72 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



The traveler Kohl mentions a landlord in Kent Square, Liverpool, who 

 combined his restaurant with an emigrant boarding-house, and won 

 many wagers by his almost infallible faculty for recognizing the na- 

 tionality of his boarders : without asking them to speak, without taking 

 any cognizance of the peculiarities of their dress, he scrutinized their 

 features, and promptly announced the result of his observation. 



Dr. Gellmayer, a druggist of Troppau, in Austrian Silesia, had for 

 years the casting vote on every lunacy commission of his native prov- 

 ince. He distinguished between chronic and transient (" emotional ") 

 insanity, and recognized the former exclusively by physiognomic symp- 

 toms. "I could approximately describe that expression," says he, "by 

 comparing it to the peculiar look of a person who has forgotten some- 

 thing, and is trying in vain to recollect it. In the large subdivision 

 of misanthropic lunatics that look is combined with a certain peevish 

 furtiveness of the eye." When his colleagues wished to release a 

 doubtful patient, Dr. Gellmayer sometimes withheld his opinion, but 

 his averse decisions proved always correct. 



Could Spurzheim have deduced such verdicts from craniological 

 indications ? 



THE BKITISH LION. 



By W. BOYD DAWKINS. 



THE British Lion to be dealt with in the following pages is not 

 that of the heralds, nor is it the amiable, shy, rather tame animal 

 just now crouching down behind "the silver streak," pretending to 

 fear lest the foreigner should get at him unawares through a tunnel, 

 nor yet is it the ephemeral much-to-be-pitied creature of the drawing- 

 room. It is a lion, indeed, the king of beasts, the story of whose com- 

 ing into Britain is a part of the greater story of his sojourn in Euro]:>e, 

 that can not be told properly without discussing the ancient geography 

 and climate, or without dealing with some vexed points in historical 

 criticism. It is a story which begins in the remote geological past, 

 revealed by pickaxe and shovel, and ends, well within the frontier of 

 history, in the works of ancient Greek writers. 



The first view which we get of the lion in Britain in the geological 

 record is in the valley of the lower Thames, at Grays Thurrock and 

 Ilford in Essex, and at Crayford and Erith in Kent. The strata in 

 those places consist of loams, sands, and gravels swept down by the 

 Thames when it flowed at a height of at least seventy feet above its 

 present level, and swung in a series of bold curves from side to side in 

 the broad valley in which London stands, with a swifter current than 

 at the present time. They are all of the same general character, and 

 the brick-field at Crayford presents us with a most convenient stand- 



