public career. I paused
for his answer with no little curiosity. Would it be one of the great
Ex-Presidents whose names were known to, all the world? Would it be
the silver-tongued orator of Kentucky or the "God-like" champion of the
Constitution, our New-England Jupiter Capitolinus? Who would it be?

"Take it altogether," he answered, very deliberately, "I should say
Colonel Elisha Williams was the most notable personage that I have met
with."

--Colonel Elisha Williams! And who might he be, forsooth? A gentleman of
singular distinction, you may be well assured, even though you are
not familiar with his name; but as I am not writing a biographical
dictionary, I shall leave it to my reader to find out who and what he
was.

--One would like to live long enough to witness certain things which
will no doubt come to pass by and by. I remember that when one of our
good kindhearted old millionnaires was growing very infirm, his limbs
failing him, and his trunk getting packed with the infirmities which
mean that one is bound on a long journey, he said very simply and
sweetly, "I don't care about living a great deal longer, but I should
like to live long enough to find out how much old (a many-millioned
fellow-citizen) is worth." And without committing myself on the
longevity-question, I confess I should like to live long enough to see a
few things happen that are like to come, sooner or later.

I want to hold the skull of Abraham in my hand. They will go through
the cave of Machpelah at Hebron, I feel sure, in the course of a few
generations at the furthest, and as Dr. Robinson knows of nothing
which should lead us to question the correctness of the tradition
which regards this as the place of sepulture of Abraham and the other
patriarchs, there is no reason why we may not find his mummied body in
perfect preservation, if he was embalmed after the Egyptian fashion. I
suppose the tomb of David will be explored by a commission in due time,
and I should like to see the phrenological developments of that great
king and divine singer and warm-blooded man. If, as seems probable, the
anthropological section of society manages to get round the curse that
protects the bones of Shakespeare, I should like to see the dome which
rounded itself over his imperial brain. Not that I am what is called a
phrenologist, but I am curious as to the physical developments of these
fellow-mortals of mine, and a little in want of a sensation.

I s