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other portraits of Warwickshire worthies are contrastel with the bust and portrait at Stratford, we shall find further evidence for arriving at the conclusion that Jansen's portraiture is the most truthful of all the pictures yet painted as a likeness of Shakspere. It would be interesting and suggestive to contrast the portraits of Leicester by Garrard, the Stratford bust, and the portrait at the birthplace, with the picture of Sir William Dugdale, painted by Borsseller, and the portrait of Shakspere by Jansen.

The portrait of Dugdale indicates a man endowed with a fine and harmonious

mental development-viz., large perceptive powers, keen observation, great range of view, and a very active temperament, with great love of facts, order, and arrangement. The active conditions of body and highly-wrought brain are forcibly indicated by the expressions of the features, as well as by the temperament and the physical proportions. The very hands bespeak this active and practical tendency of his mind. The gross forms of Leicester, with the sensuous appetites and feeble hands, form a striking contrast with the finer forms of Dugdale, in his head, his hands, and his bust. The conclusion must be, that Dugdale, rather than Leicester, and Jansen, rather than the bust or the portrait at Stratford, represent the type of head in the intellectual forms pertaining to a poet of Shakspere's sensitive, active, and comprehensive character.

The Conclusions. In glancing at the results of these enquiries, we find that until the present century the mere artist was not in possession of any scientific knowledge of the relation of cerebral organisation, or form of head, with capacity and character; and that, even at the present time, few artists fully and practically comprehend or embody these relations:

That several portraits said to be Shakspere cannot be genuine : that the bust at Stratford was taken from a cast of a living face, and one without a moustache ; and therefore, not a copy from Shakspere after death : that the Stratford portrait has no claim to be considered a genuine likeness of the poet: that the Droeshout portrait, though interesting, and possessing some resemblance to the features and proportions of the poet, appears too narrow at the sides of the head, deficient in the perceptive region over the eyebrows, and the proportions too weak for the head of a poet like Shakspere: that the Chandos portrait, originally painted as a likeness, has been so much altered and improved” as to remove it from the list of reliable portraits, it is moreover, painted of a dark complexion, and in

style later than that at which the poet lived: that the mask said to be taken after death singularly agrees in form, physiognomy, and complexion, with the portraits by Jansen: that the complexion of the poet, from direct and collateral evidence, was, fike the majority of the Anglo-Saxon race in the county, and the living descendants of his sister, fair, and his physiognomy aquiline: that the portrait from Shottery, said to be "Susanna, the daughter of Shakspere," and discovered by the author to belong to indigent descendants of the Hathaways, is fair, aquiline, and finely formed ; and when put side by side with another picture from the birth-place in Henley-street, found to be the counterpart, except in age, and singularly like it in feature, pose, and complexion: and lastly, that while educational influences, circum. stances, and training, are important in the development of human intellect, genius is the heritage of cerebral quality and physical conditions in the family and the race; and that the structural condition of the cerebral and physical constitution of the ancestry were united, concentrated, and manifested in the extraordinary powers of iutellect and character of eminent men ; and that the ancestors of Shakspere show a long line of men of superior moral and mental attributes ; and that mainly to the Ardens the world owes the noble heritage of the refined sensibilities and genius of Shakspere.

Note.--Professor Owen informs me that the Mask from Shakspere's face is in his possession, and not at the British Museum, as previously stated.

London : FRED. PITMAN, 20, Paternoster Row, E.C.

Printed by J. WARD, Dewsbury.

Popular Lecturer and Reader.

Edited by HENRY PITMAN, Manchester.

No. 23. (sete) NOVEMBER, 1864.





Juthor of "The Moslem and Hindoo,” &c.

[Delivered at the Shropshire Mechanics' and Literary Institution, Feb. 8th.]

