Vic BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FU^ THE GIFT OF Henrg HI. Sage 1891 jj^..a.L^.3.., j/?/. CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 1924 083 937 411 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924083937411 BOM'S ARTISTS' LIBRARY. THE ANATOMY AND PHILOSOPHY EXPEBSSION, THE A.NATOMY AND PHILOSOPHY EXPEESSION AS CONNECTED WITH THE FINE ARTk' SIE CHAELES BELL, K.H. BEVENTS EDITION, REVISED. LONDON: GEOEGE BELL & SONS, YORK ST., COVENT GARDEN, AND NEW YOEK. 1893. A- \^o\s^ LONIX)N: RVRIKTSD FBOU THE STEBEOTTFK FLA.T1£S BY >7U. CLOWES & SOKB, LTD., 6TAUF0BD BTBEBT AKD CHARIKO CR0S8. PEEFAOE TO THE THIRD EDITION. These Essays formed the earliest and the latest ocon pation of the lameuted author's leisure hoiirs; — and they now appear under the disadvantages which must attend a posthumous publication. It was tne habit of the author, in his literary compo- sitions, to sketch his first ideas as they arose ; and parts of this work were found evidently intended to be revised and corrected. They are faithfully added to the text of the last edition, where they bear upon the subject. The following prefatory remarks are from the pen of the late Professor Bell,* to whom, in the warmth of brotherly affection, the second edition of the work had been inscribed. The Essays' which are now presented to the public in their enlarged form, were originally composed, as the • George Joseph Bell, Professor of the Law of Scotland in tho Uniyersity of Edinburgh. He died September 23, 1843. Vi PEEFACE. author fondly said in Ms dedication, " when we studied together before the serious pursuits of life began;" but were not published till the year 1806, after the author nad left Edinburgh and fixed his residence in London. A second edition appeared in 1824 ; but he resisted every call for a new impression until he should have had an opportunity of verifying in Italy the principles of criticism in art, by the study of the works of the great masters in painting and sculpture. With this view he visited the Continent in 1840 ; and on his return he recomposed the whole for a new edition, introducing occasional extracts from his journal, sometimes to enforce the texts and sometimes to shew from what authority he drew his conclusions. In a declining state of health he had taken advantage of a recess in his professorial duties in the University of Edinburgh to revisit his friends in England. He hoped in the leisure of the country to give this work a final revisal for the press ; but before he had fulfilled his wishes in this respect, his life was terminated by an access of his illness at Hallow Park, in "Worcestershire, on the 29th of April, 1842. In the speculations of which this work is the result, and in the interesting inquiries to which they led. Sir Charles Bell was accustomed to seek relief from the wearing anxiety which, from his exquisite sensibility to human suffering, had ever attended the practice oi fiis profession : but a still greater effect was to follow. It was from these investigations that he was first led to make those discoveries in the system of the nerves, PEEFACE. VII whioh are now acknowledged to be the most important contributions of modern times to the science of Physiology. Before Sir Charles Bell's time, the nerves, which pervade every the minutest portion of our frame, seemed, in the studies of anatomists, a mass of inextric- able confusion and a subject of hopeless obscurity ; but he believed that in the works of the Creator there is nothing imperfect or unnecessarily complex, and that the solution of this apparent confusion was not beyond the reach of human inquiry. In tracing the causes of movements in the countenance and in the frame of the body under the influence of passion or emotion, he engaged in a very careful inquiry into the origin, course, and destination of the nerves ; and consequent investi- gations led him to those fundamental truths, hitherto unperceived, by which he, and those who have followed his course, have revealed to the medical world the beauti- ful simplicity of this part of the animal economy. To the physiologist it will be particularly interesting to trace in this work the steps by which the author was led to the comprehension of that most intricate portion of the nervous system, the class of nerves which he has named respiratory; a subject so difficult, that it was long before his views were acknowledged by the medical profession. Meanwhile his labours and his anxiety were relieved by the variety of his pursuits. He was a true lover of nature, and to trace the proofs of perfection and design in all the works of the Creator was to him a source 0/ Vni PREFACE. ever new delight. Constantly he had some useful, some noble purpose in view, whether in following up scientific inquiry, or in enthusiastically pursuing nature or art. Those who knew him best, and had seen 'h^m in the most trying circumstances of life, were most sensible that there never was a man whose mind was more uniformly attuned to grateful happiness. CONTENTS. PAGB Inteoddction. — Comparison of Ancient and Modem Art — Studies of the Italian Masters .... 1 Essay I. Theory of Beauty in the Countenance — Of the Form and Proportions of the Head and Pace . 17 Essay II. Changes from Infancy to Age 42 Of the Skull, as a Protection to the Brain ... 46 The Characteristic Forms of Animals .... 49 The Characteristic Organs of Man 52 Theories of Ideal Beauty 58 National Peculiarities in the Form of the Head . 65 EssAT in. Of those Sources of Expression in the Coun- tenance which cannot be explained on the idea of a direct Influence of the Mind upon the Features 76 Blushing 88 EssAT rv. Of the Muscles of the Face la Man 90 Muscles of the Forehead and Eyebrow . . 91 Expression of the Human Eye .... 94 Muscles of the Nostrils 99 Muscles of the Lips and Cheeks . . . 100 Beard 105 Expression in the Lips and Moustaches . 108 Essay V. Of the Expression of Passion, illustrated by a Comparison of the Musclea of the Face in Man and in Animals ; and of the Muscles peculiar to Man, and their eifeots in bestow- ing Human Expression 112 Expression in Animals ... .... 113 The Muscles of Animals . 120 X CONTENTS. PAGB Essay VI. Of Expreaaion in tLe Human Coimtenaiioe . . 131 Laughter 134 Weeping 136 Grief 139 Essay VII. Of Pain 143 Demoniacs 145 Convulsions 146 Pear 148 Terror 152 Despair . . . 153 Admiration ....,, 155 Joy 155 Jealousy 157 Eage 158 Eemorae 160 Madness .,..,. 160 Death 164 Essay VIII. Of Expression in reference to the Body . . .171 The Emotions modified by controlling Expression 179 Essay IX. The Study of Anatomy, as necessary to Design . 183 Of the Genius and Studies of Michael Angelo Buonarotti 186 The Study of Anatomy 191 Essay X. Of the Uses of Anatomy to the Painter . . . 193 Faults into which the Artist may be betrayed in studying the Antique 195 Or in drawing from the Academy Figure . . . 199 Anatomy, as conducting to Truth of Expression and of Character ... 202 APPENDIX. Of the Nerves, by Alexander Shaw 209 Explanation of the Plates , , r . , \ 247 LIST OF PLATES. TofMt Age and Ikpanot Page 42 Prayer 96 Horse's Head (Giulio Bomano) 117 Do. WITH Muscles 1J8 Do. {NorthcoU) 120 Lauohteb. 134 Weepikq 136 Pain 144 Demoniac ...•••..• 146 contulsions ........ 146 Fear with Wonder ....... 148 Terror . . .152 Jealousy 156 Bage 158 Bemorse 160 Madness . , 160 APPENDIX. Plate I. Skcli^ 247 „ n. Muscles or the Face . . . ■ , 249 „ ni. Muscles op Dog's Face .... 250 M rV. Nebtes of the Face and Nbok . . 853 PUBLISHEBS' NOTICE. The frequent reference which has been made to Sir Oharlee Bell's Treatise on Expression in recent lectures on Art, and the generally admitted value of the work as an aid to the Art student, have induced the Publishers to issue a revised edition in a oheap and handy form. ON EXPRESSION. INTRODUCTION. It is not an easy task to reconcile two subjects so far apart in the minds of most readers as Anatomy and the Fine Arts ; but if prejudices, early imbibed, be thrown off, it will be found that there is no science, taken in a comprehensive sense, more fruitful of in- struction, or leading to more interesting subjects of inquiry, than the knowledge of the Animal body. The academies of Europe, instituted for the improve- ment of painting, stop short of the science of anatomj-, which is so well suited to enlarge the mind, and to train the eye for observing the forms of Nature ; or if they enforce the study at all, it is only in its more obvious application, that of assisting the drawing of y the human figure. But my design in this volume goes further : — I propose to direct attention to the characteristic forms of man and brutes, by an inquiry into the natural functions, with a view to conj prehend the rationale of those changes in the countenance and figure which are indicative of Passion. A just feeling in the fine arts is an elegant acquire- ment and capable of cultivation. Drawing is necessary to many pursuits and useful arts : Locke has included it amongst the accomplishments becoming a gentleman, and, we may add, it is much more useful to the artisan. Good taste and execution in design are necessary to 0^ 2 INTEODUCTION. manufactures; and consequently they contribute to the resources of a country. I am not without hope that a new impulse may be given to the cultivation of the fine arts, hy explaining their relation to the natural history of man and animals ; and by shewing how a knowledge of outward form, and the accuracy of drawing which is a con- sequence of it, are related to the interior structure and functions. Anatomy, in its relation to the arts of design, is, in truth, the grammar of that language in which they address us. The expressions, attitudes, and tiovements of the human figure are the characters of thia language, adapted to convey the effect of historical narration, as \/well as to shew the working of human passion, and to gi^'6 the most striking and lively indic^ions of intellectual power and energy. The art of the painter, considered with a view to these interesting representations, assumes a high cha- racter. Every lesser embellishment and minuteness of detail is regarded by an artist who has those more enlarged views of his profession as foreign to the main design, distracting and hurtful to the gTand effect, admired only as accurate imitations, almost appearing to be what they are not. This distinction must be felt, or we shall never see the grand style in painting receive that encouragement which results from public feeling and good taste. The painter must not be satisfied to copy and represent what he sees ; he must cultivate this talent of imitation merely as bestowino' those facilities which are to give scope to the exertions of his genius ; as the instruments and means only which he is to employ for communicating his thoun-hts, ind presenting to others the creations of his fancy ; it js by his creative powers alone that he can become truly a painter; and for these ho is to trust to original INTEODUCTION. 3 genius, cultivated and enriched by a constant observa- tion of nature. Till he has acquired a poet's eye for ^ nature, and can seize with intuitive quickness the appearances of passion, and all the effects produced upon the body by the operations of the mind, he has not raised himself above the mechanism of his art, nor does he rank with the poet or historian. It is a happy characteristic of the present times, that a love of the fine arts is becoming more and more pre- valent among the affluent; but still, rich furniture, mere ornamental painting and gilding, usurp the place of art properly so called. The mansion of an English nobleman and that of a Eoman of the same rank present a singular contrast. The former exhibits car- pets, silk hangings, lamps, mirrors, china, and perhaps books. The palazzo, on the other hand, in its general aspect, may betray antiquity and decay ; yet respect for ancestry retains on its walls the proofs of former grandeur and taste ; there hang many pictures, each of which would purchase an English villa or furnish a London mansion in all the extravagance of fashion. Vulgar curiosity may seek admittance to the finery of the one, while princes are gratified by admission to the other. Original genius seems peculiarly necessary to ex- cellence in design. Good taste may be acquired by familiarity with statues and paintings, and by the con- versation of the ingenious ; but the power of execution depends on deeper sources. In reading Vasari, we are struck by the difficulties with which the famous painters had to struggle. There is hardly one of them who had not to combat parental authority before obtaining leave to give up his days to painting ; nor is it sur- prising that there should be an unwillingness to permit a youth to dedicate his life to an art so little gainful, wheie extraordinary excellence alone obtains notice, and B 2 4 INTEODUCTION. Lardly ever an adequate reward. I speak of the highei v'epartment of art. Much has been done at home by the force of genius alono. Our native artists have vindicated us from the aspersion of Winckelmann, that genius for the fine arts is stinted in these northern climes, — a notion -which has prevailed so extensively as even to have influenced our own Milton : — "Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing." In his history of ancient art, Winckelmann seems to attribute all to climate ; not only the perfection of form in the inhabitants of Greece, but their serenity of mind, sweetness, and love of beauty. Such a theory would imply that the people of Sparta and Athens were characterized by the same qualities. But when Spaita triumphed, it was in pride and rapacity. Neither the general intercourse between nations, nor commerce, nor intellectual nor moral excellence, derived any benefit from her ascendancy.* Athens was the mistress of the world ; and she has left examples of the greatest virtues and excellence in philosophy, eloquence, poetry, and art ; yet she has also showTi humiliating instances of tyranny, cruelty, and blood. The history of Greece is the record of incessant wars, of towns sacked, and of citizens inhumanly massacred. And in Athens war was always justified, if it promised advantage ; when tried by misfortune, she was found wanting : during pestilence, every aifection was blunted ; and licentious- ness abounded to such a degree, that the people became brutalized. It is strange that Winokolmann should attribute so much to the influence of climate, seeing that where the olive still ripens, in the long summer of Greece, not a vestige of those virtues which -were the • Arnold's " History of Rome." raTKODTTOTION. 5 admiration of tte world now exists : and eenturios liaye passed without a poet or philosopher appearing, in the country of Homer and Plato. In the soil and climate of Italy, there have existed together states of society the most dissimilar. Among the Etruscans, and in the cities of Central Italy, the arts and civilization of Egypt and Phoenicia had taken root, long before Eome* arose to crush them. Her policy, and the leaning of her most virtuous citizens, were adverse to the arts. They feared that whilst they refined they should soften away those rugged and sterner qualities of the Eoman soldiers which were bestowing on them the empire of the world. But the old virtues at length declined, and the Eomans came to covet the luxuries of conquered nations, whom they could not rival in refinement or the arts ; so that Eome became the centre and the common receptacle of the spoils of Egypt, Greece, and Italy. The inquiry into the history of ancient art were an idle one, if it did not lead to the conviction that * A more just estimate is now made, than formerly, of the early Bomans, and of the virtues of the surrounding tribes. (Dr. Arnold's " History of Eome."} The n-mains discovered in the tombs of Tarquinii, Tuscaiiia, Argyllae, Veii, and Clusiimi, leave no doubt of the high advancement of art in these cities, ceoturies before the foundation of Home — at least of its fubled rise under Komnlua. These cities were the adversaries of ti.e early Romans; and, though subdued, furnished to their masters the elements of gnvern- m' lit and of civil policy. Eome had conquered the surrounding states, and sought to blot out all memory of them ; when new seitlements of Greeks (giving name to the district of Magna (irsecia) again offered to her a more extended field of enterpr se, in whicli the arts of peace were once more subjugated under her iron sway. If [ did not believe that Provideuce rules in the march of nations, I should say, that the world would have advanced iu philosophy, literature, and art, more rapidly but for that stem, remorseless people, obstinate against instruction. We are biassed in favour of Rome from her language containing the only record of much that, but for her conquests, would have spread with earlier, and happier influence, over the western world. 6 INTKODUCTION. institutions, mi.ch more than climate, influence the faculties of man. Indolence steals upon communities as upon individuals. In the same regions, and in tho same climate, the inhabitants are at one time over- whelmed in ignorance and superstition, and at another, elevated to the most admired intellectual exertions. When the energies of a people are roused, there is an improvement in the arts of peace, however gloomy and foreboding the struggle may at first appear. The mind excited by public events does not subside into indo- lence. In Athens the struggle for power, and the desire of independence, forced the highest talents to the highest station. It was during the contests of the free states of Italy that the arts revived.* Perhaps we should attribute the cultivation of litera ture and the arts in Italy more to the smallness of the states than to the forms of their governments, for these were of every kind. While in Eome the Pope was an absolute sovereign, in Venice the nobility had raised an oligarchic authority on the necks of the people; and both were distinguished from the democratic turbulence of Florence. In the great kingdoms of Modern Europe, princes are siirrounded by a dense body of courtiers, political agents, and soldiers, numerous and clamorous in pro- portion to the offices of command and places to be bestowed. All who are distinguished by excellence in liberal studies are jostled aside, and the prince knows little of men of genius, far less does he think of making them friends. But in the smaller states of Italy, princes sought the acquaintance of men remarkable for their talent, for the cultivation of philosophy, of the language of Greece, or of Ancient Eome, for the improvement of their native Italian, and of poetry, or * See Eoscoe's introductory oiiap'/jr to tbo " Life of Lorenzo di Medici." INTKODDOTION. 7 of th.e fine arts : and it is pleasant to notice how easily the presence or absence of such, men affected the BplendoTir of the court. Amidst the more than barbaric magnificence and riches of modern courts, certainly of our own, the exit or entrance of such men would be unmarked. Perhaps the circumstance that all negotiations were formerly conducted in Latin, and the conseqiient necessity for courtiers being acquainted with the learned languages, gave a liberal tone to the men of influence in the several states, and a disposition to promote literature and science. Some authors have attributed the genius of the Greeks, and their love of philosophy and art, to the conformation of the brain, — to the form of the skull ! On this subject I may have occasion to touch hereafter. But does not history determine the question? The Greeks were not extir- pated by the Eoman conquests. The skulls of a people do not change. During all the period of the Byzantine Empire, between the reigns of Constantine and Palseo- logus, luxury, sloth and efieminacy prevailed, whilst the people of the West of Europe were rising in moral and intellectual energy, and in the cultivation of the mind.* During the latter periods of Ancient Eome, a fashion arose which conduced much to the advancement of art, and filled the city with its thousand statues. The Eomans, like the Greeks, sought a species of im- mortality by the erection of their busts and statues ; they consecrated their friends by setting up their busts in their temples. Ttese being given in honour of the divinity whom they worshipped, were preserved even when the personages they represented had incurred the odium of the people, and when their statues placed in • See Prichard'a " Physical History of Man." He justly con tiuvorts the idea of Blumeubach. H INTEOIjUCTION. public were cast down. This desire of olDtaimng tho busts of illustrious men* explains tbe reason of tha multitude of tbose found collected in the Vatican : they are chiefly iQ marble; for the statues and busts in bronze and other metals tempted the cupidity of men in the middle ages, and were melted down. We are Btraok, too, with the number of the busts of celebrated men in proportion to those of princes ; which Visconti believes to have been owing to the desire which pre- vailed among private citizens in the better ages of Greece and Eome, to have them copied, as appropriate ornaments for their libraries, porticos, and gardens. The remains of antiquity in Italy, the presence, though in ruins, of temples, statues, sarcophagi, altars, and relievos, account for the early revival of art in that country. These must have been the studies of Donatellof and Ghiberti, as afterwards of Buonarr. ti ; for sculpture led the way to painting. Our country- men, pursuing their studies there, are placed under similar inSuences, and give proof that it is neither genius nor devotion to the imitative arts which is wanting in the north. But the time is past when the people knelt down before the works of a sculptor's hands; when the Amphictyons, the council of all * On this subject, see the Pieface to Viseonti's " Iconographie." t If all the great works of Grecian art had been at once dis- closed, it might not have produced the happy effect of tht suc- cessive exhumations of the splendid works of antiquity ; the excitement, or, as Cioognara has expressed it, " un certo fermento," kept up by the contest of princes for these works of art, gave importance to all who sought to imitate them, and raised tbem in tliB estimation of even the most vulgar minds. The progress in the history of art seems to have been — First, the establishment of new families;' then, the erection of splendid palaces and the necessity or convenience of digging for materials in the foundation of ancient buildings; next, the cxhumatioc of line st it lies, and the emulation thenoo aribii.a;; lastly, the ilcsii'e of having prot'e.--stii-s and universities arose, and this took place at a time wlien tha pontiffs were banished from Bume. INTKODUOTI0K. 9 Greece, gave him solemn thanks, and assigceJ him a dwelling at the public expense in every city I* It is in vain that we dream of equalling the great works of antiquity ; they were raised under tyranny and false religions. We must hope for excellence, in a different condition, as the fruit of a religion of love, joy, and peace. If the arts of design hear no relation to that which has the greatest influence on mankind ; if they stand related neither to religion, nor to the records of history, nor to the progress of empire, — they must be ever, as a dead language, associated with ancient times j and with us, nothing more than a handmaid to domestic ornament and individual re- finement and enjoyment. Our artists should be brought to consider the changed frame of society. No one in these modern times, however much he may deserve the gratitude of mankind, is exalted as they would desire to see the proficient in art. The young artists madden themselves by the contemplation of antiquity, which leads to dis- appointment and repining age, The last conversation I had with Flaxman, whose genius was better estimated abroad than at home, was whilst the old man was elevated on a great block of marble, in his studio {Anglice, a shed). " Ay," says he, " we shall see what is thought of these things two hundred years hence." Yes, but they wiU record these things in stereotype, not in marble. Printing banished sculpture, and no man now, or hereafter, in addressing the people, will, * Tirabosohi refers to an ancient chronicle regarding the Dominican church of Eeggio, erected in 1233, for an example of the enthusiasm under which great edifices were built, and where all grades of society wrought as common labourers, lil^e emmete in au ant-hill. " Tarn parvi, quam magni, tarn nobiles, quam pedites, tam rustici, quam ciyes, ferebant lapides, sablonem, et calcinam, supra dorsum eoium . . , . et beatus ille qui plus portare poterat," 10 INTEODUDTION. like Fabius Maximus, or Scipio, point to the statuea of his ancestors. Without cherishing vain regrets, there is a source of infinite delight in art, even as cultivated among us ; and we may hold the r'-'mains 'of antiquity as super- lative models. Gods and goddesses we shall not again see in marble, but the human figure in its perfection we certainly may. The Greeks gave prizes for excelling beauty. Among them a youth might be celebrated for the perfection of his eyebrow ; and the proportions of an Aspasia were transferred to the statue of a goddess. The forms of strength and the proportions of the victor in the games were scientifically noted and recorded, whether it was for wrestling, running, oi pitching the discus. Here, then, were studies for the sculptor, and a public to judge of the perfection of his work. Our connoisseurs never see the naked figure, or, if they do, it is an academy figure, — probably some hired artisan, with his muscles unequally developed by the labour of his trade, — pale and shivering, and offer- ing none of those fine carnations which more constant exposure gives to the body, as we see in the face, nor having that elegant freedom of limb, which youth, under a genial clijnate and the various exercises of the gymnasium, acquired.* For the improvement of art, there must be a feeling in the public in correspondence with the artist's aspi- rations, f In visiting the Sistine Chapel, 1 said to ♦ So conscious were some of tlie Grecian states of the advantages derived from exercise, that they denied them to their slaves. t I cannot withhold the following instance of public feeling in England : — When Lord Elgin brought to London the figures of the beautiful frieze from the Parthenon of Athens, and while they remained in his court-yard in Piccadilly, he proposed a great treat to his friends. He had entertained au ingenious notion that, by exposing the natural figures of some of our modern athletwa in contrast with the marbles, the perfection of the antique would be INTEODUOTION. 11 the celebrated artist who aooompanied me, " Ho"W could Michael Angelo venture to do such things ? Were such a man to arise amongst us, he would meet with ridicule, or live in neglect." But my friend said, " Do you not remember the impatience of Julius to see these paintings during their execution? Tor Michael Angelo being unwilling to let his unfinished work be seen, the Pope threatened to break down the whole Bcafiblding on which the painting was raised." It was by such enthusiasm, and the consequent encouragement of art, that Julius has justly participated in the fame of those who made his days an era in the world. It is perhaps favourable to painting, that it has not to contend with the excellence of antiquity. In visit- ing the schools of Florence and Bologna, and the galleries of the Vatican, we can trace the successive works of the early painters and the progress of modem painting. In the commencement, the subjects are such as could only be suggested by monkish superstition and enthusiasm. They are the representations of the wasted figures of anchorites, or if of women they are Buffering martyrdom. Even the Saviour, represented so full of beauty in after-time, is painted from the dead of the lazar-house or hospital. The purpose must have been to subdue the mind.* With better times the felt, and that we should see that the sculptors of the best time of Greece did not deviate from nature. The noblemen and gentlemen vrhom he conceived would take an interest in this display were invited. He had tlie boxers, the choice men of what is termed "the fancy." They stripped and sparred before the ancient statues, and for one instant it was a very fine exhibition ; but no sooner was the bulky form of Jackson, no longer young, opposed to the fine elastic figure of the champion of all England, than a cry arose, and "the ring" pressed forward, and ancient art and the works of Phidias were forgotten. Such I fear is the feeling of even the better part of the English public. Let not the young sculptor })e too sanguine of support. * " In the old library in Basle tlieio is a remarkable painting J 2 INTRODUCTION. influence of tlie Clinroli was more lu.ppily exercised, and finer feelings prevailed. The subjects were from the Scriptures, and noble efforts were made, attesting a deep feeling of every condition of humanity. What we see in the churches of Italy, and almost in every church, is the representation of innocence and tender- ness in the Madonna and Child, and in the young St. John. Contrasted with the truth, and beauty, and innocence of the Virgin, there is the mature beauty and abandonment of the Magdalen. In the dead Christ, in the swooning of the Mother of the Saviour, and in the Marys, there is the utmost scope for the genius of the painter. We see there, also, the grave character of mature years in the Prophets and Evangelists, and the grandeur of expression in Moses. In short, we have the whole range of human character and expression, from the divine loveliness and purity of the Infant Saviour, of Angels and of Saints, to the strength, fierce- ness, and brutality of the executioners. There, also, we may see the effort made, the greatest of all, in imitation of the ancients, to infuse divinity into the human beauty of that countenance, which, though not without feeling, was superior to passion, and in which benevolence was to be represented unclouded by human infirmity. These were the subjects to call forrh the exertions of genius, while the rewards were the riches of the church, and the public exhibition, in unison -nith of Christ by the younger Holbein. The painter must have been where anatomy was to be learned ; for I am much mistaken if he has not painted from the dead body in an hospital. It is horribly true. There is here the true colour of the deiid body : (the Italian paintera generally paint the dead of an ivory white). Here is the rigid, stringy appearance of the muscles about the knee. The wounds where the nails liave penetrated the hands and feet are dark red, with extravasation round the wound, and the hand itself of the livid colour of mortification. The eyes, too, shew from whence he drew ; the eyelids are open, the pupil raised, and a Utile turned out. Holbein tiorn here, in 1498." — Note from Journal. INTKOLUCTtON. 13 the deep feblings of tlie people. Thus did religion at a later peiiod tend to restore wliat it had almost destroyed on the overthrow of Pagan idolatry. For the new- born zeal of the first Christians sought to efface every monument of the antique religion, throwing down the statues, destroying the mosaics and pictures, eifacing every memorial, and razing the ancient temples, or converting theni into Christian churches. The Church of Eome has favoured the arts in 9 remarkable manner. The ceremonial and decorations of the altar have been contrived with great felicity. He is insensible to beauty who, being a painter, does not catch their ideas of light and shade, and colour. The Gothic or rich Eoman architecture, the carved screen, the statues softened by a subdued light, form altogether a magnificent scene. The effects of light and colour are not matters of accident. The painted glass of the high window represents to the superficial observer no more than the rich garments of the figures there painted. But the combination of colours evincee science; the yellows and greens, in due proportion with the crimsons and blues, throw beams of an autumnal tint among the shafts and pillars, and coloui the volumes of rising incense. The ofScials of the altar, the priests in rich vestments, borrowed from the Levites under the old law, are somewhat removed from the spectator and obscured by the smoke of the incense.* The young men flinging the silver censers, * If the painter requires to Jinow these vestments, he will find an aouount of tliem in Eustace's " Classical Tour through Italy," vol. ii. Antiquity characterises everything in the Eoman Church ; and to the English traveller this affords additional interest. The cereminies are ancient; the language of the service is that which prevailed at the period of the introduction of Christianity ; the vestn^nts are Jewish — at all events very ancient and majestic, liike everything else in painting, the artist should know the origin and uses of the drapery, or his Unes and folds will bti onmeaning. — (See Prefaee to Fowirf.i 14 INTEODUCTION. ill themselves beautiful, and making the volumes of incense rise, give the effect of a tableau, defying imitation ; for where can there be such a combination to the eye, joined to the emotions inspired by the pealing organ, the deep chant, and the response of the youthful choristers, whose voices seem to come from the vaulted roof? There is something too in the be- lief that the chant of the psalms is the early Jewish measure. It was scarcely possible, during the struggles of the Eeformation, to keep the middle course ; and in reject- ing the corrupt and superstitious parts of its cere- monial, to retain the better part of the Eoman Church. Enthusiasm would have the recesses of each man's breast to be the only sanctuary ; that, even while on earth, and burdened with the weakness, and subject to the influences, of an earth-bom creature, he should attain that state of purity and holiness, "when, as in the Apocalypse, there is "no temple." Philosophy came to countenance the poverty and the meanness of our places of public worship. Climate, it was inferred, influenced the genius of a people, and, therefore, their government, and mode of worship. The offices of re- ligion in hot climates were said to require some sen- sible object before the eyes, and hence the veneration paid to statues and paintings; whilst in the colder climes we were to substitute internal contemplation and the exercise of reason for passion.* We trust, or hope, that in the breasts of those who fill the family pew, in these northern churches, there may be more genuine devotion ; but to appearance aU is pale and cold : while to the subject we are now con- * Some such thoughts must have come early into my mind in tr3ing my pencil on the ruins of an ancient abbey; and when, afterwards within the kirk, I looked to the rafters, as oi a baru and saw the swallows flying about during divine service. INTEODUCTION. 15 eidering, at leas., no aid is afforded. What a contrast is offered to the eye of the painter by the figures seen in the churches cf the Eoman Catholic countries of the south, as compared with those in our own ! There are seen men in the remote aisles or chapels, cast down in prayer, and abandoned to their feelings with that unre- straiu.ed expression which belongs to the Italian from his infancy : and even the beggars who creep about the porches of the churches are like nothing we see nearer home. In them we recognise the figures familiar to us in the paintings of the great masters. In visiting the church of the Annunziata in Genoa, I found a beggar lying in my way, the precise figure of the lame man in the cartoon of Eaphael. He lay extended at full length upon the steps, crawling with the aid of a short crutch, on which he rested with both his hands. In Eoman Catholic countries the church-door is open and a heavy curtain excludes the light and heat ; and there lie about those figures in rags, singularly pic- turesque. In short, the priests in their rich habiliments, stu- diously arranged for effect, — the costume of the monks of the order of St. f rancis and the Capuchins, — the men and women from the country, and the mendicants prostrate in the churches, and in circumstances as to light and shade, and colour, nowhere else to be seen, — have been, and are, the studies of the Italian painters. Again, in passing from the galleries of Eome to the country and villages around, we cannot doubt where Eaphael and Domenichino found their studies and pret- tiest models. The holyday dress of the young women in the villages is the same with that which we see in 3ieir paintings; and as each village has something Castinguishing and characteristic, and still picturesque h. its costume, much is left for good taste ■'o select and combine. 16 INTEOUnOTION, Wlion a man of genius, nurtured in liis art at Kome, where everything conspires to make hiin value his occupations, returns home to comparative neglect, he is not to be envied. He wants sympathy and associates. David Allan, the Scottish Hogarth,* in a letter to Gavin Hamilton, whom he had left in Eome, laments ihe want of living models, and the defective sensibility of his countrymen. He says, we rarely see in this country a countenance like that of a Franciscan or an Italian beggar, so full of character, so useful to the study of history painting. But, he adds, we have nature, and with the assistance of ancient models and casts from the Greek statues, much may be accom- plished. * See his beautiful edition of the " Gentle Shepherd." While a child, I remember him as a kind and somewhat facetious old gentleman, but chiefly because he gave me drawings to copy and called mo " Brother Bruuh." ( 17 ) ESSAY 1. OF THE TEEMANENT FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACE, 1 Jf CONTRADISTINCTION TO EXPRESSION. Much has been written, and gracefully and agreeably written, on the sonrces of Beauty ; yet 1 cannot help thinking that, by losing sight of nature, and what may be justly called the philosophy of the subject, the right principle has not been attained. Beauty of countenance may be defined in words, as well as demonstrated in art. A face may be beautiful in sleep, and a statue without expression may be highly beautiful. On the other hand, expression may give charm to a face the most ordinary. Hence it appears that our inquiry divides itself into — the permanent form of the head and face ; and the motion of the features, or the expression. But it will be said, there is expression in the sleeping figure, or in the statue. Is it not rather that we see iu these the capacity for expression ? that our minds are active in imagining what may be the motions of these features when awake or animated ? Thus we speak of an expressive face before we have seen a movement grave or cheerful, or any indication in the features of what prevails in the heart. Avoiding a mere distinc- tion of words, let us consider first, Why a certain pro- portion and form of face is beautiful, and conveys the notion of capacity of expression ; and, secondly, the movements or the actual expression of emotion. I believe that it is the confusion between the capacity of 18 FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACK. expression, and the actual indication of thought, which is the cause of the extraordinary difficulty in which the subject is involved, and which has made it to be called a mystery : La heaute est un des plus grands mysteres de la nature. A countenance may be distinguished by being ex- pressive of thought ; that is, it may indicate the pos- session of the intellectual powers. It is manly, it is human ; and yet not a motion is seen to show what feeling of sentiment prevails. On the other hand, there may be a movement of the features, and the quality of thought, — affection, love, joy, sorrow, gratitude, or sym- pathy with suffering, — is immediately declared. A countenance which, in ordinary conditions, has nothing remarkable, may become beautiful in expression. It is expression which raises affection, which dwells plea- santly or painfully on the memory. When we look forward to the meeting with those we love, it is the illuminated face we hurry to meet ; and none who have lost a friend but must acknowledge that it is the evanescent expression, more than the permanent form, which is painfully dear to them. It is a prevailing opinion that beauty of countenance consists in the capacity of expression, and in the harmony of the features consenting to that expression.* The author of the " Essays on the Nature and Prin- ciples of Taste " denies any original or positive beauty to the human countenance. Those who have professedly wi-itten on the antique * Great names may be quoted— Plato, Cicero, and St. Augustin, down to our own professors. " Et ut corporis est qusedam apta figura membrorum, cum coloris quadam suavitate, eaque dicitur pulchritude : Sio in auimo opiniouum judiciorumque EequabUitas, et oonstantia, cum firmitate quadam et stabilitatu pulchri- tudo vocatur."— Os'oero. Burton, in the Objects of Love, quotes thus : — " Pulchritude est perfeetio oompositi, ex congruento' ordvne meueura et ratione partium oonsurgens." ' FOEM OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 19 Bay, that, to arrive at the perfection of the ancient statue, the artist must avoid what is human, and aim at the divine.* But we speak of what stands materially before us, to be seen, touched, and measured. With what divine essence is the comparison to be made ? When the artist models his clay, he must have recourse to some abstract idea of perfection in his own mind; whence has he drawn his idea of perfection? This brings us to the right path in the inquiry : the idea of representing divinity is palpably absurd ; we know nothing of form but from the contemplation of man. The only interpretation of divinity in the human figure, as represented by the ancient sculptors, is, that the artists avoided individuality ; that they studied to keep free of resemblance to any individual ; giving no indication of the spirit, or of the sentiments or affec- tions ; conceiving that all these movements destroy the unity of the features, and are foreign to beauty in the abstract. In proceeding to define beauty, all that the writers CD art have been able to affirm is, that it is the reverse of deformity. Albert Diirer so expresses himself. If we intend the representation of beauty, then let us mark deformity, and teach ourselves to avoid it. The more remote from deformity, the nearer the approach to beauty. So Mengs : " La hellezza e V opposito della bruttezza." Leonardo da Vinci attributed much to com- parison. He searched for ugliness. If he saw an uncommon face,— if it were a caricature of expression, — he would follow it, and contrive to look at the indi- * " Se la figura era humana, vi facevano tutto quelle, che appap- tiene alia propriety, e qualita dell' uomo. Se poi era divina, esse tralasciavano la quality uraane e soeglievano unicamente le divine." — Mengs. Again, Winc-kelmann, "La beaute Bupreme,' reside en Dleu. L'ide'e de la beaute' hnraaine se perfectlonne h, raiaon de 6a conformity et de son liarrtionie aveo I'Etre Suprtoe," ifec. — • Winckelmanit Eistoire de I'Art. C 2 20 FOKM OF THE HEAD AND FACE. vidual in all aspects. He would pursue a curiosity of this kind for a whole day, until he was able to go hori;e and draw it.* We have here the practical result of ti.e theory, which is, to study the deformities, in order to learn to avoid them ; and certainly the effect was admir- able, since we know, as his biographer has written, that his painting of beauty raised love in all beholders.f If a painter entertains the idea that there is some undefined beauty, distinct from nature, which is in his (jwn mind, his works will want that variety which is in nature, and we shall see in his paintings the same countenance ccmtinually reproduced. AVe are informed that Eaphael, in painting the head of Galatea, found no beauty deserving to be his model ; he is reported to have said, that there is nothing so rare as perfect beauty in woman ; and that he substituted for nature a certain idea inspired by his own fancy. This is ii * "Piglio tanto gusto nel dipingere cse bizzan'e et alterate, die s' egli s' imbatteva in qunlch** villano che con vian strano et alquanto fuor del ordinarin, dasse un poco nel riiS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. the alveoli or sockets of the front or incisor teeth of the tipper jaw. On this we can raise an oblique line, touching the sockets of the teeth and the most promi- nent point of the forehead, or of the frontal bone. This is the facial line of Camper; and by its obliquity it will be, to a certain degree, the measure of the relative proportion of the areas or spaces occupied by the brain and the face. Another line may be drawn, which will divide the brain-case from the face; commencing at the foramen of the ear, it will touch the upper margin of the orbit. On looking to these illustrations of Albert Diirer, it is apparent that he entertained and practised this mode of distinguishing the forms of the head. But the idea of the facial line was suggested to Camper on examining certain antique gems. He ob- PROPORTIONS OP THE HEAD AND PACE. 25 served that, in imitating these, the artists failed, from neglecting to throw forward the head, so as to make the line which touched the foi ehead and teeth nearly- perpendicular. For by this line he thought that he had got the key to the whole diflficulty, as marking the distinctions in the natural head, compared with the antique. He conceived that when he drew a profile' so that the forehead and lips touched the perpendicular line, he obtained the characters of an antique head. If, on the other hand, he let this line fall back, and accom-r modated the outline of the head to it, he diminished the beauty and perfection of the form. For example, if the line formed an angle of seventy, it became the head of a Negro ; if declining backwards still farther, by the depression of the brain-case, say to sixty^ it 26 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. declared the face of an ourang-outang ; and so, down to the dog. To a certain extent, this ingenious mode will he found useful. Had the Count Caylus been guided by it in his great work on Antiquities, his figures, in many instances, would have been better drawn. But even in respect to the state' of the human brain, this line does not fully answer the purpose. In the skulls of certain nations the depression of the forehead is so great, that the line drawn from the alveolar processes to the frontal sinus, does not even touch the frontal bone. Camper's position is this, — that as, by the diminution of the cranium and the further inclination of the facial PEOPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 27 line, the head is depressed in character to that of a Kegro ; so, by raising and throwing the skull upwards and forwards, until the facial line reaches the perpen- dicular, as on page 24, the great object is attained of Tesemblance to the antique head. But his own figures contradict his conclusion ; for, although he has thrown the head forward in them, even beyond the perpendicular of the facial line, yet, as he has preserved the features of common nature, we refuse to acknowledge their similarity to the beautiful forms of the antique marbles. It is true, that, by ad- vancing the forehead, it is raised ; the face is shortened, and the eye brought to the centre of the head. But with all this, there is much wanting, — that which measurement or a mere line will not shew us. The truth is, that we are more moved by the features than by the form of the whole head. Unless there be a conformity in every feature to the general shape of the head, throwing the forehead forward on the face produces deformity ; * and the question returns with full force : — How is it that we are led to concede that the antique head of the Apollo or of the Jupiter is beautiful, when the facial line makes a hundred degrees with the horizontal line ? In other words. How do we admit that to be beautiful which i» not natural? Simply for the same reason that if we discover a broken portion of an antique, a nose, or a chin, of marble, we can say, without deliberation, this must have belonged to a work of antiquity which proves that the character " On the following page T liave sketched the profile of a poor begging Negro in contrast with the head of M. Agrippa, in which the artist has dignified the character on the principle stated by Camper ; but, it is here apparent that the manly dignity results from the character of each feature, even more than from the facial line. It is seen in the eye, in the nose, mouth, and chin ; each of which are in as much contrast with those of the Negro, as is th«t shape of the 'vhole head. 28 PROPOETIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. is distinguishable in every part, — in each feature, as well as in the whole head. We must assume a new principle, and it is this — that in the face there is a character of nobleness observ- able, depending on the development of certain organs which indicate the prevalence of the higher qualities allied to thought, and therefore human. A great mistake has prevailed in supposing that the expansion of some organs in the face of man, marks a participation in the character of the brute : that the fully develoned nose indicates the grovelling propensities, and the "ex- tended mouth, the ferocity of the lower animals. Let us correct this misconception by considering the pro- perties or uses of the mouth. It is for feeding cer- tainly, but it is also for speech. Extend the jaws, project the teeth, widen the mouth, and a carnivorous propensity is declared ; but concentrate the mouth. a;ive to the chin fulness and roundness, and due form to^'the PEOrOE'IIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACK. 29 lips; shew fhrougli them the quality of eloquence, of intelligence, and of human sentiments, — and the noble- ness is enhanced, whicli was only in part indicated, by the projection of the forehead. Now, look to the antique head and say, is the mou^h for masticating, or for speech and expression of sentiment ? So of the nose. Here, even Cuvier mistook the principle. The nose on a man's face has nothing in common with the snout of a beast. The prominence of the nose, and of the lower part of the forehead, and the developnient of the cavities in the centre of the face, are all con- cerned in the voice. This is ascertained by the man- liness of. voice coming with the full development of these parts.