was characterized by the Nervous temperament. A blacksmith in the neighbourhood, of great muscular power, a violent politician, exceedingly pugnacious, having knocked down some score of opponents at the last general election, and who bore the appropriate nick name of the "sledge-hammer of democracy," was said to be of a Billous temperament, accompanied with a large developement of combativeness.

In this way does my misguided son explain every thing upon his new-fangled principles of mental philosophy.

The other day his youngest sister, a child only eight years of age, while looking at the poultry in the barnyard, asked why the roosters and turkey-cocks carried their heads so erect, throwing them back, and strutting with more pomposity than the other fowls? I told her it was owing to the will of God, who had made it a part of their nature so to carry themselves: but William immediately corrected me, stating that their apparently haughty deportment was the inevitable consequence of their self esteem, preponderating over the other faculties. That, it seems, is the 'organ' of pride, and is to be found in every animated being from a mite to a man; but my little girl said she did not understand the cause so well after her brother's explanation as she did before.

It is impossible to say when he will have stocked his little farm, as he is so very particular in examining every individual animal on these foolish phrenological principles before he bargains for them. He choses the males of every kind by the largeness of their necks, and the females by the projection of their philoprogenitive

ness! Nor is he likely to obtain many friends-having declared his determination to form no intimacy with persons in whose heads benevolence, firmness, and conscientiousness, are not largely developed-in addition to their adhesiveness.

He has just refused to let my old carpenter build him a barn, because his organ of constructiveness is small. Nor would he vote for the new school-master on account of the littleness of his number. He has likewise asserted publicly that Deacon Janus and the Domine are both hypocrites, inasmuch as they have flat heads, without any perceptible veneration.

You will probably be weary of this lengthened detail of my child's follies, and my consequent tribulations but I write to you as an old friend in whom I can place full confidence. I desire your opinion as to the propriety of either letting the insane subject of this letter remain with us, for time to work a change in him—or sending him at once to the New York Lunatic Asylum. I am indeed in a most miserable dilemma, and earnestly request your advice. Pray give it me with sincerity and speed. Yours &c.

P. S. Don't forget to send for the game, &c.

After having read this letter carefully through I wrote to my old acquaintance, recommending him to study the science of phrenology himself without prejudice: stating it as my opinion that when he had become fully acquainted with its merits he would feel satisfied that his son William, respecting whose state of mind he is in such terrible distress, is no more crazy than one half the philosophers of modern times.

OH! CRUEL! A POEM.

Written by the Lord knows who.

If the good old rule were rigidly adhered to, viz:

"Let those teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well,"

criticism would certainly not be a universal occupation; and that self important class of men styled critics, would be so materially diminished that every individual member of it might be supplied with "gallons of broth and pounds of bullock's liver," (Peter Pinder's food for them,) at a very trifling expense to the humane. Notwithstanding this we are about to enter on the perilous undertaking of reviewing one of the most original and interesting poetic effusions in the English language. The Spartan brevity of the title first attracted our notice, and induced a careful perusal of the whole poem.

Before proceeding any farther we beg leave to observe, that although it has been said the whole of our tribe are influenced by spite and malice; and that we would rather tear off a cataplasm from a wound, and expose it to the cold, biting, frosty atmosphere, than apply the smallest quantity of spermaceti, or any other healing ointment to it; the assertion has been hastily made -without proper discrimination-and without candour. In short we deny the charge, come from whatever quarter it may. Every true critic whose heart is in his hand, and whose pen is governed in its movements by . the pulsations of that muscle, knows it to be false.

There is more true pleasure both in reading and commending a work of merit than in all the carping, sneering, sarcasm, and abuse, which the most copious vocabulary of criticism can supply. In our review of this production we shall have an opportunity to demonstate that in the foregoing sentences we have written "the truth, and nothing but the truth." We have, indeed, a pleasing task before us; and we anxiously desire, that all who honour this critique with a persusal may partipate with us in our most delightful sensations.

The subject matter of the poem consists of lamentations, eloquently poured forth by a lady of exquisite taste, refined sensibility, and most vivid imagination, on account of the forcible abduction of him who had entire possession of her warm and succeptible heart of reflections on the cruelty of the various agents concerned in the nefarious enterprize, as well as the different incidents connected with it-some consolatory considerations arising from consciousness of constancy, and a solemn injunction to the whole female world to persevere in their attachments in spite of fate: with the promise that such faithfulness should receive the unexampled reward of

"-fiddling in a morning, and a drop of max at night."

The most prominent feature on the face of this poem (it must be understood here that we are speaking figuratively, and of course do not mean the nose of it,) is pathos, with strong, deep-rooted, ardent affection; singularly compounded of nine tenths melancholy with one of joy; a very unequal admixture of painful and

pleasurable feelings, it must be confessed, but well calculated to excite unto sobbing and sighing the most obdurate thorax of the most obstinate stoic in existence. The first line

"Oh! cruel was my parents as tore my love from me,"

although calculated to awaken the sympathy of the reader, is involved in some obscurity: inasmuch as no reason is assigned for such an outrageous proceeding. Yet there is an advantage even in this. Room is afforded for conjecture: and every one is at liberty to form his own. With regard to ourselves we are resolved to abstain from any attempt at explanation: knowing, as we do, that every person who undertakes it will be much better pleased with his own suggestions than any we have it in our power to offer.

The lines

"And cruel was the little boat as rowed him from the strand, And cruel was the great big ship as sailed him from the land,"

are worthy of particular notice, on account of the difference in the quantity of cruelty connected with these different sized agents in this most cruel proceeding. We however, pass over the malconduct of the "little boat," in consequence of our indignation being irresistably drawn to the more enormous sinner, the "great big ship." On the perusal of this line we involuntarily rise from our two armed, or un-armed chair, stretch our corporeal frame to its utmost altitude, throw out our shoulders in order that we may breathe freely, and give our whole person one energetic shake like a Newfoundland