We have Heads (often local) and Tates many; indeed, they are truly _tête-à-tête_ in the Directory, for of the latter no less than eleven are in immediate proximity. We have Silverlock, Whitelock, or Whitlock, Blacklock, and the remains of an old fashion common to mediæval beaux in Lovelock. Redhead, and Whitehead, and Hoar or Hoare, and White and Brown, and Rouse, and Sangwine, and Black, and Blund or Blunt, are an innumerable force. Beard and Blackbeard are to the fore still, though Brownbeard is gone, and probably Bluebeard never was there. The Directory can show its Cheek, like any other fellow of forward disposition, and Joule is not far off. And although it has no Mouth, it possesses at least one Gumm, one Tooth, and two Tongues. “Tooth,” by the way, has been refusing some ecclesiastic dentistry lately; but it will need a good deal of tugging to get him out of the Directory. There is no Gumboil, I am glad to say, at present, but he may make his appearance any day, as he is known in other parts of England. There are eleven Notts to be seen, and two Notmans, whose progenitors were remarkable for their shorn heads. A man was said to have a not-head who presented this appearance, and in the old rolls was set down as Peter le Not, or William le Not. So although _Must_, and _Cant_, and _Shall_, and _Will_, look as if the Directory (they are all in it) had a strong will of its own, we must not argue the matter so far as _Nott_ is concerned. Looking at man’s extremities the feet, we again find that it is hard to decide whether the termination “foot” is of local or nickname origin. The Directory has all manner of feet: a Brownfoot, a Whitefoot, a Crowfoot, a Barefoot, a Proudfoot, a Lightfoot, and a Harefoot. Lightfoot has just footed it all the way to the episcopal palace of Durham. We may all, in congratulating the learned Professor, pray that by God’s aid he may be a _light_ unto the _feet_ of his clergy, and guide them in true and safe paths. Remembering too, his predecessor, the firm, yet “kindly Baring,” we might concoct an epigram of our own, and say, with many apologies to the coachman for the liberty we take,— Come, Lightfoot, mount, the ribbons take, When roads are downward on the brake Set not thy _foot_ too _lightly_, And though the reign of Baring’s o’er, Hold _bearing-rein_ as tightly. Or we might put another play on the name:— _Lightfoot_ has gone to Durham’s see: If name and mind in him agree, Of foes he’ll have not any; For then a lantern he will be To _light_ the _feet_ of many.