[249]

THE

AMERICAN PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL

AND

MISCELLANY.

Vol. I. Philadelphia, May 1, 1839. No. 8.

ARTICLE I.
UTILITY OF PHRENOLOGY.

Phrenology is useful, because it forms the most correct basis of a system of mental philosophy.

In a previous number of this Journal (see Art. I, page 161), we entered somewhat at length upon the discussion of the above proposition. We there contrasted the merits of phrenology, as the true science of the mind, with other systems of mental philosophy, particularly Dugald Stewart’s. We pointed out several important defects which have hitherto existed in every system of mental science. We stated that all writers on the philosophy of the mind had committed the following mistakes. First, they leave out of view almost entirely all connection of the mind with the brain; and, secondly, they make their own individual consciousness the chief and principal source of information. And that, from these two radical defects in their premises, they have fallen into numerous errors. Among others, they do not recognise all the primitive faculties of the mind; and throughout all their writings, they confound primitive faculties of the mind with modes of activity.

Another radical defect in the systems of previous writers on mental science is, When they admit and treat of the elementary faculties of the mind, they consider them merely as existing by themselves, and disregard almost entirely the influence of combination.

This defect is similar to what would appear in that system of chemistry which should contain only a physical description of elements of matter, without saying any thing of the various substances which they form in combination. Thus the chemist might describe oxygen by itself. He might say it is a gas, colourless,[250] heavier than common air, a supporter of combustion and animal life, and many other things equally important, interesting, and true; and if such facts were all that is known of this substance, they should be received and appreciated according to their value. But how much is added to our knowledge, when we are informed that oxygen enters into combination with almost every other element of matter? That in one combination it forms the deadly poison; in another, the refreshing cordial. That united with nitrogen in one proportion, it constitutes the air we breathe; in another, it forms the nitrous oxyde, a substance producing the most remarkable effects of exhilaration; in a third proportion, the nitrous oxyde, which, coming in contact with our lungs, produces instant death; and in a fourth, one of the most powerful agents in nature. That with hydrogen it forms the valuable substance called water; and in other various combinations, acids so valuable in the arts and all the economy of civilised life.

Much likewise might be said, which would be interesting and true, of acids—of their general properties—their sour taste—their effects on vegetable blues, &c.; but how imperfect would be the description which should fail to give us not only the elements of which each is composed, but the nature of those substances which they form in compositions?

We have room only for a single example to illustrate the truth of our position. We select the mental power termed by Dr. Brown “anger;” in phrenology, “Combativeness.” In his description of this feeling, Dr. Brown is truly eloquent. His organ of Combativeness must have been large, or he could not have described the feeling with such vividness and accuracy.

“There is a principle in our mind,” says he, “which is to us like a constant protector; which may slumber, indeed, but which slumbers only at seasons when its vigilance would be useless; which awakes, therefore, at the first appearance of unjust intentions, and which becomes more watchful and more vigorous in proportion to the violence of the attack which it has to dread. What should we think of the providence of nature, if, when aggressions were made against the weak and unarmed, at a distance from the aid of others, there were instantly and uniformly, by the intervention of some wonder-working power, to rush into the hand of the defenceless a sword or other weapon of defence? And yet this would be but a feeble assistance, if compared with that which we receive from those simple emotions which Heaven has caused to rush, as it were, into our mind for repelling every attack. What would be a sword in the trembling hand of the infirm, of the aged—of him whose pusillanimous spirit shrinks at the very appearance not of danger merely, but even of arms by the use of[251] which danger might be averted, and to whom, consequently, the very sword which he scarcely knew how to grasp would be an additional cause of terror? The instant anger which arises, does more than many such weapons. It gives the spirit which knows how to make a weapon of every thing, or which itself without a weapon does what even a thunderbolt would be powerless to do in the shuddering grasp of a coward. When anger rises, fear is gone. There is no coward, for all are brave.”—Brown’s Lects. Hedge’s ed. vol. ii. p. 32.

This is a correct description, as far as it goes, of the feeling or emotion which may be termed instant anger, and which depends on Combativeness. But he confines himself to the simple emotion as it rises in view of provocation or insult, or any threatened injury. It is true he speaks of resentment being “too long protracted,” (which depends on Destructiveness, and this is another example of confounding primitive elements of the mind with each other,) and disproportionate to the offence; transferred from the guilty to the innocent; rising too soon, when it should be entirely suppressed; and as not confined to the individual aggrieved; but it is all in such a manner as to show conclusively that he thinks the subject exhausted with a description of what in common language is usually termed anger. But phrenology teaches that the element of the mind, which is at the foundation of anger, is “an active impulse exerting an influence on the mental constitution, independent of unjust attacks.” Dr. Brown has confined his description of the faculty to one mode of manifestation or activity, which is precisely analogous to the case we have supposed above from chemistry. But how imperfect is the description till we are told that this elementary feeling is the basis not only of anger or resentment at injury, but constitutes in every mind, according to its strength, the propensity to oppose; that it aids the good man to carry through his plans of benevolence, as well as the bad to execute his purposes of malice; that united with deficient intellect and weak moral sentiment, it makes the quarrelsome, vaunting boxer, while in a different combination it is an important element in the character of the unflinching philanthropist; that it not only gives boldness to the soldier on the field of battle, and fills with indignation the mind of an injured person, but imparts energy to the messenger of peace, and even enables gentle and virtuous woman better to fulfil the important duties of her station. We want to know what is that element of mind which is the basis of anger, and then the influence of this element in all its varieties of combination.

We are not aware that this representation is in the least open to the charge of exaggeration. Nor is the defect of which we speak confined to the system of Dr. Brown. It extends to all the systems of[252] the old philosophers, and almost to every part of those systems; nor could their principles of investigation and the data they had at command, or which they would use, furnish any remedy. If they went to the extent of their powers or their data, we should not complain; and yet if there are additional helps or data, why should we not employ them?

There is one more topic connected with this part of the subject upon which we would remark, viz. the nomenclature of phrenology. We cannot better introduce what we have to say, than by quoting the language of Dr. Whately, published in the second number of this Journal, page 47.

“I am convinced that, even if all connection of the brain with the mind were regarded not merely as doubtful, but as a perfect chimera, still the treatises of many phrenological writers, especially yours,” (Mr. Combe’s,) “would be of great value, from their employing a metaphysical nomenclature far more accurate, logical, and convenient, than Locke, Stewart, and other writers of their schools.”

Higher authority on this subject than Dr. Whately could not be cited. But the testimony of many persons of high authority might be quoted. Even the opponents of phrenology will express their admiration of its classification and nomenclature; and that, too, while they profess entire unbelief in the truth of the system, not reflecting that this excellency is an important argument in favour of its truth. Simplicity and clearness are only attributes of truth; and the principle is without exception, that of two systems, that which is most simple and clear is most accordant with truth. Such ever has, and ever will be, the verdict of mankind.

Without claiming perfection for phrenology in regard to classification and nomenclature, we think its advantages in this respect to mental science will be incalculable. Every writer on metaphysics usually tills some scores of pages on the importance of being precise in the use of language, and the danger of employing terms in a loose and careless manner; and no one who looks at the history of metaphysical science will consider such cautions as unnecessary. One half or three fourths of the controversies which have taken place in reference to the philosophy of the mind, have doubtless arisen from a misunderstanding of terms. This is true not only in regard to subjects purely metaphysical, but many controversial treatises on religious doctrines would never have been inflicted on the world, had the parties understood each other. We do not claim for a knowledge of phrenology the quality of a sovereign universal remedy for those evils. There are many subjects of controversy not directly connected with the science; and difference of opinion as often arises from difference[253] of feeling as from difference in intellectual apprehension. Even phrenologists, equally well versed in the principles of their science, will sometimes have different views. But with them, controversies and discussions do not arise from a misunderstanding of language. Although there is still terra incognita within the limits of the system, and many indefinite points, some of which probably never will be settled in our mortal state, yet the harmony of phrenologists on the science of the mind is scarcely surpassed by that of other philosophers on the science of matter; and even where only a partial acquaintance with the science is possessed, such is the clearness of its classification and the definitions of its terms, that misunderstanding in relation to subjects legitimately involving such language is almost necessarily excluded from minds of ordinary discipline and capacity.

We entirely accord with the opinion of Dr. Whately, that if the science were regarded “as a perfect chimera,” still the “employing a metaphysical nomenclature,” to which it has given rise, “would be of great value.”

ARTICLE II.
REMARKS UPON THE SCRIPTURE DOCTRINE OF REGENERATION.

We have waited with some little impatience for some time past, to see an article upon the philosophy of regeneration, based upon views in harmony with Scripture and the phrenological philosophy of the human mind. The third article in the first number of this Journal is very correct, as far as it goes, but cannot be considered as taking up the subject at the foundation. The truth is, the subject is one belonging to the clerical profession, and to some able divine who is heartily convinced of the truth of phrenology. To do justice to the subject, in all its length and breadth, its height and its depth, will require the hand of a master: and however well the work should be accomplished, it would be certain to meet with opposition from the ignorance, prejudice, and bigotry of some. This has doubtless been foreseen by those best qualified to enter upon the task, and the public mind has been left in the dark; and those who would seize a true mental philosophy as a pearl of great price, have been frightened from going out after it, because there was a “lion in their way.” But the subject cannot long remain in this state; things are coming to a crisis; the public will embrace phrenology, and trust to their own sagacity and comprehension to reconcile it with religious truth. If phrenologists and[254] divines neglect to settle where the boundary lines are in the disputed territory, infidel trespassers will commit depredations. It is with a view to call attention to the subject rather than with any expectation of doing it justice, that we have resolved to prepare the present article.

That our readers may be emboldened to approach the subject, we beg of them to bear in mind that all truth, whether religious or scientific, historical or prophetical—whether rational or miraculous—when fully and rightly known and comprehended, must, from the nature of things, and the character of the Great Author of all truth, be consistent with itself.

Whenever, therefore, we see apparent inconsistency, we may rest assured we do not fully understand the whole truth; and that the reason is to be found either in our own ignorance, prejudice, or incapacity. There are indeed many truths wholly beyond human comprehension; and a miracle is nothing but a manifestation of power by the Almighty upon principles perfectly consistent with all his laws, but of which man, from his limited capacity, is unable to see the consistency.

We would never stifle enquiry short of the utmost limit of human capacity to pursue it; believing that when short and partial views of truth give wrong impressions, it is better to enlarge and perfect the view, so far as we are enabled to do, than to attempt to withdraw the mind, and suppress enquiry. This we think is especially correct in relation to all those truths which are so important to us, as are those which explain our character, condition, and future destiny.

