morality. Hence there was no activity of sentiment except what resulted from events; and as for intellectual activity, in the earlier ages, it was never dreamt of. In the Antinous we perceive a being of inferior mould, and approaching much nearer the level of ordinary nature. The top of the head presents no longer the same lofty convexity as in the Meleager. The lower parts of the brain are more developed in proportion. The features have not the same childish aspect; but they are more effeminate and voluptuous in their expression, and we see throughout a being fitted to live contented in a much lower sphere of existence. The part of the forehead above the nose and eyes is well developed, and of an elegant and regular structure. It is the developement of this region which confers a talent for the fine arts (at least in so far as they depend on perception, and not on internal idealism); and it is extremely pro bable, that the favourite companion of Adrian would be a person well able to sympathise in his passion for sculpture, architecture, painting, and other similar studies. In the head of Antinous the organ of tune also spreads out the sides of the forehead considerably. Sculpture is the only mode of representation which can exhibit the structure of the human head in a satisfactory manner. Not a day passes but I am fretted by the imperfection of the ideas conveyed by paintings and engravings which present only one aspect, and can only express forms by the ambiguous means of light and shadow. Yet busts are sometimes to be met with, which have probably been copied merely from portraits after the death of the original; so that the form given to the head depended in a great measure upon the fancy of the artist, or upon imperfect recollections. The bust of every remarkable person should be taken from the life as a memorial of his organization, and a bequest of knowledge to mankind. Before concluding, let me mention one thing. I wish you could find some person who would make a table of the different races of mankind who have settled in the Island of Britain, and whose progeny now form its chequered population; together with the districts they took possession of, or where they amalgamated themselves with former inhabitants. Yours, &c. SCHEFFER'S ESSAY ON ENGLISH THIS little pamphlet deserves notice, not on account of any intrinsic merit which it possesses, but on account of its being written by a man of some celebrity as a political writer. Mr Scheffer, as our readers are probably aware, is a German who has long been settled in France, and who, since the downfall of Napoleon, has more than once attracted to himself the attention of the French government by the extraordinary freedom of his pen. His Essay on the Political State of his own Country, although disfigured both by some looseness of premises, and some extravagance of conclusion, was, nevertheless, in the main, an interesting and even intelligent book; and, in truth, the worst of its errors were easily pardoned, because the general justice of its complaints was indisputable, and because English readers found no great difficulty in excusing the born subject of an arbitrary government for writing in a vague and visionary manner concerning freedom. We suspect that the present publication will very much lower the reputation of its author, and consequently, perhaps, that of his former productions. Mr. Scheffer has now come upon ground with which we are better acquainted. He has ventured to write concerning the state of our own country; nay, he has even been so bold as to undertake a description of our own feelings; and finding him, as we doubt not our readers will do, to be utterly ignorant of both, it is scarcely to be expected that we should not reason from certain and egregious blunders here to others less certain, (Essai sur la politique de la nation Anglaise et du gouvernement Britannique.) but, it may be, no less egregious else where. In short, we are afraid that this essay has given the coup-de-grace to Mr. Scheffer's authority, and that henceforth, in spite of his German name, and his little tincture of idealism, he will come to be generally looked upon as no better than another inmate of Charenton-au fond, a mere Frenchman, as ignorant, and as insolent in his ignorance, as most of the political writers of that lively people are found to be; more especially when they presume to give any opinion concerning the affairs of another people, with whom, unhappily for themselves, they have not as yet much in common. Mr. Scheffer has lived long_enough in Paris to write very good French. Another effect of the same education has been an almost total oblivion of many of the best parts of the German character,-a lamentable descent from the purity and dignity of feeling which, in the midst of their greatest errors, seldom abandon the good writers of his country,-a too effectual infusion of the envy, and baseness, and uncharitableness which England and Europe have found to be the invariable, and which they may therefore be pardoned for suspecting to be the inseparable companions of Jacobinism. The book, however, is deserving of some little notice on another account. It is in effect the first regular translation, into the language of foreigners, of the odious trash which is commonly presented to us in a less attractive form by the orators of the commoncouncil room and Spa-fields,-by Mr. Bristol Hunt, and Mr. Examiner Hunt, and the rest of that family, who would so fain have the liberty of England to resemble that of Corcyra.† When the Orator rode into the scene of his seditious tumult to the music of the Marseilloise, preceded by the bonnet rouge and the Tricolor, he favoured us with at least a candid con fession of the intentions of his 'party here. Mr. Scheffer, by stating it as the result of his patient study of the history of England, that there is no hope of safety for us, unless our sovereign forthwith sends the seals of office to Sir Francis Burdett and a cabinet of his kidney, + Ελεύθερα Κερκυρα: χεζ' όπε θελεις. Libera est Corcyra: ubi vis, caca. has done us a favour of the same species. Were it not for some little traits of sincerity, not to be mistaken, both in his life and his writings, we should almost be inclined to suspect Mein Herr of having meditated a German joke upon his readers, and aimed at nothing more than a ponderous reductio ad absurdum of the arguments in use among the reformers on both sides of the water. But we shall not enlarge upon this idea, lest we should incur the suspicion of equal ambition, and perhaps come off with our joke as badly as the German has done with his. Mr. Scheffer begins his pamphlet, as all French pamphlets, speeches, and addresses are begun, with a few epigrammatic enunciations, from which it is no doubt expected, that the uninitiated should suppose the sequel of the book to depend, in the same manner as the propositions in Euclid are consequences of his axioms and postulates. "Le but evident de toute société humaine," says our author, " est la sûreté, la tranquillité, en un mot le bonheur de tous les individus qui composent la societé." This maxim, continues he, has been admitted by all reasoners, but in general it has been misinterpreted and misapplied. From it the friends of despotism justify their odious doctrines, and superstition comes in to assist them with her terrors, atris caput circumdata nubis. From it the enlightened (les vraiement eclairés) deduce the luminous clue which enables them to thread their path through all the labyrinths of custom and prejudice, and to arrive at last at the intima penetralia of the temple of political wisdom; the holy region which neither kings, nor nobles, nor those who approve of either, can approach sans perdre leur etat,"without becoming citoyens. The true meaning of the maxim has always, nevertheless, according to Scheffer, been felt and understood by the great majority of the nations of Europe. A few of these have already, by means of extraordinary advantages and accidents, enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing the maxim in some measure applied to the purposes of their own comfort. The English, for example, about two centuries ago, approached very nearly to the condition of a free people. That happiness has indeed, in the course of events, become vastly im 66 |