gh; and I sought up others of a similar
character, and in seeking for them I met books also of adventure, but by
no means of a harmless description, lives of wicked and lawless men,
Murray and Latroon--books of singular power, but of coarse and prurient
imagination--books at one time highly in vogue; now deservedly forgotten,
and most difficult to be found.

And when I had gone through these books, what was my state of mind? I
had derived entertainment from their perusal, but they left me more
listless and unsettled than before, and I really knew not what to do to
pass my time. My philological studies had become distasteful, and I had
never taken any pleasure in the duties of my profession. I sat behind my
desk in a state of torpor, my mind almost as blank as the paper before
me, on which I rarely traced a line. It was always a relief to hear the
bell ring, as it afforded me an opportunity of doing something which I
was yet capable of doing, to rise and open the door and stare in the
countenances of the visitors. All of a sudden I fell to studying
countenances, and soon flattered myself that I had made considerable
progress in the science.

"There is no faith in countenances," said some Roman of old; "trust
anything but a person's countenance." "Not trust a man's countenance?"
say some moderns; "why, it is the only thing in many people that we can
trust; on which account they keep it most assiduously out of the way.
Trust not a man's words if you please, or you may come to very erroneous
conclusions; but at all times place implicit confidence in a man's
countenance, in which there is no deceit; and of necessity there can be
none. If people would but look each other more in the face, we should
have less cause to complain of the deception of the world; nothing so
easy as physiognomy nor so useful." Somewhat in this latter strain I
thought at the time of which I am speaking. I am now older, and, let us
hope, less presumptuous. It is true that in the course of my life I have
scarcely ever had occasion to repent placing confidence in individuals
whose countenances have prepossessed me in their favour; though to how
many I may have been unjust, from whose countenances I may have drawn
unfavourable conclusions, is another matter.

But it had been decreed by that Fate which governs our every action, that
I was soon to return to my old pursuits. It was written that I should
not yet cease to be Lav-engro, though I ha