Man is the only being on the face of the earth capable of being religious; or, in other words, he is the only being endowed with faculties whose functions are in relation to religious truths and to objects of religious worship. He is the only being whose faculties enable him to conceive of and worship the Author of his own existence. What a glorious distinction! and how little do most people seem to realise it! And on this glorious truth what additional light has been thrown by the discovery and analysis of the mental organs—by the demonstration that man possesses organs more numerous and of more exalted functions than belong to any other portion of his animal creation!

The faculties thus peculiar to man, and more especially connected with the religious character of man, are not, however, exclusively so. They have another range of functional relation and action. These two ranges of functional relation we will denominate, for the sake of perspicuity, the one religious and the other secular. By way of indulging in range of expression, and using language acceptable to[255] several classes of Christians, we may occasionally speak of the one as sanctified or evangelical, and the other worldly or temporal. The faculties which come under this class, are those termed by phrenologists the higher sentiments. They are more particularly those denominated Reverence, Hope, Marvellousness, Ideality, Benevolence, and Conscientiousness. Some of these are more particularly connected with the religious character than others. This is the case with the three first named. They seem to be the earliest, deepest, and most abundant fountains of religious feeling. The others fall into a course of religious manifestation, and give consistency of life and practical goodness to what would otherwise end in mere worship, faith, and expectation. When the character is thoroughly and consistently religious—when religious principle has become, like a piece of leaven, operative until it has leavened the whole—then, indeed, all the faculties may be said in some sort to manifest a religious function. It is then that the propensities act in subordination to, and in harmony with, the higher sentiments while those sentiments take a religious direction. The higher sentiments may predominate over the propensities in the ordinary life and conversation of the merely moral man. Such a man may be honest, benevolent, respectable, and upright, and have his propensities in subjection. He may not only be punctual in attendance on divine worship, and unite in the services with some degree of attention and feeling, but he may even erect the domestic altar, and worship morning and evening, (because all this may be true with an individual without a just charge of hypocrisy,) and yet the individual may have no prevailing, predominating, or supreme love to God. This is the case with many persons who have been blessed with favourable organisations and education combined. But this is not that kind of control of the higher sentiments which characterises the converted and thoroughly religious man. A thoroughly religious man does all things as in the presence of God, and in obedience to his will; his thoughts are habitually upon divine things. We do not say of such an individual, that he has any more or other faculties than the irreligious and profane individual. Were it so, a religious man would be either something more than a man, or the irreligious would be something less. No, blessed be God, the vilest wretch that lives has all the primitive faculties necessary to enable him to feel and appreciate religious truth. We shall show by and by that what is called the new principle, which takes place, and which guides and animates the will of the religious man, is not a new faculty.

We have now, as we trust, explained satisfactorily, according to the phrenological philosophy of the mind, what the state of the[256] religious and the moral or irreligious is. The difference between them is now very apparent. It is easily seen that this difference is very great. It is not a difference of being, or existence, or entity. It is not the difference between one that is active and one that is inactive. They are both progressive; they both use the same faculties. They are both travellers to eternity; but they go different roads. They follow the direction of different leaders; they think and talk of different subjects. They have different anticipations: one looks to a guide, and moves forward in the broad effulgent light of divine truth; the other endeavours to find his own way in the dark, and relies upon his own unaided sagacity. One looks forward to the end of the journey of life as the point whence open to his boundless view the glories of another and brighter world; the other feels himself at best but obliged to make a leap in the dark.

So recent is the science of phrenology, and so few are the religious minds who have thoroughly examined it in all its bearings, and more especially its religious bearings, that we feel constrained to detain our readers to explain some few of the laws which govern the functional activity of the faculties in general, and also to describe the functions of several of the faculties of the religious sentiments.

1. It is a law of the manifestation of the faculties in general, that the larger the organ the greater is its tendency to vigorous action under excitement, and the greater its tendency to spontaneity.

2. When the organs of the so called religious sentiments are large, other things being equal, they are most likely to manifest their peculiarly religious function.

3. The objects of religion are so much more elevated and vast than any of the objects of mere time and sense, that they give a much more intense and powerful excitement and exercise to the faculties, especially of persons of vigorous intellect and cultivated minds. The low, groveling, sensual, and ignorant, do not so easily realise things of a spiritual nature. Hence persons with large and active organs of the higher sentiments, especially of Reverence, Marvellousness, Hope, and Ideality, find no where but in religion full satisfaction to their aspirations. They seem, as Dr. Spurzheim once remarked of such an individual, “not made for this world.” The objects which engross the minds of the world around them, appear “poor, stale, and unprofitable.” They literally go through the world as pilgrims and strangers. In such, the Christian character is incomplete; they especially need benevolence to interest them in their fellow-mortals, and to exert their energies in the glorious employment of doing good.

Our attentive readers will at once anticipate the remark, that those[257] persons who are not converted, in whom the organs of the higher sentiments are large, other things being equal, are more susceptible of religious impressions than those who have small organs of the higher sentiments and large propensities. Does not observation of facts go to prove its truth? and is it not at least tacitly admitted by many? Indeed, this great truth has been too little known and appreciated by religious teachers, and especially in the selection of mission stations. The organisations of the inhabitants of the Sandwich Islands, and of some parts of Asia, are far more favourable to the reception of Christianity than are those of many other portions of the heathen world. But this is a subject to which we can only allude now; at some future day we hope to give it a full consideration.

We will add, for the benefit of those who have not made themselves acquainted with the leading principles of our science, that it is by means of intellectual organs that the affective faculties are all brought into relation with their objects. Hence they may be said to be in a measure the causes of excitement to such of the affective faculties, as are interested by the objects contemplated. The intellectual organs may be spontaneously active, and conjure up scenes which excite the feelings; or they may be acted upon by external objects or by other minds. We may therefore bring our feelings into a high state of excitement merely by the recollection of an exciting scene.

Reverence.—It is not easy to give a brief analysis of this sentiment. We think, however, it is constituted to be excited to action by whatever is perceived by intellect, or believed by Marvellousness to possess the quality of greatness or superior power, whether physical, moral, or intellectual. Many of the objects of respect in society are conventional. The vast works of nature excite the feeling strongly; so also do the majestic works of art, as shown in the temples erected to the Most High. Who would not feel more reverence in going up to worship in a vast temple than when seated in a hovel? None better understood how to excite the feeling of reverence than the ancient Egyptians. In them, as also in the ancient Jews, the organ must have been exceedingly developed.

2. But when the mind contemplates the Deity in all his wonderful attributes—the power which, with a word, could create a universe of worlds, and by whose wisdom all things are governed, and whose mercy, goodness, and justice, are past conception—how much greater is the excitement to the feeling of reverence! How different, too, is the emotion! It is more elevated, pure, and rapturous. When, too, the mind brings to its contemplation the wonderful dealings of the Almighty with his dependent erring creatures, as exhibited in his[258] providences, his plan of redemption, and the influence of the Holy Spirit, our reverence scarcely knows bounds.

Marvellousness next claims our attention. 1, The simple secular function of this faculty is belief; the degree, kind, and conclusiveness of the evidence, are no part of its function. We may believe on mere authority. We may believe because it is rational, consistent, or agreeable to experience. Without this sentiment, we should scarcely believe the evidence of our senses, and perhaps we might say nothing would appear to be evident. The every day occasions for the exercise of this faculty are numerous. When large, it often becomes too active, and is apt to render persons weakly credulous. It also leads to believe in the wonderful, the spiritual, the improbable, the unnatural. 2, Its religious function is manifested in our belief in the existence and attributes of God—his revelation to man; the Saviour and his miracles—his resurrection and ascension; in the Holy Spirit and his influence on the heart, &c. How infinitely greater are these objects of belief than those of a secular kind! Immortality is spread before the eye of faith in brighter worlds above.

Hope is constantly active in reference, first, to the immediate future. We hope all things, and are carried along by this feeling through dangers innumerable, until we at last drop into the grave. Had hope no ken beyond the grave, all would be dreary; but secondly, this feeling, in its religious function, brings to view a happy eternity, where all is joy, peace, love, and praise. How different, and how much more exciting, is the hope which dwells on eternity than that which has reference to time!

We must remark here, that in the doctrines of phrenology there is nothing which can be construed to aid or oppose the peculiarly sectarian views of Christians. All those who disbelieve in the doctrine of the Trinity, will not have the same views of regeneration as those who believe in it. They will not believe in the agency of the Holy Spirit; but they will believe in a change of heart from the use of purely human means, and those will be governed by precisely the same laws in both views of the subject. We will therefore attempt to give what will be called the evangelical view of conversion, and leave it for persons of different views to account for the power which produces this change in their own way.

The first inquiry is this, What are the degrees of activity among the faculties as governed by the ordinary laws of exercise?

[259]

1. Thus some of the faculties, especially those termed religious, are brought into a very great degree of activity. This arises from the great extent and importance of the objects with which they are brought into relation.

2. The propensities in general, and Self-esteem and Approbativeness in particular, are deprived of their ordinary stimulus, and for a time become in a measure paralysed; as self, and the objects which excite the propensities, appear much diminished by contrast. To some, the contrast appears so great that they feel humbled as in the dust.

3. By little and little the higher sentiments become accustomed to this newly acquired higher degree of activity, and spontaneously range in their newly acquired world of objects. Every thing is now viewed as in the light of eternity. Man is now not only known, but felt to be an immortal being with a soul of uncounted worth. There is often a degree of exaltation of the feelings, and an increased mental power, which greatly surprises those who knew them in their former state. This appears in their deep insight into divine things, and in their exalted devotional exercises.

4. As the religious sentiments become more and more evangelized, or, in other words, as growth in grace progresses, they acquire an habitual, an uncontested ascendency over the propensities, and take the religious lead of their newly acquired masters.

In all this change, great, thorough, radical, and abiding as it really is, we recognise only the operation of the same general laws which characterise all great changes in mental character. The physical organs are affected powerfully; and the emotions are only in exact proportion to the felt importance of their objects. If exerted too much at one time, or too frequently for the healthy endurance of the cerebral organs, inflammation follows, and, with it, religious mania.