* Nothing sensual is indicated by the form of the human nose ; although, by depressing it and joining it to the lip, — the condition of the brute, — as in the satyr, the idea of something sensual is conveyed. A comparison of the eye and the ear brings out the principle more distinctly. Enlarge the orbit, magnify the eyes ; let them be full, clear, piercing, full of lire, still they combine with the animated human counte- nance ; they imply a capacity consistent with human thought, a vivacity and intelligence partaking of mind. But large pendulous ears, or projecting and sharp ears, belong to the satyr ; for man is not to be perpetually watchful, or to be startled and alarmed by every noise. If we consider for a moment what is the great mark of distinctio-i between man and brutes, we shall perceive that it is SP.EO.i ; for it corresponds to his exalted intellectual and moral endowments. Speech implies certain inward propensities, a conformity of internal organs, and a peculiarity of nervous distribution ; but it also implies a particular outward character or phy- siognomy, a peculiar form of the nostrils, jaws, mouth, * These cavities do uot exist in the ohi'd, and only attain theil f-iill size m tie a^lult 30 FORM AND PROPOETIONS OF THE SKULL, and lips. These latter are the visible signs of this high endowment. Then again, as to sentiment, — laughter and weejjing, and sympathy with those in pleasure or in pain, charac- terise human beings, and are indicated by the same organs. Hence, the capacity of expression in the nostril and mouth are peculiar attributes of the human countenance. SOME FUKTHER OBSERVATIONS ON THE FORM AND PROPORTION'S OF THE SKULL, AND BONES OF THE FACE. Let us return with more just principles to the study of the lines marking the regions of the face and head. A line drawn from the tube of the ear to the eyebrow, or prominence of the frontal bone, and one from the same point to the chin, include the face in a triangle. If another line be drawn to the lowest point of the AND BONES OF THE FACE. 31 nose, we divide the face into two regions; the lower occupied by the masticating apparatus of teeth, jaws, and their muscles. If this alone he enlarged, the effect is an encroachment on the nose and orbit, and the face loses all dignity and form. The eye is especially diminutive, and the nose misshapen. It will be found that the jaws correspond with the general skeleton ; very tall men, especially if gigantic, iave large jaws, and comparatively small heads. In rickety deformity of the bones, the character of the face is exhibited, as in this sketch, by a defect in the size of the jaw-bones, which have yielded to the action of their muscles. The qualities of mind, evinced in expression, may redeem any degree of deformity ; but the peculiarity of the countenance here, is that of rickets; the prominence of the forehead arises merely 32 FOKM AND PEOrORTIONS.OF THE SKTJLL, from tlie accumulation of bone, and not from a suporior development of the brain. We have a further oppor- tunity of observing that the projection of the facial line, unaccompanied with due conformity of features, only adds to the deformity.* Blumenbach, dissatisfied with the facial line of Camper, contrived a different mode of distinguishing the capacities of the head and face. He selected two bones of the skull ; the frontal bone as representing the development of the cranium or brain-case ; and the superior maxillary bone, as the seat of the organs of sense, which are considered as opposite to the intellectual properties. He placed the vertex of the skull towards him, so as to look over the brow or forehead ; and then he noted how much the bones of the cheek, the nose, and the upper jaw projected beyond the level of the frontal bone. This method he used as better suited to mark the peculiarities of the national * " In visiting the Villa Albani, among the indescribable beauties which are everywhere around us, the party was amused with my attention being fixed upon the statue of a deformed person. I was indeed struck with the truth of the representation: the manner in which the ribs are distorted, the head sunk upon the breast, and the exflggeration of certain muscle-s, consequent upon displacement of the bones. I was thinking of the accurate con- ception which the ancients had of human anatomy, and the precision w.th which they copied from nature. " Tliid is said to be a statue of Esop, and on referring to Visronti, where he treats of the fabulist, I see tiiat his engraving of the statue, beautiful as it is, is deficient in what appeared to me a due correspondence in the countenance, and the distortion vi Uie body. On comparing it with a sketch I had made, I find that I have marked more distinctly the position of the head, tlie projection of the chin, and the fulness of the forehead charao- ttriotic of that defect in the face which arises from the jaw yielding to the action of the muscles during the age whtn the bones are soft. " Visconti discovers in the face u spirituality quite in contrast with that expression which the ancients give to buffoons, and dwarfs, whose physiognomy they always made ridiculous." — Nate from JourMii. AND BONES OF THE PACE. 33 head ; and to be employed in the skull rather than in the living head. It may be useful, but it is manifestly imperfect. The breadth of the face may be noted in this manner ; but it will better serve the purpose of the artist to draw the face in front, and to apply the principle already explained, in the profile. It was observed in the preceding pages, that the dif ferent plans of measuring the head might assist in pointing out the varieties in the form of the head ; but that none of them proceeded on a just principle for dis- tinguishing what is acknowledged by all to be beauti- ful in the antique. A circumstance to which Professor Gibson, of Philadelphia, then my pupil, first drew my attention, convinced me that the methods which physi- ologists had practised were very incorrect. He placed before me the skull of an European and of a Negro ; and resting them both on the condyles of the occipital bone, as the head is supported on the spine, it appeared that the European fell forward, and the African back- ward. This seemed remarkable, when both physiolo- gists and physiognomists were describing the greater comparative size of the face, as the grand peculiarity of the African head. I was desirous of investigating this matter further. The difficulty of finding a line by which to measure the inclination of the face would be removed, if we were to take the head as fairly balanced on the articulating surfaces of the atlas, or first bone of the spine ; but in the living body, it will not be easy %o fix the head in the eqiiipoise. Something may be attained by comparing the general position of the head, in the European and the Negro ; but nothing approaching to the accuracy which observation pretending to science, requires. To find a line which should not vary, but enable us to measure with correctness the angles both of the facial line, and of the line intermediate between the cranium D 34 FOKM AND PEOPOKTIONS OF THE SKDLL, and tlie face, I poised tte skull upon a perpendiculai rod, by passing tlie point through the foramen magnum into the interior of the skull, so that the upper part of the cranium rested on the point. By shifting the skull till the rod was exactly betwixt the condyles of the occipital bone, and in the centre of the foramen magnum, I procured the line which was wanted. I now divided into degrees, or equal parts, the great convexity of the cranium, from the setting on of the nose on the fore part, to the margin of the foramen magnum behind ; and having so prepared several skulls for adjustment on the rod, I began to make my obser- vations. In comparing the European skull with that of the Negro, the point of the rod in the latter touched the inside of the cranium several degrees nearer to the bones of the facfe, or more forward on the cranium, than the former. On measuring the angle of the facial line of Campei with this perpendicular line, in a European skull the most perfect in form of any I possessed, I found the difference to be ten degrees. The cause of the difference being much greater be- tween the European and African skull, in this way of measuring, than by Camper's plan is, that here the facial line has reference to the whole form and propor- tion of the head ; whereas in Camper's measurement it marks only the inclination of the face. We have now an explanation of the peculiarity in the position of the Negro's head, the upward inclina- lion of the face, and the falling back of the occipiit. X^id here too we have it proved, that it is an error to suppose the Negro head to be remarkable in character on account of any increase in the proportion of the boues of the face, to the cranium ; for the area of the boues of the face is in this way shewn to bear a less AKD BONES OF THE FACE, 35 proportion to that of the bones of the cranium, in the Negro than in the European head. My next object of inquiry was to find on what the distinctive character of the Negro face really depends. For to tha eye a Negro face appears larger, while in fact it is proved to be smaller than the European, con- sidered in relation to the cranium. I took off the lower jaw-bones from both the European and the Negro skvAl ; and then, in order to poise the skulls on the perpen- dicular rod, it was required to move both forward on the point of the rod. But it was found necessary to shift the Negro skull considerably farther forward than the European : the point of the rod thus removed baok- D 2 36 FOEM AND PROPOKTIONS OF THE SKULI,, ward on tlie scale, indicated tliat the lower jaw of the Negro bore a greater proportion to the skull than that of the European. The facial line was of course thrown farther backwards in both skulls on taking away the jaw ; but the jaw of the Negro being larger than that of the European, the inclination backward was greater in the Negro skull. Proceeding to take away the upper jaws, and then the whole bones of the face, the index on |he surface of the cranium shewed that the jaw- bones of the Negro bore a much greater proportion to the head and the other bones of the face, than those of the European skull ; and that the apparent magni- tude of the bones of the Negro face resulted from the size and form of the jaw-bones alone, while the upper bones of the face, and indeed all that had not relation to the teeth and mastication, were less than those of the European skull. In proceeding with these experiments, I changed the manner of noting the variations in the inclination oi the cranium ; because I perceived that an index, marked on the convexity of the skull, varied according to the form of the head. Preserving the principle, I measured the inclination of the cranium by an angle formed by the perpendicular line (a b) and a line (a c) inter- mediate between the cranium and the face. On poising the cranium on the rod, after taking away all the bones of the face, it appeared that the Negro cranium had the line elevated nearly ten degrees more than the European, I also found, on comparing the cranium of a child with that of an adult, that it was deficient in the relative proportions of weight and capacity on the fore part — that the line was depressed by the size of the forehead increasing in proportion to the advance in maturity. On looking attentively to these skulls, it was evi- dent that there were distinctions to be observed in the AND BONES OF THE PACE, 37 form of the cranium itself, independently of the propor- tions between the face and cranium ; that these varieties depended on the form of the brain, and proceeded (\ think we may conclude) ftom the more or less complete development of the organ of the mind. In the infant there is a deficiency of weight, and a less ample area in the higher and anterior part of the brain-case. I say less ample, only in comparison with that which we may estimate as the standard, viz., the adult European. In the Negro, besides the greater weakness and lightness in the bones of the whole skull, there is a remarkable deficiency of length in the head forward, producing a narrow and depressed forehead ; whereas a large capacious forehead is allowed to be the least equivocal mark of perfection in the head. Having been brought by this more accurate method of measuring the skull, to observe distinctions not only in the cranium and bones of the face, but in the face itself, and in the cranium independently of the face, I wished, in the next place, to consider more at large the varieties in the form of the face, and the cause of the secret influence of certain forms on our judgment of beauty. From the examination of the heads, both of men and brutes, and of the skulls of a variety of animals, I think there is reason to conclude, that the external character consists more in the relative proportions of the parts of the face to each other, than has been admitted. On first consideration we are apt to say, that in the beautiful form of the human countenance the likeness of the brute is inadmissible ; that wherever we see a resemblance to the brute in the form of the whole countenance, or in the particular features, it implies degradation. But this is true to a limited extent only : and how far it extends, the examination of the uses of the parts will inform us. 38 FOKM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL, We have therefore again to inquire, whicih are the i.obler features of the face, and which belong to the inferior functions. In examining the mouth and jaws of animals, we fchall be convinced that the form of the bones is adapted to the necessities of the creature, independently al- together of the sense of taste ; that in man, whose jaw- bones are smaller than those of other animals, this sense is most perfect, most exquisite in degree, and suited to the greatest variety in its exercise. Turning to the skulls of the horse and the lion, we shall see that the one is fitted for powerful mastication, and the other for tearing and lacerating, not for cutting or grinding ; and if we examine the form of the teeth more narrowly, we shall perceive that there must necessarily be a form of the jaw corresponding to these actions. In the lion, the tiger, and all carnivorous animals, much of the cha- racter of the face lies in the depth of the jaw forward ; beoaBse this depth is necessary for the socketing of the long canine teeth. When, on the contrary, the jaw is deep and strong towards the back part, it is for the firm sooketiijg of the grinding teeth, and is character- istic of the form of the head of the horse, and of all graminivorous animals. There is also a peculiar form of the head and distinct expression, in the rodentia, and such animals as have to pierce shells for their food, as the monkeys, which is produced by their cutting teeth being placed at right angles in their jaws, for the action of gnawing. Now it is certainly by that unconscious operation of the fancy, that associating power which has a constant influence on our opinions, that a human face with pro- tuberant jaws seems degraded to the brutal character ; that the projection of the incisor teeth especially gives a remarkable expression of meanness ; while the enlarge- ment of the canine teeth, as we see in the demons of AND BONES OF THE FACE. 39 llie Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, produces an air of savageness and ferocity.* Wlien we consider further the muscles appropriated to the motions of the jaws, we may comprehend why it should be thought a deformity when the zygoma (the arch of bone on the temple) is remarkably prominent. It is enlarged to permit the massy temporal muscle by which the jaw is closed to act freely, and its form cor- responds with the size of the jaw, and with the canine teeth. This will be "very evident if we place the human skull beside the skull of the horse, the lion, the bull, the tiger, the sheep, the dog, &c. It has already been said that a comparison of the area of the bones of the head and face in different animals will not inform us of the relative perfection of the brain in its exercise. But still we may recognize, in the form of the jaws and bill, the beast or bird of rapine ; in the breadth and extent of the central cavities of the face, the seat of the organ of smelling, tribes which hunt their prey ; in the prominent eye placed more laterally, timid animals which are the objects of the chase ; and in the large socket and great eyeball, the character of such as prowl by night. With these variations in the perfection of the outward senses, there are, no doubt, corresponding changes in the brain, and therefore, in the instincts and habits of animals. In obtaining a line which shew^ with precision the bearings of all the parts of the head, I think that I have reduced this subject to greater simplicity; and have been able to make observations more correctly than by the methods hitherto in use : — I have shewn that the relative capacity of the cranium or brain-case to that of the face, as containing the organs of the senses, is insufficient to mark the scale of intellect, or to explain the distinctions of character in the human head : — That ♦ Faery Queen, Book IV. cant. vii. 5. 40 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKTJLL, the perfection of tlie human head greatly consists in the increase of the cranium forward ; in the full and capacious forehead ; and that the cranium of the Negro, when compared with the perfect cranium of an European, has less capacity at the fore-part.* It has been shewn that in the Negi-o the whole of the face is actually smaller instead of being greater, when compared with the brain-case, than that of the European ; but that the jaws, contrasted with the other parts of the face, are larger. The conclusion to which these views lead is, that some principle must be sought for, not yet ac- knowledged, which shall apply not only to the form of the whole head, but also to the individual parts. This principle, I imagine, is to be found in the form of the face as bearing relation to its various functions; not those of the senses merely, but of the parts contained in or attached to the face — the organs of Mastication, the organs of Speech, and the organs of Expression. And here it is to be observed, that it is not necessarily a deformity that a feature resembles that of a lower animal. In our secret thoughts the form has a reference to the function. If the function be allied to intellect, or is connected with mind (as the eye especially is), then there is no incompatibility with the human coun- tenance, though the organ should bear a resemblance to the same part in a brute ; but, if it has a relation to the meaner necessities of animal life, as the jaws, or the teeth, the effect is incompatible, and altogether at variance with human physiognomy. If we take the antique as the model of beauty in the human head, we shall confess that a prominent cheek- * In comparing the skulls of men with those of brutes, e g. the chimpanzee, it cannot be just to mesisure the proportions of tha cranium behind the foramen of the occipital bone ; for that forami n must correspond with the spine on which the head rosts ; and the position of the animal, monkey, or quadriiped, must determine the counuxion of the spine and skull. AND BONES OF THE FACE. 41 bone, or a jaw-bone large and square behind, is a defect ; that the great depth of face, produced by the length of the teeth, is also a deformity ; that the projecting jaws are still worse ; and, above all, that the monkey-like protrusion of the fore-teeth takes away from the dignity of human expression. When the principles that sway our secret thoughts are discovered, and when by a comparison of the parts of the head anatomically, a secure foundation is laid fur the accurate observation of nature, the lines of Camper and Blumenbach will aid us in the examination of cha- racter ; but these methods of measurement are, of them- selves, imperfect, and, being founded on a mistaken principle, they lead to unsatisfactoi y conclusions. ( 42 ) ESSAY II. OHANGKS FROM INFANCY TO AGE. OF THE SKULL, AS PRO- TECTING THE BRAIN. OF THE CHARACTERS OF BRUTES, NATIONAL PECULIARITIES. The bones, and the parts which cover them, or are con- tained within them, grow, as it were, by one impulse, so that they correspond together ; the fleshy lips of the Negro are suited to his large protuberant teeth. Among ourselves, a square jaw-bone is attended by a thickness and heaviness of the cheeks and Hps ; and if the canine teeth, the strong corner teeth, be unusally long and prominent, there is not only a coarseness and heaviness of a different kind, but a certain irascibility of expres- sion. In women and young persons with large incisor teeth there is a pretty fulness and ripeness of the lips. The whole character of the face of a child results from the fleshy parts and integuments being calculated, if I may use such a term, for the support of larger bones than they possess in early years. The features are provided for the growth and development of the bones of the face, and hence the fulness, roundness, and chubbiness of infancy. There are some other peculiarities in infancy. For example : the head is of an elongated and oval form, its greatest length being in the direction from the forehead to the occiput ; the forehead is fuU, but flat at the eye- brows, and the whole part which contains the brain is relatively large ; the jaw-bones, and the other bones of the face, are diminutive ; the neck is small compared b CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE. 43 with the size of the head, owing to the peculiar pro- jection of the back of the head (or occiput). Compare the outline of the infant's head with that of the boy, and the effect of the expansion of the bones of the face in bestowing the characteristic form of youth, will be apparent. The face in the youth is lengthened, and is less round than that of the infant. The brow, however, is not enlarged in proportion to the increase of the lower part of the face ; though the form is so far changed that a prominent ridge is now developed along the course of the eyebrows. This ridge (the supra-obitary) is caused by a cavity, which is formed in this part of the head by the layers of the frontal bone (or os frontis). It is the enlargement of this cavity (called the frontal sinus) that makes the prominence over the eyes which is peculiar to manhood. Prom infancy to adolescence, there is a great in- crease in the size of the upper jaw-bone (the superior maxillary bone). This is chiefly owing to its con- t lining within it another cavity (the maxillary sinus) ; 44 CHANGES FEOM INFANCY TO AGE, which, like the frontal sinus, becomes greatly developed with advancing years. And there are several new characters given to the countenance by the enlargement of the upper jaw-bone which may be regarded as the centre of the bones of the face. It has the effect of raising and lengthening the bones of the nose, and of making the cheek-bones (or ossa malas) project farther.* The growth of the large teeth in the adult, contrasted * The cavities in the frontal and maxillary bones communicate with the nose, and assist in giv'ug the sonorous, manly tunes to the voice. They are very small in women, as they are in children. CHANGES FKOM INFANCY TO AOE. 4b with the child, adds to the depth, as well as length, of both the upper and lower jaw-bones, and the whole face becomes consequently longer. Another necessary effect is, that the angle of the lower jaw recedes more towards the ear, and acquires more distinctness. Thus it is, that by the growth of the teeth and of those processes of the bones which support and fix them (the alveolar pro- cesses), and by the lengthening and receding of the angle of the jaw, a manly squareness of the chin and lower part of the face takes the place of the fulness and roundness of childhood. This view of the skull at different periods of life suggests another observation, relating to the characters of age. When the teeth fall out in old age, the sockets which grow up along with them waste away. Accord- ingly, while the depth of the lower jaw-bone, from the hinge to the angle, is undiminished, and its length to- wards the chin is the same, there remains nothing at the part where the teeth were implanted but th* narrow base of the jaw. The effect on the countenance is per- ceived in the opposite sketch. The jaws are allowed to approach nearer to each other at the fore-part ; the angle of the lower jaw comes of course more forward, and resembles that of the child, were it not that the chin projects : the chin and the nose approximate, the lips fall in, the mouth is too small for the tongue, and the speech is inarticulate. Before leaving this subject, we may point out a defect in the sculptures of Fiammingo, who has been justly celebrated for his designs of boys. In his heads o{ children, it is obvious that he intended to present us with an ideal form, instead of a strict copy from natiire. But it will be remarked, that the eyes are too deeply set in his figures. He has made the prominences over the orbits (the supra-orbitary ridges), which are peculiar tc a more advanced age, distinct features in the child, 46 OP THE SKULL, AS PKOTECTING THE BEAIN. and has tkus produced an unnatural appearance. The only character of the boy which he has kept true to nature is the largeness of the head compared with the face, the fulness of the cheeks, and the falling in of the mouth and chin. In exaggerating the natural pecu- liarities, the artist has strictly imitated the antique. But it may remain a question, how far the principle which is so happy in its effect of heightening the beauty of the adult countenance, is necessary or allowable in designing the forms of childhood? OF THE SKULL, AS PROTECTING THE BRAIN. In touching even slightly on this subject, we must attend to certain principles. It is to be understood, that a shock or vibration passing through the brain proves more destructive than a wound penetrating its substance. A skull stronger, thicker, and more solid than that which we possess would not have given greater security : it would have vibrated to a greater degree, and the concussion arising even from trifling blows on the head, would have effectually benumbed the faculties. A child bears knocks which would be fatal in old age. This is owing to the skull being thin, uniform in texture, and elastic, in childhood ; and to the brain being of a coriesponding stiucture. The brain is at this age soft to a degree that would be unnatural in mature years. This resiliency of the skull, and yielding quality of the brain, explain bow the child is uninjured by blows, which would be attended with fatal concus- sion in after-life. But there is also a provision in adults for moderating the effects of such accidents. In proportion as the brain acquires firmness during growth, OF THE SKULL, AS PEOTSCTING THE BRAIN. 47 a gradual change takes place in the structure of the bones of the head ; the protecting cranium is not simply strengthened ; it is not merely thickened ; the tiat bones which surround the brain are split into layers, an external and an internal one. These layers have each a different density, and a softer substance than either is interposed between them ; the effect of which is, to in- terrupt that vibration which would otherwise ring aroun d the skull, and reach every molecule of the brain. I have elsewhere * shewn that, in brutes, as in man, the processes and joinings of the skull are formed in relation to the forces to which the head is to be ex- posed ; and that they vary according to the habits or mode of existence of the animal. The tearing fangs of the carnivorous animal, and the still more powerful teeth of the hyena, adapted for breaking the hardest bones, are implanted in sockets of corresponding strength. The horns of the bull, the antlers of the stag, are rooted in bones not only capable of support- ing their weight, but of receiving the shocks to which such instruments expose the brain ; and the firmness of the STittires in the crania of these animals demon- strates the precision with which everything is set in just proportion. A remark is here suggested by these considerations. The provisions which we have been noticing in the human head are not designed to give absolute security against violence, but to balance duly the chances of life ; leaving us still under the conviction that pain and death follow injury ; so that our experience of bodily suffering, and fear of incurring it, whilst they protect the life, lay the foundation of important moral qualities in our nature. Let 11^ now direct our attention especially to the • Paley's " Natural Theology,'' with illustiatiTe notes by Henry Lord Brougham and Sir Charles Bell. 48 OF THE SKULL, AS PEOTECTING THE BBAIN forms of the skull. The back of the head is more ex- posed than the forehead : we defend the front with our arms and hands : not so the back, as in falling hack- wards. There is, accordingly, a very marked distmc- tion in the strength of the occipital bone and that of the frontal bone. The prominence felt at the back part of the head is the centre of certain groinings, or arched ridges, which strengthen the bone within. We say groinings, for there is nothing more resembling the strong arches, or groinings, of an nndergroimj storey of a building than these projections on the in- terior of the occiput. In front, the skull forms, on the whole, a lighter and more delicate shell than behind ; yet it is not less adapted to protect the brain. The projecting parts of the forehead, which the anatomist calls the emineniice froniales, are, undoubtedly, most ex- posed ; but they are, at the same time, the strongest points of the bone, for here the outer and inner surfaces are not parallel ; there is an accumulation of bony sub- stance in the two tables, to give them increased thick- ness. It has already been seen that the prominences over the eyebrows, characteristic of the mature or manly forehead, have no relation to the form of the brain at this part ; they are merely the anterior walls of the frontal sinuses, — cavities which, it has been stated, belong principally to the organ of vcice ; yet they and the ridges which project towai-ds the temples, are a safeguard to the brain. Those latter raised arches, called the temporal ridges of the frontal bone, consist of dense and hard bone, as obviously designed for adding strength, as is an edging of brass, in carpentry, or a piece of steel let into a horse-shoe. Imagine a man falling side-wise, and pitching on the shoulder and side of the head,— he strikes precisely on that point which is the most convex, the most dense, the thickest, and best protected- OHAEACTERISTIO T^OKMS OF LOWEE ANIMALS. 49 Altogether, independently of phrenology, it has of old time been acknowledged, that fulness of the fore- head, combined with those forms which have been noticed, is an indication of intellectual capacity ; and, as we have shewn, of human character and beauty. All physiologists have agreed in this view ; whilst they are equally confident in affirming that anatomy affords no foundation for mapping the cranium into minute sub- divisions or regions. As nature, by covering the head, has intimated her intention that we shall not there scan our neighbours' capacities, she has given iis the universal language of expression. Man is gregarious ; he looks for sympathy : it is not good for him to be alone ; he solicits an unity of sentiment ; and the language which expresses it is in the face. THE CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF THE LOWER ANIMALS. Notwithstanding the high authorities in favour of the facial line, we have ventured to say that it is not adapted to give a measure of the capacity or area of the head in contrast with the face, in brutes; because the peculiarities of face in them depend on their instincts and propensities. These are for the most part indicated by the greater development of some one or more of the organs common to them all, and the subser- viency of others, not by the mass of the brain. The head of the horse presents us with an example ; it is an herbivorous or graminivorous animal, and hence the peculiarities of its teeth. Kow, it is in accordance with the teeth that the whole character of its form is derived. The incisor teeth or nippers project, that the head may reach the ground for feeding ; and they have a peculiar structure, that they may be preserved sharp. 50 CHARACTEEISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS. The lips also conform to this object ; they are not only suited to cover the teeth, but to projecc and gather the food. Again, the grinders are large, strong, deeply socketed, and adapted to bear the trituration of the food for a term of years corresponding to the natural life of the animal. While the mouth is small, the head is long ; and the muscles which operate on the lower jaw, to close it, and to give it the lateral motions necessary fur grinding, are proportionably large; therefore the depth of the head behind, and the length and narrowness forwards, are the principal characteristics of the horse.* Another peculiarity of the horse's head is seen in the construction of his nostril. He does not breathe through the mouth, but only through the nose. Here is an interesting relation of parts, which, though remote in place, are united in function. The nostril is indicative of the state of the lungs : and a large dilateable nostril has descended from the Arabian breed, and marks the capacity of " wind." It is agreeable to see the young kid in the first hours of existence, impelled by its instincts to mount the cliffs and summits of the hills ; or to behold the goat perched high on the scarped rock, his beard tossed by the wind, * Cuvier has been at the pains of measuring the facial line in b great variety of animals, beginniug with the ourang-outang and em ling with the horse. Let us lake the pug-dog, in which the angle is fixed at 35°, and compare it with the horse at 23°; who will not perceive that the difference of the facial angles depends on tie extension of the jaws of tlie horse, necessarily arising from the form and number of the teeth, or, in other words, from his mode of feeding ? Veterinary surgeons and naturalists have found it difficult to assign a use for certain cavities at the back part of the horse's head called the Eustachian cells. To me they do not appear to be subservient either to neighing or to the organ of hearing, as supposed; but they are placed in this situation, and filled with air, to occupy the largo space intervening between the sides of the jaws, without materially increasing the weigl.t. All jockeys know the defect in a horse of a heavy head and long neck. CHAEAOTEEISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS. 51 and browsing fearlessly. These animals, the sheep, and horned cattle generally, congregate, and make a circle to oppose an enemy and present for their defence a combined front. Their eyes are placed differently from those of the horse ; and the nostril wants the expansion necessary for maintaining a continued flight. The most curious adaptation of the form of an herbivorous animal to its mode of feeding is seen in the giraffe. The whole frame of the creature is formed with the view of enabling it to reach its food, which is not the herbage, but the leaves of trees. The skull is small , and so light, even in comparison with that of the horse, that it is like a thing of paper ; and the tongue and the lips protrude to catch the branches over head. The large proiainent eyes, and the limbs formed for flight, betoken the timidity of the creature. If w^e compare a carnivorous animal, as the lion, with a homed animal, as the bull, it will be readily perceived that it is from the teeth or the horns that the whole character of the head results. The peculiarity of the skull of the lion, or the tiger, consists chiefly in the breadth of the face, caused by the large zygomatic processes, which are formed of great size to give room to the strong muscles that close the jaw : and it is visible also in the shortness of the muzzle, and the depth of the face in front, where the canine teeth are situated ; for these must be deeply socketed in the jaws to sustain the strength of the fangs, and the powerful efforts of the animal. The grinding-teeth are small, and formed so as to cut like scissors ; for there is here no lateral play of the jaws as in grinding ; the canine teeth overlap- ping and preventing that motion. The muscles which close the jaws are of tremendous power, commensurate with the length and strength of those fangs which are for folding or tearing the prey. See, again, the head of the boar, how all the parts £ 2 62 CHARACTEEISTIO OKGANf? OF MAN. hang, as it were, togetlier, to produce its characteristiu form : tlie snout and the great tusks are for grubbing up roots ; yet, from his strength, he is a formidable animal, for he will turn and rend. This very term implies a great deal ; he does not tear with his teeth, he does not butt as with horns ; but he runs straight forward, and with his projecting lateral tusk ploughs up the flesh. The whole strength of his body and neck is concentrated to the use of these formidable instruments. Look to the antique boar of the Florentine Gallery. The head lises high and projects behind, to give strong attacli- ment to the powerful muscles constituting his very peculiarly shaped neck, which is large, thick, inflexible, and suited, when he rushes forwards, to convey the impulse to the head, and finally to the tusks.* It ought to be a pleasing study to the artist to found his designs on an accurate knowledge of the structure and functions of animals. This pursiiit unites his art with the liberal sciences of the naturalist and the com- parative anatomist. And if ho be a lover of the antique, he must have observed that, in the better ages of the arts, the sculptors were remarkable for giving a true and natural character in their representations of brutes. The knowledge of animal form is the only guide to the right conception of the perfection and beauty of the antique. FtTRTHER ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPLE, THAT BEAUTIf IN THE HUMAS FORJI HAS RELATION TO THbl CHARAC- TERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. What, then, giN^es nobleness and grace to the human figure, and how is deformity to be avoided ? In the statues of antiquity we see that the artists had a perfect • "Brldsiewater Treatise on the Human Hand," Bolin's Library, CHAEACTEEISTIO ORGANS OP MAN. 53 knowledge of the frame, and could represent it in all ita natural beauty. But in many of these remains there, is something beyond an exact copy of nature, — some- thing which, as we hare seen, has been called divine. Now the difficulty of explaining why such deviations from real nature should inspire us with admiration, has forced inquirers into vague surmises and com- parisons. For example, they have applied the prin- ciples of harmony in music to the beauty of the human tigure. When the animal frame is surveyed as a whole, or as composed of parts more or less common to all living creatures, which is taking the philosophical view of the subject, an uniform plan is seen to per- vade the animal kingdom. Not only may the skeleton be traced from a shell up to the complex mechanism in man,* but every organ or individual part, when viewed comparatively, will be found to undergo a similar development ; from the simple structure of those creatures which enjoy the lowest kind of sensibility, to that which exists in the human frame. If, according to this view, we examine the head, and follow the course of development of the brain, as the part which occupies the cranium, and then that of the organs of the senses, which together constitute the face, and include the appa-ratus of speech, we shall distinguish what is peculiar to man. We shall learn what forms of parts bear relation to those endowments by which he holds his acknowledged superiority ; and the conclusion may be arrived at, that by magnifying, in works of art, what is peculiarly characteristic of man, we may ennoble his countenance, and, without being strictly natural, attain what is better. No faculties of the mind have been bestowed without • See the author's " Bridgewater Treatise on the Human Hand,"' wtiicb may be taken as an introduction to the present aubjeot. 64 CHAEACTEElSTrO ORGANS 01 MAN. tlie field for thoir exercise; men's capacities, theil thoughts, and their affections, have their counterparts, or ohiects, to excite or to gratify them. There are beings superior to ourselves, and in a condition of existence different from ourselves, and the mind de- lights m contemplating them. Even in our enjoyment of beautiful objects, our thoughts rise beyond them. We walk into the country, in the woods and wilds, in love with nature and delighting in solitude. But if we examine our minds, we shall find that we people these solitudes; however we may believe that it is nature and inanimate creation which please us, all is referable to, and concentres in, some reflexion of the voice and features of human kindred. In admiring the finer works of antiquity, it is ad- mitted that the forms which we regard as models of perfection are unlike what has existed in nature : that no living head ever had the facial line of the Jupiter, the Apollo, the Mercury, or the Venus. Having found reasons to reject the theory of Camper, the question returns. How is that beautiful which is not natural ? Let us take the head of Mercury, which is simply beautiful, and the head of a Satyr, both antique ; and contemplate them in succession. In the Mercury there is a combination of forms and general proportions of the head and face, never seen in all the varieties of living man ; yet is the whole and each particular feature per- fectly beautiful. In turning to the Satyr, we find every proportion reversed : the forehead narrow and depressed ; the eyes near, small, and a little oblique; the nose flattened to the upper lip ; the mouth protuberant ; the ears large, tipped, and sharp ; and the expression of the whole goatish and savage ; and what there is of human expression is lively and humorous, but common and base. Now the principle which has been followed in giving beauty to the head of Mercury ie obvious hera CHAEACTEEISTIC OEGANS OF MAN. 55 Wliatever is peculiar to the human countenance, as dis- tinguishing it from the brute, is enhanced. Not only is the forehead expanded and projecting, and the facial line more perpendicular, but every feature is modelled on the same principle ■ the ear is small and round ; the nostril is eminently human, and unlike that of the beast ; the mouth, the teeth, and lips, are not such as belong to the brute, nor are they the mere instruments of mastication, but of speech and human expression. So of every part, take them individually, or as a whole ; whatever would lead to the resemblance of the brute is omitted or diminished. The principle is further extended. It is not in the proportions between the face and the brain-case alone that the contrast is perceived, but in the quality or func- tion of each organ. We have adverted to the theory of Cuvier, that as hunger and the animal passions govern brutes, and as the parts which chiefly minister to them in the face, are the organs of smell and of taste, the unusual development of the nose and mouth degrades or brutifies the human countenance. But we remarked, in regard to this, that the nose is not elevated in man to increase the organ of smelling : it belongs to the voice, to human voice and speech. And so must we consider the different functions of the mouth. In brutes, it is for prehension, tearing, and mastication ; in man, its more distinguishable of&ce is speech and expression. Model the lips for this, for eloquence and the expression of the softer passions, and it becomes beautiful ; extend the teeth, and make the lips a mere covering for them, and it is brutal, at variance with human physiognomy and detracting from whatever is agreeable in the face. Our principle will apply with equal force to the motions of the face as to the permanent form. Human eentiments prevailing in the expression of a face, will always make it agreeable or lovely. Expression is 56 CHAEACTEKISTIC OKOAKS OF MAN. evou of more consequeBce than shape : it will light tip features otherwise heavy ; it will make ns forget all but the quality of the mind. As the natm-al tones i)f the voice are understood and felt by all, so it is with the movements of the countenance : on these we aj-e con- tinually intent, and the mind is ever insensiblj' exercised. Whethor the views which I have here advocated were ever announced by the ancients, I know not. But 1 think it is abundantly evident that their artists acted upon them. They went beyond mere imitation. They advanced to a higher study, that of combining excel- lencies ; selecting what was indicative of the higher and purer qualities, impassioned thought, and this they exaggerated. Their divinities were of hiiman mould ; but still as not visibly present they were creations of their imagination.