would totally supersede the dread of a superabundant population, and prevent our becoming like "the cannibals who each other eat." I am borne out in this opinion by the general rule that nothing was made in vain; and it is but fair to think that the multiplication of worlds was but a provision of nature for phrenological discoveries.

I have here thrown out matter to excite rather than to satiate inquiry; but, before I conclude, I would call the attention of the public to some circumstances which, properly considered, may make it probable that man, in his more perfect state, was cognizant of this divine science; glimmerings of which, like the glimpses of primeval existence that glorify the poets imagination, have broken in upon and illumined the darkness of his fall. To what are we to attribute the fashion of wearing top knots, or a tuft of hair on the front of the head, but a desire of appearing more than naturally benevolent? Was not the shorn crown of monachism intended to display the organ of veneration? and, from a similar motive, do not some Mahomedans of the present day, wear a long lock on the same spot to assist the angel of death in transporting them to their heaven? Was not the Round-headed Parliament framed upon this system-seeing that phrenology accounts those pericraniums most perfect in which equalization of developement produces an appearance of rotundity? Did not the Jesuits perform miracles in education by teaching on the system of distinct faculties?

Many other instances might be adduced, but I do not wish to wear out my subject. So farewell for the present; you may depend upon hearing how I succeed in my matrimonial speculations.

POSTSCRIPT.

All

In about twelve months after the receipt of the foregoing article, we got, through the Post-office, a long letter from the poor Phrenologist, detailing his failure in the matrimonial speculation, and intimating his resolution of abandoning the doctrine in which hitherto he had been so firm a believer. things had gone wrong with him. He had procured a beautiful and interesting young creature, of very quick intellect, but all the bumps appeared to be placed awry. Her organ of "tune," of which there was a most obvious developement, turned out a decided failure, and, from her progress in arithmetic, seemed to have assumed the function of "numbers." "Wit" appeared to have taken the place of lower individuality;" and "order" changed position with "colour." Yet, notwithstanding all these disappointments, the amiability of her disposition won so upon him that he insensibly began to love her; and she returned the affection, but only with the feeling of a daughter. She met a young officer towards

warmly returned.

whom she contracted a tenderer passion, which was She avowed it to our kind hearted Phrenologist; who, with the disinterestedness so obvious through the whole of his confession, smothered his own love to gratify a passion more suitable, and she now stands with him only in the relationship of a dear ward, towards whom he exercises all the duties of a kind father. He finds more pleasure, he says, in watching over her education, than in his former vain attempts to ameliorate the condition of the human race. Phrenological studies he has particularly abandoned; but, if any of its advocates will discover and establish an organ of "red-coativeness," incident to all woman-kind, and almost without an exception, he may be tempted to give the system a new trial and a further investigation.

ROBERT EMMETT.

In the album of one,

Who resides where thy name Is twined with dishonour,

And blended with shame ; Where the virtues, the glory,

The hopes that adorned, Thy struggle, thy story,

Thy death-scene are scorned.

Yes, Emmett, even here,

Shall thy name be set down,
Tho' by eyes that are dear,
It be met with a frown;
Yes, martyr of Freedom!
And if she but knew

1ts value, its worth,

She would cherish it too.

For my sake, Felicia,

Then let it remain ;

'Tis part of my spirit—

The part without stain

"Tis blent with those watch-words

No tyrant can quell,

Harmodius, and Washington,

Brutus and Tell!

Yes, spirit! to me but a spirit thou art,
A bodiless vision- -a dream of the heart;
I see not thy form, I hear not thy voice,
Yet thon com'st o'er my spirit, and bid'st it rejoice.

Is it thus, is it thus, in the bright bowers above,
Those meet, who on earth were united in love :
Whose souls were, like parts of some rapturous tune,
All blent into song-is it thus they commune?

Do they ask not for words their emotion to speak-
The glance of the eye, or the flush of the cheek;
But, spirit to spirit divinely inclined,

Meet, mix, and dissolve in the union of mind?

And is not this silent communion most sweet?

Oh! say, would the bright spell be o'er if we meet?
If so-let us still be apart-let no stain

Be upon it-no shadow of earth intervene.

Let spirit meet spirit, soul mingle with soul,
Pure, free, and undimmed by the bodies control :
Be earth, and the things that are of it, forgot;
Let us live but in thought, as if substance were not.

No Plato! you dreamer! that never will do,

To drink bliss from one cup, when the gods give us two,
Fond words are far sweeter, when fond lips declare 'em,
And bright thoughts are brighter, when kind glances bear 'em