Next, inasmuch as different minds are very differently constituted, so are they differently affected by the actual process of conversion to a holy life. We shall be better understood, when we say that the temperament, age, education, intellectual and affective faculties, &c., all have an influence in relation to the manner in which their minds will be brought to the realisation of religious truth, and to experience its sanctifying efficacy. Hence it is of immense importance, that those whose office it is to bring religious truth to bear upon the minds of their fellow-men, should understand the peculiar nature of the minds on which they are to exert their action. In short, they should understand phrenology familiarly and practically, and should apply it daily to their fellow-men. We will put one or two cases. If, for instance, Conscientiousness be a strong faculty in an individual, with Cautiousness also large, and at the same time he has gone on[260] for many years in a careless worldly course of unbelief, the religious teacher would be likely to bring vividly to his mind that searching attribute of the Almighty, viz. his justice, which cannot look upon sin but with abhorrence. He would point out the purity of heaven, and contrast it with the impurity of a world lying in wretchedness, and depict the nature, desert, and awfulness of sin, &c. &c. In this way he would probably excite remorse and apprehension. But if the individual have respectable reasoning powers, he should be impressed with the utter hopelessness of entering Heaven while remaining in his sins. He cannot fail to see at once, that Heaven is no place for him, until he becomes fit for its society. The importance of things connected with religion, should be clearly set forth and contrasted with the temporary, fleeting, unsatisfactory things of this world.

We may reasonably expect, that labours of this kind rendered discreetly, prayerfully, and in faith, will be availing through the influences of the Holy Spirit.

We would here remark, that we should never judge of the genuineness of a conversion by any special, infallible process the individual may have gone through. It may have been a slow, gradual process, as would be likely to be the case of a naturally finely organised young person, whose moral and religious education had been well conducted; or it may be quiet or unobserved, as in an individual of a large organ of Reverence, and the higher sentiments generally, but of a sluggish temperament. It may have been violent, overwhelming, and attended by a remarkable experience—as the seeing of visions, &c.—if the individual have been of an ardent temperament, and with large perceptive organs and large Marvellousness.

Equally diverse will be the growth in grace of different individuals. Some will be almost like ground by the way side, some like stony places, some like good ground covered with thorns, and some still like good ground. Aside from peculiarities of individual character, external circumstances, whether favourable or otherwise, may exert a very great degree of influence. They may be like the genial influences of a summer’s sun after refreshing showers, or they may be as the chills of the winter frost.

Equally diverse will be the ultimately formed Christian character of different individuals. But all who are truly pious, will show some indubitable signs of it in their subsequent life and character; “By their fruits ye shall know them.” Whether they have the same mind which was in Jesus in its general cast; whether they be changed in the general spirit and temper of the mind; whether they have love to, and faith in, Christ, meekness, benevolence, sincerity, tenderness, simplicity of life, love to the brethren, &c.

[261]

The means that are rendered effectual in regeneration by the agency of the Holy Spirit are equally diverse. But your next enquiry is, how do we know that the Holy Spirit has any agency in the conversion of sinners? We answer, we only know by the Scriptures that He is the agent. The point is not strictly susceptible of any other proof. But this is certain, that the agency must be one beyond our own; no one could convert himself. We know, too, that persons who have resisted all the influence of a pious education, cogent preaching, example, the ordinary and extraordinary providences of God, &c., have, when alone, and without any apparent external influence, been suddenly brought to feel the great power and efficacy of religion. All must therefore acknowledge the influence to be mysterious. It would indeed be difficult, as we believe, to account for revivals wholly from natural causes. Still, however, this point rests upon Scripture; and phrenology certainly contributes nothing to render the Scripture doctrine less easy of belief.

It is proper to notice here, that when conversions appear mysterious, or when sudden and in advanced life, they are almost miraculous. It is not the ordinary method, in which the mind is prepared for the hearty reception of divine truth. The new principle introduced into the mind is, as we before said, no new faculty. The expression is at best obscure, and calculated to produce erroneous impressions. In one of our beautiful hymns it is thus expressed—

Here the new principle, which is otherwise expressed as love to God, is no other than this. The higher sentiments are excited into predominating activity, and led to contemplate with love and gratitude the government of God and the wonderful love, revealed in the great work of redemption of fallen men, a work in which he now feels himself especially interested. It is a change of the balance and direction of the faculties. They have seized hold of new things, which are now regarded as all important; but before they were looked upon with indifference. In relation to the mental faculties, it is not a new principle, but a new administration, produced by a change of majority. Hence the mental decisions are different. The actions spring from different motives—from a prevailing love to God, and obedience to his will.

[262]

In thus far speaking of conversion, we have shown what the Holy Spirit does not do, rather than what He does. We have done this to narrow down the field of mystery to its due limits, and to impress our readers with the necessity and importance of understanding and applying the true principles of mind in relation to religious action, as well as to education and self-culture. Having done this, we believe we have gone the full extent to which reason can go. We must look to revelation, and that alone, for whatever further light is obtained on this subject. In doing so, we are confident the reader will find nothing inconsistent with our views. What is not explained in revelation is known only to the Almighty, and is therefore a mystery past finding out.

The great laws which regulate the growth, exercise, and rest of the organs, and the force of the principle of habit or repetition, all go to show the following propositions to be eminently true and of immense importance.

1. That it is unphrenological, as well as unsafe and presumptuous, to allow children to grow up without early, constant, and judicious religious instruction and example. Where these are neglected, a sudden change may come over the person late in life; but this is hardly to be expected. How much better to commence and continue in the right course, than to go on wrong for years, trusting to a miracle to set us right. When to do so, we must turn quite round, and, as it were, to go back and begin anew!

2. That religion does not consist in belief merely, and that the work of grace requires long training of the faculties to give them strength, stability, habit, and harmonious action, so that the person will be constantly in the easy, delightful exercise of the Christian graces. One of this cast and training, where organisation favours its strong and healthy development, will show by his life and conversation that his religion not only sets well upon him, but is a part of him and pervades him throughout. It will beam forth upon his countenance, his gestures, his gait, his subdued, simple, and kind manners. His habitual obedience as a dutiful child of his heavenly Father, will show itself in his appointments, promises, and engagements. “With the blessing of God,” “With divine permission,” &c. will habitually be his language. It will show itself in his crosses, his self-denials, his labours of love, and by the ejaculation, “Thy will be done,” &c.; his moderation in relation to the objects of this world; his longing after immortality; his devotional habits, &c.

When we commenced our article, we had intended to have cited Scripture to show the harmony of all the above views with it; but we feel confident that our views will so readily call to mind all those[263] passages of Scripture which harmonise with them, that it would be in a measure unnecessary. Besides, we did not promise to attempt a full view of the subject, but rather to embolden others to do so. We should delight to see a small work, written on the subject. It would be the vade mecum of all those who exert themselves in the cause of religious education, and the dissemination of Christian truth.

S. J.

ARTICLE III.
ON DUELLING.

To the Editor of the American Phrenological Journal.

Having examined the heads of several gentlemen, since I have been in the southern states, who have fought duels, I have been struck with the fact, that most of them have Combativeness moderately developed, Cautiousness large, and Approbativeness very large. This has led me to reflect upon the principles in our nature which instigate and keep up the practice of duelling.

Duelling is a pretended display of courage, personal prowess, or bravery, in defence of one’s character and honour. But it strikes me that, on phrenological principles, with such an organisation as I have alluded to, a man can be neither truly brave nor courageous, natural fear or actual cowardice being the more legitimate result of such a conformation. Hence it would follow, if we are permitted to take the cases alluded to as proper data from which to reason, that the fighting of duels is no test of courage at all; but rather the result of fear, or (as I shall hereafter show) they generally evince a want of moral courage in those who engage in them; and this view, if I mistake not, exactly corresponds with the popular notion upon this subject. But suppose they did display courage; what then? What is this boasted courage, of which we hear so much?

Courage may be divided into two kinds—physical and moral. The former, when analysed, will be found to consist mainly in the exercise of Combativeness; and this is one of the lower propensities, common to man and brute. Of course, then, physical courage is a low passion; and one that is often displayed in the bull-dog or game-cock far more powerfully than in the most gallant knight that ever shivered a lance, or the most renowned hero that ever waded to the temple of fame through fields of carnage and blood. But moral courage, which is made up of Combativeness, Firmness, Self-esteem,[264] and the higher sentiments, and which enables us to go boldly forward in our own integrity and strength, and on all occasions support the right, and do whatever Conscientiousness, Benevolence, affection, and the reasoning faculties dictate, is an exalted feeling—a noble sentiment—and none can show too much of it; for, since it cannot be exercised but in a worthy cause, it is incapable of being perverted or abused.

The manifestation of physical courage is proper when exerted in defence of our natural rights; but is very liable to be abused, and when misdirected, instead of its being a virtue, it becomes one of the worst of vices. Man is not the natural enemy of man; and we live in a community which professes to be regulated by wholesome laws. Therefore, when one man voluntarily turns this instrument of defence against his fellow-man, or exercises it improperly upon a brute, he tramples upon the laws, and is justly held amenable and punishable. Such a manifestation of Combativeness or courage is a plain perversion of a naturally good faculty, and becomes odious and sinful; and such I cannot but conceive to be the kind of manifestation of this feeling which generally takes place in duelling.

“But,” says the advocate of duelling, “must I submit, then, when I am insulted, to be disgraced?” Certainly not, sir; but, in order to preserve your character from infamy, you should be careful not to employ means which, instead of rescuing it, actually adds to its degradation; or, in other words, in order to preserve your honour, you should not resort to means really dishonourable.

But with the view to appreciate the weight of this subject, I have endeavoured to bring it home to myself, and consider what reply I would make in case I should be challenged. In our country, where we have no Court of Honour, (an institution, by the way, which I think ought to be set up,) I would say to the challenger, “Sir, if you think yourself injured or insulted beyond the redress of civil laws, I am willing to submit the case to gentlemen of honourable standing, and settle it according to their decision.” If he would not listen to this proposal, but still insisted on fighting, I would say to him, “Sir, neither my conscience nor my judgment will allow me to be so fool-hardy as to throw my life away by meeting a man who seeks my blood, nor will my humanity nor my moral feelings allow me to imbrue my hands in the blood of a fellow-being.”

Should he then call me a coward, I would reply, “Sir, you show no proof of it. I hold that fighting duels is more frequently an evidence of a want of moral courage, than a proof of physical courage. If, by my course, I display no proof of the latter, I certainly do of the former, by thus braving public opinion on a point[265] which I consider wrong. But suppose you did thus prove my want of physical courage, you only show that my intellectual and moral faculties are stronger than my brute propensities; and is this a disgrace to a rational being?” Let the advocates of this practice say what they will in vindication of it, and attempt to justify it on the ground of its expediency, necessity, &c., the fact is, all their reasonings upon the subject are shallow, sophistical, and disgraceful in a civilised, or more especially Christian community.