* The explanation which I offer differs from what is * In high art it appears to have been the rule i>f the sculptor to divest the foim of expression. In the Apollo, there is such a stillness of features, that everyone follows his fancy, and thinks he sees in the statue what is really in his own mind In the Vtnus, the form is exquisite and tlie face perfect, but there is no express on there : it has no human soflnet^s, nothing to love. Mrs. saw a young gentleman, she thinks an American, kissing the tip.s of his fingers to the statue, as he left the tribune (the apartment dedi- cated to the goddess), but for this the statue gives no licence ; it would not have been unbecoming had he so saluted the Melpomene, for there we see the loveliness which lurks in expression. The authoress of an agreeable work on Eome is disturbed because " she has seen women, real living women, almost as beautiful as the Venus, and far more interesting." "We should find more of her way of thinking, if aU would confess their first impressions. This, however, cannot detract from the perfection of a statue, which has been admired in all times, as now. It only points to the purity of the design, the high aim of the artist, and its successful execution. Had the Helen of Zeuxis been preserved, I can imagine thiit it Would have been of a more feminine and seducing beauty than the Venus. But we must bear in mind that which I have taken notice of in the text, that all individual ty was studiously avoided by the ancient sculptors, in the representation of divinity ; they maintained the beauty of form and pr.'portion, but without expression, which, in their system, belonged exclusively to humanity. CHAEACTEEISTIC OKGANS OF MvN. 57 commonly given by writers on art. They oall the " ideal head " that which does not represent individual beauty, but collective beauties, a selection and adapta- tion of beautiful parts taken from a variety of indi- viduals, and combined in one representation.* I place the superiority of the antique on higher ground, on the more extended study of nature, of brutes as well as of man. That the true animal character was fully understood by the ancient artists there is sufficient proof. Is there anything finer than the wolf of the Capitol, or the antique boar, or the dogs in the entrance of the Florentine Gallery, or the horses of the Elgin marbles ? It was this study of pure nature that enabled them to undertake such compositions of surprising beauty, as we see in their Fauns, Satyrs, Centaurs, and masks, where the peculiarities of brutes are engrafted on the human form. And it may be remarked that they did not merely give to their sylvan deities hair and cloven feet ; they bestowed on them a certain consistency of character very difScult of execution, but necessary to reconcile the ej'e to the absurdity ; a goatish expression of countenance, or a merry festive air, all in conformity with the hair and the hoofs, their embrowned skin, and the savage wildness of their life.f What, then, was more natural or obvious, in studying the effect of these forms and characters when transferred * " Nous dirons done, que la ootribinaison des pavties peut fonner un toi.'t, et ce qu'on appelle Tideal." — Winokelmann. t The difficulty of giviiig these comljiuations of the human aud brute obaraoter, is shewn iu the attempts of moileni artists to imi- tate the ancients in thtir representations of Fauns aud sylvan boys. They do not seem to iinow how to knit their joints, and tUeIr f&jei are too sober and wise. " faber imus et ungues Expriiutt, et molles imitabitur sere capillos, Infelix opens sumrua, quia ponere totuui Nesciet." 58 CHAEACTEKISTIG OEGANS OF MAN. to the human countenance, than that the artist should perceive that the proportions which distinguish them should be avoided, or even reversed, in representing tne dignified and characteristic form of man ? Winckelmann would make it appear that the artists of Greece studied the forms of the lower animals for a different purpose : — to join the character of the brute with that of man, in order to embellish him, and to bestow on him new and preternatural properties. And he. refers to the heads of Jupiter and of Hercules as instances. " In the former," he says, " we may discover the great eyes, and imposing front, and the mane of the lion ; and in the latter, the head and neck of the bull." I must entertain doubts of this theory, and of the effect of the excessive exaggeration ; — in the head of Jupiter I have not felt its influence. But, if the theory be true, it goes to establish the fact, that the artists studied the form of brutes in comparison with that of man ; and I hold it to be an inevitable consequence of such a comparison, that they shoidd discover that the perfection of the human form was to be attained, by avoiding what was characteristic of the inferior animals, and increasing the proportions of those features which belong to man. 1 shall not deny ingenuity to the theory of Hogarth, or usefulness to that proposed by Sir Joshua Eeynolds. But there is danger to the modern artist, if he is led to conceive that he can bestow beauty by following some fancied curve or gradation of outline. Sir Joshua held that beauty is the medium, or centre, of the various forms of individuals : that every species of animal has a fixed and determinate form, towards which nature is tontinually inclining, like lines terminating in a centre, or pendulums vibrating in different directions over a single point : as all these lines cut the centre, while only one passes through any other point, so he conceived THEOEIES OP IDEAI, BEAUTY. 59 tliat perfect teauty is oftener produced than any one kind of deformity. This ingenious idea is well suited to the portrait-painter, who will not be a favourite unless he knows how to soften the features and pi-eserve the likeness. But there is this fatal objection to it ; that, as in the antique the artists deviated from nature, the pendulum would never reach the centre. It is happy for philosophy, science, history, poetrj-, and eloquence, that the Oreeks were a superior people, and happy for our subject that they were an eminently beautiful people. The artists of Greece certainly did not follow a vague line of beauty. They rather imitated some acknowledged beautiful form of age or sex. They even combined the beauty of both sexes, as in the young Bacchus, or more decidedly in the Hermaphrodite. With them, the highest effort of art was to represent man deified ; as it were, purified from the grosser cha- racters of nature. This they did, as we have already seen, by exaggerating whatever is proper to the human form : by increasing what gives dignity, and bestowing features capable of and prone to the expression of the finer emotions ; representing them, either as still and imperturbed, or as indicating a superiority to the things of this lower world. In painting, the representation of the Deity is always a distressing failure. If to represent Him who " became man," and " dwelt among us," be the highest effort of art, how is the Creator to be represented? Michael Angelo painted the Deity boldly, and with the expres- sion of the indignant wrath of man. Eaphael repre- sents the Creator plunging into chaos * and separating the elements. But on viewing these paintings, we are brought to feel the insuificieucy of the art, and to think of the artist to the exclusion of all sublime con- templations which the subject should inspire. Yet it * In the Gallery of Kaphael, in the Vatican. 60 THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. is foolish, to call such attempts impiety, since no other idea is presented than that which is inculcated from our infancy. Our expressions in words are at variance with our just conception of Divine Intelligence, and our tongue as imperfect as the pencil of the painter. The one solitary expression in the Scriptures descriptive of the person of God is studiously obscure, and the accom- paniments of His presence, not the countenance of the Almighty, are descrihed. The sentiments of Plato, Cicero, and Seneca, are brought to bear on this subject of beauty and ideal perfection. Yet it is fortunate that we have the works of the ancient sculptors before us, to preserve us from the influence of vague theories. Cicero has given us his conception of a perfect orator. " And such an ideal person," he says, " may be the object of imitation ; but those who imitate can only approach the model according to the talents which nature has given them. No man can possess all the qualities, or attain to the whole perfection of the model ; he must in some one respect be deficient. His knowledge and capacity of research, his acquaintance with human character, his insinuating or commanding language, or his eloquent appeal to the heart, his coun- tenance and expression, his voice, manner, gesture, cannot be all equally balanced so as to constitute the perfect orator." And he illustrates his position by the example of Phidias, who, when he made the statue of Jupiter and Minerva, took no individual for his model, but had an idea of perfection in his own mind.* * In the following quotation, Brutus has asked Cicero what constitutes excellence lu oratory. He answers, that no man has been perfect; that there is an ideal perfection which we should attempt to attain, nor resign the effort because to accomplish all is impossible ; just as there is nothing beautiful which may not in imagination be surpassed : — " Sed ego sic statuo, nihil esse in uUo genere tam pulchrum, quo non pulchrius id sit, unde illud, ut ex ore aliquo, quasi imago, ex- primatur, quod neque ooulis, neque auribus, neque ullo sensu peroipi THEOEIES OF IDEAL BEAUTV. 61 Here I conceive is the source and the authority for all which has been written on this view of the subject. The great artist had formed a conception of beauty: the question perpetually returns, By what studies, by what theory, had he attained this ? The perplexity appears to me to proceed from a distinction being made between the pleasures of the mijid, and those addressed to the senses. Plautus says that the poet seeks what nowhere exists, and yet finds it. His genius supplies it, it is in his mind. The novelist who has genius to catch and to re- present the feelings of men, and their motives to action, may give a truer picture of his period than the historian, even although he describes what never existed. 'J'hat is to say, the incidents, the passions, the prejudices, which he describes, may never have been combined as he combines them ; but they are true to nature, and to the state of societj* in which he lives, and are, therefore, a record of the time. But this is not the rationale of the ideal in painting. Or we may illustrate this in another manner. When Zeuxis was employed on his Helen, five of the most beautiful women were before him, from whom he com- posed his perfect beauty. But it was not the object of the artist here to produce ideal beauty, or to give that repose of sentiment which is the effect of contemplating potest; oogitatione tantum et mente compleotinmr. Itaque et PhMise simulacris, quibus nihil iu illo genere perfeotiua videmus, et his picturis, quas numinavi, cogitare tameii possumus pulchriora. Neo vero ille artifex, cum faoeret Jovis fnrinam, aut Minervse, con- templabatar aliquem, e quo similitudinem duceret: sed ipsiua in mente insidebat species pulehritudinis eximiaqn8edam,quatn iiituena, in eaque defixus, ad illius simUitudinem artem et manum dirigebat. TJt igitur in formis et fignris est aliquid perfeotum et excellens, eujus ad cogitatam speoiem imitando referuntur ea quae anb oculis ipsa cadunt : sic perfecta; eloquentise Bpecieni animo ridemog, effigiem auribus qusBrimus. ' — Cioebo de Oratore, cap. 2. 62 THEOEIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. the Medioean Venus ; his aim was to represent a beau- tiful and seductive woman, whose charms were to lead men to extravagance. And why have not painters with the same means attained to the same perfection? It has been answered — Because they have not had the same genius. On which M. Quatremere de Quincy observes, " What, then, is a model, if genius be still necessary in order to imitate it ? Who shall tell whether it is the model that causes genius to see the image of beauty ; or, genius that sees its ovm idea in the model ? " * There has been another theory advanced, that, in the antique statue there is presented to us the grandeur of form and the proportions of man, as he originally proceeded from the Creator : such as he was designed to be before he was subjected to labour, poverty, and sickness. But in the early times of all people, their gods have been represented by the trunks of trees, or pillars rudely carved ; and, when improved, it has been by imitating the human form with simplicity. At first, the head was carved as on a pedestal ; then the neck, breast, and shoulders, and the indication of sex ; then the arms and the extremities were imperfectly blocked out, until, at length, and after ages had passed, the members were displayed free, and the figure perfected in manly beauty. I shall once more endeavour to analyse that pj-ocess of thought by which, out of the contemplation of nature, ideal perfection is derived. The idea of the divine form • The same author thu3 expresses himself: "In this we have the enigma ot'Plautus solved; in every nrt, whatever conies within the scope of the understanding, of sentiment, and of genius, does ni t really exist anywhere ; has neither substance nor place, and is subjected to no one of the senses, while he who finds it is unable to point out where he has seen the model of it." Tliis is lunguiige which puffs up the young artist to inoi-dinata conceit : and, instead of studying, sets hin- a drt aming of something for wJiioli he is to be beholden to his innate genius. THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTT. 63. in the mind of any man, wliatever may be his genius, lias been acquired, and is of human origin ; and the attempts of all painters and sculptors to embody the idea in their works, evince that such is the case, 'i'hat a man of genius has an idea of perfection cannot bo the result of pure imagination. Whatever conceptions he may entertain must have been acquired ; and the question returns, How? Let us suppose a painter tp have before him the three Graces ; their perfections are not the same ; for to have full influence on the heart, we know that, however beautiful, each must be individual; that the form, the attitude, and the ex- pression must be varied, or the interest and grace are injured. The attempt of the painter to combine what is beautiful in each, into one more perfect, would, in my opinion, fail ; nature would be lost, and the whole prove inconsistent. At all events, the combination of individual human beauty, however made, and with whatever exercise of genius contrived, would not pro- duce what is aimed at, — ideal beauty, as exhibited in the remains of antiquity; a form which we acknow- ledge to be beautiful, but which has had no existence in life or in models. With the view of attaining beauty, the artist is not to slight nature or to avoid it, but to study it deeply, as the only source of improvement. He must not only contemplate those beauties which we may suppose to stand before him, but consider where they differ from others less admirable. How beautiful that smile How eloquent those lips ! Let him ask himself in what this consists. Smiling and speech are characteristic of man, and are bestowed to express the affections of the heart, and communicate thought. Give to the mouth the capacity for these. Observe the forehead, and the defined eyebrow : — What is there in nature superior ? 64 THEOEIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. Let liim mark them, and then raise and throw forward the forehead, a feature especially human, and elevating to the countenance. Now he sees that depth is given to the eye ; that the shadows fall with bold relief, the ej'ebrow acquires more freedom, stands in a finer arch, and is more expressive of agreeable emotions. And thus he passes from point to point ; from one feature to another, — the nose, the ear: exaggerating a little the outline of whatever indicates the higher and purer qualities, and avoiding what is low, or whatever is associated with the baser human passions or with the form of the brutes ; and by insensible gradations, and long contemplation of what is highest and best, he acquires, and from nature, that idea which is, in his mind, the perfection of form. Supposing that a painter so tutored is set with his fellows to copy a model; by his knowledge of what constitutes humanity in its most perfect condition, and of what is indicative of human sentiment, he is enabled to elevate his design ; and then it is acknowledged that, whilst he has preserved the likeness, he has refined it, and has introduced something of the puiity of the antiqiie. Although 1 have taken the form of the head and the features for illustration, the principle is applicable to the whole figure. In comparing the finer forms of antique statues with those of the Athletfe, Lapithse, and Fauns, down to the brutes, we see that the grace, tlie repose, and the nobler attitudes of the human body, are preserved in the former, to the exclusion of what- ever belongs to individual character, or partakes, by association, of what is mean in condition. The Satyr and Faun are as mules and hybrids ; the man and the brute are joined ; sometimes with the horns and the hoofs, sometimes with nothing more dis- tinctive than the tail; and the conception is fulfilled NATIONAL PECULIAEITIES. 65 by tlie grossness of form, the muscular development and the proportions indicative of activity. But there is neither freedom nor grace of movement in the position of the body or limbs, nor in their proportions or contour. In short, we have the Apollo and Marsyas exhibiting a perfect contrast, and shewing that which is charac- teristic in the one reversed in the other. KATIOIfAL PECULIARITIES IN THE FORM OF THE HEAD. Sir David V\ ilkie, whose loss we have had so lately to deplore, was one of my earliest pupils, having at- tended a course of my lectures on anatomy, as connected with design. On returning from the Continent in August, 1840, I found him preparing for a journej' ; and he made me guess whither he was going. To Home ? — no. To Greece ? — no. Surely not to court fortune in India ? — no. He was setting off to the Holy 66 NATIONAL PEdULIAEITIES IN Land, to study there an Eastern people. In this, he displayed that energy which ever accompanies genius, How mnoh of character, in feature and costume, would he not have thrown into his future pictures ! Here we have a lesson from one entitled to sway our opinion on his art, of the importance of a knowledge of national forms to the historical painter. It is for this reason that I introduce a slight accoui.t of the varieties of the hu'nan head, depending on national peculiarities. It may assist the artist in the study of such natives of foreign countries as he may chance to meet with. Even in the most admired productions of art, I find little to which I can refer for elucidating this suhject. SculiJtors and painters have been too commonly content to characterize an inhabitant of the East by a tu*'t of hair on his crown ; or an African, by a swarthy face. There is a late publication that illustrates the qnestiun of national peculiarities in a very interesting way,— a folio volume which contains accurate portraits of the skulls of all the American races, from the old inhabi- tants of Mexico and Peru to those of the farthest north.* In considering the extraordinary collection of skulls in this work, with the view of marking the relation between the form of the head and superiority of mind, in men of cultivated intellect, as contrasted with those leading a savage life, it must be acknowledged that much is wanting. Although there can be no objection to the mode adopted by the writer of estimating the actual mass of brain ; yet his measurements ought to have been made in reference to the dimensions of the whole body. The size of the cranium, and consequently, the volume of the brain, must be relative to the face ; and the face can be taken only as an imjerfect index of the entire skeleton. If the cavity of the skull is to • " Crauiii A meiioana," by Dr. Morton. Professor of Anatomy in Pennaylvania College. THE FORM OF THE HEAD. 67 lie gauged, — if the quantity of sand or of seeds, wLich different crania are capable of containing, is to be measured, the comparison will not be satisfactory, un- less the measurement of each be contrasted with that of the face and of the body ; and be also examined with respect to the proportions of the brain itself, or its form. Again, it is taken for granted, that we who exercise our best faculties within the four walls of a house, must have a development of brain beyond what the free- dweller in the plains or forests of, what is termed, a new country can possess. I believe, on the contrarj'', that man, in his state of nature, has imposed upon him the necessity of bringing into operation quite as many faculties of mind as the man at his desk ; and that, from the brain being exercised in every use to which the external senses are put, its volume is not inferior to that of the individual in civilised life. We must take along with us this consideration, that the exercise of our external senses infers an accompanying activity of the brain : that of the nervous apparatus appro- priated to the senses, it is the exterioi jjart alone that is given to the eye, ear, nose, tongue : the internal part, forming the eensorium, is in the brain. Eemembering this, and that the powers exercised by the savage are not instincts, as in the brutes, but operations of the mind calling the brain into action, T am unwilling to grant that any measurable deficiency in its mass, as a whole, is likely to be perceived. Were it really so, we should find the gamekeeper inferior to his master in a greater degree than my experience warrants. Every one must have observed amone; those with whom he lives, that there is as siuoh variety in feature, stature, yilour hair, beard, &o., as thert, is in expression of countenance • and a very little philosophy will indicate the necessity of such varieties, for the constitution of F 2 68 NATIONAL PECtTLIAEITIES IN society. But in regard to national peculiarities, al- though the distinctions between individual of a par- ticular country are, doubtless, in many instances as great as between the people of one country compared with another ; yet there are certain forms of head, or casts of feature, or peculiarities of hair, and com- plexion, which characterize different nations. We need not here enter into the question, how these distinctions have been produced. Tt would require much critical examination to decide whether national ])ecu- liarities of form are owing to an original provision, by which the structure changes, and acquires distinctive characters under the influence of circumstances — such as of the various climates to which the first familits were exposed, on their dispersion from one centre ; or whether there are truly distinct races which had a conformation and constitution from the beginning, suited to the regions for which they were destined, and to which they were blindly diiven. All testimony agrees in shewing that mankind was first planted in Western Asia ; there, in the valleys, per- petual su mmer reigns ; there the vegetable productions bfest suited to man's nourishment are most abundant : there are the animals, in a state of nature, which are led by their instincts to yield themselves up to his use — the horse, the ass, the cow, the sheep, the goat, the camel, the dog ; and there the climate is so favourable to the human constitution, that even now we look to these countries for examples of perfection, both in feature and colour, of man himself. From this part of the globe, the varieties of man distinguished as to exterior form and complexion, may be traced divergingly : to this "point the sciences and arts may be followed back; and the study of the derivation of tongues, and of the grammatical cou- atruotio» of languages, does not negative the conclusion, THE FOEM OF THE HEAD. 69 but rather indicates that this part of the earth was the centre from which the nations spread. The grouping of mankind into races has occupied the ingenuity of many naturalists and physiologists, from the time of Buffon and Linnaaus to the present daj- ; but we rest principally on the authority of l^lumenbach. In. the valleys of the Caucasus, between the Black Sea and the Caspian, we may distinguish, in the Caucasian family, those features which, according to the views just presented, we should say were tho nearest to perfection. The skull is large and fully developed in front; the face is small, and the features well proportioned ; the forehead is elevated : the nose arched, or raised; the teeth perpendicular in their sockets ; the chin round, and the lips full of expression ; the skin fair; the eyes dark; the eyebrows arched; the eyelashes long ; and the hair varied in colour . The Circassians have long been noted for the beauty of the women, and for the imposing stature, elegance, and activity of the men : and the Georgians and other triV«8 are remarkable for personal beauty. From this centre, proceeding westward, we recognise the Europeans. The original inhabitants of Thessaly and Greece are designated as the Pelasgic branch : that enterprising and migratory people, who at an early period extended to Italy, and from whom descended the Etruscans. The Hellenes, or Greeks, receiving letters fiom the Phoenicians, surpassed all the nations of antiquity, in philosophy, literature, and art. The Greek face is a fine oval ; the forehead full, and carried forward; the eyes large; the nose straight; the lips and chin finely formed : in short, the forms of the head and face have been the type of the antique, and of all which we most admire. The modem Greeks are still distinguished by athletic proportions and fine features. 70 NATIONAI, PECULIAEITIES IN Tlie I'omau head differs from the Greek, in having a more arched forehead, a nose more aquiline, and features altogether of a more decided character; and this is even apparent in the busts of that people, as exhibited in the two splendid volumes of Visconti. The remarks of Bishop Wiseman on this bubject are important, as his lectures were delivered in Rome, and to persons who had only to step out of the college to ascertain their accuracy. Travellers have often stated that the countenances of the population beyond the Tiber exactly resemble those of the Eoman soldiers on the column of Trajan; but Dr. Wiseman observes correctly, that any one slightly acquainted with art, will soon be satisfied that the model on these historical monuments is really Grecian, and can give no aid in ascertaining the physiognomy of the ancient in- habitants of Italy. He bids us look to the busts and reclining statues of the ancient Eomans, carved on the sarcophagi, or to the series of imperial busts in the Capitol, where we shall discover the true type of the national figure, viz., a large, flat head, a low and wide forehead, a face broad and square, a short and thick neck, and a stout and broad trunk : proportions totally at variance with what are generally considered to be those of the ancient Koman. Nor have we to go far, if in Eome, to find their descendants ; they are to be met with every day in the streets, principally among the burgesses or middle class.* * " For my part, I looked for the type of the Koman solder among the Galleotti. Tliere was a body of these condemned men chained together, who where marched every evening from their work of rebuilding the great basilica of St. Paul's, beyond the walls. This church, which was burnt, stands some way out of Kome, and I walked beside and behind these bands ; and finer figures are not to bu conceived ; their loose dress, and the gyves upon their legs, gave to their air and attitude something formid- able. They seemed fit for the offices of a tyrant, and to subdue the world. I must ever remember one evening, when I saw thoas Till. FORM OF THE HEAD 71 The German race has been spread, from east to west, over a great part of Europe, blending with the Celts. It is separated into the Teutonic and Solavoniau families; their military enterprises form the history of the darker ages, when they came down upon the Eoman empire. Other hordes mingled with the Tartars ; and are recognised in history, as the people who broke in upon the Persian and the Eoman empires in the east. The Celtic Gaul of the Eomans gave residence to a race, which is now diminished to the _remnant living in the mountainous districts of the extreme west of Europe. The Mongolian Tartars occupy great part of the north of Asia and Europe. The ej'elids of this people are oblique, the nose is small and flat, broad towards the forehead ; the cheek-bones are high, the chin short, and the lips large and thick; the ears are flat and square; the general form of the head round. The Mongol Tartar tribes have become mixed with the neighbouring nations, and exhibit a variety of physio- gnomy. Hordes of this people invaded China, and settling in the north of that great empire have blended with the original Chinese. To the north-west, they mingled with the polar races, and have merged in the Kamschatkans and Tungusians; the Huns, whose incursions into more civilised Europe are recorded in history, were Mongol Tartars. The primitive Turks were also of the same men, with their mounted guards, passing under the Arch of Titus, and the broad shadow of the Colosseum. Dr. Wiseman says, in regard to the sculptures on that arch, that the profiles of Jhe soldiers shew that there was a rule, or model, adapted to the common men, and from which the artist might not depart ; whiie the figiu-e of the emperor, seated in his chariot, forms a strong contrast to them. Though his features are now quite effaced, enough remains of the outline to shew the full, heavy face, aad bulky head of a true Boman." — Notes from Journal. 72 NATIONAL PKCULIAEITIES IN race; but, by overmnniiig Circassia, Georgia, Greece, and Arabia, their physical character has been changed, and they have become a handsome people. The open nostril and short nose, which mark the Turkish coun- tenance, still betray their original extraction; their eyes are dark and animated, and the whole face is ex- pressive and intelligent. The Chinese skull is oblong, the frontal bone narrow in proportion to the width of the bones of the face. A(iCordingly the countenance is flat, and the cheeks expanded ; the eyelids are not freely open, and are drawn obliquely up towards the temples ; the eyebrows are black and highly arched ; the nose is small and flattened, with a marked depression separating it from ' the forehead; the hair is black, and the colnplexion sallow. The Malay race is scattered through the Indian Islands, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, Auiboyna, Celebes, the Philippines, Moluccas. The forehead, in the Malay, is prominent and arched, but low ; the orbits oblique and oblong ; the nasal bones broad and flattened ; the cheek-bones high and expanded ; the jaws projecting. The head is, altogether, large ; the mouth and the lips protrude; the nose is short, depressed, and flattened towards the nostrils ; the eyes are small and oblique. They are of a brown complexion, varying in the dif- ferent tribes. Some uncertainty prevails as to the race to which the ancient Egyptians belonged. This has arisen from the difficulty of reconciling the early and extensive knowledge of that people, with the acknowledged de- ficiency of capacity in the Negro. We might expect that the mummies and drawings in their pyramids and tombs should have long since decided the question; but the position of Egypt may account for the obscurity. Being oh the confines of two great continents, the THE FORW OF THE HEAD. 73 Egyptians became early a mixed people. Tlie skull is found to be well formed, and unlike that of the Ethiopian. The probability is, that the Negro was then, as now, a subjugated race.* The Greek applied the terms Ethiop and Indian to all the dark people of the south. By Ethiopian, we now correctly understand the different races which inhabit the interior of Africa; extending from the south of Mount Atlas and Abyssinia to the country of the Caffres and Hottentots. The general character of the Negro countenance is familiar to us. Of the great antiquity of the race there can be no doubt. When, indeed, the effigy of the Negro is found depicted on the ancient walls of Egypt, and vessels are dug up, the characters on which are read by modern Chinese, we may well despair of obtain- ing anything like a satisfactory history of the spread of nations, and the settlement of mankind in the different regions of the globe. The depression of the forehead and compression of the temples, which are distinctive of the Africans, although there be splendid examples of fine form among the nations of that con- tinent, mark them as a degraded race.'f Diverging still from the presumed central origin of * Blumenbaoh thinks that he can discover among the mummies the heads of the Ethiopian, the Indian, and the Besbers. Deiiou conceives that the female mummies indicate that the women of ancient Egypt had great beauty. t The great families of mankind are distinguished by colour as well as form and features. The Caucasian by white ; the African by black ; the Mongolian by olive, tending to yellow ; the Malay by tawny ; the American by brown, or nearly copper hue. The colour of the hair, and that of the iris partake of the colour of the skin. The Caucasian, with fair complexion, has red, brown, or light- coloured hair, and the eyes of different shades of grey and blue. In those of darker complexion, the hair is black and the eyes dark. In the Mongol, the hair is tliin, stiff, and stra'ght In the Euro- pean, soft, flexible, and flowing. In the Negro, thick-.-et, str.mg, ehoi't, anj curly. But in all races there spring up occasional VKi'iuties. r74 NATIONAL PECULIAEITIES IN mankind, we find the Polynesian family in the islands of the Paciflo Ocean. The inhabitants of these Isles are of middle stature, athletic, with heavy limbs. Their faces are round or delicately oval ; the nose is well formed, straight or aquiline, sometimes spread out, but not having the flatness of the Negro ; the fore- head is low, but not receding ; the eyes black, bright, and expressive ; the lips full, and the teeth fine.* In America, the same difficulties present themselves in relation to the origin and propagation of races as in the Old World. The most recent inquiries authorise the distinction of two families inhabiting America : first, a race called Toltecan, belonging originally to Mexico and Peru, which, from the shapes of the skulls found in the graves, and the accompanying relics, give, evidence of greater civilisation than belongs to th(j present natives ; and secondly, a people which extendinj; over the greater portion of the vast continent, embraces all the barbarous nations of the New World, except- ing the polar tribes, or Mongolian Americans, which are presumed to be straggling parties from Asia, such as the Esquimaux, Greenlanders, and Fins. In the native American, there is no trace of the frizzled locks of the Polynesian or the woolly texture on the head of the Negro. The hair is long, lank, and black ; the beard is deficient ; the cheek-bones are large and prominent; the lower jaw broad and ponderous, truncated in front ; the teeth vertical and very large ; the nose is decidedly arched, and the nasal cavities of great size. They ought not to be called the copper- coloured race. The colour is brown, or of a cinnamon tint. As in the Old World, the colour varies, and * It is amusing to find voyagers making distinctions here be- tween the plebeian and the aristocratic classes. But so it is every- where. Among the Lybians and Moors, as in the countries of Asia and Europe, the comforts and luxuries of life improve the phy- sical condition of man. THE FOKM OF THE HEAD. 75 tlie darkness does not always oorrespond to tlie climate or vicinity to the equator. Of the imperfect sketch of the varieties of mankind, which I have here presented, every sentence liiight be the text of a long essay. But in this, as in the whole volume, I have attempted only to awaken attention, and to make the reader an observer of what may pass before hiin ; giving him the elements on which his ingenuity or acumen is to be employed in his inter- course with society. ( 76 ) ESSAY IIL OK THOSE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION IN THE HUMAH COUNTB NANCE WHICH CANNOT BE EXPLAINED ON THE IDEA Of A DIRECT INFLUENCE OF THE MIND UPON THE FEATURES. " The heart of a man changeth his countenance, whether for good or evil." — The Son of Sieach. " I do believe thee ; I saw his heart in his face." — Shakspbabb. In the human countenance, under the influence of passion, there are characters expressed, and changes of features produced, which it is impossible to explain on the notion of a direct operation of the mind upon the features. Ignorance of the source of these changes of the features, or inattention to the cause which produces them, has thrown an ohscurity over the -whole of tliis subject, which it is my wish to remove. If, in the examination of the soiivces of expression, it should be found that the mind is dependent on the frame of the body, the discovery ought not to U. con- sidered as humiliating, or as affecting the belief of a separate existence of that part of our nature on which the changes wrought in the body are ultimately impressed. Since we are dwellers in a material world, it is necessary that the spirit should be connected with it by an organised body, without which it could neither feel nor re-act, nor manifest itself in any jray. It is a fundamental law of our nature that the mind shall ON THE SOURCES OF EXrEESSlON. 77 have its powers developed through the influence of / the hody ; that the organs of the body shall be tho links in the chain of relation between it and tho material world, through which the immaterial principle within shall be affected. As the Creator has established this connexion between the mind and external nature, so has He implanted, or caused to be generated, in us, variotis higher in- tellectual faculties. In every intelligent being He has laid the foundation of emotions that point to Him, affections by which we are drawn to Him, and which rest in Him as their object. In the mind of the rudest slave, left to the education of the mere elements around him, sentiments arise which lead him to a Parent and a Creator. These feelings spring up spontaneously; they are universal, and not to be shaken off; and no better example than this can be given of the adapta- tion of the mind to the various relations in which man is placed, or one that tends more to raise in us a con- ception of the Author of our being, and increase our estimation of ourselves, as allied to Him. This it is, perhaps, necessary to premise, when I am about to prove the extensive influence of the corporeal on the intellectual part of man. In examining the phenomena of the mind, philo- sophers have too much overlooked this relation between the mental operations and the condition of the bodily frame. It appears to me that the frame of the body, exclusive of the special organs of seeing, hearing, &c., I& a complex organ, I shall not say of sense, but which ministers, like the external senses, to the mind; that is to say, as the organs of the five senses serve to furnish ideas of matter, the framework of the body contributes, in certain conditions, to develop various states of the mind.* * But since the brain doth lodge the powers of sense, How makes it in the heari those passions spring ? — Dayieb. ^L 78 ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. In the affections which we call passions or emotions, there is an influence which points to the hreast as the part where they are felt. Some have asserted that they are seated in the bowels ; and the sensations I am about to describe have been arrayed as proofs that the affec- tions exist in the body. But that, I affirm, is im- / possible. They are conditions of the mind, and cannot be seated in the body, although they both influence and are influenced by it. We have learned enough to know that the impres- sions communicated by the external organs of sense belong really to the mind ; and there can be no doubt that there is a mutual influence exercised by the mind and frame on each other. This is not asserted on the nicre grounds that each aifection which is deeply felt, is accompanied by a disturbance in our breast ; nor on the language of mankind, which gives universal assent to this pi'oposition ; but it may be proved by circum- stances of expression, in which we cannot be deceived. I shall make it manifest that what the eye, the ear, or the finger, is to the mind, as exciting those ideas which have been appointed to correspond with the qiialities of the material world, the organs of the breast are to the development of our affections ; and that without them we might see, hear, and smell, but we should walk the earth coldly indifierent to all emotions which may be said in an especial manner to animate us, and give in- terest and grace to human thoughts and actions. By emotions are meant certain changes or affections the mind, as grief, joy, astonishment. That such states or conditions of the mind should in any degree pertain to the body, may not, perhaps, be willingly admitted, unless we take along with us that the ideas of sense, as light, sound, or taste, are generated by the organs of the senses, and not by any thing received amt oonv-3yed by them to the sen.sorium. It is ascertained ON THE 80UECES OF EXPRESSION. 79 that the different organs of the senses can he exercised, and give rise to sensation and perception, when there is no corresponding outward impression ; and the ideas thus excited are according to the organ struck or agi- tated : that is, the same impression conveyed to different organs of sense will give rise to a variety of sensations : as light, when the eye is struck ; sound, when the ear is struck ; and so on with the other organs ; the sen- sation corresponding with the organ which is exercised, and not with the cause of the impression. A needle passed through the retina, the organ of vision, will produce the sensation of a spark of fire, not of sharp- ness, or pain ; and the same needle, if applied to ihe papillae of the tongue, will give rise to the sense of taste ; while if it prick the- skin, pain will follow. This law of the senses is arhitrarilj' or divinely ordered ; it might have been otherwise. Accordingly, when we observe that the organs of the senses operate in pro- ducing specific ideas, independently of their own pecu- liar exciting causes, we can comprehend better how other organs of the body may have a relation established vsdth the mind, and a control over it, without reference to outward impressions. Let us consider the heart, in its oiEce of receiving the influence of the mind, and of reflecting that influence. It may, in the first place, be observed, that there is hardly an organ of the body limited to one function : all are complex in their operation. How many offices, for example, are performed by the lungs ? It is a singular fact in the history of physiological opinions, that the heart, an organ the most susceptible of being excited by the agitations or derangements of the body, should have been considered at one time as insensible. And yet in one sense it is true that it is so. To actual touch the heart is insensible, as was exhibited to the illus- trious Harvey, in the person of a young nobleman, f 80 ON THE SOURCES OF EXPEESSIOX. wlio had tlie teart exposed by disease. Tliis single circumstance, had there been no other evidence, should have earlier directed physiologists to a correct view of the matter, from its proving that the internal organs are aifected and united by sensibilities which are al- together different in kind from those bestowed upon the skin. The sensibility of the external surface of the body is a special endowment adapted to the ele.nents around and calculated to protect the interior parts from injury. But though the heart has not this common sense of touch, yet it has an appropriate sensibility, by which it is held united in the closest connexion and sympathy with the other vital organs ; so that it par- ticipates in all the changes of the general system of the body. » But connected with the heart, and depending on its peculiar and excessive sensibility, there is an extensive apparatus which demands our attention. This is the organ of breathing : a part known obviously as the instrument of speech ; but which I shall show to be . more. The organ of breathing, in its association with ^ the heart, is the instrument of expression, and is the part of the frame, by the action of which the emotions are developed and made visible to us. , Certain strong feelings of the mind produce a disturbed condition of the heart ; and through that corporeal influence, directly from the heart, indirectly from the mind, the extensive apparatus constituting the organ of breathing is put in motion and gives us the outward signs which we call expression. The man was wrong who found fault ivith nature for not placing a window before the heart, in order to render visible human thoughts and intentions. There is, in truth, provision made in the countenance and outward bearing for such discoveries. One, ignorant of the grounds on which these opinions are founded, has said, " Every strong emotion is directed ON THE SOUECES OF EXPEESSION. 81 towards the heart ; the heart experiences various kinds of sensation, pleasant or unpleasant, over which it has no control; and from thence the agitated spirits are diffused over the body.'' The fact is certainly so, although the language be figurative. How are these spirits diffused, and what are their effects ? We find that the influence of the heart upon the extended organ of respiration has sway at so early a period of our existence, that we must acknowledge that the operation or play of the instrument of expression precedes the mental eraotions with which they are to be joined, accompanies them in their first dawn, strengthens them, and directs them. So that it is not, perhaps, too much to conclude that, from these organs moving in sympa^hy with the mind, the same uniformity is produced among men, in their internal feelings, emotions, or passions, as there exists in their ideas of external nature from the uniform operations of the organs of sense. Let us place examples before us, and then try whether the received doctrines of the passions will furnish us with an explanation of the phenomena, or whether we must go deeper, and seek the assistance of anatomy. In the expression of the passions, there is a compound influence in operation. Let us contemplate the appear- ance of terror. "We can readily conceive why a man stands with eyes intently fixed on the object of his fears, the eyebrows elevated to the utmost, and the eye largely uncovered ; or why, with hesitating and bewil- dered steps, his eyes are rapidly and wildly in search of something. In this, we only perceive the intent application of his mind to the object of his appre- hensions — its direct influence on the outward organ. But observe him further : there is a spasm on his breast, he cannot breathe freely, the chest is elevated, the muscles of his neck and shoulders are in action, bis / 82 ON THE SOCECES Of EXPRESSION. breathing is short and rapid, there is a gasping au'1 a convulsive motion of his lips, a trenaor on his hollow cheek, a gulping and catching of his throat ; and •why- does his heart knock at' his ribs, while yet there is no force of circulation? — for his lips and cheeks are ashy pale. So in grief, if we attend to the same class of phe- nomena, we shall be able to draw an exact picture. Let us imagine to ourselves the overwhelming influence of grief on woman. The object in her mind has ab- sovbed all the-powers of the frame, the body is no more regarded, the spirits have left it, it reclines, and the limbs gravitate ; they are nerveless and relaxed, and she scarcely breathes ; but why comes at intervals the long-drawn sigh? — why are the neck and throat con- vulsed ? — what causes the swelling and quivering of the lips, and the deadly paleness of the face ? — or why is the hand so pale and earthly cold ? — and why, at intervals, as the agony returns, does the convulsion spread over he frame like a paroxysm of suffocation ? It must, I think, be acknowledged, when we come to arrange these phenomena, these outward signs of the passions, that they cannot proceed from the direct in- fluence of the mind alone. However strange it may sound to unaccustomed ears, it is to the heart and lungs, and all the extended instrument of breathing, that we are to trace these effects. Over such motions of the body the mind has an unequal control. By a strong effort the outward tokens may be restrained, at least in regard to the general bearing of the body ; but who, while suffering, can retain the natural fulness of his features, or the healthful colour of his cheek, the unembarrassed res- piration and clearness of the natural voice? The villain may command his voice, and mask his purpose with light and libertine words, or carry an habitual ON THE SOUECES OP EXPRESSION. 