J AM to speak to you to-night on the River Avon. There are several rivers bearing this name—

-Avon being an old common name for all rivers. The one of which I am about to speak is the Upper, or as it is called, the Warwickshire Avon. It takes its rise from a village in Northamptonshire, from a well bearing its own name. The direction of its course is first to the north-west, then changing to the south-west it becomes the boundary between the counties of Northampton and Leicester. It crosses the Old Watlingstreet Road at Dove Bridge, and mingling with the waters of the Swift, flows on to the town of Rugby. Leaving Coventry and its spires on the right-not caring to look at Peeping Tom, and satisfied with such reports of the fair and tender-hearted Godiva as the waters of the Sow may bring from the ancient city—it winds along through the rich demesne of Stoneley. Skirting the Abbey, it passes thence to the quiet shade of Guy's Cliff, and onward by the stately, walls of Warwick Castle to Stratford, made immortal by the name of Shakspere. From Stratford it winds along through rich meadows to the fruitful vale of Eveshan, and after this, it reaches Tewkesbury, there to lose itself in the waters of your own Severn.

The old common name is still retained by the Welsh, who often apply it to their rivulets and brooks. The Welsh Afon, therefore, recalls many fresh impressions to those who haợe seen these little streamlets hurrying down from the hills into the valleys. Let us look at such a one a moment, born in the recesses of Moel Siabod, a mountain dark and rough with volcanic remains. Issuing from its secluded home, beneath the Eagle Crag, fresh and free like a true child of nature, down the mountain side it goes, bubbling and bright and sparkling ; and onward still over rock, and steep, and precipice, like some rash and changing spirit, now broken into foam and spray, now girt about with rainbow colours ; and onward then again through eddying pool, and down the rushing noisy rapid, chanting its untaught music so suggestive to the listener; and restless ever onward still by brake and briar


Till in the far-off meadow we see it wind about,

Where hangs the brittle alder, and lurks the speckled trout. And then again by homestead, and by hedgerow, till

All full of summer light, a silver thread,

It lies upon the landscape. Our English rivers are scarcely so wild and free in their beginnings as these mountain streams, yet they are not without their own peculiar beauties, as they come clear and bubbling from some less secluded spring. They have their own charms and associations, full both of sober thought and of joyousness.

We may wander down beside them,

And see the waters run,
As they sport among the pebbles,

And sparkle in the sun.
We may listen to their voices,

For they whisper as they go,
Where the deeply-scented violet

And modest primrose grow.
Yes! they whisper-who can tell us

What warm mem'ries they still hold
What brightness from the vanished past

Their voices can unfold !
And the flowers upon the banks,

As they tell of life's young day,
When its summer was all sunshine,

And its joyousness all play.

he following lines are descriptive of the Avon :

There is a river of a world-wide fame,
Which sluggishly moves onward in its course,
Watering most fertile meads: by sacred hauuts
Famous in song—by castle walls it flows,
Whose stately towers and hoary battlements
Rise in majestic form above the flood,
And mirror'd in the dark deep pool below,
Tell passing ages to look on and see
How small a change across their greatness comes :
A little hoary here and there with years,
Seems but the touch of beauty, and the tint
Of dignity to such ancestral home.
On winds that sleepy stream through meadows fair,
And 'neath the hanging woods, and by the home
Where genius once arose and lived and walked
The earth like common mortals, and gave birth
To thought-such thought as dwells but with the wise
And gifted-which engraves for after years
The mem'ries of the past on fleeting time,
With characters of such true vital fire,
That thro' long centuries they shine, and draw
With gravitating influence; and men
Behold their light, and wonder, and draw near
To read their golden wisdom. Lessons writ
From out the heart, and speaking to the heart,
Words, character, and thoughts, from out the man
Taken with skilful hand, and to the man
Speaking again with deep intensity.
By battle-field that river flows, and hears
The distant sound of savage strife—the cry
Of hate that up from civil discord springs,
Fiercer than when the deadly struggle sets
Against a foreign foe. Then gliding on,
Rolls and forgets, itself ere long to be
Forgotten—its existence cease-its name
Fade as things earthly quit this mortal scene.

I have been in some doubt whether to commence at the source of the river, and following the stream downward, speak of such events as present themselves in its course ; or whether to take the oldest events first, and so descend, as it

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