The only proper grounds on which to meet the question, are its reasonableness and its justice. Is it rational? is it right? In a barbarous community, where might is held as the only grounds of right, the doctrine might meet with favour; but among us, who reject such a principle of action, and who profess to be governed by established laws, it is evidently irrational; nay, a gross neglect of duty in those who profess to administer our laws, to permit individuals thus to set them at defiance, and under the excitement of passion execute vengeance on each other. But, on the scope of right, the question does not admit of debate. Not only do the principles of our holy religion, in the broadest and most direct terms, condemn all such practices as sinful, but every moral principle of our nature revolts at them. True, were we to suppress the influence of our moral sentiments, and exercise our reasoning faculties in connection with our selfish propensities only, we might say, “injury for injury,” “blow for blow;” but even then we could not say, “death for insult,” for there is no comparison between the two. An insult is limited in its consequence to time; death reaches to eternity. But phrenology teaches us, that we have no right to settle a question of this nature, without exercising our reasoning faculties in connection with the moral sentiments; and I defy any one to prove that the latter ever sanctioned duelling. Nothing can be clearer than that to decline a challenge would be an act of moral courage, and as much more honourable than to accept, as the moral feelings are above the animal instincts. If, therefore, any one choose to differ with me in opinion upon this point, he is welcome to do so, and I envy him not his privilege, for I hold mine to be the legitimate conclusion of a rational and moral view of the subject; ergo, the opposite conclusion must spring from the predominance of the brute propensities acting in concert with the intellect.

Again; I am aware that it will be urged, as the most specious argument in favour of duelling, that, in this matter, we are bound to respect public opinion. But it has been clearly shown, that public opinion (or that part of it which still advocates this practice) is unquestionably wrong on this subject; and in this enlightened age,[266] every honest man, and every brave man, is bound to resist public opinion in all matters that interfere with humanity, justice, and moral obligation, and thus set forth the noble example of correcting public opinion. And more especially is it the prerogative of phrenology, above all other sciences, (inasmuch as it enables us clearly to analyse the passions and motives of men,) to wield its giant strength, against those vices which neither civilisation nor Christianity has yet been able to subdue.

Public opinion, forsooth! And what is public opinion? What but an evanescent and a capricious thing—a fickle dame, ever varying, ever changing—that raises a man a hero and a demi-god to-day, and tramples him in the dust as a base wretch and outcast to-morrow? Look at the Protean aspects of public opinion in the different ages of the world, and among the different nations of the earth. Look at public opinion in the different epochs of the Roman empire, and of the Grecian states. Behold its changes. Look at it under the mighty Egyptian, Babylonian, Assyrian, Medean, and Persian dynasties. Compare public opinion at the present day in China, with that in the United States. Compare it among our rude Saxon forefathers, with that which prevailed in the days of William the Conqueror. And in English society, what mighty changes has it not undergone since the days of Henry the Eighth. Look at the changes produced on public opinion by a Solon, a Zoroaster, a Pythagoras, a Homer, a Socrates, or a Plato; an Alexander, a Cæsar, or an Alfred. See the tyrant bow its neck to the mild, but sublime influence of the Gospel, wherever it has been introduced. See it bend again before the influence of philosophy, science, and the arts, and, more especially, before improvements in our political and civil codes. And are we to be told, then, that, amid the full glare of light and knowledge which beams upon us, we are passively and submissively to bow to this capricious tyrant, and not dare to raise our voices against its cruel and absurd edicts? No. Reason forbids it; morality forbids it; Heaven forbids it. Let the light of science and morality, then, clear the mist from our eyes; and let us go on to refine and correct public opinion, until every vestige of barbarism and superstition are expunged from our herald-roll. And what is duelling but a vestige of barbarism that has too long formed a foul blot upon our national escutcheon?

Mobile, March 12th, 1839.

[267]

ARTICLE IV.
REMARKS ON THE POSSIBILITY OF INCREASING THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE CEREBRAL ORGANS BY ADEQUATE EXERCISE OF THE MENTAL FACULTIES. By Andrew Combe, M. D.

(Continued from No. 6 of this Journal, page 191.)

The next enquiry, and one of not less moment, is to discover why the increase does not follow in every instance? and what are the conditions which favour it? Multitudes of the young, engaged in the same mental exercise, manifest no proportionate increase of power or organ; and yet, if the rule holds good in one instance, there must be causes for every exception, and to these I shall now direct a few remarks, but necessarily of a crude and imperfect kind.

The first impeding cause is one already alluded to. On looking at the analogous instance of muscular increase from muscular action, it will be granted at once that, in some constitutions, there is a much greater susceptibility of change than in others. In the nervous system, the same principle of the influence of the original type undoubtedly holds good; and while some are easily susceptible of mental impressions and cerebral improvement, others are the reverse. Here, then, is one ground of difference of result.

Another fact in regard to muscular development is, that while it is favoured by due exercise, it is prevented alike by insufficient and by excessive action, and that what constitutes due exercise to one, may be insufficient for another, and excessive for a third. From this follows the acknowledged axiom—That exercise ought to be adapted in kind and degree to the individual constitution, otherwise it will fail to increase either the muscles or the general strength. I have elsewhere[1] shown that the same law applies to the brain and nervous system, and that, if we act regardless of its existence, we inevitably fail in successfully attaining our object. From ignorance of physiology, however, on the part of teachers and parents, and ignorance of the connection subsisting between the brain and the mind, this law has been utterly neglected in practice. In our larger schools, accordingly, we have from one hundred to one hundred and fifty boys in each class, or from five hundred to six hundred in all, subjected to precisely the same amount of work, and to the same general management, in so far as the period of confinement and mental activity are concerned; and the individual powers and wants of each constitution are as little consulted, as if the whole were cast of the same material,[268] and the same mould—and the result is what we behold and lament. In some, the degree of mental exercise is adapted to their capability, and they improve; in others, it falls much short, and their powers languish from inaction; while in a third portion it goes as far beyond the limit, and their minds and organs are worn out and impaired.

Healthy vigour is another essential to healthy growth, whether of the brain or of the body; but, from general ignorance of physiology, this has been, and still is, equally disregarded in the treatment of the young. In our public schools, the whole pupils of a large class are set to the same task, and undergo precisely the same confinement and absence of wholesome bodily action. It matters not whether they be robust or weak, indolent or vivacious, fond of play or fond of books. It never occurs to us that what may be sport to one is a heavy burden to another; and that the length of confinement, and absence of food, which a robust boy can withstand, may seriously injure one of a weaker constitution. It is needless to add, that nothing can be less in accordance with the dictates of a sound physiology than the ordinary arrangements of our schools; and, judging from the very inadequate results with which so much labour is repaid, and the very indifferent health which attends it, it may be inferred, that no discipline can be less in accordance with the laws of nature, or less available as a means of improving the minds and brains of those who are subjected to it. The young, on account of their growing and rapid nutrition, stand doubly in need of a pure and bracing air, and of ample muscular exercise out of doors; and yet, so entirely is this condition disregarded in our plans of education, that in the winter the whole day is spent in the close and corrupted atmosphere of the school, and the exercise is restricted to little more than walking to and from it. It is in vain to think that the brain is not injured in its development, and the mind not weakened in its powers, by this neglect. The brain partakes in the general qualities of the constitution. If the body be imperfectly nourished and supported, the brain is weakened in common with the rest of the system, and the mind is retarded in its progress, and often impaired in vigour, by otherwise inadequate causes.

Another circumstance which tends in youth to impede the vigorous growth of the brain and impair its action, and which owes its existence equally to ignorance of the laws of physiology, is error in diet. No fact can be more certain, or, indeed, is more generally admitted, than that the young require wholesome nourishing food, in larger quantities and at shorter intervals than when arrived at maturity. Accordingly, undue abstinence is admitted to be very hurtful in early life. And yet, notwithstanding the abstract acknowledgment of the[269] fact, the practice of society is diametrically opposed to it, to the manifold injury of the young. The proper interval which ought to separate breakfast from dinner, because that at which vigorous appetite usually returns in healthy and active young people, is from four to five hours.[2] Beyond that time, waste goes on without any compensating supply, and exhaustion consequently follows, attended by weariness and a deteriorated state even of the digestive organs. So far are we, however, from conforming to the indications of nature in this respect, that the prevailing plan is, to make young people breakfast early, say at eight o’clock, that they may go to school in time; and, instead of giving them a good dinner, with an hour or two of relaxation, about four or five hours later, their lessons are considered more necessary than food, and while they are pushed on almost without interruption, dinner is postponed till eight or nine hours after breakfast, being at least three, and often five, hours after the time at which it is wanted by nature.

From much observation I am persuaded, not only that the growth and activity of the brain are impaired by this sad conduct, but that a great deal of the delicacy and bad health of the rising generation, and particularly a great deal of the increasing liability to dyspepsia which pervades society, is owing to the same preposterous departure from the laws of the Creator. It is no apology for the evil to say that it cannot be helped—that there is so much to be learned that the whole day must be given to it. When we become wiser, we shall discover that it is easier and pleasanter to learn in accordance with, than in opposition to, nature’s laws; and if we were once convinced of the fact, there would be no difficulty in altering the practice. We all admit that sleep is necessary, and that nature intended the night for repose; and, consequently, neither parent nor teacher thinks of setting his child to school in the night-time, however anxious he may be for its progress. And, in like manner, let society once be convinced that food at proper intervals is essential to the well-being of the young, and both time and opportunity will be found for giving it.

Another cause of failure in invigorating a faculty, and increasing an organ by its active exercise, seems to be an inadequate temperament. What is excitement to the faculties and brain of a person of a quick nervous or sanguine temperament, may prove utterly unexciting to the faculties and brain of one with a low apathetic lymphatic temperament; and, consequently, improvement in the faculty and organ may follow in the former, while no change on either will occur in the[270] latter. The susceptibility will thus vary according to the nature of the original constitution; and hence, in attempting to develope any mental power, we can expect to be successful only when we are certain that we have really the means of exciting and keeping up its activity. A mere passing stimulus will not suffice to increase nutrition and growth.

