“Here is the skull of a bullfinch, and that of an eminent fiddler.  You may compare the organ of music.

“Here is the skull of a tiger.  You observe the organ of carnage.  Here is the skull of a fox.  You observe the organ of plunder.  Here is the skull of a peacock.  You observe the organ of vanity.  Here is the skull of an illustrious robber, who, after a long and triumphant process of depredation and murder, was suddenly checked in his career by means of a certain quality inherent in preparations of hemp, which, for the sake of perspicuity, I shall call suspensiveness.  Here is the skull of a conqueror, who, after over-running several kingdoms, burning a number of cities, and causing the deaths of two or three millions of men, women, and children, was entombed with all the pageantry of public lamentation, and figured as the hero of several thousand odes and a round dozen of epics; while the poor highwayman was twice executed—­

    ’At the gallows first, and after in a ballad,
    Sung to a villainous tune.’

“You observe, in both these skulls, the combined development of the organs of carnage, plunder, and vanity, which I have separately pointed out in the tiger, the fox, and the peacock.  The greater enlargement of the organ of vanity in the hero is the only criterion by which I can distinguish them from each other.  Born with the same faculties, and the same propensities, these two men were formed by nature to run the same career:  the different combinations of external circumstances decided the differences of their destinies.

“Here is the skull of a Newfoundland dog.  You observe the organ of benevolence, and that of attachment.  Here is a human skull, in which you may observe a very striking negation of both these organs; and an equally striking development of those of destruction, cunning, avarice, and self-love.  This was one of the most illustrious statesmen that ever flourished in the page of history.

“Here is the skull of a turnspit, which, after a wretched life of dirty work, was turned out of doors to die on a dunghill.  I have been induced to preserve it, in consequence of its remarkable similarity to this, which belonged to a courtly poet, who having grown grey in flattering the great, was cast off in the same manner to perish by the same catastrophe.”

After these, and several other illustrations, during which the skulls were handed round for the inspection of the company, Mr Cranium proceeded thus:—­

“It is obvious, from what I have said, that no man can hope for worldly honour or advancement, who is not placed in such a relation to external circumstances as may be consentaneous to his peculiar cerebral organs; and I would advise every parent, who has the welfare of his son at heart, to procure as extensive a collection as possible of the skulls of animals, and, before determining on the choice of a profession, to compare