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 "THE REFLECTOR."