Perhaps, also, we sometimes fail from applying a wrong stimulant. In seeking to improve a faculty, common sense dictates that it should be exercised upon its most agreeable and perfect productions. Thus, in cultivating a taste for music, we ought to present to the faculty the most beautiful and harmonious music, because that is the best calculated to excite it to agreeable and sustained activity. Accordingly, such is the plan by which we cultivate the taste in communities. But when we take an individual who has naturally no great liking for music, but in whom it is desirable that the talent should be developed, we do not stimulate the faculty to healthful exercise by daily accustoming it to the perception and discrimination of fine sounds, but we set him or her to labour for hours every day in producing sounds, remarkable at first only for being so discordant and disagreeable as to make every one keep as far from their source as possible; and thus our aim is defeated, and the taste injured rather than improved. It is true, that by stoical perseverance some arrive ultimately at the power of producing sounds pleasing to their own ears; but it will be found that it is only then that their musical faculty begins to be improved, and that its activity is felt to be delightful. Many never arrive at that point, and, after years of ineffectual labour, give up the attempt in despair.

I do not mean by these remarks, that playing on an instrument should be taught merely by listening to good music. Playing is a mechanical exercise, calling other faculties into activity, and cannot be acquired without practice. Besides, playing is not music, but only the means by which it is produced; and, so far as regards the music alone, the enjoyment is quite as great whoever produces it, as if we ourselves did. Often, however, the mistake is committed of thinking that we are using the most effectual means to develope a taste for music, when we place the young person at an old piano to rattle out discordant sounds for several hours a day; and we are grieved and disappointed at the ultimate failure of an experiment which, in the very nature of things, could not possibly succeed. By assiduous practice on an instrument we exercise the mechanical faculties, and may thus develope their organs to an increased extent. But to produce the same effect on the faculty of Tune, we must stimulate it to sustained activity, by daily accustoming it to the hearing[271] of exquisite music, and by guiding the judgment to the appreciation of beauties. We may then hope to promote increased action and growth in its organ.

I believe that in regard to some of the other faculties we commit a similar mistake, and imagine that education fails to invigorate them and develope their organs, when, in fact, our endeavours have been wrongly directed, and could not be successful; but the present paper has run already to so great a length, that I must postpone any farther remarks on this part of the subject till another opportunity.

Before taking leave, however, I would again enforce the absolute necessity of physiological knowledge for the successful guidance of teachers and parents. If the size of the cerebral organs admits of being increased by judicious exercise, and impaired or retarded by mismanagement, it obviously becomes an indispensable qualification for those who undertake their right direction to possess an accurate acquaintance with the functions and laws of the animal economy; and it is rather strange that we should have gone on to the present day without such an obvious truth having been universally perceived and acted upon.

Having now shown, 1st, That judicious mental exercise promotes the development of the cerebral organs in youth; 2dly, That there is strong presumptive evidence in proof of the same effect taking place even in mature age; 3dly, That we are still little acquainted with other important physiological conditions which act powerfully in modifying the results of exercise; and 4thly, That the knowledge of these conditions would greatly extend the efficacy of moral and intellectual education, and multiply our means of advancing the moral welfare and happiness of the race; I do not require to add another word to induce phrenologists to collect additional evidence on all the doubtful points, and to prosecute the enquiry with persevering accuracy, and with a constant view to its important practical advantage.

We have selected the above article from the “Edinburgh Phrenological Journal” for the purpose of calling the attention of phrenologists in this country to the important principles which it contains. The article comes from the pen of a gentleman who probably understands the physiology of the brain, and its real functions, better than any other man living. It is unnecessary for us to dwell on the importance of correctly understanding the above principles, as connected with phrenology, and the desirableness of collecting additional evidence, in order to elucidate them, and show their numerous applications to the various duties and pursuits of life. We would therefore solicit for publication in this Journal, facts showing the positive[272] increase, either in size or activity, of any particular organ or organs; and also communications tending to illustrate and establish more fully the truth of the enquiries proposed by Dr. Combe, respecting the true physiological laws of the brain.—Ed.

ARTICLE V.
PHRENOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENTS AND CHARACTER OF WILLIAM MILLER, WHO WAS EXECUTED AT WILLIAMSPORT, PA., JULY 27TH, 1838, FOR THE MURDER OF SOLOMON HOFFMAN.

On the reception of the above letter, wishing to learn farther particulars, we addressed a line to the Hon. Ellis Lewis, presiding judge of the court at the trial of William Miller, to which we received the following reply:—

The above letters have been in our possession now for some months, and we had intended ere this, to have presented them in the pages of the Journal. But by this delay we have recently and very opportunely received, by a gentleman from Williamsport, the dying confession of William Miller. Whilst on the one hand we were surprised, in its perusal, to observe the striking coincidences between Mr. Fowler’s statements and the individual’s own confession of his private history, on the other we were shocked to read such a long series of youthful vice and crime. We doubt whether a similar instance can be found recorded in the annals of history. The facts in the case of this unfortunate young man involves many important principles in jurisprudence, education, morals, &c. &c.; but our present object is simply to present the facts in the case.

The general facts connected with the murder are contained in the letter of Judge Lewis. But as his confession relates the particulars more in detail, preceded by a continued series of vicious and criminal conduct for fifteen years, showing the gradual process by which he became so hardened and cruel, we are induced to present the entire confession, notwithstanding its length. It is undoubtedly similar in some respects to that of many others much older than Miller, yet less experienced in crime, who end their days in the prison or on the gallows. Though young in years, he had emphatically grown old in the school of vice. We earnestly request every reader to notice the following facts in his melancholy narrative, which undoubtedly prepared the way for the number and enormity of his crimes.

His mother died when he was quite young. He was subject to[280] little, if any, parental restraint and government; received, comparatively, no education, nor moral and religious instruction; early gave way to his “evil passions;” was greatly encouraged by bad associates; was not restrained by the ties of family affection, nor influenced much by any relations to friends and acquaintances, either in regard to his business or his character; first commenced stealing little things, then lying; persevered constantly in such offences for nearly fifteen years, till he finally committed robbery and murder. But it appears that he had planned several murders, and even that of his own brother, before the execution of his last fatal deed.

Let every reader observe, that Miller grew up with his intellectual faculties uneducated, his moral sentiments unenlightened, his domestic feelings but little exercised, and his selfish propensities and sentiments unrestrained. We need not say, that these facts involve important principles in the true physiology of the brain and the science of mind.

The facts in the confession should also be compared with the statements of Mr. Fowler’s letter. It is due to state, that Mr. F. has never seen this confession, nor the letter of Judge Lewis—that he knows nothing of the contents of either, and there is no reason to doubt his statement concerning his knowledge of Miller’s real character. A phrenologist will readily perceive that, from the data first taken by Mr. F., even a darker portrait might have been drawn on strict scientific principles, than what Mr. F.’s letter presents. We have italicised some parts of the confession which strikingly accord with the phrenological descriptions.

THE CONFESSION OF WILLIAM MILLER,
Who was convicted of the murder of Solomon Hoffman, and executed at Williamsport, Lycoming county, Penn., on the 27th of July, 1838; made in the presence of the sheriff and attending ministers, June 7, 1838.

I was born in York county, in the state of Pennsylvania, A. D. 1815. My mother died when I was eleven years of age. My natural disposition, from my earliest infancy, was grossly depraved. I seemed fatally bent on mischief, and had a relish for dark and secret crime; and never having received any religious education or instruction, (except from occasionally hearing the gospel preached,) my evil passions and malice of my nature grew with my growth, and strengthened with my years. Before my imprisonment, I had not learned any principles of religion or precepts of morality, by which I could discover the full deformity of my character, or the deep wickedness of my conduct. The after survey of my acts and conduct, and the review of my crimes, were scarcely ever attended, with a feeling of regret. I seemed too spell bound, in my evil to relent; and my conduct so accorded with my evil passions that[281] reflection was without remorse. I was greatly addicted to theft. But I stole not through want so much as through the gratification of my wicked disposition. This disposition was carried into action first when I was nine years of age. I then stole an half dollar from my father, and gave it to my mother. I told her I had found it. She believed me, and bought a handkerchief for me with it.

Some time after the death of my mother, my father and family removed from York county to Lycoming county, and resided in the Block-house settlement. I lived with the family there till I attained the age of nineteen years.

During my stay at the Block-house settlement, previously to learning a trade, I stole a pocket knife while at a religious meeting, held at the house of Mr. Knodle. I then became more bold, and having discovered where Samuel Hartman kept his money, I attempted to rob him, by breaking into his drawer; but in that I did not succeed. Soon after this, I was living a short time in the family of Mrs. Bastian, who then, and always, treated me with great kindness. I stole from her twenty-five cents.

I next went to the borough of York, for the purpose of acquiring a trade, and became an apprentice to Joseph Spangler, a cabinet maker of that place, with whom I continued two years. At York I fell into very bad company. I found there were others in the world, nearly, if not quite as bad as myself; and wickedness is greatly encouraged with countenance and company. We were frequently engaged in robbing orchards, stealing apples, peaches, &c.

The first winter I lived at York, I stole between four and five dollars from Mr. Spangler. I took it out of a small chest I found in his bed room. One of my shop-mates was blamed for it, but I now declare him innocent of the crime.

I frequently stole segars and tobacco from the store of George Small, in York, and gave them to my associates, who had previously requested me to do so.

After my apprenticeship was ended, I was employed as cabinet maker for a short time, by John Beck, in York. I stole from him, at different times, such articles as I needed to finish some furniture I was making for myself, such as paints, varnish, &c. I was strongly suspected for this; but I lied them out of it, and contended most strenuously that I had bought all the articles I used.

Shortly after this, I lived a short time with Jacob Lehr, in Freystown, near York. While there, a harvest frolic was held at Mrs. Smithmoyer’s. I knew that all of Daniel Louck’s family would be at the frolic; consequently, I went to his house, broke in through one of the windows, opened a desk with a key of my own, and took out a pocket book, as I then supposed, full of money. I then left the house as I entered it; and on my way home through the fields, I examined the pocket book, and found that it contained nothing but papers which I could not read. I threw the pocket book and papers into some bushes that grew in a field belonging to Mr. Diehl. All the money I got on that occasion was about one dollar and fifty cents in silver. I never heard that I was suspected of this theft.

About the same time of the above occurrence, I was working in harvest at Mr. Diehl’s, and I then stole two five dollar bank notes, which I saw lying on the porch of their house; I was never suspected for this, and never heard any enquiry made about it.

Shortly after this happened, I went again to Daniel Louck’s, and found that all the family were from home except three of the women. After[282] staying a short time, I lay down in the hall of the house, as it were, for the purpose of resting. After lying a short time, I discovered that the ladies had all gone out to take a walk in the garden. I then arose, and went to the same desk I had opened before. I also applied the key I had formerly used, opened the desk, and took out a pocket book containing fifty dollars in bank notes. Even this created no suspicion against me, that I know of. I also frequented the house of Mrs. Smithmoyer, in that neighbourhood, and stole from her cakes, confectionaries, and occasionally some small sums of money.

