goes one head-ache; two head-aches one lecture; two lectures 'the sack.' To those gentlemen who are lovers of the Virginia weed in its native purity, a list of prices, 'furnished by one of the first _Spanish_ houses,' is published. It includes 'choice high-dried dock-leaf regalias,' 'fine old cabbage Cuba's,' 'genuine goss-lettuce Havana's,' and 'full-flavored brown-paper Government Manilla's!' Two scraps under the head of '_University Intelligence_' must close our quotations: 'Given the _force_ with which your fist is propelled against a cabman, and the _angle_ at which it strikes him; required the _area_ of mud he will cover on reaching the _horizontal plane_.' 'Show the incorrectness of using _imaginary quantities_, by attempting to put off your creditors with repeated promises to pay them out of your Pennsylvania dividends.' . . . MANY German physicians and surgeons hold that there remains in the brain of a decollated head some degree of thought, and in the nerves something of sensibility. It is stated by his biographer, that in the case of Sir EVERARD DIGBY, executed for a participation in the Gunpowder Plot, the tongue pronounced several words after the head was severed from the body. After the execution of CHARLOTTE CORDAY, also, it is alleged that the executioner held up her lovely head by its beautiful hair, and slapped the pale cheeks, which instantly reddened, and gave to the features such an expression of unequivocal indignation, that the spectators, struck by the change of color, with loud murmurs cried out for vengeance on barbarity so cowardly and atrocious. 'It could not be said,' writes Dr. SUE, a physician of the first eminence and authority in Paris, 'that the redness was caused by the blow, since no blow can ever recall any thing like color to the cheeks of a corpse; beside, this blow was given on one cheek, and the other equally reddened.' Singular facts. Do they not militate against certain theories of 'nervous sensation' recently promulgated in our philosophical circles? . . . DOESN'T it sicken you, reader, to hear a young lady use that common but horrid commercial metaphor, '_first-rate?_' 'How did you like CASTELLAN, last evening, Miss HUGGINS?' '_Oh, first-rate!_' 'When a girl makes use of this expression,' writes an eastern friend, 'I mutter inly,' 'Your pa' sells figs and salt-fish, I know he does.' And it is all very well and proper, if he _does_; but for the miserable compound itself, pray kill it dead in your Magazine! Hit it hard! By the by, talking of odd phrases, hear this. A young Italian friend of mine, fresh from Sicily as his own oranges, a well-educated, talented person, who has labored hard to get familiar with English letters, and has read our authors, from CHAUCER downward, dilated thus on the poets: 'PO-PE is very mosh like HORACE; I like him very mosh; but I tink BIR-RON was very sorry poet.' 'What!' quoth I, 'BYRON a sorry poet! I thought he was a