83 sneer of contempt of all softer passions; but liis un- natural paleness, and the sinking of his features, will Letray that he suffers. Clarence says to his murderers, " How deadly dost thou speak ! Your eyes do menace me : Why look you pale ? " * But the just feelings of mankind demand respect, men will not have the violence of grief obtruded on them. To preserve the dignity of his character, the actor must permit those uncontrollable signs of suffer- ing alone to escape, which betray how much he feels, and how much he restrains. Even while asleep, these interior organs of feeling will prevail and disclose the source of expression. Has my reader seen Mrs. Siddons in Queen Katherine during that solemn scene where the sad note was played which she named her knell ? Who taught the crowd sitting at a play, an audience differing in age, habits, and education, to believe those quivering motions, and that gentle smile, and those slight convulsive twitchings, to be true to nature ? To see every one hushed to the. softest breathing of sympathy with the silent expres- sion of the actress, exhibits all mankind held together by one universal feeling : and that feeling, excited by expression, so deeply laid in our nature, as to have influence, without being obvious to reason. To illustrate this curious subject, I shall first explain the extensive connexions which are established betwixt the great organs that sustain life and the muscular system of the face, neck, and chest. I shall then shew that the functions of these organs are affected by passions of the mind. I shall prove that this connexion Eubsists at the moment of birth, and accompanies us f iirough life ; and, finally, that from this source are • " And troubled blood through his pale face was seen To come and go, with tidings irom his heart." — Faery Qutes. G 2 84 ON THE SOUECES OF EXPBESSION. dorived those otscure indications of emotion in fcno countenance and general frame, whicli cannot be ex- plained on the supposition of a direct influence of the mind on the muscles of expression. The heart and the lungs may be safely taken as two parts which are combined in the same function. The action of the heart, and the motion of the lungs, are eqTially necessary to the circulation of that blood which is fitted for the supply of the body; and the inter- ruption of their motions threatens life. Accordingly, these two organs are united by nerves, and consequently by the closest sympathy ; and in all the -variations to which they are liable, they are still found to correspond, the accelerated action of the one being directly followed by the excitement of the other. The motion of the lungs proceeds from a force altogether external to them . they themselves are passive, being moved by a very great number of muscles which lie iipon the breast, back, and neck; that is, the exterior muscles give play to the ribs, and the lungs follow the motions of the chest. The heart and lungs, though insensible to common im- pression, yet being acutely aUve to their proper stimulus, suffer from the slightest change of posture or exertion of the frame, and also from the changes or affections of the mind. The impression thus made on these internal organs is not visible by its effect upon tiiem, but on the external and remote muscles, associated with them. This law exists in all man- kind ; we see the consequence in those susceptible and nervous persons, whom the mere change of position, or the effort of rising, or the slightest emotion « f mind, flutters and agitates. But it is when the strong are subdued by this mysterious union of soul and body, when passioK tears the breast, that the most afflicting picture of human frailty is presented, and the suresC ON THE SOUECES OF EXPKESSION. 85 proof afforded, that it is on the respiratory organs that the influence of passion falls with so powerful an ex- pression of agony. The next circumstance of this detail to which I beg attention, is the extent of the actions of respiration : the remoteness of the parts agitated in sympathy with the heart. The act of respiration is not liinited to the trunk ; the actions of certain niiiscles of the windpipe, the throat, the lips, the nostrils, are necessarj' to expand those tubes and openings, so that the air may be ad- mitted through them in respiration, with a freedom corresponding with the increased action of the chest. Without this, the sides of these pliant tubes would fall together, and we should be suffocated by exertion or passion. Let us consider how many muscles are combined in the simple act of breathing — how many are added in the act of coughing — how these are changed and modified in sneezing; — let us reflect on the various combinations of muscles of the throat, windpipe, tongue, lips, in speaking and singing, and we shall be able justly to es- timate the extent of the muscles which are associated with the proper or simple act of dilating and compressing the chest. But how much more numerous are the changes wrought upon these muscles, when nature employs them in the double capacity of communicating our thoughts and feelings ; not in the language of sounds merely, but in the language of expression in the countenance also : for certainly the one is as much their office as the othei- The nervous system is complex in an extraordinary degree ; but the reader may not be deten-ed from attempting to understand at least so much, that there is a class of nerves appropriated to respiration. These nerves arise from the same part of the brain ; the great central nerve descends into the chest, to be distributed to the heart and lungs ; and the others extend to the exterior muscles of the chest, neck, and face. Under 8G ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. the influence of the central nerve, the diverging nx- t.ernal ones become the instruments of breathing and of expression. The labour of many months discloses to the anatomist but a part of these nervous cords : and the consideration of the uses they serve presents the most overwhelming proof of the excellence of design, — but a design made manifest by the results, rather than comprehensible in its means. Can we perfectly understand how tickling the throat should produce a convulsion over the whole frame, in which a hundred muscles are finely adjusted and proportioned in their actions to expel what irritates the windpipe ? or, how tickling the nostril should make a change in these muscles, throw some out, and bring others into action, to the effect of sending the air through a different tube to remove what is offensive, and all this without the act of the will. Let us see how the machine works. Observe a man threatened with suffocation : remark the sudden and wild energy that pervades every feature ; the contrac- tions of his throat, the gasping and the spasmodic switchings of his face, the heaving of his chest and shoulders, and how he stretches his hands, and catches like a drowning man. These are efforts made under the oppressive, intolerable sensation at his heart ; and the moans which nature employs, to guard and preserve the animal machine, giving to the vital organ a sensi- bility that irresistibly excites to the utmost exertion. It is this painful sensation that introduces us to "this breathing world," which guards the vital func- tions through life, as it draws iis into existence. Pain is the agent which most effectuallj' rouses the dormant faculties of both mind and body. While the child slumbfrs in the womb it does not live by breathing, it possesses an organ which performs the office of the lungs. In the bii'th there is a short interval, betwixt ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 87 the loss of the one organ, and the substitution of the other ; nor would the breath ever be drawn, or tlie lungs perform their function, but for this painful and irresist- ible nisus, which calls the whole corresponding muscles into action. Spasms and contractions are seen to extend over the infant's chest ; the features are working, and the muscles of the face agitated, probably for the first time : at last, air is admitted into the lungs, a feeble cry- is heard, the air in successive inspirations fully dilates the chest, and the child cries lustily. Now the regu- lar respiration is established, and the animal machinery subsides into repose. " We came crying hither. Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air We wawl and cry : I will preach to thee : mark, When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great stage of fools !" — Lear. With the revolution which the whole economy haa undergone, new wants are engendered, new appetites ; these are again lulled by the mother's breast. During all this no one sympathises with the little sufferer : the grimace with which he enters the world excites only smiles. " On parent's knees, a naked new-born child, Weeping thou sat'st, while all around thee smiled — So live, that sinking in thy last long sleep Calm thou may'st smile, when all around thee weep." From the Persian. " Anger," says Lord Bacon, " is certainly a kind of baseness, as it appears well in the weakness of those subjects in whom it reigns — children, women, old folks, sick folks." But this I may say, that anger is at no period of life so strongly impressed upon human features, as in the first moment of our visiting the light. At the instant of our birth, an association of muscles is fcrmed, and at the same time put in operation 88 ON THE SOHECES OF EXPRESSION. stamping a character of expression wHcli betrays the wants of the body in early infancy, and the sufferings of the mind in the after period. The frame of the body, constituted for the support of the vital functions, becomes the instrument of expression ; and an extensive class of passions, by influencing the heart, by affecting that sensibility which governs the muscles of respil-ation, calls them into co-operation, so that they become an undeviating and sure sign of certnin states or condi- tions of the mind. They are the organs of expression. Eeturning now to the contemplation of any of the stronger passions, we comprehend much which was before obscure. We see why that grief which strikes the heart should affect the regularity of breathing* — why the muscles of the throat should be affected with spasm — why slight quivering motions pass from time to time over the face, the lips, and cheeks, and nostrUs j — because these are the organs of respiration, organs which have their muscles united to the sensibility of the heart, and moved under its influence. Kow we compre- hend, how the passion of rage or terror binds and tightens the chest, how the features are so singularly agitated by the indirect, as well as by the direct in- fluence of the passions — how the words are cut — how the voice sticks in the thi-oat — how the paralysed lips refuse the commands of the will, so that they are held in a mixed state of violence and weakness, which, more than anj fixed expression, characterises the influence of the passion. Blushing. — The sudder flushing of the countenance in blushing belongs to expression, as one of the many sources of sympathy which bind us together. This suf- fusion serves no purpose of the economy, whilst we must acknowledge the interest which it excites as an indica- • The grief that does not speak, Wldspers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.— ilfao6e«i. ON THE SOUECE& OP EXPRESSION. 89 tion of mind. It adds perfection to tte features of beauty.* The colour which attends exertion, or the violent passions, as of rage, arises from general vascular ex- citement, and differs from blushing. Blushing is too sudden and too partial to be traced to the heait's action. That it is a provision for expression may be inferred from the colour extending only to the surface of the face, neck, and breast, the parts most exposed. It is not acquired ; it is from the beginning. It is unlike the effect of powerful, depressing emotions, which influence the whole body. The sudden con- viction of the criminal is felt in every pore ; but the colour caused by blushing gives brilliancy and interest to the expression of the face. In this we perceive an advantage possessed by the fair family of mankind, and which must be lost to the dark ; for I can hardly believe that a blush may be seen in the Negro.f We think of blushes as accompanying shame; but it is indicative of excitement. There is no shame when lively feeling makes a timid youth break through the restraint which modesty and reserve have imposed. It is becoming in youth, it is seemly in more advanced years in women. Blushing assorts well with youthful and with effeminate features ; whilst nothing is more hateful than a dog-face, that exhibits no token of sen- sibility in the variations of colour. * Dr. Burgess, who has written a volume on "Blushing," affirrrs that a Circassian maid who blushes, brings a Higher price in the slave-market ! t A wound in the black leaves a scar in which the dark pigment of the skin is wanting; and the white spot, formed by such a cicatrix in the face of the Negro, reddens with passion. In contrasting, by comparative anatomy, the internal structure of animals, we find in some classes, parts of, the organization ap- parently useless or superfluous, to discover the full development and appropriate functions of which, we must refer to other classes. If the black blushes uui-een, it only shews that the incidental coloui does not affect the general structure aid processes. ( 90 ) ESSAY IV. OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FACE IN" MAN. The muscular part of the animal frame consists of a peculiar flesty substance, possessing tlie power of con- traction, and, consequently, of producing motion. In the limbs and trunk, the muscles are attached to the bones, and are distinct and powerful : but as in the face they have merely to operate on the skin, the lips, nostrils and eyelids, they require less power, and are, therefore, more delicate. And that power is not always directly under the will, like the muscular exertions of the body and limbs ; it is often involuntary, and is inseparably united to the conditions or affections of the mind. The latter consideration gives much interest to the subject ; for, by this provision in the muscles, the very spirit by which the body is animated, and the various emotions, shine out in the countenance. It has been said that the superiority of the human face in expression is an accidental effect of the number of muscles which are provided in man for the faculty of speech. That many of the muscles called into action in speech are also employed in expression will be readily admitted ; but besides these, there are muscles of the human features which have no connexion with the voice, and are purely instrumental in expression. Further, the human countenance is pre-eminent in possessing, not only the muscles proper to man, but also the peculiarities of two great classes of the lower animals, having the muscles which are characteristic ol both these classes combined. MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBKOW. 91 • To understand what follows, it is not necessary for ihe reader to know more of the structure of muscles than that they are formed of distinct packets of fibres ; that the extremities are called their origins and in- sertions : the fixed extremity, attached generally to some point of bone, being the origin ; the extremity which is moved, the insertion. I shall consider the muscles of the face in three groups. First, those which surround the eye ; secondly, those which move the nostrils ; and lastly, those around the mouth. And first, OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW. The forehead is more than any other part charac- teristic of the human countenance. It is the seat of thought, a tablet where every emotion is distinctly impressed ; and the eyebrow is the moveable type for this fair page. " Frons hominis tristitiaa, hilaritatis, dementia, severitalis, index est." Pliky The eye is the chief feature of expression. It takes a thousand shades from the relations of the surrounding parts ; and the eyebrow, that dark arch which sur- mounts it, is itself an eloquent index of the mind. Some one has called the eyebrow " the rainbow of peace, or the bended bow of discord."* There are four muscles attached to the eyebrow. 1. A muscle, called occipito frontalis (a), descends over the forehead, and is inserted into the eyebrow, where it mingles its fibres with the next muscle. The simple action of the frontal portion of the occipito * Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Fortels the nature of a tragic volume ; So looks the strond, whereon the impenous flood Hath left a witnessed usurpation. — Shakspeabb. 92 MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW, frontalis is to raise or arcli the eyebrow, as in surprise or doubt; or, as if we meant to say, "I must look further into this.'' 2. The muscle which closes the eyelids, is the orbim- laris palpebrarum (b). We shall divide this muscle into three parts. Its fibres surround the eye, being spread in a circular direction upon the margin of the orbit and the eyelids. The stronger portion, encircling the orbit, shuts the eyelids with that spasmodic force which is felt when something irritating is thrown into the eye. The paler and more delicate fibres, which lie more immediately upon the eyelids, gently close the eye, as in winking, or in sleep. A third set of fibres is situated directly on the margins of the eyelids.* It is the outer and stronger circle which draws down the eye- brow, and is the direct opponent of the occipito frontalis. 3. The third muscle (c), is properly a part of the first, and is termed the descending slip of the occipito frontalis. As it descends on the side of the nose to be attached to the bridge, it has a difierent effect from the * For the actions of these different portions of the general muscle, see the author's "Practical Essays," Part I. on Squinting, MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBEOW. 93 greater part of tlie muscle : it draws down the inuer extremity of the eyebrow. 4. The next muscle is the corrugator supercilii (d). It arises from the lowest point of the frontal bone, where it joins the bones of the nose, and running obliquely up- wards, is inserted into the skin under the eyebrow. The two muscles acting together knit the eyebrows. These are the muscles of the forehead and eyebrows. In the arched and polished forehead, terminated by the distinct line of the eyebrow, there is an especial capacity for indicating human thought. The lines drawn here often give meaning of a high character to motions of the features in the lower part of the face, which would otherwise express mere animal activity. And it is not a fleshy brow that is best adapted for expression The fulness of the forehead and around the eyes, which the arti.sts and poets combined to give to Hercules, conveys the idea of dull, brutal strength, and a lower- ing expression ; while the forehead of the thin, pale stndent, may evince intelligence or elevation-of thought. The levator pnlpehrcB superioris, the muscle which raises the upper eyelid, and is an opponent of the orbicularis, arises deep within the orbit, and is attached in front to the cartilage which gives form and firmness to the upper eyelid. There are also within the orbit six other muscles, which are inserted into the eyeball. Their action is a subject of high interest, to discuss which would require a volume. I must limit myself to the question of the expression of the eye; referring the reader for more ample illustrations, to those memoirs which treat of the subserviency of the muscles to vision, and of their action in cleaning the cornea, and protecting the organ.* * See the " Nervous System," 4th edition, p. 145 ; " Bridgewatei Treatise on the Hand," Bohn's Library. 94 THE EXPKESSION OP THE EYE. OF THE EXPRESSION OF THE HUMAN EYE. The eye is tlie most lively feature in the counte- nance; the first of our senses to awake, and the last to cease motion. It is indicative of the higher and the holier emotions — of all those feelings which distinguish man fiom the brutes. A large eye is not only consistent with beauty, but necessary to it. The eye of the eagle, even of the ox, is familiar in the similes of poets. The Arab expresses his idea of a woman's beauty, by saying, that she has the eye of the gazelle ; it is the burthen of their songs The timidity, gentleness, and innocent fear, in the eye of the deer tribe, are compared with the modesty of a young girl. " Let her be as the loving hind, and pleasant roe." In the eye we look for meaning, foi human sentiment, for reproof.* Do architects study enough, when arranging the masses of their buildings for effect, how the shadows -will fall? The statuary, at all events, must. "The eye ought to be sunk," says "Winkelmann.f Yes, rela- tively to the forehead ; but not in reference to the face. That would give a very mean expression. It is the strong shadow produced by the projecting eyebrow, which gives powerful effect to the eye, in sculpture. We have said, that the eye indicates the holier emo- tions. In all stages of society, and in every clime, the posture and expression of reverence have been the same. The works of the great masters, who have represented the more sublime passions of man, may be adduced as evidences : by the upturned direction * " I gave Mm," said Dr. Parr, " the chastisement of my eye." t "Auxtetes ide'ales, les yeux sent toujours plus enfoncesqu'ils le le sont en general dans la nature." THE EXPEESSIOX OF THE EYE. 95 of the eyes, and a correspondence of feature and atti- tude, they address us in language intelligible to all mankind. The humble posture and raised eyes are natural, whether in the darkened chamber, or under the open vault of heaven. On first consideration, it seems merely consistent, that when pious thoughts prevail, man should turn his eyes from things earthly to the purer objects above. But there is a reason for this, which is every way worthy of attention. When subject to particular influences, the natural position of the eyeball is to be directed upwards. In sleep, languor and depression, or when affected with strong emotions, the eyes naturally and insensibly roll upwards. The action is not a volun- tary one ; it is irresistible. Hence, in reverence, in devo- tion, in agony of mind, in all sentiments of pity, in bodily pain with fear of death, the eyes assume that position. Ijet us explain by what muscles the eyes are so revolved. There are two sets of muscles which govern the motions of the eyeball. Four straight muscles, attached at cardinal points by combining their action, move it in every direction required for vision; and these muscles are subject to the will. When the straight muscles, from weariness or exhaustion, cease to guide the eye, two other muscles operate to roll it upwards under the eyelid ; these are the oblique muscles. Ac- cordingly, in sleep, in fainting, in approaching death, when the four voluntary muscles resign their action, and insensibility creeps over the retina, the oblique muscles prevail, and the pupil is revolved, so as to expose only the white of the eye. It is so far consola- tory to reflect, that the apparent agony indicated by this direction of the eyes, in fainting or the approach at death, is the effect of encroaching insensibility — of tibjects impressed on the nerve of vision being no longer Derceived. 96 THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE. We thus see that when wrapt in devotional feelings, and when outward impressions are unheeded, the eyes aie raised by an action neither taught nor acquired. It is by this instinctive motion we are led to bow with humility — to look upwards in prayer, and to regard the visible heavens as the seat of God. " Prayer is the upward glancing of the eye, Wben none hut God is near." Although the savage does not always distinguish God from the heavens above him, this direction of the eye would appear to be the source of the universal belief that the Supreme Being has His throne above. The idolatrous Negro in praying for rice and yams, or that he may be active and swift, lifts up his eyes to the canopy of the sky.* So, in intercourse with God, although we are taught that our globe is ever re- volving : though religion inculcates that the Almighty is everywhere, yet, under the influence of this position of the eye, which is no doubt designed for a purpose, — we seek Him on high. " I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help."f See, then, how this property of our bodily frame has influenced our opinions, and belief; our conceptions of the Deity — our religious observances — our poetry, and daily habits. Although the geologist may think that the account • Bakeot : " Description of Guinea." t The same influence, wliich thus induces a posture of the body iu accommodation to the eye, makes the attitude of stooping tlio sign of supplication — of obeisance — and courtesy, among all nations. " And Araimah looked, and saw the king and bis servants coining on towards him ; and Araumih went out, and bowed himself before the king, on his face upon the ground." So, Abraham : " And he lift up his eyes and looked, and lo. three men stood by him ; and when he saw them he ran to meet them from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground." The Mahomcd^.ns, in acts of devotion, cross their hands on Uieir bosom and lucUno the head. Toye, no PRAYER THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE. \)7 m tno Scjiptiires of the formation of the earth, is con- tradicted by his theories, we perceive in our present investigatioK a strict agreement in man's inmost structure with the book of life ; and we may say with Kepler, that man should not resign his natural feelings and thoughts in pursuit of philosophy, "but that, lifting up his natural eyes, with which alone he can see, he should from his own heart pour himself out in worship to the Creator ; being certain that he gives no less worship to God than the astronomer." By this physical conformation, combined with our highest quality of mind, we are led to the expression of devotion. The design of man's being was, that he might praise and honour his Maker. Gratitude is the debt of our nature, and in this property of the eye there is pointed out, to us how that gratitude, which is the distinguishing character of our minds, is to be directed. The orbicularis muscle of the eyelids acts powerfully in certain kinds of expression. In laughing and crying, the outer circle of this muscle, as it contracts, gathei s up the skin about the eye ; and at the same time it compresses the eyeball. A new interest is given to the subject when we inquire into the object of that . Ill well observed. Nor can a stranger go from the church to the picture-galleries, and mistake for a moment where the great painters found their studies, where the y gained those conceptions of devotion, of enthusiasm and abandonment, which we see in the portraits of their saints and martyrs.* ♦ " St. Siro, Genoa. It is a new thing to see those beggars crawling on the stairs. There is one who, lying on his belly, drags himself along with a short stick ; the precise figure that is in tlie cartoons of Raphael. They are sqnalid, distorted, and strange. One fellow among them I should have in my sketch-book. He is on his knees, and, whilst receiving a soldo from a very poor and very old woman, counts his beads, and crosses himself with an indiiSferenee that hardly can be real. In entering a church in health, and the enjoyment of life, to step through amongst the ' poveri ' is no bad preparation. It is impossible to witness the countryman, whose coarse dress marks the lowness of his condition, — to see hira apart, in an obscure ainle, cast down, and in prayer, with such perfect abstraction and abandonment, without the wor;g. 139 tbere is not an unnatural mixture of the tumult and violence of grief with the contemplative recollections of sorrow. Her impatience and turbulence, which make her tear her hair, defy all counsel and redress and call on death or madness as her sole relief, seeni ill assorted with that calmness of spirit which can stop to recollect and enumerate in detail the figure and endearing manners of her son. " Gr'ef fills the room up of my absent child, Ijies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; Puts on his pretty loolis, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form : Then, have I reason to be fond of grief. Fare you well ! liad you had such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do. — I will not keep this form upon my head [tearing off her head-dress.l When there is such disorder in my wit. Lord ! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son ! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world ! My widow's comfort, and my sorrows' cure ! " * This appears rather to be the stage of the passion which is called sorrow; the indulgence of which is attended with a melancholy delight which can sanction the conclusion, " Then have I reason to be fond of grief." Yet, as conviction returns at intervals upon the mind, a period of quiet and sorrowful resignation is succeeded by starts and violent bursts of grief. Though grief is in general distinguished by its violence, lamentation, and tumult, while sorrow is silent, deep brooding, and full of depression, there is a stupefaction which sometimes characterises grief, " the lethargy of woe." We have already had occasion to remark, that ex- • pressions, peculiarly human, chiefly affect the angle ol * King John, Act iii. Scene 4. 140 ■milEPiNa. tho moutli and the inner extremity of the eyebrow; anf! to these points we must principally attend in all nv\ observations concerning the expression of passion. The J' are the most moveable parts of the face ; in them, the muscles concentre, and upon the changes which they undergo, expression is acknowledged chiefly to depend. To demonstrate their importance, we have only to repeat the experiment made by Peter of Cortona ; to sketch a placid countenance, and touch lightly with the pencil the angle of the lips and the inner extremity of the eyebrows. By elevating or depressing these, we shall quickly convey the expression of grief or of laughter. These parts, however, and all the features of an impassioned countenance, have an accordance with each other. When the angles of the mouth are depressed in grief, the eyebrows are not elevated at the outer angles as in laughter. When a smile plays around the mouth, or the cheek is raised in laughter, the brows are not ruffled as in grief. The characters of such opposite passions are so distinct, that they cannot be combined where there is true and genuine emotion. When we see them combined, it is by those who have an unnatural control over their muscles, and the expression is farcical and ridiculous. It is an un- worthy conceit to give to one side of the face comedy and to the other tragedy. In the features of an impassioned countenance there is a consent and accordance of expression. It is not upon a single feature that the emotion operates ; but the whole face is marked with expression, all the move- ments of which are consentaneous. This is referable to some cause acting generally on the tone and state of the frame : the peculiar expression of individual emotion being distinguished by the action and determination of certain features. A'EEPINO. HI Taking indifference as the line of distinction lietween the two great classes of pain and of pleasure, the sensations above this line are weak compared with those below it. The simple sensations of pleasure, before they are heightened and diversified by the multiplied associations of mental affection, are soft and gentle in their nature. The class of painful sensations is powerful and overwhelming ; they are meant as our guardians and protectors against danger and death, and they operate with resistless force. The pleasurable sensations induce a languor and delight, partaking of the quality of indulgence and relaxation ; the painful excite to the most violent tension, and make the mus- cular frame start into convulsive action. The emotions and passions, grounded on these great classes of sensation, raised and increased by the mingling of hopes and fears, and the combination of analogous and associated images of delight or of dan- ger, derive their most important traits of expression from the general tone of pleasure or of pain. In pain, the body is exerted to violent tension, and all the emotions and passions allied to pain, or having their origin and foundation in painful sensations, have this general distinction of character, that there is an energetic action or tremor, the effect of universal and great excitement. It must at the same time be re- membered, that all the passions of this class, some more immediately, others more indirectly, produce in the second stage exhaustion, debility, and loss of tone, from over-exertion. On the other hand, as pleasure is characterised by languor, tranquillity, and relaxation, all the emotiona related to it, or deducible from pleasurable sensations, are felt in the prevailing state of the system — a degree of inaction, and as it were forgetfulness of bodily exertion, and an indulgence in mental contempla- 142 WEEPING. tion.* The contemplation of beauty, or tte aiiiniration of soft music, produces a sense of langour; the body reolines; the lips are half opened; the eyes have a softened lustre from the falling of the eyelids ; the breathing is slow ; and from the absolute neglect of bodily sensation, and the temporary inteiruption of lespiration, there is a frequent low-drawn sigh. * " Here (Aooademia della Belle Arte, Bnlogna) are two pictures which one naturally compares. On the one side is the St. Cecilia ; on the other, the Murder of the Innocents. In the St. Cecilia of liaphael, in ecstasy, there is not only great beauty, but very fine expression. She hears the music of angels ; her face is turned upwards ; the features composed and fine. In the lower part of the face there is a gentle relaxation, almost a smile ; the eyes are directed upwards, but the eyebrow is placid. She is so wi'apt, that the pipes of the organ are almost falling from the hands, which Lang without exeition. " In the picture of the Murder of the Innocents, by Guido Eeni, there is an admirable figure of a woman, wild and full of fire, who flies with her infant pressed to her bosom. But there is another, whose face is in the very attitude of the Cecilia, yet how different I The murder of her child has been perpetrated ; the child lies dead before her ; she is on her knees ; her hands are clasped, and she Iniiks up to heaven ; her mouth is open, and all the features relaxed. The hair and dress are deranged. What, then, is the difference in expression, for there is a certain resemblance in the form and attitude of these heads ? What is the difference between the relaxation of di-spair and of enjoyment? the relaxed jaw, an! open mouth, and troubled forehead of the one, — the softness and languor, with a certain firmness in the lips of the other." — Note from JournaZ. ( 143 ) ESSAY VII. THE SUBJECT CONTINUED; — OF PAIN — HORROR — CONVULSIONS DEMONIACS DEATH. The further we proceed in tkis inquiry the more difficult and delicate does it become. In continuing the subject, I shall rather indulge in detached remarks than pretend to follow a regular course ; keeping, I hope, still true to the observation of nature, and, as far as possible, unprejudiced by theory. Pain is affirmed to be unqualified evil ; yet pain is .lecessary to our existence ; at birth, it rouses the dor- mant faculties, and gives us consciousness. To imagine the absence of pain, is not only to imagine a now state of being, but a change in the earth, and all upon it. As inhabitants of earth, and as a consequence of the great law of gravitation, the human body must have weight. It must have bones, as columns of support, and levers for the action of its muscles; and this mechanical structure implies a complication and de- licacy of texture beyond our conception. For that fine texture a sensibility to pain is destined to be the pro- tection ; it is the safeguard of the body ; it makes us alive to those injuries which would otherwise destroy us, and warns us to avoid them. When, therefore, the philosopher asks why were not our actions performed at the suggestions of pressure, he imagines man, not constituted as he is, but as if he belonged to a world in which there was neither weight, nor pressure, nor anything injurious, where there were 144 PAUf, no dangers to apprehend, no difficulties to overcome, and no call for exertion, resolution, or courage. It would, indeed, be a curious speculation to follow out the consequences on the highest qualities of the mind, if we could suppose man thus free from all hodil'^ suffering. But I return to the position, that pain is the great safeguard of the frame, and now proceed to examine its expression. In bodily pain the jaws are fixed, and the teeth grind ; the lips are drawn laterally, the nostrils dilated ; the eyes are largely uncovered and the eyebrows raised ; the face is turgid with blood, and the veins of the temple and forehead distended ; the breath being checked, and the descent of blood from the head impeded by the agony of the chest, the cutaneous muscle of the neck acts strongly, and draws down the angles of the mouth. But when joined to this, the man cries out, the lips are retracted, and the mouth open ; and we find the muscles of his body rigid, straining, struggling. If the pain be excessive he becomes insensible, and the chest is affected by sudden spasms. On recovering consciousness, he is incoherent, till again roused by suffering. In bodily pain con- joined with distress of mind, the eyebrows are knit, while their inner extremities are raised ; the pupils are in part concealed by the upper eyelids; and the nostrils are agitated. The expression of pain is distinguished from that of weeping not less than from that of laughing. These arise from mental conditions, independent of physical causes, and are uncontrollable and sympathetic. But pain is bodily ; that is to say, there is a positive nervous sensation, which excites to aotion, or to acts of volition ; an energy of the whole frame is produced by suffering, *nd, from the consciousness of its place or source, the PAIN DEMONIACS. 145 efforts are directed to remove it. Hence the struggle, the powerful and voluntary exertions which accompany it. Yet there is a resemblance and, in some degree, an alliance between these actions and the spasms excited by galvanism in experiments on the nerves of animals apparently dead. OF DEMONIACS. "He has a Devil." — Two of the greatest painters, Kaphael and Domenichino, have painted demoniacal boys. In the convent of the Grotto Ferrata, in the neighbourhood of Eome, Domenichino has represented Saint Nilus in the act of relieving a lad possessed.* The saint, an old man, is on his knees in prayer ; the lad is raised and held up by an aged man ; the mother with a child is waiting the consummation of the miracle. Convulsions have seized the lad ; he is rigidly bent back ; the lower limbs spasmodically ex- tended, so that his toes only rest on the ground ; the eyes are distorted, and the pupils turned up under the eyelids. This would be the position of Opisthoto- nos, were not the hands spread abroad, the palms and fingers open, and the jaw fallen. Had the representa- tion been perfectly true to nature, the jaws w^ould have been clenched, and the teeth grinding. But then the miracle could not have been represented, for one, * " Domenioliino, in consequence of some peccadillo, took shelter in the .sanctuary of the monks of the Grotto Ferrata, a fortified convent some miles distant from Eome. The monks, under the threat of delivering him up, made him paint their walla ; and the frescoes are, indeed, beautiful, particularly the old men. That eompartment which is called the Demoniac Boy, is most admired." —Note from Journal. L 146 DEMONIACS. under the direction of the saint, has the finger of hi a left hand in the boy's mouth, and the other holds a vessel of oil, with which the tongue is to be touched. The drawing and colouring exhibited in the lad, and' the grandeur of the old man, make this one of the most admired paintings in Italy. I have here given a sketch of the true Opisthotonos, where it is seen that all the muscles are rigidly con- tracted, the more powerful flexors prevailing over the extensors. Were the painter to represent every cir- cumstance faithfully the effect might be too painful, and something must be left to his taste and imagina- tion.* It may be considered bold to criticise the works of Eaphael ; but I venture to say that, if that great master intended, in his cartoon of the Death of Ananias, to excite horror, the effect would have been more powerful, if there had been greater truth in the con- vulsions of the chief figure, instead of a mere twisting of the body. Strange it is, but true, that we are most affected by the more slight, if correct, portraiture of a natural condition. In the same painter's great picture of the Trans- figuration, in the Vatican, there is a lad possessed, and in convulsions. I hope I am not insensible to the beauties of that picture, nor presumptuous in saj-ing that the figure is not natural. A physician would conclude that this youth was feigning. He is, I pre- sume, convulsed ; he is stiffened with contractions, and his eyes turned in their sockets. But no child was ever so affected. In real convulsions, the extensor muscles yield to the more powerfu. contractions of * The original sketch is in the College of Surgeons of Eilinburgh. J took it fi om soldiers wounded in the head, at the battle of ijorunna. Three men were similarly hurt, and in short sucoes- (Tve intervals similarly affected, so that the charaotor oould not |e mistaken. o I 4" 1 CONVULSIONS. 147 the flexor miiscles ; whereas, in the picture, the lad extends his arms; and the fingers of the left hand' are stretched imnaturally backwards. Nor do the lower extremities correspond with truth ; he stands firm ; the eyes are not natural, they should have been turned more inwards, as looking into the head, and partially buried under the forehead. The mouth, too, is open, which is quite at variance with the general condition, and without the apology which Domenichino had. The muscles of the arms are exaggerated to a degree which Michael Angelo never attempted ; and still it is the extensors and supinators, and not the flexors, which are thus prominent. Disease has characteristic symptoms, which we can accurately and scientifically reduce to description ; and borrowing from this source, there is no state of suffering from which we can so well infer the nature of the agita- tion of the frame as from hydrophobia. The patient being sensible of his condition, and calm, and aware of the experiment which is to be made upon him by his ph^-sician, when he calls for a glass of water, can- not resist the influence of the disease. He shudders, his face assumes an expression of extreme horror and alarm ; convulsive gulpings take place in Tiis throat ; he files to some support, and clings to the bedpost in an agony of suffocation. This I have witnessed in a powerful man. I have had the pain of seeing the disease in a girl of eighteen. The irritability of the skin being increased to an aw^ful degree, so that the touch of her long hair falling on her naked body, ex- cited, as she said, the paroxysms. These recurred with a sense of choking, with sudden and convulsive heav- iugs of the chest, a shuddering, and catching of the muscles of breathing, and an appalling expression of suffering. The paroxysms in such a case becoming more frequent and eevere, finally exhaust the powers L 2 148 FEAR. of life. In these convTilfiions it is the nervous and muscular systems belonging to the natural function of respiration which are affected ; and as they are also the organs of expression, the condition is seen not only in the countenance, but in the throat and chest, to be that of extreme horror. FEAB. " Nam Timor unus erat, faoies non una timoris. Pars laniat crines, pars sine mente sedet. Altera moesta silet, frustra vocat altera matrem, Hasc queritur, stupet hasc, haeo fiigit, ilia manet." Ovid, De Arte Amandi. So Ovid describes the Sabine virgins ; and such the tumultuary and distracted state of mind produced by fear. " And there is good reason for this, because in a sudden daunt and onset of an ntiexpected evil, the spirits which were before orderly carried by their several due motions unto their natural works, are upon this strange appearance and instant oppression of danger so disordered, mixed, and stifled, that there is no power left either in the soul for counsel, or in the body for execution." In mere bodily fear there is mere animal expression and meanness. The breath is drawn and the respiration suspended ; the body fixed, and power- less ; the eyes riveted, or searching and unsteady ; and the action undetermined. Mr. Burke, in his speculations on fear, assimilates it, with perhaps too little discrimination, to pain. " A man in great pain," he observes, " has his teeth set ; his eyebrows are violently contracted ; his forehead is wrinkled; his eyes are dragged iuwards, and rolled 'A O FEAR. 149 with great vehemence; his hair stands on end; his voice is forced out in short shrieks and groans ; and the whole fabric totters." — " Fear or terror," he con tinues, " which is an apprehension of pain or death, exhibits exactly the same effects, approaching in violence to those just mentioned, in proportion to the nearness of the cause, and the weakness of the subject." * But there is one distinguishing feature of the two conditions : the immediate effect of pain is to produce an energetic action and tension of the whole frame; that of fear is to relax all the energy of mind and of body — to paralyse, as it were, every muscle. Mr. Burke soems to have written loosely, partly from forgetting i that pain and fear are often combined, and partly from taking a view of the subject too much limited to the particular conclusion which he wished to enforce. There cannot be great pain without its being attended by the distraction of doubts and fears ; the dread even of death is a natural consequence of extreme pain, and so the expression of fear in the countenance is fre- quently mingled with that of pain. But, perhaps, there are few passions which may not be assimilated by such combinations ; fear and hatred ; hatred and rage ; rage and vengeance and remorse. On the other hand, con fining ourselves to simple bodily fear, there is much truth in the observation of this eloquent writer. The fear of boiling water falling on the legs, gives an ex- pression of the anticipation of scalding, resembling the meaner expression of bodily pain. As Mr. Burke says, fear in the dog will no doubt be that of the lash, and he will yelp and howl as if he actually felt the blows ; and this indeed is the only kind of fear which brutes know. The higher degrees of fear, in which the mind • Sublime and Beautiful, Part IV. sect. 3. Cause of Paiu and Fear. 150 FEAE. operates, and which, we ehall see characterised in the countenance by an expression peculiar to mental energy, do not appear in them. In man, the expression of mere bodily fear ia like that of animals, without dignity ; it is the mean an- ticipation of pain. The eyeball is largely uncovered, the eyes are staring, and the eyebrows elevated to the utmost stretch. There is a spasmodic affection of the diaphragm and muscles of the chest, disturbing the breathing, producing a gasping in the throat, with an inflation of the nostril, convulsive opening of the mouth, and dropping of the jaw ; the lips nearly conceal the teeth, yet allow the tongue to be seen, the space between the nostril and the lip being full. There is a hoUowness and convulsive motion of the cheeks, and a trembling of the lips, and muscles on the side of the neck. The lungs are kept distended, while the breath- ing is short and rapid. From the connection of the nerves of the lungs and diaphragm with those of the side of the neck, and with the branches which supply the cutaneous muscle of the cheek and neck, we may comprehend the cause of the convulsive motion of this muscle.