negative, rules for their use, for my ambition extends no further than to arm them with cautions against the self-defeating of their own purposes :

1. Imprimis, then, Mr. Advertiser, if the culprit whom you are willing to recover be one to whom in times past you have shown kindness, and been disposed to think kindly of him yourself, but he has deceived your trust, and has run away, and left you with a load of debt to answer for him,-sit down calmly, and endeavour to behold him through the spectacles of memory rather than of present conceit. Image to yourself, before you pen a tittle of his description, the same plausible, good-looking man who took you in; and try to put away from your mind every intrusion of that deceitful spectre which perpetually obtrudes itself in the room of your former friend's known visage. It will do you more credit to have been deceived by such a one; and depend upon it, the traitor will convey to the eyes of the world in general much more of that first idea which you formed (perhaps in part erroneous) of his physiognomy, than of that frightful substitute which you have suffered to creep in upon your mind and usurp upon it; a creature which has no archetype except in your own brain.

2. If you be a master that have to advertise a runaway apprentice, though the young dog's faults are known only to you, and no doubt his conduct has been aggravating enough, do not presently set him down as having crooked ankles. He may have a good pair of legs, and run away notwithstanding. Indeed the latter does rather seem to imply the former.

3. If the unhappy person against whom your laud

able vengeance is directed be a thief, think that a thief may have a good nose, good eyes, good ears. It is indispensable to his profession that he be possessed of sagacity, foresight, vigilance. It is more than probable, then, that he is endued with the bodily types or instruments of these qualities to some tolerable degree of perfectness.

I

4. If petty larceny be his offence, I exhort you, do not confound meanness of crime with diminutiveness of stature. These things have no connexion. have known a tall man stoop to the basest action, a short man aspire to the height of crime, a fair man be guilty of the foulest actions, &c.

5. Perhaps the offender has been guilty of some atrocious and aggravated murder. Here is the most difficult case of all. It is, above all, requisite that such a daring violator of the peace and safety of society should meet with his reward, a violent and ignominious death. But how shall we get at him? Who is there among us that has known him before he committed the offence, that shall take upon him to say he can sit down coolly and pen a dispassionate description of a murderer? The tales of our nursery, -the reading of our youth,-the ill-looking man that was hired by the Uncle to despatch the Children in the Wood, the grim ruffians who smothered the babes in the Tower,-the black and beetle-browed assassin of Mrs. Ratcliffe, the shag-haired villain of Mr. Monk Lewis,-the Tarquin tread, and mill-stone dropping eyes, of Murder in Shakspeare,-the exaggerations of picture and of poetry,-what we have read and what we have dreamed of,-rise up and crowd in upon us such eye-scaring portraits of the man of blood, that our pen is absolutely forestalled;

we commence poets when we should play the part of strictest historians, and the very blackness of horror which the deed calls up, serves as a cloud to screen the doer. The fiction is blameless, it is accordant with those wise prejudices with which Nature has guarded our innocence, as with impassable barriers, against the commission of such appalling crimes ; but, meantime, the criminal escapes; or if,-owing to that wise abatement in their expectation of deformity, which, as I hinted at before, the officers of pursuit never fail to make, and no doubt in cases of this sort they make a more than ordinary allowance, -if, owing to this or any accident, the offender is caught and brought to his trial, who that has been led out of curiosity to witness such a scene has not with astonishment reflected on the difference between a real committer of a murder, and the idea of one which he has been collecting and heightening all his life out of books, dreams, &c.? The fellow, perhaps, is a sleek, smug-looking man, with light hair and eyebrows, the latter by no means jutting out or like a crag, and with none of those marks which our fancy had pre-bestowed upon him.

I find I am getting unawares too serious. The best way on such occasions is to leave off; which I shall do by generally recommending to all prosecuting advertisers not to confound crimes with ugliness; or rather, to distinguish between that physiognomical deformity, which I am willing to grant always accompanies crime, and mere physical ugliness, which signifies nothing, is the opponent of nothing, and may exist in a good or bad person indifferently.

CRITO.

ON THE INCONVENIENCES RESULTING FROM BEING HANGED.

TO THE EDITOR OF

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THE REFLECTOR."

SIR,-I am one of those unhappy persons whose misfortunes, it seems, do not entitle them to the benefit of pure pity. All that is bestowed upon me of that kindest alleviator of human miseries comes dashed with a double portion of contempt. My griefs have nothing in them that is felt as sacred by the bystanders. Yet is my affliction, in truth. of the deepest grain, the heaviest task that was ever given to mortal patience to sustain. Time, that wears out all other sorrows, can never modify or soften mine. Here they must continue to gnaw as long at that fatal mark

Why was I ever born? Why was innocence in my person suffered to be branded with a stain which was appointed only for the blackest guilt? What had I done, or my parents, that a disgrace of mine should involve a whole posterity in infamy? I am almost tempted to believe that in some pre-existent state, crimes, to which this sublunary life of mine hath been as much a stranger as the babe that is newly born into it, have drawn down upon me this vengeance, so disproportionate to my actions on this globe.

My brain sickens and my bosom labours to be delivered of the weight that presses upon it, yet my

conscious pen shrinks from the avowal. But out it

must

O, Mr. Reflector, guess at the wretch's misery who now writes this to you, when, with tears and burning blushes, he is obliged to confess that he has been HANGED!

Methinks I hear an involuntary exclamation burst from you, as your imagination presents to you fearful images of your correspondent unknown-hanged!

Fear not, Mr. Editor. No disembodied spirit has the honour of addressing you. I am flesh and blood, an unfortunate system of bones, muscles, sinews, arteries, like yourself.

Then, I presume, you mean to be pleasant.-That expression of yours, Mr. Correspondent, must be taken somehow in a metaphorical sense

In the plainest sense, without trope or figure,— Yes, Mr. Editor, this neck of mine has felt the fatal noose; these hands have tremblingly held up the corroborative prayer-book; these lips have sucked the moisture of the last consolatory orange; this tongue has chanted the doleful cantata which no performer was ever called upon to repeat; this face has had the veiling night-cap drawn over it, but for no crime of mine.

Far be it from me to arraign the justice of my country, which, though tardy, did at length recognise my innocence. It is not for me to reflect upon judge or jury, now that eleven years have elapsed since the erroneous sentence was pronounced. Men will always be fallible, and perhaps circumstances did appear at the time a little strong.

Suffice it to say, that after hanging four minutes, (as the spectators were pleased to compute it,-a