I returned in 183- to the Block-house settlement; my evil propensities increasing by former successful indulgence, and by being able to avoid suspicion, I commenced the cabinet making business for myself, at the house of Mrs. Bastian, with whom I had lived a short time before I went to York to acquire a trade. Mrs. Bastian’s residence is situated in the northern part of Lycoming county, at the foot of Laurel Hill, on the post road from Williamsport to Wellsborough. The country immediately around is composed of high and broken mountains, covered with thick and dark forests. The road often for great lengths without a house, and not very frequently traveled—generally as lonely as the pathway of a wilderness. I did not at first settle there for the purposes for which I afterwards saw it possessed so many advantages. But it very soon occurred to me, that I had chosen an excellent situation for robbery, theft, and murder, on which my mind was now fully bent.

I re-commenced my unfortunate career at the Block-house, by first stealing from Mrs. Bastian fifteen dollars, and frequently afterwards, such sums as I needed, to the amount of about five dollars more. I had the confidence of the family, and free access to every part of the house, which greatly facilitated my thefts. I was not suspected of these crimes until just before my last arrest, when some money was accidentally found in my pocket which was identified as a part of the money that had been taken. This induced them to suspect me strongly, but I denied it with great firmness and constancy to the last.

Some time in the fall of 1837, a drover (whose name I do not know) passing through the settlement, stopped for a short time at Mrs. Bastian’s house. At first sight, I supposed him to have a large amount of money, and immediately determined to murder him. For this purpose, before he could have time to pursue his journey, I hastened to the woods with an axe, and cut a large club, which I thought more suitable for the purpose, it being longer and more easily handled than the axe, and yet sufficiently large for the fatal execution. I then concealed myself close by the road he would pass, and not far from the scene of my last dread crime. I then waited, planning the manner of my attack. I expected he would be riding slowly and listlessly along, that I could spring upon him by surprise, knock him from his horse, and despatch him before he could make resistance. The drover was a large man and had an excellent horse. When I saw him coming, contrary to my expectation, he was riding rapidly, and consequently I could not have a good opportunity to aim a fatal blow. I then reflected that if I should miss him, or wound him slightly, he would be too strong for me, and I should be detected, and so I let him pass. But I felt disappointed, and wished very much to kill him, and if I thought I could have succeeded, would certainly have murdered him. I saw him afterwards pass through the settlement again, but I made no further attempt upon his life.

Not long after the failure of my design against the drover, Michael Knipe, a blacksmith, was traveling from the Block-house towards Lycoming creek, and called at Mrs. Bastian’s. He had previously[283] incurred my ill-will, and I felt some revengeful feelings towards him. I learned also that he had some money. I then determined to murder him, with the double motive of wreaking my vengeance and getting his money. For this purpose I proposed accompanying him on his way. We traveled amicably together until we came to the Six Mile Spring. There pretending that I was tired, and needed a staff to walk with, I went into the woods and cut a club, with which, at a proper place, I intended to despatch my fellow-traveler. But as we traveled on, still conversing amicably together, my murderous feelings began to subside a little, and I became more irresolute, until having passed the most appropriate places for so dark a deed, I finally gave over murdering him; and so we traveled, as far as I went with him, without any thing actually occurring to show that we were not the best friends.

The awful murder for which I am shortly to suffer the just penalty of the law, occurred on Thursday, the first day of February, 1838. Solomon Hoffman, a foot pedler, called at Mrs. Bastian’s the day previous to the murder, on his way to Lycoming creek. At that time I was particularly ill-tempered, on account of spoiling some furniture I was making. My shop stood near Mrs. Bastian’s house. The same afternoon that Hoffman arrived, I had occasion to go into the house, and saw him with his pack open, offering his goods for sale to the family. He asked me if I would buy any thing. I told him I could not. I then returned to my shop, and continued to work till supper time. I took my supper in company with Hoffman; and during supper it occurred to me to rob him, and I resolved to do so the next day. After supper we conversed a while in the bar-room, and then he accompanied me to my shop.

Hoffman continued at my shop for some time, and we conversed principally about my trade; I told him I could make sales enough, but could get no cash. He returned to the house again; I continued to work till late, and then went to the house also. We then soon retired; Hoffman and I slept in the same room. As I lay in bed, I thought of the difficulty of highway robbery escaping detection, and came to the conclusion that I had better attempt to kill him, although I had failed in two previous attempts. I did not sleep well, thinking about it; I felt no fear or horror of the crime, but I did not know how I could accomplish it. I woke up frequently during the night and thought on the subject, and my disposition to murder him still grew stronger, and in the morning I was fully resolved, if I could get an opportunity at all, I would kill him. I got up early in the morning, and Hoffman rose shortly after. I then got my axe and whet it. He asked me what I would do with the axe. I told him I was going to the woods to chop. He then asked me again if I would not buy some goods from him. On asking me this question, a plan instantly occurred to me of luring him into the woods and executing my fell purpose. So I told him I would not buy any goods at Bastian’s house, and gave him as a reason for not buying there, that I had borrowed some money from Bastian’s, that I had not repaid, and therefore did not wish them to know that I had any; but I told him, if it was not too cold for him to come to me in the woods where I would be chopping, I would buy from him there. Hoffman replied to this, that he would go on in the stage that day. I answered he might if he pleased. He then changed his determination, and he was only going to Blooming-grove, and would walk and stop with me where I was chopping.

Upon his saying this, I designated where on the road he would find me, and told him he could hear me chopping from that place, and so find precisely where I was; and having said this, I went off immediately towards the woods. After proceeding a short distance, I overtook[284] William Folkerson, of the Block-house settlement, driving a sled. He had started from Bastian’s a short time before I did. He asked me what I was going to do. I told him I was going to cut back-logs. We had no other conversation. This was the man whom I at first blamed with the murder, but who, I now solemnly declare, as I shall answer to God, is entirely innocent of it. And I sincerely hope he will forgive me for making this most false and dreadful charge. After Mr. Folkerson passed on, I went into the woods at the appointed place, and hunted round, but could find no trees to suit me. I then went down into the road expecting Hoffman. Then went back into the woods again, and found trees to suit. I cut one down, and was going to the second, when Hoffman came to me. He first addressed me, saying it is cold. I replied, tolerable. He then placed his pack on the log I had cut, opened his goods and handed them out. I walked up to him with my axe in my hand, and placed it down by the stump of the tree. I then selected from his goods a pair of gloves and a handkerchief, and told him I would take these. Then I suddenly became a little irresolute, and had almost told him I had no money; but in an instant I again resolved “kill him I will.” He then stood bending down looking at his goods. I stood partly behind him, and taking up the axe, gave him a hard blow with the pole on the back part of the head. He fell dead on his side the first blow. I stood and looked at him for a moment, and then gave him three or four more blows on the back and side of the head.

Then for a moment I looked up to heaven, and cried three times tolerably loud, Lord Jesus! what have I done!! I then took up Hoffman, and carried him a short distance and threw him behind a hemlock log. I was not satisfied with this, and took him up again and carried him further, and then removed him, and covered him in the place at which he was found. I tried to bury him, but could not succeed well, the ground was too hard. I intended, as soon as I could, to remove him from that and bury him securely. On the same day I hid his pack, only taking out a few articles for the present. I found on his person about one hundred dollars in money, and some other small articles, which I took then. The week after the murder, I went to Williamsport and bought some goods from Mr. Updegraff, which I paid for, or nearly all, with Hoffman’s money. I also, at the same time, bought some articles from Dr. Power, and paid him in the same way, and at the same time stole from him one dollar in money, and several chisels of different kinds. When I returned, Bastians asked me where I got the goods. I told them my father had given me money, and I also had bought goods on trust. In short, I stole and robbed every chance I could get, from my cradle to the day of my imprisonment.

I wish now further to declare, that no false evidence was delivered against me at my trial.

I am sincerely thankful to the officers of justice, ministers, and counsel, for their uniform kindness to me.

I now pray the world to forgive me the many injuries I have done, as I hope I will freely forgive all who have injured me.

APPENDIX.
TAKEN JUNE 30, 1838.

Before my emigration to York, when the family were all on the farm together, at a certain time which I cannot now recollect, I was then[285] about fourteen years old, and for the first time was tempted to murder. In the absence of my father, my brother Michael had the management of his father’s affairs, and the government of us children given to him. My brother was very strict with us and tried to make us do what was right, and on failing to do so, he would chastise us, which created a hatred in my breast towards him, and I determined in my own mind to destroy him. To carry out this determination, I gathered vegetable poison from trees, mixed it in soup, and intended fully to give it to him, and did so. My brother saw something in his soup that did not please him, took up his plate, went to the door, and threw it out, which saved him. I do now sincerely pray Almighty God to forgive me, and I humbly pray my brother to forgive me for attempting to make him suffer so awful a death. After my return from York, while living at Bastian’s, I went into the Block-house settlement on some business which I do not now recollect; on my way home, after doing my business, I stopped a while at John Howard’s barn, looking at some hands engaged in threshing with a machine. There came a stranger riding by—it immediately occurred to me that I might follow and murder him, if he was not a methodist preacher. I did follow him, and cut a good club to put my designs into execution. He took the new road, I took the old one, and intended to overtake him at the place where the two roads met; but when I came to the place where I expected to meet him, luckily for himself, he got past before I reached the place, and I never saw him more. The reason why I intended not to kill him if he was a preacher, was, that clergymen never have money, and are considered poor game. This was in the fall of the year.

After this, in the winter, I was in at Messrs. Benners’ store, in the Block-house settlement, and introduced some conversation with respect to some mahogany that I wanted to make some bureaus, and asked Elias Benner when he expected to go to Philadelphia. He told me he could not say to a certainty, but thought some time in the spring. I then asked him if he would let me know when he did go, that I would go as far as Williamsport, and there make arrangements with him to buy mahogany and other materials I wanted. This plan was laid by me to murder him on the way, as I knew he would have money; but, fortunately for himself, ere the time arrived, I committed the awful deed for which I must soon suffer, and the prison became my home, or he too might now be in eternity.

Not long after this, I had also intended to murder David Raker, for this reason; in a conversation with him at his house, he told me he was going to collect money; he did go, called at my shop—we had some conversation, which I do not now recollect; but while there, I forgot this determination, why or wherefore I cannot say, but sure I am it was no goodness in me. I also stole from Jacob Bastian, in the Block-house settlement, screws and nails, as I had opportunity when at work there. I also intended robbing my brother Daniel’s chest in Blooming-grove, cannot say whether I did or did not. The last winter I worked at York, I intended robbing Dr. Ness, went up stairs, rummaged his bureau, &c. but found no money.