* The aspect is pale and cadaverous from the receding of the blood. The hair is lifted up by tho creeping of the skin, and action of the occipito- frontalis. In the preceding sketch, I have endeavoured to express fear mingled with wonder. But if we should suppose the fear there represented, to have arisen from apprehended danger still remote, and that the object of fear approaches, and is now about to cleave to the person, he trembles, looks pale, has a cold sweat on his face, and in proportion as the imagination has less room to range in, as the danger is more distinctly visible, the expression partakes more of actual bodily pain. The * See Essay ou the Nerves. FEAB. 151 scream of f jar is heard, the eyes start forward, the lips are drawn wide, the hands are clenched, and the ex- pression becomes more strictly animal, and indicative of such fear as is common to brutes.* • I shall here transcribe a portion from my brother's volume on Italy. Mr. John Bell travelled in declining health ; and died in Eome, in ] 820. He had written a great deal with a pencil, in the course of his joui-uey : and no less than thirty small volumes of notes, tlius jotted down on his knee, were submitted by his widow to Professor Bell and myself. In these we saw much to admire ; but kiiowing how much would have been changed and corrected had our brother lived, we tliought them unfit for publication. Of the many striking passages in the work, the following may be Belected as relating to the present subject : — " Turin. The Execution of an Assassin. — I found myself opposite to the distracted criminal whom they were conducting to execution in all the agouies of terror and despair. He was seated in a black car, preceded by arquebusiera, on horseback, carrying their cara- bines pointed forward. These were followed by a band of priests, clothed in long black robes, singing, in deep and solemn tones, a slow mournful dirge, — part of the service" for the dead. A hot burning sun shone with a flood of light ; and, though it was mid- day, such was the silence, and such the power and effect of this solemn chant, that its sound was re-echoed from every distant street. The brothers of the Misericordia, clothed in black, and masked, walked by the side of the car, and joined in the chant. On the steps of the car sat a man bearing a flag, on which Death was represented in the usual forms, and on which was inscribed in Latin (if I read it rightly), ' Death has touched me with his fingers,' or ' Death has laid his bauds on me.' On each side of the car, the officiating priests were seated ; and in tlie centre, sat the criminal himself. It was impossible to witness the condition of this unliappy wretch without terror ; and yet, as if impelled by some strange in- fatuation, it was equally impossible not to gaze upon an object so wild, so full of horror. He seemed about thirty-five years of age ; of large and muscular form; his countenance marked by strong and savage features; half naked, pale as death, agonised with terror, every limb strained in anguish, his hands clenched convul- sively, the sweat breaking out on his bent and contracted brow, he kissed incessantly the figure of our Saviour, painted on the flag which was suspended before him ; but with an agony of wildnesa and despair, of which, nothing ever exhibited on the stage can give the slightest conception. I could not refrain from moralising upon the scene here presented. The horror that the priest had excited in the soul of this savage, was greater than the fear of the most cruel death could ever have produced. But the terrors thus 152 TEEEOK. 1 should apply the name of terror to that kind of fear in which there is a strong working of the imagination, and which is therefore peculiar to man. The eye is hewildered ; the inner extremity of the eyebrows is elevated, and strongly knit by the action of the cor- rugator ; thus producing an expression of distracting thought, anxiety, and alarm, and one which does not belong to animals. The cheek is a little raised, and all the muscles which are concentred about the mouth are active ; there being a kind of modulating action in the circular muscle of the lips, which keeps the mouth partially open. The cutaneous muscle of the neck, the platysma myoides, is strongly contracted, and its iibres may be seen starting into action like cords, under the skin, and dragging powerfully on the angles of the mouth. The imagination wanders; there is an inde- cision in the action, the steps are furtive and unequal, there is a spasm which hinders speech, and the colour of the cheeks vanishes. " Canat thou quake and chaiic;e thy colour, Murther thy breath in middle of a word, And then again begin, and stop again. As if thou wast distraught and mad with terror?"* "When mingled with astonishment, terror is fixed and mute. The fugitive and unnerved steps of mere terror are then changed for the rooted and motionless figure of raised, were the superstitions of an ignorant and bewildered mind, bereft of animal courage, and impressed with some confused belief, that eternal safety was to be instantly secured by external marks of homage to the image. There was here none of the composed, conscious, awful penitence of a Christian ; and it was evident, that the priest was anxious only to produce a being in the near prospect of death, whose condition should alarm all that looked on him. The attempt was successful." — Observations on Italy, p. 48. By the late John Bell. Published by his Widow. Edinbmgh, 1825. *' Biohard III. Act iit Soene 5. Page 152 TERROR DESPAIR. 153 a creature appalled and stupified. Spenser characteriBes well this kind of terror : — " He answered nought at all : but adding new Fear to his first amazement, staring wide With stony eyes, and heartless hollow hue, Astonish'd stood, as one that had espy'd Infernal furies with their chains unty'd. • • * * • But trembling every joint did inly quake, And falt'ring tongue at last these words seem'd forth to shake."* Horror differs from both fear and terror, although more nearly allied to the last than to the first. It is superior to both in this, that it is less imbued with personal alarm. It is more full of sympathy with the sufferings of others, than engaged with our own. We are struck with horror even at the spectacle of artificial distress, but it is peculiarly excited by the real danger or pain of another. We see a child in the hazard of being crushed by an enormous weight, with sensa- tions of extreme horror. Horror is full of energy ; the body is in the utmost tension, not unnerved, by fear. The flesh creeps, and a sensation of cold seems to chill the blood ; the term is applicable of " damp horror." Despair is a mingled emotion. While terror is in some measure the balancing and distraction of a mind occupied with an uncertainty of danger, despair jss the total wreck of hope, the terrible assurance ol'ruin having closed around, beyond all power of escape. - The expression of despair mu.st vary with the nature of the distress of which it forms the acme. In' certain circumstances it will assume a bewildered, distracted air, as if madness were likely to be the only close to the mental agony- Sometimes there is at once a wildness in the looks and total relaxation, as if falling into insensibility ; ;r there is upon the countenance of the * Faery Queen, Book L oant, 9, l. 24. 154 DESPAIR. desperate man a torrid gloom ; the eye is fixed, yet ho neitlier sees nor hears aught, nor is sensible of what surrounds him. The features are shrunk and livid, and convulsion and tremors affect the muscles of the face. Hogarth has chosen well the scene of his picture of despair. In a gaming-house, the wreck of all hope affects, in a thousand various ways, the victims of this vice ; but in every representation of despair, an incon- solable and total abandonment of those exertions to which hope inspirits and excites a man, forms an essential feature. We have two fine descriptions of despair given in detail by English poets. One is by Spenser : " The darksome cave they enter, where they find That cursed man, low sitting on the_ ground, Musing full sadly in his sullen mind ; His grcazy looks, long growing and unbound, Disorder'd himg about his shoulders round, And hid his face ; through which his hollow eyne Look, deadly dull, and stared as astound ; His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine. Where shrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine." * The other is in the tragedy of the " Gamester," where Beverley, after heart-rending reiteration of hope and disappointment, having staked the last resource of his wife and family on one fatal throw, ;finds himself suddenly plunged into ruin. " When all was lost, he fixed his eyes upon the ground, and stood some time with folded arms stupid and motionless : then snatching his sword that hung against the wainscot, he sat him down, and with a look of fixed attention drew figures on the floor. At last he started up; looked wild and trembled; and, like a woman seized vsdth her sex's fits, laughed out aloud, while the tears trickled down his face. So he left the room." * Faery Queen, Book i. cant. 9, b. 3f ADMIRATION. J 55 A painter may have to represent terror, despair, astonishment, and supernatural awe, mingled in one powerful expression of emotion. In a mind racked with deep despair, conscious of strength and courage, hut withered and subdued by supernatural agency, the expression is quite removed from all meanness ; it must be preserved grand and terrific ; the hero may still appear, though palpitating and drained of vigour. Milton has admirably sketched the nerveless stupe- faction of mingled astonishment and horror : — " On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard The fatal trespass done by Eve, amaz'd, Astoniod stood and blank, while horror chill Ban through his veins, and all his joints relax'd; Prom his slack hand the garland wreath'd for Eve Down dropp'd, and all the faded roses shed: Speechless he stood and^iale, till thus at length First to himself he inward silence broke." * In admiration, the faculty of sight is enjoyed to the utmost, and all else is forgotten. The brow is expanded and unruffled, the eyebrow gently raised, the eyelid lifted so' as to expose the coloured circle of the eye, while the lower part of the face is relaxed in a gentle smile. The mouth is open, the jaw a little fallen, and by the relaxation of the lower lip we just perceive the edge of the lower teeth and the tongue. The posture of the body is most expressive when it seems arrested in some familiar action. Joy is distinguishable from pleasure. It consists, not so much in the sense of gratification, as in the delight of the conviction that the long-expected pleasure is within our reach, and the lively anticipation of the enjoyment which is now decked out in its most favourite and alluring shape. A certain sensation ol * Paradise Lost, Book ii. ver. 888. 156 JOT. want is mingled with joy; a recollection of the alter- nate hopes and fears which formerly distracted the mind, contrasted with the immediate assurance ol gratification. In joy the eyebrow is raised moderately, but without any angularity ; the forehead is smooth ; the eye full, lively, and sparkling ; the nostril is moderately in- flated, and a smile is on the lips. In all the exhilarating emotions, the eyebrow, the eyelid, the nostril, and the angle of the mouth are raised. In the depressing passions it is the reverse. For example, in discontent the brow is clouded, the nose peculiarly arched, and the angle of the mouth drawn down. Contrasted with joy is the testy, pettish, peevish countenance bred of melancholy; as of one who is incapable of receiving satisfaction from whatever source it may be offered ; who cannot endure any man to look steadily upon him, or even speak to him, or laugh, or jest, or be familiar, or hem, or point, without thinking himself contemned, insulted, or neglected. The arching of the mouth and peculiar form of the wings of the nose are produced by the conjoint action of the triangular muscle which depresses the angles of the mouth, and the superbus, whose individual action protrudes the lower lip. The very peevish turn given to the eyebrows, the acute upward inflection of their inner extremities, and the meeting of the perpendicular and transverse furrows in the middle of the forehead, are produced by the opposed action of part of the frontal muscle and of the cornigator. Habitual suspicion and jealousy are symptoms and accompaniments of melancholy. Envy may be classed with these expressions ; but it is an ungenerous re- pining, not a momentary passion.* "It consumes a • " La invidia, crudelissimo dolore di animo, per il bene altrai, fa ritiiar tutti i membri, oome contraere etofiuscar le oigUe, gtiiugers Pag& 156 n Hj ^ * y s /. Jealoust JEALOUSY. 157 man as a moth does a garment, to be a living anatomy, a skeleton — to be a lean and pale carcass quickened- with the fiend — ' intahescetque vivendo.' " Suspicion is cbaracterised by earnest attention, with a certain timorous obliquity of tbe eyes : — " Foul ill-favoured and grim. Under his eyebrows looking still askance ; And ever as Dissemblance laughed on him, He lour'd on her with dangerous eye glance, Showing his nature in his countenance : His rolling eyes did never rest in place, But walk'd each where, for fear of hid mischaunce. Holding a lattice still before his face. Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace." * Jealousy is marked by a more frowning and dark obliquity of the eyes, as if it said, " I have an eye on you ;" with the lowering eyebrow is combined a cruel expression of the lower part of the face. Jealousy is a fitful and unsteady passion : its chief character is in the rapid vicissitudes from love to hate ; now absent, moody, and distressed ; now courting love ; now ferocious and revengeful ; these changes make it a difficult subject for the painter ; and it is only in poetry that it can be truly presented in the vivid colours of nature. Even among poets, Shakspeare alone seems to have been equal to the task. Sometimes it may be personified in the face of a mean, suspicious, yet op- pressed creature ; or again in a lowering expression, the body as if shrunk into itself; like that of one brooding over his condition, and piecing out a tissue of trifling incidents to abuse his judgment. i denti, ritirar le labbra, torcersi con certa passione di sguardo quasi in atto di volere intendere et spiare i fatti altrui," &c. — Lomazzo p. 130. * Faery Queen, Book iii. c. 12, s. 15. 158 RAGE. In jealousy the eyebrows are knit, and tlie eyelid so fully lifted as almost to disappear, while the eyehaU glares from under the hushy eyebrow. There is a general tension of the muscles which concentre around the mouth, and the lips retract and shew the teeth with a fierce expression ; this depends partly on the turn oi the nostril, which accompanies the retraction of the lips. The mouth should express that bitter anguish which the Italian poet has rather too distinctly told : — " Trema '1 cor dentro, e treman fuor le labbia, Non pud U lingua disnodar jiarola, La bocca amara e par che tosco v' habbia." Again : — " E per r ossa un tremor freddo gli scorre. Con cor trafitto, e con pallida faccia, E con voce tremante, e hocca amara.'" There seems to be a natural succession in the passions of rage, revenge, and remorse : I do not mean morally, but in regard to our present inquiry concerning the traits of expression. A slight change in the lineaments of rage gives the expression of revenge, while the cruel eye of revenge is tempered by the relaxing energy of the lower part of the countenance in remorse. Eage is that excess or vehemence of anger that can be no longer restrained — scBva animi tempestas. "Whether the object be near or remote, the frame is wrought and chafed. It is a brutal passion, in which the body acts with an impetuosity not directed by sense. If we observe it in a beast, we shall better recognise it in man. When the keeper strikes the tiger or the wolf with his pole, there is an instantaneous fire of ex- pression ; the eye, the teeth are in a moment exposed, and accompanied with an excitement of the frame which we cannot see unmoved. If we imagine the RAGE EAGE. 159 tiuman brute strangling helpless age or infancy, it must l)e with such a rage as this. Lord Karnes says, "A stock or a stone by which I am hurt becomes an object Df resentment, and I am violently incited to crush it to atoms." 'I'his is purelj' as the wolf bites the stick which is presented to him. In considering those bursts of passion which lead us to wreak our vengeance upon inanimate objects. Dr. Eeid supposes we are possessed with the momentary belief that the object is alive : " There must," he says, " be some momentary notion or conception that the object of our resentment is capable of punishment." I believe the mistake here is in not having a confirmed notion of the intimate connection between the emotion in the mind and the exertion of the bodily frame. The body and limbs suffer an agitation as the face does, resulting from the passion ; and if a man, half conscious of the frenzy which possesses him, and afraid of being betrayed into an act of cruelty, flings from him the weapon of destruction, it is with the jerk and impetuosity of an outrageous act ; whilst his humane sense controls him, it is not capable of arresting that instinctive agency of the body wrought upon by the passion ; just as a man, after a long exercise of patience in some work of delicacy or nicety, is at last overcome, dashes the instrument from him, and relieves himself by a burst of impatience and some angry stride^ In rage the features are unsteady ; the eyeballs are seen largely ; they roll and are inflamed. The front is alternately knit and raised iii furrows by the motion of the eyebrows, the nostrils are inflated to the utmost ; the lips are swelled, and, being drawn by the muscles, open the corners of the mouth. The whole visage is Bometimes pale, sometimes turgid, dark, and almost livid; the words are del'.vered strongly through the 160 EEMOliSE. fixed teeth ; " the hair is fixed on end like one distracted, and every joint should seem to curse and ban."* Tasso thus describes the rage of Argante : " Tacque ; e '1 Pagano al soffeiir poco uso, Morde le labbra, e di furor si strugg<5. Eisponder vuol, ma '1 suono esoe oonfuso, Siccome stride d' animal, che rugge : O come apre le nubi end' egli e cMuso, Impetuoso il fulmine, e sea fagge ; Cos! pareva a forza ogni suo detto Tonando uscir dall' Infiammato petto." — Cant. vi. 38.t But in representing the passion, it may be much varied : perhaps the eyes are fixed upon the ground ; the countenance pale, troubled, and threatening; the lip trembling and the breath suppressed, or there is a deep and long inspiration as of inward pain. In the following sketch I have endeavoured to represent that expression which succeeds the last horrid act of revenge ; the storm has subsided, but the gloom is not yet dissipated. Some compunctious visitings of nature are in the lips, though the eye retains its severity. By the posture and fixed attention, I would indicate that the survey of the now lifeless body carries back the train of thought with regret for past transactions. To represent the prevailing character and physiog- nomy of a madman, the body should be strong and the muscles rigid and distinct, the skin bound, the features sharp, the eye sunk; the colour of a dark brownish * " La fciria fr gl' atti stolti e fuor di se ; si oomme di quelli che el awolgono ne i moti offensivi, senza riguardo alcuno, rendendosi vehementi ia tutti gl' affetti, con bocca aperta et storta, che par che stridano, ringhino, urlino et si lainentino, stracciandoai le membia et i panni et faoendo altre amunie." — Lommazzo, lib. ii. p. 135. t If the painter haa any imagination and power of delineation, the. reading of the conabat of Tancred and Argante must inspire him with a grand conception of the sublime ferocity of the human figure in action. '^ Pag& 160 B.EKORSE, --It* ^ *>-. • \ ■ _ ^ MADNESS MADNESS. 161 yellow, tinctured witli sallowness, without one spot of enlivening carnation ; the hair sooty black, stift' and bushy. Or, perhaps, he might be represented as of a pale sickly yellow, with wiry hair. " His burning; eyeu, whom bloody strakes did stain, Staved full ^\ide, and threw forth sparks of fire ; And more for rank despight than for great pain, Shak'd his long locks, colour'd like copper wire. And bit his tawny beard to show his raging ire." * I do not mean hei'e to trace the progress of the diseases of the mind, but merely to throw out some hints respecting the external character of the outrageous maniac. You see him lying in his cell regardless of everything, with a death-like settled gloom upon his countenance. When I say it is a death-like gloom, I mean a heaviness of the features without knitting of the brows or action of the muscles. If you watch him in his paroxysm you may see the blood working to his head ; his face acquires a darker red; he becomes restless; then rising from his couch he paces his cell and tugs his chains ; now his inflamed eye is fixed upon you, and his features lighten up into wildness and ferocity. The error into which a painter may naturally fall is to reiDresent this expression by the swelling features of passion and the frowning eyebrow ; but this would only give the idea of passion, not of madness. Or he mistakes melancholia for madness. The theory upon which we are to proceed in attempting to convey this peculiar look of ferocity amidst the utter wreck of the intellect, I conceive to be, that the expression of mental energy should be avoided, and consequently the action of all those muscles which indicate sentiment. I believe this to be true to nature, because I have observed (contrary to my expectation) that there was not that energy, " Fairy Queen, Book ii. L.iiit. 4, s. 15. 1 62 MADNESS. that krjtting of the trows, that indignant hrooding and thoughtfulness in the face of madmen which is generally imagined to characterise their expression, and which is so often given to them in painting. There is a vacancy in their laugh, and a want of meaning in their ferociousness. To learn the character of the countenance, when devoid of human expressitjn, and reduced to the state of brutality, we must have recourse to the lower ani- mals, and study their looks of timidity, of watchfulness, of excitement, and of ferocity. If these expressions are transferred to the human face, I should conceive that they will irresistibly convey the idea of madness, vacancy of mind, and mere animal passion. But these discussions are only for the study of the painter. The subject should be full in his mind, without its being for a moment imagined that such painful or humiliating details are suited to the canvas. If madness is to be represented, it is with a nioral aim, to show the consequences of vice and the indulgence ol passion. There is a link of connection between all liberal pro- fessions. The painter may borrow from the physician. He will require something more than his fancy can supply, if he has to represent a priestess or a sybil. It n\ust be the creation of a mind, learned as well as inventive. He may readily conceive a female form full of energy, her imagination at the moment exalted and pregnant, so that things long past are painted in colours as if they stood before her, and her expression becomes bold and poetical. But he will have a more true and precise idea of what is to be depicted, if he reads the history of that melancholia which undoubtedly, in early times, has given the idea of one possessed with a spirit. A young woman is seen constitutionally pale and languid; and from this inanimate state, no MADNESS. 163 show of affection or entreaty will draw her into con- versation with her family. But how changed is her coadition, when instead of the lethafgy and fixed coun- teaanoe, the circulation is suddenly restored, the blood mounts to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkle, while hoth in mind and body she manifests an unwonted energy, and her whole frame is animated. During the con- tinuance of the paroxysm, she delivers herself with a force of thought and language, and in a tone so greatly altered, that even her parents say, " She is not our child, she is not our daughter, a spirit has entered into her." This is in accordance with the prevailing super- stition of antiquity ; for how natural to suppose, when this girl again falls into a state of torpor, and sits like a marble statue, pale, exhausted, taciturn, that the spirit has left her. The transition is easy ; the priests take her under their care, watch her ravings and give them meaning, until she sinks again into a death-like stupor or indiiference. Successive attacks of this kind impress the counte- nance indelibly. The painter has to represent features powerful, but consistent with the maturity and per- fection of feminine beauty. He will show his genius by portraj'ing, not only a fine female form with the grandeur of the antique, but a face of peculiar cha- racter ; embodying a state of disease often witnessed by the physician, with associations derived from history. If on the dead and uniform paleness of the face he bestows that deep tone of interest which belongs to features inactive, but not incapable of feeling : if he can show something of the imprint of long suffering- isolated from human sympathy, throw around her the appropriate mantle, and let the fine hair fall on her shoulders, the picture will require no golden letters to announce her character, as in the old paintings of the Sybil or the Pythoness. M a 164 OF DEATH, AS REPRESENTED IN THE PAINTINGS OF THE OLD MASTERS. Before proceeding, I must repeat, that the convulsions of the body which sometimes accompany the act of dying, are not the effect of pain, but succeed to insensi- bility. There may remain, after death, for a time, the expression of suffering ; but this soon subsides, and the features become placid and composed. Therefore it is that the sorrowing friends are withdrawn, until Death has had the victory, when the features assume the tranquillity of sleep. 'i'he observation of Leonardo da Vinci, that contrast is essential iu painting, has a fine example in the picture of the " Martyrdom of St. Agnes." * Near the martyr lie two soldiers struck down bj' a miracle : one of these is in the agony, but not j'et dead ; the muscles of his neck are convulsed, the mouth extended, and the lips drawn back from the teeth, the brow is furrowed, the eyes almost closed, and the pupils not visible : the other soldier is tumbled over him ; his features are fixed in death : with- both of these is contrasted the resignation of the martyr. When in Rome, I heard much of the fine statue of St. Cecilia Decollata ; f I, therefore, went to the Church of St. Cecilia in Trastevere. Looking for a statue, my surprise was great when it was pointed out where the figure lay, in a crypt or low marble arch, under the great altar. J A gold case, containing the heart of the * In the Aooademia delle Belle Arte, Bologna, t Stufuno Mademo Sculptor. 1599. X Cardinal Banonius has given us an exact description of tbe appearance of the body, buried by Pope Pasihal (in the 9th century) when exhumed by order of Cardinal Spondati in 1599, "She was lying not in the manner of one dead and buried, that is. DEATH. 1 65 saint, hangs from the centre of the arcli. St. Cecilia was an early convert to Christianity, and having drawn her brother, and many others to the faith, she suffered martyrdom, and was found in tlie precise position in which this marble represents her. The body lies on its side, the limbs a little drawn up; the hands are delicate and fine, they are not locked, but crossed at the wrists ; the arms are stretched out The drapery is beautifully modelled, and modestly covers the limbs. The head is enveloped in linen, but the general form is seen, and the artist has contrived to convey by its position, though not offensively, that it is separated from the body. A gold circlet is around the neck to conceal the place of decollation. It is the statue of a lady, perfect in form, and affecting, from the resemblance to reality in the drapery of white marble, and the un- expected appearance of the statue altogether. It lies, as no living body could lie ; and yet correctly, as the dead, when left to expire, — I mean in the gravitation of the limbs.* The position of the head will distinguish the dead from the living figure. There is so much difference ou lier back, but on her right side, as one asleep : and in a very modest attitude ; covered with a simple stuff of taffeta, having her head bound with cloth, and at her feet the remains of the cloth of gold and silk which Pope Paschal had found in her tomb." The statue of Mademo agrees exactly with this description. — Mks. Jameson, Sacred and Legendary Art. * Statua di St. Cecilia. — " Questa grazlosa statua giaoente, lap- presenta un corpo morto come se allora fosse caduto moUemente sul terreno, coUe estremitd ben disposte e con tutta la decenza nell' assetto del panneggiamenti, teneudo la testa rivolta all' ingih e avilluppata in una benda, senza che inopportunamente si scnrga I' irrigldire del corpi fteddi per morte. Le pieghe vi sono facile, e tutta la grazia spira dalla persona, che si vede essere giovine e gentile, quantunque asconda la facoia ; le forme generali, e le belle estremitk che se mostrano, danno a vedere con quanta grazia e con quanta soelta sla stata imitata la natura in quel posare si doloe< mcnte." 166 DEATH. DEATH. 167 between fainting and death; that is to say, it is so possible to mark the difference, that I confess I have been disappointed by the failure of some of the finest painters ; for example, in the representation of the Madonna fainting at the foot of the cross, which is a very frequent subject, the colouring is commonly that of death.* There is sometimes in death a fearful agony in the eye ; but we have said, that it is consolatory to know that this does not Indicate suffering, but increasing insensibility. The pupils are turned upwards and in- wards. This is especially observed in those who are expiring from loss of blood. It is the strabismus paiheti- cus orantium of Boerhaave. Sauvages observes on this rolling up of the eyeball, in dying children, — " Vulgo aiunt hos tenellos suara patriam respicere." ' The vulgar say, that these little ones are looking to their native home.'t We cannot fail to observe how artfully the poets accommodate their descriptions of death to that kind of interest which they have laboured to excite. The tyrant falls convulsed and distorted in agony; the hero, in * Gesit Crista Morto. — " He lies, the head and shoulders restiiig on the knees of his mother, who has fainted. The posture and abandonment of the Magdalen is the finest representation possible ; her hair,' as usual, loose. She is kneeling at the feet of our Saviour, her hands convulsively entwined. The dead body is beautifully drawn ; the anatomy perfect, not exaggerated. But the motlier is dea'l — gone to decay — not in faint, but in death : such is the effect of the colouring." — Note from Journal. Parma. t To express approaching dissolution, the French peasant uses a pai-ase derived from this upturning of the eye-ball. She arrived — " au moment ou ea mbre tourne I'xil." In the suildi n death of the necromancer by the action of Astolfo's jword on his fated hair : — • " Si fece il vise allor pallido e brutto Travolse gli occhi, e dimostro a 1' occaso Per manifesti segni esser condutto." Anoeto, e-. 15, st. 65. 168 DEATH. whose fate we have been made to sympathise, expiree without the horrors of death ; his fall is described with all the images of gentle sinking, where mortal languor is succeeded by insensibility, unaccompanied by pangs and struggles. In the episode of Nisus and Euryalus, Virgil gives to the death of Sulmo all the horror of violent death ; the breath is convulsively drawn, and the sides palpitate. " Hasta volans noctis diverberat umbras, Et venit aversi in tergum Sulmonis, ilique Frannitur, ac fisso transit praeoordia liiiio. Volvitur ille vomens calidum de peotore flumen . Frigidus, et longis singultibus ilia pulsat." — Aineid, ix. 411. But in the death of Euryalus the poet recurs to all the images of languid and gentle decline : — " Volvitur Euryalus letho, pulchrosque per artus It cruor, inqiie bumeros cervix collapsa rccumbit : Purpureus veluti quum flos, succisus aratro, Languescit moriens ; lassove papavera coUo Demisere caput, pluvia quum forte gravantur." * uEneid, ix. 433. Tasso presents us with some very fine contrasts cl " In the death of Dardinel, the simile of Virgil is beautifully iinitiited by Ariosto : — " Come purpureo fior languendo muore Che '1 voiuero al passor tagliato ladsa; O oome earco di soverchio umore II papaver no 1' horto, il capo abbassa ; Cosi giii de lii faccid ogui cobre Cadendo, Dardinel di vita passa," &c. Cant. xvLii. 153. As a further contrast, we might take the deatli of the Soldau's page, Ger. Lib. ix. 86. So of Nisus throwing himself upon tlie body of his friend, JEneid, ix. 444. Contrast also the de.ath of Eunseus, lb. xi. 668, with that of Camilla, in the same book. Sallust thus describes finding tLs body of Catiline :—" Longe a Buis inter bostium cadavera, paululum etiam spirans, ferociamque animi quam habuerit vivus, in voltu retinens." DEATH. 16!) the same kind ; in the death of Argante, for example, there is a pioture of ferocious impetuosity and savage strength : — " Infuiiossi allor Tancredi et disse ; Cosi abusi, f'ellon, la piet^ inia ? Pol la spada gli fisse et gli refisse Nella visera, ove acoerti la via. Moriva Argante, e tal moria qual visse : Minacciava morendo, e non languia ; Superbi, formidabili, e feroci Gli ultimi moti ffir, 1' ultime voci." Tasso, Otr. Lib. cant. xix. 26. Sometimes, indeed, death may he represented unac- companied by the horror with which it is commonly associated. A young creature is seen in death, as if asleep, with the beauty of countenance unobscured by convulsion; the form remains, but the animation is gone, and the colours of life have given place to the pale tints of death. " D' un bel pallore ha il bianco volto asperso, In questa forma Passa la bella donna, e par che dorma." Tasso, Gtfr. Lib. cant. xii. 69 Again the same poet : — " E quasi nn ciel notturno, anco serene Senza splendor la faocia sdolorata." Or Petrarch : — "Non come fiamma che per forza fe spenta, Ma che per se medesma si consume, Se n' ando in pace 1' anima contenta : A guisa di un soave e chiaro lume, Cui nutrimento a poco a poco manca, Tenendo al fin sao usato co.stume ; Pallida no, ma piii che neve bianca, Che senza vento in un bel colle fiocchi, Parea posar come pursona stanca. 170 DEATH. Quasi un dolce dormir ne' suoi begli occhi, Essendo il spirto gia' da lei diviso, Era quel che morir chiaman glj sciocchi. Morte bella parea nel suo bel viso." Trinnfo della Morte. A man who has died in battle lies blanched and very pale ; he has bled to death ; but one strangled, smitten, or crushed by some deadly contusion, has the blood settled in his face. The following picture is truly horrible from its truth and accuracy ; — " But, see, his face is black, and full of blood ; His eyeballs further out than when he lived. Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling ; His hands abroad display'd as one that grasp'd And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued. Look on the sheets ; his hair, you see, is sticking ; His well-proportion'd beard made rouijh and rugged, Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged. It cannot be but he was murder'd here ; The least of all these signs were iirobable.'' King Henry VI. Part II. The laws of inquest in England require such things to be witnessed in all their appalling circumstances, since the body lies where it falls, and no weapon or even disorder of dress is removed. Are such scenes to be painted? — Certainly not. The impression may be conveyed to the spectator consis- tently with good taste, and in a manner less obtrusive, so as to awaken the sensations which should attend them, without the detail of the actual scene. It may be allowed in words, as Shakspeare has represented the body of the good Duke Humphrey ; but in painting, the representation becomes too palpable to admit the whole features of horror. ( 171 ) ESSAY VIII. OF KXPRESSION IN KEFERKNCE TO THE BODY THE EMOnONS MODIFIED BY CONTROLLING EXPRESSION. Ix the preceding essays, it has been shewn that the Dowerful passions influence the same class of nerves and muscles which are affected in highly excited or anxious breathing ; and it was inferred, that the apparatus of respiration is the instrument by which the emotions are manifested. In fear or in grief, the movements of the nostrils, the uncontrollable tremor of the lips, the convulsions of the neck and chest, and the audible sobbing, prove that the influence of the mind extends over the organs of respiration ; so that the difference is slight between the action of the frame in a paroxysm of the passions and in the agony of a drowning man. Having traced the connection between the excitement of the chest or trunk of the body and expression in the face, we may for a moment turn our attention to the consent between the breathing or expression of the body generally, and the position of the limbs. Let us take the instances by which we before illustrated the uni- versal consent of the animal frame. When the tiger or wolf is struck by the keeper, and suddenly roused to ferocity and activity, the -character is seen not only in the glare of the eyes, the retraction of the lips, and the 172 EXPRESSION IK EEFEKENCE TO THE BODY. harsh sound of the breath as it is forcibly drawn through the confined throat, but every muscle is in tension and the lips in an attitude of strained exertion, prepared to spring. In this condition of high animal excitement, observe the manner in which the chest is kept distended and raisid ; the inspiration is quick, the expiration slow; and, as the keeper strikes the jaw, there is at the same instant a start into exertion, and the breath rapidlj^ drawn in. The cause of this ex- pansion of the chest is readily understood, when we recollect that the muscles by which the limbs are exerted have two extremities : one fixed, which is called the origin ; the other moveable, which is called the insertion. The muscles of the arms, in man, and of the forelegs, in brutes, have their origins on the chest. To give power to the further extremities or insertions of these muscles into the limbs, the chest must be fixed : and, to give them their fullest power, it must be raised and expanded, as well as fixed. Hence that most terrible silence in human conflict, when the outcry of terror or pain is stifled in exertion ; for, during the struggle with the arms, the chest must be expanded or in the act of risiag, and, therefore, the voice, which consists in the expul- sion of the breath by the falling or compression of the chest, is suppressed, and the muscles which perform the office of raising and distending the chest, act in aid of the muscles of the arms. The moment of alarm is also that of flight or defence; the sudden and startled exertion of the hands and arms is attended with a quick inspiration and spasm of the mouth and throat, and the first sound of fear is in drawing, not in expelling the breath ; for at that insta,nt to depress and contract the chest would be to relax the muscles of the arms and enfeeble their exertion. Or, to put the example in another form, suppose two men wrestling in the dark would not their voices convey to us the violence of theii EXPrESSION IN EEFEEENCE TO THE BODY. 173 efforts? The short exclnmation choked in the act of exertion, the feeble and stifled sounds of their breathing, would let us know that they turned, and twisted, and wore in mortal strife. To an apt observer, two doga fighting might illustrate the subject. Smh com- binations of the muscular actions are not left to the direction of our will, but are provided for in the original constitution of the animal body : they are instinctive motions. Yet, the principles of criticism in these matters have been laid down with surprising confidence by persons who had no knowledge of ana- tomy, and whose curiosity had never been raised, to inquire into the phenomena of their own emotions, or of those they must have witnessed in others. 1 shall transcribe here a passage from an elegant and ingenious critic, on which I shall freely make some remarks. " In like manner it is not with the agonies of a man, writhing in the pangs of death, that we sympathise, on beholding the celebrated group of Laoooon and his sons ; for such sympathies can only be painful and disgusting : but it is with the energy and fortitude of mind which those agonies call into action and display. For though every feature and every muscle is convulsed, and every nerve contracted, yet the breast is expanded and the throat compressed, to show that he suffers in silence. I therefore still maintain, in spite of the blind and indiscriminate admiration, which pedantry always shews for everything which bears the stamp of high authority, that Virgil has debased the character, and robbed it of all its sublimity and grandeur of expression by making Laoooon roar like a hull ; and I think that I may safely affirm, that if any writer of tragedy were to make any one personage of his drama to roar out in the same manner, on being mortally wounded, the whole audience would burst into laughter, ho-w pathetic 174 EXPEE.SSION IN EEFEKKNCB TO THE BODY. soever the incidents might be that accompanied it. Homer has been so sensible of this, that of the vast number and variety of deaths, which he has described, he has never made a single Greek cry out on receiving a mortal wound."* The criticism here is just, so far as the artist is praised and the poet blamed ; but the critic has mis- taken the ground of the praise and of the blame. It appears strange that any one should philosophise on such points and yet be ignorant of the most common things in the structure of his own frame, and of the facts most essential to just criticism in works of art. What ideas can be conveyed, for example, by " the convulsion of a feature," and the " contraction of a nerve " ? The writer has had the impression, which all who look on the statue must have, that Laocoon suiiers in silence, that there is no outcry. But the aim of the artist is mistaken. He did not mean to express " energy and fortitude of mind," or, by " expanding the breast and compressing the throat, to shew that he suffers in silence." His design was to represent corporeal exertion, the attitude and struggles of the body and of the arms. The throat is inflated, the chest straining, to give power to the muscles of the arms, while the slightly parted lips show that no breath escapes ; or, at most a low hollow groan.f He could not roar like a * Mr. Payne Knight on Taste, p. 333. t " lUe simul nianibtis tendit divellere nodes, Perfusus saiiie vittas atrique veneno: Clamores simul horrendos ad sidera toUit : Qualis mugitua, fugit quum sancius aram Taurus, et incertam exoussit cervice securim." ^neid, Lib. ii. 1. 