roasted wild-boar, when the same little man who had driven Ahasuerus from Auerbach's, and who was Gifford, the editor of the Quarterly, looked up at me and said in a sandy-haired tone of voice,

"I will take a piece not quite so fat, I thank you.'

How he came there I could not divine; but I had the carving-knife in my hand and the thought of poor Keats in my heart. I made a spring at him and seized him by the hair, but he eluded me, leaving his wig in my grasp. I however caught him near an open window over the court-yard. There I deliberately cut his head from his body, (after turning the edge of my knife in an ineffectual attempt to pierce his heart,) and threw it out of the window. It alighted on the head of another critic below, and, displacing it, fixed itself firmly in its stead without his seeming conscious of the change. This gentleman has since very much distinguished himself as an enemy of the new school of philosophy and poetry. Almost before I was aware of what I had done, I was in Newgate, having

been tried, damned, and sentenced, in the interim, by Lord Thurlow.

The morning of my execution was bitter cold; but, in spite of this, all round the scaffold surged and tossed a sea of horrid faces, none of whose features my dizzy eyes could discern. The chaplain told me to pray, and I repeated "Now I lay me down to sleep," being the only prayer I could in my bewilderment recollect. The hangman, who was the very conservative Mr. Dennis, immortalized in Barnaby Rudge, was drumming with his feet upon the scaffold to warm them, and muttering something about kept waiting till his breakfast was cold. by one the cannibals below took up the cry, and yelled and screamed the same words over and over, till they grew absolutely horrible. But

One

above all I could hear Mr. Dennis's feet drumming, and his infernal muttering about his breakfast, and I awoke to hear my father knocking a second time at my door, and telling me in a remonstrating tone that they had taken breakfast an hour ago, and that mine was irretrievably cooled.

on Foreheads

By Job Simifrons ", Altitudo!"

-Sir Thomas Browne "Such is the iniquity of men that they suck in opinions as wild asses do the wind."

-Bishop Caplor

HE humorous Charles Lamb divides

TH

the human species into two distinct races: "the men who borrow, and the men who lend." This division lacks definiteness; for these races too often become intermingled. We choose to divide the species into men with high and men with low foreheads. If it be objected to this, that there are some who have foreheads which are neither high or low, but intermediate,-like Washington's for instance, we reply that such must be considered either as not belonging to the human species, or else as amphibious animals, having some qualities peculiar to both and each of these races.

Those belonging to the high forehead race, strikingly resemble, in some particulars, Lamb's great race of borrowers. "Their infinite superiority is discernible in their figure, port, and a certain instinctive air of sovereignty. What a careless, even deportment they have! What rosy gills!" With what perfect self-complacency he of the high forehead visiteth his looking-glass, and halteth thereat; brushing away and plastering down with brush and Macassar

each envious hair that offereth to obscure any portion of that expanded arc of bald cuticle! With what condescension he looketh down upon his brethren of the inferior race! And verily he hath reason; for the world backs up his pretensions, and maintains that a high forehead is not only prima facie, but almost incontrovertible, evidence of superiority of intellect; and that with a low one, a man must be little better than "non compos," or else a strange exception to nature's law.

But of all the absurd opinions of the world, this is the climax. For it is neither more nor less than saying that a man's mind depends on the quantity of his hair, or on the size of his scalp. Allowing this be true, he who is bald to the occipital bone, will possess at least twice the intellect of people in general; and if his head be bald as a ninepin ball to the cerebellum, he will be a greater genius than has yet afflicted our globe. On this theory, a fool may be metamorphosed instanter into a genius, by sending him on a single campaign against the Seminoles; or if such a journey be deemed too expensive, or if