I also went to rob my cousin, Daniel Seib, in York; he told me he had $400 in his chest; I went to the chest, opened and searched for the money, but found none, and was much disappointed.

I also intended robbing James Dinkle’s chest, but could not get it open. James Dinkle is a mulatto, and then lived with Daniel Louck, at Diehl’s mill, near York. About a month before I left my master, Mr. Spangler, I stole from him a hammer and a two foot rule, which I brought[286] to the Block-house with me. I also robbed my shop-mate, John Smith, of about fifty cents, which he left in the garden house and forgot. Soon as he came out I went in, found it, put it in my pocket. He missed it, soon went back, and it was gone. Soon as he returned he charged me with it; I lied him out of it; he then gave me clear, and blamed a black boy belonging to Mr. Kelly.

The first harvest, whilst reaping for Jacob Kindig, on Mr. Longenecker’s farm, in the evening I stole a sickle out of the field, whom it belonged to I do not know. I also stole a board from Daniel Wiser, in York, to make myself a chest.

I also stole from William Stine’s store, mint-sticks, and attempted to rob his money drawer, but found it locked.

Taken June 30, 1838, before Jacob Grafius, Reverends J. F. Abele and G. Schulze, as substantially correct, and whereunto I have subscribed my name or mark in their presence.

Witnesses present:

• Jacob Grafius,
• G. Schulze,
• John F. Abele.

X

William Miller.

his mark.

ARTICLE VI.
THE HEADS OF OUR GREAT MEN.[4]

We have just alighted upon a most curious and interesting document, and propose to base upon it a phrenological article.

The late lamented Dr. Lovell, Surgeon General of the U. S. Army, set himself about investigating the claims of phrenology in what seems to us the only fair and philosophical manner, viz. taking measurement of the heads of all persons of his acquaintance, particularly those who were distinguished for any talent.

[287]

Below is a paper drawn up by that gentleman and Dr. Brereton; a document of incontestable genuineness, giving the measurement of more than fifty distinguished individuals, among whom are Van Buren, Webster, Calhoun, Clay, Marshall, M’Duffie, John Quincy Adams, &c.

We insert the document entire, sure that it will be examined with care by all who are examining phrenology, and regarded with interest by general readers, who can thus place head by head our great men.

[288]

For the benefit of the uninitiated, we will explain the principles of these admeasurements, and then give the inferences to be drawn from them.

The occipital spine is the lump or knob which every person may feel on the back of his own head, just in the centre of the skull, a little above the nape of the neck; lower Individuality is just between the eyes, where the root of the nose springs from the forehead; this measurement gives the whole length of the head. The average length of men’s heads is seven inches five-tenths; the average length of the fifty-two heads in this table, is seven inches seven-tenths, being two-tenths of an inch more than common heads. Now, this may seem at first a small matter, but two-tenths of an inch added to the length of a man’s nose, would make a very different proboscis, and added to the length of the fibre of his brain, might make him longer headed than his neighbours in more than one sense of the word. But, n’importe, we are looking at the facts; the longest heads are those of Daniel Webster, Langdon Cheeves, James Barbour, and Mr. M’Duffie, each measuring eight inches two-tenths; or seven-tenths of an inch more than the average measure of men’s heads.

Next come John M’Lean and William Wirt, measuring eight inches one-tenth; then John C. Calhoun, Judge Marshall, Attorney General Berrien, and Judge Baldwin, each eight inches; next come Henry Clay, Samuel L. Southard, Judge Trimble, John Quincy Adams, and Martin Van Buren. These are all longer headed men than the average of the list; while Levi Woodbury is smaller by one-tenth;[289] and the last postmaster, Barry, by two-tenths. The shortest head in the list is that of Col. M’Kenney.

The next measurement is from the cochile, or hollow of the ear, to the occipital spine on the bump felt in the back of the head. It is asserted by some phrenologists, that this measurement gives the development of Inhabitiveness, or in the vernacular, the disposition to stay at home, attachment to place; but others, schismatics, say it indicates Concentrativeness, or power of fixing and concentrating thought. Be this as it may, among those on our list, John M’Lean and Judge Baldwin are the longest in this direction; next Henry Clay, Judge Johnson, &c. The smallest, and very small, (the average being in common men four inches two-tenths,) is Col. M’Kenney, who, (Heaven help him) is tied to home by a fibre of only three inches. No wonder he has trotted all over the world, and received the appointment of U. S. Indian Agent.

The next line of the table gives the measurements from the ear forward to Individuality, on the centre of the forehead between the eyes. This measurement, when taken in relation to the other measurements of each individual’s head, is much relied on by phrenologists as a test of the strength of the perceptive faculties; men who perceive and remember a multitude of individual facts and things, should belong here.

The longest in the list are J. Q. Adams, Judge Baldwin, and Gen. D. Parker. The average length of men’s heads in this direction, is less than five inches; the above measure five inches three-tenths; James Barbour, William Wirt, and Langdon Cheeves, each measure five inches two-tenths; Judge M’Lean and Mr. M’Duffie measure five inches one-tenth. Webster, Clay, and Calhoun, are a little longer than the average; Van Buren falls considerably short of the mark.

Col. M’Kenney should be well endowed in the perceptive faculties, for although his fibre measures but four inches nine-tenths, we must recollect that his head is small. The shortest in the list is R. Johnson. Now, among all men we ever met, no one can match John Q. Adams for minute and varied knowledge, save and except Lord Brougham.

The next measurement is from the ear to the top of the head, where, it is said, is the organ of Firmness; and the height of the head should indicate the strength of this quality. And here we used to think we had the phrenologists on the hip, judging from some of our own eye measurements; but we were told it must be taken in relation with other qualities; a man may be firm in vice’s cause as well as virtue’s, but then he is called stubborn; or his firmness may be qualified by[290] caution or cowardice—he may be a confirmed coward, &c. But no matter, we proceed to the measurements. The average of Firmness of these men, measured by Gunter’s scale, is five inches seven-tenths. We find Judge M’Lean overtops them all, and has a mountain of Firmness, measuring six inches three-tenths; next comes Mr. Mitchell, of South Carolina, then Messrs. Webster and Cheeves—six inches one-tenth; then lower, but yet high, John Quincy Adams, Calhoun, Barbour, Johnson, M’Duffie, Baldwin, Barry. Van Buren’s Firmness would never be in his way, being a tenth lower than the average; Mr. Clay’s is three-tenths; and one person, Lt. Simonson, is only five inches and two-tenths! The small Firmness, alias, small obstinacy, of Clay, perhaps qualifies him so well for mediator—pacificator.

Now let us apply the rule and compass the other way, and look at the measurements through the head; that is, from ear to ear, or rather along the ear from Destructiveness to Destructiveness, which indicates, also, the size of Secretiveness; it is said to be necessary to statesmen, players, and thieves.

Men generally measure five inches six-tenths in this direction; but the average measure of this list gives seven inches seven-tenths; from whence phrenologists would infer, that our worthies destroy and secrete only in the ratio of one-tenth more than the rest of the people; a very charitable conclusion, truly! The longest is Dr. Todsen, of the United States Army; who, horribile dictu! measures six inches and six-tenths! No wonder he was afterwards cashiered for theft; how could he help it, with such a bump! Next to this unfortunate worthy—and, as if to mark the contrast, and note the folly of phrenological predictions, comes—who? why, our present magnanimous and open-hearted president, who was then (nine years ago) the innocent and unsophisticated Martin Van Buren!

We feel almost indignant at the insinuation implied in this measurement; not that we doubt its correctness, or the motives of Doctors Lovell and Brereton, but they should have put in as a salvo the measurement of our president’s Conscientiousness, which, we think, must be enormous, in order to counterbalance this Secretiveness; for we are confident that nine years ago he had no fixed plans and determinations which he secreted from the world.

To be sure Judge Trimble is placed in the same category, and following close after, comes Daniel Webster, whose Destructiveness, measuring a tenth less than the president’s, is, nevertheless, enormously developed, and probably is

[291]

to the feathered and finny tribes which are so unfortunate as to frequent his neighbourhood. He is rather apt also to attack and destroy the arguments of his opponents. Barbour and Southard also are set down as destructives to the extent of six inches and three-tenths; while M’Lean, Marshall, Woodbury, and Baldwin, go the length of six inches two-tenths; John Quincy Adams and Tazewell, six and one-tenth; even Clay cannot be called a conservative, for he, with Calhoun, M’Duffie, and others, go the length of three-tenths of an inch more than the average of men in the destructive line.

The next measurement is from Cautiousness to Cautiousness; that is, the breadth of the head about four fingers above the ears at the broadest part. Some heads run up in a regular slope from above the ears to the crown; of course there can be little of the organ of caution there, and phrenologists maintain that this is the characteristic of French skulls; while other heads bulge out above the ear, having what they call large Cautiousness, and they point to the well-known bulge in Hindoo skulls.

Cautiousness, however, we believe, is not now considered by phrenologists to be merely a negative quality, as was taught by Gall, but a positive one, and more like fear. When this organ is deficient, the individual should be rash and precipitate; when full, cautious and circumspect; when very large, irresolute and wavering. Too much in a judge would be a failing, “which leans to virtue’s side;” too much in a soldier would oftener prove his disgrace than his honour; for one Fabius, who gained the name of Great, we have a thousand Marcelli; the glitter of the sword dazzles the multitude, but the virtue of the shield is known only to a few.

The first thing which strikes one on examining this part of the table, is the great difference between the measurements of caution in military men, and in the statesmen and judges; the latter are all large—some of them very large—the former are small; the average measurement of the judges and statesmen is six inches, while that of the officers is but five inches and three-tenths!

For instance, Judge Marshall has the enormous measurement of six inches and three-tenths in the organ of Cautiousness—that of the average being only five inches seven-tenths; Judge Trimble and Mr. Barbour measure 6-2; Messrs. Van Buren and Adams, Judges M’Lean and Berrien, 6-1; Messrs. Clay, Calhoun, Webster, Tazewell, &c. six inches. On the other hand, Major Wade measures only five inches; Lieut. Farley 5-1; Col. Towson 5-2; Col. Gibson, Major Kearney, and Lieut. Graham, 5-3. Most of the rest are below the average; and only two, General Parker and Col. Bomford, measure over six inches.