220. " Virgilio ci rappresente Laoooonte in smanie e in muggite come uu toro ferito a morte ; ma Agesendro seppe exprimere tutto il dolore, senza cedere la bellezza." — Azara, p. 5a. This is juot the oritioism of Mr. Payne Knight. EXPEESSIOK IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 175 bull — he had not the power to push his hreath out in the very moment of the great exertion of his arms to untwist the serpent which is coiled around him. It is a mistake to suppose that the suppressed voice, and the consent of the features with the exertion of the frame, proceed from an effort of the mind to sustain his pain in dignified silence ; for this condition oi the arms, chest, and face, are necessary parts of one action. The instant that the chest is depressed to vociferate or bellow, the muscles arising from the ribs and inserted into the arm-bones must be relaxed, and the exertion of the arms becomes feeble. Again, in speaking or exclaiming, a consent runs through all the respiratory muscles; those of the mouth and throat combine with those which move the chest. Had the sculptor re- presented Laocoon as if the sound flowed from his open mouth, there would have been a strange inconsistency with the elevated condition of his breast. Neither is it correct to buppose it possible that a man struck down with a mortal wound, and rolling in the dust, like Homer's ill-fated heroes, can loar out like a bull. A mortal wound has an immediate influence on these vital parts and respiratorj' organs, and the attempt to cry aloud would end in a feeble wail or groan. . There is no danger that the tragedian who follows nature should oiFend the taste of an audience by actual outcry. But these critics think it necessary to refine and go beyond Kature, whereas the rule is to learn her ways, and to be cautious of adding the slightest trait of expression, or what we conceive to be such, to the simple, and because simple, the grand character of natural action ; instead of making the appeal more strongly to the senses, it is sure to weaken it. In the statue of David with his sling, there is an attempt at expression which offends good taste, because 176 EXPIiE?SION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. it is not true to nature. The artist has meant by the biting of the lip to convey the idea of resolution and energy. But that is an action intended to restrain expression, to suppress an angry emotion which is rising in the breast ; and if it be permitted, even in caricature, it must be as a sign of some trifling inconvenience, never of heroism. It is not suitable to the vigorous tone which should pervade the whole frame. That vigour cannot be otherwise represented, than by the excitement of the breast, lips, and nostrils, while the posture and the eyes give it a directiott and meaning. This is all destroyed by an expression so weak and inconsistent as biting the lip ; it is vulgar, not because it is common, but because it is a trick, and not true to nature. The " Dying Gladiator " is one of those masterpieces of antiquity which exhibits a knowledge of anatomy and of man's nature. He is not resting; he is not falling ; but in the position of one wounded in the chest and seeking relief in that anxious and oppressed breath- ing which attends a mortal wound vrith loss of blood. He seeks support to his arms, not to rest them or to sustain the body, but to fix them, that their action may be transferred to the chest, and thus assist the labouring respiration. The natiire of his suiferings leads to this attitude. In a man expiring from loss of blood, as the vital stream flows, the heart and lungs have the same painful feeling of want, which is produced by obstruc- tion to the breathing. As the blood is draining from him, he pants, and looks wild, and the chest heaves convulsively. And so the ancient artist has placed this statue in the posture of one who suffers the extremity of difficult respiration. The fixed condition of the shoulders, as he sustains his sinking body, shews that the powerful muscles, common to the ribs and arras, have their ac'bioQ concentrated to th3 ftniggling EXPRESSION IK EEFEKENCE TO THE BODY. 177 chest. In the same way does a man afflicted with asthma rest his hands or his elhows upon a table, stooping forwards, that the shoulders may become 178 EXPKESSION IN EEFEEENCE TO THE BODY. fixed points ; the muscles of the arm and shoulder then act as muscles of respiration, and aid in the motion of the chest, during the heaving and anxiety which helong to the disease. When a man is mortally wounded, and still more if he he bleeding to death as the gladiator, he presents the appearance of suffocation ; for the want is felt in the breast, and relief is sought in the heaving of the chest. If he have at that moment the sympathy and aid of a friend, he will cling to him, half raising himself and twisting his chest with the utmost exertion ; and while every muscle of the trimk stands out abrupt and prominent, those of the neck and throat, and nostrils and mouth, will partake the excitement. In this condition he will remain fixed, and then fall exhausted with the exertion ; it is in the moment of the chest sinking, that the voice of suffering may be heard. If he have fallen on the turf, it is not from pain, but from that indescribable agony of want and instinctive struggling, that the grass around the lifeless body is lodged and torn. So too with the actor. In order to convey to the spectator the idea of human nature agitated by passion or suffering, he must study how the parts of the frame are imited and co-operate in expression. Of the success of such an effort we had lately an example on our own stage. It was in witnessing the struggles of a man who had received the mortal thrust, and the representation was horribly correct. The actor having rubbed the paint from his face, presented a hollow cheek, with the countenance haggard and pale; but it was the heaving of the shoulders attending his deep and painful inspiration, — his difficult utterance, — the gurgling of his voice, as if the blood impeded the breath, which made altogether a most powerfully drawn representation of violent death. Even those EXPRESSION IN EKFEBENOE TO THE BODY. 179 who knew nothing of the cause of their being moved felt that it was correct. But let us take a less appalling instance of the consent of the frame with the functions of the heart and lungs. It is this connexion between the muscles of the chest and arms which makes a little man oppressed by obesity speak with abrupt gesticulation. His emphatic words are forced out in barking tones accompanied by jerks and twists of the arms, the reverse of grace; while a tall and ungainly person exhibits an awkwardness of an opposite kind, in a disjointed swing of his arms during the efforts of his elocution. Are we not now authorised to say, that expression is to passion what language is to thought : that as without I words to represent ideas, the reasoning faculties of man ' oould not be fully exercised, so there could be no violence or excess of passion merely in the mind, and independent of the action of the body ? As our thoughts are embodied and the reasoning powers developed by the instrument of speech, the passions or emotions have also a corresponding organ to give them a determined (^ character and force. The bodily frame, though second- ary and inferior, comes in aid of the mind; and the faculties owe their development as much to the operation of the instruments of expression as to the impressions of the outward senses. It is also curious that expression appears to precede the intellectual operations. The smile that dimples an infant's cheek, which in after-years corresponds with pleasurable and complex emotions, cannot have its origin from such ideas. This expression is not first seen when the infant is awake, but oftener while asleep; and this first beam of pleasure to a mother's eye is met with the cold observation of the wise old women, that K 2 180 EXPRESSION IN EEFEEENCE TO THE BODY. it is caused by some internal convulsion. They con- clude that the child's intellects are not yet matured to correspond with the expression, and attribute the effect to some internal irritation. The expression is in fact the spontaneous operation and classification of the muscles, which await the development of the faculties to accompany them closely when they do arise, and in some measure to control them during life. It may be too much to affirm, that without the co- operation of these organs of the frame the mind would remain a blank ; but surely the mind must owe something to its connexion with an operation of the features which precedes its own conscious activity, and which is unerring in its exercise from the very commencement. The expression of pain in an infant is extraordinary*^ in force and caricature ; the expression of laughter is pure in the highest possible degree, as indicating unalloyed pleasure, and it will relax by sympathy even the stubborn features of a stranger. Here the rudiments of expression ought to be studied, for in after-life they cease to have the pure and simple source from which they spring in infancy; the feelings are composed and restrained, the mind is in a state of more compound feeling, and the genuine characteristics of passion are to be seen only in unpremeditated bursts of great vehemence. How much influence the instrument of expression has in first rousing the mind into that state of activity which we call passion or emotion, we may learn from the power of the body to control these afiections. '" I have often observed," says Burke, " that on mimicking the looks and gestures of angry, or placid, or frightened, or daring men, I have involuntarily found my mind turned to that passion whose appearance I endeavoured to imitate." EXPEESSION IN EEFEEENCE TO THE BODY. 181 Whether it be possible to mould the body, and thus K steal into another's thoughts, I know not ; but it is of Eaore consequence to recollect that we may in this way ascertain our own. As the actions and expressions of the body betray the emotions of the heart, we may be startled and forewarned, as it were, by the reflection of ourselves, and at the same time leam to control our passions by restraining their expression. As we hold our breath and throw ourselves into aa opposite action to restrain the ludicrous idea which would cause us to break out in rude laughter, so may we moderate other rising impulses, by checking the expression of them ; and by composing the body, we put a rein upon our very thoughts. The powers of language are so great, and minister in so superior a manner to reason and the higher faculties of the mind, that the language of expression, which attends the development of these powers, is in a manner superseded ; good taste and good manners retain it in habitual sub- crdination. We esteem and honour that man most who subdues the passions which directly refer to himself, and cultivates those which have their source in bene- volence — who resists his own gratification, and enters warmly by sympathy into what others feel — who despises direct pleasures, and cultivates those enjoyments in which he participates with others. " Whatever is morally just is beautiful in art ;" the expression of pain, proceeding from the mere suffering of the body, is repulsive in representation, while the heroic pangs which the artist may raise to the highest degree of expression, in compassion or sympathy with another's sufferings, cannot be too powerfully portrayed, if they be consistent with nature and truth. In studying expression the artist should attempt all, even that which is disagreeable, so that in higher com- position he may avoid deformity and every debasing 182 EXPCESSION IN EEPEHENCE TO THE BODY. expression, and this not by chance, but by knowing them and avoiding them ; by this means — and it was followed by the ancients — his power of representation will be improved, and what is dignified and beautiful in form and expression more certainly attained. ( 183 ) ESSAY IX, or THE STUDY OF ANATOMY AS NECESSARY TO DKSION. 0» THE IDEAL, IN THE EBPEESENTATION OF THE BODY. OF THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONA- KOTTI. Were I to attempt a definition of tlie ideal in the repre- sentation of the body, or of the head and face, I should adopt, as the most harmless to the sculptor or painter, that which has been given by Oicognara. " The ideal in art," says he, " is nothing more than the imitation of an object as it ought to be in perfect nature, divested of the errors or distortions which secondary causes produce." He takes for granted that man, like every thing else, has degenerated from the original design of nature, and " that we ought to endeavour to present his form as when he rose a newly-created being, before misery and famine, cold or excess of heat, had influence upon his frame. To accomplish this, the artist has to contemplate those acknowledged beauties in the Venus, in the youthful Apollo, in the vigorous Athlet8B,.and in the Hercules. From such sources he must select the perfect forms, which are now to be found no longer in nature, and recompose them into a beautiful whole." This is at least intelligible, and, to a certain degree practicable. It divests the subject of that mystery •which those throw over it who would persuade the artist that to represent perfection of form, he must avoid what is human, and retain what is divine. 184 OF DESIGW. But, when this is attained, and the drawing of the figure is unobjectionable, a higher object still is to be^ found, in a deeper meditation on human nature. Senti- ment and expression may be impressed on the figure, as on the face ; but they must be made appropriate to their situation. Some of the most beautiful remains of Grecian art, when deposited in churches, appear out of place ; while, in the same situation, the statues of Michael Angelo seem perfectly congenial. The noble forms and grave attitudes of his statues, in the sombre light of the aisles, lead memory back to all that is great in times gone by. Those magnificent designs have the effect of a passage in the historian or the poet, when the reader closes the book to indulge in the associations of ideas which have been awakened. But, were they placed in a gallery or saloon, they might with more propriety be subjected to the flippant criticisms which they have met with. Individuals, as well as nations, have different manners of representing the same objects, — the human figure, for example. The Egyptians, the Greeks, the people of Hiudostan, or of Europe, will raise a monument with more marked peculiarities than are seen even in the designs of Michael Angelo, Correggio, and Eaphael ; care, therefore, should be taken to give full scope to dif- ferent dispositions, capacities, or tastes. I cannot help saying, that the method of study in the academies tends to cramp the efforts of genius. In the Academy of Bologna I found the students copying from the plaster- casts, as our youths do at home ; and if some means be not afforded to encourage individual genius, tameness and mediocrity must be the result. I think the remedy is to be found in the study of anatomy. There has been much unnecessary ingenuity exercised on the question whether the ancients studied anatomy. Undoubtedly they did not study it in our fashion ; yet OP DESIGN, 185 that they possossed all the knowledge of it -which art requires, cannot be denied. The liner specimens of ancient statuary evince a more perfect acquaintance with anatomy, as far as it ijs shewn in the propor- tions, general forms, and action of the body, than the productions of those modem sculptors and painters who have pursued this art with the greatest zeal and success,— even than Michael Angelo, himself. The only question therefore is, how they acquired this knowledge. Although in Greece the dead were burned, and no artists dissected the human body, yet they certainly had the means of learning the nature of a bone, muscle, and tendon. No more was necessary; the rest was before them. Fine as their athletae were in youth, they were subject to the decay of age. Now, in comparing the frame of a man advanced in years, especially if in early life he had been remarkable for "thews and sinews," with the young and active, everything essential to the painter and the sculptor may be observed. If the Greeks had before them the most admired forms of youth and manhood, they had also the " time honoured wrest- ler," who in old age exhibited, almost as in the dead anatomy, every muscle, origin and insertion, every ten- don, and every vein. I know how far this manner of demonstrating the anatomy may be carried. Having in my lectures on surgery taken the living man, the academy model, to illustrate the practice in fractures and dislocations, I was accustomed to introduce a powerful muscular fellow to my class, with this ap- peal : — " In the exercise of your profession you have to judge of the displacement of the Hmbs, and the joints disfigured by dislocation, fractures, or tumour ; but not one of you, perhaps, has ever looked on the natural body itself." In giving these lessons, I became aware how much of the structure of the muscles and 186 OF THE GENIDS AND STUDIES Of irticulations might he demonstrated without actual dissection In the heat of the southern countries of Europe, the workmen, the Galeotti, or men condemned to the puhlic works, the young people and children, are all accustomed to a state of nudity ; the naked form becomes, therefore, familiar to the eye. In the same day 1 made careful examinations of the anatomical studies of Michael Angelo, in the collection of the Grand Duke of Florence, and compared them with his noble works in the tombs of the Medici. I observed that he had avoided the error of artists of less genius, who, in shewing their learning, deviate from living nature. I recognised the utmost accuracy of anatomy in the great artist's studies ; in his pen-and- ink sketches of the knee, for example, every point of bone, muscle, tendon, and ligament was marked, and perhaps a little exaggerated. But on surveying the limbs of those fine statues, this peculiarity was not visible ; there were none of the details of the anatomy, but only the effects of muscular action, as seen in life, not the muscles. As, perhaps, this is the most im- portant lesson which can be given to the artist, I shall venture to transcribe the notes I made at the time. " The statue of Lorenzo di Medici, Duca d'Urbino, by Michael Angelo, is in the Capella di Principi, of the church of St. Lorenzo. Under the statue are two figures, one of Twilight, the other of Daybreak. I observed in the male figure, which is of very grand proportions, the clavicle or collar-bone, the head of the humerus, the deltoid and pectoral muscles develcpei beyond nature, yet singularly true in the anatomy Such a shoulder was never seen in man, yet so finely ia it imagined, that no one part is unduly exaggerated ; but aU is magnified with so perfect a knowledge, that it is THE ANCIENT AETISTS. 187 just as a wliole, the bone and the imisole corresponding in their proportions. In the same chapel are the statues of Giuliano di Medici, Duke of Nemours, and brother of Leo X., with the recumbent figures of Day and Night. It is in these finely-conceived figures that we have the proof of Michael Angelo's genius. They may not have the perfect purity and truth that we see in the antique ; but there is a magnificence, which belongs to him alone. Here we see the efiect of muscular action, without affected display of anatomical knowledge. The back IS marvellously fine. The position of the scapula, for example, makes its lower angle throw up the edge of the latissimus dorsi, for the scapula is forced back upon the spine, in consequence of the position of the arm. Michael Angelo must have carefully studied the ana- tomy in reference to the changes produced in the living body by the action of its members : the shifting of the scapula, with the consequent rising of the mass of muscles, some in action, some merely pushed into masses, are very finely shewn." * Having just come from observing his sketches of the anatomy of the knee-joint, I was curious in my observa- tion of the manner in which he made his knowledge available in the joints of these fine statues ; and they gave rise to the following remarks. "If an artist, with a knowledge of the structure, look upon the knee in a bent positio'n, he will recognise the different bones and ligaments. But if he look upon it in an extended position of the limb, or during exer- tion, he will not distinguish the same parts. The contour, the swelling of the integument, and the fulness around the joint, are not produced by the -forms of the bones, but by the rising up of the parts displaced by * I might make similar remarks on the statue by John of Bologna — Januarius sitting, shivering under a shower, in a fountain in the Villa-Petraia, near Florence. 188 ON THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF the new position of the bones. The fatty cusliions which are within and external to the knee-joint, and which serve the purpose of friction-wheels in. the play of the bones upon each other, no longer occupy the same relative places; they are protruded from the depth of the cavity to the surface. How well Michael Angelo knew this these statues of Day and Night evince. " In these statues, great feeling of art and genius of the highest order have been exhibited; anatomical science, ideal beauty, or rather grandeur, combined. It is often said that Michael Angelo studied the Belvi- ere Torso, and that he kept it continually in his eye. That fine specimen of ancient art may have been the authority for his grand development of the human muscles ; but it did not convey to him the effect which he produced by the throwing out of those magnifi.cent and giant limbs. Here we see the vigour of this sculptor's stroke and the firmness of his touch, as well as his sublime conception of the human figure. We can imagine that he wrought by no measure or me chanical contrivance ; that he hewed out the marble as another would cast together his mass of clay in a first sketch. Many of his finest works are left unfinished ; it appears that he found the block of marble in some instances too small, and left the design incomplete.* * There Is one unfinished production of Michael Angelo -which discloses his manner of working ; a statue of St. Matthew, begun on a block of marble, so small, that it appears to have restrained him. The figure is distorted, and he seems to have given up the work before it was more than blocked out of the marl)le A contemporary gives an interesting account of the energy which possessed him -while at work. " I have seen Michael Angelo, when above sixty, and not very robust, make more fragments of the marble fly off in a quarter of an hour than three vigorous young sculptors would have done in an hour; and he worked with so much impetuosity, and put such strength into hia blows, that I feared he would have broken the whole in pieces, for portions, the (ize of three or four finfmri wnie struck off so near to the coutoui MICHAEL ANGELO BDONAROTTI. 189 For my own part I feel that the finish and smoothneBS of the marble is hardly consistent with the vigour of IVlichael Angelo's conceptions ; and I should regret to think that such a genius should have wasted an hour in giving softness or polish to the surface. " Who is there, modem or ancient, that would thus voluntarily encounter all the difficulties of the art and throw the human hody into this position, or who could throw the shoulder into this violent distortion, and yet preserve the relations of the parts, of hone and muscle, with such scientific exactness? We have in this great master a proof of the manner in which genius submits to labour, in order to attain perfection. He must have undergone the severe toil of the ana- tomist, to acquire such a power of design, which it was hardly to be supposed could be sufficiently appreciated then or now. " Without denying the beauty or correctness of the true Grecian productions of the chisel, they ought not to be contrasted with the works of Michael Angelo to his disadvantage. He had a noble conception of the august form of man : to my thinking, superior to any- thing exhibited in ancient sculpture. Visconti * im- putes inferiority to Buonarotti; and to confirm his views, compares the antique statues restored by him, with the limbs and heads which he added. But I can conceive nothing less suited to the genius of the artist than this task of modelling and adjusting a limb in a different position from that which is entire, and yet so as to preserve the proportions and .character of the whole. The manner of his working and the urgency of his genius for an unrestrained field of exertion, or outline, that, if he erred by a hair's-breadth, he would have spoiled all and lost his labour, since the defect could not have been remedied as in working in clay." — Blaise de Yigenere, * Museo Pio. Clem. 190 STUDIES OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAEOTTI. unfitted him for that kind of labour, while it is a matter of necessity, that a copy shall be inferior to an original. " What the figures of Night and Morning had to do before the degenerate son of the Medici is another matter. They seem to have been placed there as mere ornaments, and in the luxury of talent, to give the form and posture of the human figure, 'per ornamento e per solo spoggio di giacitura e de' forme.' " When in Eome I was impatient until I stood before the statue of Moses, so much had been said of its extraordinary merit,* and also so much of its defects.! It is a noble figure, with all the energy of Buonarotti displayed in it. It is not the ana- tomy alone which constitutes its perfection; but there is the same mind displayed in the attitude, the habiliment, the beard, and all the accompaniments, as in the vigour of the naked shoulders and arms. It is the realisation of his high conception of the human figure. " My brother, in his ' Observations on Italy,' finds fault with the arm, and, perhaps, looking in one direction, it may be imperfect ; but this was one of many figures which were intended by the artist to ornament the great monument to Julius II. ; and, consequently, designed to be seen only in a cert-ain aspect.| Besides, we ought rather to teach ourselves to admire what is esteemed excellent than to seek for defects. As to other criticisms on this statue, it should be remembered that it is an ideal figure as much as the Apollo or the Jupiter. From whatever notion derived, Moses is represented with horns rising from his temples ; * " Questo e Mosfe quando soenda del monte E gran parte del Nume avea nel volto." t " E una testa da satiro con oapelli di poroo." t See the account of this great work in the "Storia della Boultura," by Cicognara. ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE MUSCLES. 191 an adjunct whicli, placed either on tlie face of the antique or of common nature, would have heen truly ridiculous." To resume the subject of anatomy; we may take the opinion of Vasari : * in addition to the study of the an- tique he recommends the frequent examination of the naked figure, of the action of the muscles of the back and limbs, and the form and play of the joints ; and takes occasion to advise the study of the dissected body, in order to see the true position of the muscles, theii classification and insertions ; so that by perfect know- ledge of the structure the artist may with more secu- rity represent the figure in every varying attitude, bestowing, through a knowledge of their action, the proper swelling and contour of the muscles, according to their position and the force exerted ; and from this, he truly observes, comes the power of invention, giving natural variety to the figures, as in the representation of a battle or great historical work. And here I cannot help expressing a belief that, as it is necessary that the young artist should have an accurate eye to form, the drawing of the bones should be substituted for what is called the "round," that is, the fine indefinite and undulating surface of the antique. By drawing the curious shapes of the thigh- bone or tibia, he will sooner acquire a notion of external form than if set to draw a foot and ankle, or knee without an idea of what produces the convexities which he is tracing. Drawing from the bones and from the skeleton will give him a desire for learning more, and afford an introduction to the classification and insertions of the muscles, with perfect ease in representing, either from nature or the antique, the slightly defined forms ii the joints. But, as we have seen in the works of the masters, let » I2 his Pretiioe, " Da che habbia origine U buon disegno." 192 ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE MUSCLES. him avoid exhibiting the anatomy or displaying his knowledge, else he will fall into the caricature of I'useli, instead of attaining the vigour of Buona- rotti. Anatomy is not to be displayed, but its true use is to beget an accurate observation of na'ure in those slighter characteristics which escape a less learned eye. ( 193 ) ESSAY X. OSES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER — FAULTS INTO WHICH ARTISTS MAT BE BETRAYED IN STUDYING THE ANTIQUE OR IN DRAWING FROM THE ACADEMY FIGURE — ANAT0M7 AS coNDaoriNG to truth of expression and of cha- racter. It is interesting in a very high degree to mark the traits of emotion, and to compare them with the anatomical structure ; and amidst the severer studies of anatomy, as connected with health and disease, I have been able, without departing too far from professional pursuits and duties, to pass many pleasant hours in observing and investigating the anatomy of expression. In the prosecution of anatomy we never know to what results it may lead. The observations I have made on the nervous system might be traced to investigations , on the present subject. I saw that the whole frame is affected sympathetically with expression in the coun- tenance ; and it was in trying to explain that sympathy, that I was led to ascertain, that there exists in the body a distinct system of nerves, the office of which is to influence the muscles in Eespiration, in Speech, and in Expression. The study of the animal frame, as it is affected by emotion and passion, is nearly related to philosophy, and is a subject of great difficulty and delicacy. The question is often discussed, of what use is anatomy to tixe painter ? The study of anatomy has been objected to by some persons of pure taste, and from the belief 194 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. that it leads to the representation of the lineaments of death more than of life, or to monstrous exaggerations of forms. So far this is the case, when an artist without natural talent, or right feeling, will rather exhibit the bones or muscles than the fine forms of health and vigour. But we return to the question, what are the advantages to be gained from this study by the artist ? As we may define anatomy to be the examination of that structure by which the mind expre.=ses emotion, and through which the emotions are controlled and modified, it introduces us to the know- ledge of the relations and mutual influences which exist between the mind and the body. To the painter, therefore, the study is necessarily one of great import- ance ; it does not teach him to use his pencil, but it teaches him to observe nature, to see forms in their minute varieties, which but for the principles here elucidated would pass unnoticed, — to catch expressions so evanescent that they must escape him, did he not know their sources. It is this reducing of things to their principles which elevates his art into a connexion with philosophy, and which gives it the character of a liberal art. By anatomy in its relation to the arts of design, 1 understand not merely the study of the individual and dissected muscles of the face, or body, or limbs, — but the observation of all the characteristic varieties which distinguish the frame of the body or countenance. A knowledge of the peculiarities of infancy, youth, or age ; of sickness or robust health ; or of the contrasts between manly and muscular strength and feminine delicacy ; Dr of the appearances which pain or death present, belongs to its province as much as the study of the muscles of the face when affected m emotion. Viewed in this comprehensive light, anatomy forms a science, not only of great interest, but one which will be sure to USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 195 give the artist a true spirit of observation, teacli him to distinguish what is essential to just expression, and direct his attention to appearances on which the effect and force, as well as the delicacy of his delineations, will bo found to depend. Among the errors into which a young artist is most likel3' to be seduced, there are two against which the study of anatomy seems well calculated to guard him. The one is a blind and indiscriminate imitation of the antique ; the other, an idea that he will find in the academy figure a sure guide for delineating the natural and true anatomy of the living body. He who makes imitation of the antique the beginning and end of his studies, instead of adopting it as a corrective of his taste, will be apt to fall into a tame and lifeless style ; and, in pursuing ideal beauty, will be in danger of renouncing truth of expression and of character. Nay, I suspect that many painters have copied casts of the antique for years, without perfectly understanding what they should imitate, or even perceiving the neces- sity of previously studying the design of the artist, oi the peculiarities of his mode of composition. Into this fault, one who is learned in the science and anatomy of painting can never fall. But he who has- not compared the natural with the antique head, nor imderstood the characteristic differences, nor studied the principle on which the ancient artists composed, may be betrayed into the grossest misconceptions, by too implicitly following their models. In painting a hero, for ex- ample, on whom the Greek artist would have bestowed a character of strength and grandeur, by bold anatomy and expression, he may be following the ideal form of a deity inwhich the sculptor had studiously divested hia model of all that might seem to pertain to humanity. As I have before remarked, the ancient sculptor, in accordance with the mythology of his country and the 2 196 PSES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. spirit of her poetry, studied to shew the attributes of divinity in the repose of the figure, without any indi- .cation of muscles or veins, and hy a face stamped with the mild serenity of a being superior to human passion ; thus shadowing out a state of existence, in which the will possessed freedom and activity, without the ac- companying exertion of the bodily frame. But those ideal forms are scarcely ever to be transferred to the representation of the human body ; and a modem artist who follows indiscriminately such models, misapplies the noblest lessons of his art. Independently of the ideal form of divinity, there are also some peculiarities in the nature of the ancient sculpture which ought to be well considered by the student in modern painting. In the infancy of their art, sculptors did not venture to give to their figures either animation or character; they did not even open their eyelids, or raise the arm from the side. A stillness and simplicity of composition were thus the characteristics of ancient sculpture ; and we are told that Perijjles, even in the best period of Grecian art, was anxious that his pupils should preserve this feature of the early ages in all their works, as essential to grandeur. The pleasure of being carried back to old times seems to be a part of our nature, or, at least, of the cultivated mind. So Pliny speaks of retaining in everything about a villa its ancient sim- plicity. It is observed accordingly, that among the exrcllencies which distinguish the Greek artists, the first and most admirable is that gravity of style, — that sedate grandeur of expression, and prevailing tranquillity of soul which still appear under the most terribl agita- tion and passion. Upon this chaste model the taste in sculpture was formed in the better ages of Greece and Rome, and its influence has extended to modern times. Unfortunately this style of composition has boeL USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. l[/7 taken as an additional authority for rejecting powerful expression and character even from the canvass. But, we must never forget the distinction between sculpture and painting. The sculptor, indeed, as well as the painter, has often to represent what is not consistent with heauty ; while both must sometimes preserve an indefiniteness, and soften all the harsher, though strictly natural lines of expression. If the statues of Michael Angelo and John of Bologna were as familiar to us as the casts o£ the antique, they would probably modify the prevailing opinions on this subject. Still there is an essential difference between the principle of composition in painting and in sculpture. In the works of ancient artists we see a perpetual effort to exalt their productions above the commonness of nature. They studied a grand and general effect, avoiding the representation of minuteness or sharpness of feature, and of convulsions or distortions, however strictly natural ; and, indeed, it is scarcely consistent with the character of a statue to represent the transitory effects of violent passion. The sculptor must exercise ^^ his genius on the more sublime and permanent feelings, as characterised in the countenance and figure; and much of the difSculty of his art consists in preventing the repose which ought to be preserved in the attitude and expression, from extinguishing all character, and degenerating into tameness and indifference. It is repose, and not absence of expression, that is to be aimed at. The flashes of passion do not assort with the material, while the languor and the gloom of the features in grief are quite consistent with it. The slaves and mutes on the pedestal of a monumental statue may contribute to the effect; they are mere accessories, — as the frame to the picture. But this principle does not apply to the painter ; to trans'er to his art the rules of composition T-hich flow from the 198 USES OP ANATOMY TO THE PAINTEE. study of ancient sculpture would endanger all in which it is most excellent. As his materials do not permit a close imitation of the actual forms of nature, a stronger, and more natural character is to be adopted on the canvass, than is proper to a statue. It is true, that he may often maintain much of the same gravity of style as the statuary, and that, in such compositions there may he a certain august majesty ; some suhjeots require this, and others only admit of it, provided the tone and principle of composition he preserved, and the colouring be low and sombre. In general, however, this is neither Decessary, nor perhaps suitable to a picture ; and it may DC at least laid down, that where there is bold light and vivid colouring, there should also be strong expression, and bold characteristic drawing. A painting, with high finishing and bright colouring, demands minute ex- pression, because the same circumstances which display the natural colour, bring out a clear disclosure of the parts, and a sharpness of expression in the features. Thus the painter must study the traits of human expression. The noblest aim of painting is unquestion- ably to affect the mind, which can only be done by the representation of sentiment and passion, — of emotion as indicated by the figure and the countenance. But if it be contended that an imposing stillness and tranquillity must pervade the higher subjects of painting, I venture to affirm that it is a tranquillity which he can never attain who is not capable of representing all the violence and agitation of passion. It is not such repose as the artist who has despised or neglected natural cha- racter may be able to represent, but such as he alone can conceive and execute, who has studied all the variety of expression, and learned the anatomy of the face and limbs in their most violent action. Nay, tranquillity or repose in the strict sense of the words, can only be truly represented by one who can with USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 199 equal facility give energy to the features and figure ; for in rest there must be character, and thai character will best be expressed by him who has studied the effect of the action of the muscles. It ought also to be remembered that repose and agitation must ever greatly depend on contrast and opposition. There are few grand subjects in history or mythology, in which the tranquillity and higher beauty of expression in the main figure does not borrow some aid from the contrast of the harsher features, more marked characters, and more passionate gestures of the surrounding groups. Perhaps I have sufficiently pointed out how dangerous it is for one who aims at excelling as a painter to imi- tate too closely and indiscriminately the productions of ancient sculpture. But it is natural for the student to believe that the study of the academy figure may serve as a guard against all such danger ; and aiford him a sure criterion for judging of the anatomy of his figures. Where is the artist to find the principles of his art ■when he desires to express mental suffering under all those influences which form the subjects of design in the higher departments of art, and especially in historical painting ; is he to grimace at himself in a mirror ? — then he falls into caricature : is he to study the expression of the actor? — then he represents what is fantastic and theatrical. For what may be correct representation on the stage is not correct in painting, any more than it would be correct for the tragedian to display on the stage those traits of expression with which the physician is alone supposed to be familiar. Powers of observation, cultivated by good taste, lead us to dis- tinguish what is appropriate. The physician in study- ing symptoms, the actor in personifying suffering, the painter in representing it, or the statuary in embodying it in marble, are observers of nature ; but each sees her differently, and with a feeling influenced by his pursuit. 200 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. The study of the academy figure is, undoubtedly, essen- tial ; but unless followed with some regard to science, it necessarily leads to error. In the first place, it can give no aid in reference to the countenance. Here the lessons of anatomy, associated with the descrip- tions of the great poets, and the study of the works of eminent painters and sculptors, afford the only re- source, But even for attaining a correct knowledge of the body and limbs, the academy figure is far from being an infallible guide. The display of muscular action in the human figure is but momentary, and cannot be retained and fixed for the imitation of the artist. The effect produced upon the surface of the body and limbs by the action of the muscles —the swelling and receding of the fleshy parts, and that starting out of the sinews or tendons, which accompany exertion or change of posture, cannot be observed with sufficient accuracy, unless the artist is able to class the muscles engaged in the action ; and he requires some other guide to enable him to recollect these varying forms, than that which is afforded by a transitory view of them. When the academy figure first strips himself, there is a symmetry and accordance in all the limbs ; but when screwed up into a posture, they indicate constraint and want of balance. It cannot be supposed that when a man has the support of ropes to preserve him in a position of exertion, the same action of muscles can be displayed as if the limbs were supported by their own efforts ; hence in all academy drawings we may perceive something wrong from the ropes not being represented along with the figure. In natural action there is a consent and symmetry in every part. When a man clenches his fist in passion, the other arm does not lie in elegant relaxation ; when the face is stem and vindictive, there is energj- in the whole frame ; when a man rises from his seat in impassioned gesture, a certain tension and straining pervades every limb and featura USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 201 This universal state of the body it is difficult to excite in those who are accustomed to sit to painters ; they watch his eye, and where they see him intent, they exert the muscles. The painter, therefore, cannot trust to the man throwing himself into a natural posture ; he must direct him, and be himself able to catch, as it were intuitivety, what is natural and reject what is constrained. Besides, those soldiers and mechanics who are employed as academy figures are often awkward and unwieldly ; hard labour, or the stiff habits of military training, have impaired the natural and easy motion of their joints. Until the artist has gained a perfect knowledge of the muscles, and is able to represent them in action without losing the general balance of the figure, he is apt to produce an appearance like spasm or cramp in the limbs, from one part being in action, while the other is in repose. For it is always to be remembered, that whether the body be alive or dead, whether the limbs be in action or relaxed in sleep, an uniform character must pervade the composition. Whether the gently undulating line of relaxed muscle be the p];evailing outline, or the parts be large and strong, and the muscles prominent, bold and turgid, there must be perfect accordance, or there will be no truth of expression. I think, that in the sketches, and even in the finished paintings of some artists, I have observed the effect of continuing to draw from the model or from the naked figure, without due attention to the regulated action of the muscles. I have seen paintings, where the grouping was excellent and the proportions exact, yet the figures stood in attitudes when they were meant to be in action ; they were fixed as statues, and communicated to the spectator no idea of exertion or of motion. This sometimes proceeds, I have no doubt, from a long- oontinned contemplation of the antique, but more fre- quently from drawing after the stUl and spiritlesa 202 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTEE. academy figure. The knowledge of anatomy is neces- Bary to correct this ; hut chiefly, a familiar acquaintance with the classification of the muscles, and the pecu- liarities and effect of their action. The true use of the living figure is this ; — after the artist has studied the structure of the bones and the groupings of the muscles, he should observe attentively the play of the muscles and tendons when the body is thrown into action and attitudes of violent exertion ; — he should especially mark their changes during the striking out of the limbs. By such a course of ob- servation he will soon be able to distinguish between posture and action, and to avoid that tameness which results from neglecting the effects of the alternate contraction and relaxation of the muscles. And with this view, after having learned to draw the figure, the painter would do well to make the model go through the exercise of pitching the bar, or throwing, or striking. 1e will then find that it is chiefly when straining in a fixed posture that there is a general tension and equal prominence of the muscles ; and that in the free actions of the limbs, a few muscles only swell out, while their opponents are relaxed and flattened. He will not, perhaps, be able at once to catch the character of muscular expression, and commit it to paper ; but having an accurate knowledge of the muscles, according to their uses, ana the effect of each action in calling particular sets of them into activity, knowing to what points his observation should be applied, and how his preconceived notions are to be corrected by the actual appearance of the limb, each succeeding exhibition of muscular exertion will advance his progress in the delineation of the figure. Hence it may well be said, that anatomy is the true basis of the arts of design ; and it will infallibly lead those to perfection who, favoured with genius, can combine truth and simplicity with the higher graces and charms of the art. It USES OP ANATOMY TO THE PAINTEl!. 203 bestows on the painter a minuteness and readii.ess of observation, which he cannot otherwise attain ; and I am persuaded, that while it enables him to give vigour to the whole form, it teaches hiin to represent niceties of expression, which would otherwise pass unnoticed. Even in drawing from a particular model, the artist versed in anatomy has a great superiority. When I have Been one unacquainted with the internal structure, drawing from the naked figure or from a statue, I have remarked the difficulty which he experienced in shewing the course of a swelling muscle or the slight depressions and convexities about a joint; and this difficulty might be traced to his ignorance of the relations and-actions of the muscles. The same perplexity he often feels in drawing the knobbed ends of the bones or the insertions of the tendons, at the articulations : for these parts being covered over by the integuments, and cushions of fat of variable thickness, and sheathed in membranes, are but faintly marked on the surface. The delicate and less definite indications of the anatomy, though easily traced by one acquainted with the structure of the limb, appear to the i;ninformed only unmeaning variations in the outline ; he has no means of judging their importance, and he is subject to continual mistakes in attempting to imitate them. Suppose that a young artist, not previously grounded in anatomy, is about to sketch a figure or a limb, his execution will be feeble, and he will commit many errors if he endeavour merely to copy what is placed before him — to transcribe, as it were, a language which he does not understand. He sees an undulating surface, with the bones and processes of the joints faintly marked; he neglects the peculiar swelling of the muscles, to which he should give force, as implying motion ; he makes roundings merely ; he is incapable of representing the elegant ciirved outline of beauty, with decision and accuracy, and of preserving at the same 204 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. time tlie characters of living action. Drawing wLat he does not understand, he falls into tameness or deviates into caricature. But with a knowledge of anatomy, if he atl empt the same task, his acquaintance with the skeleton will enable him to make his first outline of the figure with truth and ease, and preserve its various proportions ; and the study of the muscles will enable him to give force to the muscular parts, and to represent the joints accurately without exaggeration. It is, however, in composing, much more than in copying, that this knowledge is truly useful Without it, all the original efforts of genius must be checked and repressed. Every change of posture is accompanied by muscular action, and in proportion to the painter's ignor- ance of the cause of those changes, all his designs will be cramped and resti ained. Leonardo da Vinci gives formally as a precept, what is self-evident to an ana- tomist ; " In naked figures, those members must show their muscles most distinctly and boldly, upon which the greatest stress is laid ; in comparison with which the rest must appear enervate.'' " Eemember, further, to make the muscles most visible on that side of any member which it puts forward to action." Such rules and precepts are rather the result of anatomical study than useful to one ignorant of the subject, in pointing out how effect is to be produced. It is not by following such recom- mendations that the end is to be accomplished, but by enriching the mind with frequent observation of the changes which are displayed by action, and forming rules for their reprejsentation. For example, in vigorous action there is a general tension of the whole frame ; but in order to produce a particular motion, a certain class of muscles is brought into stronger action than the rest ; and the nature of the motion is expressed by marking the arrangement of the muscles. If a man be merely pointing upwards, a graceful simplicity may be TJSTilS OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 205 all that tlie painter can attain, or should attempt ; but if he is bringing down a heavy sword to make a blow, the muscles will start into strong exertion, and the idea of mighty action will be conveyed by repre- Bontiug those swelling muscles of the chest which pull down the arm and give the sweep to the whole body. Thus, to compose with truth and force, it is necessary that the painter should not only know the place and form of the bones and muscles, but that he should also have an accurate conception of the classing of the muscles in action.* Perhaps I may best convey my idea oi the advantage to be derived from this study, by contrasting two young artists drawing from a figure ; the one trusting to his untutored genius, the other assisted by a knowledge of anatomy. The first is seen copying bit by bit, and * " Socrates one day paid a visit to Clito, the statuary, and in the course of conversation said to liiin, ' We all know, Clito, that you execute a variety of figures ; some in the attitude of the race, and others in the several exercises of wrestling, of pugilism, and of the pancratium ; but with regard to the quality wljioli particularly captivates the soul of the spectator, — I mean their correct resem- blance to the life, — how is this property wrought into your pro- ductions ? ' As Clito hesitated for a reply, Socrates quickly rejoins, •Is it not by endeavouring to imitate the configuration of the bodies of those who are actually engafjed in those exertions of skill and activity that you succeed ? ' ' Without doubt,' said the artist. ' Well, then,' resumed the philosopher, ' you study, under the various gestures and attitudes of the living body, what parts are drawn up out of their natural situation, or carritd in a contrary direction below it. Some which undergo compression, others an unnatural elevation; some which are thrown into a state of extension, others which become relaxed ; all this you imitate, and hence you produce that fidelity, that aci'uracy, which we admire.' The artist ac- quiesced in the remark. 'And the expression of the passions^ ai'ain, — how great a pleasure does this produce to the spectator ! ' Surely,' replied Clito. ' Thus those who are in the actual conflict of the battle, are they not to be represented as bearing menaces in their eyes, while satisfaction and joy should sit upon the coun- tenances of the victorious ? ' ' Unquestionably.' ' It is then equally the business of the statuary to transfuse into his pro- ductions the workings and emotions of the miud.'" — Xbnophon; Memorabilia, Lib. iii. cftp. s. p. 6. 206 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. measuring from point to point ; and tlie effect, aftol muoh labour, is an accurate outline. The other seizes the chief characters of the attitude with facility ; be- cause his knowledge of the skeleton has enabled him to balance the trunk upon the limbs, and give the con- tours boldly. The turn of the limbs, the masses of muscle, and the general forms of the joints, are touched with a slight but accurate hand, and the spirit and life of the original are recognised at once. Even in the early stage of his drawing, while his rival is copying parts, he will present the foundation of a correct and spirited sketch ; as he can convey the general idea by a few lines, he also excels in finishing the minute parts. Btit this superiority is still better shewn if the model be removed from these two young painters, and they draw the figure from recollection ; or if, keeping the model before them in its original posture, they are required to alter the attitude. Let us take for example the fighting gladiator. Instead of a young warrior pushing on with great energy, let their task be to represent him receiving the blow of his antagonist, which forces down his shield upon his breast, or brings him with his knee to the ground, as it is beautifully represented on some medals. Can we doubt for a mo- ment which will excel ? The one will copy from memorj'' his original drawing, or with great diificulty tvnst the erect limbs of the statue into a couching posture, while the other will gain by his greater freedom. Retaining the general air, like one who had understood what he copied, he is aware that a new class of muscles comes into action, while those formerly in exertion are relaxed ; he knows that the bending of the limbs increases their measurements ; he knows how to represent the joints in their new postures; in short, he gives to his figure energy and effect. It is a mistake to suppose that, because in manjr of USES OF ANATOMV TO THE PAINTEE. 207 tbe finest pictures the anatomy is but faintly indioated, the study may not be necessary to a painter. Even that which in the finished picture is intended merely to give the idea of muscular exertion, should have its foundation laid in the sketch, by a correct and strong dravidng of the full action. It is true, that the sketch is too often a mere indication of the painter's design, intended to be worked up to the truth of representation as he transfers it to the canvas, — that the outlines of the figures are rather shadowy forms, undefined in their minute parts, than studies of anatomical expression, or as guides in the subsequent labour. And, perhaps, it is for this reason that there have been many painters, whose sketches all admire, but whose finished paintings fall short of public exiiectation. But a sketch that is without vigour, and in which the anatomy has not been defined, is a bad foundation for a good picture; and even a little exaggeration in this respect is not only agreeable, but highly useful. The anatomy should be strongly marked in the original design : and from the dead colouring to the finishing, its harshness and rugged- ness should be gradually softened into the modesty of nature. The character of a sketch is spirit and life ; the finished painting must combine smoothness and accuracy. That which was a harsh outline in the sketch, or the strong marking of a swelling muscle, or the crossing of a vein, will be indicated in the finished corapo.-.ition, perhaps only by a tinge of colour. The anatomy of the finished picture will always be most successful, and even most delicate, where the jjainter has a clear conception of .the course and swelling of each muscle and vein which enters into the delineation of the action. While artists neglect the study of anatomy, as con- nected with character and expression in painting, they never can attain the " vantage ground " of their pro- fession. Perhaps it is also to be feared, that while 208 USES OP ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. only a few artists are versed in. this science, they ■will be apt to caricature nature ; they are learned ahove their rivals ; it is their forte, and they are solicitous to display it. But were the study of anatomy more general, the same spirit and love of originality, which tempt them to a style bordering on deformity, would make those very men seek distinction by combining grace, and the other qualities of fine painting, with truth and expression. It is not enough, however, that the painter should improve himself in the knowledge of anatomy : public attention must also be directed to its importance. For as necessity precedes invention in the origin of the arts, so must general good taste precede or accompany their improvement. The mere conviction in the mind of thg painter, that anatomy is essential to the per- fection of his art, will seldom be sufficient to insure his application to a very difficult and somewhat repulsive study. The knowledge and opinion of the public must force him to the task, and encourage his labour by the assurance of its merited reward. APPENDIX. THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, ALEXANDEK SHAW. In many parts of this work references are made to an Essay npon the Nervous System ; and the last edition contained such an essay. But. on examining the copy intended for the present edition, it was found that the author had drawn his pen through f.he essay, and had not composed another to supply its place. It cannot be doubted that he intended to reconstruct that part of the work; and as some account of his obsei-vations on the Nervous System, which boar upon the questions discussed in tlip volume, may be interesting, I have been requested to give a short review of his opinions. I enter upon the task with mucli diffideneo. It is stated, in various parts of the essays, that a distinct Class of Nerves is provided, in the human body, for controlling the organ of Respiration ; and that it is that class which is p]in- cipally affected by passion and emotion, so as to give rise to the phenomena of Expression. In Man, the organ of Breathing is constructed in such a i manner, that besides ministering to the oxygenation of the blood, its primary office in the economy, it is the instrument of Voice and of Expression, — two properties which bear relation to his Intellectual nature. In order to adapt the organ to these endow r 210 OF THE NERVES. ments, it is necessary tliat the mechanism should have a form and arrangement distinct from that in the lower animals, where it serves for purifying the blood alone : and as a correspondence always exists between the structure of the moving parts of the frame, and the nervous system, which regulates their actions, the change in the construction of the organ is accompanied with a change in the arrangement of the nerves. .Accordingly, by comparing the nervous system in the inferior animals, with itH order and distribution in man, the author found that a distiuct class of nerves is appropriated, in the human frame, to the or^an of Respiration : and to that class he gave the name Respiratory Nerves. B\it that conclusion was not arrived at till many other impor- tant observations had been previously made on the functions of the Nervous System. Medical science has been indebted to the author of this volume for improvements in our knowledge of the Nerves, only to be compared, for their extent and value, with those introduced by Harvey, by his discovery of the Circulation of the Blood. Although no parts of the living body have excited greater interest, since anatomy was first studied, than the Brain and the Nerves ; yet when Sir Charles Bell entered upon his researches into the subject, he found it involved in so much confusion, and surrounded by so many difBculties apparently iu- surmountable, that physiologists had almost ceased to prosecute it. Errors on points which bore on the first elements of the inquiry, had taken deep root. He succeeded in removing these errors, and in establishing a new principle of investigation. By adopting that principle as his guide, he was rewarded not only by making discoveries of the utmost value to medicine, but by com- municating a fresh impulse to the laboius of other physiologi.'.ls in the same field. The error which formerly prevailed, and had the greatest effect in retarding improvement, was this : — It was taken for granted that all parts of the nervous system had certain general properties belonging to them in common ; so that all were considered alike in function. The Brain, including the Spinal Marrow, was looked upon as a common store, from which certain powers, such as that of motion, were issued to the body, and into which others, such as sensation, were received, the nerves being regarded as the conductors; and, in conformity or THE NEBVES. 211 with that view, it was further supposed that any part ol' the brain, or any single nerve, had equal power with all the rest of bestowing the numerous properties commonly assigned to the nervous system. For the sake of illustration, let us take the nerves of the lower extremities ; which come off from the spinal marrow. It was conceived that these nerves were all simple in structure ; and that, nevertheless, they had the double pro- perty of conveying the power of motion and of sensation, to the limbs : and the spinal marrow, being regarded as a prolongation of the Brain, was believed to transmit tlie powers of motion and of sensation along the nerves, by all its parts promiscuously. Certain facts probably diverted the minds of physiologists from pei'ceiving the correct views. When we examine the structure of a Nerve, it is found to consist of a number of distinct fibrils, like threads, laid parallel, connected loosely together, and contained in a common sheath ; and when the fibrils are inspected narrowly it is impossible to perceive any difference between them ; all are exactly alike in size, colour, and consistence. This similarity of structure, it may be sup- posed, would lead, to the inference, that the functions of the fibrils were the same. Then, as to the Brain; although sub- divided into seveial masses of different forms and textures, which give the appearance at first sight of its being composed of separate organs, yet a remarkable unifonnity prevails in the general structure of the brain ; the distinct substances of which it consists (the medullary and cineritious) are so variously inter- mingled and diffused, that it seems unavoidable to conclude that its powers are held in common, and are exercised by a combined operation of all its component parts. Again, the phenomena of certain diseases and accidents would probablj' give strength to the mistaken views. When a person is wounded in the leg, and a principal nerve cut across, the lower part of the limb, isolated from the brain, is deprived both of motion and sensation. If the spinal marrow be crushed, or disorganised by disease, sc tliat the communication between the brain and the nerves beyond the seat of injury, is destroyed, total paralysis ensues, that is, the limbs lose both motion and sensation. When a man is struck down by apoplexy, owing, to sudden effusion of blood into the brain from a ruptured vessel, he is deprived in- stantaneously of both motion and Sensation, These occurrence^ p 2 212 or THE NEKVTIS. n.;ef w ith daily, would naturally lead to the belief that sensation and motion were inseparably united in all the differe-it formn of the nervous system ; and when it was Imagined that two such distinct functions could belong to the same part, it would not be inconsistent to believe that other powers could be combined with them. Bu^ Sir Charles Bell had not long commenced his investiga- tions, when it ocouiTed to him that it was contrary to reason to suppose that two functions so essentially distinct from each other as motion and sensation, could belong to the same nerve. Let lis consider the direction in which the nervous agency which gives rise to motion, must necessarily be conveyed along a nerve to produce muscular contraction. As the volition originates in the brain, and the force, whatever it is, which acts upon the nerve must be propagated to the muscle, it is obvious that the force will proceed outwardly or centrifugally. But when a sensation is felt, as the effect must be produced by an impression being made upon the extremity of the nerve expanded on the skin, and by that being conveyed to the sensorium, it follows that the course of the nervous agency must be inwardly, or centiipetally. Hence the force which causes muscular contrac- tion passes along a nerve in one direction, and that which causes sensation in a contrary direction : and it is inconsistent to supposo that the same nerve, or same portion of the nervous centres, could minister to both functions at once. The fundamental princifile of the author's discoveries was originally announced in nearly the following terms : — The nerves of the body possess distinct and appropriate functions, corre- sponding with the parts of the brain and spinal marrow with ■R-hioh they are connected at their roo which appears simple, is found to bestow more than one endow- ment, it is a sign that that nerve has more than one origin from, the brain, and consists in reality of several nerves joined together. The mode by which this principle was demonstrated and established to be a law in physiology, was as follows : — The author first directed attention to the nerves of the Organs :)f the Senses. These nerves were formerly conceived to be so slosely allied to each other, that their functions were regarded rather as modifications of one common property, than as distinct 4ud specific. Thus it was siipposed that tho nerve of one organ OP THE NERVES. 213 of sense coiiU be the substitute for the nerve jf another, if transposed to that organ. For example, it was believed that the optic nerve, on which vision depends, could bestow sensation or pain lilie a nerve of the sliin ; and vice versa. But the author proved these opinions to be inoonect. He showed that eacti. nerve of sense is limited to receivinga distinct and appropriate impression ; lliat the nerve of vision can only give ideas of light and colour ;* the nerve of hearing, impressions of sound ; the nerve of smelling, the perception of odours; and so on. He further showed that these special properties depended on each of the nerves of sense having its root in a, distinct portion of the brain, provided for receiving its own peculiar impression. This fact could not be easily demonstrated by referring to the human brain alone, where, owing to the organs of sense and the in- tellectual capacities related to them, having reached their highest point of development, the structure is very complex ; but it could be satisfactorily made out with the assistance of com- parative anatomy. When we examine the inferior classes of animals, it is not found that those lowest in the scale possess the same number of organs of sense which belong to the higher ; on the contrary, the organs are bestowed gradually, one after another, in correspondence with the progressive advancement of the creatures in the scale of animal existence. As new organs are added, appropriate nerves appear, which communicate with the central part of the nervous system, analogous to the brain, of the animal. That elementary brain consists, at first, of mere swellings, or accumulations of nervous substance, called " gan- glions," collected about the mouth : and it is observed that,- according as additional organs of sense, with their nerves, are * He illustrated that fact in the following manner. Pressure applied to the surface of tlie eye, between the eyelids, gives ri-e to pain more acute than that felt in the skin generally, but still of a similnr kind ; a sense of touch. But pressure applied to the side of the eye, so as to affect the retina within, produces the appearance of a halo of variously coloured light before the eye, or ii totally different kind of sense from touch. In couching for cataract, tiio needle, when piercing the outer part of the eye, gives rise to pain, — to a sensation like that of pricking the skin; when it enters more deeply and transfixes the retina, it gives rise to an appear- ance like that of a spark of fire ; that is, a sense of light and colour, quite different from toucli. 214 OF THE NEBVKS. introduced, new ganglions make their appearance : for the pur- pose, as it is reasonably concluded, of ministering to the new sijecies of sense conferred on the animal. In proportion as the organization approaches in resemblance to that of man, the gan- j;lions enlarge, coalesce, and become changed in form, so as to he distinguished with difficulty from each other: but they continue even in the highest animals, to be called after the organs of sense over which they are supposed to preside : hence tliey get the names of Optic ganglions or lobes. Olfactory lobes, Auditory lobes, &c. That was the first step taken by the author, to show that the nerves possess distinct functions ; and that they obtain these from being connected with subdivisions of the brain, wliiih have also distinct endowments. The next stage in his progress was marked by more striking results. His object was now to explain how tlie nerves, known to bestow Motor power and Sensation conjointly, are endowed with that double proj erty. It may here he stated, that by far the greatest number of the nerves which supply the body generally, arise from the Spinal Marrow. Now, the way in which he proceeded to ascirtain the source of the double i ower possessed by the spinal nerves, was this. He took one of them, for example, a nerve of the arm ; and tracing it from the arm towards its origin in the spinal marrow, he observed that as it approached that organ, it sub- divided into two parts, called its roots — and that one of the roots entered a division of nervous substance, distinct from the othi r ; one loot being further distinguished by having a swelling upon it termed a <;anglion. That such was the mode of origin of all the spinal nerves, had long been well known to anatomists ; yet no physiological con- cUisinn had been drawn from it. But, following the piinciple which guided him in his researches, the author was led to suppose that roots, which thus proceeded from distinct portions of the spinal marrow, would possess distinct eiidowments. He there- fore inferred, that one of the roots niight be that which gave motion, while the other might be that which gave sensation ; and, assuming this view to bo correct, he further supposed, that the reason why a spinal nerve possessed both motion and sensation was, tliat the nerve was in reality double, being compounded of fibrils from two distinct roots. OF THE NEUVES. 215 Aocoiiiia_;ly, he proceeded to verify Kis opinion by experiments m.ide directly upon the roots of the spinal nerves, and also by obsorvatioas and experiments on nerves of the Brain, some of which resemble the spinal nerves in structure, while others dififer from them. Following that course of investigation, he proved by indisputable evidence, — that the root which passes to the posterior division of the spinal marrow, and has a ganglion upon it, bestows sensation alone ; and that the root which goes to the anterior divisien, gives motion alone. Thus he established, for the first time, the important fact, that nerves of Sensation are distinct from those of Motion. It has just been stated, that the author had recourse to observa- tions and experiments on the nerves of the Brain, to assist him in drawing his conclusions as to the distinct functions of the ro >ts of the spinal nerves : I may therefore describe shortly the results of his inquiries into the distinction between the motor' and sensitive nerves of that organ. With one exception, all the nerves which arise from the Brain and issue from the skull to supply different parts of the Head, instead of having, like the spinal nerves, double roots, have single roots. A series of these single-rooted nerves arise in a continuous line from a prolongation in the brain of that division or tract of the spinal marrow, which gives off the anterior or motor roots of the spinal nerves. The nerve which forms the exception, is the " Fifth " nerve as it is termed. Pjevious to the author's investigations, the anatomy of the roots of that nerve, although correctly described in some works, had attracted no particular interest ; and the most important points connected with it were commonly passed over unnoticed. The author observed that the Fifth is singular among the nerves of the Brain, in having double roots, like the nerves of the Spinal Marrow ; and that while one root arises from the continued tract of the spinal marrow which gives off the motor roots, the other on which, as in the posterior roots of the spinal nerves, a ganglion is formed, penetrates to a considerable depth, in order to arise from the tract which sends off the posterior, or sensitive roots. Fir.st, in regard to the experiments on nerves which arise by single roots from the brain. The nerve first selected to illustrate the functions of that series, was the one which passes to the 216 OP THE NERVES. Tongue, and is called the Ninth. Arising from the division of the spinal marrow which givts off the anterior roots, just as that division begins to unite With the brain, or at' the top of the spinal marrow, the Ninth cerebral nerve may be regarded, in its ana- tomical structure, as an anterior root of a spinal nerve, not joined by any posterior root. The nerve having come off in that manner, passes out immediately, through an appropriate hole ill the base of the skull, and without being joined by the fibrils of any ether nerve, is distributed to the Tongue. It is reitiarked that in its passage to the tongue, it avoids going to the surfslOe, endowed with sensibility ; and exhausts all its branches in sup- plying the various imiscles which move the organ. When this nerve was cut across in experiment, it was found that the tongue was instantaneously deprived of the power of motion : but the sensibility was unimpaired. It was accordingly proved that as the Ninth resembles the anterior roots of the spinal nerves in its mode of origin, it resembles them in function, and is exclusivcl}" a Motor nerve. Next, in regard to the experiments on the Fifth nerve. It will be understood from the Plan, that although this nerve resembles the spinal nerves, in the general structure of its roots, one of them, the ganglionic (corresponding with the posterior spinal roots), is greatly larger than the root without a ganglion. It may also b© seen, that shortly after its origin, the whole nei"ve subdivides into three great trunks, whioh ramify over the entire head ; and that ^the smaller root joins only one of the trunks, called the third or inferior maxillary, which supplies the lower i art of the face, and the muscles of the jaws. Hence the first and second groat branches are simple in structure, being formed entirely of fibrils from the larger, or ganglionic, root ; while the third is in part compound, from containing fibrils of the lesser root. Referring to Plate IV., it may be observed that two large branches, one above and the other helow the orbit, marked re- spectively I. and II., issue from the bones of the face to go to parts already abundantly supplied by another nerve, the portio dura : these are branches, as may be seen in the Plan, of the first two trunks of the fifth, derived from the ganglionic root alone. Now it was found that when these branches, called the supra-orbitary and mfra-orbitary nerves, were expofed in a living animal, it gave the most acute pain to prick or squeez« OF THE KERVES, 217 them : and when they were cut across, the whole surface of the face to which they are sent, was deprived instantaneously of sensation ; so entirely was sensation destroyed that the skin 2i8 OF THE NERVES. could be cut or pinched without the animal being-conscious of- the injury — without its wincing; and yet the motion of the I'arls was perfectly retained. Again, when the third or inferior maxillary trunk, composed of the two roots conjoined, was similarly exposed, and cut across above the point of union, pain was expejienced in the operation, and the parts to which it is sent were deprived of sensation ; but an additional effect was jiioduced — the muscles of the jaws, to which the fibrils of the smaller root go,- were paralysed. Hence the conclusion was obvious, that the larger root of the fifth nerve is endowed with b'ensation, and the smaller with Motion ; and that is only where fibrils of the two roots are combined, that the nerve can give both properties at once. Hence, also, confirmation was given to the deductions drawn from the ex|)eriments on the roots of the Spinal nerves ; the root of the Fifth cerebral nerve, analogous in structure to the posterior roots of the spinal nerves, having been shewn to bestow [Sensation, it was an additional proof that the function of the posterior spinal roots was to confer Sensation : and the root of the Fifth, analogous to the anterior roots of the spinal nerves, having been shown to bestow Motion, it was an additional proof that the function of the anterior spinal roots was to confer Motion. The author next selected for experiment another neiTe, which springs from a different part of the brain from the ninth or fifth, — the Facial nerve, or Portio Dura. This nerve arises by a simple root, and, without mixing its fibrils with those of any other, appears externally before the ear, as represented by A in Plate IV. and is distributed to the face. It had been hitherto believed that the portio dura was capable of bestowing both motion and sensation. But the author proved that this nerve was limited to giving motor power. By making a small incision through the skin, not larger than that for bleeding, he exposed the nerve in a monkey, — an animal which he considered better adapted than any other for the experiment, owing to the well- known mobility aud activity of its features: when the nerve was laid bare and cut, the motions of the corresponding side of the countenance were at once and entirely extinguished ; but the sensibility was unimpaired. It was even observed, as an addi- tional proof that sensation does not depend upon the portio dura, that the animal manifested no signs of pain during the act ol cutting it through, or pinching it. OF THE NERVES. U19 It will be admitted that the facts and reasoning now brought forward, were sufficient alone to establish the truth of the general propceition — That nerves of Sensation are distinct from nerves cf Motion : and that to different parts of the Brain and Spinal Marrow, belong distinct and appropriate endowments. But addi- tional proofs of a still more convincing and interesting kind were soon obtained, by observing the effects of disease in the nervous system of Man himself. Numerous cases early presented them- selves where morbid changes in the structure of the Brain, Spinal Marrow, or Roots of the nerves, in man, gave rise to phenomena similar to those which follow experiments on the lower animals.* For example, tumours sometimes grow within the vertebral canal, where the spinal marrow is lodged, and develop them- selves in such a manner as to destroy one set of the roots of the spinal nerves, without involving the other ; in these cases, only one function of the nerves is lost : if the anterior roots be affected, there is loss of motion ; if the posterior, there is loss of sensfition ; and the patient is in the singular condition of having feeling in the limb, although he cannot move it : or he may be able to move it and tarveno feeling. Cases of a similar kind were met with more frequently in the face. Owing to the portio dura, and fifth nerve, which supply the face, arising from parts of the brain at a distance from each other, and the one taking a circuitous course apart from the other, disease often affects one nerve and destroys its function, without reaching the other. In such cases, where the portio dura is affected, the muscles of the face are deprived of motion ; the [latient can no longer knit his brows, close his eyelids, inflate his nostril, or hold anything between his lips ; expression is entirely lost, and, owing to the muscles of the sound side dragging the paralysed cheek and lip towards them, the face is distorted ; but there is no diminution of sensibility in the half of the face, thus completely deprived of raotion.f But when the branches of the fifth nerve, which * The cases referred to were recorded chiefly by the author's zealous assistant in tliese pm'suits, Mr. John Shaw. t And it may be added, that no pain attepds the loss of function. Patients are seldom aware of their face having become paralysed, until told by a &'.end, or it has been observed by themselves, in the mirror. That is, the nerve, although formerly conceived to )>e one of the most exquisitely sensitive parts of the body, undergoes » S20 OF THE NLEVES. emerge upon the face, and arise from tlie larger root alrne, are affected, sensation is entirely lost, while motion is unimpaired. For example, the surface of the eye, supplied hy supeificial branches of the fifth, and a part so exquisitely sensible that if a fine hair touches it there will be severe pain and spasm of the eyelids, may, when the nerve is destroyed, he rudely pressed with the finger, and the patient will nevertheless be unconscious of pain ; or if the sui'face be inflamed,* and it be necessary to scarify it with the point of the lancet, in order to withdraw blood, the patient will submit to the operation without pain, and without even winking, although the eyelids retnin their power of closing, through the portio dura. It is from a morbid condition of one or other of the branches of the fifth that the excruciating paroxysms of pain in that dreadful disorder, tic douloureux, are produced. Should the disease which affects the nerve be situated close to its origin, so as to include both roots, then motion will be lost, as well as sensation ; besides, all the surfaces of the head which are supplied by the larger, sensitive root, being deprived of sensation, the muscles of the jaws supplied by the lesser root will be paralyzed : so that the patient, in eating, will neither be sensible of the presence of the food in the affected side of his mouth, nor be able to chew it. Prom such examples as the above, some idea may be formed of the benefits conferred upon medical science by the discoveries in the nervous system thus shortly described. While it con- process of disorganization sufficient to deprive it of its function, and yet the patient suffers no pain. This is accounted for by the portio dura being simply a nerve of motion, and having no power of bestowing sensation, or of giving pain. * Loss of sensation in the eye, from disease affecting tlie ophthalmic branches of the fifth, is often followed by inflammatiou, which ter- minates in the destruction of the organ. This is caused by the eye liaving been deprived of its important guardian, the sensibility, which induces not only winking, but other efforts, to protect the tender surface from injury; dust, and other irritating purticles, lodge beneath the eyelids, and without causing pain, set .uj) iii- flanimatury action. Cases arc sometimes met with, where the surface of the eye has lost sensation, but where (owing to another nerve, the third, being also affected) the upper eyelid has per- manently dropped, so as to cover the eye, and defend it I'ljm injury ; in these cases, infiamEration does not occur, and the eye preserves its transparency. OF THE NERVES. 221 tinued to be believed that every nerve, from whatever part it camo, had the same kind of functions, and that the different divisions of the brain and spinal marrow were alike, it followed that, when a case occurred of partial loss of sensation or of motion in any part of the body, the physician was led to conclude that disease had commenced in the brain ; and his treatment was conducted on that supposition. But when it was proved that the nerves had distinct endowments, it was reailily understood that the partial loss whether of motion or sensation, might depend on an affection of the nerves after they had Lft the brain, Rud were external to the skull, and consequently, that instead of the symptoms indicating a serious, or perhaps fatal disease of the brain, they might point to a comparatively harmless disorder. In short, the knowledge now acquired of the nervous system lends, every day, the most valuable aid to the practitioner ; it gives him means, not formerly in his power, of exploring disease, and of tracing it along to the precise spot where it is situated. On the Classification of the Nerves into the " Original" and " Respiratory" Systems. When the, author had established the existence of the imp' r- tant distinctions between the nerves of the cerebro-spinal system,* just pointed out, it soon became apparent that other questions remained to be solved concerning them. Having been led, in following the principle of his researches, to view the different modes in which the nerves arise from distinct subdivisions of the central organs, as indicating a diversity of function, he was forcibly struck by observing certain distinctions in the origins and mode of distribution of particular groups of nerves. With the object of ascertaining whether these anatomical differences pointed to further differences of function, he proceeded, first, to * The cerebro-spinal nerves include all those which arise from the Brain and Spinal JkTarrow. They are so called in contra- distinction to the " Sympathetic " system, which consists of a series of nerves and ganglions distributed tc the viscera of the chest and abdomen, and in many important p^ ints differing froui them. 222 or THE NERVES. examine the various parts of the body to which the nerves thuii coming from distinct divisions of the brain and spinal maiTow. are sent ; and, then, to compare the actions and uses of the parts with each other. When we take a general survey of the nerves of the human body (excluding, for the present, the nerves of the Organs of the Senses, and the Sympathetic system), it is remarked, that theie is one extensive series — so large that it embraces nearly all tlie nerves together — distinguished by the regularity and symmetry with which they are given off and pass to their destinations: wliile there is another series, arising from a different part of the nervous centres, remarkable for their partial and irregular dis- tribution. The first class consists principally of the Spinal Nerves. Passing off from the whole length of the Spinal Marrow, at intervals of about an inch from each other, these nerves go iii regular succession to the back of the head, the neck, the upper extremities, the whole trunk, and the lower extremities ; and as each nerve is composed of two roots, one fur motion and the other sensation, they bestow these double properties wherever they are sent. To this extensive series must be added the Fifth cerebral nerve, which both in structure and function, as it has been already shown, is a spinal nerve ; by its larger root it confers sensation on all parts of the head not supplied by the superior spinal nerves ; and by its lesser root it gives the power of motion to a limited set of muscles, viz. tliose by which maatication is performer!. As to the second class, they arise near the point of union ot the brain and spinal marrow, from a comparatively circumscribed portion of cerebral structure ; the tract or division of nervous substance from which they originate, is distinct from either ol those which give off the roots of the spinal nerves and fifih cerebral nerve ; and in passing out to the body, they course in A radiating manner to parts of the head, neck, and chest, where nerves of the former class are already jilentifuUy distributed. When we examine the structures thus supplied, we perceive that they enter into the formation of the organ of Respiration. Consequently, a question was here presented for solution — What is the particular character of the organs superintended by the first class, which distinguishes them from the .orgat: j( OF THE NERVES. 223 Breathing supplied by a different class ; or that will account for the former organs being supplied by a series of nerves so regular in their origins and distribution, and so widely extended, as the spinal nerves and fifth cerebial nerve; while the res|>iratory organ is provided with an appropriate set of nerves, jomparatively few in number, and differing in several anatomical features from the others ? To solve that problem, the author found it necessary to call in the aid of comparative anatomy, and to take a general survey of the nervous system as it is presented in the whole animal kingdom. First : it is known that in all living animals, from the lowest to the highest, an analogy exists in the structure of their bodies; so that Man, and all animals below him, have certain organs in common. That being the case, the author expected to find that in the nervous system, which controls those organs, there would be a corresponding commonness of character visible in the whole animal kingdom. But again, as, in the various organs composing the body, a gradual process of development takes place, so that the organization of each rises in perfection in proportion as animals ascend in the scale ; and as, in some particular parts, the mechanism undergoes material changes, giving rise to quite a new arrangement of the structures, he thought it reasonable to expect that corresponding modiflcar tions would be introduced into the nervous system, to adapt it to the new construction of .such parts. Prcceeding on that view, he was led to observe that the numerous members of the body which are supplied by the spinal nerv(.s and fifih cerebral nerve, form together a system, which, as regards the uses they serve in the economy, presents a re- markable uniformity through the whole animal kingdom , whila in the organ of Respiration supplied by the other set of nerves, a striking difference in that respect exists ; the apparatus of Breathing, in the lowest animals, is applied exclusively to oxygenating the Blood ; its mechanism is adapted to no other office: butin tbehigl er animals, although it continues to execute that necessary function of purifying the blooil, it has a new and distinct office superadded to it ; the mechanism is altered and arranged in such a manner as to adapt it to be the organ of Voice; and in Man it is besides the essential part of the organ of Speech and Expression. 224 OF THE NERVES. Hence, the author was led to conclude : — First, That the class ol spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve represents in Man a system which exists, under different phases, in every animal, and he called it the " Original" class : Secondly, That the nerves of the organ of Respiration are a new system, introduced in oon-e- spondeuce with changes which take place in the structure of that organ, in the cou: Sence with changes of structure which the organ of breathing undergoes, in its course of development through the animal kitgaom, to adapt it to Voice, in Man — the correctness of that theory will be best perceived by taking a general survey of the apparatus for respiration, as presented in the lowest and the highest animals. To follow the short description I am about to give, it may be of advantage to consider, at the outset, — What are the conditions required in the organ of Respiration to accommodate it to produce Voice, besides carrying on its primary and ordinary function of oxygenating the blood ? The first thing is, that the air, with which the blood to be purified is brought in contact, shall be collected within a partially closed cavity ; and that the walls of that cavity shall be capable of contracting on the volume of aii', so as to expel it with an impetus sufBciently strong to produce vibrations, and thus give rise to sound. The second essential thing is, that a tube, or windpipe, shall communicate between the cavity and the external air; and that, connected with that tube, there shall be an appropriate apparatus for varying and modulating the sounds produced by the expulsion of air through the tube. That is the simplest view of an organ of Voice, such as belongs to man. But in the lowest animals, we find no vestige of a structure like what has been described. The air which oxygenates the blood, instead of being drawn into the interior of the body, exercises its influence on the blood from without — that is, by coming in contact with the exterior surface of the animal ; and there is no provision at. all, connected with the organ of breathing, for producing sound. In the whole extent of com- parative anatomy, so fertile in subjects calculated to inspii'e be included in a system, common to all members of the animal kingdom, found in the earliest period of animal development, as in the latest. It has been stated before (p. 214), that the other senses, viz. seeing, hearing, and smelling, are liestowed upon animals, one after the other, according as they rise in the scale, and their organization becomes adapted to the possession of such additional senses. That may explain why the optic, auditoiy, and olfactory nerves should have distinct origins from the brain. q2 228 OF THE NEKVES. admiration, there is nothing which raises that feeling more, tlian observing the series of simple changes which gradually take place in different animals, A% they ascend in th» animal scale, t« conduct the air, applied, at first, to parts situated externally, into the interior of the body, there to be partially closed in, and made available for producmg Voice and Articulate Language, besides purifying the blood. In the inferior animals which are only a grade above Vegetables, no distinct respiratory organ exists. That deficiency corresponds with the absence of a system of vessels for circulating the blood in these creatures. The fluids obtained by assimilation of the food, and representing blood, are diffused through the cellular structure of the animal's body ; and it is simply by the air being brought into contact with the integument, that a process of"oxygenation, analogous to what takes place in the lungs of the higher animals, is effected : so that the mode of purification of the fluids in aninvils at the bottom of the scale, differs but little &om that in vegetables. As soon as distinct tubes are formed for circulating the nutrient fluids (scarcely to be called blood at that early period) through the body, traces are perceived of a respiratory organ. A congeries of vessels directing their course to a particular spot, indicates that the apparatus for respiration is situated at that part : but we find nothing as yet approximating in appearance to Lungs. The animals referred to hve in the water: and all that can be seen to represent a respiratory organ, is a set of loose fringes, or tufts, formed by duplications, or prolongations, of the integuments. By floating freely in the water, these tufts expose the blood circulating in them to the action of the air with which the water is charged, in a more effectual manner than can be done by the integument generally. As the circulating system becomes more distinct, the fringes are exchanged for small sacs within the animal, formed by the integument folded inwards upon itself, and open for the ingress and egress of water. These pouches are, at first, mere shallow cavities ; but as the organization advances, their lining membranes, on which the blood-vessels are spread, are disposed into numerous folds, so as to increase the extent of surfece with which the water and its contained air come in contact. The apparatus for respiration in Insects, is a modification of the latter kind of structure : ranged alotg the sides of their bodies, at 01" THE NEEVES. 