[292]

The last measurement we shall notice, is from Ideality to Ideality, that is, through the head, just above and behind the temple. Phrenologists suppose that this organ is essential to the poet, though it alone will not make a poet; he must have, besides, Language, Time, Tune, &c. Ideality in the common man may show itself in his good taste, in dress, furniture, &c.; in the orator or writer, in his tropes and figures; in all men, by the conception of, and aspiration to, something finer, better, superior to what it actually is.

In our list, it is largest, and enormously large, in Charles Hill, who was, we believe, an elegant dresser, quite a Corinthian; he measures six inches five-tenths, the average being five inches seven-tenths; Webster is 6-4 [Qy. 6-2?]; next Messrs. Barry, Parker, Woodbury, Cheeves, Van Buren, Wirt, &c., all of whom have it large. On the other hand, Judges Berrien and Marshall, Adams, Barbour, Southard, fall below the average; and Calhoun measures only five inches one-tenth. The remarkable diminutiveness of this organ, taken with the terseness of his language, which never shows a trope or figure of any kind, is a “coincidence” at least.

The measurements of this paper correct some erroneous impressions which the public generally have. We always supposed, for instance, that the heads of Judge Marshall and Mr. Calhoun were unfavourable to the phrenological doctrine, as being quite small; but it seems they are actually large; and, though narrow, the region of Ideality capable of containing a more than usual quantity of brain.

The largest head in the list is that of Daniel Webster, but it is not most to our liking, for there is a goodly share in the animal region; and though he has “most brains of the bunch,” they are not of the very choicest kind.

Phrenologists, looking over these measurements, and without regarding the names, would say that the best head was No. 7, belonging to Judge M’Lean, because it is full in the upper or moral region; Firmness, and its neighbouring Veneration, are large; they would call it a well-balanced head, and conclude that its great intellectual power would not be made a pander to the animal propensities. (We ourselves should prefer it; but, lest we should be suspected of a political bias in favour of the latter, we avow that our vote is for Daniel, malgré, his occiput.) The next heads, in the order of size, are Judges Baldwin, Marshall, Trimble, and Johnson; Messrs. Cheeves, M’Duffie, Wirt, Adams, (a quartetto of the same size); next, Clay, Van Buren, Calhoun, and Southard.

We have stated that we are candid enquirers into the nature of phrenology; we believe we are so; and if the facts shown in this paper are favourable to its pretensions, the fault is not ours, but[293] nature’s; we admire and we adopt the motto of one of its lights, “res non verba quæso.”

It would have been as easy for us to seek for, and to set forth, opposing arguments and facts; and we should have done it in the spirit of the motto just quoted; but as the vast majority of men of learning, and almost all writers, are opposed to phrenology—as it is assailed every day by argument and ridicule—as its opponents are rather uproarious whenever it is seriously mentioned—we deem it but fair audire alteram partem.

In plain truth, we are all, to a certain extent, phrenologists; and the disciples of Gall and Spurzheim have no right to claim for their masters the credit of originality, or for themselves the credit of peculiar and new views of nature. No age, since Aristotle, has been without its philosophers, who pointed out the brain as the organ by which the mind carried on its operations; and it is now generally admitted to be its primary and essential instrument.

A shrewd and practical English philosopher, and an uncompromising anti-phrenologist, writes thus: “Mind, connected with body, can only acquire knowledge slowly through the bodily organs of sense, and more or less perfectly according as these organs and the central brain are perfect. A human being, born blind and deaf, and therefore remaining dumb, as in the noted case of the boy Mitchell, grows up closely to resemble an automaton; and an originally misshapen or deficient brain causes idiocy for life. Childhood, maturity, dotage, which have such differences of bodily powers, have corresponding differences of mental faculties; and as no two bodies, so no two minds, in their external manifestations, are quite alike. Fever, or a blow on the head, will change the most gifted individual into a maniac, cause the lips of virgin innocence to utter the most revolting obscenity, and those of pure religion to speak horrible blasphemy; and most cases of madness and eccentricity can now be traced to a peculiar state of the brain.”

What the nature and the powers of the human soul may be, we know not, nor can we know, until it is disembodied and disenthralled; until this mortal shall put on immortality, and time and space shall be no more; then, doubtless, the power of ubiquity, and a searching vision to which the diameter of the globe will present no more of an obstacle than does the thinnest glass to the mortal eye, will be among the least of the spiritual powers; but, until then, if we would study the nature of the spirit, we must consider it as trammeled by, and operating through, a corporeal organisation.

The difference between the vast majority of thinking men and ultra-phrenologists, we believe to be narrowed down to this; all[294] admit that the spirit of man, manifesting itself through corporeal organisation, is influenced and modified by, and indeed entirely dependent upon, the nature and state of that organisation, particularly of the brain and nervous system; while phrenologists go farther, and say, that according to the length and breadth of certain bundles of fibres in certain compartments of the brain does the spirit manifest its different faculties with different degrees of activity and power.

We all of us admit, that even the giant mind of a Newton, or a Napoleon, would struggle in vain against the finger of an infant pressing upon the brain; but phrenologists maintain, that as the finger should be pressed upon one or another organ, so would one or another of the mental powers be immediately affected. Perhaps the truth is beyond the extremes; and while we should strive to attain the juste milieu, we should not be deterred by any fears of what may be the inferences from searching for truth in observations upon nature.

S. G. H.

MISCELLANY.

Mr. Combe’s Second Course of Lectures.—In our last number, we gave a particular account of the reception of Mr. Combe’s first course of lectures in this city. The second course (then in a state of progress) was completed on the evening of April 6th, at the Musical Fund Hall. A very large audience was in attendance. After the close of the lecture, and Mr. Combe had retired, on motion, Dr. Wylie, professor of ancient languages in the University of Pennsylvania, was called to the chair, and Dr. M’Clellan, professor of surgery in the Jefferson Medical College of this city, was appointed secretary.

The chairman addressed the audience in a few brief remarks upon the propriety of making some expression of the satisfaction which the very numerous class had derived from Mr. Combe’s lectures. On motion, the following resolutions, offered by Thomas Fisher, Esq., were unanimously adopted:—

Thus have closed two most interesting and valuable courses of lectures on phrenology in this city. Their reception has been of the most gratifying character. Some may be disposed to think that their influence will be of transitory effect, and that the interest will soon subside. But if such should be the fact, it would be an anomaly in the history of the science. Its principles have thus far proved too true, and too important, to share such a fate. And they have fallen, we believe, into too many and too able hands in this city to be so soon forgotten or easily neglected. The interest in the subject has resulted, not from idle curiosity, nor the mere excitement of feeling, but from the sober and deliberate exercise of the intellect. And wherever the truth of such principles is firmly lodged, there it will live, and its effects will be felt and seen.

We cannot but express a strong desire that Mr. Combe will favour the citizens of Philadelphia with another course of lectures during the ensuing winter.

Lectures of Rev. J. A. Warne.—This gentleman has just closed in this city, a course of six lectures upon the “Aspects of Phrenology on Revelation.” This department of the science appropriately belongs to the clergy. It is peculiarly their duty to investigate the moral and religious bearings of every science, but more especially of one that professes to unfold the laws of mind. And it would seem, that if any class of persons ought to be thoroughly acquainted with such a subject, it is the clergy. For their various duties lead them to deal almost constantly with mind, and, of all others, they should understand its laws.

We are therefore gratified in seeing one of this profession engaged in discussing the merits of phrenology, and showing that its principles are not only not inconsistent, but in striking harmony with the truths of Christianity. Mr. Warne is favourably known to the public as the author of a chapter on the harmony between phrenology and revelation, appended to a Boston edition of “Combe’s Constitution of Man.” These lectures have been attended by an audience, very respectable both as to numbers and character. The subjects of the different lectures were handled in an able manner. That our readers may better understand their nature, we give below the leading topics discussed.

It was the object of the lecturer to show, that phrenology does not teach materialism, nor fatalism, nor infidelity, either atheistical or deistical; but that, on the contrary, it furnishes arguments refutatory of each of these errors, and even affords advantages in assailing them, not elsewhere found; that this science does not deny or destroy human accountability, or teach the irresistibility of motives, but demonstrates man to be a free agent, by proving him to possess all the conditions of liberty—viz. will, plurality of motives, and power over the instruments[296] of voluntary action; and, consequently, he is and must be accountable for his conduct.

The lecturer proceeded also to show, that the Scriptures agree with phrenology in classifying the faculties of man into moral sentiments, intellectual faculties, and animal feelings; that they invest, as phrenology does, the moral sentiments with the dominion; that they recognise and address the respective faculties which phrenology has ascertained to belong to our nature; and that the principles of this science are in harmony with the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, such as human depravity, indwelling sin, regeneration, &c.

This is, to some extent, new ground, and as far as our knowledge extends, no person in Europe, or in this country, has devoted so much attention to this part of the science as Mr. W. And we are gratified in being able to state, that he intends to prosecute the investigation of this subject, as his other duties may permit, for some years.

Dr. Elder’s Address.—We lately received a copy of an address, delivered before the Penn Institute of Pittsburgh, Pa., February 28th, 1839, by William Elder. It is truly encouraging to find so many friends and advocates of our new science. It is now becoming the theme of many public addresses and lectures, as well as leading articles in our regular periodicals. There are also some who make a free use of its principles, and very advantageously too, without employing its technical language, or even giving due credit to the science. It is a fact, that whenever and wherever truth on any subject is presented, in harmony with the principles of phrenology, it will appear clearer, more consistent and convincing to every mind, and consequently will be more powerful in its effects. It is as certain as any mathematical demonstration can be, that if phrenology is a true interpretation of human nature, that all truth connected with mind, and presented in harmony with the laws of its correct interpretation, must touch a cord that will vibrate in every person, though perhaps feebler in some than in others. We have known many individuals very much pleased, and even captivated by a certain production or performance, and to affirm repeatedly that the subject was never discussed before so clearly and satisfactory to their minds; but when they were afterwards informed that it was treated upon strictly phrenological principles, they are much surprised, and sometimes seem mortified. How true, in spite of prejudice and opposition, is the Latin proverb—“Magna est Veritas et prævalebit.”

But to return to Dr. Elder’s address. We have perused it with much interest. It appears that this address was delivered before an association of young men, formed for mutual improvement. The principal object of the author was to unfold the great laws of mind, a knowledge of which is so important to mental and moral improvement. A subject more appropriate to the occasion could not well have been selected; and how far the author succeeded in accomplishing his object, we shall take pleasure in giving our readers an opportunity to judge for themselves, by presenting several extracts in the next number of the Journal.

The article promised in our last, on the “Elementary Principles of Phrenology,” is necessarily deferred till the next number.