229 regular intervals, there is a succession of holes, which are the openings of a series of infinitely small tubes, extending in all directions through their interior ; these openings and tubes conduct the air into their bodies, where it has the effiict of purifying the blood. A higher form of respiratory organ is presented in branchise or gills. These are possessed by such animals only as have the circulating system so far developed, that the elements of a heart, and a distinct set of vessels for conveying the blood to be oxygenated, appear for the first time ; and they therefore indicate a greater concentration both of the respiratory organ and of the circulating system. But even gills pass through many gradations before they acquire that high degree of development with which we are most familiar in Fishes. What we have cliieflj' to remark in all the modes of respiration hitherto mentioned ia ; first, that vmtil we arrive at the order Fishes, the lowest of the Vertebrata, the Mouth has no connection with the organ of breathing; — in all the Invertebrate, that aper- ture serves exclusively for taking in the food and manduoation. Secondly, that it is in fishes, that we have the earliest example of an internal skeleton, in which is blocked out, as it were, the first rude form of a chest, for containing lungs, and for drawing in and expelling the air through a single tube, the trachea, or windpipe, communicating with the Mouth. It may be new to many of the readers of this work to be told that the Air-Bladder, which serves in most fishes to accommo- date their specific gravity to the various degrees of density of the water in which they swim, is, in reality, an elementary Lung. Yet that is proved to be the case by many facts in comparative anatomy. It is sufficient to state, that a set of fishes exist called sauroid (from their resemblance to the inferior kinds of Reptiles), in which the air-bladder communicates with the mouth by a tube (termed ductus pneumaticus), which resembles, in all respects, a windpipe ; and these fishes, when left on dry land, can respire by this apparatus, independently of their gills. The same structure passes through various gradations in other animals intermediate between fishes and reptiles, till the gills at length disappear, and the air-bladder becomes a more perfectly m-- ganized lung. If we trace the progressive changes by which the sac, thus introtluood for the first time, into the interior of the body in 230 OF THE NEKVES. iomnuuication with the mouth, hecomes at length surroundefl by an apparatus of ribs and muscles, capable, by alternate expan- sion and contraction, of drawing in and expelling air, we shall find that the mechanism makes important advances towards a perfect form of that kind of respiration, iu the order Keptiles. In the lowest of .the order, viz. those reptiles immediately above fishes — Frogs and Tortoises — the development of ribs is so im- perfect, that instead of the sac, or lung, being filled with air by an expansive motion of the thorax, it is gradually distended by iinccessive actions of the Mouth, like swallowing: and Nostrils, through which the air is thus sucked, are now perceived. In the higher reptiles, as the Crocodiles, the membraneous sac becomes more compact, and like the proper substance of lung: it is permeated by numerous branches of the windpipe, which sub- divide and terminate in air-cells : and the lungs are now for the first time suiTOunded by the Eibs, and Sternum, provided with muscles to expand and contract the cavity. Although, in conse- quence of the weak, flexible structure of the bones of the chest (corresponding with the tortuous movements of the reptile in creeping), the process of alternate expansion and contraction is carried on imperfectly, the quantitj' of air received and dis- charged, small as it is, is suflBcient for animals which are cold- blooded, and have a torpid circulation like theirs. But however near an approximation is thus made, in reptiles, by the introduction of Nostrils, a Windpipe, and Lungs encased in a Thorax, to the apparatus of respiration as it exists in Man, a great change remains to be effected, before the resemblance is complete. Not only in reptiles, but in Birds, which is the order of vertebrata next above reptiles, the lungs occupy a part of the body common to them and the viscera generally : the thorax and abdomen I'orm a single cavity. It is not till we ascend to the Mammalia, the order above birds, and next to Man, — those vertebrate animals which have Lips, and can suck the teat — that a subdivision of the trunk iuto two distinct chambers, Is found. That separa-tion is accomplished by means of the Diaphragm, a muscular partition, which stretches across from the lower border of the ribs on one side to that on the other. When that muscle is added, the lungs are closed in on all sides by moveable walls, capable of expansion and contraction ; so that by enlarging the cavity, or inspiring, air is received freely into the chest j OF THE NEEVE8. 231 and it can then be expelled, by respiration, with whatever degree of force is desired. In short, when the diaphragm is introduced, the organ of breathing attains its highest condition of concentration in the animal kingdom: and it is not only adapted in an admirable manner for oxygenating the blood, but for propelling the air along the windpipe, with such regulated force as is necessary to produce Vocal sounds. When the chest has acquired the compact form just described, aevtral modifications in the structure of different parts of the frame, which do not at first appear directly related to breathing, take place. New sensibilities, intended to guard the apparatus, and which have the power of animating numerous distinct muscles, to co-operate rapidly in producing appropriate defensive actions, are also introduced, in correspondence with the change of mechanism. It is necessary, in order to understand properly the uses of the nerves distributed to the organ, to bear those arrangements in view ; and I may therefore direct attention to a few of them. The first example will be from the act of Swallowing. We are so familiar with deglutition as an action performed in the same passage by which we receive our breath, that it does not seem remarkable, that food for nourishment, and air for respiration, should both be safely admitted by one entrance : and yet in about nine-tenths of the animal kingdom, namely, all the invertebrata, the mouth is appropriated exclusively to taking in food, and has nothing to do with respiration. But let us suppose a morsel in the mouth, and trace its progress to the stomach. I only allude, in passing, to the arrangements by which, when the mouth is full, and no air passes into the lungs by that inlet, it is provided that the breathing shall proceed uninterraptedly, by the Nostrils, which open into the throat behind, directly over the proper orifice of the windpipe. When the morsel has been chewed, and is ready for swallowing, it is propelled into the back of the mouth : and here it comes in contact with a part of the throat, which is p.ndowed with a remarkable sensibility, — a sensibility of such a nature that, when excited, there is an iiTesistible desire to swallow ; and the consequence is, that whenever the sensible spot is touched by the morsel, a large class of muscles, consisting not only of those immediately adjoining, but of others situated at a distance, are brought into combined action, to grasp and propel the food rapidly into the gullet. Here a great variety of movements takes 232 01" THE NEKTES. place consentaneously. The windpipe is closed by its valve, the epiglottis, falling over it ; the posterior nostrils are shut, by the folding upwards of the curtain, called the soft palate ; certain strong muscles surrounding the upper part of the gullet compress the morsel, and urge it qmckly past the opening of the windpipe into that canal ; but, before the food can reach the stomach, it must pass through muscular fibres of the diaphragm, encirchng the gullet ; these fibres consequently relax, and there is a momen- tary interruption of the regular action of the diaphragm. Now =.11 these actions, which show so remarkable a consent between the muscles of deglutition and of respiration, are excited and regulated by the peculiar sensibility seated at the back part of the throat. If, however, there should be any disturbance in the act of swallowing, and a small portion of the food should pass the wrong way, a different set of actions will occur, under the influence of another kind of sensibility ; for example, if a crumb of bread should lodge in the throat, near the opening of the windpipe, a sensibility distinct from that which gives rise to swallowing, will be excited ; and will rouse the muscles to pro- duce a set of movements altogether diiferent from the fonner : the same muscles which are at one time engaged in deglutition, will now be combined in such a way as to cause a succession of violent extirpations or fits of coughing, which will continue till the irritating particle is expelled from the top of the windpipe, and the danger of choking removed. So there, are various other sensibilities seated in distinct parts of the passages, which differ in kind as well as degree, from those just mentioned ; and, when these are excited, similar concatenated actions of the muscles are produced, modified according to the structure which requires to be cleared or defended. I shall take the next example from the Circulating System. Comparative anatomy shows that, according as the apparatus of respiration becomes more perfectly organized, the heart and blood-vessels begin to be subdivided into two distinct systems ; ihe one for sending the blood to the lungs, and returning it when purified : and the other for distributing the purified blood to the body, and returning it for renewed oxygenation. That is the origin of the distinction drawn by anatomists, between tho nulmonic circle, which includes the part of the heart and blood vessels that belong to the lungs ; and the systemic circle, or part OF THE NEEVEH, 233 of the heart and Wood-vessels which send the blood over the body, and return it to the heart. This separation takes place in the animal kingdom, slowly and gradually, and is only complete in the warm-blooded animals. Thus, in man, the division of the circulating system apijropriated to the lungs consists of cavities of the heart and of blood-vessels, quite distinct from those provided for propelling the blood over the body. Yet these two divisions act in perfect concert with each other; a concert mechanically secured by the peculiar structure of the heart ; for the two sets of muscular cavities constituting the heart, are joined together, to form a single organ, and they contract in unison. Thus, so close a sympathy is established between the heart and the organ of respiration, that any interruption to the breathing will not only aifeot the action of the division of the heart which belongs to the lungs, but it will disturb the action of that part, joined to it in structure, by which the purified blood is conveyed through the body. Again, agitation of the heart, by disturbing the regular flow of blood to and from the lungs, will in like manner disturb the actions of respiration. Another point, still connected with the Circulating system, deserves to be noticed, as throwing light on some of the questions treated in the work. The blood which returns to the heart by the veins, flows towards the chest in a slow and easily interrupted stream ; the force which propelled it when issuing from the heart by the arteries, being exhausted before it enters the veins. Prom this weakness of the cuiTent, it follows that the bloid collected in the great veins close to the entrance of the chest — as the jugular veins, for example — ^may be stopped by a slight cause ; when congestion of the minute branches will be the consequence, and serious injury may be occasioned to the more delicate organs from which the blood returns. Now there are certain conditions of the chest in breathing, during which the renous blood is thus interrupted. As we draw in the breath, the blood flows along the veins with perfect facility, because the superior opening of the chest is then enlarged, and the suction, which draws air into the windpipe, has also the effect of in- creasing the force of the current of returning blood. But when we expel the air, and thereby diminish the area of the chest, an obstruction takes place in the flow of blood in the veins, and i( the act of expiration be strong, reguigitation may be produced 234 OF THE NERVES. This interiiif tion, and retrograde motion of the blood .n loi large veins of the neck, gorges the smaller vessels; the effect of which may he seen in a person seized with a fit of coughing or of sneezing : for his face then becomes suffused with red, and the superficial veins turgid with blood. It is therefore obvious, that if the veins of the surface of the head become congested, in sue? violent conditions of breathing, the deeper veins, returning th? blood from the Brain and the Eye, will also be over distendei from the same cause. Consequently, the delicate textures ot these important organs will be in danger of suffering serioui injury from the loaded and turgid condition of the veins. But both organs are defended from such dangers by a heautifu. arrangement of the muscles of the neck, which cover and protect the venous trunks. These muscles act in sympathy with the movements of respiration; so as to compress the large veins when the chest is contracted, and there is a tendency to re- gurgitation of the blood ; and to take pressure off them, when Jie chest is expanded, and the channel to the heart is free. It ig .urther to be noticed, that the flat web of muscular fibres whici covers the eye — the orbicularis muscle, by which we wink, and shut the eyes — is a part of the same provision. It acts in compressing the eye-ball whenever the chest is violently con- tracted, as in coughing, &c. ; by that means it closes the veins at the back of the orbit, and prevents engorgement of the fine branches which ramify on the dehcate coats within the eyeball.* * The orbicularis muscle is wanting In animals which have not the same concentrated apparatus for breathing as man. I have shewn elsewhere that in man and mammalia another provision exists besides that mentioned in the text, for guarding the eye against the irregularities of the venous circulation. The small veins which ramify in the interior of the organ between the delicate membranes that support the retina, join the larger trunks, before these pass out from the eye-ball, in a peculiar manner ; each branch makes a circular sweep, so as to describe nearly a complete circle, previous to entering its principal vein, and being arranged in concentric circles, they produce an appearance wlience the name vaea vorticosa has been applied to them. Nothing can be more admirably adapted than this structure for breaking the force of a retrogrude current of blood, and gradually diffusing it over the membranes. A similar vertiuose arrangement, though not so distinct, is observed in the superficial veins of the bram, and is obviously designed for a similar object. OF THE NEKVES. 23fl Hence it may be perceived by what close ties of sympathy the Circulating System and the Eespiratory Organ are held together, when both are in the concentrated condition presented in Man. The heart acts upon the organ of breathing : and it, in its turn, is acted upon by the lungs. It is in this manner that the troubled motions within the breast, which sensibly accompany" intense Emotion or Passion, exhibit themselves outwardly. Sudden changes of colour in the countenance denote disturbances in the heart's action ; laboured, irregular movements of the chest, extending to the neck and face, mark corresponding interruptions to the action of the respiratory organ : and both give rise to the varieties of Expression. Man is so constituted that he interprets, »s a natural language, these signs of a troubled bosom in his tellow men. It is a mode of communication intelligible to the inhabitants of every nation and clime, however diversified their ariiculate words. In this sense. Expression is a link which binds mankind in one common family. If, in that agitated state of respiration, Voice, either in song or - speech, be added, the sounds partake the perturbed condition ; and carry an effect as coming direct from the ■" bosom's lord," the Heart. Then is it that language, or music, exerts its most intense influence on the feelings of others. It was from studying the human body with these views, that the author concluded : — that the nerves which arise from a part of the brain distinct from that which gives off the nerves generally, and which are distributed to the organ of respiration, are bestowed in correspondence with the changes of mechanism which take place in that organ, and the new relations which are established between it and other parts, during its course of development in the animal kingdom. He believed that the main design of those progressive changes was to afford to man an instrument suited to the superior endowments conferred on him : — to supply him with an organ for the communication of thought, and for thus exercising and evolving the powers of his Mind — the great attribute by which he holds his exalted position in Creation. But as for intercourse with his fellow-men, Man does not depend upon articulate language alone ; there is the language of Expression ; a mode of communication understood" equally^ by mankind all over the globe ; — not conventional, or confined to nations, but aacd by the infant before speech, by untutored savage visited by 236 OF THE NEKVES. civilised European — he thought that the apparatus which was introduced for Voice and Language, was the same by which passion and emotion address themselves to us. Accordingly, he concluded, that the nerves of Respiration are at the same time the nerves of Expression. Of these nerves, the " Nervus Vagus," from its extensive dis- tribution, and the importance of the organs which it supplies, must be accounted the most considerable. As its name implies, it takes a long, wandering course. Arising from the same part of the brain as the other respiratory nerves, it first gives branches to the back of the throat and posterior orifices of the Nostrils ; descending a little in the neck, it sends a nerve to the upper part of the larynx, the org.an of Voice ; having passed furthei down, and entered the chest, a branch is reflected upwards, which goes, like the last, to the Larynx, but supplies its lower part ; branches are next transmitted along the principal blood-vessels, to the Heart ; while others, following the course of the bronchial tubes, enter the Lungs : the nerve having now expanded nearly all its fibrils, descends along the gullet, and terminates in branches to that tube and the orifice of the stomach, where they are encircled by muscular fibres of the Diaphragm. The use of the nerve appears to be, to unite the various structures which have been enumerated, in sympathy ; so that although situated at remote distances, and for the most part intrinsically distinct in function, they may act in concert with the organ of respiration generally ; and harmony may be established in the many com- plicated actions which they are associated together in performing. The " Spinal Accessory " nerve passes obliquely down the side cf the neck, to supply muscles attached to the upper part of the chest and the shoulder-blades ; and as these muscles co-operate with others in expanding the chest, and assist also in preventing irregularities in the venous circulation during the excited con- ditions of breathing, it is concluded that the function of the nerve is to associate the muscles to which it goes, with the organ of respiration. The name of the next nerve in order, the " Gosso-pharyngeal," indicates the parts to which it is distributed, the Tongue, and the Pharynx, or funnel-like expansion at the back part of the throat, which forms the common opening of both the windpipe and the gullet : as it is here that the numerous complicated and finely arranged actions by which ths entrance OF THE NEKVES. 237 Into the air-tube is protected during deglutitiou are performed, the glosso-pharyngeal nerve seems provided to regulate those actions, and connect them with the operations of the organ of breathing generally. The last nerve to be specially mentioned, is the " Purtio-dura :" coming out frooi the place of common origin of the respiratory nerves, before the ear, it sends branches Srst upon the side of the neck, to supply muscles which overlay and compress the veins in that part ; it next gives nerves to the lips ; afterwards to the nostrils ; then to the orbicular muscle of the eye-lids ; lastly, to the muscles of the brows ; and, in order to reach the parts of the face, to which it is destined, the nerve jas to travel across the large masseter muscle, and the equally arge temporal muscle, to neither of which (being muscles of aiastication, and supplied by the Fifth nerve) does it give even /ho smallest brauch : the chief use of the portio-dura is to associate the muscles of the lips and of the Nostrils, the two external orifices of the air-tube, with the rest of the organ of respiration ; but it fulfils other duties at the same time ; its branches which descend upon the neck, and those which go to the orbicular muscles of the eye-lids, control movements con- nected with disturbances in the venous circulation, produced in certain excited states of the respiration ; while the whole nerve, in virtue of its commanding the motions of all the featcires of the countenance, is the great source of Expression in the Face. Having shewn the gradual process by which the organ of breatliing is newly modelled, to adapt it to voice and expression, it is not out of place to point out how those other organs of the body, which have been described as super" intended by the " Original " class of nerves, — viz., the spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve — accommodate themselves to the new mechanism. It will be seen that, in the early stages of development of animals, owing to the defective organization of, the Locomotive and Prehensile instruments, the Mouth is embarrassed by having to perform ofSces, connected with obtaining food, which preclude its being used as an orifice lor breathing ; it has consequently no connection with the organ ol respiration. But by degrees those subsidiary organs improv free tho Mouth from performing more duties than those ol manducu ion, and it is converted, at last, into an opening which 238 OP THE NERVES. serves not only for receiving food, but for respiration, voice, and speech. As it is the adaptation of the size of the jaws, and ol the cavity of the Mouth to Speech, which, according to the principles of the author,* impart the characters of nobleness and beauty to the permanent form of the human head, which distin- guish it from the brute, 1 may briefly trace the steps in thj development by which that is effected. It was intimated before, that animals placed at the bottom of the scale of living beings, have an organization in many points resembling vegetables ; nevertheless, those creatures possess an organ corresponding to the Mouth. But at that pristine stage of animal life, there are no distinct prehensile or locomotive organs to minister to the mouth ; the " oral aperture " is little more than one of the spongioles in the root of a vegetable, by which nutritious fluids are attracted from the soil. Take the example of the Sponges : fixed to a rock in the sea, the sponge cannot transport itself from place to place in search of food : it has no feelers or arms to procure nourishment ; it is, in short, like a plant t in every respect but this, that instead of imbibing its food from the spot from which it grows, its numerous pores or mouths placed on the free surface of its body, receive the nutritious substances floating or dissolved in the water around it ; the currents and undulations of the sea sweeping its pendu Ions body from side to side, and to and fro, compensate in some degree for the deficiency of locomotive and prehensile organs. Advancing higher in the scale, animals are met with still fixed to a rock, and wanting in locomotive organs ; but the mouth is now provided with instruments corresponding to prehensile organs. Thus certain species of Polypes, attached to corals, exist, which have their open mouths surrounded by rows of tentacles or ciliary processes,} the principal use of which is to cause circles or eddies in the water near them, so that the nourishing matter in their neighbourhood may be attracted to their mouths, caught, and swallowed. In ascending a little higher; we find animals in general structure like those just described, having a mouth provided with tentacles capable of directing nourishing matter into it ; but instead of these animals being fixed by moorings to a rock, they are let loose to float in the ocean ; and we percei re, ♦ Page 29. t Whence the name, " Zoophytes.'' X Like petals of flowers, whence tbii name, " sea-flowers." OF THE KEEVES. 239 jor the first time, indications of locomotive organs, combined with mouth and prehensile organs. The creatures to which I refer, are such as the " Sea-nettle." That animal consists of a mass of buoyant soft substance ; by alternate contractions and expansions of its body, it has a slight power of directing its move- ments ; but it trusts chiefly for its changes of feeding-ground to the effects of the tides and currents of the sea : like a boat without oars or rudder, it is drifted from sand-bank to sand-bank, and floating along passively, a prey to stronger creatures, and defended only by its stings, it picks up the food which casually falls within ]ts reach ; in short, its organs of progression are in the lowest stage of development. And here it may be remarked, that it is the ocean, lakes, or rivers, where we must look for creatures such aa those described, which have their organs of prehension and of locomotion, and mouths, least advanced in organization : not only does the density of the water assist in buoying up their bodies ani. make them independent of solidly constructed members to rest or move upon ; but the fluid divides or dissolves the nutritious matters, so as to be more easily received into their mouths of simple structure. Accordingly, when we ascend higher in the animal series, and arrive at those animals which possess the earliest distinct representations of legs, such as belong to the highest, we perceive that the numbers of creatures capable of living on dry land begin to increase. I allude to animals which have an internal skeleton, that is, a skeleton composed of bones, found for the first time in the class Vertebrata. But amongst these the parts corresponding to legs and arms are, at the commencement, so imperfectly formed, that the animals to which they belong partly inhabit the water, and partly the land ; and when they do visit the dry land, they crawl upon their bellies, that is, they assist their weak and slender extremities by the tortuous motions along the earth of their trunks and tails ; as we see in the crocodile or lizard. Gradually, as the develop- ment proceeds, and the bones acquire increased solidity of structure, the body is well lifted up from the ground, the legs are longer leveip, more powerful and more active, as we see in the condition of Quadrupeds. Next, let us observe the progressive advancement from the state of quadrupeds to that of Man. As the four-footed anima swcend in th? scale, a contrast becomes evident between the 240 OP THK NEKVES. power and dimensions of their /ore and their hind logs. Origin- ally, hoth these sets of memhers participated equally in sustaining the weight of the trunic and head, and moving the body : but, by degrees, the hind legs increase in size and strength dispro- liortionately to the fore-legs ; and the latter become possessed of freer and more diversified motion. In short, in the strong hind-qr.arters of the horse, deer, &c., we see a preparation ior the parts corresponding to the lower extremities of Man, be- coming the exclusive oigans of progression ; and in the light, agile forms of the fnre-legs, a preparation for those corresponding .to the upper extremities, taking on the part of arms, to act exclusively as instruments of prehension. But it is only in Man that this distinct appropriation of each member to its own peculiar function is found complete. The monkey, Man's nearest relation in the family of animals, can rest upon the hind legs ; but it is feebly and imperfectly ; he can skilfully grasp a cocoa-nut with paxts resembling human hands ; but his so-called hands are still instruments of progression; they enable him to warp himself with agility along the branches of trees, his proper habitation. Man is distinguished above all other animals by his lower extremities having solidity and power sufficient to sustain his body without the aid of other members, and so as to be his sole organs of progression : hence his erect position. Again, as man's upper extremities are emancipated from the duty of assisting in locomotion, they are free to execute whatever rapid and varied movements may be called for, either for self defence or for procuring nourishment. And in correspondence with that freedom of action, a Eand is added, which, for the perfection of its endowments and mechanism, has been, in all ages, a constant theme of admiration. Now let us ask, what influence have the improvements thus shewn in the construction of the organs of locomotion and of prehension, upon the structure of the Mouth ? The chief use ot the prehensile organs being to seize food for the supply of the mouth, It may be expected that, as they become more highly organized, the mouth will undergo a change in its form. Let us inquire, then, what effect .has the improved organization of the prehensile organ as seen in the hand of man in allowing the mouth to be adapted for a vocal organ — an organ of Articulate Language ? OF THE NEUVES. 21j It has been stated that in all the vertebrate animals below man, the member analogous to the arm and hand, is an instru- ment of progression as well as of prehension. Whether we take the fin of the fish, the anterior extremity of the reptile, the wing of the bird, the paddle of the dolphin, or the fore leg of the horse or dog, the principal, if not the only use of the member is to assist in locomotion ; only a few quadrupeds, like the squirrel, the feline animals, &c., besides using their paws for running, climbing, burrowing, &c., employ them to carry food to the mouth. Now the consequence of using the organ intended to convey the food to the mouth as one for progression, will be, that the ofBce of appropriating the food will be thrown upon the mouth itself. Accordingly, in all animals below Man, the month is a prehensile, as well as a manducatory organ. If the animal be graminivorous, it must crop the herbage with its teeth before chewing and triturating it ; if it be carnivorous, it must be provided with large, sharp fangs or tusks, to fight, seize, and tear its prey, before it can reduce its food to a fit state for swallowing. In short, the mouth, with its delicate sense of touch, its hairs or whiskers projecting from it as feelers, and its jaws armed with large teeth, is to be looked upon, in conjunction with the long, flexible neck commonly belonging to brutes, as combining the functions of the human arm and hand, with that of an organ of mastication. But it is obvious that a mouth of the large capacity and irregular shape of an animal like the horse, ox, dog, or lion, coiiid never be adapted to produce articulate sounds. In a cavity such as the month of the horse, we can understand how neighing may be produced ; but we cannot suppose that, by any adjustment of the tongue or lips, the, air, even if it were properly vocalised in the larynx, could be confined, and then be let suddenly free to give rise to explosive sounds ; or be impinged against the palate, to cause guttural sounds; or be directed into the back of the nostrils, to produce nasal sounds. In short, none of those numerous, finely-varied changes in the shape of the interior of the mouth, produced by the combined action of the tongue, palate, cheeks, and lips, which give rise to the infinite modifica- tions of sound in speech, could take place in such gross structures. For the vibrating air expelled from the larynx to be divided and modulated so as to produce words with proper tone n 24:2 OF THE NEK YES. and accent, it is necessary that the cavity of the niouth should be small, its boundaries regular and uninterrupted, and the com- munication between it and the nostrils free. Now that is the very character of the mouth in Man. Provided with an arm and hand, free to execute all the objects of his will, man is under no necessity to use his mouth as the brute does. Being limited to manducation, the jaw-bones may he of small size and light construction, while the teeth may Ukewise be small, be set erect, and ranged in uniform, regular rows, so important for distinct articulation. On the whole, from the mouth being absolved, by the perfection of the hcmd, from performing more ofBoes than those of mastication simply, the cavity admits of being diminished in size, the jaws and teeth of being reduced to moderate dimensions, and the whole form is suited in the most admirable manner for an organ of articulate language. On looking to the skulls of different races of mankind, it will be seen that Nature, in fashioning the mouth of man to be a speaking organ, has not departed from her usual course ot carrying on the process of development by slow and gradual steps. Observe what a contrast exists between the skull of the Negro and that of the European, caused by the inordinately large size of the jaws and projection of the teeth in the former. The well- formed skull of the European is distinguished by having the jaws and teeth of comparatively diminutive size; while the cavities formed in the interstices between the bones of the face, at the brows and cheeks, and which communicate with the nostrils, to allow a free circulation of air round the chambers where sound is produced, being parts of the organ of Voice, are full and prominent. Thus we perceive how the genius of the sculptors and painters of antiquity led them to discover a principle of beauty, in designing the human head, founded on a profound view of the relation existiiig between Man's physical structure and his mental constitution — the principle expounded in the first essay of this work. Eegarding his supremacy over all created beings to be in virtue of his possessing a Mind, they looked for the signs of his superior organization, to those structures which minister most directly to the mind. The cranium was represented capacious snd full, it being the pait where the Brain, the seat of intellect, OF THE NEEVES. 243 is lodged. But they studied, at tlie same time, the organ by which the operations of the intellect are embodied in Speech and intercourse is established between the minds of man and man. The lower part of the face, including the jaws and teeth, which in brutes have such a preponderating size to enable them to seize and read their prey, was made small and delicate ; white the upper, composed of passages and chambers permeated by the air, and accessory to the organ of Speech, were expanded and elevated into due dimensions, so as to give them characteristic prominence. Thus, in whatever view we study the development of the animal frame, new proofs present themselves of the final aim of all the modifications which we successively trace, being to confer upon man an instrument adapted to his intellectual nature — an organ of Speech. It is the fine adjustment of the various members of his body for that object, that renders his organization the most perfect in the animal iimgdom. Additional strength ie, therefore, given to the author's opinions that our conceptions of human beauty, both as regards the form of the head, and the moveable features, have a direct relation to the fitness of the structures for Speech, Voice, and Expression. Such is a brief aticouut of the leading parts of the discoveries made by the author of the volume, in that important part ol the anatomy of the body — the Nervous System. He first established that the nerves of Motion are distinct from those of Sensation ; — ^and that the nerves, generally, possess different endowments, according to the divisions of the brain or spinal marrow fixjm which they arise. He then arranged the nerves of the whole body into three distinct systems, corresponding with tiie organs which they respectively control. The First class is that composed of tie Spinal Nerves and fifth Nerve of tha brain ; this class, he provii, bestows both motion and sensation on all the parts to which it is distributed ; and these parts, he further shewed, are organs which belong to man in common with the lowest creatures, their united function being to supply food, the first necessary want of all animals : he termed this set of nerves the " Original" class, and included in it the nerves of the various organs of the senses. The Second class comprises a series of nerves di.stinct fi:m the former, both in their origin and mode of B 2 '244 OF THE NEKVE8. distribution; they pass off from a circumscribed central portion of tiie nervous system, the tneduUa oblongata, and diverge to different parts of the head, neck, throat, and chest, already supplied by the original class : he shewed that these structures form together a mechanism for respiration, not found in the lovpest animals, but gradually introduced by a slow process of development into the animal kingdom, in order that, besides oxygenating the blood, it may be, in Man, the organ of Voice and Expression : to this set of nerves he applied the riame, " Respiratory " class. In these two classes are combined all the nerves together which arise either from the Brain or Spinal Marrow. The Third class consists of a series of nerves which have their centre in large ganglions, scattered principally among the viscera of the abdomen ; this forms the system called ganglionic or " Sympathetic :" and their use has been generally supposed to be, to unite in sympathy those organs by which the various organic functions are performed : such as secretion absorption, assimilation of the food, the growth and decay of thi body, &c. When the nerves belonging to these different classes are viewed, as by the anatomist, in their combined condition, crossing, joining, and interlacing, in the different parts of the body, nothing can exceed their apparent confusion ; but when examined by the aid of the principle, and the arrangement introduced by Sir Charles Bell, ordsr and design are foond tc pervade every part. EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. PLATE I. Fig. 1. The Skull of a Man fully grown, presented in a front new. A. The Frontal Bone (os frontis). B. The Protuberances formed by the Frontal Smusea. o. The Temporal Kidge if the frontal bone ; on which tlie form of the temple depends. D. The Cheek Bone (os malse). E E. The upper Maxillaiy Bones. p. The Nasal Bones. G G. The Orbits or Sockets for the Eye-balls. The circle of their margin is seen to be formed by the frontal bones, the cheek- bones, and the superior maxillary bones. H H. The Temporal Bones. These hollows are filled with a strong muscle, which arising upon the side of the skull, passes down, through the arch, to be inserted into the lower jaw-bone. 1 1. The Mastoid or Mamillary Processes of the Temporal Bone These are the points into which the strong mastoid muscles which give form to the neck, are inserted. K. The Lower Jaw. L. The Angle of the Lower Jaw. M. The Processes of the jaws which form the sockets for receiving the roots of the teeth. Fig. 2 is the Skull of an Adult seen in Profile, in which we have to remark these parts : — A. The Frontal Bone. B. Tlie Temporal Bone. c. The Zygomatic Process of the temporal bone, which, with the process of the cheek-bone, forms an arch, under which the tendon of the temporal muscle passes, to be inserted into the lower jaw. O. The opening of the tube of the Ear ; a little below this is the mastoid process of the temporal bone. 2-l8 EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. E. The Parietal Bone ; so called because it formu tlie greater part, as it were, of the wall of the skull. r. The Occipital Bone. These bones are united by sulures, in which the processes of one bone seem to indent themselves, as they grow, -into those of the opposite bone, without there being an absolute union between them. That which unites the frontal and parietal bone is called the coronal suture ; that which unites the parietal and temporal bones is called the squamous or temporal suture : the line between the occipital and parietal bones is the lambdoidal suture ; and the line between the parietal bones is called the saggital suture, because it is laid betwt-'en the lambdoid and coronal sutures, like the arrow between the bow and the string. There are many lesser sutures which unite the smaller bones oi the face ; but they need not be mentioned here. G. The Cheek Bone (oB malse). H. The Upper Jaw-bone (maxilla superior), I. The Bones of the Nose (ossa nasi). K. The Lower Jaw (mnxilla inferior). L. The Angle of the Jaw. M. The Process of the Jaw which moves in the socket in tne temporal bone. N. The Coronoid Process of the Jaw, into which the temporal muscle is fixed, to move the jaw in conjunction with other muscles. Fig. 3 represents the Skull of an Infant, in which tlie sutures are not yet formed, the bones of the cranium being loose, and attached by their membranes only ; while the spaces may be ob- served, left unprotected, from the imperfect ossification of the bones. The individual parts require no references; they will bo understood from their correspondence with fig. 2. Fig. 4 is the iSeotion of a Cranium, in which the only thing meant to be particularly remarked, is the cavity which is seen in the frontal bone, viz. the frontal sinuses. PLATE n. OP TUB MUSCLES OP THE FACE. This plate represents the Muscles of the Face as they appear in a front view. There are muscles attached to the eyebrow which produce ifa vaiious motions. , ^sw ^-^-^^ PLATE II. EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. 249 A A. The Frontal Muscle. A thin muscle, expanded over the forehead, and inserted into the skin under the eyebrow. We do not see here the whole of the muscle, hut only a part of what is properly called Oocipito-frontalis. It arises in a web of fibres, from the baot of the skull (from a lidge of the temporal and occipital bones) ; becoming 'jendinoua, it covers all the upper part of the skull with a membrane or sheet of tendon, and terminates in the anterior muscle, which is seen in this view. B B. The Corrugator Supercilii arises from the lower part of the frontal bone near the nose, and is inserted into the integument imder the eyebrow. It lies nearly transversely, and its office is to knit and draw the eyebrows together." c c. The Circiliar Muscle of the Eyelids (the orbicularis palpebrarum). There is a little tendon at the inner angle of the eye, which ia a fixed point for this muscle, attaching it to the maxillary bone, and being both origin and inser- tion. The descending slip of the Occipito-frontalis, or pyi-amidalis nasi, ia a fasciculus of fibres which descends from the frontal muscle to be attached to the side of the nose : it has a distinct operation, and may be considered as a separate muscle. It draws the inner extremity of the eyebrow downwards. These four muscles move the eyebrow, and give it all its various inflexions. If the orbicularis palpebrarum and the descending slip of the frontalis act together, there is a heavy and lowering ex- pression. If they yield to the influence of the frontal muscle, the eyebrow ia arched, and there is a cheerful or an alert and inquiring expression. If the corrugator supercUii acts, there is more or less expression of mental anguiah, or of painful exercise of thought. Muscles moving the nostrils : — D. Levator Labii Superioris Alseque Nasi. It arises from the upper jaw, and ia inserted into the upper lip and nostril, which it raises. E. Compressor nasi. A set of fibres vfhich compress the nostril. I.. The Depressor AIsb Nasi lies under the orbicularis oris. It arises near the incisor teeth, and is inserted into the move- able cartilage, which forms the wing of the nostril. These three muscles serve to expand and contract the nostril. They move in concert with the muscles of respiration. Muscles of the Lips : — p. Levator Labii Proprius. It arises from the upper jaw-bone, near the orbit, and is inserted into the upper lip, which it raises. 6. Levator Anguli Oris. This muscle, lying under the last, ie, of course, shorter : it raises the angle of the mouth. H. Zygomatic Muscle. So called, because its origin is from the ■250 EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. zygomatic process of the cheek-bone. It is inserted iiito the angle of the mouth. K. Orbicular Muscle of the Lips. M. Nasalis Labii Superioria. I)raws down the septum of the nose. N. Triangularis Oris, or Depressor Labiorum. A strong muscle arising from the base of the lower jaw, and inserted into the angle of the month. o. Quadratus Menti, or Depressor of the Lower Lip. p. Levatores Menti. Small, but strong, muscles. They arise from the lower jaw near the alveolar processes of the incisor teeth, descend, and are inserted into the integument of the chin. By their action they throw up the cliin and project the lower lip. Q. The Buccinator forms the fleshy part of the cheeks. It acts principally in turning the morsel in the mouth. Its fibres are inserted into the angles of the mouth. K, Fibres of the Platysma Myoides, which ascend from the neck upon the side of the cheek. PLA'l'h; 111 MUSCLES OF A DOO'S PACE. A A. Circular fibres, which surround the eye-lids. B»D. Accessory Muscles, which I name Scintillantes. They draw back the eye-lids from the eye-ball. G H. Muscles of the Ear. I K. A Mass of Muscular Fibres, always the strongest in this clasa of animals, and which, with those concealed under them, I call Kingentes. They raise the upper lip and expose the teeth. L. Muscles which move the nostril in smelling. M. Circular Fibres of the Mouth, which yet do not make a perfei:t orbicular muscle. V. A Muscle which answers to the Zygomaticus in man, and which has great power in this animal : it reaches from the ear to the angle of the mouth. It opens the mouth, retracts the lips, and disengages them from the teeth, as in seizing their prey. o. The Cutaneous Muscle. It sends up a web of fibres fiom the neck on the side of the face : they are stronger here than in man. PLATE ni. PLATE IT. EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. 253 PLATE IV. NERVES OF THE FACE AND NECK. I. Frontal or supra-orbitary branch of the fifth nerve of tha brain ; the terminating branch of the first or ophtbalmio division : aririing simply from the larger or ganglionic root of the fifth nerve, it bestows sensation alone. II. Superior maxillary, or infra-orbitary branch of the fifth nerve, the terminating branch of the second division ; arising simply, like the last, from the sensitive root, it bestows sensation alone. in. Mental, or inferior maxillary branch of the fifth nerve : it arises from the third division : by referring to the wood engraving (p. 217) it will be seen that this branch comes simply from the sensitive root ; and it gives sensation alone. IV. Temporal branches of the fifth nerve : they arise in common with the preceding branch, and bestow sensation alone. V. This nerve is the only branch of the fifth, arising from the smaller or motor root, which appears superficially : it is called bucoalis-labialis, from supplying the buccinator muscle, and muscles at the angle of the mouth ; and it associates these parts with the muscles of the jaws in mastication. The branches of the motor root of the fifth, which go to the more powerful muscles of the jaws, are situated deeply, and are not repre- sented in the plate. Their distribution may be understood by looking to the wood engraving (p. 217). VI. VII, Vin, IX. These are spinal nerves ; the first of the series which come out, between the vertebras, in the whole length oi the spine, to supply the body generally with motion and sensation. A. Portio Dura, or Facial Nerve: the motor nerve of the features. Arising from the medulla oblongata, close to the origins of the Nervus Vagus, the Glosso-Pharyngeal, and Spinal Accessory nerves, included in the respiratory class, it appears superficially before the ear. In front of the ear, and while lying upon the two principal muscles of mastication, viz., the masseter and temporal muscles, it forms a web or plexua ; but it gives no branch to any of the muscles of the jaws. Its branches pass off as follows : — o. Frontal branches to the muscles of the forehead and eye- brow. b. Branches to the eye-Uds. c. Branches to the muscles which move the nostrils and upper lip. i. Branches to the lower lip. 254 EXPLANATION OP THE PLATES. e. Branches going down upon the side of the neck. f. Connections with the Cervical Spinal Nerves. g. A Nerve to the Occipital portion of the Occipito-frottalii muscle, and to muscles of the ear. B. The Nerrus Vagus, or grand respiratory nerve. c. The Spinal Accessory Nerve. 1). The Ninth nerve ; motor Nerve of the tongue. 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